#sad piano music playlist

[musicforyou]

Sad Emotional Piano Music collection.

Track list:

(00:00) 01. Sad - Lesfm

(01:39) 02. Ataraxia - Juan Sanchez

(05:55) 03. Sad Piano Atmosphere No Pad - Musictown

(07:56) 04. A Leaf on the Wind - Lexin Music

(10:06) 05. Anthem of Ukraine - SoulProdMusic

(11:31) 06. Sad Moment - SoulProdMusic

(14:10) 07. The Grief Piano and Cello - MusicLFiles

(16:24) 08. Sad Piano - Lesfm

(18:20) 09. Tense Sad Piano - Ashot Danielyan

(20:45) 10. SUIBOKU - HarumachiMusic

(24:53) 11. Tension - Ashot Danielyan

(26:54) 12. Peaceful Places - Juan Sanchez

(30:09) 13. Sad Thoughtful Serious Piano - Ashot Danielyan

(33:16) 14. Naiad - HarumachiMusic

(37:20) 15. Winter - Magnetic Trailer

(39:47) 16. Calm Piano Dramatic - AleXZavesa

(41:14) 17. For When It Rains - Juan Sanchez

(46:27) 18. Calming Down - PianoAmor

(48:38) 19. Calm and Peaceful - Lesfm

(51:01) 20. Cancion Triste - enrique27naveda

(58:53) 21. HANAMAI - HarumachiMusic

[lilybug-02]

me vibing to the absolute, most broad spectrum of music humanity can conjure

[alsojnpie]

since i can't have an autoplay playlist on this site I'll just pin whatever song i wish i could force you to listen to while you look at my page

it's a playlist now. so i can update it from beyond😁😁

[tesco-finest-aromantics]

does spotify know what a genre is? because this is the opposite of that

[helpforintrusivethoughts]

Resources 🌼

(Updated regularly)

🪷 Emergency resource: oh no I’m having a bad thought

🌻 Apps and Games

Finch: mental health app where you care for a little bird! Offers many features such as focus timers, rant zones, nature sounds, fun questions, and more! You can even make friends on it and send them encouragement :) (my friend code)

Adorable Home: a precious game in which you have a tiny spouse, cats, and a little house you can decorate! You can check in and enjoy peaceful music, different scenes, and upgrades through collecting tiny hearts you earn through easy tasks! A truly adorable and relaxing game!

Seashine: a game set underwater in which you guide a tiny luminescent jellyfish through the abyss. Beautiful, relaxing music and distant whale noises; some scary enemies, so if you have thalassophobia this might not be the one for you. Very calming otherwise though, and the creator is coming out with an enemy-free version soon in which you can just float around to the music!

Cat Snack Bar: an adorable app where you operate different business venues with the help of chubby, adorable cats! You check in periodically to collect money and update your venue, but otherwise it doesn't require much brain power. A very cute game to help you relax!

Webtoon: a comic app that allows you to browse thousands of creative and often relaxing webcomics! My personal favorite is Cursed Princess Club; it's a very clever and happy one with a lot of good messages!

1010!: a fun little game where you match up blocks. Fairly simple and satisfying, and you can update your backgrounds to fun designs!

Papa's Cupcakeria: a relaxing and satisfying game where you make cupcakes! And of course there’s a whole series of games in the Papa Louie universe to choose from that are fun and happy :)

🪸 Fun Websites

Neal.fun: features many creative pages you can visit such as— a stack of movable rocks, a page that shows how deep the ocean really goes, who was alive [insert year], draw logos from memory, and more!

WindowSwap: lets you go through windows around the world! You can log in and save your favorites, and make it fullscreen if you need to study and want a nice thing in the background to keep you from distractions.

mrdoob.com: a wacky website with lots of fun features you can draw and mess around with

boredbutton: for when you're bored out of your mind and want a pointless website to mess with!

theuselessweb.com: takes you to a completely useless website, such as a page where it rains corndogs or a page where you can create different forms of art.

ashortjourney.com: lets you take a small and beautifully drawn trip on a trolley and pick up/drop off tiny creatures!

Forestopia: allows you to explore images of forests and the things inside, with background forest noises!

boredpanda.com: full of memes, funny stories, and more!

listverse: contains many lists, some horrifying (so be warned for those) and some just fascinating!

🍄 Focus Sites and Playlists

rainymood.com: a site/app that lets you listen to rain for as long as you want!

asoftmurmur.com: lets you listen to a variety of sounds like rain, thunder, or a fire!

Open ocean: 10 hours of underwater videography of a spot in the ocean!

imissmycafe.com: site that lets you listen to the noises of a coffee shop! You can change the different noises too :)

Secret Forest Playlist: peaceful music; 2 hours

Rain on Leaves on a Forest Road in Autumn: rain in the woods; 10 hours

Haunted Village Halloween Ambience: eerie but quiet music; 3 hours

Relaxing Autumn/Fall Forest: sounds of wind, crows, songbirds, and creaking trees; 7 hours

Chill Beats for Worldbuilding and Writing: Fabulous lofi music; 1 hour

It's Just a Dream/Dreamcore: Very peaceful and ambient music; 4 hours

Autumn Acoustic: Autumn inspired songs; 5 hours

Sad Piano Music: beautiful piano pieces by Jurrivh; 6 hours

The Most Relaxing Waves Ever: beach noises; 8 hours

Rural Autumn Ambience and Music: gentle autumn-y music; 1 hour

Yanni: a playlist of beautiful word-free music by Yanni

pov- you're a pirate: a pirate-themed playlist for inspiration

Have your own recommendations? Drop a comment or ask!

[i-am-baechu]

⋆｡°✩♬ ♪ My Melody ⁞ M. Yoongi

𝄞₊ ⊹ Summary: “A piano or guitar couldn’t explain how much I love you...”

𝄞₊ ⊹ Pairing: Established relationship; Yoongi x Deaf! Reader 

𝄞₊ ⊹ Rating: Pg - 14 

𝄞₊ ⊹ Genre: Little angst, fluff and romance 

𝄞₊ ⊹ Playlist: If Not For You - Maneskin 

Ivory keys that can tell a story and steel strings that complete it. That’s how Y/N described her relationship with Yoongi. A sweet and slow song. An easy song to dance to even to those that can’t dance. Two different lives that on paper, doesn’t make sense to be together but in their music, nothing else mattered. Yoongi came into her as loud as the echoes in an empty hall.

She finished writing her song when the door opened. She slowly looked up and her eyes met dark brown eyes that held kindness in them. She looked around the room and then back at her sheet music. She was writing away when she heard a guitar playing a sweet melody. She dropped her pen and turned towards the song, it was as if it was calling for her. She slowly walked towards him and continued to listen. 

“I like your playing.” 

Yoongi stopped mid-note and looked up to see her curious eyes. He glanced down at his guitar and let out a small cough, “Thanks...I heard you playing. I thought this would go well with it.”

Y/N turned around and grabbed her sheet music in excitement. She pulled up a chair to sit next to him with an excited smile, “You think so?”

He couldn’t help but smile at her excitement, “Want to try it?”

“I would love to...”

When she found out that he was famous, a whole new world was born. She didn’t care who he was. To the world he was Suga but to her...to her, he was Min Yoongi. The soft man who built her the nightstand when she was in need of one and the man who was with her from the very beginning. 

“Yoongi, I told you I was fine.”

He crossed his arms and closed the studio door with a frown. He turned towards her and sighed, “I don’t think so. You can’t hear when Hoseok is calling for you. I’m worried.”

Y/N looked away and frowned, “I have a check-up in the morning...you can come and tell them.” 

“Y/N, you-”

“I can’t ask them...I can’t.” 

Yoongi nodded his head and sat next to her. He placed his hand on her knee and she looked at him with a sad look, “I’ll get my shoulder looked at too...would that make you feel better?” 

She let out a small laugh and leaned into him. Her head on “his good shoulder” (something he called it), “We’re both messed up.” 

“Yeah that asshole hit us both-”

“Yoongi....” 

He kissed the top of her head and rubbed her knee, “I know...I know.” 

“Mrs. L/N, you're losing your hearing.” 

Y/N’s eyes widened at this and turned towards Yoongi, “What?” 

Yoongi frowned at this, “Babe, you’re losing your hearing.” 

Y/N’s mouth dropped and turned towards the doctor, “How?”

“When you hit your head from the car accident. I’m estimating that in a year, you’ll be deaf.” 

That’s when her life was restarted. She slowly couldn’t hear the melodies that Yoongi made in his studio or him rapping away with pure passion. She could hear small sounds but not the full sounds. It was heartbreaking for her in the beginning. The piano that Yoongi gifted her collected dust as she covered it with a white sheet. It wasn’t until Yoongi helped her play. 

It was their sixth anniversary and Yoongi had an idea. Y/N entered the room to see him with a guitar and she raised her eyebrow. She shook her head and sat in front of him with a frown. She signed to him as he watched with knowing eyes, “I can’t hear.” 

He gave her a small smile and nodded his head, “I know but...I bought this speaker so you can feel the vibrations.” 

She tilted her head at the special set up behind him and back at him, “An electric piano?”

Yoongi nodded his head in excitement, “I had the guy make sure that it was loud enough for you to feel the vibration.” 

A small tear escaped her eye and she watched him finish signing the last word. Her heart felt whole and she couldn’t stop herself from crying. She jumped into his arms and he sat there with a shocked look for a second but then he brought her closer. This was the moment she knew Yoongi was the one for her. True love like this was hard to find. This is what she wanted when she was a little girl. 

She stood in front of him in her white gown and at this moment, all she saw was him. Yoongi looked her up and down with pure love in his eyes. She was dressed in delicate lace and he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. He leaned down and kissed her forehead making the crowd laugh. He turned towards them and shrugged his shoulders, “I couldn’t help myself.” 

Yoongi took a deep breath and started signing his vows to her as she watched with tears ready to escape, “There’ll be no summer. There'll be no spring, if not for this love of mine. If not for you, I wouldn’t sing anymore. My melody on days that feel so dark. All those crowds and all the music would just fade out if you were gone. You took me out of my hell and you gave me heaven. Y/N, a piano or guitar couldn’t explain how much I love you but I hope my actions do. I can’t wait to be your husband and I want to experience everything with you. I love you so much, my melody.” 

[literaila]

listening ears 

tasm!peter x fem!reader 

summary: in which peter is terrible at keeping secrets. and socks. 

warnings: idiots to friends to lovers, no angst just pining, arguments, fluff, ahhhh

a/n: heres the link to the playlist. for a real time experience, listen. (this makes it sound like an amusement park which i think is funny)

word count: 10k

the first time you meet him, you're listening to sad music. 

it's unclear which song--being that it's late enough that they've begun to blur together, instrumental shifting to piano and soft sullen voices and heartbeats you can't hear but feel--but it rings in your ears as he walks by. 

as spider-man is suddenly in front of you, suddenly right in front of your bench, flashing blue and red and ego and playing with some weird white string between his fingers. 

you're also fairly certain that he's cursing. 

so, quietly, you hit pause on your phone, taking out an earbud. you watch him, hoping that he's already noticed your presence. 

hoping that maybe he'll leave and there will be no questioning--from either of you--about what you're doing out this late on a night like this. 

the snow on your head has melted, turning your hair several different forms of wet. 

and when spider-man has not looked up, or any other place he might be mugged, you, graciously, clear your throat. 

alerting him of your presence and beginning an attempt to beg him to leave. 

spider-man, unsurprisingly, jumps back. 

his white eyes are wide, but that might just be the costume. 

you smile and wave. 

"wha--" he looks around, behind himself, like you might be waving at someone else. "when did you get there?" he asks. 

his voice is quieter than you've heard it before. less animated. maybe a bit rough, or sore. 

you tilt your head, lifting a brow. "about an hour ago." 

spider-man stares blankly at you. "no." 

you contemplate laughing, or maybe tripping him with your leg as he peers closer at you, but ultimately hum. "okay." you drawl, "maybe i didn't." 

your smile is soft. your voice is abundantly sweet. 

you do not doubt that if spider-man wanted to, he could make both of you disappear in an instant. 

not that you're afraid, of course. you've seen the news. and experienced an average day in new york. 

spider-man tries again to pull his hands apart. fails. 

"sticky?" you ask him, swinging your legs. 

you think--but really just know--that spider-man glares at you. 

and then, with the subtleness of a child, he leans up again, straightening his back. clears his throat like he's got a lot to say. "what are you doing out so late?" 

his voice might be even deeper now, as some method of intimidation. 

unfortunately for him, you got over your fear of spiders a couple of months ago. 

"i could ask you the same thing," you respond. 

spider-man does not find this amusing, apparently, because he just stares at you. waiting and watching. 

eventually, maybe just to evade some awkward silence approaching, you sigh and relent. "i was drawing," you say, gesturing to the notebook you set aside. 

you don't tell him about the music, or your sore eyes. 

or about how when he first showed up you almost fell off the bench. 

these are things he probably doesn't need to know, you think. 

spider-man must frown or something because he grumbles out his next question. "drawing?" he repeats. "at three in the morning? in the dark?" 

"there's a light right there," you point to the streetlight above your head, the picture of innocence. 

you continue to smile at this man, if only because he seems to find it immensely irritating. 

"aren't you cold?" 

"the weather?" you furrow your brows, criticizing him. "c'mon, i thought you were better than that." 

"it's snowing." 

"i hadn't noticed." 

"your paper is getting wet--" he points to your notebook, to the soiled edges. 

it's the first thing to make you frown since he's shown up. 

"shit," you whisper, brushing some snow and lead off of the paper. "i liked this one." 

"sorry." spider-man clears his throat again. he bounces between feet like he's freezing. 

"is spandex warm?" you ask him, leaning forward. 

"i'm fine."

you frown. "are you always this grumpy? or is it just cause i scared ya?" 

"you didn't scare me." 

"must be the hands then," you say, leaning over so you can try and see the hands he's kept hidden behind his back. 

but spider-man pulls them out--two of them--wiggling his fingers. 

you frown. "how'd you do that?" 

spider-man doesn't answer. instead, he looks around, probably for someone to rescue him. 

unfortunately, everyone else went to bed hours ago. 

you grin at him, suddenly and smoothly, holding your notebook out to him. "wanna see?" 

spider-man is definitely judging the mess of a journal you have, but he takes it from you anyway, if a bit hesitantly. "whoa--" he says, turning it over. and then he pauses. 

he looks back to you. 

you smile. 

"this is a penis." 

you and maturity have never gotten along. 

you make an effort to keep a blank face--snickering internally at the dry way he says it--and shake your head. "no," you say, "if you turn it over it's a smile." 

spider-man does so. 

and surely behind the mask, he's doing a slow blink, probably scowling at you. 

"do you like it?" you ask him, keeping your voice soft and sincere. 

he hands it back to you, sighing. "you should head home." 

"so, no?" 

"really," he says, almost gently. "you'll get frostbite. there's a reason no one else is out." 

you blink, leaning back. "except you?" 

spider-man swings his arms back and forth. he looks away. "except me." 

"you can't get frostbite?" you guess. 

and spider-man, despite himself, tries to smother a laugh with a cough. but you hear it clearly enough. 

you furrow your brows as you peer at him. 

and so he points a finger at you, stern. "get packing." 

"what if i live on this bench?" 

he doesn't laugh this time. he just starts to walk away, eyes still on you. "if you're not gone in five minutes i'm swinging you home." 

"you don't know where i live," you say, calling his bluff. 

but he turns around, waving nonchalantly.

you watch him, maybe surprised or irritated. 

either way, you call after him. 

and he spares you a glance. 

"maybe i'll draw you next time," you say. 

and then he's gone, and you're switching playlists. 

*

when peter runs into the bathroom he's not really thinking about germs. 

or toilet seats or washing his hands, or, obviously, checking the stalls for anyone else in there. 

the fire alarm went off two minutes ago; anyone who remains, peter thinks, is probably not going to connect any dots between him and spider-man. 

and when he unzips his backpack, digging his suit out of one of the pockets and cursing as pencils and pens fall onto the ground, he wonders why he didn't iron it this morning. 

why he even tried to do laundry yesterday, considering that he's not very good at it and may has definitely noticed. 

still, he kicks his shoes off. 

the floor isn't wet this time, peter's thinking, so thank god for that. 

he swings his jacket off of his shoulders and hurries to unbutton his pants. 

there's a gentle buzzing of a fan in the corner, only slightly drowned out by the siren that is giving peter a headache. and flashing lights. and people running by. 

and lots of chances to get caught, but not enough care in the world. 

and if peter focuses enough, he can hear some type of music playing, somewhere close. 

loud bass, quick rhythm. 

he almost pauses to think about it, and then decides against it.

he flings his pants onto the floor, folding his shirt over his head. 

it is very cold in this bathroom. 

still, peter slides his socks off, hating the tiled floors, and internally screaming when one of the socks falls under the stall, disappearing to places that peter does not have time to look in. 

and then he's squeezing into a very irritating suit. 

trying to remind himself what the greater good is and blah blah blah. . . 

but his arms are sore as he tries to zip it up, jumping to reach. 

peter is insanely grateful for doors and peace and quiet and advil, of course. 

and finally--finally--when he has the suit on, he scrambles to pick up everything he left on the floor while also putting his web-slingers on. 

a good effort, really. 

he sticks his backpack to the wall, promising himself that he's not going to forget it. 

and then he unlocks his stall, beginning to step out when he catches a glance of you. 

standing right in front of him, white earbud dangling toward the ground, proud smirk as you hold his sock up. 

peter pauses. he stares at you. 

you tap an innocent finger on your chin. "aren't you supposed to check the bathroom before you change?" 

peter's first move is to try and grab the sock from your hand. but you, swift on your feet, duck away, humming to yourself. 

