#maybe I should put this in a long and elaborate fic but idk if I currently have the time

[maigo-san]

zolu kiss post-lu&sopp water 7 duel

“Do what you want with the Merry.”

At this point, Luffy felt raw. Skin aching like he had been through a wringer, his stomach lurching. He never felt this way after a fight before, the pain receding as soon as he stepped away and he was left energized more often than not. Even after being defeated by Ace and Sabo, nursing multiple swelling and deep cuts, never ached this hard.

Winning never tasted so bitter it burned his tongue.

He secured his hat, furrowing his brow, “We’ll get a new ship and move on to the seas ahead!”

Memories of Usopp playing in his head as fleeting as time. But Luffy continued walking forward, not turning back one bit.

“Well then, bye, Usopp…” he’s tired and shaken, the emotions finally welling to the brim as eyes stung. The feeling too familiar for his own good. “It’s been… fun…”

The noises Sanji and Chopper made when they argued were muffled, as Luffy’s tears clouded his eyes. He couldn’t breathe as snot filled up his nose but a part of him could feel Zoro and Nami’s heavy gazes settling on his shoulders like two boulders. Nami felt like a shard edge as she sobbed with disbelief and frustration. Zoro was calmer but heavy, pushing his head down and pinning his feet to the ground.

Luffy strained the words, as his chest ached, “This is a lot…”

He might be talking to himself, or just his first mate, because he was the only one who was present in the moment. That’s why Zoro immediately answered, his voice a pillar in the middle of a storm that was Luffy’s emotional turmoil. “That’s what it means to be a captain, isn’t it?”

“Don’t waver,” Zoro continued. “If you do, who can we believe in?”

Luffy’s shaking hand pulled the brim of his hat to hide his face, finally crying the tears he, for once, was ashamed of spilling.

.

.

They evacuate to an inn somewhere in the city. Luffy was last to walk up the room as everyone unloaded their bags and items. He glanced up at the stairs leading to the rooftop and let his impulse lead him up. He could feel Zoro’s gaze, who was also behind everyone and was dropping a crate of fresh produce. He immediately dropped it by the side of the door and ran after him. Luffy let him because he knew his swordsman had no reason to stop him.

Zoro closed the door as they reached the rooftop, slowly pinning him by the door. His eyes were calm but his lips pursed a bit. Luffy didn’t quite look at him in the face, gaze settling at a particular spot on the rooftop higher than where they stood just across the canal.

“You know, you still smell like rotten eggs,” Zoro mumbled.

Luffy glanced up, unconcerned, “Then, don’t come closer, Zoro.”

He was about to move past the taller man when Zoro held his shoulders and squeezed firmly, taking a step closer as he pressed a nose to Luffy’s cheek. Zoro made a noisy inhale,

“It stinks but I don’t mind the smell, Luffy.”

O-oh… I get it, Luffy buried his face in Zoro’s shoulder as Zoro wrapped his arms around him.

Luffy held his waist tight feeling the urge to cry coming. But Luffy only buried his face deeper into Zoro’s white shirt, brows dropping as hot tears wet a patch of cottoned fabric.

The quiet night grew profound, the water stream under them a still murmur. Zoro's steady heart pulsed him with warmth, one beat at a time. Zoro's scent of sweat and steel was a better companion than his own storming mind.

“Z-Zoro…” Luffy mumbled.

Luffy wanted to explode. With shouts and yells, with questions that piqued the reassurance from Zoro’s baritone voice. He craved Zoro’s presence to wrap around his mind and body like a compression blanket. But he was not good at words when he was utterly emotional and Zoro was not good at reassuring with words and really… words themselves could never articulate the moments they shared together in private.

So, Luffy leaned up, pressing his parted lips on Zoro’s unexpected mouth.

He sighed into Zoro’s nose, invaded his oxygen. Zoro recovered quickly as he pushed deeper until they both fed each other’s hunger with caressing tongues and sucking lips.

Luffy’s body was a floating cloud, white light filling his vision. He was clutching Zoro’s back and tip-toeing when the image of Zoro lying unconscious on the ruins of Shandora emerged and a view of his receding back followed after.

The last one didn’t happen but the fear it invoked came full force, Luffy’s soul felt like it crashed into the concrete ground.

Luffy pulled away from Zoro’s embrace, their lips smacking at the impact as saliva trailed his panting mouth. Zoro opened his eyes wide, but there was no anger or disappointment, only concern concealed behind a cautious look. Luffy reverted his gaze, settling back to the spot he saw earlier.

He pushed past his swordsman, mumbling more to himself, “Thanks Zoro... for making me feel better."

Zoro was still.

"But I want some space.”

Zoro was quiet for a while and Luffy wondered if he had offended the swordsman. Until Zoro turned, voice gentle, “Luffy?”

Luffy looked up and softened his gaze, “I won’t go far. You don’t worry about that. He tugged a thin smile, "Also, I remember what you said. I just think Zoro should rest. Today’s been a lot for everyone.”

Zoro seemed to exhale a relieved breath, shoulders loosened.

Quietly, Luffy stretched his arm and jumped.

[sorikkung]

person who signed off as "sho" on the wgoin questionnaire i am holding you gently in my hands like this

i have no idea if you're from here or from ao3 but i hope youre from here so you can see this. that response meant everything to me. also i would just like to address and talk abt some of the things you mentioned so i'll put it under a readmore cause i ramble a lot but like wherever u are i appreciate u immensely and ily <3

i loved your brief elaboration back their when Chan called their scars pretty and i would totally love to see more moments of tenderness like this in the middle of an intense fuck session. like just imagine Eric taking his frustrations out on mc after everything that happened in ch 5 but he just holds MC's hands halfway through??? Can we please talk about that?????

[furiously scribbling notes on a napkin] tenderness during intense fuck session, GOT IT! DFKJKJHFD no but like i definitely have more of that planned, don't you worry. chan's is very deliberate to his character though, while eric... well. he's a lot more directly frustrating LOLOLOL not that he wouldn't hold mc's hands during an intense scene, but more that he is a capricorn and he is Extremely Petty and given the nature of what he's frustrated about currently, i hate to say that he won't be taking out his aggression on mc. 😔 that would be pretty hot though. but porn definitely takes the longest for me to write and i already have sooo much of it planned SKJDFHKSDF

the whole chan, mc, felix, Eric dynamic is intense and honestly i just need em to pile upon each other and fuck already.

you are so fucking real for this. SDFHKJSDKFHKSDF you're right they absolutely just need to fuck it all out theres a lot of pent up emotion there... but well, if the prism was any indicator, it seems that only tends to pile up even more emotions than release any, but yknow. mc in particular is really good at deluding himself. LMAO

i fucking loved the prism scene and your descriptions for the dances (as a dancer, i approve but please don't let my teacher know I'm reading this fic)

oh WOW okay i am very much Not a dancer so this one came as a surprise LMAOO i got two left feet but i can Dream </3 glad it sounds like i know what im talking about tho! LOL ur secret is safe with me <3

honestly i am fucking high everytime you have some angst cooking up with the background of other characters but mc especially. like i would love to see a lot more coming from there and maybe when the whole thing unravels he's just rlly frustrated because he just wanted to be cocky boi androgynous whore and everyone's looking at them as sad boi androgynous whore???? idk bro.

this has me rolling bc you absolutely understand the very basis of this mc. SDFKHJKSJDF tfw you want to be cocky boi androgynous whore and only end up seeming like sad boi androgynous whore 😔😔😔 there's definitely a lot more angst cooking, everything we've seen so far has been set up for it and it just keeps on building. after all, you don't get such... colourful characters like the mc and their band without a healthy helping of trauma and internalised issues. they aren't called the runaways for nothing! i will admit the angst even does get rather dark much later down the line, so here's a warning in advance for that, but like usual the warnings section will include anything that could be potentially triggering. unless you came from ao3 in which... whoops. maybe i should put individual chapter tags in the notes.

lonngggg as long as daddy eric- again, no pressure on you but i would appreciate longer chapters even if they take more time to release:)

SDFJHSDKFHDS LONG AS DADDY ERIC IM HOLLERING. i mean so far the implication in all of the mentions within wgoin is that mingi is fucking huge and the biggest mc has taken but like, i respect this LMAO anyway it seems like longer chapters is the general consensus altho i really do wonder when most people started reading this fic when they say that bc theres been 6 month waits in between some chapters and i wonder if youd still choose longer chapters over shorter ones if they took that long. LMAO. i tend to run long anyway but im tryna chop them up into smaller pieces so i can update more than like, twice a year, which seems to be working so far, but good to know if theres another chapter 1 moment where i do feel like it all needs to be in one chapter, i can just keep the ball rolling that long.

