#My motivation behind this piece is two factors:

[reksink]

Shelter

[jaehaeryshater]

The King Come Over and his bride Ygritte Firekissed

art by : @shripscapi

Edited to add: I was hoping that people that did not like this ship could still appreciate the art as I gave them two separate pieces, but people have been coming into my inbox on all platforms, so let me encourage you to block the Jongritte and Ygritte tags on tumblr or twt, as well as me so you will not have to see it if this is you. I also would encourage you to create your own AU as it is very fun. My AU is based on Jon becoming King before leaving the Freefolk, so following his psychology as a character, Ygritte is his only choice as consort as long as she’s alive. You can make your own with Val if you want, but I do not owe anyone to pay for commissions of their preferred characters.

Look at my King dawg we’re definitely getting through the Wall!!!

For the last month and a half, I have been working closely with Liesl to design concepts for Jon as King Beyond the Wall and Ygritte as his Queen. Personally, I’m not invested at all in Jon becoming King of the Seven Kingdoms despite him being my favorite character. He’s not very connected with the South and I don’t feel that it’s his birth right or anything, even being the son of Rhaegar. I am significantly more interested in him becoming King in the North, but my interest in Freefolk culture has led me to be far more invested in the idea of him rejecting Southron society as a whole and becoming King Beyond the Wall (this isn’t necessarily mutually exclusive to being King in the North later on).

The motivation for Jon becoming King as opposed to Mance stems from a theory that has been around since AGOT has come out: that the Others will only treat with/negotiate with a Stark. In the prologue of AGOT, when the Others are speaking among themselves before killing the Watchmen, what if they were confirming with each other that Waymar Royce was not a Stark and that they could go ahead and kill him? All in all, it doesn’t really matter if this is true, but rather that this is a plausible rumor that could easily have been passed down among the Freefolk which could lead Mance to conclude that Jon as a leader would give the Freefolk the best chance of survival. It’s not very hard, at least in my opinion, to imagine an AU like this, since survival is the most important thing to the Freefolk during the events of ASOIAF. But is it plausible that under these circumstances that Jon would abandon his Night’s Watch vows? I think so if he can be led to believe that only Stark blood could defeat the Others, but that is not the only factor. Jon Snow is insecure about his bastard status, plain and simple. He’s always lived in the shadow of his Robb, though he loved him. He’s wanted Winterfell, though he didn’t want to nor had any intention to take it from Robb. But he’s known since he was a small boy that he could never Winterfell and that would never inherit anything because he was a bastard. Jon also has thoughts, at least in passing, that Ned loved Robb more than him. He perceives Ned as having been more proud of Robb, of looking at him differently than himself. He’s seemingly always believed this, but there is a sort of confirmation of Jon’s feelings when Ned allows him to join the Night’s Watch without much preparation on what the Watch is actually like. Fully me making assumptions here, not something Jon has explicitly thought, but it’s unlikely that Ned would have sent Bran off at 14 to the Watch without much warning of what it was like, had Bran not become paralyzed. While we never get this exact thought process from Jon, in my opinion it fits into his psychology and insecurity. All this to say, if Jon is offered to be a figurehead, King, a title equal to his brother, but without taking anything away from the Starks or from Robb, that would almost certainly scratch that itch in him. It would be of his own merit, and there would be people behind him that don’t care that he’s a bastard, don’t see him as less than, and are willing to accept him for who he is. Not to mention that it also lets him feel like a hero and as if he is saving something far more precious than himself. And it probably doesn’t hurt that he would be able to remain with Ygritte as well.

We know from the descriptions of Mance and Dalla, as well as from being told directly by the former, that the King and his wife dress like all the other Freefolk, in thick furs. While the Jon and Ygritte arts from above are not particularly ostentatious by Southron standards, they are in obvious contrast to how Mance and Dalla are dressed. My idea was that Jon, having lived South of the Wall in a Lord’s keep all of his life, brought his own ideas to the Freefolk and added a distinction between a King and all other men. Nothing like in King’s Landing, all changes are inspired by his experience at Winterfell. I tried to think of what was achievable by the Freefolk, that would be difficult enough that it can’t be easily replicated for everyone else, but also keeping in mind of what could be done relatively quickly seeing as the Freefolk are focused on migrating South and saving themselves from the Others. The cultures I took inspiration for the clothing from are the Byzantines, Russians, Incans, Aztecs, and Mongolians. I wanted more “open” and flowy clothing, as opposed to more closed off and excessively modest clothing of 1300-1500s Europe that most of Westeros is based off of. Ygritte is still wearing furs, but they are dyed and there is weirwood embroidery in symbolism of the Old Gods and flame embroidery to symbolize her being kissed by fire. Her jewelry are simply clay beads that have been powdered blue. I didn’t want to give her any jewels as I felt it would be too difficult for the Freefolk to cut them directly and just overall would be against the spirit of the Freefolk. However, getting the blue on the clay like that still would be expensive and take a lot of time. I tried to keep the main color scheme surrounding gray as obviously that’s House Stark’s color. Jon’s clothes are similarly nice, with my main concern being him looking intimidating. I want the furs around his shoulders to be black because I wanted to call back to his time in the Night’s Watch without him keeping his psychical cloak, because I’m sure the Freefolk would not want him to do that. The furs are massive and make his shoulders look far larger, in an effort to make him look more intimidating, especially on a battlefield or in negotiations. He also has weirwood embroidery and his sigil is on the front of his outfit (my original idea was for him to have a flag with his heraldry on it, in which case the sigil would have looked far different, with a full length direwolf). There’s a white wolf on one side and either a crow or eagle on the other side (up for interpretation, both are relevant to Jon and one is one of the animals that can be used a symbol of the Freefolk) and the flame in the middle to represent Ygritte, but also defeating the Others as fire is the way Jon originally tried combating them as a steward at the Wall. The sigil is more than about Jon, after all, as it’s for the entirety of House Whitewolf, the House he founds. I thought the name fit far more in to Freefolk culture than something like Whitestark or something along those lines. Ygritte was supposed to have sewn on the sigil herself, and was very adamant about it, and that is meant to be why the thread is uneven and more visible than it ought to be. She’s not very good at the craft!

As I indicated before, crowns are not something common to Freefolk. That would be something else Jon would implement. Ygritte’s crown is very much like a hat, very casual. The beads are nice but obtaining them wouldn’t be unheard of, and holly most likely would not be particularly hard to come by. The reason I gave her a crown with holly is that during Christmas in the Tudor period and even before during pagan celebrations, people would go out into the woods and find holly and ivy to decorate their houses with. Holly was a symbol of masculine energy and ivy feminine energy. If you found more holly, it was meant to indicate that the man would rule the household for the year, and if you found more ivy then the woman would rule the household in the coming year (this was a way to “tell the future” not a rule lol). I liked the holly better for Ygritte so I’m just saying the Freefolk had the opposite belief. Jon’s crown is made of weirwood, which was important to me as I feel like his connection the Old Gods is also important as it is something that him and Freefolk both use to guide them. It ties them together. That being said, a weirwood crown is often used for Bran so I did not want to use a design that was too similar to the one used for him. Bran’s weirwood crown usually is made of weirwood branches, however, and not weirwood bark or logs, so I feel like it’s different enough. The frozen weirwood sap, as far as I know, is also unique to this design. There’s also some ivy to parallel with Ygritte’s holly.

The remaining bits and bobs I wanted to explain are the blue rose and then the face paint. The blue rose is obviously something associated with Lyanna Stark, who is widely accepted to be the mother of Jon Snow. I originally wanted to give him a rose somewhere, whether he was holding it or it was in his embroidery, but I forgot to ask during sketching, and then it was too late. But Ygritte holding the blue rose isn’t just about Lyanna. It’s also about Bael the Bard, a most likely fictitious person (or at least, the tale is fictitious, though I personally choose to believe it’s real) that went South of the Wall posing as a bard. He impressed the Lord of Winterfell so much that he granted Bael anything he wished; all Bael asked for was the most beautiful flower in Winterfell. This was granted for him, but the next morning he had stolen the Lord of Winterfell’s only child, a girl, and had left the flower in her bed in her place. He hid in the crypt with her for a year and they had a son together. Bael eventually went back North of the Wall and eventually Winterfell, having no other heir, passed to Bael’s child. Under this story, Jon is descended from Ygritte’s idol (maybe idol is stretching it, but she really likes him), Bael the Bard. Not only him, but all the Freefolk including Ygritte, according to her story. Following the story’s premise, Jon also poses as Bael and Ygritte as Winterfell’s daughter, with Jon joining her home under false pretenses and “stealing her”, as she calls it. So the blue rose has significance regarding both the Starks and the Freefolk. The face paint is inspired by tattooing done by cultures indigenous to North America. Indigenous Americans are not the only groups to use facial tattooing, the Vikings were famous for it as well, but Viking facial tattooing had more patterns based on shapes rather than lines and dots. I didn’t like the shapes so much, but the chin tattoo was one was that observed in all sorts of different cultures. Usually the chin tattoos with the line were on women in indigenous America, but I found some on men in other outside cultures. The dots I didn’t see outside of Native American culture and the claw marks on Jon’s cheeks I found mainly among Vikings. Because these all are an amalgamation of different cultures, we did them as face paint instead of tattoos because it seemed disrespectful otherwise. Not enough research went into it to be a proper representation of any one culture so paint was a better bet than a permanent body modification that is sacred to a number of cultures. The only thing that was meant to be a tattoo was the chin tattoo, which like I said, actually is from an amalgamation of cultures. Among the Freefolk (in this AU), dots on the cheeks are widespread, one of cultural mainstays of their people, and are generally a sign of peace, whereas the claws are meant to look intimidating and is applied to look like blood (Ygritte applies it for Jon) and is specifically used for military leaders. I really wanted to drive home the point that the goal with Jon’s whole look is to look fearsome.

I have so much more to say about Jon as King Beyond the Wall, how he negotiates with the Wall, the different rules he sets in place, how he sets up being King as a hereditary title once his daughter Bael is born, etc etc, but then I’d be here all day and approximately one person total read through all this. Oops! Ask in my inbox if you have any questions because I would love love love to answer them. All in all, shripscapi (Liesl) is so talented and she worked incredibly hard for me. She was extremely accommodating and changed as much stuff as I wanted. She never complained about the million times I decided something was not quite right and she sent me so many updates. I would recommend working with her to just about anybody. It was very cool what she was able to achieve and I got it in time for the holidays so I can enjoy my winter themed pfp on twt. So thank you from the bottom of my heart Liesl, and I hope everyone showers her with compliments because she deserves it. I also hope that people that don’t enjoy Ygritte very much can still appreciate the art and the concept of Jon as King Beyond the Wall. Hopefully I’ve gotten across how much I love and care for these characters to a chronically online degree and nobody accuses me of mischaracterizing them because that would make me!!!! very sad!!!

Bonus Jon with weirwood leaves:

[lawchwan]

the man of my romance book (ace)

summary: just ace giving you the most mind-blowing sex requested: @weasleyjumpeer reader: fem!reader disclaimer: piv, references of stalking, reader wears glasses and reads books, squirting, very rushed, reader is slightly shorter than ace, confusing timeline wtf, references of cunnilingus, Ace is referenced to have a big dick (but nothing's explicit about it because it's about technique, not size), unprotected sex-reader might get pregnant uh oh!, manhandling, dirty talking, references of filming/recording, did i mention that it's lowkey rushed... i'm sorry genre: smut a/n: hi, hello... its been a minute... so i had multiple factors on why i disappeared, one being that i am a busy woman with a job, went through the loss of a dear family member and other factors I don't want to get into. furthermore, i had a draft ready for this, and i accidentally deleted it, which led to me losing my shit and motivation. but here i am rn, and i hope i don't disappoint thanks to my hiatus. I do sincerely apologize, however, to keep you waiting for three—almost four months. i hope you enjoy this piece :)

crossposted on ao3

The night bloomed with the moon's gleaming essence shining through the room as it highlighted the discarded clothes thrown due to the immense desperation and lust shared by the two individuals who had known each other not too long, yet not too short.

Ace has had his eyes on you for so long, his friends and crew were just mere muffled background sounds, as you were sat across his with a book laid in front of you on the other side of the cafe. His gaze juxtaposes admiration and lust, with your figure, your hair, your perfect skin, and your facial expressions when the little words on the stack of papers cause you to react subtly, he has been examining you.

Unbeknownst to him, you did catch up to his examination and tried your best to keep your attention away from him. But how could you? You would be lying if you said he wasn't candy to your eyes. Shirtless with tattoos painted all over his body, cowboy hat that concealed the greasy top of his long curly hair, manspreading with his arms splayed across the booth seat behind him and his crew, freckles that can be seen from afar that speckled across his face; he was the embodiment of the protagonist you would read in your dark romance.

His crew set sail on your island for a while and you would see him frequently, wherever you went, it was guaranteed that he'd be there, almost as if he was intentionally stalking you and knew where you were going.

Still, though, you kept your eyes on your book, not giving him the satisfaction of providing him the attention he sought and instead hoping he could grow the courage to come over and ask for a date, or a good fuck.

Ace suddenly stood up, eyes still glued to you, causing his crew to look up at him curiously, as he moved out of his seat and walked over to you, almost like you've entranced him to come over without looking at him.

You sensed a tall presence looming in front of you, resulting you in getting out of the reading world and going back to reality to meet with the fine man standing in front of him. You two held eye contact, almost like you’ve unintentionally entered a staring contest, waiting for one of you to speak. Ace gaped his mouth, wanting to say something but his voice failed him as it cracked, making him clear his throat and scratch his neck, his flustered pink tones radiated up to the surface of his tan skin. You began laughing as you covered your mouth, making Ace’s skin crawl in embarrassment.

“God dammit, I fucked up,” Ace thought to himself, nerves getting the best of him. He should have walked away and faced the music of mockery from his crew, but what he didn’t expect was you extending your hand, signaling him to sit while you pushed the seat away with your foot.

Ace looked down at the chair and then back at you, bemused like a dog getting a new command from its owner, before sitting down while you simply closed the book and put it in your bookbag. You smiled at him as Ace nervously tried to recollect himself.

“Sorry, I am not usually one to stumble on my words… or go through a second puberty,” He muttered the last sentence, in an attempt to make it incoherent for you, yet you heard him loud and clear, making you chuckle in response.

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, besides, I think that voice crack was adorable,” You teased, making Ace scoff back at you. You got closer, placing your arms on the table, extending your arm for a handshake, making Ace look down at the hand then back up at your beautiful yet alluring smile.

“I’m (Y/N)”

The curly-haired pirate reached out and shook your hand back, mirroring your grin.

“I’m Ace, but I guess you know that already, since y’know…” He shifted his eyes and cocked his head, which you nodded back as you scrunched your face with a smile as you found him endearing right then and there, pirate or no pirate, he was adorable.

—

Adorable.

Time passed and you once thought he was adorable, and he was, but you assumed he was a nervous wreck with a deceiving look. You certainly didn’t mind breaking his shell, but he certainly exceeded your expectations when he slowly leaned in to kiss you when he wanted to drop you off from your guys’ date. You were astonished by how good his lips were on yours, for a nervous fellow, he sure kisses like he isn’t. When he pulled away, your lips were chasing after his, causing him to smirk as he held your chin firmly, almost like he caught you underestimating him.

“I can do more if you want to, but I’ll save it for another time…” He husked his voice, as he teasingly leaned in, running his thumb across your bottom lips before he leaned back and walked away backward.

“Good night, babe,” His departure almost felt like a mixture of goading yet exhilarating anticipation of what’s to come the next time you see him.

He might be the death of you.

—

Some more time has passed and the term “adorable” is not a word you would give at the moment when he has you wrapping your legs around his hips as he carries you to your bedroom with his lips attached to yours with sheer fervor. As soon as you mentioned that you lived alone, Ace jumped at the opportunity to get closer to you however he wanted. It was a risky move from your end, letting know a man you knew.

He has you where he wanted you to be as you are to his. You gripped the back of his neck and tugged on the hairs revealed from his cowboy hat. With the feverish atmosphere, his hat was tipped back to his back as he pushed you onto a wall and began his attack on your neck. You gasped a beautiful sound that Ace intentionally tried to extract as he nipped on the sweet spot by your neck, making you throw your head back as you began to let out breathy moans.

Ace pulled back and looked down at you, his freckled face was flushed with desire while his eyes had lust and plead shown between his bangs as he pants.

“Where’s your bedroom?” Ace whispered, lips still close to yours and his thirst was quenching the more he looked at you in your most lustful state. You told him where it was through your huffed tone and he didn’t hesitate to carry you into the bedroom before he threw you into the bed with such strength.