"you're gonna go save a bunch of people with a sock in your hand?" you ask him.

peter thinks for a moment--not about socks, thank god--if you were standing in there when he walked in. 

if you had paused when he burst through the door, not thinking about what bathroom this was or any person who might've stuck around. if your eyes were wide and mischievous--as they are now--when he quickly ducked into a stall. 

but he knows, really, that you weren't there. 

because, peter recognizes, he wouldn't have been able to miss you. 

still, you're smirking at him. 

"better get out there, spider-man," you say, gesturing towards the door. 

and peter doesn't have the time to curse at you because you're right. 

he doesn't bother to try and grab his sock again. 

and when peter opens the door he can hear it--

your laugh. 

and a gentle throbbing of another one bites the dust coming from your headphones. 

*

you're trying not to laugh. 

really, it's an extreme effort as you store the snort deep inside your chest, trying to melt the smile off of your face. 

you are squirming in your seat as your sternum begs for some sort of relief. 

and you contemplate leaving the library before this goes too far. before you start cackling in his face, unable to hold back--even if he gives you a weird look and everyone else around you starts complaining. 

there's not much you can do to stop it, honestly, not when you've been sitting here, studying, for the last hour, music lulling you almost to sleep. and not when the boy who is now sitting in the cubicle next to you kicked his feet out, revealing some scruffed up converse. 

and of course, some mismatched socks. 

when you looked down--in a moment of weakness, dropping some type of pencil--you had to do a double take. 

not that you can judge this boy, who you've been studying for the last five minutes and his choice of attire. you lose your own socks all of the time. 

but there's a grey sock, plain and casual and not unlike your own. and then, just a couple of inches over, there's another sock. this one with a striped, colorful pattern, and words on the other side that you can't really read--for lack of view--but recognize almost immediately. 

because, coincidently, you have the same sock in your backpack, awaiting a certain visitor. 

and so, as soon as you looked up at this boy, the amusement crowded your not-so-subtle eyes. 

he's got brown hair, a frown on his face as he reads a textbook that looks much more than dreadful. his chin is jutted out, his teeth idly munching on the lip between them. a headphone in one ear.

and, of course, this boy doesn't look over. he seems almost unaware of your presence. 

and maybe that's what makes this so funny. 

being that you've experienced this a couple of times now, and it's getting really hard to not say anything about it. 

synchronicities, you know, can only go on for so long. 

and this boy--this strange, somewhat attractive boy--is blissfully ignorant. 

and you can't believe that he's wearing those socks in public.

you clear your throat, smile unstoppable now. 

but he doesn't look over. 

and you cover your mouth, shaking your head and turning yourself completely so that when he finally does decide to look over, he will know that you've been staring at him. 

he will know that there's no avoiding this interaction. 

which, for some strange reason, you're getting immense pleasure out of. 

if you listen close enough you can hear the music he's playing. 

some melancholy guitar music, completely what you would've assumed from him. 

it makes you smile even wider. 

you clear your throat again, leaning forward, legs crossed on your chair. 

you kind of want to make him jump. 

"excuse me," you say, softly. good enough to not draw any attention in this library. 

though, your smile might be enough to raise some eyebrows. 

the boy looks over, eyes wide and attentive. 

you note his face as he takes you in. 

"i was just wondering," you continue, innocently, "where you got your socks?" 

you have rendered this boy speechless. which you seem to do a lot of. 

you cough. "i mean, sock." 

he looks down, to his feet, and then to you, seeming to understand. you catch a smudge of panic in his eyes, carefully glazed over as he opens his mouth, trying to say something. 

he scratches his neck. blinking, with his mouth open, like he's trying to make sure that you're actually there. 

and, to be honest, this is exactly what you imagined of him. 

"lose all of your other pairs, too? or do you just like the look of clashing colors?" you blink at him, leaning back. 

he takes a deep breath. "i'm sorry?" 

"i mean," you shrug, turning back to your desk, "if it were me, i probably wouldn't wear those. especially when someone might have the exact same sock. but, to each their own." 

"you--" he awkwardly laughs. "i just, um, found this. in the bathroom." 

"was it in a backpack stuck to the wall?" you look back to him--his wide, scared, doe eyes--polite smile on your face. 

"actually, i bought them yesterday. they came like this." 

"interesting design choice," you respond. 

and the boy, who is still staring at you, though not quite as breathless now, ducks down, leaning closer to you. "what do you want?" he whispers, eyes glaring. 

"excuse me?" you whisper back.

"i'll--whatever it is, i'll try and get it. just don't--please don't tell anyone." 

you frown, resting your head on a hand. "tell anyone what?" 

"what you--" he looks around for anyone who might be listening. "what you know." 

you tilt your head, questioning, and amused eyes. 

"about me," he clarifies, almost hissing. 

you lean back, studying him. "we just met," you say, with a hand to your chest. 

he glares back. 

"i won't spread your questionable fashion choices around the school if that's what you mean." 

this boy still doesn't laugh. just like the first time, and the second, he seems to find you distasteful. almost annoying. 

and honestly, that might be the only thing fueling this fire in your veins. this want to mess with him until he drops. 

"seriously," he says, angry, "what do you want from me?" 

"just to know where you bought those." 

and then, as quietly and quickly as possible, you bend down to dig into your backpack, smiling in satisfaction as you find it, and then leaning back up, handing it to him. 

"i wouldn't leave those around," you whisper. "you never know who might try and copy you." 

you are almost threatening him. 

the boy glowers. "i don't know what you're talking about." 

you shrug, turning away again. 

but he grabs your arm. "what?" he demands, again and again. 

his eyes are angry, his face is hard and he's leaning away from you like you might reach out and turn him to dust. 

but you only smile, asking sweetly "what's your name?" 

he stares for a moment, blinking. "what?" 

"i think maybe we have met before," you answer. "you seem familiar." 

the boy grinds his teeth together. 

but you wait, shoving that chuckling down your chest. 

"peter," he says, the word mad and tough. 

"peter," you repeat, looking away from him. "nice to meet you. i'm y/n." 

you reach to shake his hand, and he stares at it like it's poison. 

you roll your eyes. "don't worry," you add, softly. "i haven't forgotten. i still have to draw you." 

his frown increases. 

and you laugh as you turn away, thinking about secrets. 

and listening to the music in peter's ears, still drifting over. 

*

peter is not really paying attention tonight. 

he roamed around all day--because there was nothing else to do--talking to strangers and not having to smile for pictures, just hoping for something to pop up. 

and it did, and then it didn't. 

when the problems are easy to fix, peter knows, they're less enjoyable. 

still, the distraction was nice. 

and you are not as you sit on a bench in front of him, smiling. 

you've got that look on your face--the one that makes peter want to run away. 

especially because you know who he is. 

because he's been especially reckless the past couple of weeks, and as a consequence, you have shown up. you have smiled at him, whispering gentle words and even gentler promises. 

and you've got a pencil in your hands. 

a glint in your eyes that peter's seen somewhere before. 

"fancy seeing you here," you say, amused. this is the same bench he passed by on the first night--when he was thinking about going home but didn't. 

peter curses his own stupid decisions; the difference that they could've made. 

"are you going to threaten me again?" peter asks, not really joking, though his voice gives nothing away. 

"i don't know what you're talking about." 

you're shrugging, looking away from him as your lips curl at the corners. 

and then you look back up. "you never did answer my question about the socks, though." 

peter rolls his eyes, though he doesn't miss the way he moves forward, trying to catch a glance at the surely explicit picture you're drawing. 

curiosity is a curse. 

"aren't you cold?" peter merely repeats. 

"it's not snowing. so, no." 

peter grunts. "another body part?" he nods toward the picture you're drawing, the thing you've chosen to look at instead of him. 

"a foot," you grin up at him, eyebrows raise. "though, if you wanted. . . i could get started on my picture of you." 

peter wishes you could see his frown. 

still, he takes another step towards you. "how much?" 

"hmm?" 

"how much are you charging for it?" 

peter watches you stifle a laugh, feels the pin-prick of pleasure in his chest. "only a smile," you say, head tilted. 

"no thanks, then." 

"c'mon, spider-man," you complain. "you're so much nicer to everyone else." 

"everyone else hasn't threatened me." 

you pout. "i won't tell anyone," you tell him, eyes wide, "if that's what you're worried about." 

peter doesn't answer, just stares at you. looking for any tells. 

"i mean," you continue, shrugging. "not that anyone would believe me. you've got enough frown lines to put me to shame." 

as if to prove your point, peter frowns. "what's that supposed to mean?" 

"well, i don't think anyone else has ever heard spider-man so much as grumble. so you. . ." you scrutinize him, nose wrinkled. "you couldn't be him." 

peter narrows his eyes. 

but you smile again, patting the bench next to you. "sit." 

"i can't. i'm working." 

you roll your eyes, sighing. "i'm the only one here. wouldn't you be better off watching me? just to make sure i don't do anything." 

you smile at him, and it's more vicious than kind. 

peter notes your eyes and the secretive glances you're giving him. 

you might be right. 

so he shrugs and moves to sit down next to you. 

he's been closer, anyway. 

you flip to another page, looking up at him, then down. 

and so it begins. 

you hum as you draw him, and peter taps his fingers on the bench, feeling nervous and uncomfortable, and mostly, hating that he's allowed himself to do this. 

maybe just to keep in your good graces. 

"what classes are you taking?" you ask him after a couple of minutes go by. 

"what?" 

"last week," you say, head tilting. erasing something on the paper. you've tilted it up on your knees, leaning against the arm of the bench, so peter can't see. "you were studying. that textbook looked horrible." 

peter lets his lip perk up. 

"what were you studying for?" 

"a chemistry midterm." 

you look at him, eyes just a bit tired. "you're into science?" you ask, almost doubtful. 

peter crosses his arms. 

"i mean, no offense or anything--" you smile as you say it. "--but i would've picked you for a music major. or business." 

peter understands the implication. he doesn't say anything. 

"gym major?" you ask, stealing a glance at his arms, laughing to yourself. 

"what about you?" he asks, suddenly leaning forward. "i didn't realize there were classes on how to manipulate someone." 

"that's called law," you respond, dryly. "and i'm an art major." 

peter is sure you can feel his raised brow. 

you roll your eyes, sighing as you relent. "fine. undecided. but i'm figuring it out." 

you smile again like you know something he doesn't. 

another minute passes, peter listening to the wind and your pencil as you scribble against the page. 

"how long is this going to take?" peter asks, looking up, wondering how long he's been here. 

"you can't rush art." 

"i can when it's annoying me." 

you don't look at him, but peter watches as you tense. he almost catches himself--the words he's just spoken and accidentally let out--and decides not to say anything. 

maybe you'll forget about it. 

"so," you drawl, after thirty seconds of awkward silence. "you're a chemist." 

"engineer." 

you scoff. "sorry, but that means the same thing to me." 

peter snorts back. 

"how old are you?" you ask him, brow furrowed as you concentrate. 

"i'm not telling you." 

you raise a brow, but don't look at him. "why not?" 

"you'll just add it to the file." 

you don't say anything. 

"the file of things you know about me." 

there's a quirk on your face, the clearing of your throat. "i was serious," you tell him, again. "i'm not going to tell anyone. i respect your privacy." 

peter gives you a dubious look. 

"i respect your anonymity," you revise, giving him a grin. "and if you keep moving your face i'm going to mess up your portrait." 

"are you actually an artist?" peter asks, "or is this a ploy to get unsuspecting strangers to stop?" 

"guess," you say. 

"i'm going with the latter." 

you shrug, not looking at him. "i've been told worse. but i think you're really going to like this."

peter doubts that, but he doesn't say anything. 

and another tens minutes pass--in which you scrutinize everything about the suit he designed, snorting when he argues back--and then you're tearing out a page, smiling at him.

"i mean it," you tell him, "next time i see you i want a smile." 

"i could be smiling right now." 

you stare at him. 

"just give it to me." 

you laugh, putting your notebook in the bag next to you. "just don't look until i'm gone, okay?" 

"you don't want to watch my reaction?" 

"i don't think i need to." 

and peter watches as you put everything else away--pencils and erasers and stick of charcoal. he pauses when he finally notices the headphones you tuck into your bag. 

"you were listening to something before i got here?" 

you just nod, zipping up your bag. 

"what?" 

you look up at him, eyes daring. "guess," you say. 

"kanye?" 

you scoff. "please." 

"miley cyrus?" 

you tilt your head, "i would be more likely to listen to the hannah montana soundtrack." 

"metallica?" 

you nod, lips pursing. "you got it, spider-man. i'm a metal kinda girl." 

peter could've told you that. 

but you're smirking before he can respond, pulling the pencil back out, flipping over the paper, and concealing it with your hand so that he can't see. 

"there," you say, after forty-five seconds of scribbling. "now it's finished." 

you put the pencil away, standing up. 

"i'll see you soon," you say to him, nodding. "and that smile." 

peter snorts. 

and then you're walking away, waving an idle hand goodbye as you turn the corner. peter watches until you're gone, making sure that you're not going to pop back out when he least suspects it, and then he slides over on the bench, finally grabbing the paper. 

he flips it over to find a black-and-white picture of himself, every slope and curve of his suit that he recognizes in the mirror. 

and he knows, for sure, that you lied to him. or he lied to you. 

it wasn't the latter. 

still, somewhat amazed, smiling under his mask, his eyes drift down to the words you've written at the corner of the page. 

you are a call to motion, it says. there, all of you, a verb in perfect view. 

and then another foul "smiley face." peter almost laughs. 

when you move, you've written, i move. 

and your number at the very bottom, scribbled a bit recklessly. 

peter memorizes the numbers before he swings home.  

*

you get the first text three days later. 

your phone vibrates in your pocket as you're waiting in line at a coffee shop, watching the people around you move with creases in their brows. 

your fingers itch for the notebook in your bag. 

and when you read the screen, you're a bit confused. 

a text from an unknown number, and all it says is: 

you lied. 

you frown, thinking of who you might've irritated in the past couple of days. 

it only takes a couple of seconds to recall the boy who you've messed with the most. 

peter and the scowls he's given you. 

you smile, knowing what he means. 

and then you send him the spotify link to enter sandman. 

*

peter rolls his eyes when he gets the message. still, he clicks on the link, plugging his headphones into the jack. 

he walks while he listens, wincing at the words. 

and when it's finished--when peter officially decides that he's finished with you--he sends back another link. 

one to the song you wrote out for him, the song you happened to lie about. 

are you flirting with me? he asks, trying not to let himself regret it. 

or smile as he sees the little bubble at the bottom of the screen, letting him know that you're still there. 

you send an emoji of a spider back and peter's smile fades. 

*

you're laughing as you type, you still owe me a smile. 

you move up in the line, trying not to stumble over the shoes of the person in front of you, scowling when peter sends you a scowl back. 

not literally, of course. but it's been two minutes since he read the text, and he has not answered. 

which, you think, is very rude. 

is that a no? you type out. 

peter merely says: you owe me a song.

so you send him knee socks, by arctic monkeys. 

and you forget what to order when you get up to the counter.

*

peter begins to look for you before he walks around any corner. 

he's avoided that bench, thinking that if he gets too close, too soon, you will get bored. 

that you might've already after you sent him that song and he had nothing good to send you back. 

he's been thinking about it for the past couple of days. 

while he studies, and showers, goes to class, and swings from building to building, staring down at tiny people and thinking that one of them might be you. 

but you haven't shown up. peter thinks maybe you've been hiding out too. 

maybe worried because he hasn't texted back. 

but then he corrects himself; he can't imagine you worried about anything. 

still, he peeks around the corner before he moves, waiting for your cheeky smile and irritating laughter. 

instead, he finds a crowd of people that he doesn't know, and who don't know him. 

not that you do either. 

peter is listening to music as he walks. trying to pretend that there is no correlation between you and this song. 

he moves around the people, keeping his eyes low. he says hello to anyone who says anything to him. he smiles at strangers and reminds himself how to be polite. 

he thinks about how mean he's been to you, and wonders if it just comes naturally. 

and when he gets home, kissing may on the cheek and walking up to his room, happy to finally put down his backpack and all of the books in it, he's still thinking about you. 

thinking about the picture he's put on his wall, and your simple handwriting underneath it. neat and smooth, nothing like he'd expected it to be. 

he's thinking about you as he gets undressed, sliding on his suit and staring at the socks he's left on the floor. 

when you know who's callin' even though the number is blocked. . . 

peter shakes his head, kicking them under his bed. 

but, right before he leaves, he grabs his phone from his bed, angrily clicking on a playlist. 

and then he sends you another link, about a week later. 

and he doesn't have it in him to question it. 

