#tal vez . tune in to find out

[brargweek]

| ENGLISH |

Hello everyone! Hope you haven’t missed us too much ♥

We’re happy to announce our inbox is officially open for suggestions for Brarg Week 2021’s daily challenges! You’ll have until October 10 to visit our inbox and share with us all those juicy ideas and scenarios you’d love to see our favourite couple get thrown into.

If you’re looking for inspiration, we invite you to check out previous years’ suggestions - just remember we’ll only consider prompts that haven’t made it to the final cut in previous editions. You can find the previous promptlists here: 2017 - 2018 - 2019 - 2020.

We like to keep innovating ourselves with every edition and this year is no different; we thought adding some neutral voting system would give brarg shippers outside tumblr a chance to have their voice heard. Instead of picking the posts with more notes, we’ll do it with a poll we’ll share with you once we close our inbox. The poll will remain open for a week, so make sure to stay tuned so you don’t miss it!

Go hit our ask box!

...

| ESPAÑOL |

¡Qué tal, gente! Esperamos no nos hayan extrañado mucho ♥

¡Nos complace anunciar que nuestro inbox oficialmente está abierto para recibir sugerencias para los desafíos diarios de la Brarg Week 2021! Tendrán hasta el 10 de octubre para mensajearnos y compartirnos las situaciones y escenarios en los que les gustaría ver a nuestra pareja favorita.

Si andan en busca de inspiración, los invitamos a darle un vistazo a las sugerencias de años anteriores – solo recuerden que solo vamos a tener en consideración prompts que no hayan sido ya explotados. Pueden checkear las promptlists de años anteriores aquí: 2017 - 2018 - 2019 - 2020.

Nos gusta innovarnos con cada edición y este año no es excepción: pensamos que agregar un sistema de voto en terreno neutral les va a dar a los brarg shippers fuera de tumblr una oportunidad de ser escuchados. En vez de elegir las publicaciones con más notas, este año vamos a compartirles una encuesta una vez que cerremos nuestro inbox. La encuesta estará disponible por una semana, ¡a estar atentos para no perdérsela!

¡Vayan a visitar nuestro ask box!

...

| PORTUGUÊS |

Oi, todo mundo! Espero que não tenham sentido muita saudade de nós ♥

Ficamos felizes de anunciar que oficialmente abrimos as sugestões para os desafios diários da Brarg Week 2021! Vocês terão até 10 de outubro para mandar em nossa inbox as suas ideias e cenários nos quais gostariam de ver nosso casalzinho favorito.

Se estão buscando inspiração, sugerimos dar uma olhada nas sugestões dos anos anteriores - mas lembrem-se de que só vamos levar em consideração os temas que não entraram na lista final das edições passadas. Podem encontrar as listas de temas anteriores aqui: 2017 - 2018 - 2019 - 2020.

Gostamos de inovar a cada edição, e esse ano não será diferente. Pensamos em usar um sistema neutro de votação para dar aos brarg shipper de fora do Tumblr uma chance de serem ouvidos. Ao invés de escolher os posts com maior número de notas, vamos fazer uma enquete que vamos compartilhar com vocês depois de fecharmos a inbox. A enquete ficará aberta por uma semana, então fiquem ligados para não perdê-la!

Vão visitar nossa ask box!

[hamiltonauthebrother]

21 grams of soul [Alexader Hamilton AU]

Español:

    La muerte puede perdonar, pero no la vida, ella siempre te hará pagar cada decisión, cada pequeño atajo que intentes tomar, ella te lo refregará en la cara, haciéndote sufrir por la culpa que te carcomerá el alma hasta el día que su amante te reclame y guié tu alma hacía la paz.

Al menos eso creía Alexander Hamilton, al menos ese vago sentimiento se asomaba todos los días por su corazón, cuando no hallaba hermoso en aquella vida que aquella puesta de sol que adornaba el paisaje de su ventana. Esa única imagen que reflejaban sus pupilas, tan vivido como la sonrisa aún viva de su pequeño primogénito.