He carried you and threw you onto the mattress like you weighed nothing—it seemed as though his muscular physique was not for show after all. You were astonished by his roughhousing, yet he left you no room to react as he pinned you down onto the bed, his large hands encapsulating your wrists with his lips remaining attached to your lips. Your breaths were shaken with anticipation as his lips began their exploration across your soft skin. He tongued from your jaw down to your collarbone, while his calloused fingers reached for the hem of your shirt and began lifting it to expose any skin. With your shirt out of the way, his lips began attacking your body again, this time he began grazing his teeth around the soft skin of your breasts, just above your bra line. You arched your back to allow room for him to reach around and remove your bralette, only for him to pull away, hold onto the fabric, and begin ripping it from the center, leaving the piece ripped in half. You gasped at the sudden motion while he just groaned at the sight of you sprawled half-naked with eyes wide and blown with desire.

“Oh, fuck, baby…” He growled, before reaching down again and began open mouth kissing your supple breasts, making you whine at the exhilarating sensation of his warm mouth around your nipple.

“Ace…~” You breathed with hooded eyes as Ace roamed lower with his hands following along, goosebumps arising from your skin.  Ace didn’t respond immediately instead he just smirked looking up at you teasingly as he nipped at your mound.

“Hold on, baby… we’ll be here all night, I just want to give this sweet…” Ace paused looking down at your breasts again and began kissing the side of it and massaging it before leaning onto the other breasts to give it the same attention, “Breasts of yours some love… you’ll let me right?”

—

And some love your breast was given by him, and he meant it.

And many more, as time passed and Ace showed no sign of stopping. His gapped and moaning mouth was covered with nothing but your sweet nectar while his rough hands were gripping your hips as he was thrusting into you at such a pace no man could maintain. His hair fell forward while his necklace swayed along with the beat of his thrusts. Your legs spread as you began screaming out his name while the tip hit a pleasurable spot you never thought existed, a promise that Ace had mentioned while he was getting ready to eat you out.

“I’ll make sure your neighbors know of me as the guy who fucks you good instead of a criminal, no good pirate,” he chuckles darkly as he placed himself between your legs, face inches away from your glistening pussy, “I know you like that shit, I know girls like you would love to be fucked by pirates who do nothing but wreak havoc, am I right, pretty girl? Tell me I’m right because I know I am…”

And Ace maintained that promise as you attempted to cover your face with a pillow due to the volume you were producing thanks to Ace’s rough yet pleasurable thrusts, only for him to chuck the pillow across the room with such aggression and grounds your wrist onto the mattress, leaving you no room to wiggle yourself away.

“No, no, baby, I need to hear you, I need to hear you become a mess for me.” Ace gritted his teeth as he groaned out strings of curse words while you were calling out his name like a prayer.

“Oo~ Ace~ Fuck yes!” You whimpered as the heated sensation was enflaming your insides—a funny correlation with having fire fist Ace ramming his hard cock into your pussy. A pussy that craved nothing but a specific type of pleasure that only a man like Ace can achieve, a one-of-a-kind man, and Ace knew of that and he relishes the fact that your body craves him and him only.

Even though you two don’t know each other for long, you gave him a sense of confidence no girl ever gave him. He knows he’s a good lover, but you made him a lover that a pornstar would envy to have. Especially with how you were writhing underneath him, whimpering out begs and his name.

Ace…

Ace…

Oo fuck me, Ace~

Sounds like he would love to have recorded, it’s a shame he left his den den mushi somewhere in the apartment and a camera back on the ship, he would have used it to his advantage.

The sounds of squelching skin-to-skin sounds, dubbed with your combined moans of pleasure were music to Ace’s ears, especially with how you were approaching your orgasm.

“I’m—fuck—I’m coming!” You whined out as your moans started to border onto panting, making Ace hit a deeper spot as he tried to keep with your pace. He nodded with a smirk as he panted out, “Same here, baby… come on, come for me and I’ll come for you…”

And with those words, you arched your back as Ace sent you to a space where you could only see white with how you rolled your eyes, thanks to the overwhelming pleasure he had put you through. Ace nearly fell on top of you as he landed on your shoulder, biting onto it as he came inside of you. After the two of you began catching your breaths, Ace pulled away to look at you before he placed his forehead and gave you strings of passionate kisses.

He pulled away, not after you bit his bottom lip to bring him back close to you, making him chuckle. You smiled up at him shyly as he just looked at you with such glamor and adoration.

“Wow… no one has ever fucked me like this…” You whispered, making Ace snort out a laugh as he shook his head, “You thought it was over?” Ace responded with a menacing smile on his face.

You widened your eyes, he fucked you this good, and there’s still more?

Your shock state unsettled Ace, his smirk dropped due to the lack of response, “unless you want us to stop—”

“No!” You exclaimed, making Ace flinch and you tight-lipped your mouth shut after you made a fool of yourself. Thankfully, Ace only chuckled and kissed your lips, the intention undetected yet the ardent intensity was present.

“You’re so cute,” Ace comments after pulling away from the kiss. He pulls himself up, only to look down at the scenery below him with a gasped delight. Your eyes followed his, and there you saw was a puddle of your essence staining your bedsheet, mixing with Ace’s pearly cum that fell out your pollen.

You gasped as you felt a rush of embarrassment coursing through you, yet you oddly had no sense of shame in your system. You looked up at Ace, shyly, hoping he doesn’t give you a reason to feel otherwise. Thankfully he leaned in again with another feverish kiss, before pulling back with a smirk, lips barely touching.

“Want us to create more of a mess in the shower? The floor? Or more on the bed? Anything you want, baby, because I’m not done…”

And you hoped it wouldn’t end anytime soon…

characters are owned by oda. i will not tolerate nor accept translation, reposts on other websites, or plagiarism. divider made by mmadeinheavenn.

[that-left-turn]

It seems to me like norman was vocally pro caryl around season 2/3 and then became vocally anti caryl after Melissa won her Saturn awards for seasons 4 and 5 and became a main cast member.. and then became vocally pro caryl again after she got paired with ezekiel.. and then he's anti caryl after they break up and has been ever since - even more so now that he's got "his own show".

Do we have any good idea of who was behind the leah story and the connie shipbait? Even though they used both to give caryl parallels, those seem like the main obstructions in season 10 for driving caryl forward. I wasn't actively shipping them then, but I felt the show was starting to push caryl towards canon, but then when leah popped up, I was like 'oh... ok??? I guess I was wrong then, stupid me'. As for connie, I thought it was to show "it's not like that", but it was never made fully clear. I wonder what the motivations were really behind introducing those two characters as ships for daryl.

BASICS

Each character arc and the emotional arcs which involve one or more characters are laid out in pre-production, so the season is fully plotted before any scripts are written. There are zero surprises in screenwriting: each episode has a treatment, which details every scene and that's the basis used for writing the screenplay. The individual episode writers have no freedom to deviate from the plot, so it's very different from writing a novel or fanfic.

LEAH

The Leah arc was supposed to further Caryl's emotional arc, but a lot of plotlines were dropped or shortchanged in S11 because of things going on BTS. S9-10 were very deliberate and intricately plotted with a myriad of little beats throughout the seasons which were supposed to lead to a bigger picture reveal in S11, like how Daryl's facial scar factored into Caryl's relationship. If the showrunner is a good plotter, the groundwork for seasons to come is laid early, giving the audience plenty of puzzle pieces.

Unfortunately, Leah's arc was both stunted and misappropriated into a Maggie revenge plot which had zero payoff because viewers had no emotional investment in her entourage of redshirts. We don't know exactly how the Leah arc would've played out if the original vision had been followed, but it's clear from the pieces we do have that it would've led to Caryl canon so no, you weren't wrong or stupid. Leah was intended to be a foil for Carol and a catalyst for Caryl. I'm unsure of how sound this particular plot twist was, considering how easily something like that can get ruined when dealing with recalcitrant execs, but Kang is a detail-oriented writer, so as a viewer, I was willing to make a leap of faith with her.

SHIPBAIT

As for Connie, my guesstimate based on productions I've worked on, is that the network wanted to tease the possibility of 'something' to draw a larger share and to drag out the will-they-won't-they for Caryl (which doesn't work in today's TV). Sometimes, showrunners get notes where they have to make the best out of a situation they disagree with and Connie was never intended to be anything other than shipbait. The showrunner did her best to incorporate the studio notes into a storyline which would service the emotional arc she was actually trying to tell: Caryl thinking they aren't good enough or deserving of each other.

A good writer doesn't want to manipulate the audience. It's dishonest storytelling and it's not how you sustain and grow your viewership. You have to give clues along the way that will reward observant fans, even though the narrator might be unreliable. It's about building momentum and anticipation. If you do, a lot of the marketing will be self-driving at that point because of fan engagement.

If the Leah storyline hadn't gotten diverted, the use of Connie as a plot device in Carol's emotional arc would have been made clear. We never got any resolution to her self-loathing or the conflict between her and Daryl, and that's why there are still so many question marks surrounding the connection these two characters had to Daryl.

AUDIENCE RECEPTION

AMC has always wanted to sell the show to absolutely everyone and as long as there's a large ensemble cast, that might work to some degree, but it's not a long-term plan for sustained viewership and when the show is skimmed down to a handful of characters with the focus on two leads, it's no longer viable. The core emotional drive has to be the relationship between those two characters, no matter the nature of said relationship or whatever the external plot might be.

TBOC did everything to diminish and downplay Caryl's ties to each other and that was the biggest failing of the show. The hokey cult with its underdeveloped messianic plot and the fudged pseudoscience of the super walkers would've been forgiven and forgotten if Zabel had nailed the central message the season started out with, 'to find home is to find each other.' You don't need to be an amazing writer to write a show that people will enjoy, but you do have to respect your audience for them to stick with you in the long run.

[beebopboom]

ok. ok. ok. i’ve sat with it, processed, went to bed, woke up at 5am fiending for water, couldn’t go back to sleep and processed some more. Starting writing this and then had to go to work and now i’m back.

(skip this section if you just want my very limited 90min predictions for rn and not my rant lol)

i’ve been disappointed, sad, angry and just so tired.

and yet i think ive hit some form of acceptance. Don’t get me wrong I will mourn what six episodes would have gave us, even 90 minutes is shorter than most movies now days, but at least it’s something. That it doesn’t end with them not talking and a single angst filled kiss goodbye.

and it sucks to even say that because with so much queer media that seems to be the conclusion, “at least we get something.” That’s the reality we live in and it sucks that it has touched good omens.

Amazon was going to cancel, no way around it, and while it would have sucked I would not have blamed them (ok I would have a bit.) What happened with Neil is serious and there should be consequences. As much as I love this world and how much it has helped me, real people come first. He was such a huge name behind the show and a large part of the production process, that I would not have been surprised if they pulled the plug completely.

But they didn’t. We had so many people working behind the scenes to convince them to continue terry’s story because of their love of the story and because they know of our love the story. And for that I am thankful.

(also i’m pretty sure they kept the set pieces around this time instead of destroying them so that probably helped in green lighting something, yknow on the money side of this)

I’ve been through a devastating end season kiss that then didn’t get renewed before with aloto, which was also produced by amazon and they do not give a fuck. They were not lying when they said it was a miracle to get this renewed.

Which let’s talk about aloto, or a league of their own, real quick. Yknow do some comparisons even if it’s in reverse. This went from a little over two hour movie into an 8 episode series. And guess what it worked even if people had their doubts.

The movie version is a classic in its own right, I feel like everyone at least knows of it maybe can even quote some of the more iconic lines. It’s amazing and has a good story line. The TV show probably never would have went through without the backing of this movie.

and yes with the TV show they were able to go more in depth with the characters storylines, that’s just TV and that’s specifically the idea they went into filming with, to show the queer side of history within this girls baseball league, less about the actual baseball that the movie more focused on. They even pulled in Maybelle Blair, a former all American girls baseball league player, who helped tell the story of the show through her own experiences. (ok sorry for the rant, moving on)

but the movie (especially for the time period) had well rounded female characters with nuisances that we had never seen before on screen.

and before it even gets pointed out that aloto needed a s2 to finish their story I just to point out that even though it was a different story with different character arcs, both ended after one baseball season with the girls. Fully fleshed out characters with backstories and futures and a satisfying plot to match. It really was just the shock factor of their kiss being discovered right at the end that pushed their story to continue.

and yknow if numbers help you visualize more,

120min=8eps and 6eps=90min

feels proportional, idk if it is exactly cause this particular section was never my strong suit in math and i’m still tired lol

My point is for the most part, besides like a catch up in time between s2 and this movie, this 90min time frame is not going to have to squeeze in time to introduce characters and their motivations like we are used to with movies, besides if they introduce new characters which I don’t imagine would have been a lot anyways.

We have 2 seasons of backstory and plot. This is doable, even if may not be quite as elaborate as we were expecting.

Just like what we went through with the Owl House who also had a shorter air time than projected. S2 of the Owl House ended on a cliffhanger and even with the shortened time the ending was still well thought out, compelling and was able to be pulled off, very successfully.

We did not lose set designers or costume designers. Those important people behind the scenes that actually bring the world to life (as far as I know) are still there. And of course we did not loose our beloved actors that actually bring the characters to life.

and as for the new writer, we are at the end of October and they are still set to start filming in January, they are not writing completely new scripts in two months. They are reconceptualizing the already written scripts into a shorter form and editing where it is needed, perhaps adding scenes that better fit this form of media to help the narrative flow. They are also, I am sure, are getting help from the people who fought so hard to kept this thing running, if they even need it tbh. If they were trusted enough to get the script in their hands by the people who fought so hard to continue, then I guess I can give them a bit of my trust too.

So while the unknown is scary the community is strong both behind the scenes and in the fandom, I have faith, even if may not tie up every single loose end that I doubt a full s3 would have accomplished anyways, that their story will get told and will have a satisfying ending. Maybe with less trolls now too (because let’s be honest that’s what the kiss was).

And! think of all the fan made projects and fanfiction that could come out of all this. Cause really it’s always been the fandom that’s been the true heart and soul.

(ok rant now over)

and prediction time!!

a cold open, preferably something with Crowley’s Fall. I don’t see them moving to far away from this idea tbh.

a title screen, not sequence. i HOPE peter anderson studio still works with this project after everything. I think they will end up giving this movie a subtitle and they will work something out here that is short and sweet.

Now for the actual plot I’ll theorize about another day because I realized I haven’t really done that yet??? and that deserves its own proper post. oops

but ☝️ i have a few ideas of the set up,

the pacing will be a lot more like s1 than s2, which I was already anticipating and might even work out better in long form media.

there will still be minisodes, probably not as many and will probably be more incorporated like s2 where it had a direct correlation with the plot.

number of storylines may be reduced, GO is normally set up with 3 stories that all meet at a single point finale point. I would not be surprised if it was cut down to 2 main storylines, us vs them kinda thing, that will still really work out well.

all our beloved wacky easter eggs will still be there, a lot of those were references to Terry so I don’t see those going anywhere anytime soon.

south downs is still a go, i also don’t see them getting rid of this at all. It was always the goal. Give them some goddamn peace and quiet.

the end credits, this is where Peter Andersen studios could pop off again but the important bit is….

end credit scene!!!! really this is just something I would like to happen and it’d be really cool if it was the actual actors, hell throw in the whole crew, just as a little send off.

ok wow I thought I had more…um obviously this could be all bullshit but I feel pretty good about it.

but really all this to say that to just breathe, experience your emotions as they are all we got right now. We got an answer, finally, so no more waiting in the unknown. 🫶

[badsalmonella]

SGATGK getting 'er done.👍

TLDR: some neato historical/fantasy drawing references, I like character design would be neat if someone paid me to do that someday, I have to trick myself into being motivated to finish anything like one tricks a dog into taking their meds by putting it in the wet food, tales passed down for centuries are cool.

Why did I do this? : Because I'm obsessed with art books and design bibles and it's what made me want to study animation in the first place. Portfolio pieces like this, this and this were always something I wanted to do, I think they are so inspiring.

Unfortunately you like have to put in a lot of effort to get something like this done, and as I have learned from a semi-failed attempt to do this with Hadestown it is very easy to get too precious about the art and restart 80 times and essentially never get anything done. I'm out here chanting "finished not perfect" to myself in the mirror like a mantra maybe one day it will seep into my bones and I will fully embrace it. Full disclosure, one of the circumstances that led to me actually finishing this is that I have way too much free time on my hands atm, like I don't think I would have gotten this done (or gotten it done in a timely manner) if I was also balancing full time work, but I was tryinggg to squeeze some lemons out of a less than ideal situation. Second thing, on top of trying to do this for 4 years with Hadestown, I alsooo initially tried to do this with the musical Camelot/ the Arthur/Lancelot/Guinevere love triangle part of the Arthurian legends but found I was once again too obsessed with the thing, and getting too precious about the art to get anything substantial done. I did get these Guinevere runaway bride drawings done though. Phillipa Soo high cheekbones Guinevere will always be important to me!!

