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I’m working on a new fic!!! For real this time lol

It’ll be starring all of bts and it will be a supernatural crime thriller with detective!jk and demon!jimin and that’s all I’ll say for now 😉

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JUST KEEP GOING | Do not edit.

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New Beginnings

A/N: txt debuted and i love them so much i wanted to write for them! this is basically a continuation of the witch!bts au (that i really really want to continue btw) and they’ll probably be intertwined ;)

wc: ~500

genre: fluffy, angsty? starring witch!kai ft. witch!soobin

Kai toyed with a leaf. He’d found it trailing him after a gust of wind had blown his hair into his face. He couldn’t quite focus on it, but it kept his hands busy and that was all he needed.

He couldn’t get himself to sit still. It had only been a few days since he’d heard from the—what had they called it? The coven. The tall boy with the confident smile had approached him one day in the library. Kai had only been studying. He hadn’t meant to tap his fingertips on the wooden table beneath him. He hadn’t meant to let the fire flow out of them as he was used to doing in the privacy of his own home. Sooner than he could realize, he looked at the spot where his hand had been to see it charred. He covered the burned prints with the flat of his palm and dashed his eyes around to see if anyone had noticed. No one was near him, but the tall boy had been pulling a book in the stacks when he saw him.

Kai had flushed red and focused his gaze back on his textbook when a shadow had fallen on him. The boy pulled out the chair in front of him and sat down, flashing him his confident smile. “You’re not alone,” he’d said.

He had explained that he was like him too. That he could do things he couldn’t explain. That there were others. An older boy who could charm. A boy who could make people like him without trying. A small boy who could see the future. He told Kai they had a house. That they were a group—a coven. The boy had said his name was Soobin and given him an invitation to join them.

Kai had worried over Soobin’s words for days. For a while, it didn’t seem possible. He felt like he needed to prove to himself that he hadn’t imagined all those times when he’d forced a wave away from him at the beach or blown a gust of wind to help him walk faster to school or burned little fingerprint marks into his dining room table.

So there he was, standing in front of a small house, tucked away into the corner of a not-so-busy street. He pulsed a shot of flame out of his palm and the leaf withered and turned to ash. The ash dripped from between his fingers onto the ground and he opened his palm to let the rest blow away with the wind.

A deer darted its head out of a thicket of trees that ensconced the house in on one side and made its way slowly over to Kai. Kai’s eyes widened as it bowed its head and its body expanded and retracted. Its back limbs stretched and reshaped while its front limbs widened and lengthened into tapered fingers. Its snout flattened and its fur shortened and recolored. Kai watched as Soobin stood before him, his antlers disappearing into his hair until there was nothing but the memory of a horned boy standing expectantly in front of his house.

Soobin smiled. “I’m glad you came.”

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Are you back?! Omg I’ve been waiting what feels like forever for you! I miss you so much, thank you for coming back 😭

Of course!!! I missed you too!!!

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Nocturne

Christmas Eve will find me Where the love light gleams I’ll be home for Christmas if only in my dreams

A/N: I know I’ve been gone for FOREVER, but I’m trying to make a comeback. I’ve got lots of exciting things planned so for those of you still reading and for those of you just joining, thank you for your support!

genre: fluff, the slightest bit of angst wc: ~1K

Yoongi considered himself lucky to be with you. It was a quiet pride, something he kept close to his chest. That wasn’t to say he wasn’t verbal about how much he loved you, but there was an undercurrent of communication that no one else could sense but you. It was constant, and it was one of the best things about your relationship.

It was so powerful, in fact, that you could almost feel what he was thinking even as he prepped to perform miles away.

You sat on the couch in your living room, tucked away in the outskirts of the city where the noise of cars racing to reach Christmas parties and the brilliant glowing lights of a thousand restaurants, bars, and shops lit up for the holidays could not reach you.

