#plot: let's light it up like dynamite

[narislvr]

domestic!ellie who finds herself being completely smitten by you during your weekly movie night. ✧.*

a short and quick one-shot ౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹

Palestine resources !!

DVD's litter the mahogany coffee table in messy arrays of colors and titles as you search for a specific disc for tonight's movie night. It wasn't a movie you and ellie had watched together yet, but you knew it was somewhere in your collection as you hunched over the edge, eyeing each and every disc the two of you owned.

"does it really take this long to pick a movie, babe?" ellie would tease, clicking her tongue as she set down two of your blankets on the couch behind you before crossing her forearms over the crown of your head and resting her chin on them. a huff leaves your lips at her comment as you tilt your head upwards, her playful gaze meeting yours through your lashes and her messy bangs.

"hey, you choose the same movie every week. You have absolutely no room to talk," you quip back, a fond look in your eyes as you watch her chuckle in amusement before glancing back down and finally spotting the DVD you had been searching for. "aha! found it!" you cheer, holding the disc up for ellie to see.

"...mama-mia? babe, I swear if this is one of those musicals you like.-"

"you'll love it. promise." you interrupt, a giddy chime in your voice as you carefully shake her off and get up to insert the beloved disc into the waiting dvd player. seeing your excitement, ellie only shook her head while letting out a playful overdramatic sigh.

"atleast pick up your mess first."

──

so maybe ellie did "love" it, but not because of the plot nor the abundance of ABBA classics. Instead it was because of the way it seemed to bring you so much joy as you smiled from ear to ear and you sang along to each and every song while commenting on little parts of the movie she otherwise wouldn't have picked up on. it was endearing, and although you were generally a rather bright person, she couldn't help but admire the genuine light in your eyes as you watched the film she had learned was your favorite.

her sketchbook was on her lap, her gaze flickering from you down to the page every so often as she scribbled down little doodles of you singing or mimicking certain actions from the characters on screen. you were too busy attempting to harmonize with "donna and the dynamites" to super trooper, that you didn't notice the way her attention was solely on you as she drew a portrait of your side profile. the light from the screen illuminated your features, accentuating the curves and edges of your face with a soft glow that she swore made you look almost ethereal. in the moment you were her muse, regardless of whether your voice cracked or went off key, and all she wanted to do was capture this moment and live in it forever.

"you're not paying attention, els." she hears you whine as your attention finally shifts back to ellie who was still sketching away in her sketchbook.

"Of course I am," she responds, looking up at the screen for a second and realizing she didn't actually know what was going on as she watched sophie help one of the three men crawl out of under a table. you raise a brow at her and she gives you a sheepish smile in return as she puts her sketchbook to the side and signals for you to lean closer to her to which you happily ablige.

"doesn't seem like it," you hum, sneaking a glance at the open book at ellies side before shifting slightly to rest your head against her chest. her arm wraps around your waist, her fingers gently resting on your stomach as she presses a kiss to your forehead.

"but I am, promise." she responds, deciding to finally pay attention to the film despite her fingers itching to finish her drawing. It was a habit she had picked up during her time with Joel, always sketching little pictures of things she found interesting in the films and writing down quotes she would later recite to the older man whenever there was a chance to reference them. she found herself doing that less nowadays but it was still something she enjoyed doing, especially in special situations like these where it was you she was drawing instead.

as the movie neared it's end, she found that maybe she could appreciate the plot even if it was rather odd in her opinion. your singing had quieted down to small hums as you slowly began to drift off against ellie's chest, the rise and fall of her chest lulling you into a sense of comfort despite your attempts to stay awake until the end of the movie. she would definitely tease you about it tomorrow morning, especially after all the times you swore you'd stay up despite your track record of falling asleep. It was cute, a sweet moment she wouldn't replace with anything in the world.

she brushes a stray strand of hair from your face, a fond look in her eyes at her feather light touch before she carefully reaches for her sketchbook with the hand that wasn't holding you to her.

she flips it open to the page she had been drawing on before scribbling something down in messy handwriting under your portrait.

"Mamma mia, here I go again ,, My, my, how can I resist you?"

it was dumb, and the song didn't necessarily fit the situation, but she knew you'd get a kick out of it the day she'd finally show you the sketchbook filled with pictures of you.

[airxn]

𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐗𝐍 . an independent dual oc rp blog featuring the twins airin and xavier. two retired mercenaries who've settled in nyc to work for the infamous supernatural bar– the gear shift. featuring aus: borderlands, legend of zelda, dc, fallout, dnd, and more!

edited in after effects by luri | blonde dynamite by caravan palace transcription under the cut

00:00 – Video begins. Blonde Dynamite by Caravan Palace begins to play. The background that is throughout the video is a city with white lights and a dark gray background. It fades into view.

00:02 – Text that reads "AIRXN - independent oc rp blog" pops onto the screen.

00:05 – Transition to text that reads "Featuring: Airin – shape-shifter, founder, lil' shit". Images of Airin as a felicid (golden canid creature with a mane) and as a human (a golden blond bitch) transition through the screen to the beat.

00:11 – Transition to text that reads "And his brother: Xavier – soul eater, anti-social bastard". Images of Xavier (very handsome man with long, black hair) transition across the screen.

00:15 – In the center of the screen an image of human Airin and Xavier together pops in. The text "wicked" and "wired" appear on the screen to the beat.

00:17 – Image of human Airin pops up on the left. The text "semi-selective" slides in from screen from the right.

00:19 – Image of a snarling felicid Airin pops into the center of the screen. On the left the text "canon friendly" pops in with the beat. The text "in love with ocs" pops on the right with the beat.

00:22 – Image of snarling felicid Airin pops forward to reveal his dullas (purple, frill-like appendages that shake rapidly). The image slides downward.

00:23 – Image of Xavier lounging slides down from the top of the screen. The text "multi-para" transitions onto the screen.

00:24 – The prior image flips to a monster-appearing Xavier. The text becomes "multi-para and whimsical".

00:26 – Image of luri (small, ginger gremlin with a red hoodie, black tights, and two leaves floating above her head) transitions into the center of the screen. In a circle around her, the text reads "loved by luri". The image and text fades out with by flickering out of view.

00: 28 – Text transitions in stating "Featuring alternate universes: legend of zelda, outlast trials, fallout, dnd/baldur's gate, borderlands, dc, owl house." Text transitions in below the prior text "ft. highly adaptable crossover verse".

00:36 – The text "you're going to find me probably weird" appears behind the prior text. The text transitions out with a pop.

00:40 – Animation of human Airin, Xavier, and Luri bop to the beat on the bottom of the screen. The text "Other info: drawn and irl icons, 18+, sporadic activity, favors light plotting, multi-ship, 10+ years of rp experience" transitions into the center of the screen. The scene transitions out with glitch effect.

00:50 – The text "airxn.tumblr.com" transitions into the center of the screen and fades away.

01:00 – Video ends.

this transcription isn't perfect so please let me know what corrections can be made, thank you!

[lurkingshan]

10 Things I Love About Cooking Crush Episode 11

It's not every day that a Thai bl delivers a classic Episode 11 DOOM episode that fills me with joy, so I feel compelled to celebrate everything this show did right in its penultimate chapter. A list of things I loved about this episode, in no particular order.

All the conflict was external. This is how you deliver drama and tension without messing up your core relationships--let them stand together against external forces! When Prem told Ten he wouldn't let him take the fall alone for punching Chang Ma because they're a team, I cheered.

Ten and Prem continue to be communication kings. The way these two talk to each other is just excellent. In any other drama, Ten finding that sticky note would have led to him hiding it, starting to doubt Prem's love, and crumbling in a crucial moment. Not in this show! Ten asked Prem directly what it was about, named that it hurt his feelings, but then listened to the explanation and forgave him. We love to see it.

Struggles aside, all the pairs are so happy. I love how consistently we saw joy from Ten, Prem, Fire, and Dynamite this episode. The friends all cheering for Ten and Prem getting together was fucking adorable, and Fy and My look so content. I’ve never seen Prem smile as big or as often as he did this week. The couples have fun together and they’re all good for each other.

The villains in this episode were calibrated just right. The school bullies and Chang Ma were just on the right side of the line in terms of being assholes but not so harsh or irredeemable that it feels out of sync with this show's light tone. Chang Ma did the right thing in the end by taking responsibility for his own inappropriate behavior and ensuring the Three Must-Eat-Ers could stay in the competition. The bullies will surely get their final comeuppance next week.

The conflict with Ten's dad was appropriately nuanced. I am no fan of that man, but he was making some valid points! He wasn't entirely wrong in what he said to Ten about resorting to violence, though like most parents he is being a hypocrite with selective memory (no sir, I have not forgotten you using physical violence against your own son). Their relationship is so tense, and he continues to antagonize Ten about Prem, so it's no wonder Ten could not receive it calmly. I appreciate that even though Ten didn't listen to him in the moment, he still came to the right conclusions about how to address his mistake.

Fire loved up on Dynamite on national television. Y'all, when I tell you I almost cried to see that expression of queer love and joy from a boy who has previously been so afraid, to a boy who has previously been so unloved. Their relationship is setting them both free, and I am looking forward to Fire finally looking his mother in the face next week and telling her who he is.

Smart use of social media in the cooking show subplot. I like it when dramas use netizens well to create conflict, and I thought the way the fans of the cooking competition reacted to all the drama rang true. I'm glad the trio is going into the final with some fan goodwill on their side.

Prem has really grown into his vulnerability. I love the way Prem was able to express his feelings to Ten multiple times in this episode, having honest talks, asking for support, and sharing his fears. And of course Ten was there to catch him every time he took the leap.

The friendships continue to matter. I love the way Ten and Prem's friends are so involved in every important plot of this show. That scene of them all discussing the cooking show drama together and deciding what they wanted to do was tops. This is a big queer friend group who takes care of each other and I love them, your honor.

Ten and Prem made out in the kitchen!! Listen, I am a mere mortal and I like it when couples in romances are actually into each other. I never would have guessed that this would be the show to deliver more kisses than all of Off/Gun's previous shows combined, but I am living for it.

[jimraisedmeup]

TICK // 15.1 - war pigs

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Rating: mature (angst, language, arson)

Word Count: 1700

☾

Generals gathered in their masses Just like witches at black masses Evil minds that plot destruction Sorcerer of death's construction

☾

May 15, 1984 - junior year

12:00PM.

With a sharp jerk of his hand, Eddie lit a match and held it to the firework.

Did he really think this plan out? No. Did he really care about the consequences at that moment? Definitely not. Did he purchase the fireworks from a reputable seller? Hell the fuck no. 

He bought them at a discounted price from some junkie in Illinois who swore they weren't expired.

But was the shit-eating grin on Eddie's face a clear indication of how much fun he was having? 

Hell yes.

Most of the students were inside the building, back to their classes after lunch. Eddie could see some figures out on the football fields beginning to notice the fireworks.

He started with a few of the big ones, moving on to some smaller ones. It was too light outside to really enjoy them, he knew, but that wasn't the point. He wanted noise, he wanted chaos.

Eddie Munson thrived on anarchy. It was in his blood, his bones. He had a carnal urge inside of him to disrupt society. 

Plus, what did he have to lose? He was going to be out of this hell hole in a week's time. 

Students and teachers began to emerge from the nearest doors, alarmed at the booming noises. He didn't pay attention to any of their faces - he was having a complete adrenaline rush, laughing maniacally at his magnificent work.

Eddie felt a twinge of nostalgia as he heard the fireworks, smelling the gunpowder. It reminded him of dancing with you on New Year's Eve.

"Munson! Stop this right now!" Someone was yelling at him, pointing fingers in his direction.

He had purposely waited until noon. Eddie knew that you would be in your Advanced English class, all the way on the other side of the building. 

Nothing was going to stop him now, not even his intimidating girlfriend.

Everything was going to plan until he reached for the final firework, the biggest one, saved for his grand finale. It looked like a stick of dynamite, meant to be held as it was lit and then thrown. He held a freshly lit match in one hand, and the firework in the other.

…and then something went terribly, terribly wrong. 

☾

In the fields, the bodies burning As the war machine keeps turning Death and hatred to mankind Poisoning their brainwashed minds Oh lord, yeah!

☾

A loud, sudden squealing of sneakers on the tile floor. 

You were stunned to see Jonathan Byers in the doorway of your classroom. He was out of breath, like he had been running the halls for a while. 

You jumped from your seat. You were technically in your English class, but because it was so close to the end of the year, the teacher gave you all a free period. You had nearly fallen asleep when Jonathan burst in.

"Byers! Is this necessary? What may we help you with?" Ms. Walker scolded the boy who was interrupting the peace of the classroom.

"Sorry, ma'am, I just really need to borrow Buckley."

Reluctantly, Ms. Walker nodded her head, allowing you to gather your book bag and chase after Jonathan.

"What's going on? Talk to me, Byers!" You did your best to catch up with him. He seemed to be running towards the front of the building, near the staff parking lot. 

Jonathan let out a quick laugh. "Are you serious? Don't you hear the fireworks?"

"Yeah, why? I figured it was just some celebration."

But Jonathan skidded to a halt, his shoulders dropping in exasperation. "Nah. It's Eddie. He was lighting off fireworks in the parking lot out front. One of them caught Higgin's car on fire."

"You have got to be fucking kidding me."

You took off into a sprint towards the school's main entrance. You wished with every bone in your body that Jonathan was mistaken, that it was some other unruly student and not your Eddie. He was inches away from graduating. He was already on thin fucking ice. This couldn't be true.

All of your hopes faded away as you weaved through the crowd of students just in time to see Eddie in handcuffs, being led away by Jim Hopper. A car nearby was engulfed in flames.

Anger burned inside of you, hotter than Principal Higgin's car, as you watched Hopper's truck drive away with Eddie in the back of it. 

☾

Time will tell on their power minds Making war just for fun Treating people just like pawns in chess Wait till their judgement day comes, yeah!

☾

After almost an hour of Eddie sitting alone, waiting, Chief Hopper stomped into the room. They were in his office, away from any prying eyes.

The look on the older man's face read a mixture of I really don't want to be here and he's going to be a legend.

"Kid, you know why I brought you here, right?"

Eddie feigned innocence, holding up his cuffed hands that were covered in ashes, burns, and gunpowder.

"No, sir. Not a single clue."

Hopper sighed heavily and tossed his hat onto the table separating them. Eddie noticed how tired the chief looked, how the bags under his eyes made him look ten years older than he probably was. 

"Munson, level with me here. There were over fifty people - students and staff - that saw you at the scene of the crime. I literally caught you red-handed, judging by those burns on your hands," Hopper explained, clearly holding back a smirk.

Tapping his fingers on the table, Eddie watched with amusement as they left little black marks in their wake. 

"Let's just cut to the chase here, Hop. What's my punishment? Community service all summer?"

The Munson boy suddenly didn't like the sad expression on Hopper's face, or the second heavy sigh that he released from under his thick mustache. A bad feeling sunk into the pit of his stomach and began to rot like spoiled meat.

The chief laced his hands together in front of him. "I talked with Principal Higgins for quite a while. I tried to negotiate, I really did, but-"

"It was a prank, sir. A harmless senior prank."

"That's the thing, Munson. It may have started out harmless, but it didn't end up harmless."

Eddie held his burnt palms out towards Hopper. "I'm fully aware! You think I can play guitar anytime soon with these hands? Do you neanderthals even have a first aid kit around here? I think I need to clean these wounds before they become infected."

But Hopper ignored his outburst. Hawkin's prized Chief of Police had a genuine look of pity in his eyes.

"They're not going to let you graduate, boy."

His stomach almost fell out of his ass in anger. Eddie could have strangled Hopper for being the messenger of news like this. 

Scratching the back of his mind was you and the look of disappointment that would surely be the death of him.

"Excuse me?"

"Your principal seemed to really hate you before today, but especially now that you blew up his goddamn Buick."

"First of all, it didn't blow up. It just caught fire. Don't be so dramatic."

Hopper gave him a stern look, but didn't have a reply to his back-sass.

Eddie tried to reason with him. "I'd rather go to jail, Hop. Let's work something out, okay? I'm a fucking week away from graduation."

The man across from him was shaking his head before Eddie could finish his sentence. "I did everything I could, kid. You were already hanging by a thread at that school before you went all Firestarter today."

At this point Eddie was holding back hysterical laughter. 

Hopper continued. "I personally don't know why he would want you back at Hawkins High. He refuses to press charges. I'm sure it's a mixture of your grades, your record, and the fact that he's out for blood now…"

And then the next words to come out of his mouth shocked Eddie.

"...the blaze from Higgins' car trashed Jerry Eulin's truck that was next to it. That teacher didn't seem to care for you, either. He dropped your grade. Even if Higgins didn't demand you get held back, your grades are ruined, Munson. I'm sorry."

"This system is fucked!" Eddie screamed. He leapt up from the chair and paced back and forth, fuming. He yanked at the cuffs on his wrists, tearing his skin. "Why am I even handcuffed?!"

The chief stood with him, gesturing with his hands to calm down. "I told them I wanted to be the one to tell you. It might as well have been a witch hunt to those assholes."

Eddie refused to respond. He stopped pacing and stood with his back to Hopper, trying to control his breathing before he started hyperventilating.

"Munson… Eddie." His voice was calm. "You've been through enough already with your father, I-"

A rapid knock at the door startled them both. 

"What is it?" Hopper exclaimed, annoyed.

The door creaked open, revealing Officer Callahan. "Chief, Munson's ride is here."

Eddie stood still as a statue, eyeing Hopper as he unlocked the cuffs from his sore wrists and led him towards the front of the building.

"Kid, take the summer off. Do some fun shit, spend time with your girlfriend," he held the glass doors open for Eddie. "And for the love of God, stay out of trouble, will you?"

"Thanks, Hop," Eddie replied cheerfully, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'll make sure to invite you to my graduation next year."

And he turned away from Hopper without giving him a chance to apologize again. The pitying look in the older man's eyes was nauseating.

Eddie Munson didn't make it far, though, before he came to an abrupt halt on the sidewalk. His heart broke into a million fractured pieces. 

His beloved van was parked right in front of the police station. Leaning against it was you, arms crossed over your chest, disappointment burning bright in your enraged gaze.

☾

Now in darkness, world stops turning Ashes where their bodies burning No more war pigs have the power Hand of God has struck the hour

☾

A/N: i didn't know how much i'd LOVE writing Hopper and Eddie interacting. why were we robbed of that in the show?!

(song lyrics credit: "War Pigs" by Black Sabbath)

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[land-of-holly]

Rings of Power Season 2 Episode 7 Liveblog

I heard we would have less Numenor in this episode. I feel like they're already doing more characterization spots than actual plot advancement, though that may be because I already know where the plot is going so it doesn't FEEL like advancement

Maybe more Arondir tho? Pls?? I miss him

I think we may be doubling down on the implication that the nine's mithril is actually Sauron's own blood. Isn't visual storytelling fun?

The fall of Ost-in-Edhil, as promised

Poor Tyelpe...

Somebody who knows more about metalcraft tell me how he is doing all of this hilariously wrong

Hello Mr. Mouse! He looks very polite, you should let him stay

THAT'S CREEPY PUT HIS REFLECTION BACK THE WAY IT WAS ANNATAR

Tyelpe unfortunately Annatar is going to have to ask for crunch time from you to cover for his own poor scheduling ability

Always love how media siege weaponry use seems to have no other strategy than modern artillery, ie keep hitting until you obliterate the entire fucking thing

Oh now he's "saving" them from their lord's neglect. Asshole.

DISNEY'S MULAN WAS NOT A TACTICAL MANUAL JFC ROCKS DO NOT WORK THAT WAY

That's the kind of thing you accomplish with WELL PLACED DYNAMITE

Arondir! Where did you come from?

(Seriously this show has no respect for time or distance)

I do appreciate every ring having its proper gem.

Warn him, Mr. Mouse!

T_T he's trying to find reality!

Time is money, Narvi! We need to cook dig!

Yayyyyy! Narvi!

Elf? Elf?

ELROND HOW DID YOU GET HERE

Honestly if he's not also here to defy his king I'm starting to wonder why

Nope it's not my audio, the drumbeats are actually not visually in synch with the soundtrack. What the hell, guys?

Elf! Extras! With bows!

Oh no is the mouse in a time loop?

Is Sauron's reach finally exceeding his grasp?

So it's on to strategy number 2, admit that he did it but pretend like it's all fine

"This is hardly a gift" nnnggggggg

We're in trailer territory fam

Lol it's all falling apart

This is absolutely the kind of thing I would expect to see in a good Silvergifting fic, and I mean that as the highest praise. The manipulation! The betrayal!

It's the black goop!

Noooo RIP Tyelpe

Gotta say, roughed up and bleeding looks reeeeally good on Charles Edwards

Come ON Mirdania, I know he comes off a little weird but you don't trust that fucker either!

Unfortunately Tyelpe is a little too harried to remember that blood color is literally THE easiest tell to hide with illusion magic

ANNATAR WHAT THE FUCK

WHAT THE FUCK

WHAT THE FUCK

wow i'm so glad i'm watching this at 7 am

JUSTICE FOR MIRDANIA

It's threats now

Tyelpe please tell me Feanor taught you about decision theory, you CANNOT respond to threats, that just leads to more threats!

Three armies?

ELF EXTRAS

WAR ELROND

Fine, fine, show off the Orc makeup

Ignore her, Elrond, she brought this on herself

Is Adar actually magicing away the sun and making shade just for his children? They do a lot with light in this show but that was a little heavy handed

STOP TALKING ABOUT HIS BEAUTY LEAVE HIM ALONE

Invoking Melian's wisdom is a really low blow. Everything could have gone so much better if anyone ever listened to her.

Elrond knows how to hit back where it hurts! How much do these guys really matter to you, Adar

ELROND IS A MASTER NEGOTIATOR!

Ew. This is some Twilight shit. He goddamn well better have had that ring in his mouth.

Because you always go into a negotiation with confidence, Vorohil!

That helmet needs like a chin strap, but I know those aren't sexy. Letting him have the helmet on at all is a huge ask for most of Hollywood

Durin Jr is a great leader!

Do not make your horse do that wtf

More surprise sinkholes

See??? He can't steal your helmet and show us all your pretty pretty face if you had it strapped on!

Elrond that was kinda cruel, take a deep breath dude

Battle battle fight fight

Now were seeing some tactical macinery use

You are gunning for a patricide my dude

She cannot be caged!

Time for Galadriel to grow an empathy??

I'm still not sure if Galadriel speaks Black Speech. I would assume so, it's useful

Arondir! Where have you been?

So she does know how to motivate people in a positive way

Narvi!!

Unfortunately Middle-earth works on narrativium, not statistics

Someone take away Sauron's literal Christian bible, please

Always focused on the end. Analysts are gonna have a field day with this

Opening up about the torture? I HAVE READ THIS FANFIC I STG.

THAT IS NOT A COMPLAINT

Literally some DARVO shit

THROW IT INTO THE FIRE

unfortunately I think that will not work

they're not even hot

come on Tyelpe you know there's only one way out of this shackle how many times did you see the aftermath lets go LETS GO

dear movie THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU

oh no the artillery just has it out for poor tyelpe

I am Appreciating Galadriel declaring Celebrimbor Lord of Eregion

I can accept replacement of escape with the Three by escape with the Nine. They set it up well enough, and the emotional thrust remains

Of course the difference is this plan is doomed

Okay but have these guys accepted that they are dumb as fuck and eminently susceptible to Sauron's manipulation?

Acceptable last words by poor Tyelpe

Rian MVP!

Damrod? Damrod??

You think a few swords can stop this guy?

See? Dumb as fuck, and very manipulable.

And now the torture, I assume

I never know what language these elves are going to be speaking when they open their mouths, it's great

Killing a hill troll is a group effort

War Gil-galad??

Glug is looking more and more treasony

Dwarves? No dwarves?

AEGLOS LETS GO

arondir no

you can't kill him girl your diversity

don't try to out loremaster elrond that's mean

hey that doesn't belong to you

put that back

WOW I didn't think it was possible for a show so overproduced to simply have a bad first season but they are really showing improvement in the second IMO! Can't wait for the finale!

[pb-dot]

Film Friday: The Last Jedi

Oooooooooooh boy. I would say I have a complicated relationship with Star Wars as a franchise, but from what I hear from other fans I've discussed this with, that's normal and, on some level, inevitable. Star Wars is sometimes good, sometimes bad, and almost always a mix of the two. It's a part of the formula at this point, every bit as much as light sabers and obscure space religion magic. That said, there is one Star Wars movie that holds a special place in my heart, and I want to talk about it and what it did to the franchise, or at least tried to do before the Franchise Management people over at the house of mouse got scared and released a feature-length breaking maneuver of a film, but that's just something that happens some times. Let's get on with The Last Jedi.

As so often is the case in second installments, the war isn't quite going the rebellion's way, and at the start of the movie our heroes are caught in a chase to save what little of the rebellion remains. In an attempt to turn the tides, Rey seeks out the council of legendary Jedi Luke Skywalker, while Finn, Poe and newly recruited mainliner Rose Tico attempt to find a way to circumvent the First Order's tracking to beat the chase.

Of course, things don't turn out quite that way. Luke is quite reluctant to get back into the "anything to do with the force"-business, and Finn, Rose and Poe find more than trouble navigating conflicting loyalties and First Order Infrastructure. It's a very "part two in the triology" kind of thing as our heroes fail, are tempted by both craven panic and the dark side, and learn the kind of lesson that, while necessary, doesn't feel all that good.

To briefly sum up the parts I don't like as much about this movie: the pacing is a bit janky, and while I think the Canto Bight sequence is good thematically, it does feel like it prolongs a part of the plot that could be better served with less space travel. It's also a bit frustrating that a major driver of the Canto Bight/pursuit plot is two pivotal supporting characters not telling the main characters things. Sure, it can be justified, but it feels frustrating to sit through on the second watch-through. Also I can't quite decide if the movie tries to set up Finn with Rose, or if we're supposed to be as baffled about that development as Finn apparently is?

Ok, now with those annoyances out of the way, WOW does this movie do some great stuff. The Rey/Luke subplot alone has so much dynamite about mentoring, learning, and growing past mistakes. Luke has spent the last... what, 10, 20 years trying to be forgotten because he doesn't consider himself worthy of being a legendary hero, having failed Ben Solo/Kylo Ren so thoroughly. Through Rey's earnest, and insistent, enthusiasm for his legend he comes to realize that whether he wants to acknowledge it or not, the consequences of his actions are out there, and if he really wants to make amends, he has to confront these consequences. It's one hell of a storyline and development to play out, and Mark Hamil does some career-best work in putting it out there.

