through the window pane

Waking Up

waking up w your avenger boo

Bucky: Most of the time you were awoken by Bucky himself shifting around in the bed, and petting the dog who managed to place himself on top of both yours and Bucky’s legs. The Great Dane seemed to think he was a small lap dog, and tended to do whatever was necessary to reach Bucky’s hand that was willing to scratch his ears. The next thing you always took notice of was the creases in your face from having your cheek pressed to his bare shoulder all night. Which also explained how your hair became a tangled mess, and one with Bucky’s long hair. But the overall best thing was Bucky’s sleepy face; hooded eyes, and a smirk that could make your pants fly across the room. Not to mention the raspy, sleepy voice that you adored more than anything. Waking up next to Bucky is the best place to be in the world.

Steve: It seemed like he donned a halo each and every morning that the sun came shining through the window panes of your bedroom. Even on grey mornings, Steve seemed to have an aura about his sleeping body that brought a smile to your face. Every morning you reach out to brush your hands over his cheeks, then place a kiss on his nose before he wakes up only to pull you closer. One thing nobody really knew about him was that his body temperature was so out of whack, so most nights he spent only sleeping in boxers because he was so warm. (Not that you minded one bit) Steve also really enjoyed having the news on in the morning once the both of you were awake, because this way he knew what was going on in the world all while having you in his arms.

Natasha: Since Natasha absolutely despises being sweaty, she “fixed” the thermostat in your room to always be a chilly 65 degrees. So waking up next to her, more like on top of her, is the best part of the day. Both you and Natasha are always bundled up with plush blankets that have been collected from various missions, and presents from over the years. To be honest, your bed could win a competition of the comfiest in the Avengers tower. But waking up next to the Black Widow was incomparable, red hair splayed out on the white pillow case, face scrunched from the dreams she was having. It was rare for you to wake up before her, since Nat’s wake up time was normally about 5 am. But either way, being with Natasha was the greatest time in your life.

Thor: The giant teddy bear you’re lucky enough to call your boyfriend was the best cuddler of all time. No one could ever come close to his soft skin and big arms pulling you to his side. However, Thor always ended up naked in the middle of the night, even if the previous night’s activities weren’t all that crazy. You often climbed on top of him and used his whole body as the bed, because he was honestly the comfiest person ever. He beat the bed’s comfort level by a long shot. If not for his horrible morning breath attacking your nose every damn morning, you would stay sprawled out on him all day. Thor adored seeing your sleepy face every morning, which gained you even more cuddles and kisses.

Bruce: He had developed a habit of scrunching himself into a ball while he slept. Bruce felt secure this way, and small enough to keep his destructive nature contained so he couldn’t hurt anyone. But the truth is, he hated it. He wanted to stay spread out so he could hold you, but his constant inner conflict kept him balled up. You always tried to lay on top him, hoping to keep him in one place for the duration of the night. It never worked, because you always ended up rolling off of him in your sleep. Which then started the chain reaction of him giving in to the reflex and curling up into a ball. It happened every night, without fail. Bruce craved contact with you, though, so he grabbed your hand and held it close to his heart. Waking up every morning without feeling in your hand became regular, because he gripped it in his sleep so unbelievably tight, like he was holding on to you for dear life.

Tony: If Tony is sharing a bed with anyone, there’s a 1000% chance there will be physical contact involved through the entirety of the night. You developed this theory when you had woken up early one morning, with one half of your body almost overheating and the other half cold enough to snap off. Feeling the steady rise and fall of Tony’s chest against your back, you looked over and realized that he had you locked in a bear hug. One of his arms were always tucked around your waist, and the other was underneath your torso, hand gently gripping the side of your stomach. Tony’s embrace is so unbelievably warm, in contrast to the below freezing temperature of his room. It feels like a furnace during the winter, so warm and so comforting. Comforting enough to keep your restlessness at bay until Tony woke up.

