#it’s not really an anti eleven post it’s more anti the writing but just to be safe

[howtofightwrite]

Sorry if you’ve already answered this, I’m having trouble finding different posts in your blog.

I know a lot of your asks are more practical-related, but how do you suggest fully encapsulating the horror and tragedy of war in a (fantasy) battle scene? I really need that emotional and gory impact but it also to seem reasonably realistic.

My favourite references are Battle of the Bastards in GoT and scenes from Lord of the Rings.

Thanks!!

Martin and Tolkien are not two authors I’d ever expect to find together when discussing thematic and abstract concepts like the horrors of war in their writing. One of them is extremely deep, and the other is a puddle. Neither of them are particularly “realistic” but only one of them claims that pretense while drawing from real history. If you’re wanting horrors of war, you’re much better off moving away from Martin and taking a gander at the actual War of the Roses.

Let me explain.

Tolkien served as an officer during World War I. By sheer body count, The Great War was one of the most bloody and brutal wars in human history. As a point of reference, over a million soldiers died during the Battle of Somme. Perhaps as importantly, World War I killed the cultural concept of the Summer War. Before World War I, the British upper class viewed war as a game. War was an adventure, something young men did between reaching manhood and getting married. Watson from Sherlock Holmes is an excellent example of the end result for this particular outlook. They figured they’d go off, have some jolly good fun, get a few scars, and be back in a few weeks in time for tea. What they got was a meat grinder. Two of Tolkien’s close friends died during the war. He also lived through the bombings during World War II while working as a professor at Oxford, he experienced the devastating effects that war had on the civilian population first hand, and, likely, saw a few of his students die. Despite his hatred of allegory, the man was working through some shit in The Lord of the Rings.

If you’re interested in learning more about World War I or even about effectively demonstrating the horrors of war, I do recommend reading All Quiet on the Western Front. I read it once in high school (more years ago than I’d like to admit here) and, much like Elie Wiesel, it has stuck with me. It was also such an effective anti-war novel the Nazis banned it and it was one of the first books they publicly burnt, so you know it’s good.

Back to Tolkien.

What they don’t tell you about fantasy is that it’s real life, just with elves and dwarves and magic. The real world forms the foundation of fantasy and it’s the humanity of the emotional experience in war, the good and the bad, with both ends cranked all the way to eleven that really makes Tolkien’s work so impactful. LOTR is operatic by design, but what keeps the narrative from falling into melodrama is the core thematic message underneath the pageantry. One of the major themes is hope, which gets symbolized in light, and hope’s interplay with despair, symbolized in darkness. Not just a rosy view of it either, but the genuine struggle to keep the light burning against all the overwhelming reasons to give up or give in. Tolkien allows his characters to be corrupted and redeemed, their struggle with temptation before ultimately choosing the better path or failing and falling into darkness. He commits to the idea that hope can be restored in the unlikeliest of places.

Boromir’s death is, perhaps, one of the best examples of Tolkien’s philosophy in action. Boromir is a character we’re not sure of, he wants the one ring from the outset, he’s the only one advocating that it shouldn’t be destroyed. The hearts of men are easily corrupted. When he tries to take the ring from Frodo, he falls into his worst instincts and breaks the Fellowship. But then, against the overwhelming flood of Uruk-hai, Boromir tries to save Merry and Pippin. He fights wounded, shot again, and again, until he’s felled by twenty arrows and he fails. Yet, in his failure he restores Aragorn’s hope in his people, gives him a reason to fight for Gondor, and inspires the audience to believe in Man’s potential for greatness.

Tolkien could have left Boromir in the dark, but he didn’t. He could’ve given into cynicism, but he didn’t. In every adaptation, Boromir’s death never fails to get me bawling. Boromir is both good and bad, both dark and light, his best and worst instincts are driven by the same underlying, sympathetic reason—his desire to save his people and fulfill his duty to his father.

On the whole, I find Tolkien’s presentation of the human condition and war to be more compelling and realistic than Martin’s. Tolkien’s underlying themes have more in common with All Quiet on the Western Front, Saving Private Ryan, and HBO’s Band of Brothers. For all that his characters often feel larger than life (by design, he’s telling an epic) there’s always a grounding quality that allows the audience to connect with them. Whether we agree with Tolkien’s core thematic message or not, Tolkien genuinely has something to say about warfare and its effect, both on personal and world changing levels, and he communicates that message very well.

The irony about the “horrors of war” isn’t about the horrors of war. Thematically, the “horrors of war” is about who we choose to become in the face of them when trapped in the crucible. Do we rise to our best selves? Do we fall to our worst? When every illusion about who we believe we are is stripped away, what’s left? It’s an existential question, not a “realistic” one.

You can’t write about the horrors of war in fiction if you have nothing to say about war, humanity, and its effects. All you’ll end up with is gore for shock value. The world becomes hopelessly depressing, and, in the end, all the blood turns brown before it’s finally shat out.

Hi, Martin.

Don’t get me wrong, Martin is a very skilled writer. His prose is genuinely beautiful and his first book in ASOF, A Game of Thrones is actually a pretty decent deconstruction in the traditional fantasy narrative and a fairly realistic treatment of how events would go for the standard well-meaning fantasy protagonist. And that’s… the deepest we get.

Martin comes out of the 24/Joss Whedon death for shock value school of writing and the land of Iron Age comics that doesn’t have anything to really say beyond, “people suck.” Underneath it all is a level of cynicism in the human condition that would make Garth Ennis blush. The deaths are just shock value. There’s nothing more to it than that. Once you’ve acclimated to the gore, there’s nowhere else to go and nothing else to think about. Ironically, out of his contemporaries, Robert Jordan is better at giving both war and death in his narrative lasting effect, driving character growth, and real meaning.

Martin and Tolkien are opposite ends of the spectrum in their approach to war and their outlooks are utterly incompatible. One of them is a complete cynic and the other is facing himself honestly, openly, fearlessly, and without a smidgen of irony. (The true irony here is that the latter is the Englishman.) Following Martin’s blueprint won’t bring you to a Tolkien outcome. Tolkien’s genuine emotion is the subject of mockery in Martin’s world. Season 8 may’ve been clumsy and infuriating, but it was the natural end of Comic Book Iron Age cynicism. There are no good people, people with power can never be trusted, and all heroes, no matter how noble, reveal their true colors as villains in the end. As Christopher Nolan said, “You either die a hero or live long enough to become a villain.” This philosophical outlook may be sold as realistic but it’s really just Political Both Sidesism, Fantasy Edition.

The irony is that the real history Martin draws from, The War of the Roses, is simultaneously crueler, kinder, more noble, more horrific, more impactful, and ultimately more hopeful than Martin’s own work. And this was post the Hundred Years War and all the wars that preceded it.

I bring you, the Duality of Man.

If you want to write a realistic battle scene, start with real war. If you want to write about the horrors of war, start with real war. Pick a war, any war, and dig in. Reading the experiences of others is a way to gain insight into experiences you yourself don’t share and start to process the different philosophies born out of those experiences. The horror of war is a human one.

The most important lesson is that you won’t get there by focusing on the battle itself. To truly feel the impact, every character needs to be carefully built from the very beginning with a through line to every horrific event that happens to them. If you want to learn how to do that, then you need to go study every single war movie from good to bad (including the jingoistic rah-rah ones) like Apocalypse Now, Saving Private Ryan, Battle for Iwo Jima, etc, to really start internalizing the underlying storytelling structure and character design formula that makes those films tick. There’s no one better at portraying the horror and humanity of war than the war film industry. Part of what makes the best of these films really good is their willingness to allow their characters to be emotional and vulnerable. Which you won’t find in a lot of fantasy novels that run on machismo, but is the secret sauce that gives Tolkien his impact.

Having the confidence to allow your characters to struggle, be vulnerable, experience humiliating circumstances, and appear weak is an aspect of writing that a lot of men and women struggle with. Cynicism is a form of self-protection to keep those emotions away, to keep one from being emotionally invested, and is a means by which we protect ourselves from being hurt. We may portray cynicism as the more realistic reality but it’s just a cloak we hide behind. Martin’s approach to warfare is less realistic than Tolkien’s. Tolkien’s characters approach warfare with an eye toward protecting their civilians, safeguarding their future, or, in the case of his villains, focus on genocide. War for Tolkien is the eradication of civilization and the destruction of the future. Characters from experienced combatants to innocent civilians are willing to risk their lives for a world and for the people who matter to them. Martin has the Summer War. It’s there in the title, A Game of Thrones. An entertaining charade of musical chairs. And while all of his characters are chasing power, almost none of them have any sort of vision or goal for the future beyond the accumulation of more. In Martin’s world, the only way to truly win is not to play, but in the real world playing is the only way to create the world you want. Cynicism ends with no seats at the table and no means to change or save anything.

It’s funny because England during the War of the Roses had been in a state of near constant warfare for hundreds of years with their own domestic powers and France prior to the War of the Roses kicking off. The concept of a Summer War didn’t really exist for the medieval nobility. Much as we joke today about war being a game for medieval nobles due to their ransom protections, it really wasn’t. The peasantry was also much, much more dangerous en masse than they are in ASOF. They drove traveling monarchs to hide in monasteries plenty of times and, while that’s funny, it’s not actually a joke.

Now, picture Joffrey dragged off his horse in the middle of a riot and having his skull crushed by a local fishwife right before being trampled into a bloody, unrecognizable pulp by sharp hooves.

Or enjoying the Agincourt bathing route.

You’re welcome.

-Michi

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[anastacialy]

actually, fuck it, i AM writing the essay, even if no one will read it.

my thoughts on penelope, how she sees herself, and why the carriage scene's ending is the most important thing in the whole wide world under the cut. and bridgerton season three part one spoilers, obviously.

penelope featherington hates herself. bit of a strong start here but, there we go. that's what you get when i'm going feral about her again at three in the morning. (it was eleven a.m. when i finished writing this post. i rewatched all four episodes of season three...)

i'll start from the beginning — she isn't a confident person. i think that's what a lot of penelope hate really comes down to, not relating to her in that way at all. not understanding what being treated the way she has can do to you. so let's start here:

imagine for a moment, no one fucking listens to you.

this includes her favorite people in the world. her family, for one thing, that's obvious, but her best friend, too. many times we hear eloise discover and re-discover what penelope's interests are in the series because, as she says, "i didn't really hear it." she was so frequently not really listening to her. they've been friends for years, but huge aspects of her friend's personality were completely unknown to her. this isn't anti-eloise by the way, i love her too, but we're adults who can admit our favs are all flawed people. the show wouldn't be nearly as fun if they weren't. eloise continues to belittle others for their interests when they don't match up to hers (like that poor girl who was just really passionate about embroidery) and she's done so to pen, however unknowingly, for ages.

penelope tried to beg marina to not fool colin into marriage. she had so, so many other suitors, so many other choices she could have made. all pen wanted was to not have her other best friend slash crush make that life altering of a mistake. but for this, she was called a child. immature. talked down to as if she knows nothing about the world. (she had been mostly right, by the way, in her insisting that george must still love marina, would still want to marry her, discovering that the letter had been forged. if he'd not died on the battlefield, penelope would have been the one to secure a happy ending for marina.) when she wasn't listened to then, she got more desperate, telling colin that marina was in love with someone else to deter him from the marriage while still careful to not ruin marina's reputation and expose her pregnancy in the process. she tried. but no one would listen.

so only when the situation became dire, she did the only thing that she could, and took matters into her own hands.

which brings us to lady whistledown.

it's interesting, really, that she chose that name. to specify lady so she might be taken seriously, yet not hide under a pseudonym completely removed from herself (i.e. using a masculine pen name or implying she's not a part of the ton at all) it's clear that lady whistledown is, for the most part, what penelope wants to and yet fails to be: someone who commands attention, who people admire and trust for an opinion, someone who gets listened to.

by the time we find her in season three, she's fresh off hearing her crush saying he'd never, ever court her, and her best friend finding out that she was lady whistledown all along and had exposed a secret of hers — only after penelope had, of course, also begged eloise to stop seeing theo, to stop raising the queen's suspicions, and was once again ignored. her only friendships have been destroyed, and she has resigned herself to a loveless marriage of convenience because she can't stand to be ignored, controlled, and belittled by her family any longer. she's ready to take the devil she doesn't know over the devil she does.

so, when i say her self confidence is on the floor, i mean it.

yes, a sliver of hope remains in her, and we can see that in her decisions (wearing parisian fashions, for instance) but her plan remains, she is simply going to marry someone, anyone, because she has to.

but even still, her confidence has not taken it's last hit.

let's imagine some more: no matter what you do, people are going to laugh at you.

penelope finally, finally gets her big moment. people stare at her as she enters the room. she still immediately hides herself in a corner because that's who she's always been, but still. she has a moment. not quite what she'd imagined, i'm sure, as she bought all new gowns, but attention and awe nonetheless. but it cracks almost instantly when her social awkwardness comes out, failing to get anyone to ask her to dance, and shatters completely when cressida destroys her dress before she can ever take to the floor.

colin tells her she looks nice, and her immediate reaction is "do not mock me, please."

it's only after this that she confronts colin about what he said, only after this that she speaks ill of him as lady whisteldown — not saying any more than what his sister had already pointed out earlier in the episode, mind you, that his change in personality seemed disingenuous — only after she has been publicly humiliated that she lashes out in her anger.

and, this anger, she also immediately regrets after colin has proven himself to be kind. it's a bit like making a snide comment online without the ability to delete it after.

but when penelope has hope, she is kind. she writes of the promising ladies of the ton and wishes them well with their matches, when she has hope she speaks positively of would-be spinsters and their successful marriages. many of her earlier musings in previous seasons were to call the women of the ton beautiful, to speak to their skills.