There isn't really a good place to put this bit into the structure I wrote, but as I went through to edit this thing I remembered that I forgot to talk about the Holdo Manuever. This bit is apparently a bit controversial among the Military Logistics Of The Galaxy Far Far Away-crowd, but I fucking love it. For one, it's a twist I didn't see coming that also works just about perfectly even on re-watches, and secondly, just look at the thing. This action setpiece was nothing short of awe-inspiring. Letting physics, at least as much of physics as one can count on when dealing with FTL, do the heavy lifting in a pivotal moment feels like an inspiring choice, and again, look at it!

This movie's also I think the most sensible of the Star Wars movies when it comes to the internal politics of the villain faction, in that the interplay between familiar autocratic forms of leadership, fascism to be precise, and the obscure space magic mysticism of the Force makes for some tasty plot threads. For one, Snoke is so secure that he, alone, will be the first dark side user to not be utterly fucked over by his sole apprentice on account of his mind reading ability that he seemingly ignores the possibility of Kylo Ren learning about the concept of meta-cognition, and gets chopped all the way in half for his hubris. One of the easiest way to get couped, after all, is to believe it could never happen to you for X Y or Z reason.

And then there's Hux. Ah, the fashy wet beast of a man that is Admiral Hugs. His is a thankless job, screaming about nonspecific degeneracy and nonspecific order and getting just absolutely bodied by the dark force users of the First Order on any and all occasions. Granted, the man is the military leader of a wannabe empire whose main business is military, but that doesn't matter much. Poe dunks on him, Kylo and Snoke treat him like a puppet at best, and even when the death of Snoke might suggest a promotion, oop, no, guess what, Kylo Ren's still there and while he doesn't proclaim himself Master or anything, he certainly makes a compelling argument for him succeeding the throne of Supreme Leader. Sucks to suck, Hugs, shouldn't have subscribed to an ideology based on strength alone.

Rey's attempt at navigating the force and her identity is also fascinating to watch. The mystery of who she is exactly is an interesting driving force to the whole character arc. While I concede the point that this is in part because Lineage and Pedigree is like catnip to Star Wars fans to a worrying degree, it's also just compelling. Part of finding out who you are is, after all, a part of finding out where you came from, and in the ways you are different and similar to that origin is as good of a guide as any. With that said, it was an immense relief to me that Rey wasn't related to anyone important in the Star Wars Lore, if only because it opens up her plot so much. If she falls to the Dark Side it's because she falls to the dark side, not because she's a sapling from a line of part Force-homonculi like the Skywalkers, or like a quarter Darth Andeddu on her Mother's Side or whatever. Granted, Rey From Nowhere in particular was retconned in the following movie, and I'll GET to that. In the context of this movie at time of release though, it felt like a breath of fresh air.

It felt like an attempt to start something new. Maybe not every important character in the world is related to every other important character. Maybe the galaxy far far away is more vivid and exciting than it ever could be playing out some kind of extended Arthurian family saga. Maybe the first order is a threat not so much because they want to kill our Skywalkers, but because they're a massive conquering beast flattening culture and exploiting those they consider lesser, which is to say everyone. Maybe the stable boy is force sensitive. Maybe that'll matter, maybe that'll just be a little coda demonstrating that The Force isn't strictly a Palpatine/Skywalker family secret.

Speaking of though, let's talk about Kylo Ren some. I love Kylo Ren as a villain. He clearly styled himself on his grandpappy Anakin Skywalker, and the fact that the result is such a store brand thematic mockery is just perfect. Darth Vader didn't dress up like that because it was cool (at least in the Watsonian sense, in the Doylist sense he very much did), he's covered in all of that armor because it's his life support system. His unnerving hissing breath is his respirator chugging along. He is incredibly powerful in the force, yes, but his body is a mess, and it's a tribute to his strength in the Force that it's not a thing you notice as he takes you apart. Vader's armor is more than his armor, it's his prison, keeping him alive, bound to the Empire and the Dark Side in more ways than one. Kylo's armor looks that way because it's meant to evoke Darth Vader. Kylo doesn't need it, he just thinks it lets him be more like his grandfather. He's cosplaying, in practice, and no level of sulky angy boy antics can come close to projecting the sheer weight of Anakin's fallen splendor, which of course, only makes Kylo angrier. This is a compelling mirror to Rey in this movie IMO. Rey does not have Kylo's legacy, which makes her free in a way Kylo could never be, although Rey would probably switch in a heartbeat if she had the chance.

It's this kind of entangled conflict that makes the Rey-Kylo interplay so fascinating. Rey believes in the good in Kylo because That's What The Hero Does, but Kylo is so tied up in being Taster's Choice Darth Vader that she just doesn't get through the aura of angsty rage that surrounds him. They're not quite enemies, but far from friends, thus my choice of word "entangled." It's a pretty fun dynamic to see, and it leads to what I think is one of the better fight scenes of the sequel trilogy where Rey and Kylo are, however briefly, allies of convenience and fight through Snoke's Throne Guard. It's a rad fight because we haven't gotten too many "light sabers vs multiple semi-worthy opponents" in the main series, and because it's just so cool to see non-allies on the same side.

I suppose I have postponed talking about this movie's legacy as long as I can. It's not a task I cherish for two reasons, one, I find the current fandom focus on legacy utterly exhausting, and two, I feel this movie in particular was done dirty by its sequel, to the degree where I didn't even want to touch Star Wars for quite some time after it released.

In short, I would argue that just about every cool bit of The Last Jedi was clumsily retconned or just written out in Rise Of Skywalker. Rey from Nowhere? Gone, turns out she's Sheev "I've been dead for three movies except Sike" Palpatine's granddaughter and Kylo "I never lied to you" Ren was full of shit when he confirmed that her parents were nothing special. The power struggle between Hux and Kylo? Absolutely demolished. Sheev's back and he's brought his own Disappointing Generic Empire Guy to lead, so it's arguably not even the First Order any more. Rose Tico as a kind of Working Class conscience for the Adventure Crew? She's just kind of around and has exactly as many lines as it takes to not formally be an extra. Fuck me, if that movie managed to somehow convince me that cool Rey and Kylo fight didn't happen it'd be batting a thousand as far as ruining good shit from TLJ. Oh, and of course Finn and Poe get Plausible Deniability Girlfriends, because fuck you if you're finnpoe, right?

Anyway, this is not a review of Rise Of Skywalker, but it kind of impossible to speak of all the cool shit TLJ tried to do without acknowledging that these were very much The Road Not Taken. It's also important context to my current relationship with Star Wars. Put simply, I've lost faith. Why even bother participating in any further Star Wars media? I've clearly seen the Only Good Story Possible in Star Wars when I watched the original trilogy, considering how its the only story you're allowed to tell Post-Lucas, and any deviation from the same will lead to one of the biggest media companies in the world to ruin an entire feature-length film to meticulously undo anything that strays from the Star Wars Formula? How would any decent storyteller hitch themselves to a mess like this? How does it not become the miserable slog of content produced by work-a-day directors sleepwalking through Franchise Management-approved scripts, where nothing ever changes or grows, because the Star Wars Fans expect another of their semiregular reifications of three pretty good adventure/sci-fi films from the 70's, and heaven help you if you falter in your breathless reverence for The Legacy.

So while this isn't a review of Rise Of Skywalker, you can plainly see I didn't like it much. Do give The Last Jedi a look though, there's some neat scenes in it, and porgs.

[danniswrites]

My writing turned totally around in Jan 2022. I was editing my latest NaNoWriMo project, and decided to check out a resource I found on nanowrimo.org to help me. Basically, I wanted help to write a dynamite blurb, or tagline. When I create a new story, I use a LibreOffice template I created to put my title page, copyright page with a sentence describing what the story's about, TOC, and a dummy first paragraph with my first dummy paragraph heading.

I wanted to know how to write better taglines.

So I read the article above and the light bulb went on! Simple. Elegant. Plotting.

I had always been a pantser. Never planned any part of my stories, and I have about 650 of 'em, half not even to the first draft. Dedicated pantser. In my teen years, I hated English literature in 8th grade even though I knew I needed to know how to plot, but all the analysis of the books we read [and I enjoyed reading them] just made me feel like, 'I'm too stupid to learn all this.'

Now, I'm reading these 10 steps and had an epiphany!

So, I broke down Step 1 and made it into my worksheet for coming up with taglines.

Here's how I think about those 15 max words to get it done:

One Sentence Summary: Adj.+Noun+Verb+Obj [Worker] [Action] [Effect] in 15 words or less Character With Most To Lose: What They Want:

So, for Adia, Scientist, here's what I came up with:

Discouraged scientist must discover a new fuel so her colony can escape from war.

I write science fiction and I loved chemistry in college, so, hey, I like formulas. I don't want my writing to sound like it came from a formula, but if you look at a lot of genres, there is one.

If you read enough romances, like my sister did, you figure out there's a pattern you can follow as a writer. I was there when she did. She went on to become famous and actually got an award presented to her in New York from her idol, Barbara Cartland at a writer's conference.

I--uh, I'm the non-famous sister who self-publishes on Amazon. But I enjoy my writing life, and though I do love to put romance in my books, romance writing is not my thing.

However, if you're like me and you want to improve your writing, Snowflake Method does work for a lot of us. And, if you buy one of Randy Ingermanson's very entertaining books, you get a free copy of his Snowflake Pro software, which walks you through each step and lets you see what you wrote in the previous step.

I don't do all 10 steps. Let's face it, I'm a plantser now. I'm not that meticuolous and organized. But, I do most of them, because Steps 1-5 give me a nice head start. And, Steps 3, 5 and 7 concentrate on your characters. Characters make your story. If you don't have a character that grabs your reader from the first chapter, why will they want to read your story? You have to have someone to care about and they have to have something happening that attracts the reader.

Now that I had a loose framework for my stories, I needed to [finally] learn something about plot structure more than the beginning, 3 disasters, and an ending. Randy does an excellent job of simplifying 3 act structure [though there are other methods such as PlotDot or Save The Cat that also work with Snowflake Method].

Another resource I found while exploring resources in the Now What? Revision pages on nanowrimo.org was K. M. Weiland's wonderful site:

This lady puts 3 act structure into terms that I can understand, and she has a vast database of books and movies that she's analyzed for us. If you think 3 act structure is complicated and boring, try reading a little of your favorite on this list:

I love the Marvel movies, so here's how she summarized The Avengers.

And she even mentions how what works in this movie would not, in a book. This is something I read time and time again about science fiction writing. Science fiction movies are not 'true' science fiction, for the most part. Star Wars is fantasy set on other planets. Star Trek has science in it, but again, is science fantasy.

In science fiction, science drives the story more than characters or plot. Though, to make my science fiction more accessible to a wider audience, I choose to concentrate on psychology, particularly interpersonal relationships. I do make sure that my science is feasible and believable, and explain it simply. And, I do my research.

So, when writing a book, it's good to see analyses like this of movies, but remember, it's different for books.

A friend who was also a producer told me, for a two-hour movie, you have to choose about two chapters for your script. The director has to insert some points to connect the dots. That's why many movies 'aren't like the book' they're based upon. It's an art to take a book and condense it like that so it still makes sense and absorbs the viewer.

But, we writers can learn much from movies about character development and how to get our readers involved with them, and with our stories.

[dira333]

Writing Prompts

For Requests or Inspiration:

Song inspirations:

If you can’t face forever, tell me lies (Safe - Nico Santos)

Is there a moment, there in love, we ever thought we’ve got enough? (Safe - Nico Santos)

History Repeats (We Can Do Better - Matt Simons)

Blindfolded minds (Strangers - Sigrid)

Our touch is just a touch (Strangers - Sigrid)

perfect pretenders (Strangers- Sigrid)

Lonely Shadows (Strangers - Sigrid)

Begging for Trouble (Schedules - Sigrid)

The best lie (Plot Twist - Sigrid)

You’ve seen my red as blue (Dynamite - Sigrid)

You're as safe as a mountain, But know that I'm dynamite (Dynamite - Sigrid)

Dreams fight with machines (Hurts like Hell - Fleurie)

Your heart fits like a key (Hurts like Hell - Fleurie)

Careful son, you got dreamer's plans (Soldier - Fleurie) 

Technicolour Beat (Technicolour Beat - Oh Wonder)

Took my soul and wiped it clean (All I Want - Kodaline)

We go deeper than the ink beneath the skin of our tattoos (Brother - Kodaline)

make my heart feel like it's summer (The One - Kodaline)

Tired of love songs (I’m so tired - Lauv)

Midnight into morning coffee (I like me better - Lauv)

Keep our bodes tied together (Chasing Fire - Lauv)

I′m the outsider in your crowd (I don’t wanna know - Sigrid)

Rode our bikes into the sky (Hold back the river - James Bay)

Lonely water, won′t you let us wander (Hold back the river - James Bay)

in You I find my identity (You say - Lauren Daigle)

missed that face for a couple of years (Oh Hello - Nico Santos)

Whiskey Goodbyes (Hope - The Chainsmokers)

Walking the Wire (Walking the Wire - Imagine Dragons) 

I run from the things that I want the most (Maybe don’t - Maisie Peters)

sky burns red against your skin (Hurricane - Fleurie)

Lost your mind in the sound (King - Lauren Aquilina)

Water in a Whale (True North - Jillette Johnson)

Dark diamond in my eyes (Torpedo - Jillette Johnson)

Break these clocks forget about time (A.M. - One Direction)

Don′t wanna sleep 'cause we′re dreaming out loud (A.M. - One Direction)

Walking in the Wind (Walking in the Wind - One Direction)

You’re not a constant star (Fool’s Gold - One Direction)

A false star for your wide eyes (Sympathy - Kyla la Grange)

I wanna see myself painted an invisible grey (Heavy Stone - Kyla la Grange)

Taylor Swift Lyrics that always inspire me:

the street lights pointed in an arrowhead, leading us home 

I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this

‘Cause all of my enemies started out friends

I ask the traffic lights if it’ll be alright. They say “I don’t know”

I’ll paint the kitchen neon, I’ll brighten up the sky

Fighting with true love is boxing with no gloves

Lost my gloves, you give me one

Once thinking that your dad was ten feet tall

And they say little girls have big dreams

I don’t like your perfect crime. How you laugh when you lie.

I’ve got a list of names and yours in red, underlined.

How was I supposed to know that he was just as cold inside?

I brought a knife to a gunfight

All my flowers grew back as thorns

Use my best colors for your portrait

Look at how my tears ricochet

[kadeuxhyeonju]

Plot Drop 2: Let’s Light It Up Like Dynamite

Wednesday 09 September 2020; Evening. The time has come. A few key members of the resistance join you in the back room of the Vega Gem to iron out their plans. They are planning on detonating the bomb on the morning of Thursday the 10th of September during Freshman Orientation at The Academy. The bomb shouldn’t kill anyone as everyone should be in the courtyard for the speech, but they are planning on detonating the bombs in the Academy’s main foyer.

You have been tasked with planting one of the additional bombs in a side hall and then meeting the group out front to detonate everything together just as the orientation starts.

The change of location from a Heart target to Diamond came as a surprise to Hyeonju. The leaders had seemed so adamant about an attack in his own district and the Ten of Heart was more than happy to provide a good portion of his funds and assistance to the plan. While he was wont to voice his disappointment at the last minute changes being made, he stayed silent this time, only providing nods of approval or acquiescence when needed.

Location didn’t matter to Hyeonju. To him, Kadeu was all the same—a mass of corruption, pain, and lowlifes passing themselves off as superior based on their number.

I want them all to burn.

His thoughts were always the same when it came to his reasons for helping the resistance. He would do anything to rid this place—himself—of the marks that granted or stripped them of privilege. He was tired of being a tool, a toy, one step away from being insignificant again because of some grumpy old geezer from thousands of years ago who couldn’t take criticism.

Hope that king is a lowranker in the afterlife.

The details, teams, and tasks were finalized. Hyeonju saw the leaders and colleagues out the back with a smile. The door closed softly behind the last person and the smile dropped from the Heart’s face. A dangerous light glittered behinds eyes. Tomorrow, Kadeu would start to burn.

And he would be the one to help fuel the flames of revolution.

Thursday 10 September 2020; Early Morning

Hyeonju strode through the Academy halls with confidence. Most passerby hardly looked his way and those who did greeted him with familiarity. Hyeonju’s shop was popular even among Diamonds and it was common to get orders from those who worked at the Academy. It was fortunate that the Heart just so happened to have a commission lying in wait that needed to be delivered to his Diamond client. It gave him the perfect excuse to be at the Academy where otherwise some might find it strange for him to be roaming the corridors during Freshman Orientation.

He knocked politely on the office door before seeing himself in. The man was a high ranker, a professor, Hyeonju recalled. He had been looking for finely polished gemstones arranged in such a way that he would use for an experiment. Hyeonju had no idea what for, but he didn’t ask questions, only smiled, laughed, gave the proper, charming responses expected of him before bowing and seeing himself out. The man had insisted on seeing the Heart out, but with a few assurances that he knew his way back and didn’t want to disturb the Diamond on such an important day, Hyeonju managed to keep the client from following him.

After making sure the professor had made his way to the courtyard where the ceremony was being held, Hyeonju made a casual turn toward the meeting rooms situated in the opposite direction. In his coat pocket, he could feel the weight of the explosive device thumping against his waist. It was a satisfying feeling. But it’ll be far better when it goes off.

Without hesitation, the Heart slipped into the designated room the leaders had planned for him to enter. The halls had been cleared in advance. A small party had been sent to make sure all routes were clear before planting the bombs. Hyeonju trusted they would make sure no one would come near this area while he set up his device.

He wasted no time in removing the bomb from his coat and setting it up near a window. He placed it underneath a chair, hidden from view should anyone walk in here unexpectedly. Luckily, it wasn’t hard to set up the bomb. The ones who’d built it made sure it was user friendly which Hyeonju appreciated greatly. Blowing himself up was not in his nor the revolutionaries’ plans.

With the device positioned and ready, Hyeonju righted himself, dusting off invisible lint before striding towards the door. He slipped out, took a casual look at his surroundings, noting no people in sight or within hearing. Satisfied, Hyeonju smiled pleasantly to himself, humming a sweet tune as he made his way to the Academy’s front entrance. Once there, he joined his fellow rebels, all dressed like they attended or were employed by the Academy in some fashion. All that was left to do was wait.

Let’s watch it all go boom!

[whyse7vn]

BTS BOYFRIEND TEXTS -

[ ot7 x reader ]

lmao what is this it’s 3 am and i’m tired enjoy ^ ^

SEOKJIN -

jin: you ate without me…

y/n: did do that

jin: you said you’d wait

y/n: lied

jin: you’re not even gonna try and lie and say you tried you wait or something?

y/n: no

jin: we’re over

y/n: damn that sucks

jin: you don’t even care 😓

y/n: i do

seokjin please please please take me back i love you so much please please !!

jin: i guess i’ll give you another chance 🙄

y/n: thanks so much jinjin love you 😍😍🥰🥰🥰‼️‼️‼️‼️💕💕💓💓💓

jin: ew stop

y/n: stop what bae 😓💓

jin: that

y/n: you’re so hard to please

jin: i deserve better than you

y/n: choke

jin: i’m plotting your murder

y/n: it’s giving jin !alpha !hybrid !mafia boss !hard dom (disturbing content) minors dni

jin: i wolf you

y/n: would turn you into a rug

NAMJOON -

namjoon: got a loaf of bread

y/n: smooth like butter

namjoon: also got broke that green bowl so i bought a new one

y/n: haters gonna hate and players gonna play

namjoon: the bowl is blue tho

hope that’s ok

y/n: pretty woman

namjoon: did you eat lunch ?

y/n: everybody say no

namjoon: you should go do that then

y/n: run run run

namjoon: i think there is soup in the fridge

go check

y/n: did you see my bag ?

namjoon: is it there ?

y/n: you’re so big for no reason

namjoon: what ?

y/n: i’m looking at that photo on the fridge

namjoon: the disney one ?

y/n: yeah and you’re standing behind me you a big bitch

namjoon: thanks ?

y/n: ur built like a brick

ur so hot

lord

come home pls

namjoon: i’m on my way love

y/n: DO YOU REMEMBER WHEN THAT INTERVIEWER TOLD YOO TO PLAY UR OWN RACE LMAOOOOO

namjoon: i do

y/n: he really got you like that

foul

i would of laughed if i was there

namjoon: i know

y/n: loud asf too

namjoon: i know babe

y/n: pls he really ate you up

lord i’m laughing now

namjoon: i figured

y/n: still love you tho 🤞🏽❤️

namjoon: love you too

was the soup in the fridge ?

y/n: no

namjoon: k i’ll order something when i get back ok ?

y/n: light it up like dynamite

YOONGI -

y/n: what if i had 1 hour to live and was going bald and my leg was broken and all my family was dying from cancer right now

yoongi: it’s 8am

y/n: what if

yoongi: it’s 8am

y/n: yoongi 🥺

yoongi: it is 8 am.

y/n: ok and i am gonna kms.

what now yoongi ? what now ??

yoongi: bye

y/n: what the frick bro

fuck you

you’re an opp fr

can’t trust anyone

not a soul not even your own bf

this is so sad

all they ever do is leave you in the dirt

this is what fame does to people

man this is so sad

all this money gets to them fr fr

i can’t believe it

you switched like a pussy lil bitch 💔🗣🙏🏽

agust d too famous for me 😓😓

omg am i the next rap monster but actually black ????

you should get them braids again bae 😍

could be twins

nvm i don’t like you forgot

suga flopped 🥱‼️

bts disband

skz outsold bts 🗣🗣🗣🗣

felix should replace suga 💯

agust d a flop 🙄

cyphers ain’t even that good

suga old asf

yoongi: i am trying

y/n: omg hey bae 😍😍❤️🥵🥰

yoongi: to sleep

y/n: without me 😩⁉️

yoongi: yes

y/n: omw to america rn btw like fr fr no joke /thisisnotajokeimbeingfr

yoongi: i know

y/n: i can tell you’re so excited ur so cute love you 💞

yoongi: yeah.

going to sleep now.

y/n: rest up bro ‼️‼️‼️

see you soon g 🥱🤞🏽

HOSEOK -

y/n: i had a dream you violently slammed me into a pile of bricks

you had me by the throat

hobi: my fault

y/n: my back is broken now

hobi: sorry

y/n: it’s ok i forgive you

hobi: thank you

y/n: just don’t do it again

hobi: i promise i won’t

y/n: don’t let me down

hobi: ok

y/n: we are in love

hobi: true

y/n: cool

hobi: went into a cake shop today

y/n: what did it smell like

hobi: roses

y/n: interesting

hobi: got a small cake with a strawberry on top

y/n: photo ?

hobi: i dropped it

y/n: oh

hobi: i took a picture of it on the floor tho do you want to see ?

y/n: please

TAEHYUNG -

tae: hiiii

y/n: saw a trumpet on the tv made me think about how shit you sound playing it

tae: fuck you i’ll be great one day

y/n: i take it back ur hot

tae: fanks

y/n: we can get matching trumpets

can we put like sequins on them or will that fuck up the sound or something?

tae: idk

y/n: you should

tae: can we drink tn?

y/n: we can make a lil marching band 🥺🥺🥺

tae: also can we not invite jin this time want it to just be us

y/n: we should learn how to play dynamite

tae: and we are gonna eat yesterday’s leftovers

y/n: but if i see your fucking feet out one time today marching band dreams will come to an end ok ?

tae: but idk if i’m really feeling leftovers yk???

y/n: make sure them dogs are LOCKED away

tae: yeah idk i’ll wait until it’s time to eat then i’ll decide

y/n: what ?

tae: huh?

why are you talking about my feet

y/n: they’re scary 😟

tae: i feel like we’re on the completely different pages rn

JUNGKOOK -

jk: what if i was spiderman ?

y/n: that would be hot

jk: yeah

y/n: why aren’t you spiderman?

jk: racism.

y/n: valid

jk: do you still think i’m hot even tho i’m not spiderman?

y/n: i guess

jk: thanks

y/n: yw

jk: sorry i’m not at my full potential

y/n: i forgive you

jk: ok

y/n: ok

jk: bought a rock today

y/n: a shiny one ?

jk: no

y/n: like just a normal one ?

jk: yeah

y/n: nice.

jk: ikr

y/n: how much was it?

jk: 4k

y/n: what

jk: 4,000

y/n: jungkook

jk: yeah

y/n: what the fuck

jk: the rock seller was very convincing

y/n: can you return it ?

jk: no

y/n: what does the rock do

jk: sit ?

y/n: oh

jk: i’m gonna draw a face on it

y/n: i think i’m gonna take your card for a bit

jk: oh

y/n: yeah

jk: did i do something wrong ?

JIMIN -

jimin: watched 10 fancams of myself today

y/n: watched 10 of v

jimin: go fuck him then ???

y/n: might do that

jimin: no don’t it was a joke /j /j /j /j

y/n: don’t joke like that got my hopes up for nothing 😔💔

jimin: you would never

y/n: try me

jimin: you make me sick

y/n: 🤞🏽🤞🏽

jimin: you make me hard

y/n: i would hope so

jimin: yeah

y/n: yeah

jimin: i’m in our room

y/n: ok

jimin: just thinking

y/n: nice to know your brain still does that

jimin: you ruined it

y/n: my bad bro 🙏🏽

jimin: bro ???

y/n: bestie ?

jimin: ur so annoying

y/n: i’ll try better myself for you jimin 😔

jimin: you cant

you’re too lost

y/n: find me jimin 🥺🥺

pls find me 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

jimin: i’ll try

y/n: that’s so hot 🤤🥵❤️‼️💯

[dreamerstreamer]

Captive

Pairing: Dream / Clay x gn!reader

Summary: [Dream SMP!AU] You’re glad you managed to talk Dream out of giving all that TNT to Wilbur, but what you don’t know is just how far Wilbur is willing to go to get his hands on it.

Warnings: tw// depictions of kidnapping, some cursing (Tommy exists), + one scene with slight violence

Word Count: 6.5k

A/N: requested by an anon who wanted to see dream’s reaction to a kidnapping of his s/o! i played around a little with the original idea, but i hope you enjoy!

The door to your bedroom opened with a soft creak, the wooden door squeaking at its hinges as you pushed it open. You strolled inside with a tune on your lips as you sat on your side of the bed, a soft breath escaping you.

It had been a long day, to say the least.

To think of all the days Wilbur could have confronted Dream, it was going to be today.

