#grey skies rewind

[thesnivy123]

Forgot to mention- I've been writing a rain world fanfic! It's about Grey Wind leaving their superstructure and surviving in the world

[heyitschartic]

Please, post the speedrunner cluster 🙏

Yes!!! The Speedrunner cluster. Now this idea was originally for a story I was writing called Pine, a Ward AU where the triumvirate weren't created until Scion's rampage began and a different group of people took their place. A bunch of wild ideas sprung off from that, but one of my favorites was replacing the Speedrunners from Ward with a cluster cause I hate the Speedrunners but love the name. My friend Maya was CRUCIAL to this getting made.

The theme was originally a bunch of nerds working together but definitely moved away from that over time. The main ideas were a mover who can run fast and then expand that speed as a teleport, a tinker who makes large-scale alter time effects, and a master whose power summons shadow minions.

Mover's power is pretty straight forward, he moves faster, and he can turn that speed into a teleport based on how fast he's moving. Pretty simple for a simple guy. His secondary from the tinker turns into time manipulation devices with a quick but effective use. A sword that ages a hundred years after its swung. A gun with a charge up that stops what it hits like Clockblocker. Finally, his secondary from the master. Now, with all that stuff, the guy is gonna be an up close and personal sort of fighter, so his master power should play into that. The minions he summons come as 2-D shapes at first; tattoos on his skin, murals on walls, that sort of thing. They're invulnerable like that and can move around, but are able to jump out and strike in a way shadows normally can't. Bestial or mythos in theming.

The masters secondaries are pretty weak fighting-wise, so his primary is his main source of firepower. He opens a portal on an area, and these little shadow imps start forcing their way out, though only lasting a few seconds before turning to wisps. So, he could create a portal on someone's arm and have their little claws grab them around the throat or open a portal on the ceiling and have these things flood a room. His secondary from the mover is probably my favorite power of the bunch. A teleporter with nigh instantaneous teleportation, but only a few inches. It sort of allows for flight, but in our minds, he just was popping through the skies T-posing. His tinker power was focused more on restoration. A battle-vest with dials and pockets that can rewind time. Legs get blown off, press a button, and they're restored back to how they were. Bigger tinker tech at their base that can restore things through their life, like empty gas cans, cars, or themselves.

Finally, the Tinker. This is where we really leaned into the speedrunner thing. His power operates more on knowing and controlling an area than affecting one or two people. Temporal generators that work on slowing down or speeding up time in an area, a monument in range that causes things to loop till the batteries run out like Grey Boy. All the while, he can equip his guys with stuff that makes them immune to the effects. His mover power is pretty straightforward; a teleportation that let's them turn intangible and run through things with a cool down based on how long they were intangible. Their master power helps play into a lot of their strengths with regard to area denial. Etched markings or symbols on surfaces that cause hallucinations when viewed. Not doing much, but still harassing them. You see a lions mouth with wings for teeth, and suddenly, the shadows coalesce into roaring feathers that dance around, never leaving your vision.

Once the powers started coming together, they turned from this group of dorks committing petty crimes with synergistic powers into a bunch of taggers zooming through their targets, making fools of the guards, and leaving their mark before skating off. Sort of Jet Set Radio meets Games Done Quick. I love these guys. Really need to use them

[mochi-princess-04]

I’m on my Barbara Howard x Melissa Schemmenti high right now… so, saying that, the bridge from Freudian by Daniel Ceasar resonates with them… LIKE LETS LOOK AT THE MATERIAL

Send me kisses when it's grey skies

Its been so long, look how time flies

If you love me, won't you let me know?

I've been tryna learn to let you go

Call my name whenever tears fall

When you face your fears, you'll stand tall, ohh, whoa

Send me kisses when it's grey skies

(Can't you see?)

Its been so long, look how time flies

(I'm spending all)

If you love me, won't you let me know?

(This time)

I've been tryna learn to let you go

Call my name whenever tears fall

(Come with me)

When you face your fears, you'll stand tall, ohh, whoa

(I hope we can)

(Rewind)

And i say this b/c!!! Looking at the fanfics that have been created and made, a lot of them are usually revolving around forbidden love, broken love, lost time of love…. Like… we can have a discussion and break this shit down!! Cause the lyrics really hit home for these two😭

[itsrythm]

(Verse 1)

(C) Worn down road, same old turn

(G) Wind through the willows, a lesson I learned

(Am) This weathered stone, your name etched in grey

(C) Wish I could rewind, hear your laughter all day

(Chorus)

(C) Dad, I came to see you, (G) skies are turning blue

(Am) Just wanted to tell you, (C) I'm thinking of you

(Verse 2)

(C) Lay down some flowers, a splash of bright red

(G) Remember your stories, tucked safe in my head

(Am) You taught me to fish, you taught me to fly

(C) Now I'm standing here, with a tear in my eye

(Chorus)

(C) Dad, I came to see you, (G) skies are turning blue

(Am) Just wanted to tell you, (C) I'm missing you

(Bridge)

(Am) Silence all around, but I hear your voice say

(C) Don't you worry now, just go on your way

(Chorus)

(C) Dad, I came to see you, (G) skies are turning blue

(Am) Just wanted to tell you, (C) I'm loving you

(Outro)

(C) (G) (Am) I'll be back soon, Dad, 'til then, goodbye

[lauralot89]

Unnamed Ginger Cats of Live Action Films A-I

I’m compiling a database of every ginger cat in the media. See the master post for all forms of media here.

J-R and S-Z appear in their own posts because this post contained too many links for Tumblr. The cat from Breakfast at Tiffany’s is on the named list because I have too many unnamed film cats already.

If I am missing any ginger cats, please comment so it can be added to the list.

Yes, some of these cats are in black and white films. But they’re played by a cat named Orangey, so they’re on the list

A * indicates that a film has more than one unnamed orange cat.

Ace Ventura Jr.: Pet Detective

Age 13*

Alligator

Alvin and the Chimpmunks: The Squeakquel

Amadeus

American Maker

Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy

The Animal

Antonio Gaudi

Anywhere But Here

Around the World in 80 Days

Artists and Models

Batman Returns

The Battle of Billy's Pond

Be Kind Rewind

The Best of Everything

Bill & Ted's Bogus Journey

Black Mass

Black Moon

Blackway

Blade II*

Bohemian Rhapsody*

Boys on the Side

The Brothers Bloom

Buddy*

Bunny O'Hare

Castle Freak

Cat and Monkey*

Cat Show*

Catwoman*

The Cell

Children of a Lesser God

Children of Men

Clifford

Colette

Confessions of an Opium Eater

A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court

The Core

The Corpse Grinders I-III*

Crackers

Crossing Over

Dante's Peak

The Dark Half

Darkman III: Die Darkman Die

Dark Skies

Dear God

Deceived

The Defector

Deuces Wild

Drop Dead Fred

Elmer Gantry

Evan Almighty

Everybody Wants Some!!

Eye of the Beholder*

Fair Game

Fallen

Falling Like This

For Sama*

For the Love of Benji

Freebie and the Bean

Friday the 13th Part II

Funny People*

The Fury

The Gathering Storm

Geostorm

Gigot

The Goldwyn Follies*

The Good Neighbor

The Grand Seduction

Grey Gardens*

Guava Island

Gummo*

G****d in the Penthouse

Hamlet 2

The Hateful Eight

Heart and Souls*

Heartbreakers

A High Wind in Jamaica

Hook and Ladder

Hotel for Dogs

House of Women

How I Live Now

How to Be a Latin Lover*

How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days

Hustlers

The Internecine Project*

It's Showtime!

[hiddleschick]

Rewind

Some moments you're taken

to days past and gone

A time travel swift

as the sunbeams of dawn

The childlike wonder

when you were a kid

you went where you wanted

and loved what you did

A trip to McDonald's

or Rockport at Night

The drive past ALCOA

a French fry sword fight

The laughter, the tears

salty-hot in your eyes

The weight of the dappled

slate-grey coloured skies

The sharp, gnawing pain

deep inside of your chest

that suddenly fled

before morning's new crest

Fresh feelings,

so fervent, so pure every day

unbridled emotion

that blazed its own way

One video cassette tape

in slow-motion frames

A shutter-click slideshow

of juvenile games

They carved and defined you;

these moments you made

in soft, spanning silence

of tulip tree shade

Small hands laced together,

ten fingers entwined;

Remembering magic--

That's pressing "rewind."

- L.B.B.

[gretchenross2864212]

Rewind

Some moments you're taken

to days past and gone

A time travel swift

as the sunbeams of dawn

The childlike wonder

when you were a kid

you went where you wanted

and loved what you did

A trip to McDonald's

or Rockport at night

The drive past ALCOA

a French fry sword fight

The laughter, the tears

salty-hot in your eyes

The weight of the dappled

slate-grey coloured skies

The sharp, gnawing pain

deep inside of your chest

that suddenly fled

before morning's new crest

Fresh feelings

so fervent, so pure every day

unbridled emotion

that blazed its own way

One video cassette tape

in slow-motion frames

a shutter-click slideshow

of juvenile games

They carved and defined you;

these moments you made

in soft, spanning silence

of tulip tree shade

Small hands laced together

ten fingers entwined;

Remembering magic--

That's pressing "rewind."

- L.B.B.

[neo-shitty]

meet me where the flowers are — h.hj

excerpt. “ano daw la kun aadi la gihap? iba gud it kabutangan hiton akon kinabuhi.” (what if you were still here? things would’ve turned out differently.) — hain ka, bullet dumas 

pairings. hwang hyunjin x gn!reader

genre. hurt/comfort, angst

warnings. implied character death, mentions of death, references to the gwangju massacre of 1980.

word counts. 1.7k

notes. for those who have suffered in the hands of the cruel who took advantage of their power over others, we have not forgotten. | my entry for the 24/8 collab, inspired by the drama youth of may.

There is nothing but silence long after the call ends, deafeningly loud in the quiet of your office. And it’s suffocating.

Time slows and stretches, keeping you caged in the fraction of a moment during the call. The line was long dead, reduced to a monotonous beeping against your ear. The news didn’t shock you as much as you thought it would, less a source of peace of mind than a reminder of a weight once carried and now long forgotten. It wakes a dormant side of you, one you didn’t expect to remain asleep for so long, the part of you still tethered to your roots—to your hometown, Gwangju.

You’re out of your office the second it sinks, not necessarily in a rush but with a sense of urgency that won’t let you wait a day longer. You take the first train down seated by a window, watching time rewind outside the glass. The further you got, the lower the buildings and the further they were apart. Here, the fields stretched as far as the eye could see, cut by only train rails and uncemented paths winding through the greenery. The ride was long but it passed in a blink, sceneries growing more familiar the closer you got to the small town. 

It’s 3pm when you arrive at Gwangju and as if the whole town was encapsulated in a globe, shielded from the clutches of time, nothing much has changed. Springs in Gwangju are warmer than the ones in Seoul, the telltales of the upcoming summer already evident in the heat waves painting mirages on the streets. The town lacked the thick humidity of the city, its air free of grey smoke. There was no overcast sky, no smog looming overhead. Just a bright blue stretch with white wisps of clouds scattered and carried by the wind.

The view appears like a portrait mounted on the wall, the painting’s movement limited to the frames of the window pane. Its hues were vibrant against the dull browns of the room, your eyes naturally drawn to what was out there. The fields could be seen from here, green expanse topped with the warm yellow canola flowers that bloomed in May.

“_____?”

The hinges creak as the door swings open, the wooden floorboards groaning as the man crosses the room. His voice is unmistakable. It’s the same one that had been on the phone with you hours before, the bearer of the news you both dreaded and waited for these past few decades. 

The pain had numbed down long ago, memories long buried beneath newer ones. But the heart was a muscle and it remembers the way the rest of its system did. Mid-afternoons were once unplanned escapades to the canola fields and races down the in-betweens until your lungs couldn’t keep up. Other times they were hushed conversations in quiet libraries and playful nudges beneath wooden tables. Their focal point remained the same, the tall boy with a camera perpetually hanging over his neck like a necklace. The afternoons were the first to lose their meaning, your life switching back into your old routine after his disappearance. 

It was spring you’ve come to dread, having known him for the brief time of the year when the flowers were in full bloom. Spring passed and summer too, then the temperature cooled in fall until the inevitable frost of the winter made you wish time stopped there. And he’s forgettable throughout the other months, his memory tied to bright skies and open air, barely present in the rest of the year. But spring comes annually and for those months, reminders of him were scattered everywhere; in the flowers of the field, in the coolness of the breeze, in the warmth of the sun, and in the quiet of the afternoon. The vibrant season had long lost its color, forever tied to the ellipsis that haunted you for years—what if he made it back that day, would things turn out differently?

They found him today, alongside a few others in an excavation operation, nothing but sets of bones buried beneath rows of flower fields. Gwangju, determined to honor the memory of its own people, never stopped the search for its victims even now, decades after the event that smeared the small town’s history forever. 