Ok i rlly think your writing style is not only very unique but rlly suitable for the type of fic you're going for so i would not suggest any changes there. be as fucking cocky as you want with the plot and writing.

this is actually so nice to hear im so 😭🥺💘😳💞 like i don't have words to express how that's one of the nicest compliments ive ever received, thank you so much. i'm always very aware that my writing comes off very differently from most of what i read and sometimes it frustrates me but for someone to call it unique and frame it in such a positive light is so heartwarming 🥺

overall thank you for taking the time to answer these questions for me and with such enthusiasm this is really the kind of thing that keeps me writing each chapter 😭😭💞 i'm very very touched and happy that you're enjoying the ride <3

[cheswirls]

quick tangent for i think uh.. like problems i have w writing that i've noticed lately

idek how far back it goes but i make a lot of notes before actually writing for a piece from start to finish. i flesh things out in my head or think of a detail to elaborate on later and jot typically everything down that i can bc my memory sucks and ik i'll forget it later of i let it set too long, or if not forget then it'll be hazy and all the details won't be there.

the thing abt this is that 1) i write most notes all in a big blur and separate big thoughts by semicolons in lieu of any other punctuation, and i feel like most of the time i'm jotting everything down as i think of it (as it is in my head) so i don't have to waste time on coming up w correct wording or what makes sense, i'll figure out what makes sense later yknow? so it's all a giant stream loosely punctuated and if you read it out mostly it'd sound like someone speaking.

which leads to 2) a lot of extraneous detail accumulates and the bits and pieces that DO end up sounding eloquent i end up liking enough that i wanna shive a phrase or line into the story as is. which is !!! part of the bigger problem, exhibit a

when i come up with something for a story, i want to somehow insert it into the story no matter what. this means that i have trouble letting go of older ideas that no longer fit, but it also means (and this is the main problem i feel i have) that i feel the need to put a lot of extraneous elements into the story just because.

sometimes this is fine!! but sometimes, like this past week skimming old notes for a wip fic abt a yr old, i feel like this is not great and that i could be going abt it all in a better way.

let me give an example. i have a fic where a character is not quite human, is adopted by human parents for power gaining purposes later, is never told they're not human and ends up running away at a young age, but starts exhibiting non-human qualities later in life.

also, this fic is from the pov of another person in conflict with the one above. they meet after the first has already run away from home, so from a story perspective, there is no reason that the pov character should know any of the information i listed above. the story is about them trying to figure out what exactly the other character is, species-wise, and both of them are not on good terms so there's no opening to inquire directly with each other to puzzle it out.

what i've realized is that this plot point is interesting and can add to the story, but not as a direct quote, because it doesn't fit and would hinder the narrative to introduce. however! just because it can't fit doesn't mean i can't use it indirectly. idk where to go just yet, but today i thought about tossing aside a mention of the parents and such directly and instead using that information to build characteristics. i know it happens and that this person experiences it, so i can use that to puzzle out how it influences them, maybe showing how it contrasts them to the pov character, or possibly alluding to it as what's probably necessary information that the pov character simply doesn't have ('if i could just figure x out, if i just knew about y, then i could solve for z')

which is to say that uhhhhh basically! i'm slowly realizing that there are (probably better?) ways to use extraneous information besides directly. i usually don't worry about padding a story, but i have written plenty before where there's a word cap and for that purpose i feel like this will be helpful to keep in mind so the "padding" can be reduced but still serve its purpose.

it helps too that i never really delete my notes, so it's not like all the bits and pieces i think are ingenious are gone forever jus bc it doesn't make it into the story. i've thought abt actually taking screenshots or straight up copy/pasting some of my fic notes here, especially for completed fic i'm not liable to think abt again in terms of editing, as a sort of archive but also jus so i have somewhere i can point my fingers at and say 'oh look! i wrote smth cool come look at it!'

anyway this isn't uh anything tangent and i need to learn to kill my darlings i think first before i can implement this idea, or perhaps starting this way (with indirectly adding to a story) will enable me to do that better (discarding unnecessary things altogether). again bc i'm writing fic for fun i'm not rly stressed abt forming a perfect cohesive story that cuts out irrelevant details bc if i'm writing for me and i like those details then why not? but i do also think overall this will help me improve writing quality and i'm excited to test some things and go from there :) even if i like where i'm at now, i also think challenging my comfort when writing is never a bad thing bc i'll look at smth i write now a yr ago and go oh! i've definitely gotten better!

[atheliasnotebook]

hi! i saw some of your fics and idk the way you write is nice and comforting. so i'd like to request something, i feel like it will be in good hands. but please, delete my ask if it makes you uncomfortable in any way, alright ?

TW: depression + suicidal thoughts. pls stop here if you feel bad and don't force yourself ⚠️

can i request a kaeya and/or diluc with a gn-reader who's depressed (for vague reasons, no need to specify) and has suicidal thoughts that just don't go away ? i really need some comfort and these men to hug me. but again, i understand if you don't want to do it, so don't worry!

a drink for your thoughts, and a captain as well

pairing: kaeya alberich x reader

tags/warnings: angst (suicidal thoughts), comfort

kaeya—the charm of the city besides diluc—is truly something. and perhaps it’s due to the amount of times he’s walked into Angel’s Share to discuss matters of all sorts—whether it be for business, connections, or consolidations, both economical and emotional.

in the case of you—yes, in fact, it’s emotional. after the amount of times you’ve went to bennett, albedo, and other members of the knights and the guild—you said that consulting higher-ups wouldn’t be necessary.

that is, until kaeya came across you sitting alone at a table in the corner of Angel’s Share, writing something in a notebook as if it were the last thing you had left. kaeya, taking a sip of his drink, was caught off guard and yet—was amazed. how someone like you would have the lack of sense to: a) get drunk, b) write, and c) do it after the evening had broken into the night.

and on times where you’ve passed out—he’s not one to be generally snoopy of those who are emotionally distraught, especially you, who he’s already known for so long since childhood—but never necessarily interacted with.

taking one good look at your notebook, gently scooping it from under your arm and flipping through pages. at one look, writing is scrabbled messily—some are just rambles and words in bold talking about how worthless you are, or how much you’re sorry (and at that, kaeya wonders what you’re sorry for). he loved you—and yet, he couldn’t bring himself to tell you for so long after he found out about… this. he thought that you would find it to be some elaborate joke—and maybe even hurt yourself in some way after it. alternatively, you would think that he’s lying to you to complete a mission—it doesn’t seem too out of character for kaeya.

how long has it been circulating in your head for? his heart aches bit by bit, knowing that you’re suffering and not understanding for what reason(s) it is for. and one day, he carries you—drunk and passed out—back to his home between the headquarters and the tavern, laying you down on your side. he sits there, beside you—gently breaking as he gets on his knees and takes your hand, bringing it to his forehead and inhaling shakily in.

and you awaken.

“kaeya?”

“good evening—“ he says as he breathes in once again to find a normal composure. “how do you feel?”

“like literal death—“ you meant that more in a sense of your semi-drunken hungover state rather than actually wanting to die.

“drink this, it should help you feel better,” he says while holding a glass of water to your lips. and not feeling the strength to do many things, you simply drank.

after taking a sip, minor panic ensues. it’s like miniature limbo has erupted into an explosion of chaos, before you ask “where’s my notebook?” and shortly following after, a breath of relief as you see the captain holding it out to you, with your pen neatly tucked between the cover and the pages.

“i’m sorry,” he says, trembling with his short-stated apology.

“for what?” you ask as you take another sip of the glass that kaeya’s holding.

“for not noticing sooner—i didn’t think it was so bad, judging by the way you always talked to me about it…”

kaeya stands up and puts the glass on the table, before taking you into a hug—gentle enough so he doesn’t hurt you, but close enough to that you can feel his warmth and his semi-cold hands.

and you cry—thinking about all the reasons why you hated talking to other people about this kind of thing, along with the reasons that made you hate yourself to this multitude in the first place. and you know that even if kaeya’s here, the thoughts won’t dissipate. and kaeya, looking at you crumble—knows better than anyone that with time, things get a little better. watching you fall apart lets him know that you’re willing to trust him, but more importantly, you’re allowing him to help you through the blankets of heavy thoughts that weigh you down.

“tell me what worries you, and i’ll be here to help you with whatever you need. and there’s no need to worry about scaring or burdening me—if anything, i’m the one you should be scared of—but here you are, sitting down with me. so, cry—i’m here now, and you don’t have to do this alone. remember…” he says as he clutches the cloth of your shirt and brings you closer. “our relationship isn’t strictly business, alright?”

[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.

[nastybuckybarnes]

Monsters  -  Eleven (Alternate Ending)

Pairing: Dark!Bucky X Reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes is a man who just wants to do better. But he can’t stop the monster from coming out every now and then. As a last and hopeless attempt at calming The Winter Soldier, SHIELD finds him something they figured would help. An innocent young woman with not a lot going for her. Or, The Winter Soldiers newest victim.

Warnings: Language, Violence, Injuries, Fluff, Mentions of Mental Disorders and Personality Disorders (of which I've used personal experiences as references)

Word Count: 2.8K

A/n: Fourth day of ficmas and y’all get an alternate ending!! The end of this has given me an idea for a new dark!Fic that could potentially become a dark series but idk yet. Anyway, enjoy!! 

A/n 2: This doesn’t fall in line with Madness or Bad Dream, but idc

THIS IS A DARK FIC WITH POTENTIALLY TRIGGERING CONTENT!!!

Series Masterlist

~*~

“(Y/n)? Honey? You in here?” Bucky hesitantly pushes open the front door, senses on high alert in case you make a hostile move.

“James?”

He walks slowly into the living room, smiling softly when he sees you.

“Hey,” he whispers. You eye him warily and he sighs.

“I’m sorry,” he begins gently, sitting down next to you, “I know what I did was wrong, and I know it looks like I chose her over you, but I’m here for you now. And I’m gonna be here for you as long as you’ll have me.”

You stare at him for a moment longer before grinning.

“You need me,” you state. He looks at you, waiting for you to continue. “That’s why you came back,” you elaborate, “because you need me. Because you know that Natasha won’t be able to handle you the way I can.”

He swallows hard, thinking back to the way Nat was appalled by the video.

“You’re right.”

You giggle, shaking your head at him. “I know. I know I’m right. I’m the best fucking thing that’s ever happened to you! You’d be lost without me and you’re now realizing it, aren’t you?” His guard is up in an instant, your outburst making him uneasy.

