#also the way the only reason i finished a cover letter before was bc those apps were actually due that night

[kuiinncedes]

I WILL APPLY FOR A JOB W A COVER LETTER TODAY

[miitopias]

would also like ur thoughts on everything i will listen to u talk abt video games always LOL but 6 9 12 22 28!

thank uu and likewise 🫶🫶 will not answer everything bc thts so many but also i feel like ive covered a lot of these topics before on my sideblog but! i will answer these for u 🫰

6. A series you’ve enjoyed since your early days of gaming and still enjoy to this day whether it still has games coming out or is one you return to pokemon and rhythm heaven :') ❤️ from these series ive only played platinum and rhds as a kid, so as an adult ive been enjoying their other titles.. though i do not rly care for 3d pokemon titles.. but with time that may change. and wait technically final fantasy, bc i had the ff4 ds cartridge as a kid. except it was in japanese and i had no idea how to play it and did fuck all. i didnt even realize it was final fantasy until years later when i played ff7, and i recognized the running from battle animation. and now i have final fantasy brainrot <3

9. A game you played completely blind with no prior knowledge of and enjoyed/loved ff9 and ghost trick 😎 im so happy i played these without any spoilers or any idea what to expect, bc i really think thats the best way to experience them

12. A character you particularly like in the game you’re currently playing YRP girlies 😎😎😎 idk when ill ever finish x-2 cuz this ps3 is kinda busted, but despite their kinda cringe dialogue i still love yuna and the girlies

22. A game ending that’s really stuck with you FF9....... i think u saw my insanity firsthand when i did not shut up about it for like 8 months 😭 it really changed my life bc it was ff9 that really made me get more serious w literary analysis of games and medias in general, bc i just wanted to understand everything abt this story. majora's mask similarly changed my life and was the reason i made a sideblog to begin with, because i NEEDEDDD to be insane about this game somewhere.. god what an ending. god. ok im not going to go insane abt it rn LOL my focus is on Spider-Man now.

28. Pick a series you like. What was the first game you played for it? Was it a good starting point? Would it still be a good starting point now? i wont pick final fantasy bc my answer is literally the same as yours LOL so um... i will pick zelda. my first zelda game was botw and honestly that is an AWFUL starting point for getting into zelda JFKLJSDL bc its just so. fucking different from every zelda game out there. and also bc its a love letter to the franchise, that probably a million references flew over my head bc i didnt know what they were referencing. but yeah like its just absolutely awful to go from a game where you can freely jump to a game where you have to ROLL.

but at the same time i dont think botw is an awful starting point. bc like.... its a good game. its a good Modern game. like the older zelda games, especially the 3d titles, are extremely outdated. i dont think anyone should be playing those in this day and age when botw/totk is there to experience instead. while not ideal, i think its fine to hit it off with a modern switch title, then work your way down to older titles.

of course 2d zeldas are a different thing. dare i say, the superior thing. also i dont believe anyone should get into zelda. bad franchise. except when the games are good. all pondering aside the best starting point for zelda is ALBW, then MM3D. maybe some MINISH CAP as a treat. those are the only existing zelda titles. to me. but jokes aside if someone is really gonna have a 'starting point' for zelda games then its definitely BOTW/TOTK or ALBW. doesnt matter whether its a switch title or ALBW played first, but its very very very very important that ALBW is played as well.

[alrightberries]

“may i?”

❈ pairing: levi ackerman x reader

❈ genre: fluff & angst.  ❈ word count: 8k

❈ summary: you’re the medic assigned to take care of captain levi as he heals from the explosion. you’re also the only person he tolerates.

alternatively: in which you create prosthetics for humanity’s most war torn soldier.

❈ trigger warnings: manga spoliers. profanity. mentions of violence, blood, gore, and death. mentions of sexual themes.

a/n: levi’s kinda ooc bc i couldn’t write the progress of his relationship with reader without making it longer than it already is. also this is medically inaccurate (re: healing time of broken bones and amputations) for the sake of the plot so pls no one throw hands. 

Levi doesn't like looking at mirrors.

There was no tragic backstory behind his distaste for the reflective surface, no deeper meaning or hidden symbolism as one would expect from a man with his past. The reason behind it was simple: he just saw no reason to.

He wasn't vain, wasn't too concerned about his face, didn't care much to look at his physical appearance aside from when he had to cut his hair or get ready for the day to look presentable to his comrades. He knew he was attractive, and effortlessly so. The little letters and gifts he’d received from fans and admirers proved as much, and his title of “Humanity’s Strongest” only added to the appeal. Really, there was no reason for him to always be looking into a mirror.

But now... Levi simply couldn’t understand why that mindset had vanished. It was replaced with the fervor to always be staring at his own reflection— not out of vanity but out of disgust.

The disgust of staring at his mutilated face.

He warily lifts up the small mirror he held in his hand, features contorting into a grimace at the man staring back at him. Scars and cuts littered his cheeks— some deeper than others, but none as terrible as the long jagged scar that ran down the right side of his face. It started from his forehead and ended at his bottom lip, held together by ugly black stitches the medics had hurriedly sewn on him the second he got back to the base. His right eye was split in half, completely useless, completely blind; held together by the same black stitches that donned the ugliest scar of all.

And Levi couldn’t help but think that this man was hideous.

He was hideous.

Levi reaches out with his right hand to touch his scars out of habit. He feels his heart tighten when he realizes there’s only air where his fingers should be and he nearly breaks the small mirror he held in his good hand from how hard he was squeezing it. 

The mirror makes a gentle clink as he sets it down onto the mahogany of his desk. Bitterly, he stares at his three fingered right hand. His pointer and middle finger were gone, nothing but pathetic stumps protruding from his knuckles where they used to be. It was still covered in bandages and a makeshift brace so he wouldn’t strain himself when he moved, but he knew it was useless. He couldn’t move those stumps even if he tried.

He probably should’ve been thankful to have made it out of that explosion alive— not unscathed, but alive nonetheless. Though Hange had tried cheering him up (“Look on the bright side, we can wear matching eyepatches now!”) he simply couldn’t find it in himself to celebrate coming back so... useless. 

His writing was as legible as chicken scratches. His right eye spasmed in pain every time he blinked. He couldn’t even try to relearn how to use the ODM gear with his new circumstance, and he mentally curses out his orders to stay put and heal.

Too many things were lost, too many people, too many lives.

All because of that damned explosion.

All because of that damned bearded bastard.

Levi is pulled from his thoughts when three soft knocks reverberate throughout his otherwise quiet office, and he rushes to put his eyepatch on and hide the mirror in his desk drawer. He attempts to sit in what he hopes was a seemingly ‘professional’ position but his stiffness gives away his discomfort. 

“Name and business.”

“Y/N L/N. I’m here for your daily checkup.”

He feels himself release a breath he didn’t even know he was holding once he hears the voice. Your voice. 

“Come in.”

The wooden door creaks open before it closes with a soft click, floorboards making minuscule sounds at the weight as you make your way to his desk. Levi pretends to look busy as his good eye scans the document he held in his hand. 

The sound of porcelain clinking against porcelain grabs his attention.

“Brought you tea.” You murmured. “I figured it won’t be up to your standards again but I did try my best.”

Levi still doesn’t look up as you set the tray down on his desk, and his good hand reaches for the steaming cup to take a small sip. His eye twitches at the taste.

“If you were going to bring me shit tea anyway then why bother.”

He hears a gentle chuckle but doesn’t see the way you smile at his contradictory words and actions. He made no move to throw the “shit tea” away, something he was infamous for with teas that didn’t meet his standards. Instead, he keeps sipping, gently placing the cup down onto his table once he finished.

“I thought that maybe distracting you with terrible tea would keep your mind off me changing your bandages.” You explained, and Levi nods but doesn’t speak. When silence once again filled the room, interrupted only by the occasional crumple of documents you knew he wasn’t reading, you take it as your cue to pick up your pen and clipboard to start the checkup.

“Have you felt any discomfort or pain in any of your extremities such as your right eye or your right hand?”

“No.”

“Have you felt any throbbing or other sensations in any part of your body?”

“No.”

“Have you experienced any fevers, headaches, dizziness, or sudden spasms in any part of your body?”

“No.”

He hears you set your clipboard down and his skin tingles from your doubtful stare. He didn’t have to look to know it was there. He risks a glimpse at the papers attached to the wooden board in your hands but just as he expected, you didn’t write down any of his answers.

“Have you lied to any or all of the questions I’ve asked during your routine checkup for today?”

“...yes.”

A soft sigh escape through your nose and your eyebrows furrow in disappointment. “Captain, lying to your medic won’t get you to the battlefield faster. You’re of no use to anyone when you’re injured.”

Levi clicks his tongue at your reply but he holds his smart ass comments back. He knew you were right, and it infuriated him so much.

“Fine,” he grits out. “My right eye’s been twitching all day. The fucking stumps on my right hand don’t feel like stumps. It feels like I still have fingers there, and I know it’s complete bullshit since they were lying next to my face when they got blown off.”

His angry glance finally lands on you. “That the answer you were looking for, oh medic of mine?”

It was now your turn to click your tongue. “Not quite,” you mumble, writing down his answers onto the file in your hands. “Feeling your missing limbs even after they’re amputated is normal. It’s called phantom touch.”

You place the clipboard back onto his desk and reach into your pockets, pulling out pristine white gloves before gingerly putting them on.

“Your right eye still spasming though, that’s concerning.” You add. Your hands slowly reach out to his face, and Levi momentarily flinches away out of habit. But you made no move to touch him.

He eyes you warily, tense muscles relaxing even just the slightest as he sees your gentle stare.

“May I?” You ask softly, a caring smile on your face.

Levi only nods, not trusting his words, and he once again tenses up as he feels your hands unbuckle the leather straps of his eyepatch before setting it down onto his table. He keeps his bad eye shut.

Your hands are gentle as you touch his face, touch nothing but a soft caress in such a way that his tender stitches felt no pain. Your eyes are focused on his stitches, lacking any judgement or ill will, and Levi’s suddenly aware of how close you actually were to his face.

Your eyes were beautiful, he noticed. They always were. The little furrow in your eyebrows as you concentrated was cute, and the soft caress of your hands on his cheeks as you inspected his face felt... nice, and dare he even say relaxing. Momentarily, when he finally lets himself adjust to the atmosphere, he lets his tense muscles ease.

“Can you open your right eye, Levi?”

“Y-yeah.”

FUCK.

What the fuck.

Did he just fucking stutter?

Levi’s surprise is only painted on his face for a few mere seconds before he schools his expression back to one of stoicness and neutrality, and he prays to all the existing gods he knew of that you wouldn’t notice.

He risks another glance at you. One of your eyebrows is arched and the corner of your lip is quirked up in a small smirk, but you dared not comment on the captain’s speech mishap.

Fuck. So you did notice.

Before he could try to save face by dishing out some bullshit reprimand of being disrespectful for calling him by his name and not his title, the words die on his tongue as you lean in impossibly close and oh god your noses were almost touching, your eyes are even more beautiful up close, and what the fuck is—

“Captain,” you repeat. “Can you open your right eye please?”

Oh, right.

He doesn’t speak as he does what he was told. He feels his eye open but no vision comes to his senses. 

“It’s looking... not so good.” He hears you mumble, face contorted into one of concern. “It’s actually looking pretty bad.”

Levi scoffs. “Not one to beat around the bush, are you.”

You roll your eyes, the small smile once again returning to your lips.

“How long have you been keeping the eyepatch on?” You ask. Your hands are holding his head in place now, grasp a little more firm but not enough to hurt.

“An hour at most.”

“Are you lying again?”

He sighs. “Yes.”

You nod but made no further comment, leaning back to grab the clipboard once more to write down your observations. 

“So,” you start. “Are you going to tell me the truth or do I have to poke your bad eye?”

Levi’s lips turn into a frown at the notion. “I’ve kept it on the entire day. And I know you’re probably lying about poking my eye, but in case you’re not, no. I do not want you poking my eye.”

You nod your head again, writing more things down onto your little clipboard.

“You should let it breathe. Keep it on for an hour or two at most but take it off when you sleep. Too much friction with the eyepatch might cause irritation.”

As the consultation draws on, Levi tries (keyword: tries) to be as honest as he could. Not that he could be dishonest when you were so good at snooping out his lies, though. You were already used to his stubbornness.

He wasn’t lying, however, when he tells himself that his heartbeat did not speed up when your hands gently held his own as you changed his bandages and cleaned his amputation; he wasn’t lying when he tells himself that the tips of his ears were not burning a bright red, cheeks flushed as you asked him to take off his shirt; and he definitely wasn’t lying when he tells himself that his dick did not twitch in his pants when your hands caressed his abdomen and back, accidentally hitting sweet spots he didn’t even know existed, to inspect his still purple bruises and healing ribs.

Yeah, he definitely was not lying.

“Okay, I think we’re done for today.” You say cheerfully. “I’ll be back same time tomorrow for another checkup.”

He glances up as he finishes buttoning the last buttons on his shirt. The gloves from your hands are taken off and tucked back into your pockets, and you hand him a small vial full of pills.

“Take one of these, twice a day at most, whenever you feel pain in your right eye.”

“I’m not feeling any—“

“Sure you’re not.” You cut him off with a smile. “I believe you. But feel free to contact me for any pain or discomfort you feel at any time of the day. I’ll be more than glad to find you.”

Levi says nothing, opting to instead stare at you as you gather the now empty teacup and kettle, placing them back onto the tray along with your clipboard and pen.

“Oh, by the way.” You speak, walking towards the door and opening it. You don’t spare him another glance as you finish your sentence. “I don’t think I can prescribe any pills to lessen blood flow to your dick.”

The door shuts with a soft click behind you, and Levi’s momentarily mortified as he processes your words. He risks yet another glance, this time down to his lap.

Shit, he thinks before he sighs. His hands readjust the hard-on in his pants.

Nothing goes past your observant eyes.

“Name and business.”

“Y/N L/N. I’m here for your daily checkup.”

“Come in.”

Levi doesn’t bother to look busy like he did last week, you noticed, because this time he was actually busy. Which was odd considering he was taken off paperwork duty until he could write again.

“What’re you up to?” You ask, setting the tray down onto his desk and pouring him a cup of tea. Your eyes curiously glance at the papers scattered about his usually clean desk, each filled with indiscernible writings of his name.

“Trying to write. I’m useless until I can.” He mumbles before he scoffs. “This would be easier if I had all my fingers.”

You nod along to his replies yet made no move to stop him. You picked up your pen and clipboard to write things down as well.

“You’re not supposed to be using your right hand, your amputation is still too tender.”

“Tch, what do you expect me to do then?”

“Uh... use your non-injured, complete left hand?”

Levi blinks at your words, and he has half a mind to slap his forehead for being dumb and not thinking of that. Which he undoubtedly would’ve done had you not pushed the steaming cup of tea closer to his sitting form.

“Have some tea. You look like you’re about to pop a vein.”

Your smart remark is met with silence and a steely glare, and surprisingly, as Levi drank the tea you prepared, he notices it’s not downright terrible.

“Your brew’s better.” 

“Yeah. I finally took your advice of using a thermometer to get ‘the perfect temperature’ after you complained about my ‘shitty tea’ for the nth time that week.”

Levi hides his little smirk behind the teacup, silently reveling in his small triumph before setting it down. From the corner of his eye, he notices you eyeing something, and his heart drops as his gaze follows your own.

The mirror. He forgot to hide the mirror.

Discreetly (or as discreet as he could) he takes the mirror and shoves it back into his desk drawer. You had many questions, that much he knew, but he was thankful when you didn’t push it further.

“Shall we begin?” You ask instead.

“Yeah.”

“Name and business.”

“Y/N L/N. I’m here for your daily checkup.”

“Come in.”

Levi’s been trying to write again, you surmised, as you glanced at his focused eyes and the tenseness of his shoulders. Scattered papers still littered his desk and he was still trying to write his name. This time though, you were relieved when you saw he was using his left hand.

“Finally took my advice?” You asked, pouring him a cup of tea.

“Regretting it.” He doesn’t look up from his task as he answers, something you noticed he always did. “It’s been three days since I took your advice and my handwriting’s shittier than it was then.”

You smile, hand reaching out to hold his incomplete one that was clenched into a fist on the desk. He immediately stops writing, opting to instead stare at your hand atop his before glancing up at you.

“What are you doing?”

“Making you relax. You might tear your stitches.”

He feels you give his hand a gentle squeeze, and the warmth of your hand is suddenly gone from his own. You reach for the cup of tea you prepared, and he wills his cheeks to not show his blush at the small gesture. You slide the teacup across the table.

“What makes you think holding my hand will make me relax?” He asks snarkily. He reaches for the tea with his good hand.

“Are you relaxed?”

Levi ponders the question in his mind, noticing how his muscles were no longer tense, his shoulders were now slumped down, and his eyebrows were no longer scrunched. He sips the tea.

“Your brew’s still shit.” He replies instead.

“Name and business.”

“Y/N L/N. I came here for your daily checkup.”

“Come in.”

Your head peaks out from behind his door as you enter, closing it with your foot and making your way to his desk. You were no longer surprised when you saw him still writing and scribbling messily at his desk as he’s done for days now, and you discreetly eye the papers as you pour him his tea.

“You don’t have to keep bringing me tea.” He comments, still focused on writing.

“I know.” You reply. “But how am I going to perfect your brew if I don’t practice?”

Levi glances up, and he raises his eyebrow as he sees you sat on his table, a cheeky grin on your face. He makes no move to scold you for being so casual in his office and instead reaches out to take a sip of the tea. He notices your expectant eyes, the grin on your face widening as he nods in approval.

“Your tea’s not bad today.”

“Really?! You think it’s good?”

“I said not bad, I didn’t say it was good.”

“Name and business.”

“Y/N L/N. I’m here for your daily checkup.”

“Come in.”

The first thing you noticed as you entered Levi’s office was, of course, the scattered paper around his desk, face focused as he continued to practice his writing. The second thing you noticed was that he was no longer using his left hand.

“It’s barely been two weeks. Did you give up already?” You ask as you pour his tea.

“I write better with my right hand.” He simply replies, not even glancing up as you slide him the beverage. He uses his good hand to reach out for the cup, silently preparing his tongue for another unpleasant attack.

He takes a sip and his eyebrows shoot up from surprise. The tea was... delicious, absolutely delicious, and Levi couldn’t find anything to complain about. The temperature was right, it wasn’t too bitter but wasn’t too sweet, and the aroma was delectable. He takes a sip once more to double check if his taste buds were deceiving him, but the second sip was just as good as the last.

His suspicious eye makes contact with yours, a shit eating grin painted on your face as you eagerly awaited his feedback. The porcelain makes a sound as he sets it down.

“You bought this from the tea shop across the barracks. That’s cheating.”

“For fuck’s sake!”

Three soft knocks reverberate through the door to Levi’s office. The captain hastily hides the papers with your name scribbled on, shoving them inside his desk drawer. A shiny glint catches his eye before he could close the shelf and he pauses as he realizes it was his mirror. He hadn’t taken it out in a while. He was always too distracted with criticizing your piss poor tea to even think about his appearance.

“Name and business.” He calls out, still eyeing the shiny object.

“Hange Zoe. Y/N asked me to do your daily checkup.”

Levi's eyes widened, heartbeat stopping for a second as he heard Hange’s voice. Where were you?

“Come in.” He closes the drawer as the door opens and Hange walks in. 

Levi couldn’t help but notice that he was becoming uncomfortable the closer his friend got; skin prickling, hands sweating, his collar feeling a little too tight. Little by little getting more conscious of himself as Hange walked closer.

Was this what insecurity felt like?

He briefly wonders why he didn’t feel it with you, but his mind answers him with a simple fact: you were the only person who’s seen him mangled and bruised, and each time, you showed nothing but gentleness and care. Yet even with this knowledge, the notion that a person other than you would be doing his checkup today didn’t sit right with him.

He pushes his discomfort to the back of his mind, telling himself to remain objective. But it didn’t stop him from subconsciously adjusting his eyepatch and hiding his incomplete hand underneath the desk. He eyes the tray in Hange’s hands, spotting the kettle and teacup.

“I don’t want your shitty tea.”

Hange doesn’t look up as they pour him a cup, humming a tune Levi doesn’t recognize as they hand him the warm beverage.

“It’s not my shitty tea.” They reply. “It’s Y/N’s shitty tea. They made you a batch before they left for the mission.”

Levi’s good hand pauses for a brief second as he reaches for the cup, mind still processing the fact that Hange said Y/N and mission. You hadn’t mentioned anything to him, and since he wasn’t allowed paperwork duty until he could write legibly, he wasn’t aware of any missions.

“I see.” He takes a sip, and he immediately squints his eyes in doubt once his tongue caught taste of the flavor. “This isn’t Y/N’s tea.”

Hange looks up from the clipboard they were writing on, eyebrows are arched in curiosity. “What?”

“This isn’t Y/N’s tea. This is from the tea shop down the road.”

Hange’s confused face stays still for a few seconds, silently assessing whether Levi was being serious or not. A smile cracks on their face, turning into a grin as small chuckles left their lips, before finally turning into full blown laughter. The captain waits for the eccentric soldier to stop cackling and start explaining, but Hange’s answer only serves to confuse him more.

“Nice try, shorty. You crack me up.”

Levi ignores the remark about his height. “What do you mean?”

“Y/N owns the tea shop down the road. Made the recipe for the black tea you love so much, even.”

The captain’s good eye twitches, and if Hange notices, they don't comment. Levi takes a sip of the tea once more, a little more doubtful this time, before sighing in content as the drink makes its way down his throat.

“Why did Y/N go on the mission? I thought they were to be my caretaker until further notice.” He chooses to ask, placing the cup down and pretending to busy himself as he absentmindedly starts practicing his writing.

“Y/N is our topic medic, their skills are more valuable on the battlefield than in an office with you.” They reply, and the captain pretends that the truthfulness of the statement doesn’t sting the slightest.

“Besides,” Hange pulls out white gloves from their pockets, sliding the cloth over their hands to prepare for the checkup. “Y/N personally asked to be reassigned.”

Levi sputters and chokes on his tea at the sudden revelation, and he feels Hange’s hand patting his back as he tries to compose himself. You asked to be reassigned? But why?

“Why?” He manages to choke out before once more descending into a coughing fit. Hange silently hands him a napkin.

“They didn’t say.”

Perhaps you were done with his incessant criticizing of your tea making skills (if so, then why’d you keep brewing him a crappy batch? Clearly you could’ve made good tea whenever you wanted.) Perhaps you grew tired of watching over him everyday when you could’ve been attending to more injured soldiers in the medical wing or the battlefield. Or perhaps you felt a little cooped up in the office with him, hating that you were confined when you could’ve gone on missions to help the wounded.

Whatever your reason may be, Levi finally gets himself to stop coughing and wipes his mouth. Any questions he had, he would ask you. For now, he pushes his feelings to the back of his mind to ask a more important question.

“Why are you here and not on the expedition, Commander?”

Hange shrugs.

“I wanted to bond over eyepatches with you.”

Levi was trying, okay? He was really trying.

But god, the new caretaker assigned to him was nothing short of a complete and utter noob. His bandages were always either too loose or too tight, his touches every time he tried to inspect Levi’s scars were always an ironclad grip, and worst of all, his tea was pure and utter shit.

“Watch it!” Levi barks, and his caretaker jumps about two feet away from him at his yell. “What’re you trying to do?! Are you inspecting my broken ribs or trying to give me a broken rib?”

Oh, that too. His caretaker was the hands on type, something Levi wouldn’t have minded if not for the fact that his caretaker was also heavy-handed, and Levi had had enough of this bullshit.

“Stop it, just stop. Get out of my office, right now, and find me a new caretaker.”

“B-but, Captain, there’s no one else who can—“

His caretaker is cut off when he makes eye contact with the enraged captain. Levi’s eyebrows were knitted together in anger, and the glare on his left eye was nothing short of terrifying. The fact that he only had one good eye left did nothing to lessen the intimidation of his glare; if anything, it made it even more intimidating.

“I will not repeat my order. Go.”

The boy in front of him nods nervously, head bowed down and metaphorical tail tucked between his legs as he quickly scurries out of the room. Once Levi hears the soft click of the door shutting, he takes a deep breath and lets his body slump into his chair.

That was the fifth caretaker he��d kicked out this month. He wasn’t picky, he tells himself; he just had standards. Standards that apparently these damned amateurs they kept sending him couldn’t meet.

Briefly, his conscience contradicts him; the image of a certain top medic popping in his mind, one that he hadn’t spoken to in almost a month since they dropped him out of the blue. Maybe, just maybe, he was being picky. With a dash of passive aggressive and a sprinkle of butthurt. But Levi quickly brushes that thought aside when he remembers the incompetence of all his recent caretakers.

That was definitely it. He wasn’t petty, all his caretakers were simply idiots.

The captain hears three loud knocks on his wooden door, and he grits his teeth as he mentally prepares himself for whatever fuckery the clown caretaker they assigned to him was about to do this time. True to his words, Levi did end up breaking a rib from how heavy handed the last one was, and though he knew it was partially because his body was still quite fragile, it didn’t hurt his request for a new medic.

“Name and business.”

“Y/N L/N. I’m here to do your daily checkup.”

Levi feels his eyes widen and heart speed up, and he once again rushes to hide all the papers scribbled with your name as he shoves them into his desk drawer. He composes himself, trying to appear uninterested and professional as he speaks.

“Come in.”

The door squeaks open and Levi doesn’t bother to hide the way his eyes soften and his shoulders slump in relief as he sees the familiar sight of you. A soft smile dawned on your face as you gently kicked the door close, walking towards his desk and setting down the tray you held in your hands.

“Heard you fired everybody who came after me.” You mused, eyes teasing as you poured him a cup of tea. He didn’t think he’d miss someone pouring him a cup of tea as much as he did now.

“Their tea was shit.” He replies, taking a sip of the warm beverage and holding back his sputter at the god awful taste. “Yours is too.”

You chuckle, picking up the clipboard and pen to start writing for today’s checkup. “Can’t help that I suck at brewing tea.”

“You don’t have to keep making me shit tea anymore. The secret’s out.”

You freeze in your spot, eyes widening for a fraction of a second before you nervously clear your throat. Levi definitely noticed.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I know you own the tea shop, Y/N. Stop lying.”

You let out an irritated sigh. “Hange told you, didn’t they?”

“Yep.” He replies, popping the ‘p’.

I’m going to fucking kill Hange, you think to yourself, silently gathering your composure once more. Levi watches you intently, continuing to sip on the terrible tea before deciding that he’d assaulted his taste buds enough and placing it down.

“Why’d you do it?” You hear him ask. “And don’t lie to me. You’re not the only one who’s gotten better at spotting lies.”

Why’d you brew shitty him tea? Is he that affected by it?

Your reply was already on the tip of your tongue, head glancing up from your clipboard to say your answer. But your words don’t come out and your mind suddenly cleared when you saw the look in his eye.

Levi’s eyes were nothing short of gorgeous; a beautiful gunmetal gray with a gaze deadly enough to kill a man with one mere look. But right now, even though they were schooled into his usual look of disinterest, you could see him... wavering. A mix of unanswered questions, curiosity, and— for the briefest second you swore you saw— hurt.

“I take it you’re not asking me why I brewed you crappy tea for the past three months?”

Levi clicks his tongue in irritation. “No, you idiot. I’m asking you why you left out of the blue. If you had a problem you could’ve brought it up with me—“

“No!” You quickly interrupt. “No, god no, you’re perfect.”

The captain’s eyes widen, and you suddenly realize the words you’d spoken as you quickly try to explain before Levi could interject.

“There was no problem, okay? I didn’t request to be reassigned because I had a problem. It’s quite the opposite, actually.” You murmur.

He eyes you curiously.

“What do you mean?”

“I think I have a solution. May I?” You gesture, asking if you could sit on his desk. Levi nods, not understanding why you needed permission now when you’ve done it of your own volition countless times before, but he suddenly understands when you sit directly in front him and not across from him like you usually would.

He watches as you pull a small brown box from your jacket, placing it down onto his desk before opening it. Levi is quiet as he eyes the item inside.

“It’s just a prototype for now. I was hoping to carve out a better one in my free time, one that would be a custom fit, but my free time kinda went flying out the window when you started firing people left and right until no one would accept you but me.”