You sighed at the thought, pressing a finger to your temple. It was difficult to pinpoint just when Wilbur had begun his slow descent into madness, but it was growing more prominent with each passing day. He no longer resembled the kind, sarcastic man you once recognized, instead having devolved into something far more sinister and cunning. You didn’t realize just how low he’d sunk until he had called Dream to him, and by proxy you, with a particular demand.

He wanted as much TNT as Dream could possibly provide in return for the fall of Manberg.

You could hardly believe your ears, let alone your eyes as you watched Wilbur describe exactly how his plot would unfold. The crazed look in his eye was terrifying, and you could tell with just one look that he was too far gone to be saved.

Before Dream even had the chance to say anything, you had grabbed his hand, tugging him a few feet away from Wilbur with the simple request of a few moments to talk things over.

“You can’t give it to him,” you remembered saying, your eyes dark with resolve. “You just can’t.”

His cold, ceramic mask had stared back at you. “Why not? Manberg is doomed to fall, anyways—why shouldn’t we help him?”

You had pursed your lips, your gaze growing serious. “Dream, we shouldn’t be condoning this. Who knows how many lives would be lost if we went through with it?” You had wrapped your hands around his, a silent plea flashing in your eyes as your voice grew soft. “Please, Dream. This is wrong. Please, I’m begging you.”

A moment had passed in silence, your shoulders tense with worry before his hand wrapped around yours, squeezing gently. “Okay,” he had murmured, and you could almost imagine the look in his emerald eyes. “I won’t do it.”

To say Wilbur was livid would be an understatement.

You shivered at the thought. Rarely did Wilbur lose his composure, but today was the most terrifying sight of them all. You’d never seen him shout like that. Dream had to practically cart the both of you back to the SMP, Wilbur’s incessant curses lingering in the air for miles to come.

With a sigh, you curled your toes, shaking your head. Even though no trade was made, you still couldn’t help but feel uneasy.

A quiet meow came from in front of you, and you raised your head to see Patches standing a few feet away. A smile spread across your face and you clicked your tongue, bending over to tap your fingers along the ground at your feet. “C’mere, pretty,” you crooked, “c’mere!”

“Are you talking about me?”

You looked up at the doorway to your bedroom, your lips twitching at the sight of Clay leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest and his mask in hand. Below you, Patches padded across the wooden floorboards to your feet, rubbing up against your leg. “Mm,” you mused, tapping at your chin, “I wouldn’t call you pretty, per se.”

He gasped, holding his hand over his chest as though he’d been shot. “Really?”

You cocked your head at him as Patches leapt up onto the bed next to you, her tail brushing again your arm. “Why, yes.” A teasing grin danced on your lips. “As a matter of fact, I’d say you’re much more handsome than you are pretty.”

He raised a brow at you, a cocky look crossing his face. “Oh, handsome, you say?”

You smirked back at him. “Very.”

Patches crawled over into your lap, her paws pressing gently against your calves as she settled in. You smiled down at her, but the tension in your shoulders didn’t drop. Sucking in a breath, you opened your mouth.

“Clay?”

He turned, his emerald gaze shooting to you. “Yeah?”

You swallowed, casting your gaze down toward the ground. “I know we already talked about this, but I just wanted to be extra sure.”

He stared at you for a moment, setting his mask on the nightstand on his side of the bed. “Is this about Wilbur?”

Your breath hitched, and you closed your eyes nodding slowly. “Yes,” you said in a small voice.

His lips quirked, and he slipped into the spot on the bed next to you. “I know you’re still worried. I don’t exactly have a...” He paused. “...great track record with TNT.” You let out a breathy laugh. “But I won’t hand any of it over.” He reached over, his hand slipping yours into his. “Not even a single stick of dynamite. I swear it.”

You peered up at him through your lashes, your eyes searching his. “Do you promise?” you whispered.

He leaned toward you pressing his forehead to yours as he rubbed his thumb in small circles on the back of your hand. “Promise.”

Your lips curled up at his words, and you raised his other hand to his cheek, leaning in. He met you halfway as your lips pressed against one another in a soft kiss. You could feel him smile into your mouth, and you stifled a giggle as he pulled away with a lopsided grin on his face.

On your lap, Patches let out a soft meow. Her big green eyes blinked lazily up at you before she dipped her head, nuzzling her face into your pyjama pants. Meowing back at her, Clay reached over and stroked his hand gently over the top of her head, his smile widening at the sound of her soft purr. You opened your mouth to say something when you were cut off by a yawn pushing past your lips.

Clay cast a soft look at you, and he tilted his head at you. “Hey, let’s go to bed, yeah? You’re tired.”

You feigned annoyance, sticking your tongue out at him. “Yeah, because you’re so boring.”

He looked appalled. “What?”

Your lips twitched into a grin. “Kidding.” You squeezed his hand in yours lovingly. “I love spending time with you, even if we’re not really doing anything.”

Getting to his feet, he walked to the other side of the room, flicking off the lights and enveloping the room in darkness. “Well,” he said, striding over to his side of the bed and pulling back the covers as he slipped in, “you and I will get to do a whole lot of nothing together if you get in bed, okay? So, hurry up.”

You rolled your eyes but relented, your eyes glimmering with mirth. “Alright, alright.”

Ever so gently, you picked Patches up from off your lap and set her on the ground, your heart sighing at the sound of her soft mewl. The moment her paws touched the ground, she trotted out of the room, the door swinging closed behind her. You shook your head at her before sliding under the sheets. Almost automatically, Clay opened his arms up and you snuggled up to his chest, a comforting warmth enveloping you as his arm draped over your waist.

“Goodnight, Clay,” you whispered into the dark, just for him to hear.

You couldn’t see him, but you could hear the smile in his voice.

“Goodnight, [Y/N].”

You were stirred out of sleep by an itching in your throat.

Blinking open your bleary eyes, you coughed into the crook of your arm once, slowly growing conscious with each passing second. The room was still dark, the moon peeking down at you through the windowpanes, and pressed against your back was something warm and solid. You smiled, snuggling back against Clay’s chest, his arm unconsciously tightening around you as your eyelids fluttered shut.

Just as you felt yourself about to doze off again, another cough flew from your lips.

Quickly covering your mouth, careful not to wake Clay, you suddenly realized just how dry your mouth was. Frowning, you opened your eyes once more, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you slowly wrapped your hand around Clay’s wrist. With a touch as light as a feather, you slipped his arm off from around your waist and you wiggled out of his warm embrace, bringing yourself up into a sitting position. You were seconds away from pulling off the covers when he shifted, his face nuzzling into the spot where your head once lay.

“Mm... [Y/N]...” he murmured, sleep slurring his words together as his hand twitched at his side. “Wh... where’re ya going...?”

You smiled, caressing the side of his face with the back of your hand. “Just gonna get a glass of water,” you whispered back, moving some hair away from his face.

Leaning over, you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. “Sweet dreams,” you said into his ear as you pulled away, watching with a fond smile as he relaxed at your touch, the stress vanishing from his features in an instant.

Seeing Clay sleep was more comforting than you’d like to admit. It was one of the only times where he ever got to just be Clay and not Dream—just a simple guy who needed his rest just like anybody else. 

Swinging your legs off the bed, you sliding out from under the covers and tread across the floor, your socks silencing your every step. You swung open the door as quietly as you could, slipping out into the hall and making your way toward the kitchen. Turning on the lights would surely hurt your eyes too much, so you fumbled around the wall for a moment before pulling open a cabinet and successfully grabbing a glass for yourself. Finding the sink was much easier, and you shortly found yourself closing the tap and taking a long swig of water from your cup.

As you sipped, the wind howled outside, sending a chill running down your spine. You shivered, snuggling further into your sweater. You were glad you wore something thicker to bed, today—it was cool out.

Once you finished, you set your glass back in the sink and began walking back to your and Clay’s bedroom. You had maybe made it halfway down the hall when you heard something a quiet clank behind you. You froze, turning to look over your shoulder.

“Patches?” you called out into the dark hallway, another chill overtaking your shoulders. “Is that you?”

Before you knew what was happening, an arm had wrapped around your waist, tugging you back and pressing you firmly against someone’s chest.

Panic shot through your skull like a bullet, and you opened your mouth to let out a scream.

All of a sudden, a fist slammed against your temple, and you felt your vision immediately darken, your shout vanishing as though it had been ripped away from you.

Clay, was the last thing you thought before the darkness consumed you.

Clay awoke to the feeling of something soft tickling his nose.

“What...?” he muttered aloud to himself, batting a hand over his face. For a moment, the softness disappeared, but it returned a second later. Slowly blinking awake, he saw a paw brush over his forehead, and he nearly rolled his eyes.

“Ugh, Patches,” he said with a slight frown, watching as the cat leapt over his head. The bed dipped at his side where she landed, and he sighed. “[Y/N],” he murmured while brushing a hand through his sleep-mussed hair, “did you want to feed her?”

A moment passed, and he was met with silence. 

“[Y/N]?”

More silence.

Furrowing his brow, he rolled over, his arm reaching for your warmth.

His blood ran cold when his hand met nothing but the cold sheets.

He bolted upright, his hands desperately grasping at the sheets as his eyes darted this way and that across the room. Everything in the room seemed just as it was the day before, but with one main difference.

You weren’t there.

Clenching his jaw, he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to recall every memory he had of the last night. He remembered the warmth of your lips on his cheek as you slipped out of bed, murmuring something about getting of glass of water. He didn’t remember you coming back to bed after.

He cast a glance at Patches, who sat at his side and looked back at him with her big green eyes. She meowed at him, and it all suddenly clicked.

The next few moments came in a blur. He kicked the sheets off of him, not bothering to fix them as he slid off the bed and scrambled towards the door, swinging it open with a slam. Next thing he knew, he was running through every room of the house, ducking his head into the kitchen and pantry, the bathroom and closet. No door remained unopened, and no stone remained unturned.

It was only after he had gone through just about every single room that he let the terror begin to set in.

Nowhere—you were absolutely nowhere to be found.

He swallowed, his hands tightening into fists at his side as he paced through the corridor. You wouldn’t have left him, especially not like this. If you were going to leave, you would have told him before you did so. Hell, you would have at least left a note.

It was at that moment that he passed the front entrance, and his eyes flashed, landing on a folded piece of paper taped to the wooden door.

A note.

Nearly tripping over his own feet, Clay rushed over, practically tearing the page off the door before frantically unfolding it. His eyes darted rapidly across every line, reading in a frenzy.

Salutations, Dream!

It has come to my attention that you are growing funnier than ever, rudely declining my humble request. Well, I have just the perfect remedy for that! You might have noticed that you happen to be missing a rather precious possession of yours, and I’m sure you’ve been in quite the panic. In brief, yes, I have [Y/N]; they’re my captive. I’ll be keeping them until I have you providing me with what I asked. I’ll take as much TNT as you can provide, but at least a stack would be just wonderful. You know what they say—the more the merrier!

I may have never seen your face before, but I can just imagine how angry you must be. Boohoo, are you gonna cry? How cute. Don’t you know, Dream? All’s fair in love and war.

My fondest regards,

Wilbur Soot

Clay reread the note once, twice, thrice until he had nearly memorized every single word inked onto the page. Staring down at the paper in his hands, a slow, sinking sense of horror dug its claws into his shoulders. 

Wilbur had you. He had taken you, and you were his hostage.

He ran a hand through his hair, swallowing thickly. “Fuck,” he muttered, low and dark. 

There was no question about it—he was going to get you back. But how?

He wasn’t about to hand over the TNT Wilbur so desperately wanted that easily. You two had even talked about it and why that would be a terrible idea—he promised you he wouldn’t. He knew that you would be absolutely heartbroken if he broke your promise, even if it meant saving you.

He gritted his teeth, a low growl escaping his throat. No one else besides you knew that he had even attempted to conspire with Wilbur. There was no one he could turn to for help.

It looked like he was going to have to do this himself.

Clay turned, a dark look forming in his eyes as he crumpled the note in his hands, the paper’s edges digging into his skin.

Even if he had to do it alone, there was one thing he was sure of.

He was going to bring you back home, safe and sound.

“You know, this is probably the most pathetic you’ve ever looked.”

You grimaced, the frown on your face deepening as you tugged against the ropes binding you to your chair.

“Thanks, Wilbur.”

To think you’d be kidnapped in the dead of night by Wilbur Soot of all people. And just to make matters even worse, you were tied to a chair in front of him wearing your pyjamas.

This might just be the most humiliating thing that had ever happened to you.

He flashed you a manic grin, spinning around with his arms outstretched. “Oh,” he sighed, pressing a hand to his cheek thoughtfully, “what do you reckon Dream’s feeling right about now?”

From his spot against the wall, Tommy muttered quietly, “He’s probably pretty fuckin’ pissed.”

Wilbur stopped his spinning, his expression falling flat as he tucked a hand under his chin. He nodded once, then twice. “Good. That’s good. We want him to be mad. We want him to be panicking.” He turned, casting a glance at you. “Do you think he’s panicking? Does Dream panic?” His deranged grin returned. “I would love to see him panic.”

You kept your mouth shut, an uneasy feeling churning in your gut. This was nothing like the Wilbur you remembered.

A cough came from your left, and your gaze darted to follow it. Tommy still leaned against the wall, his eyes lying on yours. He almost looked guilty standing there, his hands clenched into fists at his side. The moment your eyes locked onto his, he turned away. Your heart sank. Is Tommy in on this, too? A part of you didn’t want to believe it, but the other couldn’t imagine any other reason why he would be here.

“Say, [Y/N],” Wilbur said, his voice drawing your attention back to him, “how many blocks of TNT do you think Dream would be willing to give up for you?” He narrowed his eyes at you. “Just how much do you think you’re worth?”

You froze, staring down at your feet. That was a good question, one you weren’t quite sure you wanted to know the answer to.

On one hand, Clay loved you—you knew that. He had told you so more times than you could count. But at the end of the day, Clay wasn’t just Clay, the man you loved. He was also Dream, the genius mastermind. Was he really going to spend the resources to save you at the cost of so much? Would you be left to the mercy of a madman? The thought terrified you.

On the other, you were equally as terrified of just how far Clay might go. He was stubborn like that. If he came with the TNT in hand to trade for your safety, you knew you would be putting dozens of people’s lives on the line just for yours. That wasn’t a fair trade, either.

You felt sick to your stomach.

Taking a deep breath, you lifted your chin to meet his gaze. “Wilbur,” you said, trying to ignore the burn of the rope around your wrists, “this isn’t like you.”

He suddenly went still, and a stone of anxiety dropped into the pit of your stomach.

Maybe that was the wrong thing to say.

He whirled, a stony look crossing his features. “It isn’t?” he repeated slowly, taking a step toward you. “Oh, it isn’t?”

You gulped, a tinge of fear running down your spine as he stopped in front of you, bending over to be eye-level with you. His dark gaze bore into yours, almost as if his eyes were piercing right through you. His low voice wrapped around you, constricting you tighter than the rope binding you to the chair.

“The old Wilbur is long dead and gone now, [Y/N],” he whispered, deadly quiet, “and he isn’t ever coming back.”

You could only stare and try to calm the hammering of your heart in your chest.

Insane—he had gone absolutely insane.

Leaning back again, Wilbur gave you another once over before waving dismissively, turning his back on you. “Tommy,” he said, “put [Y/N] in the cell and make sure it’s locked until Dream shows up with his gifts.”

He began stepping away when he suddenly stopped, throwing one more glance over his shoulder. “Oh, and don’t even try to escape.” His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You and I know very well that you wouldn’t make it even five feet.”

With that, he strolled up the stairs, disappearing out of view. Your shoulders sagged with relief the moment he vanished from sight. You didn’t think you could stand locking eyes with him for another second.

It was then that you suddenly felt yourself losing contact with the ground, the chair being lifted along with you. You gasped, turning your head to see Tommy picking you up, his eyes averted from yours. You opened your mouth, then closed it when you saw just how much remorse was swimming in his gaze.

You watched silently as he carried you over to the empty cell carved into part of the ravine wall. Flinging open the iron bars with one hand, he pushed your chair inside with the other. Setting you down flat on the earth, Tommy slowly began untying the knots binding your wrists to the back of the chair. A few moments later, you felt the ropes unravel, the uncomfortably warm tightness of the rope finally giving way to the cool air. You rubbed at your wrists, wincing slightly at the aching of your skin.

Before you could even properly register what was happening, the sound of iron slamming against iron filled the air, and you whipped your head up to see Tommy shoving a key in the cell padlock. A loud click echoed off the stone walls as he turned the key, grimacing.

Your body moved without thinking. Scrambling forward on buckling legs, you bolted forward, your hands gripping onto the freezing iron bars to regain your balance. “Tommy,” you said, your wide eyes scanning his face for any sign of warmth. “Tommy, please—this isn’t right and you know it.”

He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he looked away, a guilty look flashing across his face. “I’m sorry, [Y/N],” he said quietly as he turned away, sorrow seeping into each syllable.

The words felt like a slap to your face, and you were stunned into silence as he walked off without another word. Not even Tommy—wild, reckless but good-intentioned Tommy—was on your side.

You were truly and utterly alone.

Turning, you took in the furniture in your cell. There was a single, small cot in the corner of the room, and a door located on the same wall as the headboard. You could only assume it led to a bathroom, Otherwise, the rest of the room was entirely barren with nothing to be seen.

So, this was what it was like to be a prisoner.

Something stung at the back of your eyes, your heart squeezing so tightly in your chest that it felt like it was going to burst. Letting go of the iron bars, you made your way across the room, climbing onto the cot and leaning your back against the wall. You curled up on the thin sheets, tucking your knees to your chest.

This wasn’t like the warmth of the bed you shared with Clay. It was cold, and barren, and so, so lonely.

You missed him, and it hurt.

You could only hope that the pain would fade with time.

Clay slammed his head into his desk, a deep sigh of pure frustration escaping his lips as his breakfast sat untouched beside him.

It had been two days since you’d been taken, and he had never felt so terrible.

He never realized just how much of his daily life revolved around you. He woke up with you, he ate with you, he slept next to you, he laughed with you, he loved you. It wasn’t until you had been ripped away from him that he truly understood how much you had woven yourself into his life.

He missed you more than he thought was humanely possible.

Staring down at his bowl, he shoved a spoonful of cereal in his mouth and began to chew. He couldn’t even begin to imagine just how awful Wilbur and Tommy were being to you, right now. Did they give you a bed to sleep on? Were they feeding you? How were you sleeping?

His mind absolutely swarmed with thoughts of you, consuming every empty space in his head, and he groaned. He couldn’t spend all his time contemplating ‘what if’s. He had to focus on the rescue plan. There was no way in hell that he was going to hand over that TNT—he promised you—but there was also absolutely no chance that he was going to abandon you.

He swallowed the mouthful, setting his spoon down as he clenched his jaw. The plan was complex, but do-able. Unfortunately, it was also risky—more risky than he’d like. Any sentence that included “[Y/N]” and “risky” was not a sentence he liked, to say the least.

He spared another glance at his cereal. It tasted like ash. Shaking his head, he stood up with a deadpan expression, walking over to the sink and reaching for the tap. Despite his calm demeanour, all he felt was rage—pure, unfiltered rage.

Just then, there came a knock at the front door.

Clay’s hand froze, halfway toward the tap. Grimacing, he turned on his heel to grab his mask from off the tabletop. With practiced ease, he attached the clasp to the back of his head, the cool plastic of his mask securely pressed against to his face.

Striding over to the lobby, he wrapped his hand around the handle, sucking in a breath and exhaling. Then, he pulled the door open, opening his mouth in greeting, but the words died in his mouth.

He stared at the figure standing in front of him, his eyes wide in disbelief.

This wasn’t who he was expecting at all.

“I want to help.”

You chewed on your lip, the cogs inside your head spinning at what felt like a million miles a minute as you stared long and hard at the stone wall.

How long has it been since you last saw daylight? You weren’t sure at this point.

You could hardly tell if it was day or night anymore. You could sometimes guess whenever you got a glimpse of Tommy’s bedhead when he brought food to you, but then you learned that the kid liked to take naps, so that went out the window.

You frowned, slumping over on your knees. This sucks. I’m completely and utterly useless. A wave of sadness washed over you. I want to go home.

A low whistle echoed through the ravine, a shiver running down your spine. If you could escape, you probably would have at this point. The problem was, you neither had the key to your cell, nor did you know where in the world you were even being held. You knew that it was somewhere underground of course, but that was hardly any basis to work with if you wanted to find your way back home.

Simply put, you were stuck, and all you could do was sit and wait.

You closed your eyes, picking up the thin blanket they had given you and wrapping it around yourself. You’d hardly gotten any sleep lately. Maybe you should at least try.

Some time passed in silence, your breathing gradually slowing down as your joints grew more relaxed. You were just on the brink of sleep when you were startled awake by the sound of a key turning.

Jolting, you lifted you head to see a figure swinging open your cell door and slipping inside. You jaw dropped.

“Tommy?” you said.

Immediately, he pressed a finger to his lips as his other hand shot out to grab your wrist, his gaze panicked. “Shh!” he hissed, his grip tightening. “Be fucking quiet, will you?”

You snapped your mouth shut, your eyes the size of saucers. Just what the hell is happening, right now?

With a tug, he pulled you to your feet, your mind still wracked with questions. You shot him a quizzical look, but he simply shook his head at you, dragging you forward and out of the cell. Your eyes swept across the ravine as he took a sharp turn, pressing you flat against the wall beside him.

There was a beat of silence. You held your breath.

Then your legs were flying out beneath you as he suddenly pulled you up the stairs you had seen Wilbur tread so many times before.

Right. Wilbur. Wasn’t Tommy on Wilbur’s side? You didn’t know anymore.

At the top of the stairs, rather than having reached the surface, you found yourself standing in a small dirt hut, with two beds pressed against the wall and a few chests lined up on the ground. You felt your confusion only grow as Tommy opened up a small hatch at the top before gesturing for you to climb up. You didn’t even bother asking before grabbing onto the sides of the trapdoor and housing yourself upward, gasping at the feeling of fresh air filling your lungs.

Above you, tall oak trees stood over you, the night sky shrouding the earth in darkness. You were in a forest, but most importantly, you were out.

You tumbled to the ground, your hands pressing into the dewy grass beneath you. You could hardly care that you weren’t even wearing shoes. A giddy smile crossed your face and you threw your hands into the air as you opened your mouth in a shout. “I’m ou—!”

A hand slapped over your mouth, cutting off your scream of delight. Tommy panicked face came into view in front of you, shaking his head wildly. “Don’t,” he mouthed, the word coming out silently, “say a word.”

You nodded, your eyes wide as you tapped at the back of his hand. He paused for a moment before removing it from your face, his shoulders sagging. He turned, quickly taking in his surroundings before gesturing for you to follow him.

You couldn’t help but make a face. Tommy was never careful. This had to be serious.

With each couple of steps he took, he would press himself up against a tree, waiting for a moment before continuing, making sure not to make a single sound. Following after you, you did the same, confusion continuing to make your head spin more and more with each passing minute.

After a little while, a clearing suddenly came into view, and Tommy abruptly stopped, holding his arm out to signal for you to do the same. Freezing, you oh-so slowly trailed after him as he ducked behind another tree trunk, peeking out just beyond the dark wood. You squinted your eyes into the dim clearing, trying to pinpoint just what exactly he was being so cautious of.

Your heart dropped.

There, in front of you, stood Wilbur, his back facing you. On the opposite side of the clearing was a masked Dream, a chest lying next to his feet.

He’s doing it, isn’t he? you thought. He’s giving up the TNT. Something inside you cracked. He’s breaking your promise.

You watched as Wilbur took a step forward, and you could hear his crooked smile as he spoke. “How kind of you to join me tonight, Dream.”

Dream didn’t respond, his mask as emotionless as always while his hand remained completely still atop the chest at his side.

Wilbur twisted to the side, waggling his fingers in neurotic excitement as he pointed at the chest. “Oh, is that a present for me? Did you really come all this way just to give me—little ol’ me—a gift?”

Dream patted the chest next to him, taking a few steps back as he spoke coolly. “It sure is.” He leaned forward in a subtle bow, gesturing toward the wooden case. “Why don’t you open it? I’m sure you’ll like what you’ll find.”

Wilbur let out a quiet sequel, skipping over to the chest with a bounce in a step. “Don’t mind if I do.”

You could see a bead of sweat roll down Tommy’s cheek beside you out of the corner of your eye, his cerulean eyes narrowed in what you could describe as pure stress. Wilbur crept up to the box, his gloved fingers slowly unbuckling the front clasp before ripping the top open with glee, only to come face to face with an all too familiar and grave sight.

It was empty.

Wilbur’s blood boiled as a whirlwind of images from the past shot across the back of his eyelids. He whipped his head around, his lips curling into a scowl only to fall away at the sight of Dream holding a stick of dynamite, the tail sparking with an ember.

His eyes widened, and you watched as Dream dropped the stick to the earth.

“You fu—”

The explosion was massive, immediately wracking the air with a deafening boom as ash flew into the air. Wilbur’s arms flung in front of his face, coughing as he covered it from the rising debris. Another explosion followed the first, then another. In an instant, the entire area was fogged over with thick, black smoke, completely obscuring his vision.

You swallowed, your mouth going dry as your gaze hopelessly searched for Dream in the dark.

Just then, a hand tapped on your shoulder.

You whirled with a start, coming face to face with a familiar white mask.

“Dream?” you whispered, your mind still reeling from the shock of everything that had just happened.

Without missing a beat, Tommy shoved you forward, pointing deeper into the woods. “Go, go, go!” he hissed into your ear. “This is your one fucking chance, just get the fuck out!”

You didn’t hesitate to heed his words, stumbling forward as you ran for your life. Adrenaline pumped itself into your veins like a lifeline, overriding your confusion and exhaustion. Behind you, you could hear Dream on your heels as Wilbur let out a roar.

“You bastard, Dream! Where the hell are you?”

You didn’t look back, sprinting with every ounce of energy that you had as the two of you broke out of the forest. Rushing down the hill that stretched before you, you could see Manberg glowing in the dark like a beacon of light just a few hundred feet away. If you made it into view of the Manberg, you would be safe—Wilbur couldn’t set foot there. Between you and safety lay a single river, and you knew exactly what you had to do.

Gritting your teeth, you leapt forward, the cold water splashing around you as you fell in. Another splash followed right after you, and if you weren’t underwater, you would have let out a sigh of relief. You kicked desperately, pushing yourself through the dark waves as you swam to the other side.