A meow drew your attention and you unsheathed yourself from your couch cocoon to feed your cat. Azu only bothered with you when Yoongi wasn’t home. Otherwise, you might as well have not existed. Azu followed Yoongi around as if he held some secret he could only absorb from being near him. He crouched near the door whenever Yoongi stepped away to go to the bathroom, and he hovered near his toes when he was in his studio until he finally opened up his arms and let Azu settle in his lap.

Even Azu’s name was a sign of his connection to Yoongi. Azu’s full name was Azucar, the Spanish word for Sugar. You’d suggested it as a joke—and because Azu’s back had a dusting of white that looked like spilled sugar—but Yoongi had taken to it.

Azu was all the company you would have tonight. Yoongi wouldn’t return home until the morning. His concert would run late, and the team had gotten a hotel near the venue.

You didn’t want to wallow in your loneliness, and you couldn’t remember the last time you’d actually gone to bed before midnight—Yoongi’s sleep schedule was nothing if not erratic—so you bid goodnight to Azu, who was too busy eating to care, and slumped off to bed.

The first thing you noticed was the piano. It was difficult to miss. The park you were in was an innocuous one, with a sad-looking swing set, a few benches, and the fluorescent lighting of a convenience store tucked away just on the edge. That was what made the piano all the more odd.

Yoongi sat on one of the benches. His beanie was pulled down low over his hair and he had a coat that made him look much smaller than he was but protected him from the frigid cold. You trekked over the snow, marking a path along the way, and sat down next to him.

You held out a hand and he seamlessly handed over a warm cup of hot cocoa. “What do I owe you?”

You knew it was a dream when the corner of his lip didn’t lift up in a smile. Instead, he shook his head. “Don’t worry about it.”

You looked out at the piano. “Play me a song.”

Yoongi got up and you followed him over, sitting down next to him and taking his cup.

He played a soft song. Something sweet and lyric-less that he’d written a few months into your relationship. He’d told you it wasn’t quite about you. Not really. It was more like a feeling. He’d just thought about you and this song had come out.

You’d heard it almost a million times, but in the dream, it sounded like you were hearing it for the first time again. You felt the mystery and the thrill of wondering which note would come next and the swell of pride at knowing this was a masterpiece he would only ever share with you.

When the song finished, you were back in your living room and the piano had transformed into your couch. Yoongi reached under your Christmas tree while Azu circled his ankles. You snuggled into your blankets and waited for him to come to you, present in hand.

He sat down beside you and placed a box in your lap. You laid your head on his shoulder and breathed in the scent of him, fainter than usual because this wasn’t really him, just the memory of him.

You saw his hand grip your leg though you couldn’t really feel it. Azu pawed for a space on his lap, and you yearned for this moment so much you could feel your heart ache. It was the pain in your chest—your real chest—that blurred the lines between dream and reality. Then, as quickly as it had come, your dream was gone.

The sun hadn’t yet risen when you finally managed to shake the sleep off. Azu glanced up at you from Yoongi’s pillow, where he had burrowed himself for the night, and then promptly fell back asleep. You rubbed at your eyelids and willed yourself to not feel lonely, to accept that Christmas had come and gone but there would be many more. You willed yourself not to feel the pang from your dream, but the ghost of the ache was sticking around.

Your phone buzzed from the nightstand and you shot a hand out to grab it, startling Azu in the process.

“Hello?” You said, your voice still groggy.

“Morning,” Yoongi’s voice was rough and deep like he hadn’t really fallen asleep so much as lingered at the edge of sleep all night.

You smiled. “Morning.”

“I’ll be home soon.”

You relaxed back into your sheets and coaxed Azu back to sleep. “Good.”

“Can we have a late Christmas?” He asked, and you wished there was no distance between you so you could kiss the lips of the boy who’d spoken so tentatively and sweetly as if it was the most important question in the world.

“I would love that,” you said, already picturing him coming through your front door.

“Good,” he mimicked, then his voice softened. “Merry Christmas.”

You felt another pang but a sweeter one that was much more satisfying. “Merry Christmas.”

