#i pulled up pinterest like ‘ah! another beautiful day of drawing!’

[ratislatis]

hey (with rizz)

(jesus christ im looking at this from my pc now and you. like actually need to click on it to see what's going on. what the fuck)

[writeforcarat]

Home [Part 2]

—Cat Shelter Volunteer!Wonwoo × Reader (feat. Jun) —Fluff [PART 1]

The next morning, Wonwoo was jolted from his seat behind the reception desk, when he heard the front door open, only to see Jun—his co-volunteer who miraculously recovered from a bad bout of food poisoning overnight—walk into the shelter; the smile that had already formed at the corner of his lips abruptly waning into a pout.

“You okay?” Jun asked. The sudden change in his colleague's expression was too hard to miss.

“Er—” Wonwoo scratched the back of his head, trying to come up with an answer. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that? You had some bad sashimi over the weekend and now you seem fine.”

“Well, I’m still alive, aren’t I? But it looks like you’re not too happy to see me today. Or were you expecting someone else?” Jun asked with a smirk, raising an eyebrow inquisitively.  

“I just didn’t expect you to come in for work so soon. That’s all.”

Jun threw Wonwoo a look of suspicion before heading off to the locker room to leave his stuff.

Falling back in his seat with a sigh, Wonwoo tried his best to divert his thoughts because the truth was, he had been waiting for you. In fact, he pulled an all-nighter just to finish his project, so he could come to the shelter that day and break some good news to you. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been so excited about going to work.

You arrived about an hour later, the signed drop-off form in your hand. Expecting to see Wonwoo, you were quite disappointed to be greeted by an unfamiliar face from behind the reception desk. He was a good-looking young man—handsome, actually—but you couldn’t care less.

“May I help you?” he asked, noticing how you were anxiously looking over his shoulder.  

“I’m sorry—um—I’m looking for Wonwoo.” you said “I’m Y/N. He texted me last night about the cat I dropped off here yesterday.” You placed the drop off form on the desk.

“Ah,” the boy clapped his hands together, then collected the form for filing. “Wonwoo doesn't work here anymore."

"Wait, what?"

Laughing at your bewildered expression, the boy said, "I was kidding. He's at the back. Go have a seat, while I call him.”

“Thanks.” Slightly annoyed, you scooted over to the couches that were exhausted by deep scratches, as the not-so-funny jester disappeared from behind the desk.  

Wonwoo was tending to the cats in the playroom, but mostly looking after the cat you brought in, making sure the other cats don’t bother it. Its injured foreleg had been bandaged by the vet to ensure a speedy recovery.

“Hey, Wonwoo,” Jun called, peeking through door. “There’s a girl named Y/N waiting for you outside.”

“Oh,” Wonwoo’s head perked up, despite trying his best to conceal his excitement. Scooping the spotted white and grey cat he was petting, he stood up to exit the room.

“Last time I checked, people came here to look for cats and not humans like you,” Jun teased, to which Wonwoo responded with a “Shut up.”

“Just saying.”  

Wonwoo found you at the receiving area, flipping through the pages of a pet magazine's back issue. While he did think you looked attractive the first time he saw you (raincoat, wet hair, messed up makeup, and all), he was quite stunned by how beautiful you actually were.

For that day, you deliberately picked the nicest outfit you had—a lavender sun dress, which you paired with white canvas trainers. Although the ensemble was not exactly that special, it was an escape from your usual T-shirt-and-trousers get-up. It also took you a good 30 minutes to fix your hair into a ponytail that looked Pinterest-worthy kind of messy and not downright unruly.

“Y/N,”

You looked up to see Wonwoo, cradling the cat against his chest, walking towards you.

“Oh my, there she is,” you cooed, gingerly taking the cat in your arms from Wonwoo’s. Compared to the last time you saw her, she’s a lot cleaner now and looks much more relaxed. “How is she?”

“After running some tests yesterday, the vet ruled out serious infections and diseases,” Wonwoo said. “So yeah, apart from her sprained leg, she’s perfectly fine.”

