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thschei · 3 months

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Also... I decided not to put this in the new cat post, both bc I didn't want it to get long and I decided to leave the reblogs on it bc the pictures are cute, and I didn't want This portion to be reblogged. I know a lot of people feel the same way I do, and that's a great thing, but I don't... want a lot of attention on my posts or blogs. The trauma, etc. So I don't want this to escape containment but still want to talk about it, and am turning reblogs off. Like, this is a journal entry that I'm letting people see at a sleepover, not a speech I've prepared for my public speech and debate class. You know?

So, that preamble out of the way: I feel like... a resigned frustration about people Still clinging to the myths that cats are cold, unloving, distant, only around humans for food, only tolerate us and think we're stupid, etc etc. Or express surprise when they see examples of cats being loving and affectionate. (I... don't want to talk about the stupid ass misogyny and bioessentialism being applied to cats, but that too)

Like, it really truly isn't difficult to befriend a cat and in turn receive their affection. All you have to do is 1) show them, consistently, that you are safe and don't pose a threat to them 2) go at their own pace and respect their boundaries/comfort zone (like, hold your hand out for them to sniff instead of petting them straight away; don't force them to cuddle just because you want to) 3) treat them with unconditional love, initiate moments of affection occasionally instead of waiting for them to initiate each time (like, call them over, talk/meow/sing to them, get out their favorite toys to play with, etc. Do things that convey that their love is reciprocated.) 4) try to understand and read their body language, and back off when they give warning signs like twitching tails or flattened ears 5) provide them with fresh food, water, litter boxes, a clean environment

These things are basically tweaks on the foundations of establishing a friendship with another human, obviously the last one aside. So, why do so many people have an issue with the idea of treating an animal like their an autonomous being whose personal space should be respected? (Rhetorical question). I know that this is the ND, struggles socially, just had a viral poll about not knowing how to make friends, website-- but generally speaking, the people who make comments about cats being mean and unloving aren't the people who make up this site's userbase. ND folks honestly tend to have a much easier time socializing with animals than humans, for a variety of reasons.

I personally hate being touched, so I never had to be taught about respecting a cat's space and boundaries. Part of that is taking the "do unto others" rule very literally and to heart, and part of that is that I don't want to make any other living creature feel the way I do when I'm touched without permission. It doesn't matter if that's a cat, or a bug, or another person. But there's lots of ways to be ND, and like I said, a variety of factors that contribute to us connecting with animals easily.

And I know it's a harsh thing to say, but if your cat is genuinely cold, distant, tolerates you, etc... it's most likely due to something you've done as their owner, not in the "inherent nature" of an entire species, especially a domesticated one. Maybe you make a lot of noise that scares them, maybe you use negative reinforcement (Does Not Work On Cats) like squirting with a water bottle. Maybe you yell at them. There's a lot of things that can make a cat feel afraid of you and fracture their trust in you. Maybe you force them to cuddle and hold them in place when they try to get away.

I think the idea that cats only like us for food stems in part from what I discussed briefly in that previous post, people who exclusively feed their cats dry food. Most dry foods, especially the cheaper ones, are full of fillers of vegetables and carbohydrates like wheat, which cats cannot digest. Cats are obligate carnivores that need to eat meat, and specifically the protein taurine, which is typically found in abundance in the heart of other animals. So feeding cats a diet of only dry food is like if your parents fed you potato chips for every meal. You'd eat a large quantity in an attempt to feel full, but your body would make it known that its needs aren't being met. So, cats fed only dry food cry for more food more often, wake their owners up at early hours and aggressively, get more persistent when their meal is 1 hour behind (like the jokes about daylight savings). People get automatic feeders, but that doesn't solve the nutrition deficit, so it doesn't solve the cat's "behavior" (cries for help! to the person responsible for their care!) and both the cat and owner become increasingly frustrated with each other. The desperate eating of more dry food to get the nutrition they need is the cause of a lot of the overweight cats you see, and can lead to hypertension, kidney disease, diabetes, depression, lethargy, apathy, chronic joint pain, difficulty jumping/exercising around the house which makes all the above issues more difficult to combat, etc.

Most people . Only feed their cats dry food because it's cheaper than buying wet food . And I Try to be understanding about like, poverty, the housing crisis, economic turmoil, price gouging, etc etc. But if you want a cat, you're committing to at least 10-18 years of providing for this animal. If you can't afford to actually provide for them and meet their needs, you need to, like, play a pet-raising sim instead of fucking up an animal's health in irreversible ways, or making them loyal to you out of fear. This animal is supposed to be your friend, supposed to trust you implicitly and have a mutual bond of unconditional love.