Peter: Sometimes when he came home from long missions in the city, he totally forgets to take off the spider-man suit. So this lead to you making sure that Tony upgraded his suit to the most comfortable material, not only on the inside for peter but on the outside as well. It was a gamble every morning on who would be where, since he formed a habit of flying out of the bed. You tried your best to prevent him from going anywhere, mostly by smushing your face into his neck and hooking your arms around his muscular frame. This usually guaranteed that he wouldn’t be flying anywhere, but there were slip ups. Sometimes, though, the placement shifted and he ended up nuzzled into your side. It was your favorite way to wake up, with his unusually warm body pressed against yours. So you loved to wake up with a faceful of warmth, and Peter.

Pietro: Since you were the closest thing Pietro had to a pillow, you always woke up with his head resting somewhere on your body, his hair tickling your skin. It woke you up every morning, without fail. Sometimes, he had planted his face on your chest, and lazily thrown an arm around your torso. Other times, he had his head on your stomach, absentmindedly rubbing small circles everywhere he could reach, the monotony putting him back to sleep. Most times however, Pietro had his head on top of your boobs, talking about how comfortable boobs are while you were lowkey suffocating. There was even one occurrence when he had completely flipped himself over the opposite end of the bed and had placed his head on your thigh. But it didn’t matter where he had ended up, you always cracked a sleepy smile and ran your fingers through his hair until he woke up.

Scott: This man child always woke up at least an hour before you did, there was never a time when he didn’t. You would have thought that he would just get out of bed and let you sleep. But no, he stayed put on his side of the bed and intently studied your face. Scott admired you like you were a piece in an art gallery. His eyes were drawn to the arch of your nose, then to the soft curvature of your cheekbones. You were in such a peaceful state when you were asleep, it was more than just beautiful. Well, to be fair, Scott thought you were beautiful under any circumstances. Sometimes he would just blurt out how pretty you were when heading home from missions, covered in sweat and blood. But there was just something about when your face was reminiscent of the peace that came with sleep that made you glow. When you finally cracked your eyes open, you immediately met his and uttered a raspy ‘good morning’, causing him to smile like a goof.

Loki: Personal space was very important to Loki. It didn’t matter that you had been sharing a bed with him for as long as either of you could remember. If Loki didn’t want physical contact, then that was that. You still were the only exception, however. Every evening, you would climb onto your respective half of the bed and get cozy, and wait for Loki to do the same. You never pressed him into any type of cuddling or anything, because you knew that you would make your way over to his side of the bed eventually. It always happened, and Loki never complained. He tried to keep the fact that he really enjoyed your cuddles a secret, but that was the one thing he couldn’t hide behind the facade. You discovered his “secret” when you woke up one early morning and buried your face in his hair, and pressed into his back. Instead of gently pushing you back to your half of the bed, he reached behind him, grabbed your arm, and brought it over his torso. Nothing could melt your heart more than that.

Clint: For some odd reason, unbeknownst to the two of you, you were both on the same exact sleeping schedule. The two of you became used to being sleepy at the same times, and opening your eyes at the same time as well. Throughout the night, Clint would wrap his arms around you, and you in turn would knit your legs together with his. The two of you would basically become human pretzels all while sleeping. He wanted to be as close to you as possible, and found that entangling his limbs with yours was the best way, without you two literally fusing together. That’s when waking up at the exact same time was good, because you could spend some time giggling and reclaiming limbs without waking the other. Honestly, you two were so enamored with each other it almost made everyone else sick, but you two were as happy as ever.

Wanda: Wanda’s room is undoubtedly the most cute and comfiest room in the whole building. Starting with the fact that it’s always at a perfect seventy degrees. The pillows are memory foam, the blankets are fleece, and Wanda is the perfect size to cuddle. So it was a given that you would sleep together in her room. In the mornings, the only thing that would wake the two of you was Steve’s incessant pestering about training. He would periodically knock on the door, open it and peek his head in, reminding the two of you that ‘you can sleep after practice’. Wanda just groans and cuddles deeper into your side, while you cover your face with another pillow, effectively tuning him out. Mornings with Wanda felt like a dream, because you never felt more peaceful with anyone else.