“That’s great,” you exclaimed. “Heard that, Kitty? You’re okay!”

Your smile must have been infectious, because Wonwoo was beaming, too. Seeing you overjoyed like that made him inexplicably happy. “And… there’s more good news,” he continued.

“What is it?” You asked excitedly.

“Apparently, Kitty is expecting.”

“Oh my God!” You gasped, the cat stirring in your arms.

“The vet saw it in her X-ray results yesterday,” Wonwoo explained. “We thought we were going to find a fracture or, maybe, something worse, but what we got was something even better.”

“My goodness!” Excitement mixed with disbelief, your emotions were on an overdrive, your brain trying to process the information you’d just received. “She’s going to be a mum?”

“Yes, Y/N, Kitty's going to be a mum!”

You’d be lying if you said that you didn’t want to throw your arms around Wonwoo at that moment, because you did. What you didn’t know was that he felt the same way, too.

Soon enough, visiting the shelter had become part of your daily routine. You’d drop by early in the morning before going to work at the academy. Usually, you’d help out in taking care of Kitty—you decided to name her that, laughing off your lack of creativity—but you didn’t mind looking after the other cats as well. You had even memorised their names and how they looked.

Your presence at the shelter also became the volunteers’ new normal that they even encouraged you to be part of their team—an offer, which you politely declined due to the demands of your actual job. You assured them that you’d help them out whenever you could, though.

Wonwoo was the happiest about having you at the shelter almost every day. Little did he know that aside from Kitty, he was the main reason you visited so often. Together, you’d run errands and chores—some of which he previously did not enjoy doing, but with you around, the tasks he used to hate turned out to be so much more bearable.

You, too, liked spending time with Wonwoo. You especially loved how he’d tuck stray strands of your hair behind your ear as you cleaned after the cats, or how he’d bring you some snacks before you left for work—little gestures that never failed to send butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

One morning, just after refilling the cats’ feeding bowls, Wonwoo finally approached you to ask you out for dinner. The invitation came out as a mumble at first, but when you said you couldn’t understand him, he repeated it, his words loud enough for Jun to turn around and give him two thumbs up. Blood rushed to his cheeks, making him blush in embarrassment.

“I thought you’d never ask,” you smiled and his bashfulness was replaced by elation. You agreed to meet at a restaurant near your academy later that day.

Over dinner, you got to know more things about Wonwoo, like how he couldn’t eat seafood (you ordered pork barbecue and vegetable wraps instead), how enthusiastically he’d geek over videogames, how he’d makes use of puns to make up for his dry sense of humour, and how he’d make this adorable nose scrunch whenever he laughed (okay, you had seen it before, but it was a sight you’d never get tired of).

Everything he did and said were so endearing, and just when you thought you couldn’t find him any more attractive, he’d do something and you’d feel your heart skip another beat.

You capped off that night at a café, your conversations getting deeper and more personal as time wore on. He’d told you about his dream of becoming a singer, which his family dismissed as a waste of time. You'd also opened up to him about why you came to Seoul in the first place.

“I needed a change in my life. A change of environment,” you said, stirring your cup of hot chocolate. “Things back at where I’m from were not exactly working out as planned, so I left to have another start, search for happiness, and, maybe, find a new home, too.”

Your gazes met, and you realised that your eyes were welling with tears. You didn’t want to be a dramatic mess on your first date, but there you were—overwhelmed by bottled up feelings that only Wonwoo was able to draw out from you.

“How about now?” Wonwoo asked softly, taking your hand resting on the table into his. A warm smile formed on your lips at the sight of your hands intertwined. “Are you happy?”

“I think it’s too early for me to answer that,” you glanced back up at Wonwoo, who was looking intently at you. “But right here, right now, I’m feeling so much better... with you.”

