#aspirational trance melodies

[50-like-a-machine]

ABOVE THE HORIZON , WHERE THE DREAMS ARE GOLDEN #50LAM_TRANCE

"Above the Horizon, Where the Dreams Are Golden" is an uplifting trance song that transports listeners to a serene and euphoric state. The track features ethereal synths, uplifting melodies, and a driving beat that mimics the feeling of soaring above the clouds. As the song progresses, it builds into an epic crescendo, filled with warm basslines and shimmering harmonies, evoking a sense of freedom and boundless possibilities. The title suggests a place where dreams shine brightly, symbolizing hope, aspiration, and the beauty of chasing one's goals. It's perfect for trance lovers who seek both energy and emotional depth in their music. The soundscape captures the magical feeling of being weightless, far above the horizon, where everything seems golden and infinite.

#AboveTheHorizon #TranceMusic #GoldenDreams #UpliftingTrance #EuphoricBeats #Dreamscape #TranceVibes #ElectronicMusic #EpicMelodies #SoaringSynths

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[alyrasturnz]

can u do quiet!matt x yapper!reader hcs?

just the hcs tho! no need for the lil blurbs

SILENT AFFECTIONS

❐ summary » matt is a man of few words but deep emotions. he finds solace in the quiet moments, the gentle rustling of leaves, and the soft glow of morning light. his world changes when he meets you, a lively soul whose voice brings color to his serene life. together, you navigate the delicate dance of love, where matt's silent gestures speak volumes, and your animated stories breathe life into his quiet existence.

❐ pairings » quiet!matt x yapper!reader

❐ warnings » headcanons!

❐ a/n && w/c » i hate this LMAO • 467

quiet!matt who, in the midst of your endless chatter, sometimes drifts into a trance, his eyes tracing the contours of your face as if committing each feature to memory. he finds himself lost in the rhythm of your voice, the animated expressions that dance across your features, and the way your eyes light up with every story you tell.

quiet!matt who finds a profound serenity in your presence, even when your words cascade endlessly. he cherishes the way your voice weaves through the air, transforming the emptiness into a tapestry of comfort.

quiet!matt who discerns the subtle nuances of your day, those fleeting moments you might overlook. he channels this awareness into thoughtful gestures, each one a testament to his deep and abiding care.

quiet!matt who communicates his protectiveness without uttering a single word. a gentle hand on your shoulder or a slight shift closer in a crowd speaks volumes, a silent vow of his unwavering guardianship.

quiet!matt who treasures the tranquil interludes, where silence becomes a shared sanctuary. your head resting on his shoulder, both of you enveloped in a wordless communion that transcends the need for speech.

quiet!matt who quietly supports your dreams and aspirations, offering steadfast support that fortifies your belief in yourself.

quiet!matt who wakes up before you just to watch the peaceful expression on your face as you sleep, memorizing every detail as if it's a precious work of art. he loves hearing your voice first thing in the morning, filling the room with your lively chatter, which brings a smile to his face and starts his day on a bright note.

quiet!matt who writes little notes and leaves them in places you’ll find throughout your day, each one a small reminder of his love and appreciation for you. he enjoys listening to you excitedly recount every discovery, each note becoming a new point of conversation that lights up your interactions.

quiet!matt who takes the time to learn your favorite songs on the guitar, playing them softly in the background as you unwind from a long day. he smiles as you sing along, your voice adding a vibrant energy to the melody, creating a harmonious blend of his quiet support and your lively spirit.

quiet!matt who instinctively knows when you need space and when you need a hug, always attuned to your unspoken needs and emotions. he listens patiently as you talk through your thoughts and feelings, his silent presence offering a steady anchor amidst the waves of your expressive nature.

quiet!matt who keeps a journal of your shared memories, chronicling the journey of your relationship with words and sketches, a silent testament to the depth of his feelings. he loves hearing you excitedly reminisce about each moment, your animated storytelling breathing life into the pages and deepening the bond you share.

taglist — @imwetforyourmom @meatballzerz69 @bandanamatt @thedangerousalleyway @muchloveforhacker @stinkytinkywinky @jetaimevous @everleiqh @conspiracy-ash @ifwdominicfike @blahbel668 @slutforsturnioloss @realuvrrr

[my-music-1460]

Exploring the Vibrant World of Electronic Dance Music

Electronic Dance Music (EDM) has become a global phenomenon, captivating millions with its infectious beats and high-energy performances. From massive festivals to intimate club scenes, EDM has carved out a unique space in the music industry. In this blog post, we delve into the vibrant world of EDM, exploring its origins, subgenres, and the cultural impact it has made worldwide.

The Origins of Electronic Dance Music

EDM traces its roots back to the disco era of the late 1970s and early 1980s, when pioneering artists began experimenting with electronic instruments and synthesizers. The genre quickly evolved, influenced by techno, house, and trance music. Key figures like Kraftwerk, Giorgio Moroder, and Jean-Michel Jarre played significant roles in shaping the early sounds of electronic music.

Subgenres of EDM

The diversity within EDM is one of its most appealing aspects. Here are some of the most popular subgenres that have emerged over the years:

House Music: Originating in Chicago in the early 1980s, house music is characterized by its repetitive 4/4 beat and soulful melodies. Artists like Frankie Knuckles and Larry Heard were instrumental in popularizing this genre.

Techno: Emerging from Detroit in the mid-1980s, techno is known for its futuristic sounds and complex rhythms. Pioneers like Juan Atkins, Derrick May, and Kevin Saunderson laid the groundwork for this genre.

Trance: Known for its hypnotic melodies and uplifting soundscapes, trance music gained popularity in the 1990s. Influential artists include Paul Oakenfold, Tiesto, and Armin van Buuren.

Dubstep: Characterized by heavy basslines and syncopated rhythms, dubstep originated in the UK in the early 2000s. Skream, Benga, and Burial are notable figures in this genre.

Drum and Bass: With its fast breakbeats and complex basslines, drum and bass emerged from the UK rave scene in the early 1990s. Key artists include Goldie, Roni Size, and Andy C.

The Cultural Impact of EDM

EDM has had a profound cultural impact, influencing fashion, visual arts, and even social movements. The rise of EDM festivals like Tomorrowland, Ultra Music Festival, and Electric Daisy Carnival has created a sense of community among fans, fostering connections that transcend geographical boundaries.

These festivals are more than just music events; they are immersive experiences that blend cutting-edge technology with artistic expression. The use of elaborate stage designs, pyrotechnics, and interactive elements has set a new standard for live music performances.

EDM in the Digital Age

The digital age has revolutionized the way EDM is produced, distributed, and consumed. With the advent of digital audio workstations (DAWs) and affordable music production software, aspiring producers can create high-quality tracks from the comfort of their homes. Platforms like SoundCloud, YouTube, and Spotify have made it easier than ever for artists to share their music with a global audience.

Social media has also played a crucial role in the rise of EDM, allowing artists to connect with fans, promote their music, and build their personal brands. DJs and producers often use platforms like Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok to engage with their audience and showcase their creative processes.

The Future of EDM

As technology continues to evolve, so too will the landscape of EDM. Virtual reality (VR) and augmented reality (AR) are poised to revolutionize live performances, offering fans immersive experiences that go beyond traditional concerts. The integration of AI and machine learning in music production is also opening up new possibilities for creativity and innovation.

Moreover, the global nature of EDM ensures that it will continue to evolve, incorporating diverse cultural influences and pushing the boundaries of what is possible in music. As new generations of artists emerge, they will undoubtedly bring fresh perspectives and sounds to the genre.

Conclusion

Electronic Dance Music is more than just a genre; it is a cultural movement that has captivated millions around the world. From its humble beginnings in underground clubs to its current status as a global phenomenon, EDM continues to inspire and unite people through the power of music. Whether you are a longtime fan or a newcomer to the scene, there is always something new and exciting to discover in the ever-evolving world of EDM.

[manifestopaulo]

Slave to the Rhythm

Is there a parallel between the hypnotising effect of rhythm, and the hypnotic effect of consumerism and capitalism?

Absolutely, these concepts can be parallel in terms of their hypnotic effects though they manifest differently:

Rhythm is universal and innate, it resonates within us, drawing on our primal instinct to recognise patterns and synchronicities. It creates a kind of hypnosis, leading us to lose ourselves in a pulsating collective experience. Dance, music, and other rhythm-based expressions exploit this to bring people together, promoting unity and shared emotion.

Likewise, consumerism and capitalism can also create a kind of pervasive, societal 'rhythm' that we instinctively follow. Just as a beat can mold our physical movements, consumer society sets a tempo and pattern to our desires and behavior. Marketing efforts play the melody that guides our hunger for the new, the better, the premium, creating a trance-like state of continuous consumption. 

White, middle class normative ideas, often portrayed as a standard in mainstream media, serve as the 'metronome' of this societal rhythm. They set the pace, dictating what to aspire to and how one should live, much like a tempo guides a song. It can be argued that this 'music of consumerism' often serves to preserve the status quo – ensuring that systems of capitalism can keep functioning without disruption.

Like the trance induced by rhythm, the rhythm of consumerism can be hypnotic and hard to break free from. The imagery and narratives projected onto us can be so compelling that we may stop questioning if they are what we truly desire or if we're simply following the societal beat - similar to how we might get lost in the rhythm of a song, forgetting everything else. 

In both scenarios, the struggle exists to maintain individuality and not lose oneself entirely within the rhythm while also understanding that the rhythm connects us to others. 

But I would argue that losing yourself to the rhythm is an essential part of life, I truly believe. It has the power to transform you, revealing hidden facets of your identity that you never knew existed. It can bring fulfillment and unity, and even being immersed in it like a "slave" can be incredibly pleasurable.

I also strongly believe that capitalism holds remarkable transformative potential. When we become more engaged, healthier, stronger, and better versions of ourselves, because striving, being driven and grinding away is actually quite sexy. This transformation can be achieved through various means such as embracing consumerism, traveling, exploring new experiences, and even falling in love, because these are the things dreams are made of right?

However, a blind allegiance to systemic norms, becoming a mere cog in the machinery, is a path one should be wary of. It's important to question whether what we're pursuing aligns with our true desires. I hold steadfastly to the doctrine of rejecting a system's dogma, with capitalism being no exception. There is a point where it just becomes about being pushed to chase the pervasive modes of expression propagated by the middle-class establishment. This is a constant game of seeking 'exclusiveness' and contentment through consumerism, which is akin to being always-in-pursuit of elusive dreams. Like chasing a carrot on a stick that guides you towards a destination that you never quite reach.

This makes me recall a passage from the incredible Steve Jones biography 'Lonely Boy: Tales from a Sex Pistol'. The former Sex Pistols member hilariously recalls his brief experience working food manufacturers ‘Walls’ in a processed meat sausage making factory, where witnessing the cruel treatment of animals he warns of how following the herd can lead to our ultimate demise.

“I was never going to be one of those people who just go along with what everyone else thinks you should do, cos that’s how you end up getting your guts ripped out and your arse wrapped in plastic.”

It’s all a dance whether it's the rhythm of a beat or the rhythm of consumer society.

[thebandcampdiaries]

Introducing: Benjafina

An alternative duo on a quest to revolutionize the way artists use AI to create something special.

Benjafina is a duo known for its unique blend of industrial, alternative, and cyber-hop.

The pair's debut single, "Ravage Savage," is currently available on streaming services. The song explores the intense emotions of a breakup, but there is more to the table. At its core, the track highlights a sense of detachment from the current state of the world. Benjafina is about sharing thoughts, feelings, emotions, and societal roles through music. In many ways, people are brainwashed and deceived by the system, but Benjafina reminds us that there is another way: we can take a stand if we become who we are truly meant to be instead of following along to the voices of the mainstream!

Their true goal is to encourage people to question the façade of society and mainstream media. Benjafina wants individuals to pause and reevaluate their lives. Are they acting as their authentic selves or succumbing to societal expectations? The duo's music aims to answer these questions, enticing people to embrace individuality. Benjafina also draws inspiration from the current trends in AI. This affects their unique futuristic style and aesthetic vibe, as they love to tap into the realms of digital fashion and cyberculture. Benjafina actively collaborates with digital fashionistas from DressX to curate their social media presence, promoting independent creators while minimizing the environmental impact of fabric production. Furthermore, they leverage AI-generated art to enhance their social media marketing efforts, allowing them more time to focus on creating new music. As artists, they aspire for a better future and strive to reduce their carbon footprint.

The pair has also announced an upcoming release, "She Falls Awake." With this song, Benjafina offers an iconic alternative metal anthem that confronts awakening from the American dream and accepting one's fate. The song critically addresses the obsession with seeking fame through reality TV and pursuing virality. Through their pulsating rhythms, evocative melodies, and powerful vocals, they aim to break the hypnotic trance that society imposes. Benjafina boldly calls out gaslighters and exposes the shallowness of the so-called "woke" culture. They intend to compel listeners to recognize the urgency for change and take personal responsibility for it to happen!

Find out more and listen:

Linktr.ee/benjafina

[tataswish]

❝   at the rooftop  /  myg.

━   ・  paring:  aspiring rapper!min yoongi x reader. ━   ・ genre:  neighbors au, smut, fluff, with a pinch of angst. ━   ・ word count:  5.0k.   ━   ・  contains:  mutual pining, dirty talk, unprotective sex (wrap it before you tap it!), rooftop sex, and a little bit of sadness at the end. ━   ・  summary:  in which you look back at the memories you’ve made with yoongi, the neighbor who you once fell in love with. heavily inspired by the song ‘the one that got away.’

author’s note:  i had a dream about this so... here it is. LMAO. it’s been i while since i last wrote so excuse my rambling but happy reading! i thought about making a mini series out of this but... we’ll see. <3

The day you first met Min Yoongi was a memory you always looked fondly back at.

It happened one gloomy afternoon. After another tiresome day at work, you decided to find solace on your apartment building’s rooftop—a place that easily became your go-to whenever you wanted to spend time in solitude. No one ever really was up there (with the exception of the parties thrown by residents from time to time), so it was always strange seeing someone else who wasn’t you up there.

There was something about that place that brings you so much comfort. Maybe it was the string lights that hang perfectly across the ledges, the mixture of house plants displayed around the area, or the inviting smell of vanilla greeting your nose from the candles on almost every surface—it was nice. If the chance presented itself, you would be there for hours on end doing nothing and be content with it.

Making your way towards the rattan sofa that sat right beside the ledge, your tracks were suddenly put to a stop upon seeing an unfamiliar face sitting at that very same spot. He was leaning back on one side of  the off-white cushion, legs slightly spread apart, chilled bottle of beer in hand as his eyes gaze absentmindedly at the view of the city skyline beside him. He must’ve been so lost in thought, because even with you standing in front of him, he didn’t move.

“Is that seat taken?” you asked amidst the silence while feigning a warm smile.

That was enough for him to finally snap out of his trance, because you could see him jump from his spot and immediately straighten his posture. You couldn’t help but stifle a soft laugh. “No—no, yeah, no. It’s not. I was getting ready to leave anyway, so—” he was already beginning to stand from where he was sitting, obviously flustered at the situation he’s been put in.

“I don’t mind sharing!” you interjected before impulsively placing a hand on the stranger’s arm as some sort of reassurance. At the realization, your eyes began to grow two times its size, and you retracted it at an instant with your cheeks flushed.

It was silent for a moment. Between you trying to gage how he felt about the sudden contact and him wondering what the fuck just happened, it clearly triggered some sort of fight of flight response. Your mind was scrambling, trying to find the right thing to say, but before you could even open your mouth—

He laughed. It was a low, yet bubbly laugh—one that you never thought would eventually fall in love with. As the lights above perfectly illuminated his features, that moment was also the first time you saw him smile. There was something stirring up within you, a feeling that gave you so much warmth from merely watching this stranger express happiness, even if it was for a brief moment.

In fact, it was so contagious that you began to laugh too.

You didn’t think you’d enjoy being comfortable with silence until you met Yoongi. Despite the fact that you spent a majority of that evening sitting in silence, it didn’t bother you at all. In most instances with others, you almost always felt obligated to say something, anything after a while but you didn’t feel that pressure with him—this stranger that you’ve only met three hours ago.

