#so even though it's quite a sad album it's a comfort in the sense of being what i reach for when i feel bad

[jakeperalta]

defining a "comfort album" as whatever feels right to you :)

[foreverinadais]

three’s a crowd: m.k

summary: your in a loving relationship with Marc and Layla. But after a bad day, you come home to see them infatuated with each other, and begin to doubt the security in your relationship with the married pair.

warnings: angst, insecurity, language, fluff, worry between both marc and layla, Fem! reader

pairings: marc spector x fem! reader, layla el faouly x fem! reader, marc spector x layla el faouly

word count: 2054 words :) 

It had been quite possibly the worst day of your working life. How it was possible for people to be so unbelievably frustrating was beyond you. It was as if every customer had an unspoken vendetta against you, a line of people asking for ‘the manager’ or throwing snide comments your way. It didn’t help that you had a paper due in yesterday that was still sat, unfinished, on your desk.

You made the usual route back to Marc’s apartment, knowing Layla would also be there, and you felt a sense of excitement at the thought of just curling up between them and falling asleep. You loved your relationship with them all. Even though you slotted in later, it all fell into place pretty quickly, and Layla and Marc couldn’t believe you hadn’t always been with them.

You all but dragged yourself up the stairs, cursing the lift for being out of order, especially when you tripped on the last step and only caught yourself last minute. The door was in sight, and you breathed a sigh of relief, ready to throw your bag down and collapse on the bed.

But as you opened the door, the action surprisingly quiet, you heard a small laugh. Your eyes followed the melodic and familiar sound to where Marc and Layla were cuddled on the sofa, looking through a photo album of their marriage. You had no problem that they were labelled as ‘husband and wife’, although sometimes you felt a strange feeling in your stomach, not jealously, but something deeper.

Perhaps it was the sight of them there, so happy, so in love with each other, that an overwhelming sense of sadness washed over you, bringing with it an odd insecurity. It was Layla’s smile, so bright and wide as she looked at the pictures of them, not you. It was the twinkle in Marc’s eyes, maybe a longing for the past.

Soon enough, you were in a hole, dirt falling down onto you, corrupting your ability to think logically, reasonably. And then you were leaving, as silently as you came, your presence unnoticed by the pair. Your feet paced down the stairs, getting the bus back to your own flat, a place which felt less and less like home everyday thanks to the comfort your lovers’ flat brought.

You fumbled with the keys, pushed over the edge when they fell from your grasp with a harsh ‘clink!’. Tears began to well in your eyes as you finally pushed through the door, throwing your bag to the side, not even changing from your work clothes before crumbling into bed.

Perhaps it was the horrid day you’d had, or maybe the fact you were questioning your place in your relationship, or maybe it was everything else that made sobs rack your body. You buried your face in the pillow, legs wrapped in the duvet, trying to grasp for any comfort you could find. It wasn’t long before you fell asleep, cheeks tear stained and eyes no doubt puffy.

Layla glanced at the small clock on the wall, sigh leaving her lips as she turned to her husband. “It’s been an hour. Maybe she got held up at work?” They had noticed your lack of presence as soon as the time you were usually home struck. Automatically, they were leaving messages, worry settling in as the hour changed.

“She would text. Somethin’ has happened.”

“Don’t do that, Marc. I’m sure its all fine. Don’t go there in that brain of yours.” But she wasn’t trusting her own words, nervously nibbling the skin of her thumb.

“Well, tough, I’m already there. She always texts back.” This was true. You normally left messages all throughout the day, small affirmations to say that you were okay, or if you weren’t, you wouldn’t shy away from explaining why. Neither of the pair could find any reason you wouldn’t message them back. It filled them with an overwhelming sense of worry, a million uncertainties corrupting their brains. 

“Why don’t we go to her apartment? Maybe she’s popped back to get something, or maybe we’ll see her walking here.” Layla assured, forever the voice of reason. Marc nodded, exhaling slightly as he tried to fall in her words.

“Your right. Let’s go.” The pair exited the flat, not before leaving a small note explaining where they were, in case you happened to wander in whilst they were gone. It didn’t take long for them to get to your abode. Marc offered his wife a look as they got to your door, making Layla instantly run a hand down his back in an attempt to comfort his nerves. Layla was the first one to knock, confident taps against the door which would get your attention without waking up the whole complex. After a minute, however, there was no answer. Layla sighed deeply to calm her accelerating heartbeat, trying again, offering words as well this time; 

“Y/N? Are you in here, baby?” After this attempt was left to no avail, Marc took over, banging the door harder this time.

“Marc, hey, she might not be home, we don’t need to wake up the entire building!” Marc groaned, checking his phone once, before getting on his knees. “What are you-”

“She’s home.” 

“How-”“Lights are on.” He was back on his feet, knocking again, “C’mon, we know your in. Open the door.” Normally, Layla would scold him for being so stern, but now, she was feeling uncharacteristically anxious too. If you were home, why were you so blatantly ignoring them? What had they done wrong?

“We just want to know what’s wrong, Y/N/N! We’re worried about you.” Layla chimed in, her caring voice a soft contrast to Marc’s, which was bordering on anger brought on by desperation. Perhaps it was this which elected a small shuffle from behind the door. The pair looked at each other, relieved that there was sign of life, but confused as to why you were hiding away. “We know your in there, now open the door.” Marc’s sternness pushed you over the edge, and the lock was finally given life as it clicked open. Layla was the first to push open the door, instantly searching for you in the room. Marc was awfully close behind.

She spotted you sat on the sofa, hands in your lap as you fiddled with your fingers, something you only did when nervous. “Hi, darling.” She whispered, going to sit by you, taking your hands in her own to stop you from your anxious fiddling. “Why didn’t you answer, hey? We were worried about you.” You looked down, almost guilty, still feeling the insecurity from earlier corrupting your insides. Marc was in less of a comforting mood, mostly feeling pissed that you had let them worry for so long. 

“Why didn’t you answer you phone, huh? Hell, we thought you could’ve been taken o-or killed, for fuck sake!” Layla shot him a look to which he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers. 

“ ‘m sorry.” You whispered, voice coming out smaller than you intended. Layla was about to respond when you spoke again, “I understand if you want to leave me.” Both parties froze, Layla’s touch leaving yours. “What do you mean?” She said, suddenly noticing your tear-stained cheeks and puffy eyes in the dim lights of the room. 

“Why would we want to leave you?” You sniffled, trying to find the words through your insecurities and emotions. It was the sound of your name from Marc that made them spill out, all at once.

“Because you have each other! Your married and I-I just intruded on your relationship and that’s unfair of me, and I know your better off with just each other cause ‘three’s a crowd’ an’ all that, and I just… I understand why you would want to leave me.” Layla could hardly find the words to respond to your words, a sour feeling in her mouth, her stomach, rising like bile or acid. Marc, however, was overcome with guilt, detest that they could ever make you feel like this. 

“Why…” Layla started, trying to calm her shaky tone, “What made you feel like this?” Your heart cracked at her voice, furthering the newfound hatred for yourself, that you had made her feel like this.

“Earlier. I, urh, I came by and saw you together, and you looked… looked so in love and it made me feel…” You cut yourself off with a cough, trying to contain the sobs rising in your throat. Marc’s expression was almost unreadable as he looked from you to Layla, who had tears brimming her eyes. He wanted to shout, not at you, but at himself for ever making you feel anything other than unconditionally loved. 

Before he knew it, he was kneeling in front of where you were sat. His fingers were almost scared to touch you, as if you were an ethereal, delicate being. Then, reason took over, and one of your hands was in his. Layla followed suite, taking your other in hers, so you were encased by their concern, but more, their love.

“Hey, look here.” His tone forced you to look into his eyes, clouded with emotion, complex as they always were, “It was stupid of you to run away.”

“Marc-” Layla warned at her husband’s method of comfort, but he wasn’t finished.

“Because if you stayed, you would’ve seen how much we fucking missed you. How much we need you. You’re the missing piece, yeah? What we’ve always needed.” You felt a tear run down your cheek, but Marc’s thumb was faster, swiping it off your cheek and leaving his touch there in a comforting motion. “Your our world, honey. And if we ever made you feel less than that- the fact we made you feel less than that-” Layla, too, let a tear fall and you felt unbelievably guilty that your let your insecurity overcome you. You grabbed her hand in your own, bringing it up to your lips to kiss the skin. “I’m sorry-”

“Don’t apologise.” Marc stopped you, and Layla agreed, “Never say sorry for having emotions, okay? You taught me that.” He smiled comfortingly, lovingly, and it made you nod, his words finally meeting your ears. “We both love you, baby, and we will spend the rest of our lives proving that to you, okay?” When you didn’t respond, he tried again, lifting your face up with his fingers lightly, “Okay?”

You finally nod, sniffling, whispering an ‘okay’ and ‘love you both back’. Layla kissed your cheek, right next to where Marc’s thumb was, and your eyes fluttered shut, relishing in their touch.

“Let’s go to bed, shall we, my darling?” Layla asked, and you nodded, not finding it in you to talk. Both of them guided you to your bed, offering a smile to each other as they did so. You were already drifting off when your head hit the pillow, Marc’s hands manoeuvring you under the duvet, making sure you were comfortable. The two followed suite, Layla’s head resting on your shoulder, placing soft, small kisses to your neck as Marc rested his head on your own, the tips of his fingers tracing down the flesh of your arm. Both of them were whispering affirmations of their love for you as you fell into sleep, feeling comforted, secure, for the first time all day.

It was all you need, their touch, their words, their love; and it was all they wanted to give you. When they saw you were asleep, Layla sighed, hand reaching out to grab her husband’s over your sleeping frame. “We can never make her feel like that again, okay?” Marc softly agreed, trying to push away the feelings of guilt eating away at the both of them. The two stayed with you all night, didn’t want to let you leave the bed, even when you were back to your usual self.

Of course, you assured them you felt better, which was the truth. You eased both their guilt, confirmed your love for the both, and in return, they did the same.

Because they loved you; You were the light to both of their darkness, the person who made them feel complete- the missing piece to the puzzle of their lives.

[cherriesonaversatile]

The Kills' new stuff?

I've been a fan of the Kills since Blood Pressures was released (eons ago, really). My partner got into them when Midnight Boom was around. I was really obsessed with them and now I pick them up with massive nostalgia because well, the sound and factually the aura, feel, the whole will they/did they/etc shenanigans really tied the whole image together, even if they dropped it. But watching documentaries like I Hate The Way You Love, french documentaries, long interviews, old recorded gigs and trying to figure out things even if it's their own lives, they had their own mystique around them.

They were very cool. It wasn't that they gave more interviews then, it was that they knew what to say, they knew what not to say, it was natural for them. Now it feels like a forced recipe in the music, which is really sad. I knew Jamie had talked about straying from guitars quite a while now, but it's sad to properly witness it in the tracks we've seen.

I'm happy that Alison is more comfortable and found love with Damian Lewis, I'm sure everyone is very very happy for her and bless that! Seriously, I grin from ear to ear. They look very sweet with one another.

I don't think that strained The Kills though, but Jamie had always been behind steering the wheel behind the scenes, so it really feels like he's lost interest in making guitar music. I know obviously they've grown, but as corny as it is we need to address that this feels like a "Little Room" situation, which most know is a The White Stripes song (c'mon, we're the same fandom practically). Jamie talked about it in length of how brilliant it was and how relatable it was. The Kills played in a closet space while they were getting on track before Keep on your Mean Side and starting the band. And now obviously they've gotten far more creative space and recognition, but it feels like they're doing it to do it.

I'm probably bias as hell, but I love the whole raw energy and strict bare sound that they had in the beginning, as well as Jamie's former projects like Scarfo and Fiji, which really focused on talking about poverty, being low on the ladder, crime and unattainable things. Now all of that is achieved and they did sort of feel like they missed the old days (hence the massive rehashes of polaroids from their first US tour and releasing Dream & Drive). It was fascinating to dig into their musical influences, hear Jamie read Kerouac, how they bonded over Andy Warhol and Edie Sedgewick, Jamie showing Alison The Velvet Underground and PJ Harvey, talking about Sonic Youth.

I don't get the same vibe from Rihanna fan talk and the current music they enjoy. I'm not saying your influences have to be very seen in your music, but here it feels very bland, imo.

And regarding to the controversial album cover of "God Games" I saw it, I was a bit surprised that it was very very... meh and I was just even more underwhelmed since the songs are very very bland to me, so bland songs, bland album. I'm not entirely sure what they wanted to say with it, I know they stopped being vegans eons ago or stand up for animal rights, and not saying that only vegans care about animal rights! But it does feel like a quick note on "hey, this is our interpretation which is xyz" as a simple reply anywhere would make more sense than running to make some stupid drama of are they supporting bullfighting and what is this shit get the album some attention. Meh.

[enoajjjaaaa]

Insecurities.

Pairing: Joseph Quinn x reader

Category: Angus, fluff, comfort

Warnings: none, a little sad maybe

Note: my first post. I don’t usually write shorter stories but here we are. Enjoy!

———————

Most times when you look at Joe, everything’s falls in place. Whenever life and whatever higher power might exist tested you, he always found a way and washed them all away. That’s what attracted you to him, you theorized. The soothing atmosphere around him—as if the air was just different in his presence.

However, that air could also become quite heavy—especially when you fell in love with him. He had a schedule that was very testing to your relationship. While you enjoyed planning ahead and preferably avoided larger spontaneous happenings, his creerer demanded that of him.

You always cheered him on and pushed him to do what it took to go further in his work, even though you, in the back of your mind, knew what it meant. Perhaps you had thought he wouldn't get as big as he did, which made a sense of shame boil in your chest. Perhaps he wouldn’t become the big star he now was—the overnight sensation.

It was selfish of you to wish he had less to do—to wish for time he now had to put into work. Although, if your friend came to you with similar feelings you would tell them that those feelings were completely valid, so why was it so difficult to accept them for yourself?

Tonight you had been battling these emotions and thoughts since you came home from work, resulting in you grabbing some photo albums to remember better times. One was from your brother's wedding. Some people thought it was funny how you insisted on creating physical albums when “you could just save them on a disk” or something. Not Joe, though. He said it was sweet. Although, he was quite the old fashioned guy himself.

“Hello!” You heard a call from the hallway and the front door closed. It was Joseph’s tired voice. “You’re awake.” He stated, when he came into the living room and saw you on the couch.

You glanced over to the clock on the wall to your right. It was almost 11. “Yes, I am.” You smiled, suddenly feeling tired at the reminder of the option to sleep. “Was the after work thing fun?”

Joseph had had a shoot for a magazine earlier today and called you to let you know that he would go out and have a drink with some from the team, including his lovely assistant Eric. You had told him to have fun and not forget his keys at the bar, which had happened one, two times too often.

He didn’t seem too alcohol affected now though. Not that you would have minded if he had been. You recalled the times you had arrived back home after nights out with friends, how well he always took care of you. Even when you were completely, well—shitfaced.

“It was great. Missed you though, so had to take my leave.” He said, with a grin on his face as he came over and sat down beside you. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you to lean against him. He wore the brown turtleneck you had given him for Christmas. He always complained how it itched, but still wore it because he knew you liked it.

“You shouldn’t leave on my behalf.” You argued playfully, but you couldn’t help but feel happy he thought of you.

He put his face against your hair, you felt him press his lips against your head. He then looked down at the album on your knee. “Whatcha doin’?”

“Just looking at some pictures.” You answered. You turned a page and there was a picture of Joe and your aunt's husband. They both had beige costumes and you thought it was hilarious and made them pose together. It felt quite surreal seeing Joe with family members who you’d grown up around. It was like a crazy crossover between your two favorite tv shows. You pointed at the picture, “You remember that?”

Joe chuckled, “of course.” He was quiet for a while, letting you turn the pages for a minute. Then he gently placed his hand at your jaw and under your ear, turning your head to look at him. He had a noticeable concerned look in his eyes. “You alright? You only take these out when you’re sad or something.”

It scared you sometimes how well he knew you. It also warmed you up, knowing that he took notice of small things like that. You did that too, to him. You knew he picked at his cuticles when he was anxious, which led to you holding his hand—for him to not accidentally hurt himself. He also had a thing for vacuum cleaning before telling you he had an unexpected work thing happening that would need his presence. It was nice of him to leave a clean floor when he left, but whenever the vacuum cleaner came out now, it made you anxious.

“I just love you, that’s all.” He looked a bit taken back by that. It wasn’t the first time you’ve said that, of course. But the two of you believed that those words were special and neither of you wanted to overuse them. Therefore, you only said them to each other when it really had to be said. Before he could say anything back, you continued. “I want to be with you forever, you know?”

“Really?” He gasped overdramatically, a wide grin forming on his face. “I want to be with you forever too.”

“Good.”

“Somethings bothering you.” He stated then. “Forever is a very long time. If we want to keep this up for that long you’ll have to let me know when something is bothering you.”

“Can’t argue that logic, I suppose.” You said. “I just wished I could see more of you. You work a lot now. You’re away a lot and at home way less than I would like.”

Joe hugged you to him, “I know. It’s my job, though. This is all I’ve ever wanted.”

“I know, and I am so happy for you, seriously!” You laughed. “It’s just my feelings, nothing has been done about them. I guess… I’m just scared we’ll drift apart.”

You sat in silence for a while after your confession. You would like to say that you and Joe have a quite healthy relationship, where you can openly speak of things that bother you, and hear each other out. You can have discussions and disagree without it turning into fights and hear each other out with an open mind. Usually you never mentioned your own feelings because you felt bad for pushing them onto him. You were aware that they were based on your own insecurities and they usually disappeared as soon as you said them out loud. Therefore it felt unnecessary to bring them up.

“I’m scared too.” He said quietly. “And I think that’s because I love you so much. Losing you—I don’t even want to imagine it. You’re it. I really do think so and…” he traced off to think his next sentence through. You smiled knowing he was doing his best to not sound too cheesy. You even had to fight the urge to giggle, knowing it would throw him off, and you really wished to hear what he had to say. “—I feel like if I let you go, I will never find anything as good—and thank god you’re a good person cuz’, geeze, you could really gaslight me into a toxic relationship, I’m not joking. I’m very vulnerable with you.”