So I switched gears and chose an Arthurian legend I liked well enough, but not so much I would sike myself out of getting it done and went with Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. It's also a story that adheres to a pretty traditional fable structure. A young guy goes on a quest, he experiences trials in threes, he comes back a little changed having learned a life lesson, etc. Also designing The Green Knight comes with a fun 'cool' factor that I like. The Arthurian discord server run by queer-ragnelle on tumblr is full of really nice, and wayyyy more knowledgeable people who pointed me in the direction of Simon Armitage's translations of the poem so that's what I read to get started. Another great resource I liked was Queer as Fact's podcast episode on the story. Something that I found really interesting was that they discussed Gawain's kissing game with the Bertilak's being something that brought on both queer positive and queerness as a sort of cautionary tale that was encouraged to be turned away from interpretations*. Interesting that you could take away two opposite readings from the same text, but also really framed the experience of staying with the Bertilaks as something that is otherworldly and treading into unknown territory for Gawain.

*I wanna add that 1. just because I acknowledge the two conflicting interpretations doesn't mean that I think one cancels out the other's validity 2. Just because I acknowledge it doesn't mean that it's one that I like or agree with. Obviously these stories are so old we can't ask the author what intent they were writing with so we'll never get 'the right answer', all we really have is interpretation. So like why not interpret something positive out of it, especially if you can back it up with the text.

I got pretty tired of using Google images for research, and actually went to the library for most of my drawing reference. This was also good because it got me out of the house yay! It made me feel like those movie behind the scenes featurettes I love, where people go on their little research trips, like OoooO I'm making the fake movie in my brain!! I unfortunately never wrote down the titles of these books I was using but there were some great illustrated book of clothing worn throughout history. I wanted to keep Gawain, and the design of Camelot fairly close to something historical.

I loved this book especially because all the art was so colourful. I think a lot of people have this idea that medieval costuming should be dull/dark colours but I definitely didn't want to go in that direction. I love bright colours!

I really took inspiration from this illustration I found for Gawain, even though people typically associate medieval knights with full plate armour, in the story Gawain is going on a lengthy journey to find the green chapel, then accept his beheading so I actually felt something lighter like this chainmail outfit with robe on top was the way to go to make him feel mobile. Also Gawain really lays on the self deprecating sauce thick when he volunteers himself up to participate in the Green Knight's game, claiming he is of no great importance, he's just a little guy, it's not a big risk if he gets hurt. (that's not a direct quote. That just the vibe) So I also snuck in the small detail that his clothing is a little oversized, not quite arranged straight, but he grows into it by the end of the tale :3

I also used designing Gawain as the chance to lock down what artstyle I wanted to move forward with. My brain told me 'oohhh storybook!' but go into a bookstore and give it a peruse and you will quickly find there is a wide array of storybook artstyles. So that was not specific enough. I tried simplifying my art style, I liked Cartoon Saloon's stuff (good catch everyone who commented on it's influence in the post's tags) but felt it was a little too simplified and stylized for what I wanted to do. The big lightbulb moment for me was when I found this art by an-old-lady on tumblr. I really like how this artist's work is pretty stylized but sticks close to recognizable human proportions. So I put this one my inspiration board, while still trying to keep it distinctly mine. not really my call to say if I succeeded at this or not lol

But yes Cartoon Saloon's influence is still there, especially with backgrounds,

and I also really loved looking towards the art of Sleeping Beauty. Really amazing use of colour in this art, also the way they simplify nature into easy to read shapes, then pack in all the detail there is something I loved.

me doing my best to harness that Disney concept art power

(Side note one books I can name from all this research is this one because I would like to own it some day. Fantastic resource for not only showing the classic art and architecture they are taking reference from, but how you can apply that to something a lot more cartoony and simplified. Seriously the side by side comparisons of medieval book artwork next to their Sleeping Beauty storybook scenes are masterclass mwah)

From there something I really wanted to drive home was this contrast between Gawain's world and Lord Bertilak/Green Knight's world. The Green Knight comes with lengthy descriptions about his odd (but hot *wink*) appearance, and there is definitely an aura that something unknown has entered King Arthur's court. While I tried to find inspiration for Gawain's armour from old artwork, Green Knight's outfit I was looking more to fantasy influences like Lord of the Rings, House of the Dragon, Renaissance Faire costumes, etc.

When you look up medieval fashion you get a lot of reference for these crazy cool headpieces

Lots of head coverings too for women (lots of it done for modesty reasons. Also a little bit for hygiene reasons) so I kept that consistent with the women of Camelot

Also even though a lot of medieval media associates the revealed shoulders and the sleeves with interesting cutouts with woman's fashion at the time, a lot of actual historical imagery I was finding has a full coverage layer underneath known as the kirtle (mostly for hygiene purposes......though I'm sure modesty is also a factor)

( Alicent where is your underlayer?? Cringe.)

But for Lady Bertilak I went full medieval fantasy and whipped out those sleeves that I always associate with princesses and gave her long flowing hair. Also interestingly I remember the story once emphasising her ~flirtatiously~ revealed shoulders. I wonder if that was a fashion choice still made back then, or if this is fantasy detailing, sort of like how the trash doctor drama TV show Doctor Odyssey will have doctors doing work on patients in full cocktail party attire a decision that is not based on any sort of reality but maybe hundreds of years from now if the media is preserved humans might assume that was how the doctors of our day dressed. HM!

Lord Bertilak actually gave me a hard time with his look. I went in really only knowing I wanted to give him that Hozier inspired bun hairstyle. My reasoning being that like Lord Bertilak loves going hunting he's a kind of man of the woods.....but he's also supposed to be this hot Lord who is making Gawain question if he wants to join a very unchristian open marriage and when I think of man of the woods but make it glam I think of this dude

but other than that I had no ideas on how to approach this 'same shape as the Green Knight but make him more warm and approachable' look I was trying to achieve, so I just made lots of sketches that got trashed pretty quickly. Also at the time I didn't know what colour scheme I wanted for these two yet, only that I wanted green as an accent colour to hint at his true identity (also because plot relevant green girdle) but not the MAIN COLOUR of their colour scheme. So anyways that's how you get this funny drawing of Lord Bertilak looking very Curious George's Yellow Guy vibes.

Then it hit me in the most unexpected of places....

You're probably wondering "hey there is literally a fantasy historical King Arthur musical you are OBSESSED WITH why are you not turning to that for inspiration?" or maybe "why would you reference House of the Dragon earlier but not the much more famous Game of Thrones?" and the answer there is as cool as those costumes are they are taking a LOT of inspiration from modern runway fashion and that just wasn't the vibe I was looking for. But then one day as I played the Camelot bootleg as comfort background noise (normal behaviour) I found inspiration from THE UNDERRATED FASHION ICON SIR PELLINORE!

I just really loved the long sleeveless drapery situation he had going on. I added the fur along the neckline for Lord Bertie though to make him more top heavy (like his Green Knight counterpart) and as a nod to hunting. but yes big props to Pellinore. ty king!

The contrasting shape language I used in the character design then informed all the extra prop details surrounding these characters.

But to keep things consistent I tried to keep some similar design principles for costumes. They like drapery. They like big sleeve moments. Bold colours. Girdles to break up dress forms. Tunics that generally fall close to knees in length.

I think the coolest bit of research I did was I visited a church in my city and got some good pictures as reference for the green chapel. In the poem the green chapel really ends up being a grass mound but that's not really an impressive drawing to put in your portfolio so I got the idea to have a chapel so old that nature has overtaken it and there's a structure in this hill. The church is open to just look through for free without attending a mass, it's a bit of a tourist destination for good reason it's really well kept, I'd been telling myself to go check it out for years of living here now but this project was what got me to finally do it.

I sketched some random object in there (this can be helpful even if you don't draw these things in your actual project just because it fills up your design bank in your brain) I also wish I took this picture but they had what looked like one of those office water coolers but it was labelled 'Holy Water' and I just thought that was funny. Sorry just wanted to share.

and I am HORRIBLE at drawing backgrounds, I really hate doing it, I find placing the horizon line/ vanishing points incredibly hard to do, so if you are like me but you wanna push yourself TAKE YOUR OWN PICTURES OF PLACES. AND TRACE OVER THEM. THEN ADD WHATEVER CHANGES NEEDED. IT'S NOT CHEATING I PROMISE. YOU CAN LITERALLY DO ANYTHING YOU WANT EVER IT IS NOT THE SAME AS PLAGIARIZING OR TRACING ANOTHER PERSON'S ART AND IT WILL SAVE YOU HEARTACHE. HIGHLY RECOMMEND.

Anyways this has been my incredibly long advertisement for your local library, your local tourist spots, cool art books, cool cartoons, The Green Knight poem, the kirtle, to try your best to make the art you wanna make because it will fill your heart with joy. Don't be precious about your art in a design project, just sketch like your life is ending in the next couple of hours, it's cool if you draw something like this

There's definitely stuff I wish I had drawn, more props, something more to indicate Lord Bertilak's hunts (I also suck at drawing animals oop) and maybe those things will be drawn in the future, but I am happy to call this done for the time being :)

Did you get this far? Well thanks. ilu 🫶🏼

[gay-mafia-stickball]

I have mixed feelings about the red white and royal blue movie (red white and royal bluevie, if you will).

let me preface this by saying two things: one, you are entitled to your opinion and so am I so civil discourse is welcome, but hate speech is not, and two, I am a firm believer that book vs movie argument is pointless as long as you enjoy the media, so take the following with a grain of salt. I enjoyed the movie a lot, and if you don’t want to see anything negative, you can scroll past this, but these were things that caught my eye. that all being said, here are my thoughts.

first things first: the change from Raphael Luna to Miguel Ramos felt like it detracted from the story. in the rwrb book, the Alex looks up to Luna and considers him an ally and a role model in the political field, seeing him as a goal to shoot for. this makes his betrayal (working on richards campaign) hurt a lot worse, and it makes his subsequent redemption (him bringing up dirt on richards that not only effected him as a queer man but as a politician) feel a like a big triumph and a loose end that has been tied up. Alex’s relationship with Ramos is already a different kind of relationship, since Alex wants to be a politician, not a journalist, and their connection feels a lot less secure since their only tie is that they’re friends who have hooked up, so when he starts to publish aggressive and harmful stories toward Alex, it feels less like a betrayal and more like pettiness over being rejected. this is only reinforced by the fact that he isn’t given any redemption, and his loose end remains untied and without closure. Lunas story is, in my opinion, just as much a part of the main plot as Alex and Henry’s, because he reflects the struggles of older queer generations fighting the good fight behind enemy lines and the thankless battle that a lot of younger people take for granted. without Luna, President Claremont’s win feels more arbitrary, and a lot of the stress that motivates Alex and his character development as a person and as a politician is flattened.

another thing id love to address is the so called “side characters”- pez, bea, nora, and june. starting with pez, who is meant to be Henry’s best friend and lifeline: he got barely five minutes of screen time, and it felt like he was sidelined as unimportant and a supporting cast member instead of an actually important member of the group. Bea as well was sidelined, and kind of pushed into the role pez had in the books. by ignoring Beas history with substance abuse and her moniker of “powder Princess”, it takes away from her depth as a character and the struggles her and her family have gone through, not even mentioning the fact that their mother isn’t even in the movie. the same thing is true with the lack of Alex’s parents divorce; the trauma from that event led to a lot of important character development and growth, as well as some pretty important plot points (such as the first phone call). Nora and June I can do in one fell swoop: they should not have been combined into one character. they both played different and significant roles in Alex’s life, June as a steadying factor and a shoulder to lean on, and Nora as an experienced confidant that unwinds Alex and allows him to live a little. not only did the combination of their characters take away a healthy polyamorous relationship with pez, but it took away a big piece of Alex’s support system and the factors to a lot of his character growth.

a final thing that I’ll mention in this post is specifically about Alex- sorry, I can’t help it, I love him so much 😭 I just feel like the decision not to focus more on his work life and his personal life was poorly made. the movie did a phenomenal job of outlining Henry’s stressors and backstory and of course I’m so glad that he was given the closure and attention he needed (though I’m a little pissy that his mother wasn’t involved), but without mentioning Alex’s admittedly shitty work-life-balance and his stress as a newly discovered queer biracial politician and the stress from his parents (apparently nonexistent) divorce, the relationship feels toxic and a little one-sided. im not here to throw any pity parties for any characters, but all of the previously mentioned factors, among others, play into Alex’s decision to go to law school and start taking his time with his life, and the fact that that wasn’t even mentioned put Henry and Alex into a position where Alex seems unreasonable and insensitive while Henry is the only one with a good, albeit traumatized head on his shoulders.

like I said, these are just my opinions, and obviously I like the show a lot, though maybe more as a romantic comedy than a true adaptation of rwrb, so if you have thoughts to share, I’d love to see them! be kind and gracious and don’t start stupid fights over book accuracy, I don’t care that there were no monogrammed kimonos or that a different song played in the museum ❤️

[skaruresonic]

"Lanolin is interesting because even the sonic series needs moments of negativity every now and then"

Somehow I don't consider the equivalent of an overly bossy store manager to be more emotionally moving than when an entire tribe got wiped out by their god

Lanolin doesn't add anything new. She's just annoying.

You know the character is unpleasant when you love kuuderes and assholes and even you don't want to be an apologist for them lol.

Apologies for the Half-Life talk - how people claim Lanolin is disrespected on the basis of gender reminds me of how Judith Mossman is actually sidelined and disrespected on the basis of her gender. Not only within fandom, but within certain parts of canon too.

Mossman is another strait-laced, uppity mom friend character. She, like Lanolin, has few quirks to speak of. The only thing we know about her background is that she lost a job to Gordon Freeman and likely resents him for it even 20 years later.

Few HL players actually like Mossman and care to examine their reasons for why. It's pretty much a reflex for most players to dislike her, often upon the very moment of meeting her for the first time.

While some of this dislike can be chalked up to Mossman deliberately emitting two-faced vibes, it can't all be attributed to just that. Otherwise you'd have people glibly writing "let's pop a cap in Breen's ass" fics as well. Her gender does factor in.

Mossman frequently rubs people the wrong way. If you pressed them on why, they'd probably say it's because she's duplicitous and hides her real emotions behind a fake smile (much like Lanolin's "plastic smile"), but here's where the double standards emerge. While Mossman occupies roughly the same roles as Barney Calhoun and Dr. Breen, neither Breen nor Barney are nearly as maligned as Judith. Which begs questions of why.

Dr. Breen is so two-faced that it's laughable, and he doesn't receive half as much disregard as she does. Probably the difference is that Breen is eloquent and someone you love to hate while you listen to him bluster on about nothing, so we give him a pass.

Honestly, I suspect that the likeliest explanation is that Mossman reminds people of an evil stepmother archetype. Some authority figure who spoils your fun through strict adherence to rules. That one teacher in childhood that used to piss you off by being so uptight. They're not really looking at her so much as whatever mental proxy she stands for.

It doesn't help that she's the "no fun allowed" guy, literally telling Alyx "the zero-point energy field manipulator is not a toy." And since we're inclined to befriend Alyx, we're inclined to dislike whoever she dislikes.

However, there's more to Mossman than simply being an austere traitor who sugarcoats her words. She shows glimpses of vulnerability, of reconciliation with Alyx, and once she stands up to Breen, she's on our side for good.

There's a lot of potential for depth and complexity with her character and her motivations, which makes it unfortunate that fandom seems more interested in writing 10K-word angsty Barney Calhoun character studies instead. Especially since Barney was created just to be some rando.

Coupled with the way Marc Laidlaw practically forced Alyx to stuff her in the fridge in Epistle 3, these are all reasons why I am the biggest Mossman apologist ever. Normally I would be in the camp that's not too hot on her, but her treatment makes me protective in a way that's simply not present in my feelings on Lanolin.

You mean to tell me we're given the choice to mercy-kill Breen, motherfucking Breen, but Alyx lugs a tortured Mossman around, blames her for Eli's death, and unceremoniously pops one between her eyes once she's outlived her usefulness? Nah, Marc, you're too drunk to drive. Give me your keys.

...Anyway. My point is that you can have negative Nancies, but they need to not be so goddamn dour all the time. Unlike Lanolin, you can see bits and pieces of Judith's humanity peek through the hardened crust of insensitive character writing. That alone makes it worth suffering through the fridging and undercooked portrayals.

