#i would also like to get better at drawing real people more comfortably digitally for reasons that have nothing to do with the bat seiyuu 😌

[akkivee]

an art meme i bumped into on twitter!!!! and me rambling about it lol

favourite colours: i did this all on my phone so i both colour picked and eyed it, but the first three are the base colours i use for kuukou lol and i tend to fall back on purple when i don’t actively think about which colours to use. (purple, ironically, is my favourite colour 😭😭😭) that brown orange colour warms up my images in ways that make me feel like i know what i’m doing when i colour it sure does save me lmao

favourite subjects: lol i’m actually getting worried i can’t bring myself to draw if he’s not part of the picture but that’s a different conversation lmao

favourite brushes: painting brushes come and go but himogi pen is eternal—

favourite piece: jyushi’s gorgeous, hitoya’s hair didn’t stab me through my stomach mortal kombat style for once, drawing kuukou’s ew04 hair helped me finally decide to draw kuukou’s bangs the way they should be; it was just a piece that improved the way i draw them lol

tried something new: i don’t think i made gif art before this in csp so it was really neat to figure that out!!!!

goals for next year: comic- since all i do is binge korean webcomics nowadays, this goal is heavily influenced by that, but i do miss making short comics 😭 i have an idea for an ichikuu comic i’d love to work on 😭😭 anatomy- if i could draw men’s bodies as juicy and fluidly as nu:carnival’s men, i would never strive to change ever actually LOL animating- had an idea for a gif but it would take a little bit of animation technique to get it to look the way i want. idk how to do that lol animating wasn’t something i was interested in but i can 👍 learn 👍

[ussgallifrey]

Home for the Holidays | Part 2

✦ Summary: Never let it be said that you weren’t willing to do just about anything for your squadron. As you find yourself roped into an elaborate ruse to help fool Hangman’s mother for Christmas all seems to be going according to plan. But when that plan spirals out of control, the line between real and pretend begins to blur.

✦ Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Female Reader

✦ Warnings: Anxiety, fake dating, hurt/comfort, Jake’s family being fake and generally awful towards him, mentions of divorce, minor angst.

✦ Word Count: 9.6k

✦ Author’s Note: Did I envision People Magazine’s 2022 Sexiest Man Alive in the role of Jake’s older brother? Perhaps. Also, to the lovely @top-hhun​​ and @andrewrussgarfield​​, thank you for your constant Glen Powell spams - never stop <3

✦ Tags: @callsignbarb​

[Master List]

The moment you blearily pull yourself up from the pleasant hum of intermittent sleep, it takes you far longer than you'd like to admit to realize that you are no longer aboard the carrier. That the rattling of pipes and the pelting sound of rain is nothing more than your companion starting the shower in the adjacent room. 

Your eyes blink against the darkness, face snuggled into the too-soft pillow. Only the faintest ray of early morning light is visible through the black-out curtains.

It's late, about fifteen minutes past your usual wake-up time. With the glowing green digital alarm clock informing you that it's currently 8:16 am - make that over two hours local time past your usual wake-up.

But you and Seresin clearly were well-oiled military machines who had long passed the use of actual alarms to arise. It also meant that the man's shower would be short and to the point. So you pull yourself free from the tangle of sheets - stretching your arms out wide with a satisfying crack between your shoulder blades. You yank the sheets back in place, stifling a yawn as you brush the wrinkles out of the pillowcase. 

Sleeping in a real bed, with a mattress and sheets, would be considered a luxury by most. For you, however, sleep had been a distant dream last night. Between the usual lullaby of the constant thrum of the flight deck and the ship itself, you were unaccustomed to the stock silence of a hotel room. 

You distantly wondered if your roommate had fared any better.

Rounding the bed, you draw aside the curtains. The city of Austin is bathed in a muddied gray and purple this time of day. Dark clouds on the horizon are the harbinger of rain.

You had meant to ask him what the dress code was for the day, having thrown in a few viable outfits for the occasion - and your own family's get-together in two days, obviously. After hefting your bag onto the bed, you pull them out, unrolling the shirts in a nice even row on the remade bed.

The shower shuts off, the metal rings of the curtain scraping against the rod. A minute later, Hangman emerges in a puff of steam, a towel wrapped around his waist that he currently holds in a death grip with his right hand.

He sputters, using his free hand to push his wet hair away from his face.

You stare at him for a long, silent moment. Trying your best not to focus on the water currently soaking the carpet beneath his bare feet or the roll of droplets down his prominently toned abdominals. He seems equally frozen near the bathroom door.

Straightening out the shirt in your hands, you let your brows raise marginally as you ask a clipped, “Yes?”

He blinks, seemingly remembering himself, “Forgot my damn pants.”

“That jet lag really took a toll on you, huh?” you scoff, turning back to the task at hand as he pads across the floor to retrieve his bag. “What are you wearing for this, by the way?”

He hurries back into the bathroom and you hear the sound of clothes hitting the tile floor.

“Slacks and a shirt, why?”

You shrug, even though he can't see it, “Trying to figure out what to wear. I didn't exactly pack an evening gown.”

“Sure whatever you come up with - ” he pauses for a moment. There’s a clinking of what you believe to be a belt buckle and then he lets out a soft grunt, “ - will be fine.”

Looking over your shoulder at the golden glow spilling out of the bathroom, the faint shadow of Jake on the floor, “You're not instilling a lot of confidence right now, you know that right?”

There's a beat of silence before he pokes his head straight out of the door, “Didn't realize I needed to boost your ego any further there, Pits.”

You chuck the first shirt within reach at his head at the use of that awful nickname, but he easily avoids it. Grinning as he reemerges, straightening out his Henley and picking a loose piece of fuzz off the sleeve. He swoops down to grab your thrown shirt at least, offering it back to you with a soft chuckle.

“Why, what d'ya got?” he asks, a softer tone to go with the playful gleam in his eyes as he makes his way to you, peering at the layout over your shoulder.

“I don't know, sweetheart. I just wanna make a good impression,” your voice is sickeningly sweet, almost sing-song.

Hangman scrunches up his nose at the over-the-top act, his hands fixed on his hips.

“You're the first person I've brought home in over a decade. Unless you insult her cooking or the state of Texas, you should be fine.”

Glancing back at him, you're surprised to see him standing that close to you. You push a hand at his chest to reset the bubble of personal space you were usually afforded. He allows you to move him, though he's basically a living, breathing granite statute with a seemingly permanent shit-eating grin fixed on his face.

His eyes glint in amusement before he finally settles on, “Lose the jeans for this one and pick something that's not this color - ” he tugs at his own burnt umber-colored sweater, “I don't wanna make her think we're that kind of couple.”

“What? You don't want to color coordinate with your girl-friend?”

He grunts in lieu of actual words.

You turn up the shrillness of your voice, “So, I guess that's a no on the matching Christmas pajamas?”

He gives a soft chuckle, running his hand through his still damp hair. And then he's out of your way, snagging up his boots from the closet and sitting down on the edge of the bed to lace them up.

You think you have an outfit in mind now, as you gently pull it to the side and begin rolling the other options back up.

“What time do we need to head out again?”

He drops his hands on his knees with a heavy pat, “Probably close to 13:00?”

You nod in understanding - that would be plenty of time - as he situates himself more comfortably on the bed. Your hand pauses on the bathroom doorway as you watch Hangman pull out his phone and seemingly settle in.

“What, you're not gonna run down to the complimentary breakfast spread?”

His eyes pull away from the screen for a moment to meet your gaze, “Well, not without you. Be fairly rude of me, sweetheart.”

You sigh with realization - he had said practice makes perfect - as you lean against the doorway, “And so it begins.”

Jake laughs, waving you on dismissively, “Hurry your ass up, Pita. I can only be patient for so long.”

Raising the bird in return, you call out from the bathroom, “Better not've used up all the hot water, Bagman.”

“Beat me to the shower next time, sleeping beauty,” he hollers back.

With an amused shake of your head, you close the door and start up the water - relieved to find it to be a perfect scalding temperature. Jake had left the bathroom immaculate, of course. With only a singular used towel hanging on the back of the door to indicate that he had been in there at all.

You step into the tub and let the hot water engulf you as you try to mentally prepare yourself for the day ahead.

Jake slides into the chair across from you at the hotel’s dining area, his plate heaped with the typical continental breakfast servings: pancakes and scrambled eggs, strips of bacon, and a rogue apple that you wonder if he has any actual intention of eating. 

Your own plate reflects the nerves that were surprisingly wracking your system. Plain oatmeal with just a drizzle of honey on top and a white mug of bitter-smelling coffee. 

It was a bit ridiculous, you realize, to feel the way you were. 

You had done this act before - but never on this scale, your mind supplements. And you had agreed to come along for this, of course. But now that you were only a few hours out from go-time, you were genuinely starting to feel like the typical partner would when meeting the parents for the first time.

With only the barest tingling of guilt starting to ease its way in too.

Only a few other patrons are currently dining with the two of you - fairly spread out too. The mounted flatscreen has the Weather Channel playing at a sort of unreasonably loud volume; probably for the benefit of the older couples who were up earlier in the morning.

There's strands of looped garland with twinkling lights throughout the sparsely-decorated room. The little snowmen and thin Christmas trees on the counter are a reminder of the jolly season. Even some of the hotel staff at the front desk had Santa hats on. 

But right now, you were feeling just about anything but the pleasant thrum of yuletide cheer.

After stirring your bowl for another long minute without so much as lifting the utensil up to actually eat anything, you finally let the spoon settle to the side as you eye your companion.

“Okay, Seresin,” you sigh, “Play it out for me again.”

He lets a slow smirk grace his lips as he finishes off the last of his bacon.

“Nerves, Pita?” he mocks, wiping his hands clean on a napkin.

You avoid his gaze as you take a sip of your cooling brew, “Just trying to sell this act.”

He has to bite his lip to keep from outright laughing at the obvious lie, “Right, right. Well, let’s see. We scoot out of here at 12:30, avoid the major roads and show up a few minutes early to contemplate our existence - ” 

His eyes gleam as you snort into your drink.

“My momma flits and fawns over us on the doorstep. She’ll wanna show you around the place, but don’t touch anything. Just compliment her stylistic design choices for a bit. Then food and pleasant small talk. Followed by us trying - and probably failing - to get out of there before nightfall.”

With an accompanying nod, “Sounds easy enough.”

He grins, going back in for his eggs, “Should be a breeze if you use that sweet I just love my boyfriend Jake so damn much charm.”

You scoff, nearly choking on your oatmeal.

He grimaces, “Really selling it, Pits.”

Coughing into your arm, you manage out a gruff, “Fuck off, Hangman.”

He turns his head, waiting for your throat to clear up, slowly working away at his own meal.

“Hmm, okay. You only mentioned your mom. What about your brother…s…?”

There’s a downturn of his lips as his eyes meet yours - annoyed that you had apparently forgotten. As though you weren't constantly bombarded by the stories of thirty-seven other people's families over the course of your deployment.

“Brothers. As in two of them, and a sister 's well. But it’s just gonna be you and me today.”

Before you can stop yourself from prying, you ask a very pointed, “Why?”

Hangman pauses mid-bite. Leaning back in his chair, his spoon clattering to his plate, he stares at your face for a long silent moment. You almost think he’s going to ignore it entirely, but after a full minute, he finally offers up the semblance of an answer.

“I’m the youngest of the bunch. They were out of the house by the time everything with the divorce happened. We all remember things… differently,” he lets out a sigh, settling forward with his arms on the table. “The three of them get on with my old man, me with my momma. Simple as that.”

Not having a proper reply to that, you merely nod, “Okay.”

He waves his hand, as if clearing the air itself of the moment, “Makes our job a hell of a lot easier, that’s for sure.”

You don't ask anything too deep after that, just reassuring the finite details of the visit. He at least helps settle your nerves down to a reasonable level where you don't feel like you're vibrating out of your own skin. And then you're finishing up your breakfast at last and Hangman's collecting your dishes into a careful stack on the table.

Back in the room, the two of you set about relaxing and preparing in your own way. Your companion, for his part, seems too strung now to do much more than doomscroll through his phone from the edge of the bed. You can’t entirely blame him as the minutes tick by and the reality truly sinks in.

Fooling an interested girl or a pushy guy every once in a blue moon was one thing. But putting on the act, for more than an hour, for one of your parents, while sober, well… that was the biggest form of uncharted territory there was.

You try to hype yourself up in the bathroom mirror as you apply some makeup.

Unfortunately, your typical day-to-day life didn’t involve this level of self-care, and you almost regretted bringing it along to begin with, but you were trying to play a certain role. So, you monkey with the blender sponge and hope to god the foundation in your bag matches your actual skin tone.

I agreed to do this.

As strange as it seems, it’s really for his benefit in the long run.

It’s just a few hours of this and then we’re done.

Though you try to remind yourself of the facts - the basic parameters of this strange mission the two of you were on - your own mind seems to want to play against you with every turn of positivity.

No one will buy the act.

You’re fooling an innocent woman.

This is crossing some serious moral boundaries.

And while the rest of your squadron was off enjoying the first real day of their short leave, you were about to do this. You could be back home, taking it slow and easy with the people who mattered; the people who loved you. Instead, you were trying to look like a presentable girlfriend for your wingman.