You laughed then. “Joseph! You can’t say things like that!”

“It’s true though.”

“When did you start using words like gaslight anyways?” You asked.

“Fans use words like that. Gotta do my research, stay cool.”

“Down with the kids, huh?” He threw his head back laughing. “Well, I think you’re “it” too.”

He smiled at you, one of those smiles and you could see in his eyes. He turned his attention back to the photo album and went back a few pages to the ones of your brother and his wife. “If we get married I want it just like theirs. It was just perfect wasn’t it. Simple but… charming.”

Your heart felt so warm suddenly, at the idea that he thought of being married to you. Marriage was a big thing, a serious, big thing. A serious thing that serious couples do. And he wanted to do that with you. “You wanna get married in my little home town?”

“Of course, I love your “little home town”.” He swept his thumb over your cheek lovingly.

“If you proposed to me, I’d say yes.” You bravely confessed, kissing him on the cheek.

“I have nothing stopping me, then, do I?”

Fin.

[silverfoxlou]

Have you posted an analysis for All This Time? I think I’m reading too much into things, but I feel like it could be about something dark, like self harm or thinking of ending your life? I would like to know your thoughts!

I posted one a while ago but the longer I've listened to it I think my interpretation of it has changed slightly? First - including a disclaimer that we don't know what the song or the lyrics mean to Louis, so anything I say is just an interpretation based on what I think and from talking to Kari about the song (we were actually just talking about it the other day so this is nice timing lol).

I agree with what you said. There is an underlying theme of struggling with depression in the song (and other songs on the album), possibly even suicidal ideation (which has also been alluded to in quite a few songs before this).

But in typical Louis-wrote-this-song fashion, even though the song is depressing it's still comforting (does that make sense?). His strength in writing songs is that he perfectly captures human emotions, even the dark ones, but doesn't dismiss them to say "life is actually great", or "it wasn't that bad and it's going to be easier from here on" or "everything will get better". He talks about how much it has hurt/continues to hurt but that it doesn't mean you have to give in.

In All This Time he seems to be describing being in a dark place and finding reasons to keep going. And I keep on building mountains / Hoping that they'll turn to gold - keep doing the work hoping that one day, something he does will grant him the success he wants or get him out of the dark place that he's in. But even through this, there's the self-doubt, and possible external pressures, making it harder to believe that what he does is enough to get him home (also what does home mean to him? and in this song? Is it the place where he feels safe and comforted).

He also talks about how he's not alone in this - Our eyes meet / And I can tell that you're the same as me - he could be talking to the people listening to the song or people he's met, but acknowledges that everyone is also experiencing similar struggles and trying to find ways to overcome them and that we're all just doing our best to keep going.

Ultimately, what the song is saying is that that we shouldn’t hide from any of it - the pain, the sadness, the self-doubts, the hopelessness, every difficult and bad experience - but instead that we have to embrace the love we experience, the connections we make, the friendships and the relationships, the simple joys of being alive and getting to experience life.

It's not how you spend the time, it's if you waste it -> The friends we make, the love it takes / It's worth it all this time

[maybemoonout]

"Get freaked out from a knock at the door

When i haven't been expecting one

Didn't that used to be part of the fun

Once upon a time?" - Ultracheese

"Well we were kissing

It was secret

We'd had to sneak beyond the kitchen

Both well aware that there'd be trouble" - The Dream Synopsis

I can feel the same energy and i have some thoughs about it

Hi there anon! It took me a little bit to get what you were seeing but once you said it I saw it SO CLEARLY. I can sort of understand the similarity you're seeing. I'm not sure if what I'm getting from you is the same thing you're actually seeing, but from what I understand: Get freaked out from a knock at the door When i haven't been expecting one Didn't that used to be part of the fun Once upon a time? and Well we were kissing It was secret We'd had to sneak beyond the kitchen Both well aware that there'd be trouble

both are saying something secret is happening? Like he gets freaked out when there's a knock because hes doing something no one should see, but the thrill of it used to be part of the fun? And of course the next lyrics are self-explanatory. If I did get what you're seeing, then this is definitely an interesting way of seeing it. If you have read this analysis on The Ultracheese by @yellowloid (if you haven't, please do, it's a really good read) but basically even if you haven't read it you can definitely hear the sadder undertones it has. Although The Dream Synopsis is also quite sad in a sense, I think the idea of both is a bit different, especially comparing the eras he wrote these in, TDS being in ETYCTE Era and TU during TBH+C. Now if we look at it from a MILEX persepective (by this I mean imagining that it was written with the Idea that Miles is the subject of both songs) we could probably shift the ideas a little more. TDS was written during ETYCTE Era, written WITH Miles, so I can't really be fully convinced this song is about him, although a few aspects definitely are about Miles (e.i. "It was you and me and Mile Kane DOES IMPLY Alex dreams about Miles HAHAHAH) I don't think I'm the right person to analyze that one. I have also seen before that possibly the first verse, the lyrics you mentioned, are likely about Taylor, but who truly knows other than Alex right? If anyone wants to make a song analysis on TDS, be my guest and I'd read it to its entirety. THE ULTRACHEESE THOUGH? Different story ENTIRELY. I might be a little biased because I have read the mentioned song analysis above, but if we consider the period this was written as well I definitely think its a little more likely that this song is about Miles. What I personally believe from that verse (Milex Perspective or not) is that possibly he's no longer used to having someone that constantly visits him. The teenage years have gone by, and although he definitely still has fun, it's just not the same as before, hence, when someone does continue to bring that aspect back into his life, it freaks him out, but then realizes shortly after that, that he used to like it, it used to be fun, long ago, the thrill and the adventure and just having someone be comfortable enough to visit him without needing to call or text before hand. Someone he's.... REALLY COMFORTABLE WITH.... I definitely think a lot of Alex songs continue of off each other, like how the car continues off from TBH+C in a way. TBH+C was the next album after ETYCTE after all and although they are technically different bands they're still the same Alex Turner. I like to think Alex always just sings about his experiences in this convoluted cynical, but beautiful way, so it's definitely possible that whoever he was writing about, still continues on to the next thing he does. Do I think TBH+C is more about Miles than songs in ETYCTE? A little bit yes, in a Milex perspective of course. But, even after all of this, please realize, I'm just a small little boy whose opinion doesn't really matter in this sense because I am not Alex Turner. Art leaves us to our own interpretations and YOUR interpretation is as important as MINE. Songs are meant to be enjoyed the way we view it. And I definitely see your point as well anon! I'd love to hear back from you if you wish to keep explaining your point of view because honestly, it's quite an interesting one that I think should be explored! Kudos to you for making me think really deeply, lol. Sorry if I this wasn't really the reply you were hoping for! I'd love to hear back from you and discuss some more <3ec

[on-the-shelves]

on my shelf: soundtrack to MA year 3 - winter

welcome back to my bi-annual music roundup! my goal is to be done with uni This Year so i'll have to start thinking of what else to do with this concept (like that's the biggest life-problem i have to solve this year lol). anyway. even though i only took 3 classes this semester, one of them took up ALL of my time: typography. much like it's hard for me to watch movies normally now, i'm now looking at all kinds of written text in a completely new way which is equally fascinating and annoying. but you could say that for most of what i've learned at uni. what wasn't annoying, was the music i listened to (ey? ey?), so let's get into it:

RM: Indigo (2022)

RM's music over the years has spanned many different themes and genres, from hardcore (?) rap on his first mixtape to more vibey stuff on mono to all the many different things he's done on BTS' songs. Indigo continues this principle of diversity but by making the entire album so varied yet so cohesive. He touches on subjects like what it means to make art and to be a person, love and loneliness, navigating friendship. He's also developed quite the vocal skills, showing off his warm deep tone on several songs. While the comfort that mono was in its sadness, it's greys, the sound of rain and the melancholy of it, Indigo's comfort comes from a warmer place. It feels more grounded (despite the hectic genre switch-ups, like: "Closer" into "Change Pt. 2"?! Insane! But it works!) and the ever-present hopefulness feels more graspable. In general, the melodies on this album are also just so good that I can't get enough of them and I'm excited for my vinyl to arrive in June!!

fav: No. 2 (but seriously, all the songs are SO good)

Epik High: Strawberry (2023)

First of all: I recently saw Epik High live for the first time and it was like 100/10 amazing. Besides the songs being amazing, they're all just really funny?! It was half standup half hip-hop show and I was LIVING. Anyway, so Strawberry starts off with an instrumental track that would fit perfectly on Spotify's Dalkom Café playlist (which I love) and then goes into two insanely catches songs featuring Jackson Wang and Hwasa, respectively. Perfect choices. Iconically, the first lyrics you hear are "I'm on my way / I'm on my villain arc / I'mma need you to shut up for a minute" but on a really chill lo-fi beat. Beautiful. That's also how their live show started which is truly iconic. What fascinates me the most about Epik High's music is the melodic sensibility they bring to every song, even the ones that sound like freestyle rap. There's always a melodic heart to it, combined with really good lyrics.

fav: Catch

Paramore: This Is Why (2023)

They're finally back!!! If you can't tell by my profile picture, Paramore's After Laughter (2017) is one of my absolute favourite albums of all time. And of course I love all their older albums too. I think This Is Why is a perfect follow-up to all of these: it ties in all the different sounds we've heard before but in a new way. It feels like they're still inspired by the same things, but they've gone deeper into them, if that makes sense. The sounds and themes of the album also just feel like a perfectly natural progression after Hayley's two solo albums, which the other band members also helped out on. You can hear and feel how much all of them have matured and grown musically, skills-wise, and personally. It's such a pleasure just letting all the sounds wash over you or singing along aggressively. There's a lot of aggression on the album, even in the love songs. But it's a good aggression? Maybe that's not the right word, but there's a power and a force, as opposed to a defeatedness throughout all the songs. Especially considering everything we've all been living through since the last album, I think this is a perfect response.

fav: Running Out of Time

NewJeans: "Ditto", "OMG" (2022/2023)

It's all hits, no misses so far with these girls. "Ditto" was released a bit earlier in the winter and perfectly encapsulated the wistful melancholy of the grey and wet days while still being insanely catchy. The melody has this very specific kind of melancholy, nostalgic undertone that the music video emphasises, but paired with a drill drumbeat that gives the whole thing an edge. "OMG" might sound more upbeat in direct comparison at first, but it also has some more somber undertones, especially when you take the music video (which left me confused and intrigued after my first watch) into consideration. I like that NewJeans songs can absolutely appeal to teenagers (their peers) easily but even older listeners can genuinely enjoy them without feeling like they're listening to a Disney Channel soundtrack and it's not really for them. There's a clear groundedness in these songs that is lacking in a lot of music for and by teens these days (especially looking at you, TikTok...). All of their songs are literally the most tenacious earworms, yet I'm not annoyed to have them camp out in my mind.

Le Sserafim: Antifragile (2022)

At first, I didn't like Antifragile as much as Fearless because the track sequencing is just not as good: the mood changes from track to track don't feel as smooth. But all of the songs on their own are absolutely on par with their first EP's and add new textures that I enjoy. Particularly "No Celestial": it's heavily rock-influenced with a great melody and message, and the girls' vocals work very well with this style of music. Considering that their whole thing is being fearlessly themselves in the face of adversity and embracing supposed flaws, rock is the perfect genre to express this with. Even on Fearless, a song like "The Great Mermaid" had somewhat of a rock sensibility but not traditionally executed. For "No Celestial" they brought in the guitars and melody of a 2000s/2010s pop-rock song that just makes so much sense for them. The title track "Antifragile" is also really fun to listen to, going in directions I didn't expect (especially in the chorus). In general, they manage to make empowering songs that don't feel cheap and fake, which is difficult to pull off.

fav: No Celestial

Tomorrow x Together: The Name Chapter: Temptation (2023)

How does TXT manage to do something different on every album and have it still sound so quintessentially TXT? Every new album my first reaction is "Oh? This is different... hmm......." and then I get obsessed and loop the album for weeks. Temptation has been exactly the same. Title track "Sugar Rush Ride" is the most seductive they've ever been, with the way they use their vocals especially, which suits the theme of the album. It deals with the temptation to ignore all your responsibilities and just stay "Happy Fools" (eyy) but in the end, they realise that you can't live like that forever, and have to say "Farewell, Neverland". Something about the guitar and melody on that song specifically feels so familiar to me, but I can't pinpoint it... The biggest surprise to me was hearing an instrumental for "Devil By The Window" and finding out it's just a sparse beat for most of the song, with their vocals being the only thing to make the song sound full. They keep doing new and interesting things and I just need them to finally come to Europe on tour now...

fav: Farewell, Neverland (but seriously, all of them though)

Jin: "The Astronaut" (2022)

As a massive fan of both Coldplay and Jin's music, this song is everything to me. It's the perfect collaboration, especially considering they're fans of each other too and have both explored a more space-y theme in their recent music. Of course, this song is Jin's last release before he had to go do his compulsory military service, so it being full of so much love and melancholy makes it bitter-sweet in all the right ways. Did I go see Coldplay's Argentina concert in cinema just to see Jin perform this song? Yes, and I cried a little.

Red Velvet: The ReVe Festival 2022 - Birthday (2022)

Continuing the theme from their previous album of interpolating classical pieces into poppy tracks, "Birthday" uses a George Gershwin piece but makes it go all kinds of places in a very (recent) Red Velvet style. These days, some of their songs are a little much at first listen, but their vocals always, always, always tie everything together so well that I can't help but enjoy listening. The other songs on the album are a little less quirky and more classic Red Velvet with great vocals and interesting melodies. But I do keep wondering one thing: what does "oops we are on a ride" mean? How are you accidentally on a rollercoaster?? Or is it a metaphor for how life is a rollercoaster............. Anyway, of course I had red velvet cake on my birthday this year while listening to this album and it felt great.

fav: Zoom

Fujii Kaze: Help Ever Hurt Never (2020)

I found this album through such a weird way: Suga of BTS posted black-and-white photos of himself on his Instagram with his long hair in his face and people on Twitter said it reminded them of the album cover of a song that recently blew up on TikTok - Fujii Kaze's "Shinunoga E-Wa", so people started making Suga edits with that song. I liked the song and checked out the album and loved it and it's been on repeat ever since. Something about it reminds me so much of Jamie Cullum but if his songs were a little more interesting or at least his albums were a bit more diverse... Kaze's voice has a very soothing and rich tone and that coupled with the great melodies and instrumentation of his songs just makes me want to endlessly loop the album.

fav: Sayonara Baby

Seulgi: 28 Reasons (2022)

I honestly did not know what to expect from Seulgi's debut album but although it goes in several directions, it stays cohesive and suits her perfectly. It's dark in a different way than her album with fellow Red Velvet member Irene, Monster (2020), with a certain alluring quality. Most of the songs are very brash with Seulgi showcasing her vocal prowess, which makes the two songs right in the middle of the EP, "Bad Boy, Sad Girl" and "Anywhere But Home", stand out more, as they seem more understated, showing a different, less aggressive vocal style. Especially the latter is very reminiscent of a certain style of dance songs from the 2000s like Sophie Ellis-Bextor's "Murder On The Dancefloor" and Estelle's "American Boy" which I very much enjoy.

fav: Anywhere But Home

Adora: Adorable REbirth (2022)

I have been waiting for Adora's debut album since I first heard her voice in 2019 on Suga's "Seesaw" and then found out she's had a hand in making so many of my favourite BTS and TXT songs. Her first singles in 2021 and 2022 showcased her specific brand of quirkiness paired with stunning vocals, perfectly paving the way for this first EP. The single is literally called "Magical Symphony", which really encapsulates her vibe. Although she only produced about half the songs on the EP, they all sound so quintessentially her and showcase her vocal skills exactly like I'd always hoped. I'm excited to hear whatever she's cooking up next.

fav: CBGC

[dweetwise]

[Riconti] Good at pretending (part 15)

Warning⚠️: Mention of miscarriage Word count: 2.1k [previous] [next]

The wedding pictures took place a day before the actual ceremony. On one hand, it was good foresight to have a separate time and place dedicated solely to said pictures, especially since Felix suspected that the day of the wedding would be scheduled down to the minute. On the other hand, it meant that the wedding party and guests alike had to spend hours of a perfectly good Friday just posing stiffly to fill the bride's wedding photo album.

And Felix hated having his picture taken.

The hired photographer seemed way too enthusiastic about her profession. She must have taken hundreds of pictures; some of which featured the whole family, some only the wedding party, not to mention the obscene amount of photos that made no sense to Felix and seemed to consist of utterly random assortments of guests.

Still, he smiled through the group photos and tried to ignore Günther literally breathing down his neck from where he was standing on a bench behind Felix. Ace was a comforting presence next to him – and quite possibly the only reason Felix didn't elbow his uncle in the gut in irritation – even if Felix knew that their height difference was far from ideal for a good picture composition.

During the times they were not in pictures, Felix and Ace were expected to linger nearby. There wasn't really anything to do but obey and stand there twiddling their thumbs, but Ace made a running commentary of everyone’s unimaginative poses and fake smiles and that made the boredom a little more bearable.

"Look at 'em," Ace said. He nodded to where a few of the children were having their picture taken. "Reminds me of class photo day: that shit was always utter chaos. They should at least bribe the kids with candy or something."

The photographer and one of Felix's cousins were feebly trying to get the understimulated children to sit still. Felix smiled at the sight; no matter their parents' status or name, kids would always be kids.

And then Ace asked "How's your kid doing?" and Felix's whole world crumbled around him.

Felix swallowed the sudden lump in his throat and tried to breathe through the resurfacing memories. He dreaded having this conversation as the wounds had not yet healed, but it was only natural that Ace would ask. After all, the last time they had seen each other, Felix was returning home to Germany both excited and terrified of becoming a father.

"My child never made it into this world," Felix said.

