#just dissect the whole song and give it to me in pieces

[lock-my-feelings-in-a-jar]

#showaddywaddy #a little bit of soap #1978 #there's just something very nice about the music in this song #i could listen to an instrumental of it all day #(with the background doo wop singing included still) #just for background music while doing things #but also buddy's small singing part is one of my favorite parts so i would miss that #but still #pretty little angel eyes has an instrumental version but why not this one #every song should have one #it helps me notice things in the music #i want my playlist to be doubled with the normal versions and instrumental versions of everything #while we're at it i want them to also give me a track of each instrument singled out #including vocals #just dissect the whole song and give it to me in pieces #but for every song #actually they've already been helping me with singling out instruments in my brain because i could never really do that before #in my mind it was always just a jumbled mess of noises that sounded good and that's all #for some reason it's easier for me with them #and i've been noticing it in other bands songs now too because of it #thank you showaddywaddy my best boys #helping my brain #in multiple different ways

[blankvort]

tangentially animal-related hcs 4 the mean girls crew bc i am now responsible for giving a goldfish daddy issues

cady

inexplicably allergic to dogs and always in the first four stages of grief about it. don’t @ me about the medical semantics i just want her to suffer a little

tried to get a job at petco the second she turned eighteen but learned of the above information in the most destructive job interview since janis’s application to be the local coffee shop’s cool gay barista (they were worried that she’d swear at fighter-jet-takeoff volumes if she touched hot coffee) (she did, but only because they started playing a shitty pop cover of one of damian’s fave show tunes) and came out of the building a puddle of mucous and tears

grossly fascinated by the grossest of primitive functions. her insta page is all dope and authentic until you find a selfie taken using the back camera 0.5x with the corpse of an effervescent snail and a bunch of reels telling you how to narrow down what bird species are destroying your garden by the splay of their shit

has a miniature aneurysm whenever movies get stuff wrong about animals. artistic liberties are granted to janis alone. like sure if she’s in the theater she’ll sit through the movie fisting popcorn down her throat but as soon as she gets out of there the entire mall becomes a soapbox for dissecting the bullshit sexual dimorphism of giving female animals eyeliner

thus while i know the headcanon of her loving the lion king is basically canon i think she’s absurdly secretive about it. like she’s burying her merchandise and blu-ray copies under her bed in the dead of night while secreting more sweat than should be possible. she could come out to her parents and elope to antarctica no problem but liking the lion king which implies that lighter manes = stronger lions is a death sentence

probably got banned from a bunch of zoos for interrupting field trips 

janis

had one of those angel/wolf/dragon/whatever hybrid phases as a kid like all good artists. did those like. not quite furry but not quite human animal art commissions on twitter for a while for the funnies but discovered a lucrative market and never turned back

does not know how to hold human or animal babies. like she’s good at taking care of them in terms of general physical and intellectual nourishment but that limp wrist is not supporting any necks properly

mercilessly makes fun of the whole “would you love me if i was a worm” trend. she doesn’t even love most humans what makes you think she has any answer for you regarding that other than that she’d turn you into a super deep art piece museums would purchase for exorbitant amounts

that being said she feels like a vivarium girlie to me. she’s nocturnal like a pillbug and post-canon constantly tries to convince the plastics that her pacman frog is poisonous

feeds her meticulously decorated ant farm gourmet meals every day. anyone else gets microwavable mac and cheese at best

this one probably won’t make sense unless you’re a jenny nicholson fan but she has a fake id for buying wine and turning the corks into those hallmark craft animal sculptures (and selling the open wine bottle to mrs george in back alleys)

damian

his grandma owns the most omnicidal chihuahua in the state of chicago. it’s how he learned to dance with such mental and physical dexterity. how else would he have survived visits to the nursing home

^ attempted to adopt the chihuahua’s children to have his own bruiser woods moment. turns out, even with his classically trained tenor voice, puppies and janis respond to the “drop it” command much the same way. that is to say they do not drop it and the puppies ran away with ninety nine per cent of his anastasia-inspired music box memorabilia

has a love-hate relationship with cats the musical. like memory is one of his top ten karaoke songs but he’s not going to admit it until he’s several fruity seltzers into the night. wishes all the actors in the movie had been replaced with real cats picked off the street before anything else was approved

played milky white in a scammy local production of into the woods and so so so embarrassed about it. he had to be on stilts the whole show

stuck a fish in regina’s backpack sometime in sophomore year but found karen feeding it and talking to it about her worst fears and greatest dreams felt too guilty to continue with the next phase of his plan (sticking a very hot picture of janis in regina’s backpack) (karen probably would’ve tried to talk to the photo too)

regina

musical specific but i think she didn’t Exactly do a matching animal costume with gretch and karen because 1) what can you dress up as when your friends are going as a cat and a mouse. cheese? 2) had cady not moved into the neighborhood, she’d have gone as a sexy lion to ease into the prospect of. you know. with shane oman but going as a sexy lion when your shiny new homoerotic frenemy has a lion pin on half her clothing isn’t quite a non-questionable choice

had a warrior cats phase she keeps under lock and key in the very depths of her closet. her closet is an iceberg of issues that goes shein -> homosexuality -> warrior cats and climate change is doing a number on it

fried a couple of janis’s ants alive with a magnifying glass sometime before middle school. she’s never flirted normally in her life

the bulk of janis’s furry commission clientele. she has so many emails for alternate accounts that she could get every american president ever suspended from twitter if national security let her. that’s including the dead ones

remember the nigh-rabid chihuahuas damian had. yeah she’s been raising those in secret for a few years now. mrs george doesn’t notice because regina hides them in her hair and extensions are, like, totally in or whatever

had a horse girl phase. all her drawings of horses came out like this meme tho. the art freaks nickname was born out of jealousy

gretchen

chose to be a sexy cat for halloween to match with karen because she has no sense of identity. also because she remembers regina’s warrior cats phase

actually a guinea pig person. i’ve never met a guinea pig person but she feels like one. they’re both in dire need of daily interaction and likely polyamorous

but also peri-canon gretchen could not keep a pet alive she’d spend every cent of the wieners fortune on buying the animal’s love

speaking of. her family bought a stable to fuel “her” horse girl phase. she just wanted to make regina happy and couldn’t stay on a saddle if there was an escalator that plopped her right on the horse

cares about the puppy bowl more than she cares about the superbowl

instinctively pets cute animals. if they bite her then she deserved it

karen

chose to be a sexy mouse for halloween because tom and jerry was having a media marathon and she’s into that sort of power dynamic

believes in unicorns more than she believes in horses. this is because she had a horse girl phase for the hottest of seconds before realizing that none of the ponies at the apache trail sale had horns and thought they had their horns cut off for aesthetic reasons

animals love her so much. survived a jellyfish attack because the jellyfish sensed she just wanted to pet something shiny and absolutely respected that. pests of all shapes and sizes evict themselves stat when karen says her mom doesn’t appreciate her hundred thousand dollar lotions being invaded by peril-bringing insects. strays follow her 24/7. gretchen is jealous (of the animals)

thinks tigers are very sick zebras

thinks blobfish are cuter when they’re all flesh putty out of their natural habitats but would also break into a zoo if she thought the animals were being mistreated

was banned from australia at the age of eight because she tried to have a sleepover in a kangaroo’s pouch

aaron

mean girls insta described him as a golden retriever so i’m also hcing him as being allergic to dogs <3 equality

becomes deeply fearful of all fauna after falling into a research rabbit hole for the sake of connecting with cady. what do you mean buffalo are some of the deadliest beasts on the planet and not just a type of chicken wing

kevin g

a preteen vsco girl in her granola advocacy era stuck in a teenage boy’s body. he has saved more turtles than any natucate volunteer by repurposing his rejected business cards to make a selfie stick long enough to stick him in the same selfie as gretchen wieners. the selfie stick has been in progress since daycare. he has also gone to the hospital more than any natucate volunteer do not trust this man with shop class equipment

#mean girls #cady heron #janis sarkisian #janis ‘imi’ike #damian hubbard #regina george #gretchen wieners #karen smith #karen shetty #aaron samuels #kevin gnapoor #kevin ganatri #these r so long for no reason #who wants goldfish pics btw

[its-to-the-death]

Bracket F thoughts:

Jesus flipping crisis, those fucking elephant calls in "Prowler's theme" are so terrifying. Also I really like how it's basically Miles' theme in reverse, both because of how it emphasizes the relationship between Miles and Aaron and because of...certain events in Across the Spiderverse.

"Candy Store" has that bitchy confidence, but "Mother Knows Best" is the emotional abuser's anthem par excellence. Like I could do a whole ask dissecting all the shit Gothel pulls in that one song to undermine and manipulate Rapunzel.

(She'd be one of my favorite Disney villains if she wasn't also a heaping pile of antisemitic stereotypes...)

I was liking "The Music of the Night," but then it tried to murder my ears with that organ(?) at the end, so I'll give this one to "What's Up Duloc?", which is also admittedly quite good.

One of these won the 1994 Razzie for Worst Original Song. The other is Rachel L Hughes playing a megalomaniacal dictator crooning about her space train (which she fucks) that definitely is not going to unleash Yog Sogoth ;). Vote for "Odin" right now.

"Dressed to Oppress" is delightful, but oh my god that reprise of "Good Kid" in "The Last Day of Summer" hits like a truck.

As people have discussed in the notes, "The Convoluted Reasons We Pretend to Be Divorced" is not that villainous--and frankly I didn't find it as much of a bop as some other PnF songs I've listened to. "We Both Reached For the Gun" is a masterclass is manipulation as Billy plays the press for suckers so completely he doesn't even need Roxy to speak for him by the end. Also the fucking puppet acting, wow.

...Ok it might not be the best villain song, but "Penny battle theme" goes so hard I had to support it. Sue me.

I voted "Someone Gets Hurt," but they're both great. That one was close.

"One-Winged Angel" is iconic and intimidating, but I personally prefer the energy of "Cell-Block Tango." The dancing is amazing, the lyrics are witty, and the chorus is an earworm and a half. I also like the use of visual symbolism with the red handkerchiefs to symbolize how each murderess killed her victim(s)--except the innocent Hungarian woman, who dances angelic ballet to their aggressive tango and is the only one with a white handkerchief.

Who doesn't love an unabashed villainess who destroys worlds in battle armor and sneakers? "I'm the Bad Guy" is a bop.

"Pieces of You" is a goofy and terrifying fever dream of a song, holy fuck. The visuals give this one the edge for me. Also, don't you want to support The Substitute? He's just a little guy :)

"A Freak Like Me Needs Company" ultimately just got kind of lost for me--it focused too much on villains in general and not on Norman himself, while "The Only Thing I Know For Real" is both a kickass rock song and a great piece of characterization for Jetstream Sam.

...I don't know, I like Zelena's actress' singing and I think it's funny that she's not cursed to sing in this episode and she's just doing this for shits and giggles. I voted "Wicked Always Wins."

To quote someone in the comments of the "Bloody Party/Welcome to Cake Island" video, "This is the most Disney-like bulshit [sic] I have ever seen in an anime, and I fucking love it." What the fuck is happening. Why are these people committing casual mass murder for cake ingredients. Why are inanimate objects singing along with this pirate lady. I don't know but it scares me.

"The Smell of Rebellion" really picks up in the end, and "Love For Peasants" felt a little too unfocused musically. Also, @thatsluttytiefling mentioned that the song gave them "war flashbacks to the choreo," so it is villainous IRL as well.

Oh my god how the fuck did "This is the Thanks I Get" get released in this state. The lyrics don't rhyme properly and are exceedingly awkward to boot. The chorus is bland as shit. The visuals are boring. There's no buildup from "I'm an underappreciated hero doing my best for the kingdom and nobody respects me enough :(" to "I want ULTIMATE POWAH through DAAAAAARK MAGIC" and then it suddenly just switches back to how it was before??? It's not intimidating and scary, it's silly for all the wrong reasons, it's not even particularly sympathetic, and it is reeking of trying to be hip and cool and/or being written by people with too little time and too few fucks to give. "Heaven on Their Minds" is very good in its own right, but I kind of already knew which one was better before I even heard it, because this song just...doesn't do its job.

I agree that the villain Phineas and Ferb songs aren't among the best the show has to offer.

#pulling from the pot of asks #villain song showdown

[sixty-silver-wishes]

obsessed with every time shostakovich writes for voice. his vocal works don’t get as much spotlight as the instrumental ones but godddd

that part in symphony 13 where the soloist’s voice seems to break when he sings “я каждый здесь расстрелянный ребёнок” (I am every child shot dead here) gives me chills every time, and is probably the most powerful part of the entire symphony. the tragedy and rage of the piece is transcending the text and music, compelling even the performer’s voice to waver.

the part in lady macbeth where katerina and sergei are in prison and katerina expresses her devotion to sergei- the man she has no choice but to convince herself to love- as he cheats with sonyetka . absolutely haunting . and then when shostakovich revisits lady macbeth and quotes it in the 8th quartet in 1960, this context is so much more heartbreaking when you consider the themes of betrayal in the opera and the circumstances under which shostakovich wrote the 8th quartet.

you have cycles like songs from jewish folk poetry, the spanish songs, six romances on verses by english poets, the michelangelo and tsvetaeva cycles, etc. where a whole other dimension is added to these texts with the music. you can almost see the scenarios described in the texts played out in your mind, just by hearing them sung and accompanied. the harmonies in “songs from jewish folk poetry” especially stick in my mind, along with the desperation in “the abandoned father” («Цирелэ, дочка!»)

and then there’s the antiformalist rayok and “preface on a complete collection of my works.” gahhhh, shostakovich is so good at satirical comedy. there is so much to these works to dissect, and they’re just so fun. and he’s a talented lyricist, too; his comedic works can be surprisingly personal and vulnerable.

even with socialist realist works he likely wrote out of desperation, like “song of the forests” (a work he allegedly regretted writing according to galina ustvolskaya), there’s no cut corners. he takes his art seriously, even when it exhausted him (as he said himself on the film scores of the 40s). there’s so much in his vocal pieces to examine and they’re some of his most fascinating works imo.

#rambles #shostakovich #dmitri shostakovich #classical music #composer #classical composer #history #music history

[bronskibeet]

isha @cosmicrhetoric has tagged me to share 9 book recs and after racking my brains I have finally come up with 9 things that ive read & think other people should read. details under the readmore

song of solomon by toni morrison: This is the first of her books that I read so while I'd recommend any of them this one is my favorite lol. it's the first novel she wrote with a male protagonist and iirc because of this she wrote it w the "hero's journey" monomyth more closely in mind. so it mainly follows the protagonist's upbringing in early 30s segregated michigan and his journey south to recover a piece of his family's history. however the story spins out to examine his whole extended family in detail and paints these really vivid portraits of their lives and how they all tie together. there's an element of magical realism to it, it's very grand in scope and equal parts awe-inspiring and tragic. I'd suggest giving it a read if only because any summary of mine is not gonna do it justice

piranesi by susanna clarke: short but gripping book about a guy who has been living in and studying an infinite labyrinth for a couple of years but has no recollection of his past or how he got there. I read this in about a day on isha's recommendation and basically couldn't put it down the whole time

quantum criminals by alex pappademas and joan lemay: essential reading for any Steely Dan enthusiasts or even the casual danfan. collection of nonfiction essays divided up by "characters" from the songs and accompanied by terrifically vivid illustrations of said characters: hoops mccann from "glamour profession", the gaucho amigo from "gaucho", etc... really well-researched and not super concerned with dissecting the "meaning" of individual song lyrics (which is fine. i have already read too much comments section discourse about who the rival from "my rival" actually is), but great at contextualizing each song in the big picture of SD's career.

a visit from the goon squad by jennifer egan: ten or fifteen short stories from varying povs and time periods, loosely centered around a music industry exec and his assistant. each story shares at least one link to the preceding one, and then near the end they get even more densely interconnected. i read this primarily because i was thinking of the elvis costello song "goon squad", and I'd heard one of the chapters was told as a child's powerpoint presentation (on "great rock and roll pauses"). as it turns out the book title's got nothing to do with the song but it's still a lot of fun to read

rosencrantz and guildenstern are dead by tom stoppard: if you are even glancingly familiar with hamlet and have not read/seen/etc. this play: RUN don't walk to get your hands on a copy asap this shit rocks. simple as

the crying of lot 49 by thomas pynchon: i get that Pynchon has a reputation but this is a great first novel of his to read. it's short plus it manages to fit in all the long tangents, postal service conspiracies, 60s paranoia, and guys with insane names that you could ever want (emery bortz is my favorite). there's a passage near the end, where the protagonist considers spreading her inheritance among the transient population of america, that mentions people sleeping up in telephone lines among "the secular miracle of communication", and I'm not really doing the whole thing justice but it's stayed with me for years after first reading.

the wall by jean-paul sartre (translated by lloyd alexander): collection of five existentialist short stories, very chilly and evocative. i was handed a copy of this as a teenager by my deadbeat uncle who solemnly informed me that the 'wall' in the title was not just the literal wall from the first story, where a group of prisoners are sent to be executed, but a 'wall' separating the protagonist of each story from the rest of society. i may not trust that uncle on most things but i do on this one

something that may shock and discredit you by daniel lavery: transition memoir from the guy who used to write for dear prudence that came along at the exact right point in my life hahahaha. but it's worth reading even apart from that lol it's got some analysis of columbo, 1979 steve martin movie "the jerk", biblical scripture, etc. mixed in, it's written in a very funny and conversational tone that works well as a whole.

monstrous regiment by terry pratchett: book that got me into discworld!! on its face it's a mulan story where a girl disguises herself as a boy and joins the army to find her missing brother. then it's a balls to the wall farce where she gradually discovers that each of her fellow soldiers has some kind of secret to hide. then it's a serious interrogation of blind faith and patriotism and the horrors of war. however it's still the other things at the same time so while all that is happening she's getting bit in the nuts by a horse and having to fake being in pain bc the horse bit a rolled up sock. also it's nice to see gay and trans characters written with tact and depth and dignity in a comedy book that came out in the early 00s

---

going to tag... @jillianajones @pastelrabbits @ringneckedpheasant @mousetrapreplica @thatfrogisbog @lavendercountry and anyone else who sees this & wishes to share book recs. as always no obligations 👍

#i dont read as much as i used to which is a damn shame but im getting back in. rereading some of these has been a good place to start

[ghost-proofbaby]

Who's Afraid of Little Old Me or The Tortured Poet's Department for your ask game 🌌🤍

BAAAABE i love you <3

Who's Afraid of Little Old Me? encapsulates my favorite type of female lead to write, honestly, so it could apply to so many of them. willow in 'so mordor it is' in the way her sanity is just slowly draining as she gets deeper and deeper into the mess that was canon, reader in 'twenty four hours' in all her accumulating self hatred through overthinking every little thing prior to the bet, and (sorry to bring up the astarion fic) aruna in 'the moon will sing' as she has to decipher who she truly is and if she really is a good person at her core.

so basically what i'm saying is i'm cheating because this song is deeply personal to me and calls to the piece of myself that i can't help but put into every character/reader i write. the whole growing up meek and kind and eventually becoming what you can only see as the villain because you let it all (life, trauma, etc.) get to you. i could dissect this song and apply it in every which way, but that might be a conversation for me to have with a therapist lol <3

The Tortured Poets Department has to go to the dynamic between reader and eddie in 'twenty four hours'. i like the way it seems to be a song with a little self-awareness and pokes a little bit of fun at the whole aesthetic this album is based on (cough who even uses a typewriter anyway? cough) and i think that's something very prevalent between those two idiots from twenty four. they know their entire feud was ridiculous, they know their hatred for each other is going to be very funny years down the road. and they've got a little toxicity that fits the bridge fairly well. (also the ring mention. who would i be not to give this song to the couple i wrote that literally utilized putting rings on and making a joke out of being married?)