Cada día se preguntaba como él estaría, si su amada Eliza le alimentaba como era debido. Postrado en aquella cama, sin ninguna posibilidad de moverse, él cantaba con cariño la pequeña canción que solían tocar ellos en aquel hermoso piano de pie. Aún recuerda lo emocionada que estaba su amada el día que se hicieron con aquel bello instrumento, aún recuerda como sus manos paseaban con recelo por cada tecla, como si sus ojos reflejaran otro mundo que él desconocía.

Pero, así fueron desde el primer día que se conocieron. Ellos habían acordado en silencio unir sus vidas pero nunca desistir de su propio mundo, aquel que ocultaba sus sentimientos y sus culpas. Aquel que se llevaría a la tumba todas aquellas personas que habían lastimado y besado sus pieles. Aquel que los sostendrían cuando no les quedara más que un cuerpo deshecho por los años.

Los años. ¿Cuántos habían pasado?

Eliza le había prometido que le contaría sobre los progresos de su único hijo, pero no había oído nada al respecto desde hace algunos meses, tal vez, desde un año ¿Por qué su pequeño hijo no le visitaba?

Pasó su mano por el puente de su nariz, para luego llegar a aquella cicatriz que tenía desde hace algún tiempo en la nuca. Él realmente no recordaba el cómo se la había hecho, menos por qué no tenía presente semejante herida en sus memorias. No era propio de él omitir detalles. Pero por alguna razón, no poseía interés en esa pequeñez.

Sólo seguía tarareando aquella tonada de piano que había oído de su pequeño niño de 6 años.

--¿6 años?- Murmuró Alexander, levantándose de a poco de la cama, mirando alrededor aquella alcoba que se le hacía ajena a su realidad-. Él nació el 2 de enero del 1782…- Sus músculos se tensaron y estiró su mano hacia la mesada, donde se hallaban sus lentes. Se sentía indefenso-. Pero ¿No estamos en el 1784?- Entonces sus manos empezaron a temblar, llevando sus dedos a su pecho-. Y ¿Laurens? ¿Él… dónde está? ¿Por qué no vino a visitarme? ¿Todavía seguirá luchando por la libertad de los esclavos? Ese tonto…- Rio sínicamente mientras intentaba levantarse de aquella desconocida cama.

Sus piernas dolían demasiado, como si estuvieran entumecidas, como sí el tiempo hubiera afectado el movimiento de sus extremidades.

--Eliza…- Llamó, a punto de estallar en lágrimas, sin saber sí era por causa del dolor o por el sentimiento de vacío que se hallaba en su interior-. ¡Eliza!- Gritó esta vez, siendo sus ojos quienes dejaran escapar lágrimas gordas de una mezcla confusa de sentimientos.

Entonces sus piernas no pudieron resistir más y cayó al sólo salir de la alcoba, mirando el extraño panorama que lo envolvía, pasillos ajenos a su antigua casa, se sentía aprisionado y sus latidos causaban que el temor que albergaba en su interior aumentara.

¿Qué estaba pasando?

--¿Papá, estás bien?- Oyó una voz juvenil, que le llenó de fragancias familiares, dirigiendo sus ojos hacia el joven muchacho que yacía de pie al lado de él, de cabello rojo y mirada brillante, le recordaba en cierta forma a él, pero lo desconocía, acaso oyó bien ¿Papá?

--¿Quién eres tú?

Él no podía notarlo, pero sus ojos yacían si vida, su alma anhelaba escapar de aquel cuerpo, de aquella maldición que le había apagado, que le había extinguido sin haberlo matado.

--¡John!- Oyó otra voz, un tanto mayor, un muchacho con igual aire corrió hacia a él y lo alejó de la maltrecha figura de aquel hombre pelirrojo, reprendiendo a su hermano con una mirada poco cariñosa-. Ve con mamá y dile que papá se volvió a levantar.

