Colors

colors

PAIRING: hwang hyunjin x reader GENRE: fluff, established relationship WC: 558 WARNINGS: none

"There are only 3 primary colors, right?" you ask mindlessly as you watch Hyunjin's brush glide across the canvas. You heard a low hum from him before asking, "Who named the colors?"

he rolls his eyes, and a thin smile creeps on his face.

"What's on your mind pretty?" he asks softly, still focusing on the canvas in front of him. You had agreed to be his muse today. Though a very basic muse, you must say. He doesn't even let you hold any props, so you just sit there with a flower slipped in your ear.

"Well, orange comes from mixing red and yellow, so why not call it yed?" you propose.

Hyunjin stops to look at you with his confused face. "Yed?"

"Yes? well, you mix yellow and red? Yed? Or should it be redow?"

"You're absurd," he laughs, continuing his sweep of brush. You're cute, was what he was actually thinking. Since you sat on that chair, you hadn't stopped talking about everything, from the workplace stress you're currently experiencing, to stories of stray cats in your apartment complex. Your voice was a better substitute for the music he put on every time he started painting.

"Green should be called yellue," you push forward. Laughing when the words repeated itself in your head. "Isn't that cute, Hyune, yellue?" you ask.

"Sure, my love," he answered. "Tell me everything on that pretty head of yours."

"I think, you don't need me to sit here," you said softly. Hyunjin laughs again. If he's being honest, it's his first time drawing the muse directly. He could have snapped a picture of you and used it as a reference, that's what he always does. But who he is to say no when you're the one offering to be his muse for a day?

"Weren't you the one offering yourself?" He asks, not paying much attention to you who had started to stand. You stopped in your tracks, thinking to yourself.

"Right..." you shyly said. You walked behind him, leaning down to rest your chin on his left shoulder. You are the muse, but you're certain that the scene doesn't look anything like his painting. Not in a bad way, just in a very hyperbole way that the background colors seem to be muted while he gives you the spotlight with all the vibrant colors.

Hyunjin turned his head, pressing a kiss on your cheek. "What do you think?"

"I don't think there's any word that can describe the elegance of that painting, Hyune," you answered. "I think you're a great artist, I'm pretty sure I'm not as beautiful as the person in the canvas."

Hyunjin puts down his palette on the little table next to the canvas before standing up. He grabs your shoulder, just looking at you. No matter how many times he memorized your features, he can't stop admiring your angelic nature.

It's true that an artist's eyes see colors in a spectrum that's never existed before, but you're different. Hyunjin had always thought that he already saw all the colors of life, but your existence in his life gives him a taste of a new kind of rainbow. And he wished for nothing more than you to see yourself from his point of view.

"Believe me, my love, no colors can do justice to paint you."

a/n. Ramadhan Kareem everyone! We're well fed this month by the amount of skz record the kids released and some said we're getting cb announcement at fanmeeting😃 can't wait!!!!!!

Hey stayblr, I've been thinking of ways we can unite to help Palestine in the current genocide. With Israel closing borders again, no aid is allowed in and local organizations on the ground urgently need our help. So, i thought of rallying to raise donations for Palestine, big or small, as every dollar counts and can truly make a difference. Our initial target is to raise 1500 dollars, to be split between Care for Gaza and UNRWA. We’ll raise the target goal according to our progress!

For transparency, donations will be received through my Kofi, with daily updates on our progress. Here are the links to UNRWA’s and Careforgaza’s work in Gaza!

Palestinians are saying that this is the worst phase of the genocide yet. They need as much of our help as we can give them, so please, let’s all stand together for this.

If you cannot donate

- please reblog and share around!

- stream hind’s hall (all proceeds will be donated to unrwa!

update as of 17/05/2024- [12:26 p.m.] : 870 dollars

saturday rain

PAIRING: xu minghao x reader GENRE: strangers on the park, hurt-comfort WC: 577 WARNING: reader is stressed out

Minghao thinks there's something magical about Saturday's rain. After a long week of work, Saturday feels like the reward, but at the same time the calm before the storm. So when the weather forecast on his phone gives a 100% probability of rain (meaning it already rains when he checked the app, he just wants to make sure that the rain is equal in every part of town), he goes out with his umbrella.

His feet involuntarily make their way to the park. He expected it to be empty, even though he hoped to see little kids running around just enjoying the rain.

He did not, however, expect to see someone sitting on the bench, wearing a yellow raincoat. Getting rained on, alone, yet your face shows no emotion.

