#inspired by true events ! of me having a breakdown in the kitchen after breaking a hand painted pot 😬

[barry-j-blupjeans]

#45 Taakitz

45. “You’re hurt. Please just let me heal it.”

((fluff prompts here - still accepting!!))

--

Taako was... not having a great day. The whole "my sister, boyfriend, and brother-in-law are the grim reapers are constantly have to spend time away fighting crime" was fine, like super fine. Taako was good. He was fine with it. He was an introvert anyway, so it's not like having more people around was a good thing. But today, he had woken up at four AM to Kravitz pressing a kiss to his forehead and promising he'll be back by lunch.

Taako hadn't been able to get back to sleep. That's when the Bad Things started.

Getting up before the sun was always sort of shitty. In general, Taako liked to sleep in. In general, Taako liked to sleep, during the morning or not. Usually, if he got up earlier, he had something to do, but today, he just sort of padded around the house without any clear objective.

He fed the cats. One of them scratched his arm. He washed that up and bandaged it.

He tried to make breakfast. His toast burned. Taako almost threw the whole toaster away but decided that was a bad decision at the last second and put threw away the burnt toast.

A cat tried to eat said burnt toast from the garbage. Taako got scratched again fishing the cat out.

He ate cold ramen for breakfast because he changed his mind on eggs halfway through, put on some ramen, and then got distracted while pouring it into a bowl. When he returned to it, it was cold, and the flavor didn't stick well, but he couldn't bring himself to eat anything else.

His body hurt. Taako's body almost always hurt, but after breakfast, a steady ache had settled itself into his legs. It hurt to move. His cat- the same one that had climbed into the trash can, that fucking asshole, sat directly on his thighs and Taako almost- almost started crying in the middle of watching The Great Faerûnian Bake Off.

He needed to make lunch. Kravitz would probably appreciate some lunch, right? Except that Taako took four steps into the kitchen and his legs tried to give up on him and he caught the counter for support. Except it wasn't the counter, it was the blind for the window, which came crashing down. It hit Taako's aloe plant on the way down, shattering the pot all over the counter and the floor and Taako.

Taako beat the fucking apocalypse with nothing more than his idiot friend, a wand, and sheer fucking determination. But the shattered aloe pot and the pain and the cold ramen and the burnt toast and the cats were just too much today.

Taako leaned back against the counter, willing himself not to cry, but of course, that didn't work. Nothing ever goes right for Taako! First the shitty childhood and there the fucking yearly apocalypse and then all the Lucretia shit and then Glamour Spring and ughhghghhhh fuck. Okay, now he was crying. And when he started crying, he never knew how to stop, and he just wanted to make lunch but everything hurt and his cats were being so mean and fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck-

"Taako?" said a voice from the living room. Taako buried his head into his knees, sniffling. "I'm home, babe."

He tried to respond. He really did. But all his voice was capable of doing right now was making a choked-off noise. He heard a cat meow from the living room and Kravitz speaking to it lowly, though he couldn't hear what he said. Gods, Kravitz was perfect and Taako was so- so-

"Taako?" Kravitz called again. "Are we doing like a hide and seek thing or are you busy?"

Voice. Voice. He needed to use his voice. That'd be really helpful right about now. Still, nothing came out. He heard Kravitz's footsteps- and the footsteps of three cats following behind him- coming closer to the kitchen. The kitchen door stood ajar so Taako could see very clearly when Kravitz reached it.

"Taako," Kravitz said, rushing forward. Taako hugged his knees to his chest, trying not to break into complete tears again. "Babe, can I- hang on-"

Taako peaked up to see Kravitz scooping the cats into his arms- Angus Jr, who didn't like being held, squirmed and hissed. Kravitz opened a small portal to their bedroom and tossed the cats over, where they landed on the bed. He closed the portal before they could get back through, and then closed the kitchen door as well.

"I don't want them stepping on this," Kravitz said, making his way through the shattered plant pot. He cleared out a space next to Taako and knelt down, which just made Taako start sobbing all over again. "Can I... is it okay if I touch you?"

Taako nodded, drawing in a shuttering breath. Kravitz's hand landed on his arm, so much cooler than he was. He tried to get his breathing back under control but it was just resulting in him taking sharp, uneven breaths.