His voice was barely above a whisper and his eyes were already misting. But when Felix braved a look at Ace, there was nothing but sadness and understanding in his big expressive eyes.

“Oh, god," Ace said, his face softening in sympathy. "I'm sorry. That's awful."

Felix nodded, not trusting his voice to stay steady. He looked back to the group of children bickering and squirming in front of the camera, his heart clenching painfully at the family he never got to have.

Ace stayed silent – giving him space to speak – and before he knew it, the words were spilling out of Felix's mouth.

"It was a boy," Felix said, his voice cracking. "We were going to name him Janos, for... after…"

"After you dad," Ace finished. "Shit, Felix, I'm so sorry."

"It's alright," Felix lied. He blinked wetness from his eyes and could tell Ace wasn't convinced. "A lot of people have gone through the same thing. Statistically –"

Felix's sentence cut off as Ace suddenly pulled him into a hug.

Warm arms wrapped around him and Felix allowed himself the comfort of relaxing into the familiar touch. Even though Ace was shorter than him, Felix had never felt as safe as he did in Ace's arms – both in the guest room bed and now – offering sympathy as soon as Felix had told him about his hurt.

“It’s okay to not be okay,” Ace said. “Doesn't matter what the statistics say. That's a horrible thing to go through and you need to give yourself time to grieve.”

Felix hugged him tight and buried his face in salt and pepper hair. “Thank you.”

They stayed like that for a long time, and suddenly Felix didn't mind that the photos were going so slowly.

═════════════ ♡ ═════════════

It was a good half an hour before they were next needed. Though Felix managed to collect himself relatively quickly, Ace stayed closer to his side than he had before in quiet solidarity.

When Ace began updating him on the latest gossip of their shared friends, Felix was almost relieved. It had definitely been good to talk about his loss with someone, but they still had two days of wedding festivities to go through and dwelling on Felix's grief would only make it awful for them both.

"– and of course it's Ash, calling me from the middle of bumfuck nowhere, Florida," Ace told with a grin. "Asshole's asking for bail because he got arrested for wrestling a gator or something –"

"We will now photograph the guests individually!" the photographer's voice carried over all other chatter in the garden. "Over this way, please!"

Felix noticed that Vanessa and the main wedding party had already taken their leave. His aunt and her boyfriend were the first to step up to the photoshoot, Agnes even managing a smile for the camera as she leaned into her partner.

"Come on," Felix said, nudging Ace's arm. "Just one more picture."

"Wait, what?" Ace asked, clearly confused. "Vanessa and Alex already left. Shouldn’t this be about them?"

“In a normal family, I would say yes,” Felix huffed. “But when certain people want to make an event all about themselves, it’s easier to give everyone a minute in the spotlight.”

He glanced pointedly at Bernard, who had already elbowed his way to the frontlines to be next in line.

“Huh. It’s been a while since I got my picture taken – the last one was probably a mugshot." Ace grinned in a way that left Felix guessing whether he was joking or not. "I'll need to bring out the best smile. Ooh, should we do matching poses? Finger guns is always a classic, but I don’t know if that’d go over well in this crowd –” Ace rambled on.

When their turn finally came, Ace excitedly bounced over to the photographer with Felix in tow.

“Do you want a picture by the fountain or the hedge?” the photographer asked.

“Fountain or flowers?” Felix translated for Ace.

“Let’s do flowers!” Ace said. “Uh, if that’s okay with you, of course.”

“I don’t mind.”

“Perfect,” the photographer interrupted. “If you stand there, please.” Her accent was strong as she gestured to the tall rose hedge.

Felix and Ace took their spots and stood next to each other facing the camera.

The woman behind the lens clearly wasn’t satisfied, as she made a shooing motion and gave Felix a sharp look. “Move closer to him.”

Felix reluctantly did as instructed. He wondered if he looked as tense as he felt; he'd always hated being in the spotlight like this.

The shutter clicked. “Put arm around each other.”

Ace’s arm wrapped around Felix’s waist, and his own awkwardly settled around the man’s shoulders.

Click.

“You, blonde – smile, this is not a funeral.”

God, Felix had forgotten just how much he despised being photographed. He forced a smile nonetheless.

Click.

“Now look at each other, not the camera.”

Felix had the sudden urge to throw the nearest object at the photographer.

But then Ace turned around in his arms, a dazzling smile on his face, and the urge for violence passed.

Click click click.

Well, whatever stupidly smitten expression was on Felix's face, the photographer seemed to like it.

“Now the portraits. Move closer.”

Ace obeyed easily enough, and Felix was struck by a sudden nervousness over having him so close. What if everyone noticed the tension between them and realized they were faking it, calling Felix out on his lies and kicking Ace out of the wedding –

Ace tugged on Felix’s jacket and effectively pulled him out of his thoughts. “Look.”

And then Ace scrunched up his face and stuck out his tongue in the most ridiculous expression Felix had ever seen him make, and Felix snorted out a surprised laugh.

Click click.

Surely, that had to be a thoroughly unflattering picture of them both. But Ace was now grinning up at him and even Felix was smiling, and hopefully they could look back on this photo fondly –

“Now the kiss,” the photographer commanded.

Felix recoiled and turned to look at the woman, scandalized. “The what!?” he sputtered.

“The kiss,” the photographer deadpanned. “Come on, you have handsome man in your arms, are you not going to kiss him?”

Felix looked down at said handsome man, about to ask for moral support on the ridiculousness of the notion, but Ace was only following the exchange curiously.

Smiling, Ace stood up on his tiptoes to whisper in Felix’s ear – masking it as kissing him on the cheek.

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Ace murmured low enough for nobody else to hear. His beard brushed pleasantly against Felix’s cheek and Felix tried not to shiver from the sensation. “But don’t hold back on my behalf.”

Felix ignored the click click as Ace pulled back and stared at Felix’s dumb face to see what he decided to do. And Felix had seen that look before: on the golf course and after the garden party, when Felix had been struck by the urge to do the very thing that the photographer was asking of them but had chickened out last second. 

But now Ace was giving him permission, like he knew exactly what Felix had been thinking about and had wanted it too –

Fuck it.

Felix lifted a trembling hand to cup Ace’s cheek – mindful not to obstruct the camera’s view – and paused to gauge Ace’s reaction. But Ace’s smile only grew wider the closer Felix inched to him, and before he had a chance to second-guess himself, Felix was leaning down to claim smiling lips in a kiss.

The furious clicking of the shutter was drowned out by the sound of blood rushing in Felix’s ears. The kiss was barely more than a chaste press of lips but it was everything to Felix; the slightly chapped skin of Ace's lips, the warm hand coming up to rest on Felix’s chest, Ace’s soft hum against him, it was a culmination of everything that Felix had wanted these last few days.

But all too quickly, the clicking stopped and Ace pulled away from Felix, and the moment was gone.

“Thank you. I got some good pictures at the end,” the photographer said, browsing through her camera. “I will edit them and the bride will send them to you.”

“Great, thanks!” Ace spoke up – which was a good thing, because Felix wasn’t quite sure he could manage to form words just yet.

With that, they were finally dismissed and Ace pulled him away from the group.

The walk back to the manor was silent and undeniably awkward. Felix wasn’t sure if he should bring up the kiss or not; this was definitely opening a huge can of worms Felix wasn't sure either of them were ready for. But even so, this was Ace, who had shown nothing but kindness even when faced with the darkest parts of Felix's life –

"When we get that last picture, we should send it to all the survivors without any context," Ace said out of the blue.

Surprised, Felix huffed out a chuckle. He could vividly imagine his phone blowing up with excited emoji spam from Cheryl and a litany of confused English cursing from David.

"Oh, I see," Ace grinned. “The renowned Mr. Richter of Richter & Golder has a mischievous streak.”

“Maybe.” Felix smirked the tiniest amount. "I was just imagining David's face when he received the photo."

"Ha! He’d probably punch me through the phone before giving his congratulations," Ace chuckled. "I think Jane would just straight up call you to offer her condolences."

"Right after Quentin called to demand my intentions with you, I assume."

"Pfft, like that's anything close to the shovel talk I'd get from Elodie," Ace shot back.

"Oh, god," Felix groaned. "She would gloat for years about being the world's best matchmaker."

"Hey, better that than stab me in my sleep with some priceless artifact!"

They shared a chuckle and continued with anecdotes of their friends throughout the walk back to the manor. Between the jokes and laughter, Felix caught sight of a soft smile on Ace's face and he suspected they were thinking of the exact same thing.

If something were to happen between them, all their friends would only be happy for them.

[hyvnjinns]

Hi! If I wanted to get into stray kids where should I start?

Oh my goodness anon, I'm so thrilled to receive this ask!! ❤️ Apologies in advance for the long reply ahead, and please don't hesitate to ever send in any other asks if you need clarification or have any other questions! I'm always happy to talk about Stray Kids ^^

I'd say the first place to start depends on whether you are already a kpop fan! If you aren't, it might be helpful--but not required at all!--to take a look at some guides to kpop to get an idea of what people mean when they talk about liners, generations, bias wreckers and daesangs. A good starting place is the kpopfairy carrd--it's a very good introduction to the terminology and culture you might encounter if you choose to become a more dedicated SKZ fan (side note: SKZ is the abbreviation for Stray Kids!).

In terms of getting into their music: a lot of their discography is heavily influenced by trap/EDM and even, notably, psychedelic trance (Side Effects--probably one of their most polarizing songs. It's incredible live though, I have to say). But even if those genres aren't quite your thing (they aren't always mine!), SKZ have one of the most diverse discographies in KPOP and almost certainly most Western groups. The music is almost completely self-produced by three of their members, and their lyrics often focus on issues like growing up and mental health. They have 18 albums + EPs + repackages in total, so the discography can be a bit overwhelming. I recommend watching their most popular title tracks--for instance, God's Menu (2020), the song about their unique musical style that catapulted them to fame both inside and outside of the KPOP circle. I also recommend a video that speedruns their songs across genres, like this one, to get an idea of their varied sound! As far as personal recommendations go, I love Phobia, Cover Me, Winter Falls, Haven, N/S, and SUPER BOARD. And, if you're into something a bit more...mature, Red Lights (a subunit song featuring only 2 out of 8 members) is their most-watched music video ever. Not only is the song amazing (and horny!), but the MV was directed by a queer Korean director who incorporates some kink elements in his work, and it's incredibly sexy. (And pretty rare to see something like that in KPOP, tbh.)

As is common in KPOP, Stray Kids have a lot of "variety" content--their SKZ-Talker series goes behind-the-scenes of award shows and when they're on tour, they sometimes do individual vlogs showcasing days in their life, and on and on! There's also their main variety show, SKZ CODE, where the content ranges from them solving murder mysteries, doing drag for an elaborate "SKZ Family" skit, or playing baseball. While all of these shows are hilarious and very fun to watch, they can be pretty overwhelming at first due to trying to tell everyone apart + reading subtitles while 8 men are shouting all at once! My biggest recommendation is to start by watching some fanmade Intro to SKZ videos like this one or this one. They're not entirely up-to-date (for one, Chan doesn't do Chan's Room anymore, which is tremendously sad), but they provide a great insight into the members' info and personalities. There's also this video which was a godsend when I was trying to figure out who's who! Once you feel comfortable enough with that, it is pretty easy to start watching some of their variety content, especially if you begin with individual vlogs where it's generally just one member!

I hope this makes sense and isn't overwhelming--I know it seems like a bit much since there's a huge amount of content from them! There's absolutely no pressure to consume all of it; I've been a fan for four years now and there's definitely still things I haven't seen and probably never will. Stays (the name for SKZ fans) are also by and large very accepting of casual fans who aren't hugely active within the fandom, and the SKZ Reddit in particular is really welcoming/drama-free with an entire weekly thread for new fans called "Baby Stays" where people can chat with others and ask questions. Have fun!! 💙

[sugadaily]

On tvN’s You Quiz on the Block, SUGA told stories from before his debut. The period of his life when he struggled with how to live off his music. SUGA and BTS have kept going and going for eight years, and now he’s on their grounds, where he can do anything he wants musically. What began with that long journey is the story of SUGA holding his head up higher and staring at the future, reaching for it.

How are you feeling after your shoulder surgery? You’re doing physical therapy in parallel with work. SUGA: I’m all right. I’m keeping up with the physical therapy, too. I had surgery last year because I wanted to be able to go back to work sooner. I have nothing else to do except music.

You said that there’s nothing for you to do other than music in the “BE-hind Story” interview on YouTube, too. SUGA: It’s true. I tried gaming, but I have no talent for it. The people I play with online get so frustrated if I do. I mean, I’m working hard and got some recognition in my life, and yet people bash me so hard in games. (laughs)

I wonder if there’s a game you can do better in than you do in your career. You’re currently at your sixth week at number one on the Billboard Hot 100 [with “Butter, at the time of this interview]. (laughs) How are you feeling these days? SUGA: When we were at number one for two weeks straight, I was like, Wow, this is so amazing! But after the fifth or sixth week, we really started to talk about it between ourselves: I really can’t believe this. Anyway, I feel like I have a responsibility. And I think I’ll end up thinking much, much more when we get ready for the next promotion. Even if I just try to enjoy this situation, it hasn’t sunk in. We can’t leave the country, plus there’s lots of issues in the world right now that are much more important than how well we perform on the charts.

As you say, it’s a tough situation, all over the world. How do you feel about releasing “Permission to Dance,” with its positive message, at this point in time? SUGA: It seems like everyone around the world is really tired of this situation dragging out. I wanted to convey a message that tells people to keep hanging on to hope until the very end. Whereas we released the album BE in this situation, seemingly without any certainty, I believe things will slowly get better now. I don’t know if we can go back to the way things were before, but I’m still working with the hope that we can return to a situation that resembles what we had before.

Aren’t you tired of the pandemic being in this prolonged state? SUGA: I look at it as, when you lose one thing, you gain another. I ended up being able to see my family more since I’m in Korea. In that sense, I feel more stable, so I’m not so much tired as hoping each day that things will become okay soon. I keep moving back and forth between work and home, and I’ve started to reflect on parts of myself I didn’t know about before. Like that I feel somewhat comfortable when I start and finish work at a certain time. While I used to have to go to bed at a certain time for work the next day or else I had a hard time getting up early, now I know I’ve figured out what time I should wake up at to make sure I feel good all day. What I pursue in life is emotional stability, and I don’t think there’s really anything too exciting or sad happening these days.

What effect do those emotions have when you work on music? SUGA: They don’t have a big effect on it. I think it affects the way I write lyrics a bit, but I’m not working on any lyrics at the moment. I’ve been making music for a long time, so I think it’s possible for me to express emotions I’m not feeling in the moment. And it’s good that we released “Permission to Dance” in this kind of situation.

You sing rather than rap in “Permission to Dance.” In addition to rapping, you started singing more both before and after BE. What did you learn about your voice? SUGA: “Permission to Dance” was a little bit difficult. I don’t draw a line between singing and rapping or anything, but it was different from our usual style, and the vocals were a bit high, too. So even though it took a while to prepare for it, I worked hard, and even when I asked some older musicians for their opinions, they all said, “It’s good the way you’re doing it. Don’t try to sing better—just sing more.” I think my only option is to sing more, like they suggested.

As far as style goes, you’ve been doing a smoother kind of pop music. Did any differences arise as a result of these changes? SUGA: All things considered, the English was the hardest part. I paid close attention to my pronunciation in “Butter” and “Permission to Dance.” It wasn’t easy to capture that smooth feeling in the songs, so I practiced my pronunciation quite a bit. And I end up breathing a lot when I’m doing an English song, but the rap parts were a bit hard for that reason. There’s a clear difference from Korean songs, since English has so many syllables. But I don’t have any one method I stick with for my vocals yet, so I tend to try lots of different things out.

What do you make of BTS’s achievements over the past year with “Permission to Dance” and “Butter,” as well as the group’s change in style? In the space of a year, you’ve released songs in a style different from MAP OF THE SOUL: 7 or BE. SUGA: As a producer, I think reactions are important to an artist who works within the field of popular music. With that in mind, speaking as a producer, “Dynamite,” “Butter” and “Permission to Dance” were the best choices. And musical tastes are different from country to country, and the cultures are different, too. Given that situation, I think it’s important that we’re a group who can send such a universal message out into the world.

BTS has really grown and changed a lot, starting with “No More Dream” and all the way to “Permission to Dance.” SUGA: I think it’s a natural course of event for those of us who make pop music. Artists mix and match different genres as they grow, and the music develops as the people of its time listen to it. I’ve been listening to a ton of music lately, and thanks to the times we live in, if I listen to a song a few times, they recommend me more songs in a similar style. And after listening to them, I realized the style of hip hop is also changing and is splitting off into different offshoots. Other than hip hop, I also listen to a lot of instrumental music. I’ve always liked Hans Zimmer’s music. There have been many times where a movie I like turns out to have music by Hans Zimmer.

What is it about Hans Zimmer’s music that draws you in? SUGA: I like orchestral music. There’s a lot of pop songs that are under the three-minute mark now, and whereas it’s sort of predetermined that they’re always written with intros that are four bars long, orchestral music can do a lot within its framework.

But, as can be seen in IU’s song “eight,” which you both produced and featured on, you broke out of pop music’s typical composition style and tried out a highly condensed progression. The composition of the chorus is very straightforward. SUGA: Yes. I insisted that the flow be roughly cut in half from that of a typical song, and I expect more pop music will be like that in the future. And maybe even shorter as time goes on. I mean, these days there’s songs that are under two minutes, even.

Regardless, I felt the chorus in “eight” is extremely dramatic with its structure and the melody of the chorus. I thought it was rather grand in scale as well. Would you say that you’re attempting to mix your tastes and things you want to do into the structure of pop music? SUGA: As you know, I love hip hop, so when I was first making music I thought it had to be hip hop no matter what and that I had to take pride in my own ideas and not accept any compromise. But while getting some experience at the forefront of pop music, I figured out that you can keep being stubborn or inflexible because there are people listening to you. There was a time I made music without any listeners before I became a member of BTS. But if someone were to ask if I stopped being stubborn about the music I’m making these days, the answer’s no. As I grew up and became an adult, I came to realize that I have to negotiate between what I want to do and the kind of music the public wants without compromising anything. When I give up on something I wanted to do, I ask myself, What will I get out of this? And conversely, when I want to do something, I ask myself, What can I get out of this? That’s how I keep my balance to make it to where I am now.

