#i will eat food thats fallen on the floor in my own home but i will also end up in tears about heavy metals in store bought dried herbs

[forgetleighnot]

cant remember which one of my friends asked me about whether or not i have contamination issues due to my ocd and i really looked them in the face and said "nah not really" forgetting i fully had a meltdown about aluminum foil like 4 months ago

[deleteddewewted]

Hello! How are you, and I have a request if you wish to do it. So I was thinking of a College AU with Shinsou working there as a part-time employee, then one day fem! reader comes in and at first he is like “Pfft whatever” but then he brings dropping his tsunade behavior and beings growing soft for her while he got to know her and he has seen her rescue a kitten in which he asked to help co-parent their child. He is doing it to get to know her more because he fell for her, but she is a bit oblivious when it comes to ✨feelings✨. I thought this would make a cute HC/ Drabble, however you wish to do it, of how their relationship began to bloom at the local coffee shop.

AAAAHHHH!!!! YES!

Happy Birthday to Shinsou Hitoshi!💜

The most adorable, handsome, and overall best purple headed boy on the show (Fuck off Mineta).

To Take Care of a Stray: Shinsou Headcanons

Barista! Shinsou x F! Reader

FLUFF

As any college student would tell you, cheap caffeinated drinks were a must.

Coffee specifically was a must.

Shinsou was honestly debating if he needed his 3rd cup of coffee that morning or if he could just wing it and go on with an empty tank.

He procrastinated when it came to his assigned project, plus his project partner ditched him, so he was practically all alone figuring his shit out.

And thats how he found himself working at his local coffee shop.

He hated every single customer that would come in at any hour of the day that he work on.

They all demanded his attention and honestly, some days he wished he could just scream in their faces that "No, i don't give a fuck about your pet bird speaking back to you. I'm only here to make you your coffee and take your money."

The cheap coffee was worth it though, so he keeps the complaining to a minimum.

Retail is honestly a "no reward" type of job. The amount of entitlement that some people have baffles him at times.

Around his second year in college he ends up working the late shift to make some extra cash. It also meant less people coming in and demanding an overly complicated drink. Score!

The sound of the rain pouring down helped calm his nerves and allowed him to relax for moment before the door of the shop swung open.

"Oops, sorry. Didn't mean to do that." The first time you walked into the shop you accidentally pulled the door with too much force that it ended up slamming into the wall.

Shinsou immediately didn't like you.

Who the fuck was this woman?

You went up the counter and told him your order taking out your money and handing it to him.

Clean and simple. Nothing special.

Then you came back again a few days later. That really fucked with him.

Most customers came in and never bothered to talk to him. He wanted their money while they wanted the shitty coffee they sold. Easy, right?

Nope, not with you apparently. You came in and asked about his day, how his studies were going, and if anything interesting happened in the shop.

He would respond with brief answers and immediately ignored you afterwards.

You were just so annoying.

..Ok, maybe not.

You were funny, the way you fumbled and played it off as you being intentional.

The way your mouth would widen into a smile anytime he spoke back to you.

You weren't overly energetic, nor overly happy. You were just nice, nice to him.

He wasn't use to that.

You fascinated him just because you existed and he wanted to learn more about you.

He got his chance on the 5th time you came in.

You usually came in at a specific time, always when there was barely any customers, but today you didnt' show up at all.

He wont admit it but he got concerned and would keep looking at the clock on the wall and back to the door of the coffee shop.

When you finally came in, you had scratches on your hand and on your cheek.

"What the fuck happened to you?" He leaned onto his hand that was placed on the counter top. His body relaxed and only showed boredom.

In reality he was terrified, you had scratches on your hands and red streaks too. Why?

"Oh, i was just- i fell into a bush." You gave him a smile that made his heart flutter and legs go weak.

He was so happy he was leaning on the counter because he hadn't he would have fallen onto the floor.

Your smile just had that affect on him.

"How stupid can you be? Look were your going next time."

"Aww, thanks sir!"

Good mood was gone. He told you not to treat him like your friend, thats not what you both are.

...But he really hated that you took that very literally and didn't bother to at least call him by his last name.

"Hmm." He gave you your usual and answered the questions you had for him that day.

You started to come in 4 times a week and every time you did he would notice new scratches on you.

The scratches weren't that bad, he thought maybe you were one those "adventures" types, but the red marks were concerning him.

When he would ask you about them you always had a different excuse for them.

"My backpacks straps are bit rough."

"I placed my arm wrong on the table"

It was this or that but never a concrete answer.

It was happening every time you came in so something had to be wrong.

He gathered up the little cuarage he had and decided to ask you what you were doing.

"Why do have so many scratches on you?" You werent expecting him to be so blunt but you happily told him to meet you after his shift at the nearby alleyway.

He was suspicious of you but he was also curious, he desperately needed answers because the concern for your wellbeing was getting to be too much for him.

He followed your instructions and walked towards the alleyway you directed him to.

When he turned the corner he saw the most beautiful scene in the world.

You were surrounded by cats...and you were giving them food.

He could die happily then and there.

"W- this is why you show us with scratches all over you!?" You nodded but got up and walked over to a cardboard box that was tucked under a bigger box.

You told him to follow and when he crouched down to see what was in it he saw two huge eyes staring back at him.

"You've been- this little thing is the reason for your scratches?"

"Yep!"

He laughed at you and helped you feed all of the cats.

When the two of you finished up, you picked up the box that the small kitten was tucked in and gave it a pat on the head.

"What are you going to do with the kitten?" Shinsou asked you.

"Well, i wish i could take it with me but i don't think i'd be able to take care of it since i work early in the morning and have classes late at night."

Shinsou's mind started planning.

He really liked you and wanted to be around you more often.

Shit, if he was brutally honest he had a crush on you.

"Well, i have classes early morning while i work at night. So...why don't we co-pa-... i mean co-care for the little guy?" He knows his ears were red, he knows his face was starting to turn red as well.

But he wasn't about to admit that he really wanted you to say "yes".

"Uh, ok. Sure!"

Shinsou was over the moon with this and it was all going so perfectly as well.

The kitten would spend the mornings with you and in the afternoons the two of you would meet up to take care of it together.

You both decided to name the kitten Mieko.

""Beautiful blessing child", thats a cute name! Why do you want to call him that?"

"Because...i want to- y-you idiot. Stop asking so many questions!" You just laughed at him and gave him a pat on the shoulder.

Shinsou melts.

Shinsou would bring the kitten with him to work since his boss had a soft spot for animals.

Imagine how exited he was when you first invited him into your own apartment.

"You have your own place? Color me impressed."

"Thanks Shin." Shinsou blushed a little at the nickname. It had been over a month that you both agreed to take care of the kitten together.

The more time he spent with you the more he fell.

"I hope you like the umm...book." This was another thing that started after the two of you began to co-parent the kitten. He would bring you gifts and act like it meant nothing.

Reality is that he was courting you.

He expected you to make a comment on his gifts but you glossed over them like nothing.

It was getting on his nerves.

"Aah, hey. Do you want to take Mieko out for a walk...again."

"Was that a question or a demand?" You laughed at him

You made it look easy with how much you make him blush.

The more time you both spent with each other, the more Shinsou realized he was truly in love with you and wanted you to be by his side.

But he was facing a problem. You.

You wouldn't pick up on the hints he was dropping on you. His interest on you.

So one day he decides to just tell up upfront if you would like to go on a date with him.

"Hey Shin, do you want to go on a date with me?"

Shinsou. exe has stopped operations

"W-wha-"

"I'm joking buddy! But seriously do you want to go out to eat? I think Mieko would-"

"W-WHaT!? F-fuck no!" That upset you because you thought he might like free lunch.

"You could've just said no." He was losing you, again.

Fuuuuuuuck!!!!!

"N-no wait! What i wanted to say was umm, would you like to go out with me? Like a date! N-not like friends."

You both just stared at each other for a moment, the silence only making the situation worse.

"...Sure."

Mieko, your child, just blinked at the two of you.

"These two ridiculous humans are my parents, great." At least this lead to Shinsou moving in with you and Mieko having a permanent home now.

Double the pats for the two new people in your home, double the purring sounds, double the angry and grouchy cats begging for your attention.

Who wold trade this? You got to cuddle with the two most adorable people in this world.

"I'm not fucking adorable Y/n!"

"Shush Toshi or you're not getting cuddles and kisses."

"....fine."

[y-just-starve-z]

Realistic Thinspo Imagine!!!

When you wake up you are very cold. You look over to make sure the heated blanket is still on, and make sure no blanket had fallen off of the bed. As you attempt to turn under the blankets that are half your body weight your knee knocks into the other and you feel a spike of pain along with a searing cold. You hiss and sit up, looking at the clock. It was Saturday, 1:48 PM and no one had woken you up. You had one text from a friend across the world. "just hit my first goal weight!!!" it reads. You scoff and climb out of bed, pulling up one of your socks as you do. Immediately you feel colder than before and rush to grab your pair of fluffy pants and a too-big sweat shirt. You hesitate before deciding not to put them on yet. You're about to strip and piss and purge before you weigh yourself, rather not be wearing clothes until after.

Sighing you walk through the hallway to the bathroom. Flicking on the dim light you're met with your two best friends.

the toilet and the scale.

Stripping down has become daily routine, along with pressing on your bladder to get as much out as possible. You know something is still in there. Standing up from the toilet you get on the scale.

106.8 pounds.

Those numbers made you happy four days ago, but things have changed. You've seen those same numbers for the past for days, except for the last one. That '8' used to be a '6'. You growl in frustration and reach up to grip at your hair. As your hand pulls away, no longer clenched, bunches of hair comes out as well. You feel ready to puke at the sight, so you do. Washing the hair off your hands and then shoving 3 fingers down your throat, because you got used to 2, while your free hand clutches the toilet seat.

Stream of nothing slides from your throat and your hand is covered in bile. You didn't pull it away fast enough.

Once you're done you step back on the scale.

105.9

Good.

For now.

The glee never lasts long.

You pull on your clothes and make your way back to your room to grab your water bottle. You chug half of it, 16oz on an empty stomach always makes you sick. The trip to the kitchen is fast, much to fast for your liking and you turn away from the fridge and instead begin to make some tea.

"Always drinking tea," your parent taunts. you turn to face them. "if you would eat some real food you wouldn't look like a skeleton"

you can't keep tour memory from jumping to last week, when you almost started to binge but they caught you then too. "You're such a fat pig! D'you think we have enough money for all this food you eat? This is disgusting"

You zone out while you get yelled at for being skinny, only coming to attention when the kettle begins to whistle. You pour your tea and your parent leaves. Sighing you head back to your room. The sugar packets hidden in the draw labelled "zero calorie" make you feel at ease, maybe you could break this plateu. You watch dieting video on YouTube as you sip the tea you've grown to hate.

When the mug is empty you go back for more, and do some situps once you get back to your room.

It's Saturday, 4:58 PM and you need to go for a walk.

Well, you don't need to, but some urge in your gut is telling you to walk. Walk, and walk and never come back to this god awful house. You scratch at your dry skin before you pull on shoes. When had you begun to get dressed for a walk?

Soon enough you find yourself outside in the 80° F heat, wearing fluffy sweatpants and the thickest sweatshirt you own as you walk. You don't have a destination, and there is no turning point. Your phone is on 39% and you dont have any water. Your green tea sits there, abandoned on your desk.

It's Saturday, 7:12 PM and you've just returned home. Around 6:08 PM you passed out and decided to head back. Stepping into the doorway the yelling immediately starts.

"Where have you been? You've been gone for hours! Do you know how hot it is? Why are tiu wearing that? You're going to get kidnapped one of these days! Why didnt you answer the phone?"

You stand there, back to the door, spit to the face, taking every insult and degredation. Once part of you screams to run and the other says you deserve this. Everything in you says to eat.

But no. You're being sent to your room. No dinner as a punishment for "running off like that".

It almost seems like a reward. You strip down naked in front of your bedroom mirror, as you do everynight. In the mirror you can see thighs. Thighs admittedly smaller than when you started, but no gap. When you look down you don't see one either. You blink. There's the floor. You blink. There's my thighs. The never opening gap that's only limit is the fat surrounding it.

You look up into the mirror. In the mirror you see a stomach. Bigger than your breats. Your stomach hanging over your thighs, just a smudge. You hadn't noticed before but you can feel where your stomach touches your thighs as you sit. You go to place your hand on your stomach and find it's farther away than you though. Something almost sharp pokes the side of your hand. You blink. Ribs. You blink. Fat.

fat

fat

fat

Fat

Fat

Fat

FAt

FAt

FAt

FAT

FAT

FAT

FAT

FAT

FAT

FAT

FAT

FAT

FAT

FAT

FAT

FAT

stop.

you cloose your eyes and breathe.

"i just want to be skinny"

you whisper into your room.

but thats a front.

you just want to be heard

you just want to be seen

you just want to be listened to

you just want to be free

you just want to smile

and be happy

and love your parent

and not have to worry about numbers.

You wipe your cheeks as there are tears still there. still naked you crawl into bed and look at the time.

It's Saturday, 11:14-

It's Sunday, 2:04 AM. You don't remember staying up this late, but your phone screen glares at you. Sighing, you get as comfortable as you can with the matress and yiur ribs fighting and your ankles digging into one another and finding clumps of hair where clumps of hair shouldn't be.

You fall asleep.

You wake up cold, and roll over to make sure the heated blanket is still on. The pile of blankets trap you in their tangles and you find it hard to breathe.

[jungnoir]

ik uve gotten a lot of asks for this but i just reread battlecry for what i Believe is the 7th time and i just. 😭😭 you said we’re never getting a sequel but can i get a crumb😭😭 a single sentence about what happens after, ANYTHING 😭😭😭 spare content maam, spare content?? will she and jaem have a falling out.... will she and JENO have a falling out...... how will her parents react.... would jeno feel too guilty and give her up, despite what she wants...... the possibilities.... r endless....

omg wait just realized i might have sounded a bit pushy or just. Annoying and kinda rude in general in the last ask IM SORRY THATS 110% NOT MY INTENTION

no dw bb you’re okay!! this ask honestly made me laugh ashfisjf and yes there are so many possibilities!!! I guess I can give you insight into one of them,, perhaps. it’s been so long though so I apologize if it’s disapointing. tw: light gore, mentions of torture, pretty dark. kinda just real sad in the beginning. here’s battlecry for those who haven’t read it. also, the song this is named after is really good and I recommend it!!

when the bones are good;

“Wretched boy,” whip, “wretched, cursed boy,” whip, “you’re a devil! You bring ruin to my family!”

One would think that after weeks of this, Jeno would be used to the blinding pain of a horse whip at his back. The first few hits reopen old wounds, ones that burn against rough fabric and heavy metal and the sweat of a day’s work protecting the kingdom. It just gets worse the longer they go on, until he’s crying into his bindings, wishing the saltwater would melt away the rope and he could try to run. He tried so many a time before. What made him think he had a better chance this time? Or the next? Or the next? Because there would always be a next.

Jeno no longer pleads. He takes the punishment in stride, hoping to the gods that have abandoned him to at least spare him a moment of ignorant bliss. No pain. 

Whip!

A choked sob leaves his throat and by some miraculous mercy, the whip hits him no more after that. He slumps against the disgusting chamber floors that are covered in the remains and innards of everyone who has met their fate here. Traitors, thieves, murderers, him. 

He is only held up by his tied up hands, keeping him from laying fully on the ground, suspending him in the air because his legs are too weak to do anything but give out. He’s lucky to still have his trousers, for his shirt is all torn to shreds in a corner of the chamber somewhere, so the cold stings against his bleeding wounds relentlessly. He huffs and puffs and with each breath, a cloud of vapor follows. It’s going to be freezing tonight. They may as well just kill him here.

Jeno can hear the king’s footsteps but he doesn’t dare open his eyes or look over his shoulder. He doesn’t get a choice though, when the king spins him around harshly and his back is pressed up against the jagged stone wall. He cries out again, being met by a sharp slap to the face. Jeno is silent at once. “Why I ever showed mercy to that abhorrent wench of a mother you have, I will never know. I should have killed both her and you that night and you know it.”

Jeno nods, knowing that if he refuses to respond he’ll just get hurt more. He’d really like to go to sleep now. 

“To think,” the king spits in Jeno’s face, “I gave a bastard peasant boy a place to sleep, food to eat, a place as close to my dearest jewel no man but me will ever have… and you had the audacity to come here in your mother’s name, knowing full well what I’d do to you if I found out. The very arrogance you have, walking these palace grounds for so long, plotting my demise… I ought to hang you in the square where everyone can see you for the treacherous demon you are.”

Jeno could imagine it. The townspeople taking turns to spit on him, calling him a devil child, sentencing him to death beside his mother. He hadn’t seen her since the day she laid the curse on you, the day he’d been found out by the king for his relation to the witch. That was the day the torture started, and if it wasn’t for how suspicious his sudden disappearance would be, Jeno would already be dead by now. 

Things were stiff now that all eyes were on the king. He couldn’t easily dispose of the witch’s spawn like he’d been doing to the others like him for the last few decades, lest the uprisings really take flight. For now, he’d have to wait until the excitement cooled down, and then…

“Leave him here. Hopefully the night will kill him before I have to. I’m far too exhausted to exert the effort.” Jeno hears the king’s voice as he stands and walks out of the cell, followed by the clang of the door slamming shut. It leaves a ringing in his ears that makes him whimper. He, too, hoped the night would kill him first. He couldn’t bear to see your face after your father no doubt fed you some lies about him being the reason for your curse in the first place. The hate you’d harbor for him as he made his way to be executed… he didn’t dare to imagine it.

Where was home?

With his mother? The witch who’d bred him to be her revenge, abandoning the just cause of protecting her coven and avenging her fallen witches in order to spill the king’s blood? The witch who sent him as an agent, meant to orchestrate her plan in slaughtering the royal family for their continued persecution of witches? The witch whose magic sizzled in his veins? The witch who abandoned him the moment he’d confessed “I’m in love”? 

Or was it with you before all this happened? The golden summer days of adolescence where the two of you were just children in love, and there was no curse, and there was no Jaemin, and the king and queen still thought of him as good? With you, the loving princess who didn’t emulate a single ounce of her father’s true nature?

Or was it in the night, when sparks of forbidden energy flowed through his fingertips and created images of a life where Jeno was happy and safe? Was it in the comfort of his “dark” magic, the very thing he kept hidden to save his life?

Home was… it was a rocking carriage. 

Jeno bolts upright and instantly regrets it when his back protests, making him cry in agony. He doesn’t know where he is, only that he’s moving, like he’s being carried somewhere. A hand on his cheek makes him alert to his surroundings at once.

It’s quiet and dark and there’s a hooded figure staring down at him. A familiar voice coos at him, “Please be careful… your wounds only just stopped bleeding.”

It’s you. You’re there. He can feel warmth wrapped around his body and he looks down to see bandages curled tight around his ribs and chest. A loose, peasant’s shirt is hanging off his body but it’s still thick enough to keep him warm, and then there’s a blanket hanging off his shoulders too. 

There’s a small lantern in your hands that lights up your sweet face. Jeno so badly wants to kiss you again. Instead, he blinks back his overwhelming love and asks the burning question on his mind, “Where are we?”

Your hand flutters from his cheek, leaving the boy whining softly in the loss of contact, but it’s only to help readjust his blanket. “The woods. We’re headed for the Na Kingdom.”

A hand much different from your own touches his shoulder, and before Jeno can react the way he’s been bred to, there’s a another blanket being draped over him. Jeno chances a look over his other shoulder and finds another hooded figure, and though the light scarcely meets his face, the features are apparent. 

Jaemin’s lips are pulled tight in a small frown, but he cannot hide the softness in his eyes when Jeno meets them. “It will be a long journey, and we will have to stop a few times for supplies and such. It’ll be trouble trying to smuggle so many people out of the kingdom after the ordeal.”

“I like our odds,” you perk up from beside Jeno, leaning in close to him to provide some warmth, “Renjun knows this land like the back of his hand, and Mark’s been working on cloaking spells for months now.”

It’s only then that Jeno recognizes a sleeping figure at the far end of the carriage, a boy curled up in some hay and sleeping peacefully, no doubt the court mage he’d been watching monitor you for weeks. He could only then assume that Renjun was leading the carriage from outside. His mind, putting things together slowly but surely, wonders how you’d both convinced them to come with you. “Did something happen…? Did your father threaten your life?” 

“He might as well have.” Your voice hardens, but it’s not directed at him. No, your anger is saved solely for the man who raised you, “To beat you… to dare lay his hands on you the way he did… he might as well have done the same to me. It hurts me just the same.”

You were doing this for him. 

Jaemin shuffles a little closer at his other side, adding even more warmth to the freezing boy, “…you have been my friend these past few weeks and I could not ask for more kindness from you even if I was that selfish,” Jeno shudders, unable to comprehend, “what happened… we can discuss at a later time. Right now, your safety and the safety of your people is all that matters to me. We cannot let the king get away with his atrocities. When we get home, I’ll see to it that the treaty is ended and that my father rights her father’s wrongs. I promise that all witches will be safe.”