You get up off the couch to stand in front of him, hands on your hips.

“You hurt my feelings, James.” He nods, reaching for your hands slowly. You allow him to take them and watch as he presses gentle kisses to your knuckles.

“I know. And I’m sorry. And you’re right again. I do need you. More than I’ve ever needed anybody and that scares me.” You ponder this for a moment, thinking about all the pictures he received.

“How long were you with her?” He sighs heavily and closes his eyes tightly.

“A month. Maybe longer. At first, she was just something for the soldier when you weren’t there but… I’m not sure why I kept going back. I care about you, I really do.” You hum, pushing his hands away and straddling his waist.

You lean down, lips brushing over his just gently before you smile again.

“I fucked Steve last night. Several times.” A growl rumbles deep in his chest and you pull away for a moment, grinning wickedly as you see his eyes glaze over slightly. His hands grip your hips tightly and he takes a deep breath.

“Your best friend fucked me. For hours. Because you were too busy picking that stupid fucking bitch over me. That’s a lesson for you. I can get whoever I want, whenever I want. You need me, not the other way around. Remember that.” You push yourself off of his lap and walk to the staircase.

“In time you can have me again. But not now. If the soldier needs me, he can have me, but not you, James. Not yet.” He sits panting on the couch, eyes trained on your backside as you leave him confused and aroused.

You close the door to your bedroom and plop yourself down on your bed, ignoring the nagging voice in the back of your mind, the one that’s begging you to leave him. He hurt you, but he’s back. He must care about you or else he wouldn’t have come back, right?

As you’re pondering this, the window slides open with a soft thud. You turn to the sound, anger coursing through your veins as you see the redhead climbing into your room.

“What are you doing here?” You demand, uncurling your legs and climbing off the bed. She closes the window silently and holds her hands up in surrender.

“I just want to talk. Please.” You eye her warily but stay seated at the edge of the bed.

“He came home to me. He chose me. So if you’re gonna try and convince me that he wants you, think again,” you snark, hoping to hurt her feelings before physically hurting her again.

She shakes her head, sitting down slowly on the floor a few feet in front of you, giving you the upper hand if you wanted to get physical.

“He doesn’t deserve you.” You furrow your brows in absolute confusion at her statement. You were expecting a lot of things; yelling, screaming, insults, violence. But this is the absolute opposite of what you had prepared yourself for.

“You don’t even know me,” you scoff, shaking your head at her.

She raises her eyebrows at that. “I know about your parents. Your dad, the paranoid schizophrenic who abused you because he thought he was doing what God wanted. And your mom, the Narcissist who neglected you.”

Your hands start trembling as she brings up people who you’ve fought to forget. The people who made you the way you are.

“You don’t know anything about them. Or me. You’re just-” “Just what? Telling you the truth? Reminding you of the fact that you were raised by them, yet you turned out to be a beautiful, smart, independent young woman?” You look at her, uncertain of where she’s going with this but still angry at the fact that she knows about your past.

“You may have been raised by them, you may have had a difficult childhood, and you may be dealing with something that very few other people can understand, but that doesn’t make you a bad person. You’re not a bad person. You’re hurting, and you’re scared, and I know deep down that you know this isn’t a healthy relationship. But it can stop. We can stop this.”

“You think you know me, don't you? You think you’ve got me all figured out. You don’t. You don’t know a single damn thing about me and I’m tired of you pretending like you do.”

You stand up, glaring at her as she slowly rises to her feet.

“First you come in and intrude on my relationship, make the man who loves me question his devotion to me. Then you come into my room, in my space, and try to tell me that you know all about me. Well, guess what? You don’t. You don’t know a single damn thing about me. You think that because you’ve got the files and the information that you know a single thing about what I’ve done.”

You lean closer to her, lips just barely brushing over the shell of her ear.

“I’ve killed people before, Natasha.” She furrows her brows. You pull away and grin, batting your lashes at her.

“I’ve killed so many people, I’ve lost count. But I remember their faces. Do you wanna know why I did it?” She’s silent but you continue anyway.

“I did it because of the rush. The power of knowing that you hold someone’s life in your hands... and you ended it. It’s euphoric. I may never get enough of it. And when I plan a kill, I plan it precisely. I make sure they have no idea and then... then I pounce.” She backs up a step, inhaling sharply when her back gets pressed into the wall.

“I guess I should thank you, Natty. If it wasn’t for you, I’d still be that sweet innocent girl I pretend I am. The one who I’ve been since I moved here. But now that I don’t have to pretend anymore... I feel free. And I’m ready for my next kill. Do you wanna know who it’s gonna be?”

She shakes her head, feeling genuine fear as you talk so casually about ending innocent lives.

“I’ll give you a hint: she’s a woman. And she stuck her nose where it didn’t belong. Do you have any guesses yet?”

“If you kill me, Fury will kill you. I have no doubt about that.” You snicker and pull away, looking her up and down.

“Yeah... but I’ve got someone on my side who isn’t afraid of him. Someone who’d choose me over you in a heartbeat. You may have James, but I have the soldier. He's perfect. Everything I need and more.

“He broke you!”

“He didn’t break me!” You snarl, fist slamming into the wall beside her head. “He showed me who I am and how much I can take. And let me tell you, having those boundaries pushed... it really opens your eyes to what you can endure as a person. It’s a really spiritual process. Would you like to try it?” You ask, eyes wide and full of mischief.

“No. (Y/n) you’re better than this, I know you are.” You laugh, shaking your head and staring into her eyes.

“See, that's where you’re wrong. And that’s what your problem is. You think you’ve got everyone all figured out. But you don’t. You think I’m better than this? I’m not. I can tell you that right now. I’m not the damsel in distress that you think I am. I don’t need your help. Because I like the way I am. I’m fucking perfect! Men want me, I have a purpose. And now, I can get away with whatever the fuck I want. Murder included.”

“James would never-” “You wanna call James up here? See how he likes you intruding on his space? As soon as he sees me and you in any type of fight, the soldier will step in. I know how to trigger him without those special words.” The colour drains from her face and you nod.

“Him and I? We could be great together. I just need you and James out of the way. And look, you’ve handed yourself to me on a silver fucking platter. So Bravo, Natasha.”

“So what? You’re gonna kill me? Then what?”

You shake your head, fingers stroking her cheek gently.

“I’m gonna post that little video of us first. And then, after the good name of The Avengers has been destroyed, I’m gonna take you somewhere nice and quiet and I’m gonna put a bullet between your pretty green eyes. By then, James will be too consumed with his feelings to fight off the soldier, and I’ll have everything I could ever want.”

“Why?”

“Why am I like this? You said it yourself. Daddy was an abusive schizophrenic and mommy was a neglectful narcissist. They made me like this. I’ve pushed it down for too long.”

“But you can be kind! Caring and compassionate and forgiving! You don’t have to be like this!”

“You want me to be kind and forgiving? Ha! The world isn’t kind nor is it forgiving. Why should I be any different?” She shakes her head at you. “I can’t let you do this.” You raise your eyebrows at her and look her up and down.

“Yeah? What are you gonna do about it? You gonna hurt me?”

She has the two of you in opposite positions in a heartbeat, a knife from her thigh plunged into your side.

You cry out in pain, slumping against the wall.

“James!” You shout, eyes full of pure evil as you look at the redhead in front of you.

Her eyes widen as you rip the knife out of your gut and shove it into hers.

The door bursts open as he runs into the room.

“Nat? What’s...” he trails off and you see the switch as the soldier takes over upon seeing you injured. Natasha is torn from you and tossed to the floor while the soldier hovers over you, inspecting the knife wound for a moment before looking back over his shoulder to where the threat is.

She scrambles to her feet and holds one of her hands up in surrender, the other going to her gut and gently holding around the knife wound

“James, listen to me. You need to understand that she isn’t who she says she is.”

You grab his hand, holding tightly and doing your best to look innocent.

“She came in here and tried to convince me to leave you. When I refused she stabbed me and said I was a monster just like you. I-I didn’t want her to hurt you... I had to do it...” You can see him struggling, trying to regain control of his body as the soldier reaches out to you.

“Bucky, Listen to me. She's not who you think she is. I know I vouched for her in the beginning but now it’s different. You’ve gotta listen to me. She’s dangerous. Please. She stabbed you and she stabbed me, James please.”

He looks between the two of you, clearly measuring his options.

“You chose her once, James. Don’t make the same mistake. Please. I trusted you.” You can see the confusion and anguish in his eyes as he looks at you then over at Nat.

“James, please. Please, you need to believe me. I wouldn’t lie to you about this. I know you’re in there.”

“No! She hurt me! She tried to get me to leave you! She tried to come between us! Don’t let her get away with it! Please, James. Please. She did it once, what’s stopping her from doing it again?”

It’s silent for a very long time, the two of you staring at the man, waiting for him to make his decision. When you see his shoulders tense and his jaw clench, you know you’ve won this fight.

The soldier turns to Nat, metal plates in his arm whirring as he clenches his hand in a fist.

“Leave. Never come back. If I ever see you near here again I will kill you.” His words are spat with a thick Russian accent, and it takes all of your self-control not to smile wickedly at the redhead.

“James please! Please, you’ve gotta listen! She isn’t who you think she is!” He says nothing, simply takes your hand and nods at you.

“He picked you last time. Now he’s finally picking me,” you whisper, smiling softly at the man only to grin wickedly at Nat when he turns away.

“Leave now,” he barks, glaring at her until she starts moving. She half runs half limps out of the house, leaving you alone with the soldier.