I've never had any difficulties making friends with cats; the only time a cat never became receptive to my company was one that had been in a very abusive household. Neighbors and family friends' cats have all quickly sought out my attention and pets/cuddles. My cats have all been affectionate, trusting, and receptive to my emotions/physical pain. I have enough examples to fill its own post, but trust me when I say that every day my cats show through consideration, companionship, body language, and seeking out pets/cuddles, that they love and trust me, and my family. (Actually, I had a cat that would pee in one of my abusive aunts shoes whenever she visited our house <3 That cat said "your vibes are rancid and you're not welcome here")

This post is already pretty long, so I'll wrap it up here. I just wish that more people would put in the effort to learn/understand cat's body language and meet cats halfway instead of expecting cats to act like dogs do. (AND . I wish people would apply the above listed steps to how they treat dogs . You should be respecting their personal space and showing them respect too, asshole!) If you know what to look for re: a cat's body language, you'll see that they're telling us in a myriad of ways how much they enjoy our company, respect us, love us, etc.

#erin talks #text #this post will be deleted if Anyone starts shit over it #but I mean every word . cats and dogs have spent tens of thousands of years alongside us #as our companions and being bred for jobs . don't you think that in the modern day #we should give them a life of comfort and respect and unconditional love?#I don't expect anyone to be exactly like me and like sit on the floor so that my dogs can lie on the couch #or stand at the kitchen tearing up lunch meat for my pets before I eat my own dinner; I know my household is ridiculous #but I wish people focused on treating their pets like family instead of conveniences or sources of a power trip #even tho they can't understand spoken languages they can understand the tone of our voices; when we're disrespecting them #when we ignore their body language; when we half-ass things; when we use them as a thing to control for our egos; etc #(and obv a lot of these things apply only to cats/dogs; other pets require different things & sometimes Shouldn't be humanized to the point #we see human traits in cats/dogs; a reptile or fish has drastically different needs & you need a different mindset for them)#long post

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moody-blues-requiem · 5 years

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I'M HORNY FOR LEONE'S BIG WEEWEE SO.. I request an nsfw one-shot of Abba having a one night stand with a girl he has just met in the bar.

I wrote this from the girl’s (reader’s) perspective and because I’m a big sap who loves Leone you can tell in the end they both start to catch feels a little

n/s/f/w under the cut

It started as a night out with friends. Rarely did you hit the bars alone, though for the time being you found yourself flying solo, ordering another drink while your girlfriends danced in another part of the club.

When the bartender set the highball glass in front of you, you looked confused. “This wasn’t my order,” you said, “I just wanted the plain shot--”

“He paid for it,” the bartender explained, nodding towards a man at the end of the bar. “He said you’re on his tab.”

The man at the end of the bar was doing a bad job of pretending not to pay attention to you. He wore high-waisted black leather pants and boots, a loose white top tucked into the pants, and a black leather jacket draped over his shoulders. Way too fancy for this place. Long silver hair helped hide his watchful eyes, but you still caught that pretty lavender hue keeping you in his line of sight. Black-painted lips curled into a smirk when he saw you watching him back. You were reeled in, hook, line, and sinker.

“Thanks for the drink, stranger” you purred, settling in on the seat beside him. Now up-close, the man was more gorgeous than you had even initially thought. His skin was clear and smooth, high cheekbones and an an ever-so-slight hook to his nose. Radiating a cool, calculated aura, he looked like he just finished a shift modeling for Gucci. “Got a name?”

“Leone,” he replied, in a deep, velvety voice. “Leone Abbacchio.”

You found yourself falling for Abbacchio in no time. He had a dry sense of humor, grinning proudly when you called him a sharp bastard. You got a genuine chuckle from him when you said he was brave for drinking red wine with a white shirt, but a little weird for getting wine at a club.

“Would it be more appropriate to go drink wine at home?” he asked, eyeing you closely.

“Not alone, it wouldn’t,” you replied, setting your empty glass on the bar. Abbacchio left the bartender the tab and a generous tip. You texted your friends, saying you were heading out early. You left with Abbacchio’s arm wrapped around your waist.