You pick up the wooden prosthetic fingers and gently place them onto his desk. Your hand opens palm up, waiting for Levi to be comfortable enough to lend his hand to you, and he does so silently.

“The prosthetic’s made from redwood and the joints are connected by small metal rods. It’s light and durable, and I weatherproofed it so it wouldn’t break down so easily when you use them.” You explain, unwrapping the bandages around his hand. “It wasn’t that hard to figure out the concept, actually. I just took a pair of standard issue Survey Corps gloves and cut out all the fingers. Then, y’know, attached the wooden fingers to where the pointer and middle should be.”

Levi could only nod. You weren’t sure if his silence was good or bad and you couldn’t read his look. But Levi— Levi was speechless. In his mind, he dared not speak in fear of looking like a fool. Especially not in front of the person who gave back a piece of himself (quite literally, at that.)

He tenderly looks at the way you fitted the prosthetics onto his own hand, fastening brown leather straps around his wrists to secure the glove. The minute the glove is on and he sees all five fingers for the first time since the explosion, he feels like he’s about to cry.

“I had Hange help me with the anatomy so you could still bend them as you would normal fingers. I couldn’t figure out how to make them move on their own though, so you’d have to manually do that yourself.”

To demonstrate, you bend one of the prosthetics, the wood imitating the bend of his finger but not springing back up despite his brain commanding it to do so. You watch intently as he fumbles around with his hand, moving the fingers about. The wonder and astonishment in his usually unimpressed eye didn’t go unnoticed by you, and it spurred  you to continue on.

“Unfortunately, it’s not strong enough to flick the switches on ODM gear. You still have to relearn how to hold your blades when you’re cleared for training again.” You say regrettably. “But it’s strong enough to hold a pen.”

Your hand reaches for the forgotten quill across his desk, dipping it in the inkwell before offering it to him with a small smile. Levi slowly takes it, still speechless, as he readjusts his prosthetic to hold the quill and write.

His writing is still shit, undoubtedly; still no better than chicken scratches as he messily writes down the words. But god, the sight of the indiscernible handwriting next to five fingers brought tears to his eyes as he finally finished writing his name. The slightly legible letters of ‘Levi Ackerman’ stared back at him.

Levi couldn’t hold it back anymore. He immediately set the quill down before standing up to engross you in a warm embrace. You tense in his arms, not used to Levi willingly initiating any form of physical touch at all. But as he tucks his head into the curve of your neck and his shoulders start shaking, splotches of wet dripping onto your collarbones, you feel your arms encircle his waist, bringing him closer as you whisper sweet nothings into his ear and let him cry in peace.

Your hands ran through his scalp, willing him to calm down. Though normally the sight of a crying Captain Levi was something you never thought you’d see, you couldn’t help but feel honored he chose to share this rare moment of vulnerability with you.

You let him cry, still holding onto him, giving him his time. Briefly, you wonder what he was thinking. What pushed him to tears? Did the captain ever let himself mourn his losses? Does he mourn his friends, his family, the little pieces of himself that he’d lost along the way?

Though you had a million questions in your mind you dared not pry as you continued to comfort the weeping man in front of you.

Finally, after a few moments of nothing but silent sniffles and your sweet words, Levi finds it in himself to finally speak.

“Thank you, Y/N.”

Night had fallen around the base, encasing the world in darkness that beckons slumber. Levi continued to stay awake, still in his office, staring at the prosthetic you had given him hours before.

Curiously, he feels himself form his right hand into a fist, not surprised that the two wooden fingers didn’t comply like the rest. It was imperfect and he himself thought it could use some tiny adjustments for the sake of comfort— something he definitely would bring up to you as requested.

And yet, despite knowing his ‘fingers’ were nothing but wood, leather and metal, he couldn’t help but think it was the best thing he could ever ask for. 

Silently, under the lone glowing light of his oil lamp, Levi pulls out a blank sheet of paper and begins to turn his feelings into thoughts, thoughts into words, and words into sentences as his quill meets the white surface.

Hours later, he finds himself in front of your quarters, a candle in his left hand while his right held a pristine white envelope. The envelope containing unsaid words, unspoken wishes, and hidden feelings.

Your eyes are sleepy when you answer the door, half lidded and hair a mess when his knocks had woken you from your slumber. You rub your eye, adjusting to the light as you stare at the person in front of you.

“Captain?” You ask, stifling a yawn. “What’re you doing here so late?”

He doesn’t answer your question. Instead, he opts to look at you with an unreadable expression as he asks, “Can I come in?”

You stare at him for a few seconds more, and the thought of you slamming the door on his face crossed Levi’s mind; but that didn’t happen. Rather, you nodded and ushered him inside your bedroom, closing the door behind him as you once again flopped onto your bed. 

He places the candle down on your bedside table and now he was unsure what to do. He had a plan— or, he thought he had a plan— but awkwardly standing in your room in the middle of the night wasn’t part of it.

Quietly, you chuckle at the sight of Humanity’s Strongest looking so odd and out of place, unsure and slightly panicked. You pat the spot next to you, inviting him to sit, and he complies.

Both of you had your knees pulled up to your chests and you were thankful when you noticed Levi had taken his shoes off before sitting on the bed. A comfortable silence encompasses the atmosphere in the dimly lit room. Shoulders touching, heads not daring to turn because of the close proximity. 

From the corner of your eye, Levi looked like he was deep in thought. Not the kind you saw plenty of times in the battlefield or in strategy meetings, not the kind you saw when you entered his office as he hastily tried to hide his mirror. But the kind you saw when he quietly suffered through his own living hell. 

“Couldn’t sleep?” you ask, finally breaking the silence. He shakes his head. 

“Well, what brings the mighty Captain Levi to my humble little room?”

“Levi.” 

“What?”

“Call me Levi.” He murmurs, downcast staring intently at the envelope on his lap. “In this room, I’m not your captain. I’m not your patient. I’m not Humanity’s Strongest.”

You feel your eyebrows scrunch as surprise and curiosity paint your face, but not because of the captain’s offer to call him so casually. No— the surprise you showed was because he unclasped the prosthetic you made, not even sparing it a second glance as he carelessly threw it to you, and you barely managed to catch the limbs you’d spent countless hours and sleepless nights to create.

“Levi, what are you—“

“But I’m not a broken teacup for you to fix either.” He says, eyeing the stumps on right hand. “I’m not a doll who’s missing some parts. I’m not a charity case accepting donations.”

You were looking at him now, head turned in his direction as he unclasps his eyepatch and lets it fall onto his lap. He raises his head, eyes making contact with yours.

“I’m just Levi.”

A few moments of silence pass but neither of you look away. The reason why the captain continued to stare wasn’t something you knew. But the reason why you never looked away was because of his eyes. 

Levi’s eyes were still as gorgeous as you remembered them to be. Though his right eye was a different shade from his left, a lighter and paler shade of gray; though it lacked the light and emotions his unharmed eye bore; though it had a jagged scar running through it from where he was hit, you couldn’t help but think that his eyes were still the most beautiful eyes you’d ever seen.

Gingerly, you lift up your hand to touch the right side of his face where his battle wounds lie, the prosthetic forgotten as it falls somewhere in the sheets. He doesn’t flinch like he did the first few times you did it, when you reached for his face during checkups to inspect his scars. But it didn’t stop you from asking.

“May I?” 

Levi doesn’t answer. Instead, he brings your hand to rest on his cheek as his head leaned closer to your touch. His eyes closed momentarily, almost as if he were reveling in your warmth. But they opened once more, and you willed yourself not to get lost in the sea of gray.

“You were never a charity case to me, Levi. Or any of the things you just said.”

“Then what am I to you?”

Your heart stops, eyes widening ever so slightly at his question. Would you tell him? No, you couldn’t. Not when—

“Don’t lie to me, Y/N.” His grip on your hand tightens a bit, not enough to hurt but enough to distract you from your thoughts. You realize the hand that held your own against his cheeks was his broken hand, his mutilated hand.

...would you really tell him?

You sigh, eyes finally leaving his. “You’re just another soldier who got hurt from a battle, asking a medic to take the pain away.”

Your hand slips out of his grip and goes back to your side, and you turn away from him once more. 

“Are you lying?” He asks.

“No.”

“Then look into my eyes and tell me what I am to you.”

“I can’t.”

Your voice cracks ever so slightly, hesitant but determined to stick to your words. And Levi knew that he was never going to get an answer. He sighs, shoulders slumping down in defeat. It was now his turn to look away from you, gaze falling to his lap. The envelope holding the letter crinkles and he’s reminded why he’s here.

“I know.” He whispers back. “But do me a favor.”

He doesn’t look your way as he hands you the letter. He doesn’t look your way when you silently took it, eyeing the red wax seal that bore his initials, fingers tracing over the edges before—

“Don’t open it yet. Open it tomorrow morning before you come in for my checkup.”

You only nodded in response. You reached out, placing the envelope on your bedside table before once again sitting next to Levi. Just as you had started, a comfortable silence blankets the atmosphere. Shoulders touching, heads not daring to turn because of the proximity.

But this time, it was he who breaks the silence.

“I don’t know what the future holds.”

“Hm?”

“I don’t know what the future holds.” He repeats. “I could die in action tomorrow and be one of the bodies they wheel back from war, or you could die trying to save someone in the battlefield. Even if neither of us die tomorrow, there’s always a possibility that we’ll die the day after that. And the day after that and the day after that. Such are the risks of our jobs.”

He takes a deep breath. “But tonight, I don’t want to focus on tomorrow. I don’t want to focus on what the future holds. I don’t want to focus on titans or enemy troops or looking after my team.”

“Then what do you want?” 

“You.” 

Your eyes soften. “But what am I to you?”

You didn’t know what to expect, what his answer may be. But you know you didn’t expect it when Levi’s fingers gently grabbed your chin and coaxed your head to look in his direction. You didn’t expect it when you opened your eyes and met his, his warm palm resting on your cheek. And what you didn’t expect most was for his eyes to look at you with so much love, so much care and adoration. Gone were the facades of boredom and disinterest; the stoicness and detachment they always seemed to reflect. All there was left was softness, warmth, and what seemed to be the unmistakable swirls of vulnerability.

“You’re just another medic too busy putting other peoples’ lives before your own.”

“Are you lying?” 

“No.” He whispers. “But you make me want to plan for a future I know we won’t have— a future we can’t have.” 

And for the first time, you knew he meant it. You knew what he meant. 

In your line of work full of death and violence and risks almost too big to take. In what you once thought was your little world, turning out to be too big for you to handle. In your personal brand of hell where tomorrow wasn’t guaranteed, and loss was the only constant— it was enough. This small moment was enough.

“You have the most beautiful eyes.” You whispered, entranced. A soft chuckle leaves Levi’s lips, eyes turning into crescent moons so fitting of his gray orbs and your heart twitches at the sight and sound of his melodious laughter.

His thumb brushes over your cheek and your eyes meet his once again, the beautiful shades of gray staring you back. You didn’t know who did it first but at this point you didn’t care enough to find out because slowly, you both leaned in. Slowly, you both closed your eyes. And slowly, you both tilted your heads.

He pauses.

“May I?” Levi asks, lips merely inches away from yours. You nod.

“You may.”

And suddenly, the distance between your lips was no more.

There were no fireworks, no explosions in your heart or butterflies in your belly. There was no feeling of cloud nine, no feeling of want or need. There was only warmth in your chest, the feeling of a small fireplace crackling and glowing in the coldness of the night. The feeling of warm sheets and warm bodies cuddled up in an embrace.

Home. 

The feeling of home.

Because that’s what you were to Levi, and what Levi was to you.

“Name and business.”

“Y/N L/N. I’m here for your routine checkup.”

“Come in.”

As the door opens and you set the tray down on his desk, hands gently holding the kettle to pour him his cup of tea, you noticed that Levi was still trying to write. But what caught your attention wasn’t the fact that it was no longer his name he tried to scribble, opting to write down complete sentences. What caught your attention was that he was wearing his prosthetics, and his eyepatch wasn’t on.

“Did you read the letter?” He asks. His hands were still writing and his eyes were still staring at the papers in front of him. But you could tell he was anxious.

“Yes.” You simply reply, and he nods.

“Good.”

alrightberries © 2020. do not modify or repost.

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[oogaboogasphincter]

The 50/10 Method (Agent Whiskey x f!reader)

Summary: Jack makes the most of your 10 minute study break. 

Word Count: 2.7k+

Rating: E (explicit) 18+ ONLY! bc this is just cringey smut lmfao

Warnings: smut (oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v sex (obvi use protection irl), very easily and conveniently reached orgasms (this is a fantasy i can do what i want skjfkd), dirty talk, one (1) allusion to thigh riding and one (1) instance of 💙spitting💙, fingering, positions i hope i've given enough detail so y’all can imagine what i was picturing💀), pet names (sweetheart, honey, cowboy *affectionately*, good girl, baby), there’s a sentence about reader having long-ish hair, reader and jack have a dog, swearing, reader is afab and is called things like good girl and the like, just overall trash grammar and structure 😇

Author’s Note: so this is very poorly written and extremely self-indulgent, as i myself use the 50/10 method 🙃. but i had a lot of fun with it, and i think that’s what writing is supposed to be all about! :) also i was heavily inspired to write this after reading “Take a Break” by @mellowswriting​ and “Study Buddy” by @pascalpanic​. please go check those out because they’re absolutely fantastic!!!!! +while you’re at it, i would highly advise you to read anything on their masterlists bc they’re just 💜exquisite💜

gif by @thernandalorian​

The lines of text on your computer screen are starting to blend into each other, creating a single run-on sentence that one of your previous English teachers would ridicule the author for. The sharp curves and angles that distinguish each letter from the next are becoming soft and dull, blurring into each other until your brain can only recognize it as a smeared streak of black on white.

It’s 11:00am on a Saturday, a big exam set for the upcoming Monday’s morning. You don’t feel rushed for time, or overloaded with unknown material, and the early hours of the day have been quite productive. Following a shared breakfast of homemade waffles in bed with Jack, your boyfriend, you didn’t complain when setting up your study station on the living room’s large oak table. If anything, you had been excited to begin studying early in the hopes of finishing your review by the end of the day. That way, tomorrow would be free for you and Jack to do whatever you pleased.

However, as the hours went by, your motivation was slowly but surely diminishing. The serene study atmosphere that you usually thrive in is now driving you mad. You yearn for a noise, any noise; a bird to sing a song in the tree outside your window, the smack of your dog’s loose wrinkles against each other as he attempts to shake the sleep out of him, a pencil unable to stop itself from rolling and dropping onto the floor with a tink.

You’re momentarily gifted with the crisp sound of a page turning. You flit your eyes over to gaze upon the source of your granted wish and your heart flutters in reaction to the sight: Jack’s resting on the couch, cowboy hat balanced on the back of it, deeply absorbed in the next installment of his favorite murder-mystery series. You find it curious that his desire for an adrenaline-filled challenge doesn’t stop when he comes home from mission after mission that nearly cost him his life. You’ll ask him about his insatiability one day, but for now you categorize it as fictional research for his Statesman assignments.

Your short glance quickly turns into an entranced stare. Jack looks... divine. Fetching. Luscious. As he’s lying on his back, neck propped up against the arm of the couch, his book balanced on his chest, relaxation radiates off of him in waves and utterly seduces you. You’re surprised that he hasn’t been a greater distraction to you throughout the morning. How have you managed to ignore the denim-wearin’, plaid-shirted, pornstache-sportin’ cowboy of your dreams that is only a few steps away?

Involuntarily, the thigh muscles of your crossed legs contract in an effort to bring some semblance of friction to your now weeping core. Similar to your imaginings of your dog earlier, you shake your head to force these heavy, unwanted feelings to dissipate and turn back to the work in front of you. Of course, Jack does the opposite of what you’d like him to do and takes an interest in your fidgeting. He peeks over the top of his book, “You cold, sweetheart?” 

His question is reasonable: you’re purposely wearing a skirt that’s so short it rides up quite high when you sit. You don’t dare to meet his eyes and answer while pulling a textbook close and opening it up, “No, I’m okay.”

Fortunately he returns to his reading. Your attention is able to retain itself for about a paragraph, but then your mind takes a sharp detour back to those pesky, steamy desires. You mentally huff at your inability to remain concentrated on your studies and rifle through the options of what you can do to satiate yourself for the time being. 

You could switch texts and force your brain to recognize the change and therefore become distracted. You could pick out some colored writing utensils and bring some fun to active reading. You could say fuck it, go straddle Jack and beg him to use you in whichever way he would like.

Jack interrupts your brainstorming, “Are you sure you don’t need a blanket or sumthin’? I can go get my jacket for ya.” 

The attentiveness of your southern lover melts your heart. You turn to him, “No, really, I’m okay, thanks.”

“I wouldn’t count a bathroom break as taking away from your 50 minutes, honey, if that’s what’s makin’ you twitch.” 

You had been implementing and strictly adhering to the 50/10 method all morning: study for 50 minutes, take a break for ten. Its effectiveness was never doubted, as it has proven to work for you for years. Only ten minutes into this 50 minute period, the devil of restlessness pokes at you and makes you think could time go by any slower? A hand comes up to cover the blush creeping across your cheek as you dismiss Jack’s suggestion, “No, that’s not it.”

Behind your embarrassed hand, Jack cocks an eyebrow at you. Your simple choice of words has given the Agent a hint, that there is something that’s bothering you, he just hasn’t figured it out yet and you don’t want to admit what it is for some reason. He returns to his book, however lost in thought about what your problem could be, while you task every cell in your body to pay attention to your studies. 

35 minutes remain on the clock, and Jack guesses, “Did you have too much coffee?”

You can’t help but grin at his sleuthing, “No, I just had my regular.”

He conjures up another possible solution five minutes later, “Are you itchin’ to get out of the house? We haven’t left in two days.”

He’s getting warmer. Both of you know exactly why you haven’t left the house in two days: you’d been occupied with activities of the sinful variety. You can’t gauge yet whether or not he knows he’s dancing around the answer, “Baby, you’re distracting me. And nope, it’s not that.” 

He smiles apologetically, “Sorry,” and uses his book as a partition, blocking your ability to procrastinate and just visually drool all over him.

Silence fills the next 20 minutes. Even though Jack is out of your sight, details from your observations exaggerate themselves in your mind to the point that they’re all encompassing, intoxicating. The way his jeans wrap around his legs ever so perfectly, the worn denim hugging those muscular thighs that he loves for you to grind yourself against when you’re feeling especially desperate (like now). How his plaid flannel slopes over the swell of his belly, stretching tight against his skin as his diaphragm contracts and deflating when he exhales. Even his large feet, strewn about lazily on the couch, his toes pointing in different directions, amuse you. 

Ten minutes remain in your study session. Feeling guilty about spending the majority of the last hour envisioning the seductive intricacies of your boyfriend, you actually start to study. 

“How many times do you think I can make you cum in ten minutes?”

Your eyes are ripped from your material and land on the menace lazing on the couch. He’s put his book down, one arm behind his head while the other is crooked, allowing himself to palm his cock through his pants. Jack’s wearing a shit-eating grin, bewitching your crossed legs to switch which one is on top; an excuse to apply more pressure to the yearning area between them. You fidget in the chair, shamefully trying to get the seam of your underwear to rub against you in just the right way. You shrug, “I-I’m not sure.”

He gets up and comes over to you, standing behind you and leaning forward to rest his chin on your shoulder. He murmurs in your ear, “I think we should find out during your next break.”

You turn to face him, “I think so too.”

He gives you a quick kiss, “Well, you better be a good girl and study for these last few minutes. Earn that break.” He places his large hands on either side of your head and turns it toward your materials, making you both laugh.

Somehow, you’re able to pay attention. Jack’s impending promise of ravaging you for ten minutes straight quells your jittering nerves and gives you something specific to look forward to. Before you know it, your alarm is beeping, alerting you that your break has commenced. Jack cages you by reaching forward and grabs the clock, programs it to ten minutes and keeps it in his hand. He grips the sides of your swivel chair, pulls it back from the table and spins you around to face him, the speed of the turn making your hair swoosh across your shoulders. Through mutual giggles, Jack lifts you up, winding your legs around his waist, your arms doing the same around his neck. “I want you to count for me how many times you cum.”

Breathlessly, you simply obey, “Okay.”

He practically runs to the bedroom. He sets the clock on the nightstand and turns the face towards the mattress so you don’t lose out on studying time. Tossing you onto the bed, your giggling continues as you bounce from the force. Jack hooks his fingers in your underwear and yanks them down, pulling them out from under your skirt and over your shoes. The way he wastes no time ridding you of any other garment makes blood and heat flood your center and air rush out of your lungs. He pushes your lost air back into your mouth with a kiss and then immediately retreats back to in between your legs.

He flicks the fabric of your skirt up onto your belly, letting himself have complete, unobstructed access to his early lunch. His fingers fondle your folds while his lips place sloppy kisses along the inside of your thighs. After he’s had his fill of that step, he sits back and stares at you: spread out for him, more than willing to take anything he wants to give to you. He blows out a whistle, eyeing your core, and you say, “Hey, you’re on the clock, cowboy. No time for dramatics.”

He nods, a smirk pulling at one side of his mouth, “You’re right, sweetheart.”

He spits onto your cunt, forgoing his usual gentle licks to adequately wet your pussy. A quiet fuck escapes your mouth as he plunges his tongue into you. Your fingers wind themselves in his chocolatey locks and pull, extracting an excited moan from your lover. His fingers knead the soft flesh on the backs of your thighs as he eats and when his mustache starts to tickle your clit, you’re done for. Your grip on his hair becomes vice-like and your whole body seizes up, constricted by enrapturing pleasure. You strangle out, “One.”

Jack unlatches his mouth only once he’s certain your first orgasm is complete. He stands, admires your wrecked expression, takes his cock out, spits into his hand and pumps his dick a few times. Hands slithering around your waist, he flips you onto your stomach and pulls your ass up, positioning you on your hands and knees. You’re a little bit dizzied by his manhandling in combination with his expert tongue, but this type of vertigo is the most enjoyable you’ve ever experienced. 

When he pushes into you, it’s a bit of a stretch because he hadn’t warmed you up with his fingers. He relaxes you by leaning forward, pressing his chest against your back and peppering soft kisses to your shoulder blades. The clink of his belt comically punctuates his thrusts, but your laughs are swallowed by intoxicated groans. You don’t know, and you don’t really care to figure out, how he already has you teetering on the edge of cumming again. Heightened senses tell you that you’re close; the fabric of his shirt feels unearthly soft as it brushes against patches of exposed skin, his fingertips are delightful lead in their clamp on you, his grunts and pants angelically reverberate in your skull. And then, suddenly and all at once, “Two.”

Jack’s pride shows itself in a smirk while he flips you onto your back. He makes a show of hooking your calves over his shoulders, eliciting laughter from the both of you. Resting almost all of his weight on top of you, your knees find your chest and his hands find your hair. The intimacy of it all is almost too much; his thumbs stroke your temples, palms cradle your head, those goddamned puppy-dog eyes bore into you. You turn your head in his grasp to check your timing: five minutes left. 

Jack’s tongue darts out to lick the pads of his fingers before he snakes it down in between the two of you to rub your clit. Your moans come out uncontrollably, your eyelids stutter and he eggs you on, “That’s it, sweetheart. Give me another one.”

Hearty moans are reduced to desperate gasps and you’re unable to verbally acknowledge the third orgasm that rips through you. Nonetheless, Jack can tell from the way your eyes roll into the back of your head and his name tumbles ferociously out of your mouth that you’re cumming. “’Atta girl.”

Jack takes his cock out of you and the whine that escapes your lips embarrasses you. He can’t help but laugh at your whimpering before he scoots down the bed and starts to eat you out again, framing his head with your quaking thighs. You find the strength to check the time, “Jack, there’s only a minute and a half left.”

He moans deeply into you, unaffected by your comment, and eases three fingers into your fluttering center. Like earlier, your hands fly to his hair like a magnet and find purchase so tight it makes your knuckles go pale. In a matter of seconds, circling your clit with his sopping tongue and tapping your g-spot with his deft fingers, Jack has you cumming yet again. This time you yell out the count, “Four!”

The sounds his ministrations make are lewd and exhilarating, pushing himself to his own precipice. You look down your body to find Jack’s other hand jerking his cock and his seed spilling out of him moments later. He groans into your pussy while you pet his hair, praising him for his efforts. 

Simultaneously, you both remember that you’re being timed. Your eyes meet the clock at the same time: 30 seconds. Jack springs from the bed and pulls you up with him, grabbing your discarded panties. He squats and taps your ankles so you lift your legs up, sliding each leg hole over your body and pulling your underwear up underneath your skirt. 

You fumble with his mussed clothes, stuffing his still-hard cock into his boxers, hiking his jeans up over his ass and zip and button them closed. You snake his belt around his waist and let his fingers do the work of buckling it before he picks you up bridal style and ushers you out of the bedroom, grabbing the clock off of the nightstand on your way out. 

Unhinged cackles follow you two down the hallway as you return to the living room. He plops you down in your chair, straightens you out, gives you a kiss on the cheek and then your alarm goes off. You raise your eyebrows at him, “Jeez, you didn’t waste a second.” 

He hums, then mumbles, “You get back to work now, babygirl,” and leaves you with a yearning kiss on the part of your hair.

Both of you return to your respective readings, hopelessly trying to downgrade your panting gasps to normal breaths. The absence of Jack’s warmth is already painful. But you rationalize that the indulgence of the last ten minutes is more than enough to get you through this next hour of studying, if not for longer.

Little do you know that Jack feels the same pain. His ache for your touch, sexual or not, will overtake him later and he’ll be unable to resist the temptation of coming over and distracting you again. Determined to finish your studying, you’ll propose a compromise: you can sit in his lap while he is lulled to sleep by the ambience of the afternoon rain and the enveloping comfort of you. The two of you can try to beat the record of four orgasms next semester. 

💘taglist: @pascalpanic​, @mellowswriting​

[taelme]

Enemies-to-lovers!Changbin

request: Hiiiii I read you bangchan enemies to lovers au and I swear if I could like a post more than once I'd like that one a MILLION TIMES I'm wondering if maybe you could write an enemies to lovers au for changbin pretty please? 🥺🥰 genre: enemies-to-lovers!au (again, not Super extreme, low-key clash bc they’re both stubborn), film club president!Changbin, childhood penpal!au (fluff, very mild angst, they bicker a lot, kind of cheesy bc changbin’s a sap and we know that) pairing/s: Changbin / Reader (ft some skz members)  word count: 17k+ tw: mild coarse language (they say shit a lot LOL)  a/n: THE ANON WHO REQUESTED THIS...IM PRETTY SURE you waited months for this so thank you for being so so so patient!! I decided to try something a little different from my usual style but idk if it’s That Obvious, but its more structure wise I guess, but nonetheless, I'll be getting a little busier soon so I’m not sure If I'll be able to put out Full one shots for the next few months but I'll try my best w those little shorter ones maybe! (I'll have to see how Tired I am) also p.s I love this gif thank u to whoever made it but changbin is blonde in this fic bc of Personal Reasons 

To: my penpal Y/N

How are you?

I had a good day today. Sorry if the paper is crunchy I am writing this on my bed because my mom thinks I am already asleep. Today I went out with my mom and we went to the park and ate some sandwiches at the park. We had a picnic but with no juice because my sister finished everything. And then we went to the toy shop after lunch. I saw a keychain of a camera and bought it for you because you like acting and cameras can take a video of you acting.

This is a picture of me next to the wishing well at the park, you cannot see it but i’m making a peace sign. I threw a coin in the well and made a wish that your audition will be good. I know you will do very well because you practiced a lot for it. That’s all. I’m a bit tired now. Goodnight, or good morning if you are reading this in the morning. Or afternoon.

I hope i’ll be hearing from you soon, Binnie.  

“So, do you wanna keep them? If not I can chuck them together with the rest of your old things,” your mom began, already reaching over to take the letter from you.

Your eyes widened just as quickly, shaking your head quickly as you gripped the envelope and its contents behind your back away from her reach.

“No, no. Don’t throw them away,” you said sternly, softening your gaze when you noticed the way her eyebrows had raised in amusement, embarrassment washing over your features.