Jaemin was doing this for him. Why would anyone…?

“That’s right. Jaemin’s kingdom is safe for all. We will make this right, Jeno.” You place a soft kiss to his forehead, enveloping the boy in a hug so tight but so loving that he can ignore the pain for now.

With one hand on your arm, Jeno places the other on Jaemin’s, shocking the prince, “Your highness, I swear to you my life. I will protect both you and (Y/N) even if it kills me.”

The small frown on Jaemin’s lips wavers some at that. Jeno can’t tell what it means, only that he hates seeing the prince look so pained. He’d gotten used to the smiles and laughter. He hated knowing he was the reason for its absence. He would do anything he could to fix-

Jeno is startled when the prince suddenly collapses into his side in a fit of soft crying, tears rushing out of his eyes so fast that the shoulder of Jeno’s blanket is soaked in seconds. The prince has wrapped himself tight around the knight, tight like you, and yet again, the pain is bearable. “You’re an idiot, Jeno,” Jaemin swears through gritted teeth, “don’t talk to me like a knight. Talk to me like you talk to (Y/N). Talk to me like I mean something to you. I care about you.”

You, too, are sniffling into Jeno’s opposite shoulder, rubbing at his arms to fight against the night air.

It’s strange. “I… care about you, too. I’m sorry.” He says and you lay down like that, fall asleep like that. It’s so, so strange. This feels pretty close to a home.

[voidselfshipp]

Golden Leaves

Ok to rb

Choking mention(in self defense)

--jer...jer wake up babe come on--hellboy says softly moving his girlfriend.

Jerico groans grabbing his hand--five more minutes...

He sits besides her leaving the breakfast besides him,red picks jerico up and presses her against his chest,kissing her neck.

--Fine fine fine! Ya me levanto! --(fine fine fine ill get up!) She said grabbing the cup of tea.

He chuckles kissing her cheek--they are going to send you to catch nuada the royal assness of the elf empire huh?

Jeri almost chokes on her drink--royal assness?

--Yeah hes an asshole--he said--but nothing my brave hot girlfriend cant take

She rolls her eyes and nuzzled his neck.

Oh how she wished shed could stay like this a bit longer.

She had to go eventually, its still dark outside,the stench of the sewers clung to her clothes --not even clorox Will take this horrid smell off of this...

Hearing faint talking and the noise of someone moving she hides, there he was Prince nuada training with his spear.

She gasps softly, he was quite handsome.

"Reds gonna kill me" she thinks as her eyes scan him, in case of any threats...of course...

However the elf seem to notice her somehow-- you can come out now..

Nothing.

He walks towards her looking behind the pipe she was hiding behind.

Nothing again?

--hey!,looking for me?!-- Jers clawy hands wrap around his neck--now heres whats going to happend asshole you come with me back to the B.P.R.D and nobody gets hurt

--Youre an excelent fighter-- he said dropping his weapon putting his hands up-- and very pretty

That did catch her off guard but she shakes her head--compliments wont save you Pal,think of something better

Nuada is about to say something when they hear people coming towards them.

--There they are! Catch them!

Jerico looks at the elf-- you know these guys?!

She lets him go and he picks up his weapon--they have been after me for months, id advice you to run--he grabbed her hand running with her--lets go!

They ran through the sewers to a final exit out of a manhole, quickly running through the busy streets as the sun appears on the Sky.

They seem to loose them as they take a breather on a alleyway.

--carefull!--nuada cages jerico hiding her behind his body, slightly hovering over her.

Their noses touch as their lips are ghosting over the others.

the hunters walk right past them.

He backs off and sheathes his spear-- lets call it a truce-- he looks away hiding the slight blush on his pale skin.

--Yeah...I think we should...--jer walks outside seeing the hotel around them-- the golden leaf hotel?

Nuada is behind her, his chest meeting her back.

--would be a good cover...

Jeri sighed--i know the owner of hotel chain, lets go

As they enter the reception a woman walks towards them

--sorry but we are all booked.

Jerico sighs showing the Mark on her clavicle, an a with horns-- scarlett red,a hellhound howls,but family remains the same...

The woman nodds--follow me..

As they walk nuada puts a hand on her shoulder--what does that mean?

She shakes her head--ill tell ya later...

Its the last room at the top floor,they enter and its huge.

She falls on the couch and the elf prince just stands there-- what are you doing?

--resting?

--resting?, you should be securing the place!

--okay you royal assness-- she said sitting up-- I know this place is secure

He crossed his arms walking away towards one of the rooms , waving her off.

--Jamils gonna kill me

She grabbed the phone on the small table dialing her sisters number.

Nuada can help but listen to her conversation.

--hey Jamil, yeah its me, no no,im okay, just on the job you know,I met a very cute elf Prince-- nuada smiles looking away with his arms crossed--no no, I dont think hes into me anyway..., hey could you bring Us some food up here?, the one mom always made whenever we have family dinner,yeah that one!, hey and jamil...I miss you so much, yeah...I love you too sis, okay...ill see you later,bye

She hangs up, the elf stands there looking at her-- who were you talking to?

Jer stands up walking towards the bathroom-- my sister, shes owns this whole hotel, I asked her for some food, why?

--its just...that I have a sister too--he said--you said you miss her?

-- yeah I do,since I left home ive havent been able to see them, but anyway were you listening?!

He shrugged and Walked away.

Through gritted teeth she said--Asshole...

After informing the B.R.P.D she was alright she took a hot shower and Ate.

However she picked up a Plate Serving some food for the Prince who had locked himself in one of the rooms

She put the Plate and a drink at the entrance of his bedroom and knocked the door.

Nobody answered.

The elf sat there in silence--hey uh nuada? Heres your food--he doesnt answer-- look we are in truce and I shouldnt push it, but you have to eat, tomorrow we'll leave to the B.R.P.D or fight eachother whatever you want, ill sleep by the couch though if you need anything

He heard her walk away.

And after eating he sat there, trying to figure out these feelings in his chest.

Why did he save her?

Why did he tell her about his sister?

Why did he even cared for her.

Maybe because of the truce, yeah thats It, mutual help and all of that.

Or was it?

He sat there on the bed deep in thought for a good hour.

He let out a soft "oh" as he realized.

He had Fallen for her...and hard in less than a day.

He opened the door of his room and Walked towards the couch.

He chuckled picking her up--lets get you somewhere comfortable...shall we?--as he Walked back to his room he looked at her, so peacefully asleep--after all,the future elven queen should be spoiled

He thanked god she was still asleep because hed never say those things aloud.

He left her on the bed laying with his back against hers.

Nuada sighed with a smile-- good night,my queen

[alicedoessurveys]

Food Tag

1. What’s the last thing you ate? we had a bbq, I had a jacket potato with cheese and some tikka skewers

2. What’s your favourite cheese? mozzarella or red Leicester 

3. What’s your favourite fish? the only fish I eat is tuna and I wouldn't even call that my favourite 

4. What’s your favourite fruit? apple or banana, literally the only fruit I eat 

5. When, if ever, did you start liking olives? never

6. When, if ever, did you start liking beer? don't like beer, cant even stand the smell of it 

7. When, if ever, did you start liking shellfish? never

8. What was the best thing your mum/dad/guardian used to make? my mom does amazing dirty fries. she cooks them perfectly and adds turkey mince cooking in tomatoes and cheese and omg their just kdjjdsgfdskuhf

9. What’s the native specialty of your hometown? curries- apparently Birmingham is famous for its curries

10. What’s your comfort food? anything hot and covered in cheese, or chocolate 

11. What’s your favourite type of chocolate? ALL the chocolate

12. How do you like your steak? I don't eat red meat 

13. How do you like your burger? with cheese and either ketchup for veggie burger or bbq sauce for chicken burgers

14. How do you like your eggs? I dont eat eggs

15. How do you like your potatoes? baked with lots of butter 

16. How do you take your coffee? don't like coffee

17. How do you take your tea? don't like tea

18. What’s your favourite mug? my “don't let the muggles get you down” mug

19. What’s your biscuit or cookie of choice? oreos

20. What’s your ideal breakfast? cereal

21. What’s your ideal sandwich? cheese -  im seeing a theme with my answers here...

22. What’s your ideal pizza: alllll the cheese, a bit of chicken and some bbq sauce 

23. What’s your ideal pie (sweet or savoury)? chicken and gravy

24. What’s your ideal salad? no thanks

25. What food do you always like to have in the fridge? cheese, milk, some sort of yoghurt dessert

26. What food do you always like to have in the freezer? a supply of veggie food, some ready meals for lazy times, ice cream

27. What food do you always like to have in the cupboard? pasta, cereal, soup, beans 

28. What spices can you not live without? basil, thyme, turmeric, paprika, garlic, salt, pepper

29. What sauces can you not live without? tomato, bbq, curry sauce

30. Where do you buy most of your food? supermarket

31. How often do you go food shopping? not often because I live at home its mostly done by parents, but I like to go get my own stuff every other week. obviously with covid lockdown ive not been at all in months 

33. What’s the most expensive piece of kitchen equipment you own? again, I live with my parents so I don't actually own anything

34. What’s the last piece of equipment you bought for your kitchen? n/a

35. What piece of kitchen equipment could you not live without? microwave, toastie maker

36. How many times a week/month do you cook from raw ingredients? I dont cook meat 

37. What’s the last thing you cooked from raw ingredients? again,  I don't cook with meat 

38. What meats have you eaten besides cow, pig and poultry? the only meat I eat it chicken or turkey 

39. What’s the last time you ate something that had fallen on the floor? I don't 

40. What’s the last time you ate something you’d picked in the wild? I don't 

41. Arrange the following in order of preference: Italian, Mexican, Chinese, Indian, Thai, Sushi – italian, Chinese, Indian, I don't eat the others 

42. Arrange the following in order of preference: Vodka, Whiskey, Brandy, Rum – rum, thats the only one I drink

43. Arrange the following in order of preference: Garlic, Basil, Lime, Mint, Ginger, Aniseed – basil, garlic, I don't use the others 

44. Arrange the following in order of preference: Pineapple, Orange, Apple, Strawberry, Cherry, Watermelon, Banana. – apple, banana, I don't eat the others but flavour wise id go cherry, strawberry, pineapple, watermelon, orange 

45. Bread and spread: bread and butter, thats it. im simple.

46. What’s your fast food restaurant of choice, and what do you usually order? Chinese - chicken in black bean sauce and spicy chips

47. Pick a city. What are the best dining experiences you’ve had in that city? London- shake shack do the best cheese fries omg 

48. What’s your choice of tipple at the end of a long day? I don't really have a tipple 

49. What’s the next thing you’ll eat? cereal in the morning 

50. Are you hungry now? no

51. Do you eat your breakfast everyday? when im at home yeah, but work days I tend to skip it because I don't have time 

52. At what time do you have breakfast? around 9/9.30am

53. At what time do you have lunch? between 12-2pm

54. What do you have for lunch? whatever I feel like/whatever I can find 

55. At what time do you have dinner? between 6-8pm

56. What do you have for dinner? whatever my mom cooks

57. Do you light candles during dinner? nope

58. How many chairs are there in your dining room and who sits in the main chair? 4, there isn't a main chair

59. Do you eat and drink using your right hand or the left one? right

61. Mention the veggies that you like most: peas, thats it 

62. What fruit and vegetable do you like the least? all of them 

63. You like your fruit salad to have more: don't eat it

64. You prefer your vegetable salad to contain more: don't eat it 

65. What’s your favourite sandwich spread? cheese, surprise surprise 

66. What’s your favourite chocolate bar? Cadbury dairy milk or galaxy

67. What’s your favourite dessert? brownies

68. What’s your favourite drink? pepsi, or summer fruits squash

69. What’s your favourite snack? don't really have snacks 

70. What’s your favourite bubble gum flavour? don't like it

71. What’s your favourite ice cream flavour? caramel or chocolate 

72. What’s your favourite potato chip flavour? don't like them

73. What’s your favourite soup? tomato

74. What’s your favourite pizza? cheese and tomato 

75. What’s your favourite type of dish? italian? I don't think I understand the question 

76. What food do you hate? fish, rice, veg, 

77. What’s your favourite restaurant? a little local one called ‘Little Italy’ where I go every year on my birthday 

78. Do you eat homemade food, or food delivered from outside? homemade mostly, but we have a lot of takeaway too

80. Who cooks at home? mom mostly, but me and dad do occasionally too

81. What kind of diet (e.g. low-fat, high-fiber, high-carbohydrate, balanced diet etc.) do you have? I think its called the ridiculously unhealthy diet 

82. How do you keep yourself fit? go for a lot of walks, and my job is really active 

[kpopfromtheblock]

a/n ⇾ to be honest with you all, this isn’t my best work but i’m posting it anyways because it took me forever to write and i know there are a few readers who were waiting for this installment… although it’s not my favorite, i hope you still enjoy it! friendly reminder: if you click the title, it will take you to the series masterlist <3 thanks for reading! 

LIFE WITH BANGTAN | ot7

004

genre ⇾ comedy (bts crack? i guess) + fluff

pairing ⇾ bts x fem reader

summary ⇾ you’re not great at cooking but you’re not the worst either and one night you have the brilliant idea to cook for the boys… unfortunately for you, some of them are not impressed by your cooking skills.

warning ⇾ the usual: swearing, a lil’ dash of cringy-ness, idfk… it’s shit show.

words ⇾ 4,9k 

. * 　　　 ✦     .     　⁺ 　 .  * ⁺        ⁺

“Fuck!” You mumble to yourself as one of four pots on the stove begin to boil over in front of you. You rush to turn the heat down in order to stop the water from spilling out and onto the floor. 

You’ve already made a mess of the kitchen… Run-away vegetables scattered across the counters, sauces splattered on the tiled floor and kitchen mats… 

Jin is going to kill you when he sees the state of his kitchen but you don’t really have time to worry about it. You have very crucial task at hand: Cook dinner for seven very hungry men. 

You lift your arm up and use the sleeve of the oversized hoodie you’re wearing, that previously belonged to Jimin, to wipe the sweat off your forehead.

‘Do people normally sweat this much when they cook?’ You sigh heavily before picking up the large knife, which you’re sure is not meant for chopping veggies, off the counter. 

You begin cutting up the remainder of carrots you have laying on a wooden cutting board. 

When you’re done, you stand there for a few minutes and stare at the orange vegetable in disbelief... “This doesn’t look right.” You say out loud as you drop the knife and grab your iPad that was propped up against a container of sugar. 

You are trying to follow a recipe that your Mother so kindly sent to you via email. She was so thorough that she even included pictures of what the food was supposed to look like before, during and after. 

Though you were a bit thrown off by the length of the email, you weren’t in the least bit surprised… You expected nothing less from your Mom, as she is the head chef and partial owner (alongside your Father) of a well-known restaurant back in your hometown…  Her line of work kind of requires her to be thorough. 

The carrots in the picture your mom emailed you, look nothing like the carrots you just finished cutting.

Your carrots are cut into weird shapes. Some too big, others too small. Some are not peeled correctly, others are peeled so thinly that you could almost see-through them, where as your Mother’s carrots were cut to perfection. 

All the same circular shape and about the same thickness.

‘How did I manage to fuck up cutting carrots?’ You think. You were embarrassed with yourself.

If only Jin were in here to see you now. He’d probably laugh loudly in your face then try to repair the damage you’ve made but luckily for you, you were successful in forcing Jin and the rest of the guys into the confinement’s of Taehyung’s room.

Tae’s room was the largest in the dorm and could fit all seven members comfortably. 

It was also the furthest away from the kitchen which meant that you were able to work in peace without any of them prying over your shoulder or so you thought. 

Jin came in twice and Yoongi, once to check on you and see if you needed help… You rejected them both, determined to finish cooking all your own. 

A whole hour has passed now and you are regretting your decision to turn their help away but you have too much pride to ask for help now especially since you were the one who offered to cook in the first place…

You remember it like it was yesterday: 

After a long day of work and practice, the eight of you piled into a van to head back to the dorm for the night. You spent the day playing BTS’ personal assistant as their usual assistant (who just so happen to be your older cousin) had called out because of a family emergency. 

You were no stranger to being a P.A. for the boys as you were the one who took over when your cousin had gone on Maternity leave… Working for Big Hit was obviously how you met the idols (but thats a story for another time). 

Although Big Hit Ent has a shit ton of staff members that could have filled in, your cousin had request that you be her back up if anything happened to where she couldn’t make it into work. 

Big Hit had agreed to your cousin’s request, not only because she is a well respected senior member of BTS’ staff but also because you were exceptional at the job. 

You handled the boys’ schedules and tasks with such care and attention to detailed that the company offered to hire you full time but when things started to get serious between yourself and the guys, you turned down the position, wanting to be with them more than wanting to make money from the company. Plus being a P.A. wasn’t what you wanted to do for the rest of your life… No matter how well it paid… It wasn’t your passion.

It was a rare occasion that you got a call from Big Hit to come into the office for the day but when you did, you jump at the opportunity because it was a way for you to spend more time with your boyfriends and it was a nice little break from working in the small, very noisy and sometimes smelly Vet’s office you usually worked in… 

“Okay kids. Buckle up.” You say enthusiastically as up slip into the drivers seat and shut the door after you. 

You felt bad that either Jin, Hoseok or Jungkook would’ve had to drive home after having a full day of practice… You saw how hard they worked and you knew that without a doubt, their bodies were sore and worn out from the day so you offered to push the whip back to their dorm in order to give them some time to rest. 

Of course Jin was the only one to argue with you for five whole minutes about driving. He insisted that he wasn’t tired and maybe that was true but still… You didn’t want to hear it. 

You dismissed him and stole the van keys right out of his hand. He knew he had lost the argument once the keys were in your possession. 

Yoongi sat in the passengers side, while the others piled into the back. You finished strapping on your seat belt then went ahead to put the key in the ignition so you could start the van. 

The ride home was relaxing. 

Namjoon had fallen asleep fairly early on during the ride. He was sat beside Jin who scrolling through his phone in the very back seat. 

Hoseok was sat in the middle seat, closest to the window. His head thrown back and his lips slightly parted as his chest rose and fell softly. He was out like a light, much like Namjoon was. Jimin and Taehyung were beside him, Jimin in the middle. The two younger boys conversed amongst themselves and Yoongi was sat beside you, curled into himself against the window, snoring quietly. 

You were keeping your eyes focused on the road while the sounds of the men’ around you, kept you relaxed.

“I’m hungry.” Taehyung suddenly mentions. “Me too.” Jimin chimed in. “Do you guys want me to stop somewhere?” You asked, looking back at them through the rearview mirror. “Or Jin could make us something when we get back home?” Tae suggested, looking back at the older male with hopeful eyes. 

They really enjoy Jin’s cooking. He doesn’t cook that often for them anymore since they’ve been so busy and he hasn’t had time to cook a full meal.

Long practices and busy schedules usually mean they have to either eat out or order in… 

The boys long for a home cooked meal. 

You take a minute to glance at Jin’s face through the mirror again… You can see how tired his eyes are and you suddenly felt a bit of guilt pushing against your chest. You know he’s exhausted and to have to go home and cook a meal for the eight of you, at this time of night? It’s a bit much. 

“I can cook...” You offered. The words left your mouth before you really had time to process them in your head... 

Jin, Jimin and Tae all snap their heads over to you. 

When you don't hear any responses from them, you took a quick look up. You don't miss the way their faces twist in a mixture of amusement and confusion, before placing your eyes back on the road. “What?” You asked, genuinely puzzled by their facial expressions. 

“You’ll cook?” Tae asked, just to make sure he heard you correctly. “Yeah…” Your voice is quiet and laced with uncertainty but it was too late for you to take back your words back. “Dinner? You’ll cook dinner?” It was Jimin’s voice you heard this time. “Yes.” You said sternly. “For us?” Jin questioned you again in disbelief. “Oh my god! Yes!” You semi-shout. 

You felt a bit annoyed with them for asking you the same questions. You were just offering to cook dinner for them, not build them a boat… Why are they so pressed about it?

You look over at Yoongi to make sure you hadn’t woken him as he was the closest to you and when you saw that he hadn’t moved from his position, you continued. 

“I’ll cook dinner. For you all. Tonight. Why are you guys being so weird about it?”

“Because you never offer to cook.” Tae reminded you. 

“Thats not true! I always offer, Jin always says no.” 

“That’s because you’re not good at cooking Princess.” Jin is blunt and it kind of throws you off guard but then you realize he does have a bit of a point. You’re not the best at cooking but you have the basics down and you can make a mean pot of ramen… That counts right?

“I know how to cook.” You tried defend yourself but even you know the words sound bland leaving your lips. “Baby, putting rice in the cooker and turning it on is not cooking.” Jimin told you in a matter of fact tone. A little gasps leaves your lips at his insult. 

‘How dare he!’ You think to yourself. 

You rolled your eyes when you heard Taehyung chuckling next to Jimin.