It only took a few moments for you to surface again, your hands making contact with the sand. Gasping for breath, you threw yourself onto the beach, your hair sticking to your face. A split second later, Dream was lying next to you, wheezing with laughter.

“That,” he gasped, “was amazing.”

You laughed. Of course that was the first thing he would say after pulling a stunt like that.

You pulled yourself onto your knees, the sand sinking around you and your soaking weight. Something warm brushed over your face, and you tilted your head back. Just in the distance, the sun was beginning to rise. In the sky. You didn’t think you would miss seeing the sky this much.

Framed by the light of dawn spilling over the horizon, Dream got onto one knee before you, tearing his mask off his face with one hand. His emerald eyes—oh, those lovely, emerald eyes—darted across your face, full of worry.

“Hey,” he said gently, reaching a wet hand towards your cheek, “why are you crying?”

You blinked in surprise and lifted a hand to your own cheek, only to pull it away to find that it was wet, and not from the river. Oh. You hadn’t realized you were crying. You opened your mouth to speak but was cut off by a choked sob flowing out of your throat. “I-I don’t know,” you admitted honestly. “All I know is that I’m really, really happy right now. Like, beyond happy.”

His touch was soft against your cheek. “I can tell,” he whispered. “It must have been scary.”

You nodded, your watery gaze blurring your vision. “It was—” Your voice cracked. “Wilbur was, and I missed you so much.”

He held your face in his hands, wiping away your tears with his thumbs. “You’re okay, I’m okay,” he murmured, his touch as light as a feather. “I’m here with you, now. Nothing can hurt you.”

You hiccupped, leaning your face into his calloused palm as aching relief washed over you. “I—” You swallowed. “How did you even find me? I thought Tommy was on Wilbur’s side.”

Clay smiled, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “He is,” he said softly, “but he also knows when to do the right thing.”

You smiled through your tears, your cheeks practically glowing with joy. You knew he was a good kid, even as demonic as he could be. You couldn’t believe you ever doubted him.

You sat there for a few moments more on the riverbank, taking shaky breaths as Clay murmured sweet nothings in your ear, brushing away every stray tear that ran down your face. As your breathing finally returned to normal, you felt the adrenaline finally fade, a certain fatigue taking its place. You slumped forward, his arms reaching out to catch you midway.

“Clay,” you said softly, your eyelids growing heavy, “I’m tired.”

He smiled down at you, pulling back. “Yeah? Okay.” Slowly, he positioned you upright and turned around, crouching down in front of you. “Here, get on my back.”

Carefully wrapping your arms around his neck, he grabbed onto each of your legs tightly before getting to his feet, hoisting you up onto his back securely. “Better?” he prompted.

You nodded sleepily into his neck, relishing in the warmth of his skin against yours, even if he was also sopping wet. “Mhm.”

A fond smile stretched over his face. “Perfect.” He faced forward, his eyes glimmering in the light of the new dawn.

“Then let’s go home.”

[girlsexbattle2]

An Epic to the Soot on the Ground

Before me lies a nightmare filled with soaring crows

An overgrown ordeal

The torn flag’s posture is as broken down as its will

Peaceful to the ignorant, a lake of misery to historians

You could question but you will never know how it feels

This hell brimmed with soul

Friends bound together, tightly attached

The future burned in our minds like our own personal star

But it shined with misdirection

With me in blinding lighting, time covered me in soot

A childlike wonder to be free of consequence

A wonder that claimed me, its king

Shadows attempted extinguishing that light

But with my words, we surpassed their void

We all stood secure, so certain we would never falter, how naïve

We aged eons the day power corrupted the weak

Consequently, our fate had perished

Yet our hope refused to falter

We sacrificed his only possessions for our privilege

If only we knew the lens they contort it

But for a single moment, we were given a breath, safe in our walls

When the people challenged our custody

We provided a contorted concept to cease our glory in adoration

What simple conclusion

Outsmarted in our own deceit we were cast out

We sank into the cracks in the hills provided with only the gun shells that followed

From there my own sanity flickered to wits end

Nostalgia and the boy who shared my exile the only amenity

So, I primed the ‘last’ stand

By now it had dawned on me that our nation had withered

Merely reestablished in bastardized name

How could I degrade its grave?

All plans floundered with pause

Yet my audience held with agency

He pleaded with the strongest warrior of this land to fight for us

One for the underdogs and not for regime, he obliged

A spy, once a warrior himself for our sake, captured as the equivocator’s man

He told us of a festival being held for our countries’ glory

The perfect time to infiltrate

What plot would I have contrived if the consequences had been known?

Unfortunately, the equivocator knew our ploy and made a scheme of his own

Poked our bear in his stomach and held him center stage,

Greek fire wavered in so-called sovereign hand, eyes scrambling for no superfluous onslaught

I’m sorry little one let’s hope this one doesn’t hurt.

Our spy was consumed by sparks

The attendance cried for a reason

The beast held none that could stand for its own

My anger fed the fight, ending up providing space for more aimless bloodshed

Roars echoed through the cage

This glow was squandered from the beginning

Boy wonder fell in a hit

This carnage is not what we fought for

One last stance

I screamed from the heavens that I would betray them

This infighting is not where forgotten love sleeps

Most laughed, those who saw my thinning ethos, de trope a dog hinder

A new member joined the audience

Amusingly, I promised to achieve Something in my lost life

A nemesis now welcoming with open arms

Baring dynamite in legions

Armies marched into our lost civilization

My smile others honor

It was solely me who would win, even if I had already lost

The match in my pocket burned to my skin

Butchery, pain and havoc ravaged the battlefield

Not that I could tell you

Hidden in the shadows of a looming room

A button sheepishly placed on the wall

Is it also unsure about my final revelation?

The anthem carved into the walls

This isn’t my first time alone

An unimpressed figure floats into my theater, grasping for my hubris

Time sails over him

The flight of the crow abruptly shifts

Screeching with the light that tormented me for so long

Arms reaching for a man not there

My nation

My unfinished symphony

Forever unfinished

Flown deep into the dirt of which it foraged

Embers char my face, but I smile in utter pleasure

I plea for this to be my epilogue

My desire for alleviation died long before me

Let me taste a fraction of the bloodshed my pen caused

The Father of the Flock folds

Yet death did not negate the power of words

Some long for a home they never will find

Persons never bathed in our torch managed to be marred by it.

Others took up my reins and desperately tried to build anew

That ended in more soot through which we both crawled

I cried every night, after love was smothered

And was burned by the scars which lived.

[neovisioned]

♡ꜜ eddie ate dynamite﹫johnny suh

fangs - matt champion PLAYLIST

pairing : johnny x reader (f), feat. ten as johnny’s best friend and roommate and jaehyun as your college friend. 

genre : fluff, another case of smut with too much plot, pianist!johnny, guitarist!reader, college!au, neighbour!au, strangers to friends to lovers, warnings : ten being a cockblock, it’s overall really cute. heavy making out, grinding, marking, slight choking, slight thigh riding, mutual masturbation, slight panty kink and menhandling, oral, penetration. word count : +22k synopsis : where you never really tried to make friends with your neighbours. after all, most of them – if not all – are families that would not have much time to talk to a college student. you don’t mind, you’d rather spend some time with your guitar. but your new young neighbour doesn’t seem as anti-social as you are, it’s eleven past meridiem when someone airdrops a tab sheet on your computer, you play it. a/n : i got this idea while i was showering just after i ordered my electric guitar, i also felt like shit so figured writing about my ult would cheer me up.

Calm and clean streets, pretty cherry trees dotted in red, small park filled with multicolor flowers, you remember the day you moved in your neighborhood like it was yesterday. You don’t say it much, but you love everything about your district. Yes, it might be mostly – if not totally – filled with small families and couples in their thirties, and they usually don’t have much to tell you, you still love the tranquility.

No college students being obnoxiously loud, no parties every week, no gatherings of wannabe frats.

You have to say, you got lucky. The small – but convenient and comfortable – apartment you’re ranting is what you could call a “perle rare”, a gem.

After searching and searching for anything that could fit a college student and it’s budget, you found this very building, freshly built. Only fifteen minutes away from the city center, exactly seventeen minutes away from your university, you couldn’t really believe your eyes, you even thought it was a scam at first. A more than decently sized apartment at the second to last floor, elevators, almost soundproof walls, balcony, big windows facing south, you couldn’t ask for more.

Even better, the owner was a family friend, a deal that made everyone happy was quickly made and, a few days after your twenty-first birthday, you moved in.

It was a bit more than a year ago and you have to say, you quickly made yourself at home, you didn’t mind leaving alone either. Besides, you had friends over a few times a month, and your family didn’t hesitate to visit without any notice.

Ah, and, a few days after moving in, you found this very cute and cosy coffee shop down the street. Oh, how you got addicted to their éclair au chocolat and their croissant. You’re a regular there, now, and the short brunette girl at the register still makes fun of you for your pronunciation. They also make a pretty good iced vanilla coffee, one you’re drinking this very moment, hands turning cold over the transparent plastic.

“Y/N, hey ! I have something for you !”, a voice you quickly grew familiar to sings the moment your badge opens the front door to your building. Sun Sangkyu, building H7’s concierge, doesn’t even wait for the glass door to close behind you to stand up from his chair, searching for the said “something”.

He’s a balding man, you’d say he’s around sixty-something years old. He agreed to work at the desk for good money despite his age, you remember him saying he loves it, it distracts him for the day while his wife volunteers with kids in a less wealthy area. Sangkyu wears big glasses that often fall down the bridge of his nose, eyes half moons whenever he smiles with his little diastema.

“Ah-a, I know what it is !”, you match his tone almost perfectly, a smile stretching your lips. Walking a bit closer to the men’s cubicle, one he customized so much it contrasts with the minimalist style of the entrance.

Red banner for the Chinese New Year, you’re surprised he did not take it down sooner. Next to it, he has multiple drawings from the kids in the building, pictures of him, his wife and kids.

“There it is. Such a tiny box, what did you order ?”, he asks, and the middle aged men doesn’t hesitate to shake the box a little, bringing it to his ear. He’s a bit too curious for his own good, but you don’t mind, it’s funny.

“Guitar picks.”, you tell him with a laugh once he lets the cardboard box fall into your waiting hands.

At that, he frowns.

Small pout on his thin lips, his dark brown eyes shift to the left as he tried and search in his memory.

“But…What about the ones you brought last winter ?”, he asks carefully, almost like he’s scared of not recalling things well. But, after all, you were the only guitarist in the building.

“I…lost them…”, you answer after a few seconds of silence, like a child admitting they misplaced something to their father.

“Ya…”, his instinct kick in with the noise escaping his face, slightly rolling his eyes, drawing out the last letter. “Anyways, I have something else for you.”, he looks at something on the floor, probably where he left his leather bag.

“But, I didn’t or-.”

“My wife made some yesterday !”, he cuts you abruptly, wide toothy smile as he slides a paper bag. And, oh, you already know what they hold by the smell alone. Baozi, steamed stuffed buns Sangkyu’s wife can make like a real master, your mouth salivates with the thought alone.

“Oh, bless her.”, a sigh tumbles from your lips, clenching the small bag against your chest. As you open your mouth to thank him, the slight buzz of the door opening catches your attention. You notice a rather tall men pushing the door with his back, strong arms holding boxes.

“Thank you very much, Sangkyu. Have a nice day !” You conclude with a smile, nodding as the oldest returns the gesture, face already towards the unknown men.

You don’t pay much attention, quickly walking towards the elevator with your two precious items in hand. Your index taps the code and your floor number like a mechanism and, just before the metallic doors close, you catch the unknown men sighing, “One more box and we’re done, Mister Suh !” Ehm, the apartment on the second floor probably found a new owner, you think at first, the thought brushed away in a second.

The ride to your floor is a quick one, your full attention on the small box in your hand, one you’re trying to open as best as you can. But you quickly find hard to rip the thick duct tape with your left hand occupied with the wrapped food.

“Oh, fuck !”

What was meant to happen, happened. As the feminine yet weirdly robotic voice announces your floor with a “Floor number nine, floor number nine.”, you drop the small box. The cardboard hits the floor with a small sound, laying lifeless a few centimeters away from your shoes. Great, that will teach you. Leaning down, you pick the box up with a sigh, straightening your back as the grey metallic doors open in front of you, left wrist twisting to let your digits wrap around your keys. And it’s your turn to frown. Eyebrows furrowed, you take a step forward, taking your body out of the elevator before the doors close and head down again.

Boxes, boxes everywhere. Your door’s on the left, body naturally facing your apartment but your eyes can not help but look at the overwhelming amount of…stuff laying there. Probably a dozen cardboard boxes in the hallway, the door’s open to the empty apartment if it’s not for all the wrapped furniture in the entrance. Uh, so it’s not the second floor. You have to say, you’re a bit surprised. When you moved in, you remember this very apartment being owned by a middle-aged woman, the fake blonde told you about the three other places she owned and ranted all year around. Be it to travelers, students, young adults. Someone ranted it for two months at best, before moving out, you don’t even remember their faces, to be honest. You never asked why it was always empty, you just figured the area was more appealing to families that would rather buy their own place rather than rant it for god knows how much.

Well, seems like you have a new neighbor. Maybe, just maybe, you’ll introduce yourself later, once they’ll be done with moving in. Let’s be real, you’re not Bree Van de Kamp from Desperate Housewives but, you were well raised. Ah, and, you should probably tell them about your habit of playing the guitar a bit too late at night, you think as you finally take your attention off the open apartment and go for your own. Everything might be pretty well isolated, you don’t want to risk starting beef with people you barely know leaving right next to you.

Plus, who knows, maybe they’re nice.

Knife stabs the duct tape, the brown layer easily ripping under the sharp object. Comfortably sat on your bed, you quickly tear the cardboard with your hands, leaving the packaging on the floor of your bedroom, neatly leaving the small bag of picks you ordered on your white sheet.

It’s around ten and a half post meridiem when you finally get around opening your order. College life is one you knew would be busy, but seventeen years old you never knew you’d spend hours on an essay’s introduction. But thank god, you finished a good chunk of your assignment, showered, ate and now, it’s time for a bit of relaxation.

It’s sort of a ritual for you, a way to reward yourself after a productive day. You take a long shower or a good bath – it depends on the bath bombs you have in stock –, you eat a good, hot meal and get to your room for some alone time with none other than your beloved guitar.

The sun’s already set, the streets’ lights filling your bedroom. And, that’s when you notice the dim light coming from the room right on front of you. The layout of every apartment being identical, you know it’s another bedroom, few meters away from your own. It’s a bad habit you developed after your old neighbor left, you’d pull your curtains to the side and eventually took them out, they clashed with your room’s aesthetic anyways. After all, if no one was leaving there, you would let your window wide open for a bit more light.

You figure you should maybe go and find where you stacked them and get ready to struggle for an hour before eventually, putting them up again. But for now, you don’t mind, if your new neighbor actually pulls his curtains to look outside, all they will be able to see’s your light purple colored walls, paintings and pictures, your overly packed schedule stuck right on top of your desk.

You don’t let your mind wonder too much, after quickly opening the thin packaging, you let the small plastic picks fall on your bed. Medium sized, you choose the color you like the best, abstract design in red, black and white. Now that you think about it, you really don’t know where the six other ones disappeared, you even used to keep the last one in your phone case.

Digits wrap around the slender neck of your electric guitar, picking it up from the stand it rested on for a few days now, instrument easily finding its place on your lap. Ah, how you love the feeling of the smooth material under your fingertips, left hand on the body to keep it from falling as you lean forward. The Jack cable you left laying there a few days ago moved a bit, hiding under your bed but you’re quick to grab it, plugging it where it belongs. A flick of the wrist, you turn on your amplifier, turning a few settings. Now that you have neighbors, maybe you should turn the volume a bit down. Until now, you could play as loudly as you wanted thank to the building’s isolation and a few other…reasons. The men living right above you was a bit older than Sangkyu, and he had a few hearing problems, plus he didn’t mind the music at all even if he heard it a bit, when your window was opened. The women leaving right under you is in her mid-thirties, a nurse that had a working schedule you cannot wrap your head around. One thing you know, she’s never there from nine post meridiem to some ungodly hour in the morning.

You’ll talk to your new neighbors tomorrow anyways, brushing the thought off as you place the strap on your shoulder.

“Eddie ate dynamite.”, you mumble under your breath, pick plucking at the three top strings. In tune, great. “Good bye Eddie.”, the three last strings are slightly out of tune, but your quickly arrange that with a few twists. Right hand flat on the six strings, you stand up from your bed, walking to your desk with a few steps. You had left a tab sheet open on your devise before going for your bath, screen lighting up as you open it. It’s a song you practiced once a few weeks back before forgetting about it. Bold, black letters, “Fangs – Matt Champion”.

Eyes scanning the numbers, your fingers quickly find the strings without you needing to even look at your guitar’s neck. Your body follows quickly, shoulders and head moving at the rhythm, it’s a chill tune you can warm your fingers up to. It’s a moment you adore, when your entire building’s silent, fresh breeze of the early summer sneaking into your room, multicolor lights flashing in your bedroom (tiktok made you buy them). Tones and sounds of stings being pulled fill your room, it’s no hard for you to remember the notes at the end, eyes closing as you finish the song.

A good song to start on, you think before opening your eyes and…?

“What’s that ?”, you ask out loud, eyes squinting at the window that opened itself on your screen. Apparently, someone’s trying to airdrop something. It’s probably a mistake, you think at first. A weird mistake, for sure, your laptop clearly had your name on it. Your index finger’s about to decline the request before you take a look at the actual picture sent. Is that…A tab sheet ? Your eyebrows furrow a bit more. Clearly, this was not a mistake. Eye travel to the window, could it be ? Your neighbor’s room is now lit up, but you can’t make anything up in it, unconsciously waiting for a head to pop-up. But hélas, no movement comes from the other side. It could come from anyone, but you doubt

“The Less I know The Better – Tame Impala”.

Ah, you’re not a stranger to the song, you have it in multiple playlists, but you never took the time to look at the tabs. At least the person has some good taste. It’s a weird situation for sure, is this…a request ?

Unconsciously, your fingertips press on the right strings. Eh, might as well try it, right ? Tune familiar, you go through the intro easily, though maybe you should’ve taken something to loop the sound. Irises focused on your screen, you try your best not to mess up, eyes sometimes traveling from your computer to the neck of your guitar. Brown polished wood glow under the purple light, it softly transitions to blue, green, and you stop after the chorus.

Maybe you’ll keep the sheet.

Cold morning breeze, sounds of a city waking up. Birds singing a bit too loudly, a few cars driving by, chatter from families and young adults all around, voices muted by how high you’re apartment is.

You follow along, body turning in your bed, though maybe in a less graceful way, softly shaking the sleep out.

You changed your sheet right before going to sleep, after playing a few other songs, flowery fragrance comforting, nose deep into the soft fabric. You almost think about not leaving your bed but hélas, you have some classes to attend today.

At least, they’re starting a bit late. Sleepy eyes shift to your clock, the very one that woke you up, nine ante meridiem, you have an hour to get ready, that should be enough.

Another bad habit, your hand grabs your phone as you roll over to your side, cheek squished on your pillow, one eye closed. Maybe you should not do that, apparently the second eye's vision can and will go down if you do this too much. You have an appointment soon anyways, working on your computer all day long got your eyes dry.

Checking mails, social media, texts, you tour your phone before finally stepping out of bed.

Music theory class, multiple hours of it. But, at least, it didn’t end late at all, today was your only free day. But again, depends on what is your vision of freedom, you'll probably end up at the bakery slash coffee shop down the street to study a bit more.

Arms stretching above your head, your lips part in a yawn you quickly hide behind your hand. Fuck, you probably slept on your arm, shoulder aching under your fingertips massaging the muscle.

Walking around your bed, you take a few steps, dragging your feet on your floor towards your window. You needed a bit of fresh air before anything else.

The weather's pretty good today, you note as you fully step in front of your window, skin gratefully taking in the sunlight, a few white clouds here and there in the sky but nothing to complain about. The sun seems to already be heating the air up, maybe you can go for a light coat today, or a thick top alone.

Naturally, your eyes fall straight forward, to the very window you were looking at the night before.

Curtains pulled to the side, your curiosity gets poked, maybe you can have a quick look at the room, right ?

It looks empty anyways, you think at first, but it seems the universe wants to annoy you a bit today. Just as you're about to detail the room opposite to yours, a figure walks in.

His shadow is the first thing you see, stretching on the beige painted walls of the room before he eventually steps in front of his window as well.

Fortunately for your dignity, the men has his back turned but how... Broad do they look, even from a distance.

You have no idea why, but you're stuck there, one side of your brain telling you to leave before you get caught and inevitably get label as the creepy neighbor while the other whispers that you might want to see the strangers' face.

Shoulder blades move against the tanned skin, hands quickly run in his honey colored locks, pushing them back, it seems your neighbor's getting ready too.

That's when you realize your hand's still gripping your window's handle, right hand falling to your side, you really should go and get ready too but... You wonder, is he the one that sent you the tab sheet yesterday ? Wouldn't you want to put a face a the music taste ?

As you're about to take a step back, the men turns slightly, applying what you can only assume is cream to his face, digits running down his jawline as he angles his head as desired. And oh, the one second long glimpse you get at his profile is enough to make your lips part.

Shiny locks falling in front of his eyes, straight nose, full lips, sharp jawline, a curse almost falls down from your lips. You'd think anyone would find the guy attractive from the small peak you just got but... Isn't this a bit... Weird ? You suddenly feel like a whole voyeur, your eyes detaching from the stranger as your morals kick in.

He doesn't look like a father, or maybe he's very young father ? But again, you didn't see anything for a baby yesterday, nor did you hear one crying yesterday night...

Maybe he moved in here with his significant other, even though young couple usually go for the other side of the city.

Or maybe, he's a college student like you are, does he have a roommate ?

Pupils traveling up again to the window, you're about to get on your toes for a better look. Maybe you should say introduce yourself tonight, rather than guessing and throwing hypothesis out there. And maybe, just maybe, you want to get a better look at his face.

He turns around, you duck to the side.

It’s around six after meridiem when you finally, finally get up from the sit you occupied for several hours now. Maybe you should’ve taken a break between two massive paragraphs to write, you think as your arms stretch up above your head. Thank god, the beloved coffee you decided to drop your bag in had some comfortable light beige chairs, cushion as still cloud-like, exactly like you found them the first day you entered the shop.

You wonder how they keep them so clean, someone must’ve dropped their dark coffee or chocolate on the unforgiving fabric at least once, you surely fear being one of these clients.

“You done ?”, familiar voice hums, and you just nod at the question, eyes falling on the black clock right behind the counter.

“Yeah, I can’t think anymore.”, you tell your friend, hand grabbing the second cup of coffee you brough, shaking it lightly to estimate the amount of liquid left. Jaehyun, maybe your closest friend in your university, pouts at that. Dirty blonde hair fall in front of his eyes as he grounds, before he lets his forward press against his computer’s touchpad. The poor guy had been struggling for an hour now, the rhythm of his fingers tapping on his keyboard gradually loosing speed. You have to say, you were in the same situation, writing and rewriting the same sentences again, brain refusing to cooperate after already vomiting out a few large paragraphs. But, unlike your friend, you decided to stop there for the day, you still had a full week to finish it anyways.  

“I can’t do this anymore.”, the Korean grounds again, dramatic nature kicking in as his head snaps back, rolling backwards, the men cannot go a day without faking death.

“Save it, we still have a week to do it.”, you sigh out, but you don’t hide the smile growing on your face at his antics. Though, you don’t wait for his answer, saving your own file before closing your laptop.

“Six days. Six.”, he corrects, like a day changes anything anyways. See, Jaehyun needs to turn his paper in a single day before yours, since he had chosen to attend the very class twenty-four hours before you. Rolling your eyes, you know the men cannot read your facial expressions, bag turned as you drop all your belongings into your bag.

“You gonna stay ?”, you simply ask, there’s no need for you to point out the slight difference in days. Jaehyun nods fingers running on his touch pad as he zooms out his Word Documents, eyes scanning over his six pages for any underlined errors. “Well, good luck. I didn’t finish this, want it ?”, you ask, eyebrows slightly raised as you push the still fresh iced coffee towards your friend, who doesn’t need more, lips wrapping around the straw.

“Text me when you’re home.”, Jaehyun mumbles, mouth filled with tiny ice pieces, pieces he quickly swallows. “Don’t work too late, text me too.”, you finish it like you too usually do, quickly waving before you walk out of view.

“Are you done, Y/N ?”, another familiar voice calls you out, one you know pretty well by now. See, the coffee shop is getting more and more exposure as days go by, but it does not meet the owner and workers will forget about the regulars, like you. “For the day, yeah. Still have a few things to write but I should be done tomorrow or the day after.” You smile at the brunette, Hana, coffee “Flâner”’s cashier. As said, she’s a brunette with the longest locks you’ve ever seen. Or maybe she has black hair, you think it depends on the lighting. Anyways, she’s been there since the opening, working 4 days a week, greeting costumers with a smile and a light French accent whenever she spoke, thought you remember her saying she was born somewhere else.

“Ah, I hope you’ll have a good grade !”, she says cheerfully, black irises leaving your form as she places some cakes into their signature black box. “Is…Jaehyun staying ?”, the smallest asks, even behind the counter, you can’t help but notice her small, petite figure. It’s like she doesn’t dare to look at you, and a small smile stretches your lips. Oh…She doesn’t hide her crush very well. You wonder, is Jaehyun staying late for another reason as well ?

“Ah, yeah. He’s proofreading what he wrote today.”, you explain, fainting obliviousness.

“Oh, alright !”, she responds with a smile, eyes flickering from your figure to the your friend’s. You’re about to leave, let them somewhat alone if you forget about the three other costumers drinking their tea, when your eyes fall the small cakes she’s arranging behind the glass. And god, how they look tasty. You guess they’re make of a chocolate mousse, a shortbread at the bottom, your mouth salivates. As said, you’re not the Bree Van de Kamp of your building but, if you’re going to greet your new neighbors today, shouldn’t you bring something ? And no, you’re definitely not doing this because of what happened this morning, no way.

“What are these ?”, you ask, taking a step closer.

“Un royal !”, she answers in French, your eyes squint as you try to say it back. How the fuck does she do that -r sound.

“Can I have two of them ? And a croissant, please.”, you order, hand already fishing for your phone. God, this shop will make you go bankrupt, they will also make you addicted to their food, if you’re not already.