You have no choice but to think about those things when you work on other artists’ songs, especially when you’re a producer. SUGA: I’m BTS’s SUGA, and I’m Agust D, and when I’m producing, I go by “by SUGA.” But when it comes to by SUGA, I make perfectly commercial music. I’m the producer for those songs, sure, but the owner is someone else, you know? In that case, they’re commissioning my work. But they wouldn’t think about just leaving it all with SUGA. The artist’s label has to think carefully about whether to commission me for producing and consider my situation, too, and those people must be hoping for something commercial. That’s the most important part of working with outside people. Actually, that kind of work isn’t much of a benefit to me, to be honest. Oh, he can write this kind of song, too. That’s all. The more valuable thing I can get from it is the recognition and records the artist or the company will get with the song instead.

As you noted in your previous Weverse Magazine interview, when you discussed your “interest in the music industry in the US,” you seem to constantly think about the things artists can do within the framework of the music industry. SUGA: I don’t know. It’s just that I’ve become more certain since the pandemic started that I’m the kind of person who always has to be doing music. That much I know for sure, so I want to keep on making good music. And the pop music market is something that came about because there were people listening, and there’s a long history to the US music market, and it possesses the most influential charts in the whole word. So then I thought, Wouldn’t they have gone through all the same things that we have? And really, whenever I talk to other pop stars, the situation is always similar. The US is also more realistic about commercial results than any other country. I wanted an accurate picture of how those people work. Right now, Korean pop music’s spread is in full swing and we need more good artists to keep popping up. From a producer’s standpoint, if that’s going to happen, I think the key is how well we can mix our music and the characteristics of overseas music industries overall.

How did it feel to be in the lineup for the Grammy Awards, one of the icons of the US music industry? SUGA: The feeling was less immediate because we couldn’t be there in person, and it wasn’t a huge distinction, but the performance made me think, This is different, because it’s the Grammys. What changed my view from the first time I went to an American music awards ceremony was, the first time I went, I was really scared of the world’s biggest music market. But when I look back now, I don’t think I had any reason to feel that intimidated. To be honest, I have only now begun to enjoy the awards ceremonies; I wasn’t able to then.

It’s no exaggeration to say that you’ve achieved most of the things that you can as an artist in the music industry. What steps do you think are necessary for the artists who follow after BTS? SUGA: The way artists work seems so difficult. They make an appearance on a different music show every day once the promotional period begins, meaning the exhaustion artists face is enormous, and that fatigue often results in injuries as it adds up. That kind of music show is for promotional purposes, so it’s not like the artists can earn a proper income from them. On top of that, despite all the promoting, there’s no visible outcome, so they inevitably lose morale. If possible, it’d be nice to have one of the performances be really high-quality, even if it’s just the one, but in this environment I’d say that’s pretty difficult. And since our job doesn’t fit the common conception of work, there’s ambiguous boundaries when it comes to issues of legal protection as well. We need a lot of improvements to be made to the industry and its system.

They demand a lot of things as collateral for success, yet success is extremely difficult to attain. SUGA: The great thing about the label I’m with is they listen to the artists’ opinions. I think both we and the label know to a certain degree what kinds of activities would be best commercially speaking. But the question is whether the body can endure it or not. If the fatigue builds up as you continuously do those promotional activities, it’s hard to do them the way you did when you first debuted. In that case, I think the label ought to actively accommodate the artist’s views about what they can and cannot do. An attitude that’s just like, Oh, we made you kids, and as long as you just do what we tell you to it’ll all work out, so just do it—I think that really doesn’t make any sense. Of course, there could still be situations where the label has to be pushy like that, obviously. But I heard there’s been times where a label will just say, Do it, without any explanation to the artist, or, Why are you talking so much? I think that’s the biggest issue and it’s destroying the industry. If you just see the artist as a product, how can they do anything creative? I really think it’s very contradictory to ask the people on stage to put on an enjoyable performance when they’re experiencing neither fun nor enjoyment.

That reminds me of the music video for “Daechwita” somehow. You appear onscreen as both a rebel character and a king, looking as different as your situation when you first debuted with BTS and your situation now. SUGA: There was a lot I wanted to do in “Daechwita,” not just musically but also visually, and a lot of ideas came to me as I came to reflect on who I am as a person while working on the music video. It naturally occurred to me to separate SUGA, by SUGA and Agust D. The character I played in that video who wasn’t the king was a stranger. It takes place during the Joseon era, but then there’s cars and guns, which of course don’t belong in that era. I think we’ve been living our lives that way. Right from our debut, a portion of the hip hop lovers criticized us by saying, They’re idols. But at the same time, we heard things like, They’re not idols. I didn’t know which drumbeat to march to, so I think that’s why each of our albums took a different direction than people were expecting. But I don’t think I can call myself a stranger in this situation anymore. So these days my main goal is to keep going with BTS for a long time. Having a huge audience show up at our concerts is nice, but I think the goal for all of us is to make sure the group can keep making music even as we get older. I think right now we’re thinking a lot about how we can have fun and be happy on stage.

What do you mean when you say fun and happy music? SUGA: I think people are happier the busier I am, so lately I’ve been thinking that I need to focus a little more. I figure we should do as much as we can for ARMY since they feel happy watching us. We’ll continue to try our best, so I hope they believe in BTS and keep their eyes on us.

So that’s why you do music. SUGA: This is the only thing I know how to really do. Other than music and BTS, there’s nothing special about me when I look at this 28-year-old Min Yoongi. That’s why I want to keep doing this.

[the-bau-quinjet]

But with you, it’s different...

So, I’ve combined two of my great obsessions: Criminal Minds and Taylor Swift. Pretend the reader is Taylor Swift in the sense that she wrote and recorded the songs, but that’s it. Also, the songs are all out of order and not from the albums so just pretend that’s okay. I don’t reference the albums, but individual songs and yeah. It’s honestly kind of a mess, but also makes me happy. This is part 1! I have most of it written, so I should be able to post the other parts pretty soon. I think there will be 3 actual parts and then a short epilogue! Last thing, Spencer is a little out of character. I (try to) explain that later!!

Summary: Reader is a famous singer with a murderous stalker. Spencer has to go undercover to protect her. 

warnings: mentions of murder, anxious reader

Word Count: 7940

You weren’t expecting anything out of the ordinary to happen tonight. It was just the usual Saturday night. Honestly, you were looking forward to having a boring two weeks off. You absolutely loved touring and performing and seeing your fans, but it was going to be great to have some time just to write again. Writing music has always helped you de-stress and get your emotions out, and you were supposed to finally have a chance to do just that. However, the universe had different plans. Plans that involved the FBI.

This was your second night in DC. It was the first of some of the bigger cities on your tour where you were doing two shows, so you are even more exhausted than normal. You really only just started the US leg of your tour, but the two weeks off was well earned from the Europe, Asia, and South America legs.

 As you begin to perform the second to last song, you start to feel the familiar sadness you get when finishing a show. It’s almost as though the adrenaline rush from the excitement of so many screaming fans is wearing off and you can’t help but feel a bit sorry that the fun is coming to an end. After so many performances though, you’ve learned how to hide the emotions and give the audience your best fake smile. The last song is where you have some real fun, so just make it there.

 As you duck off stage to change for the final performance, you can’t help but notice the small group of people conversing, quite tensely, with your security team. They don’t look like the normal fans who would try to sneak backstage, too official. You make eye contact with one of them. He looks to be about your age, but you’ve never been great at guessing. There’s something about him that makes you want to find out exactly who he is right now, but you can’t. 

You’re left wondering about his identity as you run back onstage for the grand finale. You feel a genuine smile appearing as you feel the heat from the fireworks and listen to the happy cheers from the crowd. You’re last song goes off without a hitch, but you’re exhausted. There’s nothing you want more than to just shower and sleep, but there’s always a buzz about the cast and crew that prevents anyone from leaving right away.

 “Thank you for a great second night DC! Goodnight!” You shout into the mic as you duck back offstage to ride out the post show high. You are still chatting with some of the dancers you’ve become friends with when Carrie, the head of security, comes up with one of the men you saw arguing with her earlier.

 “Y/N? Can I talk to you for a minute?” You turn, surprised to see the stern man standing behind Carrie. “Yeah, sure.” You turn to excuse yourself from the dancers, wishing them a goodnight before turning back to Carrie.

 “We can go do your dressing room, that’s where the others are waiting.” Carrie says with a nervous smile on her face.

 “The others?” You ask confused, jogging to keep up with the brisk pace she has set for you and the stern man. “Who are we talking to?”

 “I’m sure you have a lot of questions. We will explain everything as soon as we meet up with the rest of the team.” The stern man spoke quietly, but with confidence as he followed behind you and Carrie. Before you could ask anything else, you were being ushered into your dressing room, coming face to face with the other two people you saw arguing with Carrie earlier. The first one you notice is a woman with jet black hair and fierce eyes. The other is the tall, lanky man you made eye contact with.

 You’re a little excited to get a closer look. He looks a little awkward at first glance, but you can tell he’s a sneaky sort of attractive underneath the perfectly placed tie and the comfy cardigan. Before you can get too caught up in how good looking these three strangers are, you turn to the stern one and ask “Who are you, and what are you doing here?” Your tone clearly indicates the confusion you’re feeling. 

 “Ms. L/N, my name is Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner. I am the Unit Chief for the Behavioral Analysis Unit at the FBI.” You can feel your eyes go wide as he shows you a badge with his picture and title. Before you can respond, he begins talking again. “These are SSAs Emily Prentiss” the woman gives you a reassuring smile and slight wave, “and Dr. Spencer Reid.” The sneakily attractive one nods his head in your general direction.

 The woman just introduced as Emily chimes in “we are here because we believe there is a killer targeting fans of your music. We have been tracking murders for the past two weekends. The first was in Louisville, Kentucky, then Columbus, Ohio, and then two right here in D.C.”

 “I was just in Louisville… and Columbus.” You feel yourself beginning to get dizzy as you try to comprehend what the agents are telling you.

 “Yes, and now you’re in DC.” The boss man is talking again. “We made the connection this afternoon as you had two shows here in DC.” The room is starting to spin as you listen to the man talk. “After more digging, we found each victim had purchased a ticket to your show. Additionally, they all had social media accounts dedicated as fan pages to you.” Agent Hotchner continues speaking as you nod along, trying to comprehend how this was happening. You don’t even realize you are tuning him out as you begin to sway on your feet. You can see his mouth moving, and the growing look of concern on his face is the last thing you see before the world goes dark.

 --

 You can hear a faint beeping as you begin to wake up. For a moment, you are blissfully unaware of the murders before the memory of meeting the three agents comes back to you. You instantly sit up and look around, trying to figure out where you are. You can see a very muscular bald man through a window, talking to someone in scrubs.

 Scrubs. A nurse. You are in the hospital.

 Your heart rate begins to calm down before skyrocketing again when you hear “Ms. L/N?” from the other side of the room. Turning with wide eyes and a scared expression, you throw your arms up to defend yourself from the unknown voice.

 “Sorry! Sorry, uh- I didn’t mean to scare you! I’m Dr. Spencer Reid.” Instantly you relax again at the familiar face. You drop your arms back to the bed, shifting into a more comfortable position before asking “Okay, Doctor. What’s wrong with me? Why am I in the hospital?”

He looks at you with a sheepish expression, rubbing the back of his neck before he admits, “Oh, I’m not that kind of doctor. I’ll go get a nurse or someone. Try to think back on what you remember before waking up here.” He shuffles out of the room as you try to replay the conversation with the other agents.

 Well, it wasn’t much of a conversation with them doing all of the talking, but still. The unknown man from outside your room window and the nurse he was talking to come into the room with Dr. Reid. The nurse begins checking your vitals as she asks you some questions.

 “Hi there. It’s good to see you up. How are you feeling?” She wears a small smile.

 “Oh, um, I feel fine. I think. I’m just confused about how I ended up here. I remember talking to the agents at the arena, but that’s it.” You close your eyes as you try to remember more, but nothing comes to you.

 “That was only about 45 minutes ago, dear.” The nurse’s kind voice helps settle you. “You fainted while the agents were talking to you. They brought you here. You should be good to leave in a few minutes as long as your vitals are good.”

 “Thank you.” You return her kind smile as she marks information on your chart before leaving the room.

 “Ms. L/N, this is SSA Derek Morgan.” The Doctor Agent is talking again.

 “Please, call me Y/N.” You rub your head, continuing to try to remember more about your condition. Before either man in the room can speak up, a new thought occurs to you. “If I fainted, why doesn’t my head hurt? The floor in my dressing room is not soft.” You look between the two men for an explanation.  

 The doctor shifts his weight from foot to foot a blush appearing on his face as Agent Morgan speaks up. “That is because Pretty Boy over here” he claps a hand onto the doctor’s shoulder “caught you before you hit the ground.” “Oh, um… Thank you.” You can feel the blush beginning to form as you think about his arms being around you.

 “It was no problem, really. Can we ask you a few questions?” He moves on quickly. “Oh sure thing Dr. Reid. Or Agent Reid. Agent Dr. Reid?” You can feel the blush growing as you ramble.

 “Just Sp-Spencer is fine.” He cuts you off before you can continue suggesting different honorifics. “What do you remember from what Agent Hotchner was telling you?”

 “He said someone was mur-murdering fans of me.” Tears spring to your eyes as you think about it. “That someone was killed in Kentucky and Ohio and then two people here in DC.” You squeeze your eyes shut, willing the tears not to fall.

 Get a hold of yourself.

 You feel a new weight on your hand before hearing Spencer begin talking again. “Take your time.” You open your eyes to see him patting your hand delicately. He moves back after you take a few deep, calming breaths.

 “I’m sorry. I just feel awful knowing people are dy-dying because of me. Is there anything I can do to help?” You choke on the words a bit, realizing the full gravity of the situation.

 “Do you recognize any of these people?” Agent Morgan pulls out photos of three women and one man, handing them to you to sift through. He seems to be staring at Spencer, but you just focus on the pictures. You can feel the tears building again as you realize who they are.

 “I do.” You take another breath before continuing. “I haven’t met them before, but they are all really active on different social sites. I try to talk to as many fans as I can ya know? They are why I am where I am. Is that why they were killed? Oh god. No no no no.” Your breathe increases in speed as you think about everything that is happening.

 “Hey, hey, hey, none of this is your fault.” Spencer is patting your hand again as he tries to calm you down. Just then, the nurse comes back with some paperwork for you to sign in order to leave.

 “You are free to go Ms. L/N. Just sign these forms and hand them in at the desk on your way out.” She exits the room swiftly.

 “Would you mind coming back to our office to finish talking?” Agent Morgan asks.

 “Of course not. Anything I can do to help.” You turn in the forms before following them to a black SUV. Spencer opens the door for you to get in the back before he slides in next to you. You don’t even have the brain power to consider why he isn’t sitting in the front. You just grab his hand and squeeze it, unable to get the thoughts out of your head that this was all your fault.  

 “This is not your fault. You had no idea what was happening, and now that you do you are trying to help.” Spencer looks at you reassuringly as he squeezes your hand right back. You simply nod back. You don’t trust yourself to speak without crying. You just need to calm down before you get to the office.

 About 15 minutes later you pull up to the FBI building that houses the BAU. They must’ve brought you to a hospital near Quantico. They lead you through security up to the fifth floor. You walk through a set of glass doors, passing a few desks before entering a conference room. “Do you need anything? Coffee, water?” Spencer asks as Agent Morgan leaves the room.

 “Oh, um, no I’m okay for now.” You stare at your hands as you go to sit down. “Actually, could I get a jacket or something?” You gesture to what you’re wearing as you ask. You haven’t had a chance to change yet, meaning you are wearing a black, sequined romper that is basically a leotard with how short it is. Perfect for performing, but not exactly FBI attire. “Of co-course! I’ll be right back.” He practically runs out of the room.

 A few minutes later, he pushes the door back open. “Here’s some clothes you can change into if you want. Or just a sweatshirt.” You look up from your position in the chair, rising to take the clothes.

 “Thank you.” You look from the clothes to him realizing you need to change, but are in a room full of windows in an unfamiliar building.

 He catches on a few seconds later, leading you out of the room. “The bathroom is this way!” He squeaks out as you both walk down a hallway outside the glass doors you came in. “I’ll wait here to show you back.” You smile as you brush past him, whispering thank you as you close the door.

 You instantly take off the romper, sliding on some FBI sweatpants and a matching sweatshirt that smells like vanilla and new books. The scent is oddly comforting. You would think a standard FBI sweatshirt would smell new, but this scent is calming your nerves. You fix your makeup as best you can before heading out of the bathroom. Spencer is a few feet away talking to a beautiful blonde woman. She looks effortlessly gorgeous. She smiles as she notices you, waving you to join them.

 “Ms. L/N, it’s lovely to meet you, although I do wish it was under better circumstances. I am SSA Jennifer Jureau, but you can call me JJ. The rest of the team is waiting for us to join them.” She smiles kindly, but you are frozen in place. You feel like a deer caught in the headlights.

 Spencer grabs your arm lightly, pulling you out of your trance. “It’s okay. Just breathe.” He whispers as the three of you start walking back toward the conference room you were in earlier.

 He lets your arm fall back to your side before guiding you back into the room behind JJ. You freeze again upon entering the room. You recognize Agents Hotchner, Prentiss, and Morgan, but are surprised by the other two faces. There is an older man with salt and pepper hair smiling kindly at you. He reminds you of your father. Then there is a very bubbly blonde, in a very colorful dress and matching glasses.