“I’ll keep them. Gimme the box.”

Your mom set the beaten looking converse shoebox down onto the table, shaking her head at you as a small chuckle escaped her. Mental note to transfer the letters to a smaller (and more durable) box. 

“Alright, alright,” she waved her hands at you in dismissal, “hurry up or you’ll be late for school.”

She shut the door behind her with a light thud, leaving you to stare at the grainy polaroid your childhood penpal had sent you when you both were only eight and still exchanging letters every week.

Inhaling deeply, you shoved the polaroid picture back into the envelope, slipping it into the box of envelopes before getting up. You figured that was a box you wouldn’t have the time to delve into when you were already keeping Jisung waiting.

Driving as fast as you could (or as fast as you dared to) within the speed limit, you’d reached your campus soon enough. It wasn’t that long of a drive and it would be even shorter (walking distance to be specific), when you move into your apartment nearer to campus in a few days. But that didn’t change the fact that you were running late now, spotting Jisung standing by the fountain with a sour look on his face that had only deepened once he’d spotted you.

Before an utterance of apology could leave you, Jisung had pursed his lips, stretching out his hand that held your cup of drink, a small hint of a smile playing at his lips.

“I’m starting to wonder which one of us has worse time management,” he sighed deeply, shaking his head with feigned disappointment as he glanced at his nonexistent watch on his wrist.

Jisung was one to talk, for sure. His crumpled looking shirt over baggy cargo pants and a hat to cover his head of messy hair told you his journey to school wasn’t exactly ‘leisurely’ either.

You rolled your eyes, taking a sip of your drink and sighing at the taste, “it’s definitely you. I was only late today ‘cause my mom was showing me my old stuff she found in the storeroom.”

Jisung waved you off, “fine, whatever,” he fished his phone out of his pocket as you started walking towards the auditorium for a class you were both dreading.

“Oh, shit, Hyunjin says the professor’s already in class, we should hurry up.”

Quickening your pace, you were glad to have reached before your professor had started, Jisung directing you towards where Hyunjin was seated at the side of the auditorium, giving him a small nod as you sat down.

Not that Hyunjin noticed anyway, the said boy busy with messaging someone on his phone with a frown on his face.

“What are you doing?”

Jisung peered over Hyunjin’s shoulder, frankly not wanting to focus on the lesson as the professor played a video on boring business things he figured he could just ask you for later.

Hyunjin sighed, setting his phone down onto the table and pushing his laptop open further, going to his email with quick clicks on his trackpad, “gotta send the scene for the auditions later to Changbin.”

“Oh, for that film thing?” Jisung asked, earning a nod from Hyunjin, whose eyebrows furrowed as they remembered your presence.

“Y/N should audition,” Hyunjin nodded his head towards you, his mention of your name distracting you momentarily, but you’d brushed it off quickly as you tried to take down whatever your professor was rambling on about.

At your lack of response, Jisung nudged your shoulder with more force, “hey, did you hear what Hyunjin said?”

You tore your gaze reluctantly from your professor as your fingers finished typing whatever you had left in your memory, the confused look on your face prompting Hyunjin to take over.

“We’re having auditions later for the movie the film club’s gonna be making,” he started, nodding slowly as his eyebrows raised, “I was saying you should join, you’d be good for the role.”

You narrowed your eyes at Hyunjin, “what’s it about?”

Jisung huffed, “some cheesy penpal shit, the last I heard.”

Your quirked an eyebrow at that, Hyunjin rolling his eyes.

“Something like that, but it’s not super romantic. They’re childhood penpals who meet again in the future but they don’t end up together, I don’t know how to explain it to you as well as Changbin can, but will you come anyway?”

You scrunch your nose as you consider his offer.

Was there anything you needed to prepare? You didn’t even know exactly what you were signing up for. Or much less anyone in the film club. Well, other than Hyunjin, of course.  

“Is there any script I'm supposed to prepare with?” you asked, making Hyunjin’s eyebrows raise, his lips parting in realisation.

“I’m pretty sure it depends on what role you want…” he trailed off, making you scoff.

Not being able to help the laugh from escaping you, you narrowed your eyes at him, “you sound like you’re not even in the club.”

Hyunjin flashed you a sweet smile, “you know what? I’ll just send you what I sent Changbin. You can just prepare with that! Penny’s role!”

Jisung snorted, his hand coming up in a poor attempt to stifle his giggles.

“Penny? Is it because...she’s a pen pal?”

You pressed your lips into a firm line, finding it awfully amusing as well.

Hyunjin frowned, scrunching his nose up in distaste, “we couldn’t think of anything better, okay?”

You huffed, lower lip jutting out in a small pensive pout. You didn’t have much going on in terms of school productions as of now, anyway, you guessed there would be no harm in showing some support for Hyunjin.

“What time are the auditions?”

“They start from lunchtime until like five,” Hyunjin tried his best to recall, looking at you with his best pleading gaze.

Sighing again, you nodded, “this is my only class for today.”

Hyunjin was practically beaming now.

“Perfect.”

===

“I don’t like it.”

Hyunjin sputtered over his sip of coffee, an incredulous expression on his face, attracting looks from the other film club members in the dance studio. Excusing himself, he’d made his way outside, oblivious to the squeals and stares the girls waiting to audition were directing towards him, settling himself in the middle of the field outside the dance studio.  

“What do you mean, ‘you don’t like it’?” he asked you again, his eyebrows furrowed as curiosity took over him.

You sighed, rolling your shoulders back as you nodded at one of your teachers you were walking past, your grip relaxing on your phone as your arm had started to get tired.

“I mean, I read through the script, and something about Penny’s character just doesn’t sit right with me,” you told him, “it just… doesn’t make sense for her to come to that conclusion when she’d been having a perfectly good time with the guy before that, you know?”

Pausing, you’d waited for him to respond, his silence prompting you to continue with your elaboration.

“Okay, I’ll put it this way,” you started, adjusting your grip on your laptop in your arm, “If I were a reader, or like, a viewer in this case, I would wanna be able to pick up on these small moments or signs that Penny is actually thinking about her relationship, do you know what I mean? Because now the way it looks is that she’s just a plot device meant to hurt him, and that there’s no exploration of the development of their relationship at all.”

Hyunjin let out a deep sigh, “Okay, I know, I know, but the thing is… this was Changbin’s idea, and I don’t know if you’ve heard—I mean, you probably have, but… nobody really questions him.”

You hummed, following Hyunjin into the school building and tugging your coat tighter around yourself, the cold air in the building shocking you as you entered.

“Yeah, I get that, but you’re forgetting that I don’t have the same relationship with this Changbin guy that you guys do. I don’t mind telling him that I have a problem with it. I don’t wanna be acting out some two-dimensional love interest character if I can help it.”

Hyunjin grimaced, not seeming to be too keen on your insistence, “I really think it might be a little late for him to change the script.”

“It’s never too late.”

“Well to Changbin it could be!” Hyunjin insisted, making you roll your eyes, a small chuckle leaving you.

You huffed, “I still think the audience deserves a better film with better crafted characters.”

Hyunjin let out a sound in between a sigh and a groan, “Okay fine, you just have to make sure you get the role, and then you’re free to argue with Changbin all you want. Deal?”

“Deal,” You turned the corner and spotted Hyunjin standing in the middle of the field, already making his way back to the dance studio.

“Okay,” he spoke before you could end the call, “I gotta go, see you later.”

You didn’t expect there to be so many people at the auditions, mostly girls and just a handful of guys. Though you seemed to piece the uneven ratio together when you saw the not-so-furtive stares the girls would cast in Hyunjin’s direction whenever he’d peek his head out from the crack in the door to call the next person in.

You recognized one of the guys who’d come in later than you, one of Jisung’s upperclassmen friends whose name was Minho.

“Didn’t think i’d see you here,” he gave you a small smile as he took a seat next to you.

Shrugging in response, you let out an awkward huff of laughter, not used to talking to him about anything other than his cats and Jisung’s whereabouts.

“Yeah… well, Hyunjin asked me to come, so I figured I might as well,” you fiddled with the slip of paper with the scene printed on it, “not like I had anything better to do, anyway.”

Minho nodded slowly, leaning closer to you and dropping his voice to a murmur, “I’ve never seen any of these girls before.”

You huffed, “I’m pretty sure most of them are here for Hyunjin.”

“Oh yeah, makes sense,” Minho hummed, a small lilt of amusement to his tone, “where is he, anyway? He told me he would be here—”

Minho’s question was answered when the girls beside the both of you had erupted into harsh whispers and murmurs, tapping each other excitedly as Hyunjin could be seen through the window panel in the door, looking on seriously as one of the girls inside the room was auditioning.

You huffed, gesturing to the window.

“Found him.”

Inside the room, Changbin was distracted.

He knew he had a certain image in his head about what he wanted ‘Penny’ to be. But whatever the girls that had auditioned so far had been showing, that dramatic ‘i never loved you!’ emotion, that wasn’t exactly it. And it didn’t help either that they struggled letting go of the dramatics when Chan would prompt them to try a different angle.

Hyunjin cast a (mildly concerned) look at Changbin, trying to gauge his expression, figuring the pointed look Changbin had sent his way was enough to say he didn’t think this girl would be shortlisted.

“Who’s next?” Chan leaned over in his seat to peek at the clipboard of names of signups, Changbin leaning back in his seat and pushing the clipboard towards him, not finding it in him to be able to be more hopeful about the next person.

“Oh, Y/N,” Chan hummed, nodding with an impressed expression on his face, the name catching Changbin’s attention, “that’s cool, didn’t think they’d audition.”

“Y/N?” Changbin echoed, something about the name awfully familiar to him, yet not being able to make the connection in his memories yet.

So for now, he’d simply gestured to Hyunjin to signal that he could send the next girl in, Chan sweetly thanking the girl that had just auditioned as she left the room.

Making your way into the room, you scanned the ‘panel’ of judges.

You recognized Chan, the said pale-faced boy looking even more tired when he’d yawned as you made your way to the centre of the room. He came to your school productions often since he and Felix were friends, and Felix was always involved in some way or another. The other boy, though, you didn’t think you’d seen before.

The two of them seemed to exude completely different auras, with Chan smiling warmly at you and gesturing for you to come closer while the other boy sat with his arms folded across his chest, frowning at you as though you were a code to decipher.

“Hey, didn’t expect to see you here,” Chan broke the silence first, giggling.

You shook your head, “honestly didn’t think i’d sign-up either.”

You pressed your lips together in a tight-lipped smile, rocking back on your heels as you glanced at the boy next to him again, “I actually only heard about it from Hyunjin this morning,” you admitted, Hyunjin flashing Chan a grin from behind you as if to say ‘you’re welcome’.

Changbin cleared his throat, making Chan perk up.

“Right, sorry. So, we’ve obviously met but this is our club’s president Changbin,” he gestured to the boy sitting next to him.

Changbin nodded curtly, bringing his hand up to run it through his bleached hair and shoving his cap back on his head with habitual movements.

Now you were starting to understand why Hyunjin was so intimidated by Changbin, always having heard stories about him but only now being able to put a face to the name.

Nodding slowly, you gave him a smile, “nice to meet you, I’m Y/N.”

Changbin had to stop himself from faltering, his breath hitching when he realised why your name was so familiar.

After all, it had been the first candidate before they’d decided to go with ‘penny’. He wondered how cruel fate was to have brought you, someone with the same name as the person he’d practically based this story on, to be auditioning for the very role.

You tried not to be offended by the way Changbin had simply nodded at you, straightening up in his seat, “and you’ll be auditioning for the role of…?”

Would it hurt him to smile?

You inhaled deeply, trying to hide your amusement as you answered him, “Penny.”

Changbin nodded, Chan humming as he looked up from his copy of the script to give you another reassuring smile.

“Alright, whenever you’re ready. I’ll be taking the lines of the male lead,” Chan told you.

You understood that the scene was some sort of scene where the two romantic leads have some sort of confrontation, and you did your best to get into what you imagined Penny would be feeling, Chan reading the line asking if ‘penny’ had even loved him at all. Dramatic was the word to describe it, really.  

You softened your gaze, unintentionally letting it rest on Changbin but deciding to let it stay there, executing your lines all the while trying to ignore the way Changbin’s stare was unnerving you, making you want to prove to him that you were a good actor even though he hadn’t questioned your acting skills.

Hyunjin had been watching the exchange closely, Changbin’s grip on his pencil loosening as he’d let the pencil fall softly against the table.

Changbin wondered if it was some sort of coincidence, because whatever ‘it’ was that he’d been looking for in Penny’s character, you’d managed to convey almost perfectly.

And it was clear that Chan had felt the same way as well, since once your audition was over, the smile on Chan’s face was nothing but beaming.

Once you’d left the room, Hyunjin telling you that they would contact you by the next morning, Chan had turned to Changbin, the same stupid smile on his face.

“That was great!” he nudged Changbin, the younger boy still recovering from the shock of the coincidence of it all, managing to muster a small huff in response.

“Yeah,” Changbin reached over to grab his water bottle, prolonging his silence as he took a long sip, “I don’t think we’d even need to see the rest.”

Chris scrunched his nose up, grinning, “but you know we still will, of course. Just in case.”

Changbin sighed, glancing at the clock, agreeing with Chan even though he knew he’d already had his mind made up.

“Yeah, just in case,” Changbin mumbled, looking out the window and seeing you talk to Minho, tearing his gaze away and rolling his shoulders back.

“Okay, send the next one in.”

===

To: Binnie

How are you?

I’m okay. I like the picture you sent me of you using your scooter. My mom says you look nice. I think so too.

Today I went to the museum and I ate an ice cream for lunch. I don’t have a picture of it but it was a Strawberry ice cream.

I just finished reading your letter. Sorry to say it using a bad word, but i think what your sister did was stupid. I think you should still tell her to ask for permission to use your scooter. But if she still does not listen, maybe you should tell her again. Because my mom always tells me that if I want something, I have to ask for it. So you should do that. Maybe she does not know you don’t like it when she plays with your scooter. Or, you could buy a new scooter. Here is some money so you can buy a scooter. I drew you $50 because that is a lot of money. I hope you have a good day when you read this.

Till next time, Your penpal Y/N.

You weren’t the world’s kindest human alive, you had your petty moments. I mean, there were so many songs and literature and movies that highlighted that idea that no human was perfect, right? But you tried your best, surely.

So, you’d gladly complied when Hyunjin asked you to grab extra cups of coffee for Chan and Changbin (as reluctant as you were. You were strapped for cash as it was).

You figured that was the least you could do before the trouble you were about to cause the both of them. But hopefully, if office etiquette was anything to go by, the simple gesture would show that you were kind, and someone who appreciated the offer given to you, as much as you hated the superficiality of your character.

However, when you showed up at the room, you were reminded that Changbin wasn’t just anyone. And while Chan made his appreciation known, Changbin… was the same as ever. Intimidating, and very hard to read. The sight of it almost made you want to take back his coffee.

He wasn’t wearing a hat today. Instead, he’d let his blonde hair (which looked darker since the last time you saw him, or maybe it was just his dyed-black undercut) fall messily over his forehead in a slight side part.

His black shirt did nothing to hide his physique, every movement of his coming across as a subtle flex, making you have to remind yourself time and time again that you weren’t exactly here to fawn over him.

He would lean back in his seat, scrolling through whatever he was looking at in his phone with one hand, his other hand draped over his stomach and propped underneath his elbow to support it. The way he would look made it seem as if he was almost oblivious to the world around him, only paying attention to what was on his phone until he would laugh at something Chan said, Chan being the only person you’ve seen that managed to elicit seemingly uncharacteristic giggles from him.

Though it wasn’t as if you were given much time to get used to it. The moment Chan had murmured something in his ear, his expression had switched back to ‘strictly business’.

Chan straightened up, looking around the room with his eyebrows slightly raised in question, one hand adjusting the braided leather bracelet around his wrist

“So, shall we get started then?” Chan asked, gesturing to Changbin before typing away at his laptop.

Changbin took his cue, getting up from his seat and making his way around the table to the front of the room, pulling the overhanging screen up to reveal the whiteboard.

“So, first of all, we’ve finalised the actors playing the characters,” he gestured towards you and Minho, “Minho as Soobin and Y/N as Penny. So, we can start shooting about next week. I would say we’re working with a pretty loose deadline because we don’t have to submit it until a few months from now.”

Changbin rolled his shoulders back, his body language seeming fairly relaxed although his expression remained serious nonetheless, “but that doesn’t mean we should slack, obviously.”

His statement elicited a small groan from Hyunjin, who muttered a ‘figures’ under his breath, making you stifle your giggles for Changbin’s sake.

“But we will start with maybe going over the script once through, go over the technical stuff after we get any issues with the flow out of the way.”

He looked as though he were going through a mental list of things to cover, his gaze flickering momentarily to Hyunjin, as if his face would give him answers to the invisible question in his head.

“The people in charge of the props, have you started preparing the letters?” Chan stepped in, earning a shake of the head from the two girls sitting next to Hyunjin, making Changbin wave a hand dismissively in their direction.

“They could start on that after we confirm the script,” Changbin leaned over the table to grab his cup of coffee, proceeding to take a long sip from it.

“Alright, let’s start then.”

Changbin took the empty seat he was standing next to, pulling his laptop closer to him to pull up the script.

Throughout the reading, you tried to keep your comments to yourself, you really did. It just fascinated you how fearful the team was of Changbin (well, aside from Chan), the way everyone seemed to bite their tongues or withhold their comments caused a permanent frown to be etched on your face.

It didn’t make it any better that Minho seemed to have no problems with the script, not even when you’d occasionally leant over to whisper to him and ask if he found that part a little weird or a little abrupt. But you held your tongue for now, (and also because of the side glance Hyunjin would cast your way whenever you would let out a small sigh),  you wanted to give Changbin the benefit of the doubt, figuring maybe if he read through his script again he’d realise how one-sided it was.

But thankfully, when you were reading out the lines where the two main characters had ended their date, and on a particularly high note for that matter, it seemed the opportunity to voice your concerns about the script was presented to you when Changbin had spoken up.

“Okay, since the next scene onwards will be where their relationship breaks down, any questions so far?” He asked, though his tone didn’t sound like he was really asking for feedback. But, hey, an opportunity as an opportunity, wasn’t it?

You cleared your throat a little too harshly, raising up your hand as you leaned against the table to be seen better, “uh, actually, me? I mean, I have some feedback actually.”

Changbin looked at you curiously, his gaze landing on you with slight surprise, as if he hadn’t expected it to be you of all people. There was a slight hesitancy evident in the way he paused before giving you a short nod, prompting you to go ahead.

You smiled, ignoring the way Hyunjin had sighed deeply a few seats away from you, dreading the chaos that could have come with people like you and Changbin bumping heads.

“Well, it’s not really specific to this scene. It’s kind of about the whole flow of the plot in general…” you fiddled with the corner of the page you were on, “but I was thinking it would be better to show more of Penny’s point of view? You know, because when I was reading it it just felt a little… weird for them to suddenly break up if everything seemed to be going fine.”

Changbin narrowed his eyes at you, looking back down at his computer with a simple dismissive shake of the head, “That’s not necessary, they’re going to break up anyway.”

The room had fallen silent, everybody seeming to have taken that as a ‘end of the conversation’ kind of line, already beginning to bring their attention to the next scene.

You frowned, unable to control your expression as you made your dismay obvious, casting a desperate look to Hyunjin who honestly looked as though he would pay you not to pursue this.

“But that’s not the point,” you spoke, getting Chan’s attention as he looked at you, silently urging you to continue, “you wanted to show their relationship, right? So, shouldn’t you show… both their parts in the relationship? Since it’s not like this is told in Soobin’s point of view.”

Changbin pursed his lips, “the point is,” he brought his cup of coffee to his lips, taking a small sip before continuing, “their relationship was superficial so it doesn’t matter.”

You mirrored his expression. The way it sounded was that he was just trying to convince himself that it didn’t matter.

Your frown deepened, quick to respond to him.

“That’s the thing, if you’re so insistent on them breaking up, why don’t you just make their relationship lead up to that? The way they’re interacting up to this scene makes viewers think they’re just going to end up together,” you tried to reason, hoping Changbin would understand where you were coming from.

Minho took that opportunity to excuse himself to the bathroom, and as you gave the rest of the film club members a once-over, you hated the way they were all looking at you as if you were cussing Changbin out instead of just giving him constructive feedback, or just voicing your thoughts for that matter.

“Well, not everyone gets a happy ending, I guess.”

He was practically avoiding your message at this point, making you grow more frustrated.

“Okay, look, what’s your intention behind making this film?” you asked, watching carefully as Changbin huffed, looking fairly amused at your insistence, which only served to irk you more.

“Simple,” he shrugged, “to show people like you that not everything that seems so perfect ends up perfect in the end.”

Your lips parted, scoffing, resisting the urge to get up from your seat as you heard Minho re-enter the room.

“People like me?” you echoed spitefully, “okay, fine, whatever. But as you said, if that’s the point of your discourse, shouldn’t your message be to tell people that they can work through things like this instead of just giving up and leaving like Penny did?”

Changbin was annoyed now. To him, you seemed too idealistic to understand his reasoning behind the story. He wondered why it had to be you that was telling him this, you were the only one that was trying to find problems with his story, that he’d based on his own life for that matter.

“Well what if she did, huh? What if Penny did just up and leave with no warning?”

You rolled your eyes, hearing Chan struggle to stifle his laugh, your exchange with Changbin being just about the most excitement he had in the whole school year.

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, “which is why I'm saying that your job as a storyteller is to shed some light on the reason behind that. Then your story wouldn’t be about showing how things don’t turn out the way they seem, it would just be telling you, but not showing you. You could just ask literally anybody to hurt Minho—”

“Soobin,” you heard Minho correct from beside you, making you huff, scrunching your eyes shut tightly before opening them harshly.

“—Yes, Soobin’s character, and it would be the same? The story wouldn’t show me anything other than the fact that it was Soobin’s fault he ended up that way. He didn’t question anything that happened, he just let it happen to him,” you sighed again, clenching your jaw, “Penny isn’t anything other than some 2-dimensional plot device designed as an excuse for Soobin to sulk about how cruel love is.”

Changbin scrunched his nose up, his brows knitting in annoyance as he stared at you, a silence falling again in the room. Changbin was about to interject when Chan had decided that would be a good time to step in.

“C’mon guys, let’s… calm down a little. We’re talking about penpals here, not the king’s lover betraying him.”

You cast Chan a questioning look at his example, making him shrug, continuing, “we’re running a little overtime anyway, we can just continue discussing this another time.”

Just like that, the rest of the film club members seemed eager to leave, either rushing for their next class or just not wanting to be in the same environment as an irritable Changbin.

Chan directed his gaze towards you as you were getting up from your seat, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

“I’m sure Changbin will keep your points in mind, don’t worry,” he reassured you just as Changbin chimed in with a ‘no, I won’t’ behind him, leaving the room promptly afterwards, leaving you free to let out the frustrated groan you had been withholding.

“Thanks, Chan. Sorry I kind of made you guys overrun your time,” you sighed, watching Hyunjin making his way to you with wide eyes.

Chan shook his head, holding his laptop securely in one arm as he let out a burst of giggles.

“No, don’t apologize! I should be thanking you, I didn’t think about your point until you mentioned it just now,” he murmured, “but again, sorry about Changbin. He’s just a little… protective of his work.”

Hyunjin let out a low whistle from next to you, “Extremely.”

You nodded, shrugging, “It’s alright, I get it.”

Chan flashed you a smile, his hand reaching out to give your shoulder a reassuring squeeze, “Thanks, again. See you around.”

Leaving the room with Hyunjin, you ignored the way he’d begun to chuckle to himself, “honestly, in this whole time i’ve been in the film club, i’ve never seen Changbin actually… argue with someone.”

You rolled your eyes, kicking at the stray pebble “well if he continues like this, you’re gonna be seeing a lot more of it.”

“You sure seemed like you were having fun, though, weren’t you?” Hyunjin was being sarcastic, knowing he was just doing this to dissuade you, his tone eliciting a scoff from you.  

You shook your head.

“You know for a fact I wasn’t. But it wouldn’t sit right with me if I just kept my mouth shut like you and the rest of your film club goons,” you shot him a pointed glare.

Hyunjin pressed his lips into a firm line, holding his hands up beside his head in surrender, prompting you to continue.

“If I want something done, I’m gonna ask for it. It’s as simple as that.”

===

To: my penpal Y/N

How are you?

Was your audition good? Thank you for the money. But $50 is a lot of money so I don’t think I should spend everything, my mom says I need to save money. Thank you for telling me what I should do, but in the end I didn’t buy another scooter. I did this because we were learning about needs vs wants in school and I think the scooter is a want. My teacher says this means I don’t really need it. But needs are things like colour pencils and pens and paper so I can write letters to send you. Maybe your mom tells you you cannot buy so many stickers because the stickers are a want and not a need.

Anyway, I think I can just let my sister take my scooter. Maybe I will just get another scooter for myself when I am older and I have more money.

I hope I will be hearing from you soon, Binnie.

As you said before, you weren’t perfect, but you surely did your best. But days like this you wondered if people like Changbin even tried.

After your interaction with said stubborn being during your meeting with the film club had put you in a bad mood, you were currently seated with Jisung in a booth at a popular burger outlet outside school, thankfully having managed to get a place in the midst of the anxious afternoon crowd. And even more thankful that you could eat your lunch in peace where you were very much away from Changbin.

“What did you say to him, again?” Jisung hadn’t bothered trying to hold in his laughter as he was almost shouting over the noise of the crowd, making you huff as you bit into your burger.

“I said it’s funny that he was talking so much shit about the main couple when he’s dedicating his entire movie to them,” you drawled, your annoyance returning as you recounted the spat you had with him during the small meeting you had with the film club just before lunch.

Jisung’s shoulders shook as he laughed, fumbling with his drink as his eyes shut tightly, giggles leaving him and seeming as though they would never end, “and that’s what you said word for word?”

You nodded, reaching over to press the lid of Jisung’s drink down firmer before he could spill it all over himself.

“I know you’re friends with him but I really don’t know how you work with this guy, he’s as stubborn as stubborn goes,” you huffed, taking another bite into your burger as Jisung’s laughter had died down, though his smile had only lingered.

“You’re worse,” he snickered, earning a glare from you.

Jisung remained unaffected, “Look, he’s honestly fine once you get to know him,” he tried to reason, sounding as though he were trying to convince a child to make friends, “I mean, we’re all still kind of wary around him when he’s in a mood but honestly, if not for the way you guys met, I’m pretty sure you two would get along well. He seems like he’s your type.”

Your eyes widened, scandalised at Jisung’s implication.  

“The only thing he has in common with my exes is being annoying, okay?” you rushed to push away the curiosity of what Changbin would be like as a boyfriend. Curse Jisung and his stupid implication.

“And plus,” you continued, hearing the doorbell chime for what sounded like the thousandth time to signal yet another entry into the diner that was now overflowing with people asking for take-out, “it’s not like he’s been very nice to me since I got involved with his stupid short film.”

Jisung sighed, his gaze momentarily distracted by something behind you, making you wave your hand in front of his face to keep his attention. He’d glanced back at you, an almost dazed look in his eyes before he’d given you a small smile, taking a bite out of his burger and not waiting to finish chewing before he answered you.

“I honestly think that he just needs a little more persuasion. Like, take this for example, something similar happened with him and Chan when they were composing something in the past, and trust me, if you don’t give up now, i’m pretty sure he’d agree to come to a compromise or something,” he gave you a shrug, his gaze returning to whatever was behind you (probably someone cute, you figured). You couldn’t say you blamed him; almost all your conversations revolved around you and Changbin’s squabbles these days.

You pursed your lips, narrowing your eyes at him, “you really think he’d be willing to rewrite his script?”

Your tone was skeptical, already imagining how Changbin would simply tell you to keep dreaming if you’d brought up the proposal to him.

At Jisung’s lack of response, you’d frowned slightly, seeing him turn back to you calmly as his smile widened, giving you yet another shrug.

“Maybe you can ask him yourself.”

If there was any feeling one would get just before something bad was about to happen, that was definitely what you were feeling now.

You didn’t dare to tear your gaze away from Jisung as you watched him turn his body, his hand coming up in a wave that had only turned into a hi-five, his behaviour only adequately described as boisterous as he welcomed the people you were hoping you wouldn’t have to see for another week until the next film club meeting.