“Sure, ma’am !”, the young girl answers, before she grabs yet another black box. Fingers push the cardboard until it takes the shape desired, iron tool dropping the cakes into it. You’ve done this so many times, it’s ironic. Right hand grabs the box, left hand turning your phone screen towards the young girl so she can scan the code.

“Thank you, good bye !”

“See you soon, Y/N !”

The glass door is pushed with a shoulder, smile stretching your painted lips when you give another look inside the shop, catching Jaehyun walking up to the counter. “Buying three coffees isn’t a way to flirt, Jaehyun.”, you laugh to yourself before leaving.

It looks like the sun is about to set, sunlight a lot less aggressive compared to the beginning of the afternoon. Cakes in hand, the walk to your building is a short one, though you come across the Hwang family from the fourth floor going to the park, greeting the mother with a smile, waving lightly at the twins she’s holding hands with. Ah, you really do love this area, you think as you walk along the park’s barrier, catching a few giggles and screams from young kids. And, from the sound of it, they started opening the water in the fountains.

“Cakes again !”, Sangkyu might be on the older side, he still has some sharp eyes, you note. The door closes behind you with a small noise, the lock activating itself. “Yes, cakes again.”, you say, shooting him a fake-ly offended glare, left hand to your chest. “But these aren’t for me, they’re for the new neighbor.”, you point out, walk slowing down in front of the men’s cubicle.

“Ah ! Mister Suh and…”, his face contours as he tries his best to recollect the second name. Oh, maybe it was a couple, good thing you got two cakes, even though you got one for yourself… “Right ! His roommate, Mister Leechayapornkul !”, his features light up with a smile as he correctly – you assume – recollects the second name. Ah, a roommate, you think, interesting. “Oh, I didn’t know they were two. I’m going to introduce myself now.”, you tell him with a smile.

“Ah, by the way, have you heard ? Miss and Mister Jeon want to organize something for the building’s anniversary, I’ll keep you up to date !”

On that, you leave the old men with a smile, quickly strolling to the elevator. The metal cubicle stops at the third floor, a young girl you don’t really know polite greets you before pushing the fifth button floor, she’s probably friends with the kids on that floor.

“Floor number nine, floor number nine.”, the metal doors open on your small hallway, and for the first time, you walk towards the right door. Deep, dark green color like yours, your shoes barely make a noise on the light beige carpet as they lead you to your neighbors’ place. You stay there for a second, mind questioning the dumbest things, should you wait a bit ? How many times should you knock…? Raising your fist up, the first joints of pointer and middle finger tap a few times on the dark wood. One, two, three. You wait.

Though, everything seems silent, if it’s not for the small noise of the elevator going up and down. Are they…Not there ? A small pout on your lips, you shift on your feet, both hands grabbing onto the black box. The apartment was silent, you guessed your new neighbors were not there, your luck.

From : Jaehyun, 8:37 pm. : “im home !!” : “ended up proofreading and wrote the second to last part” The well familiar name flashes on your phone, alongside a picture you took when you visited his family on the country side. Jaehyun’s rather tall body’s folded as he tries to ride on a small tricycle, legs so long his knees are above the handlebars. Quickly, your thumbs tap on the small keyboard as you walk toward your room.

After entering your bedroom, you decided to eat a bit earlier, taking a shower before going back to your guitar. The shower was a cold one, if the sun had already set, the air was dense, heavy. Moments after stepping out of your shower, a thin layer of sweat managed to gather around your hairline. It’s like the weather suddenly switched to the middle of summer, and you definitely were not ready for it.

To : Jaehyun, 8:38 pm. : “is it because of the third coffee you bought :D ?”

To : Jaehyun, 8:40 pm. : “…i do not know what youre talking about .” To : Jaehyun, 8:40 pm. : “when are you gonna ask her ?”

You send the message before locking your phone, throwing the devise on your bed. You’re quick to set up your guitar, since you left you amp’ plugged in yesterday. Right index flicks the switch up, before you plug the Jack cable in. However, as you’re about to flop on your bed again, you notice the screen of your phone lightening up as your college friend calls you.

“How did you know ?”, it the first think he asks, tone whiny, the second you accept the call and press the speaker button. “It is very much obvious, Jaehyun.”, you laugh out, left hand finding its place around the neck of your black and white guitar as you bring it on your lap.

“Do you she’s int-.”, Jaehyun starts as you play out a few random chords, thumb stroking the six strings ever so softly. “Yes.”, you cut him before he even manages to finish his sentence. “She’s into you. I thought you knew.”

“I, uh, I wasn’t sure.”, he mumbles, and you hear his fork pick whatever his eating. After hanging out around the male for some years now, you figured your good friend was a bit clueless when it came to his looks and charms. Yes, Jaehyun knows that’s he’s handsome, you don’t miss the opportunity to remind him whenever he gets dressed up or send you a selfie, as a good and supportive friend.

But, Jaehyun doesn’t really weight the affect he has on girls, guys, and everyone in between. You remember when this guy in your Music Therapy class, and another girl, you don’t really remember what hear studies were about, but she was in your distant group circle and they both had a big – massive – you’d say, crush on your friend. You remember both of them throwing some light hints at first, thought the girl went a bit harder after as the first eventually dropped it. Jaehyun, him, was completely oblivious until you told him one night, when he was staying over after a night out. “Ask her out already !”, you sign out, left hand over your guitar’s string, blocking any sound.

“I will soon, okay ! Give me some time, I’m…Thinking about the right way to do it.”, your friend starts, drinking something in between his words. “Anyways, moving on ! How’s your neighbor ?”

You sigh at the question, opening your laptop as you search in your files for something to play, you really should organize your things a bit better, you think to yourself.

“They weren’t there.”, you breath out, eyes unconsciously flickering to the window. From this angle, you can’t really see much, apart from the vague shapes behind the curtains, yellowish light on before you even came in your room.

“They ? Oh…Is it a couple ?”, Jaehyun asks, tone slightly disappointed. See, this morning, you obviously told your friend about the airdrop…Thing. Obviously, you had texted him before going to sleep but decided to keep much of the details for a real life conversation. After a hushed story-time, eyes travelling to your teacher every now and then to make sure he was not looking at you, you told him about what happened this morning.

Of course, it immediately poked the blonde’s curiosity, who would not be. As said, you and Jaehyun had been friends for some years now. When you two met, he was in a relationship that ended a few months after, you being there for him had strengthen the bond, he had been single ever since and you, had been single all the way. Sure, you had a few crushes, two or three people shooting there shot but, the crushes were always short-lived, nothing serious.

So, when Jaehyun heard that you found someone attractive after months of radio silence of the channel of your earth, someone who lives next to you at that, your friend jumped on the occasion, already hoping for something to happen before you even got to introduce yourself to the guy.

“I don’t know, Sangkyu said they’re two roommates.”, you inform, trying to recall the two names the oldest men told you hours before.

“…Are you sure you don’t want me to stalk ?”, Jaehyun proposes for the second time today. As soon as you finished your small story this morning, the Korean asked if you wanted him to do some stalking, promising and selling his apparently, amazing, skills in the domain.

“Jaehyun, no. I didn’t even introduce myself.”, you breathe out, half-desperate, half laughing at his antics. “Alright, alright. Go see them soon, alright ?”, there’s a small silence, you simply hum at his question. “Play me something while I do the dishes.”, your friend yawns and you oblige pretty quickly, after finally finding a song to practice to. Maybe you need a little more practice on the song, one by Frank Ocean in the “channel ORANGE” album he put out in 2012, if you recall correctly. On the other line, the sound of water running and dishes being done drowns the voice of your friend slightly singing to the song, one you two have on the collective Spotify playlist you have. Your attention stays on your screen, just in case you forget a chord and, as you’re starting the second chorus, something comes between your eyes and the sheet. Your hand comes flat on your guitar strings, stopping the music at once. You already know what it is.

Jaehyun does not stop the water, but his voice does comes closer, microphone muted every now and then as you hear him struggle. “Why did you- Oh, fuck, nooo. There’s sop everywhere.” You laugh breathlessly at his whines, eyes quickly looking at the black screen of your phone, like you’d be able to see your friend. Though, you hear him wipe his screen, cloth going over his microphone again.

“There ! Why did you stop ?”, he asks, bringing his mouth a bit too close to his phone. Staying silent for a second, your finger tap on yet another Airdrop. “He sent another one.”, you simply say, a bit quietly, as if your neighbor will be able to hear you. Pupils look over at the window, you almost want to get up and walk to your window but…

Jaehyun gasps softly over the phone, “Play it, play it.”, he says as you’re scanning the sheet sent. And oh, he’s that type. It’s crazy how two songs alone help you draw a quick sketch of your neighbor’s personality, or his music taste at the very least. Unlike yesterday, you don’t hesitate and open the file sent, though you have to say you already know the chords.

“Jae’. He sent The Neighbourhood’s Daddy Issues.”, you squick into the phone after grabbing into with your right hand. Jaehyun knows well, you still love the band but had an unhealthy obsession a few years back, not to mention your massive crush on Zach Abels.

“Oh. Ooh. He’s like that.”, Jaehyun notes as well, before he presses you again to play it. Urged by your friend, you lean forward to adjust the reverb on your guitar. “That’s…Kinda hot, though.”, your friend whispers out and you, yourself, can’t comprehend the sound that comes from your lips, something between a laugh and a choked gasp.

“Jae’…What ?”

“No, but, I mean…Daddy Issues, that’s hot.”, he tries to explain himself, you quickly shut him up by running your fingers over the six strings. You don’t really need to look at the tabs, from memory, your fingers find their rightful place.

“3D, 5D, 3G, 5D, 5B, 5G.”, you say as you play the notes, humming the rest as you play the intro.

“C minor, G minor, B flat major.”, and from then, you remember the song pretty easily. Between two chords, you turn the volume on your guitar up, just to make sure your neighbor’s hearing you play.

“That’s flirting.”, concludes Jaehyun once you’re done with the song, you know him well enough to know his mouth a bit agape.

“It is not.”, you tell him, though you’re not sure yourself what this is.

“You have to talk to him like, right now.”, he urges so loudly you have to turn the volume on your phone down.

“Now ? No ! I’m in my pyjamas, and I don-.”, you start, and it’s your friend’s turn to cut you off. “’kay, okay ! Go talk to him tomorrow, please ?”

“I will, don’t worry.”, you start, but before you can continue, you’re phrase’s cut again but this time, it’s by…A piano.

Your mouth parts for a second, a single syllable falling from your lips before you close your mouth. The tune’s familiar, but you never heard in played on a piano. Your head slowly raises, eyes fixated on your window.

“Can you hear this ?”, you quietly ask Jaehyun, who answers with a soft “Yeah”, sounding as dumbfounded as you do. Slowly, you get up from your bed, leaving your guitar on your bed, that’s when you realize how hot it is. The fabric of your shirt sticks to your skin, hands lacing into your hair as your push them up in a makeshift ponytail to let your neck get some air.

It's after a few notes that you finally put your finger on it. The Weeknd's last album, “After Hour”. “Repeat after me.”, you tell Jaehyun, I single “Oh” coming from his lips as he recolls the song.So he's a musician as well, you conclude easily. You never heard anyone play this very song on the piano, you wonder if it's his own arrangement.

On the other end of the line, the blonde's silent, carefully listening to the soft piano tunes as you do the same. Few steps take you to your window again, just like you did this morning. This time, curtains are pulled to the side, enough for you to  see the same broad shoulders under a black hoodie, back straight as his head hangs down towards the keyboard.

From your spot, you can't really see his fingers, but you do see his hands quickly running over the black and whites, pressing confidently. Seeing a pianist's always mesmerising, eyes stuck on the figure, you try your best to get a better view but, what can you do from your room ?

When the song ends, unlike this morning, you don't hide behind your wall. Your neighbor doesn't move, stretching his arms above his head, fingers laced together, a curse falls down your lips.

“Y/N. Send him a sheet.”

It's around five in the afternoon when you find yourself in front of your neighbor's door, holding a black box of cakes, for the second time this week. Your classes had ended two hours earlier today and maybe, maybe you should use that time to work on your assignment but since last night, you don't think you can go another day without introducing yourself to the building's new people. Plus, you have enough time, you tell yourself.

It's ironic, isn't it ? You weren't the type to go out of your way to speak to your neighbors, most didn't have a lot in common with you but now. Now, this nameless, a bit too handsome young guy moves in and you're bringing some patisseries in front of his door.

Music brings people together, you've always thought, you've always known and this, this is a pretty good example. You're pretty sure you wouldn't have went out of your way like this if the guy didn't send you a tab sheet, if he didn't play last night.

Like yesterday, you bring your first up, knocking a bit more confidently this time, thought you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding.

You barely have the time to let your hand fall down to your side when a deep, voice a bit far away let's out. “Coming !”

Of course, broad shoulder guy had to have a deep voice to go along side.

“Oh, hi.”, your soul almost jumps out of your body when the deep green door abruptly opens to reveal none other than your - handsome - neighbor.

“Hi...! Uh, I'm your next door neighbor, the name's Y/N.”, you let out, maybe you should thank your past self for practicing this very line right before stepping out of your apartment.

Your right hand's stretched out in front of your for him to shake, but your attention's on something else. Deep brown eyes stare down at you, they almost make you feel small. Or maybe they're a honey brown, you wonder as the plane blocking the sun finally moves away to reflect into his eyes.

Yes, definitely honey brown eyes, the same eyes that turn a crescent shape, just like before a full. moon.

He smiles at you with the same full lips you saw from your window, hands wrapping around your own.

“Ah, yes. Johnny, nice to meet you !”, he says, hand slowly shaking your own. Finally, a name on the face. You quickly notice the slight simple in the middle of his cheek before he lets go of your hand.

“Oh, I bought some cakes from the coffee shop down the street.”, you tell Johnny, both hands one the black box.

At this, his lips turn from a smile to an - o shape, eyes round. Maybe you guessed right at the moon phase.

“You didn't have to !”, your neighbor blurs out, hands at his sides for a few seconds before they eventually accept the gift when you slightly push the box towards him. Your eyes fall to his hands for a quick second and yes, definitely some pianist hands.

“It's just a small welcome gift ! I wanted to drop them yesterday but, I think you weren't there.”, you explain, a lot, lot more relaxed, though turning your attention away from the men's hands. This isn't the moment nor the place.

“Ah yeah, me and Ten we're out for the first grocery shopping trip.”, he explains, right shoulder leaning against his door frame. You get a quick glimpse at the apartment itself, though you don't look at it too long, everything looks already set up. You remember taking a week to get everything as home-like, but you guess having a second pair of arms help.

“Ten ?”, you ask, right hand wrapping around your left upper arm. Probably the one Sangkyu was talking about the other day.

“Yeah, he's my roommate.”, Johnny answers, letting a silence settle between the two of you. “Do you want to come in ? I won't be able to eat two cakes by myself.”, the men proposes after a few seconds, pupils landing on the black box. He probably saw the two cakes thank to the transparent part of the cardboard box, at the top.

Come in ? And... Eat with him ? Suddenly, your palms grow sweaty, slightly shifting one foot to another. “Oh, but. Your roommate.”, you mumble out.

Sure, at first, you bought two cakes, one for him and one for you. Though you thought you'd eat them by yourselves, when Sangkyu told you about the second person living there, you figured you'd keep the two cakes for your two neighbors.

“He's at his parents’ house to get some things, he won't be there until the day after tomorrow.”, the brunette tells you with a smile. His body moves a bit more, enough to let you enter. “Come on, I need someone to help me eat all of this.”

How can you say no to this ?

“Wait, it ends like that ? There’s no way he does that.”, laughs Johnny, a full laugh that shakes his chest, right under his plain white t-shirt. Short sleeves rolled up to his shoulders, his body leans back, black jeans covered legs spread on his one person sofa.

“I swear he does, watch the second season !”, you interject quickly, straw mixing the iced tea in your long glass, ice cubes clashing against each other before eventually melting away.

“Yeah, I guess I will…! I never thought he’d kill her.”, you neighbor says, and he seems genuinely choked, bushy eyebrows raised.

After taking a step in his apartment, the pianist led you to the biggest sofa, where he left you for a few minutes. People say boys are bad at decorating their place, but you have to say Johnny and Ten’s apartment was already looking pretty good. Beige walls, a few black and white pictures were hung up right above the dark sofa. Wide windows on your left, your apartment has the opposite view. While you have a view towards the city center, street lights fascinating at night, Johnny has an amazing view on the park.

Large television right in front of you, you quickly notice de PlayStation 4 and switch neatly placed under it. On your right, just like your apartment, the small open kitchen, counter the only thing separating the two rooms. The honey-eyed seemed to have found his marks easily, navigating in the kitchen quickly. After taking out two plates and two small spoons, he placed the two cakes, refusing your help every time you offered it.

“Iced tea ?”, he had asked, taking out two long glasses when you agreed. Red hibiscus iced tea was poured and handed, before he sat in front of you. You do not remember well how the conversation around the series “You” started, but you recall seeing his Netflix profile on the tv screen.

“So, you live alone ?”, he asked after some seconds of silence, pillow lips wrapping around his metal straw.

“Yeah, I’ve been there for a year, I’d say.”, you start out, spoon digging into the chocolate mousse. “You’ll see, it’s lovely here.”, you tell Johnny with a smile he mirrors.

“I’m sure it is, everyone’s really nice. Especially Sangkyu.”, you laugh at that, the old men really has the power to give one memorable first impression.

“Ah, Sangkyun-.”, you laugh, “He’s something.”, you point out, yourself taking a sip of the iced tea. “Really good memory too, he made fun of me for buying two sets of guitar picks in a few months span.”

“Oh, right, the guitarist.”, Johnny smiles, placing his empty plate on his table. Pink tongue pokes out to wet his lips, your eyes shamefully follow the movement before forcing yourself to find his honey eyes again.   There it was, you didn’t know when nor how to bring the subject up, but you were thankful it happened naturally. For two people, two strangers, the conversation was going pretty well.

“Exactly ! By the way, sorry if the music’s too loud.”, you add quickly, yourself reaching towards the table to leave your empty glass. You’ll have to ask for the receipt. Johnny’s reaction is almost comical, his head shaking from left to right. “No, no ! It’s not too loud, not at all. T-That’s why I sent you a sheet, I liked it.”, he blurs he words out quickly, cute, you think.

Crossing one leg over the other, your eyes shift to the left for a quick second at the small compliment. “Thank you. You’re a good pianist.”, you return with a smile, spoon scraping the last bit of biscuit.

“Thank you very much, it means a lot. Have you been playing for long ?”, he asks, glass a quarter full left on the table. His right arm comes behind his sofa’s backrest, getting more comfortable.

“Since I was…eleven. Got an acoustic for my birthday and ended up selling it for an electric a year and a half later. What about you ?”, you explain, remembering the light brown instrument your parents got for you, you also remember it being way, way too big.

“Ah, yeah, I’ve always liked the sound of an electric guitar better. I was seven, or eight. My mother wanted me to learn and I ended up really liking it.”, he explains, fingers tapping on the sofa’s fabric.

Music brings people together, you tell yourself a second time when Johnny tells you about how her mother loves the sound of a piano, how she’d always stop next to her when he played. A kind of art that helps you learn more about a person, when he tells you his favorite songs to play and you tell him yours.

“But you do have a real pianist’s hands !”, you argue back when Johnny down plays one of your compliments, to which the brunette looks down. Crescent shaped eyes fall on his ring clapped fingers, a small smile on his lips he struggles to hide. “You noticed ?”, he asks, and you try to convince yourself his voice did not get lower.

“Well, yeah. A music student always looks at people’s hands.”, nice save, Y/N.

You learn the young men kept music as a hobby and currently studies international commerce et economics, Ten is a long, long time friend pursuing performing arts. You learn your neighbor’s not only a good looking men, brown locks falling in front of his, nose crunching up every time he finds something funny, rosy lips tugging up to reveal a row of white pearls. He’s also extremely well mannered. Soft spoken, polite, his chuckles put you in a comfort zone, the way he almost doesn’t let you help him clean the two plates a bit too cute. You find his presence entertaining.

Maybe it’s because you just met him, things to learn about him awaiting, but you don’t see the hours running by, nor does he.

It’s around ten post meridiem when Johnny insists to walk you to your door, handwritten receipt of his hibiscus iced tea in hand.

“Do you want me to st-”, Jaehyun asks over the phone for the third time in a week, or maybe for the fourth time, you lost count. Your devise rests right next to your laptop, which is propped on your desk.

“No, Jae'. I don't want you to stalk him.”, you breathe out into your microphone, fingertips tapping on your touchpad at a random rhythm. A paragraph, the conclusion, and you should be done on your essay.

“Too late. Got him !”, he almost chants out and, at that, there's a silence. Clear sign of your disappointment and your blonde friend's concentration. “Oh, wow. He's a photographer too ?”, he asks as if you can see his screen.

You hate it, you hate how your curiosity gets picked by the simple sentence. Needless to say, Jaehyun was filled in by every bit of information you got once Johnny walked you to your door, at least he waited two days before searching for your new neighbor's Instagram. Or at least you think.

“Oh wow. OH. Woah.”, your friend gasps into his microphone, your index taps aggressively on your keyboard, deleting the last sentence you wrote. He’s obviously doing it on purpose, pushing your bottoms. The blonde knows how curious you are, he’s just trying to see how long you can keep it together.

“Uh, Ja-. Show me, what did you find ?”, not very long, obviously.

“Ah, see ! Wait, I'll send you some screenshots. He's hot.”

He is, you want to answer, but would rather shut your mouth for now or you’ll never hear the end of it. Eyes finally leaving the screen of your laptop, they travel to another, finger unlocking your phone.

Your text messages with your friend enlighten your features, bubble appearing at the bottom.

“Finding him was extremely easy.”, Jaehyun points out, before a few screenshots are sent at the same time.

And indeed, you see how easy it must've been for your blonde boy. User johnnyjsuh.

He must've been pretty popular in his old schools, you think after looking at his followers.

Pictures of him in the same white shirt you saw him in days prior, pictures of him with an argentic camera, selfies, mirror selfies, outfit pictures. His feed is almost as good as Jaehyun's. And that says something.

Unlike Jaehyun, you don't have to be careful, worried you'll accidentally like one of his pictures. Shamelessly zooming on the screenshots your university friend sent you, you unconsciously pull your bottom him between your teeth.

He's cute. Too handsome it should be illegal.

“That's a lot but, yeah.”, Jaehyun giggles, you learn you don't have much of a filter between your mind and mouth. “Follow him !”

“Are you crazy ?”, you almost scream out, eyes wide at the suggestion. “He'll know we searched him up.”

Basic social media rules, you can't follow the guy when you don't even have his number, nor talked to him more than twice at this point, if him talking to you in the elevator counts.

“Alright, alright. Don't scream in my ears like that, I have earphones.”, he complains, not leaving you a second before continuing. “Y/N, don't be a coward, airdrop something.”

“I-.”, you start out, attention drown back to your computer. With one tap of your finger, you manage to hide your word document, piano sheet open behind it. You’ve searched a few sheets the day prior, downloading one before going to sleep that night, just in case.

After all, he sent you two tabs, why wouldn't you send him something ?

Tap, tap, you open the airdrop settings. You really should, hm ?

“Alright. I'm doing it.”, you finally say, more to yourself but your friend softly cheers on anyways.

“Ocean Eyes - Billie Eilish.”, from the songs he sent you, it's a fair guess your neighbor is familiar with this one too, you’d doubt he doesn’t know who Billie Eilish is.

“Johnny's IPhone”, it's a click away. One you reach, tapping on the touch pad again. Sent. There.

“Now we wait.”, you announce, leaning back .

“Tell me if anything happens, I have a call to take.”

On that, simple goodbyes are said, you promise Jaehyun you’d tell me if anything happens, he hangs up after saying good bye a second time.

Minutes go by, you don't really know how many, maybe five where you debate going back to your essay, finger frantically tapping on the Word Document icon. Before a few notes are heard.

Piano notes, fingers pressed down on white and black keys. It has the power to make you smile, lips tugging upwards, there’s obviously not a doubt who’s playing at this very moment. Even the way he plays feels confident, he's sure of himself, he knows what he's doing.

Attention for your school work long gone, your pupils naturally find your window again.

It's slightly open, the music would come in easier if it was fully pushed, you think to yourself.

Do you even have to hide anymore ? You guess not. He knows, you know, it's just music you want to enjoy, you convince yourself even though your palms are slightly warm, heart fluttering in your chest.

Leaving your phone on your desk, you quickly walk to your window, right hand in the handle pushes it towards yourself. Warm breeze enters your bedroom, in a soft gush that sends your baby hairs floating away from your face, framing your features.

The sun's just starting to set, purple hue tiger stripes on the blue sky but your eyes are on another shade of purple.

Johnny's wearing a light lilac hoodie, brown locks the only thing you can see, he hasn't moved his piano, his back facing you again.

Forearms against the window frame, you lean forward, humming at the summer sent floating in the air.

A bit too quickly, your neighbor ends the song, hands lingering on the keyboard. Finally, his right hand grabs the very phone he propped up on his piano to see the sheet you sent him, sliding it in his back pocket.

He stands up, fingers toying with a button on his instrument, probably turning some things off.

He turns around, you don't duck to the side.

The men's visibly taken back, his turn stopping mid-way, lips slightly parting for a second. Honey brown eyes find yours before his pupils travel down at your body behind your glass window. He genuinely smiles after a few seconds, eyes half crescents, full lips tugging upwards, you can almost hear his giggle.

“Hi.”, voice soft, Johnny says once he opened his own window a bit more, forearms on his frame, mirroring your own posture.

“Hey, that was very good.”, you tell him, head tilting to your left.

“Ah, thank you. I messed up somewhere in the beginning, though.”, one hand scratches the back of his neck like an embarrassed teenager, before his elbow rests on the frame, hand holding his jaw.

“Ah shoot, I'll send something easier next time.”, you tease, to which he laughs lightly, the sound airy.

“Would be easier to send it by text, wouldn't it ?”, Johnny asks, one eyebrow raised and you have to say, you took a second to understand. But when the brunette hands you his phone, pricy devise between two apartments on the ninth floor, your eyes grow wide.

Your number, he wants your number.

Probably just because you two are neighbors, you have a bunch of your neighbors’ phone number too...

And also probably because sending sheet via airdrop isn't the most convenient thing in the world. Don’t over think it, Y/N. Don’t overthink it.

Two hands grab his phone, just in case, and you struggle to remember your phone number all of a sudden.