Lanolin, on the other hand, doesn't really give us any glimpses, if at all, of a personality to offset her unpleasant demeanor. Assholes aren't assholes 24/7, but it's like every time you see her on the page, she's sneering for no real reason.

[twistedtummies2]

COMMISSION UPDATE + NOTES ABOUT THE FUTURE

Hello, everyone! This is just another commission update Journal. As usual, people keep asking me if I’m open for comms, or when I will be, and now that I’ve completed another round, I want to keep everyone posted. This will be split into a “Short Answer” and a “Long Answer” section (the latter coming after the “Keep Reading” line). Read as much as you care to. HERE IS THE SHORT ANSWER: I haven’t got even the START of an idea of when I will publicly reopen. I also have decided to stop accepting requests to place on the Waiting List. (I will get to why that is in a bit, if you want to keep reading into the “long answer” section.) I am going to work on finishing a trade, and writing two special stories, before I jump into the next round. The people who are on the next round will be contacted in the near future. They are as follows…

@trashytummies

Buffalo20 (FA)

Grimsaurus (FA)

ph0220 (FA)

@clouddreamer101

If any of the five above drop out, then someone from the Waiting List will be rotated into place. I may give the names of the people on the Waiting List in the future, but not here and now (for no other reason than this post is going to be long enough). If you want more details on things, you may continue reading into the next section. Otherwise, you may leave now. I know business matters can be dry. :-p

HERE IS THE LONG ANSWER: For the past several years, I have been fighting increasingly severe backlog, combined with an increasing demand, with tons of people coming to me for stories and not having enough time to finish everything, due to a combination of various elements I won’t get into here. (Again, this journal is going to be long enough as it is.) As the current situation stands, there is no way I am going to be able to complete the next round of commissions, plus everyone on the waiting list, PLUS other obligations and pieces of writing before the year is out. It’s just not going to happen; even if by some miracle I DO complete everything there before 2025, I am going to be SEVERELY worn out when it’s all over. So, what does this mean? It means that a lot of people on the waiting list will need to wait till next year to get their stories done. It also means that, at the moment, I sincerely haven’t got an idea when I’ll reopen, and anybody who asks is going to get that answer: there’s just no way I can predict it at the present time. That’s going to depend on a lot of factors, most of which are not within my power to control, frankly. If you want to know what those factors are, ask me in private; I am not boring everybody with my personal life issues here.

It ALSO means that, WHEN I DO REOPEN, once again I’m going to make changes. I really, REALLY don’t want to, but I just kind of have to. This time, however, the motivation behind it is going to be different: if this year’s severe backlogging, combined with the disastrous attempts of the past two or three years, have taught me anything, it’s that I physically cannot fight the fact backlog is going to happen. It’s just not going to be possible. With everything else that is going on in the present, has gone on in the past, and is most assuredly going to happen in the future…there is simply no way I can fight it. SO…instead of FIGHTING the backlog, I’m going to ACCEPT it, and I’m going to try and figure out a way to manage my commissions that will allow me to manage things with the full expectation it’s going to happen. I may also start looking into other ways to gain funding; I have considered perhaps opening a Patreon account (more on that later), or seeking other avenues of revenue in general. Rest assured, however: at the present moment, I have no intention of stopping commission work. It’s just a matter of how to do it better, so that I don’t have tons and tons of people waiting months upon months for stories to get done. However, I won’t be able to figure all that out till AFTER I get through everything already on my plate. Having said that…as I said, I will be releasing all the names on the Waiting List in the future. If you see your name there, when I do, and you no longer want a story for any reason - such as the long wait, or financial situations changing - then you are welcome to remove your slot. If I’ve guaranteed one to you in private, and you already know this, you are welcome to contact me privately, in turn.

I think I’ve said all I can say, or feel comfortable saying (a bit of both), for now. I know this whole mess is a colossal pain in the rear end. I know it makes a lot of people anxious or frustrated, and I know that it probably has made a lot of people cross with me. Believe me when I say, I am as agitated as the rest of you, as well as, frankly, a little depressed. If I seem a bit short when answering messages related to commissions, as a result, I apologize in advance. I’m just trying my best here, people; I’m only one man, and with a lot on his plate. I’m sure others are the same, so I ask you to continue to be patient and know that I am working my hardest to manage things and get the job done. I want to thank everybody here for your patience and for your continued support. Also, if you’ve made it all the way to the end of this journal, thank you for your support. Bless you all.

[croaken-the-oaken]

“The Super Mario Bros. Movie 2023” Review: It Wasn’t Mid

***1 or 2 spoilers but not really***

Another video game movie. And this time, it’s starring Mario Mario, Mr. Video Game, himself. The Internet is shook. Nintendo, teaming with Illumination. It could very well set the standard for video game movies to follow. One thing is clear, all eyes are on this movie. 

My sister was especially excited for it. Me, I told myself I was watching out of obligation, since I didn’t want to miss out on the newest of the turbulent fancies of the Internet.

A number of doubts mixed with potential had settled in. Adapting movies from video games isn’t a terrible concept. It depends on the series. But this is Mario, what does he bring to the table? A colorful world and character list and, for two things. Then there’s the studio that infected the world with Minions. While Illumination falls back to safe tactics when it comes to storytelling and humor, they do have the talent in animation, and I knew the looming eyes of Shigeru Miyamoto-san would not allow the Mario movie to be less than amazing.

With all the factors to consider, my expectations were firmly set to “mid, at least.”

After watching, my conclusion is “Better than mid. Dare I say, good. Great, even.”.

It’s a movie. Actually, no, it’s a MOVIE! You got character arcs and motivations. You got worldbuilding. You got colorful graphics and settings. You got references sprinkled on like it’s a cupcake, even down to the background music. You get to see Mama Mia and Papa Pia!

It takes the loose bits and pieces of Mario canon, strings them together and retools them to make another thing, old but new, as is to be expected. Brooklynese Mario, brotherly bonds, Bowser’s love life, action Peach, power-ups as a power system, Kong society, etc. The narrative never strays far from its roots, and no one was asking it to.

On the off-chance someone has never heard of “the Super Mario Bros.” what are they left with? A quick romp through peculiar kingdoms and bright setpieces and nonsensical architecture, the adventure of a determined everyman searching for his bro, a corny yet actively threatening villain, a kart-racing monkey tribe, and a classic moral theme of not giving up so you can say your kid learned something from this experience.

Also, the more typical Illumination-esque quirks are few and far between, and it’s tolerable. The pop-music? Fine. Passable. They fit their moments well enough. The jokes land more often than not and don’t rely on cheap tactics. When the water started bubbling around Mario and Donkey Kong, I completely expected one of them to say “it wasn’t me”. But they didn’t, and I appreciate that. Nihilistic Luma was a bit forced, though.

The movie is fast-paced and doesn’t linger too long on characters’ low moments. It keeps the momentum going, but it doesn’t allow the more dramatic parts much time to sink in. I didn’t find it to be overwhelming, though I imagine this could be off-putting for some. I propose this kinetic pace is a byproduct of its source.

Miyamoto’s general philosophy of “gameplay-first, story-second” is a big contributor to Nintendo’s success—it makes good games. The problem is a lot of people mistake “second” for “last”. The neat part of the video game medium is that gameplay and story needn’t always grow at the other’s expense. One can reinforce the other. The man knows this, and this philosophy carries over into the Mario movie.

Rather than adapt a minimalistic-story game franchise into a movie, they adapted the movie into a game of how many secrets you can find in a given shot as the story progresses. We’re tugged along a guided tour of Mario legacy, and the world invites us over to be active participants and challenges us to eyeball every reference poking out from behind each corner.

It helps that it’s one of those good movies where the references and cameos have a reason to exist beyond being there. Is it a backdrop? That’s certified worldbuilding, baby. Is it at the forefront? It probably serves a primary purpose in the scene. It means the difference between respecting and insulting the viewer’s intelligence, and the film respects its viewers, whether a reference manifests as a generalized fun moment or as a reward for long-time fans.

They set out to create a lighthearted run through Mario’s world with emotional beats as checkpoints, and that’s what they made. It has its quirks, but I enjoyed myself, and it made my sister happy.

If one thing is true, it's that it is indeed the Super Mario Bros. Movie.

Rating: A Mario Time / 5

[trulyinspiringmovies]

Fast X

“Fast X” finally takes its foot off the gas pedal and feels like the first movie that doesn’t one-up the previous.

Dominic Toretto gets a mission from the Agency to steal computer chips in Rome. He lets Roman, Tej, and Ramsey handle that while he stays at home with his wife and kid. In the middle of the night, Cipher, an old enemy of the family, shows up badly wounded. She warns Dom that his family is in danger because the son of Hernan Reyes, a drug kingpin who was killed because of Dom’s crew, is now seeking revenge. They realize Hernan Reyes’s son has already put his plan in motion when Cipher reveals that the Agency isn’t operating in Rome currently.

I know I champion cinema as an art form to the point of borderline pretentiousness, but I do have a soft spot for mindless popcorn flicks. Case in point, the Fast & Furious franchise. Since the fifth installment, these movies have been unapologetically insane and I’m here for it. What I loved most about each installment was the fact that they were able to outdo themselves on the crazy factor each and every single time. Just when you thought they couldn’t go more off-the-rails, they manage to do it in the sequel. Well, with “Fast X”, I’m sad to say that they finally ran out of gas. With “F9″ literally going into space, it was hard to see how they could top that. “Fast X” was going to have to have a street race on the moon to top that. Sadly, this movie is the first in a long time for this franchise to feel tame. Don’t get me wrong, it’s still absolute insanity, but it’s not more insane than the last movie. There are no action set pieces that were instantly iconic. I know that a lot of people are saying it’s the giant bomb ball scene, but the action in that scene seemed like an appetizer for this franchise. There were no shameless soap opera reveals, which was also a bummer. They did do two reveals at the end, but one felt promising rather than exciting and the other left a bit of a bad taste in my mouth. The first one was a welcome surprise because I liked their character and their return has fun potential for how the group dynamic changes. The other just feels like they shouldn’t be welcome back into the franchise after all the bad blood. I guess their career taking a nosedive was just the motivator to put aside the beef and start being a team player again. There’s a character who sacrifices himself, but with how ridiculously durable these characters are, there was no emotional weight behind it. It felt out of place that something as simple as that would kill off a character. Also, at this point, we, as the audience members of the Fast & Furious franchise, have been trained to not take character deaths seriously because we know they’ll come back eventually. That same character also basically has Dom’s son commit murder and act like it was fun. That was a bit weird for me and I’m sure a lot of people felt the same way. Finally, my main problem with this movie is its ending. I know that the movie is planned to be a trilogy to end the franchise, but the ending felt abrupt. The movie didn’t reach the heights it normally does and then it cuts when we’re in the middle of the action. I mean, I’m definitely excited to find out what’s going to happen next, but not to the point where I can’t wait. I really hope these next two movies lean more into the absurdity because that’s how these movies should go out.

★★★

Watched on May 25th, 2023

[drawingconclusions]

ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE & TIK TOK LEGISLATION OVERREACH

I usually try waiting until after a mass shooting investigation has progressed further before commenting on such tragedies. But some of the things I've seen in the news need to be addressed upfront. And you can thank the recent antics of the local police helicopter for my upcoming post addressing what our society has degenerated into.

ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE - However, before moving on, let me touch briefly on the subject of Artificial Intelligence (AI). I've already written about this to some extent in another forum, but just yesterday I saw a report on The National Desk stating that AI has the potential to replace a size-able number of jobs in the coming years. I only saw the stats in passing, so I won't try to quote any figures here. However, the numbers contradict what some have been saying about AI in the past few months, proudly exclaiming that its introduction to society will create more jobs! I didn't buy into that line then, and I still don't today. In my other article I admonished developers & venture capitalists, etc., to consider the potentially disastrous economic & cultural consequences for a society when mass layoffs ensue as a result of jobs being outsourced to AI software. And yet, I don't think many are giving heed to this advice given by myself & others before me. It's interesting what overwhelming greed will drive a person or a company to pursue, even at the risk of destabilizing an entire economy.

But then greed isn't the only motivating factor in the mix, is it? It's quite intriguing how a number of the AI ventures that have exploded in the past year specifically seek to replace some of our human intellectual processes. We have AI that can write essays for students and others that attempt to provide news for us. And while there are various forms of art (some that solely entertain or provide a visual escape), some of the deepest kinds of art ask questions of society and makes individuals re-think the morality or efficiency of government, large organizations, or other aspects of culture. And yet the latest AI seems to intend to replace creative thinking with soulless output from lifeless software. Almost as if the organizations behind AI want the software to serve as a substitute for our creative expression and rigorous thought processes in the very near future. Do they seek to effect a mindless, shallow people that can't think for themselves or question those in authority?

If you look at the work of creative geniuses such as George Lucas or Gene Roddenberry, you'll notice that although their proposed applications of AI were somewhat limited, their use of such machine assistance extended mostly to areas that humans themselves couldn't hope to master. (…Such as expertly familiarizing themselves with thousands of interstellar dialects & languages or having the ability to auto-pilot an entire space vessel in a heartbeat.) The AI in these cases was not used to supplant human jobs or replace human reasoning. I realize these are TV and movie references, but perhaps we would be wise to consider the appropriate & relevant lessons, lest we become a society subservient to robots, and of course, our pet cats. In the meantime, I again call for legislation addressing the use of AI in our society, and I also call for financial renumeration for all those artists whose work was used to train AI software without permission.

TIK TOK LEGISLATION - I've already rambled long enough when my whole point of writing today was addressing the mass shooting in Nashville, TN this past Monday. Apparently, I won't get to the specifics of one of the pieces of legislation that's supposedly meant to deal with banning TikTok. I heard a report that the two Senators who crafted it (one Democrat and one Republican) apparently wrote it in an ambiguous way that could give the government more powers in prosecuting individuals or companies who have any kind of connection with certain foreign entities. Since we've long become a global economy and many businesses deal with foreign countries on an almost daily basis (not to mention the fact that some software & apps are developed overseas in a number of countries), we can't have over-broad legislation that's meant to stifle business or prosecute innocent individuals. If your intent is to ban TikTok, then say so. Otherwise, don't enact laws that will give the deep state more powers to harass or surveil Americans. This is all I have time for today, so if anyone's concerned about aspects of this legislation, contact your Senators and members of Congress and have them explain what it's really about.

Again, I've taken too much time on this, and I'll do my best to keep the next two posts succinct.

[batsarebetterthanpeople]

my guy. Ed is literally not in the shot at the academy when he says "wife, Mary Bonnet." He fucks off rather enthusiastically and the guy doesn't say wife Mary Bonnet for like another 30 seconds and 7 lines of dialogue. I don't think he's just hanging out around the corner in case someone says something interesting. He's being directed where to put his shit and told to shave his beard. I don't think the Navy is letting him hang behind the door to eves drop. They're shoving a razor in his hand and telling him to lose the leather.

As for the pictures. Literally why couldn't they be a neice and nephew and a sister? Or a deceased wife and kids? Like Ed would be jumping to a lot of really uncharitable (if correct) conclusions about Stede if he just assumed that he abandoned his family like that. I have my sister's school photo up on my fridge at my apartment. It's not that weird to have family portraits lying around of people who aren't your wife and kids. (Also not to project but I literally believed the niece and nephew lie about two tattoos above his heart, you'll believe a lotta shit when you have the rose colored glasses on. I'm not saying that Stede lied about who was in the pictures I'm just saying that Ed has motive to believe it's not his wife) And even if he did assume it to be a wife and kids, I once again direct you to the widower hypothesis. "I was a coward" "I should have been there to guide my family" he ran away to be a pirate for Christ's sake. He's being literally so dramatic Ed has reason to assume that something dramatic happened. The portraits mean nothing and Ed probably wouldn't ask about them if he thought they were dead out of respect for Stede.

Anyway in conclusion, I considered both of the factors you brought up when I made my initial post and considered them both to be deeply irrelevant. Ed doesn't know shit about shit he's very intentionally way off screen for every clarifying moment. Just because he's a genius doesn't mean he can connect puzzle pieces Stede's not giving him. He never got the chance to connect Mary with the woman in the drawing, who again isn't even necessarily Stede's wife.

#Ed: Who's mary#Stede: Would you like to see my secret closet?#Ed: Ah he is gay. Good. Mary's probably his sister or something So I was making a joke in the tags on this post and then I realized. Ed only ever hears Stede talk about Mary twice. once here

The lines here are as follows:

Stede: Mary *whimper*

Ed: Who's this Mary then?

Then Lucius bursts in and no more is heard about Mary until here.

The Dialogue goes:

Stede: Do they really think I'm dead? Or did Mary report me dead out of spite? I wonder if they had a funeral. I mean what would they bury? Would it be an empty - AHHHHH

Ed: What?