"Here," Kravitz said. Using his other hand, he fished his pocket watch out of his suit. "Deep breath for four seconds, hold for seven, breath out for eight. Starting when it gets to the five, yeah?"

Taako wiped his tears away with his sleeve, watching as the watch got closer to five. When it did, both he and Kravitz took a deep breath in. Then, he held it for seven seconds and started breathing out for eight. Taako's was a lot shakier than Kravitz's, but he didn't comment on it. His hand moved to wrap around Taako's shoulders and hold onto him and that alone made Taako's vision blurry again. Still, they repeated the process. On the fifth go around, the cats had reached the kitchen door again, and were pawing insistently at it with begging meows. For maybe the first time today, Taako cracked a smile.

"I don't wanna startle you," Kravitz said, in the same low tone he had used towards the cats earlier. "But your hurt. Can I heal you?"

And, oh, he was. Not only from the cat scratches, one of which had started bleeding slightly again, but his arms were covered in little knicks from the shattered pot. Taako nodded again. Kravitz pressed the watch into his hands and cut another little rift, pulling a hand harp back through. It was swiftly followed by a cat head, which Kravitz gently shoved back through and knitted up the portal.

"They're really needy today, huh?" Kravitz said. He plucked a few strings on the harp to try it out and then shifted to look more directly at Taako's arms. He plucked a short tune and Taako was already healed before realizing that it was the beginning of All Star by Fantasy Smash Mouth. This drew a proper smile out of Taako.

"Why-" Taako's voice was scratchy. He coughed a little to clear it. "Why is that your go-to healing song?"

"Well, it made you smile, didn't it?" Kravitz asked. Taako nodded again, taking another deep breath in. It was more stable. "Do you wanna... talk about it or should I let it be?"

"I..." Taako swallowed, clutching the pocket watch a bit tighter. "I should."

"I'm here to listen," Kravitz said.

"I want food first," Taako said. "I was gonna make lunch but, uh. Y'know."

"Got'cha," Kravitz said. "Wanna order something? So you don't have to eat my cooking?"

"Nothing can be worse than what I ate this morning," Taako said, leaning his head against Kravitz's shoulder. "But I can be down for some Fantasy Panda Express."

[whatshockey]

lua - w.n.

in which two people find that their worlds aren’t as simple in the morning as they’d left them the night before

song used *loosely* for inspiration: “lua” by bright eyes 

warnings: mentions of alcohol, cursing, light smut? is that a thing? pretty angsty, but that’s nothing new.

word count: 2.5k+

a/n: none of my writing has to do with any players’ actual personal lives, so if william’s still with penny (or anyone), this is all completely unrelated! nothing but love and respect here, folks. this is a very ~fake~ concept. [EDIT: fun fact! just found out that the girl in the photo is @madds-hay in case anyone wants to give a follow or ask her what willy’s like in person!]

-

Tempestuous honey laced in her sighs, with sweet amber dripping down and embracing them in the midst of the setting sun and tangled bedsheets. Her lips bit swollen, drunk off of his heavy exhales upon them, and she found herself swimming in the pale pools of blue and ice that bore into her own line of sight. His smirk drenched her in gasoline while his fingertips held the lighter, and it was no question that her skin was set ablaze. Yet nothing compared to the pain of knowing that this fire would soon be extinguished once again.

The first spark lit on a haunting October evening, a thunderstorm stumbling into their lives and banging on their windows, begging to sweep them away. The season had just begun, and she’d found herself wrapped in the arms of a large cable knit sweater she’d patiently waited to return to as the winds blew without rest. A nature documentary illuminated her apartment’s walls alongside the occasional flash of lightning to blind, and served as background noise as her eyes focused on her phone screen in front of her, mindlessly scrolling through viral videos and gossip threads with a now empty glass of Merlot resting on her coffee table.

A harsh knock at her door broke her from her daze, causing her to scramble to her tiptoes and look through the peephole of her front door. What she saw, however, had sent her stumbling back, clambering to unlock her door to the sight of a man clad in an expensive suit, running his hands through his silky hair and resting a frown across his face.