“Thank you,” you whisper, hugging him tightly then hissing as the wound in your side burns.

He lays you down on the ground, inspecting the gouge before nodding to himself. He stands without another word to retrieve a first aid kit and when he’s beside you again he starts stitching you up, his fingers gentle and kind.

You spend the rest of the day relaxing with the soldier, Bucky hardly making an appearance at all.

You’re getting ready for bed when you feel someone’s eyes on you.

“God, do none of you have any respect for other peoples’ privacy?” You demand, turning around with your hands on your hips.

Steve stands by the door, his arms crossed over his chest and a stern look on his face.

“You know why I’m here.” Is all he says. You nod, pursing your lips and plopping down on your bed.

“The redhead sent you. Came and tattled on me for being a bad girl, right?” He says nothing, but you see a muscle in his jaw twitch.

“Fury’s gonna find out.”

“Oh yeah? And then what? Is he gonna deprive his pet of the one person who can keep him calm and contained?” Steve’s silence is answer enough.

“Don’t act like I’m the bad guy here. You and I both know that you’re just as fucked up as I am, if not more.” He swallows hard and avoids eye contact, making you chuckle.

“Imagine what would happen if people found out about Captain America’s depraved fantasies. Imagine if they knew how badly he craves power... how he longs to make people cower before him. Well, I don’t think they'd react too well to that. Do you?” His nostrils flare as he finally looks at you.

“What do you want?” He asks.

“I want to help you find her. Whoever it is you’re planning on taking. I want to be a part of it.” He furrows his brow, taken aback by your request.

“Why?”

“Because,” you whisper, pushing yourself to your feet and standing right in front of him. “The power is euphoric. It’s addictive. And I wanna feel it again.”

He stares down at you, blue eyes fighting a battle as he mulls over your words.

It’s wrong. He knows it’s wrong. He knows you’re not a good person and that wanting the things he wants isn’t something a good person, a normal person, wants. And yet... there’s something so alluring about you. Something addictive about the darkness inside of you. And he desperately wants a taste of it.

With a huff out of his nose, he glances down.

“So we have a deal?” You ask, a smile playing around the edges of your pretty lips.

“We’ve got a deal.”

[hearts-hunger]

ciryc ca'tra (cold night sky): chapter three || din djarin x reader

Read on AO3 | Masterlist

chapter one | chapter two

Series Summary: When you crash-land on a frozen planet on your way to Trask, you and Din work together to keep the Crest afloat and keep your little family safe under the cold night sky. || Part One of Jate’kara (Lucky Stars)

Chapter Summary: You panic when the baby goes missing, only to find him trying to help his daddy fix the ship. You panic when the frog lady goes missing, only to find her trying to warm her eggs. You panic when there’s suddenly spiders all over the place. You’re really not having a good time on this frozen planet.

Pairings: Din Djarin x Wife!Reader 

Genre: Hurt/comfort, fluff, angst | Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: Maybe old fashioned ideas about marriage? Idk, I’m an old-fashioned kind of girl. Let me know if there’s anything you need me to tag!

A/N: I’ve been writing this fic nonstop for the past few days and it’s the most fun I’ve had in a long time. I’m thoroughly enjoying it, and I hope you are too! Also, I think it’s actually very sexy of me to post each chapter less than 24 hours apart. Enjoy! ♡

You couldn’t get back to sleep.

You tried - your whole body ached with exhaustion, and you knew you should rest - but you were too rattled by the scare with the droid and too worried about Din out in the cold. You tried to find something more productive to do than fret, but the baby had slept through everything, and there was very little to do when you weren’t chasing him around the ship. You’d already organized and cleaned everything you could; there really was nothing to do but wait.

For the sake of your sanity - and Din’s, as you knew an anxious wife was absolutely the last thing he needed right now - you decided on a shower. The refresher was outfitted with a regular shower as well as a sonic; you’d be using the latter, considering the fact that there was no heat on the Crest at the moment. Neatly folding Din’s spare cloak and putting the rest of your clothes in the laundry basket in the refresher, you stepped into the sonic and let the thing work its magic.

The state of the refresher when you’d first come aboard the Crest was... abysmal, to put it honestly. It told you all you needed to know about the Mandalorian bounty hunter you’d met when he arrived in your small town deep in the hills of Naboo: he was used to being alone, and very unfamiliar with a woman’s company. When you started working for him and living on the ship - he’d needed your help finding a man who used to live in your town - you’d asked if there was any way to at least have a door on the blasted thing. He readily complied, and with the help of a few of the handyman types in your community, the Crest’s refresher was sorted out in no time, and more elaborately than you’d hoped for. 

The sonic was made to be used with or without water, and warm lights adorned the new mirror above the sink. Best of all, there was a sliding door - much like the one on the bunk, which had been expanded slightly in all the renovation. Until you were married - only a short while after you came to work for him, as you’d both fallen head over heels in a matter of weeks - Din had slept on the reclining passenger seat in the cockpit. You’d always considered that likely miserable sleeping arrangement and the new refresher his very first love-gifts to you, and you knew you would always cherish his selflessness and generosity.

Clean and a little less wired after the sonic, you quickly put on new clothes and wrapped yourself back in Din’s cloak. You went to check on the baby, sure he was still sleeping; to your dismay and instant panic, your little foundling was nowhere to be found among the blankets you’d nestled him in earlier.

“Ad’ika!” you called, searching through the ship like Din had earlier. Your little one was an escape artist, that much you’d known from the very beginning. Usually it was of little consequence - there were only so many places he could go on the ship, and you or Din found him contentedly playing with his silver ball or some other toy he’d fashioned. But here, with the temperature dropping and the wreckage everywhere and only the tarp between the ship and the icy world outside - you had to find him.

Your panic grew to a fever pitch as you searched the ship high and low, calling for him with an increasingly desperate tone. Finally, positive he wasn’t anywhere on the Crest, you ventured outside; snowdrifts piled across the rocky ground, and the air was bitterly cold. Heedless of your own safety, you searched around the wreckage of the ship, calling for him as you felt the sting of tears.

“Cyar’ika!”

You heard Din’s voice calling you from the other side of the ship, and you made your way to him as quickly as you could. Surely Din would know where your baby was, and if he didn’t, he would know where to look. As you rounded the corner, you almost couldn’t make him out as tears blurred your vision. You tried to collect yourself before you told him - what, that you’d lost your son? That you’d had one job and couldn’t even keep your toddler safe?

Your distress must have shown on your face, because Din reached a consoling hand out to you and met you halfway as you walked through the snow towards him. You prepared to tell him, to beg for his forgiveness and help - 

Then, wrapped in the corner of Din’s cloak and nestled snugly in the crook of his arm, your baby peeked out at you and gave a babble of greeting.

“Oh, Maker,” you gasped, the words coming out like a sob. You reached out for him and Din gave him to you; you held him tight as tears streamed down your face.

“Don’t ever do that to me again,” you said, shoulders shaking as you tried to get a hold of yourself. You felt Din’s hand on your back, drawing you close against him; you let him hold you, the baby pressed safely between you.

“It’s ok, cyare,” Din soothed, running his hand up and down your back. 

You gave a hitching breath. “It’s not ok, Din,” you insisted. “I thought he was - ”

You couldn’t make yourself say it, and felt a flash of anger at your husband that you knew was misdirected, but you didn’t know what to do with the guilt and fear that still ran through you.

“You knew where he was this whole time?” you snapped, looking up at his visor. Your tears were cold on your cheeks, and you angrily brushed them away. “How long was he out here with you, while I was worried sick looking for him?”

Din held up a hand in a conciliatory gesture. “No, I didn’t know he was out here,” he said, determinedly calm and patient. “I only just found him, and I’d just finished getting onto him when I heard you calling for him. I was coming to take him to you, cyare.”

You knew he was telling you the truth - he’d never do something like that to you. You didn’t know what to say, ashamed that you’d accused him of letting you worry needlessly when he’d actually been doing all he could to prevent that.

“S-sorry,” you managed brokenly. You could see your vague reflection in the planes of his helmet, tearful and small and overrun with emotion.

He sighed and drew you close to him again. “I know,” he said gently. “You don’t have to apologize. I know that scared you.”

You shook your head as you leaned against his chest. “He was asleep,” you tried to explain. “I closed the door on the bunk and I just went to take a shower - I didn’t mean to - ”

“It’s not your fault,” he said, giving your shoulder a comforting squeeze. “He knew better than to wander off like that, especially outside.”

Din looked down at the small bundle in your arms, wrapped now in the cloak you wore.

“It was very naughty to make your mama worry like that,” Din said firmly, raising a finger for emphasis. “Don’t do that again.”

The baby gave a babble that sounded somewhat affirmative and apologetic, looking up at you with those big eyes for good measure. You were so relieved that he was alright that you couldn’t stay upset with him; you covered his ears with your cloak and held him close.

“You ought to get back inside, cyar’ika,” Din said. “Try and get warmed up.”

You looked up at him, intending to say that he should come in as well, and felt a wave of guilt that you’d only just realized how his beskar was completely frosted over. The usually shiny metal was dull and white, and you knew he had to be freezing.

“Oh, Din,” you said, reached a hand up to touch the icy side of his helmet. He took your hand in a gentle grip before you could, saving you from touching the cold metal and warming your fingers with his touch.

“Please come inside,” you said, already trying to think of ways to warm him up without any heat on the ship. “You must be freezing.”

“I’m alright,” he soothed, though you knew he was probably more uncomfortable than he let on. “I need to keep working on the repairs. You and the baby shouldn’t be out in this.”