 They introduce themselves as SSA David Rossi and technical analyst Penelope Garcia. The unit chief begins to describe the case again, going slower this time given your earlier episode. “We believe the unsub is targeting fans of yours who he believes is unworthy of your attention. He worships you and views his victims as people who are not devoted enough to you.”

 You can’t decide how to respond, so you wait for another agent to continue. “Do you know of anyone who might be overly obsessed with you? Maybe they sent you letters that were a bit more personal than normal?” At this point, you decide you are done being controlled by this situation. What happened to those people is awful, but you can’t change it. You need to be strong to help prevent it from happening to anyone else.

 “I haven’t finished my fan letters from this week yet. I try to go through as many as possible, but there is only so much time in a day.” At this point you are pacing. Walking around has always helped you with thinking things over. “There is one letter that sticks out from three weeks ago. That was before the murd-” you stutter on the word. “Before anything happened though. Could that be relevant?” You ask, looking hopeful. If the agents are surprised by your change of attitude they don’t mention it.

 “It might be. What did it say?” Agent Hotchner asks, the same stern expression adorning his features.

 “I don’t remember all of it, but it looked like it was written on a typewriter, so it stood out. It said something about how they wondered if my hair smelled like peaches after I finished a show. I thought it was weird because my shampoo is peach scented, but how could they possibly know that? I figured I must have met them in passing, you know. I meet a lot of fans just walking around the different cities. Something just felt weird about this letter though. Like a bad feeling. I mean, my hair doesn’t really retain the scent of my shampoo all that much. So how could he know that unless he knew what shampoo I use? But actually, I use a personalized shampoo so I can change the scent every time I but it- it must’ve been a lucky guess, right? Maybe I just look like I would use peach scented shampoo” You feel like you are talking a mile a minute, but you can’t get yourself to stop. You practically fall back into your chair as you finish rambling about the letter, looking up to see unmistakable expressions of concern on the agents’ faces.

 “What? What does that mean? Oh god- How does he know my shampoo smells like peaches?” You look between all the agents as they seem to be communicating with just their eyes. You resort to taking calming breaths again. They’ll fill you in eventually, you need to breathe. You drop your head between your thighs as you push your chair away from the table. Breathe in for 7 seconds, hold for 7, and breathe out for 7. This always helps calm you down before a show.

 You choose to ignore the agents quietly talking to each other again as you focus on slowing your heart rate back to a normal pace.

 “Ms. L/N?” You look up exasperatedly, “Please, just call me Y/N.”

 “Then you can call me Penelope!” The woman has such a kindness to her that you can’t help but smile back at her.

 “What can I do for you Penelope?” She seems a bit surprised, but she responds in kind.

 “I just wanted to ask if you wanted some coffee. Or water or anything?” You smile at her kind gesture, rising from your seat.

 “Actually, some tea would be wonderful. But, please, let me come help you. These guys seem like they need to talk and it would probably be easier if I wasn’t in the room.” You smile as you walk out the door, leaving the agents slightly stunned at your observational skills in your distressed state.

 Penelope follows you out and leads you to what you assume is the break room. “We don’t really have much tea, but I know where the good doctor keeps his private collection.” She whispers conspiratorially as she searches through a small cabinet. “Aha! Here it is.” She presents you with a pretty impressive collection of teas. You opt for the simple peppermint. You have always found peppermint tea the most soothing.

 She hands you a mug before gesturing to the Keurig on the counter. You place the teabag in the cup, selecting the largest cup on the machine, and brewing hot water for your tea. The two of you don’t say anything while it steeps. Penelope speaks up when you move to sit down at the small table.

 “I just have to say, I am a huge fan of yours.” You can’t hide the smile that forms on your face. You have always loved meeting fans. They are just so sweet and you appreciate them beyond belief.

 “Thank you so much!” She seems a bit relieved at your response. “That’s honestly so nice to hear right now. I kind of feel like a mess.” You gesture to the oversized clothes you’ve got on.

 “Please, you look so gorgeous right now. It’s amazing. Your music is amazing too. I absolutely love Begin Again! It’s so romantic!” She gushes over the song.

 “Honestly, that one took me forever to write. I was in a pretty bad place after a bad breakup, convinced I would never love again. Dramatic, I know.” You roll your eyes at yourself. “But then I saw these two people in a café, and they just looked so happy. The idea of a new love forming so casually right in front of me was beautiful.” You smile thinking about the couple, wondering if they are still together.

 “Wow, so you can really right about anything?” She looks while asking the question.

 “Pretty much. I mean, they won’t all be good. It could be the tiniest moment or a huge thing in my life. Inspiration comes from everywhere. A lot of songs actually draw from multiple experiences, not just one thing. I could totally see myself writing a song about you.”

“No way! That would be insane.” You smile at her enthusiasm.

 “I’m serious! You just give of this energy that is so positive, it’s hard to remember ever being sad. I think it would be about how confident you are. Something like…” you trail off as you begin to hum, setting up your phone to record. “You’re the only one of you, baby that’s the fun of you. And I promise that nobody’s gonna love you like me!” You hum a few more bars before ending the recording.

 “That was insane. How do you do that?!” She has a wild kind of excitement in her eyes.

 “I don’t know. You just inspired me.” You grin at the shocked expression in her eyes.

 “Sing it again!” And you can’t help but give her what she wants.

 You hum a bit more of a melody that could work before jumping into the words you already said. You add a few more here and there, but nothing concrete. In your focus on singing, you don’t hear the door open behind you.

 “I’m the only one of me, baby that’s the fun of me. Oh oh oh. You’re the only one of you, baby that’s the fun of you. And I promise that you’ll never find another like me.” “I don’t doubt it.” You turn in shock to look at the person behind you, seeing none other than Spencer Reid in the doorway. You don’t notice the flush of embarrassment on his cheeks that you heard his comment, just like he doesn’t notice the matching expression on your face. Penelope though, she notices. And, she can’t wait to tell Derek.

 Spencer clears his throat before speaking again. “We’re ready for you to come back in if you’re up for it. We want to talk to you about a plan to keep you safe.”

 “Sure thing.” You grab your tea from the table before you and Penelope follow Spencer back to the conference room. You sitting cross-legged in your seat. You feel much calmer after chatting with Penelope. Song writing has always been cathartic for you, and it is reassuring that hasn’t changed.

The agents waste no time getting down to business. “We believe the unsub has broken into your tour bus. If the letter was from him, it would explain how he knows about the peach scent.” Agent Rossi starts.

 Agent Morgan continues, “It’s an easier target than a hotel room or your personal home since fewer people would be securing it.” You nod along with them. You are determined to stay strong through this.

 “We want to completely ensure your safety, so we think it best to send an agent to stay with you while we work on the case.” Agent Prentiss chimes in. You feel like you’re going to get whiplash looking between all their faces.

 “Since we haven’t ruled out people on the crew, we want this to remain as secret as possible. We will inform the head of security on your team, but other than that the agent will be undercover.” Agent Hotchner, stern as ever, appears to be studying your reaction.

 “Okay.” You sigh. “Okay, I can handle this. I’ll be fine. I’ll have an agent with me. Who’s going undercover? Do you have a cover story planned?” You look at Agent Hotchner with nervous eyes.

 “We wanted to plan the cover story with you to make it as believable as possible. What are you planning on doing for the next few weeks?” You consider what your plans consist of. Honestly, nothing but songwriting.

 “I plan on mostly working on songwriting. I usually go to cafes, parks, or anywhere really with people for inspiration. If I already have an idea, I’ll write from my hotel room or from home if I’m there. If any of you have any musical experience, then we could make up a cover story about a new writing partner. Nobody would really question it because I write with new people all the time.” You glance around the room to see if anyone is willing to take you up on your offer. Nobody says anything for a minute. They are communicating with looks again.

 Penelope chimes in “Reid knows how to play the piano!” You can’t help but latch on to the statement as you turn toward Spencer.

 “Really, that would be so helpful! I normally write to piano or guitar and then add any additional instrumental later in the studio. If you can play, then the story would look even more believable!” You are actually getting excited about this idea working out. You finally feel like you’ve helped them with something. They probably could’ve figured it out without you, but still.

 “Yes, I can play. I mean, it’s just mathematics if you think about it.” Spencer responds quietly, like his mind is somewhere else.

 “Reid, if you feel comfortable with it, that story sounds like great cover.” Reid nods at Agent Hotchner. “Great. You can go to your place and grab some clothes and anything else you’ll need.” He says to Spencer before turning his attention to you. You watch as Spencer walks out with the rest of the team before turning to meet Agent Hotchner’s eye. “It’s best if we stick to your plans as closely as possible. If the unsub is someone who works with you, he will likely notice if you start changing your behavior too much.” You nod in response, mentally going through everything you do from day to day.

 “Agent Reid will stay with you in your hotel room if you are comfortable with it. That is the safest arrangement since he will be close by if anything happens. We will also have agents tail you when you go out in public. We’ll have a rotation of agents in the rooms around yours each night to allow Reid to rest as well. He knows how to contact us, but we will program our numbers into your phone as well for backup. Do not hesitate to call any one of us if something feels even remotely wrong, no matter the time. Do you understand?”

 Again, you nod in response. It’s a lot of information to take in and honestly, you’re still thinking about sharing a hotel room with Spencer.

 “We will need to see the letter you mentioned earlier if you still have it. We would also like to go through the fan mail you currently have and any new mail that comes in. If you see anything else that feels off or seems suspicious, tell Reid or call one of us. If you remember anything else, tell Reid or call one of us.” He gives you a questioning glance to ensure you are following.

 “Basically, tell Reid everything. Got it.” You try to remain lighthearted even though Agent Hotchner’s serious expression hasn’t waned in the slightest.

 “It’s good to see you’ve got a good attitude about this. It’s hard to remain calm, but it will help limit any suspicion on the part of the unsub. We don’t want to escalate his plans. Do you have any questions for me?” He gives you a reassuring look as you contemplate everything he’s told you.

 “What does unsub mean?” you blurt out, surprising both of you. “Sorry, that was loud.” You cringe. “I just meant, why do you call the criminal, unsub?”

 You can see the faintest of smiles on his face as he replies, “Right, we can get pretty wrapped up in a case. It stands for unidentified subject. We try not to assign nicknames or anything to the perpetrators as it can affect their behavior.”

 “Right. Behavior.” You try to sound like you understand, but honestly this is so much different from all the detective shows you’ve seen. Apparently, Agent Hotchner notices and explains more.

 “We catch criminals by analyzing their behavior and trying to predict what they’ll do next.”

 “Like psychology? Nature vs. Nurture and mental disorders?” You ask, suddenly very curious about how this all works.

 “Yes, just like that, although we normally go a little deeper.”

 “So what can you tell about this unsub? That way I know what to look for.” Agent Hotchner seems pleased with this question.

 “The unsub is a man, likely 25-40. Age is the hardest thing to predict, so don’t follow that guideline too strictly. He likely suffers from antisocial personality disorder stemming from negligent parents and has always had trouble interacting with people. He is highly organized, which usually indicates high intelligence, but in this case could be due to the time he spends alone planning. His lack of social skills has resulted in him only working menial jobs. He won’t have worked anywhere for more than a few months before finding a new job since people find him odd or off-putting. He has always felt as though he deserves more because of his self presumed high intelligence. It is possible you met him in passing and any act of kindness toward him resulted in an obsession with you. He doesn’t have the courage to approach you, so he watches from afar or online. That’s how he found his earlier victims. Since you don’t have any shows in the next few weeks, his MO might change slightly. That’s why we want to be so cautious and make sure we can ensure your safety.” You sit quietly for a moment, trying to picture anyone who fits the description. You try to meet the people who work with you, but you certainly don’t know everyone. You were honestly hopeful the description would point you toward a suspect, but you’ve got nothing. “I can’t think of anyone like that, but now I know what to look out for. Thank you Agent Hotchner.” “Please, call me Hotch. Do you have any more questions?”

 “Just one, you said earlier that maintaining a sense of normalcy will prevent us from escalating his plans. What plans exactly?” You were nervous to ask this question, wondering if you really wanted to hear the answer.

 “We don’t know exactly. It is possible the unsub has been trying to work up the courage to talk to you, but since you won’t be doing shows, it is unclear how he would make contact. Reid and the other agents will be looking for anyone who appears to be in a lot of the same places you are. If you notice anyone more than one time in a day, don’t hesitate to-“

“Tell Reid or call one of you. I got it.” You smile at him again. “Thank you again.” He nods as you both exit the room. Spencer isn’t back from picking up clothes yet, so you aren’t sure exactly what to do. Penelope notices you searching the room and waves you over to her. She is talking with Agent Morgan.

 “Y/N! I was just telling my Chocolate Thunder about the song you started earlier. I just need to know, what does this fine specimen inspire you to write?” She sounds so excited you can’t bear to let her down. You study the man in front of you, searching for something to sing. You don’t know why, but there’s a certain sadness in his eye. He hides it well with his masculinity and the clear smirk on his face, but you know he’s been through some shit.

 You don’t want to kill the mood though, so you stick to something a little lighter than past pain. “Well, Pen, I have to say he looks like a heartbreaker.” This only encourages the smirk on his face. “The type to love ‘em and leave ‘em.” You have had a song in the back of your mind for a while so why not break it out now. Penelope shrieks as you start humming, drawing a crowd. Again, you set up your phone to record. The rest of the BAU agents crowd around Morgan’s desk as you start singing.

 “Magic, madness, heaven, sin, saw you there and I thought, oh my god, look at that face. You look like my next mistake.” That draws a few chuckles as you continue humming. More words pop into your head as you think about past relationships and what the media loves to say about celebrities. “Screaming, crying, perfect storms. I can make all the tables turn. Da dada da da, Keep you second guessing like, Oh my god, who is she. I get drunk on jealousy.” You hum some more, really getting into the flow of the song. “Cause darling I’m a nightmare, dressed like a daydream.” The group claps as you end the recording.

 “That was actually pretty impressive.” Agent Morgan smirks at you some more.

 “Well, to be honest I’ve had the melody in my notes for weeks, but I just couldn’t think of the right words.” Yet again, his smirk grows.

 “I guess I’m just that inspirational.” You choke back a laugh as you roll your eyes. You hadn’t realized the size of the crowd you had garnered. You can’t help but knock him down a few pegs.

 “You know what, I changed my mind. Agent Morgan’s song would be called I Knew You Were Trouble.” The entire group laughs at that one, but all the sudden you actually have another idea.

Before long, Penelope is asking you what songs you would write about the entire team.

 “Start with Hotch!”

 “Well, Hotch is so serious. So it’s kind of hard. His face just screams ‘I’ve been through it and dealt it out’. Maybe something like… your string of lights is still bright to see oh, who you are is not what you did, you’re still an innocent.” Even as you half sing it, the one line feels like it could lead somewhere big. It’s not quite right, but it’s a start.

 “That’s so cool. Do me next! And please, just call me Emily.” You nod at her as you think back over your previous interactions.

 “Alright, don’t get mad but something just popped into my head and I can’t un-hear it. They say I did something bad, then why’s it feel so good. Most fun I ever had, and I’d do it over and over and over again if I could.” The smile on her face told you everything you needed to know, but so did JJ.

 “You absolutely nailed it. That is Emily to a tee.” JJ chimed in. “I’m kind of scared to see what you can come up with for me!” Your head is swimming with lyrics and melodies, but it has been so long since you’ve had this much fun writing music with a group of people. It’s become such a solo activity for you, but these people just have so many stories to tell.

 “Okay, let me think.” You pause as you observe JJ. You can tell that she is such a sweetheart from the few hours you’ve known her, but you know you would be intimidated if you went to high school with her. “Sorry to be blunt but, you’re so gorgeous, I can’t say anything to your face. Cause look at your face.”

 “Why thank you!” JJ smiles as you defend the lyric choice.

 “I know you are so sweet and I of course don’t mean to say you are just a pretty face, but you really do have a pretty face.” The group chuckles again and nods in agreement. “Oh, wait! I’ve got another one. You took a Polaroid of us, then discovered, the rest of the world was black and white. But we were in screaming color.” That one came out of nowhere, but it felt right.

 “Beautiful. Okay, okay! Rossi’s turn!” Penelope says right as the man walks out of his office.

 “My turn for what?” He looks skeptical of the group, but in a loving way.

 “Y/N is coming up with song ideas for everyone! She just did Morgan, Hotch, Emily, and JJ! She did mine earlier. So it’s your turn!”

 “Well then by all means, be my guest.” You close your eyes as you think through the words swimming in your head.

 “While, Rossi, you have a kind aura. You seem like a parent to this group of rowdy children. Reminds me of my dad.” Again, the group laughs. You begin humming, lightly patting the desk in front of you as you think back on memories of your own parents. “I don’t know why all the trees change in the fall, but I know you’re not scared of anything at all. Don’t know if Snow White’s house is near or far away, but I know I had the best day with you today.” This tune was softer than the rest, more emotional. Everyone stops laughing as they listen to the soft melody you created.

 “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to kill the mood.” You feel slightly awkward with the new found silence.

 “Please, bella, that was beautiful. You really know how to read people.” Rossi hugs you as you blush, thanking him for the compliment.

 “That only leaves the resident genius. What would you write about Reid?” JJ poses the question and suddenly all eyes are on you. In all the commotion with the other songs, you didn’t notice Spencer exit the elevator. He walked in soon enough to hear the question. Deciding not to interrupt the conversation, he hangs back to listen to your answer.

 You can feel the blush heating up your face, subconsciously hugging the sweatshirt he gave you to wear earlier. After all the short melodies and lyrics you’ve come up with, you are way too tired to put your feelings toward Spencer into words.

 “I’ll be honest, it’s been in my head all night.” You begin to hum, knowing this would be a song about how you felt when you first saw him backstage, to when you spoke to him in the hospital room and all the little moments since then. “Your eyes whispered have we met…” you fill in for lyrics you’ve yet to write by humming. “All I can say is it was enchanting to meet you.”

 “That was beautiful.” Spencer says from behind you. You jump in surprise, nearly falling out of your chair. You didn’t even realize he was in the room.

 He looks sheepish as he apologizes for scaring you. “Are you ready to go?” He asks, reaching out a hand to help you up. The rest of the profilers share a knowing look as you rise from your seated position. They all wish you a goodnight as you and Spencer enter the elevator to head to your hotel. The ride to the parking garage is quiet. You keep humming that same melody, looking for the right words to fill in the blanks.

 Spencer leads you to another black SUV opening the passenger side door for you to get in the car. He tosses his bag in the back before getting in and starting the drive.

 “Penelope said it was my turn, did you do songs for everyone?” Spencer beaks the silence. You turn in your seat to look at him before responding.

 “Kind of. Mostly just ideas of songs. Morgan’s was the most put together, only because it was a song I already started. I recorded the whole thing though. That way I won’t forget any ideas. I can play it for you when we actually start to write some music!” You are honestly surprised by the range of ideas you have.

 “Wh-what? You actually want me to help you write songs? I th-though that was just a cover.” All of the sudden Spencer seems nervous and shy. You put the ideas swimming through your head on pause so you can devote all your attention to him.

 “Spencer, don’t worry about it. You don’t have to come up with any profound lyrics or brand new chord progressions. But, since we are going to be spending a lot of time together, you do have to talk to me. Otherwise it would just be weird.” You try to lighten the mood. You can tell by the way he relaxed his shoulders it worked a little. He nods in agreement as he parks the SUV in the garage dedicated to the hotel you are staying in. You take the elevator straight up to the 11th floor. It’s honestly reassuring to be able to lead him somewhere after everything that happened in the past few hours.

 You dig around in your bag- that somehow followed you on your journey from the arena to the hospital to the FBI building and now back to your hotel- to find the room key. No matter what you try, you can’t seem to slide the key card into the slot in the right way. Every time you try, the little light glows red before beeping indicating the door is still locked. After the fifth try, you are about ready to scream.  

 Suddenly, you can feel the heat from Spencer’s body as he slides up behind you to take the room key. He slides the card into the door, wiggles it around, and then slides it back out. To your surprise, the light glows green and the door unlocks. You must be exhausted to be this shocked at the fact he opened the door. You can’t even seem to force your feet to move. You just stand there like a fool, mouth agape.

 “Why?” Spencer turns to look at you with a confused expression. “Why couldn’t I… How did you…?” You just point to the door. He places his hand on the small of your back, guiding you into the room. He places his bag just inside the door before he turns around to close the door and lock the deadbolt.

 Even after he led you into the room, you turned around so you could keep staring at the door. You don’t even realize you started crying. Spencer guides you to the bed and tucks you into the blankets. You know that you are going to wake up in an hour because you never sleep in pants, but you just don’t have the energy to fight him on it. He turns off the lamp, but before he walks away, you grab his arm.

 “Can you stay?” You have never heard yourself sound so frail. You squeeze your eyes shut, willing the tears to stop. Spencer looks conflicted, but ultimately sits down next to you, his back against the headboard. You lay next to him in the dark, not quite touching. Once your breathe calms enough that you can talk without bursting into tears, you ask “how do you do it?”

 “Do what?” You smile at the sound of genuine concern in his voice.

 “How do you deal with this kind of stuff all the time? I feel like I’m falling apart. I want to be strong about it, so I can help. But then all of the sudden I can’t keep it in anymore. I just… how do you make it seem so easy?” You feel sniffly again, but you try to focus on your breathing.

 “It’s not easy. I hope it never becomes easy. It’s gotten easier, of course, but the minute I stop feeling everything is the moment I let them win. To feel pain in situations like this is human. Somebody wise once told me our best defense is our ability to empathize. It’s a completely natural reaction to experiencing something so traumatic. 70% of adults in the U.S. have experienced some type of traumatic event at least once in their lives. That's 223.4 million people. It would be...” He trailed off.

 “It would be what?” You angled your head up to look at him even though you couldn’t see him in the dark.

 “Oh, it’s nothing. I tend to ramble. I’m sorry.” He sounded so dejected, you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching for his hand. You had to shift on the bed a bit to reach his arm, so you ended up leaning your cheek against his thigh, tossing your arm over his lap in a sort of make shift hug.

 “I like it. It’s calming… and informative.” You couldn’t help but smile into his leg. “People who complain are just jealous.” That actually makes him laugh, but it doesn’t sound like a happy kind of laugh. More like a self-deprecating one. “I’m serious. You are clearly smarter than everyone else is, and you are sneaky attractive. There is a lot to be jealous about.” You dig deeper into his lap as you squeeze his hand in yours. The last thing you remember before falling asleep is the feeling of Spencer running his free hand through your hair.

--

You wake up slowly, eyes adjusting to the dark. You can just make out the numbers on the bedside clock to be 4:37. You must have fallen asleep talking to Spencer. Your head was still resting on his lap, his hand in your hair. You untangle yourself from the sheets to rid yourself of the extra layers that woke you up. It takes a few minutes of digging around in the dark to find one of the t-shirts you normally sleep in. In that amount of time, Spencer, still sleeping, rearranged himself to be laying on the bed rather than leaning against the headboard. You stopped for a minute to observe his sleeping form. He looks so at peace compared to the furrow of his brow and the glint in his eye that normally mean he’s thinking too hard.

 As soon as you lay back down in the bed, Spencer gravitates toward you. Before long, your head is resting on his chest, his arms wrapped around you. You breathe in the scent of vanilla and new books; the rhythmic pattern of his chest rising and falling lulls you back to sleep.

Part 2

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@mac99martin

[weelittleweasley]

Muggle Music | Draco x Reader

Prompt: As a muggle born Hufflepuff you find comfort in your muggle music and books when you are feeling anxious or insecure. Although Draco has been known to have a distaste for muggles or of muggle descent, however you when it comes to you, his opinions change.

Warnings: angst, fluff

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: Hi all! So sorry I haven’t been as active this weekend. I took the time to relax and have a little fun and unwind before things get crazy work wise with me. Hopefully I’ll be back to pumping out fics again by tomorrow!

You delicately place the record on your player that is perched happily on top of your dresser as music starts to play as the record spins. The sounds of the familiar verses and chorus melt away any anxieties that were plaguing you through the day. Stevie Nicks’s voice washed over you as you allowed your body to sway gently to the music. 

Being muggle born wasn’t something you normally worn with a badge of pride at school. You were a little embarrassed that you never grew up around magic and its brilliance, rather you grew up with the mundaneness that was being ordinary for so long. But nothing could quite cheer you up like listening to muggle music or reading a good book that your mother bought from the book store. It was simple, but it never failed to make you feel at home, swallowed with warmth and comfort through these tiny vessels of your muggle upbringing.

Aside from not growing up with magic and missing out on the portion, you were also embarrassed of being a muggle especially because of who you were dating. Everyone and their mother knew that the Malfoy lineage was strict about marrying pure and only having children that would be pure bloods. You had been dating Draco for only a couple of months, but you did feel insecure about his dating history and how it has only been with pure bloods. You were the first to break that streak. Draco didn’t expect to fall for you, but when it happened, it happened fast and every thought he had about you not being a pureblood washed away. But there was always that little voice inside his head that spoke, What would mother and father think about this?

You swayed to Fleetwood Mac, trying to keep your negative thoughts at bay about how scared you were that Draco was going to break up with you because of your blood status. Earlier that day you had heard Pansy Parkinson gossiping to her posse about how Draco deserved to be with a pure blood and not some “mudblood” like you were. When you heard the words fall from her mouth, you wanted to cry. She was right. Draco deserved someone who would make his family proud and you would not do that. 

You didn’t even notice the tears falling from your eyes until they ran across your lips, the salty taste on your tongue. Rhiannon softly played in the background as you wiped your tears away with the backs of your hand. This was such a silly thing to cry over, but you couldn’t help but feel the way you did. Your insecurities were getting the best of you again.

Suddenly, a gentle few knocks come from your door. You suck up your sniffles and wipe what remains of the tears away. Glancing in the mirror, you check your appearance before opening the door. And there he stood. Draco in his Slytherin robes, his white blonde hair combed back, and sneaky little smile. He pulled you in for a tight hug by your contrasting Hufflepuff robes, breathing your scent in as you relaxed under his touch. “Good afternoon, darling,” Draco squeezes you, planting a kiss on your forehead. 

“Hi,” you mutter into his chest before pulling away, letting him inside your room. 

Draco enters, plopping his bag down at your desk. He contorts his face and says, “What is that?” as if to be disgusted by the music you are playing. Your heart sinks gently into your stomach as his face looks confused. 

You feel like your insecurities are now sticking out like a sore thumb. The things that bring you comfort make Draco contort with disgust. “Oh, sorry,” you quickly rush to your record player and turn off Fleetwood Mac as Landslide gets cut off. Too bad, that was your favorite song on that album. “It was my music from home. Mum gave me a few albums to take with me if I ever needed a taste of home. I didn’t know you were coming over or else I wouldn’t have played it.”

Draco suddenly grows disappointed in himself. Something you had loved so dearly and had such fond memories attached to was something he was taught to deplore. His disgust with all things doing with muggles made you upset because you were muggle born. Which in turn, meant he was supposed to hate where you came from. How could hate someone as lovely, considerate, and gentle as you? It would be impossible. “Don’t apologize. It’s your room, you play whatever you want. You can keep playing it if you want to,” he urges, hoping that you’ll play the music again just so he can see you happy, dancing along to whatever rhythm played from the odd machine you tinkered with.

Shaking your head, you insist, “No, I don’t want to play it anymore. It’ll just make me sad.” Sad because you miss home and sad because you know that Draco and you come from two separate worlds and he hated yours. Or so you thought. You chose to ignore the sad smile on Draco’s face. “Let’s change the subject, shall we?”

As you talked to Draco about your plans for the upcoming weekend in Hogsmeade, he couldn’t help but be distracted by his own thoughts. He hated knowing that you were uncomfortable and insecure of your muggle history. He hated that he was conditioned from such a young age to have a distaste in those things thanks to his father’s upbringing. Draco’s heart strings were strung any time he noticed you shift in your seat when someone bought up not being of pureblood descent. You would get very quiet and minutes later excuse yourself to go somewhere else away from the people who had insulted you in passing. He knew he wanted to make it up to you, but it was just a matter of how he would do it. 

----

A few days later, you parked yourself at a table in the library, studying and doing homework quietly, scribbling down in your notebook every once in a while. As you jot down notes, you didn’t notice Pansy pass your table. “Studying hard mudblood?” she coos sarcastically at you.

“Please leave me alone, Pansy,” you quietly plead. You just needed to study. That was all. You didn’t need to be reminded of all of your insecurities in the middle of the library for everyone around you to watch your discomfort.

Pansy leans on the table. “Why? Because Draco can’t defend you?” she spits. “I’m still shocked that he’s with a loathsome creature like yourself. Aren’t you embarrassed? You’ll never quite live up to his or his parents expectations? I mean, what’s going to happen when you meet his parents? Let’s see if you even make it up to that point.” 

Tears start to prick in your eyes as you attempt to swallow the lump in your throat. “Go away, Pansy,” you speak gently, no malice in your voice even though you had wished there would be. 

“Am I talking about a sensitive topic?” she asks, knowing damn well what sees doing. “Admit it, (Y/N). You’re no good for Malfoy. You and your little muggle music and muggle books. You’ll never be enough for him.”

With that, you gather all of your stuff and dash out of the library, the laughs of Pansy echoing in the library. As you turn the corner, you bump into the person you wished most not to. “Hi, love,” Draco speaks, happy to see you until he sees the hot tears streaming down your face. “Hold on, wait a minute, what’s wrong?” he grabs your arms, looking at you in the eyes.

You shake your head, “I have to go.” You push past your boyfriend, running out of the library, completely horrified of what just went down. Running down the halls and up the stairs, you try to avoid the stares of concerned students and passing, (Y/N), are you okays. You just wanted to get back to your room.

Opening the door with a swing and then slamming it shut, you inhale a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. You were away from Pansy now and her torturous comments. Looking to your desk, you know exactly what you needed no matter how much it reminded you of your past. You grabbed another record from your stash that you tucked away in your drawer and plucked Queen from the pile. As you placed it on your record player, the sounds of the Jazz album filling your dormitory, sending soothing waves of comfort through you, drying your tears instantly.

Meanwhile in the library, Draco marched over to Pansy, steam bellowing from his ears. Pansy’s smile fell as she saw the pissed boy. “I don’t know what you said, but to be quite frank, Parkinson, I’m not surprised it was something rude and selfish, much like yourself,” Draco spit at her.

Pansy rolls her eyes, “Come on, Draco. You know better than anyone that you don’t belong with a mudblood. You need to stick with your own kind.”

Draco’s blood is boiling. “First of all, you know shit about what is best for me, Pansy, so I’d suggest keeping your fat nose out of my business. Second, muggle born or not, (Y/N) is a brilliant, beautiful person who is a better witch than you will ever be. If I even sense you close to (Y/N) again, consider yourself done for,” Draco scolds Pansy as her face turns parchment white. 

After his little meltdown, Draco leaves the library. On a mission to find you and comfort you after what just happened. 

In your room, you lay on your bed, listening to your muggle music, as you glide your fingers over the binding of your favorite muggle book, The Scarlet Letter. Maybe Pansy was right? You should just stick to your muggle things and stay away from what is muggle born. It would be for the best. 

Your thoughts are disturbed when you hear a knock at the door. You groan, emerging from your position on your bed. The door opens and there’s Draco who wastes no time in scooping you up in a hug. “Don’t listen to her,” he speaks into your hair. “She has no idea what she’s talking about. She is jealous.”

“But she’s right, Draco. I’m a dumb muggle born who doesn’t belong in your world. You were destined to hate me and everything I come from. It should stay that way before things get too complicated,” you try to reason with him as Draco shakes his head in disbelief. “You’ve only dated purebloods, Draco. Ever since we got here, you’ve dated purebloods and purebloods only. I haven’t dated anyone and Merlin, it’s year six! Now, my first ever boyfriend is not supposed to like people like me.” 

Draco’s heart breaks hearing you talk about yourself like this. “You mean someone who is considerate? Someone who is compassionate? Someone who loves people for their hearts?” he retorts as you ignore him. “(Y/N), I don’t care if you are pureblood or not. I want you and you only.”

Your heart should be swelling with joy, but it only makes it break. “I need to be alone right now, Dray. Please,” you whisper, holding your face in your hands. “Just leave me be for right now.”

Everything is screaming for Draco to stay and work this out with you, but he knows you need some space. He just shakes his head and leaves your room sadly. When the door closes, you don’t hesitate in letting the tears fall again. 

-----

Potions class was finally dismissed as you walked alone in the halls, trying to distance yourself from everyone, to scurry away in your room, curling up into your bed while listening to more muggle music, wishing you were home with your mother and father and siblings. 

Draco hadn’t come to talk to you since the library incident two days prior. He didn’t even bother trying to find you when your class took the weekend trip to Hogsmeade. You figured that he was out of your life for good and no matter how much you wanted him to stay, you knew it was best for the both of you. The relationship wouldn’t have worked out anyway. It was best for you to part separate ways.

As you approach your dormitory, you hear the faint chorus of Paul Anka’s Put Your Head On My Shoulder coming from the other side of your door. Your eyebrows furrow. Did I leave the record player on? I don’t even have that record though? You push the door open to reveal a Draco standing the middle of your room, Paul Anka playing on your record player. “What are you doing?” you ask him right off the bat.

Draco has a small smile on his lips. “Doing what I should have done when I asked you to be mine,” he claims as he grabs your hands. “When we took the trip to Hogsmeade this weekend, I bought some muggle records they had in the back of the shoppe as well as some new books for your collection,” he points to three large stacks of records and books on your desk as a smile threatens to spill on your lips. “I should have made an effort to learn about what you grew up with. But better late than never?” he suggests as you engulf him in the most enormous hug you can muster. Draco laughs as you squeeze him tight, his grip on you iron. “I took some time to listen to some of your favorite records and I stayed up all last night reading your favorite book.”

“You read The Scarlet Letter?” you ask in disbelief. The surprises never stopped when it came to Draco. He proudly nodded. “I can’t believe you would do all of this for me...this is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

Draco’s heart swells with pride. “It’s what you deserve,” he simply states. “Now,” he extends his hand to you. “Will you join me for a dance?”

Giggling, you accept his hand as the two of you rock gently to the sounds of Paul Anka on your record player, gazing into each others eyes as you smile like an idiot. “I can’t believe you sometimes, Malfoy,” you shake your head. “What do you think of it? The music, the book?”

“To be honest with you, it’s not half bad. The ABBA album is pretty good,” he shrugs, making you laugh wildly, throwing your head back. “Now that’s music to my ears,” he refers to your laughter as you blush. 

For the next few hours, you and Draco listen to your new albums he purchased for you as you lecture him on muggle books and authors, him smiling wide as you speak passionately about them. Although Draco knew his father would have a field day when he heard about this, he couldn’t care less. You were happy and that’s all that mattered to Draco.

[himitsu-luna]

Headcanon

✿｡♡Jaemin as your husband ♡｡✿

Jaemin is the type of husband that shows everyone he is your husband. How? "This is my spouse. Beautiful, right?", he tells anyone who talks to him randomly, even if no one asked anything// He is always bragging about his wedding ring and showing it to everyone, especially when he feels there's someone that has second intentions over him or over you// He keeps all the photos of your wedding in his phone, so he can tell the story of you as a couple everytime he has the chance to do so - "Have I ever told you how I met Y/N? Oh yes?! Four times? Ohh maan, I still remember it clearly.. I was there and..........." - and continues the story for the fifth time to the same person.

Speaking of pictures, he likes to take hundreds of photos of you. And at the end of every year, he prints every single one of them and builds an album with your special moments.

He frequently has a look at these albums, and afterwards he acts even more caring towards you than he already normally acts

He is extremely caring and nurturing, and there's no one in this entire world who would take better care of you than him.

He worries about the things you worry. Your matters are his matters. He reminds you of your schedules, of taking your medicine, of the birthday of that third degree aunt of yours you don't actually talk to anymore, but that he knows because he basically knows literally your entire family.