“Mr. Jimin…” You said warningly. “Don’t you start with me. You barely know how to boil water…” You clapped back at him. Taehyung is throwing his head back whilst holding his stomach. He is laughing so hard, his shoulders are visibly shaking. He loves with you and Jimin bicker with each other. It’s the funniest thing in the world to him. 

“Out of the two of us, I am the better cook.” You said confidently. 

“My bullshit senses are tingling.” Jimin joked and you scoffed at him. 

“How about tomorrow tonight?” Jin suddenly suggests, causing both you and Jimin to cease your petty arguing.“Why not tonight? I really don’t mind.” You told them, shrugging your shoulders nonchalantly.

 Now you were determined to prove a point to Jimin. You were the better cook. You have to be… Your mom is a chef for crying out loud, knowing how to cook should be in your DNA

“Well, we’ll have to stop at a grocery store, right? To get ingredients and it’s a bit late to start cooking now so how about we go home and order something then tomorrow you can cook for us? Sound good?” Jin asked you and you nod your head in agreement. “Tomorrow it is.” You said. 

You were sure you’d be able to cook a perfectly good meal for your boyfriends. Cooking isn’t hard. You were knowledgeable about the basics and you’ve seen Jin cook plenty of times too. 

’It’ll be fine.’ You think to yourself, boy were you wrong…

. * 　　　 ✦     .     　⁺ 　 .  * ⁺        ⁺

The rice cooker beeps loudly behind you. You turn away from the stove and walk over to the counter to shut the cooker off. You open the lid then take up the paddle spoon. You scoop up some of the rice and pop it in your mouth. It’s steaming hot and it almost burns your tongue but you chew with caution then swallow. You smile happily at the taste. “If all else fails, at least there’s rice.” You giggle to yourself as you think about how you should get those words printed on a t-shirt or something.. And you know Yoongi, Jin and Taehyung would agree with you because the four of you have been dubbed (by the rest of the boys), the official rice fairies since you all eat it some much.

“It smells good…” You’re startled by the sound of Jungkook’s voice. You whip your body around to see him lifting one of the pot covers. 

Were you so impressed by your rice cooking skills that you didn’t notice him slide into the kitchen behind you. “Jungkook!” You slap his hand and he drops the pot lid, it falls perfectly back into place. “Get your ass out of here!” You say sternly. You put your hand on his shoulder and begin to push him away from the stove. 

You’re strong but not as strong as him and your small hand is no match for his large shoulder. When you push him, he barely moves an inch. 

“But I’m hungry~” Jungkook whines and you can’t fight the smile that forms on your lips at the cute way he drags his words. 

“And Namjoon won’t let me eat any of my snacks… He says it’ll ruin my dinner.” Jungkook complains as he turns he’s body around to face you. His tall frame towers over your shorter one. 

“Joon is right and I’m almost done Kookie.” You try to reassure him but the look on his face tells you that it isn’t working. 

“How much longer?” He asks as he turns his body to finally face you.

“Twenty minutes.” You say, looking up at him adoringly.

“But you said twenty minutes, when Jin came in to check on you an hour ago.” He protests and you chuckle. “Kookie…” You call sweetly as you step closer to him. You wrap your arms around his waist and press your face to his chest. Maybe a little affection and sweet talk will do the trick… “I promise I’m almost done. If I’m not finished in twenty minutes, you have permission to eat all your snacks. Okay?” You look up at him to find that he is already staring down at you. When your eyes meet his, he quickly looks away in that cute way he does when he knows he’s been caught staring. You giggle and you can see a smirk forming on his lips as he tries to avoid eye contact. He wants to be upset with you because of how long you’re taking with dinner but he can’t…

“Do we have a deal?” You ask him, keeping your eyes on his sharp jawline. 

When Jungkook realizes that you aren’t going to stop staring his glorious side profile, he looks down at you. “Fine. But please move faster. We’re all starving and I think Yoongi s going to bit off Jin’s head soon because he keeps talking.” Jungkook informs you and you nod. “Okay, okay. I’m going as fast as I can.” You tell him. You stand on your toes to peak his lips. “Now go.” You say whilst patting his butt a few times as a way to usher him out of the kitchen so you can get back to work.

Two hours pass and you’re finally done cooking. You can’t believe it’s taken you two whole hours to cook fiour dishes that you started all at the same time. It has never taken Jin this long to cook anything and that’s a dead giveaway that you’ve screwed something up… 

After you finish setting the table, you call for the boys. They youngest members come tumbling into the dinning room with the older ones following closely behind. “Wow~” Jimin and Jungkook say in unison as they see the meals you’ve prepared for them… It looks and smells amazing but the taste is the most important thing and you aren’t sure you’ve done such a good job in that department… You’re almost positive you haven’t.

“Look! There’s rice!” Taehyung points excitedly at the huge bowl full of steaming hot white rice. “The seaweed soup looks so delicious.” Hoseok comments and you smile at his words. “Does it?” You ask eagerly. Hobi nods at you then walks over to kiss the top of your head, lovingly. “I’m sure it’ll taste great.” he assures you. “Wow, look at the pork belly.” Namjoon has hearts in his eyes as he sees the mountain of juicy pork belly sitting on a plate. 

You are starting to feel a little bit more confident about your cooking since the reaction from your boys so far has been good but you have to keep in mind that they haven’t actually tasted anything yet.

You look over at Yoongi when you hear him chuckling from where he stands. Even though you have no idea what he’s laughing about, you smile at him. “Whats so funny?” You question. “We’re acting like we’ve never seen these kinds of foods before.” Yoongi explains and it causes the rest of the boys to laugh too. “It’s because we’re starving…” Namjoon says and you immediately feel guilty for taking so long to cook them a proper meal. 

You know they must be starving. “Well, the wait is over. Eat!” You encourage them as you take the empty seat in between Jungkook and Hoseok. 

The boys begin to fill their plates. You’re too nervous to eat, so you just sit there and watch, like a creep. “You’re not eating Angel?” Hoseok asks you as he scoops some rice into his plate. “You guys eat first.” You use your hands to urge him into adding more food to his plate. 

Jungkook uses his chopsticks to grab a piece of pork then he pops it into his mouth. You smile as he hums contently while he chews. “How is it?” You ask him, expectingly. He’s silent for a little bit while he chews but after he swallows, he smiles and gives you two thumbs up. “Really?! Two thumbs?” You exclaim and Jungkook nods his head. He begins filling his plate with more meat. “Wow, not one but two thumbs up.” You say in amazement. Receiving two thumbs up from Jungkook is big accomplishment for you. 

“Cooking pork belly is easy though.” Jimin says sourly in an attempt to tease you. You cut your eyes at him before sitting up straight in your seat, ready to give him a piece of your mind. “Listen here…” You start. “Don’t try to discredit me! Let me have this victory, okay!” You say sternly and he holds his hands up in defense, giving you a small smirk.

Park Jimin just loves to rile you up.

Hoseok goes for a piece of pork this time. He takes a few minutes to chew before his eyes widen like saucers. Your stomach drops, thinking he’s in shock because of how bad it taste but you’re wrong… “Delicious.” He tells you and now your the one with the widening eyes. “Seriously!?” You ask in disbelief and he nods. “Holy shit.” You mumble under your breath, as you sit back in your seat. You are stunned. 

Two out of seven have given you praises on your food. You can’t believe it… You thought for sure, they would’ve banned you from the kitchen after tasting one bite.

You feel proud that you managed to cook something that the boys seem to be enjoying. You were sitting high on your horse at this point but little did you know… You were about to get kicked right off… 

Whilst you are conversing with Hoseok and Namjoon, Jimin is scooping a hefty amount of seaweed soup into a bowl you provided for him. He is excited to eat it as he hasn’t had seaweed soup in a while. He was looking forward to it. 

He dips his spoon into the hot liquid then puts it up to his mouth to cool it quickly before shoving the spoon in. The soup hits his tongue and he immediately cringes at the taste. He shakes his head whilst sticking his tongue out, trying to rid his taste buds of the bitterness. 

Jimin is so distraught by the bad soup that he doesn’t notice the way Taehyung is staring at him with a concerned expression, having seen the way he reacted to your soup. 

When Jimin finally gets over the taste, he turns his head to face Tae. He has warn the younger boy about the soup… 

“What?” Tae mouths to Jimin, not wanting to bring attention to the two of them. “It’s bad.” Jimin mouths back immediately. 

If anyone were looking at them from the outside, they would think the two were communicating telepathically. 

“What’s bad?” Tae ask, his eyebrows crinkling in confusion.  

“The soup.” Jimin points at the bowl with his spoon. “The soup is bad?” Tae mouths again, slightly shocked by the news he’s hearing.

In response, Jimin just takes his spoon and dips it into his bowl, gathering the broth. He then brings the spoon up to Tae’s mouth. Tae leans forward to taste the liquid… He lets the soup swish around in his mouth before swallowing… He frowns when he realizes that the soup, is indeed very bad. “Aw..” He says sadly, feeling extremely disappointed. He too was excited about getting to eat some seaweed soup but after tasting it, he doesn’t feel the same. 

Jimin releases a chuckle at Tae’s reaction then covers his mouth quickly, hoping no one heard him. “Give some to Yoongi.” Jimin encourages Tae, wanting to see the older males reaction to the taste of your soup. 

You’re conversation with Joon and Hobi comfortably subsides when you see Jin, who is sitting at the end of the table, takes a spoon full of the seaweed soup you’ve slaved over. He pushes the spoon into his mouth and lets the warm liquid wash over his taste buds… You’re staring intently at him, after all, his reaction will be the most precious for you as he’s the cook in the house… You don’t miss the way his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows slowly, his nose scrunches up and then he clears his throat. 

This isn’t the reaction you were expecting… 

You can hear Jimin who is sitting across from you, quietly dying of laughter and Tae who is beside him, trying to stifle his own laughter… 

“Well?” You ask. He still hasn’t commented on the food but if his facial expression is anything to go by, you’re sure he’s disgusted by the taste. 

“It’s awful, isn’t it?” You want Jin to confirm what you already know is true which is that soup taste horrible and you’re the worst cook ever. Your previous confidents has gone all the way out the window now. “It’s.. Uh—” Jin starts but stops as he racks his brain for the right words to say. He doesn’t want to hurt your feelings but he can’t deny that the soup taste a bit odd. 

“It’s disgusting... You can say it.” You tell him as you pout, disappointed in yourself…

“No Princess… It’s just—” Jin begins again but is soon cut off by Yoongi’s voice. “It’s the worst seaweed soup Ive ever tasted…” He say bluntly and Jimin burst out into laughter. “It’s so bitter. There’s no flavor… It’s like you just boiled water for two hours then added the seaweed in last minute.” Yoongi’s savage confession causes you to freeze in your seat. 

You sit there dumbfounded, your mouth slightly agape… 

‘Is he really going to embarrass me like this in front of the rest of the guys?’ You internally ask yourself

Of course he is. 

“I mean did you even add sesame oil and where’s the beef?” He continues. “C’mon Kitten. This isn’t it…” He says, almost as if he’s disappointed in you. 

Jimin is laughing so hard that theres no sound coming out of his mouth. He is clutching his stomach in attempt to stop the cramping. Tae is trying to avoid eye contact in order to keep it together. He doesn’t want to laugh in your face like Jimin is doing but it’s hard not to when you are sitting there looking like a deer caught in head lights… 

“Is it really bad?” Jungkook is curious. He picks up his spoon and scoops it into the pot of soup. When he feels he has enough on his spoon, he brings it to his mouth to taste. 

He doesn’t react the way the other do. Instead, he slowly places the utensil down and turns to look at you. “Yeah~” He drags out his word. “I’m sorry baby but, it’s pretty bad.” He admits as he brings his hand up to pat your shoulder, feeling sorry for you. 

Namjoon and Hoseok are the only ones holding it together but, you’re sure they won’t last much longer.

Your face is warmer than usual… You are embarrassed beyond belief and it doesn’t stop there. 

“I mean… I wasn’t going to say anything but…” Namjoon speaks up and you snap your head over to his direction. 

‘Not him too.’ You think. 

“The rice cakes aren’t good either.” He adds. “You’ve got to be kidding me?” You’re flabbergasted. You knew that it wasn’t going to taste phenomenal but you didn’t think they would insult your cooking this badly. “Taste it.” Yoongi demands. He needs you to taste it so you can see that it’s the truth they’re telling you. Your soup sucks. 

Yoongi scoops up some of the broth and leans across the table. He holds the spoon to your lips and you open your mouth for him to feed you. 

The minute the liquid touches your tongue, you wince… Not only because it’s still hot but because it actually does taste horrible. “Oh my god.” You groan, wanting to take back the decision you’ve made to cook in the first place. “It’s so bitter.” You gag, sticking your tongue out dramatically, much like Jimin had done earlier. “So. Fucking. Bitter.” Yoongi nods his head. The room falls silent, expect for the quiet chuckling you hear every few seconds from across the table.

“This is so embarrassing.” You say more to yourself than to the men around you as you look down at your empty plate.

When you look up, all seven men have their eyes on you. The smirks on their faces are priceless… They are trying so hard not to hurt your feelings by laughing. 

“It’s okay… You can laugh.” You give them permission and they don’t even spare you for another second as they all burst into laughter. Jimin is now laughing so hard that he can’t see because his eyes are blurred with tears. 

“I can’t believe you spent two hours cooking just for it to taste this bad.” Jin says through chuckles… You don’t fight the smile that is starting to form on your face… As disappointed as you are, you can’t help but find it funny that you’ve failed so terribly. 

Plus, it’s hard not to laugh when the boys are laughing so hysterically at you. Their laughs are infectious.

“Hey!” You shout over their loud mouths. “At least we have pork belly and rice.” You remind them. “That came out okay.” You utter quietly, the embarrassment creeping it’s way back into your system.

“Yeah!” Namjoon chimes in. “Cut Baby girl some slack! She tried.” He defends you and you smile gratefully at him. “Thank you Joonie.” You say sweetly and he winks at you. 

“Okay, okay.” Jin says, trying to calm everyone else down. 

“This wasn’t a complete fail and we appreciate your efforts Princess.” He commends you. “Thank you Jinnie.” You say contently. 

“Of course Princess.” 

“So… What are we going to do with all this soup and spicy rice cakes? Because I won’t be eating it.” You ball up your napkin and throw it at Jimin’s head after he speaks.

“Shut up.” You groan and he laughs teasingly. “Leave her alone.” Tae speaks, although he is still chuckling. 

“I’m sorry okay but why did you offer to cook when you know you can’t?” Jimin raises questioning brow at you.

“I was just trying to do something nice…” You admit.

“And we appreciate it Angel.” Hoseok is sincere with his word. He grabs your hand under the table and gives it a little squeeze. The gesture makes you feel a little bit better. 

You sigh and sit up straight in your seat, finally deciding to accept your defeat. 

“Maybe I should just stick to rice and ramen…” You say out loud. “I like that idea!” The boys clap simultaneously. “Rice and ramen is a good.”  Jimin pips up and you giggle. “And pork belly too.” Jungkook adds. “The pork belly really is delicious.” He pops another piece into his mouth. 

‘Glad I did something right.’ 

You gaze at the food on the table. You’ve only made four dishes but you’ve made a lot… Literally so much. You start to feel sick looking at it.

“Seriously… What to do with this big ass pot of soup?” You ask.  

“Don’t you have someone at school you hate? A professor or something… Give it to them.” You burst into laughter at Jungkook’s suggestion. 

“Thats not nice Kookie… Why would I purposefully bring someone food that taste bad?” 

“But you can poison us just fine with this so called seaweed soup? You heartless woman.” Jimin jokes. You leap up out your seat and dash yourself around the table to attack him but he gets up before you can get to him. He runs towards his bedroom. “I’m going to kill you when I catch Park Jimin.” You yell as begin chasing him around the house. 

You are too preoccupied with trying to beat up Jimin, that you don’t notice when Jin picks up your disaster of a soup and brings back over to the stove. 

While he tries his best to save the meal you’d destroyed,  he thinks of maybe getting you some at-home cooking lesson for your birthday…

[i-writing-is-hard-i]

Blood Traitor pt 17

Summary:  You are Draco’s older sister.  A pureblood Witch, without the prejudice and anti-muggle beliefs of your family. Who just so happened to fall in love with none other than a blood traitor, just to complicate matters more Voldemort has returned.  What will you do?

okay, I suck at writing descriptions,

[Disclaimer] Mentions of sex, violence, and hints of torture, I may have screwed up the timeline somewhere along the way, and no one dies, because, thats sad

[Begining]  - [Previous] - [Next]

Part: 17

It had been a week since the wedding, you were back in Grimmauld place, with your every two-day visit from George.  Ron, Hermione, and Harry hadn’t been heard from since the wedding.  Everyone was beside themselves with worry, but they mustered on with their duties.

George had called round early today.  You were completely unaware of sitting in your room reading.  When the door suddenly flung open, scaring the living daylights out of you, causing you to drop your book.

“I’m not that scary am I?” he jested.

“You’re early” you were beaming, happy to see him.  

“Yea, Fred let me go early didn’t need me, he said” George was lying, you could see it in his eyes.

“Everything okay?” you knew it wasn’t bad.

“Well, I uh,  I missed you,  apparently I was getting on everyone’s nerves” he stumbled

“Aw, that’s so sweet” you teased.  George glared at you, diving on to the bed beside you.

“We should go somewhere” he suggested,

“What did you have in mind?” you would have loved to get out of the house, but it wasn’t safe to wander around, especially Diagonally,  there had been a few attacks against shop owners, now there weren’t many places left, George and Fred had managed to avoid this so far, but you were all worried about it.

“A walk somewhere nice? there is a nice spot near the burrow” he replied.

You nodded in agreement, operating there for speed.

The two of you wandered around for a while, talking and joking, it felt like a normal date, like nothing bad was happening in the world, muggles blissfully unaware wondered past giving a nod and a polite hello, which you returned.  When the sky started turning reds and yellows, George pulled you to a bank, looking over a field,  it was a lovely sight.  You sat down getting comfortable in the grass.  Out of the corner of your eye, you could see George fidgeting with his hands.  He opened his mouth to speak a few times then changed his mind.

“Love you okay?” you finally asked, with an amused expression.

“Yeah, I” he stopped taking in a deep breath, pulling out a little black box, inside was a beautiful ring “It's not an engagement ring, not yet anyway, it’s a promise ring” he handed it to you.

“A promise” you whispered, looking at it with awe. “A promise that I will be yours for the end of days, no matter how long that is” George continued.  You heart hit your chest, what he said, it was as if he was thinking, one you weren’t going to make it through this.  

“We will make it through this, you just watch” you stated

“Of course we will” George replied smiling again.  You slid the ring on, it fit perfectly.  George chuckled but went serious again.

“There is something else, I want to ask you actually” he spoke up.

“Oh?”

“Move in with me, I know it was better to stay where you are, but I want to wake up to you every morning” he was practically begging.  You wanted that too, so bad, in reality, you were no safer at Grimmauld than you would be at his.  You went to speak but George interrupted you.

“Fred’s okay with it, he’s actually really okay with it”

You went to speak again, but once again George interrupted you  

“It would mean leaving Sirius alone, but now he can go out, it wouldn’t be that bad”  

For the third time, you opened your mouth to speak,

“I suppose we should ask first” at least he had a point this time.

“Well, Georgie, I would love to move in with you, of course, but yeah we should probably ask first”

Once the sun had gone down, George and you headed back to Grimmauld Place.  Sirius was sitting the kitchen, the two of you explained your plan with him, he didn’t see a problem with it,  after all, it wasn’t like you were going to be wondering around Diagonally.    That night, when George headed back home, you packed up your stuff.  You asked Sirius again, if he was really okay with it, being on his own, his reply was that soon enough it would be safe for Harry to move in any way.  It was a plan he had since escaping Azkaban prison.  

The next after George had finished work, he came to pick you up.  Fred was sitting in the kitchen drinking tea when you arrived.  

“No accidentally getting into my bed” he joked when he saw you.

“Please, you don’t have to worry about that” you chuckled back

George showed you where to put your things, the apartment wasn’t that big but it suited and you didn’t have much stuff anyway.  George was talking about getting your own place together, Fred didn’t know it yet.  You didn’t unpack completely, wanting to cook dinner for them.  Fred and George watched as you danced around the kitchen, George, in particular, was enjoying the view.  Fred noticed, rolling his eyes then proceeding to tease him about it.  You hadn’t really heard him.  When you turned round George sitting with his head in his hands, while Fred was laughing.

“You are so whipped” he breathed.

The twins talked about work, while you all enjoyed dinner, they shared stories of odd customers that came in, and everything else that came to mind.  Afterwards, the twins did the dishes, giving you a chance to finish unpacking, when you came out, Fred had made you all tea.  

Later on that night, you went to bed first.  At first, it felt a bit strange, but it wasn’t like you two never shared a bed before.  It wasn’t bad, however.

George had sat up for another half hour after you had gotten tucked up into bed, he faffed around the room a bit, before getting in beside you, pulling you tightly.  

“Goodnight” you whispered.