“Neither should you,” you said. “You’re - I mean, you’re covered in frost.”

He nodded. “Beskar clouds pretty quickly in the cold. It’s nothing to worry about.”

You sighed, realizing you weren’t going to get anywhere with him, but you weren’t annoyed. Since the frog lady had urged him to begin repairs sooner, he’d been single-mindedly working on the major parts of the ship that were damaged; he was going to work until he couldn’t feel his fingers any more, and then probably a little bit longer before he came inside. You admired his determination and hard work as much as you worried for him, and you wouldn't have had him any other way.

You were hesitant to leave him, but knew you should get the baby inside.

“At least kiss me before I go,” you said, knowing it was a lot to ask. “That way I can see for myself if you’re turning into an ice block under that helmet.”

He chuckled and lifted the bottom of his helmet just enough to oblige you, giving you a gentle, chaste kiss.

“There,” he said, once his helmet had been replaced. “Warm enough for you?”

You hummed in agreement. “For now.” You lightly tapped your boot against his. “Don’t stay out too long, my love.”

He shook his head. “Ne baatir, cyare.” He’d said that to you enough times over the years that you didn’t have to ask what it meant: don’t worry, beloved.

You gave him one last smile before heading back around the ship, bundling the baby close against the temperature that had started to drop steadily as the sun went down. Minding your steps lest you stumble over a snow-covered rock or bit of debris, you noticed something odd; it looked like there were another set of footprints in the snow, bigger than either yours or Din’s. You stopped and followed them with your gaze, trying not to let fear get the better of you; they led away from the ship towards the jagged side of the cavern, around a corner that seemed to lead into a different cave.

The baby started to babble excitedly, his little clawed hand pointing in the direction of the cave. Goodness, had he followed something out here? Come to think of it, where was your passenger?

You looked back over your shoulder and saw your husband diligently working on a smoking part near the back of the ship.

“Din!” you called. You tried to make your voice carry without any indication of panic, but he looked up and zeroed in on you all the same.

He cocked his head in question, as you weren’t in any obvious danger, and you waved him over. He set his tools aside and started towards you, and you hoped you hadn’t annoyed him by interrupting his work.

“What is it?” he asked, not unkindly, and you knew he hadn’t minded coming over. You gestured to the footprints.

“Do you think it’s the frog lady?” you asked.

He studied the path of the footprints, most likely through his HUD, and sighed.

“She’s not in the ship?” he asked.

“No,” you answered. Recalling your frantic search for the baby, you realized that you hadn’t seen her anywhere. “Why would she leave?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know, but I need to go find her. There’s no telling what’s in those caves.”

You suppressed a shudder at the thought. “Should we go with you?”

He considered that, looking over you and the baby for a moment. “I guess. I don’t feel comfortable leaving you here alone, but - do you think you’ll be warm enough?”

You drew his cloak closer around you and your baby. “I think so. I’d feel better going with you.”

He put a hand on your back as you followed the path of the footprints, his touch steadying and safe. “Just stick close to me, cyare. Don’t wander.”

“Din,” you said, affectionate and a little exasperated. You’d been married to a bounty hunter long enough to know that right by his side was the safest place to be. “When have you ever known me to wander?”

He chuckled. “I know, I know. You’re very good about it.” He looked around as you walked through the mouth of the cave, and you knew he was making himself aware of every possible danger. 

“I don’t have any idea what to look out for,” he said honestly. You could tell how much he hated not knowing what you were up against, not being as prepared to protect you as he would have liked. 

You had never made a habit of questioning his authority - he knew much better than you how to keep you safe, and if he gave you an order in a dangerous situation, you complied. It was the least you could do, considering how often he was called on to protect his wife and child. With your marriage vows, Din had sworn to kar'taylir bal cabuor, to hold you in his heart and to protect you; you had vowed your love and trust in return.

You reached out to put a hand on his arm. “I trust you, Din,” you said simply.

He nodded. “I know, cyare. Thank you.”

You stayed close to your husband's side as the cave darkened and threaded through the columns of ice that loomed on every side; it was eerily quiet except for the sound of your footsteps through the snow. Din scanned the area constantly through his HUD; you trusted him to lead you, as you couldn’t make out the footprints in the dim light. He paused for a moment at a fork in the path.

“There’s a heat signature through there,” he said, nodding to the leftmost path. You held onto the edge of his cloak, hoping to settle both of you a little, and followed as he cautiously made his way down the path.

After a bit of a tricky slope that Din offered his hand to help you over, the path opened up into a cavern that was noticeably warmer than the rest of the cave had been. Steam rose from a wide, shallow pool in the middle of the space that you guessed came from a hot spring. The frog lady was swimming in the pool, her eggs spread out around her like little jewels on the water’s surface.

“There you are,” Din said, his voice echoing around the cavern as he walked over to her. He sounded understandably frustrated; you watched as he got a sense of his surroundings and assessed any threats, undoubtedly coming to the conclusion more quickly than you had that it was too big of a space with too many shadowed corners for him to be at any sort of defensive advantage if the need arose.

“You can’t leave the ship,” he told her, rounding the pool to the side where the egg chamber sat full of liquid but without any of the eggs. “It’s not safe out here.”

You followed and knelt with him beside the pool, putting the baby between you.

“Let’s gather these up,” Din said, gesturing to the eggs bobbing in the warm water. The frog lady croaked in dismay as she cradled a few.

“I know it’s warm,” Din said, a gentle sympathy coloring his voice. He scooped up a handful of the eggs, paying no mind to wetting his gloves, and put them back in the chamber. “But night’s coming fast, and I can’t protect you out here.”

You helped take the eggs out of the water, careful of their seemingly thin protective skin; the water was delightfully warm, and you couldn’t help a fleeting wish to be swimming in it too. You handed the eggs to Din to put back into the chamber.

In your periphery, you saw your baby’s little hand inching towards an egg floating close to the edge of the pool; you and Din both noticed it at the same time, and both of you held an admonishing finger between your son and the tempting egg.

“No,” you said at the same time, in the tone you reserved for scolding. The baby looked from you to Din with a pleading expression, but Din wasn’t fazed.

“No,” he repeated firmly. He went back to gathering the eggs as the baby gave a squeak of protest, and you made a mental note to find your son something to eat when you got back to the ship.

The eggs were more slippery than you’d expected, and rounding them up took all three of you working together. You knew Din was trying to be careful and  quick at the same time; being away from the ship made him wary, and there were a lot of you to protect in such a large space. You helped as best you could, holding out handfuls of eggs for him to put back into the chamber and quickly going back to gather more.

From behind you, you heard the distinctive, fearful cry of your baby; you whirled around, looking everywhere for him, and found him running over from between rows of little white eggs that seemed to be twisting in a sickly, grotesque sort of way.

You felt an icy wash of uncanny terror and needlessly called your husband’s name, abandoning the pool to rush over to your son and pick him up. You saw with a sudden wave of nauseated horror that things were coming from the eggs, chittering things with long, spindly legs. You stumbled backwards and would have lost your footing if Din hadn’t caught you, immediately pulling you back towards the pool.

You couldn't have spurred yourself to move, so horrifically entranced were you by the loathsome creatures as they swarmed over the far side of the cavern floor, but you wondered why your husband didn’t seem any more inclined to action. You felt a little faint.

“Din,” you said uncertainly. You vaguely wondered how often you called your husband’s name like a plea for help, and if it ever wore on him.

“Right here,” he said, and it sounded so unlike him, so dreamy and faint, that it snapped you back to awareness like a slap in the face.

“Din,” you said again, more firmly. You turned and looked at him; he was watching the spider-like creatures start to climb the walls, his posture slack. That alone scared you badly enough to smack a hand against his chestplate in panic.

“Din!” you said again, sharp and loud. The spiders were inching closer, their chittering growing louder with each passing second - 

Your hand on his chest and the sound of your voice seemed to snap him out of it, and his whole body tensed up immediately.

“Kriff,” he bit out, anger and panic tightening his voice even through the vocoder. He shut the canister of eggs and slung it onto his shoulder, taking your upper arm in a firm grip with his free hand.

“Go,” he ordered, and you couldn’t have disobeyed him if you wanted to. He released you and you started to run towards the cave entrance you’d come through earlier, your baby pressed close to your chest - 

You only made it a few feet from the pool when a terrible roar shook the cavern, stopping you dead in your tracks. A giant, eldritch spider was crawling from behind the outcropping at the far side of the cavern, and it was all you could do to hold onto consciousness as you saw it take another step towards you.

Read chapter four!

pedro pascal character taglist: @punkgeekchic​​, @tv-saved-the-teenage-girl​​, @stardust-galaxies​​ ♡

series taglist: @kyjoraven​​, @sarahjkl82-blog​​, @remmysbounty​​ ♡

let me know if you’d like to be added to either taglist! ♡

[suga-kookiemonster]

cloud nine | pjm

summary⇢ “he’s here again,” viv whispers. “you know who. the hot guy who’s totally into you.” and he is hot--devastatingly hot enough that you know he can’t actually be into you, because the universe simply doesn’t work that way. that still doesn’t stop your heart from pounding when he smiles at you from across the room. pairing⇢ jimin/reader word count⇢ 5.4k rating⇢ 18+ genre⇢ smut | horror warnings⇢ sexual content, dubcon, blood, biting, fingering, dirty talk, unprotected sex, honestly jimin is crazy af. just out of his got!!!damn mind 

a/n⇢  this idea has been sitting in my drafts for at least two years now, but for some reason, i thought hey, i should finally write it for jimin’s birthday. then his birthday passed and i thought that’s cool. it can be for halloween. needless to say...happy seokjin’s birthday, jimin ☠️☠️merry christmas, baby boy 💕🤣

THIS FIC IS NOT CUTE. you’ve been warned 👀 also, as i always do, i’ve been staring at this for too long and am overthinking it and idk how i feel about it anymore. but take it anyway 😭mood is this song~

“He’s here again,” Viv whispers.