#thank u ily <3 #TTPD (ghost's version) #in TTPD song specifically the mention of self-destruction? god. yeah #it's them #oof #little old me is my favorite song on the album though and i nearly burst into tears listening to it #i would specifically die for that song #it applies to me actually. specifically me. no fics just me. #hellfirenacht <3

[musashi]

A Rabid, Song-by-Song Analysis of Turnabout Musical by Someone Who Knows Jack Shit About Music

TRACK 5: Justice For All

Okay, I wouldn’t do that to you guys. Two tracks today!

JUSTICE FOR ALL!!!!! This is Mia’s song! Mia’s solo! Honestly a song that I did not have a lot of feelings about until TAAAM came out and it really, really grew on me. I’m simply in love with how powerful the piano is on this song—it pairs well with Decree of the Prosecutor later, which purposefully pulls from this song. They’re like sisters. To me.

The soft way Sarah sings ‘defeated / mistreated’ here in the beginning gives me some sort of ASMR. It’s just so gentle, so quintessentially Mia. Sarah’s got this incredible way of embodying that softness when the lyrics call for it but then also just launching into the most powerful, strength-embodying performance one can imagine during others. I get fully body shivers whenever I hear the way she sings “I fight for truth,” with that soft, breathy half-laugh trailing after it like a little comet tail. 

I can’t talk about Justice For All without talking about the lyrics that personally broke me and probably anyone else who has strong feelings about Ace Attorney:

And when faced with tribulation, I think of my own inspiration He taught me to always hold my stance

Would you believe me if I said I listened to this song like a hundred times before I actually turned my brain on and paid attention to these lyrics? And registered that they are about Diego? A character I deeply adore? I never claimed to be anything other than an idiot. 

Still, they’re probably my favourite part of the whole song. I talked about this a little bit back when I was talking about how TM uses music from the AA series, but I want to talk about it a little more broadly, now. My favourite thing about TM, I think, is how subtle it is. The best writing advice I myself was ever given was to assume intelligence in your audience—to not overexplain, to leave them their crumbs to put together themselves. 

When I wrote my first big novel-length story, I made a decision—I was going to act as though it already had an established fanbase. The kind of fanbase that a hollywood writer or bestselling author would have. The kind of fanbase you see in tumblr ravenously dissecting every single frame of and writing long, rambling analyses about what it all means. Every ounce of my body rejected this—the urge to overexplain things and handhold so that my readers would see and appreciate the intentional weaving of themes and foreshadowing and parallels was so very captivating. But it would not have been as good of a story as the one I wrote, and wouldn’t you know it—my eventual fanbase made note of most of them anyways.

Since I’ve been given that advice, it’s always what I think about in relation to media. Does the media allow me, the viewer, to piece things together myself? Does it allow me my room to analyze and dissect and pry apart the text, develop my own interpretations and thoughts, and discover these little nuggets on my own? When the answer is yes, I find that I often enjoy the story much more.

TM is a masterclass in subtlety. As previously mentioned, it doesn’t go all in with relying on the music from the games and instead focuses on crafting its own identity as a separate thing musically. That, then, makes the times it does reference the game soundtrack very very special! 

The same goes for these lyrics here—they are quick and short, and then we swiftly move on. For people who have not played the games, or who have maybe only played the first installment, there is a joy in trying to take apart who Mia might be talking about here. The truly ravenous might go digging deeper, into game lore they’d previously not known or cared about. And some people—like me, for ages—might just ignore them entirely. Until I stopped, and then I got REALLY EXCITED.

This is one of my favourite things TM does. It makes the story stronger. And it makes these long fucking posts of mine possible.

Alright, tangent over, back to the music!!

Some attorneys are dishonest, they’ll do anything to win

Another one of my favourite lyrics in this song, and another intentional piece of motif-setting. What this musical does with the phrase “anything to win,” makes me a little insane. If you were paying attention during my Overture analysis you’ll know that this is the title of Manfred von Karma’s image song, but it’s also a set of words that is kind of baked into the musical itself to set him as this looming presence lurking there in the shadows of the first act. Once you’ve listened to the musical at least once, it is a phrase that always invokes him in your mind’s eye. It’s wonderful. I love him.

Anyways, this is Mia’s song, I somehow made it about the evil old bitch again, I have kind of a knack for doing that. I don’t know that I have much else to say, though. I really adore how even though this song kind of sets itself up to end on this strong crescendo, with Sarah just expertly hitting another one of those high notes, it’s actually oddly soft as it ends. Both her voice and the piano notes as it fades out kind of just sound like she’s draping a warm jacket around my shoulders and sending me on my way. And sure enough… this is technically the last song we get (in the present day) before The Horrors Begin, and I am… not crying. 

A lovely sendoff for a lovely character. I’d say rest in peace, Mia, but it’d be awfully bold of me to assume she won’t be back.

[Turnabout Huh? What do you mean there’s an Ace Attorney Musical?]

<- Track 4 | Track 6 -> (coming soon!)

#turnabout musical #pwaa #ace attorney #wordy wendy #wendy rambles #colossal waste of time

[kedsandtubesocks]

okie okie, i'm a little late to the sleepover but i have the stuff to make shirley temples and pina coladas and i also have this: 💌 💗 (please have this ancient wip that i don't think i'll be continuing for reasons, but i was pretty proud of it. kinda. context removed so let your imagine run wild lMAOOO)

He shoots you an impish grin and procures a TV remote. No… He can’t possibly have… You open your mouth to protest, but he hits a button and the screen comes to life. The image quality isn’t as good as the photos but... A foreign, yet hauntingly familiar sound echoes throughout the room. You whip your head around to look at your aides, and neither of them will meet your gaze, clearly recognizing what it is they’re hearing. This is the absolute worst, you’ve never felt so humiliated in your entire life. Another gasp erupts from the speakers, and you hiss at your attendants, “Leave!”

One of them looks up, clearly worried.

“Leave, I said! All of you!” you repeat, your plea a desperate roar. The aide squeaks and she and the other girl quickly scramble out the room. You turn back toward the bratty prince, who shoos away his own attendants with a wave. Once the two of you are the only ones left in the room, you direct all your attention to that bastard, who crosses his legs, looking rather pleased with himself.  

“Seeing as you put so much effort into gathering all of...this,” you choke on the word. You don’t know what else to call it though. “Clearly, you want something, so what is it?”

He tilts his head and offers you a friendly smile, “You, princess.”

Your jaw nearly drops. What did he just say? He’s joking, isn’t he? It’s just one word, one simple word, but your mind can’t seem to process it. “I… I… I’m sorry I… I think I misheard you.” “You,” he seems almost happy to repeat it. “I want you.”

NIKU YOU ARE NEVER LATE!! As one of the best songs of our generation sang…now the party don’t start till i walk in, and that’s you ☺️

Also YES SEND IN LETTERS AND SWEET THINGS!

💌: my favorite thing about you

Niku I love how open you are, and I mean that in a way that you feel like a beautiful breeze fluttering in! You are so warm and easy to talk to! I still feel like that one kid sitting alone in the cafeteria too worried to talk and ppl think I’m annoying…and then you show up so effortlessly like we’ve been friends forever and it feels now like we have and I know it’s just because of how open you are, maybe it’s because of our Scorpio Scorpio friendship and Scorpios are mysterious little creatures but you are so lovingly open in a way that reminds me of a friend always there to talk about anything and give true advice! I appreciate your beautiful presence in my life so much ♥️

💗: send me a piece of your writing and I will English major analyze and gush over it

Okay first off I know this is a snippet but you gave me a whole layered story…one of my professors says if you can cut out a piece of your story and it can stand on itself it means you created something with substance and truly grasped story telling in the details and I see that here

I got the tension and the way we’re in the middle of a struggle between these two and then the way you described the small details??

From the “impish grin” to the way the sounds echo in the room it gives such a texture to your writing that I love!!

And then your dialogue…goodness you have such a way with dialogue that I can hear the voices so clear and it flows together like a wonderful dance!!

I LOVED THIS SO MUCH HONESTLY!!!

Okay but this made me way more 😭🥺 than I realized I would because I did this all the time in college in my workshop classes so it’s making me emo about that but also knowing how much of an honor it is to dissect and read writing from a friend I’m just…yeah 🥺

#thank you again niku my co commander in the anti Gojo coalition group I love you #Niku’s tag 🌷✨ #asks and such things 💌 #🍕sleepover friday🍕 #long post

[tiffanylamps]

Heya! Because i am awestruck by your outworldish writing so much, i really wanna know some secrets if you dont mind 👀

What inspires you to go and write out a fic? Like specifically, also these q's meant for jwds only. And how do you build the structure, think of the environment, and research?

Sorry if q's seem too vague

AHHHH! Hey!!

Thank you for your message- it's so nice to talk to you

Secrets, you say?? Hmm, I can share some secrets 👀

What inspires you to go and write out a fic?

When a piece of media consumes me (in the way Beyond Evil has), my mind becomes inundated with possibilities. I'm naturally an overthinker in all areas of my life, and that extends to things I am passionate about. I feel this visceral need to explore the text provided, but also, the subtext. So, the media itself is a massive inspo. I am not the kind of person that can just write whenever I want. For me, writing is an arduous and tiring endeavour that takes me a long time to get through. I cannot write unless I have the bug for it- which makes finishing projects very... interesting. (I'm terrible at finishing books, I'm terrible at finishing fics... it's a problem) I do not tend to plan fics in advance. There are only 3 that I can say were minorly "planned" (Indoctrination, By Desire, and one that isn't written/published yet). But that's because they're all interconnected. Most of the time, the words just present themselves and I have to type them down otherwise I'll forget them forever.

I'll give an example of a few recent inspirations:

Blessed Hands was inspired by some real-life sad shit that I guess my mind needed to process

Your Love's Whore was written because a few weeks ago, there was a scorchingly hot day and I wanted to imagine what a jwds hot girl summer might look like

An unwritten fic I thought of last night was inspired by a scene from One Spring Night (I have an outline and gave it the creative title of "hallway". But I have no intention of actually writing it thus far)

Indoctrination was directly inspired by a cafedecanela post that I can't find nor have the time rn to find (but I will look later and link it)

Another huge inspiration/aid is music!!! I'm like everyone else and absolutely live for music. So, I use it to help direct what I want from a story (the emotions, atmosphere, the "vibe"). A few examples are:

Indoctrination was written whilst I listened to sappy, sad Korean rock on repeat for about 3 weeks straight

Your Love's Whore was heavily inspired by five songs in particular: . Posing in Bondage - Japanese Breakfast . Bedroom Hymns - Florence and the Machine . New Ways - Daughter . Your Clothes - Can't Swim . Your Love's Whore - Wolf Alice . and I listened to the album Brasilian Skies - Masayoshi Takanaka on repeat whilst actually writing as I struggled to write if I can hear English words, my brain gets distracted (I hope that makes sense)

I have a whole long-ass jwds playlist on Spotify (which I made as soon as I finished watching the show back in Feb). I love it so very much because there are some absolute bangers in there that are 100% jwds.

And I'm going to keep adding to it until I grow tired.

And how do you build the structure, think of the environment, and research?

Ooookay, now I'm actually going to have to give this a think. The wonderful thing about fanfiction is that a lot of the worldbuilding and aesthetic has been done for you. (Thank you to the cast and crew of Beyond Evil). So, it's quite easy to impose your own impression onto a piece and explore what's already been established. For the fics I have released, I did do research in the sense that I didn't start my fics first. By that, I mean, when I finished watching BE for the first time, I started writing an essay (which required a lot of research, rewatching the show, dissecting scenes, researching film theory, using my useless art degree lol) exploring the show's queer coding. I wrote about 15K words (mostly were just ramblings) until I realised that I needed to explore these characters in a more artistic way. This really stems from the fact that I feel so connected to Joo Won; he and I share a few unhealthy coping mechanisms... (it's the yikes times). I've always liked Joo Won; I didn't have to adjust to him, I always saw his pov and understood where he was going from. I just felt like I got him (which doesn't mean to say, I didn't also openly laugh at him), so I think I wanted to write to work through some identity stuff I have going on. I've trying to learn Hangul in my spare time, I love Korean cuisines so I've been naturally researching that in my personal life, I also love me some snooping- so I use google maps a lot to just look at South Korea (and anywhere in the world really) and gain an impression of what different areas are like. I look up historical events, I research pop culture, etc... and I basically just try to dive in and ingest as much information as I can to make the characters and their world feel as real as possible. When it comes to writing Joo Won, I also use my own experiences (as an English person) to influence his use of language and mindset. When I first wrote Indoctrination, my partner read some of it and told me to change some of my language choices because I used English slang that isn't very universal. I listened to some of the suggestions but not all because Joo Won would totally call people a "pasty dipshit wanker"; or use words like "chuffed", "gutted", "plastered", "dodgy" (and so on) and use the c-word like it's going out of style (as does almost every English person his age).

In terms of structure, I don't write chronologically. I just write whatever comes to mind and then piece it together and edit like crazy. However, I DO LOVE MAKING NOTES AND WRITING OVERLY DETAILED OUTLINES. So... I guess it depends on the story. My three surprise/procrastination fics that I didn't plan at all (Drone Bomb Me, take my name, and your blessed hands) are some of my favourites. (I wrote DBM in a day- which I don't think I have ever done before lol) We can contrast that against a fic I can't even begin to write because the words refuse to come to me, is living as an 8,000+ word outline.

So..... There's not a lot of method to my madness, just spiteful determination.

(oooooooohhh some cheeky screenshots... now we're getting personal)

Yeah... I'm not sure what else to say. It's all just luck and stress to be honest with you. I haven't written fanfiction in years(!!!). Previously, I was writing an original piece that is currently taking a nap.

I think I have mentioned this to you previously but I'm so very grateful for your kind support and words of encouragement. They mean so, so much to me. I am just a wee insecure baby that is the poster child of dyslexia. I know very little about the proper use (grammar, etc) of my mother tongue because of an unconventional schooling experience, soooo to have you say such lovely things about my work, is just *chef's kiss and tears* perfection. Thank you thank you thank you thank you I hope this answers your questions. I'm not sure I have haha!!

(also, please, get some sleep and make you're eating your favourite foods)

Bye for now!

#answered #beyond evil fanfiction #look at me pretending that I know what I'm doing #what an actress #also I should add tumblr and the fellow creatives on here are a massive inspo #there's some SUPER disgustingly talented people in this fandom #it should be illegal

[araisbored]

L'automne

Oh this is bad. 2 consecutive posts about NIKI, har har. 

In my last post, I said that I hadn’t decided what would be my last song for my Top 5 song from Niki’s album, NICOLE. I’ve also made known on that post that I didn’t like the album that much. But lo and behold, I was wrong. You see, right after I made that post. I immediately got hooked and thought I made a decision about which track would fit on that missing spot.  It turns out to be the most relatable song as of the moment which makes another hoo-ha moment that I think it might also make it to my best Niki song list of all time. And I wanna digest the lyrics of it. (Even though it was pretty self-explanatory if you ask me. I just want to make it legit by writing a post about it.)

If you don’t speak French (like me) then you probably won't get the jazz of the title. And if you do speak the lovely language, then you probably know what the song is about. It’s Autumn, the 9th track of the album. When I heard it first, I hated it. It started weirdly for me, but I guess I’m just not in an analytic mode for me to appreciate such a masterpiece. I talked about it like it was such a complicated song, where in fact it explains itself while listening to it. It wasn’t really complicated. It was late to the entry because it was a ME problem. So to apologize for this track, which turns out to be the most intimate to me. I will make a single post dedicated to her dissecting each verse and hugging each word on it. I believe she was a she (the song). And yes, I do apologize to inanimate objects. Also this post is inspired by this post. The OP did a really good digest of the song. So I decided to totally ripped OP off. Hehehe. Let’s get on with it.

“I carved my name into your ribcage

We talked of lands away from this cage

You said, "Don't fret love

Someday I'll be my own man, I'll be free"

Oh, but darling, did you mean

Darling, did you mean free from me?”

The first verse immediately struck my heart, how come I miss this beautiful piece of poetry.

When a songwriter uses pleonasm or hyperbole (that actually makes sense). Oh boy, you got me.  This is my formula for a perfect singer to stan. 

Ok, just a warning. Before thins get heated. I am no good at analyzing stuff so please take this with a grain of salt and please if you interpret this song differently, don’t let my opinion change what you’ve had for this song. Whether for good or bad. 

The first verse usually introduces the whole song, the one that sets everything. For this verse what I get is that the relationship is about a man who depends on a girl a lot and both of them actually know it. 

“I carved my name into your ribcage…” "Don't fret love. Someday I'll be my own man, I'll be free". 

The girl actually likes that her partner is dependent on her, so when things were falling out between the two of them. She was surprised when the man talked about being free, she never thought that it was her. That she might be one of the things that keep him from that cage.

“You promised home

The kind I'd never known, 

But here we are, skin and flesh and beating hearts, and

I'm wondering what the hell I'm doing wrong

You said, "Let's make ourselves our very own brigade

This love, our shield, our blade"

Oh, but darling, do you see the cuts from which I bleed?

It's me you've slain”

The thing about relationships, like any other, is that you make effort. You share and open up yourself for making the relationship work between the two of you. It became your safety and purpose. So it is quite hurtful when those things that you give are the ones that actually hurt you. Which actually what she said in the next lines: “I didn't obliteratе these walls for you, to come and raid my homе”

The girl puts a lot of effort into a relationship but seems like she’s not getting reciprocated.

This kind of feeling is one of the worst feelings you can have in a relationship. It’s like walking on eggshells. You have no idea whether you’re doing enough, or you need to do more or you’re doing more. But despite your willingness to do everything, you’re still clueless about what your partner feels because you’re afraid to ask. Or you’re afraid to know. 

“And here you are, right next to me

Ironically, I've never felt more alone.”

“I fell for you, faster than I fell apart (Hmm)

And I guess I'm the one to blame

For letting myself fall too hard

I ripped my heart out and put it in your hands

In hope that we'd put up a fight (Hmm)

How paradoxical, since now

All I can think about is when will we stop trying”

As the song progresses, she’s finally realizing that the relationship was so one-sided and that she’s tired of getting blindsided. Giving yourself wholeheartedly in a relationship was always a bad thought. If we’re being honest, I am also in a debate with myself whether it is idealistically to give everything you have. But I guess you’ll only know as you go through the years. But it keeps me wondering, why would you feel empty or exhausted in giving your whole self, if you love yourself as a whole. If you do love yourself, you’ll never run out of something. But to be able to do that you really need to be a whole person. A complete one, when you enter a relationship. This is why some relationships fail and some work. And this whole thing was scary. 

