( kkt: 주니엘 ) [ 9:42am ] ━ from a whole another end of the world - happy late birthday to your career! here's to another seven eventful and creative years 🍾 obligatory celebration when i'm back in the country? ㅋ
— @sgeniuslab
Tranquility filled every room of her apartment. Darkness let it in the moment Seoah fell asleep. Although serenity was welcomed to stay in her abode, her pets thought otherwise. Swift as they were with cushioned paws to limit the noise, two felines wandered around the room in hopes their owner would awake soon enough. The sun couldn’t peek through the curtains of her room but a source of light released a brief glow, which caught the attention of Maro, the white Munchkin.
And Maro didn’t care less that it was his owner’s phone.
It was with curiosity that he approached the device, each step closer expressed with hesitation and skepticism. He sniffed, poked, poked once more— oh! The phone rotated and caused the cat to step back, sharps eyes on their target, but soon playfulness overthrown fear. Maro was back to poking, even tossing what became an improvised toy. The movements and noise grabbed the attention of the other cat. A Neva Masquerade whose tail swung in slow motion before a paw struck the device, but hit Maro instead.
Another fight begun!
❝Hina… Maro?❞ Hearing the two cats hiss at one another, the lump underneath the blanket moved and soon revealed itself as Seoah with disheveled hair and squinted eyes. ❝What are you two fighting about in the morning? Wait… is it still morning?❞
Seoah could tell the sun was up for a while. But for how long? The answer wasn’t of importance when she barely found her slippers and dragged her feet to her phone. Maro escaped the eventual reprimand while Hina demanded affection, which she received once her master sat on the floor.
❝Ah. That’s why you two fought.❞ The soloist chuckled. ❝I guess Yoongi is to blame, hm?❞
[ 카톡 → 슈가 ] [ 9:49 AM ]
Where precisely are you right now? ㅋ Thank you though! 7 years… it honestly doesn’t feel like it… !!! I can’t turn down an obligatory celebration, right? ㅋㅋㅋ I hope you’re coming back soon?
“ i dreamt about you last night. ” (i'll happily write with any muse, really)
SIX-WORD SENTENCES. STATUS: ACCEPTING!
“are you sure it wasn’t about all of the sweets i prepare in one day instead?” jax smiles big, cheerful, two hands behind her back in a way that seems polite yet… suspicious. she knows the male through a strange connection: the bakery she works at just happens to be the special little one his group’s manager(s) frequents for desserts for special occasions. being that she’s only been in korea for a few ‘months’ now, she’s only had the chance to meet him once. somehow that led her a way more huge opportunity, the request of a special delivery done purely out of the goodness of her heart (because the shop doesn’t do those otherwise) rewarded with... well, an honor to meet the very group herself. even if only for a brief moment. it’s now that she pulls her hands out from behind her back to reveal a slice of cake with two forks. “i know you’re probably on a diet and all, but i won’t tell if you don’t!” she figures now is a good time for a nice little bribe. “as long as you give me more details of this dream...”
!! – ✧ SEND ME A HEART TO LEARN SOMETHING ABOUT MY MUSE ; @sgeniuslab , not accepting.
💛: DOES SANA BELIEVE IN LOVE-AT-FIRST-SIGHT ?? IN SOULMATES ?? IN FATE ??
━ ♡ ; maybe, she isn’t really sure whether love at first sight is reality or not, as she’s certain that there’s more to loving someone than seeing them once – however, the idea of it is quite endearing to her, & she does wish for it to be something people experience, hopefully with good outcomes, of course !! but as she’s never felt something even remotely close to it there’s a certain hesitant attitude, making it a strong ‘ maybe ’ with the hopes of it one day turning into a clear ‘ yes ’.
soulmates are definitely a yes, though !! without having to think about it too much, there must be this one person you just immediately click with – where everything is going right & it feels as if you’ve found a long lost part of yourself, something you never really thought had been missing in the first place. maybe that’s the hopeless romantic in her speaking, but soulmates are real & so is fate. everything happens for a reason, you meet people because life had its plans with you – for sana, reason = fate, she doesn’t really differentiate between the two.
↻ ┇ ❛ late night reflective asks ❜ ; @sgeniuslab / not accepting.
galaxies: what are three things you want to do before you die?
date: december 2017time: 12:03amlocation: bts dorm.
“jimin-ah?”
the tone he uses is serious. at least, too serious for the way he’d been acting a mere ten minutes ago, mouth wide and laughing as little paws skittered across the mattress. jimin had recorded the entire thing, unsteady with too much zoom, and he’s sure when it’s played back, it’ll show two rows of perfect teeth and a dark mass of puppy fur — all in high definition and to the soundtrack of his own quiet laughter. so, really, the sudden shift has jimin looking away from his phone immediately, fingers ring-free, pausing where they hover over the screen.
it’s only because there are few things that can make him sound like that, none of them good.
then again, he thinks as he watches his expression morph into something a little more thoughtful, he’d have listened anyway, no matter the occasion. he always only ever listens, both when he’s asked, and especially when he isn’t.
“what’s wrong?”
a beat of silence. jimin can hear someone cough as they pass down the hallway. his groupmate’s mouth falls open, a row of those straight teeth on display, edging the pink of his lips. have you done everything you want to do before you die? i mean, is this, mm, what you wanted?
jimin blinks. opens his mouth, closes it. if there was anything he’d been expecting, it wasn’t this, and he finds his hands itching to curl into the sky blue of the blanket, just for something to do.