It’s only with great, pointed effort that you don’t look up, putting all your energy into focusing on counting the correct change for the awaiting customer at your register. “Who?” you ask, hoping to come off disinterested, but knowing full well who she’s talking about. Who you spend each shift hoping will show up.

“You know who,” your friend hisses, but she has the good sense to wait until you have given the customer the receipt and they’ve turned to leave the store before elaborating. “The guy.” Viv starts not-so-subtly tipping her head in his direction. “The hot guy who’s totally into you.”

Without anything to distract you, your eyes naturally gravitate towards said hot guy. He’s browsing the new display of holiday scents you had set up a couple days ago, and now that it’s close to closing time, he’s the only customer in the store. Honestly, it can’t be helped that your gaze travels over his lithe form, seemingly poured into a pair of black skinny jeans that—even from across the room—showcase thick thighs and a fantastic ass.

He’s been blessing you with his presence for the past couple months or so, often popping into your store during your nightshifts and making you weak in the knees while he did nothing more than peruse your candle selection, engage in pleasant small talk, and send you smiles that crinkled his eyes in the corners. Viv, a frequent spectator to these interactions, is well aware of your little crush, and has now got it into her head that the two of you could actually be a thing. A reciprocal thing that does not live entirely in your imagination. You appreciate her enthusiasm, but you’re also not delusional.

“He’s not into me,” you murmur shyly, forcing yourself to avert your gaze in case he caught you.

Viv shoots you an incredulous look. “_____—he comes in here all the time. Nobody needs that many fucking candles!” She shakes her head. “I mean, the other option is that he summons demons and shit, but I feel like in that case it would be fiscally irresponsible to spend extra for candles that smell like clean linen. But the fact that he only ever comes to your register makes me think the first option is more likely. He’s into you.”

“Maybe he’s a rich demon summoner,” you counter smartly. “Or maybe he just doesn’t like you.”

Viv is visibly unamused by your jest. She’s told you before that though she’s seen him occasionally walk by the store when she’s had a shift without you, she’s only ever seen him actually come in and buy something from you specifically. You want to joke that it’s due to your vast knowledge of aromatics, but excitement bubbles in your stomach despite your best efforts.

The handsome stranger casually walks from one display to the next, naturally looking in your direction in the process. You freeze.

“Welcome to Heaven Scent,” Viv says cheerily, her customer-service voice turned on. “Can we help you find anything?”

“A-Ah, no thank you.” He seems a bit caught a bit off-guard at being addressed, a shy smile touching his lips. His soft brown eyes roam over to you. “I’m just looking.”

Your heart pounds in your ears. His smile grows.

Viv looks like the cat that ate the canary, I told you so coming off her in waves. “Well, you just let us know!” she tells him sweetly, before turning her attention to you with a mischievous look in her eye. “Ah, I forgot that I was supposed to check inventory of the beach scents before closing today—I’ll be in the back if you need me, okay?”

“Vivienne,” you hiss, unable to keep the underlying distress from your tone. Is she really going to leave you with him? The gorgeous stranger? Sex on legs? Doesn’t she know you well enough by now to realize that if told to sink or swim, this is a situation in which you are going to completely embarrass yourself and sink?

Either she doesn’t know, or she doesn’t care, because Viv only waggles her fingers saucily at you and disappears into the back room, nonplussed by the daggers you stare into her back.

You let out a shuddery breath, stopping yourself at the last second from nervously picking at the bug bite on your neck. Willing yourself to act normally and not like a starstruck moron. But you don’t have much time to catch your bearings, as the handsome customer casually picks up two candles from the table he is browsing and starts heading your way without smelling them.

“Find everything okay?” you croak, awkwardly clearing your throat.

He smiles at you again. “Yes. Thank you, _____.”

The sound of your name on his tongue startles you, your hand pausing in its reach for one of his candles, before you remember the name tag pinned to your shirt. Stupid.

Your heart pounds in your ears. His smile widens. You try not to notice, because you’re not sure you can stop yourself from staring at the plush lips you may or may not have had many an inappropriate thought about.

Your fingers wrap around the candle, on autopilot as you start to ring him up.

“I’m Jimin, by the way,” he says, propriety forcing you to look up from your task and meet his kind eyes. “I feel like we see each other around a lot, but haven’t properly spoken.”

Your lips twitch, and you bite them to suppress the smile that wants to erupt across your face. “You’re right,” you agree easily. “Nice to meet you, Jimin.”

Something flits across his expression, but it’s gone too quickly for you to properly recognize it. He quietly watches you ring up his items for a few moments, handing you his credit card when prompted. It isn’t until you’re passing him his receipt that he speaks again. “Listen, I’m sorry if this is weird, and I know this is a bit forward, but I would really love to buy you a drink sometime.”

You’re so thrown by this turn of events that for a few seconds, you can do nothing but gape at him. Jimin watches you flounder, running a nervous hand through his luscious hair. You dazedly watch the dark strands fall perfectly back into place.

“I’ve just been getting the vibes that there might be something…here? Between us. Or at least that there could be. And I would really like the chance to get to know you better.” Your stunned silence only encourages his rambling. “But I swear I’m not trying to be creepy, and I totally get it if—”

“Yes.”

He pauses, surprised. You are too, the word slipping past your lips before you could register it. Still, you stick to your guns.

“I get off in an hour?” you offer, uncertain.

But Jimin just grins at you, eyes turning into half-moons. “An hour it is.”

After exchanging numbers, he leaves, sending you pleased glances over his shoulder his entire trek out of the store.

When she conveniently emerges from the back ten minutes later, Viv begs you to spill the tea. But, wary of jinxing the evening ahead, you choose to keep this to yourself a little longer.

That doesn’t make it any easier to suppress your glee.

The bar Jimin asks you to meet him at is one you’re familiar with, though have never been inside. It’s one of the newer establishments, in one of the trendier parts town, and you’ve heard good reviews, but haven’t had the chance to check it out before tonight.

I got us a table towards the back, he had replied to your initial I’m headed over text. So now you’re scanning the room, side-stepping a few people as you make your way further in.

It’s already relatively crowded tonight, even at 10pm, and you take that as a good sign. The patronage is a good mix, but it definitely skews your age range—and attractive. Jimin will fit right in in this type of setting, but you can’t help but feel a bit self-conscious as you glance at everyone else, inwardly cursing yourself for coming straight from work instead of stopping at home first and putting on something more presentable. The only thing that calms your nerves a bit is the fact that Jimin has already seen you in your simple sweater and jeans—had even asked you out while you were wearing them—so you hope the bit of lipstick you had swiped on on the walk over is appealing enough.

You push deeper in, noting how busy the bartenders already are, hustling to take orders from everyone leaning across the bar, vying for their attention. Predictably, no one pays you any attention, too busy chatting amongst themselves or trying to secure their beverages. So it throws you completely off when you just happen to turn your head and lock eyes with someone.

He’s handsome. Possibly the most attractive person you have ever set eyes on, to be honest. Perfectly-styled raven hair, full lips, dark eyes still set on you, despite being caught red-handed in his staring. He’s sitting at a hightop table only a few feet away from you, sipping amber liquid from a glass as he observes you observing him. A curious eyebrow raises and it snaps you out of your bewildered daze, so, embarrassed, you look away, forced to pass his table in your trek towards the back but doing your best to ignore the self-conscious warmth racing across your skin.

“_____.”

It’s not spoken very loudly, but you’re close enough to hear him over the din. You pause, turning your head slowly and disbelievingly. Still thinking he’s calling out to someone else, someone with the same name. But when you look at him, his intense gaze is still solidly on you. He idly swirls the drink in his glass.

“Are you okay?”

The blood in your veins freezes.

How…

How does he know your name?

“W-What?” you ask, a deer in the headlights.

His lip quirks, apparently amused by you. “I asked,” he repeats, “if you’re okay.”

“Um—”

“She’s fine!” a voice snaps, and suddenly Jimin is next to you. He’s visibly agitated, his previously soft eyes steeled over, nostrils flaring. A hand pulls you closer to his side and farther away from the stranger.

The dark-haired man isn’t at all intimidated by Jimin’s sudden display. He casually shifts on his chair, looking rather bored at the metaphorical raising of hackles. “I just thought—”

“You thought wrong. Mind your own fucking business, Seokjin.”

The man—Seokjin—slides his eyes to you again. You, who is glancing back and forth between them with growing confusion and unease. He shrugs. “I don’t really care, to be honest. It was just a question.” His reply is flippant, and he takes an unbothered sip from his glass. But his entire expression hardens as he swallows. “I’m telling you now, though. If you ruin it for the rest of us, I will be forced to care. And I will have a problem.”

Your date’s expression sours further, but he chooses not to answer him. “Come on,” Jimin mutters to you, leading you away with a gentle hand at your waist. “Our table’s back here.”

Seokjin gives you one last look, something tinging his gaze, before he finally turns away and goes back to his drink.

(It isn’t until much later that you recognize that something as pity.)

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” Jimin says, contrite. None of his previous anger lingering in his demeanor as the two of you settle into your seats. “I hope I haven’t messed up our date already.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you reassure him, though questions still swirl within your mind. You settle on the easiest one. “Who was that?”