“How do we stay afloat?

When do I let go?

All you do is blindside me, it's hard to be brave

But when the night cuts into the day, it's your love I crave

I must've thanked my lucky stars too much

They left me sitting in too much dust (Hmm, oh-oh)

You know all my dreams, you were one, so it seemed

And I love you but with you, it's heartache I breathe.

You gave it your all, just with everything you took from me”

And this goes back to what I said, that the relationship needs work. I believe it is work. Some might say that if you really found the one you love you wouldn’t find yourself working, it would just flow smoothly. But then again, it won’t be that hard if you’re working with someone. It’s always a two-person work. So if you find yourself having a hard time. Well, maybe you’re the only one getting the work. And if you don’t experience this, then you’re lucky or maybe you should ask your partner if there’s something that you’re missing.

This is a heartbreaking song because it was a moment when you know that this is it and it’s time. She finally realized her limits and that she was tired of working the relationship all by herself. It might be the hardest and the saddest moment of her life but it will be all worth it at the end. (I just know it)

It would be another kind of work for her, but it would be as beautiful as ever when done. Because it would finally be her being free from that cage. Not a lot of girls can say that and I wish for all of us to finally be free from what’s keeping us from wherever we're supposed to be.

I love this song because, sadly, I think I might be stuck in this situation. I am no expert on everything and I think I still do a lot of wrong things. But this song makes me realize all of it. It’s also good to know that I am not alone in experiencing all of this. It’s good (and oddly weird) to find companionship through anonymity. There are other girls. And I hope all men die. And I can’t explain it any further. The thing that I like the most about this song is the use of Pleonasm and Hyperboles. Or any kind of figure of speech is there. I told you good storytelling in a song will get you to my Stan 4ever list.  Niki really knows her way to her words and how she will deliver. I hoped I'd known and hyped this song after its release because I didn’t do it as much as it deserves. 

I don’t know how much I’ve said these but: “Niki, I love you.” Despite you being alone in those situations you give the world a song that allows others to mourn along with you. I know that you’re happy and making bread on your Instagram stories, and I am very happy for you. I did pester you to release something like this since you release your second album and I’m sorry for not appreciating this the first time I heard of it. The bullying is necessary for you to give me this album. Hey, it worked. And it’s your best by far. Please continue sharing your stories with us.

Ara xx

#music #NIKI #NICOLE #Autumn #album digest

[captainkurosolaire]

Update ~ Return & The Swan Song 365 Challenge

365 Marks the number of days I will be challenging myself to and that voyage starts tomorrow. I will have this be my swan song. Yes it’s true no one hits harder than life, but what it’s really about is toughness, not power. Enduring is what makes us still stand, that's getting to the last round and that’s how you win. One hit and it’s just defense. And... that’s what I’m going to do! (I’m going raw in-depth beneath the cut.)

I’ve left pieces of my heart into the possession of many and I’ve watched them soon after throw and neglect it into the trash. Time and energy spent accosting my vitality. And it’s not on them strictly, it’s my own fault for being careless of the importance of where I devote myself too. I have left pieces of my body being torn and dissected to try fixing a disease and body that continues to decay and now is inoperable to fix from the holes carved into me. Hospital visits erased my opportunities and allowed me to stand side line oddly. I still recall being stuck there for a month, and I was bet against. Told I wasn’t strong enough. Watching my dreams shatter from Olympics, wrestling, everything gone, but one vital thing.

My mind is still intact. Although I deplete and have bitter limits. As long as I have that, I still have all I need. But expression is what I believe is the most important thing being’s bring; inside art you can prove that. In that atmosphere, you create worlds. And while you may get destroyed, you can convert that into something better. When things die like dreams, they can be recreated and transformed into a whole new positive landscape and impact.

I push myself to boundaries, challenge cause I need nothing ever wasted again. There is a way to do that. I can turn my entire life of years into memories good and bad, and bear it all on the table, in ONE full year... I can turn into stories, experiences, adventures. I can put it all into form and unleash it. Reveal my truth.

See although people have entrusted pieces of them to me. I have never lost it. And they are still important to me, to immortalize because every scar physically and mentally builds no matter how it’s constructed and molds you. I’ve always been second-rate in almost every regard, but I have never felt that way when sharing here and I continue to prosper and push because of the fondness and the out-pour of all the encouraging people who’ve tuned in, no matter the gaps in my appearances, or it almost seemingly like I’ve gone off to the seas and abandoned them on the shores.

I always return as one of the few constants.

Three months last year, I should just go for that alone as a benchmark, or go the normal idea and go for a consistent goal of Four, but I want more, more and more. In my heart of hearts.

One year. That’s where I want to go.

I will lay out every single emotion and I will turn it into some sort of screen set, writing, gif, comedic skits, poetry, lyrics, something to productively let out daily. Of course, I've had a handicap for one month and although that seems like a lot of distance to be ahead of me and easily achievable, I assure you all it takes is one bad day and that’s gone. A shifting wrong blow from life and it’s gone and I’m out.

Even if I don’t make the criteria of this challenge, I’ve set forth. I’ll still be happy with what I did and my opinion, alongside the love that I still can give myself daily, doesn’t change anything. 'Cause I did what makes me feel alive. Though I strongly believe, I can win this distance.

The reason is -- I’ve already succeeded in getting a month’s worth of work. Where my passion was perceived as a fire, thinking it dimmed, that the blaze couldn’t come back. I assure you, I’ve found it’s an explosive now.

It’s in my gratitude to all those who over the years have been on a life journey, being beside me, going through it all. Watching me adapt, evolve. I’m certain sometimes, there could’ve been questions if I was diminishing or regressing.

My duty is to hopefully aspire and inspire and I can take it that wasn’t easy. So that’s my apology if I’ve ever let your expectations down.

But now, if you stuck with me in this wild ride, I will deliver you the best that I’ve held in holding and couldn’t get too.

I owe it all to those who’ve come and slithered in whispers against me, targeted me with poison, aided in doubt. Thank you for allowing me to inject that into myself. It took a considerable amount of time to learn how to turn that poison into something useful, but I’ve found the antidote and gained beyond a tolerance to it, but immunity.

For those who’ve been my stars, who've been my guiding compass to return, who saw my spark, and encouraged me. Watching me leaping into turning my spark into a lightning strike here and there, I owe you a few worlds. Consider them created. I’ll go from lightning to thunder! And from there, I’ll become a whole thunderstorm of unbridled passion!

Even to those who often remain without even my presence, I have all my heart for you in this and it has given me my conviction to overcome. I’ll bring warmth into even the shadows themselves.

I’m out to develop a new writing style and form of art and trespass into it and ideally if it works, I’ll master it. If doable, I’ll be telling stories in this format. Not only easier to absorb but better for me too. But I haven’t given up, I attend to create all Captain’s stories, arcs, which I’ve hundreds remaining. Though this will allow me to ease it up and turn it into an alternative until I do so. I’m also going to be developing Captain’s final state and character arc, leading him up to being his pinnacle, prior to him going for his Last Voyage. This is a better idea instead, because it allows me to not only return to RP anywhere, but prevent partners from having to contend with any Story that is happening anymore. Now it’s strictly stories that are happening / stories that have happened. I'll be allowing them to be filled out / teased in my new style, and also one day, whenever not this challenge, I’m back to writing again, I can go at it.

Things haven’t changed though I’ll work on getting back to answering more stuff, being easier reachable for stuff. But most importantly, Build. Support. Hoist. Back to showcasing a lot of your inspiring tales, amazing works. You’ve kept all the engine running and that’s what matters. We’re all in this as a crew. Thank you for taking care of the helms and still never halting either in going through your tides. You’re what makes those seek fortune.

As always much love out to you hearties and glad to be on this vessel again, thanks for being embodiment's of treasure. But it’s land ho!

#Swan Song Challenge #<----- #Be the tag #Still use daily practice #Gonna be jumping all over the place again with creative stuff #Try new things out a lot #Posts around 1PM CST #Hopefully get that 365 #I'm excited for what I don't even know yet #OOC #Update #Status #We back #Hop into answering some asks from prior #Had some set-backs already #But I've got the grit

[transsexualhamlet]

16 but I want an essay on it 17 for the hannibal fic ur working on specifically and 27

hellooooo seb seb seb :)

ask game - writing wrapped

16. Who was your favorite character to write?

I think for this year it has to be between Nikolai and Party Poison? Somehow they are both the same brand and fucking opposite characters. I think it mostly comes down to their environment because at their core they have that same balance of hyperactivity, immaturity, and thrill seeking violence seeking bullshit that hides the underbelly of "this 20 something is already so fucking disillusioned with life that they are on the verge of a break with reality". You know. I think if they ever met each other they would give each other the autistic stare, shake hands, and mutually agree to kill each other in the most violent way possible. But at the same time they're so fucking different??? In no world would Nikolai manage to bond positively with a child im sorry it just. I don't think it could happen I think he would want it to happen but he would end up throwing it out the window. Poison didn't Mean to ofc but it just sorta happened. And Poison has an arc where he gets Better as much as it still ends badly and the whole thing is supposed to be at least a little heartwarming and well. Nikolai just gets worse lol

And I'm aware that my entire characterization of Party Poison is pretty much all made up past the bare bones of what danger days gives you and yknow like. Two panels in killjoys. And I guess whatever fanon I can assemble without reading fics and ruining the joy of making shit up myself. But they're literally such a fucking specimen for fucking real I am having so much fun dissecting that thang (Party Poison)

17. What songs did you listen to while writing?

For the Hannibal fic specifically?? Oh that's interesting well you see??? I can't listen to music with words while I'm writing because then I'll just end up writing the lyrics, getting distracted, never getting anything done etc. I listen to weird ass shit with no words. But for the Hannibal fic I've been listening to the song Ares on the Safe In The Steep Cliffs album by Emancipator on fucking repeat it's sooo good and it has kind of the same vibe as the piece as in. A silent calm abandoned place built in the ancient fighting grounds of gods where snow covers ruins and giant columns crumble under their own weight. You know. Normal lofi music.

27. What books, movies, etc helped instruct your storytelling this year?

I mean I generally write fanfic so I mean. The source material is obviously the inspiration for it. But I do have some original stuff and lemme tell you American Psycho really inspired one of my stories for school (does not elaborate in the slightest)

I think the book Leech by Hiron Ennes has inspired me in General. It's literally so fucking good I cannot stand it I ate that thing up like autism favorite food it's so fucking scrumptious (it's 80 percent gothic horror and medical gore 20 percent the most mindbreakingly well built sci fi lore that barely gets elaborated on) But it's. Seriously I cannot recommend it more it's not even about queer people it's about Parasites and Diseases but you can tell it's written by a queer person in the best way I want to eat Hiron's brain

#rowan gets yelled at #ask game #please feel free to ask more everyone this is SO fun

[basic-otaku]

My thoughts on Xue Yang's character (based on the drama and novel)

Xue Yang is a character I didn’t fully understand until I finished The Untamed. I looked back on him with a bit of pity but little understanding. It wasn’t until I listened to his character song that I truly began to dissect his character. Reading those lyrics completely flipped my perspective on him, and I went back to watch the Yi City arc again. I was shocked by how much I had missed. Xue Yang has since become one of my favorite characters of the series. I’ve spent so much time thinking about him and his motives that I finally decided to write down my thoughts. This analysis comes mostly from what I perceived, so it may differ from other people’s opinions. You are free to disagree with me.

Let’s start with what we know: Xue Yang was a street kid with a hard childhood. We know he was abandoned at a young age, but we don’t know how young. However, he must have been old enough to survive, so he couldn’t have been younger than four when he started fending for himself. We don’t know who his parents are because he doesn’t remember them, nor does he remember anyone else who had potentially taken care of him. His parents could be dead for all we know, or they could have dumped him somewhere when they no longer wanted to take care of him. It’s all up to speculation. He also has a very high pain tolerance, probably due to constant beatings as a child.

When you’re all alone in the world, you have to learn to put yourself first. There’s no one to care for you, so only you can care for yourself. I believe that Xue Yang wasn’t always a bad person because no one is inherently evil. However, because he was alone, there was no one to nurture him and teach him right from wrong. When all you experience is violence and hatred, that becomes your response to similar situations; you don’t expect kindness or want to give it in return.

One of Xue Yang’s flaws as a child was his naivety — he was much too quick to trust. That’s how he got himself into such a bad situation. He was eager to have something he was never able to have (candy), so he immediately trusted that shopkeeper when he said he could have some as a reward for running an errand. What he got in return wasn’t candy, but a brutal beating and a severed pinky. If Xue Yang had still had any faith left in humanity, this is the point where it would have left him. The remaining childhood innocence in him was gone. This brings me to an interesting piece of dialogue. In Yi City, when Xue Yang confronts Song Lan and tells him what he’s been up to, Song Lan curses at him, calling him an animal. Xue Yang laughs at him and says, “I quit using those words when I was seven.” And what happened to Xue Yang’s finger? “One finger was ground into battered flesh on the spot. The child was seven.” Even Xue Yang himself knows that moment was when everything changed, and he still carries the resentment with him now.

Back to the cart incident. This event scarred him for life and was the primary reason he became a sociopath. Now he’s bent on revenge. He was powerless as a child; just another street rat who shouldn’t be treated like a human being nor spared any pity. So, when he realizes he can do the same to those that hurt him, he takes it much further. When he was old enough and strong enough, he exacts his revenge. He wanted to make the Chang Clan feel his pain — not only for the finger he had lost but for his whole miserable life up to that point. If no one deigned to understand him, then he’d make them understand in the only way he knew how. With violence.

Xue Yang was only fifteen or sixteen when he slaughtered the Chang Clan, killing more than fifty people. This is where he meets Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan. From the first moment, Xue Yang hates Xiao Xingchen. He’s so righteous, so full of light. He thinks he makes the world better just by doing a little good. What a hypocrite. Where was he when he was needed? Where was he when Xue Yang was a seven-year-old boy left crying in the streets after having his finger ground to a pulp? No, nobody can be that good.

When Xue Yang is captured by Wei Wuxian and the others, Xiao Xingchen takes him back to Qinghe to be apprehended, and Xue Yang vows to get his revenge on Xiao Xingchen for it. It isn’t long after he escapes from Qinghe that Xue Yang slaughters Baixue Temple, blinding Song Lan in the process. According to Xue Yang’s logic, hurting Xiao Xingchen’s friend is just as bad as hurting Xiao Xingchen himself. This is what causes the rift between Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan. Without this incident, Xue Yang and Xiao Xingchen may never have met again.

A few years have likely passed while Xue Yang was working for Jin Guangyao. He is probably closer to eighteen or nineteen when Jin Guangyao injures him and throws him out, which is how Xiao Xingchen and A-Qing find him. Xiao Xingchen doesn’t hesitate in bringing Xue Yang back to Yi City with him and A-Qing and caring for his wounds. Xue Yang wakes up pained and disoriented, but he immediately tries to back away when he realizes who is tending to him. He doesn’t know Xiao Xingchen is unaware of his identity, and probably thinks that Xiao Xingchen is getting ready to take him to face justice or something. But Xiao Xingchen insists that he doesn’t need to know who Xue Yang is and that he’s only doing what’s right. Xue Yang is clearly shocked by this admission. He truly cannot comprehend kindness, and this is the first time he’s ever experienced it.

This is also the first time we get to see his genuine smile. It’s shocked and incredulous, like he can’t believe this is happening, but it’s there. Throughout the series, Xue Yang’s snarky words and sly smirk are a token of his character, but now we know they are just a mask he uses to hide the small, broken child inside of him. If no one can see the hurt he hides, then no one can hurt him further. But with just one kind gesture, Xiao Xingchen was able to bring out the young boy who just wanted love and comfort.

This kindness is such a foreign concept to Xue Yang that he doesn’t think it’s genuine for a long time. But as the years pass, Xue Yang comes to realize that Xiao Xingchen isn’t a threat. This is something he scoffs at. Xiao Xingchen is ridiculously naïve; so stupid. If he knew who he was living with, who he was eating with, he wouldn’t act like this. He would treat Xue Yang the same way everyone else had. So, Xue Yang decides to trick Xiao Xingchen into murdering innocent people for revenge. Xue Yang can’t wait for Xiao Xingchen to find out what Xue Yang has made him do because it’ll break him. What this revenge is for is up to interpretation. Maybe he’s still angry about being captured and sent to Qinghe. Maybe he’s angry at the world for treating him so badly. Maybe Xue Yang wants to show Xiao Xingchen that his worldview is stupid and that there are no good or pure people in the world. I choose to believe that it’s the last one.

At least, this is his motivation at first — he slowly loses the will to harm Xiao Xingchen. This brings me to another interesting point. In episode three, Xue Yang says he doesn’t fear death, he fears boredom. But isn’t this domestic life he’s living with Xiao Xingchen and A-Qing considered boring by his standards? I think the boredom he speaks of is really the fear of being alone and having nothing at all. Now he’s happy, however reluctantly he’s willing to admit it. He wouldn’t have put up with A-Qing’s petulant behavior if he didn’t enjoy the time they spent together. Although they didn’t get along at first, Xue Yang protects A-Qing and takes care of her like an annoying older brother. He teases her, sure, but he also cuts her apple slices in the shape of rabbits and gives her advice on how to scare away the people who bully her (even though killing them isn’t great advice). Xiao Xingchen and A-Qing were the family he never had. Now he would do anything to preserve the life he is living.

After about a year, Xue Yang’s plan stopped being about revenge. I’m not completely sure how he justified this change of heart, but I like to think he told himself he was still biding his time and that he’d get back to it eventually (even if he had stopped thinking about hurting Xiao Xingchen). Based on what A-Qing told Song Lan when he arrived at Yi City, Xue Yang hadn’t taken Xiao Xingchen out on one of those night hunts in a long time. And most of the people that Xue Yang made Xiao Xingchen kill were the merchants that made fun of his blindness and cheated him with bad vegetables and high prices. It was a messed-up way to get revenge for Xiao Xingchen. Xue Yang hates being looked down on, so shouldn’t Xiao Xingchen feel the same way?

Nevertheless, the time they spent in Yi City was probably the only time Xue Yang had been happy in his entire life. Xiao Xingchen was so in tune with what Xue Yang needed that Xue Yang came to care for him deeply. Whether those feelings were romantic or platonic in nature is up to the viewer, but I believe Xue Yang had fallen in love with Xiao Xingchen in the only sick and twisted way he could. Xiao Xingchen understood him more than anyone ever had, going so far as to listen to his idle ramblings and bring him a piece of candy every day after hearing that he had loved sweets as a child but could never have any. He managed to tame the savage beast in Xue Yang’s heart with only his presence and basic human decency. Xue Yang’s bloodlust was satiated as long as he had Xiao Xingchen to take care of him. At this point, I don’t think he would ever actually kill Xiao Xingchen. He had stopped wanting to hurt him a long time ago. A-Qing? Sure. She’s expendable, but Xiao Xingchen is irreplaceable. Even if Xue Yang reluctantly came to care about her, it wasn’t the same kind of bond. She had never shown him the same kindness that Xiao Xingchen had. He wouldn’t hesitate to hurt her if she betrayed him, but she was important to Xiao Xingchen, which meant he couldn’t do her any harm if he didn’t want to disrupt their happy life.