*

you awake from your nap to a text. 

the name at the top of your screen just says "itsy bitsy," because you were a little bit delirious and thought it was hilarious when you put him in your contacts a week and two days ago. 

you almost smile at the notification, and then catch yourself. 

spider-man, peter, has sent you a link to love grows (where my rosemary goes). 

you click on it, smirking as you do so. 

and then two minutes and fifty-four seconds later, you finally text him again. 

are you busy tomorrow?

*

"you're my muse now," you say to him, pointing to a stool. 

you sent peter the directions to an art studio, about three minutes off campus, and told him to come at noon. 

it is 12:23 and you haven't stopped smiling at peter since he walked in. 

"any song suggestions?" you ask him, wide eyes and tilted head and that devious smile that runs goosebumps up his arms. 

peter clears his throat. 

"no," he says. "pick whatever," 

you asked him to pose for you. told him that he owed you at least that, if not some laughter. 

and peter disagreed, but didn't argue. 

and now he's not quite sure why. 

you put on some soft guitar music, going to a shelf in the corner of the room to grab something. 

"how's my bench?" you ask him as you move back over to him and sit on the ground. 

peter frowns. "i don't know." 

you pull out a notebook, scoffing. "you're telling me that you haven't checked it once in the past week?" 

"nope." 

"aren't you supposed to be like the protector of new york city, or whatever?" you blow some hair out of your eyes as you say it. 

"that typically applies to people." 

"except me," you grumble, under your breath. 

peter's lip twitches. 

"what are you doing, again?" he asks. 

"well, i figured since i drew spider-man, the least i can do is also draw peter." 

"you said i was a terrible statue." 

"you are," you laugh at him, "but you've got a nice face." 

peter pretends not to feel it as he flushes. 

"i won't show anyone," you tell him, "if you don't want me to. but it would be nice for my still art class." 

"so you are an artist," peter says, attempting to evade your subtle question. 

"only in my dreams. i'm also taking algebra, economics, and philosophy 101." 

peter frowns. 

"i'll declare next year," you tell him, frowning as you erase something. 

"as an art major?" 

you grin at him, but the peter that's on the paper. "wouldn't you like to know?" 

peter doesn't answer that. 

he watches you as you draw him, peeking an eye on the side of his face every couple of moments, and smiling when you catch him staring at you. 

"what's your last name?" you ask him, breaking the silence. 

another song plays, and peter still doesn't recognize it. 

"parker." 

you snort. "figures." 

his brows furrow. "what does that mean?" 

"of course, you would have a superhero-ey name." 

"what's yours?" 

"y/l/n." 

peter laughs. 

you frown. "what?" 

"of course, you would have an annoying-sounding name." 

you glare at him, but peter doesn't miss the twitch of your lip. "don't copy me, parker." 

"don't make it so easy." 

and you don't say anything back, instead choosing to focus down at the paper, but peter notices the little chuckle that falls from your mouth. the silent sneer in your eyes. 

"what?" he asks after it doesn't go away. 

"i think that was the first time you've actually teased me." 

you don't say the rest of it. and peter doesn't acknowledge how comfortable he feels, sitting on this stool as you stare up at him, watching you as you look back. 

"you can use it," he says, suddenly. 

"what?" 

"the picture. for your class."

you don't say anything, but nod in acknowledgment. 

and peter feels like an idiot as the silence drifts. feels like he shouldn't have said anything, shouldn't have agreed to this.

and the song changes again, a soft, melodic sound. 

peter almost smiles. 

"is this opera?" he asks, heavily judging you. 

you grin, dropping your notebook on the ground and standing up. you take a step closer to him, leaning in. 

"shut your mouth and see," you whisper to him. 

peter is almost offended, brows furrowed as he stares at you and how close you are. 

but then someone else echoes the words back, and you begin to dance, holding a hand out to invite him to join. 

peter does, memorizing the slow movement of your hips as he stands up, feeling like his limbs are heavier than they were only four minutes ago. 

and the two of you dance to only angel like no one's watching. 

peter listens to you sing the words under your breath. 

i must admit i thought i'd like to make you mine.

*

you are humming to yourself when you get the phone call. 

when your hand stumbles, pencil creating a harsh line over the drawing you've spent the last twenty minutes hating. you scowl at your hand, and then your phone, for interrupting. 

until you see peter's face on the screen. 

the picture you took of the picture you drew of him, scowling at you like he seems to do a lot of. 

you don't smile, but bite your lip as you press the little green button. 

"hello?" 

"hey," peter says, voice soft. he clears his throat. "what're you up to?" his voice is suddenly louder like he's using a microphone. 

you smile, glad that he can't see it. 

"just laughing at this picture of you." 

"from last week?" 

"yup." 

"really?" 

you roll your eyes, hoping he can feel it. "no," you drawl. "i was just working on something new. what's up?" 

"do you like movies?" 

*

after that, peter doesn't have to avoid you. 

he doesn't look for you around any corners, because you've already leaned forward, already allowed him to see your smile and guess what you might be thinking about. 

"hey," you say to him as you match his stride. "how was class?" 

"boring," peter answers, accepting the earbud you hold out to him. 

"of course, it was," you grin at him, "i wasn't there." 

and peter just barely laughs, feeling a bit light when you smile back, face full of some sort of victory. 

you play a song about being cold, and peter completely understands.

*

"i can't believe you got me to agree to this," you say to him as you open the door. 

you're wearing a dress. pretty and flowing and completely surprising peter, if his face says anything. 

"wow," he says, coughing. then clearing his throat. then coughing again. "it's--you look nice." 

you scowl. "i look terrible." 

peter just chuckles, looking down again, then at your eyes like he's forgotten something. 

you just glare at him, waiting for him to tell you that you don't have to come. 

but peter holds his hand out to you. "ready?" he asks. 

"no. because i'm not going." you try and close the door in his face. 

peter pushes it back, just smiling softly at you. 

finally, you understand why he's been so irritated and cruel to you. if your smile is anything like his, then his reaction is completely rational. 

"it'll be fine," peter coos, reaching a hand out to comfortingly--and condescendingly--rub your shoulder. 

"it's a banquet," you say, just barely getting the words out. "for science." 

"it's a party for engineering majors. i invited you a week ago and you didn't say anything--" 

"all of your teachers will be there," you correct him, staring daggers. "if there are adults there, then it's not a party. and you made it sound fun." 

"we're adults." 

"i'm an adult, peter. you are a child. you are childish for tricking me into this." 

"tricking you?" peter laughs, eyes gleaming. "i don't remember that part of the conversation." 

you, suddenly, smile sweetly at him. "i don't know if you've heard," you whisper, smoothly, "but this is going to be terrible." 

he grabs your hand, rolling his eyes. "it'll be boring, maybe, but not terrible. i'll stay with you the whole time." 

you frown. then say again, in the same, all-knowing tone, "i don't know if you knew this about me, peter parker, but i'm terrible at boring. or being serious. or talking to people." 

"you talk to me just fine--" 

"as soon as anyone says anything i'll start laughing. it's a nervous reaction, i can't control it." 

"i'll put a hand over your mouth." 

"that's a violation of my boundaries." 

peter snorts, "look, not that i'm not enjoying this--" 

you pinch his arm, shaking your hand out of his. 

"--but we're going to be late. we can talk about your chortling on the way there--" 

"chortling?!" 

"witch cackle, guffaw, whatever," peter corrects. 

"you are not making me want to go with you." 

"c'mon," peter whines, catching your hand again. "you're my plus one. everyone will think i'm a loser if i show up without you." 

"they already think that," you hiss at him, moving back again. "and anyway, i can't walk in these." 

you gesture down to the heels you dug out of your closet. 

it took you two hours to get ready, simply because you were stressed out enough to absolutely ruin every outfit you put on. 

"i'll die, peter," you say, staring at him desperately. "die." 

he raises a brow. "you can put on different shoes." 

"you're a man." you wave a hand, scoffing at him. "what do you know about fashion?" 

peter shakes his head. "okay, if your feet get sore, i'll carry you." 

you stare at him blankly. "i highly doubt that, noodle arms." 

the smile that appears on your face is one of satisfaction. 

but peter rolls his eyes and doesn't bother to correct you. 

"look," he says, pulling his phone out. "i brought my phone so we can listen to music. i'll let you pick." 

you look away from his eyes to the strand between his fingers. then back to him. "you promise?" 

"sure," peter says, almost snorting. "and anyway, i heard that there might be karaoke and you know that--" 

as soon as he says the words, you're turning around, grabbing your purse from the table by your door, and locking it. you shut it, reaching for peter's hand. 

"alright," you smile, easily. "let's go." 

peter laughs as you begin to drag him along. 

you sing along to sexy silk while you walk with him, just to keep the smile on his face. 

*

"hey," you say to him as you pick up the camera on his desk. "you didn't tell me about this." 

peter looks over, noting your frown and the furrow between your brows. he's sitting on your bed while you canvas his room, making fun of everything he's got in there. 

not to mention the way you almost died of laughter when you saw your drawing on his wall, telling him that he's a dirty little liar, then smiling a secretive smile at it. 

not that peter noticed.

still, he sits up, watching as you click on some button. 

"there are lots of things i don't tell you about," he says, smoothly, and smiles at you. 

your scowl grows. "you've got a camera?" you ask. 

and then, after peter doesn't bother answering that and another moment passes, your jaw drops. 

"you've taken pictures of me?" you demand, pointing to a moment he got a week ago, minutes before he met you for lunch. 

"that's not you," peter lies, and goes to take it from your hands.

but you pull away. 

"when did you do this?" 

peter hesitates for a moment, but he sees the look on your face. "last week." 

"why didn't i notice?" 

peter smiles. "because you are particularly unobservant." 

you glare. 

". . . and because i was about twenty feet away, and ten minutes early." 

"peter," you complain and whine. "why wouldn't you tell me about this?" 

"didn't want to steal your thing." 

"i don't have a camera." 

he shakes his head. "no, art, or something." 

"you're lying," you say, peering at him. "that's your lying face." 

he holds a hand to his chest, mock offended. 

but you don't say anything as you put the camera back on his desk, frowning at the window and avoiding his eyes. 

peter watches for a moment, at the pout on your face and how soft and smooth your skin looks. 

he thinks about you dancing and almost forgets that you're mad at him. 

"hey," he whispers to you, hand reaching out. "i'm sorry i didn't tell you. i didn't realize that you'd want to know." 

"of course, i want to know," you mumble. peter thinks you might be saying something else.

"well, now you do." 

"i also know about your ninja turtle underwear," you say, with a hint of a smile on your face. 

"yeah," peter says, standing up. "and you can hold it against me forever. i won't even complain." 

you look over at him, raising your brows. "really?" 

"mhmm." 

and then you purse your lips, pretending to consider it. "okay, i guess," you say, as a means to forgive him. 

and peter is glad about that. glad when you walk over to him, pushing his shoulder. 

"but don't do that again," you tell him, almost as a threat. 

"do what?" 

"keep a secret from me." 

peter almost winces, but decides to smile instead. "you already know all of them," he says, simply. 

and you smile back. 

he doesn't quite let himself believe that it's a lie. doesn't think about you being mad, or what you might do if you found out. 

he just sighs, reaching over you to pick up the camera. 

"do you want to see more pictures?" he asks you. 

and then delights in the eager way you nod back. 

*

you are humming along to the song playing from peter's phone as you doodle on the piece of paper in front of you. 

you don't know the name, but peter's played it often enough that you know the words. 

and, coincidentally, he's laying his head in your lap--claiming a headache--as you play with his hair. 

he is almost distracting you as you attempt to draw a pretty little spider on his bedside table. 

peter hums back, but it's not to the song. 

"what?" you ask him, pausing your hand. 

peter reaches up, moving it for you, and you snort. 

"okay, okay," you say to him, and scratch his scalp some more. 

"are you ruining my table?" 

"no more than you already have." 

peter groans, but doesn't bother to look up. you know that he knows that you're not drawing anything on it. 

you smile down at him, then get back to the tiny sticky note you found in his drawer. 

the pen you stole from the dining table downstairs. 

you sing to him, to yourself, and minutes pass, and the song changes. 

but you picked this one, and peter doesn't complain. 

"do you feel any better?" you whisper to him, refraining from calling him a big baby. 

"no. keep going," peter grunts. 

you scoff but listen. 

"look," you tell him, holding the drawing in front of his face. "do you like it?" 

"pretty," peter mumbles. 

but he doesn't even open his eyes. 

so you flick him in the nose, raising a brow. "you didn't even look, you idiot." 

"don't be mean to me," peter whines, "i'm in pain." 

"you refuse to take any medicine."

"you're close enough," he whispers, and you try not to feel anything at the words. 

"just one eye," you say to him, pulling at his skin. 

and peter relents, staring at the picture you've drawn for him. "are you trying to be funny?" 

it's a spider, sure, but a very hilarious interpretation of it swinging and falling off a building, and then, a couple of feet away, a picture of it being smooshed. 

you grin. "i think you should put it on your next suit." 

"i'll think about it," peter says, and closes his eyes again. 

you laugh at him and hope he can feel it. 

sing along to the song until peter falls asleep. 

i wouldn't fall for someone i thought couldn't misbehave. 

*

when peter wakes up, he's alone. 

he wonders when you disappeared and where you went. he aches for the feeling of your hands in his hair and your smile and laughter as he wakes up. 

it's dark outside though, so peter's glad that you're at home, at least, hopefully sleeping. 

he looks at the clock, frowning at the numbers. 

he sits up, head buzzing and blinking until he can see. 

and then he walks over to the bathroom, figuring that he should probably brush his teeth. 

and when he goes back to his bed, back aching and thinking about you, he notices the sticky note you've put on his wall, right next to the picture you drew of him. 

he smiles at it, glad you put it there, where he probably would've put it anyway. 

and there's another one, right next to your bed. 

you're lame and you fell asleep, it says, don't worry, you didn't drool. 

peter smiles, appreciating your handwriting. he puts it on his wall, right next to the other one. 

and then he texts you. 

when did you leave? 

you answer almost immediately: about an hour ago. 

it's one in the morning, and peter frowns. 

did you walk home alone? 

yup! 

he scowls, immediately dialing you. 

"hello?" you say, singing it. 

peter wonders how you have so much energy, but doesn't give himself the time to dwell on it. 

"you walked home alone?" he asks again. 

"yes, peter." 

"in the dark?" 

you hum. 

he's scowling, wishing you were there so you could see how serious he is. "don't do that," he says. 

"peter," you sigh, snorting a bit. 

"you shouldn't be walking home by yourself." 

"might i remind you that you fell asleep? who else was i going to ask at midnight? may?" 

"you could've woken me up." 

peter hears you laugh. 

"aw," you say, "but, baby, you just looked so peaceful." 

peter almost flinches at the words, because you're not being serious and still-- 

"promise me that you will, next time." 

you laugh again. "okay, peter. i'll uber home next time." 

"you'll wake me up." 

"please," you tell him, "i don't have a death wish." 

*

you are frowning as he sits in front of you, but trying not to. 

you're trying to keep a calm face and a smooth mind and repair peter without him figuring out a single thing about you. 

without getting into another fight with him. 

but he knows you, much better than you'd like. 

"what?" he whispers to you, the words soft on your cheek. 

he's got bruises sprinkled over his abdomen. a bright red cut on his cheek. a black eye and fingers that look more like pens than limbs. 

still, you're trying not to be too rough with him. 

trying to clean these wounds without opening up any others. 

"nothing." 

"you're frowning." 

"you've got a big cut on your face." 

he grabs your hand, stopping your movement as you dab at it. "you're frowning," he repeats, a bit louder. 

you sigh and look away. "peter. . ." 

"you're mad at me?" he asks, tilting your head back to him. 

you're three inches away from him, staring. 

and you don't even need to answer, because it takes one look from you, and peter nods. 

"okay," he says, turning his cheek so you can clean the cut again. 

you do. 

and you listen to his breathing, hearing your own heart pound in your ear, staying silent. 

there's not much you can say to him without wanting to scream. 

"are you going to tell me why?" he asks you, minutes later, when you've had to replace the water so it's not so cold. 

you hum. rub some ointment on the wound, apologizing when peter winces. 