His lips tighten. “Just some guy. We’re not friends, but we run in the same circles, and for some reason he thinks that gives him the right to always butt into my life.”

Someone Jimin knows, then. But how did he know who you were? Did Jimin talk about you to people?

It makes you warm, thinking about how he possibly talks about you the same way you talk to Viv about him. You bite your lip, hiding a smile.

“But let’s not worry about him,” he says, shaking his head with finality. “Are you hungry?”

“No, I ate on my break,” you inform him. “But I could definitely go for a drink.”

Jimin grins, sliding from his seat. “A drink it is,” he says with a wink, walking away before you can say anything else. For a second, you worry that his walking past Seokjin might start something back up, but you watch as the two men pointedly ignore each other, Jimin making his way to the bar and easily getting a bartender’s attention.

He doesn’t leave you sitting alone for long, coming back with a glass of red wine and another with a golden liquid. Your eyes widen in surprise as you take in the garnish of lemon, fingers automatically closing around the cool glass when he hands it to you. A sip confirms it—a sidecar, your favorite.

“How did you know I like these?” you ask with a smile.

“An educated guess,” he replies cheekily. He’s pleased with himself, you can tell—lips quirked, eyes turning into crescents.

“Love an educated man.” Heat flushes your skin, immediately embarrassed by your attempt at flirting, but it has the intended effect all the same, Jimin’s smile widening. You clear your throat. “So, tell me more about yourself. What is it that you do exactly that requires so many candles?”

Your date takes a deep swallow from his glass. You watch his Adam’s apple bob. “If I’m being completely honest,” he says, sheepish, “I really only go there for you.”

Your breath catches, unable to believe what he’s telling you. So Viv was right. Once you tell her, you’ll never hear the end of it. “Really?”

He seems amused by your shyness. “Really.”

“Oh,” you say dumbly. Taking a few swigs of your own drink if only to give yourself something to do.

“What about you? How did you get into the candle-selling business?”

“Sallie Mae.”

The two of you continue chatting, and Jimin makes sure your glass isn’t empty for too long. It’s really nice. He’s really nice, and it blows your booze-addled mind that someone like Jimin—who is so obviously out of your league—could possibly be interested in you. Especially when you’re apparently a lightweight, at least in comparison to him! A couple hours in and you’re stumbling over your words a little bit, everything already hazy at the edges, but Jimin looks perfectly fine.

“I’ve had an amazing time tonight,” you say, interrupting your own monologue about what makes a good grilled cheese. “But I think…I think I should head home. Before I get sloppy and you realize you don’t like me anymore.”

“That’ll never happen,” he says, laughing, and everything about him is affectionate as he gazes at you.

Jimin’s laugh reminds you of sunshine. God, you hope this isn’t the last time you’ll hear it.

“But let’s get you home,” he concedes, rising from his seat with a fluidity and grace you could never attempt to match, even when completely sober. He waits for you to clumsily gather your coat and helps you put it on, like the gentleman he is. His hand finds the small of your back, and he leads you out of the bar and turns left.

“You don’t have to walk me!” you protest as he guides you across the street at the intersection. “I’m not far from here, actually. Just five blocks or so.”

“Don’t be silly,” he huffs. His hand shifts, and slowly curls around your waist. “It’s dark. It’s dangerous for you to be out alone.”

“Well.” You smile, giddy. Satisfaction bubbles in your belly. “If you insist.”

The two of you walk the rest of the way in relative silence, merely enjoying each other’s company. But you hadn’t been lying—your stroll was short-lived, as you lived relatively close to the bar. Jimin guides to the two of you to a halt in front of your apartment building, and you bite your lip, hesitant.

Would you ever see this wonderful man again? Would he continue to visit you at your job? Would this become something more?

Or had this night effectively scratched his itch, satisfied his curiosity?

Would he say goodnight and then walk out of your life forever?

“Would you like to come up for coffee?” you blurt loudly. Jimin’s eyes widen, and so do yours, surprised at your own liquored tongue. This is not like you at all—you don’t do this sort of thing. Viv would be proud, but honestly? So are you. Because if this is the last time you see him, you're going out with a bang.

But the almost-scrutinizing way he’s looking at you is making you nervous.

“You don’t have to,” you say, much more timidly this time.

“I would love some coffee,” he responds pleasantly, but his eyes are dark.

The two of you barely make it into the elevator.

Suddenly, his hands are everywhere—lips locked, your pelvis rolling into his as he crowds you into the corner. You moan into his mouth, arching into his touch and, in turn, touching every part of him you can reach. The elevator dings when it hits your floor, and you both somehow exit and make your way down the hallway without parting. You fumble for your keys when he pushes you against your front door, only pulling away to give you just enough space to open it.

When you grab him and keep kissing him, pulling him forward by his jacket, he follows you without protest. But as soon as you walk through the doorway, his lips detach from yours, his feet still firmly in the hallway. You look at him confusion, worried you’ll find regret—rejection—written across his face. Instead, you only find a slight hesitance. So you muster up the courage to give him one last push.

“Come in.” You swallow, unsure. “If…if you still want to.”

Jimin’s resulting smile is blinding. He steps over the threshold, hands immediately reaching for your hips. “Of course I want to,” he murmurs, fingers curving lower to bless your ass. You shudder, and suddenly the front door is slammed shut and you’re grabbing at each other again. A complete mess of hands. Of tongue, of teeth.

A hand unbuttons your jeans and then slips beneath the waistband with no hesitation, fingers gliding down your lips and finding them already sticky. Jimin groans when he hits the jackpot, fingertips dipping shallowly into your sopping entrance a few times and dragging it upwards. If you had any sense left or were sober, you would be embarrassed by how easily your body has betrayed you. But you don’t and you’re not, so you just whimper, eyes rolling as he puts indirect pressure on your clit, just how you like.

The first finger enters you slowly but surely, only slightly restricted by the confines of your pants. He drags it back out, a tease, before adding another with enough force to shake the door. You keen against his tongue, hips lifting restlessly against the stimulation of him repeatedly pounding into your wet heat. 

“Bed,” you manage to choke out, halfway delirious. In all honesty, you’re more than okay with him fucking you senseless against this door, but some small part of you is still cognizant of your neighbors.

Jimin peels himself off of you, but his hands on your hips guide you into following him. And you eagerly do, desire in your veins and pooling between your legs.

Clothes are rapidly shed, thrown uncaringly on the floor. Jimin stares unabashedly at your bare form, tongue swiping across his plush lips. And you feel everything but self-conscious, because you can tell immediately that he likes what he sees.

He wants you. He’s hungry, and only you can satiate him.

Just as well, because you’re just as hungry, the hard panes of his chiseled physique, his thick thighs, making you absolutely famished.

You crawl onto the bed and slowly spread your legs, giving him a proper look at his meal. His eyes follow your every move, and it doesn’t take more than a breath for him to join you, slotting easily against you, chest to chest, breath misting your face.

“So wet,” he murmurs, propping your leg and gliding the length of himself through your arousal. “I can take you right now, sweetheart. Just like this. Is that what you want? Want to be stuffed full of my cock?”

His fingers had been amazing, but you can already tell they will pale in comparison to what he’s promising you. “Yes,” you whimper. “Yes, yes, Jimin, fuck me.”

He releases a ragged breath at that, and a shift of his hips has him easily parting your folds, stuffing you just as good as he promised. You’re rendered speechless, your mouth falling open in ecstasy as he starts riding you hard but slow, in a way that makes your toes curl. Your hands drift up to tangle in his raven locks, tugging as if you can somehow pull him even closer to you.

You’re speechless, but Jimin is rambling, the hot grip of your cunt apparently turning off any and all filters he may have previously had.

“God, I missed this,” he groans. “Missed you. Missed this pussy.”

Your eyes fly open, landing on him uncertainly. A knot starts to form in your gut, and it’s not the sexy kind. What? What the fuck is he talking about?

He leans in, occupying your lips with his again before you can question him. “Mine,” he mutters against you, moving to stick his face into the crook of your neck and groaning against the skin. “Shit. Smell so fucking good.”

You blink rapidly, brain still scrambling to make sense of his words, and that’s when what you’ve done sinks in.

You’ve just let a stranger enter you without a barrier.

You, timid you, who doesn’t do sex outside of committed relationships. You, who’s currently partaking in your first-ever one night stand.

Raw.

It’s too late now, but the building anxiety won’t rest until you ask. “Are you clean?” you gasp, blood thundering in your ears.

“Yes,” Jimin answers against your neck, though it sounds labored. He rips his face away, turning it to the side and away from your scrutiny. His hips never halting their assault. “J-Just..just relax.”

Something’s not right. Something hasn’t been right for a long while, but the haze of lust and liquor are finally lifting enough for you to notice. Why isn’t he looking at you? Why is he so pointedly and purposely not looking at you?

“What?”

“Relax for me,” he repeats to your closet door, and, wary, you lift a hand and gently guide his face back to you. He freezes at your touch, cock stuttering inside you, and meets your gaze, pupils completely blown. “Fuck, you smell good,” he says again, under his breath.

Your brows furrow in confusion, especially when he turns to nuzzle against your palm. It doesn’t take long for him to start practically panting like a dog.

And that’s when you notice his abnormally-elongated canines.

Your blood pressure skyrockets, and his nostrils flare.

“Jimin…Jimin, what’s going on?”

The hand on your thigh tightens until it hurts. You can see the veins in his neck from how hard he’s clenching his teeth. “Calm down, sweetheart.”

“What the fuck!”

“Take some deep breaths, okay?”