If Song Lan hadn’t found them, how long would Xue Yang have stayed? I don’t even think he knew. He just knew that he didn’t want to leave anymore. Xiao Xingchen gave him too much for him to want that. The viewer can easily see the happiness in his eyes when he looks at Xiao Xingchen. Xue Yang acts like a kid around him — playing games, joking around, making him laugh with childish remarks. Even in the quiet moments, he’s happy. This was especially noticeable in the campfire scene. It wasn’t shown in the original drama, but in the special edition, Xue Yang smiled at Xiao Xingchen from across the fire, and the look in his eyes as he gazed at his daozhang was so tender that it honestly caught me off guard. It seemed to catch Xue Yang off guard too because he caught himself, and the smile slowly fell. It’s like he realized what he’s doing and remembered that this should be about revenge.

Where in the past, Xue Yang hated Xiao Xingchen for his righteousness, he now loves him for his naivety. Without it, Xue Yang knows that Xiao Xingchen would be disgusted with himself. There would be no more laughs, no more games, and no more smiles. Then Xue Yang would lose the one person who didn’t treat him like dirt. So, when Song Lan finds them, Xue Yang immediately perceives it as a threat to their domestic life. He knows how important Song Lan is to Xiao Xingchen, and there’s no doubt in his mind that Xiao Xingchen won’t hesitate to leave with Song Lan when he discovers Xue Yang’s identity.

Furthermore, Xue Yang resents Song Lan for taking Xiao Xingchen’s eyes (even though it was voluntary on Xiao Xingchen’s part and was essentially Xue Yang’s fault). His logic tells him that having Xiao Xingchen kill Song Lan would be the perfect way for Xiao Xingchen to get his revenge. What Xue Yang doesn’t understand is that not everyone thinks about things in the context of revenge. I don’t believe Xiao Xingchen ever truly regretted giving up his sight. But Xue Yang can’t comprehend how someone could be that selfless.

This is where it all falls apart. A-Qing sees what happened to Song Lan, and she runs to Xiao Xingchen and tells him everything. When Xiao Xingchen comes back to confront him, Xue Yang spills it all. There’s nothing left for him to lose. His mask falls again, and he basically bares his soul to Xiao Xingchen. This is probably the first time he’s told the story about his finger, and I think he genuinely thought Xiao Xingchen was going to understand him; that if he knew what Xue Yang went through, he’d sympathize with him and justify his action (thereby justifying his feelings). Instead of that, however, Xiao Xingchen calls him disgusting, and it flips a switch inside of Xue Yang. How can Xiao Xingchen call him disgusting when he’s killed people too?

I think one of the reasons Xue Yang led Xiao Xingchen to kill those people was to bring Xiao Xingchen down to his level. Xue Yang doesn’t think that anyone can be as good as Xiao Xingchen claimed to be, so he had to taint his perfect record. Maybe if he killed people, Xiao Xingchen would understand him. Xue Yang thought that when Xiao Xingchen found out, he’d stay with him. Now he’s not the same righteous person he used to be, so how could he be good enough to travel the world with Song Lan? No, he should stay with Xue Yang instead and live a happy life together.

So, when Xiao Xingchen calls him disgusting, Xue Yang was probably confused and upset, which made him instinctively put his mask back up. Being vulnerable only hurt him again, so he’s back to harsh words and smirks, telling Xiao Xingchen that this is why he’s always hated him and that all of this was fun. Fun in every sense of the word: the killing and the happiness.

Xiao Xingchen finding out that he killed Song Lan was the last straw. Xue Yang is still laughing as Xiao Xingchen slits his own throat. It takes a moment for the realization to set in, but as it does, the smile falls from Xue Yang’s lips, and his hands begin to shake. This is the third time his mask has fallen. His eyes begin to well with tears, but he tries to keep up his act, saying that dead ones are easier to control, but the only one he’s acting for is himself.

The next scene is the one that really solidified Xue Yang’s feelings for me. He cleans the blood from Xiao Xingchen’s skin with the same care that Xiao Xingchen had shown him when he first found Xue Yang in that ditch. Xue Yang clearly thinks that Xiao Xingchen is going to come back and that the ritual will work, that he staves off his tears and sets out food for both of them. He considers eating his candy but then decides he should wait until Xiao Xingchen comes back. If he’s back, then Xue Yang is sure to get another piece.

When he realizes that the ritual isn’t working and Xiao Xingchen isn’t coming back, he breaks down. The tantrum he throws is so full of rage and anguish that it really shows the depth of his feelings for Xiao Xingchen. Again, he goes back to acting, trying to guilt Xiao Xingchen’s dead body into coming back to life by telling him all the terrible things he’ll do to Song Lan and A-Qing if he doesn’t reawaken. Obviously, Xiao Xingchen can’t hear him, and Xue Yang knows this, even if he doesn’t want to admit it. He finally dissolves into tears, screaming and crying over Xiao Xingchen’s corpse. This may have been the first time he’s cried since he lost his finger. Crying is for innocent, naïve children, and it doesn’t help anybody. But now Xue Yang has had a taste of pure sweetness and doesn’t want to go back to the bitter life he has known, so he finally lets himself weep for all the things he could have had.

Xue Yang spent the next seven years trying to bring Xiao Xingchen back to life with no success. We don’t know much about his activities after Yi City, but we have gotten information through rumors that Shuanghua was being used to kill innocents. It seems like Xue Yang wanted to keep a part of Xiao Xingchen with him. He even continued his sick revenge plot after Xiao Xingchen’s death by gouging out the eyes of and killing the remains of the Chang Clan, including their leader, Chang Ping, by lingchi. Xue Yang doesn’t blame himself in the slightest; he just thinks that Xiao Xingchen’s death was an unfortunate consequence of the situation. He will put the blame on anyone and everyone other than himself. Thus, instead of performing lingchi on himself like Wei Wuxian suggested, he takes out his anger on the remains of the Chang Clan.

Everything Xue Yang does in the present is tied to Xiao Xingchen, yet he still can’t bring him back. So, when he heard that the Yiling Patriarch had suddenly come back to life, Xue Yang knew it was his last chance. The sword ghost/ghost arm is what led Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji to Yi City. It was pointing to its murderer. I’m sure Xue Yang could have avoided a confrontation if he wanted, but this was intentional. As for the juniors, I have a feeling that Xue Yang was behind the cat corpses that led them to meet up with Wei Wuxian. This is still unclear though because Xue Yang doesn’t have a real reason to get them involved. The only person he needs is Wei Wuxian.

Xue Yang has tried everything at this point. So, when Wei Wuxian finds him in Yi City, pretending to be Xiao Xingchen, he is completely desperate. I do wonder if that is something he has done more than once. Did he often go around dressed as Xiao Xingchen? Was he playing with the life they had in Yi City? Pretending he was still there? Or was it a one-time thing to trick Wei Wuxian into dropping his guard? I also wonder how often he used his own sword because only after Lan Zhan took Shuanghua from him did he pull out Jiangzai. That could be because he was acting as Xiao Xingchen, but we can’t be sure. However, that isn’t the point. Right now, Wei Wuxian was Xue Yang’s only option because the Yiling Patriarch surely knew things he didn’t. Xue Yang had lived with Xiao Xingchen’s corpse for those seven years, keeping him in pristine condition. I’m pretty sure the only way Xue Yang could have done this was by giving him spiritual energy every day, which would be incredibly draining. I don’t think Xue Yang had an exceptionally strong golden core to begin with either. He is primarily a demonic cultivator, which means he doesn’t use his golden core often. It must have taken most of his strength to keep Xiao Xingchen’s body in such good condition. But anything for daozhang, right? Xue Yang needed Xiao Xingchen’s body to be perfect when he returned. He also put aside his pride and used Song Lan for protection all those years. He kept the one person he continued to hate with a burning passion around him for so long.

When Wei Wuxian tells Xue Yang he can’t bring Xiao Xingchen back to life because his soul is too broken, Xue Yang refuses to believe it. It’s been seven years already; he can’t give up now. Deep down, I believe Xue Yang knows Xiao Xingchen wouldn’t want anything to do with him even if he did come back, but he can’t figure out why. Because nothing was his fault, of course.

Something Wei Wuxian said really struck me as I went back to rewatch episode 39. Before the fight, Wei Wuxian turns to Xue Yang and says, “you disgust him to the core, yet you still want to pull him back to play this stupid game.” Xue Yang responds with “I want nothing of the kind.” And he’s being honest. He doesn’t want a stupid game — he wants something real. He wants a life where Xiao Xingchen knows his identity and stays with him in spite of it. He just wants one person to accept him as he is, but that will never, nor could ever, happen —not with all the crimes he has committed.

When Lan Wangji cut off his arm, leaving Xue Yang bleeding on the ground, I think he knew it was over. There was nothing left for him now. He was never getting Xiao Xingchen back. He never had him in the first place, not in any way that counted. So he laughs, blood spilling from his lips, to cover up the tears he wishes he could cry.

He’s ready when Song Lan stabs him, dying with a smile on his face as he gazes at the last piece of candy Xiao Xingchen had ever given him. It’s blackened and inedible, yet Xue Yang held on to it for so long; it was a reminder of his daozhang and of why he was fighting so hard. Like his character song said, he was “too determined to let go.”

It’s kind of sad that even in death, he was never respected by anyone other than Xiao Xingchen, and all of that was built on a lie. He didn’t even get a proper burial, although I suppose he kind of deserved it. Xue Yang is the character I pity the most in this series. He isn’t a good person, nowhere near it, and he deserved the end he got, but I wish things could have been different. What hurts is that it just as easily could have been Wei Wuxian. If Xue Yang had been taken in as a child; if he’d had his own Jiang Fengmian, his own Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli, he could have been happier. Maybe none of this would have happened. Maybe he would have met Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan and started a sect with them. Realistically, he and Xiao Xingchen would never be lovers because Xiao Xingchen was so strongly connected to Song Lan, but I think they could have been friends.

However, one question I still have is did Xue Yang fall in love with Xiao Xingchen because of how he treated him or because of the person Xiao Xingchen really was? If they had met under different circumstances (and if Xue Yang had had a support system when he was young), would Xue Yang have still fallen in love with him? I guess that’s up to the viewer to decide.

Ultimately, Xue Yang is still a sociopath who can’t understand empathy or feel remorse, so I don’t think he regretted any of his crimes. However, I do believe that Xue Yang regretted the consequences of his actions in Yi City. He didn’t want Xiao Xingchen to die, but his actions were what caused his death. It’s more of a dissatisfaction with where things ended up than feeling guilty for his death. Although I don’t think Xue Yang felt remorseful, that doesn’t mean he wasn’t grieving, nor does it mean his feelings for Xiao Xingchen weren’t as genuine as they could have been.

I don’t know where Xue Yang or Xiao Xingchen will end up now, but I hope they’ll both be happy in their next lives. The same goes for A-Qing and Song Lan (when he finally meets his true end). There are so many things that contributed to Xue Yang’s unstable mind, but I think the moral of the story is that it pays to be kind. If just one person had taken pity on him as a child — had shown him that there was good in the world — I wonder what kind of person he would have become.

I already know how cruel fate is

Not looking, not asking, not grieving, not hating

Waiting to relive my life just for a single person

Ups and downs in life

I would leave no regrets

I tried searching in the darkness of night

When I am trapped in the past

I still hope that a flicker of light will appear in my heart

The legend of this lonely city

Who came here before?

And gifted to me my karma

I am waiting for this karma to liberate spirits, liberate souls, and liberate me

Even though I am already too determined to let go

If I get rid of these inner demons

Would you forgive me?

Gaining freedom from destiny, starting all over again

#xue yang #yi city #xuexiao #xiao xingchen #song lan #song zichen #fandom essay #character study #character analysis #a qing #wei wuxian #lan wangji #jin guangyao #the untamed #cql #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #featuring XY's character song lyrics for maximum ouch #why do I love the evil candyman #someone explain #he is tragic sad boi #still don't forgive him tho #XXC deserved better #but then again #so did XY

[foodieforthoughts]

Down in History

Summary: Your first award function with Henry as a couple.

Pairing: Henry x Reader

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: Fluffy comfort

A/N: This is a birthday fic dedicated to the wonderful Lisa (@killjoy-assbutt-1112). Babe you deserve the world and here's to me trying to make your day a little brighter. Hope you enjoy and I'm sorry I'm a day late. 🙈

Also, thank you to @the-soot-sprite for helpful writing tips and @infinite-shite for listening to me talk about this. ❤️

Song inspo:

Title: Down in History

I looked out the window as hordes of paparazzi lined outside to snap a picture of their favorite celebs. The police tried to contain the crowd, failing miserably like I was failing to contain my growing anxiety.

Closing the curtains, I turned to the beautiful dress hanging on the mannequin. It was a gift from Henry for our first red carpet event tonight. I ran a hand lightly over the satin dress, feeling the silky fabric glid smoothly beneath my touch. The bodice was embroidered with silver crystals, glinting as the light caught in them.

I chewed on my bottom lip and wound my arms around my body. I was nervous beyond explanation. The media had dissected our relationship left, right and centre. They had scrutinized Henry for being with a girl who was nearly two decades younger than him, again.

"Miss," Maurice peered from behind the door, her cat-eyed glasses perched low on her nose. "We need to start getting ready." She informed and with a nod from me, she entered with her posse behind her.

I sat on the swirling chair they had placed in front of the mirror. While the ladies got to their work, I took the opportunity to look into my relationship with Henry.

As soon as our meetings became more frequent and the paps started getting more content, our faces started to appear on blogs and websites. My life became an open book with everyone trying to pull it apart piece by piece, commenting on things they had no business getting into. I had a fair idea about Henry's 19 year old ex-girlfriend and how much slack he had gotten for it. It was the sole reason why I was reluctant to officially date him even when he persistently asked for it.

After months of running into each other every day on our daily morning runs, Henry had finally stopped me for a chat one day. I had been a bubbling bundle of nerves when he had asked my name. The sexy Hollywood heartthrob seemed like he had planned on bumping into me that day for his questions seemed like he had memorized them. I wasn't the one to complain and when he had asked if I was free for coffee, I had agreed in a heartbeat.

"He's in the other room, miss. Maurice insisted that this room should be Female Central."

"Where's Henry?" I asked, turning slightly in my seat to look at our assistant sitting on a chair typing on her iPad. "I didn't see him since morning."

"Guilty." Maurice commented as she curled the ends of my hair to fall down my shoulder in waves. "Are you nervous?" She asked, talking to me through the reflection in the mirror.

"Very. I think I'll pass out even before I reach the red carpet."

She tapped lightly on my shoulder. "Don't worry. I heard Henry tell his friend he's not going to leave your side the entire night."

Despite all his efforts, I had once almost broken up with him. Henry had been away for filming and I had stayed back at his house. Somehow my location had gotten out to the public and I had been chased by the paps and fans, asking questions about Henry. I had locked myself in his house, too afraid to go out and when Henry was unavailable for calls because of the time difference, I had been a crying mess. In the heat of the moment, I had texted him that once he is back it is going to be over for us. After a long call later in the night, lots of crying and soothing, we had pulled through.

I felt a flutter in my heart.

Henry had been the most supportive boyfriend in the world. He had been with me through thick and thin, gently easing me in his life. He had promised me that whenever possible, he wouldn't let anyone harm my image in anyway. And he had rightfully held his promise. He had assigned PR representatives to look after my public image and gone as far as to make a big celeb gossip blog retract their article spreading personal information about my life.

Maurice eased me into my dress with the help of her assistants and started making the necessary adjustments to it. I stood with my arms out, looking at myself in the mirror and marveled at the image that looked back at me.

I worried about how people were going to perceive me tonight. They were going to complain how the dress had lost its charm because it was on me. Or they would comment how I look like Henry's child, like they always did. Or maybe this time they'll comment on the way my body was built.

My eyes welled up in tears and I sniffed, looking up and trying to not ruin the makeup. A knock on the door, distracted me from my inner turmoil. I waited for one of the ladies to open it and when they did, the sight in front of me nearly took my breath away.

Henry looked daper in a suit, made to perfectly fit his body. His eyes softened as he took notice of me and he entered through the door to walk towards me. "What's wrong baby?" He asked and took my hands in his.

Maurice and her assistants were done with their work on the dress and they quietly left the room to give us some privacy. I felt my lips tremble as the self doubt began clouding in my mind.

"I-I'm scared." I muttered. The welling tears in my eyes were threatening to fall down.

"But why? I'll be by your side the whole time. You don't have to worry about anything." He reassured me, walking me towards the bed and making me sit beside him.

"They are going to comment on our age," I mumbled quietly, twirling my fingers in a curl, refusing to look at him.

"I don't care, baby. And you shouldn't either. What's important is that we love each other and I accept you for who you are."

I weakly smiled at him as Henry kissed my cheek. The tears were threatening to fall but I managed to blink them away. He held my hand, gently circling his thumb over my skin in circles. I heard him sigh and run his free hand through his hair.

"What?" I asked, worried he had something running in his own mind.

"I was going to do this after the event, but-" He said before sliding down the bed and on his knee.

My mouth fell open, stunned at the turn of events. I stared at him wide eyed as Henry fished out a signature blue Tiffany&Co box from his pocket. He smiled sheepishly at me as I could only stare at him.

"Henry, what are you..."

"Baby, I love you. I have been searching for a person like you my whole life. I have never been happier before in my life. I don't care what people say, all I want is to spend the rest of my life with you." He pressed his lips, trying to breathe calmly. "Will you marry me, baby?"

Henry opened the box leaving me mesmerized by the beautiful double halo diamond ring sitting on the plush velvet cushion. But it wasn't the ring that made me cry, it was the love that seemed to be overflowing from within me for this man. I didn't care about the ruined makeup, nor the sobbing mess I was becoming.

I barely could nod a 'yes', before Henry with tears in his eyes smiled brightly up at me. He sat up and pulled me in for a hug as I wound my arms around his neck. He kissed my lips softly, before he pulled the ring out of its box. I bit my lip and watched as he slid the platinum band on my finger, overwhelmed by the rush of emotions as it sat snugly around my slim digit.

"Now, let's go to the event and let everyone know that you aren't just my girlfriend, but also my future wife." Henry said before kissing me until I couldn't breathe.

#Henry Cavill #Henry Cavill fanfic #Henry Cavill x reader #Henry Cavill rpf #Rpf #Lisa's birthday fic

[dwlrmoon]

Astrological Analysis: I.M "Duality"

An astrological analysis of I.M's solo album "Duality" & how his astrological placements manifest through the songs. Changkyun said that he poured his entire soul into this album, so I thought it'll be really cool to dissect the songs in the astrological lens because I'm in love with his artistry.

REMINDER

Observed & analyzed through western tropical astrology; we are missing information due to lack of confirmed birth time, so I can only deliver using the traditional 7 planets (mainly the personal chart) without a house system.