"y/n," he says, tilting his head. he's smiling at you like it might get you to break. 

"you're not taking this seriously," you complain, closing your eyes. you move back, just for peter to move forward. 

"hey," he says, grabbing your hand again. his eyes meet yours. "i'm okay." 

"you're hurt," you argue, frowning, concern piercing your brows. "you had to come here so i could patch you up." 

peter swallows. "i wanted to see you." 

"no," you shake your head at him. "you can barely move that arm. you limped in here." 

"it'll be fine by tomorrow." 

you scoff. "but it's not fine now peter!" you whisper the words, but with enough force that he moves back, his eyes wide and his brow furrowing, as if he's just realized how serious you are. 

"you're really mad?" 

you shake your head, looking away from him. "i'm scared for you, and i'm mad because you don't even care. every time," you say, "you just brush it off. tell me that it'll be fine." 

"because i will," peter swears, trying to catch your eyes. 

"but what if you're not?" you ask him, just whispering the words, your voice breaking. "what if you come here," you look back to him, tears evident. "and i can't do anything to help you?" 

peter starts to say something, tries to brush the liquid away, but you flinch back. 

"no. what if someone else has to move the mask? what if they see you, but you're already--" you stop, not wanting to say the words. 

and before you can blink or breathe, peter has wrapped an arm around you, crushing you to his skin. 

he apologizes and holds you close, breathing slowly as you try to catch your breath. 

he whispers in your ear, rubbing your back. 

"i'm sorry," he says, "i didn't realize." 

and you know that. and you know that this argument isn't quite fair. 

"i promise i'll be careful. i promise, okay?" 

you nod against his neck, breathing him in. 

and a moment passes, and you try to memorize the feeling of being this close to him. 

and then you whisper, "you're my best friend, peter. i don't know what i would do without you." 

and it's only partly a lie. 

"i know," peter says, moving back so that he can look you in the eye. "i know." 

you try and smile at him, and he tries and smiles back. 

"okay," you whisper. 

and then you notice the small wince on peter's face. 

you frown. "what?" 

peter looks down to where your stomach has brushed against the cuts on his and clears his throat. "ouch," he says. 

you meet his eyes and laugh.

*

peter knocks on your door, waiting.

he hasn't seen you in a couple of days, and you haven't been answering the phone. 

he hears someone move around. hears a lurking at the door. 

"y/n?" he calls. "i can hear you." 

but you don't answer. 

so peter knocks again, checking his phone for any sign of you, and staring at the door. 

all he gets is a quick "read" message, and then silence. 

he sighs. 

"c'mon," he calls again. "just open the door, or text me, and i'll leave." 

but you do neither. 

peter scowls. "i'm not gonna go," he tells you. "i'll be out here until you are, and when i freeze to death you're going to feel really bad." 

he might hear a scoff, but the only thing that follows is some silence. 

he says your name again, leaning against the door. 

and then he scrolls on your phone, sending you another text. 

he hears your phone ring on the other side of the door. 

and he can hear you sighing because he's just sent you a link to door. 

there's a moment that passes, where peter is just a bit proud, and then you open the door. 

"that's not even what that song means," you tell him, glowering, but you let him in. 

peter just smiles at you.

*

you're drawing him again. laughing as he teases you and listening to a playlist that he's made for the two of you--promising that it was great and that you'd enjoy it very much. 

this time, though, it's a bit different. 

you haven't asked to draw him since that day when he met you in the studio and finally looked comfortable enough to sit still. you haven't wanted to push that line, again, because you knew that it would be different. 

and that last picture of him, well. . . 

it's not the same as now. not the same as peter is when he's smiling at you. 

when he's singing along to a song that he's chosen and rolling his eyes when you say something, or make fun of him. 

it's not the same, you know, because last time, it was merely some strange sort of attraction to him. some want, or need, or crazy, fantasy thing. 

but now. god. 

now you know peter. now you know what he looks like when he's upset, how he acts when he's scared, or what he cares about, or who he truly is, behind the mask. 

now you're in love with him and trying to hide it. 

unsuccessfully, you're sure. 

"how much longer?" peter asks you, spinning around in your chair as you sit on your bed. 

it's also different because he's in your room, messing with your things. 

"i've already told you, peter, that you can't rush art." 

"you're probably not even drawing me." 

you grin down at the paper. 

peter continues to sing, continues to flip through an old notebook of drawings. 

"you know," you tell him, just glancing up to meet his brown eyes. "i don't like this song very much." 

peter raises a brow. "really?" 

you nod, pursing your lips. 

and so he sings even louder. 

"a zero, zero," peter says to you, laughing. "now he's a--" 

you throw a pillow at him, smirking. 

peter frowns. "that's going to ruin the drawing." 

"so is your singing," you tell him. "stay still, peter." 

"can i at least see?" he asks. 

"not till i'm done."

and then the song changes, and suddenly, you're grinning at him. 

just like that first day.

*

as soon as peter hears the opening chords, he's cursing himself for putting this song on the playlist. 

for letting himself be manipulated at the thought of your smile, and funny laugh as you danced around to this one the first time. for allowing himself to give in to it. 

because your smile is nothing but evil. 

and suddenly, you're not drawing, but standing up, biting your lip. 

"hey, good lookin'," you croon. moving your hips and your shoulders and smiling at him because you just know. "whatcha got cookin'?" 

peter throws his head back and groans. 

but you're singing along, dancing around him, and whispering the words in his ear. 

"there's soda pop and the dancing's free," you whisper, the goosebumps much more than a physical reaction. 

and, really, peter's trying not to smile as he watches you dance. as he watches your smile ebb and flow and listens to your voice, to your accent as-- 

"--so we can go steady," you gesture at him, smiling sweetly. "how's about saving all your time for me?" 

you are a monster, an absolute devil as you pull peter up, as he goes so willingly, and begins to dance with you. 

his hands around your waist and yours wrapped around his neck and that goddamn smile. 

and your voice, and every single thing that you mean to him. 

"c'mon," you say to him, giggling. "dance." 

and he does. he can't stop. 

then, when the song begins to fade, and you whisper a last "how's about cooking something up with me?" he pulls you down to your bed. 

he's almost breathless and laughing at you as you try to squirm away. 

he's absolutely gone as you still against him, suddenly realizing where you are. 

that he's pulled you so that you're laying right against him. and, peter is three inches away from you, and he can feel your breath against him. 

he can see your smile as it almost fades. 

as you watch his eyes, but falter, and look down. 

down and down and peter's eyes follow. 

he's staring at your lips, and he almost doesn't notice it as he leans in, as your breath hitches. 

and he kisses you. 

finally. finally. 

he pulls you as close as he can get you, hand wrapped around your neck, and at the base of your head, and digging into you, and your hands are on his face, they are still and alive as you grip onto him just as tight as he's got you. 

as you pull him, push and pull his lips, and breathe into his mouth. 

as he finally feels all of you, and thanks god that you're there. 

and when he pulls back, almost disassociating, eyes wide, he's staring at you. 

he's listening to a song in the background but he doesn't know the words. 

he can't think at all, can't breathe with you right there. 

"i'm sorry," he whispers, as he suddenly remembers who you are and what you mean to him. 

but you--you smile at him. you laugh like you can't believe it. 

you look into peter's eyes and you see all of him. 

you shake your head, one hand drifting to your lips like you can feel something new. 

you laugh again. 

"peter," you whisper to him, and he's staring back. "do it again." 

if you were a waiting room, i would never see the doctor. 

*

more of them.

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tags:@moonlarking-blog @v1ci0us @preciousbabypeter @alexxavicry @directioner5life @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah @localrockstargf  @thestudiouswanderer @take-my-hand-time-boy @thoughtsofagodlovingsunflower @nyomjoon  @moo-b1tch​ @raindropstearsandtea @rqmanoff​ @hollandweather​ @wetcoldnoodle @urlocalavenderhazestan​ @valvlry​ @imthatcoolmom​ @spideysimpossiblegirl​    invisibletrolleyson-jeremy  @sharkswaters  

[staytheword]

falling rain

falling rain — one shot [ back to general masterlist ]

this series (and this blog) are 18+ !! minors, please do not interact!!

• bang chan x female reader, other stray kids members are mentioned/featured, as well as other idols (itzy’s yeji, ateez’s san, nmixx's lily).

• non idol au, friends to lovers. angst, fluff, post breakup sadness and melancholia. drinking. explicit language. smut, oral sex (f receiving), protected sex.

• word count: 11k (11,199)

You fell out of love. It happens. All you need is time to piece yourself back together. But as you and your friends meet for a movie night, you don’t expect your ex to be there - yet he is, and it looks like he’s doing much better than you do. Luckily, your friends are there for you - especially Chan.

• permanent taglist: @ughbehavior​ ; @upallnight-s​ ; @changbinluvr​ ; @rosexjimin ; @nasiaisan

• story taglist: @tanyas97 ; @hyynee ; @moonlightcandy00 ; @drhsthl ; @flakeisthebest

• author’s note: Here it is! Thank you for your support on the preview, I am so glad you guys liked it and were excited for the full story. I hope you enjoy it! Take care <3

The rain is cold against your skin. 

You look up at the sky through your transparent umbrella. Swirls of pale gray cover the horizon, blurred by drops of rain sliding down the plastic material. It was darker earlier - the rain will stop soon. 

The bus stops in front of you, its brakes squeaking. You close your umbrella and get on, sitting where you usually do, at the back, next to the window. Placed between your legs, your umbrella is getting your jeans wet, but you don’t care. You close your eyes, letting the music in your ears soothe you. You’ve been taking the same bus route everyday for years, so you know exactly how much time you have before your stop. It’s not like you’re afraid of falling asleep, anyway. You never sleep in transportation, and it’s not like your mind has been able to rest easy recently. 

Your playlist transports you through melancholic melodies, pianos and violins lulling your senses. Your favorite songs do not let you forget the ache - they remind you of it, softly, tenderly. That’s what you want, anyway. 

You’re not interested in forgetting. You just want to heal.

When you open your eyes, your stop is a minute away. You press the button and get up, ignoring the inevitable looks of the other passengers on the bus. People are always staring. Always judging. Often, you care. These days, not so much. You can’t control them, what they do, what they think. They’ll see the shadows under your eyes, the pale skin, the chapped lips, and they’ll tell yourselves, she isn’t sleeping much. She looks terrible. She must be going through something. 

So what if I am, you want to tell them? Aren’t we all? 

When you step off the bus, it’s barely raining anymore and you decide not to open your umbrella. You let the rain slide through your hair, against your hands. You’re so cold but you’re used to it. You haven’t been able to warm up in a while. The rain feels good, actually. It makes you aware of your body, of your skin. As you walk towards your apartment building, you tilt your head backwards and let the rain fall down your cheeks like tears. 

Daylight has almost vanished when you unlock your apartment door, and you step inside with a sigh. You’ve grown to hate this place so much, but there is nowhere else to go. You should look for another apartment, but moving seems like an insurmountable amount of shit to go through and you just don’t have the energy. Maybe in a few weeks. Maybe in a few months. Maybe. 

You start by taking a shower, the boiling hot water contrasting with your icy cold skin. You wash your hair, apply lotion. Your movements are slow but you get there eventually. Wrapped in your bathrobe, you open your closet and stare at your clothes. It’s not that you hate them, you just have no idea what to choose. You’re not going someplace fancy, so you end up slipping on a simple pair of jeans and a warm sweater. 

You should probably eat something, but your stomach is in a tight knot. There will be food at Yeji’s place, anyway. 

As you check your phone and realize you still have some time before you have to leave, you let out a long sigh and sit on your bed. You’re not sure you really want to go, but your friends organized this movie night a while ago and they are excited for it. Yeji’s place is perfect for it - she has a projector, which allows the movies to play as wide as the wall. Everyone has been tasked to bring their favorite snacks and drinks. It’s going to be a chill night, and you’ll be happy to see your friends, but everything feels exhausting. 

You promised you were going to be there. So you will go. 

It’s not like they will bother you, anyway. They all know you pretty well, although some more than others, but they are all aware of what is going on with you. No secrets to have. Still you don’t want to be a bore, and you know you’ll do your best to smile throughout. It’s not that they want you to - but you’ll still do it. It’s just who you are. 

At least he won’t be there. Yeji said he wouldn’t - had plans already, apparently. It would be okay if your ex was there - actually, you’ve seen him a couple of times already since your breakup. But you need to be in the right mindset - and today you aren’t, so it’s good he’ll be absent. 

You let out a long sigh and stand up to dry your hair. 

You apply simple makeup, a bit of eyeliner, some mascara. You put on your favorite necklace. You decide to wear perfume. Little things to make you feel better, like you aren’t crippled inside, like you don’t have a decaying organ in your chest. It’s recent, that you’re able to do that. A week ago you would’ve showed up in sweatpants and messy hair. 

Little steps. 

As you grab a tote bag to fill it with the snacks you bought yesterday, you get a text from Yeji. 

Everything okay? 

Come anytime <3

She’s checking up on you and you’re grateful for it. Not a lot of people do, not even your closest friends. You don’t blame them - you haven’t been good company and sometimes it’s hard to find the right words. Some of them have been anxious that your breakup with San will mess up their friend group, and in fear of seeming like they’re taking sides, they just decided not to say anything. They take care of you differently - but sometimes you hate that they can’t talk about it with you. 

Yeji doesn’t do that. She’s been there for you at every step - and it’s not because she blames or dislikes San. It’s just different for you and her, because your friendship not only goes way back when your friend group got together, but also way beyond. 

Leaving in 5, you text back, and she sends a heart emoji. 

Once you’re ready, you slip on your jacket and stare at your reflection in the hallway mirror. You look your normal self, except for the obvious exhaustion on your face, and the slightly vacant look in your eyes. 

You can do this. 

You won’t let your stupid, broken heart define you or your life. 

When you get to Yeji’s, she pulls you into a tight hug. A few people are already there - Jeongin is already snacking on a huge bowl of popcorn, talking to Lily, who’s on her phone scrolling down Pinterest boards. Changbin and his girlfriend, the newest addition to your friend group, are bundled up under a blanket on the couch and wave at you. 

You follow Yeji to the kitchen, putting the cans of soda you brought in the fridge, adding your snacks to the pile on the counter. 

“You look really pretty,” Yeji tells you with a smile. “Is that the sweater we got together the other day?” 

“Yeah,” you nod. “I’m still not sure about the color, though.”

“No, it suits you. I promise.” 

You give her a sincere smile as she empties a bag of potato chips in a bowl. It’s quiet in the apartment, but you know it won’t last very long - except for Changbin, the loudest people have yet to arrive. 

“How was work today?” Yeji asks. 

“Fine,” you shrug. “Boring.” 

She gives you a long look. 

“You know you don’t have to stay there, right? You can find something else. With your skills it would be easy -”

“I know, Yeji,” you say in a low voice. “But not right now.” 

You play with your nail polish, chipping a small piece from your thumb. 

“Right now boring is good,” you nod, your voice a little more firm. “When I can focus more, I’ll look for something else. Promise.” 

She smiles, taking your hand to give it a squeeze. “I just don’t want you to waste away where you don’t belong. You’re worth so much more.” 

“I appreciate it.” 

You put your head on her shoulder for a second as Jeongin’s laugh resonates through the apartment. It’s a sweet and familiar sound, and you start to believe it was a good idea to come. 

Grabbing the filled bowls of potato chips, you and Yeji join the others in the living room. You sit down next to Jeongin, who quickly shows you the funny puppy video Lily has shown him, and you giggle at the screen. As Yeji starts to set up the projector, the door opens on a few more of your friends and you know it won’t be quiet anymore. 

Chan, Jisung and Minho are yelling about something, raising the volume of the conversation a million dozen decibels, and you shake your head at the sight of them. Chaotic and loud as they are, even in your state you are grateful for them, because whatever the circumstances they can always make you smile, or, at least, provide welcome distractions. 

They drop down in the remaining spots, either on the couch or the floor, Minho diving his hand down Jeongin’s popcorn bowl and Jisung arguing with Changbin about the type of beer he bought - of course, as usual, Jisung’s only answer to Changbin’s complaint is a simple traitor. 

“THIS AGAIN…” Changbin yells at the top of his lungs. 

You can’t help but smile. That game has been going on since Changbin moved out of his apartment with Jisung and Chan to move in with his girlfriend - Minho took his spot since, and there really isn’t any bad blood between them, but Jisung loves to remind Changbin how he abandoned them. 

“Hey, Y/N,” Minho says, sitting down between you and Jeongin. You took the spot at the end of the couch, a blanket covering your legs. “How’s it going?” 

“I’m okay,” you say with a smile. “What about you?” 

“Fantastic. Did you check out that link I sent you?” 