You have to retract in your room, too scared you're going to drop the devise with your slightly trembling hands before eventually typing in your name and phone number. You don’t get why you’re so nervous, maybe it’s because Johnny didn’t stop looking at you, slightly giggling at your antics.

“Oh, by the way. I'm sorry if sending that tab sheet the first time was too much. I just couldn't resist.”, Johnny blurs out once he gets his phone back, sliding it back into his pocket. It’s his turn to look slightly nervous, hand rubbing at his shoulder.

“Ah, no, not at all ! It was fun, plus I think we might share the same music taste.”, you reassure him with a smile.

“Really ? You should send me your playlists.”, your neighbor says with an enthusiastic tone, eyes lightening up.

If Jaehyun was there, he'd tell you this was blatant flirting. Maybe you'd agree. At that very moment, you thank your past self for having a pretty organized Spotify accounts, you're one of these people with matching playlists accounts and vague names, a playlist for each feeling almost.

“Yeah, sure ! I'll send you my Spotify user !”, you immediately tell him, as keen as he is.

“Nice, and I c-.", his sentence is abruptly cut by a surprised noise falling from his lips, brown eyes looking up at the sky. He sticks out his right hand, palm up.

Rain starts pouring down.

Saturday, laundry day. It’s not a moment you particularly cherish but at least, you do not have to walk meters or kilometers to wash your clothes. Half thorn basket on your left hip, your right hand mindlessly scrolls through Johnny’s playlist, small smile on your features.

See, after the rain started pouring down, you two decided to return to your rooms in unanimity. Now that he had your number, communication was a lot, lot easier. As promised, you sent him your Spotify profile, where he followed you and you did the same.

User youngho’s listening to “The Weekend – SZA” from “late summer nights and city lights” playlist.

Your playlist.

User citylight’s listening to “Angelina – WIINSTON” from “yellow” playlist. His playlist.

Blatant flirting, Jaehyun would say.

Johnny has his playlist organized by colors, a simple theme you quite like. You have to say, you like all of them but, you had to follow his “purple”, “blue” and “yellow” playlist, where your neighbor managed to capture the color’s feeling. However, after a few days, the “red” playlist sat untouched. You didn’t dare. For having a similar playlist Johnny was actually shamelessly listening to, you knew exactly what the “red” playlist held.  

To : Johnny, 1:25 pm. : “how does angelina only has 40k view on youtube !!”

You quickly type on your keyboard, right after saving the said song to your likes. Finding new artist and finding new song’s always fun, especially when Johnny’s as invested as you are. He’d send you his thoughts on some songs, and you quickly learned the brunette was musically more intelligent than some people in your course.

From : Johnny, 1:27 pm. : “I honestly don’t know….” : “It’s such a catchy song too like”

Double text. Fuck, Jaehyun really got into your brain, didn’t he ? The notification bar slides down for a few seconds, enough for you to read his texts. At the same time, the metallic doors of your elevator open up to the lobby. Leaving your devise in your basket of dirty clothes, you figure you’d answer in a few minutes, once you’re done with your laundry.

“Good afternoon, Sangkyu !”, you call out the the older men before he manages to see you. It’s a fun thing you like to do, catching him off guard whenever you can. Turning his face towards you, the bold men vigorously waves.

“Y/N ! Hello !”

You don’t stop by his cubicle, rather turn to your left right before. There’s built the building’s laundry unit, you thank the architect every week for this. You do pay a little for it every month but again, it’s better than having to walk for minutes with a basket of heavy fabric. Four small machines and four bigger, it’s enough for everyone in the building. It’s also where some announcements are tapped, probably because people usually sit around the laundry room waiting for their clothes.

You’re probably going to watch an episode of Chambers while your clothes watch, you think to yourself as you open the door. It seems the universe has some other plans for you.

By now, it’s almost comical how easily you recognize Johnny’s back. Brown t-shirt on his broad shoulders, his head bob to a rhythm you can’t hear. He’s dropping his wet clothes in the machine to dry them, face turning towards the noise as you close the heavy door behind you.

“Oh, Y/N, hey !”, his smile is heard through his voice, right hand taking his earphones one. Johnny places his Airpods in their case, one you quickly notice is Marvel themed.

“Hey, Johnny.”, you wave with a hand, taking your earphones off as well.

“I was just listening to your playlist.”, the brunette says, shaking his earphones in his hand. You laugh at that, leaving your basket on the table. You assume the second basket there is Johnny’s. “Same !”

There’s a comfortable silence, the brunette pushes a few buttons on the machine and his clothes are sent for a cycle. You, yourself, drop your clothes in the washing machine after setting your phone on the brown table. You’re about to turn around and sit down, but you’re abruptly blocked by a tall figure, accidently bumping into Johnny’s chest.

“Oh, sorry.”, he breathes out, you hear him place another basket on his machine, right hand on your shoulder as if his chest did anything more than surprise you. “No worries…How many clothes do you have ?”, you ask with a laugh, not meaning to sound rude. But your neighbor’s dumping a second whole basket into the machine right next to you.

“Ah, Ten. He needs an entire outfit every day. Sometimes he even changes in the middle of the day.”, the machine quietly starts after the blue liquid is poured, Johnny leans against it. You’ve never seen your neighbor so up close, how is his face so symmetrical ? Slender eyes curling inwards, short little lashes batting a few times.

“Y/N ?”, fuck. His lips sure were moving and you didn’t register anything at all, you probably look dumb.

“I’m sorry, wh- what did you say ?”, clearing your throat, your eyes travel down to the machine, looking at the settings like you forgot to turn something on.

“I found your guitar picks. I mean, I assumed they’re yours.”, he says again, but he doesn’t hide the wide smile on his lips. You probably look dumb, really dumb. Right hand fishes into his back open, before he presents what indeed is one of your guitar picks, the light blue one. He holds it between his thumb and index, you notice he does so the right way, maybe he plays guitar.

“Oh, yeah. That’s definitely mine. Where did you find it…?”, you half ask, already knowing the possible answer. His palm opens to reveal not one, but two other picks of different colors.

“Washing machine.”, he says simply.

You learn Johnny uses a detergent that smells like vanilla and some flower blossom you can not distinguish, but the smell sure is comforting. It floats in the air as he folds his clothes next to you while doing a very detailed report on The Weeknd’s new album.

“But he’s right, though. “Repeat after me” is just a song where he brainwashes her but it’s so good.”, you tell Johnny while you take care of your wet clothes.

“His storytelling skills just keep getting better.”, he approves while popping a candy in his mouth. “Want some ?”

“Oh yeah, thanks !”, dropping the small chocolate in your hand, both your attentions are caught by the sound of the door opening. A lady in her mid-thirties enters the room, dyed red hair stopping at her shoulders.

“Miss Jeon, hi !”, you great the lady with a smile, one she easily returns. For the entire year you’ve been there, you don’t think you ever saw her without one tugging her lips.

“Hey, kids !”

Ah, yes. Miss Jeon also insists on calling everyone slightly younger than her “kid”. You don’t mind, though. You notice the rolled up paper in her right hand as she takes the hairband out.

“Doing laundry, eh ?”, she starts out, “Ah, it’s a great thing you two are here. Me and my husband are organizing a little gathering for the building’s anniversary.”

Right, Sangkyu told you about it, you remember. You hear Johnny hum behind you, to what Miss Jeon continues.

“It’ll be Saturday in two weeks ! Johnny, you and your roommate could come and get to know everyone a bit better, yeah ? Though I see you’ve already made friends with our Y/N.” Oh no, there she goes. You love the Jeons, but they’re so, so talkative, and they never know when to stop. They’re like parents taking your old embarrassing pictures out when your friends are over. Your eyes grow wide, a slightly embarrassed chuckle coming out of your lips.

The lady struggles to unwrap the paper, to which Johnny leaves the shirt he was folding to help her out.

“Ah, thank you. You know, Y/N isn’t really that talkative, but I think it’s because we didn’t share a lot in common, and we’re not as young and handsome as you.”

God. Stuck on your chair, wide eyes look at the scene as your neighbor chuckles. “Oh, really ?”, he urges her to continue to your misbelief,  but you quickly understands he’s doing it on purpose, crescent eyes sparkling with amusement as he looks over at you, the young and handsome bit wasn’t necessary but it sure did boost his ego.

Miss Jeon finally unfolds the paper, a big announcement on the anniversary gathering she’s holding. In the park, with the date and hour, you guess you should find an appropriate dress for the event and something to eat to bring.

“Anyways, it’s great having new faces ! You’ll come, right ?”, sticking he paper to the wall, the lady claps her hands, a little joyful jump when Johnny nods.

“Yeah. We’ll go together, yeah ?”

You learn Johnny isn’t only a good looking guy, he’s also a really good friend.

The friendship grows easily, after Miss Jeon left, he helps you out with your clothes while already planning what to bring for the gathering. The brunette tells you he’s better at cooking salty dishes than sugary cakes. You agree on that, it’s one of the many reasons why you buy anything sugary at the coffee shop down the street. Nonetheless, you and your new neighbor decide to challenge yourselves, you propose some French crepes and Johnny agrees on using his kitchen for it, with the help of Ten who’ll surely be here. Surely, the kids living in the buildings would love them and, they aren’t that hard to make.

You two walked to your apartment floor, basket in hand, though Johnny’s ability to carry two at the same time is rather impressive. One on top of the other, you try to be as discreet as possible when your eyes travel down to his arms, flexing, to his ring clapped fingers, gripping at the handles. He doesn’t walk you to your door but, is it really necessary ?

It’s funny how the universe seems so willing to put him on your path.

Every now and then, you catch a glimpse of the men through your window, walking in his room, mindlessly walking back and forth when he’s thinking about a composition, pen taking on his full bottom lip. He seems really concentrated whenever he tries to write something, eyebrows furrowed, whispering quietly to himself. He catches you carelessly dancing to songs late at night under your lights, moving like nobody’s watching, hands in the air as the singer’s angelic voice seems to control your body, silently giggling when you catch his eyes and abruptly stop.

He seems to vaguely have the same schedule as you do, you see him getting ready some days of the weeks, applying cream on his face like the first time you ever caught a glimpse at his sharp features at a distance. And you bump into him in the elevator every other day, both so exhausted with your classes, heavy backpack carelessly throws over your shoulders, so tired you two would rather smile and stay silent in the metal cubicle. You see him with his roommate a few times too, the first time happens to be right in front of their door, both of them carrying two bags of groceries.

Finally, you’re introduced to Ten, a much smaller and a bit thinner guy, though you quickly find out his personality might be as big as Johnny himself. His bright smile and laugh are both extremely contagious, and you also notice for yourself how much he cares about his appearance. Just like Johnny told you when you first saw him in the laundry unit, he wears different outfits like he’s going for a runway every day. Sharp eyes covered under his jet black hair, you can’t help but notice the multiple piercings on his ears.

Funny enough, you catch your new friend at the “Flâner” coffee shop, getting the exact same cake you brought him and some dark coffee, he tells you he got addicted to everything they do but regret not having enough time to sit down and study here.

On top of that, he never stops texting you, you never stop texting him. Conversation flows easily to the point where you sometimes have to pause to type out a response while you’re on the phone with Jaehyun.

Ah, your dear friend Jaehyun. Your blonde friend follows the events like a drama, though you tell him multiple times that “Nothing will happen, we’re just neighbors.”

Are you, though ? You don’t know if neighbors send each other sheet, you and Johnny never stopped, it became easier with his number. You don’t know if neighbors talk to each other by the windows, for so long it leaves marks on both your arms at the end of the night, red dent on your skin. You don’t know if normal neighbors talk to each other that much.

You and Johnny tip toe on the lines between neighbors and friends, the line between friends and…a little more ? The line snaps right before the building’s anniversary.

Thursday, one in the afternoon when the metal doors of your elevator open to your hallway. The sun’s shining, birds singing, your teacher’s car broke down, leaving you with a free day. Truly, the universe was on your side, you thought when you got the text from your classmate. After texting Jaehyun who told you he already went to the mall at your opposite, you decided to use that time to buy some curtains and take a day off your studies. A well deserved day off, you might add.

After searching again and again, you thought it’d be better to get new ones. You remember the old ones got dirty anyways. Plus, it’s not like you want to hide yourself from Johnny, he has some and you figure you should too for some privacy every now and then. A pack of clear curtains in your hands and some cushions in a bag for your living room, you step out of the metal cubicle, only to be greeted by a Johnny standing right in front of your door. Attention caught by the sound, your friend turns around, half expecting to see you and, he looks slightly flustered ? Short eyelashes bat a few times, rosy cheeks as he opens his month just to close it right after.

“Hey, Johnny ?”, you start, completely clueless at first, you don’t notice the white fabric he has in his hand. “Do you need something ?”, you ask, setting down all the new things you bought down, alongside your bag as you fish for your keys inside.

“I-uh…”, he starts. Why is his voice so shaky ? Eyebrows slightly raised, a knee down, you look up at your friend with a curious look. At that, the brunette looks away. Honey eyes diverge to his right as he shifts his body from left to right.

“Johnny ?”, keys in hand, you rise to your feet, slightly turning away to open your door, struggling a little at the last lock.

“We uh, got some clothes mixed up.”, he tells you, pink hue on his cheeks. You take a few seconds to understand, before recalling the meeting in the laundry unit.

“Oh ! I didn’t even notice anything missing.”, you tell him with a laugh, before your smile wavers to a more…stunned expression. The white fabric he’s holding in a hand, you only need a second look to distinguish the lace waistline you know too well. Your panties. He’s holding your panties. God, you didn’t even notice ? You wear these often, you don’t have that much panties. “Oh.”, you say again, with a much different tone. Heat washes over your body, a much deeper shade of pink coloring your cheeks.

Lips dry, you extend your hand down, almost timid to hold your own piece of clothing.

Johnny stays quiet, handing you the white underwear, hand hiding in his pocket right after.

“Erhm, thank you.”, you mumble out, hiding the fabric behind the pack of clear curtains, like he did not have the time to look at it before.

“I’m sorry, I found them in my shirts this morning and I first thought about just leaving them at your door but it would’ve been even more awkward.”, he laughs slightly, hand rubbing at the back of his nape again. You laugh lightly at that, it sure would’ve been even weirder to find your panties in a box in front of your door. Creepier too.

“Would’ve been very Joe-like.”, you tell him with a smile, the atmosphere immediately a lot less tense. You’re thankful for it, it’s clear Johnny didn’t want things to be…weird either. He laughs a little, cheeks high, before noticing your new purchase, especially your curtains.

“Oh, redecorating a bit ?”, his arms cross in front of him, biceps building up, stretching the sleeves of his shirt. “Ah, a little. I just needed new curtains, I forgot where I stored the old ones.”, you tell him, shoulder leaning again your door. “Putting them on was a nightmare.”, you sigh a little, head resting on your door as well. When you first moved in, you had to put the curtains all alone and only remember the ache in your neck and arms.

“…Was it ?”, he asks with a sly smile, eyebrows lightly furrowed like he’s questioning your experience.

“Some of us aren’t blessing with your height, Johnny.”, you tell him with a fakely annoyed glare, “I almost fell down and broke my back.”. You dramatize with a pout on your lip, to which Johnny only smirks lightly.

“Need some help ?”, Johnny finally, head tilting to the side. “I don’t want you breaking your back.” Yet, Johnny thinks.

“Ah, please !”, no need for him to propose a second time, you’d take anyone to help you with these demons any day, let alone someone like Johnny. One hand turns your door handle, proceeding to push it with your body. “Welcome to my humble home.”

Johnny lightly chuckles at your antics, curious eyes scanning over your apartment. It’s always weird to see an apartment so similar to yours yet so different, he hums at the sent of the light incense you blow out right before leaving. Sliding your shoes off, your friend follows quickly after, though he takes them with one hand to neatly store them right next to your door.

“It’s really pretty.”, he hums behind you as you walk towards your living room, letting the back full of cushions on your table. Smiling brightly as his compliment, you have to say you were pretty proud of your decorating skills. You took multiple months to pile everything you wanted up and, after a year, all your plants grew green and luscious.

“Thank you very much !”, hands gathering your hair, you quickly attach them with a hairband you always have on your wrist. “Do you want something to drink ?”

“Hm, maybe later ! Let’s start with these nightmare curtains first.”

“Alright, let me just get the stool.”, and on that, you take a second to remember exactly where you stored it before quickly jogging to the small closet near your entrance door. You don’t remember the last time you used it, you take a few seconds to take the cold iron object out of its hiding place, one foot stuck in a random box you still have there. You finally pull the object with a sharp tug and not without a small sound of struggle. Johnny is quick to grab into the heavy object and lets you take care of the pack you just bought. For the few seconds you take to move from your living room to your bedroom, you pray you didn’t leave anything too embarrassing there, you really didn’t think you’d have Johnny over today. But thankfully, when you open your bedroom door, the only think you left on your bed’s your pyjamas or rather, shirt you sleep in you didn’t fold the morning.

“So that’s the room.”, Johnny notices softly, the very room he seems fragments of from his own. Curious eyes look over your desk and the multiple things you sticked right above it, before they travel to the side he definitely never saw from his window. Denty fingers gaze at your guitar’s neck like he’s afraid of touching it without your permission, though it’s definitely clear you don not mind.

“It is ! Is it weird seeing it entirely ?”,  you joke a bit around as you sit the pack down on your desk. Scissors you leave on your desk are used to cleanly open the transparent protection as Johnny opens the stool and places it where he desires. “Really weird, I’m used to…this.”, he jokes too, thumbs and pointers digits forming a frame in front of his eyes. “And that’s what you see. My room looks so empty from here.”, Johnny notes, leaning a little in front of your window.

“It looks like you only have a bed and a piano in there.”, you tease him.

“I don’t ! I spent two entire days decorating it ! I’ll show you next time.”, he promises and somehow, it has the power to make your lips part a little, heat slightly burning your cheeks. The brunette doesn’t notice though, and immediately starts helping you out with your curtains.

Or rather, you help him. Johnny does most of the work on your curtains and you won’t complain. The men takes things into his hands, stepping onto the stool. Where you needed to climb the four steps, Johnny barely needs to climb two, body barely needing the extra height. His hands work quickly to detach the metal bar on each side, fingers twisting at the sides. When the black bar is finally off, he hands it to you so you can work on the hoops and slide the curtains in, which you do quickly.

As easily as he took it out, Johnny slides the metal bar back in before screwing each side in. From this angle, his jaw looks even more sharp, eyes focused never leave his work. He looks even more intimidating, especially when his eyes look down at you and you have to dodge eye contact. “Much easier like that.”, you say, almost dumbfounded at how easily he just did…that. Johnny laughs with the breathy giggle you’re starting to get used to. “See, only took a few minutes at best.”, Johnny says while stepping off the stool, hand lightly touching the curtains.

“Wait, let me throw this away.”, you mumble out, picking the packaging in your hands. Again, Johnny isn’t slow to follow, telling you he’ll help you with your stool. The young men follows you quickly, easily finding the small closet you store anything and everything in once you point it with your index. From your small kitchen, the sound of the stool being pushed inside and the door closing is followed by Johnny’s joyful “Done !”.

“What do you want to drink ?”, you finally ask when the brunette sits down right in front of your kitchen counter. Elbows on the cold grey material, he stares for way too long at the two choices you offer him. Tropical juice in your right hand, still unopened bottle of some bubbly beverage in the other, your friend acts like it’s a life or death decision. “C’mon ooon.”, you laugh out, arms getting tired at the way you’re holding the heavy bottles.

Finally, the brunette points your right hand with an index.

“Oh, you’re a slytherin ?”, he asks when you open your cupboard. Glasses on the bottom and mugs at the top, you look up at the same exact mug he noticed. Right in the middle, the grey and green logo is a clear statement on your Hogwarts house.

“Yes, a very proud slytherin.”, you tell him while setting the two tall glasses on the counter, pouring equal amounts of juice into them. “Let me guess, Gryffindor ?”, you ask, arching an eyebrow.

“I actually never took the test.”, Johnny says, to which you dramatically gasp. “And I never watched the movies. One of my friend’s just a really proud slytherin as well, I bought so many slytherin themed gifts that I just can recognize the logo right away.”

Double gasp, you set your glass down, eyes growing wide as you’re trying to judge if he’s actually joking or not. You found he definitely isn’t, but he does find your reaction quite funny. His laughs resonates into his glass, liquid half drowned.

“Are you for real ?”, you ask him just to make sure, and your neighbor just nods.

“A hundred percent, I just never really had the chance to watch it.”, poking his tongue out, pink muscle collects the drop of juice threatening to fall down.

“In 2020 ?”, you’re dumbfounded, you never thought someone could actually go so long without watching it. “You have to watch it.”

“I will. One day. Maybe.”, Johnny teases, eyes falsely rolling back.

“Now.”, you tell him, a certain sense of urgency in your voice. “I won’t let you get out of my house uneducated, young sir.”, you tell him before looking through another cupboard, hand pushing some unopened chips bag and opened for too long biscuits. Finally, your hand find the flat package you were looking for, proudly taking out for Johnny to say right after checking for the expiration date. “I have popcorn.”

How can Johnny refuse ? How can he, who he has to say, already has a soft spot for you, say no to such a proposition ? Not when your clutching the said uncooked popcorn bag against your chest, slight pout he’d probably kiss away on your lips. Wait, what. Johnny understands he’s utterly fucked once he agrees after a very short time thinking, he’s fucked because he knows the more time he spends with you, the more he’s probably going to fall. You, on the other hand, only understand what you did once Johnny comfortably takes place on your coach. You’re unaware of it, but you have the same exact soft spot, the same small butterflies whenever music is heard from the other’s bedroom, the same tiny smile creeping up whenever one sends a song recommendation, the same tingly feeling in the middle of your chest whenever one catches a glimpse of the other.

Another thing the two of you have in common, you two have some impressive actor abilities, if Johnny acts cool and unbothered, totally not lowkey stressed and watched over by adrenaline at this very moment, you can do the exact same.

Has his thighs always been so…Muscular ? Firm ? Your eyes quickly move away when you catch the train of your thoughts, looking into your bowl like it’s most interesting thing ever as you pour down the hot popcorn. Picking one up, you pop in into your mouth, unconsciously trying to distract your thoughts. This brand’s popcorn really good, right amount of caramel on each piece, you wonder what hickeys look like on Johnny’s caramel skin.

Fuck, bravo. Way to go. It’s his jeans, you blame it on his jeans and how they seem to perfectly hug his legs as he spreads them on your coach, one arm right behind it as he scrolls on his phone with the other.

If the brunette’s thumb is scrolling ever so slowly on his twitter timeline, his mind isn’t really able to read the small tweets at this very moment, not when you set the bowl full of popcorn down on the table before dropping on your knees in front of your tv. Why does he have to see everything in such a way, Johnny quickly blinks and tries to get his attention back on his phone but what can he do when you’re right in the background, in the peripherical vision.

He sees you looking for the movie in the pile of CDs and games you have, before finally finding the very first Harry Potter, a triumphant “Ah-ha !”, coming out of your lips.

“You’ll love it.”, you tell Johnny once you place the CD in the CD player, something you haven’t done in actual months, seating down right next to him. You’re some what grateful you only own one single sofa that’s enough for two people and a bowl full of popcorn right in between.

“Wait, is that how Cedric dies ?”, Johnny’s mouth hangs open at the young actor laying seemingly lifeless on the grass after a fatal spell, a gag sound coming out of your friend’s lips when Voldemort’s bare feet comes in contact with the Hufflepuf’s face. “I hate this shot.”, you tell him, slightly disgusted at the scene, before you yawn loudly against your hand. The glass you refilled many time is now empty, you leave it right next to the empty pizza box Johnny insisted on buying.

It’s midnight, you can barely process the hour it is, not how long you stayed by Johnny’s side to the point where you’re curled up next to him under the blanket you two are sharing. At the end of the first movie, you were happy to see a pretty speechless and invested Johnny, it was still pretty early, around four and a half in the afternoon and you both agreed to watch the second. At the end of the second, he offered to buy pizza and something to drink while you popped the third movie. Let’s just say Johnny got a bit excited when you said the four movie was your favorite and midnight being still a bit early for two students, you agreed on watching a last one.

“So, what do you think ?”, you ask once the credits starts rolling, lazy smile stretching your features. Your tall friend flops off the coach, letting his body slowly fall on the ground to grab his phone charging. “This one’s definitely the best, I mean, the whole Marauders thing ? Love it.”, he tells you, head resting on the sofa you’re still on. “I wanna know what my house is now.”, he mumbles while unlocking his phone, searching the right quizz.

“Wait, wait. Let me read the questions !”, you tell him, hand stretching to get his phone, and the brunette gives it to you without hesitation. You, who took the exact same official test four times, are familiar with questions and ask them one by one. Day or night, forest or beach side, Johnny thinks about his answers before. Familiar animation before the sorting hat reveals his pick, you hide the phone with a hand. “Guess.”, you tell him after looking at the result, results you would’ve easily guessed.

“Gryffindor ?”, he asks with a slight bit of doubt in his voice.

“Gryffindor !”, you tell him with a dramatic shout, mimic the sorting hat’s. His head rolls back with a grown, eyes screwed shut even though he has a smile stretching his full lips.

“Ah-! I lowkey wanted to be a Slytherin.”, he tells you, big puppy like eyes looking at you from below.

“Oh, really ?”, you ask, slightly surprised. You had to say Johnny was more of a Gryffindor than a Slytherin.

“Yeah, I wanted us to match.”

Full lips out in a pout, it’s your turn to think about kissing it away.

You understand you’re fucked when Johnny helps you out in cleaning your living room, washing your glasses while you dry your plates and bowl. He understands he’s fucked again when you hum a song he’s familiar with but can’t put his finger on the name. You both are fucked when he slides right behind you to set your glasses in your cupboard, chest brushing against your back. It feels strangely domestic, comfortable and…Normal ? A soft “Be careful”, comes out of his mouth and his breath moves a few pieces of your hair, arms stretching up to carefully place the glasses he just washed. It’s your turn to walk him to his door, where you two understand Ten’s already fast asleep, loud snores coming out of one of the rooms.

How strange it is, people say time alters in airports, empty trains stations and others. Time alters in front of Johnny’s door. He leans against his door frame like the first time you two met, lazy eyes looking down at you as you stretch a bit more.

“It was fun.”, he tells you quietly, tired smile stretching your lips. You return it, sighing as your muscle wake up.

“Yeah, glad I got you into Harry Potter.”, you tease him a bit, “Might have to buy you some Gryffindor themed things.”

“Ten’s gonna lose it when he learns he wasn’t the one to get me to watch it.”, you frown at that, head tilting to the side.