“no,” he says finally, when he can unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth. he’s certain, but it comes out more like a question than anything else. “i don’t think i could be happier with where we’re at.” and it’s true. he probably couldn’t. disbelief clouds his mind half of the time. still, there’s no question about it — he’s only twenty-three, and they’re still going. “there are other things i’d like to do before that happens. of course there are.”
things like own two more dogs, maybe a cat. definitely a cat, one with tricolored fur and green eyes. travel the world and perform in every country that they can, sell out entire arenas for bangtan’s tenth anniversary. finally get to visit new york. or fall in love. stay in love. it’s a little bit cliche, but everyone knows he’s somewhat of a romantic. maybe it’d be nice, having the type of love that makes your chest ache because your heart’s so full. having someone that drives you so crazy you can barely stand it. ( the thought should make him feel better than it actually does. )
his mind shutters. suddenly, he’s tired.
so he says none of these things out loud, simply hums and sinks further down into the mattress. laughs out an apology when he near flattens the puppy that’s taken up temporary residence against his side. the tail end of an unfinished conversation.
( i don’t blame you. )
“you know what’s number one on that list?” he says, a bit too playful, a beat too late. there’s an impish smile working its way along his lips despite himself, because those eyes are looking at him like he’s about to divulge one of the world’s most coveted secrets. they’re so wide, so curious, that he almost feels bad he doesn’t actually give him what he’s asking for. “sleeping. we have early schedules tomorrow, hyung told us that earlier. don’t act like you don’t remember. now go to your own room. i’m keeping him with me.”
but only almost.
full moon: what type of person do you hope to be?
date: circa 2012.time: undetermined.location: seoul, unspecified.
he sighs, a deafening blast of static in jimin’s ear. any other time, jimin would’ve scolded him, but right now, he can’t muster up the energy to do it. and anyway, for as sad as it sounds, it still reminds him of cool mornings and teasing laughter. long walks down the road at night, the promise of somewhere stable.
somewhere like home.
( he misses it. misses them. )
how are you? are you eating? how much do you miss your hyung?
- i’m fine, don’t worry. i’m eating well. you know mom.…jimin hyung, if you want to talk, all you have to do is say so.
“do you remember… what you told me before you left?”
he does. he lets jihyun go on, anyway.
“you told me that you’d make it. you said you’d become someone that everyone can be proud of.” more static pushes through the speaker, spills over into the silence of the studio before it quiets again. “didn’t you? even if it’s hard. you didn’t move off just to come back home again empty-handed.”
he’s right. he hadn’t. but i hadn’t banked on the push and pull, the yes then no, either. later on, he’ll wonder if it’s some sort of game to them, wonder where it is, exactly, that he’ll end up. now, though, he can only agree, because it’s better that than a fight. jihyun’s trying. “yeah.”
“you’ll do that, hyung. i know you will. so don’t give up, alright?”
she speaks of stepping, yet they continue standing still.
she mentions fresh, and even long long moments later yoongi is still stuck in the same position of leaning against the balcony’s rail, head turned in her direction and both hands and cheeks itching from the bite of winter night’s cold.
he knows she speaks in metaphors to him, but the knowledge itself is not enough and he still struggles to see the meaning behind it, slowly approaching to solve it like a riddle. people are like that to him, the intelligent ones at least, (and troubled ones, even more so), breathing and walking puzzles that yoongi tends to spend way too much time on trying to piece together and see their entire picture. he likes it, so he never quite complains, the life-long process proving to be an endless inspiration for his music, but sometimes – times like these – when he feels an untold urgency, a pressure of time in regards to his reaction, it simply stresses him out and makes him wish he could see things–people–in a different light. a normal one. an easy one.
and, god, she could mean so much by this, so many different things. for some people, ‘away’ is just a few steps, crossed in matters of seconds, while for others it’s entire centuries of wandering and looking for unspecified things. fresh air is sometimes just that, fresh air, but other times it’s anything else in the world – anything than the things a person possesses at the time. another place, another time, another circumstance, another–crowd.
he looks at her, her profile a little sad, a little melancholic and a whole lot pondering, (she’d make for a good piece of art, he thinks, and wonders if she’d be entertained by the idea he’s not daring to voice at the moment), and for a moment, the only thing he’s able to focus on is one tiny question: am i the fresh air or still basking in the dense fumes of the past?
“the world is your oyster,” the most banal words end up leaving his mouth, because for all the creative writing and philosophical thinking he does, he’s still a very simple man of a very few words. “there’s nothing really stopping you. and while you’re at it, bottle me some of that fresh air when you manage to catch it, will you? i’m afraid i won’t be able to chase after it for a while.”
there are no words for this. how after a certain hour, everything starts to color over in shades of blue. some darker than others. some locking her tongue, others setting it free. hyeri has no words for this, and maybe yoongi knows. maybe that's why he's here. never on purpose, but somehow, somehow...
( somehow. always somehow. )
she looks out over the balcony ledge. the city is half-awake, half-asleep. bright lights and tiny dots lining the street. she wonders how many of them simply roam with no place to go, nowhere to be. after a while, she decides it doesn’t matter. what she knows is how her cheeks grow ruddy when the wind hits them at just the right angle. how she can feel his eyes on her when her hands wrap around the rail. she forgets the gloves in her pocket, letting the winter chill kiss her fingertips to a numbing tingle. she doesn't mind it so much. it had stopped feeling terribly cold long ago.
“i'll try my best,” she turns her head to grin. wide and cheeky. a brief second of a spark in expression, and then it simmers down again.
his words are too simple to be surprising. she laughs, not knowing what else to expect. not knowing what she wants to expect. ( no words for this. no words at all. ) her laughter catches in the wind, soft and weightless. there's a car that blares its horn down the street, and she raises her voice, just a bit: “but i dunno... i don't think it's something that's meant to be caught.”
she shrugs and turns on her heels, back against the rail. she can barely make out his silhouette when she looks over, and after a lingering second of searching, she finally catches his eyes.