Stede: What have they done with your face?

and then they talk about the beard and no more is said on the subject of Mary or the fact that Stede has been reported dead. The only thing that Ed knows is that Stede has a woman in his life named Mary that would be the person to report him dead if he went missing. She could be anyone, a sister, a cousin, maybe even a maid. Ed has no reason to believe that it's his wife. In fact there are reasons to believe that she's not his wife considering that he doesn't wear a ring on his wedding ring finger at any point over the course of series. And if someone was acting like that at you you wouldn't assume they were married either.

Even in this scene he says

Ed: What's that? Grain tower?

Stede: Oh, it's a lighthouse, I should have been one for my family. Guide them.

Ed: Well, Technically you're supposed to avoid lighthouses, so you don't crack up on the rocks.

The way Stede says that it kinda sounds like Something Happened to his family, especially in conjunction with him muttering that he's a coward and it is never clarified if Mary is part of that family.

Anyway Ed thinks Stede is either a bachelor because he's gay or he thinks he's a widower because of the "I was a coward" "I should have been one for my family" bit that he's doing. This is especially funny in conjunction with Stede "trouble in paradise" Bonnet thinking that Ed and Izzy are together.

[miekasa]

six thirty

+ pairing: armin arlert x (fem) reader

+ genres and warnings: college au, enemies to lovers… kinda… in a very nerdy academic rivalry kind of way, me being a comedian you’re welcome, fluff, smut/nsfw content

+ word count: 5.6k… pls say sike

+ notes: shout out to ryn​​ for listening to me during our very many rambling sessions and also for extorting me into posting this. consider it a late birthday present for my favorite menace </2

+ side notes: no i am not a part of armin nation and i never want to be, nor do i wish speak of this again.

Armin Arlert is the perfect student. Prompt and well prepared during lecture; smart and insightful during office hours; the apple of any teacher’s eye. Unfortunately for him, so are you.

If you asked Armin, you were a little too clever for your own good, and liked to make it very well known that you believe you’re the smartest person in any room you walk into. That may be true, but it doesn’t mean that he has to sit there and worship your superiority complex. 

If someone asked you, you’d say that Armin was a know it all, and a manipulative little piece of shit. Again, not a completely false statement, but perhaps a slightly biased character analysis.

Neither of you are wrong. It’s why you’re both the bane of each other’s existence.  

There’s a noticeable grimace on your face, chin in your palm, elbows resting atop your desk, as you turn your head to where, sure enough, Armin is seated where he always is: first row, right side, directly in front of the podium, like perfect little teacher’s pet he wants to be. He doesn’t have any books to unpack like everybody else because a shiny, blue iPad is propped up on his desk in place of all of that. He’s robably looking through his pre-written list of showboaty questions to ask during lecture. Like he’s a cut above everyone else.  

Maybe some of the other morons in this course, but not you, that’s for damn sure. You bet that if you broke his thousand dollar tablet he wouldn’t think he’s such hot shit anymore. Maybe that would knock him down a couple of pegs.

“Look at him sitting there with his stupid blue eyes, and his stupid Bieber haircut, and his stupid, shiny blonde hair, and his stupid fucking glasses. I bet they’re not even real and he just wears them to—”

“Did you just call his hair shiny?”

You snap your head to your left, “What—no, of course not. I said shoddy, he’s probably a bottle blonde. Maybe all the chemicals from the hair dye seeps into his head and warps his sense of reality.”

“I’m pretty sure you said shiny.”

“Shut up, Annie.”

She raises an eyebrow at you, “You got something against blondes? Because your track record would beg to differ.”

“Once. We kissed once, and it was truth or dare, and we were both sloshed.”

“You still chose me,” she reminds you, pulling her notebook out of her backpack.

You huff, ignoring her words and turning your head back to Armin, this time finding him twirling his stupid fucking expensive Apple Pencil between his fingers like it’s nothing. You can feel your eye begin to twitch.

Perhaps he can, too—or maybe he can just feel your eyes boring holes into him—because he turns in your direction and ceases his pen twirling the moment you make eye-contact. More students filter in, walking past your line of vision, but each time they move, you and Armin meet gazes again; neither one of you daring to look away, a palpable tension between you.

His eyes might be icy blue, but you can see the rose pink tint underneath his skin, even from the distance; a familiar blush that spreads across his nose and cheeks. You exhale with a silent laugh, breaking your eye contact before he grows completely red, just in time for Dr. Zöe to start the lecture.

Everybody thinks that Armin’s so brilliant, so smart, so untouchable. You know that his only genius is that he’s fooling everyone into thinking that he’s the kind, humble, little nerd boy who wouldn’t harm a fly, when that’s far from the truth.

Armin is mean. He’s competitive and possessive and snarky and sly. He’s the definition of a wolf in sheep’s clothing, but you’re pretty sure the only person in the world who might believe that is Eren. Though, you’ve heard some of the insults Armin throws Eren’s way, and they’re not exactly soft. Granted, that’s a factor in any friendship, and most of his jabs are coated with a layer of intellect the brunette likely doesn’t understand, but that doesn’t make Armin any less sarcastic. It just means Eren’s too dumb to know what’s going on.

Poor kid. Maybe it’s for the best.

That’s all to say that Armin is nothing but a big talker—not even; a smooth-talker, is more like it. He comes across as perfect, all good and sweet and soft, because that’s what he lets people see. Nobody else looks through to the sharp tongue and ragged edges, because they’re too busy cooing over innocent blue-eyed baby in front of them.

But you know that Armin, the one he doesn’t want other people to see: the one that’s so good, he’s bad; so sweet that he’s sick; so nice that it’s cruel. And you know just how much pressure to apply to make his façade crack.

And you intend on doing so.

“I don’t know which formula to use—hey, are you two eye fucking again? Cut it out, I’m trying not to fail over here,” Eren exclaims, poking Armin’s shoulder with his pen.

The jab averts the blonde’s attention back to his friend, eyes wide as he blinks himself back to reality. He curses under his breath when he feels a familiar warmth creeping across his cheeks. Few things piss Armin off like the way he gets red in the face after thinking about you, or even just looking at you, for too long. Whether it’s red out of pure annoyance, or another feeling he tries to push down, it’s irritating, and above all, embarrassing.

He spares one more glance over his shoulder, to where you and Annie are sat a few tables away in the library. You’ve looked away by now, focusing back on your notes, but Armin swears he can still see that irritating smirk on your face from this angle.

He rolls his tongue along the inside of his cheek. He should be able to keep it together around you by now, but he can’t, and it bothers him. You bother him.

“We weren’t eye fucking,” he refutes, turning his back to you completely, “She’s such a little know it all sometimes, s’annoying.”

Eren raises an eyebrow. He knows that you and Armin don’t get along, but he doesn’t understand why. Armin knows almost all your friends, and you definitely know all of his—Eren would even go as far as to say that you and him are pretty close friends—so it’s not a matter of not spending time together. You’re also the two smartest people Eren knows. In theory you should have more than enough to talk about together, but every time you’re in the same room, you hardly acknowledge each other outside of surface level commentary, or glances that border on staring.

Thankfully, the bickering remains in the classroom for the most part. Eren’s seen you and Armin go at, and he’ll be the first to admit that it’s beyond intimidating. Though, a little part of him finds it oddly entertaining, and he can’t help but to be impressed. All the more reason for you two to start playing on the same team. 

Eren thinks the two of you should get to the root of the issue already. Which, if you asked him, has very little to do with your rivaled academic genius, and a lot to do with your lack of it concerning your feelings for each other.

“She’s not that bad,” Eren vouches for you, “I think you two might get along if you ever spoke outside of trying to one-up each other in class.”

“I’m not trying to one-up anybody,” Armin rolls his eyes, a nasty habit he’s picked up as of late, “And if you stopped and used your brain for a moment, then maybe you could solve the problem.”

“I did use my brain!” Eren’s lips fall into an offended pout, “But none of this makes any sense to me! I fucking hate math, you know that.”

Armin sighs, feeling sympathetic for Eren as he slumps into himself defeatedly. He knows that Eren isn’t dumb, but math in any capacity is certainly not his strong suit. He also knows that he shouldn’t give Eren all the answers, but sometimes he needs a little push to get him there. A little bit of added guidance and motivation to keep him going. It’s either that, or he has to trick Eren into doing the work himself, but clearly that method wasn’t working out today.

“You already solved for the activation energy, now you’re supposed to use the Arrhenius equation in the expanded form.”

Eren’s lips fall into a small o-shape, as his eyes scramble across his paper again. “But—how do you—”

“There’s two measurements given for temperature.”

“Oh. Oh, yeah! Okay, right, but then—”

“You have to convert it to Kelvin first or it won’t work. It’s given to you in Celsius.”

Eren furrows his eyebrows together, and then it finally clicks for him. He mutters to himself as he puts his pencil to paper to begin to work through the problem, “How do I convert—”

“Add 273.15 to it. Make sure you put the bigger one first in the equation, or else you’ll get a negative error.”

“You didn’t even do it,” Eren huffs, angrily punching numbers into his calculator, “How do you know it’s right?”

“Because I took this class already,” Armin reminds him, sparing a brief glance over his shoulder, “Isn’t that why I’m tutoring you?”

Eren coughs over his embarrassed blush, “Oh, yeah, right.”

It’s quiet between them as Eren makes a final attempt at solving the equation, carefully and proudly circling his answer when he’s finished. He looks to Armin with bright eyes, and is content when the blonde gives him a reassuring nod, confirming that his answer is correct.

“Well that was a bitch to work through,” Eren sighs, stretching his arms behind his head with a slight yawn, “Chemistry is nothing but glorified math. It’s barely a science.”

Armin shrugs, but he doesn’t disagree. He isn’t the biggest fan of chemistry, unlike somebody else he knows. “Why’d you take chem if you knew it would have so much math?”

It’s Eren’s turn to shrug, slumping back in his chair and running a hand through his hair, “I gotta take all the pre-med requirements… just in case.”

“You wanna go to med school? Since when?”

Eren averts his eyes from his friend, a telltale sign of his bashfulness coming over him. It doesn’t happen often, but Armin knows it’s sincere when it does.

“Dunno. I’m not sure of it, just wanna keep my options open, you know?” Eren replies casually, “Doctors help make a difference and all that, and surgery looks kind of cool. Besides, if my bastard father could do it, how hard could it really be?”  

A gentle smile grows on Armin’s lips, “You can do it. If you really want to, I know you can.”  

Eren’s head snaps up, eyes wide and filled with affirmation and adoration. He relaxes his expression quickly after, but the pink hues are still present, “Thanks, Min.”

From his position he catches eye of another head of familiar blonde hair over Armin’s shoulder, and beside it, your own hair. There’s a flash of a moment when your eyes meet Eren’s, and you offer him a small wave before turning back to Annie to resume doing your homework. Eren barely gets the chance to wave back, but a dopey smile sits on his features at your kind gesture. It fades when he looks back to Armin, once again pondering the animosity between you two.

You and Armin aren’t all that different, you just need to get to know each other better. Actually, Eren thinks that you might make a good couple if you both stopped overthinking it.

“So, what’s the deal with you and (_____)?” Eren asks, bending his right knee to wrap his arm around his leg and rest his chin on top of it, “You act like she kicked your cat.”

“What?” Armin questions, flustered, “What—no, she wouldn’t touch Soup.” 

Eren quirks an eyebrow at that. “I still can’t believe you named your cat Soup.”

“It’s technically a nickname.”

“A nickname for what?”

“…For Miso Soup.”

Eren blinks. “Okay, if she didn’t mess with Soup, then what’s the issue? You scared of her or something?”

“Why would I be scared of her?” Armin asks, tone incredulous; then softer, more subdued, like a kid who doesn’t want to admit they’re wrong, “’M not scared of her.”

“You stare at her like you are—well, you look kind of angry, but also scared. Like, when you see those balloon things outside of car washes. You hate them, but you can’t look away from them—”

“I am not scared of those!”

“You are, and it’s okay,” Eren waves away his friend’s denial, “Oh, I get it—is this one of those things where she makes you nervous, so you respond with anger and sarcasm instead of thinking through your feelings?”

“You’ve been going to therapy for one month, relax.”

“Maybe you two should go to friend therapy and work this out,” Eren bites back, “It probably doesn’t help that she’s always with Annie. They both look like they would murder someone with no remorse. I admit, it is kind of scary… but it’s kind of hot, too.”

Armin spares him an unamused glare. Eren crosses his arms in defense, “What? I’m not wrong. It’s sexy in a scary kind of way, maybe that’s why you’re always eye fucking. I don’t blame you, she’s hot. I would let her and Annie axe-murder me without regret.”

“Eren?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up and do problem six, I don’t have all day.”

Eren huffs, but flips the page to the next problem, grumbling under his breath as he attempts the, “It’s not as sexy when you’re mean, you know.”

Armin hits him silent.

Tuesdays are Armin’s favorite days because he only has one class. Sure, it’s three hours long, but it’s much more bearable than his usual eight-hour day.

It’s also the one class he shares with you. Which is why he’s always mentally exhausted by the end of it, but physically, he feels like he could punch a wall; all his pent up anger and frustration is channeled into his body and he’s desperate for an outlet for it. It’s a feeling he hates to love.

Annie seems to have cut class today seeing as she’s not next to you; and it’s almost as if it’s emboldened you to mess with him even more than usual.

He bites his tongue as Dr. Zöe enthusiastically uses your latest point as a segue into the final topic of the evening. He made that same point ten minutes ago. You just worded it differently—admittedly, more concisely, but somehow with a little more nuance, than when he had hesitantly proposed it—and, yeah, maybe you made it sound more convincing, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t come up with it first. If his stupid, fancy stylus didn’t cost upwards of $200 he might have snapped it in half.

You’re definitely the better conversationalist, that much he can admit. Words have never been his forte and he hates the way you can talk circles around him, and that there’s so little he can say to make you stop.

He wishes you would just shut up. In fact, he’d like to shut you up himself.

Thankfully, class ends sooner rather than later. Armin finds himself briefly talking with Dr. Zöe afterwards, most other students having taken the opportunity to leave early for the night. To nobody’s surprise, you’re not one of them, having stuck around to talk to the professor, too.

“The two of you should consider lab research this summer,” Dr. Zöe suggests ardently, walking between the two of you as you exit the lecture hall, “I could really use two students like you!”

Armin chuckles at his boisterous professor. He’s known about the research opportunities at their lab for quite some time now, and he knows that you have, too. “I don’t know that lab work is really my strong suit.”

The three of you come to stop at the hallway intersection, the professor now standing across from you and him. You give them a polite smile, “And I’m not sure that collaboration is mine.”

Armin spares a glance just in time to see you flash one of your own in his direction. Dr. Zöe’s eyes flicker between the two students rapidly, a slight squint to their eyelids.

They aren’t quite sure why their two brightest students seem to despise each other. They wish you two would just get along already, so that they don’t have to spend the summer training half-witted chemical engineering majors how to use basic lab equipment; and instead, conduct some actual research.

“Well, I hope the both of you reconsider,” they smile, “I’ll see you during office hours, I presume?”

You two nod in sync, sending the doctor off with happy smile, just long enough until you see that they’ve turned the corner further down the hall

“Had fun stealing my point earlier?” Armin questions, looking your way as you still wave mindlessly, eye-twitching at your polite façade.

“I would call it improvement,” you tell him, not bothering to turn in his direction; still and smiling waving like the professor can see or hear you, “You should stick to showing, rather than saying. You never were good with your words.”

Armin kisses his teeth together. He’ll give you what you want, if that’s how you want it.

In a fit of irritation, he grabs your moving hand by the wrist, and pulls you down the opposite hallway, not caring for your dramatic wailing behind him.

“Hey, Einstein, the exit is the other way, do you have any idea where we’re going?”

“Ever heard of observational learning? Maybe if you shut up for a second, you would figure it out,” he snaps, pulling you further.

There’s a door on the left that Armin knows is unlocked, and he’s quick to open it and pull you inside. Before you have the chance to glance around, he has you pushed up against the wall, jaw forced up and forward.

He could scoff at the small hitch in your breath at his actions, clearly a little too satisfied with being manhandled; but instead, he takes the opportunity to press your lips together. Armin quite likes the feeling of your lips on his; warm and soft and far too welcoming; a rare moment of silence.

“Someone could hear us.”

Or not so silent.

“Then be quiet,” he snarls.

Armin feels your fingers weave themselves into his hair, scraping along his undercut in sync with his lips trailing down your jaw. A groan falls from his when he feels you tug at the ends of the strands, just hard enough to force his face back to eye level with yours.

“You’re the one with the big mouth.”