“Wait, he tried ?”

“Yeah, but he never sold it like you did.”, he hums and for a moment, it seems his mind isn’t really where his words are. Honey eyes drop for a quick second to your lips, but he regains his thoughts as quickly.

“Oh, he’s gonna kill me, isn’t he ?”, you joke a bit, though you’re surprised you managed to get Johnny into the saga quickly when he told you before that him and Ten knew each other for years. The brunette’s laugh is breathy, controlled so he doesn’t wake up his roommate who’ll probably kill him right before killing you. “If he finds out, totally. We don’t have to tell him, though.”, and, did his voice just drop even lower ? You didn’t think it was possible, the man’s voice is already deep but right now, in the dead of the night, it almost seems sultry.

“Oh wow, having our secrets already ?”, you breath out, biting a laugh down on your bottom lip. It does it for Johnny, his attention was already on them right before but, his slightly clouded mind could not really help himself. He doesn’t take his eyes away, not even when your mouth slightly parts at the realization. Only then do you wonder if it is mutual, your breath alters for a second, just when the taller let’s a simple “Yeah” tumble from his lips.

He leans down, or at least, you think he does. A millimeter, maybe you dreamt it, maybe he was going to hug you, a millisecond, a third voice gets heard from the deeps of the apartment.

“Johnny ? Turn the fucking light off.”

“Y/N-ah, Y/N !”, Sangkyu sings the moment you step foot in your building with your grocery bag. You guess quickly it’s because of tomorrow’s gathering, the old men always loved a reason to party, with moderation obviously.

“Hi ! You seem particularly happy today.”, you tell him, stopping in front of his cubicle, you notice he added another drawing to his wall, probably the kids on the first floor.

“I am ! We finished making the cakes a few hours ago and they are de-li-cious.”, his eyes disappear as he smiles brightly, you decided you love this man with all your being.

“Ah, I can’t wait to taste them !”, you hum, switch your bag from your left hand to your right. Even without knowing what him and his wife did, you can at least guess without a doubt that it is going to be as delicious as he says it is.

“Just a day ! What are you making ?”

“French crêpes !”, you tell him while lifting your bag, proud smile at your pronunciation, you just went and bought some milk and flour for it right after leaving your university, Johnny told you he had everything else.

“Ah, yes, with our new neighbors, hm ?”, he starts, smile turning vicious and oh, you know where he’s going. You wonder if Jaehyun and him are working hand in hand. Let’s just say Jaehyun did not drop the subject, not when he learned you accidently ignored his texts the other night because of a movie night with the brunette. Not when you told him you think Johnny almost kissed you. Or hugged you.

“Yes.”, you tell him simply, not going any further. You hope he will drop the subject, but you know he probably won’t.

“We hear you two playing, but you should both play something together.”, Sangkyu tells you, not taking the hint or maybe, he decided to ignore it. But he is not wrong, you two should play something together. You have to say, you didn’t know your playing was so loud but if no one ever complained, it was a good thing, right ?

“We should.”, you tell him with a smile, ready to go towards the elevator, his voice stops you a second time.

“Do you like him ?”, he suddenly asks. God, he really is acting like a father who also wants to be a friend. You suddenly stop right in your track, hand turning towards the oldest.

“Who ?”, you ask dumbly, but Sangkyu isn’t one to take your fake attitude.

“Johnny.”, he tells you straight forward and a bit too loudly, arms leaning against his counter with a too happy smile.

“Sangkyun…”, you whine, quiet in case anyone walks in.

“Y/N-ah…!”, he mocks the tone of your voice and you whine even more.

“Come on, you can tell me.”, you says, you know he won’t ever let you go and even if he does, he’ll draw his own flowed conclusions, better tell him already.

“Maybe, yes.”, you tell the oldest before walking a bit too quickly towards your elevator, index jamming into the up button.

“I knew it !” and, when you hide yourself in the metal cubicle, you see your old friend making a few happy dance moves with his arms, you wonder if you’re seeing Jaehyun in the future.

“Alright, how’s this ?”, you ask Jaehyun after stepping right in front of your phone. You’re actually video chatting with your blonde friend, but you can barely see half of his face, he decided to hold his phone so close you could only see from his hairline to the bridge of his nose.

“Turn around.”, he says, breath overloading his device’s microphone. You do so anyways, showing him the outfit you decided to wear for tonight. Obviously, it was just a small gathering between neighbors, you didn’t have to go all in with a cocktail dress but, a nice and pretty one was expected. Following your friend’s order, you turn to show off a black, thin strapped, body hugging dress you got a year ago and yet, never wore.

“Is that your mom’s jacket ?”, Jaehyun asks, chewing on what you think is a handful of chips. You hum at the question, you’re indeed wearing the oversized jean jacket you mother used to wear when she was in college. “The dress looks hot, when did you buy it ?”

“Eh, last year ? Around the middle of the summer.”, you tell your friend, stepping out of your phone’s camera to search for your earrings. “Wait, you never wore it, right ?” “Nope.”, from a distance, you can hear Jaehyun mumbling something about you having too many clothes. Maybe he’s right, but you brush the remark anyways, taking your rings.

“How’s my makeup ?”, you ask, kneeling in front of your phone, you step closer to let the blonde have a closer look at your eyes makeup. “You know I don’t know shit about makeup !”, he complains, finally letting you see his face as he moves his phone. “Jaehyun, does it look good ?”, you ask him, acting annoyed at his antics.

“Yes, you look good.”, he says, voice somewhat a high pitched tone as he snaps a picture once you stand up again. “If lover boy doesn’t kiss you tonight.” Small smile stretches your lips at the compliment, you decide to brush the second sentence off, applying some lipstick before checking your watch.

“And you’re telling me he acted like nothing happened ?”, Jaehyun asks, sound of the chips bag covering his voice. You sigh at that, eyes rolling a little, you think no matter how many times you’ll tell him, he’ll keep asking. “He did. I mean, his roommate was there so, he couldn’t really…Y’know ?”

A quick glance at the bag you’re supposed to bring down to the gathering starting in fifteen minutes, it holds the dozens of crêpes you, Johnny and Ten made a bit earlier. Just like it was planned before hand, you showed up after class to their apartment, Ten was the one who opened the door. Apparently, Johnny was a bit late, his teacher’s lecture went on for a bit longer than anticipated and when he showed up, he immediately helped with the batter. The brunette greeted you like he usually would and acted like nothing happened the night before, though you don’t blame him, not when his roommate was between the two of you half of the time. You had to bring your own pan after realizing how many crêpes you’d actually make and, after about two hours, you left to get ready. Let’s just say Jaehyun was not happy with the lack of exciting events. You weren’t either, but you still somehow hoped something would happen tonight, somewhere deep in your thoughts. However, you didn’t want to think too much about it, tonight was a gathering to celebrate and have fun, you didn’t want to overthink what happened the night prior.

“Anyways, I have to go.”, you finally tell you friend, who simply tells you to enjoy yourself and text him after before hanging up.

Heavy bag of crêpes in your hand, you slide out of your apartment after spraying some perfume on your neck. Locking your door, your neighbors are quick to follow as you agreed to go together and, fuck.

He looks hot, Johnny looks hot. There’s a slight second where you stay silent and take in his figure, legs hugged by a tight pair of black jeans, cotton white blouse slightly open on his caramel chest, the golden hour isn’t even here and yet, the slight bit of sun hitting his skin makes him glow. You know, you know he caught you staring and yet he stays silent, slight smirk tugging a side of his full lips.

“Y/N, Ma’am !”, Ten’s voice drags you out of you reverie. The men takes a step closer, you notice the very pricy Yves Saint Laurent grey and white top he’s wearing. “You look fucking good ! Right ?”, it seemed the men only needed a few hours to get familiar with you, but you don’t complain and smile at the compliment.

“You do, you look amazing.”, if Ten managed to make you smile brightly at his antics, Johnny’s low voice only makes you blush and your eyes waver a bit, not knowing where to look, almost unable to keep eye contact with the tallest. “Thank you. I-, hm, you too.”

Great.

“Thank you. Let’s get going, I don’t want to be late.”, thankfully, he doesn’t say more, hand grabbing onto his own bag where you assume he has the chocolate and strawberry spread.

“Wait, what about me ?”, his roommate asks, acting so offended you wonder if he isn’t actually hurt by the lack of compliment you and his roommate showed. The smallest frowns, angry glare at Johnny who doesn’t even notice him as he went towards the elevator to call for the metal box.

“This shirt looks amazing on you, very pricy too.”, you tell your neighbor with a laugh, stepping right behind the tallest, waiting.

“And I already told you it looked good.”, he says, right before stepping in the elevator.

“Thank you, Y/N.”, the black haired says your name a bit louder, but you don’t pay too much attention either.

Poor thing, if you and Johnny aren’t aware yet of the tension, Ten sure is, and he hates every bit of it when he understands, stuck in an elevator where he’s the third wheel. By the way, has your elevator always been so small ? Your back leans against one wall as Johnny does the same right in front of you, honey eyes traveling from your eyes to your uncovered collarbones. The brunettes tries, he really tries to stop his eyes from traveling down but they do eventually, swallowing built up saliva when his pupils travel down your hips, to your naked legs.

Ten’s almost about to say something, just to break the thick silence before the doors opening saves the young men, he decides he definitely is not going to stay with the two of you tonight.

You, on the other side, seem to finally be able to breathe once you step out the elevator, Johnny’s attention did not go unnoticed. Try and act normal, probably the only thing going on your mind and Johnny’s.

“Hey, look who it is !”, Miss Jeon’s voice is heard before you can even see her. You’re familiar with the park the gathering is taking place in, but it sure looks amazing in the late afternoon. At this time of the year, the grass’ green, flowers bloomed, small fruits are starting to turn red under the summer sunlight. Even better, the water fountains are on, the one right in the middle is large, tall, multicolor lights when the moon shines. Finally, when you and your two friends turn the corner to enter the park, you’re physically greeted by Miss Jeon who’s wearing a really pretty pen skirt, hair flowing in the soft summer wind. “Miss Jeon !”, you greet her with a smile which isn’t enough for the lady who pulls you into a hug. One hand grabs yours and the tallest makes you swirl around, a high pitched “Wow ! Look at you !”, coming out of her lips.

“You look amazing, darling. You two, too.”, as always, the lady is extremely cheerful. You notice hers and other neighbors’ kids already playing around in the park, loud screams every now and then. A bit closer to the fountain, multicolor light are hanging from the threes, you can faintly distinguish a song playing. Large tables are set there, alongside chairs were parents and others are all talking together, setting whatever they bought.

“Go set everything there, we’ll start eating soon.”, Miss Jeon instructs, and you follow her orders as she stays in front of the park to greet anyone coming.

Everything is quickly set up where all the deserts are, neighbors come until you they flood the park, you almost think everyone’s here. “I did not expect so many people.”, Johnny tells you, taking a plastic cup to get himself some juice right before giving you a cup.

“Me neither.”, you tell him, eyes glazing over the last people walking in. Almost everyone responded to the call, a pretty heart warming sigh. Some of your neighbors you never actually talked to are here, mostly because they’re from other buildings from the same project.

“I see Ten is already making friends.”, you continue, eyes catching your friend talking to another neighbor, one you think is in his early thirties, you’ve talked to him once, maybe.

“Ten is a social butterfly.”, Johnny laughs into his cup, before eventually taking a step forward toward the black haired. If his roommate was going to socialize, he might as well too.

“I think it is overrated.”, ah yes, now you remember why you did not much to this guy. James is a foreign, blonde, man bun type of guy who finds everything overrated, it’s almost impossible to talk about your hobbies and interests with him without being ripped apart. He probably isn’t that mean just, not that good at social interaction. You see Ten’s expression turning from excited to somewhat confused, to what you intervene.

“What is ?”, you ask, and you don’t really like when the blonde acts like he did not notice you and Johnny walking.

“Oh, Y/N, hi. Long time no see.”, he says, not paying any attention to Johnny. You greet him anyways, slightly taken back by his attitude. “And you are ?”

“Johnny.”, the men behind you says, stretching a hand out to shake his.

“Oh, strong grip.”, slight contortion of the blond’s face, he quickly retracts his hand when Johnny lets go.

“Anyways, when are you letting me see you play ?”, James ask and oh, how you have to search in your memory to understand what the fuck he’s talking about. The blonde wants to learn how to play the guitar, that was, maybe eight months ago.

“Oh eh. One day, maybe.”, you awkwardly laugh.

“We hear you play every night, don’t say you don’t have time for me !”, he tries and laugh off the sentence. Ten shifts, poor thing seems taken back but thankfully, Johnny’s quick to react. As you’re about to respond, his hand slides on your waist, “I’m pretty busy with uni’, but I can send you some great guitarists’ videos.”, you choke out, mind slightly bugging at the brunette’s touch.

“She’ll let you know when she has time for you.”, the tallest does not hesitate and, it visibly annoys the blonde. A sharp “Okay .”, tumbles from his lips before he leaves towards the salty foods.

“He’s weird.”, Ten finally says, Johnny doesn’t take his hand away.

It takes hours for Johnny to address it again.

The midnight breeze always feels special, soft, fresh, it licks the thin layer of sweat the bolt sun created on your skin. Your jacket’s off your shoulders, loosely hanging on the crook of your elbows, seating on the cold marble of the fountain.

Soft sound of the water running behind you, all the kids have been sent to sleep, alongside their parents and other hard working adults needing of sleep, just the low sound of some jazz music you’re unfamiliar with and some chatter as the background noise.

You shoes kick off some small rocks and sand, eyes looking up at the multicolor lights still hanging on the trees. You laugh off one of Johnny’s joke, before he gets serious again, his left hand lightly touching the fountain’s water.

“By the way, sorry about earlier. I didn’t ask if I could touch you like that.”

You have to think for a slight second to understand what he’s talking about, hand grabbing onto the bowl of ice cream you set aside for yourself. Your spoon digs into the chocolate cream, taking a fair amount of whipped cream.

“Oh ! Oh, no. Don’t worry about it, I don’t mind.”, I liked it, you would’ve said if you were a little bit more brave. Spoon in your mouth, you eagerly gulp down the frozen desert, Johnny only softly smiles.

“Is he always like that ?”, he asks, body turning a bit more to face you. He’s close, really close, but it became normal. It became normal for him to have your naked thigh against his, you shamelessly look down at it for god knows how many times tonight. It became normal for you to almost be able to feel his breath die on your skin.

“I don’t know, tonight was the second time I ever talked to him.”, you tell him, tongue quickly cleaning the tiny drop of ice cream forming at the corner of your lips. Johnny stays silent for a second, eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips, before its feels like he shakes his thoughts away. His gaze stays fixated on your eyes so confidently it’s even worst than him looking at your lips, you shift under his pupils, crossing a leg over the other.

“He seems really pushy.”, Johnny breathes out, and he finds the exact same octave he was speaking to you in just last night, right in front of his apartment. It’s clear he only is replying for politeness.

“You have hm, some ice cream, here.”, the brunette hums, again ripping you out of your reverie. Left hand covers your mouth, index and middle finger brushing at the corner but it seems you are not picking the right side.

“Wait, no-.”, he laughs for a quick second, crescent eyes before they shift to something else. His thumb quickly wipes the other side of your lips, and you freeze. You lock dead in your position, eyes slightly larger as he helps you clean up with a soft yet deep “There you go.”

For hours now, Johnny had been the only thing on your mind. From the moment he stepped out of his apartment, the moment his eyes seemed to devour every bit of your body, the moment he left is hand lingering on the small of your waist. To the moment he sat down to eat, legs, strong thighs spread, the moment he talked to the smallest kids from the second building, the moment he lead you behind the fountain with a hand in the small of your back.

But, when Johnny lets his lips capture the tip of his thumb, cleaning the bit of ice cream, you think you might never be able to think about anything else but him, but Johnny.

You have to look away, desperately trying to gather your thoughts, something you can’t do when the brunette’s looking at you with such innocent eyes.

“You okay ?”, he asks like he didn’t do anything, like he did not just do that.

“Yeah, I-.”, you have to leave you plastic bowl somewhere behind you, brain fuming to find something else to say.

“You’re blushing. You had the same look yesterday.”, he notes, and…He knows ? He knew before you did, that’s what his slight smirk tells you. “It’s a shame Ten had to ruin it, but I like this setting better.”, Johnny hums, but he never takes his eyes away.

“Could’ve kissed me anyways.”, you dare to say. Your mouth goes dry, for some reason, biting down on your bottom lip. The brunette comes a little closer, and just like last time, you can't help but get lost in his irises, notice the way his eyes curl at their inner corner, now how his pupils slowly eclipses the soft brown of his eyes.

Tongue poking at the inside of his cheek, his lines a bit closer again, hand sliding under your chin. You stop breathing for a second, eyelids involuntarily growing heavy.

“Did I miss my shot ?”, you can almost feel him mouth the words.

“Maybe, but I can give you another one.”, you manage to tease, face tilting to the side before he even does anything. If he doesn't do it himself, you'll break the distance, but he holds you in the palm of his hand, so hypnotise under his spell you can only anticipate his next move.

“Good, would've hated myself for missing it.”, he says and, as you hoped, the brunette finally lets his lips crash against yours. It's soft, a kiss to taste the water, though he himself taste the chocolate you just ate.

Pillows lips slowly starts moving against yours, you easily follow his rhythm, sighing when his hand moves from your chin to your neck, deepening the exchange.

Your hand easily finds his hair, finally letter your fingers grasp onto the soft locks. It's a soft grip, yet Johnny sighs softly against your lips, sound turning into a slight groan once you bite down on his bottom lip.

That does it for him, the kiss quickly turns needy, desperate, he touches where he can, second hand lightly running up your thigh.

Arms wrap behind his neck to keep him close, body leaning backwards, Johnny has to plant a hand on the marble behind you, second hand wrapping behind your waist.

The brunette doesn't hesitate a second more, like he's afraid of letting go of the moment, afraid you're gonna slip away between his fingers like the clear water of the fountain. Pick tongue laps at your bottom lip, you part them without a moment of hesitation. It's eager, rushed, the taste of the desert you just ate still lingers on your tongue while you get the fruity drink he was sipping on moments before.

Finally, when you have to let go for some air, breathing altered by the exchange, Johnny doesn't let go. Long kisses are planted at the corner of your lips, he takes his time until he travels down to your jaw where you stop him.

And, before he can ask you anything, you quickly grab his hand in yours, “Let's go inside.”

He follows quickly behind, leaving everything behind, you take the second gate of the park. Shorter, you also don't have to walk in front of all your remaining neighbors like this, lips swollen, eyes blown.

You don't think you've ever walked so fast to your apartment, you don't think you've ever been so happy to see Sangkyu's spot vacant.

The silence is heavy, breath still uneven when you push the button of the elevator and the doors open immediately.

If you didn't know the men behind you was as desperate as you were, you definitely understand once he pushed you inside the small cubicle.

He blindly pushes the button to your shared floor, right hand wrapping around your throat to swiftly push you against the cold wall. If he doesn't tighten his grip, you sure wish he did, but you have other things to care about at the moment. The hand previously around your neck plants itself right next to your hand and this time, he has to lean down to capture your lips another time.

Completely pinning your body to the cold metal, he uses his hips against yours, a gasp escaping your lips he uses to slip his tongue between your lips again. And, you let a breathy moan come out of your lips when he pushes his hips flush against your, hard on pressing against your body. Even with the two layers, you can feel him.

You never felt so hot inside this elevator, it moves without stopping at any floor, no music as the silence is filled by your soft breaths and the sound of his mouth against yours.

Beat washes over you, if your panties weren't ruined already, they sure are now. Now that the brunette rolls his hips, slowly, tentatively slow, just to make you feel every inch. Your mind's clouded, body reacting by itself when it archs away from the wall.

He lets his forearm rest against the metal wall, about to travel down to your neck, hips grinding against yours.

When he's about to bite down on the skin of yours neck, teeth grazing over the flesh, the doors open to your floor.

It's Johnny's turn to grab onto your hand, pulling you out of the elevator but he never stays too long away from your body.

Full lips pepper kisses on your face, before he breathes out against your skin.

“Your apartment, yeah ?”

Obviously, you want to tell him, naturally walking towards your door.

“Unless you want your roommate to walk in on us.”, you let a breathy giggle out, facing your door.

Fuck, now out of all times, you can not find your keys. Maybe it's because your shaky hands can barely search your pockets. Hard to blame yourself when the brunette stands behind you, hard cock pressed against you, arms tightly wrapped around your stomach, face buried in your neck.

“Baby, they're here.”, the tallest hums, voice so low it vibrates against your skin. His right hands pats one of your front pockets. A simple “Oh.” tumbles from your lips at that, mind hardly registering the way he still his moving against your body, nickname rolling out of his tongue too easily.

Finally, you manage to force your key into your door, quickly twisting the metal piece before you push the door open.

This time, you don't know if you pull Johnny in your apartment or if he pushes you in, the door is loudly shut before the men tries to take your near your coach, as you drop your jacket off somewhere.

“Johnny.”, you try to whine, but it comes out as a breathy moan as the men soflty sucks on the skin between your neck and shoulder, a pale purple petal blooming. His name coming from your lips sounds oh so delicious, Johnny decides he loves the way it sounds, determined to hear it again and again, louder and louder. “Let me at least close the door.”

When he lets you do so, not whitout a pout on his lips, they find yours again in a desperate kiss, hands grabbing the back of your thighs.

“This dress looks so fucking good on you.”, he growls once you let him pick you up, black fabric riding up your thighs.

“Got dressed up for you.”, you confess, your own lips traveling down his neck when the brunette sits down on your coach. He chuckles lowly, head rolling back, humming at the small attentions you're giving him. “Hm, saw you putting your makeup on and knew you'd look ravishing.”, he says.

Large hands on your hips, Johnny easily pushes your hips down on his thigh.

“Wow, I'll make sure to pull my curtains next time.”, you tease, blooming flowers on his collarbones.

“Give me a fucking show next time.”, he growls out, hand ghosting over your neck before his thumb traces your bottom lip again.

You almost freeze, mere thought of following his oder the next time you catch him in front of his window a little bit too appealing. Having him so close yet, too far to feel his touch, you already felt it for days.

“Come on, ride my thigh.”, you moan out.

Forceful hands help you find a rhythm, one you easily follow once your thoughts get over your dizzy mind. You mouth hands open, hands grabbing onto his arms at the sudden gesture. Johnny only smirks, an eyebrow arching up.

If he didn't before, he sure does look like a god at this very moment. Blown out pupil look directly into your eyes, honey color you know so well eclipsed. Swollen, red lips, a hue painted over his cheeks, small love bites trialing down. Soft brown hair messy by your hands.

“What ? You think I didn't see you glaring ?”, there's a slight mocking tone in his voice, slight embarrassment washing over you but your body follows his voice anyways. Strong thigh under your core, you can barely gather words to reply, it's even harder when he flexs his muscles under you.

Your hips rocks back and forth, delicious pressure against your nub but you need more, more than just his thigh. He has everything to offer and if you don't get it now, you might go crazy.

And so, you tell him. “Johnny, need more.”, your voice sure sounded a lot less weak but the men obliges.

“Impatient little thing.”, he gestures towards your room, and when think you might not be able to walk all the way there without him pushing you against another wall, you surprisingly do.

When you turn around and crawl up your bed, Johnny's quick to follow, hands gripping onto the fabric covering his back before he pulls it over his head.

Defined abs under his caramel skin, strong arms holding himself up, you need a moment to take everything in, hands running down his chest when he hover over your body.

“Take it off.”, he demands, voice almost strict. Leg over his hip, you barely use any force to change positions.

You sit on his lap a second time, supporting yourself on your knees to take off your dress. The brunette uses his elbows, mouth parting when you pull the fabric over your hips. He barely needs any support to sit up, hands grasping the black dress to help you take the fabric off entirely.

The brunette mumbles praises into your skin, lips ghosting over your neck, hands touching wherever they can. Desperate, he maps your body, learning every curve, every inch.

“So beautiful.”, he mumbles out, before his right hand traces the line of your panties.

They're soaked, wet patch on his black jeans and he doesn't fail to notice.

“Already so wet, hm ? Fuck, can I ?”, he doesn't hesitate once you give him your verbal permission, a finger running over your folds over the light fabric.

What a simple touch can do to you, you don't doubt the men doing it also has a huge part in it, but you shiver under the slight attention.

Biting down on his bottom lip, ring clapped hand dips into your panties, where his index and middle finger gather your juices, humming contently.

You're about to complain again, ask him to do something already but he beats you at it, both fingers effortlessly sliding between your lower lips.

“Fuck, ah— Johnny.”, hands gripping his shoulders, your eyes screw shut once he finds a slow and torturing pace, moving in and out as his thumb brushes over your bud.

It's sensual, burning, one hand travels down his chest until you're met with his jeans, quickly working on them once he nods.

You curse his tight jeans for a moment before he helps you push the fabric just enough, alongside his grey briefs.

And fuck, he's big. You knew when he grinded against your inner thigh, but the way his cock slaps against his stomach, head red and hungry, has your mouth parting, core clenching against his fingers.

“Shit, yeah. Good girl, right there.”, Johnny loses himself in praises, head rushing with thoughts he groans out once your hand wraps around his length.

It's probably the honest thing you've ever seen, Johnny's head rolls back, it hits the wall of your bedroom, Adam's appel bobbing up and down. The pace of his fingers matches the rhythm of your hand around his cock, eyes slightly opening just to watch your slender fingers around him and the way you take his.

“You're so fucking tight, god.”, a third finger goes alongside and you have to pose, jaw hanging open and the brunette can not resist.

His mouth finds yours again, kisses deep, messy, hurried. It's like his starving, he growl against your mouth when your thumb runs over his slit and your hips move against his fingers.

“Fuck, wanna taste you.”, he flips you over too easily, a gasp coming out of your lips when you back harshly hits your bed.

Strong hands gripping at your panties, your hear the sharp snap of the elastic breaking under his soaked fingers.

“Johnny !”, it's between a whine and a moan, how can him ruining your panties be so fucking hot.

“Will get you new ones if you want.”, you can barely recognise his voice, his fingers slide the fabric down and he looks up at you, eyes hungry, lips red.

“You have no fucking idea how hard I was when I found your panties.”, he confesses and, before you can reply, his mouth dives in. Tongue flat against your core, your legs instinctively close around his head, but his hands are quick to pin your thighs to the mattress while yours find his hair, messing it even more.

“Yeah ? Fuck, you're so good, your tongue feels so good.”