DUALITY

Having the album entitled "Duality" with songs expressing this topic (esp. the title track) reminds me of his Aquarius placements, mainly the Sun. I.M has his Sun in detriment, meaning that his Sun is "weak" or uncomfortable in that sign. As the sister sign of Leo, Aquarius symbolizes celebrities, fame, the star in tarot, as well as hopes & dreams. Aquarius can represent notoriety & infamy while simultaneously having the stereotype of the loner or outsider, not wanting to be perceived or "understood."

Using traditional rulership, Aquarius is ruled by Saturn who also rules Capricorn. If Capricorn rules authorities & conformities, Aquarius is the rebellious younger sibling refusing to conform & rather revolt, deviating from the norm. I.M placed his artistry in precedence; convincing SSE to use God Damn as the title track despite the profanity requiring him to release this album digitally in addition to him creating the tracks in his own style that may or may not be in line with k-pop or Monsta X.

GOD DAMN

In true I.M fashion the song & MV are very concupiscent, & since I already talked about the duality that is expressed through this song, let's talk about the MV specifically. Pisces rules escapism & addiction & his Pisces Venus was very on brand to go with alcohol as the imagery of getting high to hide from his frustrations. This piece is highly self-reflective & he encourages listeners to read between the lines, it's quite Saturnian in nature. I also love how the lyrics have that duality of hating & loving whoever/whatever that is ruining/comforting him—I really associate this with his Martian Moon (him assigning Misbehave as the song that represents him is so... Aries Moon).

HOWLIN'

No more taming 'bout my color I swing 'till I get, what’s the problem? Problem I ain't follow simply what I see I go follow what I need 'Cause I see that I'm loyal Imma go on my speed, even I'm slow

The 1st verse reminds me a lot of his Saturnian + Martian energy—no more wanting to be someone he's not, doing his own thing without care of what others may think. However, the last 2 lines really highlight the fixed modality of his Aquarius: I love that he says he's loyal even if he goes on his speed which can be slow; he doesn't care as long as he gets there.

I don't celebrate 'till I make it till the end Ain't time for the 'hol up' You want me be a shade but I'm made for a big wave Ain't time for the 'hol up'

This song has a lot of Saturnian themes esp. the chorus. It reminds us that Saturn rules time—he doesn't succumb to the challenges & distractions or "hold ups," rather focusing on his goal & only celebrating once he reaches the mountaintop. Saturn is karmic, it takes its sweet time to give you your rewards that you must work laboriously for. He knows he's made for something bigger (Aquarius), & with his perseverance (fixed), determination & passion (Aquarius Mars + Aries Moon), he will be rewarded despite all the struggles (Saturn).

Don't call me, I'm drivin' I just wanna keep on ballin’ Even though when you are hatin’ Woah Grab me when I'm fallin’ 'Cause I make myself so lonely You know that I'm howlin'

However, Saturn can be extremely isolating & Aquarius is akin to the underdog. Of course we don't know where his placements are, but his Pisces Venus contributes to that isolation. He feels lonely & he knows that, but he inevitable makes himself lonely which Aquarius natives can do when they develop that mentality of me v.s. the world sometimes. Keep in mind that Aquarius rules community yet the outsider, showcasing that wanting to be alone while wanting someone to be there for him. Saturn is burden & he's a lone wolf used to being alone carrying all that burden himself.

BURN

The night has become cold and now it's a meaningless fight I don't wanna waste my time on the past time Endless shot, let me head to the top I don't wanna waste my time on the past time Burn the accumulated emotions, burn Burn everything without leaving anything, burn

An Aries Moon anthem? I find that Aries placements love having fire/burning imagery if not in their songs then in their MVs. Aries is Martian, cardinal & fire by nature, which means that Aries Moons may get irritated fairly quickly—a quick temper? But they get over it super quickly, kind of like blowing off steam & then letting it go right after. The Moon rules our emotions, & I think the lyrics speak for itself here. The allusion to the fight is very Martian as well.

I'm mixed and complex, yeah I don't know myself well, eh Yesterday I couldn't empty it out, yeah I'd rather burn it, yeah The tears that fell are oil Make the flame burn higher Pour it out, no more regrets Burn it all up and high, yeah

I really enjoy I.M's introspective & intrapersonal nature; he always says he doesn't know himself well & accepts that rather than fighting it. He accepts all facets of himself, & that's very refreshing. The 2nd verse made me chuckle a little bit because the first 2 lines look Aquarius while the rest is Aries. Not to mention he has an Aquarius Mars conjunct Sun, so, more Martian energy there. Cardinal + Martian give me that attitude he portrays very well in this song—throw some more oil, let it burn more so that there'll be no regrets. Another Aries placement who wrote something like this? Yoongi.

HAPPY TO DIE

I could die right now, yeah I can never lie, yeah You bring me to sky Let me be yours till I die When you say goodbye, yeah Bury me on your heart, yeah Don't you say that word Could you keep it till I die? You brought me back to the real love I wanna get lost here forever

There is so much to unpack in this little song... The chorus is a mixture of Saturnian commitment & Aries headstrong, passionate reckless energy motivated by his romanticist Pisces Venus. The title itself, the whole concept of this song, is fundamentally Pisces (his DSC would be really cool to talk about here, if we had the birth time, but we don't, so).

We're childish like we were when we used to play back then I let go of rationality as if I'm drawn by the wind I don't know what this feeling is Even if I try to pretend I don't know, everything seems to be obvious, yeah I don't know, I like it the way it is I don't know me well, I don't know I guess it's not a lie that I really like you I'm happy to die right now

Verse 1 truly has my heart in a grip. He has a rational & intellectually-minded Saturnian Mercury & Sun, yet once he's in love he gets enamoured & childish, rendered completely irrational. It's giving me Aries meets Pisces—of the moment, idealistic, just overwhelming emotions taking control of his Saturnian mind, which I find funny because he has Moon square Mercury.

Things of mine might go away and shape Will just change, but don't you change When I'm low, could you make me not alone? I could die right now if we were just this crazy about each other

Pisces is sentimental & can represent past lives, that feeling of being stuck in the past? Pisces Venus is visionary & idealistic, they're more in love with the idea of love than love itself sometimes. Here we see that theme of isolation again, his Aquarius could play a role here, but his Pisces placements are also desperate to be loved. The last line, like said before, is utterly Pisces because Romeo & Juliet is known to be a Pisces type of relationship, plus with that Aries Moon... it just makes sense since Aries Moons love the rush & passion.

시든 꽃 FLOWER-ED

Somehow I have no strength to resist I stay right where I am It's not like I'm longing for someone But I'm standing there

Personally loving how his songs gradually grow more & more Piscean? The overwhelming emotion of yearning with no one to long for is so Pisces/Jupiterian Venus in general. Like I said, they're idealistic & in love with the idea of love more than anything—not the happy kind of love either. I notice that Jupiterian Venuses play with the theme of wanting a lot, mainly because they are ruled by the planet of expansion. Distance is a huge theme in Jupiterian signs, & they idealize that.

When you step on me like it's nothing I desperately want you to come back and hug mе I deeply remember your smilе that laughed at me While I was being illuminated by you

Because Pisces placements love the idea of love & the feeling of longing for someone they can get into the habit of sacrificing themselves, hence their association with the hanged man in tarot. They are too focused on the fantasy of love to take off their rose tinted glasses.

I don't really blame you I know your days by my side Have faded away Please don't disappear, oh

The hand that held me, the eyes that captured me are all blind The scattered hands, the shining eyes are gone

I don't know what else to say here, like, I think you guys understand how these verses really depicts his Pisces Venus very well... With a Venus conjunct Saturn it can really emphasize isolation & rejection as well—this aspect feels like they are deprived of love, so they crave it desperately even if it hurts them which is a theme of Pisces. Him titling this track "withered flower" in Korean is so Pisces Venus of him overall.

#i.m #changkyun #im changkyun #monsta x #kpop astrology #monsta x astrology #changkyun scenarios #monsta x scenarios

[sichengtual]

— summary: wanting to make his big break as a song-writer, jun gets assigned to work with a band that has every intent on making it big. but it’s the 70’s, and just as he’s about to discover, love and rock&roll go hand in hand.

— pairing: wen junhui x reader.

— au: 70’s, song-writer!jun, rockstar!reader. 

— genre: fluff. 

— word count: 15, 273 (15.2k)

— playlist: somebody to love — queen ;  your song — elton john ; where you lead — carole king ;  tiny dancer — elton john. 

— warnings: alcohol consumption, some cursing, josh saying groovy every time he speaks.

— a/n: a part of me really wishes i was living in the 70′s and i think it shows here lol also, the moonwalker is inspired on the troubadour and the song jun writes is tiny dancer because it carried me the entire way, what an mvp. 

this one’s for @chocosvt​ ! i really hope you like it <3

Jun is nervous. 

The tapping of his feet against the cold, faux tiled floor produces no audible sound over the music coming from the speakers, but it’s still noticeable to him. He tries to keep a steady pace, even counting along to the beat as he plays the same words over and over inside his head. It’s his own voice speaking back at him, words a mere reminder, and, if he were to be completely honest, part of the reason behind his nerves.

He had promised you, on the very first day he met you, that he’d help you shine. That he’d make you succeed. Part a rush of the moment, part wanting to impress his boss and part a reassurance for himself, his promise had been easy to make. Then. And it’s not that he doubts himself, or you, but, at the end of the day, he’s a 24 year old making his debut in the music industry. And it’s hard, of course, because even when he’s not the one performing, it’s still his words that are being sung. 

Doing what he does is harder than people usually think. Jun’s lyrics are heart-felt, authentic, with his entire soul poured on the paper and ready to be dissected by whoever got to listen to the songs he wrote. He surrenders it to the artist, basically giving up any kind and sort of hold he has over the feelings he’s just reflected, giving them away for someone else to interpret them the way they want. The way they can. And as difficult as it is sometimes, it’s part of the job, and all that he can hope for is for them to be interpreted in the most authentic way possible. It’s hard, definitely, but after years and years of trying, he knows that having them expressed are way better than keeping them in.

Following the loud bang of a drum, he looks around as he keeps the pace with his foot. The entire room smells like entrapped smoke, and warm coffee, and it looks somewhat like it too. There’s a thick, almost translucent layer of fog-like smoke hanging on the air, slowly rising to the ceiling as minutes keep passing. There’s also a big arrangement of paper cups, both full and empty, resting on all possible surfaces around him, almost reflecting the passing of time in their placement; 8 in the morning on the desks, 2 in the evening on the equipment luggage, and a few hours past midnight on some parts of the floor. 

The practice room is a dimly-lit space, with a few round, orange and yellow glass lamps hanging on the ceiling and set a few meters apart, barely even enough to illuminate the entire room. In the evening, the last few rays of sunshine manage to break through the high set windows, reflecting on the tinged glass and breaking upon the dark purple walls in bright, warm shades of orange. 

He hasn’t been there a lot, only a few days since he had arrived for the first stop of the tour, but as he sets his eyes on it, he can’t help but think it almost resembles a sunset. He can see the colors, the exact same ones that paint over the sky just as the night is about to fall down, and it serves to help him ease a little bit. Sunsets, even the ones reflected upon the walls of a world tour practice room, are the same all around. 

“Why are you still getting it wrong? It’s all about the groove, man,” Josh whines. He’s sitting on a small wooden stool, his guitar propped up on his knee. 

“I don’t know, Josh, I’m the one that wrote this riff and for some reason I just can’t play it correctly again!”

“Beginner’s luck,” Chan comments, not really involved in the argument, but never one to pass the opportunity to strike a joke. He looks down to tune down his guitar once Mingyu turns to give him a stare. 

“That doesn’t make sense, I’ve been doing this for years.”

“Well, it certainly doesn't seem like it! Just try to make it groovy!”

He’s still getting used to the band. 

They’re a nice group of people; kind, loud and boisterous, but that’s just every band he knows. Having worked in the label for years, he’s used to seeing bands come and go, submitting his songs with no much more room for interaction left other than a Jun, they liked it! coming from his boss on the good days (the bad days are different, a little less remarkable, but they’re the ones he tries not to think about). This, his first time on the road with one of them, is a completely new experience, and if it wasn’t for finally seeing his dream beginning to get on track, it’d be one that would probably have him shaking in fear. 

But they’re warm, laid-back and easy to talk to, which he appreciates, knowing he’s not the best at initiating conversations... or maintaining them. He had felt intimidated at first, looking into a group of rising rock stars from the outlook of someone who’s just as into their world as he’s out of it, standing somewhere between the line that divides the outside and the inside. But he’s entering, just walking in and slowly stepping his toes on the water; and he’s doing it by the side of people he’s glad he can finally get to call his friends. 

“Jun, could you possibly tell Mingyu he’s been playing the wrong note the entire time?” 

“Yeah Josh, I already know I’ve been playing it wrong.” 

“Please stop fighting so we can practice!” Soonyoung says from his spot on the drums, backed up with a nod from Vernon, the bassist looking surprisingly bored at the altercation.

“Can you tell him to play the right note this time? And remember, make it groovy!”

He hadn’t heard the door opening, but you’re walking in the room just he finally tears his gaze from Josh’s bright red guitar. You turn to give him a smile, one he quickly returns, before turning back to the two bickering guitarists. He turns to look at the set playlist, with his name carefully penned down below all fifteen songs, and he tells himself that, despite his nerves, he might just be perfectly ready for the tour to start. 

“Are you okay? You looked a little distracted today.” 

The diner is quiet. 

There’s really not much movement, with only another customer besides him inside the small establishment. He can focus on the clinging of his spoon as he moves it around in his cup, light, creamy bellows of steam rising as the aftermath of the ripples he creates on the dark liquid. The coffee really isn’t great, tasting a bit tangy against his tongue, even after he had added a small packet of sugar to try and ease the bitterness of the beverage. If he focuses enough, he can even make out a light buzz coming from the neon lights advertising the diner in the street, sound low but crisp against the pouring rain. 

It’s cold, and a part of him really regrets coming to the diner straight out of practice without going to his room first. He had just needed to write, and to do that, he needed silence. He runs a hand up and down his left arm, the coolness from his rings perceivable even through the thick wool of his shirt. 

He looks up, the ripples inside his cup long forgotten. 

You’re standing in front of him, looking just as tired as he feels, with a completely different stance than the one you usually show inside the practice room. Or on the stage. It’s relaxed, at ease, a little shy, even, and he can’t help but wonder if, behind the whole rockstar facade, maybe the two of you aren’t really that different. 

You take a seat in the chair in front of him, the laminated red seat squeaking as response to the movement. 

“Huh?” He lets out.

“At practice,” you move, trying to get comfortable in the cold, plastic chair. “You looked a little distracted. Everything okay?”

Jun shrugs, smiling softly. “It’s just nerves, I think.”

It’s not the first time you’ve seen Jun smile, but it’s the first time you’ve seen him smile like that. And, in complete honesty, it was the first time it had been completely directed at you. He had always been a little quiet, ever since he was first introduced as the “new song-writer” by the label director, and, because of the chaos that naturally ensued whenever surrounded by the entire band, your interactions with Jun had been few and far-between. 

Here’s what you’ve managed to learn about him in the months you’ve known him: he likes to be alone when he writes, but he can also do it when sitting as far away from the speakers as possible. He likes drinking his coffee with both sugar and cream, and even if he doesn’t drink too much of it, he always finds a way to spill even a little bit, be it on his shirt or somewhere near his notebook (which has been the cause of many scares inside the practice room). He keeps a pen in his shirt pocket at all times, whether it be for writing down an incoming idea wherever he found or for clicking the seconds away whenever he got nervous. 

And he’s surprisingly shy about his lyrics, even when he sounds completely confident in them. You can tell, whenever you’re given them to sing them, that they are words he’s proud of; words that came from his heart as bits and pieces of the most beautiful poetry you’ve ever read. And they’re always accompanied by a small, shy smile and the slight reddening of his cheeks. 

“I know what you mean,” you say. You call the waiter just as Jun takes a sip from his coffee, not missing the slight purse of his lips as he swallows down the warm beverage. “I’m nervous too.”

“You don’t seem to be,” he comments. He looks back down at his coffee, hand still making circles with the spoon. “Whenever you sing, it’s like you’re completely used to it. It feels as if it were something you’ve always done, something you know like the back of your hand. And still… I don’t know how to explain it. It’s like you’re thrilled by it, even more so every day.” 

Jun looks up at you, hiding his words behind a smile. You don’t notice, too busy ordering a cup of chamomile tea to make anything of the way he’s staring at you from the other side of the table. 

“It’s amazing what putting on a brave face can do, then,” you answer. “I love being on stage. It’s just nerve wracking to think about it when I’m not there. It’s like Mingyu not being able to get his own riff right unless he’s playing in front of a live crowd.” 

“Oh, please don’t remind me of the riff incident. Joshua’s voice hasn’t left my head the entire day.” 

Rain continues falling. You can hear some melody coming from the speakers, which, even when it feels completely unfamiliar, makes Jun’s sway to the side as he rests his head on his hand. Maybe he knows it. 

“I hope it’s not a bad sign,” Jun mentions, pointing to the window with his thumb. “Starting the tour with a little bit of rain.”

“Seungkwan was talking about that earlier, too,” you say, thinking back of the keyboardist’s words from before you left the practice room. “But you know, if anything, I think it might be a good sign.” 

Jun purses his lips, head moving to the side. His fingers move across the table, fiddling with the empty sugar packet he had used. The bright pink paper shines bright against his hands, fluorescent yellow light reflecting from outside. It captures his eyes, and yours, and for a brief second, the both of you are stuck on watching how the packet’s shadow grows whenever Jun moves it around his fingers. It reminds you of him with the pen, a mere distraction. Or maybe just a way for him to set his ideas in order. 

You can tell he’s still a bit hesitant about the interaction, not knowing if they’re nerves at talking about the tour or just nerves at talking to you. As soon as he looks up from his hands, you give him a smile. 

“It’s a bit of a fresh start, isn’t it? And I think, right now, that’s what we all need.”

As much as Jun wants to say he’s not surprised at the turn-out, his eyes are wide open at the influx of people coming through the doors. 

His heart beats loud against his chest as he looks down at the stage, empty of people but perfectly set with an array of instruments that are only waiting to be lit alive. The entire place is full of chatter; the ever-growing excitement of a crowd begging to be enchanted by an unknown performance. Up from his spot at the balcony, he can’t make out what they’re saying but he doesn’t miss how they’re saying it: and the pure excitement in their voices draws a chill from his spine. 

It’s a scene like the ones he’s been hearing about for years. Like the ones he’s been dreaming of witnessing, of being a part of it. And now he’s in one, not only as an spectator, but as the man behind the words. 

“It’s amazing, don’t you think? Or as Josh would say, incredibly groovy.” 

Seungcheol, the band’s manager, asks as he walks into the balcony. Him and Jun went way back, much more than anyone else in their group besides the band themselves. They were the new generation, the young dreamers at the office that were only waiting to be given a shot to prove themselves. They had been hired at the same time, both meant to work with a completely different artist that had ended up not taking them because of how young they were. 

They had built up their experience together, and it had been those late-night talks at the label’s office that made Jun able to call Seungcheol his friend, powered through by cheap coffee and tired conversations full of laughter. And they’re only part of the reason why Jun always refers to Seungcheol as a long-lost brother more than a newly found friend. 