“We found these buried along with him,” the man says, setting down ziplock bags on the table before you. “We've examined a few of the rolls and found photographs we could print and hang in the exhibit. But there is a roll we think you’d want to see.”

The Gwangju museum sat at the heart of the city. It was a bitter testament to a period of the town’s history repeatedly buried, preserving the memory of those who were never found nor searched for on its cream walls. Fragments of the past were caged in glass cubes, a commemoration for the brave souls who stood their ground against injustice even at the expense of their own lives. The museum stood as evidence of the downplayed catastrophe, those whose deaths were swept under the rug—buried along with those who were supposed to remember them. Missing posters covered the wall in a mosaic of names and faces. A few lived to tell the tale while others died fighting for what they believed in. Some of them found, others still missing.

Hwang Hyunjin’s disappearance was pivotal to the rebellion, the realization that the government was no longer trying to sniff out spies but trying to cover up the military’s abuse of power. You warned him long before that, but your pleas fell on deaf ears, his drive for freedom stronger than his need for safety. So he carried on, documenting both pieces of his life and fragments of history in the blinks of his camera. When you looked back on that afternoon, you remember the searing heat of the sun that was hotter than most days, the long wait for something that would never come. That day, he flew too close to it.

The projector flickered on the wall, pixelated figures appearing within the frame. There are spaces in between, images lost in time, but most of them remained. A warmth spreads across your cheeks, the sight of you from a younger time preserved in the shots that he’d taken. There’s a bluish tint to it but it still carried the warmth of those afternoons in the sun, the photos taken in chronological order in the months you spent together. You were the sole subject of every picture, the field of flowers fairing in comparison to the camera’s focus. You are there; under the shade of the tree on the hill you used to climb, across the table at the university library with your head bowed, looking out the window of his room wrapped in nothing but his sheets. You, in the eyes of Hwang Hyunjin.

Then finally, a photo centered around two figures, the cream walls in the photo blending into the room’s walls well enough it seemed that its subjects popped out of the image.

“We wanted to verify if the person in the photo is you?” the man asks, as if he hadn’t come to the conclusion long before but you give him a nod anyway. “And the guy beside you is Hwang Hyunjin?”

Even after all those years, your heart stutters at the mention of his name. You haven’t heard it in so long but it retained its familiarity, like the tides of time has left it untouched at the back pockets of your heart. In the photo, you sat next to one another, his arm lazily draped over the back of your seat. He smiled at the camera while you stared wide-eyed, regretting that you hadn’t smiled for the moment. But there were a lot of regrets whenever it came to him. A lot of time you wished you spent, countless letters you wished you kept, photos you wished you took, and the list goes on. Time wore down the memory of him, his face but a blur in your mind and his voice but an echo. But he is in the image beside you, definitive proof that he hadn’t been a figment of your imagination, that he existed beyond the entries of your journals from 40 years ago. 

The image flickers another time, the projector showing the final shot of the reel. This time, it is only Hyunjin with his head tilted and propped up by his arm. You remember taking it, the tremble of your fingers as you pressed down on the shutter. It captures the moment after he laughs at you, when he smiles after pointing out he could see you shaking from across the table. Turns out, the image didn’t end up shaky. You waited four decades to know that. 

The man takes your silence as an answer before he continues. “We’d like to exhibit this photo of him. The rest of his reels never captured him and the only other photo we had of him was the one on his missing person’s poster. Is that alright with you?”

You shake your head. “I don’t see any problem with that.”

“Would you like to keep a copy of these photos?” He checks the time on his watch, “If you’re heading back today, we’ll get it done as soon as we can.”

You reassure him that you have no qualms against waiting a little longer. He tells you that you were lucky enough. That had the military rummaged through Hyunjin’s things longer, you wouldn’t have been alive today. A simple circumstance, luck undisputed. But you weren’t thinking of that then, dying by his side being better than dealing with the grief and not knowing what had happened to him. You know now, and maybe you have known all along, but it was the discovery of his body that brings you peace—the quiet of a long drawn out disturbance in the back of your mind finally silenced. The long line of ellipses, spanning page after page for the past four decades, finally coming into an end today.

Across the table, Hyunjin looks like he’s looking straight at you. As if he was proud of where you’ve gotten now and he heard every whisper you muttered to him on nights you missed him most. If he was here, he would’ve marvelled at it, basking in the freedom he fought for endlessly. But he wasn’t. For now, he’s but a still image on the wall—disappearing as the projector was disconnected. A fragment of you once lost and only now found; a love long treasured and now let go.

© neo-shitty, 2022

[lesbianremu]

stranger things characters as evermore songs

mike: evermore

“grey november, i’ve been down since july.”

“i replay my footsteps on each stepping stone, trying to find the one where i went wrong.”

“writing letters, addressed to the fire.”

“and i couldn’t be sure. i had a feeling so peculiar...” 

“i rewind the tape, but all it does is pause on the very moment all was lost.”

“i’m on waves, out being tossed.”

“in the cracks of light, i dreamed of you. it was real enough to get me through.”

will: tolerate it

“i sit and watch you. i notice everything you do or don’t do.”

“use my best colours for your portrait... and watch you tolerate it.”

“i know my love should be celebrated, but you tolerate it.”

“i greet you with a battle hero’s welcome.”

“i take your indiscretions all in good fun.”

“while you were out building other worlds, where was i?”

“where’s that man who’d throw blankets over my barbed wire?”

“i made you my temple, my mural, my sky. now i’m begging for footnotes in the story of your life.”

“drawing hearts in the byline. always taking up too much space or time.”

el: marjorie

“never be so kind, you forget to be clever.”

“and if i didn’t know better, i’d think you were still around.”

“what died didn’t stay dead. you’re alive, you’re alive in my head.”

“never be so polite, you forget your power.”

“you loved the amber skies so much.”

“you’d always go past where our feet could touch.”

“should’ve kept every grocery store receipt, cause every scrap of you would be taken from me.”

“watched as you signed your name maxine.”

lucas: dorothea

“do you ever stop and think about me?”

“when we were younger down in the park, making a lark of the misery.”

“you got shiny friends since you left town. a tiny screen’s the only place i see you now.”

“and if you’re ever tired of being known for who you know, you know you’ll always know me.”

“when it was calmer, skipping the prom, just to piss off your mom.”

max: happiness

“i was dancing when the music stopped.”

“and in the disbelief, i can’t face reinvention. you haven’t met the new me yet.”

“there is happiness. past the blood and bruise. past the curses and cries.” 

“beyond the terror in the nightfall, haunted by the look in my eyes that would’ve loved you for a lifetime.”

“sorry i can’t see facts, through all of my fury.”

“they’ll be happiness after me, but there was happiness because of me.”

“i can’t make it go away by making you a villain.”

jonathan: willow

“the more you say, the less i know.”

“you cut through like a knife.”

“wherever you stray, i follow.”

“i guess i should’ve known from the look on your face.”

“they count me out time and time again.”

“you know that my train can take you home, everywhere else is hollow.”

nancy: cowboy like me

“you’re a bandit like me. eyes full of stars, hustling for the good life.”

“it could be love. we could be the way forward and i know i’ll pay for it.”

“and the skeletons in both our closets plotted hard to mess this up.”

“and the old men that i’ve swindled really did believe i was the one.”

“but that was all before i locked it down.”

“forever is the sweetest con.”

“i’ve had some tricks up my sleeve. takes one to know one, you’re a cowboy like me.”

robin: ivy (lesbian anthem for my fav gal <3)

“your touch brought forth an incandescent glow. tarnished but so grand.”

“my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand.”

“taking mine, but it’s been promised to another.”

“my house of stone, your ivy grows, and now i’m covered in you.”

“your opal eyes are all i wish to see.”

“he wants what’s only yours.”

“what would he do if he found us out?”

“crescent moon, coast is clear. spring breaks loose, but so does fear. he’s gonna burn this house to the ground.”

“i’d live and die for moments that we stole, on begged and borrowed time.”

“so tell me to run, or dare to sit and watch what will become, and drink my husband’s wine.”

“it’s a war, it’s the goddamn fight of my life and you started it.”

steve: tis the damn season

“there’s an ache in you, put there by the ache in me.”

“so we could call it even, you could call me babe for the weekend.”

“i’m staying at my parents house, and the road look taken looks real good now.”

“and it always leads to you in my hometown.”

“the school that used to be ours.”

“and wonder about the only soul who can tell which smiles i’m faking.”

“time flies, messy as the mud on your truck tires.”

“now i’m missing your smile, hear me out. we could just ride around.”

“sleep in half the day, just for old time’s sake.”

“i won’t ask you to wait, if you don’t ask me to stay.”

[perseusjackson-jasongrace]

Dumbass got stabbed III

I really thought I had finished with this two shot but after a request from @/booksrlife300 on ao3 asking for the aftermath I really couldn't resist making it a three shot. And my writing demon certainly agreed because it really went wild during my plane ride.

Anyway here is part three (and i think the final part) to dumbass got stabbed.

Recap (since it's been over a year):

Percy gets stabbed by a monster after coming back from the movies with his friends and the first place he goes to is Jason's house. Jason nearly has a heart attack after Percy collapses on his door and then he pulls him inside and stitches him all up.

This fic starts with Percy waking up the next morning.

[image has alt text]

Percy wakes up to searing pain. It spills across his skin like an upturned sowing box. He doesn't know where it's coming from because it feels like it's coming from everywhere. He can't even take stock of his body because he feels like one big pincushion. He supposes being stabbed makes him a pincushion.

He doesn't want to open his eyes. He can feel the light behind them. Too bright. Too loud. Too not how he feels.

He feels like deep darkness. Like the darkness just before a star explodes. The darkness before the sky erupts. The kind that blankets all of his senses except the one that pings danger. That's red and wailing at him. But then pain so untamed it turns his vision orange lances across his side and his eyes snap open with a low howl.

He can see white ceiling. He can see black dots. He hears scrambling, clothes rustling and something falling over. And then he can see blue eyes. And then he can see skies and oceans and glass bottles and concern like mothering hens staring down at him.

"Percy," His name is a growled gasp. Sleep still clinging to the strings of his friends voice box, scratching it's way down his throat.

"Hello, I'm in immense pain." Vaguely he notes that he sounds like an automated machine relaying it's faulty inner workings. That's half how he feels now that the burning-orange pain has lessened to a caution-yellow.

"Here," A golden hand, fingers wrapped in individual bandages, long and racing with green veins, holds out a square to him. It is small and unassuming. Nobody would guess it holds the food of gods. Then again nobody would guess those gods existed.

His mouth feels as though he's been eating his clothes for sustenance the last week. All heavy tongue, dry saliva glands, and teeth too smudgy to be healthy. He considers turning the square away for some toothpaste and a glass of water. But neither of those are going to magically cure the wound marking his side. So he opens his mouth, his jaw, and let's Jason drop the square onto his tongue. Warm fingers brush his lips as they pull back and he wants to chase the lightning-blue zing that they leave behind against his sarcastic mouth.

Instead he snaps himself shut and chews slowly. Only half interested in the cookies, then brownies, then soda— which he somehow knows is blue— disappears down his throat. He feels the magic working through his veins, skin stitching itself together. A headache he didn't know he had disappates.

With a long exhale he relaxes back against cotton cushions and finally takes a good look around the room. He has every detail of it already memorised, having spent many a day and night in this position bothering his friend endlessly. There's the singular shelf that houses old trinkets tattered and bruised from years of moving; the single arrow from Thalia's set— given in protection and as a reminder that she would always be there, for real this time; there's the gaudy new York taxi keyring he had given the blonde, now without the ring part, so of no real use; and the snow globe from Piper when she visited Paris. The soft yellow wall— lemon drizzle if you want to get specific— sits in perfect contrast to the charcoal grey of the rest of the room. It sort of embodies Jason's whole presence. The desk, well used and scattered with books and paper and Chinese takeout containers, sits in the corner opposite the bedroom, right near the window. He says if he can see the city he can breathe a little easier. He knows what he's working towards. Percy thinks it's so he can see the sky and know there's always a way to escape.

Him and Jason are good at that. Escaping. From bad situations, from big feelings, from each other. There's always something left unsaid between them. It drives their friends mad, but it's all they can do to stop from becoming hurricanes and devouring the entire universe.

"How are you feeling?" The blonde is sitting in his swivelly squeaky desk chair, leaning over him with all sense of care and concern. It makes him feel like duck egg blue.

"Much better thank you." He attempts a grin. He hopes it's not a grimace. "No matter how many times I get stabbed it doesn't seem to hrut any less."

Jason narrows his eyes, "I wonder why."

See that's what Percy likes. Everyone else is always giving him disapproving looks and worried scoldings when he says things like that but Jason? Jason indulges him, makes it feel not so suffocating to always be injured and bruised and relying on little squares of God-food to get him through the month.