Johnny only hums, tongue running up and down until he wraps his lips around your button of nerves. The brunette's eating you out like a starved men, shamelessly, the wet sounds filling the room.

When he takes a break to breathe, he pops his fingers into his mouth, cleaning them.

“Taste so good.”, every word he says fires your body up even more, his mouth doesn't even need to speak for it to affect you, but you need him.

He dives a second time, fingers joining this time. Pace a lot less slow, his lips wrap around your bud a second time, focusing on the small button while his fingers quickly move.

In, out, in, out. Long fingers quickly build up the tension in your stomach, cold rings contrasting with his hot breath.

You only need a little bit more, when his fingers curl the right way, his groans vibrate at the right moment. Your fingers tighten around his locks as you come undone, loudly, unapologetically.

Wet lips, glossy eyes, Johnny looks at your figure as you arch your back away from your bed, moaning into the air.

It takes almost minutes for you to come down but, when you do, Johnny's about to dive a third time. Your hand stops his head.

“Want you inside, want to feel you.”, you tell him once you pulled him towards you face again. A quick kiss is planted on your lips where you can taste yourself, before he hides his face again in your neck, breathing heavily.

“Do you have a condom ?”, he asks, blown out eyes looking into your own.

You nod quickly, pointing at your bed table. You hear the brunette thanking the gods, he didn't want to have and walk all the way to his own appartement to get one. Leaning towards the said bed table, he pulls the small door open and find the box there.

Taking a little foil package between his lips, Johnny quickly closes the small door before hovering over you again.

Pearly teeth are used to open the packaging, he doesn't wait a second to roll the material out on his hard shaft, sighing slightly.

“So tiny, can you even take me ?”, it seems the brunette asks himself, hand jerking himself off.

You answer him anyways, “I can, please.”.

Soft smile on his lips, the brunette uses his hand to align himself with your drenched core.

The tallest thought about this very moment for hours the night before, but nothing prepared him for the tightenes, your wet, hot core wrapping around his head.

You both moan in almost unison, Johnny has to hold himself from slamming in. You, on the other hand, have a hard time wrapping your head around how he's stretching you out so nicely.

A mixture of pleasure and slight pain you're quickly addicted to. A hand claws at his back, the tallest moves inch, by inch, by inch.

“So fucking tight. When's the last time someone fucked you properly ?”, his sudden change in behaviour gives you whiplash, you can only whine at his question and mumble something about not knowing when, exactly.

“Please, fuck me.”, if you have to beg, you will but thankfully, Johnny doesn't have much patience tonight. Once he's fully in, he doesn't hesitate to pull out just to ram in. Your body rides up, head thrown back, moan silent.

“Gonna fuck you nice and deep. Stretch you, yeah ?”

You can only nod eagerly, Johnny laughs breathlessly. His forearm supports his body right next to you head, necklace hanging over your body, right hand tightly holding your hip.

He barely gives you the time to adjust, hips snapping at a steady pace.

Headboard sharply knocking against your wall, your thankful your neighbors aren't here. Still sensitive, your moans turn breathless, barely audible. Forehead against your own, Johnny doesn't hide his moans, your name, any profanities coming to his mind.

“Fuck, turn around for me, baby.”, breathless, chest irregularly moving up and down, he helps you do so after moving out.

Flipping you on your stomach, the brunette curses at himself a second time. His body flush against yours, he supports himself next to your head again, second hand affectionaly running in your hair.

He takes you from behind, cock easily sliding in this time. Moans hidden in your pillow, Johnny doesn't take that, using the hand locked in your locks to turn your head.

“Don't hide your moans, wanna hear you.”

Just like he wanted after stepping into your apartment, the tallest has you whining his name, loudly, until you're numbed, fucked dumb until his name's the only thing you know.

A snap of his hips reaches deeper, it's there you feel the tension threatening to break.

It's like he can read you, he does it again, breathy laugh coming out of his lips.

“Come around me, let go. Let go for me.”, it's all you need, you easily follow his order, core tightening around his shaft.

“God, your pussy’s gripping me.”, his hips alter, lips finding yours again. “Gonna make me come so hard.”

Fucked out, yet you managed to raise your hips, core clenching around him. That does it, loud growl resonates in the room, mixed in with your name.

“Are you okay ?”, Johnny asks, voice soft after he pulls out, throwing the condom in your bin.

You hum, too tired to answer, you smile nonetheless when he takes you into his arm, arm pushing your hair to the side.

“This isn't how I wanted things to go.”, he hums, picking a fallen eyelash from your cheek.

“Oh, really ?”, you ask, tired, his hand running up and down your spine putting you to sleep.

“Wanted to take you out on a date first.”, he admits. “But how do you want me to resist when you were calling me like a siren singing at a lone traveler.”

© NEOVISIONED l NO REPOSTING OR TRANSLATIONS ALLOWED.

[petri808]

Bakudeku canon divergent, vampire quirk AU

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24

When Bakugou finally woke up in the Ena City Hospital, his head was splitting worse than a punch from Kirishima in full quirk, and ears rang with the force of all 108 New Year’s bell tolls. If he’d had no memory of the night before, Bakugou swore he’d just survived the worst hangover in history. Even his eyes hurt from the bright, piercing fluorescent lights and they weren’t even open! He turned his head to the side, noticing how much effort it took just to shift in such a small manner. It was as if his body was drained of... “Ugh, that bastard,” he groaned. ‘Fucker bit me.’ And as if to add insult to injury, a pin-prick pain in his neck revealed itself in that revelation.

His arm flopped up, hand straining with jerky strokes, reaching to touch the fresh bite wound located at the junction of his neck and shoulder. He flinched at the tender, bruising pain that sent a shock down his spine. Son-of— This just in! Pro Hero Dynamite cast in one of those cliché vampire movies that went straight to video. Definitely not the career start he’d envisioned.

“Oh, good you’re finally awake Mr. Bakugou.”

“Who the fuck are you?” he spat at the male voice. “And can someone turn the fucking lights off?!”

“I am Doctor Ishihira, and my apologies,” the doctor flicked off the overhead light. “Is that better?”

“Yeah,” he grumped.

“Mr. Bakugou, you were found yesterday morning and brought in suffering from hypovolemic shock due to severe blood loss and dehydration. We’ve treated you with 3 liters of IV fluids and blood plasma to bring your numbers back up, however you’ll still be groggy until your body replenishes the nutrients you were stripped of.”

Over a day had passed! At hearing he’d been out cold for so long, Bakugou immediately clenched his fists, swearing up and down about being released until they threatened to sedate him for longer. Longer?! He begrudgingly relented and settled down, but damn it! That meant Midoriya had another head start on him again! And now that the man knew he was on his trail, finding him would be a lot more difficult!

“What the hell is hypo-whatever shock?” Bakugou questioned.

“When you were found, you were in and out of consciousness and rambling incoherently, all signs of severe blood loss. The fatigue you’re still feeling is also due to the effects of it. Luckily the amount of loss wasn’t enough to start shutting down your organs.”

The doctor continued explaining a few more details regardless of the tantrum like a robot. Minor injuries he’d been treated for. The obvious puncture wounds in his neck, questioning Bakugou about any description he could provide of his attacker. He wasn’t about to tell this doctor or any authority figure who the true culprit was, so he feigned a temporary retrograde amnesia. Based on a raised brow, peering over his glass’s expression, the doctor didn’t look very convinced. Oh well, Bakugou really didn’t care about the man’s opinion.

“Mr. Bakugou, we also called you parents…”

“You what?!” Bakugou tried to jump off the bed, but his body absolutely refused to respond and ended up flopping like a dying fish. Ugh! He really was worse off than he’d thought.

“I’m sorry, but you are a minor, so we were obligated to do so. However, they did give us permission to treat and release you on your own recognizance once we felt you were better.”

Well, that was good news. ‘Sounds like mom actually listened to my letter.’ Or the authorities surely would have shown up by now. “Ugh! So, how much longer am I stuck here?”

“If you continue to recover well, tomorrow morning.”

Fuck! Now a three-day head start! Just great, he groaned. Midoriya could get far away with that kind of a jump start. “Fine, whatever! Now go the fuck away.”

The doctor left the room after explaining how nurses will be monitoring his progress, but to also let them know if anything started to feel worse. They needed to know if he developed any lasting effects from organ damage. Once he was alone again, Bakugou rolled gingerly onto his side as his mind processed the new information. Whatever Midoriya had been hit with must be the cause of this weird blood thirst that resembled a goddamn vampire plot line. Perhaps the significance of the blood coloring in his eyes was a sign of that thirst taking hold? That’ll be a handy tell, too bad it seemed to appear within seconds of the next step.

But if Midoriya had just fed on a victim, and history showed at times, a span of days before the next incident, what had caused his friend to attack him so fast? Was this thirst like a hunger? And what happens when you exercise or exert yourself? You use up energy. ‘Duh, Katsuki.’ Fighting and expending all that energy must have triggered the attack. ‘Wow, it burns fast.’ That meant Midoriya probably struggled to control this thirst, and that’s why he was pleading for him to leave him alone. But sorry, he couldn’t do that. ‘Fucker shouldn’t have run!’ One way or another he is getting his friend back home where he belonged. In fact, this only made his drive to find Midoriya stronger because he felt like he was partially to blame for the predicament his friend was in. The guy had to be scared, freaked out, and lonely. Bakugou’s heart clenched at the thought. He knew his friend was a social person by nature who loved being around friends and family. To be stuck out here all by himself and too frightened because of whatever this new quirk was had to be horrible… and utterly not fair. Of course, he did have a tendency to isolate himself when he feared…

Bakugou groaned. “Kami, not again with this shit!” When was Midoriya gonna learn to stop running away!

As his eyes relented to the fatigue and his mind slipped back into unconsciousness, Bakugou could only pray he’ll get a lead as soon as he got out of this hospital. This strange new quirk, if that’s really what it was, posed a serious danger not only to Midoriya, but the public. The reputation of pro hero’s had taken a major hit already because of AFO and the league, so if the public found out about a blood drinking hero attacking people… ‘I gotta get you out of here…’

After his encounter with Bakugou, Midoriya had rushed out of town as quickly as possible. Tears poured down his cheeks as he took off into the sky from having given in to the lust of this uncontrollable quirk. But he couldn’t stop it even if he’d wanted to. He’d learned the hard way right at the beginning that once it took hold of his mind, the only thing he could do was give-in or succumb to an even worse ravenous state that literally hurt. The pain of holding out on the hunger made him feel like a starved predatory animal that tore at his insides until he relented. In this state, the blood of any creature that came too close became a meal. But it was never enough. Animal blood didn’t satiate him in the same way that human blood did. Plus, he worried that if he let it get completely out of control, he might just end up killing someone. So far, he’d been lucky to leave them all unconscious but alive.

It was obvious that the light AFO had hit him with contained this strange quirk. How ironic, to take down a villain, only to be turned into one. That’s how Midoriya felt. How else could he feel? A hero wouldn’t hurt other people, so by taking the blood of others for sustenance, that made him a villain. Therefore, he couldn’t be a hero anymore. It must have been AFO’s plan all along once he’d realized he was losing. The villains end goal was to ruin hero society and this was definitely one way to do it. Take out his primary rival. The man poised to carry on a torch of safety and security, and snuff out any who chose to do harm… The whole situation with Bakugou really turned this into a nightmare out of body experience. To see his friend’s eyes suddenly show fear, then fade away the more he drank… his mouth clamped to the man’s neck… it was a horrible imagine that was sure to haunt him. He could still smell the burnt cinnamon from such a close encounter. If only he had clothes to change into or even a pond to bathe in, because that lingering scent was gonna drive him mad!

Midoriya curled up and clenched his eyes shut tight in an abandoned and overgrown castle he’d found outside of Ena. It didn’t look like it’s been maintained for a very long time, so the likelihood of a human showing up seemed low. He knew he should have travelled farther away, but he was too tired, too upset and just wanted to quit. All the years of growing up quirkless, to gain OFA and become the very thing he’d dreamt of, only for those dreams to be dashed again. It was as if life just didn’t want him to be a real hero. Maybe he should just put himself out of his misery, and yet— he couldn’t do it. To die out here alone where no one knew where he was or what had become of him, that wasn’t fair to his family and friends…

They must be so worried about him right now. His poor mother didn’t deserve any of this. Would his friends look down on him now? And All Might, his idol, who’d taken him under his wing, was he disappointed? And that just left Bakugou. He’d said the truth in answering the man’s question. No, Midoriya never would have expected him to come looking. Katsuki Bakugou giving a damn about him? Yeah, right. Bakugou wasn’t doing this because he cared. There was always a selfish reason behind his madness. Fear. Anger. Jealousy. Shouldn’t big bad Dynamight be thrilled that his biggest rival was gone?

Okay that was a big, fat white lie he’d been telling himself for the last two years. He knew Bakugou had moved past those pettier behaviors, but it was simply easier to believe and keep their relationship as rivals than to hope his childhood friend would ever see him as something else. And yet… ‘Kacchan was genuinely surprised by my answer. Did he really come looking for me because he cared that much?’ Yet in what way? Why was the man trying so hard? Did he… ‘miss me?’

Midoriya shook his head violently of those thoughts. No, no, he didn’t want to believe that because it would make this situation even more unbearable than it already was! He’d already given up everything he’d ever loved. His hopes and dreams, a future and losing an affection he’d craved for years would just simply be too much.

[stranger-who-writes-fiction]

Gonna make full use of my ‘comic rant’ tag and roast Future State: Superwoman.

Spoilers! And yelling! Of the disgruntled kind!

So a few things at the start here: 1.) I wanted to love this book. I wanted it to be great. I wanted to give it the benefit of the doubt, in spite of some iffy stuff in the solicit text. So this rant is not coming from a place of having decided this was going to be awful ahead of time. 2.) My tolerance for bad Supergirl comics is pretty high! Takes a lot for me to actually come out and say that a particular issue is trash. Reader: This story is trash.

It’s not ‘middle-aged white guys writing/drawing a story about sending a minor to a potentially hostile planet fully nude’ trash, mind you. It’s the compost bin, rather than the landfill. Slightly nicer trash, but it still stinks to high heaven. Allow me to expand!

PROLOGUE - SUMMARY: ...I actually can’t summarize this comic b/c it would devolve into a lot of senseless yelling. We’ll just have to tease out this terrible plot as we go along. 

PART I - DEAD DOGS TELL BAD TALES: The comic opens with Kara standing at Krypto’s grave. That’s not why this comic is trash, but it bears mentioning. Because why. Why would you do this. 

PART II - IN WHICH IT ONLY GETS WORSE: So, Kara has a running inner monologue, and the main thing we gather from Kara’s thoughts is that it was Krypto who taught her to be a hero. On paper, that sounds very sweet! In practice, it reads as Kara having no moral center whatsoever—whatever good qualities she might possess, she did not learn from her parents, or her foster parents, or friends, or fellow heroes. Nor do they come from within Kara herself. Nope, t’was Krypto who taught Kara not to be a jealous rage monster. That is not hyperbole--Kara’s walking around angry about her cousin all the time and she’s like, ‘It was you, Krypto, who taught me not to judge, and to let go of anger.’ Listen, I love Krypto, but this? This is, as the youth would say, a bad look.

PART III - THOSE CERTAINLY ARE...SOME THEMES:��The set-up here is that Kara is on the moon, and has established a sanctuary for alien refugees. That’s a dynamite idea! I love that! Buuuuut Kara didn’t look at the plight of alien refugees and say, ‘I want to help!’ Really, she didn’t even look at herself and say, ‘I don’t want others to feel like I’ve felt.’ No, she said, ‘Earth won’t accept me as a hero, and Clark didn’t name me protector of Earth, so. I’m out!’ (Honestly, if your moral compass is so whack that you need a dog to walk you back from Hulk-Smashing...can’t say I blame Clark for not picking you, Kara!) But apparently, the people on the moon don’t really like her either. And it is literally never explained why. There’s a whole montage of Kara fixing stuff and saving lives and all the moon folk just glare at her. This makes both the moon people AND Kara look like a**holes, because they come across as ungrateful, and she comes across as a glory hound. Thanks! I hate it! So the ‘peace’ Kara’s found on the moon isn’t really peaceful at all, cause she still resents her cousin, and people still don’t like her, in spite of the fact that she’s constantly performing acts of service for them. 

Also, side note, I’m just now realizing this is an entire population of alien refugees...and Kara is somehow still the odd one out. Like, Earth I get, because everyone else is a human and maybe freaked out by the super powers. But a bunch of aliens? WHY. Why did you do this. Why did this need to be set on the moon with alien refugees if you’re not going to interrogate Kara’s identity as an alien refugee herself AND all of the aliens are inexplicably humanoid in appearance and utterly ordinary in terms of power levels.  

Like. This is not the CW show, where they have a budget, and a huge ensemble cast to serve. YOU HAVE NO EXCUSE. AAARRRRRGHHHH.

PART III CONT’D: There’s also this weird ‘birthright’ element introduced...like, Clark and Jon stole Kara’s ‘right’ to be earth’s defender which is...a terrible reading of Kara’s modern origin. It brings in the idea that Kara is a ‘chosen one’ and because she didn’t get to be that chosen one, all of her hero work is for nothing. Never mind the whole central conceit of what makes Clark and Kara heroic...that they have this incredible power, and choose to do good with it. Nah...it’s all about her ‘right’ to protect the people of Earth! And mean ol’ Clark took that away! THANKS. I HATE IT. 

PART IV - A POOR USE OF SPACE: So, all of the Future State books kind of struggle with the issue of too much exposition, which is understandable. They have to introduce an entirely new status quo in a very limited amount of literal page space, so you *really* have to have a handle on how you allocate your time and focus.  

Introducing a brand new, lore-heavy heroic character who gets all of the development and dynamic art and pulls focus away from the character you’re meant to be writing is a bad use of a two issue limited series.

Like, this is a crappy Supergirl comic but it’s a great backdoor pilot for a Lynari ongoing, I guess. 

Imagine if in the Jon Superman book, they introduced a random, brand new best friend for Jon, and he got the big character arc instead of Jon. That’s something you save for an arc in an ongoing title, NOT A TWO ISSUE EVENT COMIC.  

Back to said new character, there’s a lot of forced attempts to parallel Kara and Lynari, but Lynari’s backstory is so confusing, rushed, and poorly explained that it’s like: okay, they’re both...angry? And the moon jerks hate them? ...uh. Okay.

(I’m gonna bring back my ‘why is this set on the moon, even’ question so that my ‘poor use of space’ header becomes a better joke.) 

PART V - I'M HOLDING OUT FOR A HERO...B/C THERE SURE AIN’T ONE HERE: I’ve already mentioned that Krypto was apparently Kara’s conscience so when Lynari’s aunt arrives to...kill them? (again, everything about Lynari’s backstory is rushed and poorly explained) Kara gets real mad and basically pulls a Gothel: ‘You want me to be the bad guy? Fine! Now I’m the bad guy.’ But thank goodness Lynari is there to tell Kara no! Don’t murder the giant aunt eel! Lynari then steals Kara’s powers and gives up the swamp jewel that’s been hidden inside their body and now their aunt is less murder-y!

WOW. Couldn’t even give the big damn hero moment to Kara in her own book, huh?

So the day is saved. It takes Kara a while to regain her powers, and it’s only then, when she’s no longer ‘above’ the moon jerks, that they’re like, ‘oh, we like her!’ There is a bit of narration about how that attitude is awful. But that narration is provided by Lynari. See, the inner monologue is no longer Kara’s thoughts, but rather it has switched to Lynari’s point of view. They’re telling us this story. And do you know why?

PART VI - WHY THIS COMIC *SUCKS*: KARA DIES. SHE’S THE FRIGGIN’ ‘SECOND GRAVE’ OF THE TITULAR ‘TWO GRAVES’

Fudge this comic to heck.

See, Kara dies on the moon, presumably of old age. She’s buried next to Krypto. And this random character who we’re suddenly supposed to care about tells us her story. Not Clark. Not the Danvers. Not Brainy. Not even one of the supporting cast members from her solo title. No one from Kara’s life is mentioned at all, save for Jon and Clark, and they’re pretty much relegated to flashbacks of Kara punching them. 

PART VII - TIME TO COMPARE DEATHS, I GUESS: First and foremost can I just say that I hate that’s a sentence that I’m typing about Kara in the year of our lord, 2021. But okay: Kara’s big famous death in Crisis stopped the entire DC universe cold. Everyone paused in the middle of the destruction of the multiverse to mourn her loss and honor her (GENUINELY HEROIC) sacrifice. Clark and Barbara--two established characters with a strong connection/relationship to Kara--offered lovely eulogies. 

This one: Kara gets to die of old age in obscurity after a lifetime of striving to be recognized and only achieving it by de-powering and serving a population of jerks. 

Not the warm and fuzzy ending you think it is!

(Meanwhile, Clark lives for millennia and spawns an entire dynasty of Els, all of ‘em out there, protecting the cosmos. I was looking forward to House of El in the hopes of maybe seeing some Kara stuff but NOPE. Thanks to Superwoman, we’re probably not gonna see any future Kara stuff beyond this! G R E A T)

And like, the argument could be made that this ending makes Kara happy. This is the life she chooses! She wants to be alone and garden on the moon! Except, we get zero insight from Kara regarding the remainder of her life. We only have Lynari’s narration and some montage shots...nearly all of which focus on other characters. But honestly, even if we did get Kara’s side of things, I doubt it would shed much light on her feelings, bEEECAUSE...

PART VIII - SUPER BLAND: This Kara really has no personality outside of ‘detached and vaguely bitter.’ I like Sauvage, I think she’s an incredibly talented artist, but here, Kara is stiff and her expression often reads as aloof. She’s very pretty, but it comes at the expense of being expressive. (And I know Sauvage can do expressive stuff...because Lyanari gets to be expressive.) Like...I love that shojo manga vibe but this is a Kara devoid of spark and warmth. 

...Like...Melissa Benoist’s portrayal of Kara is right there... 

I’ve already sort of touched on this but her inner monologue doesn’t have much personality either. She’s just parroting the same, ‘I need to do as Krypto taught me!’ nonsense for both issues. Until, of course, we shift to Lynari’s narration, and lose Kara’s thread entirely. 

PART IX - LET’S WRAP THIS UP: This book frustrates me to no end because it had a lot of stuff going for it. It’s got a female writer and artist--still a rarity for the Supergirl book--it’s a limited series mostly free of continuity and character baggage, and it’s not tied down to the grimdark cyberpunk stuff happening in the Gotham books. YOU COULD’VE DONE ANYTHING. And, once again, DC goes with a pitch that’s: Kara is angry, Kara resents Clark...and Kara dies.

It’s also happening...right as Kara has no dedicated ongoing title, the movie’s been shelved, the TV show is entering its sixth and final season, and all promotion has shifted to new CW and HBO shows. 

*screams into the void* 

MAAAAAAN I hate this book. I hate that it retroactively makes me hate the Andreyko run a little bit--a run that I took to be about a traumatized young woman forced to confront her grief, and who leans on a beloved animal companion for comfort. Here, Krypto is L I T E R A L L Y the reason Kara’s not constantly frying folks with her heat vision. 

I hate that this book has made me use the word ‘literally’ so much in this rant.

I hate that this could possibly be more in continuity than Millennium.

Remember Millennium? Where Kara was in like...five pages? And she was warm, and kind, and promised to help Rose because it was the right thing to do, and oh yes, WAS PRESIDENT OF EARTH?!??! AND A CLASSY OLD LADY!?!?!?!?! WHO WAS STILL ALIVE AND KICKIN’ IN THE FAR FLUNG FUTURE!?!?!?!?!

I hate that I’m using my lunch hour to rant about how much I hate this comic.  

I hate that DC editorial seems hell-bent on erasing the interesting aspects of Kara’s character to sand her down to ‘the angry one’ or ‘Batman 2.0′

PART X - LET’S END ON SOME (?) POSITIVES: Don’t read this book! Don’t do it! Don’t waste your time and money!

Instead, check out ANYTHING ELSE. If you want mom!Kara, read Tom Taylor’s ‘Last Daughters of Krypton’ in the DC Nuclear Winter special. If you want heroic oldlady!Kara, read Millennium. Honestly? Pick up anything by Bendis that has Supergirl in it. It is miles away better than this. You want angry Kara working through her grief? Andreyko, Red Lantern, even Infected. ANYTHING BUT THIS. HECK, grab Superman of Metropolis instead! That has bad Kara characterization but at least she doesn’t end up dead. 

Anyways. This comic is bad. I wish it wasn’t! And this is now the SECOND TIME IN A ROW that Kara’s book ends on a terrible note before the character disappears from monthly comics for an unknown period of time.  

*screams into the void again*

[jjungkooksthighs]

YOU WRITING A MAFIA FIC ... I WOULD DIEEEEEEEE

Honestly? Me too.I’ve had a particular mafia kook idea in my head for awhile now and it would be so good istg (I’m not a confident writer and we all know this but I know this idea would light it up like dynamite because it’s SO DAMN GOOD).

I have an entire plot worked out in my head already and have the aesthetics of what kook would look like and what reader would be wearing.

Let us say that he is leader of Bangtan, the most feared gang in all of the world and on one night, he decides to go to one of the brothels he owns to sate a particular type of hunger that strikes him after he’s finished dealing with a fool that thought it wise to try to steal from the gang’s drug cache.

Let us also say that he’s there to check on earnings of his club and while he sits in the back corner of the brothel with taehyung, the man he’s put in charge of scouting men and women to be exotic dancers, let’s say that when Taehyung talks about how income has skyrocketed since he picked up a new and certain girl, Jungkook’s eyes catch on a female he’s never seen before, his cock instantly hardening while his mouth waters at the sight of the blindfolded, bound creature that rolls her body seductively to the deep, bass music.

Her wrists, like the tie around her head, are bound by satin while she presses her chest against the silver pole before she winds herself up and down it, her blood red dress glittering in the red light that taints her body.

Jungkook has to have to her and so asks Taehyung about her to find out she is a rare virgin who has been making Tae a lot of money because of that in the desire of many to deflower her and Jungkook, besotted by you, the girl in red, decides to bid for you when the auction for the Crimson Jewel (you) are our up for sale with your virginity and ownership are the prizes.

Jungkook wins you and has you taken to a back room and you have no idea who you’ve been sold to, but you’ll soon find out that the man who owns you is no oridinary creature and that, perhaps, giving yourself to someone who looks like sin incarnate may not be so bad if it feels (and appears) this deliciously appetizing....

Oh, and here’s the aesthetic I have for reader and kook: