#inkstains.

for @stormscngs​ & @ofhoney​

presque vu hoseok x namjoon x yoongi (poly!rapline) / t / 5.3k domestic fluff! platonically sleeping together! feelings realisation!

Hoseok nods, resolute. “Right. And I can also decide that there’s nothing date-like happening here and forget about it.”

“Uh-huh,” Jimin says, in a tone so snide only he could manage it. “And is this conclusion based on evidence or avoidance?” “Definitely avoidance,” Taehyung interrupts, and Jimin snorts.

under pink skies hoseok x namjoon / g / 1.4k domestic fluff! lazy mornings! boys in love!

not for the first time since he blurted out his awkward messy terrifying verbal vomit excuse for a confession and was met with the softest jung hoseok he’s ever encountered, namjoon is arrested by just how wide his heart can open.

(hell is) the talking type jimin x namjoon / t / 10k magical elements! flirting! jimin being hot!

Park Jimin is a fucking deluxe specimen of a human being—especially because he manages to maintain the image despite being a dedicated student of veterinary medicine.

tell me jimin x taehyung / t / 2k just a drabble! fwb vmin! horny chaos!

out of my head namjoon x jungkook // g // 3.2k // just soft kids ok

three girls in the city — awb

They’ll tell you grief is a funny thing. But that it happens, and it happens to everybody. It had to happen sooner or later.

You did not ask.

You do not want to know how rational it is to lose. You want it not to be rational. It does not feel like it is.

It is this:

You see yourself: at age three, age four, age five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, All the way up to twenty-three, And you see your sly sister.

You both thought you were so clever.

And they let you believe it. They let you think that you were winning the world, when you charmed that little blue two rupee note from them, as if it were a hidden nugget of gold.

If only a child’s charm could erase this.

It is like this:

You walk through a gate you could find in the dark, step into a house you have been coming home to all your life. You walk in happy, expecting a pat on the head, an embarrassing pet name, a whiskery kiss on your head.

What you get is that distant uncle you don’t really like.

It’s been months, you see. The rest of them have moved on. But these people, in this house, gross uncle included, even when it makes you hate them, they understand.

They understand what you have lost.

Loss is not a grave down the block, still unmarked and sheathed in decaying layers of petals and incense. It is not your facebook wall crawling with condolences, and the endless stream of mourners in your house.

Loss comes after.

You step out onto the terrace after dinner, and suck in clean fresh air and a hint of your grandmother’s roses. That’s all, because nobody is sneaking a cigarette on the veranda below you, and Ammi will have nobody to lecture.

That is loss.

It is four in the morning, and you are awake, with all the lights on, laptop running, tinny blare of the Friends theme song playing, Kitchen messy and you loitering endlessly before the open fridge, and nobody comes to tell you off for it.

That is loss.

It is your mother’s best daal for dinner, and you look up, without thinking, words already spilling, Saying, “Hey, remember that time at Nano’s house when you made this and—?“ And halting at the sight of her face.

That is loss.

Tucked in the back of your wallet is last birthday’s present: in nice crisp notes with an order to buy yourself something spectacular with it, gifted mere weeks before it happened. You hoard it for eons, and you stare and stare and stare and stare until you can’t. Until you spend it.

You walk into a shop, blow it away in seconds and you cry about it that night.

Because loss is not a person who cannot wait anymore for you to get home at night before they eat, or it striking eight in the evening and nobody calling you to scold. It is not after-dinner walks or searching for misplaced glasses or help with Algebra, It’s not losing the indulgence or the admonishment or the love or the advice.

Loss is a four-lettered word with teeth, sunken into the flesh at your throat. And it will devour you before it ever lets go of you.