#why is every live action movie so dark and drab and mumbly

[dragonflavoredcake]

Things animated movies have that live-action movies don't

Color

Lighting

Comprehensible dialogue

[aiimaginesbts]

In Your Dreams

Hoseok x Reader [ft. Namjoon]

Genres: Angst and fluff

Word count: 3,924 words

Disclaimer/Copyright

You’re here again. In the all-consuming darkness, and honestly you’re not sure if your eyes are closed or if you are simply in a place where light does not exist.

You’d say there is an absence of not only light, but also heat – the chill from the surroundings threaten to seep into your bones and freeze your insides. However, this wouldn’t be true. There is a warmth that surrounds you, comforting, warming, reassuring you in the disorienting pitch-black space that is alien to you.

This warmth, like everything else here, is mysterious to you. You’re desperate to reach out and touch it, but you’re unable to move. The source is unknown to you, and it is baffling how you can feel the warmth while feeling and knowing that everything else around you is mind-numbingly cold. Like being in a warm bath in a bathroom in winter with no power – no light, no heating, the bathroom tiles chilling to the touch.

Again, panic starts to set in when your efforts to move, to do anything, really, are met with failure. Your brain is commanding you to scream and struggle but your muscles are simply not cooperating. You try and try but nothing happens. You want to cry in frustration yet the tears can’t seem to materialise either. Until you feel a force pulling you…

… and you wake up. Frowning, you lifted your arm to cover your eyes. The sunlight is muted by the blue curtains but it is still blinding after the total darkness that was your dream. Slowly, you adjusted to the reality where there is light shining though the windows and heat coming from the radiator, and you stumble into the bathroom to take a shower.

A while later, your roommate finds you at the dining table, a blank look upon your face as you cradle the cup of coffee that is slowly cooling in your hands.

“I’d say ‘good morning’, but I have a feeling that only applies to me,” she says teasingly.

Her words snap you into action, and you mumble “mmhmm” before sipping your drink. Mornings after that recurring dream always put you in a quiet, contemplative state, and your roommate knows you well enough to pick up on it.

“Did you have that dream again?” She asks with concern in her voice.

“Yeah.”

She pours herself a cup from the coffee pot and sits in the chair facing you. “You’ve been having the same dream for months. Maybe you should go see a doctor.”

“And tell the doctor what, that I have dreams when I sleep?” You scoffed. “It’s normal to have dreams. I don’t even have it every night.” You gulp down the rest of your drink and push your chair back to wash your cup.

You could tell that she wants to argue, so you quickly grabbed your backpack with a “See you later!” And head out to campus.

The day drags on, with you having trouble focusing on the lectures, the dream consuming your thoughts. At one point during the last lecture of the day you just stop taking notes, causing your friend to tap your shoulder to bring your focus back to the lecture.

“Are you okay?” Namjoon whispers, glancing at your less than half-filled notebook. You peek at his; he has filled it with small, neat handwriting and is about to turn the page to start on a new one.

“Damn, I totally spaced out.” You sigh as the lecturer dismisses the class. “Can I borrow your notes?”

Namjoon flashes you his trademark smile with dimples and hands his notebook. “Sure. If there’s anything you don’t understand, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Thanks.” I smile at him gratefully. “I’ll give this back tomorrow.”

He nods and the two of you leisurely walk out into the campus grounds, watching other students mill about, chatting amongst each other, hanging out or heading outside. You take a deep breath, trying to clear your mind after a long day of lectures and mostly, that disturbing dream. Namjoon walks beside you in comfortable silence, his long legs taking small steps to match your pace.

You shiver in the cold winter air. Namjoon immediately notices and laughs. “It has gotten cold lately hasn’t it? Wanna get a drink?”

Frankly you are not really in the companionable mood, even with Namjoon, who is one of your closest friends. However, you figure that a distraction from the dream may do you some good, so you agree and start to head towards your favourite cafe. Minutes later, Namjoon sits across the small table from you, both enjoying the heat given off by your hot drinks.

“So what’s up with you?” Namjoon asks without preamble. “It’s rare to see you so distracted.”

You consider telling him about your dream, then stop yourself. For some reason it feels too intimate to share with anyone. Even your roommate only found out after weeks of pestering. The dream is something that is precious to you, even though you don’t know why. Something that you want to hold close and keep to yourself. So you just smile at him and shrug.

“Just in one of those moods, I guess.”