“It’s almost sold out!” Seungcheol continues. He’s wearing a dark pin-stripe suit, as he always is whenever he’s on official business. His hair is slicked back, and his usual pair of gold wire-frame glasses rest on top of his nose, specs perfectly clean. “People keep walking in and walking in and walking in! It’s almost as if they’re the freaking Rolling Stones and not a band barely making their debut. Is that Hoshi or is it Charlie Watts on the drums?”

“It’s the Monday night show, it’s a guaranteed success,” Jun mutters. He knows Seungcheol would be able to see past his facade, to make out the true meaning of his words. Three years after meeting him, there isn’t much he can hide from him. “I’m happy for them, though. The first night’s important.”

“Yeah, me too,” Seungcheol smiles. “Vernon’s been freaking out in the backstage since he started hearing the crowd coming in. He’s just staring at his bass and Hoshi’s about to smack his head with his drumsticks.”

“They’re gonna do amazing. If Mingyu gets his riff right, that is.” 

“And everybody’s gonna love the songs,” Seungcheol says, pressing a gentle palm on Jun’s shoulder. He hadn’t even noticed he was shaking. “If only they knew the stud that wrote them. I bet they’d even like looking at those nice bell bottoms you’re wearing. Since when do you like purple pants?” 

“I bet they’re gonna prefer looking at Mingyu,” Jun laughs before Seungcheol does, and it almost distracts him from his surroundings. “Or even Josh. And Minghao gave me the pants, by the way.”

“Or even Josh,” Seungcheol laughs, shaking his head as he looks away from his friend. 

“Groovy,” Jun says. 

“Groovy,” his friend responds. 

Jun’s nerves have calmed down by the time the lights fall down. 

A half-empty beer bottle looks over the crowd, sitting immediately next to the balcony’s railing. He notices an entirely new atmosphere now that the room is only barely lit, as if the lights falling had only served to heighten the people’s emotions. It’s almost as if they’re in a different place altogether, with expectating hanging high in the air and out of everyone’s reach. 

The Moonwalker they had walked in, just a few hours before, barely resembles the Moonwalker they’re in right now. 

It had been lit by the natural light coming from the windows, bouncing over the wood-covered walls and reflecting over the little trinkets that served to adorn them. They had been the highlight of the place, attracting the eyes of everyone that entered to the rows and rows of pictures and memorabilia. What was that hanging over the bar, Bob Dylan’s hat? Jun had only been more impressed by the bright neon sign that spelled the bar’s name right on the center of the stage, after seeing it on newspaper cuttings for most of his life. 

A few days back, when Seungcheol had told him of the gig they had landed the band through a friend of his girlfriend (bless you Lily!), Jun almost couldn’t believe his words. The bright blue cursive sign had been the first thing that had come to mind, consuming his thoughts as a sort of finish line at the end of a marathon. It wasn’t only the bar’s trademark, it was also the backdrop of some of the most amazing debuts in modern rock n’ roll history. And now, looking at it shining brightly against the low-lit room, a part of him still can’t believe he might be about to see one of them with his own two eyes. 

He had heard of concert nights on the Moonwalker the same way he had heard the stories of the great mythic heroes. He had seen pictures the same way he had learned of iconic places and happenings. He remembers spending entire nights finding motivation in the dream of listening to his songs being played in the exact same place some of his favorite songs had been presented, of them finally finding their home within the same crowd that had once listened to The Byrds and Carole King. 

And as you walk onto the stage, commanding attention with each step, Jun is sure tonight is going to become one of those. And that it’s his songs that will be sung back by the crowd, resounding against the walls and enveloping the entire place in their meaning. 

The band had already been introduced by the club owner, but no one had actually turned to pay attention until you had walked on stage. You’re met by countless excited bellowings, a smile on your face forming at the sudden attention. 

“We hope you enjoy the show!”

The rest of the band follows, and Jun is struck by a thought. Words materialize in his head as if prompted by the first few notes, threading together into a complete, coherent phrase. It’s a phrase Jun knows. He might have heard it from someone, or read it from somewhere, and it’s stuck in his brain the same way the bridge of the song you’re singing once was. Or maybe it was just something someone had once told him. 

He knows that there are moments in an artist’s life that will define their career. Moments that let you know how it's gonna go. A preview of sorts. And he knows, looking at you shining under the spotlight, that he’s just witnessed something big. 

The entire crowd has gone wild at the music, and Jun knows it’s only the beginning. 

For now, he just smiles, and like the people dancing down below, he lets himself go. 

The party is in full-swing by the time Jun walks in. 

The house itself is small, one story and a few rooms that hold a big part of the party-goers. He can tell it’s usually used as a holiday residence, not exactly a place of staying but merely a place of passing, because every single thing that’s visible doesn’t really have a function different from simply looking good. The entire place is covered in small, colorful trinkets that look like they’re part of some random collection that everyone always sees but no one actually ever looks at. 

It’s truly a rock-star’s house, because, really, nothing about it makes sense. 

Countless bookshelves rest against the colorfully draped walls, an array of uneven, colorful wallpapers shining under the light of the multiple glass chandeliers, but not a single book is visible to the eye. The floor itself is a great quality wood, but everything’s hidden below a series of fuzzy rugs that somehow match the randomness of the wallpapers. 

The music changes slightly as he keeps walking, an entire ensemble of genres, styles and decades all the product of a number of record players playing simultaneously all over the house. All of them are playing a completely different thing, but somehow it all blends into one cohesive beat. Jun could go into the technicalities behind it and say it’s probably in the beats per minute, or could maybe go somewhere into the meaning behind the lyrics, but for now, he just lets himself get immersed into the scene. 

The party doesn’t resemble anything he had lived before, or even heard of. And it’s full of people. 

The entire team (band and staff alike) had been invited to an after-party held by some music executive that’s friends with the owner of the club. It happened every monday after the show, they had said, entertaining executives, artists, and club-goers alike. And no one really cared who was which as long as there was music playing all around them. 

“Jesus, is that Billy Joel?” Seungcheol asks as he walks closely behind Jun. The two of them and Minghao, the band’s stylist, had been the last to leave for the party, having to stay behind to finish the last of the arrangements that followed a successful concert at the Moonwalker, with the rest of you leaving with some of the club’s crew. “Guys, I think that’s Billy Jo- jesus, he’s talking to Chan and Seungkwan.”

“Of course he’d be talking to Chan and Seungkwan, they probably went right to him when they saw him,” Minghao says. “Hey, can you see Vernon around?”

“He’s probably sitting somewhere next to the drinks or something. Or maybe he’s outside, I think there’s a live band playing somewhere out there,” Jun comments.

“Damn, should’ve booked us too for that, right?” Seungcheol says, laughing with the words.

“Don’t you rather just enjoy the party and forget about performing for a bit?” Minghao questions. Out of the corner of his eye, Jun can see Seungkwan and Chan walking away from the group of people they had been talking to, probably on their way outside for some fresh air. “The guys seem to be having a great time. Let go for a bit, Cheol! Let’s enjoy this whole rockstar life even if it’s just for tonight!”

He can hear Mingyu’s laugh coming from somewhere nearby, even if his eyes can’t locate the tall guitar player. He’s surprised he can hear him, with how low his laugh usually is and how high the music is playing, but once Seungcheol points him out in the crowd, he’s only a few steps away. He’s entertaining a large group of people, with Joshua smiling by his side, the both of them holding two glasses of what looks like beer. 

It’s no surprise the two of them would like to be around the growing crowd, with how easily they seem to be able to strike a conversation with whoever walks by. He had known them to be sociable, in comparison with some like Vernon, Minghao or himself. It’s still a bit surprising, though, how in control they seem to be of a conversation held with people they probably didn’t know five minutes ago. 

“I’m gonna go find us something to drink,” Seungcheol says, patting Jun on the back before walking away with Minghao closely following his steps. 

And Jun is left alone. Still, in a house full of people, he sticks his hands in the front bottom of his purple jeans. They had really been Minghao’s suggestion, along with the slick yellow button up and a pair of red boots. It was comfy, and Seungcheol had assured him he really did look good, so he hadn’t dwelled much on it when leaving the hotel room. 

He debates joining Mingyu and Joshua’s crowd for a second, but the growing scent of tobacco and beer has him making his way to the door after he raises his hand in a greeting. Josh manages to signal him to the backyard before Jun leaves, and he wonders whether he’s simply pointing in the direction of the live band, or Vernon, or you. 

As he walks outside, bumping bodies with a never-ceasing crowd, he discovers it’s the later. The outside of the house is just as impressive as the inside, or, as he finds once he begins to look around, even more. 

The entire yard (or at least the part that’s closest to the house) has been decked in continuous rows of fairy lights, hanging from the trees like a mere reproduction of the constellations shining up above. There are at least five campfires, all surrounded by people holding guitars or dancing along to the songs being played by a live band nearby. Their silhouettes are reflected on the ground, a product of the blazing fire, and it’s almost like they’re dancing with the people themselves, more than being a plain reflection of them. 

It’s almost like a scene taken right out of a move, only livelier than any he could ever think of. 

Jun finds you with your back against a tree, sitting cross-legged on a furry carpet, completely enthralled in the music. There’s a series of carpets draped all over the grass, the exact same kind he saw inside, completing the part of the scene that connects both places. As he walks over to you, he wonders where the rest of the band is, with you being alone in the backyard, until he sees Seungkwan and Chan, still hanging close together, sitting a few feet away with what he assumes is another group. A part of him is thankful at the seeming privacy, finding a bit odd how comfortable he is in the middle of a growing crowd when just a few minutes ago he had felt overwhelmed by the loneliness behind it. But then he turns to look at you, smiling carelessly even with your eyes closed, and he knows it’s not a product of the environment.

It's because of you.

“I just wanted to say congratulations,” Jun says, making sure to fall as carefully as possible as he sits down next to you. “Tonight was amazing. Truly, got me tearing up at all.”

“You’ve got your own lyrics to thank for that, mister,” you say, followed by a laugh. You’re still in your concert outfit, although wearing a pair of sneakers as opposed to the platform shoes that had been paired up with the colorful overalls. “I’m pretty sure you weren’t the only one tearing up tonight. I think Hoshi even cried a bit himself.”

“He probably cried at the crowd making tiger claws back at him more than he did at the lyrics.” 

“Yeah, Vernon told him not to do it but he did it anyway!”

“Where are those two, by the way?”

“Somewhere next to where the band is playing,” you answer. You close your eyes as you speak, resting your back against the tree. “I just wanted to get away from everything. Sometimes it’s fun to just observe from a distance.”

“I know what you mean. I’ve been looking at life from a distance for so long, sometimes I forget what it is to actually be living it. I guess it makes for some interesting lyrics though, so it’s been kind of worth it, at least in that way,” Jun says, smiling at you even when you don’t see him. He moves closer to you as he hugs his knees to his chest, feeling the top of your shoulder brush against his. “I think coming with you guys on tour might change that.”

“It’s the rock-star life, huh?” You smile, and Jun can’t help but notice it’s a mirroring of his own smile. In some way, it looks just as vulnerable. He looks away when he feels his cheeks heat up. “You know, you’re much different from what I thought you were when I used to see you at the office.” 

“Different how?”

“I don’t know. I just know I really like talking to you. Every day, I really look forward to being around you,” you laugh, and when he turns to look back at you, you’re finally looking at him again. “You’re a breath of fresh air, Wen Junhui.”

“Says the rock-star,” he laughs. He’s smiling, holding his knees as close to his chest as he can manage as he tries to hide his fluester in his body language. Not that it’s working, anyways. “I’m just some guy.”

“You’re the most interesting guy I’ve ever met.”

You shake your head, and by the way your eyes set on the sky, Jun isn’t completely sure if you’re talking to him or if you’re simply talking to the stars, trying to set your story in the skies for the entire world to see. It makes him smile even wider, anyways. 

“I wonder which one shines brighter. From down here, they look almost the same. But maybe it’s just the distance that taints our perspective,” you mutter, pointing to the lights on the trees. 

“I’d like to think it’s the stars,” Jun comments. “When I was a kid, I always enjoyed watching them. I’d find patterns and have them in my head for weeks as a sort of picture out of a coloring book. Somehow, the stars always seemed to have the answers to every single question that would run through my head, even when miles away.”

“You speak like that and call yourself ‘some guy’,” you laugh. “It’s always poetry coming out of your lips, and I’d listen to every single bit of it.”

The conversation stops, but silence never envelops the both of you, because there is music all around. And there are people dancing, so when you lose focus on each other and gian it in your surroundings, their movement is everything you see. It’s almost as if they’re dancing for the two of you to watch, and neither of you notice the moment your head comes to rest in Jun’s shoulder, way too immersed in a ballet of silhouettes to make anything out of the sudden movement. 

“I hope tonight was good,” you say. “It felt different from other nights, and I don’t know what it was. I’ve never felt that way when performing at home. It felt almost magical, standing there, under the limelight, in front of all those people. Maybe it’s just me, though.” 

Jun shakes his head, muttering a soft no as an answer. You turn to look at each other when he starts speaking, still as close as before. But now he gets to look at you as he speaks. 

“I can’t begin to imagine what you must have felt. I’m not familiar with that side of the gig,” he says, trying to keep his voice as calm as possible. Somehow, the beer he had drank back at the club was still making his blood run wild through his veins, cheeks reddening at the eye contact. “I wish you could’ve seen it from my eyes. Listened to it through my ears, felt what I felt the moment you started singing. I’ve never seen you shine any brighter.”

"You’ve been attending our concerts long enough. Well,if the fifteen person presentations back home even count as concerts.”

“I’ve been to all of your concerts,” he laughs. “And believe me, tonight was really special.” 

“It’s the Moonwalker’s magic,” you say, and Jun turns to look at you. “You saw the place, it was special. It made it special.”

And he doesn’t know if it’s the effect of the lights shining above your head, or the remaining adrenaline coursing through his veins, but he’s sure he can hear his heart beating against his chest. He can hear it over the loud music, thumping so hard his mind goes blank, falling closer to you as he begins to lean in. 

Because even when far away from the Moonwalker, he’s still smiling the same. He feels just as happy, somewhere in the backyard of a stranger’s house. The place is special, for sure, but only as much as you made it. 

“It wasn’t the Moonwalker that was magical. It was you.”

And you can hear him, because even when the world around you is spinning completely out of order, his smile is still front and center in your eyes. He’s smiling at you and everything else only but circles around it. 

As a new song starts playing from a record player far away, Jun kisses you under a thousand fairy lights. You’re still not sure of which one shines brighter -the artificial lights or the stars high above- but as Jun’s hand finds yours over your lap, you decide you don’t really care. 

A part of you would really like to think nothing had changed after the kiss. 

In reality, the two of you had been so flustered he had ran back to Seungcheol and Minghao while you went to find Vernon and Hoshi, refusing to say anything about the moment to any of them. It was part of some unofficial and unspoken deal, sealed with only a look, sparing the both of you of any kind of conversation immediately afterwards. It had been a product of the moment, of adrenaline and slight tipsiness combined with a romantic scenery, and nothing else. 

That’s what you told yourself the entire night, even when questioned by Seungkwan about the sudden giddiness in your smile and the change in your gaze, slightly unfocused on the world in front of you, as if something more important was playing inside your head. As if that something was the memory of the feeling of Jun’s lips against yours, leaving your skin tingling as an aftermath of his touch. As if that something had been the way he had smiled at you right after, looking as if the affection you’d just shared was as unbelievable to him as it was to you. 

In all honesty, Jun’s kiss was more than one of the many that were shared that night by the people around you. It wasn’t just a product of the moment, of adrenaline and slight tipsiness combined with a romantic scenery, because the way you had looked at each other just before your lips connected had been a long time coming. That was the product of months of unknown pining; of you looking for him as soon as you entered the office, and of him not being able to take his eyes off you as soon as he saw you walking by. It was a product in the exchange that came with you singing for the world the words he had shared with you in messy scribbles over coffee-stained paper, something about the entire thing feeling growingly intimate the thought ran through your head. 

Because even when he wasn’t writing songs for you, or about you, he still trusted you with them. In your eyes, that was worth more than him signing one of them with your name on top of the page for everyone to see. And while you were sure it wasn’t an act of love (or at least not yet), you couldn’t deny it always opened the door for that possibility to walk in. Or for you to walk towards it, at least. Just like his songs, and for months on end, Jun had always been there. 

Well, at least up until the night he kissed you. 

You weren’t sure if it was intentional or fate making a cruel joke out of your feelings, but Jun had been avoiding you. As much as he could be avoiding you in the span of a few hours, at least. 

“Wanna sit with me on the bus?” 

You can’t really tell what Vernon’s wearing. He’s sitting next to you on the curb in front of the bus, a pair of sparkly sunglasses resting atop of his nose. He’s wearing a yellow hat that matches the color of his shoes, but that doesn’t really go with any of the other pieces of his outfit. 

“Aren’t you gonna sit with Hao?” 

“Ah, I don’t know,” Vernon drinks from a styrofoam cup he has on his hand. It’s the same as yours, so it’s probably to-go coffee from the hotel’s restaurant. “He’s been trying to talk about some outfit ideas he had during the concert last night. He called it a revelation or something. I’m pretty sure Seungkwan could be of more use to that conversation than me.”

You don’t really want to sit with Vernon. And it’s not that you don’t enjoy his company, because out of everyone in the band, he’s always been the one you’re closest to. But somehow, you know sitting next to Vernon will prevent you from any chances of even talking to Jun in the next six hours until you reach the next spot. You’re not sure if he’s even actually avoiding you, but you don’t really want to be correct. 

“Are you kidding? You wear this kind of outfits and you think you don’t have a sense of fashion? Vern, if anything, you’ve always been the Mick Jagger amongst all of us.” 

“Okay, those stage outfits were chosen by Minghao, it wasn’t really me putting together those suits and - whatever he has me wearing all the time.” 

You roll your eyes, playfully. 

“Although, I guess I could use this chance to keep him from putting me in another sparkly overall like the one from last night.”

“But you were such a star! It looked pretty nifty if you ask me.” 

“Keep going and I’ll tell him to find the most ridiculous hats for our next concert, just you wait!”

The rest of the band starts walking out of the hotel, Chan’s laughter pulling your attention from Vernon. As they walk next to you, you decide to ignore Hoshi’s tiger print overalls and Mingyu’s conversation of how he had met and talked to George Harrison at the party once Joshua had walked away from him.

“I don’t believe George Harrison would ever like to be entertained by your presence, Gyu. There were definitely groovier people to be around last night.”

“It’s not my fault you decided talking to Seungcheol was more important than stickin’ around, we literally see the guy every day.”

“Hey, I’m your manager!” Seungcheol wines from the hotel door, walking behind a groggy Seungkwan.

“Yeah, we literally see you every day,” Mingyu retorts. He has one foot on the bus steps, only turning to argue with the eldest. “Don’t get me wrong, I love seeing you so often, with all your random hair-do’s.”

“Can it and get in, we’re late anyways. Everyone keep steppin’!”

“The only reason we’re late is because you couldn’t stop talking to your girlfriend on the phone,” Mingyu lets out before climbing in, somehow managing to avoid getting yelled at yet again. 