“Don’t let the bed bugs bite, if they do, bite them back” Georg returned, you smile closing your eyes again.

The next morning George woke early to get ready for work.  You could tell he was trying to be careful, not to wake you up but you were already awake, you heard him go into Fred’s room, returning after what seems like forever.  Followed by him faffing around the room, trying to get ready in the dark.  You were trying not to laugh as you heard him make a bang, followed by a few profanities under his breath

“Need a hand” you chuckled.  You saw him freeze in the middle of pulling his trousers up, followed by him hitting the deck.  You jumped up to see if he alright.  He was sitting on the floor with a cheesy grin on his face.

“Tried not to wake you up” he mumbled, it made you chuckle again.  You held out his hand to help him up.  As you went to take a step back George crashed his lips to yours

“Good morning” he mumbled against them

“Morning” you smiled back, admiring his messy hair.  You pulled away to go and make breakfast.  The smell of bacon must have drawn their attention because they came running out with happy smiles on their faces.

“Yum, smells good” Fred called as he sat down at the table, that you had already set.  George sat down facing him, with a view of you.

When you had done, you placed the food down, sitting down yourself.  The boys scoffed the food quickly, Fred had offered to do the dishes, but they had to head off to work so you took care of that, and now you were alone.  It hadn’t occurred to you that you would be alone, after having Sirius as company, for most of the day.  At least it gave you plenty of time to read over books.  You were able to question Professor McGonagall about the requirements for becoming a professor yourself.  She had offered to send you some quizzes, passed exams and other things that would help in the future.  Since it wasn’t safe for you to attend school.

After giving the house a good clean, you settled down on the sofa, reading your latest book.  At this rate, you would be able to go straight into doing the test.  At lunch, you quickly made something for yourself.  Then got back to work.  You had an hour before you would need to start making dinner if you wanted it ready for when the boys got home.

Sure enough, you had just set the food down, when the boys swung open the door.

“Honey, we’re home” you knew it was Fred calling out, by the wink George sent you from behind.  When Fred saw the food on the table he dove over taking a seat.

“Sweet, dinners ready” he cheered.

George walked over to you, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Yuk, really we are about to eat” Fred teased.  George suddenly wore a smirk, then kissed you again this time on the lips, before sitting down himself. You joined them, asking about their day.  With everyone at school, it was much quieter in store, but they were still receiving plenty of orders by owl.  After dinner, it was time to put the radio on, every evening there would be a list of names read out of the most recently deceased.  The three of you settled on the sofa listening.  George had hold of your hand tightly.  You knew if it were any of the Weasley, that you would have heard directly, you were listening out for your own family.  Would you be upset if your father's name was called? your mother’s? You were terrified of hearing Draco’s of a friends name.  George squeezed your hand, reassuringly.  You all breathed a breath of fresh air when you didn’t recognise any names.

You headed to your room, while the boys brainstormed, out in the living room.  You had fallen asleep by the time George joined you, curling up to your side.

For the next few weeks leading up to Christmas, it was pretty much the same.  You would take care of the chores around the house, while the twins were at work.  You would always have dinner on the table ready for them, followed by listening to radio names.  Sometimes you would head out on missions, but the death eaters had covered their tracks a lot better now, leaving you stuck for information.  So instead you were mostly tasked with finding followers.  

During Christmas, you all spent it at Molly’s aunts home.  The few days there were solemn, no one had the Christmas spirit, but it was to be expected.  At one point you had caught Molly crying alone, naturally worried about her children, especially Ron.  You wished there was something you could do for them, maybe gathering information about them, but then, if you could find them, then who else would be able to find them?, it wasn’t worth the risk searching.

[prettywordsyouleft]

Becoming Human - Chapter 10

Previous Chapters:  1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9

After my shift finished, I took the quickest path to the subway, riding it home in a weird state of anticipation. Gunhee had messaged earlier on that he had taken Leo back to my apartment when his own shift ended, and for some reason, the desire to see if Sohyun’s words were right or wrong had left me in a state of unknown. It felt so unfamiliar to expect anything of someone passed Gunhee. I had grown up with him as a child and when I returned from England, we had fallen right back into our friendship where it had left off.

Relationships with other humans, however, had either been destroyed by my constant clinical thinking from my studies or just never pursued enough by myself. Sohyun was the only exception, and although we were complete opposites, I held her close within my world.

But that was it.

And now, after years of being the same way, I was strangely hopeful at the new interactions I was facing with Leo. I wondered if Sohyun and Doctor Jung were right, and because of my lack of physical connections with others, I was going to end up in a situation that would ultimately be undesirable. The cries within my mind that Leo was a robot were slowly quietening. They were still there though, and as I walked towards my apartment, I reminded myself over and over to stop expecting too much from him.

I’ll see you later.

My eyes looked forward then, a stupid smile crossing my lips at the idea that he could be actually waiting at home for me. Would he be waiting on the sofa? In the kitchen? Would he have made dinner? Would he even remember the words he had said that had worked me up so much today?

I entered the apartment complex finally and felt as if my heart would explode through my chest as I waited for the elevator to open on my floor, my door soon standing tall in front of me. I stood there for a few minutes, attempting to calm myself back down. Finally, I put in my passcode and then entered the apartment, shutting the door behind me and removing my boots before turning around.

And there he was. He wasn’t waiting on the sofa. The house didn’t have an aroma of a cooked meal, nor was he occupying the kitchen area. Instead, Leo stood on the landing of the small hallway, his eyes quietly soaking me in, relief that he could see me again after hours of being apart.

In that moment, our real and artificial worlds collided. I stepped up into the house and wrapped my arms around his waist, burying my head into his chest as the first tear fell. The tall man stood still for a moment and then his arms were soon around me, holding me close to his body. I couldn’t distinguish anything different within his embrace than others I had been in and smiled, my tears falling more readily.

“You waited for me,” I managed to splutter out after the tears stopped. “You actually waited.”

“Where else would I go?” he softly asked, his hand now up in my hair and patting the curls rhythmically. “You had to come home to me and I had to wait for you. Why are you crying?”

“People don’t wait for me.”

Leo shifted back, his eyes searching for more understanding. His thumbs came up and wiped away the tear lines stained upon my cheeks. He then sighed lightly. “Why wouldn’t they?”

“Today I laughed inwardly at a client we have for finding small issues in her Kboy bothersome and so she requested a face-up with a reason that to me sounded so silly. And then I realised, who was I to judge her for finding that annoying? Who am I to decide that her new choice was less suitable than she imagined it to be? As long as he made her happy and she was not in any harm, isn’t that the best situation?”

“I mean, I somewhat agree, but what does this have to do with people not waiting for you, noona?”

I lowered my head, fresh tears threatening to fall again. “I’m cruel. I act like I’m nice but really, I think of people and categorise them from my psychology studies. When I shouldn’t be diagnosing them with my self-decided theories but accepting them for how they are if I want people to accept me.”

“I accept you,” Leo said immediately, smiling lightly as he lifted my chin up so I could see him again. My chin wobbled in his hand and it made his smile grow. “And I think you’re kind. Your heart is in the right place, Choi Yerin. If it wasn’t, would you, the self-proclaimed never going to own a Kboy, have saved me otherwise? You saw something in me that others weren’t ready to. Maybe I’ll be the lucky one who gets to see things in you before others do. I think I got a glimpse of the more vulnerable you tonight.”

“Maybe I am blurring our lines too easily,” I whispered and Leo smiled again. It made me pout and he broke out into a small laugh. “Don’t laugh at me!”

“Don’t be insanely cute then.”

“I was being serious though.”

Leo nodded and gently guided me towards my bedroom door. I glanced at him with wide eyes and then at my door. Another laugh escaped him. “I don’t know what is processing through that mind of yours right now, but I can sense you have had a big day full of emotions. I read that humans are faced with constant emotions and an overload from them can be exhausting. You should get changed and I’ll prepare something for dinner, so you can rest for the remainder of the night.”

“No.”

He eyed me carefully and then shook his head. “I don’t understand, why did you just say no? What exactly for?”

“I will change and I am tired but I want to cook dinner together.”

“Together? But it would be easier for me to just prep-”

“Don’t you want to know more about humans and why they interact with each other?” Leo nodded. “Cooking together is another way to be close with the people you care about.”

“I understand that, but it’s only one person eating so it would be too burdensome to have two individuals making one meal.”

I smiled, taking off my jumper and opening the door to my room. “Just listen to your noona for once, okay?”

  Music played around the apartment as we both managed to fit into my small kitchen, Leo preparing the vegetables as I worked on seasoning some beef before popping it onto the stovetop. I watched as he cut the cucumber and carrot expertly, fast and precise. I wondered during all these years of my adulthood if I would have felt this alive if I had invited someone else into my life earlier. Or if this was just the effect of having Leo around. His different way of viewing our human world made me question just how well I had lived until now.

“Your eyes should be on the food, not me.” His voice startled me and I jumped, shifting backwards. Leo dropped the knife and reached out to steady me before I knocked into the frying pan on the stove and potentially caused trouble. However, being back in his arms seemed just as dangerous to me. Again, like the night where he saved me on our walk, he jumped away himself, quietly going back to the preparation of the food. I frowned; he hadn’t resisted my hug earlier on.

I had been obviously emotional then. Right now he simply was helping me from a potential accident and then continuing on with his task. I decided it would make sense if I were a robot to not find the close proximity anything to give a second thought to.

It was how we differed. Since hugging him and being vulnerable, it was all I could think of. I thought of how I wanted to cook together, remembering my Mother telling me that food made together tasted better. I had wanted to try it once. Instead, I was starting to over think the situation. The music now seemed to mock me, and as I turned to check the beef, I noticed it was burned on one side.

This wouldn’t taste good at all. Reality was returning to me. The window I had seen of something magical happening to me was fading fast. Because it was hopeless to think of Leo as anything but what he actually was.

The sooner I remembered that, the safer it would be for me.

Next chapter!

A/N: Oh Yerin, what are you doing! She was so giddy and enjoying everything until that last moment. I sense some angst coming out way >_>

Sorry this chapter was late to be posted today Xxx

Want to be added to the notified list? Leave a comment or reblog letting me know that you wish to get tagged in the upcoming chapters! Thanks everyone for the continued support!

@cramelot @chanyeolol @annoyingtiger888 @reddragon2 @this-song-thats-only-for-you @tanithrea @pastelsweaters-and-bubble-t @babybee05  @strwalight  @chakkyeonie​

Becoming Human Masterlist | Fiction Masterlist | Request Guidelines

[latenightdrabble-blog]

Surf and Sand

a/n: Kang Seulgi is a queen and here is just something I’ve been wanting to write for a while. It’s a bit indulgent, so bear with me. 

Also shout-out to @gummydoesstuff for this marvelous mood board, it’s simply stunning ! <3

We could never stay apart, for even the tide returns the shore, washing it anew and leaving behind presents of shells and animals - a declaration of love for the unchanging sand. We build castles in the air, but at the end of the day, you are the home I return to. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If someone told you three years ago that you were going to date Kang Seulgi, you would've laughed in their face.

She was your good friend, although you wanted it to be something more, you knew, she was way out of your league. The day she secretly revealed that she was going to join SM Entertainment as a trainee, your heart sank. You were headed to college soon, and you hoped that she would be at least one friend you would take into the new phase of your life. 

On the last day of high school, the two of your parted ways, fulling knowing that sustaining the friendship would be hard to do, between you moving to another city to study, and her busy training schedule.

Seulgi, however, didn't let you feel like much had changed. Every time something exciting happened to her, she would call you and in a rush of words, describe in great detail the events that had occurred. She met the idols she looked up to and respected, and shared her daily struggles. You admired her strength to endure it all, and in a way, she was a sort of inspiration for you to deal with your own difficulties of being away from your family and dealing with tests and assignments.

Irene, Wendy, Joy and Yeri soon became close to you as well, and would send you snaps of Seulgi being a cute dork. It made you miss her terribly, but you were grateful that she had such great friends to support her on her journey.

Post debut, and during comebacks, the calls and snaps would cease, as she was thrown into busy schedules. You watched her group rise the ranks with pride, although it hurt to be away from her. 

To put it simply - you were confused about your feelings.

 Is this what a friendship is like? 

.

.

Or were you too scared to admit to yourself that you did indeed love Kang Seulgi and you didn't know what to do with the feelings?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In your third year of college, you got a chance to intern at a company in Seoul over the holidays. 

You were over the moon in excitement! It was a chance to be reunited with Seulgi after three long years, and to finally meet her friends in person. 

A part of you was reluctant, hesitant even. Would your feelings be revealed? Would you tell her the truth you've now come to accept? Or would you continue to watch her grow and go on without you?

There were a lot of things that you worried about - what if she didn't like you the same way? What would her company do if they found out? What were the rules on dating idols? How would the two of you work around your schedules? To top it all, you were still unsure about what you were going to do after college   study further or work?

Your head began to ache with all the questions. You unlocked your phone to see a snap from Seulgi, of her holding a bear toy you had gifted her on her 18th birthday. The caption read - "I can't wait for you to come here!" Your smile grew so wide when you realised that she kept the stuffed bear even after all this time. 

It was time you told her the truth. As her best friend, you owed her that much.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When you arrived in Seoul, you obviously didn't expect Seulgi to be there to pick you up. Thats not what idols do, you had to remind yourself.  

You checked your phone two missed calls - one from Seulgi and one from your parents. 

A text notification revealed one from Seulgi - "Hey! I'm really sorry about not meeting you at the airport, something urgent came up. We might have our comeback sooner than expected so I won't be free the whole day today :( I promise I'll make it up to you when we meet. Take care <3"

Well you couldn't blame her for the decisions her company took. You quickly found your parents in the crowd and all other thoughts vanished as your were squished into a group hug.

Your mother took it upon herself to cook your favourite dishes as she thought you were underweight. It was quite the contrary, but you weren't going to say no to home food, after being away for so long.

Your dad on the other hand decided to be a total dad and slyly asked you if after all this time, you found someone you liked. You choked on the hot soup you were having, and it took a whole five minutes to say "Well there is someone..."

"I knew it!" shouted your father, as her turned his head in glee, wiggling his eyebrows at your mother.

"Honey, let her finish her sentence, then we'll settle the bet." you mother said.

"You guys bet on me? What the hell?" you asked, your voice coated with pretend anger.

"Yeah, you were away from us for three whole years, we assumed you'd finally get some one. So who is this lucky person?" you mother replied.

"Uh, its nobody. I just like someone and I don't know if they like me back." you said, your eyes trained on your bowl.

"Well then baby girl I think its time you told them and found out?" you father gently said.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That evening, right around dinner time, your doorbell rang. Your family was puzzled as you weren't expecting any guests.

when you opened the door, Seulgi pulled you into her arms, while screaming "SURPRISE!" in your ear.

The sudden ambush surprised you and the two of you toppled over to the floor, along with the bags Seulgi was carrying. Your parents came out to inspect the noise only to see a giggling mess of two girls surrounded by bags.

"What's all this? How come you're here I thought you might have practice until late night? Are you hungry?" you asked, as you voiced your thoughts as they occurred.

Seulgi helped you to your feet before collecting the stuff that had fallen. "I can't believe you're here after all this time! I left practice early because I didn't want to let your first day back here go without meeting you!"

"What's all this?" you asked curiously.

"Great things come to those who wait." She said cheekily. "I'm super hungry, have you had dinner yet?"

"We were just about to, c'mon." you said, leading her to the dinning room.

The four of you sat down to eat and Seulgi and you chatted your heads off. She kept complimenting the food, and you realised that home cooked food must be pretty rare for her too.

After eating to your hearts content, you went to your room to finally uncover the mystery of the bags.

"Okay, here we go." she said, handing you one bag after another. You found books, chocolate, jewelry and even a Red Velvet light stick.

"Seul, whats all this for?"

"These are just things I've been wanting to give you for a while now. Whenever I saw something you might like, I picked up and kept it with me to give it to you when we meet. I hope you like them?” she asked, her voice soft. 

“Of course I do, they’re all such thoughtful gifts, Seul, thank you so much.” you said as you pulled her in for a hug. Your eyes welled with tears, and you sniffled into her shoulder. 

“Hey cry baby! I just wanted to get these for you okay now just use them nicely.” She said, wiping your tears. 

“I didn’t get you anything great, except this book I read. It’s really nice. I also made you a playlist for the holidays, and uhhh.....” you trailed off. 

“Hmm?”

“Yeah that’s... that’s all. Here.” you said, your heart thumping in your chest as you handed her a book and a CD. You couldn’t bring yourself to give her the last gift yet. 

“Thank you much! I was actually looking for a good book and I seriously missed your playlists. You mind reader. Never fails to surprise me.” 

She giggled and put the CD into the player and pulled you to dance with her. You spent the rest of the evening talking, singing, dancing and eating the chocolates she brought. 

Closer to 12 am, however, you had to say your goodbyes. You were lucky that her manager had let her out so long. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

You spent the rest of your time buried in your internship and your weekends with Seulgi. It was never a one on one though, the other girls from Red Velvet joined in, or some of your friends from high school. You went to their practices and performances on occasion. She was a force to reckon with when on stage and a total sweetheart off stage.

You thought that being with her and having to adjust your schedules might knock some sense into you, but that failed as well. 

You just fell for her, harder. 

How on earth could you contain your feelings any longer?  You had do something about it before the holidays ended. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Seul, I really want to get away for this weekend. It’ll be my last one here and the weather is perfect, I want to go to the beach.” you said to her, on an evening shopping spree. 

“The beach? That actually sounds like a good idea. Now that all the comeback promotions are over, I might get some free time. We could go on a little road trip!” she said.

The two of you planned out the logistics before heading home. You couldn’t wait for the weekend. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The ride to the beach was fun, you sang on the top of your lungs and ate a lot of junk food. You missed how organic it was - a weird way to put it - but hanging out with Seulgi like this reminded you of the days you would sneak out to the lake near the end of town to watch the sunset after school. 

Back then you were worried about your hopes and dreams and future, and she was worried about hers. Not once did you think that maybe your futures had a chance of reuniting. 

You got her ice cream, played volleyball with a few other people and took lots of photos on the polaroid camera you got for her. The sky was clear and you could not have picked a better day. The two of you built sand castles, and watched the tide take it away in its clutches, leaving behind beautiful shells in exchange. A fair transaction, you thought. 

Settling on a towel on the shore, Seulgi handed you your ukulele. It had been ages since you had played, but once you saw the excitement on her face, you knew you couldn’t say no. 

So slowly and surely, you began signing the one song you still remembered the chords to - Don’t U Wait No More. You were feeling a bit bold, but when Seulgi joined in, you couldn’t help the thumping in your chest. 

“Wow I didn’t think you would’ve known that song!” Seulgi said, once you finished. 

“Well how could I call myself your best friend if I didn’t know all of your discography?” you replied. 

Seulgi’s smile faltered a bit but she covered it up with a cute giggle. 

Pulling you on your feet she called out, “Last one to the food shack is a loser!”, as she took off toward the other end of the beach. 

The setting sun graced the horizon, as you chased behind her, struggling to keep up. “Seulgi, wait!! I can’t run that fast!” 

“C’mon slow poke!” 

She lessened her pace as she turned to face the sea. Her mouth was open in surprise and as you caught up, she pointed out, “Hey, isn’t that so beautiful?” 

You couldn’t tear your eyes off her, however, and merely replied a simple, “Yeah”. 

The only sounds that were heard were your panting and the ocean waves meeting the shore. You wanted to stay in this moment forever, knowing fully that this was your last chance to do something. 

“Seul..” you said, quietly. 

“Hmm?”

“Seul I wanted to tell you something.”

She turned to look at you, her face washed over with a sense of calm. 

The sight made all the words that collected in your throat go back to the pit of your stomach, as you held your breath. 

“Go on.” she said. 

“I uh.. I don’t know how to say this but, I really I’ve just been wanting to tell you this and I don’t know how to..”

She closed the distance between the two of you and held your hand. 

“It’s okay, you can tell me anything.” 

“Kang Seulgi. I’ve known you for so long, and I don’t when it all started but I can’t keep it in anymore. You know that song by Day6 ? I Like You? This is exactly that.

I like you. More than I can say. I don’t know if you feel the same but I had to let you know.” you finished, your cheeks aflame like the setting sun. 

You looked down at the sand, not daring to see her reaction. 

She lifted your chin up gently with her fingers and looked at you with such emotion, before pulling you in for a kiss. 

It was soft, like she was, and you tasted the vanilla of the ice cream she had earlier. You mind buzzed with a million thoughts and at the same time you couldn’t process any of it. You wanted to be in that moment. 

Kang Seulgi was kissing you. 

When she pulled away, she tucked a stray lock of hair behind your ear, before smiling fondly at you. 

“Does that take away your worries? I can’t believe it took you so long to tell me. I was about to confess, myself, but I wanted to see just how far you would go with those bottled up emotions.” she teased. 

You pulled into a hug as the two of you giggled. “Wait, you liked me too?” you asked. 

“Right from the day you choked on your chocolate milk back in high school, and it came out through your nose.”

“Whaaat why- why would that make you like me?”