but hope for penelope does not last long. she manages to successfully speak to one suitor at the next ball (which, though this is another argument entirely, is backed by a string quartet version of "jealous" as colin re-approaches her at the drinks table — any arguments that his feelings start at their kiss isn't paying near enough attention) but the entirely true rumor about her having help from him spreads through the vine and penelope is hopeless once more.

and a hopeless penelope is a cruel penelope, as we've seen, and this time, she turns that cruelty inward, publicly. while she later says it would have been suspicious if lady whistledown hadn't commented, in truth, she has proven time and time again that her emotions rule lady whistledown's writings. in that moment, eyes tearful, she was embarrassed and ashamed of herself, she decided to say so. she repeats the same sentiment to colin when he comes to visit her:

"in truth i brought this on myself. a sad, stupid girl who believed she might actually have a chance at love."

and here is where lady whistledown continues to be someone penelope sees as different to herself, because penelope doesn't see herself as a lady. not just for lack of title — she does not see herself as worthy of or requiring protection. to call back to antony's season one romance: "every woman is not afforded such gallant protection." "every woman is not a lady."

she says nothing of him bribing her maid to give them time alone. like most of the ton she doesn't think the time they spend alone together could be anything other than platonic, at least on his end. they spent extended time unchaperoned at the bridgerton house and not once did she speak on impropriety. he'd been alone with her in the previous season and even when they were caught no one had a thing to say about it. no one questions it because penelope is not recognized as desirable, not seen as needing this protection, not seen as a lady. she is seen, even by herself, as a spinster already.

when she asks colin for a kiss, she reassures him that she would ask nothing of him for it, she would not entrap him in a marriage citing impropriety, she doesn't even think about whether someone might see. she does not care in this moment if she is to be "ruined," she only wants to feel some illusion of intimacy, some imitation of being wanted. even her running back inside immediately after, and the subsequent conversation under the willow tree, are further proof that she doesn't believe he could have kissed her for any reason other than pity.

and, even after all she goes through with lord debling, she is still not the only object of his affections. the entire time she pursues him, cressida is there, hot on the trail, ready to sweep him away on a moment's notice. penelope writes of their dance that his choice of her is surprising. though her feelings for colin have not simply fluttered away once debling's shown interest, her possible engagement to debling is on a wavering tightrope. not once in this can she feel wholly at ease with lord debling, only afforded a bit of security once he asks her mother for her blessing. and amongst this, her mother still belittles her, saying she should not become greedy for wanting to marry someone who actually cares for her.

she asks lord debling if he might ever love her, in all the years of marriage they may have ahead, and he says probably not.

and when colin breaks up her proposal, insisting debling isn't right for her, still penelope does not even consider, can not even conceptualize that it might be done out of jealousy. colin having feelings for her is laughable, she says as much, and it is the same thing she has been told over and over since the start. he chases after her carriage out of breath asks to be let in, gets on his knees and tells her he can't stop dreaming of her and she tells him "please. do not say things you do not mean." she cannot imagine that any of this is real. it is confusion that prompts her to repeat the agreement they had in episode one, "but, colin, we are friends."

and while an entirely separate essay could be written about the rest of the carriage scene, it is what happens the moment the carriage arrives at bridgerton house that stands out to me. they have this moment, colin asks "could the carriage driver not keep on driving?" and they both laugh, the way they always do with one another, and he fixes her dress (carefully, avoiding using a select few fingers as he does so) and they kiss again, and he gets out of the carriage.

and for a single, heartbreaking second, penelope's face falls, and she calls after him: "colin?"

it is so clear in her demeanor that she thought that was it; that's all she gets. the fantasy is over and it is back to reality. for a split second, she believes he is no longer hers.

for a single second, it's as though she thinks he is going to shut the carriage door on her, and walk away.

but he turns around, hand outstretched, asking if she'd like to come in. and she's once again confused, "what?"

do not say things you do not mean. do not mock me please.

and when he says: "for god's sake, penelope featherington, are you going to marry me or not?"

she looks so relived she could cry.

[olderthannetfic]

I hope you dont mins me asking

But how would you suggest the best way to not be so anxious in fandoms these days.

It just seems like im going to be bullied out of fandom for even wanting to be in fandom. Regardless of the kind of content i like or how i like it. Its just seems like people who are in fandom dont want to themselves and not really about older or newer fans not wanting more new fans... Just.. They dont want fandom to exist at all anymore. If thta makes sense

Ive been in fandom for years but only recently bacame an adukt and now i really wanna start getting more involved.. I recently started a series oneshot fic thats gonna take alot of time.. But i havent even posted an actual chaoter yet and i am so afraid of gettijg a bunch of shit for it.

Its not meant to be anything explicit infact i made it very sfw bexause thats what i wanted.

But what of someone decides hey fuck you this sucks and now im going to make up reasons that your fic is (ableist, racist, homophobic stuff like that). And i just... I want to write.

Years ago i was in a much older fandom(transformers g1 if you can believe it) and it was so nice there. Maybe its because i was young but theres wasnt nearly so much anti bullshit that there is now especially in newer fandoms.

I know theres like block and ignore and delete comments but... I dont want to deal with it. And i probably know there isnt realky anytjing i can actually do about it

Its just so bad. I want to participate in fandom, but fandom is so terrible these days. Ive seen so many of my favorite artists fucking dissapear over being bullied for something they said years ago thats now considered "worthy of being tortured alive" for saying.

I just want it all to stop. I thought fandom would get better as it became more popular. Artists would have more freedom and stuff.

Instead im afraid im going to get bullied for a fucking teen rated gen fic with zero shipping, zero dark theme, and zero sex on the off chance someone thinks its not good enough. Suddenly its not appropriate for teenagers for some dumb reason

When i fucking was one two years ago. (like mate i was reading robot porn at ELEVEN)

Im so tired. I think the only good thing about the fandom im in is the fact the creators of the media are actually super chill and even supportive about fans selling fanworks and comms of characters and stuff

This was supoosed to be a simple question but ig im just so sick of how fandom is that i ended up ranting about it.

--

Getting more popular makes things much worse, not better.

But overall, anxiety is about you and your internal emotional state.

There was always danger of being attacked. It looks different now, but fear isn't more or less justified in the present day. The actual level of danger isn't the issue here.

[archivalofsins]

So, let's talk about the last few questions.

In this post we'll be discussing Kotoko's second trial interrogation questions.

Here's every post I've made regarding all of her interrogation questions.

Question 1, Question 2, Question 3, Questions 4-7 Part 1, Question 7-9 Part 2, Question 10.

So, today we'll be attempting to cover every question that has come out since then.

That means questions eleven through sixteen.

They aren't really that interesting but at least the written interrogation is almost over. This trial has been rather repetitive if I'm being honest.

But first let's address the elephant in the room-

I want to spend the beginning of this post discussing the behavior exhibited by a few bad apples over the course of Kotoko's second trial. What follows are just my personal experiences and my opinions on the matter.

Gunsli; why haven't you been discussing the questions the day they release? You were doing it that way at the start. Why are you waiting for a batch of them to drop then writing something up on it now? To take it further why are you being so thorough when it comes to Kotoko specifically? I mean you weren't like this with any of the other prisoners.

Okay, example questions that I've written up to answer. For anyone new here I was like this with other characters. Like literally this whole side blog is like this.

I spent the second trial of one of my favorite characters blatantly stating he was lying in every way possible. Highlighting it was definitely him that did that shit and how unfair it was that he was coasting to an innocent verdict in comparison to the trials of others before him. Regardless of if others wanted to speculate differently.

So, please believe me when I say one thing, I am consistent in my behavior.

I talk and write about the things that interest me.

Literally all of the prisoner's written interrogations have been interesting to me to varying degrees. Kotoko isn't the first prisoner I've written a lot about, and she won't be the last.

This is Milgram.

This is how it works. We've gone nine other trials doing the same thing for everyone else. Kotoko is not special. This is just another trial on the record for me. Sorry not sorry; don't go losing your heads over it now. She's no different from the nine other characters to come before her.

Plus, to be crass for a moment Kotoko doesn't want to step on anyone here anyway. She especially isn't going to want to step on the people that fully believe she's right. I've got a better chance of being stepped on by her than any of the yes man thirsting after her. Well, that is if Anti Beat is anything to go by.

With that low shot out of the way. I have been as critical of every prisoner as I've been with Kotoko. Even going as far to highlight when my own biases may be impacting my view on a character or their situation. The only character in Milgram who even remotely got any leniency from me if we're being real was Kazui.

The only reason that was is because people were espousing what came off to me as homophobic rhetoric in regards to his case, and I didn't want anything I said to be involved with that. Even still when I said what I thought he did after his trial ended, I still got flack for it. He wasn't even on fucking trial anymore it literally couldn't impact anything to speak about the concept in good faith.

So, I'm not coming at this brand new. I try to remain as consistent as possible. I have my lines and stick to them.

Even though I can get heated just like anyone else I still try my best to not compromise myself and discuss the topics at hand with consideration towards others. The reason I've moved to discussing Kotoko's written interrogation in batches like this is because-

One, it's more entertaining for me to do it that way and keeps my own attention better. Since I'm busy with life stuff currently. Also, it gives breathing room for the tag to die down in activity. So, more avid fans of her character don't end up coming across my post. Whether anyone wants to believe it or not some of Kotoko's fans have simply been the most obnoxious out of any trial to happen so far.

One going as far as to direct message me with what they believed to be pertinent corrective information that needed to be brought to my attention about a post I made. Condescendingly telling me I think you don't know what that word means causing this post to be necessary.

These are all the screenshots of it I still have from sharing this experience on discord. Honestly, I don't have a damn thing to hide. Even though I believe my behavior in this instance could have been better.

The behavior exhibited by this party regardless of how they personally feel about Kotoko or not was incredibly inappropriate. They contacted me under the belief that they could educate me on my improper use of this term. For what I can only believe was in the hopes of me rewording the post I had written to use a softer and less serious phrase in their opinion.

The way this person went about this was to me indicative of an entitled and woefully misinformed individual. They begin this conversation by demeaning my intelligence. Then when informed they were in fact incorrect about their assertion state,

"I apologize with that, I wasn't trying to say grooming can only be sexual. That wasn't exactly my point though with messaging you about this."

Then continued to denote that grooming can only occur when physical touch is present through stating,

"Grooming is still a very serious term to throw around, so I do not see how Kotoko deliberately pushing a child away from her and manipulating her to retract a testimony can somehow equate to grooming her."

A sentiment that still implies this individual believes on some level that all grooming is overtly physical or sexual.

I can admit I came on strong in these direct messages with this individual. Who again decided they just had to contact me about what they believed to be an egregious error on my part. I was defensive due to being rightfully upset by the situation occurring. However, this instance is not indicative of the sort of person I want to be when instances like this arise.

Even if from my perspective this individual had messaged me in a very accusatory, combative, disrespectful fashion that ultimately ended in insulting my intelligence. I can recognize how me sticking to facts and definitions may come off as callous, inconsiderate, or obstinate.

Still, I've stated before and I will state again I do not argue with people over their subjective opinions.

That is why when it came to my attention this was a subjective and personal interpretation which had nothing to do with my wording or the meaning of the term being used, I told this person as much. Then the discussion ended shortly after. Did I have to explain my point of view further when I stated that to them? No, I did not. At the time I was very annoyed that someone had messaged me with a lecture about something they didn't fully understand and were only treating seriously to use as a justification for why Kotoko or her actions should not be referred to in the way I did.

An individual going from, "I think you were using this term wrong" to "Well even if you were using it correctly I still think it's a very serious term to just fling around like you are". Is incredibly wishy washy to say the least and at the most disingenuous. In my opinion the behavior exhibited was not treating the topic of grooming with the seriousness it deserved.

I used the term I did in that post because this topic matters to me. It is something I am very serious about for personal reasons. For someone to message me something of this nature without knowing one thing about me or my life solely based on my post about Kotoko is disrespectful. They don't know what I know, what I've been through, or what experiences shaped me concluding what I did.

They just saw me saying something they didn't like/agree with about a character they enjoy and messaged me this without taking my own personhood into consideration. I could have blocked them. I didn't have to engage. I could have spent that hour doing something better with my time than being pestered by someone who had already chosen what their opinion of me was before even messaging under the guise of just wanting to share their concerns.

Because heaven forbid people know the technical definition of grooming or how to spot it. I mean if they did that may actually help people recognize when it's happening outside of a sexual context and move away from individuals that may be predating on them. What kind of sicko would want that? Me I want that. I want people to know how to spot these things because it's important and it allows people to be safer in real life. I don't think it's a controversial opinion to have or to state. I don't think that's an odd thing to want.

I'm not worried about fictional people. I'm worried about the safety and well-being of real people. How the beliefs people apply in Milgram can impact how they act in their real lives, the way they treat others, and how they analyze difficult and controversial topics. Maybe if we just fling around terms when they're applicable people just might learn something. Even if some people don't see how this applies or even agree with the assertion on a subjective level.

Some people in this fandom could really benefit from becoming comfortable with saying that lesson wasn't meant for me and moving the fuck on. Instead of doing things like this.

Outside of this instance other people have been harassing me before this trial even fucking started. So, what the fuck am I meant to do in this situation, huh? Some people may feel like I should stop talking about it. Yet, the fact that some people have no clue what the definition of grooming is should be a topic of concern and discussion actually. That's a legitimate problem.

Which is why I made that post discussing it.

So, from this I know personally that more avid fans have been behaving in this manner since checks notes (the timestamp of the discord messages)-

The day after her song was released.

So, if anyone doesn't see a back and forth happening here, please assume it's happening in private just like many did with other trials. Instead of believing both parties are ignoring the other and equally dismissive.

In previous trials people wanted to talk about taking things too seriously, Milgram being in good fun, and the characters not being real people when it came to literal depictions of child abuse and neglect.

There were a fair few people reducing Amane's situation to not treating her like a child because she asked us not to do that. Stating that treating her like a victim of abuse was comparable to treating her like a child. That doing so would be infantilizing and something she expressed not wanting in her first voice drama.