You start to talk a little - you and Minho work in a similar domain and it’s always nice to exchange ideas and anecdotes. You find yourself immersed in the conversation, the noise of all your friends chatting and laughing mixing into a background noise you can’t get enough of - it definitely helps the black hole inside your chest. You don’t feel so cold, you don’t feel so empty. You know it won’t last, and reality will catch up to you quickly, but for now you allow yourself to relax. 

“Y/N.” 

You turn towards Chan, who has stopped at your level. He’s smiling kindly at you, looking a little tired - but that’s nothing out of the ordinary. Like you, Chan barely sleeps. Neither of you can stop the ceaseless train of thought in your heads - while you stare at the ceiling, Chan works. 

“Hey, Channie.” 

“You want something to drink?” 

“Yeah, maybe a soda.” 

“Cool, coming right up.”

“Oiiiii, what about me?” Minho whines. 

He asks for a can of beer, followed by Lily who has finished her previous one, and soon everyone is yelling at Chan to bring them something to drink. He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath, and you chuckle. 

“Let me help you,” you say, standing up. “Y’all are lazy,” you add, squinting your eyes at your friends. 

Their protests all tangle together and you laugh, following Chan to the kitchen. 

Your friends. 

They are all precious to you, all in their own way. 

But Chan. Chan. 

The first time you met him you felt your heartbeat accelerate because he looked so damn charming. A kind smile, eyes like stars, and an energy that immediately soothed you. It did not take long for you to develop a crush on him. How could you not? He was kind, funny, talented, and smart. He truly cared for the people in his life and never broke a promise. Handsome, too, of course. The kind of guy that made you weak in the knees, that sent your thoughts reeling whenever he touched you. 

Your crush had always been one-sided though, which was fine. You had quickly worked to overcome your physical attraction to him and made it a priority to develop your friendship. Because Chan understood you. You found yourselves exchanging looks and agreeing on similar things often enough so that one day, you sat down next to him during a party to ask for advice and you ended up talking for hours, forgetting to get drunk like everyone else. 

You are not particularly close. You don’t know everything about each other. You mostly see each other with the rest of your friend group - rarely alone. You don’t text each other everyday - in fact, you barely do. But he’s a steady presence in your life, a friend you rely on, and you know it’s the same for him. 

Tonight, you’re especially grateful for him. 

Chan gives you a smile as he opens the fridge. 

“I like your sweater,” he says, handing you a pack of sodas. 

You put it on the kitchen island, smiling. 

“Thank you. I like your earrings. Are they new?” 

You’re used to Chan wearing his silver hoops, but today he’s sporting a simple black dot on one ear, a small lightning bolt on the other. 

“Yeah, I felt like a change,” he nods. “They say it’s good for us, right?” 

“I guess,” you answer simply. “It suits you.”

“Thanks.” 

You exchange smiles, gathering all the desired drinks slowly. You glance at him sometimes, at the angle of his nose, at the dark curls that brush his ears. Your crush on Chan eventually faded away, although never entirely. You have just buried it so deep inside you sometimes you forget it is there - you haven’t thought about it for a long time.

Then again, your heart has been entirely occupied by San. 

Heart.

Body.

Soul.

All of which lay in pieces, now. 

Chan must see the shadows in your eyes, because he frowns a little, looking intently at you. 

“Is something wrong?”

You shake your head, trying to shake the bad thoughts away at the same time.

“No, no, don’t worry.” 

Chan gives you a smile and a short nod, although he’s still frowning. He can feel you don’t want to linger on it - you hope he knows it’s not that you don’t trust him. Besides Yeji, Chan is perhaps the friend you trust the most. 

You remember every single hug he’s given you. 

Always so warm. 

Always at the right time. 

He probably doesn’t know some of them gave you the strength to hold on. The most recent one, about two weeks ago. 

“Can I have another one, please?” 

The barman gives you a nod and turns to prepare you another beer.

Besides you, Yeji gives you a long look. “Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” 

“Just one more,” you tell her, lifting an index. 

She smiles, throwing an arm around your neck. She keeps a close eye on you - that’s why you feel comfortable to indulge in another drink. You need it, after all. Since your breakup with San, you’ve barely touched alcohol, choosing instead to drown in snacks and utter isolation. 

So for your friend, it’s a step forward that you’ve agreed to come tonight. 

It’s just you, Yeji, Chan and Jisung. A quiet night at the local pub. 

A few beers, a board game.

When you have a new full pint, you and Yeji head back to the table and sit down. All of you decide to play another game, and Jisung starts shuffling the cards, telling you some dumb joke. You know he’s doing that to make you feel better, and it works. You find yourself smiling so much your cheeks hurt a little. 

You place your head on his shoulder, affectionately, and cross Chan’s gaze. He’s smiling, too, fondly. 

Your friends are talking and your heart hurts so fucking much.

You miss San. You’ve fallen out of love a long time ago, you now realize, but it’s still painful. You have to start over. You have to find yourself again. It’ll be long work - but you’ll do it. And as you look at your friends, you think to yourself they will make it easier. You’ve been drinking a little, and the emotion swells in your chest. 

“Y/N, don’t cry!” Yeji cries out, noticing the tears on your cheeks.

You have not even realized you are crying. You touch your skin in surprise, letting out a giggle.

“Awwww, no, honey,” Jisung says, drawing you in his arms. 

He rocks you like a child and you laugh as more tears drip down your eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” you say. “I love you guys so much.” 

“Nooo, you’re gonna make me cry too,” Yeji cries out, taking your hand.

“I know it’s not… Not easy for you, because San is your friend, and…” You sniffle. “I don’t want this to be difficult for you.”

“Don’t say that, Y/N,” Jisung whispers. “We’re your friends, too.” 

“We’re here for you,” Chan nods. 

Crying and laughing at the same time, your friends decide to keep playing to get your mind off of things. You’re grateful.

Yeji wins, of course. She always does. Once all your beers are finished, you agree to go. Chan will drive Yeji home - he’s only had one pint. Jisung lives close to you, so you decide to walk together. 

You say goodnight to Yeji. She places a kiss on your cheek, squeezes your hand. Chan draws you into a hug. 

It’s so loving. So steady. 

It takes the breath out of your lungs. 

“I love you, Y/N,” he says in your ear. “I’m here if you need me.” 

You’re too dumbstruck to reply. But you know you’ll remember those words for a long time.

You do. 

You still remember the words - you can still hear them. 

He’s here.

He loves you.

Like a friend, of course. 

But that is more than enough.

“Y/N?” 

Chan’s voice brings you back to the present. You shake your head and chuckle.

“Sorry. I was just lost in thought.” 

He nods, biting his lip nervously. “By the way, I wanted to ask. There’s this concert next -” 

That’s when you hear the door open - followed by a voice.

His voice.

Your blood freezes in your veins, and you stare dumbly at Chan, unable to move. 

You feel like bursting out in tears. No, no, no. 

Not him, not tonight. 

You feel Chan’s eyes on you. Yet, you don’t really see him. He delicately puts a hand on your wrist. 

“Y/N…” 

You try to gather your thoughts. You should’ve prepared, just in case. You feel so stupid. Of course it was all going too well. 

You’re startled when Yeji bursts in the kitchen, puts her hands on your shoulders and seeks your eyes. 

“Y/N, I’m so sorry, honey -” 

“What the hell?” you hear Chan mutter next to you. “I thought he wasn’t supposed to come.” 

“He wasn’t,” Yeji hisses. “I swear, he told me he couldn’t.” 

“Fuck’s sake, this dude…” 

You close your eyes and take a deep breath. 

Slowly, you look up at your friends, gathering a smile. 

“It’s okay,” you say, your voice clear. You take Yeji’s hands in yours, nod at her. “I’m fine.” 

“Y/N…” 

“I’m fine,” you repeat. “I’ll be fine.” 

You look at Chan next, and you feel like your heart will burst out of your chest. There’s something in his eyes you can’t identify, a spark that is also a shadow. He’s frowning, his body slightly bent towards you, like he’s about to pull you into a hug. You clear your throat and nod, praying to all you can not to let your voice tremble. 

“It’s all right,” you say. “He’s our friend. He should be here.” 

And to some degree, you mean it. 

Yeji gives you a tight hug, and you can hear Chan let out a long sigh from behind you. You can’t linger on it - you have to focus on yourself. 

Stay calm. Breathe. 

You can do this. 

The breakup was hard for the both of you, you remind yourself. You loved each other, you really did, that much you’re sure of. San was never that good of a liar. You have a much more vulnerable nature than him, which was always a source of conflict between you, but you know your breakup affected him. You remember the tears in his eyes. The vein in his neck, pulsing, as he held them back. You remember the way his hand clenched yours. The way his words came out broken from between his teeth. 

It’s over, isn’t it? 

You fell out of love. 

It happens. 

You take a deep breath. You still want San to be your friend. You’ve agreed that you would try, and you intend to follow through on your words. 

You take a step to follow Yeji back to the living room, but Chan puts a delicate hand on your shoulder. You turn around, plunge your eyes in his. You’ve always thought of them as a haven, a night sky full of stars, both deep and bright.

He stares at you with a clenched jaw and a furrowed brow. He smells as he always has, a smell you’ve wanted on your pillow for so long - and it still makes you slightly dizzy although you know there’s no chance with him. 

“If at any moment you want to go home, tell me, yeah?” he whispers to you. “I’ll drive you.” 

You’re a little entranced by the soft lines on his full lips and the way his low voice scrapes - but you manage a nod, after what feels like a long second. 

“Thank you.” 

He nods, gives your shoulder a squeeze and lets you go. The warmth of his hand lingers there, and it gives you courage to move forward. 

San has already taken a seat next to Jisung and glances at you when you walk into the room. Your friends are kind enough to keep the conversation going, so the room doesn’t fall silent, but your heart sinks at the bottom of your chest. 

Because San doesn’t look tired. He doesn’t look sad. 

In fact, he beams. 

Eyes sparkling. 

New clothes, new watch. 

A smile so wide it slices right through your heart. 

Fuck, he looks so happy. 

You have to bite your tongue so you burst out crying. You stagger a little bit, but Chan is right behind you and it prevents you from falling back. His warmth, the voices of your friends, everything makes it better. 

“Hey,” you manage to say, although you’re not sure how. “You look good.” 

“Thanks, you too,” he tells you, but his voice is distant. His eyes are too, like he doesn’t even see you anymore. Not like he did before. 

It’s abundantly clear - your ex has moved on. 

It’s not that you still have feelings for him - you just need time to grieve what you had. San was a huge part of your life for a long time, and suddenly he isn’t there anymore. That absence, that void, that’s what is difficult to deal with. Being so goddamn alone all the time. No one to make you feel loved. No one to love, either. 

You’re still putting yourself back together. 

You’re still healing. 

Not him. He’s done it. 

You should be happy for him, and in a way, you are. You’re not mad he’s moved on. But it happened so quickly. It hasn’t even been two months. You were together for more than a year. Maybe you’re jealous, maybe you’re bitter. But mostly it hurts. 

How long is it going to take you? Why are you so goddamn sensitive? 

You breathe out and help Chan bring everyone their drinks. San’s laughter is a haunting melody and you can’t wait for the movie to start so you can think about something else. You take your previous seat, and Jeongin rubs your back affectionately, offering you the bowl of popcorn. 

Chan sits at the opposite side of the room. Pathetically, you wish he was still next to you. Instead you focus on the images that start playing, projected on the white wall in front of you. It’s a movie you’ve already seen, but that’s ok. It’s not like you can really focus, anyway. 

Because all you can see is San. Funny, clever, happy. You know him, you’d know if he was pretending, but he isn’t. He’s liberated. It’s the only word that comes to mind. You wonder for how long you’ve been bringing him down. If he realized it and hated you for it. If he couldn’t wait to get rid of you. If he was just looking for an excuse and -

You close your eyes and put a stop to the intruding thoughts.

No. It wasn’t like that. 

Was it? 

You don’t know anymore.

You barely follow the movie because your thoughts keep spiraling. Around you, your friends are chatting, making jokes, and commenting on the movie. Jisung’s laugh is so loud it takes over sometimes and you take refuge in it. But your heart feels frozen in place, in the middle of two beats, unable to go forward. You stare into nothing. You don’t even touch your soda. The popcorn, either - so you hand it back to Jeongin. His presence feels good, too. 

You hate yourself for being unable to live in the moment. For letting your mind wander like it is, dizzy and unkind. 

In the movie, people say what they think. 

In the movie, loving doesn’t seem so hard. 

In the movie, it doesn’t rain. 

It’s a blessing and a curse that everyone is watching the movie, and that you’re sitting in the corner, in the dark. Your eyes are filled with tears and suddenly one escapes and slides down your cheek. You fidget in your seat, faking a yawn to wipe it away. You pull the blanket over your trembling body. You laugh when the others do, although it’s heartless. Nobody notices - or so you think - and it’s a good thing. 

You try to focus on the movie. It’s entertaining, it’s funny, and for a minute, maybe, you succeed in feeling better. Then you see, from the corner of your eye, San pulling out his phone. He stares at the screen, and in the dark, its blue light illuminates his face. He smiles at it and types a few words. You know that smile. Fuck, you were that smile, once. 

You clench your jaw, hard, and wanting to look away you accidentally fall into Chan’s eyes. He’s looking at you, and although you can’t see his face very well in the darkness, you notice the worry in his eyes. He doesn’t smile, he doesn’t say anything - but you hear his silent question. You need to go?

You shake your head slowly, forcing a smile. I’m fine. I’m fine. 

He nods. He doesn’t believe you. 

You stand up on shaky legs and head to the bathroom. Once you close the door, you don’t even open the light. You wouldn’t be able to stand the sight of your own reflection. You just breathe out, breathe in, and then breathe out again. The tears fall down your cheeks, warm. They taste bitter on your lips. 

Why can’t you be like him? Why can’t you move on, be happy? 

You take a few minutes to collect yourself. It’s fine - you don’t mind seeing San. It’s good, if, unlike you, he’s able to rebuild himself. It’s all you wish for him, and you know it’s all he wishes for you, too. He’d probably be honestly sad to know you aren’t doing well. You can never tell him, of course. You’ll pretend as well as you can - you can’t allow yourself to be vulnerable with him for now. You’ll keep it for yourself, shamefully, selfishly. 

It will be fine. 

You’ll get over it. He did, so why not you?

Once you feel ready, you head out the bathroom, and Chan is there, leaning against the wall. 

“Oh, shit, sorry,” you chuckle. “I didn’t realize someone was waiting. Did you -” 

You stop as Chan puts his hands on your shoulders and pulls you to him. You fall into his arms, and you’re a little shocked so you don’t move at first. Still, Chan holds you there. You stammer. 

“C-Chan, I’m okay, you don’t have to -” 

“Y/N,” he says, and there’s something about the way he whispers your name that makes your heart ache. “I saw you crying. Please. You don’t have to hide.” 

Gently, you let your head fall against his chest. He hugs you a little tighter. 

“We’re friends, aren’t we?” he whispers. “You don’t have to hide.” 

You nod. He said it in such a way, you don’t know what it is. 

You are friends. 

You’ve been for a long time. 

Despite your crush on him, despite the awkward period where he was aware of it but didn’t say anything, despite all of that, you are friends. 

But Chan has always been more than that for you.

Chan is a pillar, Chan is a mess. 

Chan is both the lighthouse and the storm. 

You like the feel of his arms around you. The way his chest moves as he breathes. The texture of his t-shirt. 

Oh, God. Not again. 

You can’t let your crush come back running. You’re just sad. You’re just lonely. It wouldn’t be fair to Chan, would it? He’s your friend. He’s not a pretty face you can choose to lust over whenever you’re lonely. 

Don’t do that to yourself, Y/N. 

Don’t do that to him.

Chan is your friend and he is only trying to be here for you. 

“Do you want to go home?” he whispers in your hair. 

You take a deep breath and nod. Chan takes a step back, smiling kindly at you. You do the same, although it’s a little faint. He bends his knees slightly to be at your height, gently rubs your cheeks to remove the tears and replace your hair. 

“Let’s go, then, love.” 

You don’t have time to gawk at him for using a nickname he’s never said before, because he turns and waves at you to follow him. 

He tells your friends you’re feeling a little sick and he’ll drive you home. You say there’s the flu going around at the office, and you hate lying to your friends, because you know some of you will believe you and some won’t. Right now you don’t really care - even if they all knew it was a lie, they wouldn’t judge you. You make sure to not avoid San’s eyes and smile at him. You don’t want him to start asking questions. 

You get your things. Yeji gives you a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek, making you promise you’ll text tomorrow. You nod, squeezing her hand and glancing at your friends. There will come a day when you’ll be yourself again. 

You just need time.

Time and a lot of courage.

When you step outside, with Chan right behind you, you realize it’s raining again. You look up at the sky, now a profound black painted by hints of grey clouds. You run to his car, the rain heavy and cold.  