--Pero, hermano James…

--Ahora he dicho.- El pequeño obedeció entonces sin chistar y se alejó rápidamente de ambos hombres-. Padre, ven, necesitas volver a la cama.- Amagó a ayudarlo pero entonces Alexander retrocedió.

--¿Quién eres?

--Soy tu tercer hijo, James Alexander, papá.

--Yo no tengo más hijos que Philip…- Repuso, intentando escapar de aquel desconocido, pero al parecer su figura era más capaz que la de él, por lo que lo levantó pese a las quejas.

--Está bien, papá. Sólo hay que volver a la cama. Mamá pronto llegará.

--…- Entonces su mirada cayó en la perdida, cayó en el vacío y su voz se disipó en un pequeño quejido.

--¿Papá? ¿Qué ocurre?

--¿Ah?- Contestó totalmente ajeno a la situación-. ¿Quién eres?

A veces la muerte nos perdona, pero eso no significará que la vida lo haga. Ella siempre te hará pagar por los errores y los atajos que hayas elegido. Siempre que pueda te refregará en la cara tus culpas. Ella te maldecirá y no te dejará escapar, hasta el momento en que tu cuerpo desista de todo atisbo de vida, pero acaso ¿todavía hay vida en aquellos ojos cristalinos que parecen perdidos en el tiempo?

Acaso ¿aquellos 21 gramos de alma siguen estando ahí?

English:

Death can forgive, but not life, she will always make you pay for every decision, every little shortcut you try to take, she will rub it in your face, making you suffer for the guilt that will eat your soul until the day your lover claim and guide your soul to peace.

At least that's what Alexander Hamilton believed, at least that vague feeling peeked every day through his heart, when he did not find it beautiful in that life that the sunset that adorned the landscape of his window. That only image that reflected his pupils, as vivid as the smile still alive of his little firstborn.

Every day he wondered how he would be, if his beloved Eliza fed him properly. Prostrate in that bed, without any possibility of moving, he sang with affection the little song that they used to play on that beautiful standing piano. He still remembers how excited his beloved was the day they took that beautiful instrument, he still remembers how his hands were walking with suspicion for each key, as if his eyes reflected another world that he did not know.

But, that's how they were from the first day they met. They had agreed in silence to unite their lives but never to give up their own world, the one that hid their feelings and their guilt. He who would take to the grave all those people who had hurt and kissed their skins. The one who would hold them when they had nothing left but a body undone for years.

The years. How many had passed?

Eliza had promised to tell him about the progress of her only son, but she had not heard anything about it for a few months, maybe, since a year. Why did not her little son visit him?

He ran his hand over the bridge of his nose, to then reach that scar that had for some time in the neck. He really did not remember how he had done it, except why he did not have such a present in his memories. It was not proper for him to omit details. But for some reason, he had no interest in that smallness.

He just kept humming that piano tune he had heard from his 6-year-old little boy.

"Six years?" Alexander murmured, getting up slowly from the bed, looking around that alcove that was alien to his reality. He was born on January 2, 1782 ... "His muscles tensed and he stretched his hand toward the counter, where his glasses were. He felt helpless. But are not we in 1784? - Then his hands began to tremble, bringing his fingers to his chest. And Laurens? He ... where is he? Why did not he come to visit me? Will he still fight for the freedom of the slaves? That fool ... - Rio sínicamente while trying to get up from that unknown bed.

His legs hurt too much, as if they were numb, as if time had affected the movement of his limbs.

--Eliza ... - He called, ready to burst into tears, not knowing if it was because of the pain or the feeling of emptiness that was inside. Eliza! "She shouted this time, her eyes letting out fat tears of mixed confused feelings.

Then his legs could not resist any more and he fell just out of the bedroom, looking at the strange panorama that surrounded him, corridors foreign to his old house, he felt imprisoned and his heartbeat caused the fear inside him to increase.