Ignore the fact that in her second voice drama Es specifically speculates that she on some level did want to be treated like a child and for her mistakes to be forgiven.

Along with these line that blatantly allude to this being the case from her first song Magic,

"Dear wise one, is this ok? Is it ok to be weak sometimes? I promise! A good girl that keeps a promise is like, mwah! I won’t say “I’ve had enough” Will you laugh with me and forgive me?"

"I hope, I hope everyone can be happy and smile. Forever, forever together would be a dream. Dear wise one, Am I worthy? Is it ok to spoil myself?"

"Even I can say "I'm sorry". Even I have hope I swear! I'm going to be a good girl now! That's it!"

This isn't about the abuse or her age this about taking a firm stance against cult mentalities. Amane needs to know that this sort of behavior is wrong and is never excusable even when you're being actively abused. Despite that not being the case at all during Mu's first trial.

It's like trauma and abuse are only a reasonable justification that should be taken into consideration to further contextualize the situation at hand only when it's certain characters. Not something that is getting applied equally across trials. Statements such as these prompted me to state this at the time.

Some fans of the series even going as far to state the individuals who wanted Amane Innocent during that trial were mean, aggressive, rabid, and unreasonable. Based on things happening from other platforms that certain individuals choose to bring here.

For some reason during Amane's trial people were barely discussing the blatant trauma displayed let alone speculating about other trauma she may have.

Then when discussing this situation with a friend during the day of the eclipse they brought up how everyone was really different about Haruka's trauma too. Voting him guilty for safety reasons or to show him how he was behaving was wrong and undesirable. Despite a 50/50 being possible in his situation. The same reasons people tried to use again with Amane.

So, I really don't see why some people believe speculating about Kotoko having trauma, something that everyone in Milgram and every person on earth has, is going to better contextualize her behavior, bring nuance to, or even help her case. The fandom has consistently shown that they do not care about people with trauma over the course of trial two unless it's a certain type. Some want to state that others are pushing forth the idea that Kotoko doesn't have trauma when I've personally seen no one say that and I have not said that myself.

Because it would be asine to say that. Everyone in the world has trauma to varying extents. I could not walk up to one person and ask hey do you have trauma that would go, "Actually no.... I don't think I have any. Nothing in my life has ever upset me to the extent of it being traumatic. I've actually never had any troubles ever. The world is just perfect for me. I look outside the airs crisp the sun shines all time. Sure I've faced hardships but nothing as severe as what it takes to have genuine trauma and no I've never needed therapy. I'll also never go."

It would sound off if someone told me that. It would sound a lot like, "Well some have it worse so I can't complain. Even the worst thing that has happened to me couldn't compare to what people who truly struggle go through." When honestly people can be doing worse than you and that would not diminish the experiences in your life that have hurt you or even excuse those people who have had it worse hurting you if they do. The reverse is true too. Someone could be doing better than you and that in no way can be used to dismiss the struggles they've gone through or the pain your actions may cause them.

That's just simply not how anything works. Trauma is not a competition. Sure there are varying degrees of trauma and not everyone's is going to be the same. Think of it like a burn there are different degrees but at the end of the day everyone still gets burned every once and a while. We can discuss the severity but at the end of the day all burns need treatment and time to heal. Getting burned is no excuse to be an arsonist. That has always been my point with this. Not that Kotoko doesn't have trauma but that having trauma is a normal part of life. That does not make anyone less or more than the other people around them.

I've only pointed out that I believe it's a bit ableist to state she has to have trauma because "No normal person ends up like her" or "Because no one without trauma would end up the way she is". Because newsflash everyone has some sort of trauma. Something I don't personally have an issue admitting. Furthermore, anyone could end up like Kotoko no one has to be a special sort of messed up in their past to end up the way she is. Yet not being a special sort of messed up from your past doesn't it make it more likely for someone to turn out like Kotoko.

Any person could turn out like this. Anybody could choose to behave the same way she does. Regardless someone's past does not justify or excuse them being cruel or lashing out at others. Plus, like I covered in both Amane and Haruka's cases their trauma was either blatantly ignored or weaponized against them. So, I don't see how speculating about this will make the situation better.

If that's just what people enjoy doing with their time go for it. I'm not one to knock what others find enjoyable as long as they aren't hurting others.

Plus, on a personal note I love a bit of angst every now and then myself. As well as project on the characters that I relate to. So, I understand why a good deal of people would be attached to the concept of her having trauma, maybe even trauma like their own.

However, other people not enjoying that is no reason to consistently harass or mistreat them. People can have their fun but it shouldn't be at the expense of the people around them and their feelings. I'm personally not going to speculate about shit we haven't seen at all and I have no interest in.

Kotoko having the sort of traumatic past for the reasons some individuals want her to have one just does not intrigue me. I'm not speculating on this at this time because the way it is being speculated is demeaning to me.

Want to know the most fucked up part?

People will say that others are saying she doesn't have trauma. Including myself in this when I literally fucking speculated, she had a dissociative disorder.

Something that forms through traumatic events.

So, it's not even like I'm avidly against this, don't see the merit in thinking about it, or haven't speculated on this before. I just don't think having trauma should be used as a justification or excuse for how she has behaved in the past or has stated she is committed to continuing to behave now.

I also don't believe it is something readily apparent based on how she behaves. Because again that's fucking ableist regardless of how I slice it that's how it comes off. Yet even if I didn't fucking speculate that and I saw no merit in examining Kotoko's possible trauma. That would be a personal decision of mine deserving of respect, not a thing to be antagonized over.

To be honest I find it interesting and somewhat disingenuous that things are suddenly that serious now.

Oh, but no it's only that serious if that speculative information is being used to explain and give additional context to her behavior specifically. Only if the one doing so is presenting that in a sympathetic way of course. If they're doing this in a way that comes off as demonizing Kotoko to the other party or displaying that she's wrong, then they get messages like those.

Explaining politely that they are in fact a moron, whose statements have really hurt the other person's feelings, that just doesn't know the harm their words are causing or the definition of the terms they use. To people viewing these issues in this way suddenly the other party is the sort of person who couldn't analyze their way out of a paper bag let alone through Milgram.

You just don't get it- You're a,

Moron who just didn’t understand.

Q.10 What were you called online?

Kotoko: A lot of things. Cause there were people who supported me, and then there were also morons who just didn’t understand.

No need to fret though these good people are here to help teach you the right way to interpret this now. You can learn the right way to analyze this, okay? A way that isn't so offensive to them. If you can do that maybe there's still some hope for you. Ya little dumb-dumb. With your little dumb-dumb theories and statements that lack nuance. Oh, you little thing you- If you can just listen now there's still a chance.

If you can't then you're just one of those people, it seems.

Wait, wait hold on- Let's wind it back a bit.

What about the logic used before? What if all the people voting Kotoko guilty were just having fun and the innocent voters were so aggressive and unreasonable? So, what if some people wanted to vote Kotoko guilty for the fuck of it. They're just trying to have some fun guys, it's not that serious. She's not a real person.

How would people behaving in that manner now be any different from any of the other trials then? Other than the fact that some of the people involved are on the receiving end of it this time.

At least I wouldn't be making an entire fucking shrine over it! Bribing people to vote a certain way and creating a new superstition. Yet to some of the people behaving in these ways towards other people the other party just talking about it online is bad enough.

The only reason that things have been quiet in this case is due to a lot of people who are too nice not wanting to rock the boat and staying quiet. Not because nothing is going on at all. Just like with the anon sent to the confession blog. There have been individuals who act like this for a well-documented amount of time. Harassing people behind the guise of anonymity and in private. The tactics have not changed, and individuals who choose to behave in this way will do anything to who they view as against them in the moment without much thought.

This is not an us versus them situation. This is not a cold war. This is a few bad actors harassing people for enjoying and viewing things in a different way than them.

I believe that's the definition of taking things too seriously when it comes to Milgram. So yeah, I'm saying my piece and hauling ass as quickly as possible and doing something else.

Because this is what people who even remotely discuss any of the characters analytically get for it. Not even just Kotoko. This same shit has happened to me multiple times throughout the second trial of Milgram with different characters. Which is why I treat all of this like any other day.

Yet, through saying this I recognize there are still going to be some who could frame me as behaving like this. Some people may seriously view myself and others who discuss Kotoko in ways they dislike as literal villains. People that are just conniving in the shadows to ruin her good name and strip her miraculous character of all nuance.

Evil laughing guffawing like fucking Alvin and Chipmunks villains. As they rub their hands together and laugh with their high pitch voices of sin.

Mwahahah-

"Look at her bloody evil covered in sin we've done it- We've ruined and flattened this character! We've achieved! Yaha!" They possibly imagine people who discuss her in disagreeable ways cheering as they hit that post button with a menacing grin. Just like Kotoko doing her fucking journalism and all that research.

It's so funny how much both parties in this situation have in common with Kotoko when one takes a step back to really think about it.

Hell, some fans of Milgram look at the work the staff on the series does and how certain characters have been portrayed in canon over the course of trial two the same way as people are being viewed in this situation for how they discuss Kotoko. Something that has been happening for a while. The people who create the thing aren't even exempt from this sort of behavior.

There are a good deal of people who act like this toward others then go crying about how there isn't enough nuance being applied in these situations. How people just aren't thinking about these things hard enough or in the right way. When really there is nuance just not the sort they want.

I talk about Milgram for my own enjoyment.

I'm not getting anything from this outside of displaying that enjoyment for the most part. I don't have a vendetta against Kotoko as a character. None of the Milgram characters are the people who consider themselves to be their fans.

How the people that claim to like these characters treat other real people is completely on them, reflective of their character, and ability for empathy. Simply put they chose to treat other people the ways they did and they are responsible for that regardless of how in the right they believe they are.

Yet, even if some bad actors who call themselves fans of hers consistently caused me strife that doesn't impact how much I like Kotoko's character. Just like me discussing her in a not completely positive light isn't indicative of my feelings on her either.

I can separate a character from their fans. I had a lot of practice with other prisoners before this. I can criticize a characters actions while still grasping and understanding their motivations. This is just another Monday where I talk about the things I like the way I enjoy discussing them. This trial is like every other trial to me.

In my opinion the fandom hasn't changed one bit and if anyone were to pop the hood they'd see all the gunked up gears inside. Yet, heed this warning once you go under you don't go back up top without getting dirty.

That's Milgram and it always has been.

This is what this fandom is like. A lot of good people are trying to make the best of it. Even those mistakenly hurting others in their upset are just trying to look out for their own enjoyment. Possibly in what may be the only way they know how to in this moment. That's really the only grace I can extend at this time.

So, as always when I discuss things like this within the fandom- Remember to treat people how you would personally like to be treated. How you would want your opinions and beliefs to be treated. Remember that this fandom is a space for more people than yourself. So, not everyone is going to view things the same way as you.

Take a step back and realize how amazing and enriching that fact can be. Take a moment to appreciate the diversity that each person within this fandom contributes to it. Whether that's for better or worse.

If someone's views aren't doing any harm to real people then the best thing to be is respectful. No one would want another person to walk up to them then tell them they're enjoying something they like improperly. Yes someone's individual beliefs can upset another person and be in direct opposition to what they believe but that's not causing anyone harm. Not everyone I meet in my life is going to agree with my personal beliefs or how I present them.

That does not diminish the value of those beliefs.

Diversity of thought isn't an issue. It's only becomes an issue when those thoughts turn into actions that hurt people. In fact, diversity of thought is how nuance is formed. The thing some are saying Kotoko's case does not have enough of. Which is why that statement rings so disingenuous to me across fandoms not just here.

If for some reason it's impossible for another person to be considerate and respectful of the other individuals they share a space with then they should remove themselves from that space. There is no reason for anyone to actively antagonize others on their posts in a bad faith, disrespectful, and reductive ways. There's especially no reason to direct message someone in an attempt to make them feel insecure or uncertain about something they've posted just because one may personally disagree with it.

I'm not sorry about the way I discuss Kotoko.

I am sorry that so many people are more concerned over the perception of a fictional character that they've begun stepping on the feelings and boundaries of the real people they share a space with. I'm ashamed that individuals in the fandom have and are continuing to act the ways I've experienced, seen, and heard of them acting towards people.

All of whom do quite frankly thankless work at times. I can only hope that the people who have behaved in this manner over the course of the series mature one day and recognize how detrimental their actions have been not only for themselves but to those around them.

This is the only time I will be discussing this situation in depth.

Now onto the questions.

I'm going to be brief with some of these because I didn't really feel like they gave much of anything new.

Q.11 Is there really no chance to start anew for wrongdoers?

Kotoko: No way. Once a beast gets a taste for human flesh, it will always come back for seconds.

From the beginning Kotoko hasn't been focused on if people can change. She has been focused on making them understand the suffering and pain they've caused. She's stated that people can't realize the severity of what they've done without first losing something themselves in her second voice drama,

"Es, look. Someone who committed a crime can only realise its severity through losing something. I've seen many criminals, but none of them would give way without pain."

Yet, this goes as far back as her first trial song.

"I’ll teach you the pain you caused. It’s a tie after saying sorry? What are you hoping for?"

Where she blatantly states that this isn't about apologizing and making amends it's about the other person experiencing the same pain as they caused. Throughout Harrow we also see that one of the people that Kotoko jumps has been held accountable by a court of law. However as we know from Kotoko's seventh second trial written interrogation question she has her doubts about the legal systems ability to properly punish sin.

So, she may not believe that a punishment handed down by judiciary is good enough in this circumstance. Especially for an individual implied to be a repeat offender. Him possibly getting a slap on the wrist for something he has a pattern of doing would probably only frustrate her more.

Especially if Kotoko was connected to the person he swindled in any way. Then that would make this situation more of a personal one.

So, let's take a look back at the articles from Harrow. For the record this is more speculative so feel free to ignore it.