10

In the Mood for Love (2000)

Directed by Wong Kar-Wai
Cinematography by Christopher Doyle, Pung-Leung Kwan, Ping Bin Lee

“He remembers those vanished years. As though looking through a dusty window pane, the past is something he could see, but not touch. And everything he sees is blurred and indistinct.”

the flip side of never

#2 - “Please don’t leave me.”

It’s dark and it’s late, and Bitty wakes up from a nightmare with the chills. He sits up in bed, shivers, and looks around him.

The apartment is its still, silent self. Blue curtains hang heavy at the fringes of the windows. Providence glitters through the panes. Next to him, Jack sleeps soundly, shoulders and chest rising and falling beneath the bedclothes. He has practice in the morning, and Bitty should really just leave him be. But the shiver is still vibrating in the base of Bitty’s spine. He closes his eyes, remembers the nightmare, and sighs resolutely.

Worming his way back down under the covers, he leans heavily against Jack’s side. “Hey,” he whispers.

Jack’s breathing stutters. He makes a soft, guttural noise.

Bitty tries again. “Hey, honey.”

Now Jack comes fully awake, turning on instinct to slide his arm around Bitty. “You okay, Bits?” When Bitty doesn’t answer, he presses further. “What is it?”

With a sigh, Bitty nestles into his embrace. “Nothing, really,” he says. “I just sort of wanted.. to hear your voice, I guess.”

“What happened?” Jack’s voice is less languid now, more alert and concerned.

“I just had a silly dream,” Bitty confesses.

Jack’s silent, waiting for him to go on. How he always knows – when to speak, when to say nothing – is beyond Bitty’s comprehension, but Bitty’s glad for it nonetheless.

“It was my parents,” he says. “They were mad at me for … for some stupid reason, I can’t even remember what it was. But then you came in and you saw they were mad, and you said–” Bitty swallows hard. “You said, ‘If they don’t approve of you, how can I?’ And you left.”

“What?” Jack’s voice rings out too-loud in the quiet room. “Bits, that’s horrible. I would never.”

“I know, I know,” Bitty assures him.

“It was a dream,” Jack insists. “I’d never.”

“I know. Just a dream.” But the memory of the dream feels so real now, the cold faces of his parents and the drop of his frozen heart into his boots when Jack turned his back…

He stiffens in Jack’s arms, and Jack sighs and folds him tighter into an embrace. “Come here,” he murmurs. Bitty allows himself to be gathered up, and he presses his face into Jack’s chest and listens to his heartbeat. Above him, Jack whispers a litany of soft, steady comfort. “I’m here,” Jack tells him. “I love you. I’m here. I’m with you no matter what.”

“Thank you,” Bitty whispers into Jack’s chest. “Thank you, honey.”

“Of course.” Jack kisses Bitty’s forehead, a long press of lips that finally fades away. Bitty feels it like a lantern in the dark, spreading warmth through his body. Jack’s kiss blesses him, and the weight of the dream lifts from his shoulders.

When Bitty’s ready – and it takes him more long, long moments before he’s ready – he pushes back onto his side of the bed and lies on his back, looking up at the ceiling. “I should get back to sleep,” he says.

Jack layers his hand over Bitty’s, under the covers. “Dream of good things.”

He says it like an order. Bitty’s lips twitch. “Yes, sir, captain.”

Jack chuckles. “Good night, Bits.” He squeezes Bitty’s hand and closes his eyes again.

The sudden sink of his heart surprises Bitty. He didn’t expect this feeling, like the moment Jack’s eyes closed, he’d been left alone again. But here it is, and he’s all at once full of sorrow. He peers through the darkness at Jack, wishing for something he doesn’t have the name for. Maybe for Jack to wake up, hold him again, hold him all night if need be. Silly. He needs to sleep. And if you do need him, wake him up again. But really, go back to sleep, Eric Bittle. Honestly.