What was happening?

--Dad, are you okay?- He heard a youthful voice, which filled him with familiar fragrances, directing his eyes towards the young boy who was standing next to him, with red hair and bright eyes, reminded him in a certain way He, but he did not know, did he hear well. Dad?

--Who are you?

He could not notice it, but his eyes were still life, his soul longed to escape from that body, from that curse that had extinguished him, that had extinguished him without killing him.

--John!- He heard another voice, a little louder, a boy with equal air ran towards him and pulled him away from the battered figure of that red-haired man, berating his brother with an unloving look-. Go with mom and tell her dad got up again.

--But, brother James ...

--Now I said.- The little boy then obeyed without hesitation and quickly walked away from both men-. Father, come, you need to go back to bed.- He tried to help him but then Alexander stepped back.

--Who you are?

--I am your third son, James Alexander, dad.

--I have no more children than Philip...- He replied, trying to escape from that stranger, but apparently his figure was more capable than his, so he raised it despite the complaints.

--Ok dad. You just have to go back to bed. Mom will come soon.

- ...- Then his eyes fell on the lost, fell into the void and his voice dissipated in a small moan.

--Dad? What happen?

- Ah?- He answered totally oblivious to the situation-. Who you are?

Sometimes death forgives us, but that does not mean that life does. She will always make you pay for the errors and shortcuts that there are

[little-writings]

(｡･ω･)ﾉﾞ hello there! i just want to mention how much i love your writings and if you could please write Jumin with a hispanic MC it would be greatly appreciated! but i totally understand if you can't get around to it or you're just not feeling it. either way, thanks for all you've written and please don't ever stop! (｡･ ω ･｡)

Thank you so much that’s so sweet I’m so glad you enjoy my writings! I only hope they’re able to continue to do so in the future!

As for the request, I’d be more than happy to do so! However, if there’s anything in the prompt you don’t like or would like changed let me know! I would like to do this portrayal as respectfully and as well as I can!

Anyhow, thank you again and have a splendid day!

For those who’d like an English translation of the song used, here it is

———————————————————————————————————–

“Darling? What’s that song?” 

You turned around, your mind snapping back into reality. “What’re you talking about?”

“That song you’re singing. I’ve never heard it before.” 

You thought for a moment, realization hitting you.

“Oh! You mean Bésame Mucho?”

“Bésame Mucho…?”

The song had swept into the halls of your childhood home just as the memories had, the tune almost always pouring in throughout your days.

And your family adored it.

Your mother would always sway from side to side as she moved about, her lids closed gently, humming alongside it.

And sometimes, she’d bring you in.

“Come here Conejito come here!” She’d call to you, pulling you to her, your feet resting upon your own as she danced gently, spinning you about.

Other days both of your parents would come together in the main hall or in the kitchen as the song poured in, your mother’s head resting against his chest, the two of them serenading the other.

“Here,” You approached him, snatching out your phone. “I’ll play it for you.” 

In seconds the familiar sounds spilled into the penthouse, cascading against the walls and into your ears.

And it was warmly welcomed.

You took Jumin’s hand in your own, setting it to your waist, the other interlacing.

“My family would always dance to it.” 

He chuckled, rubbing a gentle thumb over your knuckles.

“I’d be delighted to as well.” 

You couldn’t help but beam at his words, feeling his feet begin to move along with the beat, guiding you.

And you sang along.

“Bésame, bésame mucho                                                                                 Como si fuera esta noche                                                                                     La última vez”

“Bésame, bésame mucho                                                                                   Que tengo miedo a perderte                                                                                 Perderte después”

You set your head in the crook of his neck, a deep breath escaping you, your shoulders dropping contently.

You noticed as Jumin looked down at you, affection drenching his gaze, a smile prominent on his face.