“You’re my best friend, you’re funny and cute and smart and you take care of me well, how could I not like you?”

You took a moment to process the information. 

“Also, I’m pretty sure the girls were fed up about me pining after you, they came close to telling you so many times! Now they can finally shut up.” she said, as she interlinked your arms and led you toward the food stalls. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“.... and then she handed me a book of poems she had written in our years away. It was almost like the sonnets from Shakespeare’s plays, if I must say.” Seulgi finished.   

“Oh my god that is so cute unnie! You guys are adorable I’m just so glad we don’t have to deal with Seulgi’s whining anymore.” Yeri commented after you told her the events that had transpired on the beach. 

“Oh no, if you think that was bad, wait till you have to deal with her for the next year.” Irene replied sharply. 

It completely slipped your mind that you had the last year of college to finish, away form Seulgi.  

“Well, we’ll find a way to work around it right honey?” Seulgi said, as she placed a soft kiss on your cheek. 

Yeri stuck her tongue out and said, “Gross, guys! Ugh you’re right unnie we’re going to suffer!” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You can find my masterlist here. 

[osmw1]

Head Over Heels from the Scarf I Lent Her  Chapter 5—The Warm Sun, and Lunch

“So? What happened afterwards?” “What are you on about all of a sudden?”

Ōyodo Jun—my classmate who sits in front of me—leans his arm on the back of his chair and turns to me. It isn’t unusual for Jun to start rambling about something incomprehensible, but it sounds awfully as if he’s talking about Satsuki. She’s a total lifesaver for cleaning Tooru’s room. Jun lets out a dirty smirk and looks at Tooru.

“Something had to had happened, right? She’s totally fallen for you.” “What, do you think I’ve got the balls to do anything to a girl as cute as her?” “… you’re being serious. Well, I guess not.”

For some reason, Jun dejectedly pouts as he shifts his arm from the seatback to Tooru’s desk.

“What a letdown, man. You gotta get better stories to tell.” “Why do I have to make sacrifices just to amuse you?” “That’s the way how things work. Hurry up and get a girl.” “Ow, cut it out.”

Tooru pushes Jun away, who was smacking him on his head, and then places his elbows on his desk too.

“First of all, you don’t have a girlfriend either. You better check yourself first.” “Gah! Straight through the heart! You don’t mince words, do you?”

Ignoring his exaggerated reaction, Tooru instead overhears the conversation of another group.

“Didja hear about Miyamoto Amane’s little sister?” “Yeah, dude. They she’s a total babe, unlike Amane. Go hit her up.” “You crazy? I’m not about to poke the bear, thank you very much.”

Already famous on the second day of school, eh? Well, she was well-known to begin with anyway, so no surprise there. Seems like everyone is so scared of Amane that no one is willing to get close to Satsuki. That was Tooru’s plan too, but somehow things ended up this way.

Luckily, Amane is another class so Tooru hasn’t got mixed up in her business at all. Unlike Satsuki, there’s not much noteworthy about how Amane looks, save for her chest. She’s probably number one in school in that aspect. It’s a mystery what she thinks about her younger sister, but Tooru isn’t about to march up to her and ask. And why does Satsuki look so down as well? It’s gotta have something to do with her family, but she didn’t seem like she wanted to talk about it. As he’s just her acquaintance, Tooru can only remain an outsider—whether for her sake or his own. Seems like Jun has overheard the other group too. Still sitting backwards on his chair, he faces Tooru.

“Must be tough then.” “It’s not too bad. We’re gonna be going home separately.” “Huh? You two are planning to meet every day?” “Ah…”

Tooru had dug his own grave and Jun has a shit-eating grin on his face.

“You’ve finally showed your true colors.” “It’s not like I’ve done any—” “Shut up! And treat me to something with your paycheck!” “What?! Why do I have to?!”

Tooru dodges Jun’s attacks and then sits back, spacing out. Satsuki’s face pops into his mind. They’re friends or something or other now, right? She’s not alone anymore like that winter day, right? His daydreams are cut short by the bell.

  Tooru always eats lunch at the same place—a sunny spot behind the school. It’s his daily routine to sit on the concrete outside of an unused classroom on the first floor. And of course, if it’s raining or snowing, he’d eat lunch inside instead.

But today, the warm spring air lulls the sandman. To have lunch while basking in the sun was Tooru’s thing and this is his place. Or was. He spots a familiar figure and waves.

“Hey, Miyamoto. Fancy meeting you here.” “Wha—?!”

Satsuki was sitting there about to open her lunch box. Her face is bright red like she was taken by complete surprise. After making sure not a single other soul was around, Tooru sits down next to Satsuki, leaving but a little room between them. On the other hand, perhaps still surprised, her face was still flushed red.

Sitting side by side again, Satsuki is small. She’s probably not even 160 cm tall. On the other hand, Tooru passed the 180 cm mark already. Sure, the average height of high schoolers is going higher and higher, but Tooru himself didn’t even think he’d grow this much.

That’s why it was natural for him to be able to look at what she has for lunch. Wieners cut into the shape of octopuses, omelette, and veggie stir-fry with a small portion of white rice. You could even say that this is the traditional Japanese packed lunch. On the other hand, Tooru’s lunch was fried chicken from the freezer section and rice. He had just had an earful from Jun, saying how he’s soon going to get fat. So, Tooru retaliated with a punch.

“Your lunch sure looks good.” “Oh, you think so?” “I’ve only got some previously-frozen chicken and rice. Probably isn’t doing my body any good.” “That’s true…”

Though he would’ve preferred her saying otherwise, Tooru relaxed after seeing Satsuki strain a laugh. He’s not sure what to make of it, but Satsuki suddenly waving her hands around.

“Umm, I would still like you even if you get a little chubbier too, though!” “Et tu, Satsuki?”

Tooru was at a loss as he opened his lunch box. Is that my future? I’m destined to be overweight? But even then, he’s busy in the morning getting ready for school and busy at night studying. He just wants to keep his grades up is all.

Still, how scary it would be to get fat before graduating. Like, actually. Not wanting him to feel down, the seemingly flustered Satsuki gives him a little fist pump.

“It’s okay. If you’re worried about it, then I’ll help you out!”

Satsuki bursts out with absolute energy. He had been hanging his head down but looks up at the girl so full of enthusiasm and responds like a burnt-out boxer.

“Support? What kind of support?” “How about making you both lunch and dinner?!” “Huh?!”

Of course, he was shocked. Not only is Satsuki bound to be busy in the morning, but wouldn’t she be like his mom packing him a lunch? He hesitates to put such a burden on her.

“No way I can do that to you…” “It would not be a big deal. If anything, it’s hard to cook just one portion, you know?”

He could only nod back. It doesn’t seem like she’s even half-joking. Tooru isn’t familiar with cooking enough to have a sense for that, but it sounds plausible.

And this would be good for his health too. Tooru could avoid the whole getting fat thing. However, he couldn’t just ask for this favor all of a sudden; it’s a lot more time and effort. Isn’t there something he could think of? Satsuki looks up at the thinking Tooru. Her youthfulness really felt like as if she were his younger sister. He’s seriously contemplating ideas, but still almost reached out to pat her head.

Needless to say, though, Tooru had neither the guts nor the feelings for her. He shakes the thought off and keeps thinking. And then, an idea, though a trivial one.

“In that case, I’ll pay you for each lunch.” “But, you’re…” “You’ll be using your own ingredients, right? It’d only be right for me to pay for my share.”

Satsuki looked like she wanted to say something, but she lets out a small breath and nods with a smile.

“Okay then, if you’re fine with that.” “Alright, it’s a plan. Thank you, Madam Miyamoto, for saving me from obesity.” “You’re exaggerating… and call me like you normally do.”

Satsuki waves her hand as if she were a little embarrassed, making him want to protect her even more. Even if she might be feeling down from her home situation, it doesn’t seem like it’s such a big deal to her.

“Anyway, shall we eat? Lunchtime is almost over.” “You’re right. I salute you, frozen food. You have served me well.” “Frozen food sure is handy.”

Tooru responds with a quipping laugh as Satsuki teases him. And then, once again, he looks at her lunch. It looked good the first time he looked, and it still looks good now. He’d love to try a bite. Seeing through him, Satsuki grabs a piece of omelette with her chopsticks and looks up at him. Her hair flows to the other shoulder.

“Want some? A taste-test.” “Uhh, you sure?” “Of course. Consider it research to see what you like.”

Oh, thank you so much. Even Tooru was doubting whether his chicken was enough for lunch.

“Oh, you don’t have to feed me it… it’s a little embarrassing.” “Oh, really?” “Aren’t you…? Anyway, you can just put it in my container and I’ll eat it myself.”

Satsuki’s face turns bright red again after hearing what he said. Then, she silently puts the egg on top of his food. So, it wasn’t on purpose yesterday after all. Tooru then looks down at the omelette.

It looks well-made and smells slightly sweet. There’s no way it won’t taste good. He opens his mouth and stuff his cheeks with the omelette. Tooru looks over to his side to find Satsuki with a nervous look on her face.

His eyes open wide.

Delicious. It’s perfectly seasoned with both salt and sugar. There’s even slight undertones of broth to it. Tooru has never had an omelette this tasty before. It’s even better than his mother’s.

“Miyamoto, this is amazing.”

He tells her with his mouth full of food and Satsuki chastises him for being improper. The tension had been completely cut and she relaxes her shoulders.

“Thank you. I’m so glad you like it.”

Her smile is as dazzling as always. Tooru didn’t think she could smile this brightly at first, but now he knows better. Swallowing his food revealed a light aftertaste of sweetness and broth. She’s even accounted for aftertaste.

“I’ve got great hopes for tomorrow’s lunch now.” “Look forward to it, okay?”

Their time together was soft and comfortable, if over too soon.

contents: /ch001/ /ch002/ /ch003/ /ch004/ /ch005/ /next/

(please support me on Patreon or Paypal)

[waitinginthedarke]

The Hammock

Summary: Your adventures with Jay Park and a Hammock

‘Babe? Are you home?’ 

You’d been waiting for that voice all day. 

Ever since you’d woken up that morning to see that he wasn’t laid next to you in bed, having already got up, had a shower, and left for work, you’d been craving the sound of his scratchy, tenor pitch tone. When you’d rolled over to grab your phone from the dresser and checked it for messages, you’d found his usual morning greeting staring back at you; a selfie sent on snow, of him with puffed cheeks and widened eyes, today appearing to be a human peach, which was a great improvement on the day before when he’d scared you with a terrifying clown filter.

But after a day of hectic schedules and meetings that didn’t interest you in the slightest, yet demanded your presence, the sound of him kicking off his shoes and slipping into his monster foot slippers, humming as he drops his bag beside the entry way before making his way to raid the fridge, has you smiling happily as you’re pulled out of the reaches of sleep just as it was about to catch up to you.

‘I’m in the usual place.’ you call out tiredly, stretching your eyes wide to try and keep yourself awake as you feel yourself sinking into the cushion filled hammock Jay had set up in his snug a few months before. He’d used the excuse that you were ‘always falling asleep on him when he was trying to show you his music’ in order to construct the cozy, delightfully warm hanging, saying it was easier to just climb into it with you than to carry you back to bed after he’d finished his work. But more often than not, you’d found yourself making your way sleepily to the hammock in his snug instead of your own bedroom after a long day, enjoying how it felt like sleeping on clouds, and how, because he spent so much time there, the room smelt more like him than your actual bedroom, the scent comforting you as you’d fallen asleep.

‘Hammock?...again?’ 

His voice appearing in the doorway makes you realize you’d almost fallen asleep again, and you scrunch your eyes in playful irritation as you hear him chuckle at you, the sounds of crunching and chewing speeding up the time it takes for you to open your eyes as your stomach growls eagerly for food.

‘What are you eating?’ you mumble.

‘Yah! Where’s the ‘my handsome boyfriend, i’m so happy you’re finally home! How has your day been? I’ve missed you all day’-’

You raise an eyebrow at him mocking you, waiting for him to finish and smirking when you catch his eye, causing him to trail off with a sheepish smirk, before pushing himself off of the door frame and walking over to you.

‘Hey!’ you whine, when he suddenly drops himself into the hammock with you, making it swing wildly for a moment and causing you to squeal quietly in your surprise, until you fall into him in your quest to find out what chips he had, the two of you chuckling and laughing as you continue to wobble and shuffle, until you’d come to lie beside him, both at an awkward angle, but finally comfortable as he slips his arm around your shoulders.

‘Ahh man! You didn’t even pick up a good flavour.’ you whine when you catch sight of the chip packet label and you smell the bag, wrinkling your nose in distaste, but snatching a chip from the packet anyway and shoving it into your mouth before he could steal it back from you, giggling when you catch sight of the scowl he sends your way.

‘Hey! If you’re going to complain at my choice of food, you can always go and get your own! No-one’s stopping you!’ he argues, smirking smugly to himself, and because he’d teased you so much you’re quick to shove the packet into his face, laughing wickedly at his look of surprise, before scrambling to get out of the hammock when he turns his narrowed eyes on you.

You squeal and cry out playfully when he grabs your hips, batting at his hands as you try to get away, and finding yourself getting twisted in the fabric of the hammock when you think you’d made it to safety, dropping unceremoniously to the floor as your feet fail to make contact with a stable surface and groaning when your knees crash dully to the hard ground.

When you hear his proud chuckle the urge to smack him rises quickly within you. But its just as you go to voice your complaint that he’s suddenly rolling out of the hammock towards you, dropping down beside you on the floor, and turning his head to look at you with a smug smile, his lips pulling back from his gums as his black hair flops in tousled mess above him.

‘Jagi...im horny.’

Its the bold way in which he makes his statement that causes you to scoff, the sound getting cut off when not even a second later he’d moved quickly to hover over you, his thump of his knees either side of your hips, and his hands either side of your head surprising you a little, yet also causing adrenaline to flood your veins in the most pleasant way as you stare up into his eyes that were full of excitement.

‘I’m serious, Jagi...lets fool around...’

The smirk he flashes you before he presses his lips to yours was the first breaking point for you; Jay knowing the look always had you weak kneed for him. 

But its when he smooths his hands down your torso, his fingers stretching over your body languidly until his palms spread against your hips, and the heels of his hands slowly stroke toward your core, that you know you’re not going to be ending that night without him getting what he wanted...

Not that you minded in the slightest.

‘Not the floor though, its too uncomfortable,’ you murmur around the kiss, experiencing an inner turmoil as you grab at his shoulders to pull him closer, whilst also wanting to move somewhere else so that you could really enjoy him, his hot breaths huffing from his nose across your face making tingles riot between your legs.

‘Sure thing, babe.’ he whispers, suddenly wrapping your legs around his waist, and you immediately get the hint, locking your thighs tightly around him as he picks you up, struggling to keep you close enough to not break the kiss, but you make sure to knot your arms around his neck so that you could continue crashing your lips to his, feeling the craving for him that usually awoke when he suggested sex rise within you rapidly, and the ferocity in your actions instantly increases as your nails sink into the skin of his shoulders.

‘mmmfph, no...I need you now.’ he huffs as soon as he takes a step in the direction of the door and he cottons onto your need for him, his comment confusing you as you go to argue that the bed would be the best place, before he’s suddenly letting go of you, and you yelp as you drop down, expecting to hit the floor, but instead finding yourself dropping into the soft...comfortable confines...

...of the hammock.

‘We cant do it here.’ you argue immediately, making to try and get back up despite your semi-folded position in the hammock making it almost impossible, but you’re stopped anyway as soon as you look up to see him removing his tshirt, his bronze skin glowing back at you as soon as its uncovered and captivating you with its beauty.

‘Why not? You love the hammock...and its got to have more than one use right?’ he grins devilishly, leaning back over you, straddling the hammock as he reconnects your lips, and despite knowing it wasn’t going to turn out well, you find your argument being dragged away as his tongue sweeps it out of your mouth.

‘Fuck. Its real bad, baby. I need to fuck you...now.’ he pants, his hands already having roamed under your tshirt to find your breasts, and you breathe harshly as his mouth moves to your neck and he roles and tweaks your nipples between his fingers, grip tightening and pulling with the more needy he got for you, and you keen quietly into his mouth, the sound enticing him enough to have his hips rocking forcefully into yours despite the barrier of your clothes.

‘Damnit, why are we still dressed.’ he mutters, retracting his hands from you momentarily, which leaves you to whine in frustration, but after a second of him hopping off of the hammock to strip himself down, he almost instantly turns back to you and pulls you so that you were laid sideways, eyes flashing with mischief as his fingers immediately curl in the waist band of your lounge shorts. 

‘I need you so bad, Jay.’

They were the words that always got him moving faster, tempting the devil in him which couldn’t help but roar excitedly at the offering before him, and so in less time than should be imaginable, you’re stripped of your clothes, and are left butt-naked on the hammock in front of him, just as he leans over you once more.

‘Damn, im so lucky you’re mine. ...You’re so fucking hot...beautiful...delicious...’ he whispers raggedly between kisses that slowly trail from your mouth to one of your breasts, the feeling of his teeth teasing your nipple causing you to gasp, but its not until you feel his fingers suddenly drift through your moist folds that were aching readily for him, that you moan needily into the quiet of the room which before had only been disturbed by your heavy panting.

‘Fuck...thats my favourite sound.’ he growls against your breast, the feeling causing your whole body to tremble in want as your hands clasp desperately at his neck and shoulders, the words to beg him to go further on the tip of your tongue, but not managing to leave you as you get lost in the sensation of his mouth suckling almost harshly at your nipple, and his fingers sliding from the tantalizing patterns they’d been tracing around your clit, to sink into you knuckle deep.

‘Fuuuuck...’ you moan, the word getting cut off as the air gets caught in your throat at the unbelievably delicious feeling of being able to tighten around him, although even coupled with the way he moves his mouth from your breast to bite possessively at a patch of skin just below your jaw as he begins to curl the digits within you, you already knew you wanted...you needed...more of him.

‘Do you know how jealous the other guys got when they met you for the first time and saw how hot you were?’ he pants against your neck between kisses, beginning to thrust his digits in and out of you as you spread your thighs as wide as you could for him, the hammock beginning to swing the tiniest bit in time with his movements and causing his breath to skim over your skin as he leans up a little to look down at you as he goes on, eyes pitch black with lust.

‘They’re always going on about how hot they think you’d look during sex, but i only ever laugh at them, because they have no idea....’ he states, his free hand now groping your breast obscenely as you writhe at his touch, pulling his head down to you desperately so that you could crash your mouth against his, sloppily kissing him and biting his lip in the process, which ends up exciting him even more than he already was, and causing him to withdraw his fingers from you just as you felt the stirrings of your high ignite within you.

‘No-Jay-’ you go to protest, just before you open your eyes where you’d shut them in your deliriousness, to see him stroking himself as he looks down at you devilishly, eyes raking your body till his gaze comes to a stop on your core.

‘You’ve had your fun baby girl...now let me have mine.’ he growls, glancing up at you darkly, before positioning himself correctly, and using the hammock to slowly slide himself into you, the sigh of fullness you let out sounding obscene in your ears, but its quickly swallowed by his own as it echoes around the room.

‘Fuck. ...how do you always feel like fucking heaven?!’ he moans, curling over you momentarily, his hands resting on the wall above you as he appears to get lost in the feel of you wrapped tightly around him, and you cant help but clench yourself teasingly as you watch his face through your light-headed happiness, smirking when his eyes snap open to look down at you and see the way you were teasing him.

‘If you weren’t so damn adorable I’d fuck you into next week.’ he mutters, as his hips rock quickly in repayment for your teasing, dragging a moan of want from you at the friction it brought, before his own smirk has you pulling his head back down to you so that you could lock your mouths together, your legs wrapping around his waist, and your heels digging into his back encouraging him to begin moving...

...and thats when you realized the true worth of the hammock.

Each rock of his hips is followed by a gentle swing of the hanging, which allows him to easily speed up the pace, the rhythm being tricky to get right at first, but after a few moments of you whining when he pulls away from the kiss to get his stance right, and a few practice thrusts, you’re tumbling into another realm of ecstasy as your grip pulses on him, desperately trying to hold onto him whilst you float away on a cloud of lust.

‘Ooh fUck, babe...you gotta warn me before-’

Your loud moan of his name cuts off any complaint he was about to make as you clench around him, your walls spasming happily as you pant harshly with the orgasm that rushes over you, causing stars to crowd your vision, and air to struggle its way into your lungs, your nails sinking into his shoulders desperately seeking purchase to stop you from getting taken away on the tide of your high.

‘I could-n’t...I its-’ you try to explain the overwhelming high of your orgasm, tripping over the words as he continues to thrust aggressively into you, the hammock beginning to rock wildly with his movements, until you feel your first high rush into the next and you accidentally whine so harshly at the sensation that the sound slips into a scream as you feel his shoulders bunch under your touch and his hips snap purposefully against yours as he begins to spill into you, the hand that had moved to hold your thigh being painfully tight, but not being able to filter in through the sounds of groans of satisfaction and pants seeking air desperately to rake into your overwhelmed lungs. Your chest continues to heave with the effort of coming down from your high, and your vision is so blurred that you barely see the way he slides out of you, instinctively responding to the feel of his lips suddenly on yours as he leans down to connect your mouths in a lazy kiss, before suddenly the hammock is once again swinging wildly as he collapses down into it next to you.