But he doesn’t. He stares at Jack, then up at the ceiling, and feels like a puzzle with a missing piece. He inhales. Exhales. Tries to figure out what remains unsaid. He doesn’t know, but he knows it needs saying.

“Jack?” he finally whispers.

“Yeah?”

Thank goodness, he’s not asleep yet. Bitty clenches a fist and listens to his own words as they tumble out. “If things don’t work out. With my parents. I mean, if when I finally tell them they don’t– if it doesn’t go the way I–” He heaves a sigh. “Just… please don’t leave me.”

Jack turns onto his side. He lifts his hand to cup Bitty’s cheek. His eyes shine bright in the darkness. “Bitty,” he says. “Never. I’m never going to leave you.”

It’s a promise neither of them knows if he’ll keep. The future is a dimly lit, faraway door that Bitty’s scared to walk through. Never is a silly word, in the face of so many uncertainties and what-ifs, because the flip side of never is forever and forever can’t be promised.

But looking at Jack right now, Bitty can believe that Jack believes in it. And maybe that’s all forever needs – two people who believe in it and refuse to stop.

Certainly, it’s all Bitty needs right now.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he says, and closes his eyes.

sometimes on clear nights, the dark sky devoid of clouds and the moon feeling like it’s so close you could reach out and touch it, moonlight spills into magnus’s apartment in a way that takes alec’s breath away. the first time he saw it he wondered distantly if it wasn’t some kind of spell, the light seeming so extraordinary as it dripped across balcony and through the huge panes of the windows, crawling across the rugs as the moon rose in the sky. he’s seen it many times by now, seen the way it dances in the curtains, how it looks when all the candles have long since burnt out and all that’s left is that blue white glow as alec listens to magnus’s slow easy breathing. tonight no one is asleep yet, and alec stands alone at the window, with a glass of wine in hand, that warm molasses feeling in his veins. the warm embrace of bed is calling, the whispers of sleep hanging in heavy eyelids but dinner isn’t cleaned up quite yet. so he stands, fingers curled around his wine glass and stares out at new york, watching the way the moonlight catches and shifts on the tops of apartment buildings and clashes with the sodium glow of streetlights. so when warm familiar weight presses up against his back, heavily ringed fingers crawling around his waist and across his stomach, he tenses, body going tight for a second until he relaxes into magnus’s arms and the press of warm, soft lips against his neck. sleepy eyelids droop, fall shut completely as those fingers find their way under his shirt and up across his skin, making his stomach muscles tense in their wake. “what are you doing darling?” the words are murmured, pressed in the small space between magnus’s lips and alec’s fluttery pulse and his eyes fall shut completely, hips shifting as he presses back, letting himself relax completely. “enjoying the moonlight.” he responds and magnus smiles into his skin. they sway there, close to the window, resting together, warm and content.

twenty-four.

Pairing: Jeon Jeongguk / Reader.

Genre: Parents AU with too much fluff.

Count: 1,059 words.


The morning invades the bedroom through the window pane, basking all that lays within in a shade of gold that melts the furniture to be indecipherable from the floorboards, limbs becoming one with the crisp white bed sheets. Everything moulds into a sole conglomeration of yellow in the blur of your lethargic vision, still waking, opening to another new day, a twenty-four hours of the kind of repetition that you adore. Live for. You rub the heels of your palms into your eyes, ridding of the sleep that still remains tucked and cosy within the corners, the haze eventually clearing to find your own corneas staring back at you in a face of four.

The tiny bird wriggles, speaks. “Morning, Mama.”