From Namjoon’s panicked expression and quick change in the subject, you guess that he thinks that it’s something to do with the ‘time of the month’, but you do not bother to correct him. The next hour or so is spent just talking to him about this and that; you and Namjoon have a lot of interests in common and even though there are some things you disagree about, you always enjoy the banter and exchange of opinions.

The sun has just set and the night chill has started to set in when you leave the cafe. You walk with Namjoon for a little more before going your separate ways to your own apartments. Feeling more perky and cheerful than before, you forget that your roommate has the night off and is at home.

When you see her fixing dinner in the kitchen, you expect her to continue pestering you about your dream, but she doesn’t touch the subject all through dinner. It is only when you two are lounging on the couch watching 27 Dresses for the millionth time that she comments on it.

“You’re looking more alive.”

You simply nod and reach for more popcorn. You’re hoping that your lack of response will end the subject but you should have known that your roommate isn’t the type to stop until she says what she wants to say, especially during a movie that she can quote the lines to.

“I think you should try to find the root of this. I can see that it’s really affecting you, and I’m not sure that it’s a good thing.”

You sigh. “It’s not like I’m losing sleep over it,” you say. “It’s just a dream, I’m sure it’s nothing.” Even as the words come out of your mouth, you know it’s a lie. You can’t help feeling like the dream is significant; just thinking about it gives you the notion that this dream is trying to lead you to something very important, and you don’t want it to stop.

“Well, I hope that you don’t get it again.” You can’t reply to her statement without outright lying, so you keep quiet and this time she doesn’t pursue the topic.

And for a while after that you start thinking that her words may have become a reality, until the dream comes again about a week later.

It is the same dream again, yet it is very different from before. It’s like a numbing drug that has paralyzed your whole body before has worn off. All your senses that you have tried to use before, save for your sight, have been returned to you, sharp and acute. Your sense of touch tells you that although the freezing cold that has surrounded you before remains, the warmth is not simply a feeling without a source anymore.

You can touch it. The origin of the comforting warmth is the heat radiating from a person. You’re still deprived of sight but you can feel protective arms holding you close. The musky, pleasant smell of cologne and strong arms belonging to a man. You have instinctively wrapped your own arms around him in return, however, you are still unable to move. The inability to see his face is extremely frustrating.

Like every time you have had this dream, you try to struggle against the cruel restrictions set upon you, trying to get a glimpse of him, even though you have no idea if that is even possible, given that all you can see is still total darkness. Your attempts this time, surprisingly, are short-lived. His presence is so calming that it doesn’t take long for you to give in and just enjoy his embrace.

And for the first time, the thought runs through your mind: I never want to wake up.

However, it is a dream, and by its nature, you have to wake up from it. You groan, partly from getting used to being in reality again, but if you are honest with yourself, it is mostly due to the sense of loss. You belong in his arms. Then you catch yourself. This is a dream. You can’t lose yourself in it.

That morning you take more time to get ready for classes, trying to rid yourself of the silly notions that seem to be taking over you. Fortunately, by the time you leave your room, your roommate has gone, so you don’t have to try to pretend to be your normal self. You’re not even sure if you can.

You’re sure that Namjoon notices your silent demeanor, but he refuses to comment on it, giving you a chocolate bar instead. Laughter is hard to resist as it becomes apparent that he has no idea how a woman’s cycle works and it puts you in a more cheerful state.

It is a Friday night, and your roommate is psyched for a night out after a tiring week, but you’re not in the mood. You sit on the couch, resolute, as she tries to persuade you to join her and your friends for a round of drinks while getting ready herself.

“Are you serious? You want to spend the night alone in this drab apartment? Come on, let’s go out! Everyone will be there!” She plops onto the seat beside you. “Namjoon will be there.”

You ignore the nudge that she gives you, frowning. “So what? I see him all the time in campus.”

“Ugh, you’re so oblivious!” She throws her hands up in the air. “He obviously has a crush on you!”

“WHAT?!” This is definitely news to you.

She rolls her eyes at your ignorance. “Everyone knows about it. You’d be blind not to see it.”

You refuse to believe her, even for a second. “I won’t believe it unless he tells me himself.”

“Suit yourself,” she said as she stands up, apparently deciding that persuading you is a waste of time when she can use it to get some drinks in her. “But he’s head over heels for you.”

You shake her head at her in response. Not long after she leaves, you climb into bed. You’re not particularly sleepy, but you’re desperate to fall asleep and return to him.

