It reminds him of his mom. She was the same way, making food for Stiles and his dad was her way of making sure they were healthy and that they were taken care of. He remembers the smells and her gentle patient hands guiding him through the shaping of the pierogi. He thinks of her humming to music and the tastes of the food from their homeland.

When she died, he didn’t really eat. His dad didn’t either. People brought casseroles. They lined the freezer. Stiles and his dad picked at them sporadically. They weren’t really a family anymore, and food had brought them all together.

It isn’t until the pack that Stiles really starts cooking again. He takes care of his pack just like his mom had taken care of him. He creates meal plans, he executes grocery store runs, he develops menus, he accrues pack members personal tastes. He throws himself into it like nothing before.

Stiles takes special delight in feeding Derek. Something about it just feels right. Because of his super senses, the werewolf’s taste buds are super sensitive. He’s picky about his food. Stiles has learned to introduce subtle flavors into his dishes and to cut back on the salt. He buys only the highest quality ingredients. He makes things from scratch a lot because Derek can taste the chemical preservatives better than anyone else can.

Hey guys, look who keeps overcommitting :D

Anyway how about instead of any of the requests I have in my inbox you read a short piece I wrote in November 2022?

Word Count: 0.7k

Warnings: none

Fíli had always thought it was a bit of a strange greeting and goodbye. One kiss to each cheek, your hands easily resting on his shoulders to pull him in. You told him it was normal where you came from, and he supposed he wasn't one to tell you you weren't allowed to practice your culture near him.

A lil Sneak peak .....

You couldn’t shake it. The thought of his hands was that they were rough but so loving. The way his legs would wrap around you and keep you still. The way his mouth would utter filth alongside praise. The way his hair would fall in a halo around you as he buried himself as deep as your body would allow. The sinful things only he could make you act on. The thoughts alone sent a shiver down your spine.

Coming Soon: We're Closed Sweetheart

They say it’s better to have loved and lost

Than never to have loved at all.

But I’ve loved and loved, and counted the cost,

And each time I’m left to fall.

How could this be better—

This ache that stays and stays?

To taste of honey, then be severed

By the same mouth, again and again?

Am I cursed, then?

To be the flame that draws them close,

“Wifeable,” they say, like a whispered benediction,

Only to let me go once I let my guard down.

Dropped like a coal too hot to hold

The moment I start to believe.

Am I cursed to never be enough?

To be chosen, then unchosen,

Held, then set down gently but finally?

I don’t know.

But if love keeps finding me,

Even when it leaves,

Maybe I’m not the one who’s broken.

Maybe I’m the one still willing to stay open.

And if that’s true—

Then somewhere, there is a love that won’t let go.

A love that stays after the falling stops.

A love that calls it home.

Will I find it?

I don’t know.

But the fact I'm still asking

Tagged by @bibliophilea!

Original post was getting long so you can see it here.

Wow I haven’t written in a while. The most recent was a comic, so you’re getting the last line of that comic.

You’re making this more difficult for me.

Nice and short! Uhhh who should I tag. One for each word? Oh boy.

Let’s tag @imakemywings @tundra-tiger @misstooni @thedreadblog @prydoniantrash @astatia-ghast @jackdaw-sprite

10K words into TRUST ME, I’M LYING.