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HIi just found ur acc and ur writing is v good!!!!!

Thank you!!! I’ve been gone for forever, but I’ll be making a comeback soon... :)

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Hey! Some of your links aren’t working, like some of got7’s won’t load. I was wondering if you could fix them? Btw I love your work so so much! ♥️♥️♥️

I got this forever ago and I started to go through my links and realized just how bad it was. This is what I get for abandoning cocosothermom and trying to transfer everything over to hobistagram. I will definitely get on this! That said, Tumblr likes to be super glitchy so sometimes I’ll miss something that I definitely thought I fixed but it never worked out so let me know if you see anything else that’s off!

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life imitates art

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OK, I just read your Bobby drabbles, and I just, the one where reader couldnt sleep had me tearing, it was so raw, it felt like an open wound, fresh and broken and it was so short, but so beautiful and I just wanted to say thank you for sharing your talent, because damn, you have one hell of one ❤❤❤❤

Sorry I’m just now replying to this but thank you so so much!! That means a lot and I honestly truly appreciate every kind word.

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Boundaries

A/N: I’m not dead! Sorry I’ve been MIA for months, I’ve been super busy, but I’m making an effort to be active again so if you questions or comments feel free to come in my ask box! I’m gonna be working on the next part of Charming as well as the next installment of merman!Tae so look for those soon!

Genre: fluff, angst starring witch!Namjoon

WC: ~1K

Other witch!BTS pieces:

Hoseok | Yoongi | Jimin | Taehyung | Jungkook | Seokjin

Namjoon did not panic. He did not panic when the woman strolled up to their table at the club. He had no reason to. When she leaned on their table and flipped her hair and passed them each a card of hers, he did not panic as he took it out of courtesy. He did not panic when the darkness set in and he felt himself go limp. He did not panic when he felt his body lift of its own accord and move toward the door. He didn’t even panic when he saw his brothers, the boys he’d chosen to raise and live with, follow along beside him in the same state of stupor.

He had been taught calmness.

When he’d met her, he had kept a constant flame burning between his fingertips. He would let himself feel the burning of it until his body stopped him. His body self-regulated just as anyone’s did. When the flame on his skin burned too bright, his body would blow it out. When he took in too much water, his body drained it out. Once he’d even tried going into one of the labs at the university and tried to blow out all the air in his body. He had anticipated an explosion but the reality of It had been a lot less dramatic. He’d tried for half an hour but the air had never fully left him.

So he knew his boundaries. He knew what limits he could push himself to.

She was different in every way. She was guarded. The day he met her, she was rifling through her bookbag for a folder. Once she’d found it, she pulled it out, checked the papers inside, and then replaced it in her bag. Namjoon watched her perform the ritual three times before he walked over to her. With a distance between them, he had bent to speak to her. “Is this your first year?”

She had startled and her back had straightened only enough for Namjoon to notice. She’d tucked one side of her hair behind her ear and then immediately reached for the other side, double checked that each side was even, then rolled her shoulders before looking at him. “Yes.”

He smiled, gently. “Welcome then.”

She’d attempted a smile but it had been awkward. But that had been enough. After that, Namjoon had been determined to find out more about her, to wedge himself into her life in a way that seemed almost unobtrusive. He wanted her to wake up and live her life with him a part of it. He wanted to be the air around her—so natural she couldn’t imagine life without him.

For weeks he’d simply asked her a question or two when he saw her. He was a teacher, after all. The only time he showed up to the university campus was when he was going to have lunch with Seokjin or trying to find a book in the library.

After a month, he’d noticed her looking for him in the courtyard. He’d had a real conversation with her then. He hadn’t expected anything to become of it, but she had seemed truly calm in his presence.

He’d tried to keep it to himself, to hold back his judgment so as not to scare her away. But he couldn’t. “I’m glad I can make you feel comfortable.”

She’d narrowed her eyes at him but it was playful. “How do you know I’m comfortable?”