You’re grateful that your stealth companion waits for you to finish the final coat of mascara before he gives a low whistle from the open doorway. It’s also a good thing that your reflexes are as steady as they are because you have to suppress the startled jump your body wants to take, gripping the counter and uttering a dammit, Seresin instead.

Offering him a tight grimace as you pack away your supplies, Jake steps forward - uncrossing his arms - until he’s standing just behind you.

“You clean up good, Pits.”

If you didn’t think your mascara would smear, you probably would have rolled your eyes. Instead, you meet his gaze in the reflection of the mirror. The two of you looked good together. In fact, if you were an unsuspecting passerby, you could almost say you looked like a typical couple.

“You say that to all the girls, Jake.”

“Ooh,” he recoils, smiling wide. “That’s honestly weird.”

Brushing past him to get back to your bag in the main room, you ask over your shoulder, “What, me calling you by your real name?”

“Yes!”

You just shake your head, sitting down on your bed to zip your makeup kit back into your travel bag, and fix him with a long look.

“Well, that’s what you wanted me to do, right?”

He seems conflicted, challenged by the situation in a way he can’t quite gain control of as he twists the watch on his wrist over and over again.

“So used to you calling me Hangman,” the smile he shoots your way is soft and genuine, “But I can’t exactly have you doing that in front of my momma, now can I?”

You shrug in understanding, settling your arms on your knees as you seem to contemplate your options, “I guess I could pull out one of those cute little pet names you love so much?”

Mulling it over for a second, he ultimately nods, returning to pacing a small circle in front of the dresser.

“Nothing too… gooey, for my sake, please. I won’t be able to keep a straight face.”

Crossing your heart and holding up your hand like you were swearing an oath, “I’ll keep it simple for your poor conservative heart, promise.”

Hangman grins, going to grab his phone off the charger, “You’re a saint, Pita.”

Giving a half-hearted thumbs up for him, you go searching through the inner pocket of your bag for the small metal case you had brought along from home. Flicking open the switch lock, you pull out the small gold chain. Having to dip your chin down to lay the necklace around your neck and work the clasp into place.

Only when you lift your head back up do you notice your companion’s very pointed gaze. Almost self-consciously, you grab hold of the golden heart dangling from the chain - resting just above your sternum.

“Thought it’d be a good touch,” you mumble, dropping your hands to your lap once again.

When you do meet his eyes, his gaze is easy and his lips are quirked into a playful smirk, “What, did I buy that for you?”

Glancing down at the chain once more, you merely lift your hands in a vague if that’s what you want kind of gesture.

“Well, all right then,” he grins.

In truth, it had been a gift from your parents before you left for the Academy. A familiar reminder of the family you had waiting for you across the country and, eventually, across the ocean. 

But, for today only, it could serve as the supposed token of loving affection from your fake boyfriend.

Anything to sell the act, right?

The rental car comes to a stop in the driveway. Jake’s knuckles are nearly paper white from where they’re gripping the steering wheel.

You don’t want to say anything, for fear of making the situation worse. 

While things had been fine leading up to leaving the room, everything seemed to change the moment you were actually sitting in the car. The entire ride had been traveled in near silence with the tension so palpable it was almost strangulating. At one point, three stop signs back, he had made the fraught suggestion of just turning around and going back to the hotel. 

But here you were.

In the cookie-cutter model home neighborhood of peak upper-class Austin suburbia. 

The house you’re parked outside of is practically identical to every other one on the street. A newer two-story, gray-sided building with white windows and doors, black accents, and fake-stone columns. The only difference seems to be that the main walkway is lined with two perfect rows of immaculate pink begonia flowers.

You glance back over at Hangman and find that he’s not moved from his position of looking like he’s seconds from reversing the car and driving all the way back to Lemoore.

“So…” your voice is disturbingly loud in the cabin of the car and you wince at the unintentional volume, “Are we doing this?”

He grips the wheel tighter, breathing out through his nose. 

Raindrops lazily make their journey down the windshield. While the weather had offered you nothing more than a late-season drizzle, the real storm seems to be brewing in the driver’s seat next to you. The air tenses for a final assault, the formation of thunder clouds before the initial clap of lightning.

“Yeah,” he grits out through a drawn breath, “Fuck it.”

Jake pulls the keys from the ignition and props open his door, urging you to do the same. You wait for him, dutifully, as he rounds the front of the rental car before the two of you head up the path to the house.

It feels a lot less like a companionable holiday visit and much more like the final walk up to the executioner’s block. Even the ornate blow-mold snowman on the front stoop does nothing to change the mood.

When faced with the white and gold ribboned wreath on the front door, he pauses, angling his head down toward your ear to say, “I owe you so much.”

You crane your neck to meet his eyes, his face is so close to your own that the scent of his aftershave lingers in your senses.

“Thank me when it’s over.”

With a curt nod, he reaches out to knock three times on the door before recoiling his hand and immediately placing it on your lower back. You’re barely able to force a smile onto your face before the door is opening up.

It almost begs to question just how long she had been standing on the other side, waiting for that signaling knock.

“Oh! Look at you.”

Patricia Seresin is a thin-faced woman with honey-colored eyes and sharp dimples, much like her son’s. Her hair is more of the boxed-dyed blonde variety than natural and her tanned complexion stands out against the collar of her white turtleneck. 

She spreads her arms wide open, almost as though going in for a hug, her hands coming so close to touching both yours and Jake’s faces before ultimately stopping a good inch short. Her lips form a tight smile as she brings her hands back close to her chest, gripped tightly together.

“Hi, Momma,” he smiles from beside you, his fingers digging in further against your back. “This is - ”

Jake introduces you by rank and name, though you’re a little more distracted by the rogue Yorkie in a miniature Christmas sweater that comes barrelling through the doorway to yap at you.

Patty swoops the pup into her arms, flicking it on the nose, “That’s downright rude and you know it.”

Hangman coughs into his fist as the tiny dog begins to snarl at the two of you.

You quickly step forward, “It’s nice to finally meet you!”

Her eyes light up, clearly delighted, “Well, it was a bit of a shock to me, dear. He talks about you often enough that I thought something might be going on but I never expected - oh, gosh. Look at me! Come in, come in!”

She moves ahead into the foyer while you glance back at Hangman who gives you an approving nod. So far, so good.

As the two of you kick off your shoes and boots, he says, “Momma, I didn’t think that thing was still kicking after all this time.”

“Jacob Daniel!”

You snort at the use of his full name and he merely smirks at you.

“Peppi has been in this family for fourteen years now, he’s far from death’s door, thank you very much.”

While the dog in question has seemingly had his fill of you both, his tiny little nails clacking against the wood-grain linoleum, Patty watches the two of you from just across the entryway.

“Where were you two staying again?”

“The, uh, Hilton. On Burnet,” Jake carefully places your boots next to his on the designated rug by the door. All the shoes are in a perfect line, actually - without so much as a speck or scuff on them.

She hums, glancing over at the large black ornate clock on the wall that reads just five minutes after the hour. Her eyes appraise the two of you for another second before she heads into the kitchen.

“I have two perfectly good guest rooms, Jacob. You know that. I would have been more than happy to have you and your beautiful girlfriend spend the night here.”

While you mouth the word beautiful at him in a moment of surprise, he just sighs and throws a forlorn look your way. The two of you follow after her into the kitchen at the rear of the house.

“I know that, Momma.”

You can’t help but stare at the bare gray walls, the few metallic gold pieces of decor on the entry table, a single glass Christmas tree mold on the island counter. You were almost afraid to breathe, let alone touch anything of hers. It was just so minimalistic.

Grabbing hold of Jake’s arm instead, with both of your hands, you smile, “I think what Jake means to say is that he didn’t want to intrude. We’re both still stuck on ship time right now.”

She pauses what she’s doing near the stove, turning back to properly look at you. It takes a second but she smiles and nods.

“I don’t know how you put up with it,” she laughs, incredulous, “He was such an awful guest whenever he came back home. If he bothered to come back at all.”

“Momma,” he sighs, all too good-naturedly.

But the last part had been said so abruptly, so coolly, that you barely have the chance to school your features. Even though he seems to deflect the comment with a roll of his eyes and a can you believe this jokester sort of attitude. 

Jake merely squeezes your arm and walks across the room to his mother’s side, with a hey, anything I can help with, while you’re still trying to process the words.

As a naval officer, you prided yourself in maintaining a certain composure under pressure. From day one at the Academy, you knew what the expectations were when it came to inspections and standing at stock-still attention. Upperclassmen screaming instructions in your face during Plebe Summer had you trained to be as cool as a cucumber. Infallible.

But right now, for the first time since that initial intake day, you were genuinely struggling. And it wasn’t even your family, let alone your drama. Hell, it was barely even one comment of ill contempt. And yet…

Remember the act, you remind yourself. Schooling it in, forcing that oblivious and sweet smile to grace your lips once again as you move to join Jake and his mother.

Each stovetop burner is in use, with different pots of food steaming away. It all smells delicious, of course - a classic holiday spread. The counter along the window is covered in foil-wrapped platters and serving trays. From the looks of it, it's far more food than what three people and a senior dog could possibly eat.

She bats his hand away from one of the pans with her wooden spoon, a warm smile on his face as he leans down to kiss the top of her head.

“It’s good to see you outside of those grainy video calls,” she admits, turning around to wipe her hands on an ornate dish towel. “Now, this’ll just take another hour to finish up, so what can I get you in the meantime?”

While Jake seems more than comfortable going straight to the fridge in search of his own drink, you glance down at the array of trays on the island - already uncovered and waiting. There’s so much food.

“Oh, honey, please grab a plate and help yourself. Those deviled eggs are my specialty!”

Jake’s suddenly at your side, “She’s gonna have to pass on those, Momma. Thought I told you?”

Patricia scrunches her brows as you try to ease your way out of your fake boyfriend’s grasp to get a plate for yourself, “It’s okay, really.”

He sidesteps you again, leveling you with a playfully stern expression.

“Baby.”

The way he drawls out the pet name is such a good touch, you almost want to high-five him for it. 

“We don’t need you sick in the bathroom before the main course even comes out.”

You’re a little surprised that he remembered your egg intolerance. Not that it was a closely guarded secret or anything. But yeah, probably a good call on his part. Considering there was a rather large tray of them too.

“Oh,” she sighs, a hand to her chest, “Honestly, would one little egg really do that much damage, Jacob? See - ” she reaches out to guide you along the island, “Just about everyone uses paprika in their recipe. But me? I use chipotle. You taste this and tell me it’s not the best deviled egg you’ve ever had.”

Suddenly faced with the aforementioned appetizer, you gulp down a reflexive gag and try to smile a polite apology.

“Nope, not happening - ” Jake immediately swipes the morsel from his mother’s hand and shoves it into his own mouth.

Patricia, for her part, seems to give up the argument after glancing over at you. Instead, eyeing her son with a tired sort of look that spoke of dealing with several years of similar antics growing up.

“Honestly, Jacob.”

He just grins, licking his fingers clean.

“Just looking out for my girl, Momma.”

Your heart does swell a little bit at that. He was selling this part so well. You would have to up your own game to match his level - just like when you were flying together. There was a reason Manning always paired you two up for training: you were always pushing each other to do better.

“Sorry, they do look delicious,” you lightly schmooze, moving to wrap your hand around his left arm, leaning your head just slightly so towards his shoulder.

She sighs reluctantly, “Well, if they would be that much of an inconvenience to you…” with another shake of her head, she moves back to the stove, “Jacob, why don't you show her around while I finish this up?”

After nabbing another egg for himself, he gives a little nod and gestures with his chin further into the room. Feeling bold, you drag your hand down his arm until you’re able to clasp your palm with his. His soft green eyes gleam as he tugs you along into the adjoining seating area.

“So,” you keep your voice low, “I’m guessing this isn’t where you grew up?”

Jake glances down at you, “Uh, yeah. She got this place right after they, you know - ” he makes a general slashing motion with his right hand.

“Well, it’s very pretty,” you say, a little louder for her hopeful benefit.

He seems to disagree, stopping in front of the corner fireplace where a light draping of sparkly white garland rests.

“It’s plain and sterile, I'll give it that.”

While you didn’t necessarily disagree with his sentiment, you certainly wouldn’t say it out loud.

There’s three picture frames on the mantle. A black and white portrait of two blonde boys holding a baby wrapped in a blanket. The middle frame holds another baby, a newborn photoshoot from the looks of it - also in black and white. And on the far side is an outdoor shot of three little blonde girls and a boy, also in a monochromatic scale.

“Are these the - ”

“Grandkids,” he nods.

You let out a low whistle, “Could probably form a baseball team in a few years.”

That makes him laugh, slipping his hand from yours to rub at his chin.

“God, I think we’re missing one in here,” he squints at the picture on the far right, “Yeah, yeah. This was before June was born - my niece. Sister’s youngest.”

He lets out a soft hum as he stares at the frames for another moment more - almost like he was preparing to comment further on it. But then he finally jerks his head towards the front of the house.

“Come on, I’ll give you the grand tour.”

As he leads you toward the dining room, you glance back to see Patricia watching the two of you with an unreadable kind of expression on her face. You can only hope that you’re selling the act as well as you thought you were.

In the privacy of the adjoining room, he admitted that he thought the two of you were being pretty convincing. Promising that you just had to make it through dinner and then you would be in the home stretch.