His apartment was close by; a small- single-bedroom place, kept clean and organized. Not that you paid it much attention, though, as soon as the door was shut behind you your lips were on his, smudging his lipstick onto you. You could feel him smirking against the kiss, his hands moving to thread through your hair and pull you in closer. He tasted like wine and something else, cinnamon, maybe? As if the alcohol in your system wasn’t enough, you felt like you could get drunk off his passionate mouth alone.

He pulled back, nearly gasping for breath. “I’ll only take things as far as you want to take them,” he tucking a loose strand of silvery hair behind his ear. “What kind of night were you looking for?”

The question made you blush. You didn’t just want to blatantly say that you wanted him to fuck you until you couldn’t walk, but… you wanted him to fuck you until you couldn’t walk. Reeling it in a bit, though, you asked “well, would taking this to the bedroom be alright?”

The seductive grin across his black-smudged lips told you it was more than alright.

Abbacchio told you to stop him if things went too fast, but you had no problem with his strong hands peeling your clothes off of you, greedily squeezing at your breasts. He pulled your bra down, hands palming the soft skin and fingers tweaking your nipples. You yelped, but the pain was soothed quickly by the gentle heat of his mouth, wrapping around the little peak and sucking softly. When he moved to your other nipple, you couldn’t help but admire the ring of black lipstick his mouth had left behind.

His mouth was still around your breast when you brought your leg up a bit, rubbing your thigh between his legs. Finally Leone’s cool and in-control facade cracked a bit as he whined, grinding his hips down against you, searching for delicious friction. Now it was your turn to card a hand through his soft hair, tugging lightly to pull him back and make him look up at you.

“Fuck me, Leone.”

His boxers were discarded and erection freed; his dick was long and curved slightly upward, toward his toned belly. He pumped his hand over his shaft a few times, eyes locked on the wet spot decorating your panties, giving away just how aroused you already were. Abbacchio leaned over to his bedside table, selecting a condom from the little drawer-- which was quickly snatched by your nimble fingers, earning a little chuckle from you both. “Allow me.”

You unrolled the condom over his length, stroking him a couple of times, just to tease. The way you grasped his shaft, the gentle firmness and soft skin of your palms made Abbacchio gasp with electric pleasure. When you moved your hands away he grabbed them, pinning your wrists above you and using a knee to spread your legs for him. His silver hair fell around your face like a curtain as he hovered over you, lining himself up with your entrance. Your eyes stayed locked on his lavender ones as he pushed in, slowly, letting you feel and enjoy every inch of his cock. As soon as he was sheathed to the hilt, he leaned in, hungry lips meeting yours.

His thrusts started slow and shallow, allowing you to adjust to the length and stretch of his cock, but with your moans and the thrusting of your own hips he quickly picked up the pace, playfully teasing about what a needy little girl you were. You turned away trying to hide your blush, opening your neck up for a flurry of love bites. Abbacchio’s gentle nibbles made you squirm and squeal beneath him, earning a genuine smile from the level-headed man. When he pulled back to admire you beneath him, you saw your chance and lunged, returning the kisses and bites to his own neck.

As you drew closer to your end, your legs wrapped around Leone’s hips, drawing him in deep. You bit your lower lip as you groaned, hips shaking, drawing closer and closer to that sweet release. Abbacchio’s head nuzzled into the curve of your neck, his hips doubling their pace, spurred on by your desperate moans. He repeated your name like a mantra, holding you tightly until he pushed in deep, groaning loudly. Feeling his cock twitch within you, pressed right up against the sensitive bundle of nerves inside of you pushed you over your own edge, pleasure washing over your body as you loudly moaned “Leone, Leone!”

He held you for a minute, after you had both cum and the pleasure had finished coursing through your veins. His head laid gently on your chest, listening to your breathing, your heartbeat. In the gentle moment you ran your fingers through his hair, delicately scratching over his scalp. His eyelids fluttered as he leaned into your touch. The stillness only lasted for a moment, though, as Abbacchio propped himself up and slid out of you, disposing of the condom and cleaning up in the bathroom. Upon his return, he held a glass of water. “Hope you don’t mind sharing,” he said, offering it to you. “I just had the one cup in the bathroom.”

You giggled a little, graciously taking the drink. “I’ll fuck you, but sharing water is where I draw the line.” Abbacchio snorted, rolling his eyes and crawling into the bed next to you. “I can give you a ride home, if you’d like, but you’re also welcome to stay for the night.”