And speaking of family, your family simply love him. Since the first meeting, Jaemin just snatched everyone's hearts. He values and treasures your family sincerely.

He is a gentleman, extremely respectful, and treats you like royalty.

He happily cooks for you. And he is very considerate even with the food. He knows everything you can't eat, everything you dislike, and even asked your family about the recipes you grew up eating, so he can still cook them for you.

He has at least ten different nicknames for you. "Sexy" is his personal favourite, used with moderation at family gatherings though. I'm sorry, I had to do that xD

He is the touchy touchy type of hubby. Of course he will always respect your boundaries, but he likes it so much to feel you close to him, not only emotionally, but physically too.

Hugging, kissing, cuddling, holding hands, giving massages are his favourite things to do with you.

He also loves to act all flirty with you. Your flirt battles are insane.

When you go out with your friends, ohh well, they definetely feel like a third wheel. The amount of attention and love he gives you even in public is truly enourmous.

You often catch him looking at you intensily. It's still easy for him to get lost in your traits, even after years of marriage. He gets very distracted around you, and people always pick on him because of it.

If there's something he enjoys better than time alone, that would be time alone with you. He easily easily trades any night out with friends or any event for a good calm day with you. Just the two of you, watching a movie, talking, sleeping all cuddled up, that's the paradise for him.

He is very observant, and he knows all of your details and expressions. He is able to notice the slightest change in your mood just by seeing a tiny different muscle contraction in your face.

He has a very comforting and reassuring touch. He doesn't need to say anything to make you feel better and safer. When you're sad or feeling down, just looking at him and receiving his embrace make you feel that everything is going to be alright.

He is the type of person who doesn't impose his opinions, thoughts or beliefs over you. He is a good listener, hates conflicts, and is pretty much understanding, open minded and goes with the flow.

So, he being able to read your moods + he being very chill and understanding = a peaceful marriage.

If he nags or gets angry at you, it's because you probably are not taking care of yourself, or because you're doing things that will not end up nicely for you. In these cases, he doesn't hesitate in giving you a good talk. When he is angry, he can act either really emotional or really cold. And it can be intense. But that's because he cares a lot about you.

He is a little protective, especially when it comes to your feelings. No one who dares to hurt you will get away with it. He makes your enemies his enemies. He death stares anyone who he knows have some problem with you. It's honestly quite frigthening.

Your house would be pretty simple, large, kinda monochrome, decorated mostly with neutral colors.

If you want to, you two would definetely have a dog as a pet. He would insist for you to adopt one, actually.

He is the romantic type. Not that type that would do big extravagant things though. But he routinely does some cliché things in a small scale. For example: bringing you a very simple breakfast in bed whenever he can; buying your favorite flower on his way home; lightining candles at an ordinary dinner just to make something different; carrying you from the sofa to the bed while planting hundreds of kisses on your face.

He can't sleep without telling you he loves you. Even when he goes to bed first, he will sense you laying beside him and will say half asleep "I love you". It's a habit now, but it's not banal at all. He means every word he says.

Overall, Jaemin is that type of husband that gives you that strong feeling of family. You found your home in his arms. You are truly loved. You won't ever feel you have to do things alone anymore. You proudly say "This is my dear husband". And he, even more proudly, repeats "Yes, I'm your dear husband".

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

•° Anon, thank you for the request! I hope you like it! <33

•° taglist - @starrdustville @mairah-shaikh @mairahshaikh @cupidluvstarrz @kpopsnowball @kaepopsicle @purplepsycho03 @najatheangel @dundun-baby

* If you want to be added to or removed from the taglist, just send me an ask or a message (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

•° Masterlist

...

[lululawrence]

lululawrence’s May 2021 Fic List

Previous Fic Lists / Fic List Podcast Masterpost

May somehow managed to escape my grasp and here we are again! I got a weekend away from the kids this month, which allowed me the chance to finally read for hours on end, and I therefore have quite a few fics to talk about! They were truly amazing, I loved every single one, and I hope you appreciate them too!

If you’d like to hear me share my excitement about these fics verbally and in more detail, you can listen to this month’s podcast here.

As always, be sure to show your love and appreciation for all of the hard work our fandom authors have put into their fics with kudos, nice comments, and (when applicable) reblogging their fic posts!

Just for Tonight (I can be yours) by @sadaveniren / SadaVeniren (42k, E, Harry/Louis, Big Bang fic, A/B/O, Royalty AU, Alpha Louis, Omega Harry, Innocent Harry, Sheltered Harry, Arranged Marriage, Friends to Lovers, Angst with a Happy Ending, but HOW DO THEY GET THERE?? lol, Mpreg, Heat/Rut, Poor as shit sex education lmao, Okay but for real the world building in this was incredible, I can still see the pictures in my mind that I conjured up for certain parts of this fic, It is incredible and the PINING AND ANGST OMG)

reckless serenade by @thepolourryexpress /  thepolourryexpress (4k, E, Harry/Louis, Girl Direction, This one is a bit hard to explain lmao, ....Non-Established Relationship.... relationship, it makes sense in the fic lol, clueless idiots in love, there we go, friends to lovers, humor, fluff, This is beyond sweet and fucking sexy)

a little tenderness by @disgruntledkittenface / disgruntledkittenface (11k, NR, Harry/Niall, 1D A/B/O Fest fic, Alpha Harry, Omega Niall, Touch Deprivation, Nesting, Cuddling, Scenting, Ace Harry, Fluff, Okay listen this fic was so fucking soft I cannot express to you, It was HEALING, I cryyyyyy it was just so beautiful)

What if I'm someone you won't talk about? by @louloubabys1992 / louloubaby92 (58k, M, Harry/Louis, Fine Line Fest fic, Song Fic, Based on Falling, Famous/Non-Famous, Childhood Sweethearts, Exes to Lovers, Kind of but not really at the same time?, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending but there’s fucking angst okay? lol, Hurt/Comfort, Sex Work, Exploitation, References to Rape, PTSD, There’s a lot of dark shit in here, please please please read the tags and keep yourself safe, But if you can handle it then fuck it was an fascinating story for sure!)

When Least Expected by @all-these-larrythings / Rearviewdreamer (22k, M, Harry/Louis, Quarantine Fic, Single Parent Louis, Teacher Harry, Mentions of Depression, Online Dating? Kind of?, Maybe it’s more like Long Distance dating, except they’re in the same city, anyway, Pining, Flirting, Oblivious boys, Soft, This fic was the epitome of soft, It was so incredibly healing to read it, So cathartic and beautiful and lovely, It just made me so happy and at peace reading this fic, and I really didn’t expect that from a quarantine fic tbh)

so c'mon c'mon (and dance with me baby) by @rockstarlouis / theweightofmywords (3k, NR, Harry/Louis, New Year’s Fic, Meet Cute, Louke are together at the beginning but it doesn’t last long, Work Party, but neither Louis or Harry work there lololol, Humor, Drinking, Dancing, This fic was just so short and sweet and fun I loved it)

Pound Cake by @kingsofeverything / kingsofeverything (2k, NR, Harry/Louis, Butthole Series fic, Hurt Louis, Sad Louis, Harry’s birthday, Friends to Lovers, Crack fic lmao, Misunderstandings, This fic was so funny but also somehow sweet, while still being about buttholes, Lauren is a magician what can I say lol)

Get Burned By the Fire by Anonymous (13k, NR, Shawn/Niall, Heartbreak Weather Fest fic, Song Fic, based on Small Talk, Bartender Niall, Mysterious Shawn, Casual Sex, I think that’s how you’d define their arrangement? lol, Pining, Harry and Louis are together and Niall’s besties and coworkers, They’re hilarious through all of this, Even though it’s casual sex or meant to be anyway, It defo is also like... a Breakup Fic, and also Exes to Lovers, Supernatural Elements, It’s all complicated and sooooo fucking gooooood)

The Shooting Star Of Promises And Fears by darkpoets (2k, NR, Harry/Louis, Soulmates, Wishes, This fic is incredibly hard to explain or describe, because the style and feel of it is incredibly unique, It feels almost floaty while you read it, if that makes sense)

Getting a Room by bluespring864 (2k, G, Lewis/Niall, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Idiots in Love, Banter, Listen this fic is short but packed to the brim with feels, omgggggg SO MANY FEELS, and so so lovely the way it comes together, but also hilarious too?, it’s just very THEM, I could also hear all the lines Lewis says in this fic in his accent, I heard his voice speaking them in my head, and I was trying so hard not to laugh out loud as I sat reading, surrounded by strangers lmao, It was so awkward but worth it)

Caves End by @jacaranda-bloom / jacaranda_bloom (40k, E, Harry/Louis, Big Bang fic, Famous/Non-Famous, Farmer Louis, Rancher Louis is maybe better?, I’ll put both cause Dee said farmer lmao, Footballer Harry, Australia fic, Horseback Riding, Angst, Miscommunication, Dee’s tags about that are hilarious please read them, Hurt/Comfort, This fic is just EVERYTHING, okay, It was so incredibly good)

and all I think about is you and safer by your side (parts 4 and 5 of where the lights are beautiful) by @polkadotlou / twoshipsdrifting (1k each, T, Harry/Louis, Alternate Universe, A/B/O, Alpha Harry, Omega Louis, Established Relationship, Mentions of Heat, Drabbles, Listen this whole series is amazing, and if you haven’t read it then these drabbles won’t have the same power they do otherwise, but they are SO DAMN GOOD OKAY)

Counterculture by @sadaveniren / SadaVeniren (6k, E, Harry/Louis, Omega Harry Fest, A/B/O, Omega Harry, Alpha Louis, Famous/Non-Famous, Underground Clubs, Pack Dynamics, Scenting, Public Sex, Orgies, Pregnancy and Lactation Kink, Like... this fic is FILTHY while still having super cool worldbuilding elements in it, and it’s kinky as shit cause Sada, In other words this is fantastic)

Say Something by @kingsofeverything / kingsofeverything (105k, E, Harry/Louis, Alternate Universe, A/B/O, Alpha Louis, Omega Harry, Older Harry, Age Difference, Heat/Rut Partners, Friends to Lovers, Kind of?, It’s Complicated lol, MPreg, Divorced Harry, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Harry has a lot of shit to work through, It all works out and it’s so fucking good)

The Until Series by @allwaswell16 / allwaswell16 (62k total, Harry/Louis (parts 1 and 3), Niall/Shawn (Part 2), Big Bang fic and Heartbreak Weather Fest fic, Song Fic, Seriously the whole albums is basically the inspiration lol, Cowboy Harry, Child Actor Harry, Cowboy Shawn, Songwriter Louis, Singer Niall, Farm Fic, Enemies to Lovers, Misunderstanding, So good just all of it, Dumb boys in love lol)

That Smile and That Midnight Laugh by @uhoh-but-yeah-alright / yeah_alright (50k, T, Harry/Louis, but also Harry/Nick at the beginning, Big Bang fic, Girl Direction, Based on Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, It’s like an extension and starts where the movie ended, So cool in that way I loved it, Grimmy and Louis are step-siblings, Friends to Lovers, No Cheating if that’s a concern, Sexuality Crisis but it’s more of like a Gay Awakening, Coming of Age story in that way, So freaking soft like omg, I just really freaking loved this fic)

[sorry-i-ship-drarry]

After all this time, always the same

Prompt used- kissing the top of other's head| harry and draco finally meet each other years later at a memorial gallery, discovering some buried promises |

" I actually did not know Colin was this good " Harry said impressed as they walked the gallery

" really, who knew that kid was really good " Ron hummed.

" i miss that kid " Harry said as he drown in reminiscents of everyone who died in the war

" I am sure it would mean a great deal that you're here Harry. He always looked upto to you, he lived a nice life " Denis smiled at harry before he departed to he other batch of visitors. It was almost 10 years after war when one day a bunch of Hogwarts student's had received an invitation to the colin memorial gallery. Dennis, his brother had managed to construct certain photographs Colin had taken before he died and decided to put it into his memorial. Apparently Colin always wanted something like that, but his gallery Would've been incomplete if the people he had photographed had not shown up, so this was the reason why a bunch of Hogwarts student's had been given a free pass as a contribution to his memory. Harry was however saddened by the absence of colin. After all this time he still misses all those who died a lot. He learnt it the hard way that he will probably never forget any of them but he can manage to live with it.

It was however surprising how amazingly brilliant Colin's skills were. Nobody knew he had even taken their pictures secretly and it were all too great.

" hey, theres us " Ron said a little too loudly, much to anyone's liking. Harry gave them all a small apologetic smile before he joined Ron to see the photograph hanging over the wall of him, Ron and Hermione.

" seems like a different era, doesn't it ?" Ron nostalgically said.

Hermione nodded besides him as she put her head over Ron's shoulder. 10 years and they're still in love like they were when they were kids. Harry had always been fond of their relationship, not because it's his friends but because of everything it was built upon, the love they have is just for each other, and there probably had never existed other who had walked upon earth who they'd love them more than they loved each other.

" there's you " Ron suddenly pointed a small picture on the bottom

" oh yeah- that's me " harry carefully looked at his solo photograph. He wasn't particularly attentive, looking in some other direction as if he was watching out for something.

" that's forbidden forest " Hermione peeped carefully at the picture

" It might be the courtyard " Harry interjected as he took a few steps away to look at a few more pictures to avoid their questions.

" but harry I'm sure it's forbidden forest, it's the same place where sir- where you fought those dementors, I'm sure " Hermione egged on

" I'm not saying it might not be, might be. I wandered off a lot during 5th year but I'm pretty sure it must've been just the courtyard, Colin wouldn't probably enter the forest " Harry made a point with raised eyebrows. Hermione didn't seem to believe yet nodded forcefully, dropping the matter.

" there's a tons of pictures of you guys here " Someone said from behind Harry and before he had time to register to who it was, his fingers were already intertwined with someone and by the touch, he just knew it was Ginny.

" well he was quite a fan of me " harry smirked at his fiance.

" but still. It's like you were his personal models. Gotta agree though, he was great " Ginny said as she looked at the wall in front of them.

" he was " Harry hummed and walked alongside the rest of the gallery with them.

It wasn't until Ginny got bored of looking at plain walls just with pictures, she left to chat with other people. Hermione and Ron had collected themselves to the other part of the gallery, conversing with a few people. That meant Harry was left alone and he found it quite relieving even if he loved all of them.

He had reached the last of the gallery when his eyes fell upon the same blonde head he had abstained himself from seeing in years. Hundreds of flashbacks flashed back as he tried not to stare at him. It had been years yet even now if Harry passed by him, he'd know he still smells the same. As if he too had sensed Harry's presence, he looked away from the picture to his direction. They only locked eyes for a moment, a moment of weakness before Harry nodded and walked away. He sighed as he walked away, it has been so long, so long yet this feeling doesn't change. He thought staying away would change but it hadn't helped, not a lot to be precise.

Harry walked away deeper in the gallery until he reached the last of halls and stopped there, right there at the last picture. It was the last picture Colin had clicked after which only his broken camera's were set. Harry would be lying if he said he wasn't stunned to see the last picture. It was so weirdly ironic how the last photograph from Colin's collection was the picture marked with the symbolic representation of end of certain other things. Harry longingly stared at the picture, the moment running on his mind like a music reel

" this seems nice doesn't it ?" He asked

" it's more than nice Draco " Harry had replied

" Harry- i-" but he closed his mouth

" what ?" Harry asked him to continue when he was rendered speechless

" nothing " Draco sighed as he leaned back on the tree

" go on, tell me " Harry said as he climbed forward towards him

Draco stared at him long enough as though he was memorising harry deep within his heart.

" you're going to love me the same, right ?" He finally asked.

Harry stared at him, more confused than ever before he cupped Draco's face and said " of course Draco, always the same way "

" even if I do the most wrong in the world ?" Draco asked a strange shadow of sadness covering his eyes, obstructing Harry from reading his eyes.

" you- I- I-"

" it's hard to say ?" Draco asked almost hurt

" Draco, I believe you. I love you, I'll always love you the same way but the definition of most wrong depends on a lot of things but I believe in you, I know you wouldn't do anything that would be the most wrong thing to me in the world" Harry gave him a comforting smile . When Draco didn't say anything he climbed into Draco's lap and rested his head against his Chest, hearing the rapid heartbeats.

" you're afraid of something Draco " Harry said as he analysed his heart rate

" I'm afraid of the ruins " Draco truthfully answered because he was aware of everything he was supposed to be doing.

" ruins ?" Harry asked confused, craning his neck up to look at him, only to find Draco looking far away. He seemed lost.

" we can never be wholly together Harry, I'm always afraid, every moment of my life when I'm with you..I'm afraid you'll wake up from this dream and realise it's all ruins " Draco answered, his lips trembling a bit. Harry snuggled in closer to his chest, he knew he was right..

" you're not a ruined man Draco and this isn't ruins to me " Harry Answered

" am I not ?" Draco asked looking hurt

" y- you're not a ruined man but even if you are, you are my ruined man and I promise to love you the same way, everyday even if this doesn't work out, you get me ?" Harry asked empathetically.

" you must be a fool to fall in love with me " Draco finally said after a few minutes smiling down at harry.

Sensing the light tone Harry smiled up at him " then I am your fool "

" I'd rather never wake up from this dream " Draco smiled at harry lovingly then kissed on the top of his head and just then they heard a shuttering sound, startling them awake from their moment.

If only harry had known what was to happen, he'd had never gotten up and ran for the sound but he had and it had ruined millions of memories that could've been made.

" it's a beautiful picture" a familiar voice said behind Harry. He didn't need to turn around to know who it belonged to, he had grown up Being fond of it.

" while It lasted " Harry replied turning his head to find Draco was now standing next to him

" broken promises, some thing huh"

" I know I kept mine " Harry whispered avoiding looking Draco in the eye

" did you ?" Draco retaliated

" I always did " Harry replied more seriously now than before.