You don't seem to notice him and he wishes he could do the same. A thousand thoughts run around his head, a classic mental battle of whether should he approach you or not. he doesn't even know you but he's growing worrisome as minutes pass by and you stay unmoved.

"Care for a company?" he asks, finally approaching you. You try to wipe the water in your face to no extent.

"I don't mean to be rude," you start with a shaky voice. "But I'm completely fine," you look up to him, offering a thin smile. "I guess," you add.

Minghao just nods before walking away from you to the center of the park. At least he asked, right?

Minutes later, he found himself sitting far away from you, watching your back for signs of shaking, or anything. Anything that tells him you still feel something. He knows he will be crossing so many boundaries that he would never want if he's on the receiving end, but he can't. He can't just stand by and watch while you wait for the rain to hit a certain button that will break the dam.

So Minghao sat next to you. He doesn't talk or anything, just holding the umbrella for the both of you. He doesn't mind getting a little soaked in the left part of his body. He doesn't mind it too when you start sobbing uncontrollably. Your cries pierce through his heart, drowning the sound of the rain itself.

When you finally stop crying, the dark clouds have lifted. Only drizzle remains as the skies get clearer.

Hao stood up, offering a handkerchief that somehow ended up in the pocket of his coat, which you gladly take.

"Keep it," Minghao said. He had wanted to tell you to call him if you needed a friend to talk to or a shoulder to cry on so that at least you're not alone. But he couldn't. He shouldn't.

You thanked him quietly, trying to steady your voice. He nodded quickly before leaving you alone once again. Minghao made a mental note to come to visit the park more frequently in the future, waiting for you in your yellow raincoat.

And you, well, you watched as he walked away. A streak of color appeared on the horizon where he was headed. On top of that, you wished that the rules of "there's always rainbows after the rain" would still apply to your life.

When Minghao looked up ahead, a thin smile formed on his face. After all, there's still magic on Saturday's rain, and he prayed that the magic would still be on his side (and yours) until you meet again.

a/n. i love to stay in when it rains on a saturday... also i can cancel on plans because it rains??? why do you want me to be out on a rainy saturday???

blossom

PAIRING: bang chan x f!reader GENRE: fluff WC: 0.9k WARNINGS: none, just kisses:] a/n. [based on this request ! my brain never worked so quick when i saw a prompt. everyone say thank you anon for requesting heheh. also, sorry for taking so long to get back to you, dear anon😞]

“A penny for your thought?” Chan asked, taking a seat right next to you, making your whole body shiver when his arms brushed yours. You turned your head slightly, eyes landing quickly on the thing under his nose. You blink before forcing a smile. Act normal, please, act normal.

You really can’t.

It’s not like you haven’t been kissed by him, who has been your boyfriend for the last couple of months. But it hits differently when you dream about a specific kissing scene. Maybe it was the influence of numerous romance dramas you watched, combined with the fact that you can’t get enough of his kiss. Maybe you’re going crazy. Crazy in love. Or it’s a mix of both.

“A penny is too cheap,” you replied jokingly, trying to not sound too nervous. You don’t dare to look at him again because your heart is starting to go thump-thump-thump under your ribcage and one look at Chan might just give you a heart attack on site.

The thing is you can’t get the image out of your head. The dream you had last night. Of you and Chan. Kissing. Under the rain.

It always looks so romantic on TV, but you hate that the majority of them always start after a heated argument. You understand the desperation, you understand the appeal of the angst, but the dream you had last night was just… so… sweet.

“A kiss?” he offered leaning in your direction with a playful smile. Your eyes widen and you can feel heat spread across your face. Chan laughed a little before teasing you even more, making you stand up from the sofa. “You’re blushing, you know that? Haven’t I kissed my beautiful girlfriend today?” he asks, following you to the kitchen where you take a glass of water and drink it hastily. Praying that it could cool you down.

You glance out the window. These days the skies have been a bit moody and then as if on cue, it starts to rain.

Chan’s hand snake on your waist, hugging you from behind. The gears on your head are turning. You had to bring that image to life even if that meant you’ll catch a cold afterwards. But how? You can’t directly say to him that you want to kiss under the rain… It feels so childish… Besides, it will just catapult his ego out of this planet and he'll bring it up to you on all possible occasions.

“Where are you?” Chan asked, pressing a kiss on the side of your temple. It feels like the contact of his lips and your skin turned on the switch in your brain.