Well, Chan was fine, you were simply referring to Changbin.

“Oh, hey, Y/N! Didn’t know you and Jisung were friends,” Chan gave you a sweet smile, gesturing between you and Jisung as he spoke.

Jisung chimed in with a nonchalant “Best friends, actually,” which had only made you shoot him a glare.

“Might have to re-evaluate that,” you muttered, turning back to Chan and Changbin to give them as warm a smile as you could muster.

“Are you guys eating here too?” you asked.

You were oblivious to the way Changbin’s gaze flickered from your face to the food in your hand, and then back to Jisung, looking perfectly unaffected as he joked with Jisung about something you didn’t quite catch.

“Well, we wanted to, but, you know, with the crowd and all we probably won’t be able to get a seat,” Chan’s gaze was pitiful, to say the least, making Jisung raise his eyebrows, and that sinking feeling within you had only intensified as his next sentence left his lips.

Jisung had barely glanced at you as he held onto Changbin’s hand.

“Well, our booth’s actually meant to seat four people, so you guys could squeeze in if you want,” he offered.

Changbin quirked his eyebrow, skepticism written all over his features, though mostly directed towards you, “you guys really won’t mind?”

You glared at your burger, scrunching your nose up as you avoided Changbin’s pointed gaze.

Jisung scoffed, giving Changbin a loud smack on the arm, “of course we won’t, right Y/N?”

He turned to you, giving you a smile you could only describe to be devious (and fairly amused).

“Yeah,” your voice took a pitch higher unintentionally, “go ahead,” you murmured, scooting into the booth to make space for them.

You took another bite from your burger, watching out of the corner of your eye as Changbin took a seat next to Jisung, Chan excusing himself to retrieve both their orders.

“Funny that you showed up, actually. Y/N and I were just talking about your short film,” Jisung spoke, earning a pointed glare for you, as if daring him to continue (and you should’ve known that wasn’t going to faze him at all).

“Oh, were you?” Changbin drawled, his eyebrows raised and a slight smile playing at his lips, “I’m sure Y/N had a lot to say about that.”

As you were about to speak, Jisung had interjected with a little giggle, “she did.”

Changbin didn’t seem to take Jisung’s comment as an answer, simply keeping his gaze fixed on you, prompting you to produce an answer of your own. You ignored the knowing look Jisung gave you.

You sighed, “maybe I wouldn’t, if someone just took my suggestions.”

Changbin had let out a small huff at that, leaning back in his seat with his arms folded over his chest as Chan returned to the table with his and Changbin’s food, casting curious glances between the three of you seated at the table.

“Hope you guys didn’t fight while I was gone,” he joked, making you sigh, and you missed the pointed look he cast Changbin’s way when the boy had scoffed, “what were you guys talking about before I came?”

You shrugged.

“We were talking about the short film,” you told him, “kind of.”

Chan had perked up at that, turning to you as he handed Changbin his food, “oh yeah, I wanted to ask if you had more feedback about the scenes.”

You nodded, “I do, actually.”

Changbin’s gaze lifted from his burger to look at you as he sighed, “what is it now?”

You huffed, “It’s not that bad. I was just wondering if the content of the letters were gonna be read out during the scene? ‘Cause if it is, then maybe we could kind of make it a little more relevant to their personalities or something.”

“Will that be hard? What do kids even talk about in their letters?” Jisung laughed.

Changbin’s lips parted slightly before pressing them into a firm line.

“Well, they’ll be like 9 when they’re exchanging letters, I suppose, so I guess they’d at least know how to have a conversation… ” He sounded almost hesitant, making you wonder why he made talking about childhood penpals seem like such a complex thing.

You thought about your own penpal, Binnie. You were about that age when you were exchanging letters with him too, figuring you could give some insight on that until Jisung had intercepted.

“At that age all I did was talk about hot wheels, to be honest. Much less talk to girls,” he snorted, making you scoff, using your shoe to nudge his leg under the table.

Chan, who had been silently thinking, had straightened up abruptly.

“Wait,” Chan’s eyebrows lowered, frowning slightly as his lower lip jut out in a slight pout. He directed his attention to Changbin, pointing his index finger towards him, “didn’t you used to have a penpal?”

You had to stop yourself from making your shock too obvious, your eyes widening as your gaze became nothing but accusatory. How badly did his penpal experience go for him to be so cynical about it now?

Whatever it was, the newfound information made you curious as to exactly how much of the story he’d changed, more importantly, how much he’d retained.

“You?” you couldn’t help yourself from blurting, though Changbin remained unamused.

“Yeah, I did,” he bypassed your incredulous stare, answering Chan simply.

Jisung hummed, bringing one hand up to fiddle with his ear piercing, not having expected Changbin’s response.

“Oh, well, what was it like, then?”

Changbin shrugged, resting one of his forearms on the table to support himself, his other hand reaching down to pick up a fry, “was nice. We would exchange letters every week. Talked about a lot of things, sent each other pictures, you know, all that stuff.”

“Do you still keep in contact with them?” Chan asked, genuine curiosity in his voice, not having heard much from Changbin about this penpal in the entire duration of their friendship.

Changbin shook his head, “nope,” he popped the p, picking up his cup to swirl it around noisily, the ice rumbling as it got tossed around in the paper cup, proceeding to take a sip from it as the rest of you looked on curiously at him.

“Well, why not?” you dared to ask, a million different possible reasons running through your mind.

Maybe they did something to piss Changbin off, or maybe they got into a big fight (which also made you wonder how heated fights could get over snail mail), or maybe one of their parents disapproved of the other. The possibilities were endless as you anticipated just why 8 year old Changbin would’ve cut ties with his penpal. And maybe, you were enjoying the dramatic aspect of it a little more than you should’ve been.

But something about the way he replied felt restrained. Maybe you were reading into it too much, but he almost sounded evasive. But, of course, you chose to ignore (suppress) it for now, watching intently as Changbin had once again shrugged, an air of nonchalance to his gestures as he met your gaze.

“Just… grew out of it, I guess.”

You huffed, memories of your own penpal making his response sting.

You don’t think you ever ‘grew out’ of talking to binnie. You remembered how frustrated you were when you’d stopped hearing from him after he moved, and every letter you’d sent to his new address had only been returned back to you. Maybe he grew out of it, but you wouldn’t have left it like that if you had a choice.

You rolled your eyes at his response, something in your response seeming to have irked Changbin.

“What?” he snapped, making you hesitate just the slightest bit, deciding to bite your tongue and shake your head.

“Nothing.”  

Chan let out a huff of laughter through his nose next to you, shaking his head at you goodnaturedly.

“Forgive us, you always seem like you have something more to say,” Chan spoke, apparent ‘damage control’ for Changbin’s abrasiveness.

“Wait, so, you’re really not gonna have a happy ending?” Jisung frowned.

“Well, Changbin and I were talking about it after the meeting that day, we figured since we have time we could afford to change the script a little,” he hummed, turning to you, “you know, since it could be a chance to kind of send a more hopeful message like you were talking about.”

Your eyes widened, your hand almost reaching out to touch Chan’s arm but realising you were still holding your burger, “really? You’re open to changing it?”

Changbin’s gaze flickered momentarily to you, observing your posture, noticing how open and comfortable you seemed with Chan, the sight alone enough to make him scoff. Call him a cynic, but he couldn’t tell if this was you acting or not just to get your way.

“There could be another meeting for you to discuss and work on the script together, but yeah, we’re alright with changing it.”

You turned to Changbin, a hint of distrust in your stare, making him huff again, putting down his drink on the table with a little too much force.

“He said it, not me,” he told you, pressing his lips firmly into a tight line, “you wanna change my script so badly? Fine. But your ideas better be worth changing it for.”

Jisung scrunched up his nose as you turned back to Chan, not wishing to look at Changbin’s face any longer, leaning over to whisper to Changbin, “you two don’t like each other very much, do you?”

If he was caught off guard by Jisung’s statement, he didn’t show it.

Changbin shrugged, picking his drink back up, “they started it.”

At the sound of his accusation, your eyes narrowed, turning to glare at Changbin, thankful for Jisung nudging you under the table before you could retaliate with a comment of your own. Chan simply casting you an amused look, his eyebrows raised in a silent question of what you were about to do.

You shook your head.

Whatever, you pushed your annoyance away in your head, as long as Chan was there during the rewrite meeting, you’d hopefully still be able to maintain your sanity.

Or at least, that was the hope that you were holding on to until that night when you’d gotten a text from Chan.

Chan 11:17pm - hey, i gave changbin your number if you don't mind... you know, since you guys have to discuss to rewrite the script and all -

You’d almost sat up from your bed in shock, frowning against the harsh light coming from your phone and the contents of the text, the latter obviously making you more disgruntled.

11:17pm - won’t you be discussing with us?? Why not just make a group chat??? -

Your heart was pumping with anxiousness as you awaited his reply, something about the sound of the clock ticking putting you in an even more anxious state, your heart almost sinking as texts from him and Changbin had come in at the same time.

You looked at Chan’s first.

Chan 11:18pm - oh i didn’t tell you? All script writing is done by Changbin. I’m just in charge of the other elements like props and directing and whatnot -

You shut your eyes, suddenly wishing you could travel back a few seconds back in time and not have checked your phone when Chan had texted you. Bringing your fingers across your screen reluctantly as you typed a reply to him.

11:18pm - ohhh hahaha right i forgot, thanks chan -

Now for the bigger menace at hand. You swiped over to Changbin’s message, your finger lingering on his chat as you decided to stop being petty and just open it.

seo changbin 11:18pm - just so you know, i’m doing this only because Chan asked me to. we can go over the changes at my house. is saturday okay with you? -

You pulled your notifications bar down. Tomorrow was Friday, and from what you knew you were pretty much free on Saturday. Fortunately or unfortunately for you.

You took another deep breath as you typed out your reply to him. For your own sanity, you tried to ignore the way he felt the need to clarify that he wasn’t doing it for your sake.

11:18pm - saturday’s fine. What time?-

Resisting the urge to go offline when you saw him come online, you felt as though you were in some sort of staring contest through your phone as you watched him type, his message coming in quickly.

seo changbin 11:18pm -1? We could order in and discuss -

You sighed, it wasn’t enough that he had to take away one peaceful lunch from you today, but yet another one on Saturday.

11:19pm -okay text me your address-

Another sigh left you when you read that the address he’d sent you was just a few blocks away from your apartment. Maybe he lived alone too; most of the apartments here were occupied by college students looking for affordable rent and shorter travel time.

seo changbin 11:19pm - don't be late -

You scoffed, shoving your phone back onto your bedside table as you slumped back against your pillow, burying your head into your pillow and kicking at your blanket that covered your feet uncomfortably.

Fine, if he wanted to be that way, that was fine by you. You would just do this for the sake of the short film. Yeah. That’s all it would be.

===

“Let’s make this quick and painless for the both of us,” you blurted the moment Changbin had opened his door to let you in, glad to see he was donning an outfit similar to yours (sweatpants and a t-shirt), your previous worries of being underdressed dissipating instantly.

He let out a sigh, his hand coming up to run it through his hair, his hair messy and sticking up at one place awkwardly, looking as though he’d slept on that side for too long.

“Hello to you too,” he grumbled, shutting the door behind you as he gestured to the living room.

You glanced around his rather plain apartment as he led you to the living room, his laptop resting on one of the cushions of the sofa, soft music verberating from the device.

“What food do you want?” he asked, earning a thoughtful frown from you as you set your things down on the floor next to the sofa, taking a seat on the other side of it.

“Fastest delivery would be if we order from that Chinese food place nearby, right?”

Changbin’s eyebrows quirked up in intrigue, “I was thinking of that place too,” he handed you his phone, letting you order what you wanted before handing it back to him.

It was otherwise silent between the both of you as you waited for the food to arrive, neither of you quite knowing how to break the silence. The tension slowly made you grow increasingly fidgety as time passed.

Changbin had sat down on the floor next to the coffee table, resting one hand on his soft rug as he pushed a stack of papers towards you, drawing your attention away from your soft copy of the script on your phone as you realised it was a hard copy of the script.

“Just use this, i’ve got a copy on my laptop,” he mumbled, making you nod, accepting it from him as you flipped to where you left off.

Changbin glanced at the clock, in disbelief that only 10 minutes had passed and yet he found himself feeling jittery at your silence. Turning his gaze towards you, he let out a small sigh.

He had expected you to say something by now, or let out some snarky comment about something he wrote. Your silence was unnerving him, it was almost as if he wanted you to say something, especially with the way you were scribbling notes beside the pages with a mechanical pencil he didn’t even recall seeing you take out.

“Which scene are you at?” he blurted, his anxiousness getting the better of him, making your head shoot up abruptly, surprised at his sudden outburst.

“Uh,” you glanced back down at the page, “I’m at the part where they find out they used to be penpals,” you told him.

“Okay,” Changbin murmured, thinking about where to go from there, momentarily distracted when he’d heard the doorbell ring. Pausing, he’d stepped out momentarily to retrieve your food, the rustling of bags getting louder as he neared the table.

Setting the food down on the table, surprising you when he’d pushed the food towards you, your surprise hadn’t gone unnoticed by Changbin.

“What?” he scoffed.

You shrugged, “nothing, just didn’t know you were capable of doing nice things,” you told him, a sarcastic lilt to your tone.

Changbin inhaled deeply, shooting you a patronizing smile as he broke his chopsticks, “anyway, I think we could start from there, since that’s kind of the turning point of their relationship.”

You nodded, pulling your food towards you as you began to eat.

“I was thinking,” you spoke, pausing to chew on your food, “this part has a lot of unanswered questions, like… I wouldn’t just let it go so easily if I found out someone was my penpal that I grew apart from. I felt like they should’ve had a bit more of a confrontation there.”

Changbin hummed, shocking you when he’d leant closer to you to look at the script, making you push it towards him, a small huff leaving him at your action.

“What questions do you think Penny would ask, then?” he asked you.

“I don’t know, maybe why they stopped talking in the first place?” there was a hint of sarcasm in your tone, making Changbin look at you over his mouthful of noodles.

“I told you already, Soobin grew out of it—”

You grimaced at his answer, your chopsticks halting before your mouth momentarily before you shovelled your noodles in with annoyance, “I don’t believe that.”

“I used to have a penpal, and I can guarantee you, the reason why we stopped talking wasn’t because we ‘grew out of it’,” you told him pointedly, having to stop yourself from growing too riled up about it, Changbin tensing up at your revelation.

Bringing his glass of water to his lips, he let his gaze wander around everything but you as he thought, curious as to what your penpal experience was like. Finally meeting your gaze, he almost sputtered over his water with how much he wasn’t paying attention to his actions, the only thing on his mind being to get his words out.

“You did?” It was pathetic, really, that that was all he’d come up with after such a long pause.

You nodded.

“Yeah, but it doesn’t matter, the story isn’t based on my penpal, it’s based on yours,” you attempted to draw the attention away from you, unsettling feelings of sourness building within you at the thought of how you left things.

“So, think. What would you be curious about?” you prompted him, seeing him purse his lips, a certain dazed look tinting his gaze.

Swallowing his mouthful of food, he looked at you as he thought. He would want to know if they were still passionate about acting, he would want to know how their family was doing, he would want to know if their personality had changed, if they were still the assertive ‘go after what you want’ character that had encouraged him so much. Or maybe, just how they are.

Changbin’s lips parted, shaking his head slowly, “... so many things,” he murmured.

An unexpected tension fell between the both of you, Changbin’s eyes meeting yours with a sort of unspeakable thoughtfulness, as if he was still thinking about your question.

You broke eye contact first, “write that, then. Who knows? Maybe they’re both as curious as the other.”

“You’re one of those glass half full people, aren’t you?” he huffed, making you click your tongue in annoyance.

“And what? You have no glass at all?” you retorted.

“Would you still be… curious too? Even If it didn’t end well?” he asked suddenly, a stupid question, Changbin thought, but still something he felt compelled to ask in the moment, as if he wanted the confirmation that you, someone with a penpal experience as well had shared the same sentiments as him.

You nodded, “of course I’d be. I could hate you and still be curious about you,” you shrugged.

���Me?” Changbin asked, making your eyes widen, the tension dissipating slightly as you shook your head vigorously, your hands coming up to wave at him dismissively.

“No no, not you. I meant-” you stopped yourself, glaring at him, “I just meant it as an example.”

And for what you were sure was the first time, Changbin had laughed, beginning to feel a bit more comfortable around you, his eyes forming narrow slits and the apples of his cheeks rounding slightly as he grinned, soft breathy giggles leaving him.

“Alright, I get it. It’s not a secret that you don’t like me.”

You huffed, not being able to help but feel the need to reassure him, “you’re not… that bad I guess. Jisung talks you up all the time.” you said, unsure why you felt the need to reassure him that you didn’t have a burning hatred for him, “you’re just stubborn as hell.”

He scoffed, “I could say the same about you.”

You quirked an eyebrow at him, reaching over to flip the page, “glad to know we’re on the same page, then.”

“Now that you said it,” Changbin began, moving on quickly from your bickering as he shoved his empty food packaging aside, “I do think Soobin would be curious about the things they talked about in their letters.”

You perked up at that, eyebrows raising, “That reminded me, I actually still have some of the letters from my penpal when we were younger, if you want I can loan them to you for some inspiration or something.”

Changbin nodded, flipping over to another page before pausing to type something on his computer, “yeah, actually that would be useful.”

You continued to look at the script for what had become hours, the both of you deciding it would be easier if you each assumed one of the character’s voices, speaking on behalf of the characters as you discussed. Coming up with a ‘what would soobin/penny do?’ process.

All the while during this discussion, Changbin had been scribbling down in his beaten up journal, the sides of the spine of the book peeling off when he’d set it down on the table, making you grimace.

“Do you think Pe—”

“Why don’t you just get a new journal? This one’s making such a mess,” you blurted out, frowning at the way the little brittle pieces of God knows what material covered his notebook had fallen onto the coffee table, making him tear his gaze away from what he was writing, looking at the mess on the coffee table you were gesturing at and letting out an amused huff.

“Oh, didn’t notice,” he smiled, “but that won’t be necessary, this journal’s been serving me fine.”

“It’s literally falling apart,” you pointed out.

“And you’re literally exaggerating.”

You scoffed.

“I mean, look at it, it’s such a hassle to use, since you have to keep cleaning up whenever you do so much as touch it,” you reasoned, seeing him shake his head.

“I don’t need a new journal, I’m perfectly fine using this one,” he told you, making you scrunch your nose up in distaste, Changbin looking at you with amusement heavily laden in his smile.

It seemed that there was something about the hours of bouncing off ideas and bickering that warmed the both of you up more, not feeling as wound up or hostile towards each other as you did a few hours ago, bonding over a shared want for the short film to be good.

“What?” he asked, leaning back against the sofa and resting his arm on one of the cushions, his other hand grasping his fingers as he awaited your response.

“You sound exactly like my mom,” you had a sour look on your face, continuing, “I bet you’re one of those needs versus wants people.” You huffed in amusement, shifting in your seat as you flipped through the scene you were about to discuss.

Changbin’s lips parted in shock, a breathy huff leaving him, “and what’s that supposed to mean?”

You shrugged, “You know, those people that decide on buying things through the concept of needing it or not.”

Changbin rolled his eyes, “yeah, like any other normal person.”

“It’s so boring! Ever heard of the concept of treating yourself?” you huffed, gesturing wildly. You were clearly very passionate about this.

Changbin shook his head, the smile lingering on his face, “I’m starting to understand why you’re Jisung’s friend. Sure, a treat once in a while is understandable, but i’d rather not waste my money on things I could do without.”

You huffed, a deep sigh leaving you, recalling a conversation you had with Binnie about his scooter.

“What’s up with boys and this need versus want thing? My penpal said the same thing even though he was only eight,” you mumbled, a small breath of laughter leaving your lips, leaving Changbin frowning at your statement.

Maybe other kids just talked about the same things he did with Y/N? He brushed the thought aside.

“He did?”

Changbin’s voice came out more hoarse than he’d intended, the intent in his stare making you falter momentarily, forgetting what you were doing just for a second.

Thankfully, you’d snapped out of whatever trance you were in, shaking your head dismissively, “nothing, it doesn’t matter.”

Changbin tilted his head at you, narrowing his eyes as he contemplated whether to pursue it or not, watching closely as you busied yourself with flipping pages just to look busy, even though the inside of your mind was spinning with an indescribable feeling that came with convincing yourself that the drift between you and your penpal was merely circumstantial.

You chewed on your lip, hating the way it felt as though your stomach was churning as you remembered the disappointment you felt when your letters had stopped getting sent through.

You were young, surely you shouldn’t blame yourself, you believed that. Your finger fiddled with the corner of the page, staring at Soobin’s dialogue.

‘Did our conversations even mean anything to you?’ the dialogue read, and you inhaled deeply as your head lifted to look at Changbin, your abrupt movement almost making him flinch in surprise.

“Why did you really stop talking to your penpal?” you sighed, curiosity getting the better of you. Though at this point you weren’t sure if it was curiosity or simply reassurance. Maybe even closure. All of which you needed to satisfy.

Changbin knew you weren’t going to accept his ‘grew out of it’ statement for an answer, deciding to be honest with you, you know, for the sake of the short film.

“I just… stopped hearing from them,” he began, heaving a sigh of his own as he shifted in his seat, picking at the imaginary dust on his sweatpants, “guess they had nothing to say.”

You couldn’t lie about it, you felt relieved. A part of you began to understand why he’d painted Penny’s character out to be like that, or furthermore why Soobin had seemed so affected by the revelation.

“Nothing to say…” you echoed, as if trying to wrap your head around his reasoning as well.

A small huff of amusement left him, though there was a hint of bitterness in his smile.

“I wouldn’t have minded, you know.”

He took his lower lip between his teeth, letting it go and you watched as the blood rushed back into his lips, looking redder than before.

Your eyebrows knit into a frown, “Wouldn’t have minded what?”

Changbin met your gaze, giving you a resigned shrug, “hearing it,” he continued, “nothing, everything.”

You could almost feel your heartbeat slowing down, the tense silence returning in the room and making you feel like you couldn’t breathe. Now that was some dialogue.

“Oh,” you broke the silence, your blank expression reading pure shock, your reaction catching Changbin off guard, “write that down, that’s such a Soobin thing to say.”

Changbin couldn’t do anything but laugh, shaking his head at you, “how opportunistic of you,” he teased, though he wrote it down nonetheless.

Maybe you being here was good, Changbin thought, it reminded him not to take himself too seriously sometimes.

===

To: Binnie

How are you?

I hope you are not still sad about your friends. I would tell you not to listen to them but i know that’s difficult sometimes because you can hear everything they say. But they were being very mean so they are not nice people. I don’t agree with what they said, because i think you are very nice and you have a nice smile. I don’t think you are scary. Sometimes my mom tells me i should smile more so people think i’m happy but I think you should just smile if you are happy. If you are sad then you can be sad. It is not a bad thing. I’m your friend because you’re nice to me and I like talking to you. If they’re going to be mean to you then they’re not your friends. If they do that to you again you can tell me their address and I will go and tell them myself!

Till next time, Your penpal Y/N

You’d shown up on the filming set on the first day absolutely buzzing from head to toe and ready to go (though, when you told Jisung about how you felt he’d insisted it was because of the lack of substantial sleep and the cans of energy drink you’d both drank the night before while he was helping you prepare your lines), but it seemed that everyone on the set was more tense than ever.

You found Hyunjin huddled with a few of them next to the sound cart, deciding to approach them to ask where Changbin was, having bought a coffee for him along the way.

“Hey,” you called, Hyunjin jumping in shock as he turned, his hand over his heart as he winced at you.

“Why do you move so quietly!” he groaned, making you dismiss him with a wave. 

“Did something happen? You guys look stressed,” you took a step towards them, possible reasons fluttering around in your mind but none seeming quite appropriate for the context you were in. Maybe the semester’s GPA results were out?

“Whatever, do you guys know where I can find Changbin?” The boy next to Hyunjin, a freshman by the name of Jeongin had sucked in a sharp breath at your question, making you grow even more confused.

“He’s… a little tense these days, so I’d suggest being a more careful around him,” Chan explained, earning nods of agreement from the film club members.

Your eyebrows raised, confusion showing in a slight pout on your lips. You didn’t remember him behaving out of the ordinary when you’d seen him the day before.

“Where’d he go?”

“He’s over there,” Chan pointed towards where the camera was set up and true enough, you saw Changbin seated at a bench there busying himself with his phone.

Nodding, you’d made your way over to Changbin, discomfort growing within you at the stares you were getting from the club members (some of which you didn’t even know the names of) as you made your way towards the blonde haired boy. It was a wonder why they all avoided him like the plague.

Changbin seemed to have sensed your presence, looking up from his phone and giving you a small wave as you reached the bench, sitting down next to him and holding out his cup of coffee.

Accepting it gratefully, he’d given you a nod.

“Thanks,” he glanced at your hands, “you didn’t get one for yourself?”

You let out a small burst of chuckles, “nope, figured it wasn’t the most logical thing to do since i’m already pretty alert from last night’s energy drinks.”

Changbin sucked in a sharp breath, clicking his tongue in teasing disapproval, “I figured as much, Jisung was way too hyper when I met him at the studio.”

Your expression was sheepish, “I’d say I was sorry but it was... important.”

Changbin huffed, “It’s alright, as long as you’re taking care of yourself.”

Before you could react to his statement, Changbin had acted as though he hadn’t said anything, an amused smile playing at his lips as he tore his gaze away from you, looking forward as he took a sip from his cup, “ready to film today?”

You nodded, regaining your bearings, trying not to think too much of his words.

“Pretty much, you?”

Changbin nodded, “yeah, even though we still have a little bit of the script left, I would say i’m pretty confident.”

You glanced behind Changbin, spotting Hyunjin looking at the both of you with sheer disbelief, making you roll your eyes, turning back to Changbin, angling your body on the bench so you could hug your knees to your chest, looking at him curiously.

“Are you feeling okay?”

He nodded, looking at you with confusion written in his features, clasping his hands around his coffee cup as he rested his hands on his lap, “yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”  

Maybe it was just his resting bitch face.

“Smile,” you commanded, nodding your head when he’d looked even more confused.

You watched in amusement as Changbin had laughed, shaking his head before looking at you with an all too sarcastic smile, his hand coming up in a peace sign next to his cheek, a smile unknowingly making its way onto your face at the sight.

“Okay now, don’t smile,” you continued.

Changbin had let his smile fall, looking just the same as he did when you’d shown up, making you press your lips into a firm line, a slight knit in your brows as your eyes narrowed.

Turning his head, he straightened up.

“Cool, Minho’s here,” he said, getting up and holding a hand out to help you up.

“Thanks,” you muttered, not expecting him to turn around and give you a smile.

“Let’s go, Penny.”

It was strange to you that there was something that felt so familiar about his smile, it reminded you of something that made you feel nostalgic. You liked seeing him smile. Changbin had a nice smile.

You brushed the thought away, nodding as you took his hand, letting him help you out.

“What, so you guys don’t hate each other anymore?” Jisung groaned later on that same week when you’d told him about the exchange you had.

He lifted his head from where he lay on your bed, “God, with you guys it’s like everyday’s something different.”

You quirked an eyebrow at him in amusement, “well… that’s because it is, isn’t it?”

You spotted the box of letters from your childhood penpal hidden beneath a stack of novels you had yet to unpack, your eyes glistening with triumph as you reached into your storage closet, fishing it out with a grunt.

“Come to think of it, Changbin hasn’t said anything about you since that day you met him to rewrite the script,” he murmured thoughtfully.

Heaving a sigh as you got up from your squat, you closed your closet, “which day? We met up a few times for the script.”

Jisung perked up at that, sitting up slightly and supporting his weight with his elbows.

“You did? Why am I only finding out about this now?” he scoffed.

You rolled your eyes, walking over to your desk to set the box onto it, “I told you about it, you just forgot.”

Making your way over to the bed, you flopped down onto your belly next to Jisung, looking at him curiously as he frowned at you. His mention of Changbin had made you curious.

“He… really hasn’t said anything about me?” you dared to ask, regretting it almost immediately when Jisung had taken the opportunity to twist your words.