I just felt there was something strange about the newspaper articles in her case. On of them is about a serial killer going around murdering young girls. Yet the others are mostly petty financially exploitative crimes that expressly take advantage of an elderly woman, moms, and bike owners.

That a pretty huge leap in severity. I wouldn't really think that much of it if it weren't for what we know about Kotoko.

Q.08  Tell us your family structure.

Kotoko: Grandmother, father, mother, older brother.

Q.08 What are your parent’s occupations?

Kotoko: They’re just the normal office worker and housewife. Did you want me to be born in with some unique circumstances?

In the translation there are two articles that stick out the most to me in reference to this information.

The one about the Bank Employee Impersonation scam where an elderly eighty year old woman was stalked and tricked into giving up a bank note for five hundred thousand yen or three thousand two hundred ninety four dollars and eight three cents in USD. The perpetrator of this crime was later identified as Mikio Oshii the person we see Kotoko jumping in Harrow and alluded to going to jump in Deep Cover.

I think it's possible and reasonable to speculate the first elderly woman that Mikio Oshii scammed was Kotoko's grandmother. Something that may have caused her to be interested in the case to begin with. I say first instead of second because it seems she was looking into it before the second case even occurred.

The second article referring to the fortieth victim of a "It's Me" Phone scam where a woman received a phone call from a man claiming to be their eldest son stating they'd been in an accident and needed money. Ultimately the man ended up scamming the woman out of a million yen. Stating that he'd been hospitalized due to the accident and needed the money he told her to deliver it to a train station which she did. That's another six thousand five hundred and eighty nine dollars and sixty-six cents gone.

Oh yeah Kotoko has an older brother and her mom is a housewife right? Huh... She implies that her family circumstances aren't unique through asking if we wanted her to be born under some unique circumstances. Yet, her life is a lot more interesting when you really look at everything laid out.

Her father is the sole earner of the household. Yet she goes to a top law university and managed to study martial arts from a young age. They're not rich like Mu's family but they're comfortably middle class at least. Yet this means a few scams like this and Kotoko's family would suddenly find it incredibly financially difficult to cover her university costs.

I asked Bunny about what her tuition costs would look like, and they stated,

Ok the amount I found for the University of Tokyo's law department was 804,000円 per year or $5298 per year

Then because I asked what the average office worker salary was.

kotoko uses the term 'kaishain' which is very generic 'office worker'/'company employee so as you said, lots of variation but this is apprently the average

If we go by ungendered average (4,610,000 yen) then its roughly $30,000 per year

Meaning the amount of money that her family members could have possibly lost for these scams is over the amount of how much one year of tuition would cost her.

"How heavy “HARROW” “HARROW” Is the damage to get in the way of someone’s dream- I’ll gouge you out with my fangs."/ "How heavy “HARROW” “HARROW” If it damaged someone’s dream to the points of stopping it- I’ll gouge you out with my fangs."

Not having the money to cover your next year is a good enough reason for anyone to take a break. Whoa Gunsli you just spent the whole first segment of this explaining that people were harping on Kotoko having trauma too much but now you're speculating-

Well, I also said I talk about the things that interest me. The fact that Kotoko's family members could have suffered from financially exploitative scams by the people she jumped. Well, that's pretty damn interesting.

Especially when we take this interaction between her and Mikoto into consideration,

20/07/01

Mikoto: Hey, hey, Koto-chan. I’ve been thinking this ever since I first heard your name, but don’t you think the names “Mikoto” and “Kotoko” kinda sound like siblings?

Kotoko: No.

Mikoto: Don’t say that! Let’s get along well from here on as the Koto-Koto combo!

Kotoko: I’m not doing that.

It's incredibly funny to me personally to imagine Kotoko possibly just disliking Mikoto because he reminds her of her actual older brother with his careless and flippant behavior. Hell one of the bikes stolen could have actually been her older brothers. Yet, this also showcases that she may hold a great importance in her family. Be it found or through blood.

Something she's consistently shown to be committed to. She's the sort to want to protect her pack is the best way to put it. I don't even know if this can be considered trauma or being incredibly unlucky. This would also explain why she's so hypervigilant around others and standoffish when it comes to the other prisoners at first.

If she's used to being in a close proximity to scammers and conman of course she'd be suspicious from jump.

20/05/30

Mahiru: Hey, Kotoko-chan. There’s something that’s really been bugging me, so do you mind if I ask? ……how do you style yourself so well? Have you always dressed like that? But it also looks like something you’d wear for training. Do you play sport? Ah, or maybe some kind of martial arts?

Kotoko: ……you really are carefree. Everyone in here is a “murderer” right? Is this really the time to be asking questions like that?

Mahiru: Hmm, I guess so. That’s what they said. But nobody here seems particularly scary or anything, right? If I had to pick someone, then maybe you’re the scariest! Ah, wait, do you do like yoga or something?

Kotoko: ……I can’t tell if you’re making fun of me or are just an airhead.

It would also fall in line with her going by Es' word because even though she doesn't really have much faith in Es just the merit of Milgram as a system. Then she may recognize she's simply a bit oblivious when it comes to the behavior of other people, knows she isn't the best judge of these things, and doesn't want the responsibility in case she's wrong. Sure she's confident that she'll know evil when she sees it but living with the what if's is a bit more difficult when it's all on you. Ultimately this is purely speculative and the people she jumped could be completely uninvolved with her.

However, the reason I doubt that is because of this line in Harrow-

"Whose fault is it, This is getting ridiculous."

We're never really told whose she's looking for and why. It's fair to assume that it was the child murderer but she continues going even after taking care of him as we see in Deep Cover. So what the fuck is this line referring to?

Plus it would make sense if she was suddenly no longer financially able to go to college anymore. Kotoko doesn't show a disinterest in law. In fact though she scrutinizes the justice system her interest in it seems genuine. She probably had an interest in cleaning it up from the inside and since being in Milgram she's shown an interest in continuing her studies repeatedly. So, if that was the dream that was stopped then it'd make sense if due to Milgram she began to believe it was possible again.

Especially since she went from blatantly stating she dropped out in her first voice drama to stating she's just on leave because there's something else she wants to do right now in her first written interrogation.

Q.07 What did you study at university?

Kotoko: Technically, I’m studying law. I’m on a break right now because there’s something else I want to do, though.

This would also fall in line with her belief that once an offender always an offender. As she would have been there to witness how some people behave even if it wasn't her who was actively victimized by them and just people close to her. Something that would tie into her very defensive response to this question,

Q.18  Have you ever personally been persecuted in the past?

Kotoko: I haven’t. But are you trying to say that if you haven’t had those experiences you can’t hate evildoers?

Plus I feel it would explain why literally outside of the child murders everything else on her board is a petty crime. This could just be a tidbit meant to mirror how Haruka works his way up from animals to people. Yet I don't think so because Kotoko goes from taking out a serial killer to jumping a conman. It's also possible that Kotoko and the serial killer are related in some way. Maybe through the hit and run.

From the beginning of Harrow Kotoko is flashing to the memorial and call for information on the hit and run. That we later find out the person she kills is speculated of being responsible for as well. If Kotoko was a witness to the hit and run in some way she would have more reason to assume the worse of this guy. She would also know the lengths that people involved with this person had gone to in order to cover up his heinous behavior and enable him.

Making it more likely for her to believe that if he wasn't taken care of then and there he'd just end up getting another slap on the wrist again. Or basically that this was the only way of handling the situation.

However outside of all that what Kotoko says here could also be a simple case of projection. Where she believes that others can't change because she thinks she can't either. Note that in her answer she moves away from her usual wording of discussing things in terms of good and evil.

Instead stating,

"No way. Once a beast gets a taste for human flesh, it will always come back for seconds."

Despite the question only asking about wrongdoers not murderers she immediately jumps there by saying once a beast gets a taste of human flesh. Kotoko also very similarly to Mikoto fears that she is the beast or monster that she's trying to fight.

Plus, her very first glitched voice line is-

"This feels so good."

Making it likely that a bit of her own self-hatred is coming through with this answer. Making me interpret it as her going I can't stop so how would they be able to.

Q.12 But aren’t 'your' actions an overstep of boundaries?

Kotoko: You were the one who chose to walk this path with me, aren’t you? I simply serve as a means to fulfill your wishes as a warden.

Remember when I said I was going to make some of these brief. I agree with Kotoko here. Like the audience supported her mindset. She put on full display she jumps criminals and she was in a place where others had already been judged as criminals. Before she was even on trial the others started showing signs of being viewed that way. I mean what can I say other than yeah the audience choose that. I didn't. I didn't vote on her first trial.

Like in the first half she's right. The second half she's lying. Like she hasn't even asked Es what they want her to do. Es is the warden. However, technically Kotoko does not consider Es to be the warden. She considers the audience to be the warden and Es to be just another prisoner being used as a proxy for the audience the real wardens. As shown through Deep Cover,

"“UNDER” Inept “011 Guard”"

And like some of the audience did want those people jumped. Hell, some celebrated them being jumped. So, like maybe we've wrapped back around to her just being right. Still I don't have much to say about this.

Q.13 Was the person you killed evil?

Kotoko: Of course. I’ve investigated to the very end and confirmed every detail. It’s easier here since you’re the one who’s deciding who gets punished.

I believe in journalist Kotoko to be unbiased and fair. She is fair and just. No one would ever wrongfully report on an event in the music videos where it's put on fully display that news outlets cannot be trusted as one's sole source of information several different ways. In a series where the voice drama of the very second prisoner discusses the pitfalls of tabloids and news shows.

I don't believe her by the way.

I believe that she believes she researched it thoroughly. However, she did just attempt to jump four people solely based on the opinion of what appears to be a middle schooler. So, who's to say. Then ended this by saying it's easier now that she has said middle schooler here to decide who gets punished.

In fairness she could be referring to the audience but we all know how much we know. So, that's hardly any better. I'd feel safer if she was making the decisions herself actually and I know she's going to jump Mikoto if she does. Maybe they would just be in constant combat like Wile E Coyote and the Road Runner. Then at least everyone else would be good.

Q.14 Don’t you feel a sense of isolation in your current situation?

Kotoko: It feels like nothing's changed. If the world gets even a little better just by me undertaking this isolation, then that is the role the strong play.

Hey, she's committed to being alone just like Mikoto is committed to that job. If the world can't change that's the world's problem you just keep doing you. Never introspect. If nothing has changed that really means the world hasn't gotten better or worse. Yet, you know maybe if you keep doing the same things over and over the outcome will change.

Also sidenote she wasn't really talking to anyone like that. Why would she mind the isolation like who does she miss. The one girl that's nice to her she put in a cast. She could go see her. Hell, she doesn't have any hard feelings about the jumping thing. She said so in her second voice drama. Kotoko does not have to be alone.

Mikoto even tried talking to her on her birthday. Shidou and Kazui tried to negotiate a ceasefire and have been since the first trial of trial two. People talk to her! Plus, they aren't really rude when she comes up and talks to them.

Literally everyone is over here like,

Kazui: Come join us in sin Kotoko.

Mikoto: Yeah come in the sin is fine~ Koto-koto duo!

Yuno: Come on a little sin never hurts- Do it just smile.

Mahiru: We're not so different- We could all get along if we try. Let's have fun!

Kotoko: ... (They’re still here, still here, it grates me.)

In Kotoko vision meanwhile they're all here in actuality like,

Yuno: Does she like want something?

Mahiru: Maybe she feels bad about what she did.

Shidou: ... Possibly. (Shiina is so hopeful. Though why is Yuzuriha-kun making growling noises...)

Kotoko: Sinful...all of them.

Amane: ???

Kazui and Mikoto aren't even here she's just still mad about them interfering.

Q.15 Tell us the details of your promise with Haruka.

Kotoko: Looks like you’ve done your research. Well, it’s something I won’t go forward with myself. I do feel a bit disappointed about it though.

Look I've been writing this for two days and if I don't finish before her next question drops, I'm going to feel obligated to add that too. So, no lead up with this one.

The way this question is phrased heavily implies exactly what Haruka will be doing over the course of the intermission. Which will be killing our favorite good girl,

Yuno Kashiki.

Or at least attempting to. Kotoko expressly states that what Haruka is doing is something she wouldn't go forward with herself. The thing that Kotoko has taken a hard stance against is attacking the innocent or forgiven.

Something that Kotoko has repeatedly stated herself that she would not do,

Specifically in these instances.

22/08/05 (Kazui’s Birthday)

Kotoko: ……Mukuhara Kazui. Thanks to you, I wasn’t able to properly serve justice to those who did something unforgivable. I’m currently acting as an agent for our prison guard Es. Don’t get in my way next time.

Kazui: Oi oi, don’t be silly, Yuzuriha-chan. There’s no way I could just look away from your outrageous display of violence. Anyway, even disregarding the fact violence against those voted guilty isn’t a part of Milgram’s system, what you’re doing is just acting recklessly based on a broad interpretation. As long as I’m free myself, I’ll stop you.

Kotoko: ……what a pointless argument. Hmph. Since Es forgives you, I have no choice but to forgive you myself too. If you're to keep to your word, then you’d best do what you can to keep being forgiven. If you’re not, then next time you’ll be one of my targets.

Kazui: Oh, how scary. That girl truly is frightening. ……well then, I wonder what the guard will decide to do with me. That’s the one thing I really can’t make out. Honestly……

"Hurting the innocent through violence, taking from others, killing people... I can't stand it at all! There are too many cases of The Law being unable to deliver a verdict to sinning. Just by exploiting loopholes in the law, the sinners who have bullied and tortured the weak can still live out their lives unpunished! I want to change this world but I alone only have so much power!"

Q.20 What do you consider “evil”?

Kotoko: The persecution of the weak and innocent.

That's Kotoko's hard line she's not going to attack people who have been deemed innocent. Because she genuinely believes the persecution of the weak and innocent is wrong. We don't have to worry about Haruka attacking Amane because Kotoko said he's going to do something she wouldn't which she admitted she would have done that,

"Ah, about that... My apologies. I couldn't give enough pain to Kayano Mikoto and Momose Amane."

..! You..!

"I attacked everyone in order, but because of the interference caused by Kayano Mikoto and Mukuhara Kazui, who was protecting Kajiyama Fuuta, I couldn't finish it properly. But I was still able to do some damage. After attacking Shiina Mahiru, I had no time left for Momose Amane."

You've planned... on attacking Amane too?

"That's right. You haven't forgiven her, so wouldn't it be justified?"

But she's just a child...

"So what? This "child" is kept here because she murdered a person, isn't she?"

Right...

"You thought I won't attack her because of the young age? Sorry for disappointing you. It's all because of my lack of strength."

Whether Kotoko behaves this way because she genuinely believes hurting the innocent and weak is wrong or because she wants her actions to be justifiable in the eyes of the law is completely secondary. The point is this in fact tells us what Haruka is going to do through the process of elimination. We know all the things Kotoko would do and one thing that she wouldn't.

She basically just tells us without telling us. Now one could debate that Kotoko wouldn't harm herself either. So, that could still be all Haruka is going to do. Yeah, that'd be reasonable but there's also foreshadowing of him being jealous of Yuno and under the belief that she is the audiences favorite out of their pair.

Or the one who wound up getting the most attention. Including parallels between their trial two songs.

I just want to be your good boy-I will keep on killing to be a good boy/Caressing me with your “Good girl”- Who needs your self-righteous pardon?

Like she has what he wants and he bluntly states in his second trial interrogation-

Q.20 Did you hate the person you killed?

Haruka: I wonder if I did. I was jealous of them.

Man I doubt Haruka would be jealous of the person who is right after him who has been innocent twice. It's not like he was already upset about the idea that the audience and Es would change his verdict this trial.

Meanwhile Yuno is over here like,

Yuno: They keep telling me what a good girl I am. How I've never done anything wrong and never could. Who needs that type of half-assed shit.

Haruka: *collapsed on the ground trying to reach a blunt object struggling for air* (It could have been me! I wanted to be the good one- I've been the good one! I've been practicing better communication and everything- She doesn't even want it!)

Yuno: Like really who do these people think they are? Who needs words like those filled to the brim with self-righteousness and demeaning assumptions. They're all so gross can't they just disappear. Innocent- Ugh, like shut up already nobody even asked for your opinion.

Haruka: *sustaining psychic damage on the ground sobbing* (SHE DOESN'T EVEN WANT IT SHE DOESN'T KNOW HOW GOOD SHE HAS IT!)

Though he could end up attacking any of the innocent prisoners. It doesn't have to be Yuno. So thanks for telling us it's at least something you wouldn't do yourself that really narrows it down. It's either that or he's attacking Shidou or Kazui. Though Haruka does specify he can kill anything smaller than him in his second voice drama and Yuno fits the description best out of those who have been consistently innocent.

Q.16 Do you think there are the ‘weak’ among the other prisoners?

Kotoko: I’m sure there’s a lot. Those with weak wills will easily turn to evil. The only thing we can do is firmly instill the risk of turning to it.

So, the way this question was translated confused me and I ended up asking @doctorbunny what exactly was going on with it. This is what he said.

囚人の中に弱者いると思うか？ shuujin no naka ni (Amongst the prisoners) jakusha iru (there are weak people/'the weak') to omou ka? (do you think) aka Do you think any of the prisoners are weaklings?

A few questions ago Kotoko considered herself to be 強者/kyousha/a strong person

Q.14 Don’t you feel a sense of isolation in your current situation?

Kotoko: It feels like nothings changed. If the world gets even a little better just by me undertaking this isolation, then that is the role the strong play.

This was the conclusion from this exchange based on the answer provided.

Given that Kotoko stated she was sure there are a lot of weaklings amongst the prisoners. Then choose to elaborate stating that those with weak wills easily turn to evil. Causing the only thing we (in this case being Es and her the strong as she stated herself to be earlier in this interrogation) can only firmly instill the risk of turning to it.

This can only imply one thing that she punishes weaklings as well if they are at risk of turning to evil. Because she blatantly states that there are weaklings here within the prison and in her second trial song tells blatantly states that them still being here grates her and implies she'd like them to guilty. So, she recognizes they're weak and states that as why they turn to evil as well. So she's just saying the weak can be evil and deserve to be punished like anyone else to be dissuaded from doing evil.

People needing to be dissuaded from doing evil is a belief she was open about in her second voice drama Yonah.

"Es, look. Someone who committed a crime can only realise its severity through losing something. I've seen many criminals, but none of them would give way without pain." - "When a person who killed someone is met with violence, it's called "karmic retribution". Don't you have such a feeling?"

"If you sin, You need to do more than be atoned. It’s karma dude!"

This answer serves to further contextualize her second trial glitched voice line as well,

"From the beginning I've never asked for your understanding! My actions, one by one, are bringing Earth closer to peace. Useless Weaklings should just shut up and let me protect them!"

Kotoko basically came out and said the quiet part out loud. That she attacks weaklings too. At least if they're at risk of turning to evil or to dissuade them from it. Still given the phrasing of the question was difficult for me to grasp and I genuinely couldn't believe she would just say that I asked him to look into the answer too.

Again sorry Bunny for the inconvenience. At first, he came back with this,

たくさんいるでしょうね。takusan iru deshou ne. = There's a lot, [of prisoners who are weaklings] aren't there. 弱いではあぐ悪に転ぶ 。Yowai dewa agu(?) aku ni korobu. = 悪に転ぶリスクを不直え(??)付けるしかない。aku ni korobu risuku wo fu naoe tsukeru shikanai.

But ended up having to ask another party for help. Then came back with this later on.

OK so 囚人の中に弱者いると思うか？- shuujin no naka ni jakusha iru to omou ka? - Do you think any of the prisoners are weaklings? たくさんいるでしょうね。- takusan iru deshou ne - A lot of them are, aren't they. 弱い心はすぐ悪に転ぶ 。yowai kokoro wa sugu aku ni korobu - [people with] Weak minds/spirits readily turn to evil. 悪に転ぶリスクを植え付けるしかない - aku ni korobu risuku wo uetsukeru shikanai. - I have no choice but to instil the risks of turning to evil Weak one of these www

So, that's the full breakdown of that.

Personally, I'd interpret the question and answer this way given all this-

Q.16 Do you think there are weak people amongst the prisoners?

Kotoko: A lot of them are, aren't they? Weak minds easily turn to doing evil. I have no choice but to instill the risks of resorting to such things.

So, she is bluntly stating that she reprimands the weak too in order to make sure that they resort to evil as well. Which, um I've been bringing up this line a lot but- Here it goes again.

"From the beginning I've never asked for your understanding! My actions, one by one, are bringing Earth closer to peace. Useless Weaklings should just shut up and let me protect them!"

So, it's not this is even new either. She'll punish the weak too. Why else would she be yelling this at someone she considers a weakling? This isn't really a friendly thing to yell and she didn't sound friendly when she yelled it either. I'm glad she established that with very little prompting... The second statement didn't even pertain to the fucking question. She just added that second part on. Kotoko I said this for Mikoto before his trial but girl shut the fuck up. Learn to lie by omission better and on paper. You did not have to fucking write that girl you didn't specify what the fuck Haruka was planning you were pretty vague then.

Why didn't you keep that fucking energy? Nobody fucking asked for an elaboration. You could have kept it to a simple yeah some people here are weak. Listen not everything has to be more than one sentence start leaving shit blank, start scribbling on the page.

(Star here- I think she's trying to be personable in a similar way to how she's tried with Es in both her voice dramas. However, not only is it detrimental to her case as a whole, it also gives off a way different vibe when written down instead of spoken.)

What Star typed is incredibly fair. I Just find it a bit funny because Kotoko that wasn't the question. You didn't have to add that. All I can say is at least Kotoko tends to be honest. Sometimes too honest if she really doesn't think the topic of discussion or her beliefs on it are a problem. I'm just a bit flabbergasted. Like why I don't understand. Why say that?

I just... Do I really have to say anything else about this it kind of speaks for itself. Well that's really all I have to say on that situation and these questions. So, yeah if you made it this far thanks for reading this to the end. These are just my thoughts on this and I hope that even if you don't like them some of what's here can at least help you understand where I'm coming from.

[ofmays]

⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ❍﹒𝙼𝙰𝚈 𝚂𝙰𝙸𝙻𝙴𝙴. history major &&; stereotypical brooding bookworm : house pulgasari's vice captain with an expertise in BLOOD MANIPULATION and RBF. . . he also really loves tchaikovsky and wine ( ONLY RED !! ) and will one hundred percent talk your ears off about the rise and fall of marie-antoinette &&; the roman empire — the roman empire IS his roman empire !!

hi everyone !! really excited to get to writing with everyone and learn about your muses all the more !! i'm finn ( he/they, 24 ) & i'll be writing MAY while staying here !! here are some direct links to may's PROFILE, his ANOMALY and his unfinished PLOTS page that i'll definitely get to in due time !! ( here's a quick rules page too for reference !! ) below this i'll leave a tldr on his background and ability, feel free to like this post if you're interested in plotting, but be warned that i'm going to be messaging each and every one of you anyways !! :3c

tw: small mention of blood/animal death !! i tried to be as brief as possible so apologies for the word vomit fr...

⠀ ❍﹒ current : brief about may as of now !!

may "kwanchai" sailee — don't call him kwanchai though...nobody does... !! currently 25 and is a taurus sun, cap moon and sag rising to anyone who knows what that means !! he is currently on his post-graduate year of history and is house pulgasari's vice captain (its very srs to him ok ??) he's known to be a hermit and keep to himself, mostly tucked away in corners of the library or campus. he love love LOVES classical music and what he studies, don't ask him about his interests or he won't shut up !! oh, and definitely don't ask him about his anomaly or he'll try to k*ll you with his brain . . .

⠀ ❍﹒ background : he doesn’t really have a tragic backstory tbh…all of his current problems stem from his distaste for his anomaly and what kind of person it makes him !! below i’ve left some trivia points i guess ?? just to get to know him better !!

— may is born to two loving parents in bangkok, thailand as their first son, a product of their pre-arranged marriage. he has one older sister and one younger sister. although his parents would disagree, he’s incredibly spoiled by them and is their secret favorite child (for some reason…) they are incredibly wealthy due to may's father's involvement in the fuel industry.

— throughout his youth, he attended only the best of the best schools and after school activities. he picked up ballet at a young age and excelled at it along with his studies. he still loves ballet to this day, but is far too dedicated to his current major: history, to pick it back up. he settles on watching drama rehearsals for now. a certain hamlet is just way too eye catching for him to look away…

— he learned of his anomaly at age eleven when a mouse was caught in a trap at home. he didn’t like seeing the mouse in distress, it evoked something in him, and the next thing he knows he’s directing blood back into its wound, steady, steady…until the pressure became too much and he near explodes the creature in his palm, killing it. since then he’s had a distaste for his ability and only uses it on himself.

— blood based anomalies run in his family, and while may has never been shamed for his ability, he was instructed throughout his life to keep it a secret while he attended high ranking schools. little did may know that it would prove to be incredibly difficult to keep his ability to himself due to his blood empathy, and soon enough his parents realized that it wouldn't be easy to hide it. in search of answers they found nuvilli, a drug currently in production. along with providing generous donations to the drug itself, and later to seoul university for anomalies, may was admitted to the university on the base of a scholarship, but to anyone else he basically paid his way in.

— may is extreeeemely anti-social...like really anti-social, and it's mostly to protect his own mental health with his blood empathy, nothing personal !! (most of the time) he gets a bad reputation for his overall attitude and anomaly; most would see him as intimidating(? or something similar!) and weird. he's actually really sweet under it all though, he has a lot of love and care to give !!

— being the vice captain of pulgasari is like a full time job to him /srs. he seemingly becomes a whole new person while taking part in games and meetings; entirely more confident. it's the only time he actually gets to show off his anomaly without feeling like a freak for it !! he's known to be pretty involved on field during games-- he's kiiind of an ace but he definitely won't say that about himself . . .

❍﹒ anomaly : a brief breakdown !!

may has a blood manipulation ability, he can use it for blood-bending and blood links, and suffers from blood empathy as a by product. he can only use blood for bending (from himself and from others) when it is visible. he's kinda really ashamed of his anomaly and doesn't talk about it a lot or use it :/ his main weaknesses are sight proximity and water !!

❍﹒ plots : a few quick ones i just thought of rn !!

— tutor may where may tutors your muse and helps them with school work ?? he's very studious and likes to help others when it comes to school work !! he also has a lot of extra time to himself due to being in his post-graduate year of uni !! (less days for a whooole lot more work to do) this is one of those plots where may will actually force himself to be social . . . — house pulgasari members plz plz plz !! self explanatory but maybe they get to see a different more confident side of may !! — his one and only sole ex that ruined his mental for months after they broke up because he swore he wouldn't get into a relationship for that EXACT REASON but he did it anyways and it went way worse than he could have ever anticipated !! both of them probably sucked like it was bad for both parties . . . — people who also live in the yellow hall !! self explanatory again >< — those who are in different houses than house pulgasari...they probably don't like may and may doesn't like them either...a fun competitive plot :3c — overall just people that get on may's nerves and visa-versa !! he has a very short temper and doesn't have a lot of patience for people, this paired with his anti-socialness does NOT make him the most pleasant person to be around on a surface level fdghdf

ok shutting up for now but if you have any ideas for plots please do not hold back, may is very dependent on them for connections !!