The car is clean and smells nice. Chan pulls back his hoodie, starts the engine and drives away as you look back at the apartment building. You wish you were stronger. 

“I know what you’re thinking,” Chan says, one hand on the wheel, the other tapping on his thigh to the rhythm of the song on the radio. 

“Do you?” you tell him with a smile. 

“I do,” he nods, matching your smile. “You’re telling yourself you should be stronger.” 

You gawk at him, feeling both embarrassed and scandalized. He shrugs. 

“Didn’t I ever tell you I can read you like an open book?” 

“Tsk,” you retort. “Wasn’t that when we played Mafia?” 

“Whatever applies to Mafia applies to real life.” 

“Not sure that’s true.” 

“This is.” 

You glare at him and he does the same, playfully. You feel much more relaxed now that you’re here. It was always easy to talk to Chan - never does that change, whatever the circumstances. You are much alike in that you tend to put others before yourselves, often at the sacrifice of your own feelings. For some reason, though, that didn’t work between you. The walls immediately fall apart.

“So I’m an open book, huh?” you say, staring at your hands. 

“To me, yes. When I have my eyes on you.” 

“And you had your eyes on me tonight?” you ask without thinking. 

“Of course,” he answers, stopping the car at a red light. “I stayed sober, kept a close eye on you. Just in case.” 

You wince. “Just in case I started crying hysterically or made a scene?” 

He shakes his head, looking at you. The red light reflects on his face, enveloping the car in its hue. The rain thumps on the car in soft sounds. Chan’s dark hair is messy on his head, charmingly curled at the tips. 

“More like in case he did something,” he eventually says. 

“Why would he?” you ask with a frown, assuming he’s talking about San.

“Well…” Chan sighs. “He can be a dick sometimes.” 

You’re surprised by his words - you never would’ve thought that Chan disliked San. On all accounts, they are good friends. Chan chuckles nervously at your look, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Sorry. I know you were a thing for a long time, but… It’s just what I think.” 

“Did he do something?” 

Chan shrugs. “It’s just a feeling. Never really did anything. Except breaking up with you, of course.” 

You scoff. “He’s an asshole for breaking up with me?” 

“Yeah,” Chan stammers. “Just - like - who would ever let a girl like you go?” 

His words don’t make a lot of sense to you. They come to you muffled, as if you are plunged in a dream or in a drunken state. You honestly can’t believe your ears. 

“What are you -” 

He quickly waves his hand, looks away from you to the road ahead - and fortunately for him, the light turns green, so he has a good excuse to change the subject. 

“Don’t mind me. I’m just rambling.” 

You really don’t want to let this go. Your heart is racing, and you honestly wouldn’t know San’s name if someone was to yell it in your ear right now. All you can see is Chan, his tightened jaw, gripping the wheel of his car, driving you home. His words echo in your head, and you’re trying to put everything together. 

Did you miss something? Clearly, Chan has something on his mind, an itch he can’t scratch. Have you been so intoxicated by your grief and sadness that you blacked out? You haven’t been a good friend, that much you know. You just wanted to feel better, first. You were of use to no one feeling this sad and broken. But Chan’s agitation has clearly been there for a while. How long have you been this blind? 

You open your mouth, trying to find the right words. Chan, what is going on?

Chan, are you angry at me?

Chan, please, tell me what’s on your mind. 

You sigh in frustration. You’re silent for a while, your thoughts spiraling, and just when you’re just about ready to ask, your phone rings. You glance at the screen instinctively, and San’s name is like a slap on the face. 

Are you okay? he asks in a text. Tell me when you get home. 

Hints of your boyfriend. Remnants of the past. The text feels like a ghost is speaking to you. It makes you angry. It makes you ache. 

You might not love San anymore, but you miss him. 

“Are you okay?” Chan asks.

“Yeah,” you nod. 

You’re about to say you’re fine, which has become an automatic response, but you remember what Chan said. I can read you like an open book. So instead, you take a deep breath. 

“It’s San,” you explain. “He’s asking me if I’m okay and to text him when I’m home.” 

Chan scoffs, and there is nothing amiable in the sound. “The guts on this guy,” he mutters. “I’m literally driving you and he knows that.” 

You frown, sensing the anger in his voice. 

“Seriously, Chan, did something happen between your two?” 

Chan shakes his head. He doesn’t want to look at you. 

“Chan,” you insist. “Tell me, please.” 

He lets out a sigh, gripping the wheel tighter. 

“We might’ve had… an altercation.”

“An altercation?” you repeat. “Like a fight?!” 

“Not a fight,” Chan sighs. “Not a physical one, anyway.”

“What the fuck happened?” 

The words escape your mouth. An uneasy feeling washes over you. Nobody has told you about this. Nobody has said a word. 

“When did this happen?” you ask when Chan doesn’t answer.

“Like… a week ago, I think.” 

“Why didn’t no one -” 

You interrupt yourself and close your eyes. Looking out the car window, you realize you’re already parked in front of your apartment building. How did it go so fast?

For how much longer are you going to keep losing track of time? 

“Chan,” you say, your voice shaking. “Please tell me what’s going on.” 

He looks at you with timid eyes. They shimmer in the darkness but you can’t focus on them. You are trembling and you can’t hold on to a single clear thought. Your mind is a blurry mess.

Chan looks out through the window before he takes a deep breath. 

“I didn’t want to do this tonight. You need to rest, you -” 

“If you don’t tell me now, I’ll never be able to sleep, so it will be worse.” 

You feel your hands shaking, so you clench your fists. Outside, the rain accelerates, pounds loudly on the car. The sound is almost unbearable but you don’t care. 

“If you’re trying to protect me, I’m grateful,” you add, when you see he’s still hesitating. “But I can take it. I’d rather know.” 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispers, his voice quivering. 

“We’re friends, right?” you tell him. “That’s what you said. Be my friend, Chan.” 

He sighs and rubs his eyes. You’re scared, and yet a part of you feels perfectly calm. You hate the fact that something was hidden from you, but you’re so ready to withstand whatever storm is heading your way.

You’d rather stand in chaos than into nothingness. 

At least the chaos makes a little sense. 

“Before I say anything…” Chan sighs. “I don’t want you to take any of this on you, yeah? I know you’ll feel bad, but please, just remember -” 

“For fuck’s sake, Chan,” you say with a nervous laugh. “Get to the point.”

“He has a girlfriend.” 

You stare back at him. 

“What?” 

“San. He has a girlfriend. I thought it was too soon, that it was disrespectful of you, so I told him and it got heated, but… Yeah. Shit. I’m sorry, Y/N.” 

It’s like the rain suddenly got quiet. 

A girlfriend. 

You should’ve known. You saw it, after all. The phone, the text, the smile. The happiness in his eyes. The trendy clothes, the new watch. All the hints were there. 

He has moved on. 

More than you expected. 

Everything happens quickly. Your body acts before your brain registers it, and in the blink of an eye you’re outside in the pouring rain. You slam the passenger door behind you, you forget your bag, you don’t even think about it. You just walk forward.

It’s bitter cold. 

In seconds, you’re drenched. 

Your knees feel weak and you’re sure you are going to fall.

A sob escapes your throat. 

It shouldn’t hurt that much. 

You hate your heart. 

You hate how vulnerable it is. 

You want to move on, too. 

“Y/N!” 

You turn around, halfway to the door of your apartment, to find Chan running towards you. You raise your hand slowly. It’s shaking like a leaf.

“It’s fine, Chan. I’m f-” 

“Stop saying that!” 

You’re a bit surprised at the sudden anguish in his voice. He stops inches away from you, getting soaked by the heavy rain. It slides down his cheeks like tears, strands of dark hair sticking to his forehead. He looks at you fiercely, his eyes blazing with light. 

“I’m sorry, I just - I see you’re hurting and it’s killing me.” 

You don’t know what to tell him. You wish he would go away. You wish he would hug you. You wish the pain would just stop.  

“Y/N -”

“I don’t care!” you scream, the sound getting lost in the rain. 

Chan frowns. 

“I don’t care if he has a girlfriend,” you cry out. “I just…” You shrug, your eyes lost in Chan’s. “I just want to heal, too. I want to move on, too. I’m sick of being sad. I’m sick of hurting.” 

There is such despair in Chan’s face you can hardly bear it. You wish you could tell him not to take the weight of your pain on his shoulders, but you know him better than that. He can’t help it. That’s why he’s here with you.

“You just have to give me time,” you say, your voice falling apart. “I’ll be fine eventually.” 

He lets out a sigh, slides a hand through his drenched hair. A raindrop slides down his face, gets caught on his lips. 

“Please, let’s go inside,” he pleads. “Let me be here for you.” 

You hesitate, but the cold rain keeps you on your toes. You want to be home, in your own space, but you also don’t want to be alone. So you nod, and Chan lets out a sigh, thanking you in a whisper. 

When you step inside your apartment you’re a little shy to turn on the lights because it’s messy, but you can’t really be bothered about that right now. Chan waits on the other side of the door, a hesitant look on his face. 

“Come in,” you tell him. 

He nods, closing the door behind him. Your place is modest, just big enough for one person, situated in the semi-basement of the building. It does not get much light, but it feels cozy and it is cheap. 

The first thing you do is get a towel for Chan so he can dry his hair and his clothes. He hangs his hoodie on a hook near the door; luckily the t-shirt underneath is only damp. His dark blue jeans took the worst of the rain. You suggest giving him some dry clothes, but he insists he’ll be fine. 

You tell him to get comfortable and go to change in your room. Your limbs feel weak as you slip on a pair of sweatpants and a crewneck. You cannot stop thinking about Chan's words. 

San has a girlfriend. 

He has opened his heart to love again. 

The rain keeps falling. 

It’s time you heal. 

When you come back to the living room, Chan is anxiously staring at his phone. He puts it away when he sees you, smiling a little timidly. 

“Feel better?” 

“Yeah,” you nod. “Want a drink?”

“Sounds good.” 

You give him a gentle smile and you both head to the kitchen, where you fill two glasses of soju. He takes one, clinking it against yours. You drink it in one go. 

“Now that feels better,” you sigh. 

Chan smiles at you fondly, and you nudge his arm. 

“Chan. It’s all right. It had to happen.” 

“So quickly, though?” he winces. 

“We all heal at different paces,” you say softly. “Or maybe it’s his way of healing. Either way I’m happy for him.” 

Chan leans one elbow on the kitchen counter, giving you a long look. You hold his gaze, confused at the sudden calmness you feel.

“You said you can read me like an open book,” you remind him, pouring yourself another drink. “Am I lying?” 

He smiles briefly. “No.” 

“Cheers.” 

He takes another sip, and you imitate him. 

“How about we sit down?” you propose. 

Once in the living room, you sink into the couch. Chan sits at a comfortable distance, twirling his glass between his fingers. It’s strange to see him at your place - because of the size of your apartment, you rarely have friends over. You remember him driving you home a couple of times, but he must have been inside only once or twice in the three years you’ve lived here.

You talk a little, about everything and nothing. You drink some more, perhaps a little too much, but the soju warms your body. Chan relaxes, too. The bottle is quickly empty. 

You both fall silent, and you stare at the bottom of your empty glass. The tears come back too easily. 

“Chan?” 

“Yeah, love?”

You peck your lips. Hearing him say that feels too good. It’s so new, but you already don’t want him to ever stop. 

“Is she pretty?” you utter.

“Y/N…” 

“She must be. Pretty and smart.” 

“Don’t say that.” 

“Do you know her?” 

You look up, and Chan shakes his head. His hair is untidy, his cheeks a little red, his full lips as inviting as ever. 

“I don’t. Ji told me they met at a party.” 

You let out a shaky sigh. “So everyone knows?” 

You hate the way your voice shudders, but you can’t help it. Chan shuffles closer to you, gently taking your hand in his. It’s warm and familiar. 

“No,” he answers in a soft voice. “Just a few. We wanted to wait for the right moment - well, actually, I thought San should be the one to tell you.” 

You laugh, wiping your tears. “No offense, but that would’ve been worse.” 

Chan snorts amusingly. “Oh. Good thing it didn’t happen, then. I thought it’d be a good idea.”

“It’s a terrible idea.” 

You both end up giggling, and Chan doesn’t let go of your hand. You sniffle. You don’t let go either.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” you say. But why are you so invested in this?”

“In your breakup?” 

“Yeah.” 

“I’m not invested in your breakup,” he shrugs. “I’m invested in you, you’re my friend.” 

“But it’s - you don’t have to, you can just be like the others, not take a side, you don’t have to fight anyone.” 

“Why wouldn’t I speak out? It bothers me, you know me, I don’t shut up when it comes to people I care about.” 

“But San is your friend, too.” 

“But you’re -” 

You frown. “I’m what?” 

“You’re Y/N.” 

The tenderness in his voice takes you by surprise. It seeps through his lips, echoes in his eyes. You feel your heart twist and turn - and just like that, his fingers slip away from yours.

“Sorry, I…” He closes his eyes, shakes his head. “Hell, I’m doing it all wrong tonight. And I should really stop drinking. How the fuck am I supposed to drive back home?” 

“Chan, wait,” you say, ignoring him. “What are you trying to say?” 

He sighs heavily. His face falls in his hand, and he breathes there for a second before he looks back up at you. He looks so tired.  

“I know you had a crush on me,” he breathes. 

You smile nervously. “Why are you bringing this up?” 

“Because I have a crush on you, too,” he says. 

You blink, and it’s like the world tilts. You haven’t been drinking that much, it can’t be the soju. Still, you feel dizzy and warm. Chan is looking at you with fondness and anguish. 

He didn’t say had.

He said have.

His words are right there, still on the tip of his tongue. 

In his eyes. 

So damn bright. 

No - he’s here because he’s your friend. That’s it.

Isn’t it? 

“I don’t understand,” you breathe out.

“I never acted on it because San had wanted to ask you out for a while,” Chan explains with a shrug. “And you know me. I never put myself before others. And although I sorta knew you had a crush on me, I convinced myself San was better for you.” 

You look down at your hands, feeling completely overwhelmed. 

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” you whisper. 

“Because you were so happy with him,” Chan says, his voice shaking. “You found each other and it was good, and who was I to say anything? At one point it didn’t even matter anymore, and I buried it deep inside of me, told myself I was over you. You were over me, after all. It was just a crush, anyway. I was so sure you’d be in this with San for the long run.” 

So did I, you want to say. Your throat feels so dry, however, you can’t say anything. You can just stare at Chan. He smiles at you almost carefully. 

“When I heard about your breakup… Everything came rushing back. The other night, after we got drinks, and I saw you crying… I was just so worried about you. So gutted to see you hurt, it was almost unbearable. And then he said he found someone else and I couldn’t understand, and we argued. It was heated, but it’s fine now. We’re good.” 

You close your eyes because the world can’t stop spinning. You were so cold earlier, but now you’re almost sweating. You’re too warm. The world is ablaze. 

Chan is your fire.

“I’m not saying I’m in love with you. I can’t say I am. But if I let myself go…” He stumbles on his words. “I just might.” 

Time has stopped. You can barely breathe.

You feel the sting of shame.

The delightful warmth of Chan’s confession.

You’ve been so blind.   

“You just mean so much to me,” he says, his voice both low and soft. “I just want you to be happy. I just want you to be loved as you should be loved.” 

When you open your eyes, it feels like he’s sitting closer to you although he hasn’t moved. He’s not touching you, but his smell overwhelms your senses. You can’t look away, and he watches you back.

“How I wish I could,” he breathes, his eyes drilling into yours. “Fall into you. Show you how you could be loved. ” 

You drink his words like they’re the essence of life. You feel, in each one, a wish, a hope, a possibility. Ropes that were drawn and never knotted together. Lifelines, waiting to be grasped. 

“I never was,” you breathe. 

He frowns. “What?”

“Over you,” you explain. “I never was over you. I’m not.” 

He closes his eyes. 

“Fuck, Y/N, don’t tell me that.”

“It’s true,” you say, voice trembling. “I loved San, of course I did. But you were always in my heart and you will never not be.” 

Chan’s eyes drip down your eyes to your lips. You feel an ache inside your chest. It’s like it’s starting to rain indoors. What an odd feeling. 

“You don’t love him anymore?” he asks carefully, weighing every word.

“No.” 

Your voice comes in a whisper, but it’s full of certainty. 

“But Chan, I…” You swallow. “I can’t - I can’t listen to what my heart says about you, it’s not fair, you’re not… You’re not a stand-in, you’re not - you’re more important than that, and…” 

“Can I kiss you?” 

The question catches you off guard. 

“Just once,” Chan smiles. “I want to taste your lips. Just once.” 

What could you say to that? How many times did you dream about Chan’s lips on yours, wondering what they felt like? Were his kisses kind, delicate, hungry? You’d see him drink whiskey and wonder if the taste would linger on them. You’d see him kiss another girl and picture yourself in her place. 