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GUYS

does your significant other ever do something cute as shit that’s totally basic and normal but you can’t help but die inside???????

cuz i was leaving his house today and sometimes he watches me leave and sometimes he doesn’t and tonight it was a bit cold so he shut the door but i could still see his head peeking through the half moon window pane at the top of the door bc he’s tall as fuck and i smiled and he waved and then i got in my car and i wanted to turn around to see if he was still looking but i didn’t want him to see that i was and then my car light went out and i quick peeked and he was still watching me and man

if y'all have no idea what i’m talking about i am sorry i am ranting but UGH it’s the best i love it he’s the best and i am so happy

(I was cleaning out my fic folder and found this little ficlet written during 5B. Not sure what it really is other than I had a lot of feelings about Killian being in the Underworld alone.)

Originally posted by thejeweloftherealm

+ + + +

The devil is in the details.

The sun shines here, but there is no warmth in its light. The beams crisscross the worn boards of the Jolly, but a coldness seeps into his bones – deep and aching – leaving him shivering even as the world looks bright and normal.

The devil is in the details.

He lies in his bunk at night, the moonlight filtering through the carved panes of his window, but everything is still. Too still. The ocean does not rock the ship, its comforting cadence gone quiet. No gentle sound of the waves against weathered wood – the creaks and moans of his home are no more. Only the sounds of his breathing filling the darkness remain.

The devil is in the details.

Her hand cups his cheek, her thumb lightly tracing the small scar there as she’s done thousands of times before. Her smile fills his heart, warms him like the sun here cannot, but as he look at her, something is off. The color of her eyes, what is it? Blue? Green, maybe. He can’t tell. The light is missing within their depths, in its place a strange, foreign flatness. And when she murmurs that she loves him, it sounds wrong. Like a song being sung out of tune, the words are right but the sound is just wrong.

The devil is in the details.

Finally, the false veil lifts and his reality is revealed. The illusion of his old life is turned to ash by the fires that ring him, and acceptance settles heavy on his bruised and bloodied shoulders. This is the fate he has earned, the due that he owes. This is where he belongs. He is Icarus and Emma his sun, he’s lucky to have flown so close for so long. His love fueled such folly even as his wings melted around him, but he knows he would do it all again if given a chance. As angry, impotent tears begin to burn behind his eyes, a soft chuckle echoes around him, and he suddenly realizes he’s not alone in this hell.

The devil is in the room.

Stay (request).

Mingyu forgets about a very special day. 

*

11:37 p.m.

Two hours passed since your reservation for the restaurant you made weeks ago.

Three hours since Mingyu was expected to be home.

You looked down at your phone, clutching onto it for dear life as you needed something to release your anger on, anything. And since you couldn’t wrap your hands around Mingyu’s neck, your phone had to do. You shifted from your position on the couch, making more room for yourself as you got comfortable. The wind was blowing hard now and you could feel the shakiness of your apartment windows, a cool but soft breeze escaped through the cracks of the window panes. It was a time of year you used to love but now have come to loathe.

Time passed and you could feel the drowsiness kick in, all of the stress from work and school was beginning to take a toll on you, and you might have fallen asleep right then and there, had it not been for the sudden rattling of keys you heard outside your door with a loud clink that followed after.

You got up from the couch and let the blanket you snuggled yourself with fall to the ground as you met your boyfriend at the door, trying to keep your cool. You couldn’t flip out, not yet. He rushed in, nearly throwing his luggage onto your floor and slammed the door shut and took a second to rub his arms warm before setting his eyes on you. His hair was partly blue and he’d gotten bigger. He looked good, but you weren’t about to admit that.  

“You look amazing, are you going somewhere? It’s kind of late isn’t it?” He asked as he came coming forward and gave you a quick kiss, before darting into the kitchen.

“Why are you late?” You asked with a flat tone, slowly following him in as you tried your hardest not to explode, the asshole didn’t even seem to remember.

“We got caught up in the dorms after we left the airport; manager hyung wanted us to clean up before we left.”

“And you didn’t feel the need to call?” You asked.

“I didn’t know I had to? You know these things happen jagi why are you acting so weird?”