You have no idea what you have done right, or what you have done to deserve this, but finally, finally, you are able to see. For what it’s worth, it isn’t a lot. Everything is still pitch-black, but it’s like a dim light shines upon you and him, and you are able to look up at the man who has been giving you warmth and reassurance in these haunting dreams throughout all these months.

The sight simply takes your breath away. You have never seen a more beautiful man in your life. Sharp jawline, delicate nose, inviting lips, and wide eyes staring back at you in wonderment. It is not unlike the expression that you’re sure is showing on your face, and you wonder if, like you, this is the first time he has set eyes upon the person he has been embracing all along.

For a few moments, both of you simply stare at each other. You’re desperately drinking in every aspect of him; his breathtaking face, his perfect height that allows you to gaze up at him without craning your neck too much and rest your head on his chest comfortably, his strong arms holding you securely against him, his intoxicating smell that calms your beating heart into a nearly comatose state of happiness. Yes. This is where you belong.

The dream does not let you go easily this time. You gasp as you bolt upright from your sleeping position, panting hard. Your heart actually hurts, and you cover your face with your hands, crying. You don’t know why the dream is affecting you this much, but you can’t help your feelings. Its grip on you is extremely strong and relentless, rendering you helpless to fight against it.

You don’t know how long you sat in bed shedding tears, but eventually you get up and walk into the living room lethargically. You’ve only sat on the couch for a couple of minutes, staring at the TV screen unseeingly when your roommate crash through the door, hopelessly drunk.

“Someone’s up early!” She chirps. A glance at the clock shows that it is in the early hours of the morning, and the sun is about to come up soon. In the edge of your consciousness, you hear her saying something, but you can’t seem to register the words so you remain silent.

“Hey, are you even listening?” She says indignantly, stepping around the coffee table to face you. It is then that she sees your tear-stained face, and she quickly sobers up somewhat.

“Honey, what’s wrong?” Her voice is laced with worry, yet still you can’t formulate an answer. She tries shaking you several times until you turn your head to look at her. Your voice cracks as you finally answer her. “The dream… there is a man. A man was holding me. He has been holding me all this time.”

She frowns as she tries to make sense of your words through her hazy alcohol-induced state. “A man? Who is he?”

“I don’t know,” you say quietly. “All I know is, he is the one. He’s my destiny.” You don’t know how you know this. You just do. Nothing has ever felt this right before. You have never been more sure of anything in your life.

Your roommate has always thought that you are taking this string of dreams way too seriously. You don’t blame her, because she doesn’t know how strongly you feel about this. If you put yourself in her shoes, you can understand why she is angry and frustrated with you.

“Don’t you realise that you’re being consumed by these dreams? They’re dreams, for goodness’ sake! They’re not real. You don’t even know if this man exists. Meanwhile, there is a perfectly nice, good-looking, smart guy who is so into you that it’s crazy. You can’t let these dreams stand in the way of a chance at real happiness!”

You’re not so deluded that you can’t see the logic in her argument. Everything that she’s saying makes perfect sense, yet you just can’t let this go. On the other hand, you don’t want to argue with her because you know that she can’t possibly understand how you feel so you just smile and nod at her.

“I should get some more sleep, maybe I’ll feel better in the morning.” You say to her in a placating tone. “You should get some sleep too.”

Hearing your agreement, her face crumples with relief and she lets you go, stumbling into her room. After her door clicks shut, you lay down on the couch, imagining the man, until you fall into a dreamless sleep.

~•~•~•~

You wake up several hours later. The intense feeling has not let up on bit, and you clutch at your chest. The ache is so strong that you wonder if it’s actually physical. Your roommate is still in her room, presumably sleeping off her hangover. You get up to shower and quietly leave the apartment.

The morning is still young, the park that you’re strolling through is mostly empty except for a few joggers on their morning run. You attempt to sort out your thoughts and feelings. Even though the dreams retain their blurry, mysterious, disorienting qualities, everything about the man is excruciatingly clear, so painfully sharp that it can’t be a figment of your imagination. You lose track of the time that you spend wandering around the park aimlessly, and even though the walk doesn’t lessen the certainty of your belief, it does calm your nerves by the time you arrive at the intersection near your apartment.

You’re so absorbed in your thoughts that you nearly miss him. The man in your dreams. He is walking briskly along the sidewalk across the street, his hands buried in the pockets of his sweater, exhaling puffs of breath in the cold winter air.