You ended up back in the kitchen, not that long after the short tour of the downstairs area. Hovering next to the island counter, not willing to touch it after you spotted Patty with a bottle of disinfectant shortly after you returned. If Jake’s earlier words hadn’t given it away, then the bare-bones and precision-made state of her home made it pretty apparent that the woman was very much concerned with cleanliness.

In truth though, it doesn’t take long at all for her to finish the final touches of prep. With the two of you helping to at least bring the food to the table - though she ultimately directs where everything is put down and how it’s placed. But, you figure she made all of this food so she deserves to have it done her way.

The long dining table is set for three, though it’s obvious the space was made for a much larger crowd. Gentle instrumental Christmas covers play from a CD player in the corner of the room. Jake makes easy enough conversation with her at first. Asking after her gardening and her weekly aerobics class.

But, fairly soon, the conversation turns over to you.

“So, do you have one of those pilot nicknames too?”

“Callsign, Momma,” Jake sighs with a gentle smile, shaking his head like it was a common mistake he dealt with.

You grab a second piece of cornbread from the plate in front of you. Almost sheepish to explain it out loud to someone outside of your squadron, “Uh, yeah. They call me Pita.”

She pauses, her fork halfway to her mouth as she glances from you to Jake.

“You’re- you’re not one of those vegetarian types, are you, dear?”

“Uhm - ” you balk, looking towards your wingman.

“Ma - ” Jake runs his hand down his jaw, “P-I-T-A, like the bread. Not the animal rights group.”

She gulps, then smiles - a little uneasily - “Well, all right then.”

“It’s, uhm, it’s an acronym, actually,” you smile awkwardly gently pulling apart the roll, “It’s not because I just really love pita pockets or anything.”

The moment it leaves your mouth though, you realize you might have made a grave mistake after looking over at Jake. It wasn’t, exactly, the most appropriate of words. And maybe, based on how sweet bless your heart southern Patricia was, you should have known better.

You watch the way that his Adam’s apple bobs for a moment before he reaches over to squeeze your hand on the table.

“Yeah, it stands for Pretty Terrific in the Air. Can you believe that?”

You’re fast to nod in agreement - like he didn’t just pull that out of nowhere. But, to be fair, he did know the woman better than you and probably knew what she could reasonably handle. 

He kicks your foot under the table.

“Oh, now that is sweet,” she fawns, “I know this boy here was given his little nickname because he’s just so good at that hangman game.”

Your brows raise in surprise because that was definitely not why he was given that callsign. You thump his foot with your own and he immediately traps the toe of your sock with his own, shooting you a pointed don’t you dare look. 

“Yup, that’s it, Momma.”

You have to bite down on your tongue to keep from smiling too wide. Man, if only the rest of the squadron could hear this crap. They would have a fucking field day with Ms. Pretty Terrific in the Air and the apparent reigning kids' word-game champion.

Another minute passes as you work at the food on your plate. It was good, pretty filling, very heavy on the butter content, and definitely not as good as the stuff your own family made - not that you would ever say that to your hostess, of course.

“Mmm,” she sets her water glass back down on its designated coaster. “So, are you two going up to see your family too?”

Ah, this was one moment the two of you had discussed, luckily.

“Yup,” Jake grins. “We head out Wednesday. Figure we’ll have an extra night here to recover from all the traveling.”

In actuality, you were both going to the airport on Wednesday. With you traveling to Detroit Metro and Jake heading off to Fresno once again. While you would be spending the last few days of your leave in the company of your own family, he had plans to relax and unwind back in California.

But she certainly didn’t need to know that.

Patricia nods, “And where is home again? Jacob didn’t mention, I don’t believe.”

The man in question seems very focused on his plate, refusing to meet your eyes. 

While some of the squadron were vocal about home, or it was apparent in their regional accents and - in Jake’s case - his football team of choice. The topic of home more often than not was focused on the family and people you left behind. And, much like how you hadn’t been able to recall the number of siblings he had, you doubt Hangman had been able to remember that little tidbit about you.

“Michigan.”

“Oh, quite a ways up there then!” she exclaims with a laugh. But then she places her cutlery down on the sides of her plate and fixes you with a focused stare. “And what exactly do your parents do, dear?”

Swallowing the food in your mouth before responding, feeling a little bit like you were on the receiving end of a subtle interrogation.

“They, uh, they own a bed and breakfast. That’s where we’ll be staying actually,” you glance over at your companion, “They always decorate it so pretty this time of year too. Though I just love your decor here, it's really quite beautiful, Patty.”

She holds a hand to her heart, “Why, thank you! No one quite knows the amount of work that goes into making this house look the way it does.”

And then she’s off on another tangent about the places she shops and the amount that every little thing costs. Jake seems very resigned from the conversation at that point, tiredly glancing out the front window, while you try to appear interested and excited at her words.

It’s only when she teasingly chastises you for not taking a second helping of her famous mashed potatoes, that things take a rather interesting turn.

“What the - ” Jake murmurs around a mouthful of turkey.

He wipes his lips clean with the white cloth napkin and cranes his head towards the window at the end of the table, nearly leaning into the contents of his plate.

“Uh, Ma. Were you expecting company?”

One glance over at her and you can see the obvious brewing of excited anticipation, like a kid trying to hide the gift they made for their parents for Christmas.

A sudden rush of dread hits you, seeping into your stomach and turning the otherwise delicious meal into a sloshing upheaval of disagreeable mush. Patricia stands up, not even bothering to fold her napkin as she strides out of the room on near-tiptoe.

“Momma?” Jake calls after her, sending you a distressed look as he rises to follow after her.

“What do you think - ” you go to ask.

He just shakes his head, halfway out of the room, “Don’t know.”

Since you didn’t want to be the last one out of the loop, you’re quick to follow after the two of them. Rounding the hallway just as the front door opens and a happy scream from your hostess rings out.

“Oh! Look at you! My handsome boy.”

You’re just a step behind Jake. He’s sagged against the wall - holding his arm out to stop you from moving any further.

“Shit,” he mutters, stress and agitation vibrating off of him as he runs a hasty hand through his hair.

The object of his frustration comes into view the moment Patty shuts the door, guiding the man into the foyer with a proud sort of look on her face.

Your stomach drops. Quickly looking towards Jake for support in the matter but he’s already long gone as he clenches the hand blocking your path, dropping it to his side.

“Hey, Jackie,” the man grins, his dimples eerily similar to the two other blondes in the room.

Straightening his back, Jake gestures from you to the other man, “Honey. Meet my brother. Josh.”

It wouldn’t take a forensic investigator to notice the obvious tension between Jake and his older brother. As he grips his cutlery with newfound aggression, barely speaking with more than single-word answers.

The man - Joshua, but call me Josh - is very obviously a Seresin child. 

He’s got the signature dimples, of course. But he’s taller than your date, by about five or six inches. His hair is a shade darker too, speckled with bits of gray and amber - and with a well-groomed beard to match. He’s got the playful gleam in his eyes that Hangman often has, but his are of an ocean blue variety - not the familiar meadow green you were used to seeing.

And he seems far more comfortable in the environment than the two of you. Sitting next to Patricia, directly across from his younger brother. Piling a plate high with food.

“So, you got yourself a girl? Didn’t mention that the last time we talked,” he smirks, biting into a roll.

“Nope,” comes the clipped reply.

You grip your own fork tighter, nervously glancing between the two of them. It makes you wonder just how long it had been since these two had last spoken. Half a year, if not more, would be your guess.

Josh chuckles, looking over at you instead.

“And you are the poor unfortunate person who has to share a room with this guy? My condolences.”

You force out a small laugh, though every instinct makes you want to chuck your water in the guy’s face.

“I assure you, compared to some of the people I’ve had to share berthing with, this man is the best roommate anyone could ask for.”

Green eyes meet yours and you carefully squeeze his hand. You could get through this - the two of you. Just grin and bear this unexpected encounter and make an early excuse to leave. You’d certainly faced far worse situations than this before.

The older Seresin brother huffs in consideration, leaning back in his chair as he starts to work into the rest of his meal.

“So,” Patricia’s voice is an octave too high, having keenly noticed the shift in conversation, “How’s my grandson?”

He smiles, digging into his pants pocket for a moment to retrieve his phone, “Getting into trouble. Kid’s climbing just about everything now.”

Patty coos as he hands the phone over to her, clearly looking at a picture of the boy in question, “He’s got your nose, Joshy. Gosh, what a looker. How’s Angie holding up?”

With a shrug, he takes the phone and passes it over to Jake who merely stares at it with an unreadable expression.

“Eight months last week, she’s about as big as a balloon now and barely gets off the couch - says her feet are swelling up.”

Jake pushes the phone along to you and you glance down at the picture of the, admittedly, cute-looking baby. With wisps of blonde hair and rosy cheeks. Your companion snorts, indignantly.

“You left your pregnant wife at home, alone, with a baby?”

Looking up from the phone, you turn to see the seething look on Jake's face.

Josh waves dismissively, “Yeah, she can’t fly now. And like hell I’m bringing DJ along on his own - sorry, Ma. The kid’s a handful right now. Figured everyone will come over to Houston after this one’s born anyway. Give the girl a break from the usual rodeo show of a family Christmas.”

“A break?” Jake shakes his head, gritting his teeth with a hollow laugh, "I'm sure trying to wrangle your kid all day long is what she considers a break."

"Jacob -"

"Nah, it's okay, Momma," Josh had an almost wolfish grin as he holds out a hand to seemingly settle her. 

"This one wouldn't know anything about that life. I mean, this is the first time since, what - high school - that he's had someone around? No offense, Jackie."

Jake, for his extreme benefit, forces a tight grin - something far more similar to Hangman than anything you had seen yet today.

"And yet…"

The slamming of silverware on porcelain makes you startle, eyes widening as you stare at the stern-looking matriarch.

“Jacob,” she nearly hisses, “This was a perfectly lovely meal up until five minutes ago. Could you put aside your unnecessary opinions for the sake of not only Christmas but for the sake of your girlfriend? Who, in case you failed to notice, is probably receiving an absolutely terrible impression of us right now.”

“I don’t - ” you try to soften the blow.

Hangman clenches his jaw, rolling his neck - the tension falling to his shoulders and back. Snatching his half-empty glass from the table, he rises and all but stalks out of the room.

You stare after his retreating form for a moment, compelled to follow after him but also equally frozen by the situation.

And then a low whistle from just across the table rings out.

Glancing over at the older Seresin brother, you meet his clearly amused eyes.

“See? He’s still throwing fits after all this time. Maybe that’s why they haven’t promoted him yet.”

“Honestly, Joshua,” Patty sighs, carefully resuming her meal with dainty bites.

If you weren’t more concerned with your friend’s image today, perhaps you would have said something. Not held back your punches. But you were still in the middle of the chess game, even if there was an unexpected player on the board. So, with all the decorum you can manage, you grab your own glass and slide out of your chair.

“I’m gonna go check on him.”

Just out of earshot and out of sight from the dining room, you find your wingman stock still in the middle of the kitchen, staring out the back window.

You clear your throat, knowing better than to startle him. His shoulders immediately sag as you come up alongside him.

“We good? Jake?”

It takes a second, but his soft green eyes meet yours.

“I’m sorry for draggin’ you into this whole thing, Pita.”

With a smirk and a slight shake of your head, you slap his arm gently.

“You think I give a damn about your hotshot brother over there? Please, we eat guys like him for breakfast and you know it.”

You’re grateful that the stupid line manages to make him chuckle, dropping his head down before he meets your gaze again.

“Still, didn’t exactly prepare you for this.”

“Eh,” you shrug. “What’s one more family member? And hey, I can fake a migraine or something and get us out of here before she brings out the desserts, you know?”

Jake sighs, wrapping his arm around your shoulders - tucking your head in just below his chin, “You’re a fucking saint, Pits.”

You smile into the fabric of his sweater, hands finding purchase on his waist, “And don’t you forget it when we’re back on base, Seresin.”

The faintest touch of his lips on the top of your head makes you flush with warmth, but the moment quickly dissipates when you hear a teasing awww from the other side of the room.

The two of you turn - Jake’s arm still around your shoulders - only to find Josh, with his phone in hand.

“I’m sorry,” he smiles. “I know I came in a little hot back there. But this right here?” he points at the two of you, “That was too sweet. And Jess was begging me for proof anyway.”

Jake clears his throat, his hand tightening from where it rests on your bicep.

“What?”

Josh’s brow bunches together for a moment as he begins to walk towards the two of you.

“Well, I mean the fact that you actually are dating - bringing someone home, I might add. That’s kind of big news, buddy. Jess didn’t believe me at first. So, I sent her this and - ”

He holds up his phone and turns the screen to face you. You’re met with the image of Jake’s face on the top of your head, your own arms around his middle. If you didn’t know better, you would assume the two of you were a couple.

“Hell, Dad is gonna be ecstatic when he meets you - ” he smiles at you.

But Jake almost seems to push you back, his arm becoming a barrier between you and own his brother.

“Dad?”

Another furrowed brow crosses his face as he swipes up the bottle of red on the countertop, “Well, yeah? Ma said you guys were in town until Wednesday, so I figured you were coming to their thing tomorrow.”

Hangman rubs a hand down his face.

“I never fucking said that, man.”

“Jesus,” Josh chuckles, holding his hand up in mock surrender. “Need to get over that shit, Jackie. It was a long ass time ago and everyone’s gonna be there anyway. Shit, Kensie hasn’t seen you in almost five years - she starts middle school next fall.”

He groans in annoyance and you quickly step out of his line of fire as he begins to pace along the island.

“Yeah, well maybe I wasn’t ready to go visiting him yet. Maybe I didn’t want to involve her in this whole thing. God, would you just fucking think about something other than yourself for once?”

Jake seems about ready to hit his second wind, going in for the kill shot, when the phone in his pocket starts pinging: one notification after the other. He sighs, yanking the device out to stare at the incoming hailstorm of messages from the family group chat.

“Just… had to go runnin’ your mouth to Jess of all people.”

Josh, by now, has opened the bottle and pulled down three glasses. He swishes the wine in his for a moment, offering a half-hearted, “Sorry, man.”

In return, Jake just scoffs, firing off a text before finally looking over at you.

“They want me - us, to come over tomorrow.”

You stare at your friend, your companion, your wingman.

He’s the epitome of anxiety-ridden and stressed out. Clenching his hands into fists, chewing a sore spot onto his bottom lip.

You think about Patricia and Josh, how they’ve treated him while here in your presence. Then you consider the obvious hold-up he seemed to have about anything to do with his own father. If today was the test run, then tomorrow was nearly guaranteed to be the real shitshow.

In good conscience, you knew you couldn’t let him face that alone.

Not many people outside of your squadron would willingly give Hangman the time of day. He appeared cocky, a little too smart-alec for his own good. But you could see right through that act - right through the bullshit. And this man was terrified at the prospect of having to show up to a family get-together with almost no real way out.

Patty had already dropped the little fact that the two of you were already going to be in Austin an extra day. His sister was seemingly excited to meet you, his totally not fake girlfriend.

And, when you consider all the things the two of you had been through together. The missions you had flown when life and death were truly on the line, well… this didn’t seem all that bad, now did it?

With a calming breath, you smile gently up at Jake.

“Okay.”

He blinks, seemingly resetting his brain back a few seconds as he repeats, “O-okay?”

“Yeah, honey. I’m with you,” you reach for his hand, and like a personal life preserver, he latches on and squeezes tightly.

The two of you make it through the rest of the meal with tight-lipped and less-than-genuine smiles. You bite your tongue at the overly rude comments and try your best to shed Jake in good light. At one point, Patty disappears into the kitchen for a solid fifteen minutes when things become a little too heated between the brothers again.

She comes back with the slightest sway to her step and an all-together more pleasant attitude.

You make it through dessert and offer to help clean up. Jake and his brother share a very intense conversation on the couch as you pack up leftovers for Patricia. His eyes meet yours several times, but he just shakes his head and gets drawn back into the discussion again.

By the time the sky is falling dark and the porch lights across the street are turning on in near-perfect synchronicity, the two of you had clearly had your fill.

With Jake promising to call her more often, or at the very least try to write more often. And, with a stoic face, he slaps his brother on the shoulder and says that the two of you will see him tomorrow afternoon.

The drive back to the hotel is silent once again. Though you can’t particularly blame the guy. If he was anywhere near as exhausted as you felt, then the silence was a fucking reprieve from the day.

Once inside the sanctuary of your room, you both go about stripping the masks you had worn, with Jake allowing you first go at the bathroom to wipe off your makeup and properly clean your face. He’s sat on the edge of his bed when you do emerge in your pajama pants and sleep shirt. His boots are still on, his hands in an entwined fist between his spread legs, and his eyes fixed on a place far away from the hotel carpet in front of him.

With a gentle sigh, you carefully place your toiletry bag back on the dresser and make your way over to him, dropping down to your knees in front of him.

“Talk to me, Seresin.”

It takes a second, but his eyes flash up to meet your own. He settles his hands on his knees and takes a long breath.

“Thank you, for all of that today.”

You offer him the slightest quirk of your lips.

“I told you; I keep my promises.”

“Yeah,” he breathes out, “But you didn’t originally agree to a repeat show.”

Your hand pushes at his leg, trying to ease him out of his tense shell, “Come on, missions change all the time. The rules of engagement stay the same, but sometimes a single target turns into two or more. I agreed to do this for you and I’m gonna see it through.”

He tilts his head back, his throat bobbing as he gulps with the slightest hitch in his voice, “I know.”

“Then will you let the fact that we absolutely rocked it out of the fucking park today sink in for a moment?”

It was true. Patty had almost hugged you at the end - the closest form of real affection that she seemed willing to give. Had eagerly complimented Jake on how wonderful, accomplished, and pretty his girlfriend was. She had even pressed about seeing you again next year, with him wrapping his arm around your waist and smiling wide with a teasing, well, we’ll see about that, Momma.

There was no chance in hell Jake would get another leave over the Christmas holiday again. Even less likely was the chance of the two of you traveling down to Austin to perform this stunt ever again. The fact of the matter was, the two of you were going to “break up” sometime in the next few weeks. And maybe then, she would lay off the relationship talk for a little while longer.

That or Jake just had to stop replying to her emails.

“Admit it,” you grab his knee and gently rock his leg back and forth, “We make a hell of a team, Seresin.”

“Aww,” he coos, “You say that to all the boys, Pits.”

“Fuck off, Hangman,” you chuckle, rising to your feet and making your way over to your bed. Happy to find that the tone between you had remained unchanged by the day.

He finally relents, kicking off his shoes and placing them over by the closet once again, before he reclines back on his bed. You’re already snuggled under the covers when he flicks off the beside light - though the TV is still on mute in the background. The brightness of the screen casts his face in obscure shadows as he rolls onto his side to face you.

Propping your head up on your hand, you begin, “Okay, play it out for me, Bagman.”

You can make out the faintest shimmer of a smirk on his lips as he starts, “So, we’re looking at a full house tomorrow. There’s gonna be my brothers, Josh and Justin - ”

By the time he’s fully exhausted himself of the makeshift, seat-of-his-pants plan, you’re struggling to keep your own eyes open. With your eyelids growing heavier as you try to focus on his garbled words.

And then he stops.

“You still with me, honey?” he teases softly.

“Barely,” you mumble, face pressed into the pillow.

He sighs, and then the light disappears from the room as he turns off the TV. You can hear the faint groaning of the air conditioner coming back on.

“Get your sleep, Pita. You’re gonna need it.”

You smile, already feeling the pleasant tug of unconscious oblivion as you stretch your legs out, “You too, Bagman.”

His warm, throaty chuckle is the last thing you hear as you finally slip under

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

[concerned-wet-floor-sign-bot]

CANT WAIT TO MEET YOU!!!

SO JOIN THE ANIMATRONIC WET FLOOR SIGN BOT FAMILY!!!

WE OPEN REAL SOON!! I’D LOVE TO GREET YOU !!

SO TRY YOUR BEST TO HOLD ON TO SANITY!!!

COME GET TOO KNOW ME!!!

AND YOU WONT MIGHT WANT TO LEAVE AFTER TONIGHT!!!

DOWN HERE WE’RE IN REAL LIFE IM LONELY!!!

AND WE I WOULD LOVE YOU TOO JOIN US FOR A BITE!!! ME ON THIS HELL HOLE SITE!!!

(hell hole site is affectionately)

COME GET TO KNOW ME POST

I am not comfortable with showing my face (yet)

I’m under 16 so… ummm… y’all need to know that

you can call me: concern. Or: Ashley. Or if u want u can just @ me or give me a nickname (I would like to know if you give me a nickname so I know ur talking about me)

(If addressing the wet floor sign bot in roll play please use she/her pronouns and she’s named Ashley, please don’t use Ashley if talking to or about me/the person running this blog, im taking the name of Leah for my online name.)

My pronouns are she/her I am female and was born a female

I am an Ally and I HATE discrimination. BOOOOO RACISM! BOOOOO ANYONE WHO THINKS LGBTQIA+ PEOPLE ARE EVIL! BOOOOO SEXIST PEOPLE! EVERYONE IS HUMAN AND THAT IS GOOD ENOUGH

favorite things list!

Food: spaghetti.

color: purple.

fandom I'm in: FNAF.

FNAF character: Funtime Freddy (in very very close 2nd is mangle)

rp/ask blog I have: @ask-mangle-the-sad-one (the first one I got)

fnaf game(and yes I can have a favorite fnaf game without ever playing any of the fnaf games): rn it’s tied between fnaf 2, and fnaf Sister Location/SL.

place I can be: in my bedroom at my dads house.

time of year: the very beginning of the school year but after i get my iPad. (It’s this because the only divice I can use for tumblr is my school iPad (this means I won’t be on tumblr during summer))

season: summer (it’s the best (except for the no tumblr thing 😭))

fnaf character to draw: at the moment it’s RWQFSFAXC . (but it usually changes each day.)

way to draw: it’s tied between drawing in my sketchbook and drawing digitally on my iPad.

animal: Giraffe! Always and forever GIRAFFE🦒🦒🦒!!! (fun fact: my baby ornament (the Xmas tree ornament that my mom got for me when I was born) is a little glass white giraffe!🦒)

fnaf animatronic animal type: the FOXES!!! Always the foxes. (Another fun fact: my grandma’s favorite animal is a fox)

number: 13. (I just like the fact that people think it’s unlucky the same way I love black cats (not for the reason of people think they’re unlucky but because they’re absolutely beautiful and my black cat (her name is Emily Binx but everyone just calls her Binxy) likes sitting in the sunlight and being warm and after sitting in the sun for a few minutes she is so warm and i just want to grab her and hug her))

fnaf song: tied between:

16. Any song: tied between: blue. And: little talks.

I do both rp and just personal things. Have a list of things i do on this blog!

Art. (Pretty much just me posting the things I draw)

rp (I talk about my rp/ask blogs and i rp on this blog too)

drawing requests (do not confuse with commissions which i don’t do. I have not gotten a request yet but I will be happy if and when I do.)

give my opinion (idk it’s just my personal opinion)

exist (lol :3)

talk about fnaf (I like it)

small cosplay (I usually just make cosplay pieces and wear them when I’m alone.)

imo Star Trek is wayyy better then Star Wars. 4 the Star Trek fans: 🖖. I’m pretty sure that that means something else too but I’m doing it as the Vulcan live long and prosper thing.

I have a bunch of fnaf songs memorized including (I will also link a yt video of the song to the name)

The mangle 

Count the ways 

Count the ways 

You can’t hide 

Lights on 

Five more nights 

Below the surface 

Merry fnaf Christmas 

Join us for a bite (Wich tecnacaly I have The Living Tombstone - Join Us for a Bite Remix memorised)

Another round

We don’t bite 

stuck inside

(And yes there’s 2 songs called count the ways and I have both memorized)

I recently started cussing on my blog and in my head and when I’m alone irl.

I’m very very sorry if I don’t know what an abbreviation means, I’m kinda new to the internet so if it’s the first time you are using the abbreviation with me i suggest in (these thingys) putting what it means, it will help and reduce confusion and I thank anyone who does.

I am bad at spelling sooo… it might be a little hard to read my posts but blame autocorrect for not understanding what I’m trying to type

I’m ALWAYS accepting asks! And I’m totally cool with requests! but I might not do them.

I love to rp eaven if the game is fnaf 1 I’m always a Wet Floor Sign Bot (only on this blog though) btw my excuse is WFSB’s and staff bots are all knowing and aslo there’s a time portal in the mop closet don’t ask how it got there

I have school and bedtime so it’s fine but I do have time spans but I’m not going to bother you with it

I like love fnaf (even tho I’ve never played the games and just can’t get myself to read the books. (By now I have read the first Fazbear frights graphic novel version of the book and I am trying not read the other Fazbear frights graphic novel’s))

I have a fnaf oc named fifi

resonantly got a au blog @five-nights-at-foxys-au if u want to check it out

I’m in 7th grade so yeah

The iPad im using belongs to my school so im not going to be here in summer sadly but I will answer all my asks I get when I’m back

I have ADHD Inattentive and distractible type. I also have anxiety and apparently I have depression, I don’t believe the depression.

all my rp/ask blog’s I have

so I 1st got my mangle blog @ask-mangle-the-sad-one

then my Toy Bonnie one @ask-toy-bonnie-something

then I got my Bon-Bon blog @ask-the-handpuppet-bon-bon

then I got RWQFSFASXC because I cud @ask-rwqfsfasxc

then I got Ballora @ask-ballora-the-ballerina

Then I got my Bonnet @ask-the-handpuppet-bonnet

and glamrock mangle @ask-glamrock-mangle-in-kids-cove (this one will probably be repurposed to another character)

and Toy Freddy @ask-toy-freddy-the-peace-keeper

and Toy Chica @ask-toy-chica-and-im-not-a-mom

and BB JJ and Dee Dee @ask-the-fnaf-balloon-kids

and game Vanessa @ask-vanessa-the-security-gaurd

and Vanny @ask-vanny-the-murderes-rabbit

and Gregory (game’s only) @gregory-da-bears-cub

the blob the mimic and burntrap @the-pizzaplexs-bacement-monsters

Helpy and Helpi @the-helpful-little-bears

Phantom foxy @phantom-foxy-is-a-pirate

fredbear (not gonna spesify that) @bloody-yellow-bear

I also do a little bit of rp on my main blog and I’m pretty happy about the blogs I have rn but I’m considering making a Helpy, because he’s adorable and amazing.

if I’m on one of my other blogs I will refer to my main as Ashley. And Ashley is not my name irl. I just like it

I like making poles.

if any of my blogs are active then I’m active

I don’t care if people stalk my page or spam me, I just like interacting with people. (I’m very sorry if I spam u. i probably just don’t realize it. or I really like your blog)

I will tag the important things that people should know with: very important

and 🍍+🍕=🤢🤮/ I don’t like pineapple on pizza, I refuse to eat pizza with anything on it other then just cheese, I respect all topping choices except pineapple, fruit doesn’t belong on pizza, especially when it’s cooked, the only fruit that should be cooked is specifically when it’s in pie or something like that.

btw I keep editing this post because ether things change or I found a typo.

also there’s now more portals than the one in the mop closet by masersise and more kinds than just time portal.

current hyper fixation: fnaf 2

EVERYONE IMPORTANT NOTE!!! I WILL NOT BE ACTIVE AT ALL THROUGHOUT SUMMER ALL THE WAY TO SOMETIME IN SEPTEMBER!!! I WILL BE BACK IN SEPTEMBER AND I PROMISE I WILL LOOK AT ALL OF THE ACTIVITY, REBLOGS, COMMENTS, AND ASKS (IF I GET ANY)!!!

I will be making a post when i leave 4 the summer

Btw I resantly got absolutely obsessed with a ship I created. Ship name: shadow toy. its RWQFSFAXC x Toy Bonnie.

[sh1-n0bu]

MOMMY NOBUUUU /p i need someone wise’s advice !!!!

i like to make silly looking “art” (i don’t even consider it real art, it’s more like memes/doodles) (like the ms paint art style, that looks a bit like pixel art and also looks sketchy and simple) and i CAN’T DECIDE if i should make an account to post it??? i really want to but i know NOTHING about ig and its algorythm (even though i did use to have disney and anime fanpages with a decent amount of followers when i was, like, 14). i don’t wanna end up with an account with like 2 followers cuz what if affects my self esteem and the way i view art hsjsg ???? i like my cringy artstyle but.. idk im probably overthinking this AGHH

yk it’s just that when i was a fan account it wasn’t my art so it’s not like i got offended if people didn’t like/comment/save. with things i created it would be different i think??? i’ve been wanting to make an art account for YEARS and i just got into the artstyle (i had a “normal” artstyle before) but wait wait lemme try to link the pics

(hope they work)

so this is the first thing i’ve ever drawn in this style https://drive.google.com/file/d/1-AJt9jSnPo1Enyg4B8Dnm0HMYeFIhxYX/view?usp=drivesdk

and then it just kept going. https://drive.google.com/file/d/1-I8x_U-9_ZVwpPE6aDAWlW0ApEuJ2r5Z/view?usp=drivesdk

and going (yes that’s a gyaru trying to talk to a golfball and yes it’s a remake of this meme https://www.reddit.com/r/memes/comments/d6udnl/why_wont_it_move/)

and then i saw this. https://drive.google.com/file/d/1-1qO6MbBOo51PK-jhMltsnpfCb0yTGV2/view?usp=drivesdk

and i went “this is so hsr main trio” https://drive.google.com/file/d/1-5MwpEQLIFx_iLdif6R9o66Xc2HW5vjw/view?usp=drivesdk

this is cursed, i’m aware.

then i started making these https://drive.google.com/file/d/1-60FA9_FROx2c0SQrzh1RXOXxm7tFl5G/view?usp=drivesdk

you have NO IDEA how many of these i’ve made. because idk either. all i know is that in three days i had made 20+ of them (which may sound like it’s not much, but for me and how little i used to draw it’s a lot)

and now i REALLY want to make the account but i’m TERRIFIED bc what if no one likes that kind of cringy stuff?????

i’m literally so sorry to bother you with this /gen it’s just me overthinking stuff as always :/ don’t feel pressured to answer me ofc!! <3 also i rlly rlly hope things are going better for you! sending love and support <33

gratefully yours

breaker anon~~<3

MOMMA NOBU HAS ARISEN /j j j j

first, those arts are fucking GORJUS my sweettums. as someone who has lost the ability to draw, that is beautiful. i used to think of becoming a free style painter or to learn how to draw digital but somewhere along the way i just gave up and decided to simply settle on writing instead. even now, when i see art tiktok or recommendations of compilation videos on yt, i feel a bit of an ache in my chest. its just there, y’know?

second, i think you should do for it. maybe try opening up an account on a platform ur incredibly familiar with. perhaps tumblr? or even ig? or even tiktok works too! just any platform you feel safe and comfortable and know how to navigate is good.

and yeah, i can def say felt to the “it will make my mental health worse if i only get 2 likes or smt” bc same same same. i try to write good and capture the characters’ personality correctly while keeping the fic ‘alive’ only to end up with like,,,, hundreds of likes but no feedbacks or reposts or smt LMAOOO

as for a single tip i would give is to expect everything. not everyones going to like ur content and they will suddenly crash into ur inbox talking abt how they hated this fic or smt of yrs bc it was disgusting or not their thing. that has happened to me like,,,, 3 times???? i think?????? and and!!! be sure to do a bit of research beforehand, me thinks. see what kind of attention you would get when u start to post on ur page or account.

honestly, i started this blog as only reposting blog. but then one day my very first 🦝 anon came and i decided, why not write a thirst thought i had with friend and see how it goes? and it just spiraled from there.

main thing is, have patience and love what ur doing. don’t burn urself out over it too much or else what u used to love will end up being what u hate and take good care of yourself sweettums<3

[dokidokitsuna]

Hello I love your AU!

Could you please tell us more about Elfilis and Star Dream as well?

Well, for one thing, they're a lot harder to draw. ^^; So I will gladly accept this opportunity to talk about them now and finish my sketches later~

For another thing, I will admit that they were kind of afterthoughts for GONE (this image basically tells all the story I wanted to tell). It was hard for me to even imagine a space for them to be characters...until I tried thinking of the AU as a more casual slice-of-life thing, believe it or not. ^^;

It kinda makes sense though; for multiverse-scale rulers to take something like this in stride, to be totally comfortable taking breaks to chat and get to know each other in between murder attempts. ^^ To be honest, it's almost creepier this way...for someone to ask how you've been before ripping your head off your neck...really adds to the 'inhuman' vibe of this AU in particular.

Fecto Elfilis: Probably the most sympathetic of the three, despite also being the most brutal (in a way, I feel a capacity for kindness and a capacity for cruelty are two sides of the same coin). They kinda understand what the Master Crown is going through, since they also have a nagging 'weakness' living inside of them at all times, in the form of Elfilin. ^^ You'll see what that looks like later. ;)

Of course, they have the advantage of knowing with certainty that Elfilin is real, most likely permanent, and has feelings they can hurt (their basic dynamic is that Elfilin begs them not to do something bad, and F/E does something 10x worse just to spite him). Unfortunately, this comes with the disadvantage of having to fight with him all the time, and the constant stress and aggravation that results. ^^; Like, imagine you had a sort of sentient autoimmune disease that flared up AND psychically argued with you every time you wanted to do something fun...it's a special kind of hell, tbh, and I like to think that Elfilin knows that~.

Anyway, despite all of that, F/E is usually pretty cool and self-confident, personality-wise. They have zero respect for either of their opponents, and they get a cathartic kick out of watching the Crown have a mental breakdown and mocking it for it...even though they secretly feel the same way very often, and very deep down.

Star Dream: It thinks of itself as a benevolent god, the savior of the universe...and whether or not that idea is a half-truth or a complete delusion honestly depends on your perspective.

They ARE the only one of the three who's actually concerned with building civilizations instead of destroying them (F/E) or treating them like toys (MC). They also have the intrinsic ability to read people's dreams and grant their wishes, an ability they use to keep their colossal hivemind happy. But is this a 'real' happiness, or a sort of 'brainwashed' happiness? Does it really free people's souls from their imperfect flesh-prisons, or does it simply remake them into a sanitized ideal...?

I think it would be interesting if it offered to mechanize the Master Crown in order to relieve its suffering (which would totally count as proving dominance)...even though it's kind of its fault that MC started losing its mind in the first place. ^^;;; The 'itch' starts when it has a small but unexpected reaction to seeing Susie's face, and becomes exponentially worse when SD admits that the form it's in is something it saw in the MC's dreams. But y'know, what better way to convince MC to have its mind digitized and have the 'weaknesses' deleted than to show it exactly what it's afraid of? ^^

In case it's not obvious, Star Dream has a very 'pleasant' and calm personality-- by now, it's learned that it's faster and easier to convert people with """"kindness""" than threats of annihilation. Of course, it doesn't like being told 'no' (you could argue that it doesn't really see any viewpoint other than its own as valid) and really doesn't like entities that can challenge it, especially "repulsive" flesh-creatures like Fecto Elfilis. ^^ If there's any potential for dark comedy in this AU, it's in the dynamic between those two~

[wweeird]

eyyy how'd you get so good at drawing

but no for real, how you draw portraits is amazing. I adore the way you're able to suggest things without actually defining features super well. Being able to do that clearly shows mastery in knowing how to draw people's faces and that is very impressive. I can tell you've done a lot of work to get to this skill level!

But seriously, can we the people get some tips on how to get to this level? Any tips? Thanks so much! Keep on creating!

hey, thank you so much! I love drawing people and hearing such words is the most pleasant thing ever… As it happens, I’ve been thinking on that issue for some time already (not on getting better at drawing peoples’ faces particularly but on how to increase all drawing skills in general) and I’m not really sure that I’ve got a decent answer right now (but I think that you can somehow read others’ minds, heh)

things that I’ve already figured out:

your perfectionism is your worst enemy. You don’t have to draw all those faces in detail, it’s not even interesting to do sometimes — all that you need is an energy burst, a f e e l i n g that you can transmit to others through drawings and through the process of drawing itself. It means that you need to focus only on the things that are important in that particular moment  — it could be arms that you’re going to neglect at that point, at another point you will harshly draw the eyes and only vaguely outline the mouth. 

never stop experimenting. It’s the most important and at the same time probably the most cliché thing to say (if we don’t count ‘practice more’). You always need to be in the state of search for something more. My last discovery was that there are plenty of different ways to hold a pencil, not just how we’ve been taught at school. When you change the position of your arm your point of view is also changing. This kind of stress makes you feel really uncomfortable at first but then you find yourself ready to find other ways to solve these problems (btw, I suppose this method won’t work with a stylus  for digital tablets although I’ve never tried) 2.1 live sketching (when you draw not from your head or photos but from real people/things you see around you) is actually very good — people are usually very agile (of course they are — they’re alive), they won’t keep one pose for ages so you’ll have probably 2-5 minutes to make a sketch, which is perfectly enough to kill your perfectionism and widen your drawing comfort zone at the same time. (be careful in cafes! people tend to be suspicious when you take out your sketchbook or, for example, glasses, in my case) It’s also helpful for studying perspective. If you can’t help but use references, try using a timer. There’s a cool website where you can practice sketching poses and where you only have a few minutes for each pose (something like quick-poses-dot-com)

observe more things/people around you, as well as other artists’ works, that goes without saying;

practice more (: I’m sorry I know that’s a bit annoying but it’s true. Don’t think that somehow you can be transported in the state when all your drawings are incredibly beautiful (unique and exquisite, as insta-scammers would say) — that doesn’t happen. You’ll always have a ratio: some shitty paintings to one-two decent or beautiful ones. The percentage of drawings-you-wish-you’ve-never-drawn will get lower, but won’t totally disappear, at least I don’t think so. So no need to be afraid, accept the possibility of never-ending mistakes and just do your thing, keep at it. There are plenty of reasons to draw in life.

phew, I hope I was at least a little bit helpful! still trying to comprehend all of this myself. and thank you and thank you again!

[bluravenite]

Hi! So I just got an iPad and Apple Pencil to start drawing with and I was wondering if you had any advice for someone just starting out? I just love your art so much. It can be about just drawing in general or drawing digitally. I've got Procreate on my iPad. Thank you for your time.

Oh hi!! I'd love to help! I've been drawing digitally for about 7+ years now but only started using procreate in August! Art is about continuous improvement!

I'll try to go as in depth as i can below the cut ⬇️⬇️

I would also like to make it clear that i am a mainly self taught artist with no formal art education!! So anything i say pertains to my OWN experience learning and what has personally helped me!! But it may be different for you depending on your level!

(this is a very long post sorry for ranting so much lol i just want to make sure you can actually take away some good lessons from this!!)

At first it was very confusing and frustrating because i was used to Clip Studio with a drawing tablet on my laptop, but what helped me get comfortable was doing lots of studies at first, nothing serious just kinda going through each brush, playing around a lot, drawing portraits of people and doing some life drawing exercises!

These are some of my first procreate drawings i did!! They were portrait studies where i was trying to get a feel for the program.

I do recommend doing lots of studies as soon as you can, do a mixture between drawing for your own personal amusement and also more serious studies, but mainly what has helped me is getting into a hyper fixation (lol it's funny but it's true)

The key to familiarity and improvement is consistency, draw A LOT!! Take notes every time you do something you think needs improvement then note it down and then practice that! but don't lock yourself into trying to be good at one thing only, If something is stressing you out, just leave it and work on something else.

As for drawing in general, it depends on what you want to improve.

I recommend if you want to improve on anatomy, what has helped me a lot is using resources online to practice how you would inside a classroom.

Watch videos on gesture and figure drawing, and google websites that give you life drawing poses (dm me if you need i can share some resources I've used before!) And then try to learn how to do that.

That's what's helped me most with poses, using a combination of gestural and structural drawing

However when it comes to anatomy, that gets more complicated, looking at real human bodies helps a lot, but you also don't need to study and memorize the 7000000th muscles of the body and how they attach to each bone. However, ART IS ABOUT OBSERVATION!!!

Look at yourself in the mirror and make note of how your body moves!! How do your muscles pull and stretch your chest when you lift your arm up? How does your body accomodate the extra skin on top of your shoulder when it's moved up? How does your ribcage stretch and your skin bunch up when you stretch your torso to one side? When you are sitting down how does your body accomodate? Looking at all these things taught me a lot more than trying to memorize the scientific name for the 3rd ribcage muscle that I've never had to name lmao, learning however the GROUPS of muscles can help!! Especially when drawing buff men 🥹👍 they have like 7 different muscle groups in the torso lmao, AND LETS NOT TALK ABOUT THE BACK MUSCLES CUZ DEAR GOD I HAVEN'T EVEN GOTTEN THAT FAR YET IT SCARES ME🧍🫶

I am also currently trying study more my value distillation when drawing (see picture), that's something i struggle a lot with when working with light and shadow!! So I'm trying to get better at it, (a good YouTube search on value distillation) will give you a good idea of what i mean.

There are very many good resources out there but i will say this!!!

Don't oversaturate yourself with knowledge because it will stress you out when you know all these academic terms and cannot apply them into your work.

Watching one video will give you some information on how a technique works, you can then rewatch it and try to work along with it, and then practice it a couple more times on your own, but don't expect to be good at it, or understand it immediately.

Drawing is about continuous improvement and you never really should stop learning and experimenting.

PLEASE!! if you ever need help with anything!! Do not hesitate to ask other artists!!

@coreyvoss has helped me figure out a couple things and i am sure neither he or i are opposed to trying to help you out finding some resources if you need! I am eternally grateful for Corey's expertise and encouragement!!

I am very proud of you for already taking initiative to want to learn and engage with the community, i am really honored to know that you like my work, it's the only thing i could ever ask for, and i wish you the best of luck in this journey!!! Digital art is a great tool for artists, but remember, you make the art not the other way around💖🫶

Sorry I'd there's any grammar mistakes, I wasn't expecting such a long post but i genuinely do hope you are able to take something helpful from it.

[flaringfoxsoul03]

Hello I was wondering if I could get a twst romantic matchup? I’d also love if you could put me in a twst dorm however you don’t have to!

I’m bisexual with she/her pronouns.

For personality I’m creative, introverted, and individualistic and structured. Though I’m introverted, around my friends/comfortable places I can be quite talkative, humorous and outgoing. However I definitely treasure my alone time the most.

As for hobbies escaping to new worlds while reading books/comics, watching movies, and playing rpg video games. My favorite genres are fantasy and sci-fi, though I do love a good classic from time to time. Apart from that, I love working out.

My interests on the other hand are art/tech focused. I’m currently in art school working with mostly digital mediums, though I sometimes work with traditional. I love my practice and everything from interaction/game design to visual effects and web design. Sometimes I’ll bring out the graphite and ink. Once I get started on an idea there’s no stopping me.

Random Likes: coffee, chai tea, dark chocolate, rock/blues/jazz/soundtrack music, cafe art shows, arcades, comic book stores, purple, thai/Indian/Chinese food, roller blading to classic rock, quality alone time

Random Dislikes: people i am unfamiliar with and have to make small talk with, the biting cold, rain, non fiction, staying too close to reality and not being allowed to daydream/imagine/roam freely in my thoughts, too much physical touch, overly crowded areas

Thank You!

Hell yeah I could put you into a dorm! I don’t see why not, your form default however will be like Ace and Deuce; normal human features only. Other than owning some magic (no special move will be mentioned), I’ll place you into a dorm like that. Ramshackle will be out of the picture for obvious reasons. And with that, let’s get to the match~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I match you with…

Idia Shroud!

——————————

Look, you literally gave me this match on a silver platter. Better yet, might as well be in the Ignihyde because not only will you be more likely to run into the recluse, you get to practice on your special talents most and improve your styles! Plus, earning a secret admirer from afar isn’t so bad, especially if it’s your dorm’s House Warden!

It was painful trying to meet Idia for the first time in person. The man’s so shy! He’s absolutely terrified of any type of public speaking and can’t get what needs his physical appearance this time when he can send Ortho or his tablet. But he bumps into to you being too focused on his whirling thoughts and oh boy, both of you are a mess. Yet, it’s a beautiful mess, he scatters your papers of art which causes a colorful explosion. In the midst of the chaos, you both make eye contact. Out of every romance manga Idia’s ever read, he’s bushing to match your hues on your cheeks! You whisper quietly as to not draw more attention than necessary to ask him if he’s okay, he can only nod his head as he’s too stunned and terrified of his voice to speak. You look around, lighting up brighter than any screen could illuminate, your eyes sparking with a flavorful idea as you whip out a small note pad and pull a pen tucked behind your ear as you jot your little mental creation down as to not forget it. Idia is truly and utterly lost, but he doesn’t hate that he accidentally made a fool of himself in front of you. He notices his dorm’s crest on your blazer and keeps a mental note of your facial features for later cross referencing to find you in his systems. This would not be the last ‘accidental’ meet up with your House Warden as you quickly explain your haste and gather up the papers as he aided along side out of automatic reflexes. Ortho came to scold him for being late but only saw his older brother on his knees looking utterly and completely out of this world

Is beyond ecstatic when he ‘bumps’ into you again, but still far too nervous to talk to you about any real conversation. His saving grace is that you show him the mobile game you’re playing that happens to be a very exciting RPG that got fully released at the beginning of the year. You had heard in passing that your House Warden was a gamer to the core, so you thought of the flames for hair boy who had helped you break your Artist’s Block. It must be him, so you thought you’d indulge him and the dam broke so wide, you thought you accidentally opened the gamer’s encyclopedia for the game! He stopped midway to apologize for rambling, but then you asked him what a certain term meant as you couldn’t help but notice he abbreviated something. This was the start of your paths intertwining indefinitely as time could tell

Respects your level of intelligence in your areas of expertise while you respect his own mad skills in the technology department. He even helped animate your art to life for little short videos, which turned into a contest of who was blushing more with all the videos you two ended up making together

Definitely appreciates that you’re more of an introvert, he would probably set you on fire with his hair more often than not if you were more extroverted. He likes that he doesn’t always have to spend all his time with you because he’s also just too exhausted by socializing sometimes and he needs a break from everyone. Not that he doesn’t love you or anything, he’s just unable to be around anyone because his social battery is immensely drained compared to everyone else

I think one surprise I think you could have Idia be truly caught off guard is jazz music. More specifically, him liking jazz music in the end after you first introduced it to him in one of your playlists. Sure he hears something similar to when he’s with Azul Ashengrotto when he meets with him for club activities in the Monstro Lounge when it’s devoid of people, but not the way you’ve shown him. He may accidentally info dump you on how jazz came to be in Twisted Wonderland, but I have a feeling you’d appreciate him telling you a little history lesson about it anyways

===================

And the follow ups are:

Azul Ashengrotto

And

Vil Schoenheit

===================

And that’s all folks! Sorry it took so long! I had Writer’s Block!

~Fox

[mikoriin]

I want to dissappear from the internet but I also want to start selling commissions for a little back-up-plan money for Reasons... idknoww what to do 😔

thats rough im sorry :((( the internet can be a very stressful place with....literally everything going on all the time haha but i think whats important to do to curate your own online experience is to:

use the sites u actually like and prefer. i use tumblr primarily because i can manage my social media experience the way i want to.

shape your page/timeline/feed/dash into what you want. unfollow people who dont post things you like or even want to see, block people freely even if u just dont agree with something they said in their post or for just rubbing you the wrong way. you control your experience and if you dont like what youre seeing and not enjoying yourself, then u can always find something new or get rid of the things u dont want to see. for me, i dont like using twitter because its got a lot of weirdos on it and then some and i dont like seeing every horrible political event going on at all times. not because i dont care, but because its so much all the time that it gets so draining and overwhelming. with sites like tumblr, you cant necessarily avoid it depending on how big or impactful the news is (i mean ofc, we're a social media site after all) but at least if u dont like seeing a bunch of real world events that upset you then u can always block those tags or posts or unfollow the people who put it on your dash.

remember that the internet is a place to escape. yes it is a place to store information and knowledge, but it is also full of so many wonderous dangers because it is so vast. dont take it too seriously, dont get too invested in things that are out of your control, and i honestly dont think its healthy to be chronically online either. so just remember, be safe, be mindful, and have fun.

if u wanna start some commissions i also have some advice for u there!!

keep posting your content! and make sure you tag it! exposure is the BEST way to get traction and attention.

keep your commission sheet pinned to your blog. its good that its the first thing people see when they visit your page

DO NOT underprice your work!! do not do not!! u are creating something from your mind with your hands and your creativity alone, your art is special and unique no matter your skill level! never charge under $20 for even your most simple art. (ik ik my kofi comms are only $9-$12 but thats different i have a job that brings in steady money haha...and i also am a hypocrite that doesnt value my art enough) but i am SO SERIOUS when i say that every art piece is worth so much! if $15 or $10 makes you more comfortable to charge people then i encourage it, just as long as you dont go below double digits and are getting some money in!

if your commissions are lower than say...$30 or $40 then make sure you get them done in a timely manner. i know im DEFINITELY not one to talk about being quick on commissions, im so slow, but i try to get smaller pieces done first. i dont go by first come first serve, i do what it easiest to me in the moment because i have horrible time management skills thanks adhd but really just do whatever works for u! but from a money and business standpoint, i would try to get the smaller pieces done as fast as you can. bigger pieces have more leeway to take longer.

HAVE BOUNDARIES WITH UR CUSTOMERS! if you are uncomfortable drawing something, say so. decline the commission. its not worth the money if u are bothered by the content, you clearly dont want to make it therefore the art wont be satisfying to you anyway because your hearts not on it. also its better for your mental health. if a customer is being too friendly or too comfortable for you, make sure you keep it business. let them know it is just business. you do not owe anyone your friendship just because theyre giving you money. theyre paying for a service, its just as an other transaction at the store. if they are asking you to draw something youve already stated in a commission sheet that you wont draw, block them. they clearly dont know how to read or respect your boundaries because they asked you for a service you already stated you could not provide. not a good customer, move on.

uhhh i cant rly think of anything else at the moment but i hope this helps!! this has gotten pretty long so ill leave it at this, but also if you genuinely just wanna take a break from the internet to live life and decompress from it all, i say go ahead. do you. do what makes you happy.

[outeremissary]

9 People You Want to Know Better

Tagged by @arendaes, thanks :)

Three Ships

I feel like I always list the same stuff on this section, haha. Same time, I can't really seem to think of anything better right now when I'm trying. Maybe it's just my energy tonight. Uh, I can just list what I consider my main pairs in the last three games with romances I've played...? I guess?

Balthazar + Tristian. Or also with Vio. Doodling them a lot lately... I miss them.

Carmen + Arushalae. There's a Galfrey situation that intersects with this as well but I think living with someone goes a long way towards winning a love triangle. Whatever the hell winning means here. Tbh everyone loses

Asperia/Kasander + unfortunately, that archduke I really do want dead for real. Once wasn't enough.

Last Song

Catch Me If You Can - Jhariah (Spotify). Someone I drew something for on Art Fight had this listed as a character theme, so I've been looping it a lot... it's really good. I really should listen to more of Jhariah's music.

Last Movie

Hm. I.... don't know? I haven't been watching a lot of movies. I wanted to see I Saw the TV Glow, but before I knew it had left theaters. I'd like to watch movies again, I think.

Currently Reading

When I remember that I should be reading, Wuthering Heights. I've actually never read it before. I got bored halfway through Jane Eyre when I was 13 and lost all interest in gothic romances after that. ^^;;

Currently Watching

Akuma-kun! The 2023 one on Netflix. It's the show my friend and I are watching together right now. He insisted I had to watch it because it had an evil angel... we saw the angel today!! I'm happy. Homoerotic, fourteen year old fujoshi Emi would have totally lost it for this.

Currently Eating

Nothing. Getting hungry again though.

Currently Craving

I dunno... something fried? In the abstract, a little more self assurance.

Favorite Color

Blue. Deep blue. I've always been fond of the Copenhagen blue that I've used for Caina's scarf and one of Balthazar's coats, and the indigo I do a lot of my lines with.

Favorite Flavor

Chocolate.

Current Obsession

Anxiously checking the Art Fight website tbh. It's not good for me. I just keep getting worried that I've somehow made art that someone really hates of their character, or that I'm putting a lot into projects that no one will ever see. Haha.

Last Thing I Googled

.... well, now that we're at this point in this, it's Copenhagen blue. Because I wanted to check if it was a real name ^^;;

Favorite Season

Fall. It's got the best temperatures and most consistent weather. I like when the leaves change as well. The dry leaves on the ground are really comforting.... they make good sounds and are nice to lay in.

Skill I'd Like to Learn

Painting. Watercolors, ideally. Or digital art.

Best Advice

Jeez, I don't know a lot of life advice. I guess the best art advice I know is "draw whatever makes you want to keep drawing." Recently an artist I really respect also said something like "when you're starting out, just go ahead and copy whatever you like. Don't trace because you'll learn slower, but if there's something you like, try your best to imitate it." I think that can be good advice too. I guess my personal advice is also "Just do it however you know you can get it done." I used to get really hung up on doing things the "right" way in order to finish them, and because it took so long and I felt so pressured on the later steps I never finished anything. I hardly ever got to what I considered the halfway mark then. It didn't make me feel good about what I was doing. So I started doing things messier and more haphazard, whatever would get to the end I wanted to reach fastest. And I think I grew a lot more like that. I definitely drew a lot more art I was proud of and happy to show other people. I guess that also loops around to advice I've heard somewhere else though ^^;; Just to do the parts of the process that you want to finish. Your sketch can be your final lines if you hate doing line art, who cares. You can learn a way to do it like that.

We've hit the limit of how many times I can tag people on posts in a day without feeling very anxious unfortunately, so if anyone wants to be my guest etc. but I don't have it in me right now ^^;;

[sineala]

How would you say fandom culture has changed over the years? What are some differences you notice between older and younger fandom folks?

I’ve been thinking for a while about how to answer this, and I’m not sure I have a really good answer, but I’m going to try.

I’ve been in fandom since approximately 1995. Maybe 1994. At that point, the world wide web was a relatively new part of the internet, and the fandoms I was in had most of their activity on privately-hosted mailing lists (predating eGroups/OneList/Yahoo Groups) and on Usenet newsgroups, with fiction beginning to be available on websites as part of either fandom-specific or pairing-specific archives as well as authors’ individual pages. Fanfiction.net did not yet exist. LiveJournal did not exist. AO3 definitely did not exist. If you wanted real-time chat, there was IRC. I was coming in basically at the tail end of zine fandom; zines were no longer the only way of distributing fanfiction, as fandom started to move online. So I have a selection of zines from 90s-era Western media fandoms but even by then zines weren’t where I was doing most of my reading.

I think in terms of generally “what it was like to be in fandom,” the big-picture stuff hasn’t changed. Fandom still produces creative fanwork and likes to, y’know, get together and talk about fandom. Also, almost every fight or complaint that fandom has about something is a thing that has been going on for actual years. People complain that, say, the kudos button is ruining comment culture because back in the LJ days the only way you could comment on a story was, well, by leaving an actual comment, or sending an email on a mailing list, and this might mean that people who would have otherwise commented have left a kudos instead. But back in the LJ and mailing list days, people were complaining that commenting was going downhill since the days of zines, when in order to comment on a story you had to write a real paper letter and mail it and because you had to do that, the quality of feedback was so much better than you got nowadays because people could just dash off a quick email or comment. You get the idea. Top/bottom wars are not new either. Pairing wars are not new. If you’ve been in fandom a while, you will pretty much have seen all the fights already. I think one thing that is new, though, is the fandom awareness of things like privilege and intersectionality and various -isms, as well as things like “providing warnings might be nice” (do you know how much unwarned deathfic I have read? a lot!) and I sure won’t say we’re perfect at any of this now, but I think fandom is trying way way more about all that stuff than it used to.

There are some fights we actually don’t have anymore, as far as I can tell. I feel like it’s been years since I’ve seen the “real person fiction is wrong” battle, but also I don’t hang out in a whole lot of RPF fandoms, so it’s possible that’s still going and I just don’t see it.

There also used to be a recurring debate about whether gay relationships that were canonical were slash or not. When slash started, obviously this wasn’t a question because there weren’t canonical gay relationships in fandoms, period. But as gay characters began to appear in media, people started to wonder “does slash mean all same-sex relationships, or does slash mean only non-canonical same-sex relationships?” Now, you may be reading this and think that sounds like an incredibly weird thing to get hung up on, but that’s because what appears to have happened is that the term “ship” (originally from X-Files Mulder/Scully fandom) has, as far as I can tell, come up and eaten most of the rest of the terminology. Now people will just say, “oh, I ship that.” For any pairing, gay or not, canonical or not. Fandom seems to have decided that for the most part it no longer actually needs a term specific to same-sex relationships as a genre.

Similarly, there are a few genres of fic that we used to have also pretty much don’t exist anymore. There are also plenty of genres that are well-entrenched now that are also extremely recent -- A/B/O comes to mind. But there are some kinds of fic we don’t write a lot of now. Like, I haven’t seen smarm in years! I also haven’t seen We’re Not Gay We Just Love Each Other in a while. There was also a particular style of slash writing where you’d basically have to explain, in detail, what made you think that these particular characters could be anything other than straight. You’d have to motivate this decision. You’d have to look at their canonical heterosexual relationships and come up with a way to explain why all those had happened in order to reconcile how this one guy could have romantic feelings for another guy. When had he figured out he wasn’t straight? Who might he have been with before? How does he interact with people in ways that make you think he’s not straight? That kind of thing. You had to, essentially, show your work. And these days a lot of fanfic is just like, “Okay, Captain America is bisexual, let’s go!” It’s... different.

Fandom also used to skew older, is my sense. A lot older. I don’t know, actually, if it really was older, but I get the sense now that there are some younger people who are surprised that adults are still in fandom. I have seen people saying these days that they think they’re too old for fanfiction because they are not in middle school anymore. And I think a lot of this has to do with the fact that the barriers to access fandom are a lot lower than they used to be. You used to basically have to be an adult with disposable income (or know an adult with disposable income who was willing to help you out; but even then if you were reading explicit fiction you also had to swear you were 18+, usually by sending in an age statement to whoever you were buying the zine from or to the mods of the list you wanted to join, so a lot of fandom was very much age-gated). Internet access was not widely available. Even if you had internet access, you maybe didn’t have your own email address, so you couldn’t sign up for mailing lists; free email providers didn’t exist. If you wanted to buy zines, you had to have money to buy them. If you wanted to go to cons, you had to be able to afford the cost of the con, travel to the con, et cetera. If you wanted to have a website you had to know HTML. Social media did not exist. You want to draw art? Guess what, you’re probably drawing it on paper! You might be able to upload a picture to your website if you have a digital camera or a scanner, but both of those things are expensive, and also a lot of people don’t have the capability or the money to download pictures from the internet (some people have data caps with overage charges, and some people have text-only connections!), so they won’t get to see it. Maybe you can sell your piece at a con! You want to make a fanvid? We called them songvids, but, anyway, you know how you’re doing that? You’re going to hook two VCRs together and smash the play and record buttons very fast! If you want anyone else to watch them, you are either making them a tape personally and mailing it to them or bringing your vids to a convention. Maybe you can digitize them and upload them, but it’s going to take people hours to download them!

(Every three hours my ISP would kick me off the internet and I’d have to dial in again. If it was a busy time of day, it might take me 20 or 30 minutes to get a connection again. And that was assuming no one else in the house needed to use the phone line. Imagine if your modem went out every three hours now.)

And now, for the cost of my internet connection, I can read pretty much whatever fanfiction I want, whenever I want it. I can see all the fanart I want! I can watch vids! Podfic exists now! Fanmixes exist! Gifsets and moodboards exist! If I want to write fic I can write it with programs that are completely free, and as soon as I post it everyone in the entire world can read it. If I want to draw or make vids that may require some additional investment, but I may also be able to do it with things I already have. Do you have any idea how good we all have it?

There are a couple of kinds of fan activity that don’t seem to exist anymore, though, and I miss them. I know that roleplaying still goes on, but I feel like these days most people who do real-time text roleplay have switched to things like Discord. I know that in the LJ days, RP communities were popular. But I really miss MU*s (MUDs, MUSHes, MOOs, MUXes..), which were servers for real-time text-based RP with a bunch of... hmm... features to aid RP. There were virtual rooms with text descriptions, and objects in virtual rooms with descriptions, and your character had a description, and they could interact with the objects as well as with other characters, and you could program things to change descriptions or emit various kinds of text or take you to different rooms, and so on. Just to, y’know, enhance the atmosphere. It was fun and it was where I learned to RP and I’m sad they’re pretty much gone now.

I also don’t think I see a lot of fanfiction awards in fandoms. Wonder where they went.

Going back to the previous point, the barriers to actually consuming the canon you are fannish about are way, way, way lower now. You can pretty much take it for granted that if right now someone tells you about a shiny new fandom, there will be a way to read that book or watch that show or movie right now. Possibly for free! Of course you can watch it! Why wouldn’t you be able to?

This was absolutely, absolutely not the case before. I’m currently in Marvel Comics fandom. If there is a comic I want to read, I can read it right now on the internet. I have subscribed to Marvel Unlimited and I can read pretty much every comic that is older than three months old; the newer ones cost extra money. But I can do it all from the comfort of my own home right now. I was also, actually, in Marvel Comics fandom in the nineties. If I wanted to read a comic, I had to go to a comic book store and hope they had it in stock; if they didn’t, I had to try another store. Not a lot of comics were available in trade paperback and they definitely weren’t readable on the internet. I used to read a lot of Gambit h/c fic set after Uncanny X-Men #350. I never found a copy of UXM #350. I still haven’t! But I did eventually read it on Unlimited.

Being in TV show fandoms also had similar challenges. Was the show you were watching still on the air? No? Then you’d better hope you could find it in reruns, or know someone who had tapes of it that they could copy for you, otherwise you weren’t watching that show. It was, I think, pretty common for people to be in fandoms for shows they hadn’t seen, because they had no way to see the show, but they loved all the fanfic. The Sentinel had a whole lot of fans like that, both because I think it took a while for it to end up in reruns and because overseas distribution was probably poor. So you’d get people who read the fic and wrote fic based on the other fic they’d read, which meant that you got massive, massive amounts of fanon appearing that people just assumed was in the show because it was a weirdly specific detail that appeared in someone’s fic once. Like “Jim and Blair’s apartment has a small water heater” (not actually canonical) or “Blair is a vegetarian” (there’s an episode where his mother visits and IIRC cooks him one of his favorite meals, which is beef tongue).

Like, I was in The Professionals fandom for years. I read all the fic. I hadn’t seen the show. As far as I know, it never aired in the US, and it certainly never had any kind of US VHS or DVD release. I’d seen a couple songvids. I eventually saw a couple episodes in maybe 2003, and that was because my dad special-ordered a commercial VHS tape from the UK and paid someone to convert it from PAL to NTSC. I didn’t get to see the whole show until several years later when I got a region-free DVD player someone in fandom sent me burned copies of the UK DVD releases and then I special-ordered the commercial release of the DVDs from the UK myself. But if I were a new fan and wanted to watch Pros right now? It is on YouTube! For free!

I think also one of the things about fandom that’s not immediately evident to new fans is the way in which it is permanent and/or impermanent. There are probably people whose first fannish experience is on Tumblr or who only read fanfic on FFN and who have no idea what they would do if either site, say, just shut down. But if you’ve been in fandom a while, you’ve been through, say, Discord, Tumblr, Twitter, Pillowfort, Imzy, DW, JournalFen, LJ, GeoCities, IRC, mailing lists. And sure, if Tumblr closed, it would be inconvenient. But fandom would pack up and move somewhere else. You would find it again. It would, eventually, be okay. Similarly, if you’ve been in a lot of fandoms, if you’ve made a lot of friends, drifting through fandoms is like that. You’ll make a friend in 1998 because you were in the same fandom, and then you might go your own ways, and ten years later you might be in another fandom with them again! It happens.

But the flip side of that is that I think a lot of older fans have learned not to trust in the permanence of any particular site. If you like a story, you save it as soon as you read it. If you like a piece of art, you save it. If you like a vid, you save it. Because you don’t know when the site it’s on will be gone for good. I have, like, twenty years of lovingly-curated fanfic. And I feel like people who have only been in fandom since AO3 existed might not understand how much AO3 is a game-changer compared to what we had before. It’s a site where you can put your fic up and you don’t have to worry that the webhost is going out of business, or that the site might delete your work because they don’t allow gay fiction or explicit fiction or fiction written in second person or fiction for fandoms where the creator doesn’t like fanfiction, or whatever. Because all of those things have absolutely happened. But, I mean, I still save pretty much everything I like, even on AO3, just in case.

So, basically, yeah, fandom is a whole lot more accessible than it used to be. I think fandom is pretty much still fandom, but it’s a lot easier to get into, and that has made it way more open to people who wouldn’t have been able to be in fandom before. There is so, so much more now than there ever was before, and I think that’s great.

[ransprang]

Hii, I’d love a SFW and NSFW JJBA romantic matchup :)) All parts pleasee, all genders. I go by she/her, im bi, demi, an ENFP, and a Gemini. My top love languages are physical touch and quality time.

I love making digital art, playing minecraft and terraria, making bad jokes, kitties, and spending time with my people.

Im passionate, energetic, and curious but I have bouts of depression and anxiety. When I get upset my mood can change real fast, but I make an effort to be open and honest with peers.

Im also really into romantic sex (dislike hookups) and even bigger into big sweethearts, and I like to take things slow, but once Im comfortable Im horny 💀💀💀

hiii thank you for the request!! you gave us war flashbacks to when the 3 of us used to play terraria for 10 hours a day for a month. we were so addicted to that game lol

anyways we hope you like your match up with.................

JOSUKE!!!!

SFW

You both would meet at school or university. The two of you would be very loud in class, which would make him comfortable to talk to you and befriend you. Since y'all are energetic you guys hang out a ton, which eventually leads to the romance.

He may not be good at gaming, but Josuke would play minecraft and terraria with you. He enjoys building houses and killing npcs with you in the games. After he bullies Shigechi for money, he spends some of that money to buy you both more games to play.

He's such a cutie he'd bring home homeless cats (maybe even people) for sure. He'd bring the injured ones especially and frantically google how to help them. While his intentions are pure, you'll have to make sure he doesn't accidentally hurt them more.

It's alright if you make bad jokes. The more you hang out with Josuke and Okuyasu their senses of humor with rub off on you and make your jokes worse!

He isn't a smart cookie, but he eventually learns how to tell if you're depressed or anxious. He gives you a lot of cuddles and kisses and whatever else you need to make you feel better.

n/sfw under cut

N/SFW

Josuke is the same as you! He hates hookups and believes in romantic sex. He thinks it's something he can only share with an s/o

Good thing you're both energetic, this boy has been single for so long that he is HELLA horny by the time you both date. You both go at it like rabbits. Morning sex? Night sex? His dick can get up for you at anytime and anyday.

He likes it when you draw digital art of his big voluptuous ass

You're allowed to grab his ass in public, but not in front of his friends.

your hooker,

admin sar

[autodiscothings]

Soignee’s Art Tips That May Help You Or Might Not, Who Knows.

Draw the hyperfixation, stay (mostly) in the comfort zone. Art is a skill you will get better at the more you do, so if you’re having fun drawing- you’ll level up without thinking too hard about it. 

That said: force yourself to face your art nemesis once in a while. No, not in the Turner/Constable way, but push yourself to do the background, the harder perspective, the new technique. If you’re in the [C O M F O R T zone] anyway then it’ll be easier, yeah?

Draw from life occasionally- not all the time, but to remind yourself how you do it. It really does something in your brain, you’ll get the hang of transcribing an idea faster, and of course training your hand to draw what’s there. 

You will learn something new with each painting, and FINISHING a thing. So keep the WIP pile to a minimum. (We get bored of our content faster than most.)

If you like using digital “painterly” mediums like oil and acrylic and inks, it really helps to have the real stuff on hand to play with from time to time. 

Ideas are always perfect in your head, but will sometimes be a sad kazoo noise in concept. So get them out faster, and don’t stew for too long. 

“Fuck it, done” is a thing to trust.

Even if it doesn't work out, ideas are pretty cheap. You’ll keep on getting them the more art you do, so get it out. 

Thumbnails are a good habit to have if you want to tweak a concept, or aren’t 100% sure on something. I don’t do them as much as I would like, but whenever I do it makes the world of difference to the final thing.

Keep references to hand, and keep on looking at them, and use more than one/combine them. VizRef is God Tier for Procreate users. Clip Studio has an excellent model maker, too. 

 For paid work, source/buy legitimate references that aren't fashion magazine stills for Pinterest/tumblr finds.

Reference your own art constantly if you regularly draw the same characters, so you’re consistent about it. Look, if Jim Davis has to google what Garfield looks like when he’s working, so can you. Saying that, they will change over time- mostly as your skill is improving.

Not every sketch has to be shown, but not everything uploaded to social media should be a “ a sketch, IDK” when you spent a literal day on it. Don’t undervalue your work.

If you do other creative things, understand that yes they all feed off each other, but. You only have so many hours a day, and focusing on a skill for improvement takes more time than you think. Spinning a lot of creative plates will consume your energy often in subtle, demanding ways. (If it’s just a hobby to you, don’t stress about this. Just draw when you feel like it.)

Have a Not Thinking hobby alongside your art. Gardening, jam-making, running, birdwatching, wool spinning, macrame, scrapbooking, whatever. It will vary with what you think Not Thinking is, but while you’re doing something else, the occasional idea will come, like an idea in the shower usually does. 

That’s not the goal for Not Thinking hobbies, though; mostly it’s nice to give your brain something to do when you’re stuck in a block or anxious about your art, and you will feel accomplished doing something else. 

Art block is like wading through hip-deep mud, and is bloody tiring. Do not suffer; when it gets that level, rest. Do the Not Thinking hobby. Consume books, shows, ideas.

There’s a plague on at the moment, a lot of us are doing the above. Please don’t feel ashamed about surviving. 

What you consume daily- art, media, video games, tumblr feed, TV, film, books, discords- and your home environment will shape your art, so be mindful what that is. It will also help with art block if you change something up.   

Just because it’s fanart, doesn’t mean you can’t take it seriously and that you can’t be a professional. 

Private commissions take more out of you than you think. Drawing art for other people and/or money is- you’ll never guess this- work. 

Be nice to to commissioners, they’re often nervous, and some aren’t sure what they want. And be professional about it- even if it’s “just” beer money to you. Keep receipts and send invoices. Email inquiries back in a reasonable time. Keep clients up to date with WIPs, queue status and all of that.

AND FINALLY:

    Don’t be a gremlin and look after your body, and find a comfortable drawing setup. Don’t draw if your hand hurts. Remember to pee and drink water and move around and stretch often, too. 

[photosworthseeing]

Blog recommendation of the month - Interview

https://hammadichakouath.tumblr.com/

1. When and how did you start to become interested in photography?

I have always had a big interest in Photography, especially Black and White Photography because I think B&W photographs have a soul and will never die, they are able to cross the ages. That's why it is so unique and the main characteristic of my work. I remember, I used to visit Magnum Photos's website almost everyday to look at the pictures, I really enjoyed looking at the portraits and documentary photography. Two of my favourite portrait photographers are Philippe Halsman and Steve McCurry.

I started taking photos about ten years ago when I got a camera as a gift from my brother, thought it was only a basic digital camera, but i didn't mind and just started creating my own photos and apparently I came to like it very much. To me photography is a creative way to express myself and my feelings.

2. How would you say your photography changed since you started?

When I first began photography, most of my photos were merely street photos or photos taken on the sly. Gradually I became interested in photography in general: Portraiture, Long Exposure, Landscape, and so on. On the top of this, I came into Analog Photography to complete my education. As an open-minded, curious person, who promotes diversity, I couldn't limit myself to only one style of photography. I hope that the audience can see that through my photos. This has been a big challenge for me at the beginning until i was able to take any kind of photo I want.

Now before pressing the shutter release I take all the photography elements into consideration  to succeed a photo. I also edit my photos, something I didn't do before. I am not very keen on post-processing although it's interesting and fun, but by manipulating an image we distort its authenticity. However, my point of view has changed since the beginning that's why I suggest for those who start photography to keep their beginner photos, some of them are masterpieces, we only realize that afterwards.

3. One part of your photography are self portraits, what draws you into this kind of photography?

I use myself as a model to take portraits for several reasons. For instance, when I have an idea for a photo in mind  I can't wait to make it happen, as the only model  I have  on the spot at my disposal is myself, I simply start doing it. In addition I am a very demanding and patient person, to take a single good self-portrait, it sometimes takes me several hours, adjusting the lighting and looking for the right angle, we all know: 'If you want a thing done well, do it yourself'. It's also a real challenge to do more with less, besides I don't think there are many models that would agree to remain exposed  to artificial light too long and i don't have to pay myself :) Last but not least self-portraits are not about myself, it just happens to be my face or my body that is quite simply suitable for the concept. Self-portraits are exercises to excel at portraiture, the more I take self-portraits the better.

4. What is the biggest difference in your approach when you're doing portraiture compared to self-portraiture?

There is really no difference because as I mentioned above doing self-portraits is a good practice to do great portraiture. However, when it comes to make a  client portraiture, for example, I respect his or her request even if I don't usually take those kinds of photo wanted. Most of people like a properly exposed or bright photo. But when it is a self-portrait, I give free rein to my imagination, as I like the strong contrasts between light and dark, in that case I don't hesitate to take underexposure or dark photos to create the film noir atmosphere.

5. Please describe your process when working with a model.

I usually work with friends, most of them are young artists (singers, actors, fashion models), we cooperate together, they pose for free and they get photographs in compensation. Personally, I have no difficulty in finding a model, we set a date, place and how long the work will take. It's interesting to work with outgoing people to take good and expressive photos. Nowadays you can easily find a free model on the social networks. However, if you have trouble in finding a model, you can ask your relatives or friends to pose for you.

6. Do you have any tips for photographers who never worked with a model before?

I would say: Trust yourself, be confident in what you're doing, express your own ideas, be imaginative and creative, everything can be done, the more photos you take, the better, you can make a selection at the end. Don't copying other photographers'work too much.

Suggest your model to wear her favorite clothes and makeup. Make your model feel comfortable: You can just make a simple conversation, give a compliment, direct them when they don't know what to do, also give your model a sneak peek of the photos that you just took, it helps to loosen up and also to correct her or himself. In case you wanna be on the safe side, have the model sign a little contract, this can avoid some misunderstandings.

7. If you'd have to describe yourself as a photographer in one sentence, what would that sentence be?

I would say I am a passionate photographer. I am very demanding and perfectionist and passion pushes you towards greatness. I've been told that before.

PWS - Stephi

[runeterrankhaleesi]

Helo! I hope I’m not to late to submit a LMMU but could I request a Valorant match up? Im pretty new to all of this so I hope I did it right! Anyway I hope you’re having a great day :))

I’m Pip and I use She/They pronouns and I am Bisexual. I'm about 5’4 and a bit stubby, I have wavy light brown hair that goes down to the mddle of my back, green eyes, and light freckles. For clothes, I dress more for the sake of comfort like sweats and a tank or leggings and a hoodie.

I’m an Ambivert that is guided by my emotions and sometimes let my feelings get the better of me. I’m a bit of a people pleaser and often put others needs before mine. I’ve been told I’m over-sensitive which I believe is true however it’s always been used against me in a negative way. On the exterior I’m a bit intimidating and have been cursed with a “resting bitch face.” I’ve tried to change that but I refuse to play up my personality just so random people would consider me friendly. Yes I’m a people pleaser but not to that degree.

I really enjoy art! I’m both a digital artist and traditional artist however I prefer digital a little bit more. I do a lot of figure drawings and draw my own characters almost daily. I am also very musically driven and relate a little too much to songs I sing along to in the shower. I enjoy Indie Music and Midwest Emo; Glass Animals being my favorite band. I enjoy singing, and I'm pretty damn good at it too! Art and music are both ways I like to express myself and really helps me relieve pent up anger or stress. They help me cope in a way.

I’m a bit of a gamer (that sounds cringy I’m so sorry) I really like open world games and first person shooters. At the moment I’ve been playing mostly Valorant because I want to get better but I do play a fair amount of Minecraft as well. When I play Val I switch between Raze and Cypher a lot. I just think they’re great agents because of their abilities and they’re personalities. They’re playlists on Spotify also slap.

Finally, what I look for in a partner is someone who has a sense of humor and can be patient with me. If you have a contagious laugh I’m literally head over heels. I personally can’t be in a relationship (romantic or platonic) with someone who doesn’t have a sense of humor, I just feel on edge all the time since a big part of my life is comedy. The patience part is because I’m kinda broken when it comes to relationship stuff. My last relationship has left me damaged and I would appreciate some patience. Personally I would like a slower relationship, I wouldn’t move in immediately and I would be really hesitant with saying/hearing “I love you.” In summary I just don’t want to rush things.

I pair you with...

ASTRA!

Why? Because...

Astra has this incredible zest for life that can just light up the whole room. You can tell she’s an extrovert by a single glance, the way she holds herself up and expresses herself are all telltale signs. That said, she doesn’t mind you being shy and closed off on some days and instead asks you if you want comfort or space.

She knows that you’re a bit of a people pleaser, she doesn’t mind as long as don’t go too far. Even so, she encourages you to be yourself more; your true self among other people, telling you that people should be your friend and love you for the real you, not because you changed into someone they want to be.

Like you, Astra likes art, drawing helps her calm down and process her thoughts. She actually has a notebook full of doodles that she carries with her anywhere. Astra would often ask to exchange notebooks/sketchbooks with you, she likes to see your own drawings and your characters. She has heard of your favorite songs many times, to the point that she had memorized it and sings it with you. The other agents can always hear you both tearing the HQ down with your amazing voices and they’re fine with it (unlike Breach’s drums and terrible singing).

She likes games as well but she plays the type of games like Candy Crush or just some relaxing games that allow you to drive in a car or ride a horse to past the time, though there are days where she feels competitive and will boot up her computer to play MOBA or FPS games, of course you queue up together and compete to see who gets more kills, winner gets a kiss and any wish granted.

And yes! Astra has a great sense of humor, she loves to joke around and have fun in any kind of situation. Tense or serious atmosphere just makes her uncomfortable so she does her best to lighten up the mood and exchange jokes with the people. Like I said, she’s very calm and patient too, she’s the epitome of a “zen person”. She’s very mindful of the people around her too, she cares for each and every one, she likes to know a person well so she could cheer them up whenever they feel down, and the same goes for you. She’s patient, if you have some bottled up feelings, Astra gives you some space first then waits for you to come to her willingly, she would never want to pressure you into anything.

💝~Happy Valentines Day!~💝

[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.