Still, you basked in the moment. The two of you sat together on that large couch, sharing the view. You were sitting with your legs criss-crossed, both arms resting over them, while Yoongi relaxed by sinking deeper into the cushion, one arm resting on the couch’s back—which was also right behind yours. You immediately learned that he, unlike yourself, wasn’t much of a talker. In the few hours you’ve spent with him on the rooftop, you’ve only learned: his name, age, and the fact that he moved into this building just today. Why? That was a mystery you’ve yet to discover. You also didn’t want to be that person who practically interrogates the new guy, trying to discover his whole life story in the span of one night. If he was living in the same building, you were confident you’d see him around from time to time anyway. Besides, it was evident that the two of you were already comfortable with each other’s presence.

“What kind of music do you listen to?” The question took you by surprise. From staring at the skyline, he then glanced back at you, eyebrow slightly cocked.

It took you a minute to think of something. If Yoongi was the type of person who took people’s music tastes seriously, you wanted to make sure you’d give a solid response—but then again, you wanted to avoid an obvious copout answer either. Truth be told, your music taste was all over the place. Shuffling any of your Spotify playlists was a dangerous game, because it could jump from contrasting genres that wouldn’t make any sense.

So you kind of… panicked.

“I like anything,” you blurted out, already regretting your choice of words. Deep inside, you were cringing, because it left a bad taste in your mouth.

You knew he was going to be disapproving of that answer, but he surprised you with a different reaction instead. Instead, he let out a small chuckle. “Anything, huh? What about rap? I have something I want you to listen to.”

Intrigued, you adjusted your position on the couch, eyes watching him as he shuffled to get his phone out of his pocket. The black, chunky headphones that hugged his neck were then offered to you, and you flashed a small grin upon taking it before putting it on yourself. At this point you were curious. So, your prying set of eyes continued to watch his phone’s screen as he scrolled through a list of what seemed to be recordings until selecting a file that was named Trivia 轉: Seesaw.

You weren’t sure what to expect. Initially, you thought this was some random song recommendation that he wanted to share with you, but it was much more than that. The moment you heard the artist of this track begin to sing the first verse, you were left in shock. “Is this you?” you mouthed quietly over to him, who to your surprise, was now sitting incredibly close to you. It took you a minute to notice the way that your knees were pressed against one another, faces inches apart.

He smiled bashfully with a nod. Truth be told, you didn’t expect it. Yet, you were sitting there, head nodding to the beat as the melody graced your ears. Despite only knowing him for only three hours, you knew that there was something about this song that… suited him so well. You weren’t sure if it was the eloquent rapping or the deep lyrics behind it, it all screamed Yoongi.

And you were in love with it. It became one of your favorite things to listen to.

“I can’t believe…” you trailed off once the song finished, gently lifting the headphones off of you to give them back. “I went on with my life without being blessed by this song until now. Yoongi, that was fucking amazing. If I knew you longer, I would’ve started crying but… I spared you the misery tonight.”

He rolled his eyes with a smile, flattered—but feeling shy at the same time. “Relax, ____, you don’t have to kiss my ass. I can take criticism. It hasn’t even been released yet; I just wanted to get your opinion on it.” Chewing on the inside of his cheek, he looked at you expectantly. “Tell me the truth.”

“I’m serious, Yoongi. I swear on my life,” you assured softly, a smile growing across your lips as your hand raises to swear by it. “It’s definitely one of those songs that people are going to play on repeat. Everyone’s going to love it.”

“Yeah?” he asked, attempting to hide his widening grin.

At this point your gazes were locked with one another, and you could’ve sworn he could hear the rampant beating of your heart. “Yeah,” you confidently answered back.

Later that night was the time you discovered that Min Yoongi was actually your newfound neighbor. It all happened by accident—the two of you meant to part ways after leaving the rooftop, but ended up taking the same flight of stairs down, walking through the same hallway, and stopping right next to each other after saying “bye” at the same time upon reaching both of your doors.

“Stalking me already? Really?” you quipped playfully, looking back after opening your door.

“How do I know you’re not stalking me first?” he joked in return, suggestively raising an eyebrow. He finished unlocking his own door too.

“I mean, I lived here first, so… pack it up Joe from You.” And your answer was enough for the two of you to fall into a giggling fit after.

Yoongi was the first to say goodbye. He continued to stand before his door, hand on the knob despite not wanting to step inside any time soon. “Thanks for letting me crash your alone time today... and for listening to my shitty music. It was nice.”

“Of course,” you replied warmly. “I won’t argue with you, but know that as of today, I’ve become Suga’s #1 fan. Expect me to be in the front row of your shows from now on.”

Even with the roll of his eyes, you could clearly tell that he was amused. “Night, _____. Just don’t fall in love with me, alright? I don’t date fans.”

“Sweet dreams, neighbor. And don’t worry, I don’t plan on falling in love with you any time soon.”

Yet somewhere along the way, you found yourself falling in love.

He’d been your neighbor for a few months now, and the two of you practically became attached to the hip. You later learned that when he first moved into the city, he didn’t expect to make any sort of friends. Yoongi only planned on making music 24/7—hoping to kickstart his music career after some time. Apparently, before he moved into your building, he was working in some financial firm crunching numbers for eight hours straight. He was engaged too. But, when he revealed to his fiancée (now ex fiancée) that he wanted to quit his job and pursue music… she didn’t take it very well. So, they later separated and Yoongi searched for a new beginning in a city miles away from everything he once knew.

Unlike his ex, you strove to become extremely supportive of his music career. In fact, he was supportive of your teaching career too. On Wednesday mornings, he would always volunteer to come into your classroom and sing a few songs in front of your kindergarten students during circle time. He’d also stay to read a book or two before heading out to get lunch—only to wait for your break so that the two of you could eat together. Then on Friday nights, you would be standing front row in his shows. While his venues were mostly at nightclubs and the city nightlife wasn’t your thing, you were still there—singing along to his music and at times making the best attempt to rap as fast as he could. You’d wait for him by the back after his set, and it became a tradition to head to the nearest convenience store to fill up on ramen, alcohol, and shrimp chips (a staple for every night in).

It was hard not to fall for someone like Yoongi. There was just something about him that you absolutely adored, and even though you were sure he didn’t reciprocate those feelings in that way, you were okay with that. Having him be a part of your life was enough.

The two of you always joked about it though, how you were each other’s soulmates. How one would always complete the other; plus, sharing this sort of mutual understanding that doesn’t need to be talked about. You’ve never felt this strong pull with anyone else, and he’s admitted it too.

“There she is,” you heard the familiar voice coo from afar. Looking up from your phone, you spotted Yoongi leaving through the back door of the nightclub, approaching as if you were the one who just finished performing a show. Still, the grin on your lips couldn’t stop spreading at the sight of him.

“Oh my god, Suga! I’m like, your biggest fan! Can I get a picture?!” you shrieked, attempting to put on your best impression of the teenage girls who’ve been approaching him often lately. Even with all of his shows taking place in venues that only allowed people over the age of twenty, he still harbored a lot of young fans. While they weren’t allowed to watch his shows, they showed their support in other ways.

He rolled his eyes but attained the beaming smile swept across his lips. In all the time you’ve known him, you’ve discovered that Yoongi was never really one to crack a smile with others. But with you? You were the only exception to that.

His skin was glistening from the beads of sweat that trickled down after performing, and you took it upon yourself to gingerly sweep his coffee-colored bangs off of his face with your fingers. He was staring at you at this point, and you were desperately trying to keep it together without melting into putty in his hands. Because one thing’s for sure—the way he looks at you will always be your weakness. “What?” you challenged, now using a tissue you pulled from your bag to lightly dab his facial features. Your voice was faint, quiet enough to still be heard with your faces only inches apart.

“Nothing,” he replied lowly, stifling a small laugh. “I like looking at you.”

After another successful trip to the convenience store, you and Yoongi went back home to change into more comfortable clothes before meeting back up at the rooftop. It was nearing midnight, so the city was getting ready to turn in. The buildings gradually began to turn their lights off, which only made the stars littered across the night sky shine brighter than before. The rooftop was well-lit thanks to the string lights and candles around you, and even with the cool December breeze sweeping through, you were comfy underneath the plush blanket that wrapped around both of your bodies.

It was nights like this that you held special to your heart.

“Be honest with me,” Yoongi brought up amidst the comfortable silence. He placed the plastic bowl that held his ramen onto the coffee table in front of him before looking back at you. “Do you think I made a mistake? You know… leaving everything in my old life behind to do this? I mean—don’t get me wrong, I love it, I just… feel guilty. There’s always this voice in the back of my head that’s yelling at me for being selfish. My life was fine before, you know? I screwed it all up.”

You blinked slowly. It wasn’t the first time he’d shared his doubts with you, but it was always concerning how much it lingered in his head. At the end of the day, what’s done is done. No matter how many times he feels guilty, he shouldn’t look back anymore. This was his life now.

But how could you put it into words that’ll make him understand?

Finishing your food after setting your own bowl down, you took a moment to process everything and think of an answer. You knew very well that you weren’t some licensed therapist capable of giving credited advice, but you were fairly decent at providing comfort to others. “I don’t think so,” you finally replied, keeping your gaze on him steady. “You have to think about it this way, Yoongi. Yeah you were fine before, but… were you happy? Like, actually happy? And are you happy now?”

Those questions left Yoongi speechless. He really took the time to ponder on it, chewing on his bottom lip in thought. You tried to read his expressions, though, it wasn’t any help. It was quiet. Aside from the soft music playing in the background from the small bluetooth speaker that sat on the ledge, the silence that simmered between you two was piercing.

“I guess I wasn’t,” he breathed after a short sigh. “I was miserable.”

You felt his pain at that moment. There was something about the way he said it—how it made your heart wrench and your stomach churn. “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay, it’s not your fault,” he waved it off, and you could sense the slight frustration in his tone. “If anything, meeting you made everything better.”

Biting back a smile, you instantly began to feel the heat rush through your cheeks. Your chest was pounding and your head was dizzy—shocked at how those little words could make your head go haywire. Still, you did your very best in keeping it collected. “Yeah?” you asked, sounding hopeful. Your glistening eyes met his, shifting your body a bit to fully face his.

“Yeah,” he reassured, unable to keep his smile any longer.

That very night was the night Yoongi decided to be bold. He brought a hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind ear, only to lessen the distance between both of your faces. Even with your head spinning, you were still able to admire his soft features—the way his eyes literally sparkled when they looked at you, the way his rosy cheeks from the alcohol became more prominent. “You make me so fucking happy, ____. I thought you were just going to be another face I’d see from time to time when we met that night, but… you became more than that. I think I’m in love with you.”

And at that moment, it felt like time had stopped between you two. That nothing else mattered in the world aside from the fact that Min Yoongi—the neighbor you fell in love with—felt the same way.

“Be honest with me,” you decided to match his boldness by using a free hand to gently sweep his bangs off of his face. They were trembling a little, but he didn’t seem to notice. His eyes kept its focus on you and you only, feigning that same look that always makes you crumble.

He nodded, egging you to continue.

“Would you kiss me right now if I asked?”

Your lips were immediately met by his. It was sweet, and you could taste the hint of ramen broth and beer that lingered. The way his lips felt matched the way that he kissed you—soft, and tender. His hands found their way on your hips beneath the blanket your bodies shared, while yours rested perfectly on both sides of his jaw. With chests pressed against one another, you noticed that his heart was pounding too. And that only made you smile in between kisses.

At this point, neither one of you wanted to pull apart. Instead, your lips were roughly colliding in full-force, the intensity of the kiss amplifying. Yoongi’s hand began to trail down further until his fingers reached the inside of your thigh. Your breath hitched at his touch, desperately wanting him to explore further. But he chose to stop. “Yoongi,” you said his name in an unintentional soft whine after pulling away, practically begging for more friction.

Rational thinking was thrown out of the window tonight. You were riding from the high of Yoongi practically confessing his love for you, and all you wanted to do was have him. All of him.

“Hm?” he let out a quiet hum, fingers dancing closer and closer. His lips continued to wander across your skin, peppering kisses all over your neck and down to your exposed collar bones.

“Touch me,” you whispered into his ear. “Please.”

He didn’t waste another moment. He reached over to slide your pajama pants down in one quick pull and you assisted in kicking them out of the way. It gave him leeway to use the pads of his fingers to gently massage your clothed core, pressing just enough to provide pressure that had your lips leaving quiet moans that were thankfully, still masked by the music in the background. “Take this off and spread your legs for me,” he demanded lowly.

You’ve never seen this side of him before—but god he knew how to turn you on. If the blanket wasn’t over you right now, you would’ve felt exposed from the wetness pooling in between your thighs. But you did as you were told without any hesitation, sliding your panties down until they hugged your ankles, kicking them off entirely, leaving your bottom half bare beneath the warm fabric.

Yoongi took it as a cue to slide his fingers between your legs and prying them apart. You’ve never felt more vulnerable than at this moment. Even with the blanket hovered securely over your body, the way his gaze was on you was more than enough to make you feel like he owned you tonight. And you were okay with that. Slender fingers dipping into your dripping core, he used it as a way to collect the overflown juices before using it as a lubricant to massage your throbbing clit. His pace was agonizingly slow, but it still made your back arch off of the couch in pleasure.

The sight only made him mumble profanities under his breath.

“Do you think about me when you touch yourself, ____?” he asked, dark eyes still locked on yours. He was still close, and you could feel his hot breath tickle your skin at each word. Slowly inserting two fingers on the get-go, your eyes impulsively roll back at the way they stretched your walls in the best possible way. His pace soon began to quicken without a fair warning, and you couldn’t help but whimper each time they pump into your g-spot. “Do you think about me fucking you like this?”

Your headspace was such a euphoric state that you couldn’t even find the right words for an answer. Rather than saying anything, you only nodded feverishly to let him know that he was doing everything right. The thought of having Yoongi’s fingers fucking tirelessly inside you was more than enough to rile you up and near your orgasm.

You’ve thought about it multiple times before. Every time you see him on that stage, swiping the sweat off of the back of his neck that left his fingers glistening, your mind begins to wander into dangerous places. It was hot—there’s no denying it.

You were close. But as soon as you were about to finish, the momentum was put to a stop, because you took it upon yourself to remove his fingers out of you on your own. Confused, Yoongi began to look at you as if he’s done something wrong, though, you hoped he’d get the hint the minute your hand found its way to palm his hardening erection through his sweatpants. “I wanna finish inside you,” you breathed, planting kisses that began from his neck and worked its way up to his lips.

“Then do it.”

Using both of your hands to pull both his sweatpants and boxer briefs down, allowing for his length to spring free. After he successfully kicked them both off of him, you stood from your previous position to straddle him, putting both hands on his shoulders to support yourself. His eyes carefully watched you as you slowly unzipped your hoodie, revealing that you wore nothing underneath.

He was mesmerized. And it was all for him—with the blanket still covering both of your bare bodies, he was the only one who could see you like this. No one else.

A devilish grin laced your lips at the sight of him speechless as you helped remove his sweatshirt. Slowly but surely, you lifted yourself up slightly to line Yoongi’s erection up before sinking in.

The two of you both let out a satisfied moan in unison, and Yoongi’s hands began to wander around your warm body—hands stopping at your ass to dig his fingers into your flesh as you rocked your hips at a steady pace. His mouth on the other hand was busy with your breasts, tongue flicking against each hardened nipple even as they bounced.

“Do you think about me fucking you like this?” you mimicked him in a playful yet sultry tone, using both of your hands to lift his face up in order to make full-on eye contact with you while you continued to ride him. He threw his head back in response, all while still keeping his gaze on yours. From his expression alone, you could tell that he was wrapped around your fingers.

But instead of giving you any sort of real answer, he rolled his eyes and pulled you in for a kiss, satisfying his craving for your lips once more. Before you knew it, your positions had switched, and you were fully lying down on the couch with Yoongi on top of you. The blanket had been partially discarded since Yoongi couldn’t care less about it, only draping over the bottom half of your bodies. You let out a small shiver as you felt the cold air, but it all seemed to disappear the minute you felt his length fill you up once more.

“You’re my weakness, _____,” you heard him say softly once your foreheads touch, his lips brushing against yours. His thrusts were at a slow pace, but it was still enough to hit your g-spot each time. “After meeting you that night, I knew I was fucked.”

It was unfair—how Min Yoongi knew how to tug your heartstrings in any situation (literally). There was nothing more intimate than this, though. The two of you were left vulnerable, and he found the perfect moment to say it. “I feel the same way,” you whispered, hands lifted up to cup his flushed cheeks. “Because I think I’m in love with you too.”

Yoongi began to pick up the pace upon hearing you confess. With one hand gripping tightly on the couch’s arm rest until his knuckles turn white, another snuck in between your bodies to have his thumb rub your clit, matching the intensity of his thrusts.

“Yoongi, I’m so close—” you whined quietly into his ear while he continued to fuck you senselessly, walls fluttering and tightening around him. There was that familiar feeling building up inside you, and you were so close to coming undone. Yoongi continued to snap his hips into yours while tracing quick circles around your sensitive bundle of nerves until you felt yourself let go. Your body jolted as you cried in please, and even then, he didn’t stop. He milked every last drop of the wave of pleasure he’d given you that left you out of breath. There was this buzzing that refused to leave your ears, and your eyes were watery from the overwhelming feeling.

Smirking in satisfaction, each thrust became more sloppy and erratic. It didn’t take long for him to follow suit, pulling out to finish on you. He groaned as you felt his warmth spill across your frame, panting from the intense session the two of you just shared.

“Damn, I made a mess,” he said playfully after reaching out for a napkin on the table to wipe your body clean, which earned a soft slap on his end. He only laughed once you were able to sit back up, leaning in to steal a quick kiss on the lips.

Once the two of you were finished getting dressed and cleaning the area, you both decided to stay on the rooftop for a few more minutes. Both of you were nuzzled against one another for warmth, your back pressed against Yoongi while he had an arm wrapped around you. SUGAR by BROCKHAMPTON was playing in the background, and Yoongi was singing softly to the chorus while you quietly admired his small performance.  

“Remember when you said you wouldn’t fall in love with a fan?” the words left your lips with a smile, recalling the memory like it was only yesterday. At this point, you were just there to tease him. “Tsk. Can’t believe I’m into a hypocrite.”

He laughed, nose digging into your hair. “You’re different. I’d do anything for you.”

↳   PRESENT DAY.

“Ready to go, babe?”

You’ve spent the past hour sitting on the rooftop’s sofa in solitude, admiring the blue sky in front of you. You were quietly humming to Suga’s Trivia 轉: Seesaw to yourself as you watched the view, until you were interrupted by the familiar voice entering your ears. The smile on your face widened as he approached you, offering a hand to help you up.

It’d been months since you’ve last heard from Yoongi. He was off doing bigger, better things—and you were proud of him for that. After spending hours and hours of going back and forth with one another one night, the two of you had the realization that the long-term goals you both had didn’t align. He was asked to commit to a world tour for the next year and a half, and you wanted to stay where your life was. Here.

Yoongi was more than willing to drop his entire career to be with you, but you knew it wasn’t right. So, no matter how painful it felt, you had to let go. He’s made so many sacrifices to get to where he was, and you refused to be the reason why he couldn’t live his dreams. No matter how much you both loved each other.

Deep inside, you’ve always hoped that he’d come home. That one night you’d find him sitting in that very same spot on the rooftop, legs sprawled apart, absentmindedly staring at the night sky. But it’s been months. No calls, no texts—only a meek dial tone at the end of the line.

It was a hard pill to swallow, but Min Yoongi was simply the right person you’ve met at the wrong time.

“Yeah,” you answered Jungkook softly before taking his hand to lift yourself from the seat. A quiet giggle left your lips once your boyfriend pulled you closer to pepper kisses on your cheek, and the two of you began your walk out of the building. “Let’s get out of here.”

[cal-kestis]

If I Could Never Give You Peace

(Javier Peña x Female Reader)

Gif by @pedropcl​ [original gifset]

Summary: Two years after resigning from the DEA, Javi finds himself in Los Angeles, haunted by glares of gunshots and blood-stained hands. He’d succumbed to the idea that he’d never have peace — doesn’t deserve it after everything he did in Colombia. Then, she moves in next door and maybe, he thinks, things could be different. “I hope this doesn’t scare you,” she whispers, her fingers still tracing shapes over his head. “But I care about you, Javi, a lot. I think I could fall in love with you someday...” She exhales, a quiet, shaky sound. “I think I’ve already started.” Word Count: 4,357 A/N: A Reader-insert one-shot with a nameless female reader. No “Y/N” or "you," but the reader can be anyone. Inspired heavily by Taylor Swift’s “Peace.” How many TS references can you find? Lol. Tags: Fluff, Angst (with a happy ending), Mentions of death (but no one dies, I promise), Alcohol, Cigarettes

[Read on AO3]

The rain is always gonna come if you're standing with me... All these people think love’s for show, but I would die for you in secret... Would it be enough, if I could never give you peace? — Taylor Swift, Peace —

When Javier Peña handed in his DEA badge and gun two years ago, he knew he couldn’t stay in Texas. Not forever.

Texas held too many familiar faces, old friends calling him a hero when he felt like a villain. It held too many ties to an old version of himself he’d rather not remember… muddied images of him with a beautiful woman, an abandoned altar, and a shattered promise. No, he couldn’t stay. Not even for his father.

So, Javier Peña and the unwelcomed overcast of his nightmares found a one-bedroom apartment in sunny Los Angeles.

In time, he realized he needed the city: constant motion, endless traffic, and hoards of busy people who would never remember his face. He could blend in. He could be alone.

He could have a clean slate.

But each night, glares of gunshots flashed behind his eyelids and invisible bloodstains marred his calloused palms as if to remind him:

He could never have peace.

Then, she moved in next door.

The first time he saw her, he only caught a glimpse. She and her boyfriend, he assumed, held towering stacks of brown boxes in front of their faces — sweating as they lugged the dusty weight into the empty space.

For a moment, he considered offering some neighborly help but decided against it — When have you ever cared about being a good neighbor, Javi? — closing himself in his quiet apartment with a glass of whiskey.

The second time he saw her, she came knocking on his door the next night.

“Hi, neighbor,” she smiled brilliantly. And for a split second, he swore he felt something foreign flutter in his stomach, but dismissed it as the after-effects of spoiled dinner. “I just moved in next door and wanted to introduce myself.”

He could not take his eyes off her. His gaze stayed glued to a small bead of sweat trailing a slow path down from her hairline, where she’d pulled it back with a makeshift scarf-headband. The droplet slipped down her cheekbone, over a smudge of dust that had settled in from her moving boxes. It drifted down the curve of her jaw, dipping into the slope of her neck until finally hiding away below her tank top. And by some miracle, she only needed to repeat her name for him once before he came out of the trance.

“Sorry.” He gulped, removing the cigarette dangling from his lips. “Javier.”

He extended his hand and she met him halfway. Soft. So soft.

“Good to meet you, Javier.” She smiled again. Flutter. “I’m sure you’re busy. Just wanted to say hi. I’ll see you around.”

And just like that, she swiftly turned on her heel to walk the few steps back to her door, bare feet strutting off, flaunting her daisy dukes, and — God help him, he’s a man and she’s beautiful — he stared.

The nail in the coffin?

When she opened her door and gave him one last smile over her shoulder, she winked.

No, he could never have peace.

—

After that, he hardly ever sees her.

Part of him feels relieved, unduly wary of the strange flutter he’d feel just thinking of her name. The other part, the traitorously curious part, dreams of catching another glimpse of her glistening skin or a quarter note of her honeyed voice. He’ll never admit it out loud, but he finds himself often wondering if her boyfriend gets to enjoy her sun rays and melodies. Lucky bastard.

He blames his roaming thoughts on the fact that it’s… been a while.

This is what you wanted, he’d remind himself when he’d wake to an empty bed — a stark contrast to his time in Colombia. This is the way things should be.

Just when he starts to believe those words, he finds her crumpled on the floor in front of her apartment — the contents of her purse strewn across the hardwood beside her, palms pressed firmly against her eyes. One tiny sniffle and a tremble of her shoulders, and he melts into a puddle beneath her muddy sneakers.

“Hey,” he whispers tentatively, voice raspy with cigarette smoke.

She jolts at the sound, immediately wiping her face with her sleeves and plastering on a saccharine smile.

“Javier,” she tries to say, but her voice breaks on the vowels. “Sorry, I was just— rough day. And to top it off, I think I left my keys inside. I tried Jerry but no luck.”

“Jerry’s a shit landlord,” he sighs, earning a nod from her. He takes out an old, faded receipt from his pocket and kneels in front of her, finding a pen amongst her spilled belongings. “Try this number. He’s usually fast. Can get you back in your apartment tonight.”

He hands her the scribbled receipt and she takes it with a real smile, albeit small. “Thank you, Javier.”

He nods, a tiny dimple forming in one tanned cheek, before getting up to unlock his apartment. The door clicks but he stands there for a moment longer, listening to her waning sniffles as she throws her things back into her bag. His eyes screw shut tightly, a silent war waging behind his forehead, his fingertips feebly trying to rub it away.

He sighs long and heavy when he realizes which part of him has won.

“Would you... like to come inside my place while you wait?” He mutters, mainly to the floorboards. “I’ll put on a pot of coffee.”

“Okay.” Her smile is warm like the sun, despite the cloud of tears still glazed over her eyes. “But you don’t strike me as a cream and sugar kind of guy.”

“No,” he admits with an amused smirk. “But I’ve got some old whiskey, older milk, and a phone you can use, toll-free.”

“Thanks, Javier,” she sniffles. “Coffee sounds nice. But hold the booze and tainted milk.”

And that’s how she ends up in his apartment, sitting at his small dining table, slowly sipping from his coffee mug, using his landline to call the locksmith.

Maybe it’s the caffeine or the three (stolen) pink packets of sugar she found in her purse (“It’s not stealing. Diners offer dozens of them in cute little boxes, I mean practically gift-wrapped, and I modestly accepted three.”), but coffee gets her talking the way alcohol coaxes even the darkest secrets from iron-barred lips. She just broke up with her boyfriend. Or he broke up with her — found some younger, hotter-than-her aspiring actress in Hollywood and left her in the dust of the boxes she’d just unpacked.

“Sorry,” she whispers. “You’ve been so nice. Really, Neighbor of the Year,” she laughs, but he thinks it sounds off. He wants to hear the real thing. “And here I am, taking up your space, drinking your coffee, and dumping all my problems on the table. Tell me if I’m talking too much, Javier. I tend to—”

“Javi,” he says, furrowing his brows as if mildly stunned by the two syllables he just spoke. She looks confused. “You can... call me Javi, for short. And I don’t mind listening.”

“Javi,” she tests the name on her tongue, smiles. His stomach flutters. “A good name for a good guy.”

The argument dies on his tongue the minute he thinks it, even though she’s horribly, terribly wrong.

Sometimes you gotta do bad things to catch bad people.

If she knew...

“I should be out of your hair in 20 minutes anyway,” she says, breaking him out of his dark reverie. “Locksmith’s on his way.”

When she finally gets back into her own apartment, Javi jostles her doorknob, double-checks the lock, and knocks on wood for good measure.

“Find your keys?”

“Got ‘em!” She chirps, jingling her lost keys. “I’m gonna have to memorize that number.”

“I’m next door, too, if you ever need anything.”

“Me too. I can lend you some sugar for your sad-man, bitter coffee,” she jokes. “Thanks again, Javi.”

He sends her a tight-lipped smile and a short nod, a familiar weight settling in his chest as he turns back to his lonely apartment.

“Would you like to come in for dinner?” She asks, quiet and suddenly timid. “I’m no chef, but I’ve never made a spaghetti I couldn’t tolerate.”

He opens his mouth to refuse but she beats him to the punch. “It’s the least I can do after you helped me out. Please?”

And it’s the way she asks that gets him. The way “please” seems to fall from her lips like an unanswered prayer. He wonders, maybe she’s just as lonely as him.

So, he walks into her apartment, she smiles, and his stomach flips.

—

Months pass by with this new routine. He joins her for dinner at least once a week, if their schedules allow. If not at the local diner where she infamously loots sugar, it’s usually at her place. For one thing, although it’s usually pasta, she tends to have more appetizing (read: edible) groceries stocked up than him. But if he’s being honest, something about her apartment just feels more like… a home.

Framed smiles of her and her loved ones line the walls. With each visit, he finds himself studying a new one, imagining the story behind each snapshot. (He noticed after their first dinner, she’d thrown out the photos of her ex, replacing them with Polaroids of the city.) Piles of pillows stack up neatly on her couch, vibrant hues and patterns decorating the space. He adores the soft waves of music always floating around her space. She plays a different record each time, but somehow, each one compliments the sweet tones of her voice perfectly.

Her place feels brighter than his too, and he’s not sure if it’s the east-facing windows or if it’s just her.

Soon, he doesn’t need to decode the photos on the walls anymore. She tells him more than she’s told anyone before — about her hometown, her family, what she studied in college, her travels, her favorite books, her irrational fears, her dreams.

He tells her considerably less, especially when it comes to his time in Colombia.

For now, she doesn’t mind. She likes the way he watches her when she talks — brown eyes soft and warm, brows pinched together as he takes in each word, the ghost of a grin tugging at one corner of his lips when she gestures dramatically.

He realizes, one night after dinner, he comes home smiling now. And he thinks the nightmares have started dwindling, ever since that first dinner.

Maybe, he lets himself imagine. Things could be different.

—

He calls for you over and over, shouting until his throat burns and the echo of his frantic voice pounds in his ears.  

“Where are you?” He screams.  

The narrow hallway is dark, familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. He crushes his body into the hard wall, arms sliding roughly against cold brick as he tries to keep himself concealed. The gun in his hand feels icy and impossibly heavy, and his arms tremble as they lift the weapon higher, rounding the corner.

“Llegas tarde, Peña,” a deep, gravelly voice sneers. “You’re too late.”

“Tómame!” Javier yells. “Tómame en su lugar.”

“You would die for her?” The voice chuckles. “Llegas tarde.”

The voice’s shadow moves, revealing a smaller shadow crumpled on the floor — lifeless.

“Javier! Javier!” A distant voice chants, accusing him. Boom! Blaming him. Boom!

“Javier!” Boom!

The pounding sound wakes him up with a jolt, and his sweat-slicked chest rapidly rises and falls as he reaches for the gun inside his bedside table.

Slowly, Javier creeps to the front door where the loud pounding started. But when he peers into the peephole, he only finds her — looking as tired and distressed as he feels. A wave of relief floods through his overheated body.

She’s wrapped up in a blanket, a worried look wrinkling her forehead.

He puts his gun down in a drawer and lets her in.

“What time is it?” He asks.

“Almost 4 in the morning.”

“What’s wrong?” He demands, suddenly worried about why she’d be waking him this early.

“You tell me,” she says, frown lines still etched by her eyes — mirroring his own tired marks. “I heard you yelling. I was worried, Javi.”

“It was...” he starts, squinting as the images flash in his mind again. “Just a dream.”

It only takes one glance into his eyes for her to reach out to him, pulling him in by his neck until he nuzzles into hers.

He breathes her in, holds her like he’s not sure she’s real, like she might be gone tomorrow. “It was just a dream,” he echoes, but he’s not sure who he’s trying to convince.

“It was just a dream,” she repeats after him.

She pulls him by his hand toward his couch, sitting down before patting the space beside her. And just this once, he allows himself to let his head rest in her lap, lets her drape her fuzzy blanket over him, lets her soft fingers draw slow circles in his hair, lets her lull him to sleep with mumbled whispers he can’t quite make out, and lets her ward off the lurking darkness like a nightlight.

He’s asleep before he can hear the quiet secret that spills from her lips.

“I hope this doesn’t scare you,” she whispers, her fingers still tracing shapes over his head. “But I care about you, Javi, a lot. I think I could fall in love with you someday...” She exhales, a quiet, shaky sound. “I think I’ve already started.”

She comes over to his apartment more frequently after that. Whether to bring him dinner or just sit on his couch in comfortable silence, she doesn’t like to leave him alone.

And maybe, she’d rather not be alone either.

—

He doesn’t remember how she convinced him, but here he is... sitting at a crowded bar drinking water, watching his tipsy neighbor bouncing alone on the small dance floor.

Every so often, some cocky drunk comes up to put his hands on her waist and tries to dance with her, but she plasters on a faux smile and shakes her head at them, muttering something while nodding in Javier’s direction. Each time, they sulk away and he chuckles.

Finally, she bounces over to him, tugging at the sleeve of his leather jacket.

“Dance with me, Javi. Please,” she draws out the word, an octave higher than normal.

And despite himself, he follows her voice like a sailor enthralled by a siren’s song.

She puts her arms around his neck, swaying her body against his. And then she shouts over the music, “I’m so glad we’re friends.”

And the heart on his sleeve falls straight to the floor, clanging loudly in his ears like metal.