"How do I look?" This time it's definitely a grin. He can feel the green of his eyes go emerald with amusement.

"Very pretty as always." The reply is solemn, but there's a twitch of pink lips and it's all he can do to not reach over and touch it.

"Want to tell me what happened?" A frown replaces the amusement and he wants to rewind the last few seconds again and again. "You were a little...out of it when you showed up."

"Yes I suppose getting attacked by a monster makes all the smart chemicals in my brain go a little foamy."

"You don't know what attacked you?"

And he is pinned to the bed, to the room, to the world. Because nobody can read the words behind his words the way Jason can. Can read the emotion behind his pauses and the expressions behind his masks. He is neon purple.

"It was dark." He resigns himself to the story. When he's done, laid all the boring details bare, he studies the floors.

The silence stretches around them, cocooning them into something too delicate to touch. It feels almost awkward, or it would if he knew anything about that when he was here. Instead it's just quiet.

"Can you stand? You need a shower."

"Oof Jase," He puts a hand to his chest, hurt painted like clown's make up falling across his face. "I can't look that bad."

There's a precious smirk, full of quick whips kicking up in his friend. "It's the way you smell actually."

He takes an exaggerated whiff and nearly gags. "I smell like I'm decaying." He shudders.

A laugh bursts from the blonde and Percy doesn't want to move in case the music ends. He feels candy floss pink in that moment.

"Right up you get. I'll sort out breakfast and then you can entertain me for the day."

"You don't have to take care of me." He rolls his eyes, sitting up with a hidden wince. His feet settle on the floor. He's grateful neither of them acknowledge that he came here in a haze. That Jason did take care of him. That when his mind was nothing but blinding pain this was the first place his legs took him.

"I'm not taking care of you. I'm using you for entertainment."

What his friend doesn't realise is that Percy can read all his hidden scripture just as well. How "entertain me" means I'm keeping an eye on you. How "mind helping me with this" means I can do it just fine by myself but I want company. How winks mean "it's a joke between us" but smirks mean "it's honesty but gently". It warms his heart to know he can do this. It's a sunshine yellow thing to know someone the way they know each other.

"You good?" Jason stops at the door when he still hasn't moved from the bed.

"Yes just preparing to haul my very large body into your very small shower." He feels the eye roll more than see it. It tugs a smile onto his face.

"I'll remind you that I'm an even larger body and I make it work."

"How on earth do you ever have shower—"

"Percy Jackson!" He is snapped into a laugh.

And then he's in the bathroom and his mouth is full of mint bubbles and although there are circles as deep purple as squished plums under his eyes they shine with contentness. He doesn't fear or worry. Not here. At home, in his mother's house, he's the protector from monsters only he can decimate. At camp he is the protector from monsters that are determined to destroy. But here. He is just Percy. And his protector is cooking pancakes in the kitchen. He is just Percy. And he is sage green as he steps into the steam of the shower.

He looks down, catching the fading wound on his abdomen. His brown skin let's droplets of water rest briefly before rippling and they go racing down to the tiled floor. He stands there for a good minute just staring blankly. But then he hears the sound of a kettle whistling and it jolts him into action as he scrubs the grime and gross of yet another something trying to kill him, off his body.

By the time he's done— sweats and a loose tee rummaged from Jason's closet draping over his too hot skin— the pancakes are neatly stacked on two plates and fresh steaming coffee sits to the right of their food. He feels honey brown.

"Looks delicious."

"I know the way to your heart." The blonde shrugs.

"It's more of a journey than most bargain for." He laughs quietly.

"Dont worry I've brought my hacksaw and my hiking boots I'm willing to run through Amazonian forests."

"Well that's relieving," He grins around his mug. "I was beginning to think I'd be stranded in my stone tower forever."

"All alone?"

He snorts, "No I've made friends with all manner of being. I can't be alone, you know that." He bites into his pancake, blueberry slipping off his fork with a thudding splash into the syrup.

"I do know." The blonde's voice is all buttery and melting. And the truth that comes with it knocks a new vein into Percy's heart.

They're quiet for a few minutes as they devour their breakfast. When there's mere sips of coffee left he settles back in his chair and regards his friend.

"What manner of entertainment am I providing today?"

"Whatever you want but I'm not leaving the house."

"Oh good I don't know if I can make it ten steps out your door without half crumbling to dust these days."

"You wouldn't."

"Mhmm," He hums distractedly, gaging the weather to decide if they're going to huddle up with movies and far too many blankets or throw playing cards at each other while drowning in lemonade. It's a movie sort of day, he decides.

"You wouldn't turn to dust." Jason is saying. "You're too much god and too much good to die like monsters." There is that silent reading again.

"Maybe I was." Percy shrugs, "Before you know..."

And he doesn't need to add anymore because the big space the catches onto that sentence no matter how much time separates those events from the now still means the same thing. Before Tartarus. Before he made a ventriloquist puppet out of a goddess. Before he became unhinged.

"You are not a monster for protecting yourself. Or others." Golden voice is firm. Solid.

"You may be the only one who knows and thinks that."

"Doesn't matter it's still true."

"Okay enough seriousness." He doesn't have the energy for their circling conversation. "Shall we binge Pirates of the Caribbean?" For a stormy grey second he thinks his friend is going to keep their talk going but then he sees the surrender behind the blue eyes and a part of him unwinds.

"We can." There's a raised eyebrow accompanying the agreement and he knows there's conditions attached. Like a damn insurance plan. "If your promise to let me walk you home this evening."

"My big bad wolf." He teases.

The blonde responds with a low growl that makes his whole body turn a violent azure blue. "Fine. We shall stare at Captain Jack Sparrow and then you can valiantly walk me to my front door and shake hands with my mother."

"Wonderful. Now let's get some blankets down."

Jason smiles as he stretches on his tiptoes to reach the fluffy ones. He feels the soft material under his palm but the there's a hand over his brown one and it's tugging the blanket down. He sticks his tongue out at his friend.

Percy is ocean blue.

[mxmentos]

my favourite lyrics from evermore !

guess who's having an evermore phase

today, im going to be listing all of my favourite lyrics from evermore down below! why? because i need an excuse to use the computer for stuff other than studying 😇

tw: cuss words

let me know your favourite songs off of evermore in the comments!

' im like the water when your ship rolled in that night, rough on the surface but you cut through like a knife. ' - willow

' one for the money, two for the show, i was never ready so i let you go. ' - champagne problems

' she would have made such a lovely bride, what a shame she's fucked in the head. ' - champagne problems

' she'll patch your tapestry that i shred. ' - champagne problems

' i don't like slow motion, double vision in a rose blush. ' - gold rush

' i don't like that falling feels like flying until the bone crush. ' - gold rush

' with your hair falling into place like dominos. ' - gold rush

' you can call me babe for the weekend. ' - 'tis the damn season

' the road not taken looks real good now, and it always leads to you in my hometown. ' - 'tis the damn season

' i made you my temple, my mural, my sky. now im begging for footnotes in the story of your life. ' - tolerate it

' where's that man who'd throw blankets over my barbed wire? ' - tolerate it

' good thing my daddy made me get a boating license when I was fifteen. ' - no body, no crime

' when did all our lessons start to look like weapons pointed at my deepest hurt? ' - happiness

' but now my eyes leak acid rain on the pillow where you used to lay your head, after giving you the best i had, tell me what to give after that. ' - happiness

' are you still the same soul I met under the bleachers? ' - dorothea

' the stars in your eyes shined brighter in tupelo. ' - dorothea

' did i paint your blue skies the darkest grey? ' - coney island

' my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand ' - ivy

' id meet you where the spirit meets the bones. ' - ivy

' your touch brought forth an incandescent glow, tarnished but so grand. ' - ivy

' and the skeletons in our closets plotted hard to fuck this up. ' - cowboy like me

' fatefully, i tried to pick my battles 'til the battles picked me. ' - long story short

' long story short, i survived. ' - long story short

' my waves meet your shore, ever and evermore. ' - long story short

' should've kept every grocery store receipt, 'cause every scrap of you would be taken from me. ' - marjorie

' you'd always go past where our feet could touch. ' - marjorie

' im fine with my spite and my tears, and my beers and my candles. ' - closure

' it cut deep to know ya, right to the bone. ' - closure

' i replay my footsteps on each stepping stone, trying to find the one where i went wrong. ' - evermore

' i rewind thе tape, but all it does is pause. ' - evermore

alright, that's it from me! to the people who've made it till here, thank you so much for reading <33

[yeontanismypresident]

truth untold | jikook

a/n: uh hey guys i know this isn't what i normally post, but i did a roleplay with a friend (they're so talented holy fuck i'm in love bro) and decided to post it on here since it's already on ao3! they wrote for jimin and i wrote for jungkook. so, come cry with us and watch jikook be all lovey dovey after their rainy day fight hehe <33 thanks for being an amazing rp partner @eglantinian​ and s/o to my baby @minloop​ for making this awesome header love you bb <3

pairing: park jimin x jeon jungkook

word count: 11.1k (yikes good luck)

genre: angst, fluff, smut, idolverse

warning(s): unprotected sex (pls be safe babies), finger sucking/fucking (yes, it's a warning bc fuck i love it 🥵), oral sex, fingering, the authors falling in love, Feelings™, okay i think that’s it ghfjd

summary: I love you, I love you, I love you, and I didn't want to be forgiven. That's the hardest part. I looked at you, and I didn't want to be forgiven. Because loving you is not a sin.

But that's it.

I love you, Jimin. In spite of everything.

Park Jimin doesn't trust words.

Pretty ridiculous, given how much he loves being affirmed by it, but there's such a thing as "loving compliments'' but not allowing yourself to be deceived by it. There's also the fact that he's got a vendetta... against some words and how someone says it. Not to mention, words are highly fluid, able to empower or destroy when choreographed into perfection. Just like the twists and turns of chaînés or the smooth glide of a moonwalk. An emotion in motion rehearsed a-plenty with the intent to electrify.

To dazzle, to revive, to thunder people's spiritless lives.

Words.

That's it.

That's why he remains a stoic sceptic, pining and fawning over words, but never also completely trusting them until he's sure that the person speaking them does not intend to deceive him. It's very exhausting, but it's a struggle he puts up with in order to protect himself from getting hurt.

Honey, it is one of the sweetest things in the world, but only because they were a product of the labour of a thousand bees. Because while others may think he just readily wears his heart on his sleeve when he's acting like a mochi, they don't realise that it took years to get to the level of confidence he has today. Persistent and consistent labour, that's what it took to make himself appear effortless, not birth lottery.

Not ever.

Which was why he kept rewinding Jungkook's speech, nay, confession, in his head over and over again when they argued in the practice studio. He's practically memorised every word, the heartache and the love in the maknae's voice ringing clearly through the space between them. Jimin's stupid mind even etched in his memories the way Jungkook's brows furrowed in frustration when he shouted at him to "do what you want."

Or the way the tears fell from Jungkook's eyes when he slammed the door to his face, intent on leaving him there in the studio. Jimin wanted some time to himself while walking to their dorm — it was only 20 minutes away, anyway — because he doesn't trust himself alone with Jungkook. He'll end up ruffling Jungkook's dark hair before tugging it back so that he could tilt his head to face him and lose himself in the depths of his dark, dark gaze.

The sweetest eyes in the world, he'd once thought to himself when he first met the maknae. It was just. Just looking at him then, he already knew it was over for him. Jeon Jungkook wasn't just some band member of BTS to him. Neither was he just some cute boy that he can't help feeling fond of. Nor a younger brother he'd dote on endlessly. No, not at all. Once he looked at Jungkook and got to know him throughout the years, Jimin just knew.

One way or another, their lives will always be intertwined.

Serendipity.

He didn't expect it. And yet here he was, falling in love with him. Can't get him out of his head. Can't get him to be affectionate with him even as a joke. Can't get him to stop pushing him away in front of the camera. But still. Still, he kept trying because Jungkook....

Just now, his eyes, his voice... none of it ever held any intent to deceive him.

Not at all.

It's just that today, Jungkook really had to tell him everything he's wanted to hear from him. And while Jimin knew that Jungkook's words carried weight, he just couldn't help doubting it.

Especially when Jungkook's hands kept fidgeting.

And that's the thing — Jimin suddenly felt that he might be uncertain. That maybe he said those words sincerely, but why was he still being unsure? Like damn it, it's not like he was never afraid every time he made himself look like a fool whenever Jungkook kept dismissing him or denying his affection.

It drove him a little crazy.

But still, even now as he's walking outside and ignoring his phone — it's been vibrating ever since he left the studio, and truthfully, his legs feel a little numb already, but he left that place with his head held high, so if anyone's going to do the chasing, it won't be him, not again — Jungkook's words were a chorus he can't help himself from repeating over and over again.

It's just that I've never felt this much for anyone before. 