“I’ll stay, thank you. I’d hate to just drink your water and dash.”

You were bid goodnight with a kiss and a laugh, Abbacchio settling in behind you and wrapping his arms around your torso, spooning. He dozed off quickly, his sleepy exhales lightly tickling your shoulder.

You could already tell that when the morning finally came, you weren’t going to want to leave.

#leone abbacchio #vento aureo #golden wind #jjba #anon #my writing #n/s/f/w #va #i've been working on a paper for 2 months now about healthcare and healthy sex so u bet ur ass theyre using a condom

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delaware-lemme-smash · 6 years

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I'm DEAD this blogs name is perfect XD Can we start off with a scenario of Todoroki's S/O buying him really expensive clothes because they're filthy rich? Like, Mitsukoshi expensive.

I’m so sorry this request has been waiting for so long! I tweaked your suggestion a little but I hope it still suits what you were after!

Todoroki Shouto

The department store rose four storeys from street level, the lit windows gleaming in the chilly, overcast January afternoon. Situated on a sharp corner, Mitsukoshi looked like a slice of cake draped in fairy lights. Shouto stared up at it, hands shoved in his pockets. His breath misted as he turned to look at you.

‘Why are we here, again?’

You smiled. ‘I wanted to buy you something for your birthday, but you’re kind of hard to choose for.’

‘I am?’ He looked genuinely surprised, like it was something he hadn’t known about himself.

‘Yeah, unless you want a lifetime supply of zaru soba.’

He opened his mouth, his face suddenly earnest. You tugged at his sleeve to lead him into the store before he could say that yes, actually, he did want a lifetime supply of soba.

As the son of the #1 Hero in Japan, unwilling as he was to acknowledge that fact, he was used to a relatively priveliged lifestyle. In terms of his family home, the food he ate, and the clothes he wore, he knew luxury. The Todoroki household had several servants to keep things running, and his siblings had grown up with a series of nannies. Still, his eyes widened as you stepped into the foyer.

A chandelier hung from the lofty ceiling, dripping crystals, scattering droplets of light over the walls. Your feet echoed on the polished marble floor. Glass elevators and escalators ferried well-dressed customers smoothly from floor to floor. The air was warmer inside, despite the cavernous space, and lightly scented with ginger and cinnamon, like they’d bottled the smell of cookies and funneled it through the air vents.

‘Why did you bring me to this store in particular?’ Shouto asked, looking around, bemused. ‘It seems kind of…’

‘Snobby?’

'Yeah.’

'Well, one, because I can,’ you said, making for one of the escalators. He followed close behind, looking like he’d rather not be left to the predations of the make-up and perfume counter clerks who were eyeing him hungrily. 'And two, because their tailoring department does a little something special.’

In a society full of Quirks, every clothing store large or small offered tailoring. It was a common standard, and of course, a store like Mitsukoshi went above and beyond that.

On the second floor, clothing racks stood in vast tracts of empty space, each spotlit like museum pieces. Wools and worsteds, cashmere, finest English cotton, sturdy Japanese denim, soft, buttery leather in every hue. Shouto’s face was expressionless, but you could feel the curiosity rolling off him in waves.

You reached out to feel the cuff of a light blue sweater. It was like a cloud between your fingers.

'A lot of Pros shop here,’ you explained. 'Whatever you choose, they can send it up to the top floor to be chemically treated to suit your Quirk. I figured you might like some casual clothes you won’t accidentally burn off or tear with your ice.’

Shouto was busy looking around, taking in all the garments in a new light. He could wear any of this stuff, even if he got into a fight? A faint smile tugged at his lips. Pretty thoughtful of you. He’d had plenty of his shirts shredded by now.

'That’s not a bad idea,’ he said. He nodded at what you were admiring. 'Nice sweater.’

'Hmm.’ You reached further down the rack, picking it up in a pale grey. You rubbed it against your cheek, imagining Shouto wearing it. So soft… The perfect excuse for wrapping your arms around him and nuzzling into his shoulder. 'Try this one too.’

So it went.

You ended up with a small mound of clothing on a bench as you both wandered from rack to rack, weighing up the pros and cons of whatever caught his eye. Shouto relaxed into it when he saw that you weren’t going to force him to try anything loud or outrageous.

He ended up with a pair of dark blue jeans, two t-shirts and a button-down shirt, the sweater in blue and grey, and a pale yellow hoodie that you’d lightly bullied him into choosing.

‘Are you sure you don’t want me to get it just so you can steal it?’ he asked, a faint lilt to his voice. Teasing. ‘You’d look pretty cute.’

‘Oh, I’m definitely going to borrow it,’ you retorted. ‘It’s a solemn right to borrow your boyfriend’s hoodies.’

‘And socks,’ he added, glancing down at your boots, and the All Might socks lurking beneath. You’d filched them from his drawer that morning, proclaiming you wanted ‘Plus Ultra comfort.’ ‘Midoriya gave me those.’‘Why am I not surprised? That guy’s probably got All Might underwear.’

Shouto’s lips twitched. You snickered.

‘You’re kidding.’

‘I saw them in the locker room one time.’

‘Oh, no, did they say Plus Ultra across the butt?’

‘No. Thankfully. Are you sure about all this?’ he asked, glancing down at the pile of clothes. ‘It’s a lot.’

‘Definitely!’ you said, gleefully gathering up the clothes and heading for the checkout.

The clerk would take your purchases and send them up for treatment. If you paid for express service, they’d be finished and delivered within three days, and Shouto wouldn’t have to worry about singeing anymore of his t-shirts. He hovered quietly behind you while you paid. The clerk bid you good day, and turned away to fill out the instructions.

Shouto leaned down, the point of his chin resting on your shoulder. His hands brushed down your arms, touch light but affectionate.

‘Thank you,’ he said, in that deep, quiet voice.

‘Happy birthday,’ you said, leaning back into him. ‘Hungry? There’s a restaurant downstairs that does great zaru soba.’

His chin disappeared from your shoulder; his warm hand closed around yours. You found yourself striding purposefully toward the escalator, led by a suddenly galvanised Shouto.

‘You want soba that bad?’ you asked, voice edging into a giggle.

He glanced back at you, face perfectly serious. ‘Yes.’

Laughing, you followed.

#honoikazuchis #delaware-lemme-smash #Todoroki Shouto #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha headcanons #bnha imagines #mha #my hero academia #mha imagines #mha headcanons #Mod Rig

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50-shades-of-beige · 6 years

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Other side of the wall.

Summary: Jim, your next door neighbour, blares his guitar while you play delicate tunes on your piano. The two of you couldn't be more different until the magic of making music connects you both.

Warnings: little bit of arguing, swearing, tiny bit suggestive at the end

A/N: Just a another Hopper x reader fic for you all to indulge in. This one is a little different! It's set in New York and has a muscican au vibe to it. Let me know what you think! Enjoy! 😁❤️

Gif source [x]

When you moved to New York city you enjoyed the prospect of having neighbours. Neighbours above you, under you, either side of you- it was one of the main reasons why you had your heart set on an apartment almost smack bang in the middle of the city.

It was a beautiful neighbourhood. Tall brownstone buildings on either side, cherry blossom and oak trees lining the pavements- it was picturesque. The only problem was the stairs. When you moved in, getting your stuff- including your baby grand piano- was horrendously strenuous and time consuming but with the help from the removal company, you were relaxing in your apartment later that evening.

The complex you lived in was fairly quiet, there was six apartments in the one building. You lived on the top level- the apartment across from you was empty and up for sale. Below you in the other four apartments there was a widow who had beautiful window boxes which she tended to everyday, a middle aged man who often came home late and left early the next morning for work, a young couple who had just gotten engaged and another house that was rented out by a landlord so had always had new people in it when it wasn't empty. They were all lovely and got along with you well. You asked them when you moved in if playing the piano would be a problem, they all insisted that it wasn't and said they rather enjoyed the live music drifting down the stairs and in through their windows when theirs and yours were open.

You had to practice a lot. You had gotten a job in swanky hotel to play it and as well as that you also played for a regional orchestra.

Playing the piano was your life.

It was a typical sunny Tuesday. Your windows were wide open late in the afternoon and a gentle breeze was making the curtains dance. You were composing a new piece, one hand holding a pencil and jotting down notes while the other effortlessly drifted over the keys.

You were making good process when-

Screech!

Your hand slammed down on the keys with fright as a loud noise filled your apartment, almost making your ornaments on top of your fireplace wobble.

"What the hell was that?!" You asked yourself and stood up from your piano stool and looked out the window. The noise had gone and you couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. You sighed and shook it off returning to your piano and playing your tune again. It was soft, delicate until it reached a grand crescendo and your whole apartment erupted with music.