“Something in the set of your shoulders,” he’d noted, his voice pondering. He looked away from her as he spoke, “something in the curve of your smile.”

She’d glanced at him and breathed out a sigh, the corners of her lips lifted in pleasure. “You do make me very comfortable.”

Two months later, he had shown up to her apartment to bring her soup and medicine after she had gotten sick and she had invited him in. He had only made it as far as her living room, but it was enough for him.

She had sunk into her couch, her legs cloaked in a woven blanket that she informed him was made by her grandmother. For the first time, he’d seen her face bare and he’d felt the moment his breath had left him. There was something about the glow of her skin, the faint flush on her cheeks. Even with a fever, she looked stunning.

He’d used the fire trick to stop himself from reaching out to touch her. He’d kept the flame light enough for her not to notice and held it steady until the lull in the conversation had afforded him a moment to leave.

At the door, she’d reached out a hand to his wrist and he’d stared at her with lips parted in shock. She had never touched him. He had only brushed her skin once on accident and then never again.

“Will you come by tomorrow?” She had asked, her voice tentative with a line of thrill that only he would hear.

He popped his jaw shut and forced himself to stay still. “Of course.”

She smiled that soft smile, only the corners of her mouth tilted up. “Good.” She stretched up on her tiptoes and used her hold on his wrist to tilt him down to her.

It was just a peck, but it felt like every moment he had felt fire on his skin, every drop of water that had ever flowed through his body, every breath he’d drawn, every grain of earth he’d moved at his will. He wanted to hold all of the elements in his body to commemorate this moment, to give it weight. Instead, he let out a breath as she pulled away and made his best effort to not point out the significance of the moment. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He pulled that moment out like a picture in a box and held it playing before him as his body moved him. He thought of her and how quickly she would notice his absence. He’d worked so hard to make himself indispensable but he’d all done was made it harder for her with his loss.

He couldn’t think of that. He couldn’t let himself think of her pain or it would break him. He would take responsibility for her pain when he returned but now he needed to protect his brothers.

He let their kiss replay again and let his feet carry him forward.

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180307 Hoseok’s Tweet

#HopeWorld #Airplane ✈️ #Hopefilm 📸📸 여러분들을 위한 선물 🎁

#HopeWorld #Airplane ✈️ #Hopefilm 📸📸 A present for you all 🎁

Trans cr: Jisoo @ allforbts © Please take credit when taking out

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180218 - Happy Hobi Day! To the one who go an extra mile to fill our days with laughter, hope, light, and inspiration, may this special day and all your other days be filled with happiness and love as much (and more) as you constantly give. Know that you are loved and important to all of us. Happy birthday our sunshine, our hope, and our angel, Jung Hoseok! ♡

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Angst for no. 15 with Mr Worldwide Handsome 😏

Seokjin + 15. Cold, Empty House

The last good memory youhad of him was two months ago. He’d gotten the whole weekend off and you’dcoaxed him into going with you to a farmer’s market to buy fresh ingredientsfor a dinner you would cook together. The rest of the day you’d spent at home doinghousehold chores and fighting over control of the music you had playing.

At the end of the day,you’d taken a shower while he folded the last of your laundry. As you put onyour pajamas, you heard the sweet cadence of Seokjin’s voice singing a song inthe bathroom and you allowed it to lull you into a comfortable warmth.

When he emerged, hesmiled at you and his hands wound around your frame. You melted into theembrace his arms provided you and let him slip off your clothes.

That had been the last timehe’d touched you. The next day he’d gone out of the country and when hereturned he’d been cold and distant. You’d tried reaching out to him, but hewouldn’t get in touch with you.

One day, you’d come backto your apartment to find he had been in it. He’d left only a note on yourcoffee table and taken all of his things with him.

You wrapped yourself inthe blanket you used to share. You were surprised that he hadn’t taken it, butyou supposed that he hadn’t quite considered it his.