“Because I called you like, a million times! I texted you, I left you messages. Did you not once think to let me know? You’re home for the first time in months and I don’t even get a phone call?” You half-yelled. It was nearing one in the morning and you didn’t want to raise your voice but the task seemed impossible.

Mingyu looked at you with hard eyes before crossing his arms, using his full height to tower over you. “I didn’t know I had to answer to my girlfriend like a fucking child Y/N. You’ve been on my case for weeks now! And do you know how clingy you sound? You’re starting to sound a lot like Yoona.”

Your eyes nearly popped out of its sockets. His last words ripped every bit of anger you had in you as your entire demeanor changed. You went from wanting to smack him to literally running away. He compared you to his ex-girlfriend, the girl who he claimed “drove him away for being so uptight and clingy”.

You took a step back from him to finally breathe in but held your gaze. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

“It’s the truth, I work hard for us, I don’t have time for anything and you of all people should have realized that. What’s the big deal with all of this anyway?” There he went again, using his words as bullets that he shot into your chest. This time you actually had to back away from him and grip onto the counter of your breakfast table. You didn’t know how much longer you could do this. Weeks, no months, of this routinely torture of having a boyfriend who’s never home, a boyfriend who never responds to texts, a boyfriend who never calls, a boyfriend who has no problem being photographed with other female idols whilst leaving parties, a boyfriend whose best friend has the time to call you but he for some reason doesn’t. A boyfriend who completely forgot about your two year anniversary.

You looked down at your left hand and put a finger on the tiny silver band that was placed on your ring finger, rubbing it once before taking it off. You placed the ring on the kitchen counter and looked up at Mingyu. He seemed confused by your gesture, but said nothing.

“I only call and text you so much because I care, which forgive me if that was wrong to do considering I was your girlfriend and that’s what girlfriends do.” You emphasized the ‘was’ and continued in a calm voice. “Mingyu, I put my entire life on hold for you for two years, I left everything I knew to make us happen. I made sure I was the perfect girlfriend, but you barely saw the effort. Everything’s changed, you’ve changed. And do you know why I was so upset tonight? Why my heart broke at 10 because I knew you were going to pull this on me? Because it’s our two year anniversary Kim Mingyu, you promised me exactly two months ago we could finally be together tonight.” And with that you stared at him, watching as his expression went from annoyed to completely devastated in realization. His arms fell to his sides and his mouth was agape, eyes searching yours as he tried to find the words to say.

When he didn’t respond, you turned your back on him and walked towards your bedroom. You reached for the big duffle that was conveniently placed on your bed and began throwing random clothes in.

Mingyu followed you in and grabbed a hold of your duffle and yanked it away from you.

“What’re you doing?”

You nearly laughed at how that was all he had to say. “I’m leaving.”

“You can’t go.” His voice faltered. You finally looked up at him and noticed his eyes glistening with tears. His lips were parted and trembling and the grip he had on your bag was so tight his knuckles were turning white. You nearly went to touch his face by instinct but kept your composure. You had to show him you were hurt, that he was wrong.

“Do you even realize what you said to me back there? That shit was not okay Mingyu, you can’t just go around doing your own thing and expect me to sit in the back seat. I’ve done that for two years and I can’t take it anymore.” Your voice broke a little near the end. You looked away from him and took your bag from him again and zipped it up, before making your way to the front door.

What he said next made you stop dead in your tracks.

“I would leave Seventeen for you.”

Those words, he said them quietly but firmly, as if he had put some thought into it before. As if he knew would have to say those words someday.

You turned around to face him, confusion sketched all over your face.

“W-what?”

Mingyu made his way towards you, cupping your face with his hands as you studied his face. He stared at you with a look of determination.

“I would leave Seventeen for you. I would do it; I would walk into the office building and tell them I was backing out of my contract. I would make you forget about this entire night, all the hurtful words I’ve said. I’d take it all back. I would do anything to take it all back.” He breathed out. He meant it. After realizing his foolish ways he nearly lost it himself in the kitchen at the thought of losing you. He wasn’t going to let his recent behavior overshadow what you two used to have. 