I don't know how to take it. One day, you were there, and I felt like nothing made sense until I met you. I love you, I love you, I love you, and I didn't want to be forgiven. That's the hardest part. I looked at you, and I didn't want to be forgiven. Because loving you is not a sin. Why does it have to be, just because people are uncomfortable? Why does it have to be, just because you're a man and I'm a man? Why does it have to be, just because I got afraid? I just kept overthinking everything, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry I hurt you.

But I've been in love with you. Still do.

Fuck. I just said it all. But that's it. I love you, Jimin.

In spite of everything.

And then he just had to look afraid. It's not as if he's the only one.

He sighed, closing his eyes only to blink them open when a drop of rain fell on his cheeks.

His lips curled bitterly. He didn't need to cry at all.

The skies will do it for him.

How lucky.

Jungkook stands in the middle of the practice room, all alone with only cold silence surrounding him. There are silent tears falling from his eyes and gliding down his blushing cheeks. Where did everything go wrong? He was sure he saw the signs right. Sure, he had pushed Jimin away when he was just trying to show his affection, but what else was he supposed to do? What was he supposed to do when they had thousands of eyes on them, just waiting for one of them to make a mistake? It could have cost them their career. No matter how much he loves Jimin, he can’t won’t ruin the rest of the group’s careers.

He can’t help but feel embarrassed and hurt. How was he ever going to face Jimin after this? Would his Hyung make fun of him? Would he hate him? Avoid him? Jungkook really put his heart out there, did the one thing that has terrified him for years and he’s...shut down? Rejected? Was he wrong to assume Jimin had feelings for him too? Is this what heartbreak feels like? Like his heart was ripped out of his chest and stomped on a hundred times? Like someone tore it into a million pieces all the while laughing at him for being so idiotic? How long will he have to deal with this aching, sharp pain in his chest? Until he can get over Jimin? Will he ever get over him?

His head snaps to the opening door so fast there’s a loud pop throughout the room. Wincing, Jungkook rubs the back of his neck, praying that behind it is Jimin coming back to clear things up, to confess it was all just some sick joke he was playing on him. But it’s not him, and Jungkook doesn’t know how he should feel when he comes face to face with the confused one of Taehyung. He probably looks like a right mess with tears leaving a wet trail on his blotchy cheeks and falling off his chin, eyes bloodshot from how hard he’s crying.

“Jungkook-ah?” Taehyung hesitantly asked, slowly making his way towards the maknae, “Are you okay? What happened?” He places a comforting hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, the warm and kind gesture causing him to break even more.

Jungkook gasps for air. He can’t breathe and everything fucking hurts. What does he do? Should he call Jimin? Make sure he got home safe, or should he give him some space? The sound of thunder shakes him from his panicking, and he walks to the window to see dark clouds rolling in. Fuck. It’s about to rain and Jimin is walking back to the dorm. He’s going to get soaking wet and then he’s going to get sick. Jungkook is sure he’ll hate him even more if he does end up ill.

With his mind made up, he frantically grabs his phone. Opening up Jimin’s contact, he hits the call button, silently begging the other to answer. When he’s met with Jimin’s voicemail, he leaves a desperate message, telling him to call him back. He does this multiple times, each time feeling more and more hopeless.

Please pick up, Hyung.

Everywhere was grey.

The sky, previously golden touched with lilac at dawn, is ashen. The streets, once dazzling silver pavements in the moonlight, have returned to its original shape, a dull concrete in the day unlike the vision in his daydreams — mocking his stony reflection in the muddy puddles that have formed beneath his shoes as rain continued to fall quickly, wetting his cheeks. Jimin wanted to laugh, but the sound is trapped in his throat as his phone kept ringing in the background. It was supposed to be quiet. Yet even in this grey afternoon, his fingers couldn't help inching towards the source of the sound — a half-hearted wish to silence the chaos that was his heart.

Jimin took a deep breath, trying to gather himself. Well, more of trying to remember why he exploded in disbelief despite knowing the truth in Jungkook's words. It's just that after he made the decision to not be as affectionate to the maknae, that's when he suddenly tried to get close to him. It's like someone dropped a bucket of cold water on him, paralysing him. It made him feel like an afterthought — Jungkook's warmth towards him had come too late, the abrupt 180 of his efforts giving him a whiplash that when Jungkook finally said those words, he just saw red.

He ran a hand through his hair. He had overreacted.

Jimin is usually able to separate his emotions from his thoughts easily, enabling him to focus and see things clearly for what they were. It just so happened that everything about Jungkook affected him greatly, his control slipping every time their eyes met. Almost every time, that is. The thing is, Jimin had always prided himself with his willpower and resolve, but in that argument... he didn't care. He just lost it.

It's just that... when he saw Jungkook hesitate, he also got uncertain. Afraid. And Jimin hated being unsure, hated losing control, hated the bitter after-taste of regret.

And yet, leaving Jungkook in the studio, it was all he felt.

Regret.

He bit his lip, no longer stopping the tears from falling.

I was wrong, he thought, averting his gaze from the puddle beneath his shoes once he realised he had halted on his way to the apartment — the pause feeling like a thread was trying to pull him back, stopping him.

I was wrong, he repeated, breaking down as he took the phone from his pocket, the ringing never stopping.

Never hesitating.

Never afraid.

Not anymore.

Jimin wiped his cheeks, resting a hand on his face as he answered the call with a quiver in his voice.

"What is it?" he asked, trying to sound firm, but all he heard was the way he sounded so broken.

And all it took to keep him afloat was Jungkook's voice.

Jungkook is still muttering helplessly to himself, feet pounding against the wet pavement as he tries to find Jimin. He doesn’t know where the other is and there’s panic clutching at his heart and everything is just a gigantic mess. Did Jimin head towards the dorm? Or did he decide to go on a walk somewhere else? Somewhere Jungkook wouldn’t know about? Turning towards the opposite direction of their dorm, Jungkook sets a brisk pace, phone still to his ear as he waits for Jimin to answer his phone.

The rain is pouring now and Jungkook can hardly see what’s in front of him. There’s hardly anyone out, so no one can see the way he’s breaking down in the middle of the sidewalk. So caught up in his thoughts, he doesn’t notice that the constant ringing has stopped. Only when he hears Jimin’s broken voice coming through the phone does he react.

“Jimin, I am so sorry,” Jungkook sobs, feet frozen as he tries to stay standing. He refuses to break down even more when he's out in public.

All he wants to do is fall, fall into the older’s arms. To feel his comforting arms wrapped around him in a warm embrace. But would Jimin still want to hug him after this? Did he freak his Hyung out too much by confessing? Hurt him too much? Did he push him away for good? Jimin’s voice breaks his disheartening thoughts.

His throat tightened.

Jungkook was crying. Because of him. Fuck. Jimin's tears suddenly halted, his frustration towards himself rising — not realising that he was squeezing the phone unconsciously until his nails dug red half moons on his skin. He took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair as he listened to the maknae's shaky breaths through the phone.

“I told you not to call me,” Jimin still tried to resist, his control slipping away yet again. Except… except he’s starting not to mind it once again.

Only for Jungkook. Only him.

Because loving you is not a sin, Jungkook's words filled his thoughts once again, breaking through every wall, every monument of fear he thought he built perfectly in spite of his trembling hands — afraid of anyone discovering his deepest fears, afraid of letting anyone in, afraid of no one trying at all.

I love you, Jimin. In spite of everything.  

He raised his eyes to the sky.

The rain ceased, and once again, the horizon burst with colours.

His lips trembled.

"W-where...," Jimin spoke more softly this time, hoping it would soothe Jungkook a little, hoping he'd understand, hoping he'd keep trying, "where are you?"

I want to see you.

“I told you not to call me.”

Jungkook feels as if the breath was stolen right from his lungs. He thought the older wouldn’t want him to call, but he was hoping he was wrong. He has no clue how he should respond to that. I’m so sorry, Hyung. Please, just tell me where you are. I promise to leave you alone, just let me know you’re safe.

“Hyung…” Jungkook whispers and he’s not sure whether or not Jimin can hear him. He’s afraid to speak up. He’s afraid his voice will crack and that he’ll appear even more pathetic than he already does.

He wants to give up.

If Jimin’s made it clear that he doesn’t feel the same, then why should he continue fighting for it? Why fight for something that isn't even there?

Jungkook glances up when he doesn’t feel the harsh, cold rain pelting on his skin anymore. It’s stopped raining and the clouds are slowly dispersing, leaving behind a blue sky with a vibrant rainbow. The sun is shining down on him, warming his shaking body, and his body releases its tension.

"Where are you?”

Where is he?

Jungkook looks around at the scenery surrounding him. He’s… where is he? He can feel the panic returning, tightening his chest and lungs until it feels like someone is stomping on his chest. His eyes are frantically moving around, trying to find something familiar, something that will tell him where he is. Where is he?

“I don’t know where I am!” Jungkook sobs, fingers shaking as he clutches his phone to his ear. Jimin’s voice slowly calming him down, grounding him to reality once again.

"Jungkook-ssi," he murmurs over and over again, hearing the panic in the maknae's voice. He almost burst into laughter, the shock of Jungkook's bewildered reply making his heart flutter despite his concern. But that would just set Jungkook off to even more panic, so he swallowed it, willing his mien to follow so that he wouldn’t laugh.

Fuck, he loves this boy so much.

"Jungkook-ssi, take a deep breath," Jimin said more firmly, trying to capture Jungkook's attention. He needed to focus, and as much as Jimin wanted to see him, they won't be able to do that if Jungkook can't calm down.

He looked around him — he's just a few blocks away from the dorm now, and it should be easy to pinpoint his location, but given the maknae's tendency to lose himself in the height of panic, he might as well be the one to go to where he was.

"Just — don't move. Stay where you are. I'll come get you," Jimin offered, trying to get a hold on the situation. When someone is panicking, you can't ground them with softness. You need to be assertive — turn off their impulsive urge to jump off the cliff with cool, solid, and sound facts.

Basically, logic the fear away.

It's just that Jungkook disagreed, his voice breaking, trying to fight against himself, anyway. A taxi, he said, tumbling over his words, the desperation making Jimin curl his lips in fondness, I'll take a taxi. Or I don't know. Run. I'll run to you. But no, a taxi. A taxi would be best, I guess, I really don't know where I am.  

At last, Jimin lets out a chuckle.

"Jungkook," he whispers, his tone the softest it’s ever been, dropping the honorific, knowing that the maknae will realise what he meant.

He heard the shudder in Jungkook’s voice, the sound of his name from his lips stilling the maknae.

“Jungkook,” he repeated, his tone firmer, but nonetheless just as soft as he uttered it a few moments ago, “I’ll stay.”

He looked at the sky again, lips curling at the rainbow.

“I’ll wait for you,” he says, voice low and husky — a sound he only uses for Jungkook.

I miss you.

“I’ll wait for you.”

Jungkook’s mind is reeling.

Jimin will wait for him?

Does that mean….

He doesn’t waste any time trying to figure out what that means. He needs to get to Jimin as soon as possible.

As much as he wants to run to Jimin, run to him until he’s in his arms, he decides to take a taxi. If he ran then it would take him at most 20, maybe 30 minutes depending on if he got lost again. A taxi would get him to Jimin in around ten minutes. But would it be more meaningful if he ran to him? After all, who doesn’t want someone to run after them? Show them how much you’re willing to do for them?

“Don’t hang up,” Jungkook whispers, “Please don’t hang up, Jimin-Hyung.”

He wants Jimin to stay on the phone with him. Stay on the line and just talk to him, help him not have a panic attack again. He just wants to hear the voice of the man he’s in love with. Always wants to hear his sweet, warm voice. With Jimin’s reassurance, Jungkook’s shoulders slump and he waves a taxi down. Throughout the drive Jungkook holds his cell phone tightly, breathing gently as Jimin’s voice echoes through the speaker. The ride goes by quickly and before he knows it he’s rushing out of the taxi, throwing some money to the driver, and finally running towards Jimin.

He stops just a few feet away from Jimin, admiring the way the sun shines on him, casting a soft glow and making him look like a beautiful angel. Jungkook wants Jimin to be his angel.

His voice is timid, quiet among the growing crowd of people, “Hyung… ”

"Hyung...," Jungkook breathed, his lips trembling before him as they stared at each other across the street.

Jimin could only eye him with his heart in his throat, his cheeks flaming, his mind pensive and out of control all at once. He curled his fingers, restraining himself from simply bolting towards Jungkook — much like what the maknae was doing when he halted — their dark gazes holding onto each other's — everything missing from their previous conversation spilling in the silent moment between them, the truth untold about to break free.

He shivered — not in a bad way, but an uncomfortable sort of shiver tinged with the pleasure and bashfulness that emanated from having your feelings reciprocated way — at the twinkle in Jungkook's eyes, shining with the hint of previous tears. Jimin mentally cursed at himself for making Jungkook cry earlier, but he pushed it down for the meantime because his heart won't stop pounding as the maknae's lips started to curl the longer they stared at each other.

Ah, Jimin is so far gone in the world of Jungkook land, and he doesn't even feel one whit of guilt, just plain pleasure — pure, unadulterated happiness filling his every being, making him feel like he's floating as he returned the maknae's tender smile.

Slowly, Jimin pressed forward, step by step — feeling calmer as the thunder of his heart calmed down each step he got nearer to Jungkook. And once they were face to face, almost a breath away from each other, Jimin couldn't help it anymore. He just broke down, tears falling from his cheeks — he rubbed them away with the pads of his hands, shaking his head at Jungkook who tried to do it himself, but he can't let him do that — Jimin had to do it for himself so that Jungkook would know that he wasn't alone and that he wasn't the only one who cried.

Once he calmed down, he eyed Jungkook once more, just taking in the way his dark eyes softened towards him.

That's it, Jimin thought, biting his lips in total surrender — he engulfed the maknae in his arms tightly, like a slam dunk hug, the kind that he wanted to shout at the rooftops, screaming, this is the man I'm in love with, and he loves me, oh my god, he loves me back!  

Jimin sniffed as Jungkook's hands encircled his waist, so he leaned back just in time to catch the wide, bright, completely enamoured grin that the maknae was giving him. It was enough to weaken Jimin's legs a little, but thankfully, the maknae was holding him tightly. He took a deep breath, resting his forehead on Jungkook's before holding his face in his hands. He brushed his thumbs over Jungkook's cheeks, feeling the slight wetness from his previous tears.

Oh, my love, Jimin could only think, caressing Jungkook's face slowly, just feeling him and soothing him. Then he wrapped his arms around Jungkook's neck, pressing himself closer as much as possible — a silent way of asking forgiveness for how much he hurt Jungkook earlier.

He took a deep breath, resting his chin on top of Jungkook's shoulder before he lowered his head to the maknae's ear. Jimin bit his lower lip to stop himself from crying all over again just before he murmured, "Just... just let me love you, Jungkook."

And when Jungkook nodded against him, he hid his face in the crook of Jungkook's neck, letting the tears fall anyway.

After a while, Jimin let go of Jungkook, wiping his face as he gripped the bottom of the maknae's shirt.

"Let's go home, then?" Jimin asked, hiding his face for the meantime, willing his mien to cool while he searched for a taxi. They need to be alone now, but given how a crowd was forming around them, here isn't the best place to be — no matter how much they wore black hoodies to help hide their identities — two men hugging each other while crying is still an oddity in South Korea, no matter how much the country claimed they were progressive.

Jungkook understood quickly, though, only humming in agreement as his eyes scanned the streets before ducking his face a little when he saw some girls staring too intently.

"Let's go," Jimin repeated with a slight grin, and when Jungkook's hands travelled to his wrist so that they don't get separated in the street, his lips curled even more.

Once they get home, he's so going to kiss Jungkook until he's breathless.

Until Jungkook can only utter and remember one thing: him.

Jungkook’s grip on Jimin’s wrist is tight, his other hand clutching at the back of Jimin’s shirt, trying not to lose him in the crowd surrounding them. He can feel the eyes of many people on him, probably wondering why he’s so close to another man. But, he doesn’t care. All he cares about is getting back to their dorm so he can cuddle with Jimin. He just wants to be held by the older man, feel his arms embracing him. He’s always said that Jimin was the best person in BTS to give hugs (he promises he’s not being biased).

Once they’re in the taxi, Jungkook glances at the driver, making sure he’s not looking before he grabs Jimin’s hand, intertwining their fingers and giving a gentle squeeze. He’s staring out the window, trying and failing to hide the grin spreading across his face. His heart pounds frantically in his chest as Jimin squeezes his hand back. That has to be a good sign. There’s a rosy blush going from his cheeks down to his neck. God, he’s so in love with Jimin it hurts.

Does this mean Jimin loves him as well?

Jungkook hopes and wishes on every shooting star out there that he returns his feelings.

Why else would he tell you he’d wait for you?

Maybe because he’s your Hyung and would be responsible if something happened to you.

The maknae shakes his head, getting rid of those self-deprecating thoughts. He wouldn’t think like that. Refused to.

He’s just about to fall asleep, exhausted from the events that happened earlier. His head is resting against the window, but Jimin’s soft voice fills his ears, causing him to sluggishly lift it. With tired, half-lidded eyes, Jungkook watches Jimin pay the taxi driver. Before he knows it, his Hyung is gently helping him out of the car and leading him into the building. Inside the elevator, safe from any prying stares, Jungkook leans on Jimin and wraps his arms around his smaller body.

“Hyungie, I love you,” he mutters, half-awake and unaware of the words he’s uttering, or the reactions from the older. He’s still filled with so much guilt for hurting the man he’s in love with, “‘m so sorry for making you uncomfortable. I didn’ mean to.”

The rest of the ride up to their dorm is full of Jungkook spewing apology after apology with a few “I love you’s” added into the mix.

Warm.

Jungkook was so warm.

Jimin was trying to control himself, ignoring how his reflection on the elevator betrayed him with his flushed cheeks when the maknae's hands wrapped around his waist. If that wasn't enough, Jungkook just had to rest his cheek on top of his shoulder, basically embracing Jimin everywhere, though he guessed that the maknae was clueless over how much it greatly affected him.

If only that was all.

If only.

But no, Jungkook had to murmur "I'm sorry's" and "I love you's" near his ear. His ear. Was it possible to be this jealous of an organ that was attached to his body? Seriously, Jungkook's lips kept brushing against it every time he whispered, voice a little shaky from tears, but hot damn was it so low enough to make Park Jimin's eyes flutter close and moan a little.

He bit his lip, cursing how slow this damn elevator was, delaying his chance to thoroughly kiss Jeon Jungkook he'd stop crying — so he pressed on the number of their floor with an impatient grunt while his other hand traced comforting half-moons on Jungkook's arms. He wasn't about to be cock-blocked by a fucking levitating metal box, thank you.

Finally, they reached their floor with a ping that Jimin felt was mocking, but that was just his anxiety talking because he really, really wants to hold the maknae in his arms — surrounded by fluffy padding and soft blankets to park their bums to. Like, c'mon, they deserve it after that gruelling dance rehearsal for No More Dream, all right?

Once the doors opened, he ruffled Jungkook’s hair to wake him, but the maknae groaned his disagreement, so Jimin laughed before kissing his cheek.

That snapped Jungkook to attention, his form straightening against Jimin’s back before allowing himself to be pulled towards their apartment. Jimin bit his lip again — Jungkook’s response to him amused and turned him on at the same time, BUT they needed to sort things out in a safe space, so he casually scanned the apartment for any open cameras. Unfortunately, there were a lot, so Jimin kept walking towards their room, gripping the bottom of Jungkook’s shirt so he wouldn’t lose him.

He mentally sighed in relief when he found that the staff were merciful enough to leave the cameras in the bedroom off for the meantime. They must have turned it off since the rest of the members were out, but that was damn more than enough. Shit was exhausting.

Once he locked the door, he pivoted to check on the maknae, who already plopped himself on the bed with pillows while waiting for him. The sight made his lips curl fondly — Jungkook’s wavy hair was all messy from the practice and hysteria earlier, so it made the weary gaze he gave Jimin looked cuter.

He bit his lip again, his cheeks heating for the nth time when his eyes met Jungkook’s — a silent plea he interpreted as please, come be warm with me again.

Ah hell, he’s gone off to Jungkook land once again when there’s a whole Jungkook that was begging to be kissed in front of him.

He shook his head, willing himself away from the trance as he laid down beside Jungkook on the bed and laid his forehead on top of the maknae’s before closing his eyes for a bit — just taking him in, feeling the tenderness seep in between them.

When it felt right — Jimin didn't know how he knew, but he just knew when Jungkook reached out for his hand and laced their fingers between them — fine, he bloody knew because he was waiting for a sign that it was okay from the maknae, okay? — Jimin opened his eyes and held Jungkook’s gaze in place, eyes never straying anywhere else when he pressed his lips on top of Jungkook’s fingers.

The gesture drew a shaky breath from the maknae, and it curled his lips. If this was how Jungkook reacted with a simple peck on his hands, what more glorious sounds would he hear when he kisses him on the mouth?

Jimin drew closer to the maknae, rubbing his nose on Jungkook’s cheeks affectionately before lowering his voice when his lips were just a brush away from Jungkook’s lips.

“May I kiss you?” he whispered even when there was no one else in the room besides them.

The question made the maknae’s brows furrow, as if to say, Why do you still need to ask, Hyungie?  

Jimin smirked, cupping Jungkook’s face in his hands. “If we’re gonna do this,” he explained, caressing the maknae’s brow, “I want to know you’re okay with it. I don’t want it to be like before when it wasn’t clear, so I’m asking.”

When Jungkook nodded and looked at him expectantly, Jimin laughed a little, shaking his head. “No, I’m not asking just to kiss you. I’m asking because in case you didn’t hear what I said earlier properly, what I’m asking your permission for is…”

Jimin took a deep breath, playing with the ends of Jungkook’s dark hair on his forehead. He looked down for a bit, gathering the courage to repeat what he said earlier. Ah, why was something so precious and previously hidden in his heart that he managed to blurt out earlier so hard to say again? Was it because he felt braver in front of other people? That’s not fair to the both of them — not when it mattered more to let the truth be heard when it was just the two of them.

He almost couldn’t say it again, but Jungkook breathed his name without honorifics, and that was it. That was it. Jimin raised his eyes and held onto Jungkook’s warm gaze.

“Just let me…,” Jimin said shakily, tearing up a little, the words making him feel like he’s handing his heart to Jungkook — which he was, okay, it’s just. Ugh. Feelings. He took another deep breath. “Let me love you, Jungkook. I love you.”

“I love you,” he repeated, posing his mouth over Jungkook’s.

“In spite of everything,” he repeated the maknae’s words, lips crashing over Jungkook’s as his eyes closed with a flutter, his heart singing, the truth finally free.

He heard Jungkook gasp against his mouth when he deepened the kiss, his fingers carding through the waves of his dark hair.

Oh, my love, Jimin can only think again, breathing Jungkook in, lips yearning and burning, their hands slowly, tenderly reaching to pull each other close because space didn’t belong in the dictionary if it meant that all the years of pining wasn’t all for nothing.

Because right here, right now, with Jungkook’s lips tenderly caressing his in return, Jimin is finally free.

Jungkook’s breathing is shaky with each loving action Jimin performs. His fingers tingle where plump lips brush, and his cheeks heat up as Jimin’s button nose lightly rubs against it. He listens intently, wanting to hear everything the other has to say. He had the chance to pour out his heart earlier and now it’s Jimin’s turn. There’s a slight pang in his chest, his heart hurting at the insecure expression on the older man’s face. He knows it’s not easy to discuss feelings, god, does he know. So, he’s going to give his Hyung all the time he needs. This time, he’ll be patient, he’ll bite his tongue and refrain from interrupting.

His eyes flutter as Jimin’s fingers run through his hair. It’s calming and he can feel his tense muscles relaxing with each passing second. He wishes he could pause time. All he wants is to stay here in Jimin’s arms, being held in such a comforting way, away from the public eye, and away from everyone that will try and keep them apart. Opening his eyes, he notices his frustrated expression. Lifting a hand, he caresses Jimin’s cheek, thumb rubbing against the soft flesh.

“Jimin.”

It’s all Jungkook can whisper before Jimin’s lips are being planted on his own and his eyes are slipping shut. He shakily gasps into the kiss, lips moving rhythmically against the older’s.

It’s soft. So soft.

It has Jungkook feeling dizzy.

Has him feeling light. Like he’s floating on cloud nine.

It’s all he’s wanted, more than anything he’s wanted in his life, but he still wants more. He wants to feel Jimin’s body flush against his. He has the strong desire to tangle his fingers in Jimin’s hair. Tangle his legs with his best friend’s. So he does just that. He slides closer, one hand coming to rest on the back of Jimin’s neck, the other carding through his hair, fingers gently grabbing a fistful of locks. He angles his head to the right, following Jimin’s lead. His heart is beating so fast he’s afraid it’s going to jump right out of his chest, and when Jimin curls his hand against his chest, he hopes he can’t feel the fast pace. Hopes he can’t hear how hard it’s pounding.

Jungkook sighs, leaning forward to press Jimin against the bed, arms caging him in, both hands now running through his tresses. He rests between his best friend’s open legs, unconsciously grinding down when his thighs wrap around his waist and moaning at the sweet, delicious friction. Jungkook teasingly bites at Jimin’s bottom lip, tongue slipping inside when Jimin gasps. Breaking the kiss, Jungkook’s gaze zeros in on the thin string of spit connecting their kiss-swollen lips. His eyes trail all over the older man’s flushed face before gazing into Jimin’s eyes.

“I love you so much, Jimin.”

"I love you so much, Jimin," Jungkook's voice was full of tenderness that it made him choke up again, tearing up a little.

Such a sweet sound from an angel.

Ah..., he fell in love all over again. He doesn't even need to worry whether Jungkook will misinterpret his silence since he knew for sure that the way he was staring at the maknae was enough — he couldn't even look at anything else except him.

Jimin took a deep breath, appreciating the way Jungkook's lips were parted a little, his lower lip shining from the kiss they just shared. He could feel his cheeks heating up again, especially when Jungkook pressed himself between his legs, his weight sending a delicious shiver throughout his body. He bit his lip, raising his hips a little, just to see how the maknae would react.

A loud moan fell from Jungkook's lips, and it made him feel emboldened, tugging at the maknae's hair near his nape before he pressed an open-mouthed kiss on Jungkook's. The maknae shuddered, his fingers curling on the bottom of Jimin's shirt. Jimin bit on the maknae's bottom lip, making Jungkook roll his hips against him again.

The gesture made Jimin smirk, a mischievous plan forming in his mind when he saw how much Jungkook's eyes kept saying, I want more, Hyungie.

Jimin flipped them over, not losing one moment to sit just before the tip of Jungkook's bulge.

Slowly, he unzipped Jungkook's hoodie with his teeth, making sure to maintain eye contact until he reached the bottom with a loud smack of his lips. The gesture made Jungkook gasp audibly, the tent of his arousal swelling further as Jimin lifted the bottom of his shirt and caressed his abdominal muscles, dragging his nails a little before drawing little half-moons all over the maknae's stomach. Jimin smirked every time Jungkook could only utter his name with soft and frustrated sighs, his desire all too apparent for Jimin to see that he can't help leaving open-mouthed kisses too.

When he reached Jungkook's neck, he made sure to press his full lips on the spot — the soft pressure causing the maknae to cant below him with an alluring shiver, another moan falling from his lips as he stared at Jimin with half-lidded eyes, the swirls of his pupils growing darker when their eyes met.

"I love you, Jungkook," Jimin said softly, pressing a chaste kiss on the maknae's lips before dragging his lips on the younger's collar bones — punctuating every kiss with a small bite, another silent way he hoped Jungkook would understand to be —

I want to be with you for a long time, if you'll let me, so please, please, please be with me. Be with me, my angel, and I will give you all the best of me. I love you so much my heart glows when I'm with you, so please, let me love you.  

Fuck, he's tearing up again, so he blinked the tears away, caressing Jungkook's face once he finished worshipping the maknae's sculpted body just so he remembers that heaven is not a place, that home is not place, that love is not a place — that nothing matters, that everything is useless, that life is pointless if he can't be with him.

So please, let this be right.

Let him make things right.

Just for once.

Just for him.

"I love you," he swears it's the only refrain he can utter with his heart feeling like it'll unfurl wings anytime it's directed towards Jungkook. So he repeats it again, kissing Jungkook deeply once more, feeling their hearts pound at the same time as he laid on top of the maknae.

He could keep kissing Jungkook's soft lips forever, but he needs to breathe too, plus there was the really pressing situation down there — their arousal swelling against each other's, so he tugged at the maknae's waves when they paused their kisses, not yet opening his eyes as he rested his forehead on Jungkook's.

He just. Fuck.

It's, like, his mind has gone off to Jungkook land and wants to stay there forever with him because he kept falling in love with the maknae the more they kissed and pressed their bodies against each other. Just... just how much would he fall even more once their bodies united in one sweet rhapsody?

He took a deep breath.

Slowly, Jimin opened his eyes, gazing directly at Jungkook. He rubbed his nose against the maknae's cheeks again as he lowered his voice with a request.

"May I touch you now?" he murmured, his hands poised over the buckle of Jungkook's belt.

I really want to hold you.

Jungkook can’t stop gazing at Jimin with wide eyes as he pulls the zipper down with just his teeth. It was one of the hottest things he’s ever seen and he knows it’s going to be ingrained in the back of his mind forever. A gasp slips past his trembling lips, feeling his dick twitch as Jimin’s warm palms slide against his taut stomach. Nails dig into his tan skin and he hopes, god, he hopes they leave marks for him to stare at later when he’s all alone. So he can gently trace over them and feel the slight sting reminding him of who left them there.

“Hyungie,” Jungkook moans, eyes growing dark as Jimin places a soft, open-mouthed kiss on his neck. He wants him to leave pretty, red marks. He wants to have Jimin’s claim all over him. He needs everyone to know that they’re in love and don’t care about the opinions of others.

His heart skips a beat at Jimin’s words. I love you, Jungkook. This doesn’t feel real. How is it that there is a literal angel above him, peppering fond pecks on every visible inch of his skin? How is it that this man, this wonderful man, loves him? It all feels like a dream to him. A dream he never wants to wake up from. He wants to live in this moment for all of eternity.

”May I touch you now?”

Well, if Jungkook wasn’t fucked before, then he definitely is now. Who knew Jimin asking for his consent would be this sexy? He can feel his cock throbbing at the idea of finally being touched by Jimin. He’s dreamed of this ever since he discovered he was in love with the man and finally being able to experience it has him feeling so many emotions. Love. Excitement. Arousal. This was really happening, he was really going to be able to show Jimin how much he’s wanted this.

Licking his lips, he whispers against Jimin’s lips, “Please. Please touch me, Hyung.”

"Oh, is that so?" Jimin can't help tease, fiddling with the buckle of Jungkook's belt, flicking it open and close, casually dragging his nails over the bulge of the maknae's arousal, his smirk widening when Jungkook bit his lips in frustration — his pretty cheeks visibly flushed from all the foreplay.

He draws closer to the maknae, leaving soft pecks over Jungkook's cheeks until his lips met the maknae's ear. Breath hot and swirling with desire, Jimin licked his ear and bit it gently. "Tell me, then, my love," he murmured against Jungkook's lips, biting the maknae's lower lip when he said my love. "Tell me. I need words."

Jungkook let out a cry, suddenly placing his hands on Jimin's hips, grinding against him. Jimin chuckled a little before swatting it away, taking Jungkook's hands gently and holding it on top of the maknae's head. Jimin clucked his tongue, shaking his head at the maknae playfully. "You have to listen to your hyung, Jungkookie."

The maknae grunted, grinding against him again, but when Jimin didn't budge, Jungkook tried to caress Jimin's hands on top of him, thinking maybe being gentle was the way to go about it, but no, no, no. The moment Jungkook pressed himself between Jimin's legs, gentle was for kisses and their belated love confessions, not making love.

Tender was it.

Tender can be the red and the blue blossoms that mark their bodies when their nails and their teeth roughly drag over each other's skin, when their bodies cant towards each other's as they scream their names to oblivion, when their bodies shiver in the aftermath of the previously undelivered truth finally kissing the sun.

At least, this is what Jimin thinks, tracing Jungkook's lips with a finger, whispering, "Your mouth, my love, open it for me, please."

Jungkook's lips fell apart, eliciting a low growl from within Jimin's abdomen, the maknae's compliance turning him on so fucking much. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Jungkook's dark eyes were so, so dark that Jimin can't help biting his lower lip again.

Takes two to tango, after all, he thinks with a smirk, sinking a finger into Jungkook's open mouth, pressing the pad of his finger on the maknae's tongue before inserting another and pumping it rhythmically — his mind so gone that only the sensation of Jungkook receiving his fingers into his mouth without question kept him moving — that it was his idea to do this, that it was the taste of Jungkook's spit wrapping around his fingers, that it was all real, not a daydream he concocted each time he and Jungkook danced way too close for comfort on stage because every moment with Jungkook was just that electric.

Fuck, he thinks again, taking a deep breath as Jungkook stared at him like he wanted to eat him.

Jimin shivered as he drew his fingers away from the maknae's mouth — the moment all too real and too hot to the touch.

Fuck, he thinks again, his hold on Jungkook's hands above his head loosening, his pulse rising, his mind falling into another dimension of oblivion as the maknae growled and flipped their positions again, leaving Jimin to fall on the bed with a soft plop as Jungkook aggressively kissed him over and over again as they rolled their hips against each other in unison.

He bit Jungkook's lower lip, tugging the maknae's zipper open and dragging the maknae's cock out, pumping it quickly between them as their lips crashed on each other's, never letting go. When Jungkook gasped against his mouth, Jimin squeezed his cock again, enjoying it swell in his hands as they kissed each other again and again — the concept of time and space confining and expanding to several infinities with every caress.

Oh my love, Jimin could only think, tearing up again, even as he can't help smiling against Jungkook's lips when he laced their free hands together.

The universe has moved for us, and I'm so happy that you love me too.

My love.

The pet name has Jungkook tearing up. That’s the only thing he wants in this cruel, twisted world. To be Jimin’s love. The thought of being the only one for Jimin makes him want to cry, to sob out how much he loves him and how much he would do for him. How he would go to the ends of the Earth for him. How he would run a thousand miles just to reach his hyung whenever he needed him. He doesn’t want to cry because of this. Only when Jimin finally breaks him down in the most pleasurable ways does he want to cry. So instead he grips his hyung’s hips and grinds up against him, his dick getting the much needed friction he’s been craving. He can’t stop the gasp that falls from his trembling lips. Who knew he would have a hyung kink?

Jungkook whines, lips parting and tongue sticking out. The need to please his hyung makes the action come easily to him. He needs to be a good boy for his Jimin-Hyung. The strong desire to make Jimin proud builds inside him. He doesn’t want to make him regret this. Jungkook gazes into Jimin’s eyes, his eyes pleading with him, pleading him to do something.

Hyungie.

The moment Jimin adds another finger and thrusts them in and out of his mouth he’s a goner. His lips wrap around the digits, tongue licking in between them, and his eyes flutter shut as he suckles on them. There’s drool leaking from the corners of his mouth and Jungkook’s body is feeling hot, hot, hot. Everything about this moment was perfect to him. The way Jimin held his wrists in a bruising grip to prevent him from breaking free. The way Jimin felt on top of him, controlling the situation and playing Jungkook like a puppet. Jungkook opens his eyes, staring at Jimin with half-lidded eyes when the fingers are removed. He focuses on the string of saliva connecting his kiss-swollen lips and Jimin’s wet digits. Everything was perfect.

Jungkook notices Jimin’s hold on his wrists slowly loosening and starts to count, eyes still locked with Jimin’s, unadulterated lust in his gaze.

One…

Two…

Three…!

Once he hits three, Jungkook is flipping them over with a low growl. His lips smash against Jimin’s, passionately placing kiss after kiss on his mouth, hips grinding down to give them both friction. Jungkook breathlessly gasps, cock throbbing in Jimin’s hand. He cants his hips up, moaning as his cock slides in and out of Jimin’s grasp. Eyes shut, mouth parting, he frantically reaches for Jimin’s unoccupied hand and locks their fingers together.

Don’t let go, hyung, please don’t let go. Just hold me.

Love me.

Oh my love, I am made anew with you.  

This is what Jimin thinks, removing Jungkook's clothes with trembling fingers as the maknae pressed his naked arousal against the tent in his pants. Fuck, he's just so damn good, he shivers with so much want and need, and everything else could just fade away, he is utterly, completely, irrevocably a goner for one Jeon Jungkook.

He holds onto Jungkook's shoulder before reversing their positions once again, his every being filled with just one intent — loving every inch of Jeon Jungkook for all the universe.

And so he does, taking his top off, reveling in the way Jungkook seemingly marked his skin like a painting, his dark gaze tracing through every inch of his body as he wet his lips like he desperately wanted to dazzle his abdomen and his chest with every languid roll of his tongue.

Just like that, Jimin feels every dream of his come true.

His mind is gone, gone, gone, it's all just Jungkook — his euphoria.

"My love," he breathes again, eyeing the maknae through the curl of his lashes as they slowly removed each other's pants, their fingers caressing each other's all throughout, never wanting to be apart even for a second, never wanting to be uncertain once again, never wanting to lose each other again.

Once they were fully bare in front of each other, Jimin took a deep breath, taking in the sight of Jungkook laid out before him.

Could he still sleep again? Could he still dream again? Could he still close his eyes again?

Would all that still matter when right here, right now were beyond his wildest dreams?

He's tearing up again, his heart so full yet so light with the way Jungkook stared at him with so much love.

"I love you so much," Jimin falls, resting his forehead on Jungkook's, before kissing the maknae's brows. "So much," he kissed Jungkook's eyelids when it closed, "my heart glows," another kiss on his nose before caressing the maknae's face just so he could kiss him fully and deeply on the mouth, "when I'm with you."

His tears fell freely when Jungkook's hands found its way on his back, tracing comforting swirls, every shape a reciprocation of Jimin's love for him. So he kisses the maknae's tears away when he tasted the salt of his tears afterwards. And just. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

The stars are in the sky, and they are flying, their hearts soaring to the vibrant horizon.

This isn't a dream, Jimin breathes, kissing the maknae's taut stomach until he reaches Jungkook's cock. So he grinds his bare arousal against it, the delicious shiver in their bodies just syncing as they both moaned aloud. Jungkook reaches for his hands, lacing their fingers together, not wanting to let go.

Jimin drew another shaky breath before sliding down a little, only a little at least just before the swell of Jungkook's dick, so that he could prepare to take all of it in his aching mouth. He wants it all — the bad and the good, the worst and the best, everything that is just Jungkook.

Just him. That would be enough.

And so he takes Jungkook's cock in his mouth, running his tongue along the length inside his mouth just to hear the maknae growl in pent up desire — let it all out, my love, Jimin thinks, eyes closing as he savours the feeling of Jungkook's alluring shivers with his ministrations. He dragged his teeth a little, testing to see whether Jungkook liked it or not, and was rewarded with a chorus of fuck, I'm so in love with you's, so he smirked and bobbed his head on his cock again and again until Jungkook tugged at his hair in frustration just to say I want you, Jimin, I want you, I want you, I want you.

His eyes darkened with pleasure when he opened his eyes and met Jungkook's gaze, the desire so fucking contagious he could just swim in the depths of those eyes forever, no kidding. So when Jungkook rolled his hips, grinding against his mouth, Jimin let him fuck his throat raw to oblivion.

Jimin let out a loud gasp once Jungkook came in his mouth, swallowing all his cum before fingering and licking all the salty remnants on his full lips. Jungkook was still trembling beneath him, so Jimin caressed his face and his hair, soothing him as much as he could.

"We did the annual physical just last month," Jimin muttered, languidly caressing Jungkook's parted legs before him, "and we're both clean, right?"

Jungkook could only nod, his eyes still closed from the aftermath. Unconsciously, he opened his legs more when Jimin's hands drew nearer his cock again. Jimin bit his lips when he saw how Jungkook's cock swelled up again, his arousal just so big and so full and begging to be loved again.

"Perfect," Jimin murmurs with a low growl, posturing his fingers right before the entrance of Jungkook's perfect ass. He took a deep breath, and eyed Jungkook so he'd do the same before he slid one finger in to let the maknae get used to his touch. When a moan fell from Jungkook's lips, he slid his finger further before inserting another, widening the opening a little more and pumping it, trying to loosen the tightness in Jungkook's ass.

When he slid the third finger in, Jungkook grabbed his shoulder, his voice shaky as he drew a breath and bit his lips. Jimin, Jimin, Jimin, was all the maknae could utter so Jimin pumped all three fingers further, settling within the maknae's ass deliciously.

"I want to hold you now," Jimin whispers, his forehead resting on Jungkook's as he posed his own cock in front of the maknae's ass. "So just... just let me love you, Jungkook."

And when Jungkook replied with, Love me, Jimin, love me. Because I love you, too —

Jimin forgot to breathe.

He slid his cock slowly, deeply within Jungkook's ass, his mind empty, his heart full.

The world is so different from yesterday, and now we're becoming a we.

Jimin tears up again, their bodies colliding in that sweet, sweet rhapsody.  

We love each other, oh my god, we love each other.

I'm so happy.

Jungkook's hips jump, his dick twitching. Fuck. The feeling of Jimin's teeth lightly scraping his cock followed by his hot tongue has him wanting more, more, more. He wants Jimin to hurt him in just the right way until he's begging him to stop. He throws his head back against the pillow, hands reaching down to pull Jimin's hair, mouthing falling open only to repeat a mantra of Jimin's name over and over.

The maknae lets out a cry, grinding into Jimin's mouth as his best friend swallows around his thick length. His hands are tugging and tugging at Jimin's hair, tears blurring his vision before slowly cascading down his flushed cheeks. He fucks Jimin's face in deep, steady thrusts, and when he glances down, he can see Jimin's throat bulge where his cock is repeatedly sliding in and out. It pushes him over the edge fast. His back arches and he screams as his orgasm hits him hard. Jimin, Jimin, hyungie.

Jungkook's mind goes blank and he's letting out a loud moan at the feeling of Jimin pushing one finger inside of him. It feels amazing. It feels so much better than when he does it. Especially when he adds two more fingers inside him, scissoring them to prepare him for Jimin's cock. It's such an addicting feeling that he never wants this to end.

Before he knows it, Jimin is leaning over him, sweaty forehead against sweaty forehead.

So just... just let me love you, Jungkook.

Jungkook frantically nods, hands wrapping around the older's neck, holding onto him tightly, “Love me, Jimin, love me. Because I love you, too—”

He cuts himself off with a loud, breathless gasp because Jimin is finally, finally, pushing into him. He's connecting them in the most intimate way and it has him tearing up because goddamnit he's so in love and they're finally one. He lays there with his eyes closed and sighs over and over, just taking in the sensation of Jimin making him feel so full.

"Okay," Jungkook whispers as he opens his eyes to gaze lovingly at the other, "I'm ready. You can move."

Jimin could scarcely breathe when Jungkook gazed at him with those dark, dark eyes, the swirls of it clouded with pleasure and love — his eyes seemingly repeating his earlier words, ...I looked at you, and I didn't want to be forgiven. Because loving you is not a sin... I love you, Jimin. I love you, in spite of everything.  

Angel eyes.

Eyes I'd fall in love with over and over again , Jimin catches himself thinking as his lips fell apart with emotions he can't even — didn't even — need to have words anymore, the assurance from Jungkook's words — Love me, Jimin, love me. Because I love you too — breaking him apart and making him feel whole at the same time.

You can move, the words fell so softly from the maknae's lips that Jimin almost came from just that, but he controlled himself, willing his mien to cool and adjusting his cock deep within Jungkook before pressing a kiss on his forehead.

Their hands intertwined, Jimin began to move, thrusting and pumping as deeply as he could, letting Jungkook feel every inch of his love within him. A shaky moan fell from his lips when Jungkook panted against him, pressing a kiss on his throat as they held onto each other's hands tightly — a gesture he felt was one of Jungkook's ways of assuring him that it was all right, that they wanted it both, that they don't have to be alone ever again.

He didn't even realise that his eyes have closed as they thrusted against each other, their bodies uniting so sweetly, so feverishly, so lovingly that Jimin could only see an explosion of colours when his lids fell and Jungkook cried against him. The sound made Jimin blink his eyes open, worry suddenly filling his heart when he saw that tears were falling from the maknae's eyes.

Jimin paused, caressing Jungkook's face, pressing his full lips everywhere — his eyelids, his brows, his cheeks — to take the maknae's tears away. "Don't cry, Jungkook," he murmured against the maknae's lips, "don't cry, my love."

When Jungkook only cupped his face in return, Jimin couldn't help crying too — the maknae pressed his lips against his, wiping all his fears away. The gesture caught him off guard, making him laugh as their tears mingled with each other's when they bumped on each other's noses afterwards.

Oh, my love, Jimin can't help thinking again when Jungkook laughed with him — the sound of it making him laugh and cry harder just like the maknae as they moved again within each other's depths, making love in the darkness of the room.

Ah, even the darkness was so beautiful — the shadows of their bodies moving and pressing against each other in a united rhythm, spreading their warmth all over the bed beneath the glow of dusk falling, sun and moon filling the skies in a chiaroscuro of colours — their love for each other silent, but loud, loud, loud in spite of everything.

"Hey, stay by my side and laugh," Jimin murmurs once they came together, his voice hoarse as they moaned and screamed together, the high from the unity of their fall filling them both with warmth.

"Live happily with me," he continues, kissing Jungkook's eyelids, not yet parting from the maknae's depths. "We'll make it work."

He just doesn't want to let go anymore.

"So stay with me," he whispers, kissing Jungkook's forehead. "I'll be with you, every step of the way."

Because a future without you is a world without colour.

"So will you still be with me, my love?"

Tears gather in his eyes as they tangle their fingers together. As one. His head is thrown back, messy hair fanned out on the pillow. Dreamy sighs slipping past his kiss-bitten lips at the feeling of Jimin’s mouth barely grazing his neck. He tightens his hold on Jimin’s hands, praying he understands what holding onto each other means. I’m never leaving you, hyung. Not again. Never. You’re mine and I’m yours. Only yours. Forever.

Jungkook gazes at Jimin through blurry vision, taking in how beautiful and angelic he is in their moment of love. His eyes are closed, mouth parted with small sighs and moans being released in the air, cheeks flushed with the exertion of their activities. Of them making love. A lone tear trickles down his cheek at the thought of them making love. It’s what they’re doing, and Jungkook still can’t fathom how lucky he is to be able to love and be loved by Jimin.

Love. It’s such a crazy thing, but he’s so grateful he has the chance to experience it. With his best friend at that. What more could he ask for? It’s such an overwhelming thought, and he’s hit with so many feelings that he can’t help but to finally let the tears fall from his eyes and make their way down his cheeks.

He opens his eyes, gaze connecting with Jimin’s, and he leans into the comforting touch as he repeatedly whispers I’m okay. Jungkook just cries harder at the soft gesture and the feeling of pecks being lightly placed all over his face. God, he’s so, so, so in love and he doesn’t know how to handle it. So he returns the gesture and swipes his thumb under Jimin’s eyes, wiping away the droplets of liquid before placing a chaste kiss on his chin, giggling when their noses bump against each other.

And he’s so happy, so happy, that they can still find humor and laugh in this moment. With each pump of Jimin’s hips, Jungkook could feel himself climb higher and higher to his orgasm. With each thrust, he could feel his head getting fuzzy and his body rising in temperature. With each laugh and kiss they shared, he could feel himself falling even more in love with his hyung.

Jungkook’s release hits him hard, and he clutches onto Jimin, pulling him even closer as he cries out Jimin’s name over and over again, their hearts beating in sync. His breathing slows down, but he keeps his eyes closed. He’s so tired and all he wants now is to sleep in Jimin’s arms. It’s one of the only places where he feels completely safe and protected. He sighs once again when Jimin kisses his eyelids. He feels so tranquil lying here in his lover’s embrace and hearing his sweet, sweet promises.

So will you still be with me, my love?

The maknae slowly opens his eyes to stare at Jimin with unadulterated love and adoration, tenderly kissing him and whispering against his lips, “Always.”

Always, Jungkook breathed against his lips —

And oh, oh, Jimin was crying again — how wonderful was it to love and be loved in return. His Jungkook, his sweet, sweet Jungkook. He... he really said that — the one answer he previously never thought of having when he earlier thought —

I want to be with you for a long time, if you'll let me, so please, please, please be with me. Be with me, my angel, and I will give you all the best of me. I love you so much my heart glows when I'm with you, so please, let me love you.  

Always — it is now the only refrain that exists in his heart.

Always — it is now the only word that his soul wants to know, wants to share with Jungkook.

Always — it is now the only light he seeks in this previously monochrome world.

A word filled with so much radiance, so much promise, so much euphoria.

"Ah, my love," Jimin murmurs against the maknae's lips, cupping his face, kissing him over and over again.

"You are me," his breath staggers as Jungkook kisses him back and whispers, his voice in the same quiet and tender tone, "I am you."

Park Jimin doesn't trust words.

But when it came to him, Jungkook never lied.

His eyes, his voice, his touch.

And if it's with him — if it's with him — Jimin will never fear anything ever again.

Because that's what they'll be. That's what they'll do. And that's who they’ve always been.

Never hesitating.

Never stopping.

Never afraid.

No longer.

Because one way or another, their lives were always meant to be intertwined.

Fate. Destiny. Serendipity.

Always.

[martinkate]

evermore lyrics that my vibes are strong with

“this dorm was once a madhouse // i made a joke ‘well it’s made for me, then’“ that whole bride tho

“but you’ll find the real thing instead // she’ll patch up your tapestry, that i shread.” again that wHOLE bridge but w o w 

“my mind / turns your life / into / f o l k l o r e” the aMAZINGNESS AND THE CHILLS I GET I CAN’T   

“so I'll go back to L.A. and the so-called friends who'll write books about me, if i ever make it // and wonder about the only soul who can tell which smiles i'm faking // and the heart i know i'm breaking is my own” i had to put this whole verse because i love it so much

“if it’s all in my head, tell me now // tell me i’ve got it wrong somehow // i know my love should be celebrated // but you tolerate it” the way she sings it is gorgeous i adore this song hgfdfsgh

“i made you my temple, my mural, my sky // now i'm begging for footnotes in the story of your life” the way i absolutely love this song

“and i’ve cleaned enough houses to know how to cover up a scene” the wow-

“beyond the terror in the nightfall // haunted by the look in my eyes // that would’ve loved you for a lifetime” p O E T R Y 

“across our great divide // there is a glorious sunrise // dappled with the flickers of light // from the dress i wore at midnight // leave it all behind” AGAIN- P O E T R Y- THIS WHOLE SONG IS POETRY

“ooh, you’re a queen, selling dreams; selling makeup and magazines // ooh, from you i’d buy anything” i’m sorry the sapphic energy- 

“did i paint your bluest skies the darkest greys?” i’m a sucker for the poetry and this song is beautiful 

“it’s the goddamn fight of my life // and you started it” it’s not a lyric in this song specifically i suppose? just the vibes- like no lyric can capture what the whole song feels like idk

“but that was all before // i locked it down” not this lyric specifically, just the way she sings it. im in love

“and my waves, meet your shore // ever and evermore” poetry. need i say more

“all your closets of backlogged dreams // and how you left them all to me” this WHOLE bridge. i am a sucker for bridges. what about it

“guilty, guilty // reaching out across the sea // that you put between you and me” i just love the vibes of this song jhkgfdhj

“i replay my footsteps on each stepping stone // tryin’ to find the one where i went wrong // writing letters // addressed to the fire” T H I S SONG OKAY- EVERMORE MIGHT BE MY CURRENT FAVOURITE 

“and i was catching my breath // staring out an open window, catching my death // and i couldn’t be sure // i had a feeling so peculiar // that this pain would be for // e v e r m o r e” i LOVE THIS SONG HGJFDSHFJG

“i rewind the tape but all it does is pause // on the very moment all was lost” hAVE I MENTIONED THAT I LOVE THIS SONG

and when i was shipwrecked (can't think of all the cost) // i thought of you (all the things that will be lost now) // in the cracks of light (can we just get a pause?) // i dreamed of you (to be certain we'll be tall again, if you think of all the costs) // it was real enough (whether weather be the frost) // to get me through” JHKGFDHJK I LOVE THIS SONG OKAY- 

[98hwas]

stray kids’ ex mv analysis & theories (part 3)

We see i.n. consuming a little of the cake, yet his expression remains almost blank after consuming it. Since this is set right after the flame rekindles, it makes me wonder if this scene happens after rewinding the past to relight the candles again or is it a throwback to the past prior to the candles being extinguished. If we take it as after the rewind of the past to relight the candles, it can reflect that while the hope of a better future is there, it doesn’t naturally solve all your pain and anguish, these pain takes time to heal, you may relapse to your coping mechanisms like indulging excessively in sweet treats.

The camera pans back to han and we see him dancing with the shirt, it makes me feel like he is playing make believe where he imagines the shirt as that of the person missing in his life right now, playing with them or recreating the memories of those scenes. Then we see him with the shirt over his head, his vision blocked as he stumbles around and his hand lands on the blinds, peeling them shut as sunlight streams in. My take on this scene it is the make believe and rumination of the past causes him to deny reality as how the make belief and thoughts of the past represented by the shirt shields his vision (metaphorically and literally), yet reality still creeps in on him as how the sunlight passes through the enclosed space as the blinds were pulled open. And sunlight is often tagged to positivity and a better future han’s constant fixation of his past and denial of reality as he shuts the blinds to block the sunlight out may be hindering him from moving on and is stuck in a loop of pain and anguish.

This time we see lee know outside surrounded by wild flowers (i think they are wild flowers??? But please correct me if im wrong) and a quick google, wild flowers represent joy yet lee know’s expression is almost melancholic. But he is the first to be shown to be out of the house, as mentioned earlier, and i am not sure how to read this since it is a very open interpretation. It can mean an attempt to move forth but can also just be a continued juxtaposition of how the world around him is happy yet he is still in a state of melancholy.

This scene is appears to be an attempt to end things quite literally, to take one’s life for the pain to stop and we see that happening when bang chan sinks his head into the water, the song softened to a garbled mess, and if the song represent the pain and anguish, it is being drowned out by the water. But we soon see bang chan struggling against his memories, the first real scene of all of skz together overlapping with bang chan’s face, this portrays the interturmoil bang chan faces. Yes, ending his life can solve the problem of hurting and pain but it also means those memories of the happy and fun moments will be gone as well, people who he loves will no longer be with him. And we later see that bang chan fails in his attempt to end his life.

For this scene, we notice that changbin’s background is no longer the melancholic blue but a faded yellow grey almost like that of an old photograph, but instead we see changbin smearing blue pain over the glass or camera lens with a paint covered hand. As established earlier the blue represents melancholy and pain, but to cover the camera with blue paint it shields changbin from the viewer’s eyes and i think this can be read in many ways. First, it can mean the feelings spilling over rather physically into reality and those emotions surrounding him are engulfing him literally and metaphorically. But it can also mean to bare his emotions rawly to others rather than keeping it in as the song suggests to find a release.

And finally at the very end we see the members together as a group, no longer alone/separated. And we see them together outside, no longer confined to the apartment, their back view seemingly lively and much happier. This i read it as a break from the apartment houses those negative emotions as the house is a confined space, boxing a person in the walls separating them even though they exist in the same space and this causes this isolation to be dealt with in pretty unhealthy ways. We see skz sleeping in a circle and waking up, and the cloth that they sit on appears to be the ghost outfit that had once covered them, this almost makes it feel like they are discarding the ghosts of the painful past to move forward.

And the mv ends with this scenery of cloudy skies and a double rainbow. Sighting a rainbow is often a lucky and is considered a blessing. To see a double rainbow, it is a sign of transformation hinting at the better future that awaits skz.

part 1 / part 2 / current / part 4

[space--racoon]

Purple Skies

So I’ve been listening to a lot of Fall Out Boy recently, and had the American Beauty/American Psycho album on loop while crocheting and coming up with the next three ideas. This particular one came to me from Favorite Record (one of my favorites off the album). Enjoy!

                                                                                                      -Quinn

The bed creaked as I flopped down after a long night out with Roman and his friends. My feet ached and my heart was all twisted up again. It’d been so long since I’d seen his face, but there he was. Time could have rewinded then, with the feeling of sand between my toes and a cool breeze hitting my sweaty face everywhere but reality. Each of those nights flooded over me more vivid than the last, shuddering my body with sobs. Purple skies raced by as a grey car slid over the empty roads. Stars twinkling in the sky like blinking eyes the only ones to know the two were there. 

Waves crash against rocks feet away as laughter rose into the air. My boots laid near the car as Virgil kicked sand at my ankles. A smile tugged at my painfully unmarked face as he raced back over to the car and turned the volume up just a bit more as one of his absolute favorite songs came on. I’ve grown to adore this song too for the way he dances and smiles each time it plays is worth the nights of no sleep. He kicks his sneakers off for the first time this night and throws the socks at me. We share a laugh, and his hair falls back as his head does too. My hands reach out for his, but he’s already twirling with arms out wide. All of a sudden my world is twirling and my feet have taken charge in copying him. This small action feels so freeing. 

I feel hands on my shoulders as I’m tugged to a stop to stare into brown eyes deeper than the earth. “I can’t believe you stopped for this again!” He calls as he shoves me to the ground and runs away. His black hoodie flapped behind him like a cape as I lean back on my hands and just watch him become smaller and smaller. Soon he came back and laid that hoodie out. We laid down and watched the stars together for what could have been forever or two minutes. Four shooting stars later, he’s yawning and its time to leave.

I sigh, harshly wiping away the tears falling down my face. My legs reach my chest as I uselessly try to stop the onslaught of memories him and his ever recognizable laugh have forced back on me. “Why did he ever fucking come to my house if he fucking hated me that much?! Why did he ever beg me to go out at night with him if he had other fucking friends that were so much better than me?!” The words break loose from my head, struggling to grasp onto sobs and echoing around the dark room to nobody but me. 

We raced on our feet through town roads, delaying in all our favorite places. Iced teas held open in our hands as laughter disturbed the almost complete silence. I stepped up onto the swing with one foot and held onto a chain with my free hand. My body leaned out into the air as I called for the world to go fuck itself. The feeling of teenage anger bubbled in my veins as I watched him flip nothing visible off just for the hell of it. His hand encased my wrist and pulled me down off my high point. Running towards the slides had never made me feel as alive as it had that night. Skinny jeans fought our legs as we climbed up onto the bar. We sat next to each other silently, watching the lights of the town. Cars trembled on down the roads, never knowing the four eyes watching with soft smiles. 

Suddenly, a can was thrown and my hat was stolen. I watched as he jumped down and ran the length of the slide. The hat fit him nicely, but I really don’t approve of anyone having it. I follow him down, a little slower. He’s running into the field by now, taunting me about being slow, so I pick up my pace. Chasing him at a sprint at three am is never where I planned to be, but I could never imagine being anywhere else. He trips, and I trip over him. We slam into the clay off the baseball field together. His laugh rings out as he hands me my coated and crushed hat, presumably at my face of disappointment. A giggle rises in my throat as he stands and I see the red coating his jacket. He points at me, still laughing. “Look at yourself!”

“You’re not much better yourself.” I remind him. His barely visible smile stuck in my head as we meander back to the side walks. We stumble the long way back home. His door shuts silently, closing out my last view of him that night. I turn around and tuck my hands into the pockets of my jacket. A long walk over ten town roads and into the dark of the outskirts without lights never feels so lonely except after a night of his laughter. Tears prick at my eyes, which I blame on the bitter wind no longer blocked by rows of houses.

Tears prick at my eyes less and less now as I run out of them. Memories of him are the only ones I just can’t remember how to forget. Weak arms I own pull a heavy blanket over me and I wipe away the wetness on my cheeks yet again. Black boots so similar to the ones I only remember seeing in his doorway are kicked sloppily by my bedroom door, now visible only from the light of the rising sun. A long sigh stings my ears as I realise I had been forced into a sleepless night by him once again. He hadn’t done that to me in so long. Years after that final night I never would have expected to catch sight of those deep earth eyes. Years after that final fight I never would have expected to see that classic under eye makeup in dim star light again. Now I know I wish I never would have.  

[queliotevents]

this is by no means a comprehensive list of prompts, simply a post to help inspire. for each song on the album ‘evermore’ we have selected a few lines to help inspire you. please enjoy this selection of lines that we felt had strong queliot energy. for your own works, feel free to draw from any line you like, regardless of whether or not it is on this list.

willow

i’m begging for you to take my hand / wreck my plans, that’s my man

i could feel your sneakin’ in / as if you were a mythical thing

every bait-and-switch was a work of art

champagne problems

left you out there standing / crestfallen on the landing

i never was ready so i watch you go

but you’ll find the real thing instead

gold rush

eyes like sinking ships on waters / so inviting, i almost jump in

i don’t like that anyone would die to feel your touch

my mind turns your life into folklore

'tis the damn season

there’s an ache in you, put there by the ache in me

and the road not taken looks real good now

you can run, but only so far

tolerate it

i sit and watch you reading with your head low

if it’s all in my head tell me now / tell me i’ve got it wrong somehow

i made you my temple, my mural, my sky

no body, no crime

we meet up every tuesday night for dinner and a glass of wine

but i ain’t lettin’ up until the day i die

and i’ve cleaned enough houses / to know how to cover up a scene

happiness

haunted by the look in my eyes / that would’ve loved you for a lifetime

no one teaches you what to do / when a good man hurts you / and you know you hurt him too

after giving you the best i had / tell me what to give after that

dorothea

you got shiny friends since you left town

it’s never too late to come back to my side

you know, you’ll always know me

coney island

break my soul in two looking for you

and do you miss the rogue / who coaxed you into paradise and left you there?

did i paint your bluest skies the darkest grey?

ivy

your touch brought forth an incandescent glow

oh, i can’t / stop you putting roots in my dreamland

i’d live and die for moments that we stole / on begged and borrowed time

cowboy like me

you had some tricks up your sleeve

and the skeletons in both our closets / plotted hard to fuck this up

forever is the sweetest con

long story short

pushed from the precipice / clung to the nearest lips / long story short, it was the wrong guy

past me / i wanna tell you to not get lost in these petty things

and he’s passing by / rare as the glimmer of a comet in the sky / and he feels like home

marjorie

if i didn’t know better / i’d think you were still around

what died didn’t stay dead / you’re alive, so alive

i should’ve asked you how to be / asked you to write it down for me

closure

it wasn’t right / the way it all went down / looks like you know that now

don’t treat me like / some situation that needs to be handled

guilty, guilty, reaching out across the sea / that you put between you and me

evermore

i rewind the tape but all it does is pause / on the very moment all was lost

cannot think of all the cost / and the things that will be lost

and when i was shipwrecked / i thought of you

right where you left me

they expected me to find somewhere / some perspective, but i sat and stared

you left me no choice but to stay here forever

if our love died young / i can’t bear witness

it’s time to go

or that moment again, he’s insisting that friends / look at each other like that

that old familiar body ache / the snaps from the same little breaks in my soul

i gave it my all, he gave me nothing at all / then wondered why i left

if one of these lyrics speaks to you, please visit our Google Form to sign up to join this event.

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