[horizon-verizon]

Targ stans are okay with the Targs being white haired bloodthirsty dragon demons burning any one who doesn’t submit to them, but apparently the Hightowers can’t be ambitious too and try to take more power. It’s clear that y’all Targ stans just expect the Westerosi to be loyal dutiful servants of the Targs instead of trying to take some more power for themselves. Why is it okay for the Targs to conquer and kill but not okay for the Hightowers to want their blood to rule. They’re not even trying to usurp the throne and establish a Hightower dynasty. Aegon is still a Targaryen. They just want Aegon to be king because he has Hightower blood. I don’t see what’s so evil about that.

You clearly know nothing about feudalism or thought deeply about the lore and characterizations of the canon story. 

Or you’re just racist, classist, misogynist, etc.

Alicent Trying to Negotiate with Rhaenyra (Alicent’s Blood Purity)

Alicent Hightower (not a Targ) suggesting to Aegon II to mutilate Aegon III (a 10 year old)

Alicent as Queen Consort, Second wives in the Feudal Era, and her Duties as a Queen Consort (and all the reblogs of it)

More Posts against You (those I didn't write; various other users):

ONE -- “As I have always said, the Targaryens are NOT colonizers. The Targaryens are conquerors yes, but they did not colonize nor did they commit genocide”

TWO -- “The Targaryens being so popular in the fandom is something I will never understand.”

THREE -- “The tradcaths/tradwives Hightowers, the equivalent of the Catholic church/Vatican, would reform something ??”

FOUR --  “that hill’s alive person screaming about the targaryen’s being colonizers while being a zionist is literally”

FIVE -- “It’s really funny to me how Targ antis act like the noble houses that used to rule Westeros as Kings are somehow poor little victims of the Targaryens”

SIX -- “Feminist Heroine vs Feminist Narrative: the Case of Rhaenyra Targaryen”

SEVEN -- “There is a current argument (or rather “emphasis”) that Rhaenyra did a very stupid thing to have illegitimate children and make it easier for her enemies (in general) to use it as pretext for attacking her or usurping her.”

EIGHT -- “The Westerosi nobles gave the Targaryens chance after chance even after they were in their most weakened and awful state, the reign of Aerys II.”

NINE -- “I often wonder how many ASOIAF readers have read Fevre Dream.”

TEN -- “So now Dany antis are using the “Wars were won with gold as much as swords” line as their “proof” that Dany is “profiting off slavery” and using the money for her war in Westeros.”

ELEVEN -- “Something that irks me about Green stans is that they tell us Black stans “not to judge the story with modern standards,” but then they judge it with modern standards when it’s convenient, like to victimize Alicent by calling her a child bride, when in Westeros Alicent would not be viewed in that way. So basically, they want us to accept the patriarchy because “That’s just the way things are in Westeros.” While at the same time excusing Alicent by viewing her with modern standards. It’s extremely hypocritical. It’s also disturbing how much these Alicent stans want the character to be defined by nothing but her victimhood. They don’t want her to have any real agency.”

TWELVE -- “Besides the fact that it is only Alicent and the Greens protesting Rhaenya’s children’s existence and status (literally no one else cared enough)”

THIRTEEN -- “House of The Dragon - who is the true ‘victim of patriarchy’?”

FOURTEEN -- “Rhaenyra Lying to Alicent vs Aemond Claiming Vhagar [HotD]”

FIFTEEN -- “A “bastard” is understood a person born to parents who weren’t married to each other, yes?”

[pabst-belikov]

This whole thing is inspired in a post created by: @fizzigigsimmer

Hello world, about the people (antis) who got zero critical thinking skills and have to be spoon feed bc 'the writers say so', I got something to say.

They actually can think, and that's surprising, their behavior looks like a toddler that was bad educated by their parents. But anyway, they can not just think, they actually can create a new whole story for someone with NOTHING AT ALL.

A trait in common with antis that say "billy bad deserved to die boohoo" is, they love Eddie. Not hate to Eddie, I like him too much for the exact same reason I like billy. But, there's three interesting things about antis that evolve Eddie, that are at least, corious:

1. They erase billy completely like he never existed BUT, they put his whole personality on Eddie 🤠🤡

2. They try REALLY HARD make steddie something real with a total of 0.1 proves

3. They assume stuff for no reason.

³. Well, Steve parents and all. Everyone assume that they are like super abusive, and even they are not showed, people hate them. And like op said, they never home and they could be neglecting Steve, is an kind of abuse, but also, they could be just parents of a teeneger who were (and maybe still being) spoiled his whole life. Steve was a bully preppy boy, is not a possibility he just treat his parents badly? And yeah he changed, but changes takes time and convince your parents that you changed also takes time. Idk man, I'm just trying to say, we don't know them. They were never shown or talked about enough to take notes in a such fixed way. Also, Billy, they assume things about billy, that just, is not there. "yeah he probably would be homophobic, he would bully Eddie, he would kill the kids, he would, and if, if, if..." they don't even try to prove their points, or when they dare to make their brain work, is just a poor explanation.

Like, you can see, especially here and on that shittiest app ever created (tikt0k) that people created a whole tragic lore to Eddie. Is not a surprise that writers like to write sad stuff about their fav characters, but is not a fanfic, is not a theory, they claim what they say like Canon. I swear, I saw someone on tiktok showing "proves" that Eddie was depressed and suicidal. Yk, I just-

². I don't dislike the steddie thing, I think Steve need to kiss at least one man till the end of the season, also, I think they could make them kinda romantic too, but they didn't, nothing happened. Even Joe keery was asked about it, and even he didn't think they could be this one true perfect pairing.

¹. Do I need to bring up the fanarts of Eddie like a mechanic? Like a car lover? Do I need to?

And about ignoring things and "I belive that bc the writers says so", we saw mostly of the parents of everyone. I think we can say that we don't like Lonnie and Brenner for the same reason: They abused their kids.

Guess who parent, especially a dad, antis pretend not to see and maybe even say that his was right for everything that he did?

Antis HATE more Steve parents that were never shown, than Neil, that were shown several times doing awful stuff with his ex wife and his kid.

Also, a warning for you dumbass who love El but don't like billy: If u say that u don't like billy bc he's violent, he don't communicate, or any kind of shit like that, you don't like eleven, bc they are basically the same.

I already say this once and I'm gonna say again: everyday I wake up, see billy hargrove situation, and I make this everyone's problem.

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

A couple of months ago I started Mark Watson’s novel Eleven, and then, to be honest, I got distracted by a bunch of Daniel Kitson stuff. Which I feel a bit bad about, because based on a number of off-handed half-joking comments he’s made, I think Mark Watson has sort of spent his entire career being afraid that would happen. My apologies to Mark Watson on that one; it’s an unfortunate fact that we can’t all be Daniel Kitson, and the one person who does get to isn’t even enjoying it. But Mark has his share of advantages; Daniel Kitson could not do a show that would last 24+ hours, or organize an entire online festival in the name of making comedy accessible (quite the opposite, in fact, and I am genuinely grateful to Mark Watson for taking the anti-Kitsonian stance on comedy’s accessibility).

I almost wrote that Daniel Kitson couldn’t write this novel, but actually I think he almost could, and I mean that very much as a compliment. The layers of interconnection. The jumping around between timelines and perspectives to make you gather up the story in seemingly disparate pieces, making it all the more satisfying when they fall into place and you can look at the whole puzzle. The messages about community and overlapping lives and people affecting each other through proximity. The overexplanations of consequences and meaning. Daniel Kitson probably wouldn’t have written the character whose prominent stutter was one of several traits that emphasized why he was such a pitiful figure, but other than that, it turns out the themes that make me drop whatever else I’m doing for a Daniel Kitson recording were in this novel all along.

I’m at my parents’ place for Christmas at the moment, and finally sat down long enough to finish the book. I read the first 150 pages a little at a time over several weeks, and the last 150 pages in about a day. The pace really picked up in the second half, as the network of connections got bigger and more complicated, and some of the treads started tying together. I love watching threads tie together.

I wrote a post just after starting the book that said I was immediately struck by how the writing style reminds you, almost every word, that this author studied literature at Cambridge. “Oxbridge” is an adjective that’s almost never used positively, and rightly so in many ways, but a novel is the appropriate place for someone to show off how well they can pick out words and put them together, so it’s a good thing this time.

It's so nicely written, the details all picked out carefully. Certain things get described in unusually flowery terms, like one character’s Geordie accent, and I liked that. Overemphasis on little things made it feel like it was written from a closer perspective, following the main character in the specific things he notices.

I first got this book along with Frankie Boyle’s novel (which I’ve only just started, after finishing the Mark Watson one), and when I first got them, I posted something silly about getting novels from two authors who have some deep-down fundamental similarities but are diametrically opposed in many ways. You know, one of my attempts to fit real life into the sort of nicely woven narrative that gets written about by Mark Watson and Daniel Kitson. I compared the quotes on the cover; the Mark Watson book used one that called it “gentle, compassionate, unusual, and thought-provoking”, while the Frankie Boyle one got called “a twisted Caledonian take on Altman’s The Long Goodbye”. Contrasting adjectives that might tell you something about the authors behind them, I thought.

That’s relevant to how the book turned out, because, like with Mark Watson’s comedy, it ended up going darker than its fairly soft and easygoing surface suggested. I often think about a comment Mark Watson made on a podcast once, about wishing he had a better “killer instinct” in his stand-up routines, being willing to stay in the tough subject matter he takes on instead of undercutting it. This book backed off from that a little bit; an author who was more confident in their killer instincts might have written a few parts of this book more intensely (that author could just be a more recent version of Mark Watson, I think he’s developed that skill much more in the last few years). However, there were several parts of Eleven that didn’t back off at all, went every bit as dark as Frankie Boyle or Daniel Kitson or anyone else would have, and it was done with all the care and skill that Mark Watson puts into everything else. It felt like an overall very good book with flashes of more intense brilliance.

The characters felt so much like real people, the settings felt like places I know, the situations and choices felt realistic. I don’t want to spoil it, but I’ll say the mysteries that drew me in did end up with satisfyingly interesting answers. My overall rating is reducing complex and subjective works of art to numerical value is fucking pointless, but this was a damn good book that I should have finished sooner.

[coolchainsawlord]

Posted this on my xitter but thats more of my zen mountain shitpost area than anything else so i never really went into this

This is during that war apokolips arc where everyone is getting drafted left and right. So yj are getting dragged through time to fight some bad guy who is actually two, but that doesnt Really Matter Right Now. But anyways, at one of the places in time, they all see a future reality where they're all adults in the justice league... except for one person. Three guesses who and the first two don't count.

I think it is very interesting how the writing team chose (italics) bart (italics) to die. Obviously, he was the easiest to kill off because technically, no, they didn't, but also it's interesting thematically. There is bizarrely a lot of death and death related themes in yj... y'know for a more light hearted series. Cissie quitting heroing because she's afraid she might hurt someone (which is such a watered down version of events, but it is ELEVEN AT NIGHT.) Anita and the anti-life equation, Kon and his death... thing, Greta, Slobo being the only one of the Lobo clones to survive Apokolips... and then there's Bart.

In yj he never really had anything like the others. No peter pan moments, no magic psychopomp glittery bs, he was just kinda the funnyman. But in Impulse there was a bit of it I Would Argue. I mean, hell, he was dying in his very first introduction. Come henth forth Wally, and free my son. Or somthing. Then there's the speed force stuff with Max... and yeah.

While I think in yj this story more had themes of death, and, y'know, war. Obviously. The Impulse tie-in story had more to do with loss thematically, since that has more to do with the overall.

But also it's like midnight so lmfai

[gins-potter]

Doesn’t matter how many times I rewatch season 2 El hating Max for no reason will never sit right with me.

[balanceoflightanddark]

I have a bit of a confession to make. An actual confession this time actually.

I...am a Zuko anti.

I know, it seems odd. I only talked about him directly the one time during my Last Agni Kai post and indirectly during my comic posts. So I'm not going directly out of my way to attack him or anything. And I do understand that he is a popular character that has touched countless of people, so I do need to give him credit for that.

The problem I have with Zuko though is...complicated.

I'll admit, I was kind of neutral to him during the show popular. Knew he was gonna be redeemed eventually, would fight Azula eventually and "win", and knew he was going to be the new Fire Lord to bring about an end to the War. I got that. I think all viewers got that. Though I never really built that much of a connection to the character since I related more to some of the others (Aang, Katara, and Azula come to mind), and I was annoyed that he got away with some of the stuff he pulled during Book 1 and some overall problems with his arc that were left unaddressed, but accepted he was in a good position to do better and mend bridges and all that by series end. That I have no problem with.

My issues came around when the comics were released.

To put it simply, Zuko's flaws were jacked up to eleven. His arrogance and hotheadedness that got him into trouble during Book 1 came back. Now, this alone isn't a problem. Not saying one can't backslide into old habits. The problem comes about when the narrative doesn't acknowledge it. He's supposed to be a good guy now. On the right side, yet he's still doing the same villainous things over and over again. And for some reason, the Gaang doesn't call him out on any of it. That alone is an issue.

Then...there's his relationship with Azula.

Remember how I said there was some problems they left unaddressed? Zuko's rivalry with Azula was one of them. I'm convinced that the more he pursues this rivalry, the more toxic and awful of a person he becomes. Especially since Azula was not Zuko's abuser. That would be Ozai, the one who scarred his face after all. And I wasn't entirely convinced that the Last Agni Kai was his redeeming moment where he showed compassion towards Azula at the last shot. Again...was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.

Then the comics quashed that.

He became an abusive jackass that physically assaults Azula with very little provocation, allows his friends to harass and provoke her into violence, and blames it all on her when she inevitably snaps. And the narrative supports him.

I...have autism. I have what many would consider to be a mental disability. I know what it's like to have a breakdown. To feel like a burden on my family whether underserved or not. And for a long time I was terrified of coming out because there is a stigma towards mental illness.

So when I see pages like this:

...the comics made me despise Zuko for a long ass time. And we're talking years.