Screech!

That noise again. It made you jump and made you mess up your piece completely. "What the hell?!" This time you could pinpoint where it was coming from. The living room that was next to yours and separated by a wall. You went back to your window and leaned outside, reaching across slightly to knock on the window next door.

The woman with the window boxes had told you about a new neighbour who had bought the apartment across the landing from yours. The window opened and your breath hitched when you saw your new (surprisingly attractive) neighbour. He had the fluffiest hair, the colour of it very similar to his beard and eyes that could compete with the blueness of the sea and easily win.

"Can I help you?"

Then you remembered that you were pissed with him.

"Yeah, what the hell was that noise?" You asked.

He shrugged "My electric guitar, trying to tweak my amp to get the right volume to drown out your fancy ass classical shit."

You raised an unimpressed brow "'Fancy ass classical shit'? You mean my piano?" He let out a snort of laughter "At least I can actually play! Sounds like you were killing an animal or something!"

His eyes narrowed "What I was playing was actual music, fancy ass. If you take requests, my request is for you to shut up."

You were seeing red, your fingers twitched furiously and you went back to your piano, inhaling a deep breath and slamming your fingers down on the keys creating the loudest note you could. You were going to show him what actual music sounded like.

Mainly out of spite.

You quickly and flawlessly played the most intense and dramatic piece you could. But on the other side of the wall, your neighbour knew two could play at that game and blared out a note on his electric guitar, sliding his fingers up and down the strings to create wails and hums that were trying to drown out your piano. When you finished the piece you slumped across the keys and caught your breath, too caught up in competing with who could play the best and the loudest. You wiped the trickle of sweat away from your hairline and let a growl under your breath as your neighbour continued playing.

•••

The competing carried on for weeks and then eventually a month and then two months. The entire duration your neighbour had been living across from you.

You tried your best to ignore the cackling of amplifier and screech of the guitar and your neighbour in general. The amplifier and guitar were harder to ignore than your neighbour, the only time you had saw him was when the two of you had your heads sticking out the window eight weeks ago.

You had just returned home from work and you wanted to do nothing more than sit back, relax and the play piano for an hour before bed. Before you went upstairs, you collected your mail from your box in the communal hallway. General mail, you flicked through them one by one and then stopped when you noticed that one wasn't addressed to you.

"James Hopper?" Realisation hit you "Oh god..." you groaned. You let out an irritated huff when you noticed that you couldn't get into his box to put the letter in- the mail person had a master key. You decided to just take it up to him and slide it under the door. When you reached the top you kneeled down and had slid the envelope halfway under the door when it opened. You froze and slowly looked up to see him standing over you.

"What are you doing?" He asked.

"Uh," you quickly stood up and extending the letter out to him "This was in my mailbox but it's addressed to you."

He took the letter "Thanks," he uttered as if it was a chore talking to you.

"You're welcome, James." You notice his face scrunch up when you called him that.

"Just...call me Jim...or asshole, because I know you're thinkin' it half the time," he let out a breathy chuckle and the corner of your lip tugged upwards.

You finally introduced yourself properly "Y/N...or fancy ass." Jim genuinely smiled and shook your hand before you bid him goodnight and went into your apartment.

After you had changed into your pyjamas and before you went to bed, you played your composed piece. You had written lyrics in your notebook on the way home from work and were trying to find perfect places for them between the music notes.

You played a few notes and sang what you had: "I don't know about you, but I hope you feel it too..." you scribbled out a note and replaced it with another "Am I the only one who can see what we've become...?"

You scribbled down more notes and words for at least an hour before calling it a night. Unbeknownst to you, your neighbour was listening.

And he was impressed.

•••

"Ah Chopin...more like Cho-pain..." you couldn't help but snort with amusement at your own joke as you practiced. You flicked through your song book while you recited each and every song until you were done. It took half the day but at least you would be prepared for your concert at the weekend.

You pulled out your own composed piece and began to play it and hum along with the words. You thought you were hearing things when you heard someone play along with you.

You played an A and another A followed. You placed a C and seconds later another C was playing. It was like an echo. You decided to experiment and play a few chords, again, they were repeated seconds later. You played more and listened closely until a sharp was played instead of a flat.

You held your breath for a second before speaking out to nothing but the four walls of your living room "It's a C flat not a C sharp..."