Jisung’s expression had changed to one that you were all too used to, how his eyes would give away that he was thinking of saying something to tease you, his lips curving into a slight smirk.

“Why? Do you want him to be talking about you?”

You wrinkled your nose, a small panicked scoff leaving you, “yeah, right. Don’t get too carried away there.”

Jisung prodded further, leaning closer to you as he drawled, “well, why not? I mean, you said it yourself, you guys are on pretty good terms now, aren’t you?”

You purse your lips. The film club had been nice enough to give you a month longer to work on the script, you and Changbin ending up getting carried away and doing the whole thing over. And of course, within that month, you interacted with Changbin in some way or another almost everyday.

It could be meetings at his or your apartment, or spontaneous phone calls when one of you thought of an idea and you’d felt inspired to discuss it (even if you were on your bed tucked into your sheets when it happened most of the time), sometimes it was even just simple texts checking up on each other and asking what the other thought about the updates.

Nonetheless, you’d grown used to Changbin’s presence, finding that after that meeting at his house, it was like it had softened the both of you up to each other, especially when you realised your perception of Changbin was all wrong and that really, he was as soft as softies go.

You gave Jisung a shrug, tugging the neckline of your shirt down, feeling as though the room had gotten hotter, “I mean, yeah, I guess. He doesn’t annoy me as much as he used to.”

Jisung let out a chuckle, the laugh bubbling out louder as he continued.

“You know if you tell me you like him now,  I won’t make fun of you.”

“You’re lying.”

“So, you do like him?” His grin widened, making you sputter for a better response, figuring you’d dug your own grave with that one.

“Don’t stir shit,” you narrowed your eyes at him.

Your reaction had only tickled him even more, clutching his belly as he sighed, “I knew it. Remember? I told you he was your type!” his tone was triumphant, making you regret fuelling his suspicions.

“Yeah, I’m sure you’re very happy about that,” you huffed, turning away from him and burying your face in your soft sheets, your hand coming up next to your head to smooth over the fabric.

You felt Jisung’s hand on your arm, his expression grim.

“Wait, so am I really right? You like him?”

You shrugged his hand away, though he hadn’t budged, giving up soon after.

“I mean,” you enjoyed your last moment of peace before you decided to reply to him, “he’s cute, I won’t deny that. And he’s become a lot nicer to me… he’s fun to talk to? I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little attracted to him.”

Jisung snickered, “that’s cute, but gross. I can’t believe you like Changbin.”

Trust him to only get that out of whatever you’d just told him.

You turned to give him a wide-eyed look of disbelief, “oh, please, you were the one that kept fluffing him up to me!”

Jisung had simply shrugged, unfazed by your outburst, a small sound of hesitation leaving him.

“I would say I did a minimal amount of fluffing. I just called it before the both of you realised.”

You grit your teeth, “fine, enjoy your moment. But one word about it to Changbin and you’re dead. Got it?”

Jisung’s eyes widened, his hand coming up to mimic zipping up his lips.

“Got it.”

===

“Cut!”

You turned to cast a desperate look to Chan, the said boy looking apologetic as he called for a stop again. You watched as he leant down for Changbin to murmur something in his ear, Chan nodding before making his way over to you and Minho.

“We’re thinking maybe you could try that scene again but maybe with just a little more… in the moment? Maybe try not to rush through it,” Chan suggested to Minho, making the said boy groan.

“Sorry, it’s my fault. It’s just- we’ve been filming for hours, if I wasn’t so scared of Changbin I would’ve—”

“I know,” Chan reassured Minho, giving the both of you a small smile, “hopefully we can get this scene done quickly and then we’ll all be free to go, hmm?”

You nodded, letting Chan make his way back to where the monitor was as you got back into position with Minho.

Changbin watched intently as you and Minho acted out the scene again, something about the way Minho was delivering his lines seeming so unaligned with the picture Changbin had in his head. Was it the lines that weren't doing it for him? Was it because Changbin couldn’t quite tap into the emotions of the character in this scene?

He wasn’t sure what exactly it would look or sound like to be in love, but whatever ‘Soobin’ was showing, sure wasn’t what Changbin wanted it to be.

After you’d finished the scene, the film club members had waited anxiously for Changbin’s greenlight on whether they were free to go, all of them anxiously looking on as Chan went to talk to a few of them at props.

You taken the liberty of making your way over to where Changbin was, seeing him intently monitoring the scene that you’d just shot, the reason behind why he’d made you and Minho run through the same scene 15 times starting to become clear to you.

“That’s not gonna help you make it better, you know?” you spoke, shoving your hands into your pocket and scrunching your eyes shut as you braced against the cool wind that was blowing your way, the trees rustling loudly as Changbin’s head shot up, the frown remaining on his face.

“What?” Changbin figured he came off as a little too annoyed, but he stayed unwavering nonetheless, wanting to know just what you thought you knew about him.

“You know, I watched an interview once, and this actor said something that was so true,” you began, taking a seat next to him, feeling his gaze on you before you continued, your gaze falling on the image of you and Minho on the monitor, “he said that playback makes scenes seem a lot more dissatisfactory.”

Changbin’s frown deepened, “I don’t get it, just spit it out.”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help but smile, “I’m trying to give you advice here, okay? As I was saying, be in the moment. Not everything’s gonna turn out like how it is in your head.”

You inhaled deeply, a slight shiver running down your spine at how cold you felt, taking a hand out of your pocket to tap him on the arm.

“Now can you wrap it up and call it a day? The rest of them have been dying to go home but they’re too scared to tell you.”

Changbin hummed, “They are? Why?”

You nodded, seeing Changbin already making to stand up and call for the rest’s attention, with you taking the opportunity to lean over to him and mutter, “Dunno, maybe they just haven’t figured out what a softie you are yet.”

Changbin attempted to press his lips together firmly to contain his smile, though eventually giving up and letting the soft smile be shown on his face as he dismissed the club members, the rest of them already having started shifting their equipment back.

You’d decided to help them shift the equipment while Changbin talked to Chan about something, trying your best to ignore the way the weather seemed to be getting chillier as all the equipment had started feeling cold to the touch. Mental note to start wearing warmer clothes out after today.

“Thanks for convincing Changbin to free us,” Hyunjin sighed when you were coming down the stairs after locking the club room, making you huff.

“He’s not some dictator, you know. You guys could just ask him next time,” you reasoned.

Hyunjin scoffed, “I’d much rather keep my life, thank you very much.”

Rolling your eyes, you pulled out your phone as you thought whether to text Jisung if he’d wanted to meet for dinner.

“You’re so dramatic,” you told Hyunjin, “I told him and I got to keep my life.”

Hyunjin scoffed, “that’s cause he—”

He stopped himself abruptly, eyes widening for a split second before he shrugged, “that’s cause you fight with him all the time, it’s different.”

You saw a text come in.

Changbin 8:14pm - do u wanna go get dinner? I’m done talking to Chan -

“Speak of the devil,” you murmured, erasing your drafted text to Jisung and replying to Changbin to say that you would wait at the quad.

Changbin 8:14pm - i was thinking of eating some cold noodles -

You grimaced at the thought, Hyunjin pulling you out of your thoughts, “are you waiting for Changbin?”

You nodded, sensing his hesitancy to let you wait there alone, “you go ahead, I’ll be fine, he’s already on his way.”

Hyunjin frowned, turning to see Changbin from afar already making his way over, Changbin having spotted the both of you and given Hyunjin a wave.

Waving back, Hyunjin nodded, “alright, I’ll see you.”

Tugging your jacket tighter around yourself, you folded your arms, hoping Changbin would hurry up so you could finally go somewhere with heating.

Though once he’d met up with you, you were a little confused when he’d gone a completely different direction than you’d expected, leading you to a traditional restaurant that served mainly soups and broths instead.

Don’t get me wrong, you were thankful for the warmth of the restaurant, of course, but just a little confused about why he changed his mind.

You let him order for the both of you, looking curiously from where you were seated facing him, leaning back in the wooden chairs as Changbin ordered from the older lady running the shop.

“I thought you wanted to eat cold noodles?” you scanned the menu in search of the item, confusion increasing when you found nothing of the sort.

Changbin shook his head, “figured you might wanna eat something warmer,” he admitted, making your lips part in surprise.

“How’d you know?”

Changbin didn’t know how to explain that it was because he’d kept looking at you during shooting and he didn’t miss the way your hands would clench and unclench the fabric of your clothes, or how you’d fold your arms more and shake them out in between takes when you thought no one was looking.

“…  just a wild guess.”

You brushed his comment aside, the both of you talking about your upcoming classes or complaining about readings that had yet to be read, the sheer boiling temperature of the stone pot making heat rush to your cheeks and spread through your body, thankful for Changbin’s wild guess.

Leaning back in your seat with your hands over your stomach, you sighed at how full you were feeling, already anticipating your food coma as you let yourself zone out staring at the label of Changbin’s bottle of soju.

“Are they really scared of me?”

You’d dragged yourself out of your daze (reluctantly), your lips pursing, “sorry, what did you say?”

Changbin averted his gaze, fiddling with his fingers under the table. Smoothing his thumb over the soft skin at his palm, his tongue poking at his canines before he looked back at you, meeting your gaze with a certain determination.

“The film club people,” he repeated, “are they really scared of me?”

You shrugged, “yeah, I guess. Like, they talked about it before… I guess it’s because you have that serious expression on a lot so they might take it the wrong way.”

Observing his expression, his lips had parted, a blank expression on his face, “I have a serious expression?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, tilting your head at him, “I think It’s just your resting face. They’re kind of wary of how they act around you during meetings, you know, which is why they had that kind of reaction when I first spoke up about the script.”

Changbin let his grip around his spoon relax, whatever rice he’d scooped into it dispersing into the soup.

“Then why aren’t you scared?”  

You almost snorted with how immediate your laughter had bubbled out of you, a bout of chuckles leaving you as your shoulders shook lightly.

“Because,” you waved your spoon slightly, “there’s nothing to be scared of.”

Changbin’s blank expression had prompted you to continue.

“I have no problem with you being assertive about what you want,” you explained, “I mean, if it were my script, i’d probably be equally, if not more, assertive about how I want it. But that’s a good thing about you. You don’t just… shut up if something doesn’t sit right with you. That’s something I’ve always thought was really important.”

Call him crazy, but Changbin couldn’t adequately describe how your words had done more in spreading a giddy warmth in his chest than the food ever could.

He wasn’t always like this. If anything, he’d wanted to say that he’d pushed himself to be more assertive after countless conversations with his penpal about not being afraid to speak up for what you want.

Though he’d always been scared of whether he’d be doing a disservice to the people he worked with if he chose not to speak up, he was glad that you reminded him just why he started doing it in the first place.

Penny’s character in his head had started to look more and more like you. And he was glad.

“You wanna hear something crazy?” You blurted.

You didn’t know where you were going with this. It was a spur of the moment kind of thing, really. You just knew that saying what you said to him had triggered a sense of what you could only describe as love within you. If you knew anything about it.

“What?” he asked, the smile on his face making you stop in your tracks. How could he remind you so much of someone, yet seem so much like a mature, upgraded version of them at the same time?

You couldn’t possibly tell him that you were starting to be kind of glad that you didn’t meet Binnie, because you felt like you were looking at him right now. And childhood penpal or not, you were so much more smitten with the one sitting before you.

“Nothing,” you breathed, “nothing, sorry, forget I said anything.”

Your revelation reminded you that you’d brought your old letters from Binnie for Changbin to tap on for inspiration to write the last scene, shutting your mouth and turning to fish the box out of your bag.

“I just remembered, you asked for these right?” you pushed the box towards him, seeing him pick up the box gingerly (as though it were that brittle old notebook he uses), placing it into his bag.

“I’m assuming they’re the letters from your old penpal?”

You nodded, “but don’t laugh when you read them, okay? He was really nice to me.”

Changbin huffed, his tongue peeking out to wet his lips, “yeah, yeah, no promises.”

After you were done with your dinner (Changbin paying for it as a supposed ‘thank you’ for being patient during filming), you’d prepared yourself to fight against the cold night breeze as you stepped out of the restaurant before Changbin, not having expected to feel a warm weight being draped over your shoulders.

“I don’t know why you decided to come out without a coat when you know now’s usually when the weather gets colder,” he tutted his tongue, feigning disapproval, not giving you any time to be shocked at his gesture.

He stood in front of you, tugging the coat tighter around you as he met your gaze, giving you a tired smile.

“I’ll walk you back to your apartment.”

You bit down on your lip, your racing heart and panic making the best reply you could come up with to be a mere, “didn’t peg you to be so gentlemanly.”

To which Changbin shrugged, a small smirk playing at his lips.

“I can be pretty romantic if I want.”

You were gonna get whiplash at this rate.

That same night (or day, 3am was a fine line), you’d received an email from Changbin of the last scene for the film, reading through it and having to stop in between for breaths and water breaks because you had no idea Changbin was capable of encompassing such romantic sentiments in a scene.

Looking at what he wrote, you would never have thought he was the same person that kept arguing with you about happy endings going to shit.

Changbin had written the scene in a burst of inspiration, having felt an almost uncomfortably foreign giddiness within him after returning home from your dinner, feeling even more motivated when he’d watched the film footage they’d shot earlier that day (unconsciously rewinding more than once to watch you act) deciding to just go with whatever he was feeling and write down the scene he had in mind.

And if anyone was asking, no, he totally didn’t picture you as Penny and himself as Soobin the entire time while doing so.

By the time you were done, it was almost an hour later, the aftermath of reading his scene making you pick your phone up and send him a text.

4:02am - did something happen? What’s with the lovey dovey script? Did someone finally change their mind about Penny? -

Not long after, Changbin’s reply came in, feeling thankful that he’d only decided to open your box of letters, or more accurately his letters, after he was done with the scene, something about what he found putting him in an all too thoughtful mood.

Changbin 4:04am -let’s just say... i took your advice-

===

“What do you think, Changbin?” Chan’s voice had snapped Changbin out of his daze, the latter looking at Jisung with a shrug.

“I would say you’re just short changing yourself if you didn’t talk to her. I mean, you said you liked her, right? So what are you waiting for?” Changbin sounded almost impatient, his tone eliciting a grunt from Jisung.

“Yeah, you say it like you’re not the one hiding your hopeless crush on Y/N.”

Chan’s eyes widened, not having expected Jisung to say it so blatantly.

Changbin sputtered, looking at Chan for help only to be met with giggles.

“I’m sorry, dude, it was really quite easy to tell.”

Changbin wanted the cushioned booth to swallow him whole, scrunching his eyes tightly shut in a wince.

“Whatever, that’s not the point,” he waved Jisung off dismissively, “we’re talking about your love life here.”

Jisung pursed his lips, shaking his head, “it’s not fun anymore, I wanna talk about yours.”

Changbin glared at Jisung, “i’m not having this conversation with you.”

“Good, ‘cause you should be having it with Y/N.”

Chan raised an eyebrow at the younger boy, humming in suspicion.

“Why do you sound like you know things...”

Jisung shrugged, raising his hands to give a dramatic shrug, “Do I? I guess we’ll never find out since Changbin ‘isn’t gonna have this conversation with me’.”

Chan turned to Changbin, who currently looked as though he would rather die than be here right now, “actually, what are you waiting for?”

Changbin brought a hand up to massage his fingers on his temples, a resigned sigh leaving him.

“I don’t know, I’ll probably not do anything until the showcase. I still don’t know how exactly I wanna go about it.”

Jisung snickered, “you’ll be fine, seriously.”

“Yeah, whatever, I’ll just enjoy whatever time I have left to think about it till the showcase. Now back to your issue… ”

But obviously, Changbin didn’t use his 3 days of buffer time very well.

He was lucky the atmosphere of the showcase and the unexpected crowd of people had prolonged the time until he’d be in a situation where he’d feel compelled to talk to you about it. Whatever it was.

You hadn’t noticed, obviously, the way Changbin had been keeping himself busy talking to guests and teachers that had shown up, people from the media and publications club. You were too busy being whisked away by your own friends and a already slightly tipsy Minho who thought it was a good idea to pregame drinks before the afterparty later on.

It’d only been when things started calming down and people were actually watching the film that you’d been put in a position where you had no choice other than to think about the boy seated in front of you tapping his foot incessantly on the carpeted floor of the auditorium.

Once the show was over, you’d leant forward, about to congratulate him when you’d both been whisked up by one of the teachers-in-charge, pulling you together with Minho onto the stage to answer questions from the audience.

The questions were fairly simple, most of them from the media and publications club trying to get technical details for their article, allowing you to zone out from where you stood on the stage, letting Changbin smoothly answer all the questions they could possibly throw at him. It wasn’t like Minho was in any position to answer them, tipsy and zoned out of his mind.

It was only when you’d heard him fumbling around with his words that you looked up from the spot on the wall you were staring at, turning to look at Changbin with an embarrassing amount of concern on your features.

“I’m sorry can you repeat the question?” you’d spoken into the microphone, hearing someone that sounded almost identical to Jisung asking how he got inspiration from the story.

You looked at Changbin curiously, as if silently asking if he needed you to step in, only to have him look at you with a blank expression, his mouth opening and closing as he fumbled for an answer.

“Oh, well, I’m sure I can answer this on behalf of Changbin,” you began, “we’d worked on the script together, and it was inspired by a lot of things, like our experiences with pen pals as well as movies like ‘you’ve got mail’.”

Changbin’s shoulders slumped with relief, nodding towards you as a silent thanks, the moment cut short when you were once again whisked away into different crowds to take pictures or to carpool to the afterparty.

Though you were bored 10 minutes into the party, Minho having gotten drunk before you could even get past your second drink, you’d let Changbin have his fun. You figured it was a good thing that he was being recognized for his efforts, even if he didn’t look like he was enjoying the attention very much. He needed it, you supposed, to be forced to see how much people enjoyed the work he made.

But you didn’t stay to see it too long, adjourning to the porch of whoever’s house you were in to enjoy an environment away from the loud music and too many people you didn’t know.

“Already bored?”

You’d jumped at the sound of Changbin’s voice, his footsteps loud against the wooden porch as he took a seat next to you on the swing, holding out his bottle of soda to you, “do you want some?”

You shook your head, seeing him shrug, “suit yourself, then.” He took a long sip of his soda, sighing afterwards.  

A tired smile on your face, you let out a deep sigh, “didn’t expect you to find me here so quickly.”

“How could I not?” he laughed, shaking his head, “In case you didn’t notice, I was suffocating in there, figured I deserve a break.”

“Good job, though, I’d say you handled everything well…” you started, your smile growing, “... though there is one thing…  I didn’t think you were the type to struggle with public speaking.”

Changbin’s lips parted in shock, scoffing, “shut up, I don’t usually.”

“Sure, you don’t,” you teased, bringing your hands to your sides to support your weight, letting your legs lift off the ground as Changbin used his feet to move the swing gently.

You leant back in your seat, enjoying the silence you were able to get out here as compared to the chaos going on within the house, noticing how tense Changbin seemed, his posture anything but relaxed as he’d let out sigh after sigh, tapping his rings against the seat of the bench absently.

“Relax,” you chuckled, “it’s already over.”

Doing the opposite of relaxing, Changbin simply stopped moving the swing, angling his body to face you more as he fished in his blazer pocket for something, pulling out an envelope from his jacket, “I have uh… something for you.”

Holding it out for you to take, your gaze fell on the colourful envelope, the little strawberry stickers you remembered using your savings to buy as you frowned at the address written on the envelope in your old messy ‘princess handwriting’.

Your gaze darted from the envelope back to him, “how did you… how do you have this?”

“I have it,” he began, letting out yet another sigh, “because you sent it to me.”

If it could, your heart would’ve stopped in that exact moment.

“Read it,�� he prompted when you’d stayed silent, your hands moving urgently to open the envelope, your heart feeling warm when you pulled the paper out, already being able to see the ‘To: Binnie’ written with your favourite scented marker.

To: Binnie

How are you? I’m fine. I am writing this very late in the night because I finished my rehearsal for my school play in the evening and I just finished taking a bath. I have to be quick or my mom is gonna scold me for not sleeping yet. I wanted to tell you that you should sign up for the competition. Which is why I have to mail this to you A.S.A.P as possible because you said the sign up closes in a few days. I think that you should just try it out, even if you don’t do well. Because then at least you can say that you gave it a try and you had fun. I saw this on a tv show, and they said if you don’t try, you will never know if it will turn out well, because you didn’t try.

So I’m telling you to try!!!!! Just try your best and have fun. I think you will do well.

Till next time, Your penpal Y/N.

“So this is me… trying… it. Whatever it is,” he sounded out of breath, almost, and your heart had begun to pick up speed at how it seemed as though this would be the time where he would confess his feelings to you (if Soobin and Penny were any guide to go by).

You should’ve known Changbin better by now, though.

“Thank you… for helping me with the film. You know, for giving me crap about it because I know that that wasn’t really what I felt. I was just… bitter, but for some reason, you giving me shit about it kind of reminded me why I liked being friends with my penpal- or, I guess, liked being friends with you, so much in the first place.” he was looking at you more confidently now, straightening up as he continued.

“It wasn’t because you gave me fake money to buy a scooter, or anything,” he laughed, “it was more because you were someone that was friends with me for who I was? You were kind, and you were honest.”

Changbin fiddled with the envelope in his hands as you tried your best to contain your smile.

“And you were especially supportive, you know, in your own argumentative way.”

You let out a huff of breathy laughter at that, your hand coming up to touch your necklace, finding something else to fiddle with to contain your anxiousness.

“I’m glad, though, that I didn’t know you were that Y/N,” he told you, “because I already grew to like this Y/N so much, that… finding out was just… a pleasant surprise.”

For the first time since you saw the letter, you’d spoken, a breathy, “me too,” leaving you, embarrassing you to no end.

“I’m glad it was you,” you murmured, averting your gaze, not having expected Changbin to have reached out a hand towards yours, hovering just momentarily before making the decisive action of grasping it gently.

“Me too.”

“So are you gonna explain why my letters—”

“Shh,” he shut his eyes, the smile on his face making you give in almost instantly, “don’t ruin it.”

===

“I didn’t know people even still sent letters these days,” Jisung snorted, sipping on his coffee that he’d just gone downstairs to buy, “here, you have one, but there's no name.”

You frowned, picking it up and finding the handwriting of your address awfully familiar, feeling as though you’d definitely seen it scribbled on a specific brittle old notebook before.

You flopped onto your bed, opening the letter as Jisung resumed playing whatever game he was busy with on your desktop computer.

Thankful for the distraction, you’d quickly unfolded it, scrunching your nose at his choice of pen name.

To: my penpal Y/N

This letter may just be over a decade overdue, but I wanted to firstly say I’m sorry for making you wait so long. That letter about my film competition, that was the last one I received from you, and one of my favourites. I figured it out, by the way, I gave you the wrong address. Phonics was a very tricky thing for my eight year old stubborn self that refused to cross check with my mom.

I figured sending you a letter was best, you know, since you know I'm not the very best at public speaking, or just speaking in general sometimes, I doubt I'd be able to say as eloquently what I wanted to say to you in this letter.

I wanted to give you a few updates. Firstly, I met someone in my film club. Well, technically I auditioned them for my short film so there’s no one to blame for the trouble they caused other than me. I didn’t like them that much at the beginning. I thought they were just trying to impose their stupid happily ever after beliefs on me, someone who thought I was a big bad cynical bitter man that didn’t believe in love stories.

As you probably guessed, they challenged me (a lot), and waiting to see them started to feel like the days where I would wait to hear my mom tell me that a letter came in for me, even better actually. They reminded me of the qualities in myself that I was always afraid of showing, and they reminded me what was so good about being unapologetic for who I was sometimes, because they accepted all of that, (but not without giving me an shit about it first, of course).

But i’m thankful, I’m thankful because I really grew to like them a lot. I liked how I could be comfortable being myself around her, and I liked how they would support me when I needed it, but also to correct me when I need to be corrected.

They were real, and I liked that, a lot.

So, the point of this was that if they ever happen to receive this, you know, (because I totally didn’t know your current address, obviously), I hope they know that I’ve grown to like them very much, to like the personality that i’ve come to know, and that i’m very excited to grow to know (and like) even more.

I’ll be seeing you, Binnie.

[fandom-will-be-my-fall]

Spill your heart out about Walter.

Okay so I basically got this question in what, January?? but I’m answering it now since I just rewatched the movie and have inspiration, sorry for the late reply Anon

Okay so, to start off this post with some keyboard smashing because that my primary go-to for expressing my emotions

sgklhfsgjksdlgdghkjlgjhOHUFLUSKHDGSLIDRGKJGKFSDHGlhjglksdhkglshglllllfa. knjcthxiudhusmnvsoidhéytbvonjyxclkkvbr. haeylicfvshdkgikc

HANDSOME BOY. HANDSOME. ‘NUFF SAID.

I could legit stare all day at his beautiful face… look at him. Enchanting sky blue eyes… fluffy, wavy brown hair, cute round cheeks, lovely smile… those hidden freckles that you can hardly spot and only in certain screenshots but nevertheless they’re there to raise the cuteness factor… ALSO HIS LASHES. MAYBE IT’S NATURAL?? MAYBE IT’S MAYBELLINE?? WE SHALL NEVER KNOW

Here you may be able to spot the freckles if you squint hard enough. I have 77 screenshots but this is the best example I could find.

Secondly… well, he’s a sticc. A short sticc at that (though still slightly taller than me bc I’m smol), but a sticc regardless! And that seems to be the most attractive cartoon body type for me. Don’t judge me, I just have a thing for twinks, I’m… twinksexual or whatever.

Look at him! He would fit through my doorcrack.

(Maaaybe the reason for me liking sticcs so much is partially the fact that I like the idea of a boyfriend I can protect and support, physically and emotionally. I’m mad at the universe for not letting me scoop him up in my arms bridal style and smooch the HECK outta him.)

I’ve encountered a few posts that claimed he’s got cake but, come on. That concept has canonically been proven to be false, even by Lance. This man is flat and you can pry this opinion off my cold, dead hands.

Speaking of hands! I like his big ol hands. Nice shape. They look soft. I wanna hold them.

According to a DVD commentary, and the visual facts, he has no shoulders whatsoever. Back in Venice Killian was able to restrain him effortlessly with only one foot on his chest, even as he kept struggling ans squirming and generally put in as much effort as he possibly could. Before then, he claimed the database was the first thing he has ever caught in his life.

Conclusion, our boi’s very much NOT athletic. Which makes sense for a scientist, braining all day and stuff, and because he probably barely even eats, or sleeps which are by the way both pretty concerning implications but anyway.

STOP BEATING UP THIS POOR FRAGILE LAD FOR GOD’S SAKE. Makes me want to protect him even more. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, but you get what I mean.

Now, on to the actual reason I’m so head over heels for him, a.k.a his personality.

He is one of the sweetest, kindest, purest boy characters I have ever seen in fiction, if not THE number one himself. (All my other cinnamon roll crushes are, or have been a villain at some point and WILL resort to violence if provoked.) Look at him, his pacifism… is unbreakable. He’s dead set on making the world a better place, by peaceful ways, and helping humanity. If that’s not a quality to be cherished then IDK what is.

And he’s just such a refreshing character. He likes pink, K-dramas, glitter, kittens, things that aren’t traditionally “masculine” (but is never made fun of those things in particular in the movie) and I love that. Nothing’s sexier than a man who’s, despite society’s shitty standards, openly and unashamedly himself!

His femininity is, if anything, just another turn-on. (This didn’t intend to sound sexual… but oh well.) I love his little hand gestures and mannerisms, dorky ramblings, the way he says “yep” popping the “p” at the end, all the small yet significant traits that were incorporated into his character. Bless you, SiD creators, bless you.

Have I said that he’s a genius?? Which is pretty obvious but c’mon, he graduated at 15!! He can modify human genes!! He successfully turned a man into a pigeon on the first try!! (The serum wasn’t the first prototype but we can assume he didn’t experiment on living humans with the previous ones.) And he’s still just 20!! Like what is that if not hella fucking impressive???!??

His inventions, to the untrained eye, may seem “stupid” or “childish” but alas! The observer couldn’t be more wrong! Because despite the odd designs and themes they’re all highly effective, as we have witnessed in the battle against Killian. And he is extremely creative for coming up with such ideas! Told you he’s brilliant!!

Which makes me all the sadder about how much they underappreciated him at the agency. In his words, nobody ever listened to him, or gave him a chance. They just left him and his “weird” ideas next to the men’s bathroom and called it a day. How could they be so blind? Didn’t they see the potential in his inventions? Oh well. Maybe I’m just being a smartass bc I have more knowledge, living outside that universe. But I’m totally right.

And I was honestly ready to throw hands with Lance for hurting the boi even further. (I’d stand no chance whatsoever, but still.)

Oh no baby please don’t cry.

He did cry in that scene though… you could see a tear rolling down his cheek and if it wasn’t for the machine beeping… He did have a pretty rough day afterall. But HEY, if we dwell on it too much the scene loses its comedic effect!! A guy gets sad over a stupid soap opera, har har har!! Now let’s move on, keep it fast and snappy for the kids, don’t let them overthink it!! Can’t have any emotional breakdowns onscreen. Keep it lighthearted y’know. Then let’s kill a random side character and have our dear protagonist almost die twice.

(Well jokes on you Blue Sky! I’m no kid, but a devoted fangirl who can and will overthink any material of my fictional faves at any given opportunity.)

You know what else I love about him though?? His love for animals!! And pigeons, especially Lovey!! He loves her so much, gives her gluten free breadcrumbs, nuzzles her, the first thing he does when he finds out Lance can talk to the pigeons is ask if she loves him too!! Like… That’s so pure and wholesome.

This here. THIS RIGHT HERE. BROTP forever.

(Not gonna lie, I used to be crazy for pigeons for like, an entire year or something. Not as in looking up all the facts there are about pigeons as I do nowadays with cartoons, but I’d feed them regularly and write my little observations on their behaviors. Did you know they sometimes scratch their neck with their leggies like dogs do?)

I think I’ve summed up mostly everything I love about this nerd. Oh wait, almost forgot the sass!! I love how sassy and smug he can be sometimes, in like, a really harmless way but it’s still a very nice characteristic.

Since I’ve ran out of coherent things to say, here’s an incomplete list of things I want to do to Walter Beckett. Put at the end of this post so those of you who were only here for the analysis part and not the selfshippy gushing don’t have to read further:

kiss he

like seriously

just kiss he a whole lot

cover his whole face in kisses

one kiss for each of his freckles. a finishing kiss onto the tip of his nose. then repeat the cycle

hug him. hug him like the world is ending. hug him so tight he can barely breathe

then ofc let go and apologize bc I would never hurt him on purpose

cuddle him

hold him close, let him lay his head on my chest

run my fingers through his hair

listen to his breathing

discover that he’s fallen asleep on me and smile fondly, then soon drift off to sleep myself so we can wake up entangled in eachother the next morning

fuck he

pin him to a wall and snog he

make him go cherry red

fluster he

compliment him. praise him. appreciate him. he’s a prince, a hero, an angel, a wonderful human being and he needs to know this

feed pigeons together

listen to his scientific ramblings and bird facts

write him love letters and give them to him. maybe read it aloud myself if I’m feeling brave so I can see his reaction in real time

serenade he

be the love of his life, and have him be mine

just… soft things, man

cook something for this malnourished sticc

make him small handmade gifts

they’re nothing like his gadgets but I tried

draw he

have him be my muse in general

not like he isn’t now but it would be lovely if he was real too

carry him bridal style

be the feral cryptid that lurks in his house when he isn’t around

sing along to cheesy pop-song together really badly

watch cheesy rom coms

flirt with eachother clumsily until we’re both laughing at our awkwardness

or, alternatively, shower him with compliments until he literally cannot handle it

have sleepovers together

give him hand kisses

be of emotional support

[firelxdykatara]

If Zutara were to be canon,thanks to Aaron Ehasz,how will this affect Legend Of Korra?

This is a difficult question to answer, mostly because it would of necessity rely on a whole lot of assumptions and biases, and without asking Aaron himself (in private, where he wouldn’t have to worry about kicking off another fandom war), it’s impossible to answer with any degree of certainty.

Now, I can talk about how I, personally, think things would have been different if Zutara had been canon–which, for me, means that the epilogue of book 3 was just the tea shop scene, and we got a book 4 where, as Aaron briefly mentioned on twitter and in various interviews, the consequences of energy-bending were explored, the lost Air Nomads were found, Azula had her redemption arc (which would probably have tied into the search for Ursa, which I would’ve loved to see Aaron’s take on in book 4, especially considering the crap the comics handed to us), and Zuko and Katara grew closer and entered into a relationship by the end of the season.

(Before I start exploring this in more depth, I want to head off ‘delusional Zutarian’ arguments at the pass–I’m not saying it’s 100% confirmed that Aaron was planning to make ZK canon in book 4. I am saying (as I’ve said before) that, given the set up and development in canon, and the way Aaron himself has talked about how he develops characters and relationships, I believe he (and other writers/artists/crew members) was leaning heavily towards that particular relationship and would have explored it further in book 4 had he been allowed to.)

Putting the rest under a read more cause this got long.

We know some of what Aaron had plans for–Azula’s redemption, the consequences of energybending, the lost Air Nomads–but nothing super concrete. Going from that, then, I believe that in Book 4, the Gaang would have split up for a good chunk of it. (Please note that most of the rest of this is pure speculation.) There’s a lot of ground Book 4 would’ve had to cover–the Gaang in the beginning would’ve split off to head to their respective homes (Sokka and Katara to the SWT, Suki to Kyoshi Island, Toph… ok, Toph probably just stuck around Caldera and this would’ve been a great time to have the Toph&Zuko life-changing-field-trip episode we were denied in canon) to touch base with the families and friends they’d left behind to go on their save-the-world tour.

For his part, Aang would’ve returned to Guru Pathik. While he got a last-second Hail Mary (in the form of a conveniently placed rock, which still boggles my mind, but whatever) when fighting Ozai, he still was not a fully realized Avatar, and since I’m bitter that the Guru Pathik/chakras plot was almost entirely dropped after the book 2 finale, I’m saying he’d have gone back to finally finish that training because it makes sense and because I can. Anyway, he returns to the Guru, and by this point he has accepted that Katara doesn’t return his feelings the way he’d like her to (a call back to The Fortuneteller, which should have been foreshadowing for Aang’s emotional growth, barring the last twenty seconds of the episode).

Furthermore, he’s learned that ‘letting her go’ doesn’t mean he can’t care about her or want her in his life to be the Avatar (after all, previous Avatars have had love and even been married–Kuruk isn’t that great of an example, given that his love life got him killed, but Kyoshi lived over two centuries and had multiple loves over her incredibly long life, and Roku was married and had descendants of his own), it just means letting go of his expectations–letting go of the selfish aspects of his love, the parts that lead him to nod in agreement when actors on a play told fake!Katara ‘I thought you were the Avatar’s girl’, and that lead him to expect her to return his feelings and push against her boundaries when she told him she wasn’t sure and was confused. (He said “We kissed at the invasion and I thought we were gonna be together, but we’re not.” even though a) he kissed her without any warning, she did not kiss him, and she looked away and frowned afterwards, and b) she never once brought up the kiss again or hinted that her feelings towards him had changed and become romantic, so he had no reason to believe they’d ‘be together’.)

Ok that was a bit of a tangent, but the upshot is, Guru Pathik helps Aang fully master the Avatar State. While on that particular journey, Aang has to deal with the consequences of energybending–he pulled Ozai’s energy into himself, and he has to deal with the sudden darkness that was absorbed into his spirit. He also receives some sort of hint, possibly from a dream or meeting with a spirit, that with balance returning to the world, the Air Nomads can start to return, too.

Sokka, Suki, and Toph wind up going with Aang on his journey to figure out just what the spirits meant by that. They discover that the Air Nomads weren’t totally eradicated by Sozin (which would’ve been impossible, since we already know that inter-nation relationships happened in the past [Avatar Kyoshi’s mother was an airbender], and they were, well… nomads), but those who survived (because they weren’t at the temples at the time, or some who hadn’t attained mastery managed to escape) assimilated into the Earth Kingdom and even some in the Fire Nation. Because the world was incredibly out of balance following the decimation of the Air Nomad population, and because many of them were suddenly in a situation where showing they were airbenders was a death sentence, their spirit as a population was almost completely broken, and they stopped being able to airbend. In the present, Aang finds descendants of Air Nomad survivors, including Ty Lee (and, in my HC, Jet, who shows up alive bc I want him to get the healing arc he didn’t get in canon) who are beginning to discover they can airbend.

Meanwhile, Zuko asked Katara to accompany him on his journey to find his mother–it’s a callback to TSR, when he helped her gain closure for her mother’s murder, and since he wants to bring Azula too, he asked for Katara’s help sister-wrangling. They eventually find Ursa (who did not willingly forget her children, and who did not send a letter to her former lover to make Ozai question Zuko’s paternity, because in the show she was not a horrible person and she loved her children more than anything tyvm), as well as Kiyi (the only good thing to come out of that comic), and Azula finally gets the sort of closure she could never have before, and there is a heavy focus on her emotional journey. Zuko is there to support her, and Katara is there to support Zuko. In the process, Katara winds up with an odd sort of mildly antagonistic friendship with Azula, who gets to a point where she can good-naturedly tease Katara about her growing feelings for Zuko.

ANYWAY. I realize you were asking primarily how it would affect LoK, and I went on a whole ass book 4 tangent. So here’s how I see it changing the landscape in LoK.

First of all, Katara is granted the importance she is due. She has a statue in most major cities, including both Caldera and Republic City. Katara married Zuko and became one of the most beloved Fire Ladies in Fire Nation history, partly because she didn’t assimilate and give up her own home and culture, and she never hesitated to speak her mind during council meetings. It put off much of the nobility, especially in the first few years of their marriage, but Zuko had survived many an assassination attempt by then, and he valued his wife’s input above his closest advisors and never made a secret of it. The nobles could either accept it or risk losing their titles, which several of them did because they figured the Fire Lord was bluffing, only to find out he wasn’t in the slightest.

Katara was also active in the White Lotus, which she wound up leading along with Sokka and Zuko (who’d passed the mantle of Fire Lord onto their eldest daughter, Izumi, once they felt she was ready to lead), and when Aang passed away, they immediately began the search for the next Avatar.

Most of Korra’s early life would’ve been the same, Katara and Sokka saved her from the Red Lotus’ kidnapping attempt, and she wound up raised at the White Lotus compound where she learned waterbending, firebending, and earthbending, and was on the cusp of learning airbending from Tenzin (who was Aang’s kid with someone else–given his design, his mother could’ve been literally anyone, Toph or one of the returned Air Nomads or someone else entirely) when he got called back to Republic City, and she followed.

From here, well… ok, there’s a lot I would change about LoK just in general. Thinking specifically of how Zutara would have affected things, and with the stipulation that Aaron was still the head writer for LoK, I like to think that Katara wouldn’t have been rendered weak and useless (seriously, a bloodbender locked away Korra’s bending, but Katara–allegedly the most powerful waterbender alive, and the one who single-handedly got bloodbending outlawed–couldn’t undo it with bloodbending???), and would have been allowed to, for example, fight to protect her family (while Tenzin and his children wouldn’t have been her direct relations [unless, instead of Pema, he wound up marrying Zuko and Katara’s youngest daughter??? that’s an idea], they would still have been family, as Aang’s only living descendants) and taken a more active part in the water tribe civil war (which would have been given the narrative arc it was due instead of being a half-assed vehicle for ridiculous spirit world shenanigans). And besides, a gaang reunion episode where Zuko, Katara, Suki (because screw LoK for having her just up and disappear lmfao) and Toph fight the Red Lotus together just like old times??? That would’ve been fucking amazing.

(We got to see old ass men in AtLA fight like they were in their prime, including one who was over a century old. What was LoK’s excuse???)

Since we got the return of the Air Nomads in book 4 of LoK there would be no need for the spirit portals or the ‘harmonic convergence’, and instead Korra’s spiritual journey hinges on her trauma from the end of Book 1. The biggest difference, here, is that I have always been incredibly dissatisfied with the fact that Korra just stared sadly over the edge of a cliff and was suddenly able to unlock the Avatar State and get her bending back. Keeping in mind the way Aaron Ehasz excelled at character journeys in the original show, I think she should have ended book 1 with her bending locked completely. Katara was able to reverse whatever it was Amon did to her (and Amon, by the way, didn’t get killed–the Equalists also didn’t just disappear, and the thread of nonbender oppression carries through the rest of the series, to be revisited and finally resolved in book 4), but it didn’t give Korra her bending back, because the trauma she suffered was just as psychological as it was a physical block to her bending.

Book 2, therefore, would’ve included a narrative thread of Korra needing to go on her own spiritual journey to unlock her chakras and regain her bending, finally able to reac the Avatar State when the civil war between the water tribes reached a head, and she is finally able to broker peace, having learned a great deal about herself and her connection to the past avatars.

I realize that I’ve kind of derailed pretty far off the original point, so I’ll stop here with a general note that while Zutara, as a relationship, doesn’t affect a whole lot of this directly (for the most part it would just affect the parentage of the Gaang kids who showed up, the designs of some, and their relationships with each other and possibly with Korra)–however, with the addition of Book 4 and keeping Aaron’s writing talents for LoK, the landscape of the entire sequel would be altered. I’d like to think that he would’ve preferred writing a coherent narrative that did justice to the characters even if it meant ending the show with unresolved plot threads (especially since they could wrap things up with comics which, in this alternate timeline, are actually good and in character because I want to have my cake and eat it too), so rather than being disconnected plots that didn’t make much sense when each individual villain could’ve served as the entire series Big Bad, much of books 2 and 3 would’ve involved smaller scale plots and villains, with Amon returning for book 4 and everything getting wrapped up far more neatly than it did in canon.

TL;DR: while Zutara itself wouldn’t necessarily change a whole lot (it would affect Book 4 and the post-atla comics more) outside of the different Gaang kids and their dynamics, the show as a whole would’ve been vastly different if the writing team for LoK had been the same–including Aaron as head writer–as the writing team for AtLA.

Bryke were great Big Picture guys, great vision and visual guys, I’ve never disputed that. But they sucked at not missing the forest for the trees. They sucked at romance. And they really sucked at coherent plot and character development, especially in the small scale.

[transrightsjimin]

im sorry im not rly in the BE hype atm :((

rant coming which has nothing to do w the album but everything w stress nd fatigue nd crying nd more job stress nd sensory overload and me turning everything into a worse issue in my head etc etc

i was this morning when i saw the mv nd watched the vlive but i obv slept way too few bc i went to bed late nd woke up early for the live and i had to rush a lot w errands nd an appointment w my autism coach nd at said appointment we called a dude from the municipality to inquire abt jobcoaches nd it turned out we misunderstood what jobcoaches are as they are who u get referred to when u have a job, nd the guy found it hard to figure out what type of trajectory(?) would best fit me for help nd now i have time to think abt it and will speak him again in 2 weeks or sooner if i want to. im just so tired nd a bit hungry and on edge and one sec, im in the side of the house tht faces kids playing around aka screeching as if theyre dying every second nd its majking me only more on edge!!!!

but urgh i cried so bad during the appointment and was prob way too rudde to her before the appointment, bc she talks loudly nd sounds rude nd confronting but just naturally bc ofher tone nd language nd urghgh h thikning abt jobs nd trying to talk nd not cry too hard when trying to explain stuff to the man over the phone was rly hard, like obv its fine if he knows im crying but its just hard to talk when crying nd im just so devastated thinking abt jobs!! i dont know what type of job i could handle nd it feels like im making everythig up bc i did somehow finish two studies in uni and im privileged enough w education and whiteness tobe more easily selected for a job by e.g. last name on my cv and i shouldnt be this picky but god i cant handle smth as physically demanding and underpaid as this, im tired 4/7 days that im not working nd what i earn in those 3 days is still not enough to cover rent bc they pay only for the delivery time itself instead of more hours!!! it just feels like wtf am i doing bc the municipality guy did admit im not the usual person he works w bc i had an education, as if i dont belong in the group but its really just an issue of having -100 confidence and no job experience!! like i rly dont strive for a fancy job or ‘’’career’’’, i just bneed something that i can pay my monthly expenses w and have a bit left to save up for e.g. emergencies, additional medical bills (like the 350 euros from the adhd diagnosis and therapy, which my autism coach will contact my adhd therapist abt, like if that bill can be delayed or split up in a payment plan), paying back for loan debt eventually and MAYBE soon god forbid i save up for smth fun. and i “need” the job also to have a daily activity and some structure in my life bc a large part of the reason my schedule is so fucked up is bc i have no more set time tht i need to be anywhere or any strictness or reason to get up nd so i just dont ghhh

im always looking for reasons why i cant do smth and why smth would go wrong and im already looking at every area where getting help w getting a job can go wrong like e.g. me being too stubborn abt companies i dont agree w or me thinking i cant do anything just bc i have not much working experience outside of mail delivery :(

nd then there was this A B C task list system my adhd therapist proposed in wihc i keep track of my most to least urgent + important tasks every day nd we werent sure where to keep track of that kind of list and she suggested sticking a paper to a wall (i think id rather use my wardrobe) to write it on and change or replace that every day and it sounds like a hassle but i rly need to do it every day, nd i can try other methods but thatd be either writing it on my phone but im not always on there nd theres not a type of file i can make that doesnt move back chronologically as i make new notes

ALSO im just very frustrated w myself bc my mom wanted to come over w food and i know she was too sudden w it but if only i left on time for the stores it wouldnt have been an issue. i feel like shes rly sad she couldnt come visit. fucking hell i rushed so much back and forth from the stores that i forgot to put the leftover letters from work yesterday into the outdoor mailbox and i already stress abt this bc my current teamcoach (aka manager) is more stricter w this stuff nd recently asked for a statement / explanation by me on why there were 29 letters w/o sticker from a route i did  counted from the collected mail that were in outdoor mailboxes, and i did not do that but my only alibi / reason for not making that huge mistake was that i hadnt posted any mail yet that day and obv he wasnt happy w that. i sometimes had dreams / nightmares recently where i was late again or fucked up w a new route and got fired for it and thats quite an awful scenario / fear to me bc thats exactly why my dad was fired by his previous employee, for being late too often nd we’re the exact same. it just sucks bc i know many ppl who worry abt being late arrive to early at shit bc lol anxiety but i still arrive late every day WHILE being stressed abt it nd my whole fucking issue is that i need to break w bad patterns MYSELF, like whether i get help for autism stuff or adhd or sleep or whatnot, the homework / assignments / tasks / advice they give me, in the end i still need to be the one to do it and push through and make a change or put more effort into not going continuously back to the same distractions or demotivating black-white thinking

just URGH im so easily annoyed nd sensitive, also as in sensitive on a tactile level nd it doesnt help tht my room is a mess nd im super stinky from bts BE excitement and from squeezing my skin a lot last night, nor does the fact that i have rly bad coordination / awareness of my surroundings nd continuously bumping into shit or getting caught on smth help, which is also another reason im just so slow at work bc if i try to walk or deliver mail faster i keep end up bruising nd tripping or tear my hands on all these hard to move or sharp mail box slots if im not careful nd slower, which does still happen but not as bad when im careful

im also rly dizzy rn from haing slept too few and just urgh i “need“ a stupid fucking job, i need the money i need the structure but my god does actual labour and having to deal w colleagues every day and trying to keep up w stuff and be fast and precise enough in whatever the job is, sound horrifying hhhgghgh

OK RANT OVER IM SICK OF ME TALKING SO MUCH

[strawberrybrainrot]

According to Legend pt. 2 (Sylvain x f!reader) request

Alternative title: Sylvain realizes he could’ve had a bad bitch

Pt. 1 Here  

Notes: takes place after the timeskip and reader is a bad bitch bc I decided she can’t let a man hold her back sorry not sorry also can you tell I love paralells

After Emperor Edelgard started the war, the entire continent was sent into disarray. The monastery was left abandoned and broken. War and panic plagued the cities and tore families apart. When you saw how much the people of Fearghus were suffering, you decided you couldn’t sit back and watch. No longer bound by the confines of marriage and duty, you left home and spent the last five years using your status as a noble to help those in need find refuge.

Though Sylvain had not spoken to you since your time at the Officer’s Academy, he often heard rumors from his family’s soldiers about a young falcon knight whose description matched yours. You had built quite a name for yourself; traveling throughout the kingdom, healing the injured, and swiftly taking out every foe you faced. If anything you had become somewhat of a legend among the common folk.

Truth be told, Sylvain had a very hard time getting you out of his head. There were times that he would look at certain objects, or eat certain foods and be reminded of you. It made him realize just how much he actually missed you.

He missed the way you would genuinely laugh at his jokes, or how you would teasingly scold him for not taking his training seriously. He especially missed the soft smiles that would warm his heart.  

There were parts of him that wished he had turned back and apologized. He knew he messed up that night at the tower, but he couldn’t take back the hateful words he said. Because of his outburst, he probably lost the only true love he had ever experienced. At least now he knew you were okay, thriving even, and that was enough for him.

A few weeks ago, Sylvain was met with several letters from his classmates, asking him to return to Garegg Mach. It seemed that even though Byleth and Dimitri were gone, his friends were still bent on keeping the promise you all made five years ago. Now he was back at Garegg Mach, once again fighting side by side with his all of classmates.

Well, almost all of them. So far, you were nowhere to be seen. If he was going to be honest, Sylvain was a little disappointed; He was hoping he would finally get to see you at this reunion. On the way to Garegg Mach, he thought of all the ways that he could apologize. None of them seemed like they would be enough to get him back in your good graces, but now it seemed he wouldn’t even get the chance to try.

Distracted by thoughts of you and the onslaught of thieves coming his way, he failed to notice an assassin slipping through the trees behind him. Before he could register the blade coming towards his back he heard voice from up above.

“DUCK!”

Without any question, he dodged just in time as a javelin sailed over his head and impaled the assassin close behind. He looked up to see who had saved him, and widened his eyes at the person above.

After five long years, there you were. The sight of you, alone against the sky as you sat on your pegasus left Sylvain breathless.

As you landed next to him to retrieve your weapon, he couldn’t help but gape at your sudden appearance. He was speechless. Before he could even speak a coherent word, you cut in.

“We can exchange our greetings later, right now focus on the enemy ahead. I’ll do my best to cover you.”

He didn’t expect you to speak first, so all he could do was watch in awe as you reared your pegasus and took off into the sky. But you were right. Before he could say his piece, there was a battle to be won.

After a long battle, the group took shelter in the monastery to discuss future plans to quell the war. When the war meeting was finished, everyone broke off to explore the monastery. You had quietly slipped out before everyone else, but Sylvain knew exactly where to find you.

As he neared the old Goddess Tower, he saw your silhouette leaning against the railing as you stared out toward the setting sun. He began to walk slower, quieter, as the reality of the situation set in.

The closer he got to the tower, the more he began to panic. Now that you were here, what was he supposed to say?

Sylvain knew that he had to make things right, so he took a deep breath and began walking towards you. You noticed his presence and locked eyes with the red haired man, but made no move to change your position.

When Sylvain reached you, he awkwardly took his place next to you. Unsure of what to say, the two of you stood there quietly watching the sky turn a bright orange as the sun set over the horizon.

Sylvain collected his thoughts and opened his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it.

“You’re here to apologize aren’t you?”

Sylvain gaped at your sudden confrontation. He guessed that his actions were obvious, from his attitude and his serious silence, but he didn’t think you would comment on it.

“I- uh, um, yes. But I also wanted to thank you.” Sylvain mentally slapped himself for the lame reply, “You really saved me back there, so… thanks”

Sylvain could feel his heart beating faster in his chest as he felt your gaze finally fall upon him. He hated how after all this time, you could still easily sway his feelings. He took another deep breath.

“But yes, I wanted to apologize to you for... well, everything.” He turned his body towards you as he kept his eyes locked with yours, “I thought I would get over you, like I did with every other girl who was after my crest, but no matter what I did I would always find you roaming in the corners of my mind.”

“And hearing all of the stories about you from our soldiers just reminded me of all reasons why I let you into my life in the first place. You really are something special... and it was stupid of me to shut you out like that. I know the way I treated you wasn’t right, but I want to make things right with you.You don’t have to forgive me right now, or ever, but I at least want you to know I regret every moment I spent not by your side.”

Sylvain’s face softened as he looked into your concerned eyes. He knew that you were skeptical, but he just had to let you know how he truly felt.

“I just... don’t want to be without you anymore,” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and gently placed a hand on your cheek.

“I love you, (y/n).”

As he spoke, you watched his face closely for some sign of insincerity, and sighed when you could not find any. You softly placed your hand on top of the one that caressed your cheek. You wanted so much to lean into his warm touch, but instead you gently pulled his hand down and took it into your smaller ones.

Part of you was relieved that he meant every word, but for some reason you couldn’t bring yourself to be happy with his apology. It’s not that you didn’t return Sylvain’s feelings— far from it in fact — but it was because of this heartbreak, that you were finally able to take your life into your own hands.

You kept your eyes focused on the hand you were holding as you began to speak softly.

“Sylvain, I appreciate your apology, but... it isn’t necessary,” His eyes widened as you began to explain yourself, “I’m glad that even after all these years you still feel the same, but I can’t let you in that easily.”

When you glanced up at his face, you expected to find sadness in his eyes. Instead all you could see was understanding. Seeing his reaction you continued your reply with more confidence.

“I’ve spent the last five years helping people in ways I could only dream about when I was younger. And there’s still so much more that needs to be done-- so much more that I need to do.”

You took a deep breath, released his hand, and stood up straight to face him before continuing.

“I want to continue cutting my own path in life, so for now... can we put feelings aside and just be friends?”

Sylvain let out a sigh of relief as you finished. He had mentally prepared himself for an earful, for crying and yelling, but he never expected you to say something like that. Then again he had always admired how you weren’t afraid to stand for the things you believed in -- it was one of the things that made him fall for you-- and he understood your need to forge your own future. Afterall, he was the same way.

Sylvain was just happy that you were willing to meet him halfway and repair your relationship. For the first time in five years, a genuine smile that found its way on his face as he replied.

“(y/n) (l/n), it would be my pleasure to ‘just be friends’.” He said as he bowed dramatically and winked. You rolled your eyes at his actions, but couldn’t fight the smile that crawled up your cheeks as his playful attitude returned.

With the tensions released, the two of you spent the rest of the evening catching up and telling stories. You realized how late it had gotten, and decided to retire for the night.

Sylvain quietly bid you good night and you made your way back to the dorms. As he watched your figure get smaller and smaller, Sylvain vowed that he would work hard to one day earn the right to be beside you for the rest for your lives.

When you were out of sight, Sylvain turned his head up at the the sky above him. That night, the stars seemed to shine brighter than usual.

According to legend, if someone makes a vow at the Goddess Tower, the Goddess herself will surely grant this wish.

Several years later, Sylvain found himself tearing up as he happily placed a golden band on your finger, fulfilling his vow all according to legend.

[shy-marker-pliers]

39 with heric? (Are there any other ships you Ike btw?)

(i like pretty much every ego ship except for Driplierst, cause doctor/patient relationships make me v uncomf. i’m also not a fan of bingle most of the time bc a lot of people write it so that it sounds kinda abusive? but i’ll still write it bc i don’t do it like that.)

tagging @supreme-meme-machine and @caori-azarath bc they seem to like my writing for some reason even tho it’s garbage-

39: Who initiated the relationship? Who kissed who first?  When did they realize they were in love?

ohoho

i think they both had crushes on each other since the beginning, but only realized that they were in love a few months after they had started to hang out.

They were pining idiots for the longest time because they didn’t think there was any way that the other could like them (my poor self conscious bois)

Eric liked Host because he was so protective of him and let him into his library to read with him, and he had a sense of humor that could have him laughing for minutes at a time. also he gave amazing hugs.

Host liked Eric because he was so nice and sweet and wasn’t afraid of him upon meeting him like the others were. he also had the most adorable laugh The Host has ever heard.

“There’s no way that Eric likes The Host, they’re just friends. Eric is probably secretly afraid of him anyway...”

“Host could never like me, h-he’s so cool and calm all the time and i’m just a mess...i b-bet he’s only friends with me because he feels sorry for me...”

sometimes Host would avoid talking to Eric because he didn’t want to accidentally let it slip that he liked him through his narrations but he stopped doing that when he realized that he was just stressing the poor guy out.

anyways one day Host was gushing about Eric to google and he was just like “Eric obviously likes you back, just tell him how you feel.”

“but what if google is wrong?”

“what if google is wr- are you serious? i have access to every document about relationships that has ever been posted online, and all the signs point to him being just as head over heels for you as you are for him.”

“...okay but what if those are wrong too?”

Bing and Eric had pretty much the same conversation but with a lot more “bro”s and “dude”s thrown in.

Eventually Host decided to put his fear of rejection aside and tell Eric how he felt

but not in person hell no host might be a brave boi but he’s not a brave enough boi for this-

so he spent like 2 weeks writing this beautiful adorable love letter to Eric, then sneaks into his room one day and sets it on his bed, along with a tiger lily (Eric’s favorite flower).

He didn’t sign his name on the card, but that was because he didn’t have to. no one else in the manor used a quill and parchment and had cursive writing so perfect that it looked like it had been taken straight from the desk of a 14th century poet.

After Host delivered the letter he had a mini panic attack in his library and started to rethink every decision he had ever made up to this point in his life

see everyone thinks he’s a functional gay but he’s really a disaster gay

So later that night Eric was getting ready for bed when he spotted the paper and flower

10 minutes later saw him red faced and sprinting through the manor, glasses askew, smiling like he had just won the lottery, wearing a cat onesie and a flower tucked behind his ear.

which honestly should have raised a few eyebrows but the egos are used to weirdass things going on so they were just like “what the-? eh it’s probably nothing.”

Eric threw open the door to The Hosts library and started calling his name, until he found him standing in the middle of the library waiting for him

he was curled in on himself, obviously nervous and gripping the fabric of his trenchcoat sleeve so hard that he was surprised it didn’t rip.

his worries went away instantly when he heard Eric barreling toward him like an excited puppy, yelling “HostHostHostHostHost!!!!”

next thing he knew Eric was tackle hugging him, holding him like his life depended on it.

He happily hugged back, saying “The Host assumes Eric found his letter...?” in a surprisingly small voice.

Eric simply nodded and hugged him tighter.

“n-no one has ever said anything like that t-to me, I...I like you too. A-A lot. A whole lot.”

they just sat there for a while, saying nothing and just holding each other.

they actually fell asleep like that and Dark found them in the morning, Host curled around Eric protectively and the other snuggling into his chest looking calmer than anyone had ever seen him.

that was the one time he didn’t mind someone coming in late to breakfast.

as for their first kiss, wasn’t super special, but it was adorable nonetheless.

Eric had a nightmare, and whenever that happens, he goes to The Host, who lets him sleep in his bed for the rest of the night.

No words needed to be exchanged. Eric just shook Host’s shoulder to get his attention, and he lifted up the covers to let Eric get under the blanket with him.

Eric wrapped his arms and legs around Host’s torso and hugged him. usually that was when they fell asleep, but that night, Eric said “Thank you. f-for everything, i mean, not just this. You d-don’t have to do any of this s-stuff for me, and if i’m honest i still don’t know why you c-chose to date me out of everyone else, b-but i’m so glad you did. Just...thank you. so, so m-much.”

It took all The Host had for him not to cry like a baby the second Eric finished talking.

“The Host loves Eric, he is the best thing that’s ever happened to him. He doesn’t mind at all when he gets woken up in the night when Eric has a nightmare, because that means he gets to hold his favorite person in the world and help him feel safe.”

Eric was silent for a solid five seconds and then he whispered, “y-you just told me you l-love me.”

“The Host did, and he would say it a million times more.”

“I-I love you too.”

Eric lifted his head, and with a sudden burst of courage, kissed Host on the cheek before tucking his head under his chin once again and falling asleep.

Host sat in shocked silence for a few seconds, but then he just smiled softly and kissed his sleeping boyfriend on the forehead, adjusted the blankets so that they covered them both, and fell asleep too.

this was way longer than expected sorry

[heyhyunjiin]

Demon!Hyunjin AU PT. 3

esketit lol

 this part is soooo overdue holy shit lmao. I’m so sorry for keeping you guys waiting. If you see me in real life, you have permission to drop kick my ass. (unless you’re tyler and you’re gonna kiCK MY ASS ANYWAYS NO MATTER WHAT)

so! it has been a couple months now since you and demon!hyunjin are living together. as it turns out, this boy couLD ActuaLLY LEAVE the apartment complex.

 you didn’t know he could do that.

you thought demons were meant to stay in one area for eternity to cause spoops but that’s not the case lol.

the way you found out was sorta wild

it was a really cold weekend and snow was decorating the environment outside.

you were on a day off from work and wanted to do a few fun things since free time was rare for your occupation. You had plans on visiting the library, cafe, small shops, and lastly your favorite restaurant for dinner before it was too late in the evening and your powerful roommate would be resting.

oh and you wore a thick black sweater (ik, sounds pretty random but it’s an important detail in the fic!)

the walk to the library was peaceful and nice since it most people were still sleeping and weren’t being rowdy yet.

an old woman bid you a warm welcome softly from her desk. you returned the greeting and began walking through the aisles of books, searching for any that looked interesting.

your eyes were glued to the back cover of a small book, reading the description when someone tapped you gently from behind.

a man who looked to be in his middle 20’s and dressed in a striped long-sleeve shirt with jeans smiled at you and said, “that book’s a good one! i relate to the main character’s father.” he was mere inches from you, being too near than what most would consider appropriate distance for a stranger.

you were like, “(ㆆ_ㆆ) why tf is he standing so close to me,” inside your head. on the outside, you politely smiled and said, “ah! really? I haven’t read this one before.”

he chuckled and paused to admire your face. “Y’know, you’ve got great complexion. i’d love to take a photo of your face for my photography class,” he pointed at his camera bag which loosely hung over his shoulder.

“no thanks, I’m not particularly interested.” you replied, putting the book back in the right place and moved along, having to scoot around the guy since he was sort of blocking your path.

a few minutes went by and no book really caught your interest, but your bladder got the best of you. the librarian said the restroom was just to the left of the biography shelves so you made your way there.

ahhhhhh the restroom was nice and clean so you had no problem setting your phone on the sink as you washed your hands after you had done your business.

the walk to the cafe was short as you hummed the tune to your favorite song.

you took a seat by the window since it had a nice view of the outside. the little bell chimed above the door, signaling that another customer had entered the cafe.

you glanced at them merely- a dude in a green jacket. not deeming them as interesting, you went back to watching the snow fall from the outside.

there was some fog on the glass of the window and suddenly, letters faintly started appearing.

“Be Cautious,” it said.

what the hell :-$

first, you’re living with a demon boy and now you think you’re being surrounded by ghosts.

what good luck you haaaave.

you were obviously still very shook after a minute or so of staring at the words that hadn’t faded away at all.

the employee who softly tapped your shoulder startled you so much, your gasp scared him as well. he had almost spilled your drink on you.

“are you alright, ma’am?” he had asked you.

You: O.O yeah, yeah. just a bit jumpy ahahahaha.

he probably thought you were a bit crazy but nevertheless bid you a good day after giving you your drink.

The warm brew felt nice in such a cold weather.

The town square was as busy as usual: people were scurrying along with their families and loved ones, children were holding colorful animal-shaped balloons, some lovers were fighting while others were doing hefty PDA, loud music blared from all over the place, and overall, the shops surrounding the square were having good sales.

you stopped by a small boutique shop, observing a set of earrings on display when the familiar voice of the man from the library came from the entrance of the store.

you could feel your heart beat quicken and the next thing you did was hide behind a rack of clothes.

“excuse me, did you see a person with this hair color, around this height, with a black sweater on?” he had asked the cashier woman.

a sense of suspicion laced her voice as she replied, “why’re you looking for her?”

he laughed awkwardly, as if the question made him nervous. “she’s my sister and i’ve been looking for her for a while. i lost her in the crowd at the square. mind helping me out?”

you silently crossed your fingers in hopes that the lady wouldn’t say anything.

“oh! since that’s the case, i recall her looking at the jewelry section一” he didn’t even let her finish and just sauntered over in your direction.

“shit. shit. shit.” you were thinking.

the only other way to get out of the store aside from going in the same walk-way as him was to run alongside the aisle of mirrors which would reflect you and alert him that you were leaving.

“fuck it. it’s all i’ve got.” you thought and made a bee-line for the exit as fast as possible.

the square is usually patrolled by policemen but for some freakin’ reason, nONE could be seen when you needed them.

you put on the hood of your sweater and started making your way to the restaurant that you’d planned on having dinner at as briskly as possible.

“early dinner it is then,” you thought to yourself.

TBH you were sorta down bc today was supposed to be relaxing BUT some stupid creep had to ruin it. NOW all you wanted to do was go eat some food, walk home and enjoy the safety of your apartment with your demonic roommate.

the sun was setting and the townsquare was getting less and less busy with people going home or having dinner elsewhere.

a rough grip latched onto your shoulder, and you were forced to turn around, coming face to face with the library creep.

he was scowling and obviously irritated.

“you’re the sneakiest bitch i’ve ever met,” he said through gritted teeth.

you were doing all you could to create some distance between you two.

“fuck off! let me go!” you demanded, trying to shove him away as far as possible but the man didn’t even budge an inch.

“oh, really sweetheart? are you sure you don’t want your phone back first?” he held up the device in his other hand.

you could feel the color draining from your face.

the phone was set on the sink of the bathroom while you were washing your hand and you must have left it in there.

which meant one thing: he had followed you inside the restroom, waited till you left, & took the phone.

for a moment in time, you were completely alone with this poor excuse of a man.

lord knows what could have happened...

your eyes landed on his outfit.

a green jacket concealing a long sleeved striped shirt.

if your eyes could get any wider, they would have.

that green jacket was the same as the one you’d seen at the cafe. it was used to cover up his striped shirt that you would have noticed right away.

this entire time, you were in his sight.

his clutch on your sweater allowed him to haul you to a vacant and dark alleyway.

you kept screaming for help but the loud music of the square drowned out your pleas.

his camera bag was unzipped on the ground of the alley and not a single camera was inside.

in it, there was a pocket knife, rope, tape, and a bottle of pills.

(hold onto your wigs ladies for these next parts :O)

WITHIN A SECOND OR TWO! the man’s grip on you loosened because his body was flung against a wall with such a violent force.

you were confused and still scared as fuck.

he was lost and in pain.

both of you glanced at the entrance of the alley.

to him, there were only people passing by, and nobody appeared to notice the scene.

to you, the shadow of a tall boy stood at the entry point of the alley with glowing eyes. you’d know those crimson orbs anywhere.

(this is basically what you were seeing.)

AAAAAAAAA IT’S YA BOY DEMON!HYUNJIN

a streetlight attached to one of the building walls turned on, illuminating the face of the demon.

his facial expression read anger, irritation, and murder.

he took one step forward:

hyunjin slowly pointed his index finger upward and the body of the creep raised with it in the same pace.

this absolutely scared the crap out of the guy because he couldn’t see who was doing this to him.

his body was probably a good 8 feet above the ground.

“w-what are you doing?” you asked your roommate.

“If this dick is into dangerous situations so badly, i’m gonna put him in one.” hyunjin barked out.

“h-hey! who the hell are you talking to?!” the man frantically asked you.

hyunjin used his other hand to make a choking motion.

the creep suddenly grabbed his throat, feeling it closing up with an invisible power.

hyunjin’s eyes were glowing redder and redder the longer he tortured the man and his scowl grew scarier.

the pocket knife from the camera bag also rose up and stopped a few inches from the man’s forehead.

things were escalating so quickly before anyone could really react.

you ran to hyunjin and clamped your hands onto his arm.

(it wasn’t extremely cold or burning hot as you’d imagined, it felt human-like.)

“stop! you’re gonna kill him!” you pleaded.

a devilish grin (ahahah get it?) was plastered on his face as he said, “that’s the plan.”

“s-sir, please have mercy, wherever you are!” the man coughed out.

whaaaat? he’d heard hyunjin’s voice?

“he…. heard一” you spluttered out before hyunjin interrupted you.

“demons can allow humans hear them if they have enough juice of power. i want this son of a bitch to know that this is his end.” he answered your following question.

“a d-de-mon? oh god, no!” the man shouted.

hyunjin smirked and mocked him, “sorry, but your god isn’t here right now. leave a message after the beep,”

you saw his hands move forward, and the knife did as well but you demanded for him to stop again.

“why should i, huh? he hurt you!” hyunjin was livid at this point.

“i have a little brother, sir! please don’t kill me!” the creep begged.

“well you should’ve thought about him before going after innocent women. remember lee mijung? choi eunbi? or kim seohyeon? those are the women whose lives you’ve fucked up. they’ve got families too. families who will never get the old mijung, eunbi, or seohyeon back after you were done with them.” hyunjin growled.

“how can you know those people?” you asked him.

“we can see in your past memories too. this guy is as sick as perverts get. you would have been victim #8 if i hadn’t done anything.” he answered.

“please! i’ll do anything!” he prayed.

“hyunjin, i know he deserves to be punished but not like this. please. there has to be another way. ” you said.

it took some time but the man finally ended up on the ground with his wrists and legs tied and tape around his mouth.

a swoosh sound came from somewhere and a young boy appeared before you. he had dimples on both cheeks, black hair, doe-like scarlet colored eyes, and wore braces.

hyunjin and the mystery boy did a small handshake and exchanged a few words.

“meet jeongin. he’s a soul collector.” hyunjin introduced the boy who held his hand out.

“a... a what?” you asked as you shook jeongin’s hand.

“a soul collector! i reap souls who do the dirtiest deed on earth and bring them to hell where they will be tormented in the worst ways possible,” jeongin answered and faced the creepy man, “you thought my friend was horrifying? wait till felix and jisung get their claws on you!” he said and winked.

the creep desperately tried to scoot away from the younger boy but failed. they both disappeared in a swoosh.

hyunjin’s eyes met yours and his showed a hint of concern.

“...are you alright? he didn’t hurt you too badly, right?” he asked.

you nodded in reassurance and also asked,  “how’d you find me in the first place?”

he answered, “i’d been with you since you’ve left the apartment. who do you think left you the, ‘be cautious,’ message at the coffee place? i knew that guy was no good ever since he spoke to you at the library but i didn’t wanna interfere too much until you absolutely needed me.”

you smacked his shoulder in embarassment and shock, completely forgetting the fact that this kid was a DEMON. “DOES THIS MEAN YOU WENT IN THE BATHROOM WITH ME TOO?!”

the tips of his ears turned pink and he looked like he wanted to knock you out. “WHAT THE FUCK一 NO! i left for a bit while you were in the bathroom which is why i didn’t know he followed you inside or else i would have killed him right there!” hyunjin exclaimed.

“...well… i haven’t had dinner yet. how about we get some takeout and eat at home?” you suggested.

he shrugged and said, “sounds good to me.” 

HOLY SHIT OKAY I WASN’T PLANNING ON IT GOING THIS WAY BC I’M MAKING THIS UP AS I GO. IF YOU GUYS WANT A PART 4, PLEASE LET ME KNOW!!

[merciful-mercenary]

Strawberry Cake - Valentine’s

Hello again! I wrote a oneshot for @askdoctoroliver and @ask-mr-luxembourg bc they’re both sweethearts that deserve the world okay 

Ship: Luxembourg/2p England (Doctor Oliver) Rating: G Themes: Fluff, Human AU, Valentine’s Special Summary: A florist and a confectioner are incredibly busy on Valentine’s Day of course, but that doesn’t mean they can’t celebrate it after they close up shop. Or, at least, celebrate it like friends do, right?

Claude = Luxembourg, Oliver = 2p England 

Valentine's Day was always a busy day for a confectionery and a flower shop, as was to be expected, especially when the two sat next to each other downtown. Claude, a calm and patient man, ran the flower shop while the confectionery was run by Oliver, a cheerful and kind-hearted man that Claude swore was as sweet as his candies. During the day, Claude knew they would both be too busy for him to visit Oliver, but he also knew the day didn't end once their shops closed.

So, once he finally was able to close up shop at the end of the day, he was about to leave to see how Oliver did for the day, but his display for Valentine's Day caught his eye. Unsurprisingly he had sold all of the roses he had prepared, but a few pots of pink and red tulips remained. He looked over each of them with a scrutinizing eye before picking one with a pale blue pot and softer pink tulips. He locked up his shop and headed next door, relieved that Oliver hadn't left yet.

The bell gave a pleasant chime as he walked in. Claude always enjoyed walking into Oliver's shop. Soft pink wallpaper with swirling cream decorations covered the walls, complimenting the wooden shelves that usually held premade boxes of chocolates and candies, though only a few stray boxes remained after the day. A couple of small round tables sat near the entrance, for customers that wished to sit with a cup of tea or coffee to enjoy their sweets with. The glass case that held all of the single chocolates was covered with a sheet. However, Claude's favorite part of the shop was nowhere in sight.

“Mr. Kirkland?” he called out.

The back door opened, and Oliver strolled out a moment later, his apron dusted with powdered sugar. Claude noted that he must have had a busy day as well, if how mussed up his strawberry blonde hair looked was anything to go by. “I'm sorry, I'm closed-- oh, Mr. Weis!” He brightened up at the sight of the florist. “How was your day? Successful, I hope?”

“Very much so. I almost never had a moment to sit down,” Claude sighed at the memory of the constant rush that day.

“Your feet must be sore. Would you like to rest here for a while? I just made tea,” Oliver offered.

“Thank you, I think I will take you on that offer,” Claude said. Any excuse to stay in the cozy shop was good. He held the tulips out to Oliver. “I brought you these. Happy Valentine's Day.”

Oliver's ice blue eyes widened and he took the pot, turning it slightly to admire the pale pink tulips that were almost the same shade as his cheeks. “Oh, thank you. What lovely flowers, you're a kind friend to give me these,” he said. He took the pot and walked away to set it on the windowsill. “I was just thinking today that window could use some decoration,” he mused. “It goes so well with the wallpaper too, how thoughtful.”

He stepped behind Claude and turned the lock on the door, and pulled the blinds down over the windows and door. “There. I am glad you stopped by, but I cannot take any more customers,” he said. “Now follow me, before the tea gets cold.”

Claude followed Oliver into the back room, the scent of chocolates making his mouth water. The back room was almost more comfortable than the main shop, with a cushioned couch and coffee table across the room from the kitchenette area where Oliver made everything by hand. The kitchenette area had tiled floors, but outside of it was plush carpet that made every step much more comfortable than the hard wooden flooring in Claude's shop. A cinnamon candle flickered on the coffee table, next to a tray of chocolates and a radio that played soft piano music.

Claude sat down on the couch while Oliver went to the teapot on the stove and pulled out two mugs to fill with tea.

“I hope chamomile is alright. It was a busy day for me too,” Oliver said. “Would you like honey?”

“Yes, please and thank you. Chamomile is perfect,” Claude assured him. He couldn't help but stare at the tray of sweets sitting on the coffee table. A few chocolates and candies looked misshapen or off color, and some heart-shaped sugar cookies were darker around the edges than Oliver normally cooked them as. However, to Claude, who had barely anything to eat that day, they looked like the  most appetizing things in the world.

“May I have some?” he asked, pointing at the tray.

Oliver turned to look at him and blanched at the sight of the tray. “Oh goodness, I'm sorry. Those were failed batches that were too deformed to give to children, I was eating them before you came in. I will get some better looking ones from the front for you. It's the least I can do for the flowers,” he said as he stirred the honey into their mugs.

Claude grabbed a misshapen chocolate, which he assumed was meant to look like a heart but looked more like a triangle with a small indent in the top. He popped it into his mouth, humming in content as the chocolate melted on his tongue.

“Mr. Weis--!”

“It tastes good as ever,” Claude assured him with a confident smile. “They may not look perfect, but they taste perfect and sweet as always, and that is all that matters, isn't it?”

Oliver carried the mugs over and hesitated for a moment, looking at the misshapen sweets before sighing and sitting down next to Claude. “If you insist,” he said, handing one of the mugs to Claude before taking a sip of his own tea.

“Was today a good day for you as well?” Claude asked.

“Yes, but quite busy,” Oliver sighed. “I came in at 4 this morning to make sure I had enough stock ready for the day, and I still ran out of a lot.”

“Do you have any plans for tonight?” Claude asked, scooting closer to Oliver until their legs brushed.

Oliver visibly tensed at the contact and he glanced to the side as he held his mug close. “No, I think..only baking tonight to fill up the shelves again.”

“That sounds like a lot of work. I can stay and help, if you'd like,” Claude offered, taking a sugar cookie off of the tray to nibble on it.

“Oh, I could not possibly ask you to do that. I'm sure you have your own plans,” Oliver defended, a light worried frown on his face.

Claude smiled and wrapped his arm around Oliver's shoulders. “I cannot think of any better way to spend Valentine's. We could make it a date.”

“Yes, of course, a date as friends, right?” Oliver said with a weak laugh. “Ha, that reminds me. I had prepared boxes of chocolates, with the chocolates in letters that said 'Happy Valentine's Day'. One young man asked for me to replace the 'v' in Valentine's with a 'p', so that it was 'Palentine's'. A valentine who is your pal. Isn't that clever?” he chuckled. “It's a palentine's date then.”

Ever the patient man, and also enjoying seeing Oliver so flustered, Claude pressed on. “I would rather have it be a real Valentine's date, Oliver.”

Oliver coughed and cleared his throat. “Yes, I suppose it is ridiculous to give it a different name, isn't it?” he mused. “A valentine does not have to be romantic, after all.”

“It could be romantic,” Claude insisted.

“Yes, yes, er, of course it can be, Valentine's is seen as a romantic holiday first and foremost, but friendship truly is just as important, and I am glad to have such a friend like you,” Oliver agreed, his cheeks red as he pointedly stared down and to the side at a spot on the carpet. “And I would greatly appreciate the help. The shop was nearly cleared out today.”

Claude wondered if the confectioner's head was filled with sugar with how sweet but oblivious he was. However, it was nothing new to him, so he only gave a small sigh and grabbed another chocolate to take a bite out of. Oliver was cute when he was flustered, though. “It's a good thing I stopped by then,” he said. “You know you can call me, right? You have my number.”

“Yes, but I have been able to handle it,” Oliver assured him as he sipped at his tea. “It's caused a few late nights and early mornings, but it is like this every year.”

“Is it not better to have company while you bake?”

“It does get quiet,” Oliver sighed. He smiled and gave Claude a small nudge. “But it's okay, because I've got you here tonight,” he reasoned. “What a wonderful Valentine's date, two friends baking together.”

“Yes,” Claude said, his grip tightening ever so slightly on his mug.

The piano music drifted lazily around the room as they drank their tea and ate the reject sweets. Oliver wished he could enjoy the comfortable silence that settled over them, but he sat tensed as Claude shifted to rest his cheek on top of his head. Cuddling was a friendly thing to do, right? Surely it must be. His cheeks warm, he shifted to try to get comfortable against Claude, though the tension never left his shoulders. He only hoped that Claude couldn't feel how hard his heart hammered against his chest, as if he had run across town. Not that he knew why, Claude was his friend. It was normal for friends to sit close to each other, right?

Oliver finished his second cup of tea quickly, worried about dropping the mug from his hands shaking. “Maybe chamomile tea wasn't the best idea so early,” he mumbled.

“Perhaps a quick rest before we start would help,” Claude suggested.

Oliver stood to gather up the now empty tray, teapot, and their mugs, trying to ignore how cold he felt without Claude's arm around him. He glanced back at the couch with pursed lips. “There's not enough room on the couch for both of us,” he pointed out.

Claude hummed in thought and took off his shoes to lay down on the couch while Oliver washed everything off.

“What if you sleep on top of me?” Claude suggested. Oliver nearly dropped the tray in the sink, and he turned off the water.

“What did you say?” he asked.

“You can sleep on top of me,” Claude repeated. “Lay down on top of me, and sleep.”

“No, no. I can sleep on the floor,” Oliver insisted. He walked back towards the couch, and moved to lay down in front of it. “Perfectly comfortable,” he reasoned.

“I think I would be more comfortable, and warmer too,” Claude reasoned with a mischievous smile.

“Yes but I am perfectly content down here, thank you.” To prove his point, Oliver turned on his side, his back to the couch. Claude turned to trail his fingers over Oliver's shoulder.

“You're too tense, you'll be sore if you sleep down there for any longer than a few minutes,” he reasoned. “You cannot be in pain while you bake, it might result in more mistakes.”

Oliver pressed his lips into a thin line. Claude did have a point, and if he could avoid making any errors in his sweets, it would be a good opportunity to take. He glanced over his shoulder at Claude, who gave him an innocent smile.

“So?” Claude asked.

“...I will just have to take a short nap then before getting to work,” Oliver reasoned, turning back over. It almost felt like he didn't need to nap anymore, with how fast his heart was racing. He jumped in surprise when Claude stepped over him to get up.

“Then I will sleep on the floor,” Claude said, sitting down on the floor cross legged. “So that you can sleep on the couch.”

“Mr. Weis, you are a friend and guest! I cannot let you sleep on the floor,” Oliver defended.

“Then I guess the couch will just have to go to waste, because I will not sleep on it unless you are sleeping on it as well,” Claude said, crossing his arms.

Oliver hesitated and sat up, looking at the couch and then at Claude. Would it really be so bad for friends to sleep on top of one another? As long as nothing happened, which it wouldn't, then it was just a friendly gesture. He gave a resigned sigh and got to his feet.

“Fine,” he said as he sat on the couch to take off his shoes. Oliver tried not to stare too hard at the triumphant smile on Claude's face as he laid down on his back and got comfortable. “Okay, come here.”

He looked over when he only got silence in response, and saw Claude covering his mouth as his face flushed bright red.

“What? You wanted me to lay on you a minute ago. Surely this is the same,” Oliver reasoned. Claude struggled to find the right words.

“Well, yes, but..I--” Claude paused and took a breath to regain composure, and he slowly hissed it out. “Okay.” He got up, stiff from trying to hold back how flustered he was, and hesitantly laid down on top of Oliver. He folded his arms on top of Oliver's chest to rest his head on, and try to hide his red cheeks.

Oliver only hoped that Claude was too flustered to notice how fast his own heart was racing. “Yes, I do think this is more comfortable,” he agreed, wrapping an arm around Claude. “I think this has already been one of the best Valentine's dates I have had in a while. Thank you for..for being such a good friend, Mr. Weis.”

Claude sighed and closed his eyes, unable to hide the slight smile tugging at his lips. “Of course. Happy Valentine's day, Mr. Kirkland.”

[moretinyideas]

Sparkles On The Water [1] | Do Kyungsoo

[5] Lunar Myths Saga Story Two

genre: wolf!kyungsoo x mermaid!female reader (oc - wang inhui) (ft male oc - wang junhui)

chapter summary: (PART TWO) The events over the past day effects the whole pack, should Euina be allowed to know the truth? hat would happen if she’s not? Kyungsoo has always been more observant than others but then again, he’s always away… visiting you in his dreams.

words: 2200

I am considering making it one big chapter? what do you guys think? should I delete both parts and make one big chapter or should I leave it like this? ALSO do these ‘before’ bits annoy you? they can get kind of long :( I like putting them here anyway though... ALSO I'm sorry it took so long to get up HOWEVER! I do have a little surprise in stock to keep swimming with me <3

tags: @marshmallow-phd @bri-ne @high-on-food@asslikegilinsky @chanyeolol  @xingminded - let me know if you’d like to be tagged!! although I’m sure Tumblr hates me and never actually sends the notifs to anyone!

[ml] - bc it’s getting a lil confusing I decided to just link the master list | part 1

Hello

KYUNGSOO

When everyone was finally awake and situated in the main room it had just passed one in the afternoon. Yixing had been back for almost an hour but Yifan and Minah had to attend to something in the city – an emergency – and only arrived back at the house a few minutes after one. The new-comers had been awake as long as he had and, while still a little awkward, the two girls had relaxed. Euina and Baekhyun were sharing funny stories – mainly about Chanyeol, Euina’s friends and Yuna – while Yuna and Sehun sat talking quietly to each other. Kyungsoo couldn’t help but smile at the fact that Sehun and his mate were getting closer. That, even though the situation was bad, Sehun had finally gotten over his nerves and talked to her.