Next thing you know I'm convinced that Zuko was doomed to be his father. To be the next Ozai. And I was so convinced, I started seeing only the worst in him. The monster. How every action he took was just proof that he'd never change and he'd be nothing more than a monster worse than his sister. And how fundamentally broken the narrative was for making excuses for him which genuinely affected my enjoyment of the show.

Cause shit like that? ...I saw myself a lot in Azula, and that made me hate Zuko on a very personal level. To the point I seriously considered writing fics where he'd get butchered just out of spite. It was that. Bad.

Comics!Zuko felt like everything I stood against. And soon everything around him became difficult to even look at. Cause how in the Nine Circles of Hell would anyone see this asshole as a beloved hero?

So why am I telling you guys this? Why tell you I once hated Zuko so bad I genuinely wanted to see him dead?

Easy...I don't want to hate him anymore.

Cause it's unfair both to the character and the fans who do like him. That do accept his flaws and want to see him overcome them. I respect those people and all the more power to them.

And as much as I love Azula, I don't want to harp on Zuko anymore. Even if his most diehard fans want me to tear my hair out, I don't want that spilling over to the character himself. Honestly, I think even he'd be disgusted by their attitude. Since tearing Azula down to make himself look good is...well it's the same as tearing him down to make Azula look good.

Again, I still have a grudge against Zuko, but I'm not asking for sympathy. I'm just giving my two cents and throwing it in the ring. Feel free to unfollow me if you want, that's fine. I figured you guys deserved to know going forward.

And I do hope this post is a step in the right direction at least.

[strangertheories]

Now that Mike finally said I love you to El, what do you think is next for the pairing

I'm going to talk about how they could write it in S5 in three categories: Byler, no Byler but Mileven break up and Mileven endgame. A few thing beforehand; I'm not a writer so apologies if this is actually awful, I'm also biased against Mileven plus I'm pro-Byler and that might come through, although I'm not censoring the ship because this isn't an anti Mileven post. It's a discussion of the different directions they could go in in S5 and the best case scenario in each of those situations. So please don't skip this just because it talks about a ship you dislike being canon! This is a theory account first and foremost so I'm going to say what I think could reasonably happen instead of just saying what I want to happen.

So where have we left off Mileven? At the end of S4, Mike and Eleven are still together and Mike has been able to confess his feelings for her. However, they aren't really talking very much after the love confession. Why is this the case? Firstly, Eleven could just be feeling depressed after Max 'dying' and Vecna winning and so is pushing Mike away. Secondly, after losing Max, Eleven is too afraid to 'need' anyone in case something happens to them so she's trying to not have to rely on Mike encouraging her in the future. Or thirdly, Eleven has moved on from her relationship with Mike and was planning on breaking up with him. If Mileven endgame happens, I think the first or second possibility is most likely. If there is a Mileven break up, I think the second or third would be more likely, especially the third in the case of Byler as it wouldn't make Eleven as sad.

Now I'll talk about where this could go in S5. First of all, Mileven endgame. After the end of S4, it wouldn't be focused on them for a little bit and then before the time skip, they'd have a talk about the distance in their relationship. Eleven would say she still loves Mike but she needs a bit of space at the moment to become more independent. Or she might fake not liking Mike so he would move on without her as she's scared Vecna will target him next. After the time skip, they'd be 16/17 and Eleven would be happy on her own and they'd been not properly dating during that time. She's had some time to figure out who she is, but after all of this time she knows that she wants to be with Mike.

We could later have an olive branch moment as a throwback to S3 and then Mike would say "I always waited for you" or something like that and then they'd get together. I do think they're both at risk for death so if they're together that could add an extra layer of sadness. That plotline tries to solve my problems with Mileven which is how I feel like Eleven needs to have a period of self discovery like when she was broken up with Mike in S3, that their relationship feels kind of immature and that they were distant at the end of S4 (an intentional issue in their relationship). On the other hand, they could work through the argument and just be cute all season which I also wouldn't mind if it was well written (S3 Lumax vibes).

Ok, next possibility; a Mileven break up. I think it would be a similar timing as in early on before the time skip. Mike would say that she can't just keep ignoring him and they have to talk. And then Eleven will say that she might not have beaten Vecna if it wasn't for him and she can't rely on him to win because that means if he gets hurt then she'll lose. She'll say she no longer needs him and she wants to break up. And then Mike will say "But I thought you needed me?" or "What about the painting?" or something like that which would lead to Mike realizing Will liked him. And in this non-Byler scenario, Mike would then turn down Will politely and I think he'd still be good friends with Eleven. If neither of them die, maybe they'd hint at them rekindling their relationship at the end of the show.

And this brings me on to the Byler possibility. In the script for the van scene, Mike says he could see Eleven didn't need him anymore. In the last letter to him, she wrote from instead of love. And at the end of the season, Eleven stands in front of Mike demonstrating she's moved on. In this scenario, Mike would only stay with Eleven because he thought she needed him but after the break up, he realized that it wasn't Eleven who needed him; it was Will. When Eleven left Mike behind, who was Mike standing with? Will again.

So in this scenario we'd know before the time skip that Mike knew Will had feelings for him and that he'd broken up with Eleven. This was give Mike more time to think about Will over the time skip and to come to terms with his feelings so now at this point it's more of a will they won't they scenario. If they got together, Mike or Will would tell Eleven or the group and I think Mike and Eleven's relationship would end up being close platonically but romantically dead. I don't think she'd be bitter or jealous as she'd have been single for two years by this point.

I don't really know which is most likely, I do think they'll have a split at some point in the season as there's tension in their relationship at the end of S4 that seems like it wouldn't be there if they were just going to be happy together with no problems. Whilst I want Byler endgame, I do hope that if Mileven is endgame that it is well written and more mature and I wish all shippers the best of luck! (: Sorry this post was so late anon, it was malfunctioning when Tumblr went down last night and I was busy all day so couldn't fix it. Thanks for the ask!

[beepboop358]

I’m actually really happy but also really sad about what happened today ( the teaser and episode titles ) because it looks sooo cool but summer release date makes absolutely no sense ( cause the season takes place in March ) besides that I also kinda lost hope in byler being endgame cause the official stranger things accounts are hyping mileven up so much . What do you think about all the stuff we got today ? :) <3

Hi anon! Hope your well!

I'm really excited about what we got today too! And superrrr bummed about the summer release date AGH that means 3 full years between seasons...wow 😮

I'm hoping that they aren't just messing with us and making us wait, and that there is actually CGI/editing that needs to be done that can't be finished before summer for whatever reason, and that's why it will be released so late :(

Don't lose hope in byler being endgame my friend!! I have tons of posts on my blog in my byler things section that can reassure you and there are so many great byler evidence posts out there on other's blogs too!

I briefly went through the ST twitter account to see what mileven study they are re-tweeting since another anon actually mentioned it too.

If anything these tweets call out Mileven more than hype them up!

It isn't so much hyping up as just, acknowledging mileven has existed. And Byler is going to be a huge turning point in the show, so I'm not surprised they are re-tweeting some mileven things, it's not like they can ignore mileven has ever happened, because it did, and Mike and El do care for each other, they just aren't romantically in love with each other. They are still friends and love each other platonically!

Here's some examples of the tweets:

they’re messing with us lol

El doesn't actually say I love you to Mike in the letter. And besides the whole open closet and "this way" sign pointing to it, and the wife beater top, I mean C'mon... LOL

And this tweet:

Check out @kaypeace21's post here about the strawberry shirt El is wearing and how it hints to mileven not being endgame, and the wife beater top again in this pic ;) aha... This tweet itself is just anti-mileven and the person doesn't even realize it LOL

Mike's fake heterosexual shirt and Eleven's strawberry shirt (which 'strawberry is shit' - from Kaypeace21's food analysis) AHAHA

Also this one:

just basically acknowledging Mileven has existed and they were younger once, not really pro-mileven

And these 2:

I mean... the trailer is largely Eleven based and these are direct parallels to other seasons that are INTENTIONAl.

El and Mike are close, he was the first person to treat her like a human being and not like a test subject, of course she's going to call/write to him, she's very attached to him.

And Mike's ghostbusters costume while he talks to El in s2, the wife beater/open closet while he reads El's letter are all queer-coding...

Byler is very much alive and thriving here and if anything these tweets actually call out Mileven more than hype them up if we take the time to understand them!

[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.

[lovenona]

I just haad to say thank you for the free serotonin that you have provided me with through the last artist sukuna post

it's just... ✨beautifull✨ we are slowly building up this au

BUT CAN YOU IMAGINE HIM GETTING MORE AND MORE FRUSTRATED WITH THE LACK OF ATTENTION WERE HE'S KIND OF POUTING

and then there need to be a project done in which you have the option to work in groups and NO MATTER WHAT this proud cherry haired idiot WILL work alone but geto won't he came to y/n and they really need to work in a group if they want to get this done so of course y/n is happily gonna agree to the offer of geto to work together they do be viben after all which ultimately leads to the fact that y/n is gonna give sukuna even less attention (it probably doesn't even get on his nerves that much that y/n works with geto its just the lack of attention and ultimately time spending with you that result from it)

ah i am sorry I was rambling again😂

anyways hope you have a nice day and don't stress yourself too much with answering always happy to see you post❤️

babe let me just say ur brain is massive and i thank u from the bottom of my heart – anyway here’s the original post for everyone about to embark on this godforsaken journey with art student sukuna and our new friend pretentious fuck geto suguru 

if you thought you were pitiful at drawing, your sculptural skills are on another level of true and utter shit. you cannot, for the life of you, create things out of clay. you despise carving anything into wood. your pottery faithfully collapses on you whenever you try. you hate working with glass. you would have dropped the class, honest, if you didn’t desperately need it in order to fulfill your major requirements and graduate on time. 

all in all, it’s an awful class created solely to tank your gpa – you don’t understand what you’re doing, you don’t understand what anything is supposed to look like, and you sure as fuck don’t understand how anyone else seems to have their shit together all the time. when you glance around the room, no one, not even the famous ryomen sukuna, has trouble making their materials turn into something recognizable.

(and, in true sukuna fashion, he loves to make sure you know how fucking untalented you are.) 

so when anthropology-and-ceramics king geto suguru asks if you want to be partners for the next big art project, you agree without a second thought. you’ve been talking to him recently, small talk before class, and for all his pretentious faults, you think he’s delightfully hot as fuck with a smooth voice to match. he wears those crisp, expensive button-downs that he bought at overpriced local craft markets. he always smells like cedar and eucalyptus; he brings a different tote bag to every class, his favorite being one he got as a gift for subscribing to the new yorker. he shops organic only and throws around the words “fair trade” and “bourgeoisie” and “means of production” with the ease that sukuna throws around the words “fuck” and “shit.” 

you think geto is fascinating. and maybe he talks down to you when explaining his anthropology knowledge, he absolutely does, but when he gazes at you with those warm eyes and offers to help you learn how to sculpt and raise your grades, you can’t help but agree with a pair of big pathetic doe eyes. 

why wouldn’t you? you’re just here for a good time, after all.

so when you giggle as geto places his sinfully smooth, manicured hands over yours while teaching you how to use the pottery wheel, you don’t think much of it. you think he’s cute and warm. you’d be a fool to notice the dark annoyance radiating from the other corner of the room.

ryomen sukuna always works alone. but what he didn’t count on was that you wouldn’t be working alone with him. 

it’s not that you’re working with geto, he swears. it’s that you’re not working with him. his ears feel strangely empty without your argumentative quips, without the way you tell him he’s infuriating and annoying every time he tells you something lewd just to fluster you. it’s strangely empty without you both arguing about the difference between great artists and sell-outs – were you here, in his corner of the room, maybe sukuna would have tried to tell you michelangelo was a loser just to see what you would say. 

but you’re not with him. you’re listening to geto tell you about the time he went to study abroad in germany and how he took a trip to morocco where he tried some amazing food you’ve never heard of. he’s telling you about the time he helped make tampons in botswana after his senior year of high school and all of the other deliciously precocious things he has done for the sake of human rights and anti-capitalism. 

(you’re killing the environment, you know, geto often admonishes you when you stumble into class with your cup of coffee. that cup is going to end up in a landfill. he always taks a sip from his hydroflask for emphasis. it’s sleek and black with an oxfam sticker on it.

and sure, you know that your cup is going to become trash. geto doesn’t have to be an annoying fuck and tell you when it’s only eleven in the morning and he drove a literal moped to campus. but still, with that silky man-bun, everything he does is okay.) 

but understand that sukuna doesn’t hate geto. sukuna craves attention, and he absolutely cannot stand being ignored. he’ll pout without realizing it, pursing his lips and wondering what kind of circus act he needs to perform to win back your presence. should he get another tattoo? cuss out the professor? offer to fuck you senseless in the third-floor bathroom? he’s not sure – he’s never not been seen before. ryomen sukuna doesn’t know what it’s like to come in second. 

so he intercepts you after class; in a manner that is both sukuna-and-not-sukuna, he’ll casually throw one of his heavy arms over your shoulders, subtly pulling you away from geto’s aura, wrapping you in his scent of earth and leather and sex appeal. “come on, puppy,” he says, sultry and annoying and condescending all wrapped in one, tapping his ring-clad fingers against your arm. “you’re supposed to help me write my paper, aren’t you?” it’s not a question, it’s a demand, one you know deep down that you would rather die than shy away from. 

you might not like sukuna, you tell yourself, but there’s something about him, the way he talks and moves and exists in the world, that makes you unable to shy away. there’s something about him that always makes you want more without you quite knowing why. 

(he kissed you, once. sometimes you wonder if you would like it to happen again.) 

and you’re still nestled under sukuna’s arm, trapped in his orbit and following him to his favorite empty classrooms, when geto calls back to you, wondering if you’re still interested in going to the avant-garde poetry reading with him tomorrow night. 

he’s going to present a poem he wrote on the terrors inflicted on south america by the united states, geto had explained earlier when his hands were on yours. it was going to be some real, hard-hitting poetry, none of that “rupi kaur bullshit.” he thought it might enlighten you to join him, perhaps in more ways than one.

you pretend you don’t notice the way sukuna’s arm tightens around your shoulders when you tell geto with a flirtatious smile that you can’t wait. 