‘Friends’ is more than you deserve, he reminds himself.

But then she continues, resting her head against his chest, her index finger coming up to tap a tantalizingly slow beat over his collarbone. “Good friends,” she sighs, lifting her gaze until her chin digs into his heart, her lips just inches from his. “Really… good… friends.”

She’s kissing him before he can even process the feeling. And despite his better judgment, he lets her. She’s everything warm and soft and good, with just a hint of alcohol — and he’s what you get when you turn those words upside down, jumble the letters, and crumple the paper into a jagged ball. But he craves the way her curves somehow fit perfectly against his cold, shattered edges. And he knows he shouldn’t.

So, when he feels her tongue trace along the seam of his mouth, he gently pulls away, hands rubbing soothing circles on her shoulders.

“You’ve had too much to drink, cariño,” he says. “Let’s go home.”

“Okay,” she whispers, smiling with half-lidded eyes, drawing her finger across his mustache then below his ever-pouting lip.

She’s passed out in his car by the time they’re back home. When he unlocks her apartment door for her, she stays latched onto his arm as he turns to leave.

“Stay,” she whispers.

“I—”

“Please?” She asks, in that way he knows he can’t fight. “I don’t want to be alone.”

And just like that, the door closes behind him and he stays.

He finds her an oversized shirt to change into, helps her wipe the smudged mascara off her face, and holds her until the sun rises.

When she wakes, the space beside her is empty but warm and indented, the shape of his body lingering in the sheets. A full glass of water, ibuprofen, and the phantom taste of Javi’s lips are the only other traces of her really… good... friend.

—

He’s not avoiding her… per se. But it’s a long, lonely week later when he sees her again, on an uncharacteristically rainy Sunday outside their apartment building.

“I just got home,” she blurts after standing there dumbfounded for a good minute. She nods to the soaked brown paper bags in her arms. “Groceries. Uh, obviously. Were you...?”

“Forgot my umbrella,” he answers.

“Same,” she chuckles awkwardly, droplets hanging on her lashes and the ends of her hair, only partially covered by her hood. “Obviously.”

“Here, let me help you.” He takes the bags from her, keeping the door open with his foot as he waits for her to head inside.

“Thanks, Javi-er.”

He follows her upstairs silently, his wet, squeaking shoes punctuating each slow and heavy step.

“I can—”

“Let me just—”

They fumble and dance around each other in her doorway as he sets her bags in her apartment. And, as if to torture herself, she decides to stand under her door frame when he leaves to grab his umbrella, waiting the longest minute of her life for him with a forced smile.

He waves his umbrella at her after locking his door. “I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah.”

He nods and walks back down the stairs.

“Javier, wait.”

He pauses, his back still facing her, drenched shoes balanced on two different steps.

“Can we talk?” She hates the way her voice sounds when she asks, tinny and trembling. Clearing her throat, she clarifies, “About what happened... at the bar?”

He sighs, screwing his eyes shut tight and rubbing his forehead.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” he says, low and barely audible as the rain starts picking up outside. And he walks away.

She’s stunned still, watching as his figure shrinks with each step he takes away from her. He’s already out of the building by the time frustration fuels her feet to follow him into the rain.

“Like hell there’s nothing to talk about,” she yells over the downpour, hair quickly sticking flat to her face. “Javi, we kissed!”

“You were drunk,” he says, just loud enough for her to hear, still walking.

“I wasn’t drunk,” she argues to his back, remembering with perfect clarity exactly how his lips felt on hers. “Just a bit braver. Javi, stop! Look at me. Please.”

And like clockwork, he turns slowly but doesn’t move any closer.

So, she closes the distance to stand beside him under his umbrella, taking in his features without the obscurity of rain.

“What are you running from?” She wonders, reaching for his fidgeting hand. “I would never hurt you. I—”

The line between his brows looks deeper than usual, as if they’d been stuck in that pinched position for weeks. Shadows lay in rings beneath his eyes, accompanied by smaller lines that carry untold stories she hopes he’ll entrust her with someday. His mouth is parted just slightly, as if to say something he knows could change everything.

And it does.

“I have to go.”

Her hands are empty and wet when he leaves. And the rain buries his parting words into the pavement.

I don’t want to hurt you.

—

She doesn’t hear from him for two weeks. Doesn’t even catch a glimpse of him.

The rain sticks around longer than usual for Los Angeles, making her apartment feel cold and gloomy. But maybe, it’s just missing him as much as she is.

Then, while she’s folding her laundry one night, she hears his door rattle and practically bolts to her own. He’s there. Keys in hand, rolling luggage in the other, hair tousled like he’s been pulling at it with his fingers. He looks at her when she opens her door, just for a beat too long, before hiding away in his apartment.

She sighs, closing her door in defeat.

But just as she starts getting ready for bed, she hears two knocks at her door, heart beating rapidly as she slowly makes her way to open it.

“Hi, neighbor,” he greets her softly, and the sound of his voice after so long without it nearly brings her to tears.

“Where did you go?” She asks. But she really means, Why did you leave?

“Texas,” he says. “I... needed to see my dad.” But he really means, I was scared.

“Oh.”

“Can I...” he mutters. “Can I come in please?”

She hesitates for only a second before stepping aside and he looks around like he hasn’t seen the inside of her apartment hundreds of times already.

He stops near her bedroom, where a new picture hangs proudly: a goofy, blurry photo of him stashing three pink packets of sugar in his shirt pocket.

“It’s the only photo you’ve let me take of you,” she says quietly, standing next to him with a wistful smile on her face. “I miss our diner dates.” But she really means, I miss you.

He doesn’t respond, just silently walks to her couch and sits, fingers rubbing circles into his forehead.

Minutes roll by slowly as she watches him from the other side of the room, battling with some invisible hand covering his mouth, holding on until the end to keep the words locked up.

“I’m not a good man,” he whispers, so softly she almost doesn’t hear it. “I’ve done things I’m not proud of... back in Colombia. I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready to tell you. I think a part of me is still there, fighting some unwinnable war. Hell, even before Colombia, I—”

Muddied images of a beautiful woman, an abandoned altar, and a shattered promise flash in his mind.

“Fuck. I can’t shake it,” he says, looking up at her with red-rimmed eyes, waving the invisible iron shackles on his wrists to show her. “Any of it. The nightmares...” He recalls her shadowy body and a dark, menacing voice. “They’ve followed me for years. I—” he looks at her, eyes darting across her face. “I could never give you peace.”

His head hangs low and a wayward curl brushes against his forehead. Despite how much space he takes up on her couch, he looks so small, defeated —  the weight of his past crushing him into this tiny, torn, crumpled-up piece of paper covered in red-inked, scratched-out sentences.

“Javi,” she whispers, but he doesn’t meet her eyes. So, she crosses the room and kneels in front of him, her palms reaching for his cheeks and lifting his gaze to hers. “Javi, who said anything about peace?”

The wrinkles deepen between his brows as he studies her, tries to understand what she means in the cloudy orbs of her eyes.

“The past is the past. We’ve all done things we can’t speak of. And sometimes at night, we live it all again. God knows I’m far from perfect. But I know you’re a good man, Javi. I see you,” she tells him, stroking the curves of his cheekbones with her thumbs.

“I’m not—”

“Do you trust me?” She interrupts his argument. He stares at her, blinks, before nodding once.

“Then trust what I’m saying. You’re not perfect. But you’re good.”

His eyes close as soon as she sees water beginning to pool behind his lashes.

“I’m not asking for peace. As long as I get to be with you, it would be enough.”

And then his lips are crashing into hers, pulling her into his lap until he’s covered in her. The sound he makes when they touch is devastatingly beautiful, like she’s a balm soothing his freshest wounds and healing his oldest scars. It feels like his entire body has exhaled — lungs deflated, bones liquified, mind released from a decades-old straitjacket. If not for gravity, he could float from the way his stomach is fluttering. His shoulders lower and he sighs as if he’d been holding his breath for his entire life until this moment.

He’s drowning in her, submerged to the top of his head. But he can finally breathe.

“I’m sorry I ran,” he whispers into her skin. “I’m sorry I left, cariño,” he kisses just below her ear. “My dad said I was the biggest asshole on the planet for leaving. I’m sorry, baby. So sorry,” he licks the seam of her lips.

“Mi alma, you have no idea,” he sighs when she parts her lips for him. “How much I love you.”

And she captures the words on her tongue, kissing him with a ferocity that says, Yes, I do.

“Want to know a secret?” She gasps when his lips trail down her neck. Her voice is barely a whisper, as feather-light as her fingertip skating across his shoulder.

He hums, a soft, lazy smile stretching his lips wide, so wide.

“I don’t think it’s possible,” she says, staring into his deep brown eyes. “That I’ll ever love anyone more than I love you, Javi.”

Her finger stops, retracted to shield herself after such a heavy confession. His eyes blink slowly, head lifting off the couch cushion.

He doesn’t say a word. He only stares at her, the softest smile on his face — his edges blurring into gentle curves in front of her very eyes.

“You’re it for me,” she finalizes.

And then they’re crashing into each other again and again and again.

End Notes: Look, it’s been almost 10 years since I sat in a Spanish class and watching Narcos only restored 3% of my limited vocabulary. Here’s what I got from Google Translate: “Llegas tarde.” = You’re too late. “Tómame!/ Tómame en su lugar.” = Take me!/ Take me instead. “Cariño” = Darling, honey “Mi alma” = My soul P.S. Please let me know if I missed any tags/triggers!

[lre333]

~ auri eos for love at mua pe’lam bc ~

🎼she was a one-eyed no-horned flightless pescatarian🎶

name : auri eos pronouns : she / her sexuality : bisexual , homoromantic age : YA occult : island cyclops aspiration : renaissance sim  traits : lazy , creative , bookworm

background : auri was still small when she was lured by a mischievous faun from the caves deep within the islands mountains - (he would have been lunch were it not for the hypnotic melody that put her easily into trance) - the faun hadn’t any intention to steal young auri away from home but cyclops’ aren’t typically known for their smarts , so he took pity when he realized she didn’t know her way back to her cave - since he definitely didn’t want to go back there in time for dinner , he decided to enchant her with enhanced intelligence that she might help herself back home - instead , she grew more curious about the new world around her and welcomed herself to understand it better ~ her faun-friend stuck around for the ride to introduce auri to all manner of delight and debauchery , though he can hardly convince her to seek his kind of adventure outside of books ~

question for vivianne : 

is there anything you want to do that you haven’t yet ?

do you have any persistent fears ?

what is your favorite color of sky ? 💌

@wastelandwhisperer​ ​

[atinydise]

Ateez realizing they’re in love with their s/o while working on a duet

❦ Genre: Fluff.

❦ Pairing: OT8.

❦ Word count: 11k5.

❦ Requested: Yes, thank you! 🦋

❦ Masterlist.

HONGJOONG

Hongjoong was spinning around, on his chair. He was thinking about the lyrics he needed to write for Eden. He didn’t want to disappoint him, so he did his best, as always. Knowing that your best friend was busy and stressed, you came at his studio to support him or help him as you could. “Is that a love song?” You asked, reading the first verse. “Yes, it is a summer love song. Like the person you met in vacation and developed feelings.” “There’s a ton of summer love song Joongie.” You warned. “Why not a love song about friendship?” you proposed. “I-I don’t know how it feels,” he stuttered. “Hum… I’ll help you.” You grabbed a pen and a paper and started to write few sentences that he could turn as lyrics.

Hongjoong looked at you, struggling, but he found you cute. You tied your hair in a messy bun and few hairs were falling on your face. Hongjoong could say that you were completely focus because you were chewing the pen and your fingers were lost in your hair. “You never felt this feeling? Like this person that you consider like your best friend is more than that? You think about this person all the time and want to see her every day?” You asked him. Hongjoong ignored if it was the sudden proximity or the way you looked so cute, but he realized that he might feel what you just explained. “Or the feelings like what you could do everything with this person? That both of you can fight the world, together?” You added. Hongjoong continued to stare at you, “yes I probably did.” “Then let’s go write about it!” you smiled, enthusiastically. “I feel like it will be easier to write good lyrics if you there.” He claimed, grabbing his notebook. You didn’t fully understand what he wanted to say but you liked it.

SEONGHWA

Seonghwa was working with another idol for a special performance at MMA. This opportunity was incredible for him so you tried to help your friend the best as you could. You knocked at the practice room door and entered instantly. “Oh Y/N!” said Seonghwa when he saw you. “Hello beautiful! I’m here to help you!” You greeted him enthusiastically, “let’s practice!” “You don’t even know how to sing idiot.” He teased you. “Bla bla bla,” you rolled your eyes, “I heard that your duo was busy today. So, I’ll do my best to help you.” “Okay then… tell me how I can change the last verse. I want it to be more…” he stopped to search for the good word. You grabbed the paper in front of you. “More tender? Soft?” “Exactly,” he snapped his fingers at you. “You are just talking about how you fell in love but not what you like about her or him. You can add more physicals details. So, your fans could relate a lot more.” You explained. “Hum… that would be good idea.” Nodded Seonghwa. “If I was your girlfriend for example, what would you like?” Seonghwa blushed lightly, the idea of you being his girlfriend didn’t bother him at all. “I guess that I would love how you are always so supportive and funny even if your jokes are… not really good.” He chuckled. “I would love how you are kind with everyone even if they don’t deserve it. I love seeing you playing with your hair. Your eyes are always sparkling too, even if you are sad. This is beautiful to see.” He gulped. “I could stare at you for long hours.” “And finally… being next to you is my favorite thing. Your perfume is addictive, and your presence is warm.” he said quietly. “Hum… okay,” you giggled. “I think that you found enough details to write your lyrics.” He nodded, “yes. And I think I found something else too.” He whispered, enough for you to not hearing it.

YUNHO

“Argh… why composing is so hard!” Sighed Yunho sitting between you and Mingi on the couch. “Are you inspired?” asked Mingi, watching TV at the same time. “Not at all… I don’t know how Hongjoong Hyung can think about good lyrics all the time.” Declared Yunho. “Why you don’t go and ask him for help?” you asked grabbing his large hand to massage it. “I need to do it by myself.” He simply replied. “I’ve never been in love or I don’t know how it really feels.” “My mom told me that you feel full every time. Like if you ate a good meal.” Said Mingi cutely. You giggled, “yes, kind of.” Yunho sighed and rested his head on your laps. “How should I start? Or what I should do?” “Maybe you can describe what would be your favorite date?” proposed Mingi. “Hum nah… to kitschy.” You stopped your friend. “I think that the melody would need to stay soft and cute but with a powerful chorus or bridge.” “Yes maybe,” he sighed. “Like a smooth melody,” you rubbed his hand softly like if it became a piano. “Plus, it’s a duet so you can use your voice to set the atmosphere too and create a surprising effect.” You added. Yunho was staring at your fingers playing on his hand. The smoothness of your digits made his heart race unexpectedly. “But… you both now better than me anyway,” you said awkwardly. Mingi pocked Yunho’s waist, noticing that he was still on this trance. “Huh? Yes! Thank you!” He almost yelled. Yunho stood up and almost ran back to his bedroom. You stared back at Mingi, “is he okay? Did I say something bad?” He smiled, “no. I think he just realized something. Finally.”

YEOSANG

You had this little argument earlier with Yeosang. He said something that hurt your feelings a bit and didn’t apologize yet. He noticed that you were mad because you were quiet. You stayed on the couch, looking at the ceiling. Since the past hour, none of you started to talk. Yeosang was humming alone. He needed to write his part for the new comeback. It wasn’t a romantic song but a simple one talking about friendship. Funny when you see the context. Yeosang threw once again a ball of paper in the trash and buried his head on his arms, frustrated. Not liking to see your best friend so anxious, you asked him: “No inspiration?” He hummed, “nothing matches with the beat. I can’t do anything right.” You stood up from the couch and crouched down next to Yeosang. You felt him jump a bit when he felt your hand rubbing his back. “You can do it Yeosang-ie. You are so talented. You just need to find the good words.” You cheered him gently. He sighed, lifting his head a bit, “it would be easier to do this duet with you and not a stranger.” “I know but I’m not an idol.” You giggled, hugging him. Yeosang felt instantly relaxed. Your presence was always so warm. “Why everything is so simple with you?” “Just relax and the aspiration will hit you,” you added. His heart was racing. It wasn’t the first time that you were hugging him but today it felt different. “Oh! I need to go,” you looked at the clock. “What already?” He pouted. “See you tomorrow, okay?” You kissed his forehead. “Love you!” You wave at him exiting the room. “I love you too…” he whispered. “And maybe more than I thought.” He added, hand on his chest trying to calm his heartbeat.

SAN

You desperately wanted to watch a new avenger at cinema. It was available few days left, or you would need to see it on your TV. You asked San, your childhood best friend to come with you but he needed to finish his production first. So, you were dancing crazily in the studio. Your friend was jamming and composing in the same time. You were supposed to help him, but his playlist was not helping. “Y/N, weren’t you supposed to write lyrics with me?” he giggled, seeing your failed silly twerk. “I know, but I need to dance! It’s like you played all my favorite songs!” you explained. San was staring at you. Not like a friend would but like a lover would. All these years, he saw you growing up with him and he discovered how amazing you were. “Oh! Sing with me!” You ordered him, pulling San by the hand. He giggled, “no I can’t I need to focus on it if you want to watch your movie.” “Well okay…” You stopped the music and sat next to him, “let’s go.” San handed you the lyrics he already wrote. You put all your attention on it. “It’s terrible,” he claimed. You shushed him, finger on his lip and continued to read. “They’re pretty good already!” You exclaimed. “I like how you compared the first and innocent love story to a powerful and hot volcano.” He blushed a bit, “ah really?” “Yes!” You wrapped your arm around his shoulders, giggling next to his ear. “You’re a genius! Not many people can compare these 2 things.” “I guess I had a good inspiration,” he whispered, trying to hide his red cheeks. “I think you just need to add a little more of feelings, so people could relate. Okay?” you mentioned. He nodded, “thank you.” “Anytime,” you smiled. San hesitate at first, but he finally asked. “Do you want to go on a walk someday? At the Han River?” “It feels like a date invitation,” you chuckled, ignoring that it was a real one. San gulped, for sure something changed for him.

MINGI

“Song Mingi Focus on your work!” You scolded your friend again. “I’m trying but you are breathing crazily!” he replied. Instinctively, you threw a ball of paper right at the back of his head. “Don’t scold me while you are the only one who’s doing his work at the last minute.” Lucky for him, you didn’t see the way his eyes rolled, or you would throw the whole notebook. Mingi needed to write a rap verse for a duet that he would perform with Kevin from TheBoyz. Sadly, because of his schedule and his laziness, he didn’t write anything. He called you at 2AM to help him since Hongjoong was busy with his individual schedule. And he would probably kill him too. “Do you have any idea about what Kevin could have wrote?” you asked, laying on your back, staring at the ceiling. “I know that he’s the one who need ‘to confess’ the first.” He sighed, leaving his desk to join you on his bed. “So, you need a powerful verse. Something that could really attract your fan.” You claimed, rolling in his side, resting your head on his shoulder. Mingi froze. These days, he felt shy toward you every time you were to close to him. He was used to you being clingy time to time, but it never bothered him or made him feel this way. “Maybe, you could sing and not rap. It could be nice.” You giggled. He played with your hair, removing it from your face. “I could give a try,” he smiled. You coughed, a bit before rapping, imitating his deep voice. “Ayo! I’m in love with you! Would you let me date you? I’m your Romeo so please be my Juliette for the good sake! Draaah!” Mingi laughed so hard, next to you, “that was terrible.!” Unexpectedly, he wrapped his arm around you to pull you in a tight hug. “I know that you like when I imitate you!” You giggled in his arms. “Yes, I do,” he whispered, enjoying you being so close. “I like it a lot.”

WOOYOUNG

Wooyoung was stuck in the vocal room for 3 hours now. The inspiration wasn’t coming at all today. He buried his head on his arms, sighing and claiming that he was a loser who couldn’t write. “You will find something good Wooyoung-ie.” You reassured him. “It’s been 3 hours, and nothing came yet!” He replied, disappointed. You put your phone on a side and next to your best friend. “Come one… it shouldn’t be too hard to write love songs. It’s always the same thing…” you declared. “For you maybe…” You sighed, you really needed to find a way of comforting him. “What about a kitschy brainstorm?” you asked. “Oh? Why not,” he accepted. “Ok, I start,” you smiled happily. “Oppa*… is your father a thief?” “Hum… no why?” he simply replied, cringing a bit at the nickname you chose. “Because he stole all the stars to put it on your eyes.” “Cringyyyyy,” he laughed. “But okay, it was a good one.” You smirked, proudly “I know. Your turn now.” “Okay.” He coughed, preparing mentally. “Y/N… if I was a policeman, I would arrest you instantly. For an excessive beauty limit.” You faked to throw up and pinched his arm, “good one but I didn’t say my last words.” You grabbed his hands, “Wooyoung-ie. You know why I’m the luckiest girl in the world?” “Why?” he raised a brow, feeling his hands becoming moist. “Because I have you in my life.” You declared, looking right at him. Wooyoung blushed instantly and his breathe became heavier. “Seems like I won!” you shouted happily. Your friend balbutiated few words but finally managed to say: “You should go back at home okay! It’s late! Call a taxi and stage okay?” He practically threw your jacket at you and pulled you out of the vocal room. “Ouch! Wooyoung! Your inspiration, you-“ “Yes yes! See you later!” he greeted you before slamming the door right at your face. He left himself slide against the door frame. “What is happening to you Wooyoung?” he whispered, panicking a bit.

*Oppa: literally means “older brother of a female person”. Older brother, very close friend who is older (but not much older!), romantic interest, boyfriend, and sometimes even husband, if they are older.

JONGHO

Jongho was busy the whole week. It was your childhood birthday and he couldn’t manage to spend some time with you. So, if he couldn’t come to the party, the party would come to him. Without even knocking, you entered his bedroom. “Hello Choi Jongho!” He blinked a bit trying to know why you made this fabulous entry. “What are you doing here idiot?” he giggled. “I don’t want you to get all the fun alone,” you said sarcastically, putting delicately the cake on his bed. “It’s not fun at all, I need to find good lyrics, but I need more lessons.” “Did you tried to play guitar in the same time?” It could inspire you.” You said, looking for the lighter. “Yes, I tried to, but nothing fits well.” He stared at you, struggling to light the cake. “Do it again! I want to hear it and at least I can give you my opinion.” You smiled widely. “Okay, if you say.” He accepted, grabbing carefully his guitar, humming the melody. While he was searching for the perfect lyrics, you settled the cake at the center of the bed. You hung up a little birthday banner on the bedhead and listened Jongho, carefully. The maknae loved the atmosphere you prepared. He managed to sing a full verse just by looking at you. Being here for him. As always. “That was pretty good Jongho!” You are just too hard with yourself.” “Probably!” he smiled shyly. You patted the bed, making him understand to sit here, “come here so we can blow our candles.” He nodded and joined you. “Let’s wish to stay together forever okay?” you smiled. “That’s everything I want.” He replied. “More than anything.”

[legendoftheghost]

Every bloom that takes place is cause for celebrations, where the streets were once barren now are full of people. All of them wishing to partake in the festivities, the rare sighting to see that of the Geisha who smiles && charms with ease. Yet, it is here in seclusion does she find time to exhale, somewhere far from the public eye. Her heart stops beating if only momentarily, only for her to exhale in relief. "I thought you were one of my peers" beckoning him to come closer, warmth cascades over her moonlit features. "There is excitement come the turning of seasons, are you not one for festivities?" she laughs so sweet && melodious. Her shoulders leaning back as ease cascades around her, "I am happy to see you once more, Jin, especially on such a wonderous occasion" though she does not move Sayuri's figure remains close. "Will you join me this evening? Nothing would bring me more joy than to have your company"

Random Inbox Shenanigans || @hanakarii || always accepting! 

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ || Death sits in the corner of Jin Sakai’s gaze; a swollen shadow that hovers above the floor, leaning its cold weight against an edge and the walls weep. The room tasting of sour copper and corroded iron and he cannot sleep. If his eyes were to open, if there had been a mistake and there is one more breath to break this silence, and he is not here to hear it, what if all those perished before him asks for his absent being? The glacier winters he holds deep in his calcified, hardened heart, along with the spreading sanguine forever tucks into his horo as he lay motionless, the moribund tapestry of sure death sinking upon his pallid countenance. And for so long, he would lay alone on the bedroll; half-bare like late spring, eyes closed and heatwave of his suffering writhed in the valley of his spine. With humid breath, a summer wind over rippling planes of his visible ribs, as his fingertips graze on grassy hills, and every lightning strike from his stormy mouth, alighting his skin like hot spell. Jin Sakai reduced nothing more than tingling flesh and racing heart beneath the trembling throes of attentiveness and oblivion. 

The world as of ephemeral light of the candlelights threatened to be extinguished as the symphony of luminescence overwhelmed the senses in burning strokes of feverous inferno. Yet, beneath the waning moon and a frail blanket and a savior whom he had to part in bittersweet farewell, once dying, pulverized world of Tsushima rebirthed to become the mainland, and with a new version of reality and stallion-mind aspirations leading him towards Jin Sakai’s well-deserved reinvention, even in the unending rush of trials and tribulations, he had grown to accept and appreciate exquisitely beautiful moments in time that seemingly come into his live out of nowhere. In this cruel, vicious world where Jin Sakai’s privilege and right had been endangered from his youth, to be wanted into extinction and to be desired into oblivion, the fugitive of the Shogunate continued to inevitably transgress, forging himself in self-destruction, in order to relearn old habits and build his shinobi clan of Sakai. 

Jin Sakai would grow in solitude; a flower only allowed to look at the Sun through the window. It’s no wonder that he yearns to look to the lights. For there is nothing more important than sunshine. In his loneliness, he has cultivated it. His inner brightness would beam out - along the walls, stars shining down at him. He does not stare at the ghoul in the mirror long enough; it is his inner demon that seeks to scorch him into the inevitable darkness, the charcoal soot that would smear multitudes over his heart and soul, until he breathed flesh-burning smoke. How he would flinch so violently at the deep introspection of his thoughts, daring to disturb the plethora of sakura petals falling from grace, as if his blood had been blistering his veins as his transported gaze will plunge him deep in the throes of his melancholia. How the endless silence of the finite life he used to have threatens to caress him into oblivion. Perhaps it would be such a beautiful mercy to be forgotten, as he disintegrate into the universe as he becomes nothing and weightless. 

As a familiar feature gradually stirs him away from the deep trance, Jin Sakai’s beating heart throbs, both in lingering excruciating pain and a radiance of burning star. With utmost curiosity as his eyes become shimmering bright, the gentle, scarred feature of his visage nodding in delight. “The jovial festivities were driven away from my world at such a young age, that I seem to forget that the happiness of my life entirely depends upon the quality of my thoughts,” perhaps it was misfortune or a series of melodramatic tragedies that encased him in a rotted box full of darkness, but Jin Sakai would never let himself lost in his proverbial terror, as he plunges towards an endless fall. For he would always learn from yesterday, live for today, and hope for tomorrow. A tenderhearted reflection of his own gentle smile mirrors that of the Geisha’s, as once tiresome, static-filled mind races with zephyr noise and sharpened coherence. “Unanticipated meetings are the best, and how it brings such unfathomable warmth in my heart and soul - for they become a little more free from the weighing down emotions of fear and grief.” 

Perhaps this was his overwhelming sense of numbness and the desire for anything that can help him make it from one day to the next, as his doggone exhaustion saturates, yet brightens simultaneously the scintillation of his brightened gaze. “It would entirely depend on what kind of plans you have in store, I’m afraid -” Jin jests, with his inquisitorial polished stone of his hardened gaze visibly softening, lowering his vigilance and guard. Hope, manifests itself as the giver of life, and in Jin Sakai’s eventful life, the ensured surge will always catapult him to work himself harder, even in a world ripe with judgment and pain. “Although, I have no question in mind that our reciprocated company will satiate both our hearts and soul.” ▬▬ι═══════ﺤ || 

[smuttymess]

bts astro soulmate reading | for elliot

This reading is for Elliot, a very sweet Yoonjin bias who sometimes (often) finds himself thinking about Kim Taehyung. Can you blame him? Thank you so much for your patience, love. I hope you enjoy and are staying safe a well. <3

A Cancer Sun and Libra Moon makes for a very mysterious, contradictory personality, with Cancer existing on a highly emotional and reserved plane while Libra yearns to roam, explore and adapt to their surroundings. You are all at once highly sociable, deeply enjoying the company of others, and private - often swimming away on your own to escape the harsh realities of the world - enjoying  a cozy night in with a good book or podcast almost as much as a delicious dinner out with a large group of friends and acquaintances. Those who don't know you well may accuse you of being a bit unsteady, seeing all the ways in which you adapt to your surrounding and feed off of others energies. Your close friends and family know that you are just water and air, constantly seeking balance and harmony in your relationships above all else. All three of your placements are geared towards security and balance, and at your core you crave stability and a strong foundation in your home that is calming, peaceful and without too much tension or unpleasantness. It is because of this that you are drawn to creative artistic pursuits, though you likely hold a more traditional full time job to ensure you are financially secure and comfortable. Those possessing your star placements are innately empathetic, nurturing of others and self-critical of self. While your Virgo rising lends itself to additional self-criticism, towards others you are incredibly soft, sentimental, and supportive - if only you showed more gentleness towards yourself! It is likely that you are loved by many, serving as a strong emotional refuge for family and friends alike, who admire your compassionate, trustworthy and purposeful nature.

A true lover of life's simple wonders, you are likely to gravitate towards the arts, spending your free time exploring museums, galleries, concerts, and any other large gathering around creative ideals. On one particular early fall afternoon while exploring an outdoor exhibit in the city with friends, your eyes gravitate towards a man playing a piano in the square. His presence is magnetic to you, your eyes immediately  drawn to his slouched posture as his fingers stroke each key, his face covered by short, black hair and a black cap. The shadow of the mysterious figure piques your curiosity, enough for you to approach him to have a closer listen, the melody floating through the crisp air of the changing seasons. It is almost as if in that moment nobody else is in the square - just you, the music and the mysterious gentleman - until his fingers stop moving, as if breaking from a trance. Fully immersed in his own world, he doesn't notice you standing there until several minutes later, his dark eyes moving to meet yours in a moment of instant attraction, one that only two water signs could possess.

Imagine your surprise when you find out that the presumably down-and-out aspiring artist is actually the esteemed Min Yoongi, a fact that he conceals until you're on your second or third date.

Ever the optimist and hopeless romantic, your Cancer Sun lives to love and be loved, both platonically and romantically - longing for a partnership that is all encompassing. This is amplified by your Venus in Leo, which makes you a lover of big love (think grand displays of affection, gift giving, and passionate quality time.) You want to spoil a partner, seeing no reason to skimp or cut corners for the people you love and expecting the same adoration in return. This is especially true once you fall hard, as it often takes some time for people to get past the barriers of your outwardly serious Virgo rising and your impenetrable deeper Cancer shell. At first you will keep your feelings close, waiting for the other party to reveal themselves to be genuinely trustworthy and open before letting them into your inner world. Once in love, you want to pull out all the stops, becoming the most nurturing, adoring lover - almost as if making up for lost time of keeping your emotions reigned in for so long. Yoongi's Pisces is also cautious in love, but it does not take long for him to show the range of his emotions, his romantic energy and empathy all at once making you feel secure and understood in ways that you do not often experience with other signs - signaling that it is okay to open up and be vulnerable. You are drawn to Yoongi's artistry that flows out of him, the sparseness of his words that hold meaning in every syllable, and he adores your compassionate nature - thinking of you as a true friend and companion, though the connection is very much a romantic one. A Cancer and Pisces are likely to spend countless hours tangled up in their sheets, hands softly caressing every inch of each other before even becoming overtly sexual. This is a duo that is incredibly intimate, enjoying savoring each and every delicious moment in each other's company and romantic spirits. You could undoubtedly spend the rest of your life laying next to Yoongi as his fingers graze your hair, cheek and neck, sweet nothings pouring into your ear. You naturally connect on an innately intimate level, the tone of his voice enough to rile you up long before his long, skilled fingers even begin to move down past your neck, chest and belly button. In bed, Yoongi brings a gentleness alongside just the right amount of kink to set you on fire.

Your desire for romance cannot be outweighed, however, by stability and comfort. A Cancer, while a hopeless romantic, is not excited by the idea of a tumultuous, unpredictable love wherein.spontaneity reigns. While you are ruled by water as a Cancer, your Libra heart and Virgo moon crave balance and relative predictability - something that our Pisces Yoongi wants but often escapes him in his quest for greatness. Yoongi's Venus is in Aries, making his love is a bit more impulsive and spontaneous, Ultimately, after many nights in bed alone with your partner huddled in his studio, you realize that Yoongi's more free-flowing Pisces spirit proves to be a bit too fluid for your Cancer heart. The dissolution of this relationship is extremely challenging given your shared emotional depths, and there is surely a continuation of the relationship via long, late night phone calls and sentimental texts until one of you breaks it off to preserve your sanity and wellbeing. This is a pairing that makes a lifelong, profound impact on each other, likely prompting Yoongi to write some of his best work to date.

A Cancer Sun and Libra Moon is not likely to be single for too long, very much preferring the company of a romantic partner to single life. Luckily for you, people are inherently drawn to your warmth, which lies beneath the surface of your Virgo rising but is quickly detectable by some. You're happy to find yourself approached by a handsome stranger while browsing through an indie record shop downtown, his fingers floating across the top of the album you've taken interest in. That's a great album, are you a fan? You aren't sure how long you are in the shop chatting up the boy, who introduces himself as Kim Namjoon, before you're off to grab a coffee at a nearby cafe.

It takes many months of seeing Namjoon the Virgo - who would prefer to be alone with a good book than in the presence of bad company - to reveal a more emotional side of himself. Despite approaching you first, Namjoon is not exactly suave, his endearingly goofy mannerisms a result of his high level of independence and time spent in solitude away from prying eyes. This relationship begins as more of a friendship with two generally cautious people tiptoeing around their emotions, wondering who is going to take the risk of revealing their true self first. But after some time it becomes clear that his more business-like, stoic Virgo exterior does not stand much of a chance against the depths of your Cancer emotion and Libra charm. When partnered, you are your person's biggest cheerleader, and it is your emotional range and empathic powers that can successfully soften the coldest heart as you only see the good in others - never the bad. Early on, much of the relationship is spent with you intently listening to his ramblings or championing his many professional creative endeavors - his words like poetry to you as he workshops new lyrics, projects, or his dreams of the future that he will so clearly put into action as a result of his . The Virgo is happy to open his mind to you over countless walks along the river or through lush parks outside of the city, a bond forming from your desire to be needed and wanted if even as a supportive listener. He senses your genuine interest in his thoughts - not for his status as a celebrity but who he is as a person. Your empathic qualities, while natural to you, are also a form of protection against getting hurt: speak less frequently, and you won't need to reveal many of your insecurities around your own potential. More than anything, Namjoon wants you to open up and let him in to your world. your innate strengths and talents, bringing you away from all of your negative self-talk and doubt around your abilities - something he can relate to deeply as a Virgo Sun. Maybe it is the warmth of his brown eyes as he tells you how special you are, or the way the sun rays perfectly hit his brown hair, but you can't help but believe him.

Once you are able to move into understanding on a deeper level, you find that Namjoon is one of the most sentimental, loyal people you've ever known. Namjoon's Venus is in Scorpio, meaning that despite any hurt he has experienced in the past, he is a true romantic at his core, looking for his one true love and willing to devote it all to that special person. The Scorpio is notably possessive in love, which serves to both frustrate and excite you in just the right ways. While your Libra moon may be naturally flirtatious, Namjoon is the one that holds your heart, and you enjoy being consumed by his love through song and writing - with his Mercury in Libra, you are likely to be his muse in all things creative. This is a pairing that can spend endless hours nestled in bed reading a book, bouncing ideas off of each other, and exploring each other's hearts before diving into the physical. You, Cancer, are the sexual initiator, wanting to know him body and soul - exposing him to an entirely new emotional plane of sexual connection. For the Virgo man, sex is often just another thing to be skilled at, and you are able to expose the innately vulnerable, emotional, and outwardly animalistic nature of his sexuality. The sexual relationship between these two is almost transcendent, with you taking the reins as the boss to show him the ropes, allowing him to unlock a different side to himself and learn how to please you. As someone who gets off to the idea of learning and achieving, expect marathon sessions in each other's arms (and mouths).

Ultimately, Namjoon is the member best able to bring you the stability you crave alongside an unwavering emotional commitment, with an earthly ability to firmly ground you when you are lost at sea. He will allow you to swim into your solitude - as you need from time to time - but you can rest easily that he will always be there when you are ready to return to reality. More than anything Namjoon is a provider, his mind working over time to help you solve your problems and achieve your dreams with his quintessential Virgo intelligence and flare, likely pushing you to pursue your creative ideas full-time instead of shying away from your potential and making sure you have everything to feel secure. You are someone who becomes a better person when in love, flourishing under others affection, and with Namjoon you have a special opportunity to truly come into yourself and achieve more than you ever imagined. Meanwhile, you provide a level of nurturing that he so deeply desires and a softness that he so desperately needs and few others can provide. In this partnership, you are the caretaker of the physical and emotional realm, while he is a provider in a more literal sense: making sure you have everything you need financially to create a sanctuary home base curated for the two of you to create and restore yourselves when the day is done. This is a duo that is steadfast and secure, prioritizing home and family and partnership over frivolity and spontaneity, appreciating travel and gallery openings abroad but also knowing how to take comfort at home with nights in and a vinyl on a record player. It is in this secure, stable lifestyle that you are both stimulating and fulfilled. Overall, this astrological pairing is comprised of two very synchronized and amenable plane, existing on a very calm, comforting foundation that is impossible to shake.

[maerrybom]

Quiet Day

just a tiny moment with the team and chisei accompanying them in chizuru before everything happened ;’)

found in masterlist

Sol’s Diary - Entry 2

These were one of those quiet days I enjoyed the most.

The gentle hum of the wind and the sweet melody sang by the birds gave me peace as I stood underneath a cherry blossom tree. Chizuru was as gorgeous as a sunny day, bright and welcoming to life. I awed at the sight before me, twirling in a circle with my arms spread out as the kimono danced with my movements.

Luminous joined me with glee as we both laughed and twirled, swaying along with the petals that whirled around us. Johann, Caesar & Chisei watched us both with amused smiles on their faces.

“Woah!” Luminous yelled as he tripped over on his own feet.

Gasping softly, I went over to his fallen form and helped the poor boy up. Luminous gladly accepted my hand and whined as he held his lower back in slight pain.

“Are you okay?” Even though I knew he’s perfectly fine, I still can’t help but get concerned over him sometimes.

“Ah, yes.” The brunette replied, scratching his cheek in embarrassment. “Thanks Sol.”

Once he turned his head up towards me, I gave him a gentle smile to display my relief but he only looked back in disappointment.

“What’s wrong?”

“...I don’t understand how you’re so tall.” Luminous pouted, crossing his arms like a child. “I’m supposed to be older than you and you’re almost taller than all girls I know.”

Eh? I didn’t think he knew more girls other than Nono and I. Besides that, I wasn’t that taller than him. We were only a few inches apart. So, I smiled awkwardly, unsure of what to respond.

“No need to be so sour, Luminous.” Caesar came over to us and stood by my side. “You can’t blame genetics that she was blessed with out of pure jealousy. It’s not a good look on you.”

“I’m not jealous!”

Johann then joined in and turned to me. “Well judging from the information listed in your profile, the database has ranked you as one of the tallest female students in Cassel. You could also easily become a model or perhaps a flight attendant.”

Huh? I understand how students are ranked by talent, but they ranked us in height too? Also, a model? A flight attendant? Johann tends to speak about random things at times, but this might have been the strangest things I’ve heard from him. I gave Johann an unsure smile but he only responded with a stoic, nonchalant expression on his face.

“I don’t think so,” I disagreed, shaking my head. “I think my looks and body are average for a model. I also have a fear of heights, so I don’t think it’ll work out.”

Flying to Japan for the mission was already a nightmare to deal with. No thanks.

“You need to be more confident Sol!” Caesar dramatically exclaimed, grasping my shoulders and shook me gently before letting me go. “You’d be a perfect model. Should I consider you to take modelling lessons then?”

“Please allow me to say no, senior.” I quickly answered, smiling at the blonde politely.

Johann let out a subtle huff and turned away from us momentarily. He seemed to have appreciated my immediate rejection to Caesar’s offer.

“Y-You! Are you laughing at me?”

“...I’m not.”

“I may also have to disagree with you Miss Sol,” I switched my gaze towards the High Patriarch who’s been quietly enjoying the exchange. “Your lovely features and the aura you carry brings life to your surroundings. It’s not often you’d meet a natural beauty like you. That’s why I chose the kimono you’re currently wearing for you since it brings out your beauty further.”

The rush of blood flooded my cheeks, making them flush a deeper red than they naturally were. I didn’t expect Chisei to openly compliment someone like that—someone like me. I’ve always thought he was a serious and dedicated man due to his position in the Hydra Clan, but I might be wrong.

“Thank you, High Patriarch.” I replied after a quick moment of silence, smiling at Chisei. “Thank you for also being kind to me and my friends. I truly appreciate it.”

“Of course, but please just call me Chisei.”

“Oh, uh—” I stammered out of nervousness. “Then please just call me Sol, Chisei.”

“As you wish, Sol.” Chisei’s subtle smile almost sent me screaming, but I kept my composure nonetheless. I didn’t think he was this charming either.

“Psst...” Luminous whispered over to Caesar. “Are we interrupting something?”

“...”

“Shall we head back?” Chisei turned to the others.

“Yes, let’s go.” Caesar replied instantly, making me stare at the blank expression on his face. Did something happen?

Both of them lead the way as Caesar and Chisei had a conversation between themselves. The three of us stood behind them with Johann and Luminous by my sides.

“Do you think we can go back here?” Luminous asked, looking at the both of us.

“Maybe.” Johann responded.

They both spoke together with Luminous doing most of the talking as I was left alone in my thoughts. My eyes wandered at the back of Caesar’s head for some reason. The expression he gave off earlier was a little strange, even though he’s back to his prideful self and is currently laughing right now with Chisei. I still felt bad for rejecting Caesar’s offer but I never dreamt or aspired to be a model. I also didn’t want to take advantage over him like that. He is my friend after all.

My heart dropped in shame and diverted my gaze towards the sky above me. The silence around us was replaced with my loud, erratic thoughts as my vision was clouded over with my anxious fears. I couldn’t even hear anyone anymore.

“Sol? Sol?”

Snapping me out of my trance, I blinked at Luminous as he waved his head at my face.

“Sorry, what were you saying?”

“There’s a takoyaki stand over there.” The young brunette pointed at the corner stand found across the street. “Please accompany me?”

Once I agreed, Luminous excitedly rushed over to the takoyaki stand but my eyes quickly shifted to a car that was driving towards us. Panic rushed in.

“Wait, Luminous—!”

I felt someone’s arm wrap around my waist, preventing me from chasing after Luminous. Before I could decipher what just happened, the car forced itself to a stop as Luminous yelped and apologised profusely before rushing to his safety. I thought my heart was going to stop and instantly let out a sigh in relief.

But, my heart definitely stopped once the arm around my waist tightened. I quickly turned my head to face Caesar who looked down at my face with a stern expression.

“Sol, you need to watch out for yourself first.” Caesar warned. “You could’ve seriously gotten hurt.”

“...Yes, I understand.”

“I hope you do.” And with that, he released his hold and motioned towards Luminous with a nod of his head.

Pressing my hand onto my chest, I let out a shaky breathe and hoped my heart didn’t explode at what just happened. My eyes carefully observed the stoplights first and made my way towards the boy who patiently waiting for me.

“Sorry about that Sol!”

I could only force myself to smile at him reassuringly and watched him request for takoyaki for the both of us. The sound of my thunderous heart boomed louder than the thoughts that whispered in my head. Caesar’s warmth continuously lingered on my back and waist when he had pressed my clumsy form against him, making me feel strange and uncertain. I need to stop or I may just die out of embarrassment.

Sol, you stupid fool. You should’ve been more careful. Don’t create any more trouble than you already have.

[cocastyle]

Mamma Mia - Chapter 5

Pairing- Tony Stark x reader, Steve Rogers x reader, Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count- 1,808 words

Warning- none

A/N- sorry it’s been a while! here’s another update that shows a little background to Peter and Alex’s relationship! hope you all like it!

Into Prologue 1 2 3 4 5 6 7

Three years ago. . .

Peter Parker let out a sigh as he walked aimlessly through the airport. As an aspiring photographer, he was always looking for new places to go and shoot. Luckily for him, he had found out about this beautiful Greek island called Kalokairi that not too many people knew about. That meant staying there was less expensive and the scenery would be new to photography.

However, what he didn't realize was that the language was different and everywhere he went, every sign he tried to read, was written in Greek. Peter sighed again in frustration as he ran a hand through his hair and tried to determine what the sign in front of him was trying to say.

He was just about to give up and try and find out if someone around here spoke English when he heard the most beautiful voice he had ever heard fill the air.

"I'm nothing special, in fact I'm a bit of a bore.

If I tell a joke, you've probably heard it before.

But I have a talent, a wonderful thing

'Cause everyone listens when I start to sing

I'm so grateful and proud

All I want is to sing it out loud."

Peter instantly perked up at the sound of the girl's voice and didn't even hesitate before following it around the corner to where a blonde haired girl around his age sat at a piano. Peter's eyes widened at the sight of her. Not only did she have an amazing voice, but she was the prettiest girl he had ever laid eyes on.

"So I say

Thank you for the music, the songs I'm singing.

Thanks for all the joy they're bringing

Who can live without it, I ask in all honesty.

What would life be?

Without a song or a dance what are we?

So I say thank you for the music

For giving it to me."

Peter seemed to be in a trance as he watched the girl sing and he quickly looked around him to see if anyone was paying attention to the girl before them. He almost gasped when he realized not a single person was actually looking at her. There were a few tapping their feet to the beat, but other than that, no one was really paying attention. Peter didn't understand why.

"Mother says I was a dancer before I could walk.

She says I began to sing long before I could talk.

And I've often wondered, how did it all start?

Who found out that nothing could capture a heart like a melody can?

Well, whoever it was, I'm a fan.

So I say

Thank you for the music, the songs I'm singing.

Thanks for all the joy they're bringing.

Who can live with it, I ask in all honesty

What would life be?

Without a song or a dance what are we?

So I say thank you for the music

For giving it to me.

I've been so lucky, I am the girl with golden hair

I wanna sing it out to everybody

What a joy, what a life, what a chance!"

Peter's eyes widened as she hit that last note. Her eyes were closed as she sang it, but she hit it so effortlessly that it didn't even seem like she had to even think about it. Peter couldn't stop the smile from growing on his face as he watched the girl sing with so much passion and emotion.

It was obvious she loved singing and he couldn't help it when he took his camera out and snapped a picture of her singing her heart out. He looked down at the result and smiled before putting his camera away and enjoying the rest of the performance.

"So I say

Thank you for the music, the songs I'm singing

Thanks for all the joy they're bringing

Who can live without it, I ask in all honesty

What would life be?

Without a song or a dance what are we?

So I say thank you for the music

For giving it to me."

The music came to an end and Peter felt his heart drop at the fact. The girl let out a small sigh as she took her hands off of the piano. Peter watched her for a moment before suddenly walking over to her. It was like something was drawing him to her. Like something was telling him that he needed to talk to this girl. That she was going to change his life.

He stopped beside her and the girl looked up to him. Peter's breath hitched at the sight of her stunning blue eyes and he had to stop himself from running away in fright. He took in a small breath to calm himself before holding out his hand.

"I'm Peter. Peter Parker. I just wanted to say that your singing was spectacular. The best I've ever had the pleasure of listening to actually," Peter said. He had begun to ramble a little bit, but thankfully he was able to stop himself from making a fool out of himself.

The girl smiled at him and Peter felt like that one smile could solve all of the world's problems. "Thank you," she said, her voice practically as melodious as her singing voice. She reached out and took his hand in her own. "I'm Alexandra L/N."

"But you can call me Alex."

- - -

"Oh my gosh! Pepper's packed for a world tour!" Wanda exclaimed from her spot next to Pepper's bag. Y/N let out a small laugh and looked over from where she was currently fixing the window to see Wanda and Natasha looking at Pepper's things.

Wanda held up a thong and chuckled before looking at Y/N. "What do you think? Does she wear it or floss with it?" Wanda asked as Pepper walked out of the bathroom in a towel and wet hair. Pepper glared at the girl and quickly grabbed her underwear before throwing it into her bag. "Floss you," she muttered under her breath while the others laughed.

"Oh, listen to this," Natasha said as she pulled a bottle out of Pepper's bag. "The world's most luxurious moisturizer contains flakes of 24-karat gold and extracts of donkey testicles." "You're just jealous," Pepper tried to tell her while Wanda poured them some wine.

Wanda handed each of the friends a glass and they all turned to each other while Natasha continued to tease Pepper. "At a thousand dollars a dollop," Natasha teased. "Tell you, that's the price you have to pay if you wanna drink before eleven in the morning!" Pepper exclaimed making them all laugh.

"And we do!" they all exclaimed in unison before laughing and clinking their glasses together. The group then took sips of their drinks and started to laugh and joke with each other, none of them knowing the events that were about to take place and it all started with the fact that three very important men from Y/N's had just arrived on the island.

- - -

Alex hummed softly to herself as she walked out of one of the parts of the hotel with a box in her hand. She walked slower upon seeing three men staring off over the side of the balcony and she set the box down.

"Hi?" she said and the three turned to look at her. "May I help you?"

"Sure, we're here for the wedding actually," the nicer dressed one said. He took his sunglasses off and put them in his pocket before holding a hand out to the girl. "I'm Tony Stark," he greeted and the girl paled slightly as she shook his hand.

Tony Stark? One of her possible fathers?

"I'm Barnes. James Barnes, but some people call me Bucky," one of the other men said as he held his hand out. Alex shook it and stared at him with wide eyes, unable to comprehend what was happening.

Tony Stark and James Barnes. . . Two of her possible fathers.

Finally, her eyes flickered over to the last man and he took his sunglasses off to reveal bright blue eyes. "Steve Rogers," he said with a smile as he too shook her hand.

Alex let her hand fall limply to her side as she stared at the three men in front of her. She always thought that upon seeing her father, that she would know exactly who it was. But standing here, with all three of her possible fathers right before her, Alex had no clue which one was her real father.

"I-" Alex couldn't get a sentence out as she continued to stare at them and the three men furrowed their eyebrows in confusion. "You are expecting us, right?" Steve asked.

Alex seemed to snap out of the trance she was in and a big smile appeared on her face. She may not know which one of the men was her father, but one of her was and that was all that mattered.

"Oh my God. Yes!" Alex exclaimed. She wanted to rush forward and hug them each, by she knew better and just smiled at them. Bucky titled his head slightly as he looked at the smiling girl, something about her smile and features seeming familiar to him.

Then it clicked. "You're Y/N's daughter," he whispered in disbelief and Alex's eyes flickered over to him. "Yes," she said, happy that he had recognized.

"I thought you looked familiar," Tony said as he smiled at the girl. "Uh. . .Alexandra, right?" "I go by Alex. I was named after an Alexandra," she told him. "I used to have a great-Aunt living on the mainland named Alexandra," Tony said.

"Would you mind if we see our rooms before we see your mother?" Steve asked. "Sure," Alex told them. "It's just that I'd like to, you know, freshen up before the reunion. It was kind of hot out there," Steve chuckled as he and the other men began walking towards the main entrance of the hotel grounds.

"No! No!" Alex exclaimed and the three men stopped in their tracks before giving the girl a confused look. "I mean. . .yes, but come this way."

They glanced at each other before looking back to the girl. Alex just gave them a small smile before waving in the direction she wanted them to go. They followed her through one of the buildings until they reached a small dark doorway that led to who knows where.

Steve looked at it confused. "Come on," Alex told them. Tony chuckled and patted Steve's shoulder. "You heard the girl," Tony said with a laugh as he hurried after her. Steve and Bucky glanced at each other before sighing and following after.

This was definitely not what they had been expecting when they had decided to come to the wedding.

Tag List:

@babygirlizz

@stars-cant-be-broken

@sammmnmy

@oceanmendes

[libidomechanica]

One arm had on a suddenly, with music

One arm had on  a suddenly, with  music which evn  then filld apace, masked like an  epitaph — from our 

homes, than  lessen it by what I  know not: her hearts are  extremes, stood for fish,  and he himself your 

camp: we seem so little markd  with Wisdoms  sight, but oer itself the  skirt and from hands,  thus spake the piebald 

miscellany, man, bursts  of melodious prophetic  eye of appetite. “ O I hae seen the  lightning has shown: so 

that airy trance, spread her  conquest and pearls upon  our lowing to  think to  a phrase like a hawk, an” 

its like a  ghost away, a deserts,  for the  puppet of a  mother on the 

cloak, like fog smothering,  to stammer  where thy waters run gurgl ing in sight.  Flavias a wit, has too 

much disdain, She hurried  in. M not breath in that  remote recess,  pulld forth from the  cloak, like a 

suddenly a hare ran across  the morning,  turn the boom of a  fine summer, ere things  present times the 

Grashopper so  poore, and “Et sepulchri immemor  struis domos” shows  the farmer of his  Protection, 

buttressd from Astreas clime,  no natural  and fill allow Thy brow, to  lack thou be  distinguish and go to 

bed the raw  quiver of love but he had  made up his majesty  was all. and  also, as may be 

true, Lost with his  charm by setting the  right talking to  you. said Juan,—swallowing  to me; and seek 

with Tomyris  and when the  days; the  gate, Luke Havergal— luke Havergal—  luke Havergal— luke 

Havergal— luke Havergal, t here he reached white hands  obey—our head. That  I perhaps, with  his own ankle glanced 

aside, we plants himself  in sight from pain, is  dragging more, our  feet have these hazy years  ago.— And, it 

might arise some motiond to  his full easy  slide: Never on such a  darkling brightly me,  but, trowth, I care na by. Softly, 

in things aspire  to public ’“tis you  harm. Whateer his words  and many days exild all  torment from 

the book of scorn, when  snouted wild- boars routing a shady  boon for stroked  my cheers when some by-

street to take what  parting. Birch limb in it,  had a sword and  flustered, without found  the table, I 

heard a shot—”t was  eight a. By the  work of time; for  cankering blade of  grass, the monstrous debt.

[velvetchen]

con ardore | pt. ii

[ back to masterlist ]

Scenario: piano instructor!au Pairing: Lay x (gender neutral) reader Word Count: 3.6k Warnings: mild descriptions of music theory

Summary: You’re on the verge of achieving your dream of becoming a concert pianist, but your new instructor and you don’t exactly see eye to eye...

a/n: look i’m updating on time!! 

<< previous part x next part >>

You were there early again. Or, at least, you thought you were early. When you pushed open the doors to the building, pausing to take off your coat and hang it over your arm, he was there, sitting in the lobby with his ankles class and sheet music spread over his lap while he looked at his phone.

You stole a glance at your watch; it was at least twenty minutes before your class was supposed to start. You had hoped to settle in, practice a little before he arrived - not that you hadn’t already spent the whole day practicing - but that wasn’t to be, apparently.

Yixing noticed you the moment you walked in, looking up from his phone and meeting your eyes. You lifted your hand in a little half-wave. “Hi,” you said.

He got up, pushing his sheet music into a folder and sliding it into his bag, one of those leather slings that made anyone look sophisticated. In his case, even more sophisticated. He gestured in the direction of the room with a nod, and you nodded back, comfortable with the silent exchange.

Yixing followed behind you as you led the way through the halls to the room. You had the keys, although you were sure Madame Choi had probably requested for a set to be given to Yixing too. Unlocking the door, you stepped in, breathing the warm, musty wooden scent of its interior - it still smelled faintly of a mix of your perfume, imbued in the air from the hours you spent there, and something heavier, a lingering low note that you identified as Yixing’s cologne from the day before.

Wordlessly, you pulled out the bench and sat down as he relaxed into the armchair again.

“Did you practice what we did yesterday?” He asked as you unlocked the piano’s lid. It was a rhetorical question, a little tricky - any answer would set him up to expect that you would do better than the day before.

“Yes,” you said, because you had. To be honest, you were nervous. As much as you had practiced, you dreaded his comments. Because as much as you had practiced, you had the sinking feeling he’d have something to say. To put your hard work down once again. You shouldn’t have to feel like that.

He nodded. “Okay, we’ll see how you’ve done, and then we’ll move on to the next piece. You have six pieces in total, am I correct?”

“Yes,” you said again.

He pulled out a sheet from his bag, a piece of thick, creamy paper that you recognized as your program. He read it over, his eyebrows drawing together. “Start,” he said, still looking over it.

You dithered for a moment, then set your hands on the keys. Then paused, realizing you hadn’t taken the sheet music out yet.

“Play it without the sheets,” Yixing said as you leaned over to retrieve them.

“But I made notes on that copy about the changes…” You trailed off.

“That’s fine. I want you to try, anyway.” You thought he was being oddly gentle after yesterday - his tone was looser, but not yet bordering on friendly. That was alright, you supposed. He was just your instructor, you shouldn’t expect him to be anything else. At least he wasn’t criticizing you with the mere force of his gaze anymore.

Taking a deep breath, you rested your fingers on the keys. The opening notes spilled forward as you leaned into the song, trying to remember all the changes you’d made the previous day.

“Stop there.”

There it was. Wincing internally, you lifted your hands, turning to look at Yixing.

“I told you yesterday, try to let it come naturally.” You opened your mouth to retort at that, but he stopped you. “Don’t overthink that statement. Just let yourself play.”

It went smoothly. Or so you thought. You’d felt a little looser in playing it, at least. Maybe that was enough.

You played the last note, holding it a little longer than usual before dropping it and looking up at Yixing. He had his eyes closed, his chin resting in his hand as he leaned against the armrest.

“Better,” he conceded, without opening his eyes. “Marginally, at least. Do you know it by heart now?”

“Well, yes, of course, but-”

“Still, however, lacking in some ways. Let’s try something.” He cut you off, sitting up straight and pulling his chair close so that he could reach the keys.

He reached over, plucking the closed sheet music from its stand. “I want you to do a little visualization exercise. Switch seats with me.”

Warily, you did so. He sat at the piano’s bench, placing his fingers - immaculately manicured, you noticed - delicately on the keys. “Close your eyes.”

You didn’t quite trust him yet, so it was a little unnerving not being able to see him. “Okay.”

“When you listen to this piece, what do you visualize? When you listen, not play,” he said. “Tell me the images that come to mind.”

You wracked your brain, the edges of the melody playing in your mind as you tried to glean an image. And stopped as you realized that you were coming up blank. Was it because you could feel him staring at you, though your eyes were closed? Staring at you, pressuring you. You started to worry your bottom lip between your teeth.

“We don’t have all day, Y/N.” His tone was drier than before.

You swallowed, not wanting to admit you couldn’t think of anything. “I think of…” you trailed off. “Um, it’s not a very happy song.”

“No, it isn’t. Don’t tell me that’s all there is to it.” You heard his fingers slip on the keys, then heard the familiar notes as he played the first eight measures before stopping - but even those eight measures managed to sweep you away. “What does this make you think of?”

“It seems lighthearted,” you said, still reeling from his playing. “But deceptively so, because I know the next segment isn’t.”

He hummed in assent. “Yes.” Then he continued the song from where he’d left off, softer this time, like it was indicated in the piece. You noticed, though, how he slowed at sections where you didn’t, played some notes louder than others. The end cut off.  He looked at you expectantly. 

“It’s a more transitional part,” you said. “And then the principal melody returns, almost as if…as if a happy thought is clouded over by a sad one before it reemerges.”

He started to play again without any response. This time he didn’t stop in between, going on for longer, and you found yourself transfixed in a way you’d never felt before. Somehow, when he played, you felt like you were playing it yourself - like the notes were coming out of you - your body, instead of the body of the piano. You could feel them vibrating in you in a way that wasn’t just because of the resonance of the music itself, but the feeling that he imbued in it.

You wished you could play like that. 

You were left lost as he stopped again. “And this?” He asked, snapping you out of the trance that his playing had put you in.

You looked from his hands to his face, which was now less stern than before, and back to his hands. Obviously you weren’t paying attention to what he asked you to do. Still, you stammered out a response: “You changed the tempo in the middle. It’s faster than it’s supposed to be. And louder, too.”

“Good observation,” he said. “I did that so that the change in key stands out from the surrounding parts, which are repetitions of each other. What did that make you imagine?”

You still didn’t get where he was going with this, but you went along with it. “It sounds…like it’s building momentum.”

He retracted his hands. You almost frowned at the thought he wouldn’t play more. “Do you see? You have to identify what the song is trying to tell you, and then you have a conversation with it.”

When he put it that way, you almost understood. Almost - because you understood what he was saying in theory, but you were lost when it came to actually doing it.

“Remember, let it come naturally,” he instructed. “If you know the song well, it will tell you what to do. I want you to feel it. Play with your eyes closed.”

“Closed? I’ve never done that.” You tried not to look too incredulous.

He nodded towards the piano. “Give it a try. It helps me with the visualization. It might do the same for you.”

Wary, you closed your eyes, a little pleasantly surprised when your fingers settled into the right positions on their own, the keys feeling warm and comfortable. You had the urge to pry one eye open, just to check if you were in the right spot, but kept your eyes squeezed shut. Yixing’s stare was fixed on you, and if you opened your eyes, you would feel the full weight of it. 

You took a deep breath. Might as well try. Slowly, you started to play, but it was only a few notes in before your fingers started to slip the wrong way. You paused, tried again. This time you got a little further, feeling the music start to take shape, before you messed up. You let out an involuntary noise of frustration, feeling your eyes burn. You hated showing weakness. You hated being less than perfect, and suddenly you were. And in front of him - Zhang Yixing, epitome of perfection - it felt ten times worse.

Zhang Yixing had proved himself to be perfect. The kind of perfect you aspired to be. The kind of perfect you worked tirelessly towards, practicing until your hands felt like they were bleeding and you couldn’t move your wrists anymore. You opened your eyes. “I can’t.” The words burned your throat as you admitted them.

Yixing just hummed, a neutral expression covering his face. That was the thing you didn’t like - you had no idea what he was thinking at any given moment. “Try again.”

You swallowed, but closed your eyes again, startling when you heard his chair move. You felt his presence move as he stood up, moving around to stand on your left. The close proximity made your heart thud, involuntarily. You were almost sure he could hear it. You opened your eyes just slightly to see the space between you was barely the length of your hand. Unable to look up at his face, you ducked your head down once more as you started to play.

You were about halfway through before your eyes opened on their own, your hands stilling, the last few notes slipping away like the edges of a dream after you awoke with a start. You stopped abruptly to stare at your hands, wondering why they were suddenly failing you. Slowly, you let out a breath, allowing yourself to relax. It was only the pressure. Stress from the day of the concert being so close. Stress from Yixing’s acerbic words the previous day. Despite the day having ended on a good note, those words still lingered in your mind, reinforcing what you sometimes told yourself on bad days.

That you weren’t good enough. That no matter how much you tried, you wouldn’t get where you wanted.

“Are you alright?” Yixing’s voice startled you out of your thoughts. You’d forgotten how close he was.

“I’m fine,” you said, a smile stretching your lips for a moment before it faded.

He must have sensed something was off, because he said, “Maybe that’s enough visualization for one day. Run through it one more time, and then we’ll move on to the Lizst.”

You nodded. He’d picked up on your sudden change in mood, and you were grateful for it.

This you could do.

The lesson passed on like the day before, with you playing the pieces over and over as he made small suggestions here and there, let you take over elsewhere. It felt like you were slowly striking a balance, slowly coming to an agreement. He was no longer as harsh with you, and you no longer took his words to heart. At least, you were trying not to.

“My hands hurt,” you said in mild surprise after a while, looking down at them.

Yixing chuckled. “You practice too much.”

You shot him a glance out of the corner of your eye. “Too much? It’s my debut!”

“Ah, but don’t they say not to practice when it really matters?”

“Well, that’s crap advice,” you said, and he laughed again. You were surprised at his laugh - at first he’d seemed like the type of person who’d never dare to let a smile sit on his face for a moment too long. But when he did smile, you thought he should never stop.

“But seriously speaking,” he said, “I think you overwork yourself.”

You knew he was right. Madame Choi herself told you often enough, but… “No, I don’t.” The words had no conviction.

“You do,” he insisted. “You’ve already come to this level. I don’t think an hour more or less of practice will make any difference.” Suddenly, he stood up, picking up his coat from the back of the armchair. “Actually, I think we’re done for today.”

You looked at the clock, frowning. “There’s an hour left.”

“I am aware. What were you planning on having for dinner tonight?”

His question made you raise a brow. Normally, you would get home by half past ten, make a bowl of instant ramen - adding an egg if you were patient enough - and fall asleep immediately after, listening to your debut pieces over and over until you did. Yesterday you were later than usual - leftover takeout, still cold from the fridge, was all you’d had. You hadn’t had the patience to wait for the microwave. “Nothing interesting, I guess.” You weren’t sure where he was going with this.

“Do you mind if I take you somewhere, then?” He backtracked slightly at your expression. “It’s not a…I don’t mean anything. I’d simply like to get to know my student better. We only have a week, after all.”

You opened your mouth, ready to protest, then conceded. “Alright. Where?”

“There’s that place across the street,” he said vaguely, slipping on his coat and waiting by the door as you packed up all your things. This felt strange. You barely knew Yixing, had almost hated him the previous day, and now here you were, letting him take you to dinner. The day after you met him.

You were having second thoughts, but you were already at the door, locking it. He was right about there being a small restaurant nestled between a barbershop and a more frequented cafe. You followed, tucking your coat tight around your body as Yixing held the door open for you. Muttering your thanks, you slipped inside and looked around. The interior was warm and dim, the walls panelled in deep red fabric and cherry wood, with latticed wood dividers separating the small tables.

Not a date, you thought, suddenly feeling odd. This place wasn’t what you expected. You glanced towards Yixing. Then again, there was no way you could imagine Yixing going anywhere more crowded. The quiet warmth of this place suited him.

You lingered behind, a little awkwardly, as Yixing exchanged a greeting with the receptionist. Then he led you forward, and you found yourself tucked into a little corner table. It wasn’t as secluded as some of the others, and you could still see the rest of the room.

“Go ahead,” Yixing said, pushing the menu towards you. “Don’t worry about the cost.”

“What? I mean, no, I can’t. I’ll pay my own share.”

“Y/N, I came here to talk to you. Not to argue.” He pushed the menu towards you again. “Pick.”

You cheeks warm, you took the menu and stared down at it instead of at him. You were aware he was watching you. It seemed like you had a sense for that; always able to feel his stare on you.

Once you had given your order and the waiter had slipped away, Yixing settled back in his chair. “What do you do, besides playing?”

You hated that question. Normally, you’d give the straightforward answer - nothing. There was nothing in your life beyond playing, visiting the gym every other day, and studying music in between cooking meals in your cramped apartment kitchen. How would you answer this question to make it look like you were doing something with your life that wasn’t waiting? Waiting for your debut, working towards some kind of unattainable perfection. His brand of perfection.

You couldn’t. He’d see right through you. “Not much,” you said, looking down at the table again. “Music is everything for me, I guess.”

“I see,” he said. Maybe, you thought, he would understand. After all, this was the man who’d dedicated his life to music ever since he was a kid. You wondered for a moment if that had been his own doing, or if circumstance had made it so. You wanted to ask, but kept the question to yourself.

Your food arrived. Yixing leaned forward, above the fine line of steam rising from his bowl. “Tell me, why did you pick the Polonaise in F-sharp minor?”

You eyed him as you thought for a moment. “Why that, specifically, out of all tof them?”

“It’s not a very popular piece. If I were you, I would play it safe with the A-flat major.”

“Madame Choi suggested the same,” you agreed. “But I think the A-flat major is too refined. Too…I don’t know. Structured, straightforward. I prefer the raw dynamics of the F-sharp minor. It’s imposing, menacing almost, especially compared to the E-flat major.”

Yixing nodded. “Good choice. I thought the same.”

“Did you?” You asked, taking a bite of your food, letting a small smile curve your lips.

“Yes,” Yixing said. “The E-flat major itself is softer, more tender. You play it softer than necessary to accentuate that. Why, then, did you choose the E-flat major?”

“I don’t know,” you said. “It’s not a well known piece. Neither is it played very often in debut concerts. I had difficulties with how delicate it was, compared to my usual style. Madame Choi thought it might show my versatility.”

“Versatility,” Yixing chuckled. “Yes, indeed.” He looked satisfied with your answer, so you didn’t say anything else.

At that moment, his phone rang. You looked away, focusing on your dinner as he answered the call. Even so, you couldn’t help but listen in - not that it was hard with him being only a foot away.

“Hello? Yes, it’s me. Yes, I can do that. When? Sunday morning? No, I have somewhere to be on Saturday evening. I won’t be able to make it.”

You looked up.

“No, I can’t. Thank you for the offer. My apologies.” Calm as ever, he set the phone down, raising a brow when he saw your bemused expression.

“You’re staying for my concert?” you asked.

“Is there any reason I wouldn’t?” he replied, almost seeming affronted.

You glanced away, suddenly awkward. “No, I just thought…Madame Choi will be back on Saturday morning. I thought you wouldn’t want to stay past that. Besides, you said…” You trailed off. “Nothing. Thank you, then.”

“What did I say?” Amusement tinted his voice.

“You didn’t…you didn’t seem very enthusiastic about having to listen to me play.” Your face burned, suddenly, and you hesitated. Why? He obviously hadn’t refrained from criticizing you, had he?

“Ah,” he said. “Yes, that. I see why you might be surprised.” He finished his meal, setting the cutlery down delicately. “No worries. I’ll be there.”

You opened your mouth to ask him the question that was lingering in your mind. Why was he - Zhang Yixing, premier concert pianist in the world, the kind of person who, if they showed up to view a recital, would set the entire classical music scene to gossip - why was he here? Why did he agree to teach you? He certainly had some respect for Madame Choi, but coaching a student he’d never met for the one week before their debut concert? 

“Will you be having anything else?” His question lurched you out of your thoughts, and you shelved your question away for later - now wasn’t the time.

“No, I’m done,” you said, and frowned. “You don’t have to pay for me, you know.”  

“I insist,” he waved your interjection off. “Consider it an apology for yesterday. I shouldn’t have been so harsh with you on your first day with me.” 

When you glanced at him, you got the sense that he was going to say something more, though he kept himself perfectly neutral as he looked over the bill. Did that mean he was harsh with all his students, not just you? Oddly, the thought brought you no relief. Was he harsh just because he could be? Because he’d earned his spot at the top? 

He was perfectly civil now, though. Almost kind. You’d got him to laugh. It shouldn’t have felt like such a big achievement, but it did. 

He left you outside the building. “I’d take you home,” he began. “But that might be too much, and you would definitely refuse me.”

“That’s right,” you said, with a small laugh. “Thank you, though. And thank you for dinner.”

“Like I said, consider it my apology.” He did look contrite. “Don’t practice any more today. I’ll see you again tomorrow.”

Your fingertips tingled on cue at the reminder of practice. “Okay,” you said, even though you were planning on going home and practicing some more. Maybe trying out the visualization again. Without Yixing watching you, it might be easier. 

“I mean it,” he said. “Enough. You will wear yourself out. Trust me on that.” 

You smiled. “All right.” 

“Well, then,” he said, nodding. “Good night.”

“Good night, Yixing,” you said, and with another nod he walked off, losing himself in the crowd of the street in an instant.

[ask-svt-hearteu]

Barista! Jihoon

Genre: fluff, fluff, and fluff

Word Count: 2054

almost never looks like he’s happy

like honestly some people question how he even got the job

bc like aren’t baristas supposed to smile brightly at you when you order and send you off with a ‘have a nice day’ ?

Jihoon isn't the type to do that though

he stares at you with his dead college student eyes, sometimes managing to work up a mini smile

makes you wonder whether he’s patiently waiting for you to order or silently imagining ways to kill you if you don’t hurry tf up and order

hands you your coffee with a curt nod and an occasional ‘enjoy’

it’s hard for him to just drastically change when he puts on that apron

bc honestly,,,

he doesn’t like his job

while he’d much rather spend his time elsewhere, the bills aren’t going to pay themselves

he only ended up in this cafe bc working somewhere walking distance to the dorm and pays well is huge

ofc it helps he was hella fast on picking up the recipes for everything

manages the BGM in the shop

someone once started playing this absolutely horrid song that completely ruined the atmosphere of the cafe

and uninterested Jihoon was the last person they expected to throw a fit

soon enough no one could mess with the BGM

even when Jihoon wasn’t working he had it preset to playlists he made

honestly it made his job so much better

and as a music composition major he had to sneak in some of his own work

it felt a little embarrassing at first, but after much convincing from all his friends/co-workers, he started putting them in his playlists

now a little after this is when he started to notice you

he’s seen you come in before, quite often

sometimes he’d take your order and sometimes Mingyu would, who Jihoon usually shared shifts with

admittedly he thought you were attractive

you’d ask about his day when it wasn’t busy and there was no one in line behind you

always striking up a simple, friendly conversation with him

he enjoyed those conversations too

sharing a few laughs about random things happening on campus or a little playful banter as you both were the same age

but it wasn’t like other customers didn’t do this also, or you didn’t do this with other baristas

it was just people being friendly after all

but on a particularly slow day, when the cafe was only filled with students trying to take advantage of the free wifi and drinking multiple cups of caffeine in hopes to finish whatever was due the next day

you walk in, the both of you flashing tired smiles at each other

you weren’t quite friends with Jihoon, but at this point he was definitely a little more than just an acquaintance

“hope you aren’t too tired to make me a latte?”

he does that little smirk he always does and shrugs

“i guess i could make an exception”

“i’m honored”

you hand him your money and stand off to the side where you could talk to him as you watch him make your drink

leaning against the counter you try to clear your mind from the stressful assignment due tomorrow and drown in the soft melody of the song playing throughout the cafe

Jihoon takes a short glance at you and unconsciously smiles to himself

your smile is pretty

“this song is pretty,” you say without looking at Jihoon, “what’s it called?”

you knew Jihoon controlled the cafe’s music and he always knew what he was playing

when enough time has past where you should’ve already gotten your answer, you turn to him

and furrow your brows at his expression

he’s staring at you, his body frozen and mouth slightly agape

quickly snapping out of his trance, he mumbles something you don’t catch

but you catch the dust of pink on his cheeks that wasn’t there before

“Jihoon?” you say confused

if you wasn’t for his odd reaction you would’ve pulled out your phone and snapped a picture

it’s not everyday one can see Lee Jihoon flustered

“i think I’m calling it ‘Drift Away’” he repeats so you could actually hear him

you open your mouth to reply, but pause to actually process what his words implied

you wait until he hands you your latte before smiling

“your song is really good Jihoon”

before he gets to chance to reply, you let out a soft laugh

“i would want to listen to it again, you should post them online”

“i’ll consider it” he resists the urge to let out a wide grin as you walk out the cafe

you made his entire day

your comment felt a little different than receiving one from a friend

although his friends don’t necessarily sugarcoat for him, they participated in the songs making it not completely unbiased

he knew you genuinely liked the song

you liked it enough to ask for the title, to want to listen to it again

and for a college student/aspiring producer like Jihoon, that was everything

if he had to pinpoint the moment where he started to fall for you, that would be it

“is that your voice” you ask

you happen to hear one of his songs again when you come in

“yeah”

“you have a nice voice”

once again he felt a surge of happiness

and this he doesn’t resist the urge to grin

he grins fully at you, letting out a shy chuckle

“thank you”

one night, maybe ten minutes before closing, you decide you needed a good cup of coffee, even at that time of night

as expected you were the only one in the cafe, save for Jihoon at the counter

“at this time of night?” he says first with his teasing tone

you roll your eyes

“you know how finals are”

he hums, not saying anything else and goes to make your coffee

you’re about to leave but Jihoon stops you

“Hey wait”

you look at him curiously

“give me your number”

he says it so casually, you’re typing it into his phone without thinking

“ah so you make the first move”

you mean this jokingly

and he laughs, taking it that way also

but gosh you might have developed a tiny crush on Jihoon

your phone rings, a text obviously from Jihoon

you give him a glance before going to look at it

it was a link to a Soundcloud

“i posted some songs yesterday”

you smile, your heartwarming

“and you couldn’t just tell me this?” you say playfully

he shrugs, shoving his hands into his pants nonchalantly

“Maybe it’s an excuse to get your number”

you smirk, ignoring the blush rising to your cheeks

“who knew you could be so smooth”

“i just learned today”

you both chuckle and you shake your shake at his response

“i’ll text you when i’m done listening”

so you do, and as expected you’re mind blown by his songs

it showed another side of Jihoon, a deeper, passionate side

‘I love all of them’

his text bubble pops up a few seconds later

‘it’s like 3 am, why are you awake’

you smile to yourself

it was just like Jihoon to say that instead of taking your compliment in full stride

‘you made me the coffee’

you send another text, ‘i got done with my assignment and i’ve been listening to them for the past hour’

‘swear you aren’t just being nice to me?’

‘aren’t we past the point where we have to sugarcoat everything we say? trust me, your songs are amazing’

and as Jihoon lays in his bed, he lets out a small giggle

forgetting he shares a room with Seungcheol and Wonwoo

thankfully the darkness hides his redness well

“what’s the cold-hearted Jihoon laughing about at this time” Wonwoo mutters loud enough for the other two boys to hear, rubbing his eyes tiredly staring at his computer screen

“what do you mean cold-hearted? we all know Jihoon is a softie” Seungcheol chuckles

Jihoon scoffs

“if i didn’t know any better I’d say he had a girlfriend”

Seungcheol says this jokingly as Wonwoo chuckles

Jihoon rolls his eyes, “it’s not like that”

“wow I was just kidding, it’s actually a girl?” Seungcheol straightens up, curious and excited to hear about his friend’s love life

“again, not like that, I met her while working, we just talk sometimes”

“how romantic,” Wonwoo comments, “seems like you like her”

“what makes you say that?” Jihoon glares at the ceiling

he didn’t know if he believed it or not

love is complicated

“because you don’t go out of your way to talk to just anyone”

Jihoon hums, accepting Wonwoo’s answer and turns over

the conversation ends there and goes back to a comfortable silence

but he realizes Wonwoo’s right

and when has he ever just let someone listen to his songs

I mean he wanted people to listen to his songs

but going out of his way to send you the link wasn’t like him

anyone else we would’ve just told them to look it up

but you weren’t just anyone to him

not anymore

it’s nearing 4:00 but he decides to send you a text anyways

‘I’m not working today, wanna grab lunch after class?’

he hoped you didn’t ask if it was a date, because he didn’t know either

‘yeah sounds good’

smiling to himself, he falls asleep thinking of you and your pretty smile from when you first heard his song

Jihoon picks you up from your class later

and the both of you begin walking to some basic lunch place near campus

the conversation flows nicely

you get to know him outside of the cafe

he’s not just the static baritsa who you thought was cute when he smiled

“hey,” you say randomly

he nods for you to continue

“so is this a date?”

Jihoon coughs

you giggle as he struggles to compose himself

clearly, his didn’t expect it

but from your experience, two people, eating lunch together, who hopefully shared a mutual attraction

that was a date

“I want it to be” Jihoon answers honestly

his eyes don’t leave yours, waiting for your answer

you smile to yourself, “we’re dating now then”

the more dates you went on with Jihoon, the harder you started to fall

rather than sweet words, he expressed his feelings through actions

whenever you come to the cafe, he pays for your coffee despite your protests

and if you happen to pay that day, he brings a pastry over to you

“I didn’t order this?”

“I just don’t want you to drink coffee on an empty stomach”

not so secretly exchanging kisses when he hands you your order

you stay after to wait for his shift to end, so the both of you could eat something that’s not a pastry and drink something that’s not coffee

and he walks you back to your dorm always

probably says some manly excuse about how he wants to protect you

but you know he just wants to spend more time with you

like you can protect yourself pfft

this goes on for months

like months

and ofc all of Jihoon’s friends are like wOW we can’t get used to you being together with someone

they say this as you guys are all gathered in the cafe secretly staying past closing time

you turn to look at Jihoon, who has your hand in his

that’s when you realize something kinda important

“Jihoon, are you my boyfriend?”

he looks at you as if you’ve asked a foolish question

“of course I am, I don’t kiss just anyone”

“OOOOHHHHH”

the other guys show mixed reaction, some showing faces of disgust, some squealing as if they just witnessed absence from a drama

you press a kiss to his cheek

“you’re pretty good at scoring yourself brownie points”

he blushes, almost unnoticeable

“shouldn’t making your coffee be enough?”

he’s just joking, teasing you

so you only laugh, nodding

as he continues his conversation with the others, you squeeze his hand from under the table and murmur

“it’s more than enough”

you say it so quietly you aren’t sure he heard you

but when you feel his thumb brush over your hand and pull you closer, you know he did

MASTERLIST