You get up after Vernon, following him into the bus as soon as Mingyu, Josh and Seungcheol had gotten in. You’d seen Seungkwan, Hoshi and Chan passing by, and quickly found them sitting together near a small kitchen area. 

The bus itself isn’t much different from others you’ve seen, with rows of faux leather seats set one after the other along the central aisle. All the way to the back there’s an area with what looks like a small bed, a door leading to a tight bathroom and a small kitchen space consisting of two cabinets and a microwave. And every single thing is either muted yellow or a dark orange, making the entire espace look probably smaller than it actually is. It’s comfortable enough, though. 

“Hey, Vern, come here,” Minghao calls from one of the seats. He’s resting his back against the window, with his feet on the couch and his knees pulled close to his chest. A small notepad rests on top of them, having only looked up from his sketches to greet the bassist. “Let me show you what I’ve been thinking of. I swear, the setting of the Moonwalker gave me so much clarity on what I want to put all of you guys in for the rest of the tour.” 

“Hao, give Josh a groovy Bob Dylan inspired hat!” 

“You wear the damn Bob Dylan inspired hat if you want, see how groovy it looks on your head.” 

Vernon looks at you to give you a small smile before sitting down next to Minghao as you walk past, stealing one of Hoshi’s snacks before plopping down on the seat behind him. You shift in your seat, hearing the slick material of the seat squeaking against the courness of your jeans. You quickly look at the small smiling daisies Minghao had painted with black markers all over the light surface, making for an interesting pattern when looked at from far away. Your fingers trace over the figures as you rest your head on the window, closing your eyes until you feel someone coming to sit right next to you. You had quickly placed your book on the seat when sitting down, but you find it on top of Jun’s lap as you see it’s him who’s by your side. 

“What an interesting thing to be reading!” He exclaims, looking at the beat up copy of On The Road. “You’re a Kerouac fan?” 

“You’ve read Kerouac?” You ask. 

Jun smiles. “Of course not,” he says, before breaking into a laugh. He doesn’t give you the book back, but turns it to read the back cover. “Read to me? It will keep us both entertained.” 

Without focusing too carefully on it, you can hear the distinct crisp sound of Joshua’s guitar coming from the front of the bus, and can make out the first notes of the Stairway to Heaven solo. It sounds better than you’ve heard him play, most likely the product of constant practice. But it all disappears when you turn to look at Jun. 

Smiling at you, Jun lets you straighten up on your seat before placing his head on your shoulder as he hands you the copy. You’re surprised by how familiar it feels, and feel your lips curling up at the memory of doing the exact same thing the night before. 

And you know that things have changed from the kiss, because now you’re not able to ignore the feeling in your chest that arises when Jun takes your hand in his. And you can only wonder if he feels the same, because he lets out a soft sigh the minute you tighten the grip, nuzzling his cheek against the fuzzy fabric of your corduroy jacket. 

Smiling at his touch, your eyes start glazing over the print as you begin to read. 

“I first met Dean not long after my wife and I split up…”

The dinner lounge of the second hotel is much fancier than the first one. 

The entire place looks like it’s been draped in velvet, every single ridge looking as smooth as a crease in the fabric. There’s a combination of wooden panels and wall-height mirrors adorning the walls, only interrupted by the golden frames of the windows. A dome rises on the center of the center, a thousand red roses painted in a mosaic of tinted glass, while the rest of the ceiling is covered in the exact same wood as the walls. The tables are all draped in expensive looking tablecloths, placed carefully under meticulously set tableware, and they’re accompanied by tufted chairs, all of them in matching red. The dark colors in the scheme makes the entire place look dim, despite all the chandeliers shining bright against up above the clients’ heads. There are candles decorating the tables, along with fresh roses matching the ones in the dome, but they serve more as a simple ambiance decoration than an actual light source.

And, even though the city they had been in had been just as big as the one they’re in now, and the budget had not changed in the slightest, the shiny grand piano that sits at the center of the small wooden stage at the back of the restaurant had caught Jun’s eyes as soon as you had walked in for dinner. 

It was supposed to be a group dinner, but Mingyu, Chan and Minghao had gone sight-seeing, Vernon had fallen asleep and Seungcheol had stayed back in his room to rest (and, probably, talk to his girlfriend on the phone while eating something from the room service). At the end, it’s dinner of five instead of a dinner of ten, and while it would have been nice to share it with everyone, the company you had was more than enough. 

“This place is groovy! Oh, Seungcheol went all out with this hotel,” Josh exclaims as you sit down at a table neighboring the windows, all five of you immediately drawn to the exterior scene. “I’d say he did an excellent job booking if it weren’t for the fact I’m rooming with Hoshi.”

“Hey!” The younger exclaims. “I’ll have you know I’m an excellent roommate. Best you’ll ever have, you’ll see.” 

“Yeah, I’ll start thinking that once you pick up your dirty socks from the floor after taking them off, that’s not groovy at all.”

“Jesus, can we not talk about Hoshi’s dirty socks while at the table, that’s fucking gross.”

“You’re just overreacting, and please just stop saying groovy,” Soonyoung says, rolling his eyes and picking up the pastel pink menu from the table, locking his eyes on the cardboard. “Anyways, this one burger looks way too nifty to pass it up.”

“I was thinking of ordering the same thing,” Seungkwan says, closing the menu. 

“Have you seen the kind of restaurant we’re in? Order a pasta, or a salad, not a plain burger, go with the groove.” 

“Do you think we’re Seungcheol, Joshua? If you had asked for his card like we told you, maybe we’d be buying pasta and wine for the five of us without you having to tell us about it!”

“Has anyone ever told you you’re scary when you’re angry?” Joshua asks, probably deciding on a burger as well as he imitates Seungkwan and places the menu back on the table. 

“Only sometimes,” Soonyoung responds, smiling. 

You’re not listening to their argument, though, with your chin resting over your hand and your gaze lost somewhere in the movement of a stranger. 

It’s funny how being in a completely different country, in a city a million miles away, there’s some sense of familiarity behind simply watching people walking by. You’re not sure if it’s just the mere action, or maybe a combination of the movement in a similarly urban setting, with the lights reflecting upon the crowd as a sort of kaleidoscopic filter, but it never feels entirely too different. 

“Do you want to play a game?” Jun asks, whispering right into your ear. He’s leaning close to your body, sitting between you and Joshua. You can make out the scent of his cologne as he scoots even closer to you to point to a stranger outside the window. “Like when we counted the number of headlights on the highway on our way here.”

You nod, words suddenly stuck on your throat as soon as you see Seungkwan looking at the both of you. Because truly, it was oh so very easy to get lost in the moment whenever Jun was around, and the thought has you smiling as soon as you notice. It’s oh so very easy to get lost in him. 

“Okay, we’ll make it interesting. Whoever wins buys the other a cherry cola!” he says, his voice still sounding just as soft. If he’s aware of Seungkwan’s stare, he doesn’t show it. Or maybe he just doesn’t care. “Let's spot all the people that look like they’re dressed by Minghao after looking at the Moonwalker, starting… now!”

But his words have you laughing, so deeply you can feel it in your chest as you throw your head back. He looks at you, a care-free smile etched all over your face, and he can’t resist the laugh that forms at the center of the stomach, completely imitating your actions as the rest of the guys simply observe. And it’s amazing, because somehow, you have found just enough comfort in the presence of each other to be able to forget about everyone else. It’s not shy smiles and nervous laughs when in public, but full on grins and bursts of laughter. 

The thing no one notices though, completely distracted by the boisterous laugh, is Jun placing his hand on your thigh under the table, thumb moving in delicate circles against the fabric of your jeans. He doesn’t spare a second thought on it, finding way too much comfort in your closeness to make it a conscious action. And you aren’t even surprised on how natural his touch feels by now, because, somehow, it feels like coming home. 

Or maybe they do, but they just smile at the sight. There’s something enthralling about watching two people falling in love, bit by bit, gesture by gesture. It’s a tell behind the warmth of a smile and the fondness of a look, and while it’s not entirely common, it’s too beautiful to disrupt. 

“Josh, have you really been looking at your reflection this entire time?” 

It’s late, and everyone but you and Jun have left the restaurant by the time the piano player arrives.

You’ve long since finished your meal, having shared a large plate of spaghetti and meatballs after Jun had said he wasn’t even that hungry anyways. You had ordered two cups of coffee and a shared berry panna cotta, way too lost in making conversation about everything and anything to actually notice the passing of time. In reality, it’s only when the coffee has run cold and the musician has started playing that you notice an hour has passed since the guys had left for their rooms. 

The song is not one you recognize, but apparently does, judging from the movement of his fingers against the table. He’s looking at the musician while he runs his fingers on the tablecloth like it’s some sort of invisible piano, making sure to get every single movement right in a tempo that perfectly matches the one that’s being played. You’re not sure if he notices, but his body has begun to sway ever so slightly, somehow matching the movement of his fingers.

The place is the same, yet it feels like a completely different one, even when the only thing that has changed is the music. It’s almost atemporal, like it could be night and day at the exact same time, as if it was simply something out of a dream. 

“Do you know this song?” 

Jun nods. He keeps his eyes on the musician, and a part of you wonders if it’s because he wishes that were him. 

“Yeah, it’s one of my favorites,” he answers, smiling. “I used to play it when I was growing up, back when I was learning. I remember how excited my parents were when I finally got the movements right after years of practice. I guess a part of their excitement that day was a part of what made me fall so in love with music that I decided it was what I wanted to do with my life.” 

“How did you learn to play the piano? Seungcheol says you’re really good, and yet, you’ve never played with me around.”

“My mom’s a piano teacher. She used to give classes at this one prestigious school in our neighborhood, and I would hide behind the kitchen door and listen whenever she had a student,” Jun says. “I always liked how it sounded, so one night I just sat down on the piano and started playing. My mom started giving me classes the very next day.” 

“And what about composing? How did that start?” 

You had ordered a refill for your coffee and drink from your cup as Jun starts talking. 

“I don’t know, maybe with school, or maybe just with books in general. I was always dreaming, thinking about stories. Sometimes I couldn’t get the ones I was learning about out of my mind, and before I knew it, there were so many scenarios being born in my head that I simply had no idea what to do with them.” 

“So you started writing them.” 

Jun nods. “After some time, they started turning into songs. I would be looking at the lyrics and would suddenly start hearing a certain tune playing from the back of my mind. It was only a matter of time until I realized what I kept writing were songs rather than just tales, and they started meaning something more to me. Music makes the world go round, but it’s the lyrics that give it meaning.” 

“Said like a true poet,” you say, a soft laugh leaving your lips as you raise your cup to then once more. “I can tell your lyrics mean a lot to you. I know it probably sounds a bit silly, but I can feel it, you know? The emotion behind them. The words come alive before they’re even in my mouth.”

“Sometimes I can’t really tell what I’m feeling until I turn it into a song. The words come from a place so deep inside I can’t reach them on my own, but have to turn onto a pen and a piece of paper to know what they are,” he finally looks away from the musician. He’s still smiling, softly, gently. “It's a little weird. They feel both so deeply personal yet completely different from myself, as if the Jun that exists in the songs is a completely different person from the Jun in the real world.”

You fall quiet. You try to make sense of Jun’s words in your head as he reaches to grab a hold of your hand, but they’re way too beautiful, too meaningful, for you to tamper with. So you feel your heart grow warm at the passion behind them, looking at the man in front of you like he had just painted the stars upon the night sky. 

“Will you dance with me?” 

“Jun, no one is dancing.” 

“And when have you let that stop you?”

Setting the napkin over the table, Jun gets up from his seat. He stretches his arm out at you, offering his hand, his silver rings reflecting the light upon its touch. And he looks at you, eyes sparkling brighter than ever under the restaurant’s delicate lightning, completely absorbed in the way your body imitates his movements.

You let Jun lead you through the sea of tables, all the way to where the little stage is located. There’s a small space that has been left between the stage and the neighboring tables, and you wonder if maybe dancing is what it’s meant for, despite not being used for it. But Jun is quick to replace your thoughts until they’re only about him, pulling you close to his chest and letting his hand rest against your waist. 

“Just focus on me and I’ll focus on you,” he whispers, moving to talk right against your ear. “Hold me a bit closer and forget about everything else.” 

Pulled flush against his frame, you let your hands fall on his back, closing your eyes as you allow him to sway you to the rhythm of the music. He moves in a way that almost has you wondering if maybe you are flying, but you’re not sure if it’s because of his dancing or if it’s just because it’s him. 

You recognize the song the minute Jun starts singing the words. It’s soft, so much you wouldn’t have heard him if you hadn’t been standing so close to him, basically hugging him flush against yourself. It’s Love Is (The Tender Trap) by Frank Sinatra, and you smile at the similarity between the lyrics and the feeling in your stomach. 

He gives you a twirl and it’s like there are a thousand butterflies flying within you, knowing there really is no getting out, because there is no denying something that manages to make you feel so wonderful. He smiles at you and you’re sure you’re falling in love with Wen Junhui, thinking of the way his kiss had made you tingle once upon a starry night. 

“Keep on steppin’, you’re falling behind!” 

Jun laughs, turning back to face you. The breeze ruffles his hair as he moves, thin strands falling onto his forehead. The sky is a bright blue and the sun is shining with all its might, but Jun’s light blue button up and beige bell-bottoms still rustle in the wind. 

“It’s not my fault you walk that fast,” you say, quickening your pace to catch up with him. He moves smoothly as you meet him, circling your waist with his arm and holding you next to him as you walk. 

“Ah, that’s more like it,” he mumbles as he resumes his walk. His pace is not as fast, looking so much more at ease as he looks around at his surroundings. 

It had been Jun’s idea to spend your free day walking around the city, after Mingyu and the rest of his expedition crew had talked about their experience over breakfast. Some of the other guys had left earlier, excited about going to whatever stores they had seen on the bus before reaching the hotel, leaving you and Jun to simply stroll around and see what you find. 

“This is nice,” he mentions. “It’s been a while since I felt this relaxed.” 

“It’s nice you can feel relaxed in the middle of a tour,” you say, giggling. “But I get what you mean, having a break in the schedule, even if we’re only starting.”

“I think you’re the only rockstar I’ve met that actually uses the word schedule in their daily vocabulary.”

“Yeah, but that’s because I’m the only ‘rockstar’ you’ve met. I mean, besides… Seungkwan. Honestly, he’s the most rockstar material out of all of us.”

“Okay, Barbra Streisand.”

“You have not met Barbra Streisand!” 

“In my dreams.”

“Oh, I didn’t know those counted.”

The boulevard is lively. There’s people strolling up and down on both sides of the street, very much like you and Jun, with their pace and actions revealing there’s not much hurry behind their walks. Cars of all models and colors drive through the street, your walk having a varied background orchestra composed of revving engines, passing conversations and the occasional music that was audible from the entrance of some business. It made for the typical city noise, not much different from the one at home, but somehow perfectly fitting for the particularities of the sight. 

The two of you walk while holding the other, occasionally bumping shoulders with some other pedestrian when not paying particular attention. There’s truly not much on either of your minds behind the wonder of getting to know yet another city and enjoying the warmth of a sunny Thursday evening in each other’s company.

“Is there anything you wanna do?” Jun asks, slowing down his pace but not completely stopping. 

“Not right now,” you answer. “We could stop somewhere for a soda or something later, if you want. You know, since you won yesterday and all.” 

“Let’s go in here, then,” Jun says, moving his hand from your waist to your hand, softly pulling on you to the side. 

You quickly follow him as he walks inside one of the stores, never losing the grip on his hand. The front is small, walls painted red and a bright purple signboard hanging over the glass doors, reading Vintage Records and Books, along with a few music notes that look hand drawn over the surface in multiple colors. There are crates full of books and vinyls, the covers of all of them a bit faded by the sun or scraped over the passage of time. At a first glance you can identify some Johnny Cash copies alongside the assorted records, what must have been a bright green cover now looking surprisingly muted. 

And once you walk inside, the interior is just as lively as the outside. The place is covered in shelves, littered with books on one side of the store and with records in the other, with small placards dividing the shelves and categorizing the products. You can tell it’s a wide variety, with hundreds upon hundreds of colorful covers composing a contrast with the burnt purple of the walls. There are horizontal lines painted all across the walls in a bright green and an almost creamy white, which is replicated in a triangle patterned rug of the exact same colors, resting in the middle of the store. 

Among the shelves, there’s an assortment of indoor plants hanging from the ceiling in bright green ceramic pots, along with a few small trees located between some of the shelves themselves. On the rare vacant spaces in the walls there are band posters or book quotes, some of them autographed and some of them pasted one over the other with washed out tape. 

It feels oddly warm inside the shop, and you wonder if it’s merely because of the way the light breaks in from the tall windows up front. There’s a faint scent of flowers that reaches your nose as soon as you walk in, mixing in with the smell of paper and wood. And it’s heavenly.

“Hey, welcome!” Says someone from behind the bright pink counter. He looks around Jun’s age, with a long mane of dark brown hair that goes below his shoulders. He’s wearing a black hat and a green jacket, grinning at the two of you over the pages of a magazine. “Let me know if you see something you’re down with!” 

“It smells nice in here,” Jun tells you, but he must have spoken loud enough for the man to hear, because his grin grows in size. 

“Thanks, it’s home-made potpourri! I make it myself when there aren’t as many customers coming in,” he says, gesturing to a few jars displayed on a small counter. A few minutes ago, you wouldn’t think it was actually possible for someone to smile so big. “It’s for sale too, and it works really well on large spaces! Looks pretty groovy when it’s on display, if I do say so myself.” 

Jun smiles back, walking over to one of the tall stands where a bright orange sign announces a deal on the records.

“Oh, if you buy one of those, you can take a book from this bin right here for free,” the man says. You can’t make out the letters in his name tag from a distance, but you’re almost sure they start with an S. “You can try them out on that player over there, see if it’s nifty. They’re all second hand, but the quality’s off the hook.” 

You look around as Jun’s fingers graze over the records, flicking them so quick you’re not sure if he’s actually reading the title before discarding them. You hadn’t noticed the man had a record playing in the turntable he had signaled to, quickly recognizing the guitar solo of Jimi Hendrix’s Love or Confusion. 

“Hey, wanna get this Bob Dylan one for Josh? See if he likes the hat?” Jun asks, holding a record in his hand without turning back at you. “Maybe there’s a Kerouac book in that bin you can take with you. You know, for the next bus ride - oh, this one’s groovy!”

“Oh, of course you’d pick a Barbra Streisand record.”

“Yeah, she’s my best friend!” Jun giggles. “You know, besides from you. And Seungcheol, but he doesn’t really count.” 

“I’ll keep your secret, don’t worry. He won’t know you like me better.”

“A lot better.” 

You spend hours browsing the shop, laughing at the silly jokes made by the cashier (whose name is Seokmin) and talking about pasts spent together and pasts spent apart, conversations sewn together by a smile. You had even slow-danced to a couple Elvis songs, all while resting your head against Jun’s chest as Seokmin clapped at the two of you for, as he had said it, resembling a romantic scene from one of his favorite movies. 