And now he was offering you a kiss.

Hell, he wanted to kiss you. 

So you find yourself nodding, and Chan takes a long look at you, as if he’s waiting for you to change your mind. You remain immobile, lips parted, awaiting his. Slowly, he plucks them, grazing them against his - and they sink into yours, soft, like a cloud, deep, like the ocean. 

You collapse in his arms, wrapping yours around his neck. He slides his fingers through your hair, his other hand embracing your waist to pull you closer. You can’t hold back a sigh from escaping your lips, and Chan responds by kissing you deeper, the movements of his lips getting almost feverish. 

“Chan,” you moan when you gasp for breath.

“Fuck, I can’t stop,” he growls, placing small kisses on your lips.

His fingers dig in your skin, and you desperately want to disappear against him, so you move your leg so you can straddle him. Chan wraps himself around you, and you feel the dampness of his clothes but you don’t care. You take his face in your hands, plunging back into a needy kiss. Chan’s hands wander on your back, on your hips, on the back of your neck. You can only lean into him. His tongue teases your lips and you open your mouth to let it in. It plays with yours, and you can feel walls tighten. 

By now you are fully making out, your hips grinding against his. You can feel him getting hard, and it sends your mind reeling. 

“God, you’re so perfect,” he moans around your lips.

“I’ve thought about this so often, Chan,” you admit.

“Same,” he grins. “I… Fuck, I can’t tell you this.” 

“Tell me,” you insist, trailing kisses alongside his jaw, on the delicate skin of his neck. It makes him shudder, and can almost feel his cock pulsating under you. 

“I thought about your lips,” he breathes out. “Your body. How you would sound moaning against me…” 

“Fuck, Channie…” 

You clench at his words, pressing your core on his erection. He grunts, his fingers slowly making their way under your shirt. You tug at his, and suddenly, like a flash of lightning, you realize what you are doing. Your heart skips a beat, and your mouth dries. Everything rushes back. You stop, and he does the same, leaning back. 

He looks more attractive than ever with his hair tousled by your fingers, his full lips red and wet from your kisses. 

“I’m sorry, I just -” 

“Is this going too fast?” he asks you gently. 

You hesitate. “It’s not that. I just - I don’t want to give the wrong impression.” 

Chan frowns. “What do you mean?”

“Like you’re just a rebound or something,” you shrug.

Chan smiles - that cheeky grin of his, his eyes sparkling at the same time. It toys with your heartstrings. How could anyone not adore this man? 

“I don’t care,” he answers. “I’ll be your rebound.” 

“Chan, I’m serious,” you sigh.

“So am I,” he says, twirling a strand of your hair around his index. “If it’s something you want, then I’m here. I want to. And it doesn’t have to mean anything tomorrow, or ever. We’ll always be friends.” 

You breathe out, briefly closing your eyes. All you want is to keep kissing him, to forget the world in his arms. To be desired, to be loved. 

It’s all you want.

But your heart still aches.

So much has happened tonight - you feel so heavy. 

You sigh again. “I just… Fuck, I’m sorry.” 

Chan cups your cheek. 

“It’s okay, love,” he says, placing a kiss on your forehead. “It’s all so fresh. I can leave if you -” 

“No,” you quickly interrupt him, pushing a finger against his plush lips. “Please. Stay with me.” 

Chan nods, his eyes not leaving yours. You should move. You should get going - get a glass of water, sleep it all off. But you can’t move, lost in Chan’s gaze, your body a bundle of nerves. You lean forward, settling your forehead against his. 

“It’s killing me,” you chuckle nervously. 

Chan giggles, and the sound is delightful. “We have time, love. I won’t let you go, now. I got you.” 

He places a soft kiss on your lips.

“If you’ll have me.” 

As an answer, you give him another kiss. You slide your fingers through his humid hair, inhaling his scent. 

“Will you sleep here tonight?” 

“I’m here, baby.” 

The word makes something melt inside of you. You shiver, and instinctively, he sprawls his warm hands on your back. 

You’re overwhelmed by the tenderness and the hurt. 

You feel so loved. 

So abandoned.

So alone.

So supported.  

So seen. 

Your lips find him again like a magnet. You kiss him deeper than before. You’re losing your mind. 

“Y/N,” he breathes in your mouth.

The words escape your lips. “Fuck it, I want you.” 

He groans, his fingers diving in your skin. His cock twitches under you, making you lose all sense. 

“I want this, Chan,” you sigh, biting his lip. “But I don’t - I don’t want you to think I’m using you, all right? You’re my friend, I care about you, I -” 

He laughs. “You can use me all you want.” 

He starts kissing you again, feverishly, as if it hasn’t just been a few seconds since he last did it. You arch your back, closing all distance between your bodies. Chan starts placing kisses down your neck, his tongue teasing your thin skin. 

“I’ll make you feel good, baby girl,” he whispers. “I’ll make you forget for a little while. Do you trust me?” 

“Yes.” 

“It’s just you and me tonight. Let the rest fade away.” 

He puts his strong hands on your ass, and slowly moves it. You sway your hips, and the friction of his erection against you makes you moan softly. You plunge your face in the crook of his neck, kissing his shoulder blades. 

“Just you and me, yeah?” he whispers.

“Just you and me,” you nod. 

In a swift move he removes your shirt, groaning at the sight of your bralette. It’s made of a thin lacy material, so he can perfectly see your nipples, and immediately leans in to brush his lips against them. You shudder, your nails digging in the back of his neck. 

He removes your bra to gain access to your breasts, gently massaging them in his hands and sliding his tongue around them. Meanwhile, you caress his cock above his jeans, loving the way he tenses at your touch. 

“Hold on to me,” he tells you in a breath.

You wrap your arms around his neck and he lifts you up, only to gently lay you down on the couch so he’s on top of you. 

“Let me see you,” you breathe, grabbing his t-shirt. 

He obliges, removing the piece of clothing so you revel in the sight of his toned chest. You take off your sweatpants and stare as he removes his jeans as well, giving you a better sight of his athletic body. His boxers do nothing to hide his erection.

“Before this goes any further,” he says, and his voice sounds so raw it sends shivers down your spine. “Do you have -” 

“Bathroom,” you say with a nod. 

He smiles, bends to steal a kiss and disappears. You look up at the ceiling, suddenly very aware of your nakedness, of what you are about to do. 

It feels like you’ve been through ten days in one. 

This morning you woke up with dread. 

Now you are filled with hope. 

Is this going too fast? Should you wait? 

Maybe. 

You don’t want to. 

This feeling in your chest, that Chan helps surge, that threatens to burst - all this light, all this love. It’s been a while since you’ve felt that. From someone else, from yourself. 

So what if it’s too fast? You want to live. 

And if there’s a person you trust, it’s Chan. 

“Got it,” you hear him say as he reappears. 

You don’t really know what to say because you have all this love and light inside your chest and words would not feel enough, so you stay silent, only pull him back into a kiss. He lays on top of you, warm and a little unsteady. You can feel he’s a little nervous, just like you, but you don’t mind. You need his softness. You need his realness. 

You push his boxers down, feeling his cock touch your stomach. The sensation is enough to clear your mind, and you bite Chan’s lower lip a little. He answers with a slight chuckle. 

You want to tell him how crazy he makes you. How nice it is to feel him so warm and hard. How much this means to you. But for some reason, you can bring yourself to say anything, and neither does he. You just breathe together, febrile and eager. His fingers graze your wetness, and you shiver. Sensing your pleasure, Chan applies some pressure on your folds, leaning two fingers on your clit. You arch your back, moaning a little louder than you expected. Your hands reach for him, palming his cock, your own fingers brushing his tip. 

“Fuck,” Chan grunts. “Y/N…” 

“Channie, please,” you whisper. 

“Wait,” he answers. “I want to do something first, if this is my only chance.” 

You frown, opening your eyes as you feel him move. You quickly understand what he means, however, as his lips trace a path of wet kisses on your stomach and your thighs. Soon his breath is against your core, and you forget how to breathe. 

When his tongue touches you, it’s like a hundred sensations at once, and you can’t hold back a shaky moan. Your fingers grab the couch as Chan pushes your legs further apart. He kisses you, pressing his tongue into you, attentive to your reactions. 

“You’re gorgeous, you know?” he says, although you barely hear him. “Keep moaning for me, baby girl.” 

A surge of pleasure goes through your body, enveloping you in silk, and you grab Chan’s hair, instinctively pushing him against your clit as his tongue encloses it. 

“Fuck, fuck, Chan, I’m…” you whimper.

“Are you coming?” 

You nod, and he buries his nose in you, embracing your sensitive spots. Your orgasm makes your whole body tremble against him, and he holds your legs as you do, making sure to accompany you throughout. 

As you come down, slowly, you blink back into reality. You look at him a little timidly, realizing your fingers are still tangled in his hair. You place your palm against his head, caressing it tenderly.  

“I’m so sorry,” you mutter. “Did I hurt you?” 

“Not at all,” he chuckles. “It was beautiful.” 

You bite your lip and he moves so he can kiss you. Your taste is on his lips and his tongue and it’s making you a little dizzy. 

It’s been a while since you’ve felt as good as this. 

Not that the sex with San was bad - but it faded at the same time your love did. When you broke up you had not touched each other like that - barely kissed, even - for weeks.

Although you’re sensitive, you really want to make Chan feel good. You need him inside you, stretching you, making you whole. You align your legs so his cock falls between them, and you grind slowly. His breath hitches against your lips, and you take it as a hint he likes it. 

“You made me feel so good, Channie,” you tell him in between kisses. “I want to do the same for you.” 

“Fuck, you’re so warm,” he lets out. 

“I want you inside me,” you say. 

He nods fervently, puts on the condom he got from the bathroom and aligns himself with your entrance. You feel so relaxed and tense at the same time, tucked in his arms on the couch, the rest of the world faded away. He enters you slowly, letting you time to adjust to his size, and you breathe out slowly. 

He feels so different. He feels so right. You are a bundle of nerves he unmakes.

He thrusts his hips at a measured, exquisite pace. Each time he goes deeper, and you cry out in pleasure, your fingers digging in the skin of his muscled back. You feel the fever, you feel the want. He breathes heavily against your neck, holding you tight. 

“You okay?” he asks in a whisper. 

“Don’t stop,” you tell him, arching a little to facilitate his movements. 

Chan doesn’t stop. As he makes love to you - because it is what he is doing - you sense his thrusts getting a little more erratic. In the quiet of the living room you hear nothing but the sound of him plunging inside you, his cock smeared by your wetness, his breathing mingling with yours. It is so erotic, so loving, your second orgasm is building quickly and deliciously. 

Chan accelerates. You pant, moaning nonsense. 

“Come with me,” he breathes, and that is the last thing you need to come undone. 

It’s enthralling how your soul escapes you and yet stays right there, against Chan, around him, with him. As you clench around his cock, you hear a delightful moan escape his throat, rough and hoarse, and it keeps you right above the clouds with him as he comes inside of you. You feel him twitch before he relaxes slowly. 

His lips find your forehead and he plants the softest of kisses there. 

As you sink into the couch, he removes himself from you, and lays down on top of your body. You don’t mind the weight - in fact, it feels just right. His nose is in your neck, his breath tickling your sweat-covered skin. Your fingers slide in his hair, and you close your eyes. 

You give yourselves time to recover. As the high fades, you feel Chan’s breathing relax and get more steady. 

“Channie,” you whisper with a smile. “Don’t fall asleep.” 

“Hm?” he groans, lifting his head to look at you. 

With his hair all over the place, his small eyes and swollen lips, he looks ready to pass out. It elicits a large smile from you, and you tenderly caress his cheek. 

“Let’s get to bed,” you tell him. 

He nods. You stand up on shaky legs, and help him on his feet. Together you close the lights in the apartment, and then you take his hand to guide him towards the bathroom. You take the time to clean up and head to the bedroom. The lights are off except for the fairy lights hanging above your bed. Once you’re there, you open a drawer, take out a t-shirt that will fit him. 

You slip under the sheets, Chan next to you. He pulls you into his arms, and you put your head on his shoulder. 

The rain has slowed to a drizzle.

Who knows what the sky will look like tomorrow? 

For now you just want to sleep against Charm’s warmth.

“Get some rest, love,” he whispers to you. 

“Goodnight, Channie.” 

“Goodnight.”

Thank you so much for reading! Please leave a comment or reblog with a word in the tags if you can. It's truly appreciated ♡

[ivalice-tifalucis]

I am so obsessed with this rendition of Again from From the Rehearsal Room: Tokyo that I decided to extract its audio, master it with my limited knowledge in audacity and little help from AI, put it on my music playlist, and even consider trying to extract everything from this particular stream, from what I found on bilibili. I think of all 3 livestream they did, this one is the best because of the song choices, the studio acoustic (I'm always obsessed with good sound acoustic in music recording), and the simple arrangement consists of grand piano (wonderfully played by the way, kudos to the pianist) and two guitars by Ramin and Hadley themselves. I notice this is the first one they did, isn't it? Because they were trapped in long quarantine and Sierra eventually couldn't come. I'm late to this so I only read how it went and I feel sad.

Also presenting some other songs that I have extracted:

Hadley sings Maria(??!!) and it's so good wtf. That high note, gosh.

Ramin's special, of course. I need this because I want Till I Hear You Sing without "ten long yeaars" part but there is no other more good recording on apple music/spotify except that one from Ramin's album which I really hate (the whole album basically). So thank god this exists.

I actually know this song for long because it was on some ad but I think that was Sinatra's version. I didn't know this song is from a musical until I fall down to this hole. Actually found out a lot of songs that actually are from musicals thanks to this hole. Gosh, I used to be so deep into musicals during Les Mis movie era but not THIS deep.

[accio-victuuri]

i have been doing cpn posts here and there about wyb’s alleged song list and here is another one. i’m just gonna name it wyb’s playlist cpn from now on. so the explanation is, some people know wyb’s personal qq music account so if you follow him you can see what he has been listening to. i am not really familiar with the app so idk how the settings work if he can hide some. no one is saying how they found out about the account, which makes sense for privacy. in a similar way that some fans know zz/wyb’s gaming account till now. feel free to not believe it cause i understand that things like this can be sus & people on the internet tend to lie.

for me personally tho, i love this cause i think music really speaks of what someone is feeling. and you have wyb who is not exactly big on social media so we rarely know anything. aside from his now extensive movie list, his playlist is something that is interesting too. not necessarily cpn-wise all the time.

this post will cover golden hour & some recent eason chan tracks added. 🎶🎵

The first one is GOLDEN HOUR which was used in ZZ’s vlog in Milan. It was a pretty popular song back then but it became more know because of ZZ’s post and even the singer reacted to it. Since then, it’s been a favorite among BXGs considering the meaning of it too.

This is what WYB’s playlist looked like on 3/28/23 People who follow said he hasn’t updated it for a week and then suddenly this track is added in. A piano version of Golden Hour. They say WYB usually adds relaxing music like piano tracks and some of nature, but not often. So it’s interesting how this one was added. At the time, they just don’t know the relevance. ( this screenshot was taken 00:38 3/29 but it has been this way since 3/28 )

and um hello to the rihanna songs! he is such a fanboy! as he should. and also kendrick! 👋🏼

then XZS posts the vlog with that BGM the next day.

dude, what are the chances. these vlogs are edited real time, we know that xzs team were working hard to feed content so the song must have been decided then and there. wyb listening to that the day before, next day it’s the BGM for ZZ’s vlog? i’m just thinking about ZZ sending it to him first to watch then WYB decided to add the song to his playlist. Or maybe they have already been lovin it and decided to use it on ZZ’s vlog.

so sweet!!!! 🥹🥹🥹🥹

the most recent one is this updated 2/13 ( the 3rd track i blurred sung by faye wong, i already talked about here ) :

The first one is this song ⬇️⬇️⬇️ which is about accompanying someone as a form of love. and isn’t that so them? it’s a known message that they both believe in, accompanying that person is a way of showing your love. screenshot 1 is from YT of a native speaker translating the title and that’s the one i’m going with.

also, sorry but i’m linking R1SE’s cover of the song cause it’s beautiful. 🫶🏼

AND THESE LINES! WYB is such a romantic! I cannot! It’s so him! Someone who will like and love this one thing and will stick to it till the end. 🥹

Accompanying you to turn loneliness into bravery

I lost again and again, I didn’t leave

Accompanying is the longest love confession

How long is the future

Stay with you until the story is finished

This is the second one, cloudy day. Which he was also allegedly listening to back in 3/2022 when he was filming and they haven’t seen each other for month.

What does the sky look like

What is love like

Several clouds forgot where to go on a cloudy day

Missing and loneliness

Blowed into the left ear

Maybe I can’t remember, but I can’t forget the time

That secret happiness

What to say to the cloudy day

From what i can gather, it’s about thinking of love and the good things even if it’s a cloudy day. Usually it must feel sad, but this person still chooses to see the good in it. Again, this is so WYB. He sees it and does not mope, he remembers the blue sky and white clouds instead.