You smile languidly as he throws a leg over yours, the feel of the moisture beginning to coat in between your thighs making you feel slightly grim, but you’re too tired to move right then, even though you knew he’d be pissed if you ended up staining the hammock- although technically, it was his fault anyway.

‘I’ve achieved the dream;....do a whole day of hard work, and then come home to have sex with a beautiful, hot-as-fuck girl that is yours...’ he mutters sleepily next to your ear, his words making you snicker as you tiredly shuffle slightly so that you could turn onto your side, allowing him to curl around you, and his arm snaking around your waist as he sighs happily and presses a kiss into your shoulder has the all too familiar butterflies that he conjured in you battering at your insides.

‘I love you, Babe.’ he murmurs quietly, fingers drawing small circles against your skin, and you cant help happily laying your arm over his and interlinking your fingers as you murmur those same three words back at him, both of your minds thinking the same thing as you finally slip into the clutches of sleep.

You couldn’t wait to use the Hammock again.

THE END

[lovelylittlekittenstuff-blog]

BTS Reaction: When you fight And they say something that hurts You

Namjoon:

You knew he didn’t like the outfit you wore since it showed off to much skin for him, but you ignored his request and did what you wanted. Resulting in a big fight. You: I just think I should be able to wear whatever i feel comfortable in !! Namjoon: You know what you’re always being so damn selfish in our relationship !!!! You couldn’t move the only thing that was moving was the tears that streamed down your cheeks. he didn’t think for even a second seeing you cry was something he never wanted to see. He pull’t you into a hug, holding you till you were done crying. You: I’m sorry for being so selfish. Namjoon: It’s not your fault, it’s mine for not trusting that even if another guy were to love you just as much you would never leave me. I’m sorry for not beliving you.

Yoongi:

Boys like always were hitting on you and it just made Him angry  when the guys  clearly saw you were with him would still dare to hit on you. He forced all his anger out on you. Yoongi: Damn, Y/N why do you have to be suck a fucking slut all the time. At that moment you fell to your knees crying, cause in that very moment that was what you felt like something disgusting a slut nothing more. You: Please, Yoongi I’m sorry. I’m sorry If I’M a slut. You felt that you were at his mercy. Yoongi: Stand up. You stood up body shaking. Yoongi hugged you and softly kissed you then looked you dead in the eye. Yoongi: Fuck everything I just said. Don’t you ever think that low of yourself.

Jin:

You were completely ingnoring him, it wasn’t on purpose. You were just really busy with work lately and to stressed to talk about it at all. Jin: Y/N Your cheating on me aren’t you is this why your not talking to me !?!?! I dropped my bag at the thought that he would think so low of me. I turn’t around my eyes red from tears already streaming, and hitting the floor making a little patter sound. You: I’M hurt that you think i would cheat on you. Jin I’M stressed, okay stressed to the point where I want to rip my own hair out I can’t take it anymore. I leaned my body against his chest. Jin: Please don’t think that i thought so low of you I was just angry at myself for not knowing what was wrong with you so I just took it out you.

Hobi:

You were always talking to him cuddling with him, but your boss was being so hard on you, you didn’t feel like even that could relive you of everything. So you shut him out which made him angry. Hobi: Do you not love me anymore is this why you are avoding me !! If you have fallen out of love with me or never loved me just tell me !?!?! You: i can’t belive you. Hobi I’m sick, I’m sick of working, I’M sick of myself, I’M sick of everything, I’M done with everything, I’M done with life. He hugged you for hours not letting you go anywhere without him. Hobi: You’re going to have to kill me before i let you be done with your lie and i know you don’t have the heart.

Taehyung:

Your father had come to see you recently and you don’t have found memories of him. you couldn’t tell Tae you were afraid he’d be disgusted of you, of what your father sis when he came to see you. So you started ignoring him and just being alone to cry to yourself. Tae: Y/N You are hardly home you never kiss me cuddle with me are you cheating on me !?!?! You: I didn’t want it I said no, but he did it anyways I didn’t want him please don’t hate me. Tae: I don’t hate you who hurt you Y/N You have to tell me. you sobbed. You:  Appa, My Appa...

Jimin: In everyones eyes you were never good enough thats why you loved Jimin so much he made you feel like you were worth something like you were loved and needed. So when he told you otherwise why wouldn’t you belive him ? You had acidently made him late for work. Jimin: Sometimes Y/N you are just worthless !! You felt incompetent. You: I’m sorry, please don’t hate me I won’t do it again. Jimin: It’s not your fault i’m just stressed and bamed everything on my innocent angel.

Jungkook:

It seemed like you guys fought for the littlest things. You: Oppa ? I’M hungry. Jungkook: You are just so lazy you can’t even make yourself food !!! he knew that you were super fragile to anything that was said to you. You started crying. You: I just wanted to go get something to eat together. Jungkook kissed you many times. Jungkook: baby i’m sorry I’m just tired.

[fixxofvixx]

HEALING RAVI - CHAPTER 12

Hello~~~~

I hope everyone is doing okay!!

I have a nice fluffy ravi chapter for you. I hope you like it!!

Shit may or may not hit the fan in the next chapter so stay tuned 😎

Lemme know what you think or just come and say hi!!

Enjoy!

🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺

JiYoon picked up her phone and read the text from Taekwoon telling them to wait and come tomorrow. She got up from the couch in Wonshik’s studio and walked over to where he was working on the computer.

“Wonshik, Taekwoon sent a message for us to come tomorrow instead.”

“Okay. Just give me a few minutes and we’ll get something to eat.”

She smiled, knowing that it would probably be another few hours. Wonshik had been working like a madman the past couple of days.

It would be normal if he were working on music. Instead, he was trying to find any trace of JooHyung. After realizing that JooHyung disappeared after Taekwoon was stabbed, he spent every waking hour trying to find him.

After another hour, she sighed, knowing she would have to force him from the chair like usual.

“Wonshik, come on, you’ve been at this all day. Time to take a break.”

He leaned back in his chair and stretched. She tried not to notice how his shirt molded to his chest when he did. She felt guilty for finding him attractive. She knew it was silly in the back of her mind. But, she still didn’t feel like she deserved to be in a relationship with someone. Almost as if her brain refused to let her relax and be happy.

“JiYoon? You ok?”

She blinked and realized that she was still looking at his chest. Fire ignited over her features and Wonshik smiled warmly at her. She stood, paralyzed, when a slight glow shone in his blue eyes.

Her voice caught in her throat and her heart galloped. Wonshik’s facial expression indicated that he’d heard it and his smiled widened.

“What'cha thinking about?”

“Nothing.” Her attempt at a normal voice was failing. “Do you have any idea what you want to eat?”

“Hmm, yes, but I don’t think you’re ready for that stage yet.” He winked at her, loving her embarrassed expression. He simply loved teasing her. However, this time, he took pity on her and stopped. He could tell she was tired and hungry. She’d been by his side every minute since Taekwoon had been stabbed. He needed her. He wanted to give her stability, love, and safety. Then, just maybe, she would let him spend the rest of his life with her.

He rose from his chair and grabbed her hand.

“Let’s get something on the way. I have something to show you.”

Thirty minutes later with food in hand, Wonshik ushered her into the elevator of their apartment building.

“Are we going back?” She shifted nervously in the closed in space with him. Unconsciously, she picked at the bag that held the various snacks and sodas they had gathered from the convenience store.

“Not exactly. I’ve been thinking about some things lately. And my sister called me the other day.” The elevator reached the 12th floor and they stepped out. But, instead of heading left to his apartment, he led her the opposite way. She looked at him, confused, when he stopped at the end of the hallway in front of one of the apartment doors.

“This is my sister’s apartment. I bought it for her about a year ago. She called me the other day and told me that she had gotten a job in Daegu and was going to live there. So, she wont be needing this apartment anymore.”

“Oh! Do you want me to clean it up for you? I can have it done in no time at all!”

He laughed at her willingness to help.

“No, honey.” She blushed at his words as he opened the door and led her inside. She looked around the tiny hallway and admired the beautifully decorated apartment. She walked into the kitchen and placed the bags on the counter. Wonshik followed and then turned to her.

“I want you to live here.”

She stopped dead still and looked at him.

“You want me to what?”

“I want you to have this apartment. I was already looking for one for you anyway. But when my sister called, I figured that this would be perfect. You already have furniture and everything!”

Tears appeared in her eyes and a lump formed in her throat.

“Whoa, whoa, don’t cry! You don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to!”

She simply shook her head and threw her arms around his waist. She buried her head in his chest and cried silently.

“JiYoon? Sweetheart, talk to me? You really don’t have to stay here.”

“Its not that.” Her voice was muffled and shaking.

“Then what is it?”

She lifted her head and stared at him. His hands came up to wipe the tears from her face.

“Why are you so nice to me?”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” His brow furrowed and a frown settled into his face.

“This apartment, you gave me a job, and you’re willing to date me. I-I just don’t understand. I’m constantly waiting for something bad to happen.”

“You mean you’re waiting for me to snap.” He didn’t say it as a question. Itwas a statement.

“Not necessarily. I trust you but I just keep thinking I’m going to wake up one day back in that building. I’m constantly waiting for HaeJeong to show up. The only thing that keeps me sane is knowing you’re near me. But my mind just can’t understand why.”

“Please don’t think like that. I am here to stay, I can promise you that. I want to be with you. I can’t imagine my life without you now. I gave you a job because you have a good ear for music. I’m giving this apartment to you because I want you to have a place to call home. I’m dating you because I’m falling in love with you. I would give you the world if I could.” He cupped his hands around her cheeks and smiled. “You are safe with me. HaeJeong is long gone and I want you to enjoy your life. I know it will take som time for the memories of that place to fade. But I will work hard everyday to give you brand new ones. Okay?”

She nodded her head and smiled.

“Good. Now, do you want to eat and then I’ll give you a grand tour.” She nodded and he grabbed the bag of food.

An hour later, JiYoon followed Wonshik through the apartment.

“There’s only one bedroom but its big.” He opened the door and let her go in first. “Its all yours so decorate it how you want to.”

“Its beautiful the way it is.” The entire apartment was decorated simply. Almost everything was done in black and white with small splashes of color in various areas.

“Wonshik, are you sure this is okay? What about your sister?”

“I told her what I was going to do and she was happy about it. She was glad that someone would be able to enjoy it. She loves her job in Daegu so she’ll probably put down her roots there.” He followed her out of the bedroom and over to the large picture window in the living room.

She stepped up to the window and admired the view of the city.

“I’m so happy that you came into that building to get me. I’ll never be able to repay you for that.”

“Thats not something you repay, sweetheart.” His arms circled around her waist and brought her back against his chest.

Her heart kicked up as she felt the warmth radiating from his body. Since night had fallen on the city, she could see the bright blue of his eyes in the reflection.

“I only wish I could have found you sooner.” He lowered his head to rest on her shoulder.

“You found me. Thats all that matters.”

Her heart skipped when she felt his lips on her shoulder. They were light, feathery kisses but made her skin tingle. Her hand squeezed his arm still wrapped around her waist.

“This okay?” His deep voice was right next to her ear and she shuddered. She nodded her head as he tightened his hold on her.

He hugged her all the time, but this was new. He had yet to kiss her. She had wondered when he would. The thought was exciting and frightening all at the same time.

A small gasp escaped her when his lips moved to her neck, just below her ear. All she could hear now was her heart, pounding her ears.

“Okay?” Again, she nodded.

He continued to pepper kisses from her jaw down to her shoulders as she proceeded to fall apart at his touches.

His arms left her waist suddenly and she started to protest. She quieted when his hands turned her body towards his. She dared to look into his eyes and was unable to look away. Her back was now flush against the window and the coolness of the window felt good on her overheated body.

Wonshik stepped closer to her and raised his hand to cup her cheek. He lowered his head very slowly until his lips were mere inches from her own. He looked at her again, waiting for permission to continue. Her only answer was to close her eyes.

She waited for what seemed like an eternity until she felt his lips on hers.

Like on her shoulder, his kiss was light and feathery. When she didn’t protest, he applied more pressure. Her heart went into overdrive when his mouth finally opened over hers. His fingers lost themselves in her hair and his other hand held on desperately to her waist.

After the initial shock wore off, she began to kiss him back. He inhaled sharply when she did. Her hand rested over his chest and she could feel his heartbeat, matching her own in acceleration.

A barely audible growl escaped from his chest as he pulled away from her. She glanced up at his face for just a moment before hiding her head, giggling. He chuckled and tried to pull her back. He gave up when she whined in embarrassment. He smoothed his hand down the back of her head, over and over, until he felt her pull back from him.

She looked up at him and smiled.

“Wonshik?”

“Hmm?”

“Will you do that again?”

He happily complied.

[midlifes]