Gaaaaah!!! This is my attempt at writing fluff, and I dunno if it’s working at all! Nevertheless, I hope you enjoyed Part 2! I wish I get the time to work on Part 3 soon, which would probably the last instalment of this story. NGL, I still can’t believe this turned out to be longer than I thought it would be.

[secret-rendezvous1d]

I just had a piece of cheesecake and it sparked a thought about sitting on the kitchen floor at 3 AM and sharing a cheesecake with Harry at the early stages of the relationship, sharing thoughts about life and what we'd want it to be. Talking about the idea of having a future together and what kind of wedding we'll have or names for the kids but all in hypothetical sense so we end up laughing and kissing with the sweet taste of the cheesecake still in our mouths.

He’s always loved her kitchen.

It’s small and fitting to her tiny flat and it joins on to her living room and it’s not large and it didn’t make him feel lonely, like his would do at 3 in the morning. It’s full of trinkets and it looks like it belongs on a page on Pinterest and it follows a scheme of red and white, with a few blacks thrown in, and there isn’t a hint of a dirty dish, except the plate they were sneaking pieces of cheesecake off, or a used glass, all but the tea mugs they were sipping out of, in sight. It’s warm, too, and he doesn’t feel the need to wrap up in a thick blanket or grab the black hoodie he’d thrown over the back of one of her dining table chairs upon his arrival the previous morning. The tiles don’t numb his bum to the point where he can’t feel it and his toes don’t feel like they’re going to fall off into chunks of ice and there isn’t a single goosebump appearing anywhere on his skin.

It wasn’t where he expected them to be, at 3 in the morning, but he had no complaints. Devouring a homemade Millionaire’s Shortbread cheesecake between themselves, one that was made for a party  that had been cancelled last minute, chocolate ganache clinging to their lips and crumbs, from the biscuit base, falling to the floor. He’s know her for 6 months, bagged her as his own just a little under 3 weeks ago… and she’s never looked more beautiful to him. Her hair stuck up in one of the messiest ponytails he’d ever seen, her body clad in a pair of white sleep shorts and a long-sleeved t-shirt that was a too large on her torso, and she had a face free of make-up. And even with chocolate beginning to clump at the corners of her lips, he was even more infatuated with her.

“Did I do good? Would Adie have liked this cheesecake?”

“She’d have been asking for more,” Harry grins, his teeth a little stained with the thick chocolate that hadn’t quite been devoured and introduced to his tastebuds, “it’s delicious. I never knew you were quite the baker.”

“You’re not the only one who used to be a baker, Styles,” she teases, nudging her foot against his with a smirk residing her lips. Only just being visible to his eyes.

“Ah-ah. Correction. I was the cashier of a bakery, I’ll have you know. I did pretty good. Gained a talent of slipping money from the tray,” he snickers, “I’m not all good voice and better looks. I have a talent for slipping the correct change out of a cash register and handing it over. You, my dear, are the baker between the two of us. A bloody good baker, if I do say so myself.”

Her cheeks flush pink and she couldn’t be more thankful for the darkened room around her. The minimal light being enough to hide the heat that flowed around her face.

“I didn’t do any baking for this though. It’s just mixing, pouring, spreading and using the fridge.”

“Well, Adie’s missing out on a lot,” he digs his fork into the circular edge of the cheesecake and pulls a piece free, the chocolate stringy and sticking to his chin as he wrapped his lips around the metal cutlery, “it’s so good. You’ll be on dessert duty whenever we have house parties or whenever we’re invited to mum’s for the weekend. If you can make a Christmas pudding, then, to my mum, we’re practically married.”

There’s a silence that swallows the room. Comfortable and relaxing rather than uncomfortable and wishing the ground would swallow them whole. The occasional scrape of forks against the china as they took more mouthfuls of the cheesecake that had slowly gone from a whole circle to a semi-circle with chunks taken out of everywhere.

“Do you-”

“You know-”

There’s soft giggles that erupt from within them as he pushes the plate of cheesecake to the side and shuffles towards her, taking up the space beside her and resting back against the cupboard. A knee bent up as his other straightened out, warm toes curling around hers as her head lulls to his shoulder.