Your jaw drops and you feel as if your own breath has been knocked out by a ton of bricks. He is real. Despite your confidence, you can hardly believe that the man in your dreams is real, and is right in front of your eyes. Your legs urge you to move towards him, but your mind is sound enough to take heed of the red light and the cars moving in front of you. You want to call out to him, but you don’t even know what to call him. And even if you do, you’re too far away for him to hear.

By the time the light turns green, he has rounded the corner of the block and is out of sight. Your heart race as you run across the road towards his direction. Upon reaching the corner, you look around, desperately looking for the tall, lean man, but you have lost him. The walk back to your apartment after some time trying to find him is quick, all the time doing your best to blink back the tears forming in your eyes. Upon reaching the apartment, you lock yourself in your room and cry your eyes out for the remainder of the day.

It has been a month since you saw that man. A month since you last have that dream. Your roommate obviously doesn’t believe that you saw him, but she decides to humour you anyway and ease up on the idea of you dating Namjoon, at least for now. You know that she is mainly relieved that the dream has not visited you since that day, but you yourself are reeling from its absence.

Every day feels incomplete to you now, and you go through daily motions without much thought, barely functioning. You can tell that your friends, especially your roommate and Namjoon, are getting increasingly worried about you, so you try to stay as cheerful and upbeat as you can, even though everyone is aware of the façade.

Between the two of them, they manage to cajole you into joining them for karaoke. You can’t mope around forever, and you try to convince yourself, like you have been doing these past few weeks, that everything really is just your imagination. You are not successful, but you bundle up in warm clothes to go out anyway. There’s no harm in spending the night out with your friends. It might even lift your spirits, which has been in the dumps lately.

After about an hour of singing your lungs out, you step outside the crowded karaoke room for some fresh air. Spring is approaching, but it is still very cold. Inwardly cursing yourself for not bringing gloves, you turn and walk towards the convenience store to buy yourself a hot drink.

Suddenly, a hand grabs your wrist. Although it is gentle, the surprise makes you gasp and turn around to face… him. You feel your eyes growing into the size of saucers as you look upon the man from your dreams. He is looking at you in shock as well, even though he is the one who stopped you in your tracks.

A few seconds pass before he catches himself, clearing his throat. But his hand does not let go of your wrist. “Uhm… ” He hesitates, and you want to help him finish his sentence, but your heart is threatening to burst out of your chest and you can’t get any words out. He looks just as he does in your dreams. Actually, he looks even better, his features sharp and clear, lit by the street lamp right above you.

His grip on your wrist tightens somewhat as he attempted another explanation, “I’m sorry, I know you don’t know me, and I don’t know you either. You’ll probably think I’m crazy, but for months now I’ve been dreaming of you, and I just…” He growls in frustration as your breath hitches in excitement. “I’m really sorry, but I just have to do this.”

With that, he grabs you by the waist and pulls you into a tight hug. You breath gets knocked out of you by the impact, but your hands immediately wrap around his body, reveling in his warmth that is intensified by reality, grabbing his knit sweater and inhaling his scent deeply. If his embrace in your dream feels perfect, the real thing exceeds that by leaps and bounds. This is right.

“Oi, Hoseok! What the hell are you doing?!”

The man turns his head and you peek around his shoulder to see a group of guys you can only assume are his friends. “Go on without me! Tell Taehyung I’m sorry I can’t make it!” He shouted.

The pale boy who called out to him looks cross, but doesn’t argue. Hoseok doesn’t wait for them to leave before turning his attention back to you.

“Sorry about that,” he says. “Sorry about all this, really. I’m sure you must be mad at this stranger suddenly hugging you out of nowhere. I don’t know how to explain this, but I’m honestly not taking advantage of you or anything…” He trails off, at a loss of words, his hands around you starting to drop to his sides reluctantly.

But no words are needed. He has been having the same dreams you have. You’re not crazy. It is not a dream. It is not just your wishful thinking, or your imagination. This is real. You shake your head and dive back into his arms. His response is so quick that it has to be instinct, wrapping you in his tight embrace again.

You bury your head in his chest, tears falling, unbidden, wetting his clothes. But this time they are tears of happiness. “I’ve been dreaming about the same thing. I’ve missed you so much.” It is a strange thing to say to someone you just met, but you haven’t really just met. This man is real. This feeling is real. You just know that you belong in this man’s arms. Always. “You’re my destiny.” His hold around you tightens at your words, coming to the same realisation that you have had the same dreams, and feel the same way that he does.

“And you are mine.”