It still smelled likehim, but you knew it wasn’t real. It was like the memory of his smell washaunting the apartment and you would feel it linger in the places he frequentedmost: the blanket, the medicine cabinet where he kept his cologne, the spot onthe couch where he always laid his head when he read.

If you closed your eyes,you could almost imagine him whining at you for hogging the blanket. You couldimagine the laugh in his voice as he tugged the blanket back to him.

You hissed out a sigh and squeezed your eyes shutagainst the tears.

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Junhoe+16+Fluff please!

Junhoe + 16. “I’ll warm you up.”

Junhoe was three layersdeep into his bed. It was far too cold and you were out of town visiting yourfamily. He’d taken to using his day off to gather back as much lost sleep as hecould so that when you did return he could spend the entire day with you.

He was reminded of thelast time he’d been with you. The weather had just begun to cool off and he’dfinally dug up his thick blankets from storage so you wouldn’t freeze to deathovernight. You’d been adamant that you would be fine, that you were strong, buthe knew you were too proud to complain and you would spend the night shiveringsilently rather than say something about the cold.

You’d let yourselfburrow into his side and he’d wound his arms around you. “I’ll warm you up,” he’doffered.

There was nothingspecial about the moment. It was perfectly insignificant in the grand scheme ofyour relationship. There had been other times when you’d cuddled, other timeswhen it had been cold outside, other times when you’d spoken at a whisper.

But he remembered thatmoment clearly as he fought off the cold. More than anything, he realized he wasin love with you. He’d had inklings of it before but he was certain then. He’dfelt in his chest and the warmth of his body and in the excitement in hisbrain. Like fireworks going off. Like chaos and madness but in the mostbeautiful way.

He needed to tell you. Hefelt it. He wanted to hear your voice. He wanted to see you.

His phone was far toocold outside of the blankets but he snuck it in under the sheets and dialedyou. “I love you,” he said before logic could stop him.

You laughed. “I know, stupid.”

He relaxed into thesound of your voice. “Yeah, but I wanted to remind you.”

You murmured a sound thatwas quieter and content. “Okay,” you said, “I love you too.”

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Jimin, 30, fluff/smut?

Jimin + 30. “Run away with me.”

He was being indulgent.That was why you’d spent all day in the bed of a hotel room that was welloutside of your usual price range. It was why, instead of heading to therestaurant less than a block away from the hotel, you had ordered over-pricedroom service.

It was an apology but itwas a good one.

He had been avoidingyou. At first, you’d been mad enough to ignore him altogether—all the whilemoping around in misery—but after a few weeks you’d gotten desperate. Notnormal desperate where you called him every day and left him long voicemailsasking where he was. Crazy desperate. Sitting on the bench outside his apartmentcomplex desperate waiting for him to come home from dance practice desperate.

Eventually you’d caughthim walking to the studio. You hadn’t been looking for him but as soon as you’dseen him, you’d run to catch up with him.

He’d ducked his head atyour gaze and skirted your eyes. He’d confessed that he’d been trying to decideif he should break up with you. Because he was afraid of hurting you. Becausehe never saw you. Because he wasn’t enough.

You’d chastised him andhe’d let you wail at him for almost a half hour before he’d finally taken yourhands into his and apologized.

Then had come the hotel.

You burrowed into hisside and felt his hand trace the line of your thigh. You sank into his touchand wound your body tighter to his. When you’d first arrived at the hotel, you’dtaken to the bed almost immediately and he’d spent hours devouring you beforeyou’d finally taken a break. You’d eaten, slept, and now, with darknessflooding the room from the giant window, you were finally getting the rest you’dneeded after weeks of worry.

“Run away with me,” youmurmured, on impulse.

He made a small smileand there was a light giggle in the back of his throat as he nuzzled yourcheek.

You smiled with him. “Wecould buy an island and make a shack from the palm trees.”

He laughed in earnestthen. “Let’s just start over in a new country. We’ll dye our hair and changeour names.”

“Deal,” you told him andyou beamed.