<p>He opens his blinds.<br /></p><p>The string is tough and stiff between his parched fingers, and skin tears away slightly with the pulling pressure, red marks welling up like bloody handprints. A crystalline light floods in, seeps into the details of the floor and throws open closed shadows, revealing sprinkles of dust and dries flooding shadows swamping the corners of his stagnant room. For a moment, his room is still, black stains on the covers glinting as if still fresh and clothes piled next to his mirror curled in a disturbing imitation of a body.  </p><p>His tomb now appears as merely a room.</p><p>He lowers himself down onto the bed covers, stares hard at the sheets picturing nights spent here fingering at his bones, feeling that ache in his eye sockets that called to him something of lost sleep.  It doesn’t feel good, like a relief – not anymore. It appears as wasted opportunities, frustration, a waking moment from a long dream. </p><p>When he raises his hands to his face, appendages alight with the bright morning blaze and the slight smell of Derek’s shower gel gently emanating from his skin, he doesn’t count his fingers.</p><p>Instead, Stiles rubs the sleep from his eyes.</p><p>+++</p><p>Time is available to him now in amounts he cannot fill.</p><p>Everything once foggy and heavy is strangely clear, no longer can he be lost in the feel of ribs and the acrid smoke of the bonfire site to the side of his spaced out neighbourhood. He watches from fatigued eyes, sees a horrible clarity to a situation he had previously acknowledged but was content to leave.  He doesn’t know where to start fixing this, feeling the fragments of his life splintered off and sunk deep in his flesh. </p><p>It could be too late.</p><p>Scott’s number is alike to a brick in his pocket. Its mere existence is a constant presence in his mind, fingers twitching at half composed texts floating in his mind that he will never send – “I’m sorry.” “I know it was my fault,” “I can never replace her. I want to take it all back.” </p><p>(I’m better off dead, you didn’t deserve this, I need you right now, buddy)</p><p>He sends nothing. By now, Scott will know about his wings. About the imperfections that haunted him from the beginning, the lies Stiles has been shielding away under layers and layers of cotton and polyester. It must seem an awful lot like betrayal. Selfishness would be to hound him further about it, to dig the sword entwined in his guts deeper still.</p><p>Scott doesn’t deserve that. None of them deserve the reminder. He knows now by shadowing them as he did, trailing along like the mockery of Allison’s ghost did nothing but prolong their grief, their pain.  Drag it out into an endless tedium.</p><p>Without the threat of death, the steady knowledge of his decaying being, a knowledge he now recognizes as something of a past comfort, it seems he is oddly adrift, a boat without a anchor. He pulls his sheets from his bed, screws them up and fantasies of tearing them, burning them, throwing their scattered remains out to a foreign ocean; but finds that instead he lies on the stripped naked mattress and listens to the small sounds of his father below.</p><p>Beneath his hands the mattress is scratchy, and this is a sensation he concentrates on as he mulls over the twisted strings of his relationship with his father - <i>Dad</i> - and how far away yet impossibly easier it appeared to cry in his arms, covered in disease ridden blood. There was a simpleness to dying that he missed, to knowing that it didn’t particular matter what his actions were as he was unlikely to see the consequences, or that any consequences would possibly be minor in the face of no longer being alive. </p><p>Below, Stiles heard the rustle of a plastic bag. </p><p>The sky outside is a peculiar gold, the aged kind staining old photos of young boys with bowlcuts on unicycles; it is the colour of sentiment, uselessness, nostalgia. Trees reach towards it, twisted arms branching as if to embrace it and falling short, mourning in fallen leaves and broken branches. It is at odd with the boyish twist of the curtains that frame this window-bound scene, a binary blue thats furiously male neutral and uncharacteristic. It isn’t the perfect moment. The discord is painfully dull.</p><p>He presses his face further into the covers, closes his eyes to the mounting hindsight and dusty sheen to the air. His back prickles with a slight chill incited by the thorough spread of paste over the struggling expanse of his wings. They are limp and sodden, oozing a trickle of antiseptic into the dips of his back as it drips from the downturn of remaining fatigued feathers. He should pull them out – promote growth, clasp his hands together in mock prayer, fingernails digging harshly into his skin, and hope they grow back in boring greys.</p><p>Bland. Conventional. </p><p>Fading.</p><p>A door slams, his father clears his throat and dust filters into his breathing air.</p><p>+++++++++++++++++++</p><p>It’s not a thing people talk about a lot.</p><p>He’d noticed. The focus kept its glassy gaze locked down on The Event, the reason for this chain of emotions and events. All the brochures and websites and quaint little get togethers say they promote healing, moving forward, looking to the future – but the inbetween?</p><p>There is a disconnect between now and the future, a bridge laden with broken boards and frayed ropes, one that stretches out over something dark and cold and steep. Stiles leans over the edge again and again, each aborted text a hand upon the bridges shaky sides, but as the chasm gapes out in front of him the gaps between each step seem wider and wider. </p><p>Stiles doesn’t know what he’s supposed to be mourning, now. Things were clearer when he was younger, but there are unreadable emotions which manifest themselves in ways he must second guess, interpret as if they are not his to own. To feel.  It makes his hands curl into tight fists, symbols of anger, if it were not for the nails that gorge small pools of blood into wrinkled life lines, cutting them short in mocking imitations of an action he cannot bring himself to. </p><p>He fears existing. Fears going downstairs and greeting his dad, making food, eating food, sleeping, doing work, having friends and responsibilities – leaving behind questions, responsibilities, promises. Concreting where he is now, though that is all the he can think to do.</p><p>So, he gets out of bed. The wardrobe is closed, still mockingly clean, and the clothes lined up inside appear alien. Bright shirts with comic book print, hoodies sporting Hoard symbols and crumpled formal wear; Stiles cannot imagine buying another comic, logging onto WoW or some other game and making up excuses of where he’s been, raiding with his guild and laughing over TeamSpeak. They wouldn’t have to know the truth.  It would be easy.</p><p>It all seems trivial in the face of the sheer amount of everything that has happened since he last sat down and did something he enjoyed. Something fun to pass the time. He can’t bring himself to care if his guild might have kicked him for inactivity when he’s died, murdered and almost killed himself in the time inbetween. It doesn’t matter he hasn’t caught up with any comics for months, he can’t bring himself to feel excited the book he’s been waiting on for three years has finally come back and it just fills him with an empty, grappling despair to consider going to the cinema alone to see the new Marvel movie.</p><p>Stiles finds he just wants to lie down. Just for a moment - but there never seems to be one long enough.</p><p>All it means it that he’s tired. All the time. Too tired to overthink wardrobe choices. He sighs to himself, and tangles his hand into the hanger of a blessedly plain t-shirt. Automatically, he pulls it on over and blindly grabs at a pair of trousers. They’re an off-grey while the polo is black, and where both were once well fitting they hang hauntingly from his body. He tries not to look in the mirror as he lifts a plaid t-shirt from over the cupboard doors top, ignores the flash of bone white arms and straining tendons as he slides his arms into the garment. It reaches mid-thigh, loose, and he wonders blithely where all of him went.</p><p>When he’s coming back.</p><p>His dad isn’t home, and Stiles moves slowly, joints pushing against water rather than air.  His bones are condensed matter, impossible to shift and digging into his internal organs, puncturing his lungs and filling them with coppery blood as he tries to breathe, ravaging his muscles and scraping at the inside of pale epidermis. He stops at the bottom of the stairs, and he’s not out of breath but he’s horribly worn out in a way that can’t be fixed by sleep or rest. When he tries to recall the journey down the stairs, his mind comes up with nothing and he pushes away the sickening dread as he reaches for the door.</p><p>Just tired. Just tired. Just tired. Just -</p><p>Derek is standing at his doorstep, hand extended. The Alpha looks just as surprised to see Stiles as Stiles as to see him, despite intuition informing him that Derek should have been able to at least hear him approach. He’s dressed as usual - jeans, a shirt that doesn’t seem to quite fit right and the same leather jacket as always. If he looked closer, which he doesn’t, he would notice the wrinkles in the shirt, the tail end of the belt hanging just short of a loop and what appears to be a receipt trapped in the zipper of one of the jackets many pockets. Indicators of tiredness, disorganization.</p><p>He does not look.</p><p>Stiles eyes flick back up to Derek’s face, and his hand falls from the space where the door once was. Derek’s own eyes are still discretely not at Stiles’s eye level, and if Stiles weren’t so utterly disconnected from the whole situation he might have been embarrassed. Or surprised. He’s vaguely aware he should say something stupid like a joke or a one-liner to greet Derek, scold him for being a creeper or over dramatize being shocked by Derek’s appearance; but he’s still floating like he’s in his own little self contained world where everything hurts and external stimulus is nothing but a passing current.</p><p>“I came to see-” Derek breaks off, pauses, “Check on you. Deaton said he hadn’t heard back…” More silence. There wasn’t a question, so there isn’t an answer. It all seems to take more effort than it should.<br /></p><p>“Stiles?” His eyes refocus on a concerned looking Derek, reading worry in slight lines and down turned lips, “Where were you going just now?”<br /></p><p>He stares back.</p><p>Where was he going?</p><p>“… Out.” His voice cracks over the word, accumulated dust in his throat breaking up and choking his words. He coughs once. Twice. Razor blades slide up the ridges of his throat, and tears that are not emotion prickle at his eyes. He was going out, and he can’t remember why, but he needed to leave. He pictures himself, sitting on that bed, the one he lies in so often - he’s sitting there, and he waves at a camera in the corner. Someone is laughing, laughing, it’s far away and it isn’t him. </p><p>“I could - give you a lift?” The offer is unusually timid, and Derek is fidgeting with his key in one hand, but his face determinedly still face Stiles, his eyes meeting his when he raises them. It’s <br /></p><p>“I-”<br /></p><p>“Let’s go eat somewhere.” Derek interrupts him, doesn’t touch him, but the ghost of a warm hand presses against his arm. It would usually be there, urging him, but now Derek just turns around and starts towards his car. It feels like a loss, a cold current, but Stiles finds he is relieved. As if physical contact is another hurdle to be scaled. <br /></p><p>He follows, because he was going to go out, and his dad has the keys to his jeep and his bike has long since rusted into the backporch. He wasn’t going anywhere, not really, and that may have been the point.</p><p>On his own, he cannot make progress. </p><p>Stiles sits down on the spongy car seat, feeling the cool leather where his hand brush against it to adjust his seatbelt. He stares down at his legs, fabric falling to the sides of their outline to reveal the true proportions of his legs. It’s sickly, haunting, and his skeletal hands stretch out on and on in bumpy bones and marked skin. He pulls down the sleeves of his shirt, covers his hands, and it’s here he remembers he has done nothing to disguise his wings. </p><p>They lurk behind him, unbound and weighty, pressing into the material of the car seat. He presses the hands he cannot bear to witness to his face, feels feathers shift against skin, and breathes in so deep the air scorches his lungs. There’s a shift deep in his chest; the arrangement of something vital, no unraveling, no biting realizations. There’s less room for his lungs to expand, and his mind fills with solutions, problems. </p><p>He could leave the car, go inside (oh god, he forgot to lock the door) and put on his binder, then come back out. He doesn’t want to talk to Derek, explain this, and what if he follows him and catches him undressing? Sees his wings? What if he’s forgotten and Stiles leaving, turning his back to him, will remind him? And if he does put on his binder, his wings could get bad again. Black liquid could cause his clothes to stick to him. If he stays - </p><p>Someone is counting down from ten softly, slowly, but firmly. </p><p>This time, it doesn’t take as long to emerge from the panic attack. This time, there is no warm, heavy weight to remind him of his physicality; only the slight cold of the cars AC and the methodical count down from ten. His cheeks are flushed, and as the hammer stops knocking on his heart a creeping sense of reality drags itself up his spine in cold, laboring sweat.</p><p>“Better?” Derek asks, softly.<br /></p><p>If there wasn’t a low, harsh buzz right behind his eardrums, Stiles might wonder how Derek could sound so sweet. </p><p>He nods, instead, and the bees in his brain shake around a little. He takes a deep breath, fixes his eyes on the buttons on the dashboard and lazily tracks the endless text on the radio screen. 07 CHEERS DARLIN - DAMIEN RICE 07 CHEERS DARLIN - DAMIEN RICE 07 CHEERS DARLIN -</p><p>Derek places his keys in the emission, Stiles clicks in his seatbelt, the music begins to play and Stiles can’t hear himself think. </p><p>++++++++++++++++</p><p>On the outskirts of town, there’s a diner Stiles can’t remember the name of. It’s connected to a petrol station, and the decoration isn’t charmingly old fashioned nor does the server have an inexplicable sweet southern slang like all waitresses at petrol stations do in the movies, regardless of origin state. He’s a teenager with acne and looks unbelievably nervous to be taking their order - it’s intrusive, note worthy. If Stiles had come here any other time in his life with any other person, they’d be joking about how the menu side sign is broken and only spells ‘me’, or about the cheap art on the walls of strange, feathered homunculi.</p><p>But he’s here, and it’s now.</p><p>The gnarled face of one of the creatures fixes him with a long dead glare from where it hangs on the wall across from him. It’s painted in greens and blacks, is pictured curled into itself in a twisted imitation of a leap with its mutated wing-like limbs almost dripping their dark feathers down in front of unsheathed claws, copper shades suggestively reflecting off the surface. A phantom prickle skims down his covered spine, the heavy weight of a secret pressing down on his expanding ribs as he watches the caricature of himself lie still in the frame.</p><p>Derek slides into the other side of the booth, cutting off the monsters glare.</p><p>“Cold?” He asks, pushing the salt and pepper pots to the side of the booth. They squeak across the plastic surface, and the coffee menu propped up against them drops on its side. A smiling pack of fries grins manically at him from its fallen position, announcing a recent price reduction in a spritzy font.<br /></p><p>He tears his gaze away, looks down, and says - “No.” Stiles feels like he’s been here a hundred times before in books and films, has been sat here at this booth everyday of his life waiting for the side character, the love interest, the bestfriend to say something that will make it all better. Something people can doddle on their pencil cases and write in their blog titles, a quotable phrase that summarizes what he’s feeling and simultaneously insinuates an opportunity to move forward, to progress. </p><p>But it’s not a film, as detached as he feels, and he doesn’t owe Derek an explanation for a single thing. The moment slides on, a truck parks outside and a deep voice calls something out in the kitchen. </p><p>By the time their food arrives Stiles can’t clearly recall anything since they arrived. Derek has a wrinkle between his eyes but Stiles doesn’t say anything, watches the cheese cool over his curly fries and drip down onto the container. There is quietness between them as neither of them eat, food acting as barrier of causality before them. Stiles wants to go home, craves the silent non-judgement of his bed sheets.</p><p>“Stiles, I… “ He’s floaty, in his placement - and is it just him, or is the cook looking at him from the kitchen? Whispering? Does he know? </p><p>“… said they should be better. But, are you?”</p><p>He flexes his hands and stares down at his order again.</p><p>“The w- … they’re better. They don’t, uh,” pause, breathe, “They don’t fall out anymore.” He glances over to the counter. The chef is gone. His skin crawls.<br /></p><p>That’s - that’s not exactly what Derek asked. And both of them know it. Derek finally bites into his burger, and Stiles tries to focus on the sound of the lettuce crunching between his teeth, and not pay attention to how his heart is horribly weighted in every pounding beat against his chest. He fights the urge to turn around, to look again. The werewolf opposite him fixes him with dark eyes.</p><p>“They miss you, you should know that.” <br /></p><p>Stiles open his mouth, and nothing comes out. Instead he blinks heavily, shivering inexplicably as a strange heat climbs and spreads across his pale forearms. He doesn’t know why he’s here, why he silently agreed to come out - not when he hasn’t in a week, not when he can barely stomach soup let alone curly fries. His wings are unbound, his vision is blurry and he hears a gasp he belatedly might be his own.</p><p><i>wake up wake up wake UP </i>-</p><p>++++</p><p>“Does this happen a lot?” Cars pass by the open carpark, segments of music drifting from their ajar windows in a strange, disjointed harmony that crashes against Stiles’s ears like the cold air on his tear stricken face. He doesn’t always cry when this happens; at least, he thinks so.<br /></p><p>“Yeah - it,” he coughs, throat blessedly wet for once but plagued by mucous, “I mean - just, uh. Yeah.” Not so much anymore. It’s not a cloying fear of death these days, it’s passed from the certainty of rotting into the ground to the paranoia of what the unknown could bring. <br /></p><p>Stepping off that crickety bridge, believing (wishing) there to be a stone one beneath you.6</p><p>“We made a mistake,” Derek is leaning full bodily on the open car door on Stiles’s side, looking out at the traffic like the tragic love story he is, “Leaving you as long as we did. We knew something was up, but Scott -” he pauses, left foot swinging back and forth where it props against his right calf, “… He’ll tell you that. It’s - you smelled like, like after the fire. All that sadness and,” <br /></p><p>Stiles doesn’t know what to do with his legs as Derek suddenly shifts downwards onto the balls of his feet, resting his warm palms on the knobbly angles of the younger boys knees. </p><p>“I’m sorry, Stiles. I know sorry will never make it right. I know saying it doesn’t change what happened, doesn’t change that we weren’t there. But you deserve to hear it.” He takes a deep breath, like he’d had it all rehearsed in his head, and leans his forehead against where his hands lay. <br /></p><p>In this position, his neck is unmistakably vulnerable.</p><p>His hot breath fans out against his leg, distinct despite the material barrier, and Stiles watches the neon lights reflect in the dark shine of the hair below him. The moment feels charged, meaningful in ways that escape him still. </p><p>“How many times did you repeat that in the mirror this morning?”<br /></p><p>Derek’s head shoots up, mildly disbelieving in yet another emotional show he never thought he was capable of, and Stiles cracks a grin he doesn’t quite mean.</p><p>Not yet.</p><p>++++++++++++++++++++++++++</p><p>The drive back is comforting. The seat is warm beneath his thighs, the darkness outside pressed against the windows like the fur of a giant black beast, an illusion of privacy fracturing only at its furthest edges where headlights skim across slight cat eyes and over reaching trees. That harsh freshness from the roadside stays with him as he leans against the side of the car door, head resting on a crooked arm - in this snapshot, this pause, he holds himself still and drinks in his sense. Saves this memory.</p><p><i>i must fight this sickness</i></p><p><i>find a cure</i></p><p><i>i must fight this sickness</i></p><p><i><br /></i></p><p>+===========================</p><p>For this recipe, he doesn’t need a book. Most of the ingredients are frozen - they never keep anything in the fridge anymore, John always eats out and Stiles never eats - and he makes quick work of the preparation, only making the white sauce from scratch. This isn’t therapeutic. He hasn’t got the time.</p><p>His hands still ache from the cold night as he slips the deep set tray into the oven. It’s miles away, that car park. It’s miles away and it’s so fresh, so distant. A wake up call. A lullaby.</p><p>Stiles goes upstairs, and he changes his shirt, the mirror covered by a bed sheet haphazardly ripped from the mattress. A black stain distorts across the material. It’s these bits of himself, the things he leaves behind, dry skin and diseased blood, salty tears and bitten nails. Shards of himself torn away, discarded, and their presence is more tolerable than a peaked reflection watching him. Someone who should be him. Someone who doesn’t always feel that way.</p><p>A timer beeps downstairs, a car pulls up outside. </p><p>He doesn’t pull the sheet from the mirror, stares at the black stain that seems to spread across his vision and unconsciously touches at the angle of his wings, abrupt like a broken bone. </p><p>These are parts of him, also. Parts of his mother - parts that are not yet lost, and parts that can still be revived.</p><p>He starts with his father.</p><p>++++<br /><br /></p><p>They sit down at the table in Stiles’s nightmare. In his mothers space is nothing but air. Stiles splits the lasagna into six careful servings, feeling every second tic by in the blinks of his fathers eyes, visible in his periphery. He lays the slices onto chipped ceramic plates, tacky blue pattern blooming across like burst veins. Claudia would have produced an array of vegetable dishes to compliment the heavy meal. </p><p>Stiles stares at the singular square on his plate. He used to do better than this.</p><p> He shifts his cutlery, wincing at the sharp reverberation. Slowly, trying to keep the metal from grinding against the plate, he cuts the edge off and pulls it away. In his head, he had created the perfect meal - his mothers to the dot, a testament to something inside himself that whispered to him that he is <i>nothing </i>like his mother. That everything she was died with her. </p><p>But, he’s here because he’s not in his head. Not anymore.</p><p>“Son,”<br /></p><p>“I-”</p><p>They both halt, interrupting each other. Stiles skins prickles again with warmth in the silence, he has to -</p><p>“What the hell is going on, Stiles? I knew it was hard after, after -” He breathes out, “After Allison, but I thought things would get better. But nightmares? Never leaving the house? Where’s Scott, Lydia?” He runs his hand through his hair, had reaching for a bottle that isn’t there, “I have been worried sick, thinking you would sort through this on your own, but it’s like stepping on egg shells. You never talk, you’re losing weight, avoiding -”</p><p>“Dad, dad!” Stiles cuts through, more force than he thought he had left in his body entering his voice, “Dad it’s okay. Please, please just. Eat. I’ll… I’ll explain.” Under the table, his thighs are shaking and he feels in his diaphragm an urge to flee, to end this situation here and watch everything waste away from the safety of his room. He grips his knife and fork tightly. <br /></p><p>Dad doesn’t eat.</p><p>“The Nogitsune, uh, he- it - left something in my…” Stiles gulps, forcing himself to continue “My wings. They were rotting, and for a long time I thought it mean that, you know, it meant I was gunna die.” He stares hard at the plate, watching his dads miniature movements in front of him.</p><p>“And I think that I was okay with that.” He doesn’t let the pause continue, “I thought Allison’s death was my fault. And everyone couldn’t - didn’t - I don’t know… things weren’t the same. I thought it would be better I just…” tears collected at the edges of his eyes and the tremble of his lips made its self known in his voice, straining and warping it. “Just wasn’t. It seems like an over-reaction I know but -”</p><p>“<i>Stiles</i>,”</p><p>“But - it’s okay now. I mean, it’s not okay but I talked to Deaton - he was mum’s friend, you know? - and, and he knew and gave me this medicine and they started to clean up but I still…” his voice breaks, cracking in his dry throat and withering away.<br /></p><p>John comes run round the side of the table in an instant, grasping Stiles’ shoulder tightly, “Son,” Stiles tears up further at the word, can’t quite see through the watery blur but too unsure if he has permission to touch back to act. Social nuances seem so utterly overwhelming to read, he doesn’t know what this means, what is trying to be said. It is quickly cleared for him as is he pulled up into an embrace, comforting and desperate all at once, the sheriff murmuring into his shoulder small comforts, how if he had known he would have helped, how it wasn’t his fault, there’s nothing wrong with him; things he hadn’t heard from another for months and months.</p><p>Hours later, or maybe minutes, when they sit down to eat dinner, the cold lasagna doesn’t turn to a sandy ash in his mouth.</p><p><br /></p><p>++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++</p><p>None of this is a world-changing shift.</p><p>The next morning, John is at work and Stiles can’t get out of bed. His gaze bores into the ceiling, and he is so very tired of watching it. Waiting. His eyes feel as if they are about to disconnect from his skull to escape the tiredness, to leave behind the bloody imprints of his vision. He knows he has to get up, clean his wings and change his bed and - and nothing else. But he has to clean his wings, or they won’t get better.</p><p><i>So what?</i></p><p>Stiles rubs at his forehead with the side of his hand, the skin rough and dry against his face. A hopeless breed of frustration is rooted deeply at the back of his mind, sinking his skull deeper into his pillow; this moment felt alike to an eternity compared to yesterday. The phoenixes, the blooming stems rising from his half-existence had faltered, shriveled back from whence they had come, sheltered beneath inactivity and a deep lethargy. Safe. </p><p>Whatever energy had filled him, cleared the fuzziness from his head was now nothing more than a daydream. He couldn’t comprehend hosting such wakefulness, motivation when he was once again weighed down to his bed, ready to fade out into yet another day underlined by the dazing buzz of nothing. </p><p>At his bed side, his phone beeps. It was supposed to run out of charge days ago.</p><p>He doesn’t reach for it. </p><p>+++++++++++++++</p><p>“Hey son,” <br /></p><p>John sits at the edge of his bed. He has takeaway - a milkshake and curly fries - as an extension of goodwill. Or as a hopeful attempt at lifting Stiles’ mood. He talks normally, going over his day while taking off his boots, and Stiles hates himself for unable to smile back, engage. He glassily takes in the small details, the irrelevant details - coffee stains on a t-shirt, mud on boots and the receipt sticking from his shirt pocket that tells Stiles of a burger downstairs (he wants to joke with his dad, wants to tell him off for eating red meat when he knows it’s not good for him; but it’s been so long. Too long. Stiles has lost his right to comment on that the moment he disconnected from reality. The moment he endangered everyone. It’s not his line to say. He’s been off script for a while now. ). </p><p>“…that it could help, kid. Only if you want to. It would help me sleep a lot easier, but I don’t think that’s the problem, hmm?” <br /></p><p>He phases back in, sensitive to the question hanging in the air. Once again, he finds his eyes have come to rest gazing at his hands.</p><p>He can’t stop checking.</p><p>“Sorry? I…uh.” John’s face breaks out into a gentle smile, wrinkles slotting into place around his features. He drops his shoes to the bedroom floor, the fall soft on the carpet, and lays a warm hand onto the stark cold of Stiles’ arm.<br /></p><p>“A therapist, councilor - anyone for you to talk to. Hell, may even be some supernatural ones around. We’ll find them if we need them. I just want - need - you to be okay,” The grip on his arm doesn’t change at all, neutral, careful, measured.<i> Stepping on eggs</i>. Stiles wonders what it looks like to other people. What <i>he</i> looks like to other people.<br /></p><p>Sad? Sick? Attention seeking? His chest tinges a little at the thought, something small and bitter curling up close to his arteries. He was always desperate for attention, as a kid; that Stilinksi who broke the crayons, threw a fit in class, kept pinning his pictures up on the teachers board and the kid who shouted ‘look at me, look at me!’ in the playground. Look at me has to be a little more subtle, when you get older, look at me has to be loud jokes and getting into trouble. Sneaking out and laughing hard, desperately clinging onto the people around you in the most non-invasive way possible. If you’re fun to be around, people won’t leave, right?</p><p>Until you murder someone close to them.</p><p>His phones burns with significance at his bed side table, and a deep hollowness echoes at the hole in his chest with the mere thought of picking it up.</p><p>“Yeah, yeah… sure.”<br /></p><p>He’s so tired.</p><p>+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++</p><p>Orbs clump together on the window pane, transparent and horribly miserably, devoid of any colour but a deafening storm grey framing them from the sky above. Droplets tap heavily and persistently against the roof and window sill, only hitting the window when gushes of cold wind direct them so. From his computer desk, Stiles watches the scene blankly as his hands hovers over his charging phone, USB wire trailing perilously close to his feet.</p><p>He’s seen this moment too. In movies. </p><p>Along his bare back his wings lie, heavy with water and slimy along his the receding ridges of his spine. Sticky and suffocating, the remains of his infected being leak from the follicles of his feathers, seeping plasma and red red red as tiny, healthy pieces of him are torn away with it to run down around his toes in the shower. Infected and bedraggled feathers malt and clog the drain each time, and he gets to his reddened knees, water running cold, and scoops up these precious corpses to saviour away. </p><p>Bleed out the infection. Bleed out what’s left.</p><p>Stiles can look at himself in the mirror, and count to three, and smile. He can murmur jokes to himself as he strips his bed clean, he can imagine responses to conversations he cannot fathom even beginning. But there’s suddenly nothing left - he doesn’t know what filled this space before the Nogitsune ripped it into existence, but it’s long gone and it’s remaining traces, if any, are far too subtle to pick up on. <br /></p><p>Who is he without this? </p><p>Pale fingers clench down on his phone, and he drags his gaze from the spiralling train of thought in his head to the glowing lock screen of his phone. 1:23pm. 1 missed call(s). SCOTT: Text message. DEREK: Text Message (2). <br /></p><p>Derek’s texts date from a few days ago, and Stiles cautiously swipes over them and types in his passcode. The messenger interface instantly springs up, a few lines of grey popping up on the right hand side.</p><p>YOU NEED TO GET OUT MORE</p><p>SCOTT WANTS TO TALK WITH YOU</p><p>Stiles’ brow scrunches up at the text, something deep settling down on his diaphragm. He tries not to consider the words too deeply and brings up Scott’s chat, pushing back the mounting emotional response to get away from the little lit up screen and cling to his bed sheets.</p><p>CAN I COME OVER?</p><p>He looks up at his computer display, eyes tracing over the words of an article on anti-wing campaigns rising in the west of the state. Business’s owned by wing folk being boycotted by locals, protests outside places of law and the growing pressure on officials to acknowledge “those abominations” as sub-human beings; genetically differential enough for human law and morality to exempt them.</p><p>Him.</p><p>SURE</p><p>+++++++++++++++++++++++++++</p><p>Siting here now, Stiles realises that in little bits and pieces he had been forgetting Scott. Foremost, he cannot recall what that crooked smile felt like when directed at him, how that warm laugh felt directed at you and only you, how comforting each small, frequent touch was in conversation, in passing, even in absence. He had been letting these details go, freeing them, making it hurt less to consider the perceived betrayal. </p><p>And it aches all over again, now.</p><p>Because Scott looks well. He doesn’t look like a Scott that has been fretting over anything, he doesn’t look overly tired or ill he even worn down. He looks healthy, happy - regretful, but determined. Stiles curls around that little rotting core of his, shelters the jealousy, the bitterness so close it couldn’t possibly escape.</p><p> People can move on, recover, accept. Except him.</p><p>“I’m glad you let me come,<br /></p><p>“I didn’t deserve to have this chance and I know - well, I think, it might have been hard for you to see me. And that’s understandable, it’s fine, I would get that.” Scott isn’t looking at him anymore, “A lot happened that we should have talked about, and at the time I wasn’t in a place where I felt I could do that. I was angry, I lost Allison… I blamed you - but I shouldn’t have, because you didn’t do it. But I did blame you then. I don’t anymore and I should have been able to see it back then that you weren’t in control, and how I felt is no excuse to how I acted. I know one apology can’t make that up to you – but I have never regretted anything more than I,” he rubs at his eyes, tears reflecting the warm orange of a nearby light.<br /></p><p>“Than I regret leaving you like that. I regret every single second I treated you as anything less than my bestfriend. You were never the nogistune. You were always Stiles and that never changed. I should have been there with you, I should have been able to support you. We could have supported each other. I still see you as my bestfriend, and I know that you might see me the same and I can understand that because in your position - after what I did, what I was still doing till now - I wouldn’t have even wanted to see me. And - And you’ve always meant to so much to me. I just need you to know that I was wrong to think what I thought, and that you owe me nothing and can kick me out of this house right now if you need to,” He smiles shakily, falteringly, and looks up to meet Stiles’s eyes.<br /></p><p>“But I want to make things right. If you’ll let me.”<br /></p><p>There’s an immediate mixing of emotions in the silence that pass that is difficult for Stiles to compact solely into one expression. Scott is wrong - Scott is wrong because it was Stiles’s fault, he did kill Allison and it’s not right that he apologizes for thinking that because Stiles needs to be held accountable. And - and it’s not right. None of it is. But a small portion of his mind is wonderfully satisfied that Scott acknowledged what he did, wants to kick Scott, never forgive him - when there is nothing to forgive. Not really.</p><p>“If you need to think I can go -”<br /></p><p>“No,” his voice sounds dry even to him. “No, stay - I,” he shakes his head, grips his hair with his hands. Everything had made perfect sense until now.<br /></p><p>“You don’t…you don’t think it’s my fault that Allison…” he can’t finish the sentence, can’t work his tongue over that heavy word. Allison died. Allison was murdered.</p><p>Scott looks mildly horrified “God, no. Of course not - you weren’t even in the same body as it, and even when you were that wasn’t you doing any of that. I - if anyone said otherwise it’s not true. I was an idiot. We were all idiots for the way we treated you. Allison was your friend too, we should have…” he lapses back into silence, eyes roaming far away. There was so much they should have done, Stiles thinks bitterly. The thought is strangely distant from his own beliefs. </p><p>“You deserved better,”<br /></p><p>Stiles almost laughs.</p><p>“I really, really don’t. I got exactly what I deserved. Well - not exactly,” He smiles grimly. He doesn’t try to wonder after where that thought had come from. What drove him to say it.<br /></p><p>“You don’t mean that. God - Derek was right,” he puts his hand to the back of his neck, a familiar gesture of self comfort. Scott sighs deeply.<br /></p><p>“We made a mistake, leaving you alone as long as we did.”<br /></p><p>Stiles twitched at the repetition.</p><p>“But I want to fix that. What do you - I mean, you haven’t said much. Is this okay, Stiles?”<br /></p><p>“I don’t know, Scott,” The name feels out of place on his tongue, “I think it’s my fault. I don’t want… I don’t know, fuck.” The cloudiness is painful, he realises, it is this way because he can’t put things together. Make a clear picture. <br /></p><p>“I’ll leave, if you want. I don’t want to… I don’t want to hurt you anymore, Stiles.”<br /></p><p>He hides his face in his hands, smells copper under his nails and listens to the front door close softly.</p><p>++++++++++++++</p><p>++++++++++++++</p><p>He thinks, the next few days, he thinks and he stares.</p><p>Sometimes he has the energy to get up, and sometimes he doesn’t, and in between those two states he drifts into a strange lack of consciousness. Here he plays out the neat little apology Scott has delivered to him - </p><p><i>You were never the nogitsune</i></p><p><i>We could have supported each other</i></p><p><i>We made a mistake, leaving you alone as long as we did</i></p><p>Spoken mechanically, an apology rehearsed again and again, checked over and replaced and rewritten. It tastes too <i>plastic</i>, but it’s not necessarily a bad thing. He cared enough to script it, to lick at his teeth and squint at his word choice, to go over continuously an apology that could have well been an attempt at alleviating a guilty conscience. Something insincere. Something to excuse, not regret.</p><p>It’s confusing how he feels, it’s -</p><p>A lot of nothing. Sentiments borrowed from others. His father is happy Scott apologized, angry it took that long, resistant to the idea of Stiles forgiving him. <i>Friends don’t do that</i>. Stiles thinks that he should feel relief that Scott has forgiven him, that he should grasp this apology and leech his friends kindness til he’s finally full again. Saturated. Real.</p><p>He thinks, too, that he is allowed to be bitter.  That it isn’t selfishness that makes his throat go dry and eyes crinkle when he has to cradle in his hands the fact that all this time, <i>all this time</i> he spent curled up in bed, crying and starving and numb, feeling intensely and shortly at times inconvenient to him, Scott was holding out on him. Stringing his pain along, drawing it out like he believed Stiles really did deserve it under all those pretty, perfect words. </p><p>At the moments when he is out of bed, on the back porch or standing in the kitchen, avoiding and the fridge and the table and the dishes, he can connect the dots between these. He can feel mixed, there is no right answer, no wrong response, and he’s allowed both. All. He can be bitter, he can be guilty, he can feel worthless and undeserving and angry and betrayed. The existence of one does not cancel out the other, and he hates that it can be so obvious in one second, cloudy and comprehensible in the next.</p><p>Scott said, “You deserved better.” and looking out at the sky, he can believe that. He can also believe that holding himself to any value makes him a bad person, makes him greedy, arrogant. That, after all that has happened and all he has done, there is very little that could be better. He deserved worse. But he knows, somewhere very deep and shadowed, that if Scott truly believed it wasn’t his fault, then, in his eyes, he has done Stiles wrong.</p><p>It’s a compromise. </p><p>It would be easier, if he could die. </p><p>He texts Scott, asks him;</p><p><b>> DID YOU MEAN IT?</b></p><p><b>YOU’VE ALWAYS BEEN IMPORTANT TO ME</b></p><p><b>I’M SORRY I EVER MADE YOU DOUBT THAT</b></p><p>+++++++++++++++</p><p>Fluoxetine, 20mg. </p><p>Prescribed before therapy was even suggested. The next time he unwraps himself from his covers to the soft voice of his dad, on the right side of noon and time enough for a separate breakfast and lunch, even, he types it in on google. Buries himself under walls of text, </p><p>He rubs his forehead with a dry hand, feeling vaguely frustrated. He was supposed to feel better, making things better with his dad. Having emotions, confiding, giving himself some support, thought he felt he didn’t entirely deserve or need it. The notions were something that felt automatic, selfish. And he didn’t feel better, different; the fresh hope from last night has dissipated with the moon. </p><p>Everything feels like square one again. Why get better? Why treat his wings? Why try and make things okay between him and his dad, Derek and others when he doesn’t have the motivation to act on anything they say? Instigating, engaging… all signs he’s trying. But he’s not. </p><p>He holds the side effects in his hands. Thin paper, folded too many times to slot in next to two foil trays. He started feeling sick, can’t eat if he wanted to - and that’s normal. It says right there, under common symptoms. He trails a finger down the more extreme, hesitates over brain bleeds and muscle seizures, narrows in on the point between them.</p><p><i>Suicidal thoughts.</i></p><p>Stiles doesn’t think he has the energy to carry anything elaborate out. He’s vaguely disappointed when google informs him he cannot, in fact, overdose on SSRIs. That might have been nice, slow, sleepy. Or maybe painful.</p><p>The screen is still open when his dad pushes open the door, plate in hand, cup in the other. He doesn’t see it straight away, sets them down on the desk, asks how Stiles is feeling, says he’s glad to see him out of bed. </p><p>(<i>Stiles, why are you looking at that?</i></p><p><i>You can’t </i>-)</p><p>Derek is sitting at his kitchen table.</p><p>He lost time, or maybe he didn’t. His head hurts, and he remembers his fathers hands on his shoulder, a shaking from somewhere outside of himself. Cologne, a cupboard locking. Wanting to cry but being too wrung out to do so, trying to explain something no parent should have to hear -</p><p>“She helped me, after Kate. A normal person…” he hesitates, “You’d have to lie a lot. That’s not what it’s about.”<br /></p><p>Stiles stares dully at his hands.</p><p>“It’s - hard. People will say that a lot. They don’t understand, they-” His voice breaks. Stiles tucks that away somewhere, pushes back empathy that edges at his eyes; it’s different. <br /></p><p>“… She helped me. When your dad called I thought -,” A sharp intake of breath, Derek doesn’t have any fidgets, any tells. He doesn’t make eye contact, “She can help you, too. Maybe. I gave her card to your dad. I’d like… I want you to go -”</p><p>“It’s okay, Derek. You don’t have to,”</p><p><i>1, 2, 3, 4-</i></p><p>“Stiles-”</p><p>“Don’t,” he requests, softly. He doesn’t want to hear more. Can’t fit it all together, right now, slot it into a timeline of events. </p><p>“I feel like I have too.” It’s painful. His headache spikes, and he thinks of his bed sheets - unmade, as they have been for months. Thinks of pixels forming into words, a buzzing anxiety that peaks at the thought of his father, his hands - on his shoulder, against his arm, holding. Careful. His breathe, and;</p><p><i>I can’t lose you, too.</i></p>