“You first,” she whispers, slipping the fork back between her lips to lick the remnants of the dessert left behind, “you can go first.”

“Do you maybe, uh, do you maybe want to spend Christmas with me this year? I know it’s a bit early to think about, or even agree to, considering we’ve only really been together for 3 weeks but I’d really like to spend it with you,” his head tilts to the side, his cheek pressed against her head as her hand came to rest upon his thigh, “granted we’re together then. We could do two Christmases, if you really wanted to. We could spend Christmas with my family and then we could do New Years with yours. Or the other way around. I mean, no one has really made any plans because it’s only July and December isn’t for another 5 months but it’s good to get early planning in, right? Or we cou-”

“Shut up,” she giggles, lifting her head up to look at him, “if it’s okay with your family, and if there’s some space at the dining table, and enough to go around, then I’d really like that. My parents are always away for the Christmas holidays and I originally go to Adie’s place because we usually have Christmas dinner together.”

“That works out then,” he looks down at her, “what did you want to say?”

She shakes her head and presses a kiss to his cheek.

“It doesn’t matter now.”

“No, come on. Tell me,” she feels a nudge to her side and a sheepish smile appears on her lips, “tell me, love. Never know what I’ll say if you don’t tell me.”

“It’s nothing now. I promise,” she hides her face in his neck and shakes her head, “I was just going to tell you how I feel right now. How this feels so right and how I wouldn’t want to be doing this with anyone else. I don’t have any guy just come in here and sit with me in my kitchen and eat some of the cheesecake I made for a cancelled dinner-party,” she feels an arm snake around her shoulders and she cosies up closer into his side, throwing a leg over his thighs, “I just wanted you to know that. I think you’re the first guy who’s stayed the night. The first guy I’ve ever had, I suppose. Unless you count male friends. But that’s never for anything. Jus-”

“Hey, shut up,” he mocks, his lips pressing against her forehead, “I’m honoured. I plan on being the only guy you ever bring back here, you know that, yeah? Excluding your male friends, of course.”

“I wouldn’t want that any other way,” she hums in content and clenches her toes, “the right side of my bed? I want it to be your side. I want your body dent in my mattress. I want your smell on the pillow. The bedside table on that side? That’s yours to fill with whatever. I want boxes of condoms in the draw and an extra charger because you’ll always forget that and a bottle of your cologne on the top because you know it’s my favourite scent of yours,” she pulls her head from his neck and looks at him, “I want you to pick a favourite coffee cup and claim it as yours for whenever you stay over and I want you to leave clothes here, or boots in my hallway cupboard, so that you never have to leave to get more.”

“I want to leave a bottle of my shampoo in your shower, maybe some body-wash of mine, and get a toothbrush for when I stay here, because I can’t keep using yours, no matter how many times you say it’s okay,” he snickers, his nose nudging hers softly, “I want to ‘accidentally’ leave my favourite hoodie here, or leave my gym trainers here, so that I have to come here, to knock on your front door, to get them and to see you before I get busy with my day.”

Her nose pinches in disgust.

“And leave my hallway cupboard with the smell of your stinky shoes? No thank you.”

“My shoes don’t smell, you nutter.”

She snickers and pushes up from the floor, straddling his lap as she perched on his thighs, hands held tightly in his as she laced her fingers through his slender digits.

“I want to do this more often, you know? I want you to stay over more, and I want to stay over at your place, and I want to cuddle because you make me feel less lonely when I don’t have anyone around,” she admits, “I want us to watch reruns of Friends on a Sunday or your favourite rom-coms because you hate not watching the unexpected and like knowing what’s coming. I want to wake up to your pretty face in the morning and say goodbye to you when you have to leave me for work.”

He smiles and nods into the darkness.

“Think that sounds absolutely perfect. Life sounds so good when you’re involved,” he squeezes her hands, “god bless the day you spilt coffee all over my new boots.”

“Don’t remind me!” xx