[lilyrachelcassidy]

Summer Nights (2)

A/N: Is that... is that...? The unbridled enthusiasm I’m hearing? Or are you trying to reach me with torches and pitchforks for being so untrustworthy? Assuming the first option.

Anyway -- Yes, as I promised, this is the second part of the Summer Nights which you would hopefully enjoy. Waiting for your feedback. It’s the INDEX if you need a refresher.

ALSO, I give a lot of credit to @drawlfoy and @bored-and-botheredwho helped me with editing this chapter and steamed off my emotional breakdown related to my writing (lmao). I love you so much gals and a big THANK U once more!!!

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: coarse language; alcohol; Narcissa turning into a shitty-mother (lol)

Tags: @war-sword @paradigmax @winnsmills @idkatee@bforbroadway @okaydraco

The next thing Draco knew, he was being woken up with a massive hangover in the snuggly, way-too-comfortable bed by the high-pitched squeal of his mother.

"You, darling, made a lot of trouble for yourself yesterday," Narcissa admonished her son, a glacial cool look on her face. Entering Draco's hotel apartment, she walked over to the window and opened the drapes with one swift movement, splashing an annoyed Draco with light. He groaned, not yet daring to complain due to his mother's livid mood, to say the least.

"You have no idea of what happened yesterday, do you?"

"Yyy-" was the only sound he could make. God, where to the fuck was he? He hadn't been this plastered in forever.

"Of course you don't." Narcissa shook her head and laughed nervously, although she made it plainly obvious there was nothing humorous about the situation. "You blacked out so hard in that sleazy bar there is no way you can recall anything from yesterday. Look at you -- you are squinting at me like I'm the sun!"

Draco nervously ran his finders through his disheveled hair. He was definitely not in the right mind to provoke the conflict. "I left you the note at the reception," he informed her, trying to slickly get out of the unenviable conversation. "Told the receptionist to hand it over."

Contrary to his mother's accusatory ascertainment, he actually had some glimpses of the previous night (or should he say an all-night rave?). There were for sure drinks -- a lot of drinks; a variety of kinds he didn't recognize from the magical world but still guzzled delightfully. The second recollection was dancing --which wasn't his intention, but with some luck of his -- got invited by some hot-looking chicks from across the table. And yes, he definitely remembers the swaying and the rhythmical moving of the hips along with some cheesy muggle vibes mixed with the smell of booze and weed. Maybe he even hooked up with one of the girls? The last thing he recollects before passing out, almost like through a haze, was seeing Narcissa's furious face screaming something incoherent at him. Overall, that's his all night wrapped in one.

"Do you think the mere note 'I will be fine' was going to calm down my shattered nerves? Draco Lucius Malfoy, I swear to our dear ancestors, I did not raise you to act so irresponsibly." She waved the finger at him warningly. “We come from rich history. You are the descendant from a line of successful forefathers who put their effort into building up our reputation. Do you think Lucius would approve of such unrestrained behavior? I’ve been already hearing of letting you be too careless. Is tha-"

"Mother, could we skip the lecture?" Draco snapped angrily, try as he might to suppress it. "I've heard it too many times. All I’m trying to have is a peaceful life. Without the prying eyes of the media and the meddling of my family..."

"And all I’m trying to have is an integrated, happy family to offer you support and love.” Draco opened his mouth to cut her in, but she shushed him with a wave, clearly suggesting 'Don’t even get me started’ meaning. “I’ve been- been trying  to get a job, going through the infelicitous job interviews and looking for a solution to help our household through the post-war crisis. Have you shown any interest in that? Any?"

"But mo-"

"The last thing I want to have on my mind is dealing with your ignorant, boyish transitional stages, and let me tell you -- you do not make it any easier for me," she said without taking a breath. She exhaled slowly and continued, this time forcing a softer tone. "I ask you one thing for this summer. Let it be an enjoyable time without unnecessary conflicts. We have come to the beautiful country as France. Let's make a good thing out of it."

Draco, who was already wide awake by the buzz of adrenaline, looked at her with a serious expression. Scanning her face made him suddenly realize how hard must it have been for her to bear everything, and seeing the bags of tiredness under her beautiful, hazel eyes stopped him from retorting. "Mother, no matter what happens, I'll always support you. Remember that."

Narcissa smiled. “Oh. I know, honey, I know.” This time she lowered her voice by two octaves, slowly sitting at the edge of the bed. “It’s just… people have been gossiping behind our backs lately, partly throwing the blame at us. All I’m trying to do is protect us from those tormentors. But your binge drinking is not making the deadlock any better, and it drives me mad.” She chortled a little bit and patted Draco’s palm. “So, until the rumors die down, all we can do is raise our chins high.” Narcissa ended, her voice encouraging yet plaintive.

The last thing Draco liked is seeing his mother on the verge of emotional exhaustion, like in this moment. He felt an instant surge of sympathy, so he quickly found himself locking Narcissa in the supportive embrace. She responded to the gesture by wrapping her arms around her son’s neck and stroking his cheek delicately with the back of her hand, just like in the old times. Both of them yearningly wished to come back to those years of frivolity.

"I promise I'll try to be better," Draco said with certainty. Seeing Narcissa’s eyes light up in gratefulness and the smiley dimples form on her features, he assured himself it was the right thing to say at that mother-son moment.

“How could I be so lucky to have such a wise boy,” she muttered proudly, kissing Draco at the top of his head. “But perhaps you should not restrain yourself too much during the holiday. I give you the partial alibi per se. Just keep it under control.”

Smiling, Narcissa got up, straightening up her impeccable posture as in the habit of the high-status woman. For the first time in that day, Draco noticed how elegantly she was dressed up: the black, partly lacy dress stopping at the level of her knees; the shiny-white pearl jewelry perfectly matching her entire outfit; dark yet not defiant high-heels; andhair fixed up in the tight bun. In Draco’s opinion, she looked too prim...even for herself.

"Mother, are you heading somewhere?" he asked curiously.

“Well…” she started, blushing. “I’m going to see my old friend in the coffee shop. I haven’t been there for ages, so it’s one of the chances to meet up with them. Hopefully, you are going to take care of yourself for a few days.” 

"Days?" he asked, shocked.

“You didn’t expect me to travel from town to town, did you?” she laughed lightly. “Bordeaux is quite a route to overcome. So I might be settling there for a few nights. Do you mind it, darling?”

Was he positive about the information? Did he mind? Partly yes. He didn’t imagine the prospect of wandering around the alleys of France on his own, especially on the first day of being there. But from the other side, seeing the joy painted on his mother’s face as she told him about the planned get-together made him feel less skeptical. Plus, getting rid of the extreme supervision for a few days wouldn’t be such a disaster as well.

As he calculated now, the ratio about the idea was 90% pro and 10% against.

"Of course not," he said simply, smiling at his mother.

"I knew you would understand." The crease of uncertainty on her forehead disappeared, and she let out a sigh of relief. "Meanwhile... I have already booked you the brunch downstairs but seeing as you are not in the wholesome state, I might order a delive-"

"Don't..." Draco opposed, rising from the bed and throwing the nearest shirt he could find over his head. "I'll come down. Some fresh air may be a cure for a hangover. Oh, and speaking of hangovers -- do you happen to have an anti-hangover potion?"

Narcissa let out a quiet chuckle and clapped her hands, seemingly satisfied with herself. Her tranquil gaze landed on the cupboard. "As a matter of self-preservation, yes, I do. Try searching inside the bedside cabinet."

He thanked her and then they talked with each other a little bit longer until Narcissa took the pocket watch out of her handy purse, noted the time ("Merlin's Beard, I am so tardy! I'm going to be alone on the platform if I stay here a minute longer!), and –a little startled with her inadvertency – hurriedly declared she should get going ("I really should get going Draco!”). Pecking her son twice on the cheeks as a farewell, she rushed towards the door and, for the last time, turned around to blow a brief motherly goodbye kiss. She left in such a hurry that the only sign indicating her presence in the room a few seconds ago was her familiar perfume lingering about in the air.

Draco gathered his clothes, and after half an hour of very difficult preparations while dealing with the consequences of yesterday's actions -- because the potion finally hits after two to three hours -- he found himself in front of the hotel's restaurant. As he walked in, he had to admit the room enchanted him with its lovely atmosphere, which brought back the memories of his first Hogwart's magical feast as an eleven-year-old boy.

With the large windows allowing plenty of light in, the entire space was in the classical style. The whole floor was clad with marble tiles in the white-like color; the walls were purely white and, apparently, someone must have put a lot of effort not to let a single dust spot appear in there; the ceiling was created in the concept of the sky resemblance making an impression of the real clouds hovering over heads. Three enormous chandeliers made a very good fit with carved wooden tables and similarly-looking chairs.

"Sir, would you like to make an order?" The decently looking waitress walked over to his table, with a white apron around her waist and green, deep eyes staring at him. "I'm Laura, by the way. I'll be serving you today."

He nodded, not really paying much attention to her primitive attempts of having a chit-chat. Cursorily glancing at the menu, he decided on having a french bagel with melted cheese and a coffee which was a specialty of the house as was written in the recommendations. The waitress scribbled something sloppily in her notes, smiled briefly, and then strode away.

The restaurant was almost fully emptied, and the only things heard in the background were a heated discussion of the couple beside the table and a composition of french, old songs prepared specifically for the guests.

Draco let out a small sigh of boredom, thinking yet again about the scenery of today. The only ideas that crossed his mind were either lounging in his stuffy hotel room or finding another hang-out spot to drown his sorrows.

After the War, he had found out it was pretty easier not to give in to any of the memories, blurring them out with the support of Scotch as a coping mechanism. Pansy and Daphne, his childhood friends, had tried to talk him out of it, kindly offering some tenderness and a chance for a conversation. But he had eventually stopped caring about any of that bullshit anymore.

That's why perhaps he'd just--

"Hi!" said a cheerful voice behind him, making him jump slightly at his seat with surprise. At first, he thought it was a mistake; that he must have been deemed as someone else considering he didn't know anyone around, so was in the opposite way. Turning around, however, made him realize it wasn't entirely the truth. "Do you remember me?"

"Hello." Of course, he remembered her. It was the receptionist from the previous day, whose name he didn't bother to memorize. Although he planned on avoiding potential candidates for a talk today, he said truthfully, "Yes, I do. You work here, right?"

"Yeah," she confirmed, smiling. "Can I join?"

For a moment, his sluggish brain did not process what she was asking about, and that made him frown. The girl probably comprehended what it was about because she explained, reading his confused expression. "...the table".

"Oh," he said, feeling more than embarrassed for his dumb reaction. "Yeah, help yourself."

"Thanks," she mumbled, pulling out the chair to make some room for herself. "Tough night, huh?"

The inquiry made him suddenly realize she must have witnessed the whole scene yesterday -- him asking her for a favor, Narcissa drilling her out for any clues about his disappearance, his arrogant attitude, and scurrility as he spoke to her. For sure, if she were smart enough, she would deduce what the situation was about.

He couldn't help it, but a wave of shame pierced through his body, and his stomach rolled slightly.

"A little," he answered minimizing a dimension of the spree, almost like a lie, and then he shook his head. "Listen, sorry about yesterday. I might have been...rude."

A small smile of courtesy formed on her lips. "I presumed you were a little off. Happens..." she said tentatively, gripping both of her hands together. "Oh, and about yesterday -- you lost this at the lobby." She took his wand out, and Draco's stomach made a second roll, the heartbeat hastening like a speed of light. He quickly tried to bring his face to the natural expression, but the girl had noticed that, and curiosity filled her eyes. "I thought I should give that back. In case it was valuable or something."

Fucking great... How was he supposed to elucidate that?

His throat felt so dry he couldn't let out a word of excuse. The moment was so mortifying to him he just reached for the familiar wand and nodded politely in gratefulness.

"Mhm..." Draco hummed, barely audible and momentarily deflated. "It's just... Something I've been training with..."

What the fuck is that supposed to mean, dolt?!

"Oh," the girl unconsciously flipped her hair off the shoulders, probably trying to make sense of the information. Furrowing her brows, she put her hand under the chin. "Are you a magician?"

"Kind of..." he agreed, not happy about the reputation he had just created for himself, but at the same time satisfied he didn't have to make up more explanations.

Luckily for Draco, the uncomfortable pause was rescued by the arrival of the food -- thank Merlin -- and even though he hadn't been hungry at all, now he felt an unexpected appetite to eat up the awkwardness. The girl probably caught a hint it was about time to end an encounter because she grunted.

"Listen," the girl started, clearing her throat yet again. "I better get going. But..."

The next thing Draco knew was that she was reaching to her pocket again, this time taking out something similar to a quill, only without ink. He assumed it must some kind of muggle invention, only a mechanical-like version. The girl uncorked it and suggestively drew out her hand, clearly signifying he should bring his hand closer as well. He obediently did.

"France is a big city," she said, glancing at him and sounding serious. "If you ever needed someone to show you around, let me know."

Without any preamble, her soft, delicate fingers grasped his forearm (he made sure to give her the right one), and with a few scrawls on his skin, she looked at him merrily, blushing slightly, and then left a table.

He stared after her for a while, looking at her curls bouncing behind her back as she walked away at a slow, monotonic pace. After a few seconds, she disappeared out of his sight, letting him finally peek at the note she had left:

'Call me, Y/N,' and a nine-digit number attached.

XOXOXO

A/N: I know this part might have contained too little Draco x Reader momento, but I promise it’ll get better as a plot develops. Also -- is it only my impression, or is Narcissa as changeable as the weather in Germany lol.