“You’re so smart, huh. Always got something to say,” Armin lets out a low chuckle, deft fingers running down your sides to squeeze at your waist, “You can be really fuckin’ annoying, you know that.”

You mirror half of his ministrations, letting your right hand trail down his chest barely brushing over the very visible bulge in his jeans, before hooking your index finger under the belt loop, effectively pulling him closer to you.

The smile on your face is dirty, but you’re not laughing like he was, “Do something about it then.”

His blue eyes grow cloudy as he takes a good look at you; slowly rakes over your features, from that stupid, snarky look in your eyes, to your kiss-bruised lips, down to your chest, and back up again. Armin finds himself copying your smirk for all the wrong reasons. But it’s your own fault; you always did like to push him one step over the edge.

“Fine.”

Despite your twisted grin there’s a look in your eyes that’s eager; willing; ready for the taking. That same look you have when you talk over him in class; when you pretend to ignore him around your mutual friends; when you want him to fuck you stupid.

Armin uses his right hand to cup your jaw again, closing the distance between your mouths with a less than gentle kiss. He feels your groans reverberating through his body, waves of heat accompanying them and going straight to his erection. Your arch your back into the kiss, but he forces you backwards, left hand flat against your tummy.

Following suit, he pushes himself against your body, pressing his knee between your legs; the thin fabric of your stockings doing little to prevent your thighs from rubbing against him.

He swipes his tongue over the seam of your lips, earning a frenzied whine when glides his tongue across yours, and teasingly licks at the roof of your mouth. Your tongue is lithe against his, but somehow just as deceptive and sly as always, and Armin would be a fool to deny that he loved it.

There’s a spark flickering in his stomach when you push your center harshly against his; and it’s only ignited further when he feels you bite his bottom lip. A guttural growl escapes him, his right hand moving to your throat with practiced ease, pushing the back of your head into the wall.

He pauses for a moment, drinks in your wide eyes and desperate visage, “You are the single most frustrating person I’ve ever met in my entire life.”

And he couldn’t get enough of it if he tried. He couldn’t get enough of you.

You must see through his words, into the grainy expression of adoration in his eyes, because he can see it filtering into yours, pupils dilating with both want and care.

“Aw, baby, I love you, too,” you pout, leaning forward as best to can to peck him on the lips, “Now, shut me up and fuck me. It’s exhausting being this pretty and smart-mouthed, you know.”

Armin dips his head into your neck, squeezes against the column of your throat with warning until he hears a gasp escape from your lips. He presses gentle kisses into your skin, in stark contrast to the increasing pressure from his fingers, waiting for one last request, and then, finally—“Please.”

He smiles, loosens his grip for a moment, just long enough to hear your pretty panting, before slotting his lips against yours again. Your moans are lewd and sloppy and breathless between kisses, and it makes his dick twitch in his pants. You really are so fucking loud. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

He uses his free hand to push your skirt up, and subsequently dip past the weak barrier of your tights and underwear. The slightest flicker of his fingers against your center has you choking out a moan, and Armin is forced to press his right thumb harder against your neck.

“Quiet,” he reminds you, “You asked nicely, so I’ll give you what you want. No need to be loud about it.”

He watches you nod with short and restricted movements, a sadistic kind of power washing over him at your eager compliance. He uses his middle finger to rub slow, careful circles around your clit; the feeling of your wet cunt against his fingers, coupled with your wanton moaning only spurs on the throbbing in his pants.

“Armin,” you whine, impatiently; but he expected that of you, “Don’t tease.”

His eyes flash to yours briefly, pressing his lips to yours again to swallow your shuddered moans. He dips his tongue into your mouth at the same time he does his middle finger into your cunt. An obscene moan echoing through the classroom, as Armin feels your body arching into his again; feels your fingers frantically flying to his hair, searching for purchase to anchor yourself on.

He pulls away in time to add another digit and watch you groan underneath him. He pushes both his fingers in to the knuckle, carefully curling them upwards to elicit the prettiest sound out of you. He has to admit, it’s probably his favorite thing to hear come out of your mouth.

He keeps a steady pace, pumping his fingers in and out of your pussy with perfect friction, teetering between letting you moan his name and choking you silent. Your hands are frantic in his hair, grasping and pulling and so, so, desperate, Armin can’t help but to finger fuck you harder.

“You want one more?” he questions, but his voice is taunting, words ghosted over your lips just out of reach for you to kiss.

He can feel your leg trembling against his, see you pupils shaking along with your shaking head. Armin stops to smile; he thought you might do that. He could probably make you cry right now if he wanted to. Maybe later.

“Want you to fuck me,” your words short and ragged, eyebrows raised when he uses his thumb to press lightly against your clit, “Armin, please.”

The blonde shakes his head, “You’re dumber than you look if you think I’m gonna fuck you in a classroom, baby, so if you want to cum now, you better tell me.”

You have the audacity to pout of all things, “You’re mean.”

Armin lets out a breathless laugh. “You like it,” he leans forward to peck you sweetly, “So, what’ll it be?”

“Fine, but I want head later, too,” you tell him, words becoming less firm when Armin teases his ring finger against your slit, “Please.”

Armin hums in compliance, leaning forward to kiss you again, this time with more tact, and he chases your whines when he finally pushes a third finger inside of you.

“Look at you,” he croons breaking your kiss and forcing your head back again, “You take it so well.”

“Ah—fuck, there, Armin—there,” you cry, wet heat squeezing around his fingers in intermittent spasms.

Armin watches your chest heave with desperate breaths, air stuttering to pass from your lips to your lungs with his hand around your neck. He can feel your walls constricting around his fingers, feel your body shaking underneath him when he increases his pace. He curls his fingers again, just right, just until he hears you sing a strained call of his name. And when he feels your nails scraping down the nape of his neck, and the slight weight of your body convulsing, Armin knows you’re done for.

He’s nice enough to fuck you through your orgasm, shallow thrusts of his fingers bringing you to and down from your high as he watches you pant for him. He presses small kisses against your throat, up, up, up, until he’s kissing you, and carefully pulling his fingers out.

He removes his hand from your neck, and slides it down your waist to offer you support. He’s not prepared for your sudden pull on his neck, forcing him into a kiss that conveys your content; he’s quick to raise his left hand, palm meeting the wall to hold himself up against your sporadic actions, chuckling lightly into your kiss. You were always so reckless and happy after an orgasm.

You kiss him like you have him wrapped your finger despite being the one pleading moments ago. You do, so he supposes it’s not unwarranted; and he welcomes your flirtatious kisses despite the annoying blush they always bring forth.

And sure enough, he can feel his face on fire when you pull away. Armin scoffs internally at himself; he really should be able to keep it together around you by now. But when you kiss him like that, you kind of make it hard to think straight.

“You’re so good when you’re not… pretending to be good,” you hum, a blissful, hazy look on your features as you wrap your arms around his neck.

Armin shakes his head with a chortle of disbelief; leans forward to kiss you again, “’M not pretending. I am good.”

“Yeah, you’re such a good little saint that arguing with your girlfriend turns you on,” you taunt him, “It’s okay, Armin, you can admit it.”

He groans, out of shallow annoyance this time, and it makes you giggle. “Why are you acting like you’re not complicit in this?”

“Oh, no, no, no,” you refute with an exaggerated roll of your eyes, “You get turned on by hearing me talk about biochemistry. I like it when you tell me to shut up about it. We are not the same.”

“Yeah, because you look hot doing it,” he tells you, “Speaking of which, Eren called you hot today, so I kind of need you to slip a neurotoxin in his Gatorade.”

“Aw, Eren thinks I’m hot? Tell him I think he’s hot, too,” you bat your eyelashes at him, but Armin only offers you an unimpressed glare in return.

“I think he might be onto us, actually,” Armin notes, affectionately bumping his nose against yours.

“If he’s onto us, then it’s because you’re the one giving it away, not me.”

“Oh, because you could never do anything wrong, right?”

“Right,” you flash him an overconfident smile before reaching up to kiss to the tip of his nose, “See you’re so smart, baby.”

Armin shakes his head again in disbelief. You’re a handful, he can see that much.

“Come on,” he prompts, “We should go, I still have to finish my lab write up, and I know you haven’t started your paper.”

Armin tries to motion you forward, but is stopped when he feels your hand combing through his hair, and sees the genuine spark of concern in your eyes. “The one for your elective? I thought you said you were going to finish it on Monday.”

“I was,” Armin admits, “But then I didn’t.”

“You want me to help you with it?” you offer kindly, pushing his bangs back and letting your hands fall down the sides of his face, palms resting against his ears.

He nods gently, turning his head to press a kiss into your left palm, before wrapping his hand around your wrist, “I can help you outline your paper.”

You nod in return, and Armin spares one more kiss, before pulling your hand away to lace your fingers together.

Thankfully, nobody’s around to catch you exiting the classroom, or see you holding hands as you make your way out of the building and towards the bus stop. This was Armin’s favorite part of any Tuesday; the one time he could hold your hand on campus without the fear of getting caught by your friends.

He reasons that you guys should probably tell them soon, though, especially if Eren might have an idea of what’s going on. You were bound to get caught sooner rather than later. That, or Eren and Sasha would start meddling.

“If you think Eren knows, then Mikasa definitely knows,” you note, swinging your intertwined hands as you walk through the parking lot as a shortcut.

“Maybe if you actually remembered to hide Soup’s toys, there would be less evidence for her to piece together.”

“Yeah, well, maybe if you didn’t forget when your midterms are, I wouldn’t have to emergency cat sit the hour before Mikasa comes around, and there wouldn’t be any toys to hide in the first place.”

“I’m bad with dates, you know that!” Armin pouts, “I don’t say anything when you forget about ten page papers until four hours before they’re due.”

“You’re saying something right now, actually.”

“That’s not what I—you know, you’re so—”

Armin’s quiet when he feels your lips pressed against his cheekily, “Annoying. I know. You like it. You’re not very good at staying mad for very long.”

Armin’s tempted to roll his eyes yet again—he really needs to quit it, or at the very least, get your own temper under control before it’s irreversible and completely rubbed off on him—but takes the opportunity to kiss your forehead, instead.

“You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Your eyes twinkle under his affections. “And that you love me?”

He nods, “And that I love you.”

“And that you’re gonna fuck me before you make me write my paper when we get home, right?”

Armin chuckles and presses another kiss to your forehead, “We’ll see about that one.”

Hange huffs as they make their way through the parking. They always forget their keys in their office, and always, inconveniently park half-way across the campus. In their defense, this parking lot is free, and the one closest to the Medical Sciences building is not. So, really, capitalism is the one to blame for their frequent late night car lot strolls.

They hear two familiar voices bickering just as they’re about to step into their car, and are more than surprised to see their two favorite students walking together. Walking together and holding hands. Wait—you and Armin are walking together and holding hands?

Hange blinks for a moment, drowning out the sounds of the conversation after they see you two kiss. Their jaw practically falls to the asphalt and they might not blink for a full two minutes as they process what they just saw.

Their trance is broken when it finally, finally clicks together, and Hange has to try their hardest to contain their squeals before sitting in the driver’s seat, an overly forceful slam to the car door following. They waste no time fumbling with the pockets of their lab coat to fish out their phone, and make a call to their favorite math professor.

“Levi, I told you Arlert and (_____) had to know each other outside of class! I think they might be dating! You know what this means, right? I can have them both in the same lab without worrying they might start a chemical fire, and I won’t have to hire two brick heads this summer!”

Levi has never hung up a call more quickly in his life.

[seasteading]

so you're missing a plot

over the course of my 3+ years on writeblr and some time on writing twitter, i’ve noticed that a lot of people can come up with characters and worldbuilding, but then get stuck on creating a compelling plot around those characters. so, here are a few tips that have helped me, and that i hope will help you too!

note: this will apply mostly to fantasy and sci fi, since that's what i write and what tends to have more plot-heavy storylines. 

these are also all my opinions! you don’t have to listen to any of this—all of these are tips that i’ve used in my own experience, and what works for me won’t necessarily work for you.

tone

this is one of the first things you want to decide. even within the same genre, you’re going to have a lot of variety in tone and atmosphere. the kind of plot that works for a fun fantasy adventure romp might feel odd and out of place for a darker fantasy with an emphasis on political intrigue. to figure out what kind of tone works best for your wip in particular, you want to look back at your characters. writing is a massive investment of time and energy, so you want to go in a direction that’s actually interesting to you. this is the very first step, and will help you decide what direction you end up going, and will most importantly give you a hint towards what ending will best suit the story you’re trying to tell. if you go with a more lighthearted tone, then suddenly having a tragic ending won’t make any sense since it’s the equivalent of a bait-and-switch. the same applies for having a darker tone—a happily ever after where everyone lives and gets therapy won’t necessarily fit. 

worldbuilding

worldbuilding is important of course, but it doesn’t need to be completely developed before you start coming up with a plot. in fact, you should try to avoid dumping all of your time into worldbuilding, and instead get the basics down before moving onto the plot. i’m sorry to say it, but you’re not tolkien. you will never be tolkien, and you don’t have to aspire to be like him either. you don’t want to write yourself into a plothole because something in your worldbuilding ends up conflicting with the story, so generally it’s good to have a little bit of wiggle room. sometimes you also run into a situation where the plot itself inspires an important piece of worldbuilding that makes the story richer and more interesting. your worldbuilding is there to enrich your plot and inform your character motivations, not the other way around. however, you do want to establish any rules your world has before getting into the plot, since breaking them can itself become a driving factor in characters and their arcs. this is especially common in fantasy, where a frequent premise lies in the fact that everybody can’t use magic while the protagonist can, or the other way around. this isn’t a plot quite yet, but it can be a good starting point.

character driven vs. plot driven

you will also need to decide the main focus of your story. character-driven writing is common in literary fiction and shorter works, and it’s focused specifically on the internal conflict within characters, as well as their thoughts and personal arcs. few external events are going to happen in character-driven stories, which tend towards more towards slice-of-life where not much really happens but you’re still invested due to the characters. plot-driven writing puts emphasis on (you guessed it!) the plot, and this is a lot more common for longer works. the two can and do certainly overlap, but most works tend to lean a bit more one way or the other, and you can determine this by asking whether you’re more interested in the characters as people or in what happens to them. 

motivation

so now that you have an idea of the direction you want to go, how do you actually come up with your plot? no matter if your story is character driven or plot driven, you still need compelling characters, and one way to find your plot is to look at their motivations. every one of your characters should have something they want to achieve or to obtain. your character’s want is going to be their main driving motivation. something is wrong in their life—if it wasn’t, then you wouldn’t be writing this story—and they think that obtaining what they want will fix it. this can be a macguffin-style quest for an object/place/person, the desire to climb the social ladder, solving the mystery behind a disappearance, etc. at this point, i would recommend taking a look at media with similar character motivations to yours and dissecting them to see what works and what doesn’t. you want to be genre-savvy and know what tropes are common to the type of story you’re telling.

gay is not a plot

repeat after me. gay is not a plot. gay is not a plot. gay is not a plot. there should be something to your wip’s plot other than “they’re gay, what more do you need?” (see this post). a romance isn’t going to be interesting if the characters aren’t interesting on their own, and that requires them to actually have their own motivations which (see motivation) themselves create the basis for a plot! in that same vein, having representation shouldn’t function as your plot or your primary selling point. representation should be a given, and making that the only descriptor for your work essentially boils down your characters to just their marginalization.

retellings

i know retellings of fairytales, myths, and shakespeare’s plays have gotten really popular, especially as of late. retellings are a great starting point since they already give you a base off which to work with, and instead of having to come up with all of your concepts from scratch, it becomes a question of putting your own spin on them. these tend to require some knowledge of the genre and common tropes, which you should have regardless of whether you’re writing a retelling or not. here, instead of having characters and a world first and a plot second, you’re working backwards from an existing work to reinterpret the characters and world surrounding a common plot. the important thing to note is that just because you have a starting point doesn’t mean that your work is done—i’d recommend researching other variations of the story you’re retelling and cataloguing similarities and differences, what works and what doesn’t, and moving things around/restructuring them depending on the changes you yourself want to make in your retelling.

prompts

i actually wouldn’t recommend relying on generators and prompt lists for your plots, since they tend to be extremely vague and difficult to get invested in, since you weren’t the one to come up with them. prompts can be really good for sparking inspiration, though, and once you get an idea for a few scenes, you can build off of them to figure out what circumstances lead to each one and what the pivot points are. prompts are a useful tool, but shouldn’t be used as the basis for your entire story.

final thoughts

if you’re here that means you’ve made it to the end of this behemoth of a post, and hopefully something here was helpful! at this point you should be able to find a premise, but it’s important to note that a premise is not a plot. here is where the real work begins—interweaving your characters and worldbuilding with your storyline, figuring out if there are any holes in your cast or if there are a few darlings you need to cryogenically freeze for now. you don’t need to fill in all of your plotholes; that’s a problem for when you actually have a draft down and more material to work with. for now, focus on creating a storyline that’s interesting to you. most importantly, don’t try to force it. you don’t want to treat a plot as a trope checklist, but instead let it come naturally so it actually fits the story your characters are made to tell.