“Bésame, bésame mucho                                                                                 Como si fuera esta noche                                                                                     La última vez”

“Bésame, bésame mucho                                                                                   Que tengo miedo a perderte                                                                       Perderte después”

“You said this song was Bésame Mucho?” He questioned lightly, his lids lowering just a tad.

You nodded.

“And what does that mean?” 

“Kiss me much more.” 

He pressed his lips to your head, laughing softly. 

“I like it.” 

“Quiero tenerte muy cerca                                                                             Mirarme en tus ojos                                                                                           Verte junto a mi                                                                                                       Piensa que tal vez mañana                                                                                   Yo ya estaré lejos                                                                                               Muy lejos de ti”

“Bésame, bésame mucho                                                                                 Como si fuera esta noche                                                                                     La última vez”

The sunlight streamed in from the front window, pressing against your skin in what felt more like a embrace.

Everything somehow felt gentle.

But Jumin always had.

That had never been a question.

“Bésame, bésame mucho                                                                                   Que tengo miedo a perderte                                                                               Perderte después”

“Bésame, bésame mucho                                                                                   Que tengo miedo a perderte                                                                           Perderte después”

And as the song came to a close you felt your heart almost burst with joy from the reoccurring tune finding a spot back in your life.

And that you could share it with him.

And it would always stay.

For you would always stay.

You would always stay with him.

“Que tengo miedo a perderte                                                                       Perderte después”

[lgabrielaf]

This is something I was just meandering in my mind

When I am with you, I can be myself. I can sing with all emotion and all out of tune, but I know you will not judge me for it. I know I can share my deepest thoughts, my biggest fears and my biggest dreams. My memories, happy and not so happy ones. When I'm with you, I feel I have a friend. A real friend. A friend who you can't not find anywhere. You're the kind of person who I thought no longer existed. Those kind of people that matter and who know that they will be there for life. When I'm with you, I do not feel ashamed for crying in front of you, I do not feel ashamed for my stupid laugh, I do not feel ashamed for being ridiculous, I do not feel ashamed for being myself. And I'm so thankful. You are the person I needed in my life, and you appeared at the right time. At first, I thought it was not the right time to start to get to know each other, but I think it was the right time. The perfect moment. For both of us, or so I think. Maybe this is wrong, but I think it's the right moment. You know you can always count on me, for anything. I love spending time with you. I love to see you almost every day. And talk to you every day now. I love to know about your day, how you are. And that I can be honest with you. 100% honest. I love that we can always talk about anything. And seriously, you are a great person and an extraordinary friend Josuath. I love you so much. -LG ---- Cuando estoy con vos, puedo ser yo misma. Puedo cantar con toda emoción y toda desafinada, pero se que no me vas a juzgar por ello. Se que puedo compartir mis pensamientos más profundos, mis mayores miedos y mis mayores sueños. Mis recuerdos felices y no tan felices. Cuando estoy con vos, siento que tengo a una amiga. Una amiga de verdad. Una amiga que no se encuentra en cualquier lado. Sos una persona que uno piensa que ya no existen. De esas personas que importan y que sabes que van a estar ahí para toda la vida. Cuando estoy con vos, no me da pena llorar, no me da pena mi risa estupida, no me da pena hacer el ridículo, no me da pena se yo misma. Y te lo agradezco tanto. Sos la persona que necesitaba en mi vida, y apareciste justo en el momento indicado. Al principio pensé que no era el momento indicado para comenzarte a conocer, pero creo que fue el momento indicado. El momento perfecto. Para ambas, o al menos eso creo. Tal vez este en lo equivocado, pero eso creo. Sabes que siempre puedes contar conmigo, para cualquier cosa.Me encanta pasarla con vos. Me encanta verte casi todos los días. Y hablar con vos todos los días ahora. Me encanta saber de tu día, de cómo estás. Y que puedo ser honesta con vos. 100% honesta. Me encanta que siempre tenemos de que hablar. Y enserio, sos una gran persona y una extraordinaria amiga Josuath. Te quiero tanto. -LG