And you’re not surprised at how familiar it feels, because in the last few days, Jun had come to mean much more to you than anything you could have ever thought. If you were as much of a hopeless romantic as he was, you’d even think it’s because your conexion runs even deeper than the simple process of falling for a friend, but you merely smile as the thought begins to form inside your head. And you laugh at how much it sounds like one of his songs. 

Because there’s as much beauty in the way he smiles as there is in the way it makes you feel. 

The sun’s beginning to set by the time you and Jun leave the record shop. The wind has gotten colder and the breeze has grown stronger, but as Jun tugs you close to his side, you don’t think you’ve ever felt warmer. 

He’s holding just as many records as you’re holding books, letting you make all the picks from the bin once he had purchased his vinyls, along with a jar of Seokmin’s home-made potpourri. 

His hand searches for yours as soon as you step outside.

“Can’t believe we’re almost there.”

The walk back to the hotel is surprisingly quick. 

Jun had been humming the melody to a song Seokmin had played back when you were at the shop, adding a slight bounce to his step as the pitch in his voice rose and fell with the beat of the song. He had smiled the entire way back, occasionally stopping his hum to point at the colors in the sky or their effects on your shadows on the ground, never failing to look at the smaller details that worked together in one beautiful, cohesive picture. 

But it still feels so much quicker than it had been the other way around, almost seems shorter, as if it had been a different path altogether.

Maybe it’s because you’re not as distracted by the storefront and the other passerbys, or maybe it’s just the feeling of bathing in the setting sun when making your way back that somehow makes the entire thing seem shorter. Jun had stopped to get a pair of pastries and two cups of coffee at a small bakery you hadn’t noticed earlier but went unaverted once the signs lit up, which now await inside a small paper bag and in two paper cups, respectively. As you sip from one of the cups, you think it’s the best coffee you’ve had in a long while. 

Jun suggests yet another game on the way back, making you smile as he tries to locate every single red platform shoe worn by a woman over 5’0”, which, surprisingly, aren’t really that many. And you should have guessed from the moment he had said it, but he was just trying to let you win (because, after all, he had won the last two games and just had to pay the coke back). 

“Ah, you’re getting lucky with your pick!” 

“You were the one that chose what we’d look for!” 

“Just let it be our secret,” he says, turning to wink in your direction. 

You can feel the coolness of the breeze nipping at your nose when you finally reach the hotel, walking through the glass doors with Jun following close behind. He still hasn’t let go of your hand. 

“Do you want to get dinner?” You ask. You can smell the sugar and the cinnamon from the pastries, and your mouth begins to water. “There’s this other pasta dish on the menu that sounds just as good as the one we had yesterday.” 

Jun purses his lips, giving a slight squeezing to your hand. “Let’s get room service, I want to show you something.” 

He starts walking towards the elevator, moving slowly and letting you admire the pastel green lobby in all of its glory. There’s some faint jazz music playing as you walk through the lobby, which you hadn’t noticed until then. A big tree rises from the center of the room, matching some smaller ones that are perched next to the deep green tufted couches and complimenting the flower arrangements that have been used as decorations in both the small coffee tables and the bar at the reception. It’s a slightly different vibe than the one from the dining hall, but somehow, both of them look just as fancy. 

“What is it?” You ask. 

“You’ll see.”

“Can I get a clue?”

“No, you’re going to help me finish it.”

“Please don’t tell me you also collect those freaky deaky puzzles Chan likes to put together in his free time.”

Jun giggles, shaking his head as you reach the elevator. “Ew, the anatomy ones? No, no way.” 

The way up to Jun’s room is spent with him trying to guess the elevator music by singing random lyrics and seeing which one sounds best. Not that he got a single one right, but it was certainly entertaining to watch him try. When you finally reach the 10th floor, Jun is singing the lyrics to Cher’s Where Do You Go to a jazz melody very much similar to the one from the lobby, and you’re sure he’s only doing it to make you smile. 

“Bienvenue to my humble abode,” Jun mutters as he opens the door to his room, making sure to bow down and open his arm to signal the room, completing the entire gesture with a short giggle. “I escaped having Hoshi as a roommate so I have the room all to myself.” 

“And you have Seungkwan’s piano,” you mention as you walk inside, pointing to the small electronic piano that was carefully positioned next to the window. “Does he know?”

“No, I stole it from the van last night,” he answers, laughing and plopping onto the bed. “Oh, I’m so tired!”

The room is not too different from yours; a muted orange wallpaper matching the fuzzy carpet. Both twin beds in Jun’s room are covered in a dandelion yellow duvet, one of them holding all of his luggage while Jun rests on the other one (the one he must have slept in last night, closest to the window). There’s a small television on the vanity, the box a combination of bright beige plastic and faux wood, surprisingly going along with the white lamps that stand on both sides of it. 

“What is it that you wanted to show me?” You ask, coming to sit in one of the chairs next to the vanity. They’re big, tufted, and the color matches with the one of the duvets. The chair is not the most comfortable, but as long as the bed is, you don’t really have to worry about it. 

Jun’s purchases lay next to him on the bed, Barbra Streisand’s Stoney End sitting on top of the pile. He had bought five records, four for himself and one for you (though he had refused to tell you which one it was, insisting it would be a surprise). You had selected five books to match his purchase, including a copy of Ray Bradbury’s The Martian Chronicles, which Jun had suggested you take because of the colorful cover. 

“I’ve been working on a song,” he mutters, still facing down on the bed. The words come out muffled, but they’re still audible. “I think you’ll like it.”

You let out a laugh. “I like all of your songs.” 

“This one’s special,” he says, moving so he’s resting on his shoulders. His hair has gotten a bit disheveled, falling all over his face as his lips curl up in a hazy smile. “I’m working on the melody, too. I just need to hear your opinion about it.” 

“You’ve been inspired,” you comment, reaching over to the vanity where Jun had placed the pastries bag. You take a roll into your hand and notice it’s still warm. 

Jun winks before sitting up. “You’d know all about it.” 

“All I do is sing your songs,” you say, breaking a piece of bread and tucking it into your mouth. It melts as soon as it meets your tongue. “You’re the artist behind the art. Should I start calling you Da Vinci?” 

“I like Monet better. I’m a huge fan of the Impression Sunrise, even got a poster of it up in my room back at home,” Jun answers. He moves so he’s sitting down on the edge of the bed next to Seungkwan’s piano, grabbing a small notebook from the bedside table. You recognize it instantly, because it’s the one he always carries with him. He pats the space next to himself. “Here, I’ll show you.” 

You leave your things on the bed next to all his luggage, books carefully propped against a faux leather duffle bag. Jun takes a piece of the cinnamon bread as soon as you sit down next to him, moving closer as he does, a whiff of his cologne reaching your nose. The duvet is of fine linen, surprisingly soft against your fingertips as you place your hands at your sides. 

“I started writing it the other day,” he says, opening his notebook and placing it on his laps. You try to take a peek at it, but the (messily written) words aren’t readable from a distance. It looks beautiful though, fine lines of black ink rising like a carefully painted artwork on the thick, creamy white paper. “When you fell asleep on the bus.” 

“It’s your fault for making me read to you!” You laugh, moving and bumping his shoulder with yours. “And, in my defense, the top of your head was extremely comfortable.” 

“Yeah it’s like a portable pillow,” he jokes. “Maybe I should start advertising it.”

“Bet Seungkwan would take you up on it, he got asleep on the bus too!” 

There is something about Jun that makes everything seem lighter, helping the seconds run fast against the clock. 

“Here, I’ll show you the melody,” he says, straightening his back and placing his fingers on the keyboard. The assortment of rings he’s wearing had felt cool against your fingers. “I stayed up all night to come up with it. I haven’t finished the lyrics yet, but the music is already here.” 

“Is that why you asked me for help? Are you gonna fall asleep on me?” 

Jun smiles, but doesn’t turn to look at you. “No, not really,” he mutters. 

He plays a key, but doesn’t give it much thought. It’s a quick, crisp sound, not really one that’s a part of a movement, even less of a song. Maybe it’s a reflex, like the clicking of the pen had once been, a mere outlet for his nervousness. He keeps his eyes set on his fingers as he speaks, not really directing his words at you but surely saying them because you’re there to hear them. 

His voice is soft, almost shy. “It’s because you’re the inspiration behind it.” 

And he doesn’t say anything else, but lets his fingers graze upon the keys as he starts playing. You’re not exactly sure what you’re thinking of, mind and heart running a thousand beats per second as you feel it thumping against your chest. There’s a feeling growing in your stomach, and whether it's due to adrenaline or some deeper, more complex feeling remains a mystery. 

You close your eyes as Jun plays, each note igniting fireworks in your head. The music flows into your ears like honey, setting light upon the darkest places of your mind, overflowing your senses with Jun’s interpretation. Every single note sounds just like him, as if he’s becoming the music as he’s making it. His fingers run over the keys in the same way an artist’s brush glazes over a canvas, immersing itself in their creation to a point their creation is all they are. He has become a song, a beautifully crafted sonata, making your heart feel warmer with every moment. You know it’s because the song itself is beautiful - but so is he, and that translates into every single sound, every single feeling. 

You let out a gasp as he begins to sing; it’s broken, a few lines here and there. You can tell it’s the bits he’s finished, the ones he’s comfortable with, leaving everything like a game of fill in the blanks. He had sung to you before, either in the song demos or in some practices where he had been finishing a song nearby - but his voice had never sounded sweeter. Your heart tugs against your chest as you listen to him, words coming alive in your head like the ones in the pages of a romance novel. 

“Pretty eyed, pirate smile, you’ll marry a music man…”

Your hands ball up into fists, scrunching the soft duvet as you try to keep your eyes closed, no matter how much your eyelids are threatening to flutter open. You don’t want to see anything that isn’t him, or his voice; don’t want to feel anything that isn’t the sudden warmth that rises all over your body, making you feel like you’re flying - 

And he stops, hands suddenly moving away from the keyboard after a faulty note. 

“Stop distracting me!” He says, laughing as his cheeks grow red in embarrassment. He hands his hands on his lap, fingers absentmindedly fumbling with the rings he has on. 

You don’t open your eyes, joining him in his laughter and falling on your back onto the bed. You bring your hands to your face, hiding behind them as your laughter grows louder. 

“I wasn’t doing anything!” You answer. 

You feel the space next to you dip as Jun imitates your movement, resting onto his back. His notebook has fallen to the floor, open in half, but he doesn’t notice. He brings his hand to your face, taking your own and moving it away from your face. He props himself up on his elbow, connecting your fingers over the duvet in the space that separates the two of you. 

“Did you like it?” He asks, words falling from his lips between jolts of laughter. His voice is soft, and it feels like velvet against your ears. “You know, before I messed up.” 

“It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard,” you whisper, opening your eyes and rolling to your side to look back at him. “Did you really write it because of me?”

Jun nods. He’s smiling, looking at you fondly as he searches for the words inside his head. “You’re a song in and out of yourself.” 

He doesn’t move as you stare into his eyes. Looking at him, you’re suddenly reminded of the night he had kissed you - the same constellations that had shined high above your heads now reflected in his eyes, drawing you deeper into his spell. You feel like you’re falling, the entire world falling as you lay on the bed, his hand on yours the only thing pulling you back into reality. It’s as if the world around you changes every single time you’re with Jun, spinning wildly out of orbit and transforming into an unknown fantasy, with the only sure thing being the way his eyes come to rest upon you. You’re not sure if anything else exists apart from Jun, because suddenly he’s all you can see. All you can feel. 

“And I think I’ve fallen in love with you,” he continues. He keeps his eyes on you as he speaks, as if trying to assure you his words are only for you to hear. “Or maybe I already was, but only just noticed. I hear your voice in every word, see your face every time I turn around with your name etched deep in my heart. I don’t think I could get you out of my head no matter how hard I tried. And I don’t think I would ever want to.” 

You hadn’t noticed there were tears forming in your eyes until one fell down on your hand, ice cold against the warm skin. You open your mouth, searching for words deep down in your heart, but Jun shakes his head. 

“Just… let me say it, you can go after,” he says. “I’ve been dreaming of love my entire life. As far as I can remember, I’ve always dreamed of feeling it. It wasn’t just something out of a fairytale or a novel, not even a dream coming out to a song. It’s been the theme behind all my songs and the happy ending of all my stories. And never would I have thought it would feel like this. Never would I have thought those dreams would become you, but you’re there, in every single word. In every single thought.” 

He moves, fingers caressing the back of your hand as he gives it a squeeze. He moves his hand, placing yours over his chest, directly over his heart. Although faintly, you’re sure you can feel it beat. 

And you move forward, your other hand on his neck, connecting his lips with yours. It’s warm, and you can make out a vague saltness that is no doubt a product of your tears. But they are long forgotten, the feeling of Jun’s lips against yours setting your body on fire as his hands come to rest upon your skin. You can feel your every vein light up as you move as close to him as you can manage, the space between you always weighing upon the both of you no matter how much you try to reduce it, because the feeling of your bodies pressed against each other is one you simply can’t get enough of. 

He opens his eyes, eyelids fluttering open at the need to see you; to set the final piece of the puzzle in his mind. It’s a puzzle that looks, sounds and moves like you, composed of a love that burns too bright to ignore. 

And as he looks at you, resting comfortably on the soft linen sheets, he’s sure he has never seen such a beautiful sight.

The next few days go by in a flash. 

The days start early, as early as the sun goes up and you have breakfast on some terrace with Jun by your side, with the sun reflected upon his skin like a golden veil. They’re spent in jolts of laughter with your friends, soaking in the sun when sight-seeing in all the cities you’ve visited. They’re spent carelessly singing in the bus, with Joshua and Chan backing up the vocals with loud strums of their guitars, not really caring about beat, or tune, or whoever may be listening. They’re spent getting to know the world with the people that make the entire thing worth it, smiling and laughing along. They’re spent in sleepless nights on stages or someone’s backyard, twisting and turning in Jun’s hand as he moves you to the rhythm of the music. They’re spent in him watching you from a balcony, dancing and singing along to the crowds adoring your every move, finding himself lost in your voice. 

And they’re spent in composing, with Jun finding inspiration in the smallest of your movements, lyrics suddenly being born in the crack of a smile and the fondness behind a look. 

By the time the song is finally ready to be sung, he’s still a bit nervous. It feels like a deja vu, with him tapping quickly upon a faux tiled floor. 

He rests his back against a wall, standing next to a closed door. He tries to move out of the way as people pass in a hurry, carrying equipment or reading from lists, simply looking around as he tries to count on the passing of time. He tries to maintain a steady beat with his foot, counting along in his head as he reads from the piece of paper he’s holding. Trying not to think about the sounds of a growing crowd, he can feel the paper crumpling in his hand, thinking that his grip on it might be a little too tight. Nonetheless, he can’t loosen it up, no matter how much he wants to. 

Night has fallen, and he can see the stars from the small window that rises at the top of the wall in front of him. There’s some moonlight breaking in, lighting up the ground and the glass detailings on the colorful tiles. For a second, he thinks of how familiar it feels, to be able to see a picture where there is none, and he smiles. Backstage or not, the night looks the same all around. 

He lets out a big breath, moving his free hand around as he does until he hears the door next to him flutter open. A laughing Chan walks out from it, followed by Josh and Mingyu, all of them with their guitars strapped down and ready to be played. They pat Jun on the back before they follow the small arrows on the ground, walking in the direction of the stage. 

He runs through the lyrics in his head as the rest of the band follows, you walking behind while trying to fix the back of your jacket. Minghao had suggested some fringes on the sleeves to add some “movement” but they had proven a bit impractical when getting stuck whenever you moved your arms. 

“Hey,” Jun says, grabbing your attention. “Do you have a moment?” 

You smile. “What are you doing back here? I thought you and Cheol were gonna watch from the balcony.”

“We are,” he confirms, nodding his head. “I just wanted to say hi.”

His voice is shaking as he speaks, as much as he tries to hide it. You take his free hand in yours, stopping his movements in midair, giving his fingers a slight squeeze as you attempt to bring him some comfort. 

“Are you nervous?” You ask. He simply nods, smiling when he feels you tightening your grip on his hand. “Is it because of the song?” 

“I know it’s a bit silly,” he comments. Despite holding the piece of paper, he runs his hand through his combed-back hair, causing a few strands to fall messily over his forehead. It looks so much better than when it’s gelled up. “But it feels different this time around. I don’t know, It feels a lot more personal somehow.” 

Bringing his hand up to your face, you give it a kiss. He sighs at the feeling. 

“They’re gonna love it, Jun,” you say. 

He smiles at you. “As long as you love it, that’s more than enough for me.” 

“Well, you already know that I do,” you giggle. “I’ll always love every single song you write.”

Laughing with you, he pulls you to his chest as he envelops you in a hug. Sighing against you, he tucks his face in your neck as he feels you hugging him back. You smile, feeling him press a light kiss on the exposed skin. He smells of sugar and cinnamon. 

“Leave them breathless,” he whispers as he breaks apart from the embrace. 

He kisses you one more time, quickly pecking the top of your head before he walks away. You give him one last smile, running your fingers down his arm as you begin to part.  

You walk in opposing directions, and Jun quickens his pace as he climbs the stairs leading to the balcony. He can hear the crowd growing with every step he takes, feeling a knot forming in his stomach as he moves his fingers around in an attempt to control his nerves. The way up seems familiar, consisting in dimly lit hallways and semi-peeled off posters on the walls, and he doesn’t even notice a few minutes have passed by the time he finally reaches the balcony. 

It’s not the Moonwalker, but the place shines just as bright. He greets Seungcheol, placing a palm on his friend’s back as he comes to stand next to him. 

“Hey, I was about to go looking for you,” he says, as a form of greeting. He smiles at his friend and motions to the public below with his beer bottle. “Great turn out tonight! I think this is our biggest venue yet, it’s amazing! I was talking to some guy over there, and he says a story is being printed on the newspapers about how successful the tour has been so far.” 

Jun smiles. “They deserve it. They’re an amazing group.”

“And they have amazing songs,” Seungcheol comments, nudging Jun’s shoulder with his own. 

Jun sets his eyes on the empty stage just as the lights begin to fall. A limelight focuses on the center of it, right where the standing microphone rises high among the sea of instruments. You walk out from the side with the rest of the band following close behind, and just like his very own, everyone’s eyes are on you. 

“We have a very special song for you tonight,” you say. You look up in the direction of the balcony, and Jun feels his heart beat loudly against his chest when you wink at him. “We hope you enjoy the show.” 

A breath gets caught in his throat when Seungkwan starts playing, fingers delicately grazing over the keyboard of his piano. He can feel Seungcheol’s hand coming to rest on his shoulder, giving him a gentle squeeze, but all he can focus on is you. 

It’s always been that way, and the feeling on his chest lets him know it always will. It feels like a thousand butterflies finally setting flight. 

He smiles when you begin to sing, forgetting about everything else. The world around him stops existing, and just as the words start leaving your lips, he lets himself go. Because he had spent his entire life dreaming of this moment, thinking about the feeling being born in his chest. And he’s happy he’s waited, because it feels better than he could have ever imagined. 

Completely shaking off his nerves, he closes his eyes and lets out a breath. 

Hold me closer tiny dancer… 

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