Eason Chan is a famous singer that a lot of people listen to so i know that WYB is not the only person in China who probably has one of his songs on his playlist. Compared to Golden Hour which was unusual and the timing being sus. However for this, the fact that it’s added close to Valentines Day? Is this what he is feeling? So freakin in love! ♥️🥹

Anyway, I hope they had fun with the time they had together last CNY break ( allegedly ) and that their love endures & flourishes in the years to come! 🫶🏼

sources: one // two

[stellar-constellations]

Star Patient's Official Playlists!

Hello, my stars! My previous poll has shown positive feedback for adding playlists to my Amnesiac! Obsessive! Patient! Andrew Graves x Yandere! Nurse! Reader—Star Patient series. so here's the announcement!

I have six playlists for my stars to listen to while reading my yandere series. Each playlist is unique with their own meanings. This post is the explanation and introductory of these playlists and what they offer to your ears and reading experience. Links are provided!

The playlists:

Playlist 1 - (Y/N)'s Mixtape

A playlist of many different genres all brought together by the emotions of (Y/N)! Throughout the series, we see many different sides of our reader, so it only makes sense for our playlist to have many different genres too! From punk, to old love songs, to alt rock, and of course it wouldn't be (Y/N) without depression and lovesickness!

Some of these songs may even give hints about (Y/N) and future characters and plots too...

Soundcloud link: (https://soundcloud.com/stellar-constellations/sets/star-patient-y-n?si=24e8c3f8eaa4478b9a34d348d71a062e&utm_source=clipboard&utm_medium=text&utm_campaign=social_sharing)

Spotify link: (https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6kPtVJvCbki4fcnmK5GZT4?si=cc841fae0bcc4682)

Playlist 2 - Andrew's Mix

What I believe Andrew would personally listen and what songs he would like, so basically the playlist is my music headcannons for him. These are simple head cannons that are just harmless opinions, harmless opinions that people shouldn't take seriously nor should they act like freaks about (y'all know the type of people I'm talking about, they're unfortunately very common in the TCOAAL fandom).

These songs also correlate to his past (we all know it, being starved and abandoned with Ashley), along with the development of his feelings to (Y/N).

Soundcloud link: (https://soundcloud.com/stellar-constellations/sets/star-patient-andrews-mix?si=719861d03c2649e0a23ae69ccbc826a9&utm_source=clipboard&utm_medium=text&utm_campaign=social_sharing)

Spotify link: (https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4xnGLNokCmIk8tajzKzKED?si=88f08a43050744f7)

Playlist 3 - Oldies Playlist

A playlist for all our old souls. I feel like Tumblr playlists are so boring because they don't have much playlists that really connect with the readers. All of my readers have different tastes in music and I wish to accommodate them. Of course, I unfortunately can't do all the genres I wish (metal, rock, country) due to the fact that they wouldn't quite match Star Patient's themes nor would there be much songs that resonate with the series; however, old love songs music is fortunately a genre that can be interpreted with Star Patient!

This playlist is a of old love songs, a genre I would die for!

Soundcloud link (https://soundcloud.com/stellar-constellations/sets/star-patient-oldies-playlist?si=b7f1d157b16d45079d83c9a8c4d6d3ee&utm_source=clipboard&utm_medium=text&utm_campaign=social_sharing)

Spotify link:(https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0Y20wh1ahOq3D7zJMWchH5?si=9676e70feb7a46ec)

Playlist 4 - Calming Playlist

A place to de-stress and read some yandere fan fiction. This playlist has many calming melodies and lyrics verging from nostalgia, sadness, and love. Not everyone likes listening to loud pop or screaming lyrics, so this playlist is for those who enjoy the peaceful voices and sounds of violins and pianos.

While this playlist is similar to instrumental, it's still has its own place.

Soundcloud link (https://soundcloud.com/stellar-constellations/sets/star-patient-calming-playlist?si=85d0b7e90b0a4992a49d552319b1069e&utm_source=clipboard&utm_medium=text&utm_campaign=social_sharing)

Spotify link: (https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1GZSLwRTSgly9iTuw6minI?si=c0f5569290ec41f1)

Playlist 5 - Instrumental Playlist

While this playlist is similar to the calming playlist, this one has practically no lyrics. It does have some lo-fi, classical, and instrumental soundtracks all spread throughout the playlist.

I understand some people can't focus on reading if there's any voices as it serves as a distraction for those who have a harder time focusing on tasks, so hopefully this playlist will help making it easier for those who want to read and listen at the same time!

Soundcloud link (https://soundcloud.com/stellar-constellations/sets/star-patient-y-n-1?si=05a1e6c6de5e47f1930af5f5cc1c925f&utm_source=clipboard&utm_medium=text&utm_campaign=social_sharing)

Spotify link:(https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7msbvdBueJCKmcGrA7mwvX?si=c05c10f2d6724ad4)

Playlist 6 - Obsessive Playlist

And finally, we have the obsessive playlist aka the yandere playlist. It would be wrong not to have a playlist full of devotion and lovesickness for a series that features just that!

This playlist features tons of different genres and lyrics all relating to yandere. It has some of the classic yandere songs, but honestly I've gotten bored listening to the same songs in every yandere playlist so I've expanded beyond just those. Let's be honest, we all know "Suki Suki Daisuki" and "An Unhealthy Obsession" is in every yandere playlist, it's time for some new songs.

Soundcloud link (https://soundcloud.com/stellar-constellations/sets/star-patient-obsessive?si=77c70d1f293e47199829fe51c4b07255&utm_source=clipboard&utm_medium=text&utm_campaign=social_sharing)

Spotify link: (https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2W82XwZate1IAfGPOeWIF3?si=6c0e40160fdb4984)

[kykeee]

Hello! I'm hosting a drawing challenge this October called Songtober! The goal of the month is to create art inspired by songs which correlate with the prompts listed.

Please tag your art with #songtober2024 !

For anyone confused about what any of the prompts mean, here's a list with more detailed descriptions;

1. Childhood

A song from your childhood.

2. Love

A song about love. The definition is loose! Could be platonic love, toxic love, heartbreak, etc.

3. Instrumental

A song with no vocals.

4. Hidden gem

Any song you feel is unknown/underrated.

5. Guitar solo

Any song with a guitar solo.

6. Rest!!

7. Sad

A sad song.

8. Guilty pleasure

Any song you'd be embarrassed to play in the car ride.

9. Fast

A song with a fast paced rhythm and/or vocals.

10. Slow

A song with a slow paced rhythm and/or vocals.

11. Piano

Any song that noticeably features piano.

12. Rest!!!

13. Abrupt end

A song that ends abruptly.

14. Fade out

A song that fades out.

15. Happy

A song that makes you feel happy!

16. Recently discovered

A song you've recently discovered.

17. No MV/Album art

For this prompt, you need to get creative without existing visuals. You can base your drawing on the lyrics, tone, etc.

18. Rest!!

19. Precious

A song that you hold close to your heart.

20. Cute

A cute song! This is loose definition, could be cute-creepy if you want.

21. Two or more singers

A song with multiple singers.

22. Most Listened To

Your most listened to song this month/year/all time. Your choice!

23. Drum Solo

A song with a drum solo.

24. Rest!!!!

25. Funny

A funny song! Again, definition is loose.

26. Song Swap

Exchange recommendations and draw art inspired by the song you got in return. Could be with anyone, they don't have to be doing the challenge as well!

27. Violin

A song that noticeably features violin.

28. Story

A song that tells a clear story with a beginning, middle, and end. (Examples: Lamprey Hole, Stomach Book, Kagerou Daze.)

29. Shuffle

Press shuffle for a random song! Could use all of your music or a specific playlist.

30. Spooky

A scary song!! Get spooky!!!!

[urfavmafioso]

vito scaletta headcanons 🤎

- vito smells like the spray called ‘lynx africa’ (‘lynx’ is known as ‘axe’ in other countries)

- autumn is his favourite season. he absolutely adores cloudy days. if he’s in a good mood, he loves sunny afternoons. the dark blue sky before night or sunrise is another one he likes. vito loves to look out the window while thinking and sometimes goes on walks

- even though vito is a strong tough guy, he does get quite emotional and sentimental at times but seems to hide it (perhaps he has a good cry when nobody’s around. bit of a softie)

- baby blue, black and brown are vito’s favourite colours

- chicken pizza is his go-to pizza flavour. and of course, ham and cheese sandwiches are his favourite food!

- when it comes to instruments, vito is good at all of these: piano, drums, accoustic guitar and even singing (my vito A.I voice cover proves he can sing like an angel)

listen to his singing, you will not be disappointed 🥹🫶

- vito gives the bestest hugs you could ever feel in your life

- his hair is really soft and he cares a lot for his fashionable outfits

- (modern time music) vito is the kind of guy to listen to sad stuff like alex g, tv girl, the cardigans, fiona apple, lana del rey, radiohead and mother mother. especially fiona’s album called ‘tidal’. but he tends to gravitate a lot to alex g since he’s just a quiet chill sad boy. also, out of all music genres, his favourite is emotional piano/violin/acoustic guitar music

(take a quick look at my vito playlist if you wanna get the idea of what mixed stuff he likes to listen to)

[storiesofsvu]

Holiday Bingo 2023

That's right besties! It's that time of year again! And in an attempt to keep y'all entertained with your favourite blorbos, I'm hosting this bingo so we can all share our creations and you have something to fixate on while I'm busy as hell at work!

As per usual:

Submissions can be anything! A mood board, a ficlet, headcanons, drabble, gif sets, one shots, social media au's, make it a mini series following the holiday journey of the same two characters! literally whatever you want!

Prompts are all winter/holiday themed. If it specifically says "Christmas" it does not need to be Christmas, it can be whatever holiday this time of year that you want!

Read the rest of the rules under the cut!

Prompts can be made into any genre, make it super spicy, make it tooth rottingly sweet, make it angsty as all hell and break our hearts, make it a wild AU, do whatever you want with them as long as they are what inspired your story. (aka "first snowfall" could be the first time character a is seeing snow, it could be the first snow of the year, it could be the characters baby's/dog's first time seeing snow. It can be cute, catching snow flakes on tongues or sad, bringing back memories with a friend who has passed. Literally whatever you want.) Just make sure to include any and all appropriate warnings/tags at the TOP of the post and I don't want to see any TikTok censoring of words!

Fics can be a ship, a reader insert, an OC, or any kind of crossover! Mix and match, stick with one, try out a new character or fandom!

Accepted Fandoms:

Literally everything and everyone. This is wide open to any and every fandom/show/movie that you want, it's free game besties! It doesn't matter if I write/read that fandom, do what you would like!

Some Inspiration:

-Law and Order (OG, OC, SVU)

-Criminal Minds

-Marvel

-NCIS

-One Chicago

-Abbott Elementary

-Mayans

-Grey's Anatomy/Private Practice

-911/Lonestar

-OUAT

-The L Word

-Wednesday

Rules:

You MUST tag me @storiesofsvu and use the hashtag #storiesofsvuholidaybingo2023 on each creation and I'll put together the masterlist.

Bingo begins on November 25th and will run all the way to January 20th.

You may only post/submit ONE creation per day!

Only one bingo square per creation

No underage characters involved in relations.

Tag all and every warning appropriately at the top of the fic

Anything over 1000 words must be under a readmore!

Everyone is welcomed and encouraged to participate! You do not need to be following me, we don't need to be mutuals, if you see this post and want to play, let's go!

If anyone has questions, feel free to comment or send me a message/ask!

Some playlists to get us in the mood:

________________

tagging some people who might be interested? (if you got tagged and have no idea who i am/where this came from it is likely that i have read your stuff and loved it/have some bookmarked on my to bed read lol. feel free to ignore.)

@prentiss-theorem @swimmingstudentchaos891 @rustyzebra @plaidbooks @thatesqcrush @adarafaelbarba @detective-giggles @mickey-gomez @alexusonfire @bumblebear30 @tropes-and-tales @unitchiefs-blackbirdphoenix @beccabarba @prurientpuddlejumper @fighterkimburgess @baubeautyandthegeek @melk917 @blackbird-brewster @virescent-v @leftoverenvy @iamnotoriginalphil @happenstnces @daddy-heather-dunbar @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece @five-bi-five-main @thehauntingofbasingse @supercriminalbean @h0tch-r0cket @bullet-prooflove @boldlyvoid @astrophileous @slutforsilverfoxes @cissyenthusiast010155 @hotchs-bitch @honeypiehotchner @whiteberryx @v3nusxsky

[mitskicentral]

5 things you may not have known about mitski's second album, retired from sad, new career in business

1. retired from sad, new career in business has two formerly privated music videos, square and strawberry blond. they were made unlisted in 2023 and are now accessible through the rfsncib playlist on mitski's youtube channel.

2. the streaming tracklist used to have two songs, square (solo piano version) and shame (jammin' out solo version) which were deleted for unexplained reasons.

3. shame was originally written for a dance film by big evil collective, titled "dalliance"

4. the photographer for the album cover (jade greene) says he took the photos at theater x, a spot between the suny purchase performing arts center and bookstore

5. as with lush, retired from sad, new career in business does not have a physical release as mitski self-released it rather than through a label

this is day 1 of the mitski advent calendar 2023, a series of daily mitski content leading up to christmas

treat yourself and listen to the mitski song of the day:

[viburnt]

Older brothers || Little things they do

Genre: Fluff

Type: Headcanons

Characters involved: Lucifer (Obey me!), Mammon (Obey me!), Leviathan (Obey me!)

Prompt: Little things they do to communicate with you.

Lucifer

�� Lucifer is gifted when it comes to music, that is no secret. He adores his piano and takes great care of it.

• Part of him feels like he can express the feelings inside his chest better that way: sadness, anger, love; a key for each one of his emotions.

• One subtle thing he did, and that perhaps took you time to notice, was leaving the door of his studio open for you while he played.

• You'd walk by and listen, not coincidentally, to your favorite melody turned into a beautiful piano tune.

• Lucifer would notice you curiously peeking through the door and smile, pretending as if he hadn't seen you.

• The small sounds of amazement that escaped your mouth and the little claps you'd give to cheer on him were more than enough to make him happy.

• This demon also takes a look at your music playlist while you are not looking, so he can learn the scores.

• Piano is his way to say “I'm here for you, come closer.”

Mammon

• The second oldest has the soul of a crow trapped on his pretty little bubble head. He likes shiny and glittery things, valuable stuff; his sin is greed, after all.

• He hoards all kinds of items that catch his eye: Golden coins, silver jewelry, gemstones. Of course, it's a small loot, and he hides it very well from his brothers.

• Once he considers his treasure is worthy enough- it never is to his standards, but he tries – he puts it in a small cardboard box and leaves it on your bed.

• The first couple times it happened, you were a little confused. Mammon would only stammer something along the lines of “For you, dumb human” and leave, trying to- unsuccessfully- hide his flushed face.

• After a while, you started a small collection of the many things the demon gave you. It became a little game; you'd sort them out by color, size, and material.

• If you decide to wear a piece of jewelry from “Mammon's awesome treasure” (as he called it), he gets all goofy and dumb, boasting about it.

• If he notices you staring at an item a little too long at a store, he steals it buys it for you. He could be drowning in debt and still get you pretty gifts.

• Giving you shiny stuff is Mammon's way of saying “All of mine is yours too”. However, the meaning of his action also implies “No matter what, you are still more valuable than these things.”

Leviathan

• Leviathan, much like Mammon, can be qualified as a hoarder. The only difference between them would be, perhaps, that Levi tries to keep his stuff tidy and organized.

• We all know he is into anime and manga, so it's not uncommon for him to be reading or binge-watching his favorite series.

• A thing he does for you, even if it may seem like a burden to him, is that he always explains to you the plot of his anime. Like, he genuinely believes that if he manages to make you understand, you'll feel less weirded out by his weeabo self.

• It's not like his eagerness for these things bothers you, you find it kind of cute, but it'd be a lie to say that you understand what he talks about all the time.

• So you'd sit close to him, watching him read/watch his stuff in silence, and lean your head on his shoulder. Almost like a switch, he'd pause the episode or interrupt his lecture to tell you in great detail “How the protagonist sucks because he is overpowered”, etc.

• He felt closer to you that way, you were a haven for an introvert like him, so he'd really try to keep you around.

• Another thing he does is that, whenever you knock on his door to hang out in his room, he always takes a little longer to open. It's not because he is nervous about you visiting, he just freaks out because he doesn't want you to see his special merch. Wouldn't want you to think you are a creep.

• This is Leviathan's way to say “I care about you, please stay a while. I need you by my side.” He accommodates his hobbies so that you can fit on them with ease; better with you than to be alone.

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