“She’s been sleeping with someone else this whole time.” He stormed in, throwing himself onto her sectional and resting his head in his hands, bouquet of flowers now a mess on her living room floor, no doubt for the woman he’d been referring to.

It was overwhelming. The two could barely count as friends, meeting by chance at private events here and there. They’d come from two very different worlds, with hers found mostly out of the limelight and his not quite the same.

“And he’s a fucking accountant, probably has the personality of a thumb.”

She hadn’t moved from her spot by her door, still shocked and now closing it quietly, padding her way into her kitchen and leaving him to rub feverish circles at his eyes, but only after punching the throw pillow placed next to him.

The situation was ironic - the two had met in similar situations, with her shedding a few tears of an ex lover and him offering the most comfort that a stranger, or perhaps acquaintances at best, could provide. The party was left roaring behind them, shut away by a sliding door as she perched herself on the balcony of the apartment, wondering why she even attended in the first place. She attempted to distract herself with the skyline surrounding her, but after feeling an unfamiliar presence by her, all that she could focus on were the ocean eyes shining under the city lights, sending her a friendly smile and sheepishly shoving a beer in her direction.

“You look like you could use one.”

The same boy was having a mental breakdown of his own now, except this time it was in her own apartment that did not have the luxury of an attractive view or breeze to cool a hot head down. There was one thing that, however as toxic as it may be, always seemed to numb their pain.

“I can’t believe she did it,” he laughed, and for the first time, she noticed it felt soulless. “More than once too.”

Hearing her return, and she doubted he noticed she was away to begin with, he looked up from his palms, eyebrows furrowed at what she was doing. Wordlessly, she poured him a glass, sat down next to him and crossed her legs, and urged him to go on. And he did.

Eventually their talks had become routine, occurring weekly and topics ranged from everything and anything in between. Yet as alcohol continued to replace their blood and lust covered their conscience, he began punctuating his sentences with his lips on her own. And neither could find it in themselves to stop.

Since then, her mind was constantly clouded with images of his lips grazing her thighs and mouthing promises meant to last solely for the night. However, it had soon become clear that roulette wasn’t a game for the faint at heart. That there was no time to prepare, nor dwell on a past move as another is made. Still she balanced on a tightrope, with her heart in one hand and regret in another, playing into the tiring game of charades and deceit as he continued to pull her strings tight, mercilessly suffocating her. And she never asked him to stop, even when she knew he was going to.

How pitiful it was that she missed things that were never hers to begin with.

She cursed herself for not stopping it all to begin with. Had the two just relied on each other for a sense of escape, and it was her fault that she fell harder than intended? That as he crept out her bed at dawn and dressed for practice, she relished in the warmth that remained after he’d left. Only once her bones had ached and her sheets grew cold could she find the strength to stretch her feet to the hardwood floors beneath her bed, the same she wished to stay in with him.

It had been about a month since they’d started this, well, whatever it was. They’d been laying in bed, his smooth skin blanketing hers, and his palms resting on the swell of her hips. Her phone was connected to the speakers, drowning out the noise of his heartbeat matching her own, and a familiar melody strummed out and echoed across the room. One that she’d attached with many fond memories, but with another man she’d once been equally as fond of.

When she attempted to bring it all up, about how it happened and whether he was genuinely okay, he’d respond with a shrug and a  “it gave me an excuse to break up with her, I guess”, sitting up on his elbows and bringing a gentle finger to her face. Once he pushed hair out of her eyes and behind her ear, and she knew that would be the end of the conversation.

She hadn’t known how much time had passed, yet the conversation continued to replay in her mind, although her stomach twisted due to another unwelcome guest. She’d indulged in the only other constant in her life, licking her lips as the poison cascaded down her throat, and her phone rang a familiar tune.

She heard her own voice stammer as he answered her phone, knowing what he’d be calling for at this hour anyways. But her fingers instinctively answered the call, and she could already feel her body crave for his touch.

“Come over?”

She shifted her weight on her feet, biting the inside of her cheek

“I’m busy tonight,” and she knew that he was aware that wasn’t a true statement, as every other week she’d spend her evenings curled in bed binge-watching the latest docu-series she came across.