There was a moment of silence "Sorry! I'll get it right next time."

You let out a short giggle and played again, when you finished the song, you had an idea. You bit down on your lip and left your apartment barefooted, walked across the landing and knocked on Jim's door. "Do you...do you want to see what I've got written down?"

Jim smiled "Sure, hold on," he turned around and went to where his living room would be while you kept glancing back as you walked into your apartment. You sat down at the piano and played a few keys before Jim walked in with an acoustic guitar.

You smirked "And here I thought you only played electric..."

"I'm full of surprises," he winked and sat down next to you on your stool "Did you write it yourself?" He motioned at the sheet of paper "I've heard you play it a few times."

"Yeah, I did write it..."

"The lyrics too?" He asked and tuned his guitar.

You nodded "Yeah..." you nervously cleared your throat "Sorry if you heard me, I'm like nails being dragged down a chalkboard!"

"No!" Jim protested with a wide smile "You're actually quite good. You okay with me playing along?" You nodded and began playing, Jim perfectly harmonising with you. His guitar was a great addition. The night crept in and you walked him to your door, saying a final goodnight before you both shut your doors over. You climbed into bed and let out a loud sigh with a smile on your face. Perhaps Jim wasn't as bad as you initially thought.

You knew his bedroom was on the other side of the wall from yours so, you decided to put a little more effort in with him "Hey Jim?"

It took him a few seconds to reply "These walls are super thin..." he joked and you giggled, he soon joined in. "For a second there I thought you where a ghost or something."

"Yeah, these apartments try to have so much space that the walls are compromised. Also, the drains are connected, I can hear you singing Elvis in your bathroom in the morning through my sink when I'm in the shower," you chuckled "But I didn't want to have a conversation with you through the wall about how thin they are, I wanted to asked if you maybe wanted to come to my orchestra recital this weekend?" A beat passed and you quickly added "You don't have to if you don't want to of course! I'm not trying to force you into going or anything and I-"

Jim cut off your ramblings "-I'd love to."

•••

"A bit cliché but you were amazing!" Jim handed you over a bunch of roses by the stage door "Almost makes listening to your practicing bearable!" He joked and you lightly nudged his shoulder.

"Thank you, and thank you for coming and for the roses. They are beautiful." You admired them with a shy smile.

Jim looked at you adoringly as he watched you trace your finger over the petals. The same fingers he watched a mere half an hour ago whizz over keys faster than the speed of light during some pieces.

When you arrived back at the building, Jim invited you into his apartment to let you listen to something he had been practicing.

You sat down on the couch while he sat across from you on a stool. His living room had at five full sized guitars scattered around it- two acoustic and three electric. There was also a bright blue ukulele on the arm of the couch and plectrums everywhere. You could see that he was nervous and it made your brow furrow.

"Okay, so," he cleared his throat, scratched the back of his neck and tuned his already tuned guitar. He couldn't help it, his trembling fingers needed something to do. "I've been working on this, it's not finished yet but...I hope you enjoy it." You watched him get comfortable before strumming a few notes and starting to sing: "When I first saw you I couldn't believe my eyes...you've got so much beauty, babe that ain't no lie. But we were both kinda stupid and were both far to proud, so the both of us couldn't help but be obnoxiously loud. Now honey I know the walls are paper thin and the drains are interconnected, but when I am around you I feel my heart is affected with nothing but the sweet sound of love...mhmm...the sweet sound of...love..." he cleared his throat and placed down his guitar "That's uh...that's all I've got..."

You stood up from the couch without saying a word. You walked over to him and he stood up "I loved it," you whispered with a smile growing on your face.

"R-really?" Jim went wide eyed before he cupped your face and kissed you "Sorry I called you a fancy ass."

You burst out laughing "Sorry I mentally called you an asshole..."

"We'll just call that getting even," you smirked at his words and kissed him again.

"You wanna come next door and make some music?" You asked.

"We gotta be be careful how loud we're making music..." Jim raised his eyebrows suggestively.

You looked down to the ground and blushed with a coy smile "The walls are shockingly thin..."

Jim captured your lips with his "Can you can cope with me singing Elvis in the morning?"

You smirked "Only if I can be your backing singer."

"Well then," Jim wrapped an arm around you and pulled you towards your apartment "We better get our vocal chords warmed up..."

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@sleepylunarwolf @daddyharbour

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