[ateezmakemeweep]

lights out.

neighbor!yunho

word count: 7k

angst, fluff

you had three requirements when searching for your first apartment: a good location, an all pets allowed policy and access to the rooftop.

it seemed a little unusual, that you’d really find the perfect place, all the other check marks and lovely amenities secured, and just say no because you weren’t able to escape to the roof. 

but it was a place you always found solace in. 

cold nights overlooking the city or warm, spring days in the sun - and when you first moved in a few months ago, overjoyed to check out your new daily view, you saw one of your other neighbors also had an affinity for the rooftop. 

he was softly humming to himself as he looked out over the roof, his tall, broad figure covered in a yellow hoodie. just the profile of his face alone had your cheeks warming, faded light blue hair peeking out from under his hood.

a peaceful look covered his face, all the light in eyes and softness of his features making him look boyish and sweet. 

and then as if he sensed your presence, or more like your fascinated stare of admiration, he looked to you and his lips pulled into a bright smile. 

“hi.”

you bit down on your lip at the realization you got caught, a slight blush on your cheeks as you shot the handsome stranger a shy smile. 

“hi,” you said softly, your eyes moving from him to the view behind - all very picturesque and pretty, tall skyscrapers and a clear, blue summer sky. “i’m sorry if i interrupted you.”

“not at all,” he hummed, his arms crossed carelessly over the edge. 

an awkward silence hung in the air, unsure if you should stay grounded in your place or make a move closer to him; you chose the former, in case the handsome stranger was weirded out by your closeness - but he seemed to take it another way.

“are you scared?”

your eyebrows pulled together at the teasing smirk on his face, an interesting contrast to the slightest hint of concern in his eyes. 

“of what?” you ask in confusion, looking from the view to his cute, questioning face. “you?”

a smile crosses his face that has your heart jumping in your chest, the sun shining down on him and proving that he really is just as perfect as he seems even from afar. 

“i was thinking more the heights or the view but i guess the fact that you’re on the roof with a stranger could be scary too.”

an awkward chuckle leaves your mouth, not so much because of his comment but because you don’t know how you’ve managed to develop a crush on this man in less than 60 seconds. 

you hesitantly make your way over, your eyes shining with nerves and slight amusement. 

“actually, i’ll have you know, access to the rooftop was one of my three requirements for getting a place.”

“oh yeah?” he asks, a smile on his face as he turns his body toward you. “did you just move in?”

he’s pressed up against the concrete without a care in the world, eyes roaming your face and not once dipping toward your dress-covered body. 

“i did,” you smile, “about an hour ago.”

“no shit,” he smiles, the profanity leaving his mouth a stark contrast to the sweet smile on his face. he makes his way over to you, his large form towering over you making you swallow nervously - he’s far too handsome and big, two factors proving to be a major weakness for you.

“i’m yunho, apartment 304.”

“y/n,” you smile, the way it lights up your face making yunho’s heart jump in his chest - you’re even prettier looking this happy and excited. “apartment 305.”

you should’ve known then that the handsome man on the rooftop was gonna turn out to be the kindest neighbor you’ve ever had. 

he welcomed you into the building with open arms, invited you to a dinner party with his friends mingi, wooyoung and san who also lived on the same floor as you two. 

he was always quiet and considerate of the people around him, making sure his tv and music was low by the time 9:00 came around - and even when it wasn’t, you couldn’t help but mind because it was always sweet, soothing tones of comedic chatter or soft pop music. 

he always lended you extra butter or milk when you needed, the first time he saw you in your messy ponytail and pastel pink apron the time he realized he might have a little crush on you.

that the times he got excited seeing you down in the lobby or in the elevator were more than just his heart having random palpitations. 

the knock on his door that day was soft in a distinct pattern of two, opening up his embarrassingly messy apartment to see you standing there with flour in your hair and a sheepish smile on your face. 

“hi neighbor,” you smiled sweetly, your small hand with chipped nail polish waving to him. “do you have an extra egg you can spare?” 

“depends,” he smiles, leaning his head against the doorframe cooly. “what are you making with it?”

“pumpkin bread,” you inform him cheerfully, just about the only festive, fall food you’re able to make apart from sweet potato soup. 

“ooh that sounds good,” he smiles, his large hand ushering you inside. “come on in. excuse the mess.”

it was your first time stepping inside his apartment, messy and properly lived in but a nice, clean scent in the air - like laundry, home and men’s cologne. 

he had a large sectional to fit his crazy group of friends he told you about once in the hallway, a large tv perched on the wall and a small dining room table with rickety folding chairs.  

you could tell immediately that it was an apartment that was like a home rather than a house, the same type of warmth in it that shines through the man taller than his own refrigerator. 

“i wish i could say my apartment isn’t always this messy but that’d be a lie,” he says, one egg in hand as he makes his way over to you. he looks down at you with a smile, his eyes going back to the cute little apron adoring your body. 

“that’s okay, so is mine,” you say, far too guilty of skipping your sunday cleaning day for the past three weeks.

you can’t help the way your eyes trail over his soft brown ones, everything about him and his aura only making you develop a stronger crush on him. he just seemed like such a sweet and genuine person, always looking out for you and going out of his way to send you a smile. 

no one has ever made you feel so welcomed in a new place before nor have you ever seen someone with such a sweet, soft smile and kind eyes.

“so just one egg?” he finally asks, breaking the silence and the way your eyes roam over each other intensely. 

“i.. oh- yes! yes, thank you, just one,” you stutter out, taking the cold egg from his large hand. you never noticed how nice his hands were either, veiny and large with long fingers and clean nails. 

there doesn’t seem to be anything about this man that isn’t perfect, apart from maybe his disaster of an apartment. 

“i’ll be sure to bring you a piece of bread when i’m finished,” you say sweetly, the man smiling down at you teasingly causing your heart to jump.

“and if you burn down the complex?” 

a mock gasp leaves your mouth as you hit him lightly, his soft chuckle ringing through the air as he watches you turn to leave his apartment. 

“forget it then!” you squeal jokingly, knowing right when it’s done, you’ll be rushing over to make sure it’s still nice and warm for him.

his eyes linger on the bounce of your hair and your messily tied apron as you disappear into the hall, letting out a small sigh when he feels the remaining hints of butterflies in his stomach. 

“are you ever gonna tell her?” his best friend mingi asked, the two of them going down to san’s for thanksgiving dinner a few weeks later. “you’ve known her for three months now. that’s a reasonable amount of time to have a crush, she wouldn’t be weirded out.”

“i know but we haven’t really like... talked talked, you know,” the tall boy explains, a bowl of mashed potatoes in hand. “we have... neighborly chats in the hallway or in the elevator, sometimes even on the roof if we’re both there, but we really don’t know each other that way.”

“okay and that’s what a date is for, the fuck?” his younger friend spats, a small chuckle leaving his mouth; he wishes it really were that easy for him. 

“do you just wanna give her eggs and sugar for the rest of your life?”

the tall boy lets out a sigh as he looks at his friend, the dramatic, playful flair of his body causing him to bite back a smile.

“and it’s obvious she doesn’t have a boyfriend, you would’ve seen him coming and going by now,” mingi continues, their loud footsteps stomping further and further down the hall. “you really have nothing to lose.”

but he kind of has everything to lose. 

he likes being the friendly neighbor you can get eggs from or see on the rooftop. 

he likes being the person who’s made you comfortable here, helping as you adjust to a new, intimidating setting.

he likes being a friend to you, one that genuinely cares for you and doesn’t have any ulterior motives because he may or may not have feelings for you. 

“i don’t know, maybe one day,” yunho says, knocking on san’s apartment door with his free hand. “but today is not that day. today is not the day i confess my tiny, small, minuscule crush to-”

the door opening causes his words to halt, potatoes nearly slipping from his grasp when he sees your smiling face and the light brown sweater dress clinging to your body. 

“y/n,” he smiles, shocked but pleasantly surprised to see you here. “hi. i-i didn’t know you’d be here.”

san comes out from behind you less than a second later, throwing a friendly arm around your shoulder as he smiles at him connivingly - yunho knew he was gonna regret letting his little crush on you slip when he and san went out and got shit-faced at dinner together. 

“i heard she made delicious pumpkin bread so she had to make the cut,” san said, bumping your arm teasingly when you turn to narrow your eyes at him.

“oh? you heard i made good pumpkin bread?” you question, remembering the events from a few weeks ago very differently. “or you demanded to be let into my house for a bite after you smelt it through the walls?”

“eh, tomato, tomahto,” he says quickly, ushering in mingi and yunho who are holding in their loud, contagious chuckles. “come in, we’re fucking starving waiting for your slow asses.”

you catch yunho’s soft gaze moving to you, smiling at him sweetly and heart fluttering rapidly when he smiles back.

“hi, neighbor. surprised to see you here.”

“yeah,” you chuckle out awkwardly, not wanting the man to think you’re intruding on him and his friends after your short time knowing them. “i hope it’s okay. once san smelt the bread and heard i wasn’t doing anything for the holidays, he kind of, basically, insisted that i-”

“oh, no, no, i’m... i’m happy you’re here,” he says, his words rushed out and awkward but full of sincerity. “i’m really happy to see you here.”

your heart jumps at the sentiment, a soft blush on your cheeks that you’re somehow ignorant to on his face as well. you bite down on your lip to control your smile, giving him a small nod before offering to take the potatoes from his hands. 

when you turn to bring the bowl over to the dining room table, your back to the two giant boys watching your retreating form, you miss the way yunho’s blush becomes darker. 

you miss mingi elbowing his friend obnoxiously and mimicking his cute, flustered “i- i’m really happy to see you,” resulting in yunho elbowing his friend back roughly.

he’s able (aka cuts off, both, wooyoung and san) to secure a seat next to you at dinner a few moments later.

he tries to ignore the way your elbows bump all night, the two of you awkwardly giggling and apologizing with soft smiles before finally allowing your arms to just... touch. 

remain close to one another and find comfort in the way your skin is warm and soft on each other.

he tries to ignore the way your fingers graze as you wash the dishes and he dries them later that night, what feels like electric sparks shooting through your skin every time you touch.

“that was really good,” you tell yunho softly, your eyes observing the boys throwing left over remnants of food at each other or picking through the netflix movie selection. “you guys are good cooks.”

“like your bread wasn’t demolished in three minutes,” yunho huffs, pride and assurance in his tone that causes you to smile sheepishly; there’s a few beats of silence, embarrassed by the compliment, before he begins to speak again.

“our first thanksgiving together was also the first away from our families,” he shares quietly, ignoring the way his heart jumps as he takes a plate from you. “we didn’t know what the hell we were doing and completely fucked up the turkey.”

you let out a giggle as he recalls the disaster that was thanksgiving day two years ago, airing out the smokey apartment and waiting for their thanksgiving feat of chinese food. 

“well you guys definitely redeemed yourself, it was all very good,” you compliment proudly, a pretty smile stretched across your face. “one of my best thanksgivings.”  

“did your family not celebrate?” he asks absentmindedly, watching the way your face falls for a split second before masked by a small smile. 

“not really,” is all you share, both of you quickly pulled away by wooyoung’s incessant demands to “hurry up so we can bust out the second desserts.”

you both try to ignore the slight tension in the air as you walk back to your apartments that night, arms bumping and soft giggles echoing through the walls. 

it feels as if the night shouldn’t end yet, like you guys have been talking in this hallway for hours upon hours because neither of you wanna go inside and separate yet. 

a couple of nosy onlookers can’t help but observe the scene, your back pressed against the wall as you talk animatedly about your journey for a pet.

“i wanted a cat but i also want a dog,” you tell him, the light in your eyes as you talk about the possibility of orange tabby cats and golden retrievers. “maybe i’ll get both one day.”

yunho’s smiling down at you with such a fond softness in his eyes, like he’s hanging onto each and every word you say no matter how small or casual.

“they’ll be dating by next,” san says, bumping his arm into mingi playfully. 

“nah,” the taller boy says, knowing that while his friend definitely likes you, he’s slower and shyer when it comes to romantic feelings. “give it two months. and that’s if we’re lucky.”

you never considered yourself to be a lucky person, although luck seemed to be on your side when you found this apartment complex in the first place, so you can’t say you’ve been cursed with terrible luck. 

but it’s certainly how you feeling right now, in the dead of a january snowstorm and one of the only apartments in the complex with absolutely no power.

“it could be a problem with your breaker in particular,” the maintenance man said over the phone, “someone could come look at it tomorrow.”

but no power meant no heat despite the negative temperatures outside, all of your freshly cooked food rotting spoiled and no means of communicating with your cell phone currently on 1%. 

“tomorrow?” you squeak, understanding the horrific conditions outside are making their job difficult but also not wanting to freeze to death. “would it be possible if someone could come-”

your phone light shines on your face before it promptly fades to black and dies, the only source of illumination in your dark apartment now gone as well. 

you let out a sigh as you resist the urge to scream, attempting to move around your apartment without impaling your body parts.

you’re able to light the three wick candle on your table with little to no problems, collecting all the blankets and fuzzy socks you can find and placing them on your couch.

you have a long, cold night ahead of you with nothing to do but an attempt at rereading some old books and forcing yourself to sleep. 

but it’s then, right before you sit down, that you remember all of the food in your fridge. 

you used every last bit of your ingredients for this week’s meal prep, knowing that if you it goes bad, you’re not gonna have that much around the house until next week’s trip to the grocery store. 

you guess that’s on you, though, foolishly forgetting to not go to the food store before a massive winter storm.

you notice a faint stream of light coming from under your front door on your journey to the kitchen, lips pursing to the side before you open it up with a squeak. 

you peek over at yunho’s door besides yours to see light coming from underneath his - so he didn’t lose power it seems, the lucky bastard. 

it takes you just as long to convince yourself to go over and ask if you can store the food in his fridge as it does to pack it all up into two containers, not wanting to inconvenience yunho and his storage any further than you are by asking. 

you reluctantly knock on his door with the two containers in hand, forgetting you already have on about three layers due to your freezing apartment. 

a smile immediately lights up his face when he sees you standing outside his door, small and cute and bundled up like you’re ready to brave the snow storm outside. 

“hi, y/n,” he smiles, noticing the two containers of food in your hand. 

“hi, yunho i’m sorry for bothering you,” you begin apologetically, a slight grimace on your face as you prepare yourself to ask him for a favor.

“i lost power for the night and just meal prepped the rest of my food for the week yesterday so would you be able to keep this in your fridge for me?” you get out quickly, for some reason feeling panicked and grimy. 

“someone’s gonna come fix it tomorrow but when i tried to ask someone to come tonight, my phone died and now i just don’t want this to go to waste because i stupidly forgot to-”

“hey, hey, relax,” yunho says calmingly, his voice all kinds of sweet and soft as he takes the food from your hands immediately. “of course, y/n, no problem.”

you smile at him gratefully, slightly embarrassed by the desperation in your tone.

“thank you, i promise i’ll be back tomorrow to pick it up. i just don’t want everything rotting overnight.” 

the wind howling outside causes both your eyes to widen, a sinking suspicion coming over him after he hears the horribly stormy conditions outside.

“wait... does that mean you have no heat?”

“no, i found a lot of blankets and fuzzy socks though,” you chuckle out humorlessly, gesturing down to your ridiculously layered outfit and purple socks. “also found some candles so as long as my food is taken care of, i don’t think it’ll be that-”

“stay with me, are you crazy,” he says, his eyes looking at you in disbelief. “you can’t sit there in the dark and freezing cold all night!”

“it’s okay, yunho, really,” you quickly insist, about ready to take off and into your apartment because you know how overwhelmingly nice your neighbor is. “i just didn’t want my food for the week to go to-”

“y/n, please,” he begs, the soft, sympathetic look in his eyes tugging at your heart. “it’s too cold tonight. even with blankets, you’ll be freezing. and your phone died, that’s dangerous.”

a small, touched smile covers your face, heart warming at how kind and thoughtful this man is - how could you not have the biggest crush on him still? 

you thought after a few weeks that you’d be over it but he just makes it harder and harder the more you get to know him. 

“i don’t wanna intrude,” you weakly protest, the heat coming from his apartment far too tempting right now.

“you’re not, i’m inviting you,” he says, dragging you in by the sleeve of your sweater and leave no room for protest. 

he places the food back in your hold before his large hand rests on the open front door, peeking his head into the hallway to see your door still open.

you watch as he walks into the hallway before quickly reappearing a few seconds later, the sound of your apartment door closing echoing through the hallway. 