You forced yourself to take a step back from him, immediately regretting the warmth of his hands that were placed softly on your face.

“Mingyu don’t be ridiculous and dramatic. You can’t do that. I won’t let you.”

“I can, and I will. Whatever it takes. I’ve treated you like shit and I’m not going to do that anymore. Being an idol means nothing if I don’t have you by my side.” His words planted themselves in your mind, and you nearly believed him, because the look he gave you screamed sincerity.

When you didn’t respond, he took the opportunity to lace his fingers with yours, bringing them up to his mouth to place kisses on your knuckles. He dropped them to your sides again, before cupping your face and cocking his head to be near eye level with you.

“Please” He whispered, “Just stay.”

Fallout Pt. 13 | Jungkook Apocalyptic!AU

Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19

Masterlist | Fallout Masterpost + Trailer

Genre: Post-Apocalyptic AU. Angst.  

Word count: 5k

Synopsis: After the bombs fell, there was nothing on the world besides grey; grey skies, grey pastures, and grey people. The world had been devastated, and the sole motor of your every action was pure instinct because, deep inside, you only wished you had died with the majority of human kind. There was no good people left in that world, not even you. And when his dark figure hovered over you and brought you forcefully with him you confirmed it.
They were no good either.

N/A: EDITED! AND RE-EDITED (because i was probably half asleep while doing it the first time) Have fun reading! Feedback is more than welcome people!!

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of rape/abuse, blood, violence, gore, zombies, sexual contents/references.

Originally posted by jjks

A ray of sunshine disturbed you in your sleep. It played over your eyes, gleaming and waving as a faint current of air filtrated through the window pane and moved the thin fabric that covered it. It was a substitute of a curtain that did not fulfil is task properly. You opened your eyes slowly, and the vague memory of the previous day’s events returned to your mind, still hazy.

Jungkook was still laying by your side. His face was too close to yours, your noses almost touching. It was too close for your comfort, and definitely way too close for your own safety. The mattress creaked when you tried to move away from him, and his eyes popped open. In his swollen eyes you could see the confusion that overtook him when he noticed you so close to him. The distance between your bodies was almost none, but he did not say a word about it.

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3

“He remembers those vanished years. As though looking through a dusty window pane, the past is something he could see, but not touch. And everything he sees is blurred and indistinct.”

-In the Mood For Love (2000)

shaji-khan  asked:

Could it be, that you're tired of me? Silly, I mean no harm, you see. My words might be too painful to thee, but surely, through the pain lies the key. My words are like raindrops. They fall on you, but just as well might have fallen on somebody (else)

Sweet friend, how could I tire of you?
Your words are a window
I yearn to peer through
The pain is the pane but
I see cracks in the glass
The wind from the world
Seeps closer at last
One day I know
you’ll feel the warmth
of the sun
Instead of snow

My definition of a perfect weekend:

1. Waking up to the sound of the rain at 7 am and feeling well-rested for the first time in what feels like forever


2. Lying in bed for the next hour of two, continuing the book you fell asleep reading


3. Making breakfast while still in pajamas, watching your favorite show as you sip on hot cocoa


4. Taking a hot bath and finally getting the chance to wear your favorite sweater after


5. Hunching over your worktable till afternoon, determined to complete new pieces of art


6. Strumming a few chords on guitar to go with the faltering booms of thunder echoing through your window panes


7. Going to bed without a worry in the world, not having to think of what may come up the next morning

My solitude is sublime; the roaring of the wind is my wife; and the stars through my window-panes, these beautiful particles, constantly fill up my heart. The mighty abstract idea of Beauty in all things, I have, stifles the more divided and minute domestic happiness. I feel more and more, every day, as my imagination strengthens, that I do not live in this world alone, but in a thousand worlds.
—  John Keats, from ‘Life & Letters’