" oh hey, it's the same picture from your albums Harry- didn't see you there malfoy, g-good to see you " Ron suddenly appeared from behind them

" you never really talk about him. One boyfriend huh " Ron added Patting Harry on his back.

" it's because of the ruins " Harry replied smiling at Ron.

Draco turned his head towards Harry that it almost snapped. Harry had already been looking at him when he did, and for a moment just for a moment, everything had vanished from the room except them. The people here didn't matter, it was just them, finally away in their isolation Just with each other without their ruins. It was a moment of weakness where they smiled at each other knowingly that after all this time, always the same.

" Harry, it's your boyfriend from sixth year, the one in the album-"

" Draco, it's the picture from the album, your boyfriend-"

Astoria and Ginny's simultaneously said.

Requests open

Day 25- perfect birthday plans | Day 27- Harry's dance partner

[seancekitsch]

Out of the Rain: a Marko x Reader fic

Warnings: bloodplay goes without saying bc vamp, rough sex, dirty talk, semi public sex, telepathy?? me projecting my music taste on this fic again. drug use, fast and loose use of vampire lore bc when i write i am god and u cannot stop me. also can u tell i have like…. v clear descriptions of the setting like i used to work at the place im describing but its not in california

No one had come in for hours. What's the point of staying open? You dim some of the lights in the store, which is one of three head shops in Santa Carla, but the only one open late. You're not really sure why this is the only store that stays open, why everyone else if worried about the three am walk back to their car on a weekend night. You've never seen anything of suspicion, just sometimes that biker gang watches people shuffle out. That was almost comforting, though. People didn't like those guys, so no one would make you use your switchblade if they were around.

The bright while fluorescent lights of your typical daytime ambiance faded away, and now green light bathes you in the “mood” lighting your boss thought was a good idea. The green lighting reflects off of the glass counters, shining it back at the ceiling and making everything that much more green. It fits, you think with the overall vibe of the store. The stale scent of weed, gently and miserably covered up by some nag champa incense, always burning in at least four different spots within the store. You'd long since gotten used to the smoke in your eyes. The music does everything to add to the ambiance. You always have full control of the music in the shop, usually because no one else is willing to take the night shift in Santa Carla. In fact, most of the boardwalk shops had a revolving door of night shift workers. You never got why, something clearly spooks them that does not spook you. Whether that makes you brave or stupid, you dont know. Jefferson Airplane’s Surrealistic Pillow pumps through the speakers in the store. But I suppose no one knows, you're my plastic fantastic lover.

The rain batters the boardwalk outside, a roar much different than the typical hustle and bustle of drunk teens, of the cliques and crews that come in and out; the few that sit and snicker in the doorway, never entering. Some too afraid to be associated with the implication of being spotted in the shop. We sell jewelry and vinyl too, you always say, when they balk at the idea of being in the same room as a bong or incense.

But then there's the other group that stands and idles in the threshold, also not entering. It's that biker gang. Four guys, a girl, a kid. Maybe he’s the brat of the girl and the one who takes himself too seriously, but maybe not. She looks too young for that. They'd been hovering around quite a bit lately, always after dark. You’d spoken to them, at least the ones that are talkative. The hair metal wannabe and the cute short one. Paul and Marko. You knew the dark haired one was Dwayne, but all he ever offered you was a curt nod and a tight lipped smile, respectful but indifferent. They're nice, not worth the spooky reputation they have. Any time it's not just you at the shop, your boss tries to spook them away. Good thing your boss isn't here tonight, because one of them is prowling around the storefront in the rain. That is, if it's not your spliff induced haze playing tricks on you.

No, one of them is out there. Without his little pack. The cute one. Marko.

You walk over to the door, which you haven't had propped open since the rain trickled in as a drizzle at the beginning of your shift. At least he had enough sense to be huddling under the awning. Fuck, he’s handsome even when he looks like a drowned rat.

“What are you doing out here?” You scrunch up your nose as you ask.

“Y’know, waiting for you to show up.” Wanted a look at that cute ass.

You blink at him. Did he really just say that?

“Okay… well, you know it's raining out there, right?”

“I might,” he offers noncommittally, eyeing the spliff still in the hand that's not holding the door. If it were anyone but him, you'd probably get fired for it.

Why is he just hanging around out here? That's hella weird. His curls are getting matted to his forehead, slick with rain, his jacket starting to look a little sad.

“C’mon in, Marko. It’s too wet out here. You’ll fuck up your jacket.” You nod towards the interior of the shop holding the door open as he passes you.

Wrong move, sweet cheeks.

“What did you say?” What did he mean, wrong move?

“I didn't say anything,” he offers nonchalantly as he thumbs at one of the tapestries on the wall. A garish mess that’s supposed to be the worm from Alice in Wonderland, but it’s distorted by a botched tie dye job of dark muddy colors. Every time you look at it, you assume one of the day workers did it.

“No, you said something.”

“Do you want me to say something?” there's both a threat and an innuendo in his tone. Maybe you do, but you just laugh, a sharp exhale through your nose, and bring the spliff to your lips again as he follows you deeper into the store.

You jump up onto the counter next to the ash tray, easy reach for each time you need to ash.

“So why are you really here?” your eyes narrow at him, kicking your sandal off on the floor where it lands a few inches from his boots. He looks uneasy in the space, like for all the wild shit you assume he’s into, he might not actually belong in it. He sways a little to the music, perfectly in tune with the rhythm. You sway along too, and suddenly he fills the space like he belongs. He just needed someone along for the ride with him.

“Do you ever come around during the day, or just at night because I’m so fun?” You’re teasing him, but it’s a nice easy feeling between you.

“Not really a sun guy,” bullshit, he would look beautiful with a tan, “but I do drag everyone here just to see you.”

“Awww, all for me? Do you have a crush, Marko?”

It’s more than that. You hear the words clearly, but his smile doesn’t move. You kick the other sandal off.

“I can hear you, I don’t know how, but I can. I bet you can hear me too.”

I can. You’re wrong about the tan thing.

You straighten up, mind clearing as you blurt out your next question. Something absolutely stupid.

“So what are you, a vampire or something?” he laughs at you, but his big toothy smile doesn't reach his eyes. No, there's something predatory, extremely dark in his eyes. Otherworldly.

How could you guess?  

“Well, that for one big fucking clue.” You ash the spliff for the final time, leaving the roach in the tray. You would think you’d be more surprised, more upset that you just found out vampires were real, and that you were in the same room as one. You have to say, weirder things are probably afoot in Santa Carla. Murder capital of the world can’t all be from some rowdy teens and a ten year old.

“You do those surf nazis?” is all that leaves your mouth. You kind of hope it was. They were the fucking worst. Racist, misogynistic, destructive. You’d had to threaten them a few times to leave your store on your shift.

“The—? Oh! Surf nazis. Yeah that was us. Ate a few of them.”

“Good for you. I mean— murder. bad. But they were nazis, and now they’re dead. so…” you trail off. Not really sure what to say next, but then you keep going. Remember everything you know about Marko.

“No, no I mean, it makes sense. Right? You and the guys only hang around at night. Aren’t vampires solitary hunters though? I don’t remember Dracula being in a frat.”

“They’re my pack. We take care of each other.” He says it with such fondness and devotion.

You feel a pang of jealousy run through you. You work alone for the most part, live alone, you’ve got friends but they’re all over the place. He belongs to something.

“And you're down with this?” he’s legitimately asking. You nod. You don't really have a choice, you're down or you get eaten, but like genuinely you are down with it. If he was going to eat you, he probably would have by now. There's probably a reason they've been hanging around the store, and in your sightline while you close up. You're putting things together.

“Like really?”

“Well, you haven't made me a kebab yet.”

He shrugs, frowns.

“Could still skewer you on something.”

Laughter erupts from your lips while you roll your eyes, music to Marko’s ears. This is why he took a shine to you, it's easy to get along with you, and you're not one of his brothers.

Something heavy falls in the room, and it's not the haze of the incense. He steps towards you, big blue eyes raking over your body, but always coming back to meet your gaze. He closes the space between you, easily fitting between your thighs; the rough patches of his jacket brushing against your bare skin where your shorts ride up. He leans in, like he's about to kiss you, and against all better judgement, you're going to let him.

You're going to let him.

The record skips. He holds out his hand, more like a gentleman than a biker gang killer, and helps you off the counter.

“Hold on, let me pick out a new record,” you turn without waiting for his confirmation, not at all surprised when Marko follows hot on your heels to the back room. Your boss’ office, the record room. Whatever you wanted to call it. His hands ghost over your arms as you push past the wooden bead curtain to enter the room. You can feel his presence close enough to touch. That's it, right where I want you. There’s his voice again.

He lets you actually pick out a new record. You slide it out of the sleeve and walk it over to the player. The static buzzes and pops as the needle finds the groove.

“Ocean Rain, you heard it?” No. He shakes his head, and you can feel it as he leans into your back.

“Echo and the Bunnymen. They've got a new album coming out this year.”

You turn to face him and his fingerless leather glove clad hands cover your cheeks.

He kisses you gently, tenderly. Not at all the way you’d expect. He’s eager, kissing like there’s something to prove. He licks his way into your mouth, tongue pushing your lips apart and you let him. His arms tighten around you as you kiss, tongues now greeting each other playfully. Your tongue explores his mouth, running along each and every tooth in his mouth. Huh, no fangs, you realize, and maybe he isn't actually a vampire. As if he reads your mind (maybe he does), he pulls away.

“They're, uh, hiding,’ he nods, almost to himself more than you. You nod as well, slow and uneasy, not quite believing him, but he pulls you back into a harsh kiss, more of what you expected. His hands roam your body as yours bury themselves in his curls. Still damp, but long and beautiful just as well. He shrugs the jacket off his shoulders, and his hands only briefly leave you to throw it and his gloves somewhere else, leaving him just in a thin white tank top. His mouth leaves yours to trail lower, kissing your neck. Your pulse point. Fucking irresistable. No, that's definitely his voice. Is this the end? Could be.

“I can smell you, hot stuff,” he moans into your ear, sending shivers down your spine. You find yourself gripping onto his shoulders a little tighter, but he lets you sink. He guides you, again more gently than you thought he would; bare knees brushing the threadbare carpet floor before you plant yourself. You look up at him through your lashes and he all but bites back a groan.

“You gonna join me down here?” You lick your lips, waiting for something.

“Nah, I’m gonna let you have a head start,” there's a joke in his tone. You're learning that’s normal for him. He’s silent, or playing jester. It’ll be interesting when you let him fuck you. Shit, did he hear that?

“Quit thinkin’ so loud!” he runs an affectionate hand through your hair. “But yes, I heard you. Glad you're as eager as I am.”

That's encouraging. You take your time undoing his belt, connected to faded and soft leather chaps, not bothering to push them down his thighs before you move to the top of his jeans, teasing your fingers at the skin just above the waistline. He shudders under your touch, extremely reactive. Does he get touched like this often? Or is it just quick fucks? You don't want to think about who else he might be doing this with, focusing again on his body, and all of the offending clothing covering it. You unbutton them slowly, teasing. For a member of the undead, he seems to be out of breath under your movements. The zipper is pulled down just as slowly. You run your palms flat along the bottom of his stomach, to his hips before pushing his jeans down to around his ankles, hooking his boxers on your finger along with them. He’s beautiful, and you can help but stare. Hard, eager, and thick, greeting you with a small trimmed patch of golden blonde curls. You wrap your hand around the base.

You never expected a vampire to whimper, but that's exactly what happens when your tongue darts out of your mouth to lick the head of his cock. Quick, tentative little lick, testing the waters. Your tongue swipes across the slit at the tip of his thick member and his hands animate like you flipped a switch, rising up, going to your hair, rising up again, slamming down against the desk. Your boss’ desk. You lick a long stripe to the underside of his cock, paying close attention to the prominent vein there.

“So good, so good, oh you feel so-” he pants out, hands white knuckling the edge of the desk. Heat pools in your core, loving that he’s so vocal. Fuck, if he could just keep speaking. Your other hand moves to your shorts, sloppily and hastily undoing them and wiggling them down to your knees. You wrap your lips around the head of his cock and sink down on it, taking him as far as you can, until you couch when he hits the back of your throat.

“You look fucking beautiful like that. Please move, Please move, you’re so fucking good at this.”

You do, starting to bob your head up and down on the length of him, hollowing out your cheeks and flattening your tongue against him, cupping and massaging his balls in your hand. Your free finds itself between your legs, rubbing gently at your clit, stirred and encouraged by his praise.

“Does sucking me off get you hot and bothered?” Yesitdoes.

You keep bobbing your head, rubbing your clit, eyes trained on his until his eyes squeeze shut. His cock twitches in your mouth.

“Don't wanna- don't wanna finish in your mouth,” he’s urgent, grabbing you by the chin and pulling your mouth off of his cock. He pushes you back by your shoulders, letting you guide yourself back to lay on the rug. He pulls your loose shorts easily off your legs and settles himself between your legs, too eager to bother with removing his boots and everything.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for so long. Do you know how bad I wanted this?”

“Fuck me, Marko, dont say it. Just do it,” youre breathless under him, wanting nothing more than for him to be fucking you. He pauses.

“I dunno…” his thumb swipes up along your clit, drawing a whine from your throat, “For some reason I think you like it when I say things.”

You nod, knowing words will fail you. And he gives you what you want, lining himself up and sinking into you, groaning as he buries his head into the crook of your neck.

“Oh I knew your pussy would feel like fucking heaven,” he pants against your neck, pressing a harsh kiss to the underside of your jaw. He sets the pace quickly, unmerciful and fast, fucking hard and deep into you. His hands push up your thin tee shirt, and you can feel his sigh of relief when he gets a handful of bare breast. He doesn't have to deal with a bra tonight. You hike your knees up, opening yourself as much as you can to him, wanting him to fill you to the brim. He looks into your eyes while he fucks you, which comes as a surprise to you. Maybe it shouldn't. You wonder what it would be like to be a victim of his. Does he treat them well? Have fun with them like this? Or is he vicious? You don't know if you could picture him like that… vamped out.

“What does it feel like?”

“What?” he thrusts sharply, snapping his hips into you, making you yelp.

“To be fed on, but not to die.”

Are you serious? You hear him in your head.

YesIam. He thrusts like that again, earning an identical yelp, now coupled with your thighs squeezing him around the middle. You're close already, and he can tell.

He nods, a question; You nod, confirmation.

He pulls at the neckline of your shirt, already scooping so it doesn’t ruin, and exposes your shoulder. Somewhere non lethal. His other hand comes up to grip your jaw, covering your neck but being careful not to squeeze it. You hope he bruises your jaw, you realize. A physical way to feel him when dawn comes. He slows his pace to a rocking, grinding into you, staying deep.

Then he bites. Stars erupt behind your eyes, and it feels like your blood has turned to seltzer. Every nerve in your body is in overdrive as you moan and shake and come undone around his cock. You're the kind of girl that comes from the bite of a vampire, apparently. He doesn’t let up. You can faintly hear him moaning against the open wound in your shoulder, and you hope you taste good to him. He licks the wound a few times more, softly, carefully, like he’s trying to soothe you when he finally lets you come down from your high.

When he pulls back to let you see him, his features are gruesome, full vampire with sharp brows and cheekbones, pointed nose even that much more so almost birdlike. Fangs and bottom half of his face covered in blood.Your blood.  He’s panting like an animal after the kill. But he doesn't scare you. Maybe he should, but he doesn't.  It's just Marko, no matter what, and if he wanted to eat you he would have. Several times now. His hand finally releases your jaw, to wipe the blood from his face. He wipes his hand then on your face, covering you in your own blood, hot on his fingers and palm.

“Fuckin sexy,” he pants, voice deeper and distorted. His thrusts speed up, trying to find his own release as your nails dig into his back, maybe making him bleed as well. You feel the rug burn forming on your back, you feel tears in your eyes. It's never felt this good with other guys.

When he comes, he comes with a howl, buried deep inside you as he shouts and shivers then stills above you. Your chest is heaving, trying to regain yourself as his face slowly fades to normal, and he slumps down on top of you. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, near the wound he tore open, now no longer bleeding. He mouths at any bare skin he can find, lazy half kisses as he spreads more mess and blood on you. Your fingers find his curls again, winding them around your digits as you stare up at the sickly green mood lighting bathing the walls of the room.

An hour later, Marko is helping you lock up early.

He makes sure to dump out all of the ashes from spliffs and incense, makes sure the vinyl is all in its right place while you make sure the register and inventory is all in its rightful place and order.

“You’re dangerous, you know.”

“Me?” you scoff, “That rich, coming from you.”

I’d do a lot of things I’m not supposed to for you. You kinda don't want to ask him what he means by that. For some reason that feels like a conversation you shouldn't have tonight. 

He leaves the store before you, holding the door open for you and letting you lock the doors. He slings an easy arm over your shoulder, not bothering to shield either of you from the rain as he steers you towards your car. You can feel the rain cleaning your face, the blood flowing away and saving you the shower you were going to take before collapsing into bed tonight.

“Where’s your bike?”

“I flew here,” he says with that devilish smile, and you're really not sure if he's joking or not. Your arm sneaks its way into his jacket and wraps around his waist, holding him close as he makes sure you get home same. Marko makes you feel calm, in a way you didn't feel before you moved to Santa Carla. How long had he been waiting to make his move? And does this mean he and his brothers would be coming around more often? Maybe being more friendly towards you. Each step towards your car feels heavy; You don't want to go home alone without him, but somehow you know he won't come with you. 

“Will I see you again?”

He grabs your car keys from your hand, and sticks them in the door handle. Of course you will.

Right. You just have to be near the beach at night. You know, where you work.

He kisses you full on the mouth, holding you close and tight, like you could slip away at any second. When he finally lets you go you pull away to be met with his face, full on grinning, his eyes still closed from the kiss. He doesn't look like a killer.

Marko watches you as you pull open the door to your car and more or less throw your ass into the seat.  He holds the door as he gives you one last smile, and says:

“You know, you should never invite a vampire into your life. Renders you powerless.”

And he winks.