He rubs his forehead with a dry hand, feeling vaguely frustrated. He was supposed to feel better, making things better with his dad. Having emotions, confiding, giving himself some support, thought he felt he didn’t entirely deserve or need it. The notions were something that felt automatic, selfish. And he didn’t feel better, different; the fresh hope from last night has dissipated with the moon. 

Everything feels like square one again. Why get better? Why treat his wings? Why try and make things okay between him and his dad, Derek and others when he doesn’t have the motivation to act on anything they say? Instigating, engaging… all signs he’s trying. But he’s not. 

+++

In between, anxiety worms its way beneath his skin, breaking out in cold sweats and goosebumps. 

makes dinner for him AND his dad. eats with him. lasagne doesnt rot in his moth. says wings are better - end “i have something to tell you” +is about werewolves+

—

scott knocks on door. talk - explains at the start he didnt want reminder from stiles, would rather forget how he felt about allison/everything with Kira and that it wasnt healthy. stiles says he doesnt forgive him yet, but can start by proving to his dad about werewolves.

—

have pack get together, is awkward and aware . lydia pulls himaside before and apolgies, says they’ll make up to him. isaac doesn’t trust him, but they did him wrong. stiles is still depressed, suddenly having a social life doesnt vastly improve it, reference to a prescription is made. 

(stiles starts to go uout. derek on his driveway. says he was going (…. somewhere). derek asks him to local restauarnt. stiles say no- doesn’t want to bump into anyone. derek takes him to a diner just out of town.)

(vivid detail at a diner - eating curly fries. too much vinegar. feels exposed with wings, sit into corner of booth. asks how wings are, why didnt want to eat anywhere in town. says pack misses him. 

[natural--trash]

Tag thing, wanted to do it for some time but now im at my comp and stuff so uh yeah anyways

Rules: once you’ve been tagged you’re supposed to write a post with eighty-two truths and then tag twenty-five people

I was tagged by @fluffyliontae

Name: tsu (just call me that, or susu or smth yknow)

Blood type: A-

Nickname(s): susu, mym

R/s: single

Zodiac Sign: libra

Pronouns: eh whatever, on some days its he > she > they but it can also be a diff order so yeah seriously whatever floats your boat

Favorite TV Shows: W - Two Worlds (same), a Persona 5 anime could be one of them but there’s none

Long or short hair: long

Height: 162cm or so

Do you have a crush on someone: romantic none, aesthetic ones? squishes? hoo boy

What do you like about yourself: my eyes, that cute scar on my hand

Right or left handed: right

List of three favorite colors: too many, i mostly like colour combos, but light blue, black and #540003 i guess

RIGHT NOW

Eating: nothing, i had brownie ritter sport a bit earlier tho

Drinking: water

I’m about to: draw

Listening to: Believer - Imagine Dragons

Kids: 0

Get married: nah

Career: I want money

MOST RECENT

Drink: water

Phone call: i think my uncle??

Song you listened to: before Believer there’s Bonfire on my spotify playlist but rn its Queen by History

HAVE YOU EVER

Dated someone twice: nah

Been cheated on: thats a long story

Kissed someone and regretted it: dont think so

Lost someone special: hmm

Been depressed: yeah

Been drunk and thrown up: never drunk alcohol

Kissed a stranger: nope

Had glasses or contacts: yeah

Had sex on the first date: nope

Broken someone’s heart: not that im aware of it

Turned someone down: kinda??

Cried when someone died: yeah

Fallen for a friend: im aro, that doesnt work

IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU

Made a new friend: yes

Fallen out of love: no

Laughed until you cried: yes

Met someone who changed you: mhhh dont think so?

Found out who your true friends were: kinda (I’m sorry that I’m always answering like this omg)

Found out someone was talking about you: cant remember

Kissed someone on your fb list: i dont use fb

WHICH IS BETTER

Lips or eyes: eyes

Hugs or kisses: hugs

Shorter or taller: taller

Romantic or spontaneous: platonic

Sensitive or loud: sensitive

Hookup or relationship: friendship

Troublemaker or hesitant: hesitant

FIRST

Best friend: have conatct with both or them but we’re not as close? although I still don’t mind lying/rolling around on his floor

Surgery: does removing my wisdom teeth count? (does it?)

Sport: swimming (I wish I hadn’t stopped)

Vacation: Turkey

DO YOU BELIEVE IN

Yourself: depends on the day (same)

Miracles: yeah

Love at first sight: i dont rly believe in romantic love, but other than that yeah has flashbacks to when x impulse bought a ps vita

Heaven: i want to

EXTRAS

How many people from your fb list do you know irl: i still dont use fb

Do you have any pets: i used to have a duck

Do you want to change your name: yeah kinda i’d prefer something gender neutral

What did you do for your last birthday: i played video games at home bc i have no friends

What time did you wake up today: idk, fell asleep again

What were you doing last night at midnight: internet

Something you can’t wait for: when i move out

Last time you saw your mom: some minutes ago

What is one thing you wish you could change about your life: how my brain is sometimes

Have you ever talked to a person named tom: yeah, had a classmate with that name

What’s getting on your nerves: loud noises in the morning, often ppl i dont consider as friends

instructions: You can tell a lot about a person by the type of music they listen to. Put your music on shuffle and list the first 10 songs, then tag 10 people. No skipping.

(should i do the whole thing?? ok lemme get my phone pls note that i havent gotten the p5 ost yet)

Obtained a Berry! - DP OST

actually there comes some more Nintendo OST

Awake -BTS

Young Forever (unplugged ver) - BTS

crow tit (jpn) - bts

Mein Block - Sido

We don’t talk anymore - Jungkook

a song i do not remember what it was

Faint - Linkin Park

La la La - naughty boy

i think its time to make a new playlist bc i dont listen to some pop songs anymore

so uh yeah the whole thing it is

5 things you’d find in my bag:

tissues, a shit ton

wallet

probably some paper

charger

phone

5 things you’d find in my bedroom:

desk

clothes

stuffed animals

bed

my computer

5 things i always wanted to do in life:

Travelmore

Get a job i love

Own a cat

Get a life I like

Have ppl I’m close with that are not far away

5 things i’m currently into:

video games

persona 5, fire emblem heroes (they deserve their own point)

kpop

art

ummm edgesthetic?

5 things on my to do list:

go to a BTS concert

get a part time job

learn Japanese and perhaps Korean and get better at French

visit all the countries I still want to go to

get better at drawing

5 things people may not know about me:

I would love to study video game development but I’m too scared of what’s after that plus there’s no way I’ll get accepted hahaha

i love min yoongi and his mixtape bc he idk he helped me think that maybe not everything in my life will be shitty later and that maybe I’ll be able to be happy one day

I’m currently in a more down phase

i have problems with my sense of reality

i have a cute scar on my hand

Top 10 BTS Songs Tag:

  House Of Cards (Full Length Edition)

  House Of Cards [OUTRO]

  Good Day

No order from here on

4. I NEED U (Japanese Ver.) 5. FOR YOU 6. 쩔어 (Dope) 7. 등골브레이커 (Spine breaker) 8. 24/7 = Heaven 9. Blood Sweat & Tears 10. Not Today

I have time

10 groups/artists you like besides Kpop/liked before Kpop:

nqrse ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

Fall Out Boy

Panic! at the Disco

DAOKO ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

Casper

Die Ärzte

I think that’s it

DAT ADAM

uhh I liked Abingdon Boys School at some point

idk the old Sido songs aint bad?

10 favorite non-kpop songs:

ダイスキ - DAOKO

BANG! - DAOKO

Das Grizzly Lied - Casper

パラサイト(Parasite) - nqrse feat.まふまふ,luz  

ECHO - まふまふ (mafumafu) feat.nqrse

p much any song sung by nqrse im sorry im trash hmu and ill link you some good stuff

Believer - Imagine Dragons

Bonfire - Felix Jaehn, ALMA

Die Vergessenen 1/2 - Casper

omg i totally forgot about OSTs Toberu Mono from The Last Stiry, too much from Persona 5 liek Beneath the Mask, Last Surprise etc

10 favorite movies:

i don’t watch enough :c

10 favorite tv shows, including anime & cartoons:

W - Two Worlds

Acchi Kocchi

Psycho Pass

I’m giving up

10 things you enjoyed before kpop/enjoy besides kpop, that won’t fit in the lists above:

music

art

video games

esp atlus n nintendo games!!

cute soft stuffed animals

flight rising

sarma

collecting cute key charms

collecting cute things in general

dancing

ten tag last movie you watched: i dont know

last song you listened to:  that one song mentioned above by Daoko

last show you watched: I Hear Your Voice

last book you read: Der Vorleser by Bernhard Schlink, don’t read it

last thing you ate: chocolate

if you could be anywhere in the world right now where would you be: Tokyo

when would you time travel to: itll be spontaneous

first thing you would do with lottery money: buy a loft

character you would hang out with for a day: P5 Protagonist

time right now: 23:52

the ‘or’ tag

build a snowman with v OR have a snowball fight with j-hope

get coffee with suga OR get ice cream with suga

go to the cinema with jimin OR the amusement park with jungkook

do a dance cover with j-hope OR sing a duet with jin

kiss rap monster OR cuddle suga

babysit with jimin OR dogsit with v

meet j-hope’s family OR have v meet your family

film a commercial with j-hope OR film a sketch with v

hug jimin OR hold hands with jungkook

go to paris with jin OR go to london with suga (sorry been to paris already)

film a drama with jin OR do a photo shoot with rap monster

attend an award show with rap monster OR wear couple t-shirts at the airport with jungkook

spend a lazy day with suga OR explore a city with j-hope

fall asleep next to jimin OR wake up next to jungkook

make up a silly rap with v OR a silly choreography with jin

have a fun picnic with j-hope OR a fancy date with jin

have jungkook serenade you OR have v sing you to sleep

have a dance party with j-hope OR sing karaoke with suga

go camping with jimin and v OR go to the beach with rap monster and suga

cook with jin AND bake a cake with jimin

have a sleepover with the hyung line OR a birthday party with the maknae line

celebrate halloween with jungkook, suga, v and j-hope OR christmas with rap monster, jimin and j-hope

rules: answer the questions with the first letter of your name, then tag 10 people. If the person who tagged you has the same initial, you must use different answers. you cannot use the same word twice.

What is your name? - Tsu

A four letter word? - text

A boy’s name? - Tom

An occupation? - tailor

Something you wear? - t-shirt

A color? - turquoise

A food? - tomato

Something you find in the bathroom? - toilet

A place? - Tokyo

A reason for being late? - traffic

Something you shout? - yells

A movie title? - something that starts with “the”

Something you drink? - tea

An animal? - turtle

A type of car? - tesla

Title of a song? - Tage wie diese - die toten hosen

I’m,,, maybe later @mama-kisu @metroid-fr (you can do the non kpop stuff) eh whoever wants i guess