l-u-n-a-r-i

[l-u-n-a-r-i]

camboy

[l-u-n-a-r-i]

it be that way sometimes

[l-u-n-a-r-i]

If I could reblog a million times I would.

reblog if you agree that Johnny deserves a solo album

Only way SM could pay back Johnny for all his hardwork

[l-u-n-a-r-i]

his eyes

Synopsis: In which both he and she are in love with each others’ eyes.

Eyes rich with the earth’s soil speckled by saplings in the summer breeze. A hint of mahogany cast under the shadows of the field of eyelashes. His eyes inked with a smooth ganache when he did not hesitate to carry the bags of groceries from the elderly woman. Eyes rimmed with hazelnut when he leaned in to listen to a friend’s story, doe-like orbs wrapped in the warmth and tenderness of a soft kiss, peering out of its sockets reflecting a glint of mischievousness which seemed to parallel the smirk threatening to flash a grin. Eyes made of the finest piece of china, like the one night when he was scribbling on his notepad mumbling incoherent words under his breath, nearly smashing into a metal pole. Nonetheless, the glazed ceramic remained trained on the notepad. He was truly a person that could achieve incredible heights with his work ethic. His eyes said so.

His name was unknown to her, yet his eyes have already shown her how vast the world was on the other side of the mountain. Similarly, her name was unknown to him. However, compared to him, her eyes were as enigmatic as her name. One day coffee stained boulders would be reflected by her stoic expression and robotic movements as if part of a mission to achieve then exit. Then another day when a thousand secrets of the constellations were written on her cinnamon-rimmed orbs, endeared with bursts of a newly formed supernova which whimsically swirled around the expanse of its tale.

Reminiscing the first day of his transfer when the GPS on his phone had failed him and he came across an orphanage and saw her come to the aid of a child who fell from a crack on the pavement. Eyes of pureness and sincerity cradled the child as the honey hugged from within, melting the hardened wax. Nonetheless, eyes consisting of a thin mist of rustic amber glistened in all these events blanketing the depths of a murky lake. Eyes as perplex as her being, yet consistent with the passion for efficiency and grace kept him coming back to perhaps unveil new sights of the stars and the other side of the moon.

A knock came at her door early in the morning. Eyes dazed from a long night of preparing for an upcoming exam, she trudged to the door not bothering to check the peephole for any dangerous persons. She’s met with an all too familiar feeling of vastness and warmth of the summer despite the fact that it was nearing the winter season. His eyes gawked in the same astonishment as hers as both stood in the oddly comfortable silence.

“May I help you?” She spoke, breaking the air around them.

“H-hi. Uh, you probably don’t know b-but we go to the same university. We run into each other sometimes.” He started, silently scolding himself for not being able to peel his eyes from hers.

“Oh yeah, I just moved in next door. I-I’m Mark by the way.” He continued, this time successfully avoiding her eyes as it bore through his soul. She shifted from her position and offered her hand and name in greeting. He reciprocated almost immediately, ecstatic about finally discovering the name of his muse for over half a year. Not wanting to break, they remained hands clasped and she’s bounded yet again by fields of sunflowers which are his eyes. Completely losing touch with reality, the following came out almost unintelligible and very possibly regretful for the next few days.

“I think I’ve fallen in love with your eyes about seven times now. And I believe I’m falling in love again.” Her eyes displayed the same whimsical swirl, velvety hues that spilled from its edges complimented the satin tone of her voice.

Silence plagued the scene.

“Um.”

As she’s called back from her own universe, he could slowly see the stars fade and replaced by a look a horror from a tragic mistake. She ripped her hand from his grasp and began to profusely apologize, bowing to the lowest degree she could in which he disrupted with a hearty laughter. She stared in confusion.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’ve been feeling the same way for about half a year now.” She stayed mute, a skeptical glint dusted her eyes.

“I’m serious! Oh yeah I mean to ask you. Do you have a can opener I could borrow?”