He kissed your forehead.“Silly,” he mumbled affectionately against your skin. He loved you and he washere and he was more than enough.

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hey everyone! i won’t be posting drabbles today because i needed to take a day off honestly to mourn, but i wrote jjong a letter on my blog if you’d like to read it, it may give you some comfort or something

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Hello!! Can I get the number 13 with Jhope?♡♡ Thank you!!

Hoseok + 13. Warm Heart, Cold Hands

A/N: you are an ANGEL. i wanted to write another hobi one so bad and this turned out so different than i thought it would but i kind of love it?

genre: supernatural!au

TW: mentions of blood, mentions of death

You were frozen solid.The wind had blown you in for the season but the snow had fallen on your frailframe and now you were nothing but a statue, a marble depiction of a girl withlittle to show for other than a faux fur coat and two healed-but-obvious holesat the base of her neck.

This would not kill you,you knew. But perhaps it would kill your conscious. Maybe eventually the stillnessand silence would be the only thing you remembered and not the blood. Not thedeath.

Even with the snowcovering you, you could make out when darkness fell. It was as if a blue dyewashed through the snow and made your eyes more alert to the movement past. Youshut your eyelids against it, against the reminder of who you were.

In your mind, you sawflashes of bodies. You saw those you’d left for dead. At the time, you’dcomforted yourself with the thought that you never actually seen them die. Forall you knew, they could’ve still been alive. But you knew better now. Theyhaunted you. Live people couldn’t haunt.

There was a crunch as someonetrekked through the ice and you cursed your foul luck. All you needed was forthem to leave. For them to sense the danger you posed and to walk resolutely inthe other direction. If they came close, you would lose all sense of controland the nightmare would begin again.

The steps got closer andyou bared your teeth for the first time in what’d felt like ages. The snow hadfrozen, melted, and refrozen over your skin so many times you couldn’t be seento a casual passerby but this person did not seem to be one of those people.

There was a crack then.A decisive, sharp sound that didn’t so much startle you as set you on edge. Handsdug through the shelter you’d built for yourself and made contact with yourbody. You didn’t have enough energy to fight back at their movements, so youhad no choice but to watch as they removed you from the ice and brought you outinto the moonlight.

It was a boy. And youimmediately why he’d been no casual passerby, why he’d found you so quickly.You wrinkled your nose, but it was all you could do to indicate yourdispleasure.

His face was toochipper. He eyed you for a moment then turned to a cooler at his side. As soonas he removed the lid, you could feel your fangs descending. You couldn’t movefrom weakness but it didn’t stop the insatiable thirst from burning your throat.

He brought the blood bagup to your mouth and tipped your head back to let it flow in past your lips. Ittook a moment, but suddenly you felt the limberness return to your arms and youreached up to squeeze the rest of the blood into your mouth.

“I have more if youwant.”

You stopped. You hadn’teven thought it was possible for you to stop, but his voice was so gentle itcaught you off guard. You ignored the kindness in it and brushed past him tograb at the cooler. “You smell awful.”

He pouted and he looked veryyoung and very sweet. You warned your heart not sink into it. “You do too. How doyou think I found you?”

You blinked at his wordsand popped a hole in a second bag with your fang, sucking it out like a juicebox. “Why bother finding me at all? I thought dogs were supposed to hate us.”

He grimaced. “It’s wolf,not dog.” Then he paused and his face became contemplative. “And I don’t knowwhy.” He shrugged. “It was like I wasn’t thinking.”

You bit back the urge tocomment how much of a dog answer that was and stopped yourself from grabbing ata third bag. “Thank you,” you said and your voice was much quieter and morecontrolled than you could’ve imagined it being.

He smiled and youunderstood what he meant about not thinking the instant that your body wantedto bury itself in his arms. You cursed your foul luck again. A mate wassomething to live for and that was the last thing you wanted.

“Stop smiling, dog,” youtold him but your voice was too fond.

He smiled wider.