You turned to face him, leaning in closer until your nose met each other. His eyes fluttered close, but you use that moment to escape his strong arms into the front door. In the back of your head, you can see him with a lowered head, hands on both hips, all while trying not to smile at your sudden prank. You let yourself roam the road, feeling the rain turn from a drizzle into a more constant shower.

Chan followed you out but made no movement to join you who started to run around in the empty road. It’s been ages since you voluntarily stand under the rain and actually enjoy it. The rain always does an excellent job of washing away your worries for a while.

You stopped, with hands outstretched to him. Inviting. Waiting. Please take the bait, please take the bait, you wished. “Catch me if you can,” was the word you half-shouted to him.

He raised his eyebrow, seemingly unamused. It’s a mental game, waiting around on who can stand being five feet away from each other. But like every other time, he loses this one too when he stepped out from the porch into the pouring rain.

You dodged him when he tried to trap you in a hug, laughing like a little kid. When you look at him, you swear that he’s the prettiest thing on earth. He’s like a flower who just gets watered; vibrant, full of colors. And his smile, God, his smile is enough for you to stand under the rain forever.

You give up at last. Letting him attack you with tickles all over your body.

“I admit defeat,” you try to squeeze in between laughs. He stopped tickling without taking his hands off your waist. Pulling you closer and turning you to face him. “Hi,” you said when you finally met Chan face to face.

“You’re having too much fun for someone who might complain about their cold and runny nose the next couple of days, babe,” he said. You just smile sheepishly before tiptoeing to give him a quick kiss. “That’s it?” he asks back. You nodded in reply. He tch-ed, head dipped to meet your trembling lips. You circle your hand on his neck as he lifts you up from the ground, spinning you around a bit. His lips taste like the honey chapstick he uses, warm against your own.

“That’s definitely better than my dream,” you admit with a wide smile. You’re cradling his head, forehead pressed against each other. Chan laughs earnestly, finally seeing behind the curtains.

“Next time you have some romance scenarios in your head, just tell me,” Chan offered. You roll your eyes, still holding the smile on your face.

What once woke you up from your sleep now becomes the image you see before you close your eyes. A thousand times better than any scenes you ever watch and definitely worth the cold that comes after too.

a/n. i wrote this in like 2 hours i didn't know how it got this long maybe i just missed him a little too much:/

he's SOOOOOO HOPELESS i love him sm

"better, now."

words・749 / pairing・hyunjin x gn!stylist!reader / includes・fluff, established relationship, alcohol consumption / note・an extremely self-indulgent kinda emo take on hyunjin @ vfw. takes place in the crying lightning universe.

Hyunjin is gone.

He stopped walking and started floating about five drinks ago, bode farewell to coherent sentences and his eyesight not too long after. Simply kept plucking flutes of champagne off trays carried around by kindred waiters and let himself bask in the glorious evening.

When his stylist shows up in front of him, he mistakes them for the moon.

Gentle hands push strands of sweaty hair out of his eyes, then move to cup his cheeks fondly, protectively, as if imprinting final touches into a snow angel. He watches your lips form his name from mere centimeters away, but the sound of it seems to travel underwater.

“Hyunjin,” you repeat, more audibly this time, a lick of crisp night air cutting through the afterparty’s steamy throng.

He proceeds to melt into you in ways he cannot currently control, sliding a hand over the one you have on the side of his face, fingertips dipping in the slots between yours. Bringing you close enough to him that your chest moulds right against his. Grinning at you with a sickening sweetness that he can taste on his own mouth.

“Hi,” he replies.

“You okay? How are you?” You inquire. “Do you need anything?”

“Hi,” he says again, because he can’t really think of anything else, and that seems to be answer enough.

Before he knows it, he’s walking somewhere, guided only by the arm that he has slung over your shoulders and your silhouette, just barely discernible in the dim venue, which he would follow to the ends of the earth.

An indeterminate amount of time later, he’s standing in the doorway of an unoccupied lounge. The tables of polished mahogany and gold foil have become graveyards of empty wine glasses, but the couch in the middle of the room has been left pristine.

Only after he sits down does the lightheadedness hit, and it hits hard, hard enough to shut his eyes and furrow his brow. His brain swings around the inside of his skull like a pendulum.

There is a delicate brush of your finger against his chin, your quiet request for him to lift it up, and then something hard and cold comes to rest on his lower lip. Water surrounds his tonsils and slips down his throat. A few stray rivulets escape down the side of his neck, then disappear into the napkin that you have pressed upon the skin.

By the time he’s downed the whole glass, he can feel his wits beginning to return—with them, the rest of his senses. His eyes crack open again.