“don’t worry,” he hums, smiling at you as he walks back into his apartment and closes the door. “i blew out your candle.”

you let out a soft, amused giggle as you look at the boy, his sweet smile mirroring yours as he takes back the food and walks toward the fridge. 

“got any 4s?”

“go fish.”

“got any 7s?”

“go fish.”

“got any aces?”

“go fish.”

“okay, one of us has to be lying!” you squeal from the other side of the coffee table, yunho throwing his head back in laughter at your competitive, feisty side.

he couldn’t help but smile at the way your eyes lit up when you saw the pack of cards on his table, leftover from poker night with the san, mingi and wooyoung that rid him of his last $50. 

his smile only grew wider when you told him the one family tradition you had, at least before the age of ten, was to play go fish - especially on nights when the electricity was turned off, although you left that part out. 

in all your experience of playing go fish, however, you’d never seen a game go on for this long. 

“i’m not, i swear!” 

“so you’re telling me the one four i need is in that deck?” you ask, not even realizing you outed yourself until he throws you a wide-eyed, playful look. there’s a silent stare-off, able to hear a pin drop in his apartment. 

your eyes are  roaming each other carefully before down to the deck in complete ignorance of who’s turn it is to go. 

you let out a squeal when chaos erupts afterward, the two of you frantically grabbing at the cards. you make a mess over the table as everything goes flying off, a melodic giggle leaving your mouth nearly causing him to stop his futile attempts at grabbing the next card.

it should be considered unsportsmanlike, really, for you to unknowingly use your cute giggle and wide, happy eyes against him. 

you just get even happier when you grab at the desired card, flipping it over and letting out a squeal when you’re lucky enough to flip over the last remaining four in the deck.

“i got it!” you squeal happily, yunho at a terrible loss as he sees all your matches lined up in front of you. he can’t even be sad about it though, accepting defeat as he throws down his cards. 

“that was probably the longest game of go fish ever,” he says, stretching out his long arms; you guys had played several rounds but that one had to have lasted over forty five minutes.

probably because you two kept getting distracted, babbling about stories of friends and family or the real pet fish yunho won at a fair that lived for three and a half years. 

“i know right,” you giggle, picking up the cards from the floor as you start to tidy up his house. you ignore his pleas to leave it alone and let him clean up instead, your head shaking as you continue to clean the mess you helped make.

you hand him the deck a card a few moments later, your fingers grazing as he takes them from his hand. 

“thanks,” he smiles at you, his eyes roaming your slightly flushed face. 

he’s never had you in his apartment for longer than ten minutes, never had you so close to him with your bright smile and cute giggle. it’s proving to be very trying for him already, trying to keep you entertained and himself distracted so he doesn’t do something, or say something, he regrets. 

a silence hangs in the air as you look up at from your spot on the couch, about to make a comment about something, anything, when your stomach decides to do it for you in the form of a growl.

it’s embarrassing and makes an awkward giggle leave your mouth, a handsome smirk crossing his face as his eyebrow quirks up playfully.

“hungry?”

“just for a snack,” you mumble shyly, in disbelief you’re still hungry after your left over pizza. “i ate about four slices of pizza before.”

he lets out a low chuckle as he rises to his feet, sock-covered feet padding over to see kitchen where he holds up a big tub of chocolate chip cookie dough. 

“wanna make cookies? i was prepared for the storm tonight, unlike some of us.”

you’re so excited at the prospect of making cookies that you ignore his snide, teasing comment, letting out a happy gasp as you rush over to him. 

the two of you stand side-by-side as you prep the oven and cookies, rolling the cold dough between your hands. he makes the cookies a lot bigger than yours, an obvious difference in who made which ones on the baking sheet.

“they kind of look like us,” he remarks playfully, a loud giggle leaving your mouth as you poke his arm.

you two linger in the kitchen once the cookies are in the oven, sharing shy smiles and softly spoken words with the scent of chocolate and warmth in the air. 

you thank him again for allowing you to stay in his warm house for the night, grateful for his ample food and running refrigerator. 

“it’s kind of crazy since we’re literal neighbors,” you speak aloud, your hip leant against the cabinets. “i didn’t even know that could happen.”

“i know, right,” he chuckles, his smile and eyes getting softer as he looks down at you. “but i’m happy you decided to stay. i wouldn’t want you there alone in the dark and cold.”

and perhaps that’s the bare minimum. that someone wouldn’t want their neighbor, someone considered an acquaintance or even a friend, to be without heat or food in a snowstorm. 

but to you, it’s something you’ve never had before. 

you’d spent far too many nights cold and hungry where nobody cared if that was the case. it’s why you so often escaped to the rooftop, away from the loud voices and looming presences that made living there just a little too difficult.  

it’s why you blurt out, “why?” not meaning to sound as brash and sudden as you do but it’s just something that gets to you sometimes. how kind and thoughtful and genuinely good jeong yunho is.

his eyebrows pull together but he’s still wearing a soft smile, his body inching just a little bit closer to you.

“what do you mean why?” he questions, cocking his head to the side like a confused puppy. “why didn’t i let you freeze to death?”

he tries to keep his tone light and teasing but feels like it falls flat when you give him a sad smile. he thinks it would’ve fooled anyone else, a person who basically hadn’t fallen in love with your smile in five months, but it doesn’t fool him. 

he doesn’t know what or why something is bothering you, how your mood seemed to change after his reassurance, but he just wants to make sure, above all, that you’re okay and comfortable. 

he doesn’t realize how close his body is to yours until you’re looking up at him, your head just meeting the top of his chest in a way that makes him wanna protect you even more. 

his eyes roam every part of your face, wondering just how warm your skin is or if your hair is as soft as it looks. 

this would probably be the perfect time to confess his feelings to you. 

to tell you that he wanted you over tonight because he likes you. that he’s really, really come to like you over these past few months of getting to know you and he wants to know you more.

he wants to take you on a date and show you off to the world and maybe one day, if things go well, introduce you as his neighbor turned girlfriend.

he wants to make sure you’re never cold or alone in your apartment again, that you know you could always come to him for anything whether it be reassurance or an egg for pumpkin bread. 

but instead, he gives a slightly less intense, cheesy version. for now.

“you’re my favorite neighbor,” he begins quietly, not quite the confession he wants to make right now but the one he settles on. there’s an aroma of cookies and heat around you as you stare up at him, eyes so wide and curious, he has to swallow down a second rushed out, bumbling confession. 

“i didn’t want anything happening to you, especially when i’m right here to make sure you’re safe.”

safety is always what you craved. safety and security and warmth, even if just for a fleeting moment. 

and your fleeting moment proved to be tonight. 

the ding of the oven as you both got the cookies out silently, pulled from a moment you both felt forming but was quickly pulled away from. you ate the gooey chocolate with quiet hums of “mmms,” and “ahhs,” softly padding your way over to his couch when he suggested watching a movie. 

he sat on one end and you sat on the other, before your bodies eventually inched closer and closer to share a light blue throw blanket in the middle of the movie. 

“this is really nice,” you comment as you touched the fabric, observing the intricate stitching on the soft blanket. 

“yeah? my mom made it for me actually,” he tells you, watching closely as you play with the blanket between your fingers. he wants to reach out and just hold your hand, feel your smaller one in his and see just how much they fit. 

“when i first moved out, she was slightly distraught,” he chuckles out, remembering the dramatics that were his mom’s tears and demands to visit once a week. “i was the first one to move out and she didn’t know what to make of it. i swear she brought me over food every day for the first six months.”

your heart feels heavy as you hear him talk, not only because of the fond moments between parent and child but because of the love in his eyes as he talks about it. 

how, even though he’s complaining about it, it’s obvious there’s a love and affection there that you, yourself, could never understand or reciprocate in your own life. 

“that’s really sweet,” you comment, his gaze catching that sad smile once again.

it causes his heart to drop, a slight sinking feeling in his stomach as he tries to understand what made you that way. are you uncomfortable here with him, just a few inches away from each other under the shared blanket?

or is it something more, the topic of conversation regarding parents and living alone and all things deeper and more personal. 

“me and my parents were never really closed,” you find yourself saying. 

you don’t even mean to blurt out the words but it’s like one second it’s silent and then the next, it’s not. 

the next you’re telling him about how you couldn’t wait to get out. how fighting and loneliness and the cold was a big part of your life growing up, how you got so used to it, it’s taken you a while to adjust to a normal life.

you’re still trying to adjust to a normal life, honestly. 

“i don’t know why i just told you all of that,” you confess awkwardly, the blush on your cheeks causing his heart to soar in chest - he likes you, he really really likes you and now he won’t ever be able to let go of these feelings. 

“but... i just wanna thank you,” you tell him, embarrassed that you somehow managed to make the conversation and vibe like this. “you and san and wooyoung and mingi made the adjustment a lot easier for me. but you, especially.”

“oh? with all my eggs and sugar?”

you let out a soft giggle as some of your anxiety eases, your eyes flicking toward his to see, despite his teasing, his eyes are 100% serious and locked on you. 

“yes, definitely that,” you smile, biting down on your lip as you look back down on the blanket. 

“but amongst other things too. it was funny meeting you on the rooftop, actually, because that’s always where i felt most comfortable. i’d always escape there but i’d be alone. it was nice... it’s been nice having someone, i guess.”

it feels like you could just about die from embarrassment, oversharing with the most handsome man you’ve developed a massive crush on about your tragic tales of a broken home and pretentious love for the roof. 

but then he inches just a bit closer to you, placing his hand atop yours on his mother’s soft blanket, and just smiles at you. everything about him warm and soft and sweet, making you feel the safest and coziest you’ve ever felt in your life. 

“if you’ll keep allowing me up there, i promise i’ll come every time,” he promises softly, the pounding in your chest and butterflies in your stomach overwhelming you to the severest degree.

your cheeks are burning and you’re positive he can feel the frantic beating in your chest but you try to keep it together. smile at him with a a breathy little giggle, tell him that while you love that he’s asking, you have no control over who does and doesn’t go on the roof. 

he lets out a soft chuckle as he pinches your arm gently, the hand on your arm slowly falling down until your fingers are just grazing. 

closer and closer and closer until they’re locked around one another, both of you eternally grateful for the lights being off because of the burning on your cheeks.

he wakes up around 2 a.m. to the bright tv blasting, a heavy ache in his bladder and your head on his shoulder. 

it takes him a moment to remember where he is and what’s going on around him, the events of the night quickly swarming back when he peeks down at your sleeping face.

you look so peaceful and at ease in your sleep, eyelashes brushing against your cheeks and your lips pressed into a firm line. 

he wanted to kiss you for half the night, every time you giggled or moved closer to him or asked him a question about the movie getting distracted by your lips or pink cheeks.

he felt an immense amount of happiness at the fact you allowed yourself to be vulnerable with him, that you were still here beside him and so comfortably sleeping against him. 

told him things about your life and family that make him wanna be there for you even more now.

he doesn’t wanna move, he doesn’t think even the snowstorm crashing through his apartment could get him to tear himself away from you, but the embarrassment of pissing his pants right beside you on this couch outweighs everything.

his eyes roam your pretty, peaceful face on more time, moving a stray piece of hair with his long fingers and watching as you stir. press yourself further into his hand and let out the quietest of groans, he has to stop himself from proclaiming his undying love for you on the spot. 

it only gets worse when he remembers he gave you his clothes to wear. noticing just before the movie ended, you were picking at your leggings that stuck to your skin uncomfortably. 

“do you want a change of clothes?” he had asked, noticing your discomfort and only wanting a little bit to see how much his shirts engulfed you. “i have sweatpants and a clean t-shirt sitting in my dryer right now.”

you took up his offer for two reasons: your leggings were sticking to your ass and there was nothing you wanted more than to wear this man’s clothes. feel the soft material on your skin and have his manly, teakwood scent surround your very being.

but right now, as he stares down at you and attempts to keep you as comfortable as possible, it feels as if this might’ve been too much for him. 

seeing you wrapped up in his clothes and on his couch so comfortably, moving your smaller body so you’re laid out on the cushions and resting your head on the pillow.

your eyes pop open, confused and in a daze, as you look around at the unfamiliar surroundings and sound of movement. you smile softly when you see yunho’s sleepy, pink face at face-level with you, his large body knelt down beside you on the couch.

“sorry for waking you,” he whispered into the dark, the tv and snow reflecting outside the only source of light. “i had to pee and wanted to make you comfortable.”

“it’s okay, thank you,” you mumble, stretching out your arms when you realize the sleeves are well past your hands. “forgot i changed into your clothes.”

“yeah,” he chuckles lightly, not being able to help the way his eyes roam over you. 

even sleepy in the dark and the daze that you’re in, you’re able to see the slightest bit of hunger in his eyes. the way they trail over your body slowly and surely, taking in the way his shirt engulfs your figure and looks against your skin. 

how if you stood up, he’d see the way the pants are baggy and making your smaller figure looking even more short and petite and cute.

it makes your stomach flip and swoop uncontrollably, your own eyes staring at his lips and picturing what they’d feel like on yours. 

“i hope that’s okay. they’re a little big on you.”

you let out a soft, quiet giggle, adjusting your head on the pillow so you’re staring up at him even closer. 

“it’s okay,” you assure, tongue peeking out to lick at your dry, hopefully not crusty lips. “i like it. i like them.”

it takes everything in him not to let out some sort of growl, throw all of his sweet and nice boy caution to the wind and confess to you how much he likes them too. 

how much he likes seeing you in them and how much more (or less) he wants to see you in them. 

but because the time isn’t right, because he knows for sure the time isn’t right and he wants something a lot more pure and honest with you, he doesn’t say anything. 

he wishes you a goodnight after a nearly ten-minute bickering fest back and forth, yunho offering you his bed three times before you eventually flipped over and put your back to him.

he let out a deep chuckle as he ran his hand through your hair instinctively, smoothing out the parts that stuck up in your sleep, before bidding you one final goodnight. 

it was around 10:00 when he woke to the smell of bacon, eggs and pumpkin bread. walking out of his bedroom to see you there still clad in his clothes and your hair in a messy bun. 

you jumped when you noticed his presence perched against the doorframe, a wide smile on his face when you let out the softest but harshest of curses. 

“what’s all this?” 

“i made you breakfast. and your very own loaf of pumpkin bread.”

a soft smile covers his face when instead of looking over the food that looks and smells delicious, he looks at you. standing there smiley and sweet, in clothes that morph your body and make you smell like him. 

he feels grateful for the extra bit of counter space he has when he places a hand on your waist, lifting you off your feet with ease and plopping you right down on the granite. 

your eyes are wide and your heart is racing but you’re staring right at him, happiness and excitement swelling in your chest when you catch the look in his eyes - you thought you made it up last night in a dream-like daze but you’re still seeing it right now.

a certain kind of softness mixed with desire and fondness, the way his eyes take in every part of your face before finally landing on your lips. the very same way you dreamed of him last night, with his lips against yours and a sweet smile on his face.

“thank you, neighbor,” he mumbles with a smile, voice low and deep and making your stomach swoop dangerously. “did i mention you were my favorite?”

“you might’ve,” you respond breathlessly, all too aware of the way he’s leaning in closer and closer until you’re pushed flush against the cabinets. 

his large body is covering yours but he doesn’t make any moves until you do, your bodies naturally drifting closer and closer together until, finally, you’re the one to do it.

press your lips against his so so hesitantly, scared and unfamiliar about making the first move but wanting him to know you wanted to kiss him - you needed to kiss him, or you would’ve gone crazy.

he smiles against your lips as he deepens the kiss, keeping you perched right on the counter as his hands rest on the sides of your legs. he doesn’t make any moves to touch you further or deepen the kiss, allowing it to be sweet and soft and as chaste as could be. 

you both pull back and stare at each other with soft smiles and pink cheeks, silence lingering between the both of you before you let out soft chuckles at the same time.

“do you kiss all your neighbors?” you finally ask, fighting the smirk threatening to make it’s way on your face. “or just your favorite ones?”

“just one,” he says, tapping the tip of your nose gently and feeling his heart jump when you smile widely at him. “just you.”

it’s 2:00 on the snowy rooftop and bright summer sun when you hear the heavy metal door squeak open, turning around to see your handsome, smiley neighbor coming toward you with two mugs of hot chocolate in hand. 

you take it from him with a soft “thank you,” pressing up on your toes to peck a sweet, soft kiss to his cheek. 

it was only fitting that you had your first date where you two first met, shy smiles and nervous jitters turned soft pecks and loud giggles as you got to know the sweet, handsome neighbor you just knew you were gonna fall for.  

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