I swear the closer finals come, the more I procrastinate. Hope you liked it!

Also, I really didn’t know how to end this so I’ll leave it like this for now.

What should I write next?

-luna

[l-u-n-a-r-i]

seo youngho

Synopsis: She only pursued a scholarship, but left with something more-- beautiful.

photographer!johnny and bestfriend!ten au

“I’m telling you Ten, this competition is the only way I can secure my scholarship for the next year. They’re only giving out two checks, compared to last year’s five so, I have to get that win.” She wails on the phone as she paced on a hillside near the pavement. She had been roaming the park almost every single day for three weeks trying to find something, anything to capture, yet failed in attempts to find a worthy scene for the subject matter. 

“Candid! I mean, come on. Out of all the topics, they had to pick the vaguest and strangely the hardest. Oh, and don’t even get me started with---” As she settled for the downslope, she saw a potential winning picture come into view. Rushing her farewells, she dashed downward and found a spot to catch a once in a lifetime opportunity. 

The shutter clicked, releasing a low hum from the inner workings of the camera. Removing the contraption from her view, she gazed at the endearing sight of a mother helping her young crumble biscuits for the fish to eat. The pond in the middle-ground glistening in green and blueish hues as the background contrasted with warmer oranges and pinks, blending nicely into a spectrum. Truly a picturesque image, and a photo that would guarantee one more year of free university. 

She fished out her phone out of her lavender jacket. “Ten. This is golden.” 

It was finally the day when the two winners’ submissions were posted at the gallery of the department. The girl timidly hauled her weight through the aisles, passing through the photographs of preceding victors. She began to doubt her own submission whilst seeing how admirable the images were. Ten, who had tagged along for “moral support” had resulted in pulling her by the elbow after noticing a gap between them, which formed due to her exponentially decreased walking speed. 

A crowd had formed at the center of the room, indicating the location where the newest additions to the gallery were placed. Both squeezed their way to the front. Two framed prints mounted on a white narrow wall, along with the names of the photographers and their artist statements exhibited under the ceiling spotlights. Her stomach jolted to her throat constricting any words from being formed. As if she even had any. 

“Dude. You’re up there.” Ten stated baffled. 

“I know. I-I don’t know how I did it.” 

“No. I meant, your face is up there.” Indeed it was. Just to the right of her own shot was her clothed in her lavender jacket clutching the camera to her chest, index finger still fixed on the shutter button and the grey strap which threatened to fall off her shoulder. Hair slightly disheveled as wisps of chestnut stuck on her temple tracing the outline of where the droplets of sweat had run down. Eyes ablaze from what seemed to be a recent adrenaline rush, speckles of ochre scattered the iris and complimented that of which dusted her cheeks. Despite the appearance of discord, a soft tug that played on her lips could not go unnoticed. This sentiment propelled the eyes of the audience to see the bokeh of the cherry blossom trees in unity with a dawning sunset. 

Upon seeing it, she was immediately drawn into the portrait. Her feet wandered on its own, pulling her closer to the print. Her eyes flickered to the artist statement:

     “It was when I clicked the button when I realized that amidst her mess, she was a priceless perfection of chaotic beauty. One that I’d keep chasing to capture.” 

     -Seo Youngho

“I believe your name is Y/N?” Towering beside her was a man dressed in an oversized tee and a thin tan parka. A third of his hair fell graciously on top of his eyelid, exposing one side of his face a little better. His eyes remained trained on the portrait before focusing his attention on the shorter female. He proceeded to take out a hand from his pocket and offered it to her. 

“I’m Seo Youngho, but you can call me Johnny.” 

Annnnddd that’s a wrap! I had a lot of fun writing this, though I kept on getting distracted so please excuse some parts that seem detached. 

Have a good one:)

-luna

[l-u-n-a-r-i]

bless you johnny.

jaehyun snapped

[l-u-n-a-r-i]

an au, again

where mark is Taeyong’s son