“Hot,” he whispers. “It’s hot.”

You move your hands to his shoulders. Moments later, his jacket is a leather mass over the back of the couch, and he feels his dizziness subside, his oxygen return. 

“Better?”

With the music so far away, he hears the concern in your tone with crystalline clarity. He leans over to press his lips to the underside of your jaw, conveying a silent message: better, now.

He didn’t have plans to spend the night backstage, but the premise seems riveting where he comes to lie. His head nestled in the plush of your lap, the rest of him stretched across the sofa, your hand carding through his hair with the soporific lull of a mellow tide.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles suddenly, and you look down at him, confused.

“For?”

“Getting so drunk.”

If your hand is the tide, your laugh is the sand, warm and ubiquitous and all-consuming. “You had a good time, yeah?”

A good time. What an understatement for the maelstrom of feeling still raging on within him, the happiness and disbelief and pride and gratitude to himself, to you. To us.

“The best,” he answers.

“That’s all that matters, then,” you hum, your thumb dusting over his hairline. “You deserve to celebrate.”

He’s still too drunk to really think, but he doesn’t have to think when it comes to you—just knows in the very wellsprings of his soul all the love you’ve woven into the thing you’re about to say, by the infinitesimal softening of your eyes alone.

“You deserve everything, baby.”

He lifts your wrist to his lips, presses a kiss to your pulse. Above him, your features blur, then come back into focus. His answer is so soft that he almost can’t hear it over the warble of his heartbeat and the descent of his tears.

“I’ve got it right here.”

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© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · liked this work? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support ♡

fine line

PAIRING: kim seungmin x reader GENRE: fluff WC: 572 WARNINGS: none(?)

“Okay, that’s it,” Seungmin closed the book he was holding, looking directly at you. “What’s going on with you?”

Nothing’s going on with you, is what you want to say. But you just stopped scrolling and shifted your gaze to Seungmin who was leaning on the couch across from you. Your eyebrows raised in a questioning manner.

“You’ve sighed like 100 times in the past 15 minutes,” Seungmin observes. You rolled your eyes at him, focusing back on your screen. You scroll past a book review video; too tired to think, scroll past a breakfast recipe without saving it, scroll past a cute animation video without even smiling.

“101 times now,” Seungmin announces. You look at him, still not saying anything. Afraid that if you even open your mouth, you won’t stop talking. Seungmin stands from his seat and moves to the other end of your couch. He lifted your feet fleetingly before sitting down with your feet on his lap. “Don’t you want to share what’s inside that little brain of yours?”

“Are you saying I’m dumb?” you voiced for the first time since the last hour. You wittingly press your heel towards his thigh, earning a low grumble from Seungmin.

“That’s your word, I won’t say such things to my girlfriend,” Seungmin said, drumming to your shin. “So?”

You unintentionally sigh and then smile at Seungmin when you realize before setting your phone on your chest.

“Don’t you feel like the world is moving too fast?” you proposed. Lately, the bones in your body refuse to cooperate, and you’re just constantly tired. “Weren’t we just graduating high school yesterday? And suddenly we’re going on our own way, doing interns and everything else. It’s like we don’t even have time for each other.” your voice waning.

“Aw, is this your way of saying you miss me?” Seungmin teased. You respond by once again pressing your heel towards his thigh. “But I get you” he leaned back on the couch, pausing to find the right word to respond to you. You sigh again, laughing now that you remember the exact count of how many times you sigh.

“I don’t think it’s normal to feel this way, because like… we have different paces, and I shouldn’t compare myself to others. But at the same time, I just can’t stop thinking about where we’ll go in life… What will happen to… us?”

“Do you think we’ll break up after we graduate?” You nodded sheepishly. A grin plastered on your face, matching Seungmin’s playful energy. He puts a hand over his chest, sounding hurt, “Unbelievable.”

You laugh ardently. Of course, there’s only a small part of you that thinks that way, the others are proceeding with certainty that you’ll get through whatever crisis this is with him.

“I know you’ve heard enough of it, and it probably won’t have any effects. But we’re going to be fine, babe,” Seungmin said, tracing circles on your shin. “The future’s undecided, right, but we’re doing everything we can right now to shape it into something that we dreamt about.”

And he’s only wrong about one thing, every word he says does have its effect on you, and you believe in him. You believe you’ll be fine.

a/n. shout out to every last-year college student out there. we got this<3 also seungmin kinda look like jake (enha) on that pic... he's so boyfriend