“I can wait up,” he insisted.

“I seriously can’t.”

“Please.”

“I said I can’t,” She took a deep breath, rubbing her forehead as she grew more irritated.  “I’m on my period, Will.”

“Oh,” he stuttered, couging to clear his throat. “I was actually thinking, um, we could just hang out tonight.”

She could feel her throat run dry as she struggled to form a response. The thought frightened her, and she reached down to her thigh to pinch herself and make sure she wasn’t, in fact, in a strange dream. They’d never just hung out. In fact, there was always a motive behind each of their times spent together, whether that be one comforting the other, or the two of them finding comfort in each other’s bodies.

Perhaps he could sense her hesitation, as he quickly told her that he had already bought snacks and is waiting on his sofa with too much food he could finish on his own, nor should he be allowed to eat it in the midst of the hockey season. And not too long afterwards was she tucked into his side, curling her legs onto his lap and accepting his offer to relieve the pressure that built up during this time of month, his knuckles kneading out her knots and strains.

She wondered what the look he gave her that night, when he’d asked if she was sleeping with anyone else and she immediately shook her head no, had meant. How his eyes flickered with an emotion she never saw before, and how his fingers twitched across her waist before he turned his attention back to the screen before them. She even wondered had he scowled or smiled, but he’d brought his drink up to his own lips before she could see.

It wasn’t long before she was in his apartment again. However, this time in a number he’d cheekily sent to her office with a red ribbon and note that read, “Wear nothing but this tonight.”

What she hadn’t expected was a silk dress to be sitting inside, its expensive material slipping through her hands as she grabbed at it, and silking easily off of her body later that night.

She rolled her eyes as her neck grew warm, and quickly texted to let him know that she received his gift, to which he responded with only one message: “See you at 7.”

He’d picked her up from her apartment,  and drove both of them to some high-end restaurant overlooking Lake Ontario, and if he had told her the plans beforehand, she would’ve declined. While he seemed to be keeping his cool, her chest tightened as the realization hit that they were going somewhere outside of the privacy of their own apartments, and somewhere together.

He hadn’t said anything to her as she knelt to pick up her heels, moving to sit down and put them on. He had, however, watched her with an unreadable expression.

“How’d you know my size?” she asked, tilting her head to the size as he drank in her figure.

He smirked, taking her heels from her hands and kneeling before her to slip them on her feet.

“I’d say I know your body pretty well.”

His response had left her cheeks flaming, and his remarks throughout the night continued to. The thought alone that she followed his orders to truly wear nothing but the dress he had given her was enough to cause the temperature to rise. But right now, as she stood bare in between his legs with a shy smile and uneasiness spreading throughout her bones, her skin was left burning under his igniting gaze, and she melted under his fingertips.

The fire grew unmanageable, however, once he uttered three words into the crevice of her neck, outlining her collarbone with hunger, beginning to devour her with every little taste. His voice was low, yet vehement. But she knew she’d heard him loud and clear.

“I love you,” he groaned, and she had no response except to her clenched her thighs and force an even more breathy statement from him. “You’re so fucking perfect.”

Oh my god.

She wanted to push him off and hit him over and over, to scream and tell him that he can’t, and that it was a mistake. He loved her body, how she made him feel. He loved the momentary satisfaction he received wrapped in her, the state of bliss they’d reach together. He loved how easy it was to find this in her, and not worry about what she’d make of it, because she just didn’t know what to make of it.

She’d left his apartment particularly early that morning, before he could even wake up for practice and kiss her forehead as they parted. She hadn’t responded to his texts asking where she was in the morning or if she was okay.

She should’ve known, however, that he’d be back banging on her door as the moon returned, rushing in to embrace her with heavy breaths as she opened the door. She didn’t know what he expected her to look like, maybe he even thought she was dead, because his grip on her was tight and his face was buried in her hair. She moved her hand to run her fingers through his hair before he began to speak.

“Babe,” he sighed, rubbing his palms up and down her spine, causing shivers to follow. “I’m so glad you’re okay, I was so worried.”

Her eyes shot open and she began untangling herself with him, taking a deep breath and turned to look at him directly as she calmly spoke.

“You need to leave.”

Her heart swelled at the confused look on his face, eyebrows furrowed and an anxious lick at his lips.

“What’s wrong?”

She stepped away from him, asking him again although it pained her to no end.

“Let me help you,” he reached towards her, but she jumped even further back.

“You don’t get it, do you?” she raised her voice, rubbing her temples “I don’t want to see you anymore. Now, please, get out.”

“Is this about what I said earlier?” he asked softly, taking a slow step towards her. “Because if it was too early, if you weren’t ready, I-”

“What?” she almost laughed at how big of a deal it was for her, how embarrassing this whole thing was for her. “You don’t just throw around words like that.”

He moved forward again, but she stepped even further back, tailbone coming in contact with her countertop. “I wasn’t throwing them around, I swear. I meant-”

“I’m scared, Willy.” Her voice wavered, and she couldn’t look at him any longer. “I just don’t want this to change anything between us. Things can’t change between us.”

“Why not?” he questioned, grasping her arms in his own and forcing her to look up at him, eyes pooling with more emotion she thought she had towards him. “What’s so wrong about that? What are you scared of?”

He moved to tuck her hair behind her ear like he did before, except this time he brought his hand to rest at the back of her neck and rest his head against hers.

“Please,” she begged, but her body already gave away, “Just go.”

“I’m right here,” he whispered, as if he’d known that she’d run from his grasp before he could stop her. “I promise.”

She wanted to tell him that she knew that wasn’t true, that their lives were too different and far more complex than he made it out to be. That something could change in mere hours from now, and he could edge his feet away, slip from under her nose and never return.

But as their lips molded together and their bodies pressed into one, her own fears were left shattered at their feet. Time was put on hold, and the chaos that surrounded them outside of their homes’ walls seemed so much more simple when they were together.

And sometimes, things don’t look so different in the light.

[girlmeetsliv3]

Paradiso: Ten

Trigger Warning: This story depicts an abusive & toxic relationship, as well as psychological, emotional, and physical abuse. This story is pure fiction and is not based on a person or event. None of the actions taken by the character represent the individual member or bangtan.

                                                    Hope you enjoy!

Truth be told you were never blessed with the momentary haziness that comes from waking up from a deep sleep. Sure, you took a second to absorb things, but it was never like you forgot the circumstances you were in or didn’t recall what had occurred the previous night. Even your dreams you could perfectly remember almost as if you were still actively dreaming. Most may consider this a blessing, but to you: it was just another way in which the universe sought to torture you. How you hoped that momentary ignorance would take place when you woke up from your haunting dreams. To forget even if just for a second would have given your body the break it so desperately required… not a chance. For when you woke up it was drenched in sweat and the twisted smile of two little boys etched into your brain; along with all the trauma you had gone through the previous night.

          Human conscious, and subconscious for that matter, are very powerful things which have led to the evolution from chimps to the modern man; and occasionally the devolution of moral high ground we pride ourselves in owning. That which separates us from beasts. It is in the phrase mind over matter that all this rings true for the human brain is capable of anything. In it lies the key to the creation of the most beautiful, intricate, and wonderful aspects of life – as well as the opposite. Due to this one might assume that its power is unparalleled, and it is invincible - wrong. There must always be a balance…

          A slight tune could be heard coming from beyond the door, the little of the music you could hear was quite pleasing: a funky dance-pop sort of song. It was one meant to inspire happiness and a sort of carpe diem behavior; all you could feel was dread and vomit beginning to crawl its way up your esophagus. Despite how horrible the feeling and taste was you swallowed it back down and began to take deep breaths, that was preferable to the reaction Hoseok might have if his sheets were ruined. Eventually, you would have to leave the bed and the room, but the fact that there was something separating the two of you, even if it was something as miscellaneous as a door meant everything. So long as he was out there, and you were in here, then you were safe.

          To say you were terrified of him would be an understatement, but the fear had changed. Whilst in the basement he had simply been a beast: a horrid creature that acted out on instinct will little remorse for his actions. That had instilled physical fear in you. You feared his reactions, his anger, the ways in which he could hurt you or possibly kill you. A game of cat and mouse, in a sense. However, after his bedtime story, you feared him: his eyes, his thoughts, his words, everything thing that was left unsaid. Before he could only physically hurt you, but now he was inside your head. You could almost sense him in there; waiting and observing for the perfect moment. Instead of simply killing you, he would break you; something a million physical deaths could not compare to. Now you were the fly entrapped in a spider’s web as it slowly inched closer to you – almost tauntingly – the outcome was certain.

          “Jagi~” Hoseok stood right in front of you with concern reflecting in the way his eyebrows were furrowed and there was a slight pout in his lips, which could also be heard through his voice. It snapped you out of the breakdown you were about to have and once your attention focused entirely on him that gorgeous smile appeared. “You had me worried there for a second. Thought I lost you.” Ha, you wish. You smiled sheepishly and cast your eyes down in an attempt not to meet his. He grabbed your forearm lightly and tugged you out from under the covers leading you to the kitchen.

Breakfast had been served and it looked like something out of a magazine or one of those cooking shows. You couldn’t even speak as he pulled open the chair to the left of his and pushed you into the seat cushion. The gesture seemed chivalrous until he pushed the chair into the point where it was crashing against your ribs – making it difficult to move properly. He then sat comfortably in his chair and began to serve both of you breakfast, though your arms were working well he insisted on feeding you – almost like a child.

          “How’d you sleep last night?”

          “Good.”

          “You were moving a lot I noticed.”

          “I’m a restless sleeper.”

He laughed, “No, you sleep like the dead. Did you have a bad dream?”

          “Kinda.”

          “What was it about?”

          “Nothing too special; I was just outside playing in the garden.”

          “That doesn’t sound like a bad dream to me, what happened next?”

          “I was just walking around when I noticed something…”

Hoseok met your eyes as he chewed the meat, it was a silent encouragement to continue.

“A bush full of flowers.” Your tone was satirically happy now and it did not go unnoticed.

“What kind of flowers, Jagi?” A warning.

You did not heed it. “Oh, you know a bunch of them: snapdragons, marigolds, orange mocks, the likes…”

“What a peculiar assortment of flowers –“

“Yes, I thought so too.” You nodded.

“Is that all you dreamt of?!” His tone was calm, but you could sense his anger threatening to spill at any moment.

“Honestly, I don’t remember the rest.”

          There was a pause, a silence, desperately waiting to be filled. Both of you knew what was going to happen next, only who would take the first step.

          “I had a dream too, Jagi.”

          “What about?”

          “Comparisons.”

          “Comparisons?”

          “Yeah, you know, our constant need as humans to compare ourselves to others: other people, other things, other beings. To men, women, beasts; anything really.”

          “I don’t get it…”

          “It's simple really. Everyone wants to be the superior being, the only way to do that is to assess our strengths and weaknesses. But no one is ever honest with themselves, so we simply look towards other people for guidance; on what to do and what to not do. Sure it can be mundane things, but where it gets interesting is when we begin to compare ideologies and beliefs.”

          “Hobi –”

“For example, one might look to compare the beliefs of a human with that of a beast. Constantly we tell ourselves how much better and more advanced we are than them – I think it’s the opposite. They can’t help what they are it's all they know, but us, we’re the worst thing that ever happened. We know better – but we don’t give a flying fuck. Isn’t that crazy?”

          What did I do?

          Hoseok stood up from the chair, the screeching of the wooden chair on the marble floor ringing loudly in your head. You watched him the way a cornered prey watches the predator: anticipating the strike. He walked towards one of the kitchen drawers and opened it, extracting a manila folder from inside. “What I find weird though isn’t those kinds of comparisons, it’s the lies we feed to ourselves whenever we go through a bump in the road: someone out there has it worse. I used to ridicule people who thought like that, but now I guess it makes sense. Someone does always have it worse.”

          The manila folder was thrown in front of you and though you hesitated to look inside, you knew he wasn’t going to stop until you did. This is the moment previously mentioned: where the power of the mind comes into question. For despite all the modifications it had faced throughout all of known and unknown human history, despite being able to access the realm of the possibility – it can be destroyed by the contents in a cheap manila folder.