Kyungsoo had been a little moody when he was dragged away from his sleep, he always was when he was dragged away from you, but he couldn’t deny the sense of pride he felt seeing Sehun with his mate. He imagined everyone in the pack felt proud of him.

Another development had been when Minah got back. Before she had left, she had come to Euina to make her feel more comfortable surrounded by a mass of men she didn’t know.

“You told me you like to bake, right?” Minah had asked, sitting on the floor next to Euina and Baekhyun. Euina nodded. Minah‘s smile transitioned into a beaming grin. Kyungsoo watched as she clapped her hands together loudly, looking over her shoulder at him. “Great!” She exclaimed, turning back to Euina. “Kyungsoo loves to bake too! We were going to bake some red velvet cupcakes tomorrow for Yixing coming back but we can always make them earlier!” She stood up with a small bounce, extending a hand for the teenager to grab. “Right Kyungsoo?”

“Right.” He agreed with little hesitance.

It was a strange thing, having an actual child in the house but, Kyungsoo was always one to do his best to make a child happier.Euina took a glance at Yuna, who smiled back at her. With the subtle nod of her head, Euina turned back to Minah and grabbed her hand.

She motioned for Euina to enter the kitchen before them, to go help Jongin, who was already in the kitchen, wearing an apron (that only covered from the waist down) and a kind smile on his face. Euina went to him almost immediately.

“Since when were we baking for Yixing? He only went to work.” Kyungsoo said, voice lower than a whisper. The female werewolf heard him anyway.

“She doesn’t know that.” She answered in the same manner. “Besides, I thought it wouldn’t be in her best interest to sit with us while we discuss whether or not she should know the truth.”

“What’s Jongin’s view?” Kyungsoo was curious, the younger who was already in the kitchen must have already given his answer. He and Kyungsoo were similar in that way, not wanting to argue about something so, well, useless.

“Same as you, same as me, that she should know.”

Of course, Kyungsoo nodded. Jongin had always been hind hearted and even then, children were his weakness. “Good,” was all he said before the two of them entered the kitchen, making sure the door closed properly behind them.

​

YOU

“Tell me where on Earth you are. I’ll find you in no time.” You had asked. He had given you the best answer in the world. Turns out he was less than 100 feet away from a gate. There were nine gates all over the planet, an easy way for supernaturals to find each other. The main purpose of the gates was to connect the different supernatural planes, or universes as Junhui liked to joke. You liked the fact that the part of ocean, in the Southern Kingdom, was where the third gate was placed: The Morire Gate.

As soon as Kyungsoo had left your shared dream you woke yourself up with a pinch to one of your small fins that sat on your hips, right on the tip where it was most sensitive. You sat up from the reef you had made your bed and set off in a quest to find Junhui.

Swimming fast was always something you were good at. Due to the size of your tail, it’s long length yet slender frame was great for becoming streamline, the small fins on your waist and hips contributed to your long tail fins’ great ability to catch currents and propel you forwards even quicker. Their length also giving you a powerful kick, Kyungsoo had complimented you after watching you race a dolphin once in a shared dream.

However, swimming fast now didn’t feel the same.

Your heart felt heavy in your chest and the thin translucent webbing between your fingers kept sticking together. You were a mess of emotions and Junhui being hard to find was not something you wished to deal with at this particular moment.

Fortunately, fate was on your side for the moment, the Gods smiling down at you with fondness. You made a mental note to pray to the Lunar Goddesses in thanks for you swan right into Junhui not even a minute later.

“Woah!” He chuckled, holding your upper arms between his fingers – the webbing significantly less sticky. “Slow down, you’ll tear a fin!”

“Hui, we’re leaving.” You wasted no time in paddling around the coral.

“We’re what?”

“Leaving.”

“Alright.” He shrugged. He had always been the one to express his feelings of adventure the most between the two of you. “Where?”

“On land.” You paused, gaging his reaction. When he didn’t object you continued. “We’re going to my fated one.” You said slowly.

“Kyungsoo? Do you even know where he is?” You could hardly keep a secret from anyone, but you were never able to keep one from Junhui. However, you loved talking about Kyungsoo, so you supposed it was a situation with no loses.

“He just told me.” You smiled, conveying what your fated one had told you.

“Wow! He’s not so far away from the seventh gate! TheGuilan Gate.” Junhui exclaimed, the two of you now swimming back towards your castle.

“I know! But I don’t think he does,” you replied with a sheepish smile.

Once back at your home the two of you parted way to go to your separate quarters. You wouldn’t need much, you didn’t have the need for clothes underwater and your ‘prized possessions’ would last very long above water. What you did do, however, is swim to your mothers’ quarters to whisper into a shell you lovingly dubbed as a shell-phone. Its official name was – in fact – a whisper shell and, its purpose was to hold the last whisper uttered and share it with the next person to pick it up. Kyungsoo had said it was similar to sending a letter or texting, whatever that was.

Once finished, you placed the shell down on its opening (so your whisper wouldn’t spill out) and then placed a sand-dollar on top of it, to signal that it was ready to share a whisper. Then you left your mother’s quarters. At least she’d know you were alive now, once you left.

Around ten minutes later, you didn’t really care for the concept of time, you met back up with your brother, a human satchel over your shoulder. Inside wasn’t much, just a few shells you were particularly attached to (the smaller ones you liked putting in your hair along with shiny pearls but thatwas a different story) and a few other bits and bobs. You looked at the assortment of things Junhui held in his arms and raised and eyebrow. Wordlessly you opened the knitted bag and motioned for him to place his things inside. He did so, grinning at you.

“You know, that’ll be dripping once we’re on land, right?”

“That’s usually what happens when things are wet Hui.” You rolled your eyes. “Let’s get a move on, it’s not the longest swim to the Morire Gate but it’s still quite a swim. I don’t want to waste any more time”

And then, the two young royals left the sanctuary of their land and found themselves on land for the first time without a Lunar Moon.

What an adventure indeed.

KYUNGSOO

Just under an hour had passed since the kitchen door closed. Kyungsoo didn’t know quite what was taking them so long to decide if the thirteen-year-old girl was allowed to know their secret or not, especially since the majority of them were all for it. He couldn’t make out what most words were said (due to the fact that they had sound proofed almost every room since the technology was created) but he could hear that both Danbi, Junmyeon and Yuna were expressing different variations of concern with Euina knowing. From what his ear had caught, Danbi was worried about what would happen if she was taken and didn’t know anything – “What if those horrible rogues take her! What if they hurt her and she has no idea for what reason or what the hell is going on?”– while Junmyeon was worried about what would happen if she was taken and she knew, and the rogues tortured information out of her – “She’s a child! No one deserves to be tortured let alone a child!”– and Yuna just wanted them to stop talking about her little sister being tortured. The room had become exceptionally quieter and the cupcakes had been put into the oven, Minah thought it would be okay for them to join back up with the rest of the house.

She was wrong.

As she opened the kitchen door, Euina just in front of her with the woman’s hand on her shoulder, the seal keeping them cluelessly oblivious from the debate happening in the main room was broken.

Kyungsoo felt like his heart dropped out of his chest.

He wouldn’t be able to tell anyone exactly what was said but it was an argument between Yuna and Sehun and, Yifan and Tao while Junmyeon was stuck in the middle trying to defuse it all.

“I don’t want to even think about the fact my sister could get kidnapped and killed by a bunch of psycho rogue werewolves! All I’m saying is that I won’t lie to her.” This was the only thing Kyungsoo picked out before everything became silent.

All eyes on the door that just opened and the two girls who had walked through them. Kyungsoo and Jongin shared a look before following their steps into the main room.

“Why am I going to die?” Euina’s voice was small and cracked as she finished her sentence. Kyungsoo didn’t need Luhan’s affinity to figure out she was scared.

Yuna’s face dropped as she saw her sister in the doorframe. Sehun’s form tensing behind her, probably feeling her drop of emotions. “No. You’re not going to die.” She reassured straight away, standing from Sehun’s side to walk closer to the young girl, though Sehun stood to follow not even a second later. She knelt down “I won’t let anything happen to you if I can stop it.”

A few seconds of silence passed. “Werewolves?” Euina’s whisper was heard by everyone (apart from Danbi and Eunjin who were human enough to not have special heightened hearing) her voice still thick with emotion.

“Well, the cat’s out of the bag now.” Baekhyun spoke up, with a smirk on his face as the werecat sat up from his laying down position on the floor. No one acknowledged him or his pun. “No point in arguing about it now.” He sighed, standing. “Just so you know, I was all for you knowing from the get-go.” He smiled at Euina before disappearing, probably going to his room to finally sleep.

Before he knew it, Euina had ran past him, tears spilling out over her cheeks. It was like the sky was listening because soon enough, the heavens had opened, and the clouds started crying too. Yuna followed her sister through the door, even if she didn’t know her way around the house or where Euina would go in the first place.

Kyungsoo decided it would be best if he stayed out of their business.

He was just about to retreat back to his room, to try and sleep and maybe see you once again, but before anyone else moved there was a rap against the door.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“I’ll get it.” Kyungsoo murmured, not seeing the need to raise his voice. When everyone would hear it anyway. Plus, he was the only one standing up at the moment and he was closest to the door. It was only logical.

When he opened the door, he was met with the bare back of a woman and, when she turned his heart did leaps. It was you. You were here, on his doorstep. And you weren’t wearing a shirt.

“Hello.” Your smile stunned Kyungsoo, he began to wonder if he was still dreaming.

Another voice sounded out, sheepishly, and a man stepped out from behind his mate.

“Uh, hi.” He gave a small awkward wave.

[cloudbeom]

A Garden of Stars (Prologue)

warnings: /

Genre: slow burn, friends to lovers/one sided love au (depends on the ending i guess :’)), high school au, angst

Summary  : The only problem with falling in love is you didn't choose to

A/n: Soooo, here is the first part! I recommend listening to I like me better by Lauv while reading! Enjoy!

"We're going to be late!" Your older sister Selene yelled when you just finished brushing your teeth, you just rolled your eyes instead of replying her, knowing it was just to meet up with her boyfriend. And mom wouldn't let her go out unless you were with her all times until you reached school.

"I'm coming!" You replied, "Asshole"

"I HEARD THAT!"

"I WANTED YOU TO HEAR IT!" you yelled again, grabbing the jacket on your chair and hanging your schoolbag loosely around your shoulder. You looked at yourself in the mirror and sighed.

It's just another day of school.

And as usual, you went downstairs and said goodbye to your parents, and walked out with Selene to be greeted with harsh sunlight, so you cover your eyes with your arm.

"Why is it so sunny today?" You asked, and finding that your sister was squealing and running into Hoseok- her boyfriend's- arms. And you just rolled your eyes for the second time, but stopped when Hoseok started to laughed

"Good morning (Y/n)!"

"Morning" You smiled at him, not nearly matching his. But your sister had different plans when she pampered his face with kisses, and he hugged her waist, smiling like it was their wedding day. "I'll just go to school on my own" you stated, not wanting to watch her kissing him for a second longer, Hoseok, wanting to reply, was cut off by a kiss on his lips, and you turned your heel.

He's cute and I hate that, I hate his sunshine smile, and I hate how he's so nice, and I hate that he belongs to my sister.

You plugged in your ear piece, wanting to listen to music on your way. And as you clicked shuffle on your playlist, I like me by Lauv came on.

You smiled lazily and clicked on the Instagram post Jimin had updated and tagged you of him in the empty theater, looking so fucking aesthetic. You remembered that you were helping him read his scripts, and he had asked you to take that photo of him, and he had apparently posted it and tagged you as his "Best photographer" and now your Instagram was blowing up with followers.

The lead actor of the school, the hottest model for Instagram, the most adorable classmate, was a great person, but he's in the school's 'I want to date him bc he's so popular but not a bitch' list, so just being his friend is risky.

Apparently, he had also tagged Jin, the film and photography director of our school. The person who you loved to annoy with your best friend, by making fart noises when he was recording, and it would always make Jimin burst to laughter and forget his lines.

He was so much more handsome than he claimed to be, and he was talented as fuck. His laugh is adorable, and he could literally step on me. But he already had a girlfriend, and his girlfriend was so nice you ended up being friends with her when you wanted to pry his sex life out of her. I know, I didn't know what I was thinking either

As you commented on his picture, you received a message, and you clicked on it fast, realizing Yoongi had sent you a piece he was working on. And you smiled, remembering how he and you met online when you wanted to find a tutor for piano lessons, and found someone your age instead, and immediately became friends. He wasn't from your school, but you seen him in pictures before, and all you wanted was to kiss his gummy smiles.

Is it love at first sight? Why is he so adorable! And he's a pianist too! I never even met him! Ugh, what is wrong with me!!

You passed a couple that was walking by the park, and you smiled at the girl, who smiled back at you. Your phone in hand and eyes trained to the road, looking left and right for cars, and as the train above you passed and no cars were in sight, your crossed the road, a skip in your step when you saw an old man and a dog doing the same as you, stopping only to bow politely at him.

You crossed the sidewalk safely, only to forget every damn time that a curb was there, and you stumbled a little, already being used to it, you just laughed it off. Getting up to run back to your normal pace, your school not further and not wanting to catch up with Selene and Hoseok.

You remembered the first time you fell on that curb, Namjoon, who had been sitting on the bench at the park, saw you and dashed to you immediately, abandoning his notes and papers that looked like sheets of music on the bench, and helping you up, asking if you were okay. You guys hit it off right then and there, you learned that he was a senior in your school, and he wanted to produce music. You also learned that he was not looking for a relationship, after he told you that he had not planned on staying, but instead wanted to move as soon as he graduated, to find a chance to be a musician.

He was adorable, his hair was always stuck in places, and I loved running my fingers through them, with the reason I wanted to fix it. I love poking his dimples, and I love forgetting that there is a motherfucking curb after school because he was always there, and ever since then, I know who to rely on when I'm down. But only for now, because sadly, he's moving after graduation.

You ran into birds that flew away as always when you ran to them, they had always occupied the fountain there. The birds had flew away faster ever since that day you were playing soccer with Taehyung.

I mean, you had told him playing soccer at a public place was a bad idea. But he insisted on teaching you a so called power move he made, and you couldn't just say no. So as the good friend you were, you and him ended up in the park, playing soccer, and when he tried to show me the power move, he had kicked too hard and the ball literally hit one of the pigeons at the fountain, and you didn't want to say it died, but it did scare the others away big time, and since then the birds there was really quick on their feathers. Plus, Tae had bought you ice cream as an apology!

He was hot, no kidding. Captain of the soccer team? Loved by everyone at campus? so it was not impossible for me to fall in love with him too! But you know what's the dual combo for loved soccer captain? Cute cheerleader in pigtails. And that's just it. There goes my chances. I might as well start working out and learn gymnastics.

You laughed at the memory of it all. And finally, you had reached school after safely walking the crossroad of busy teenagers on their phones or with their significant others, or best friends.

You arrived at campus earlier than expected and the bell wont ring for a few more minutes. So you just went to your usual hiding space, thinking of all the cliché memories of you writing those seven love letters.

Oh? There were only six stated? Well, that can't be right... because..

"(Y/n)! Get your ass over here quick!"

You turned and smiled, seeing Jeon Jeongguk walk up to you, his hair and jacket practically swaying in the wind, as what looked like a phone was in his hands, and a smiled played his lips. His eyes glistening with the morning sun, showing that he woke up on the right side of bed.

"Where have you been? I've been waiting since ass crack of dawn!" He laughed and shoved his phone in your face "Look at this, look at this! IU posted a new photo! Look at this (Y/n)! Are you looking!?" You laughed when he was trying to grab your body from falling into the grass because you were trying to walk backwards. "You did not come here at ass crack of dawn"

"You're not seeing it!"

"Okay give it to me" You said, grabbing his phone and looking at the picture of IU, the sweetheart of campus. The lead choir and the best singer of the whole high school. You scrunched your nose, and immediately deleted it, falling backwards on the soft grass so he couldn't prevent you from not deleting it.

"(Y/n)!!!" Jungkook panicked, and you couldn't help but laugh at how worried he was. "Why did you do that?" He pouted, lying on the grass next to you, and wrapping his arm around your shoulder as sounds of students chattering filled both of your ears, and he immediately took his phone back.

"Because she isn't good for you. She has a boyfriend Guk, are you crazy? Keeping a picture of her? What would her boyfriend say?"

"Why would he care?" he pouted more, sticking his bottom lip out. And you stood, placing a hand on your hip.

"Well, if I were your girlfriend, and Tae Tae had a  picture of me, what would you do?" you asked, and he looked up at you.

"Good point" he laughed, then stood next to you, just as the bell rang "But you my best friend, so unless Tae Tae likes you, It's just creepy" he said, laughing "And there goes the bell. Wait for me after class okay?" You nodded "You tell me that every day Jungkook"

"I just don't want you to bail on me!" he said, then he turned to the back door "I'm going to go now! Don't wanna be late on this normal boring day! Bye best friend!" He kissed your cheek, like you always did, then left.

And that's the problem. With Jeon Jungkook. Your best friend. And the person your currently in love with

[couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name]

-They ran the full show!!! And then some!!

- Claude's wig completely flew off during the 'Hair' number

- Woof was given like...4 different wigs throughout the night and they all look awful lmao

- we are now on the third light board but it seems to be working!!

- BITCH during the finale 'Ain't Got No' s every time the gunshot sound effect went off the guitarist played like this aggresive dying chord and like.....hot

- everyone was singing Chicago songs all night

- we had like a 40 minute break to eat brownies and like a couple moments after I finished mine I was like hmm.....brownies at Hair.....maybe not the smartest plan actually..

- oh by the way I am being ATTACKED because the director ordered a Mick Jager poster right but it's not gonna be delivered in time so she is using the Micky J poster we used in the show 8 years ago....which the whole cast had autographed.....and my signature, in giant lettering, is right smack on Mick's cheek.....farewell

- Berger was given fake extensions even tho he already had long hair

- it took them 50 minutes to agree on a game plan for the after-bows bit where they pull people onstage to dance

- the entire trip scene is actually hell because we have to turn peoples mics on right except WE DONT KNOW WHO TF ANYONE IS

- the show seems pretty great but I am....critical of the final scene

- like 1) he's not laying ontop of the flag for some reason and 2) everyone stays on stage for WAY too long and 3) they are absolutely not giving Berger enough time to really drive the emotion through. By the time everyone's finally offstage the song is already over??? So he only had time to really cover him with his vest and get in a pose. Like. Idk why she's doing it like that? When we did it in 2011 everyone was still singing offstage while Berger wept for like a solid minute. It was very impactful??? What happened???

- also....tell me why Claude was grinning for like half of 'Where Do I Go'??? wild

- this poor kid was struggling to get his mic off and he's like 'it feels like I'm ripping a heart moniter off' or something and when we told him mic tape and surgical tape are the same thing....his eyes almost jumped out agshdbsn

- "Okay but the real Margaret Mead wasn't trans right??? So what's the point of her opening her coat and flashing a penis at the audience???" "Dumbass.......she had Big Dick Energy" 😂😂😂😂😂

- I love the music director lol I asked him if they had cut part of 'Electric Blues' bc we got really confused there with the sound effect yesterday and he let out a dramatic gasp, eyes wide, before grabbing his libretto and sprinting to the back of the theater to personally edit the song in our script instead of just answering 'yes' lol

- only 3 mic changes and they all happen at intermission........what on Earth

- the directors husband is a Vietnam vet and he gave a whole speech about it to the kids and two moms sitting in the audience in front of me started crying

- the director expected me to remember my monolgue from working, a show I was in literally 7 years ago

- they also requested for me to sing my part from Les Mis and do my lines from Into The Woods.....like what was happening ashdhdjs I just wanted to collect microphones

- Narrowly avoided an angry fox running @ me when I left the theater so that's always fun

- a lot of mics are missing windscreens for some reason and those things are IMPOSSIBLE to get on and this poor girl already had her mic on by the time I noticed itnwas missing so I just had to. Stand uncomfortably in her personal space for 10 solid minutes so that was fun I guess

- LITERALLY THEY BROKE OUT THE SMOKE MACHINE FOR WALKING IN SPACE I SCREAMED!!!

- thats all I can really remember right now because I forgot to make this post 4 and a half hours ago whoops but overall! I think the show will be really good!!

-✌✌✌✌✌🌸🌸🌸🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌺🌺🌺👫👬👭🌚🌚🌚🌚🌚🌠🌈🌈❄❄❄❄❄❄❄🔮🔮☮☮☮☮☮☮☮☮☮☮☮☮♒♒♒♒♒♒♒♒♒♒♒♒♒✌✌✌✌✌

[the-christian-walk]

THE SIGNS (PART 6)

Can I pray for you in any way?

Send any prayer requests to Gods4all@aol.com In Christ, Mark

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The scriptures. May God bless the reading of His holy word.

So when you see standing in the holy place ‘the abomination that causes desolation, ’spoken of through the prophet Daniel—let the reader understand—then let those who are in Judea flee to the mountains. Let no one on the housetop go down to take anything out of the house. Let no one in the field go back to get their cloak. How dreadful it will be in those days for pregnant women and nursing mothers! Pray that your flight will not take place in winter or on the Sabbath. For then there will be great distress, unequaled from the beginning of the world until now—and never to be equaled again. If those days had not been cut short, no one would survive, but for the sake of the elect those days will be shortened.

Matthew 24:15-22

When you see ‘the abomination that causes desolation’ standing where it does not belong—let the reader understand—then let those who are in Judea flee to the mountains. Let no one on the housetop go down or enter the house to take anything out. Let no one in the field go back to get their cloak. How dreadful it will be in those days for pregnant women and nursing mothers! Pray that this will not take place in winter, because those will be days of distress unequaled from the beginning, when God created the world, until now—and never to be equaled again. If the Lord had not cut short those days, no one would survive. But for the sake of the elect, whom he has chosen, he has shortened them.

Mark 13:14-20

When you see Jerusalem being surrounded by armies, you will know that its desolation is near. Then let those who are in Judea flee to the mountains, let those in the city get out, and let those in the country not enter the city. For this is the time of punishment in fulfillment of all that has been written. How dreadful it will be in those days for pregnant women and nursing mothers! There will be great distress in the land and wrath against this people. They will fall by the sword and will be taken as prisoners to all the nations. Jerusalem will be trampled on by the Gentiles until the times of the Gentiles are fulfilled.

Luke 21:20-24

This ends today’s reading from God's holy word. Thanks be to God.

Grief and sorrow.

Loneliness and isolation.

Destruction and ruin.

These are all components that comprise the dictionary meaning of the word “desolation:”, a word central to the scripture passages today as we look at the sixth devotion in an eight devotion series devoted to the signs Jesus states will happen just before His second coming when He returns to earth bringing judgment.  

As we look at our scripture passages, we find that three of the four gospels discuss the matter of desolation, Matthew and Mark very similar and Luke not so much. Despite any differences, it’s very important that these passages be looked at not in part but whole. I say this because there are implications regarding past, present, and future in regard to the abominations that Jesus connects to desolation.

First, there is the past. In Matthew’s account, we find Jesus hearkening back to the days of the prophet Daniel and these words spoken some 572 years earlier (approximately 539BC):

At the appointed time he will invade the South again, but this time the outcome will be different from what it was before. Ships of the western coastlands will oppose him, and he will lose heart. Then he will turn back and vent his fury against the holy covenant. He will return and show favor to those who forsake the holy covenant.

His armed forces will rise up to desecrate the temple fortress and will abolish the daily sacrifice. Then they will set up the abomination that causes desolation. With flattery he will corrupt those who have violated the covenant, but the people who know their God will firmly resist him.  Daniel 11:29-32

This is one incident that resulted in the abomination, or sinful desecration of God’s holy temple, that would cause desolation. This event was one that had already occurred as Jesus is addressing His disciples.

Between 175 and 164 BC, some 400 years after Daniel and before Jesus was born, Antiochus Epiphanes was the ruler of Syria. A great persecutor of Jews who wanted more than anything to abolish their faith, He would invade Jerusalem and set forth abolishing religious practices such as offering up animal sacrifices in the temple. Then, the Syrian leader had a sow, considered by the Jews to be an unclean animal, sacrificed in the temple and also placed a statue of a Greek god within. Such detestable action sinfully polluted God’s holy dwelling place and fulfilled Daniel’s prophecy.

But Daniel wasn’t finished foretelling about another abomination that would occur. We find this prophecy in Daniel, Chapter 9:

After the sixty-two ‘sevens,’ the Anointed One will be put to death and will have nothing. The people of the ruler who will come will destroy the city and the sanctuary. The end will come like a flood: War will continue until the end, and desolations have been decreed. He will confirm a covenant with many for one ‘seven.’ In the middle of the ‘seven’ he will put an end to sacrifice and offering. And at the temple he will set up an abomination that causes desolation, until the end that is decreed is poured out on him. Daniel 9:26-27

Obviously this abomination leading to desolation event happened after Jesus’ crucifixion as Daniel states clearly that the Anointed One would be put to death. We also see in Luke’s passage that Jesus does some prophesying of His own.

So when was this prediction fulfilled and how did the abomination happen?

We move ahead 37 years after Jesus’ death to 70 AD where we find Roman armies under the command of Titus surrounding and laying siege to the city of Jerusalem. This was the precursor to desolation that Jesus speaks about in Luke. It was a time of great distress for the Israelite people as Jerusalem was trampled by Gentiles, just as Jesus foretold.  

So in relation to the time Jesus spoke His words to Peter, Andrew, James, and John, we have seen how an abomination that caused desolation happen in the past and present (or near future when looked at in relation to when Jesus spoke His prophecy). Now let’s look at how the distant future is covered as well, informing us today that there is still yet another abomination coming, one that will lead to desolation and precede Jesus’ return.

To look at this coming abomination, we go back to the Gospel of Matthew and look again at the words of Jesus there. He said:

So when you see standing in the holy place ‘the abomination that causes desolation, ’spoken of through the prophet Daniel—let the reader understand—then let those who are in Judea flee to the mountains. Let no one on the housetop go down to take anything out of the house. Let no one in the field go back to get their cloak. How dreadful it will be in those days for pregnant women and nursing mothers! Pray that your flight will not take place in winter or on the Sabbath. For then there will be great distress, unequaled from the beginning of the world until now—and never to be equaled again. If those days had not been cut short, no one would survive, but for the sake of the elect those days will be shortened. Matthew 24:15-22

In a time yet to come, the scriptures talk about the antichrist coming and finding his way to Jerusalem where he would also desecrate the temple with his very presence, declaring himself to be God. It would be an abomination for the ages, one that would cause great distress that would be unequaled from the beginning of the world. We find a reference to the antichrist in the second chapter of 2 Thessalonians:

Concerning the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ and our being gathered to Him, we ask you, brothers and sisters, not to become easily unsettled or alarmed by the teaching allegedly from us—whether by a prophecy or by word of mouth or by letter—asserting that the day of the Lord has already come. Don’t let anyone deceive you in any way, for that day will not come until the rebellion occurs and the man of lawlessness is revealed, the man doomed to destruction. He will oppose and will exalt himself over everything that is called God or is worshiped, so that he sets himself up in God’s temple, proclaiming himself to be God. 2 Thessalonians 2:1-4

As mentioned, this is still to come and when it happens, no one who has read the scriptures should be caught off guard or surprised. Jesus told us to be ready for an abomination that would cause desolation and as we look in 2 Thessalonians, Chapter 2, we find the details of what that abomination looks like. We also learn that there so real reason to be afraid because this man of lawlessness, this person we will know as the antichrist, is already doomed for destruction. Where Christ brings victory to all who believe and trust in Him, the antichrist will drag his followers into defeat, devastation, and damnation.

In the end translation, when Jesus returns, all abomination will be vanquished, once and for all, and the only desolation at that time will be the isolation the antichrist and all those who chose to follow him and reject Jesus will experience, not temporarily but eternally.

Which side will you be on when Jesus comes back?

My prayer is that you will be firmly on His side. To not do so would be an abomination that will one day result in your desolation, sad because it was completely avoidable.

Amen.

In Christ,

Mark

PS: Feel free to leave a comment and please share this with anyone you feel might be blessed by it. Send any prayer requests to Gods4all@aol.com