“Are those real? Jimin, why the fuck do those look real?!”

Your heart rattles in its cage. Jimin flinches, like he can hear it. You realize with dawning horror that he probably can.

“Oh my god—”

“I need you to calm down, my love,” he pushes through his grit teeth. His grit teeth, which are much too sharp and too long to be natural. Sharp and long and nothing like how you’re used to seeing them. How they’ve been the whole night. 

He meets your eyes again, and you gasp.

They’re completely black. Bottomless voids, dark as ink.

Any hope of you calming down goes out the window when you lock eyes with what you now recognize to be a predator.

Your entire body goes into red alert, muscles reflexively locking up, everything frozen as if not moving will somehow prevent him from seeing you. Your breathing accelerates, and you can hear the staccato of your heart compensating in your eardrums.

An involuntary twitch of your hand is all it takes for him to strike, a cobra reacting on instinct. Entirely too fast for you to see, but it doesn’t matter, because you certainly feel it when his fangs sink into your neck, excruciating pain electrifying every single atom of you with blinding heat. You’re barely lucid to the way his cock still fervently pistons within you—you can’t even scream, you’re in so much agony.

Until you’re not.

Warmth radiates from where he feeds from you, pain rapidly morphing into a pleasure so intense, you struggle to breathe. You cling to him in hopes of having something to ground you, something to tether you in the face of the oncoming tsunami. Eyes rolling back into your head, cunt squeezing into a vicegrip that has Jimin snarling against your neck.

The next thing you know, you’re staring dazedly at the ceiling. As you blink away your spotted vision, Jimin’s worried face enters your line of sight. He’s no longer inside you, and his eyes are normal. His teeth are normal. You would think that you had hallucinated the whole thing, but a telling trail of red still drips from the corner of his mouth.

“Sweetheart,” he murmurs, a hand drifting to your arm. “Are you okay?”

A few hours ago, his melodic voice would have given you chills. Now, the chills that race down your spine are for a completely different reason, your exhausted limbs still managing to lock up at his touch.

“No,” you whisper, body starting to tremble. “No, please, oh my god—”

“It’s okay,” he says, running his hands up your arms in what he probably thinks is a reassuring manner. His eyes are soft, but his lips are still stained with your lifeblood. It is not okay. “It’s okay.”

His attempt to calm you has the complete opposite effect—your body electrifies at his touch, and suddenly you’re bucking. You’re kicking. You’re pushing his face away from you with enough force to snap his head to the side. You’re pounding on his chest, you’re scratching. Your heart pumps adrenaline through you, fight or flight kicking in in a last-ditch effort to save you.

But Jimin easily subdues you, your attack barely registering. “Stop it,” he huffs, sitting on your legs. His hands halting the scrabbling of yours and forcing them back to your sides. You burst into tears, and it only makes him visibly more concerned as he wipes them away. “You’re going to hurt yourself again,” he says gently.

“Please don’t kill me,” you sob.

“Kill you?” Jimin sounds absolutely dumbfounded. “I would never hurt you, sweetheart. I love you.”

He’s crazy. This man—this thing—is fucking crazy, but when you open your mouth to tell him so, pathetic whimpers are the only things that escape. All you can do is lie there, pushing down your sudden and intense urge to vomit as he leans forward and brushes his lips against yours.

“Please. Please let me go—”

“I know this is a shock, sweetheart, but just take some deep breaths for me—”

“I promise I won’t tell anybody, please—”

“You’re safe here. I love you—”

“You don’t fucking know me!” you scream.

A storm crosses his face, eyes sharp. “I know everything about you,” he says lowly. The tone immediately making sweat bead across your hairline.

You believe him. I really only go there for you, he had told you, and you hadn’t listened. “Let me go,” you say again, this time no more than a whimper. Fear shooting through your entire body.

Jimin’s expression softens. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you—I never meant to scare you—”

“LET ME GO!” you shriek. You start bucking again, and Jimin scrabbles to secure your wild limbs.

“Keep your voice down, sweetheart—”

“GET AWAY FROM ME!”

“Please don’t make me do this,” he says, tone notably disappointed. “I hate it when you make me do this.”

What the fuck. What the FUCK.

“WHAT THE FUCK—”

He grabs your face with a hand, fingers squishing your lips into a pout. A little drool drips out the corners before you can stop it. “Look at me,” he instructs, and he’s giving you that expression again. The one that you have always interpreted as gentle, but can now clearly see is patronizing.

“Look at me,” his voice echos, multiplied. Multiplied like the kaleidoscope colors swimming your vision. “Look.” You fall deeper.

“Get out,” you whisper, and then everything is black.

“He’s here again,” Viv hisses, an unsubtle elbow knocking in between your ribs. Your head snaps in his direction before you can stop it, butterflies in your belly. “For the last time. This man wants to bone you.”

“Say that a little louder,” you sigh, trying not to be too obvious in the way your attention is drawn to his every move. The handsome stranger smiles at you in greeting, and you send him a shy one back that is missed as he turns to browse the kitchen scents.

“I honestly don’t know what you’re waiting for,” Viv mumbles from the side of her mouth. “Shoot your shot. This is a slam dunk.”

Is it? You aren’t sure, unused to men as gorgeous as the one frequenting your store being interested in you. What if Viv had read the situation completely wrong, and you offend him? Make him uncomfortable enough that he stops coming? Did you really want to be singlehandedly responsible for your store’s revenue taking a nosedive? How were you supposed to explain that to your manager?

“Find everything okay?” Viv says cheerily, and you’re immediately knocked out of your spiraling thoughts when you realize he’s here again. Here, right in front of your register.

“Yes, thank you,” he tells her with a smile. His front tooth is slightly crooked. Fuck is he hot.

Viv announces that she’s going to clean up a little, and moves to dust some candles near the front of the store that most definitely don’t need dusting. You don’t know why she keeps insisting on leaving you alone with him—the last time she went to “check inventory” in the back, your interaction with him only ended up lasting the length of his transaction, as he had exited the store as promptly as he had entered it. But Viv insists on playing wingman, so, once again, you’re left virtually alone with him.

Your hand raises, and you have to stop yourself from nervously touching a bug bite on your neck. Something has been biting you lately, leaving small but inflamed marks on your skin. Though you had already googled it and ruled out bedbugs, you really needed to talk to your landlord about the issue, as you don’t pay all that rent for a bug-infested place. In the meantime, the concealer you had carefully put over the blemish would definitely rub off if you keep messing with it. And god forbid you allow yourself to look like a leper in front of the hot stranger.

Clearing your throat, you begin to ring him up. “Country peach,” you say awkwardly. “That’s a good scent.”

“It is,” he replies, clearly amused. His head slightly tilts as he regards you.

You swallow.

“I’m Jimin,” he offers, and you tingle all the way down to your toes.

[imdreaminadream]

The results pt 2 ~ “What about it makes you cringe?” Category 1

( - prologue.   - part 1  - category 2  - category 3)

Okay so this is the results to the question in the quiz, What about it makes you cringe. In reference to the questionnaires core subject about smut fanfics.

 Also quick psa there will be a part for the results for the other question -  “In kpop fics, Korean words i.e. jagiya, seem to be a no no, would you like to elaborate why?”

Now note these particular results are going to be split into 3 posts because I decided to split the results into 3 categories. 1 - Writing Aspects. 2 -  Personal Preferences. 3 - Genuine Problems.   

>THIS POST IS CATERGORY 1<

DISCLAIMER BELOW. (please read that before continuing)

This is going to be a long post. The responses were very enlightening but please don’t take this as an attack. Consider this more as constructive cheat sheet to good smut writing or just ignore it if you don’t agree with it. Some of this did get a bit deep appropriate trigger warnings will be put on the appropriate posts but I’m not sorry it got deep fics can also affect real life as much as we wish it were something that didn’t mix in with real life, it does. I’m no official like sex guru or big-time writer, or what ever BUT I did add little advice underneath each answer, which are just a reflection of the people’s answers. Again if you don’t like the sounds of this don’t take it personal and click off. 

Writing aspects.

Poorly written/typos – Nearly all of the people said that, poorly written, bad grammar and lots of typos made them cringe. Answers said that sometimes works are so poorly written it comes across as though the person writing doesn’t know how sex works. Now by poorly written they talked about, the plot being non sensical, choppy or lacking decent grammar, too many typos, using words in the wrong context, repetitive language. They also specified they understand not everyone’s first language is English but the least that can be done is proofreading of the works by them or someone else. And many people cried over the use of first person, they felt it brings them out of imagining the fic. 

Language used – So they we’re talking about strange words for body parts especially genitals, and just weird terms and phrases in general. Regarding body parts, everyone mentioned that childish or full-on scientific names for genitals was the worst. Feedback suggests calling it a dick, cock – although some commented that cock sounded too vulgar, and pussy. Also referring to female’s arousal as juices was a common answer, to quote one of my fav answers “so none of that her juices coated my fingers’ Like bitch it aint orange juice.” Then for weird terms and phrases, no specific example was given but I’m certain they meant things that literally every man and their dog would not say, ever! Personal opinion here but, “you like what you see?” and “Your wish is my command.”, and “tongues fighting for dominance.” should die off. It’s overused and I’m sick of seeing it – pretty sure no one says that during sex in real life anyway.

So, to avoid it alls you need to do is use second or third person, proofread, and learn how sex works if you don’t know. Also, best way to proofread it to leave it a few days then come back and read it again – also there are apps like Grammarly that help with your writing too. (PSA I personally love proofreading work, because I’m weird like that, so if you ever want me to proofread drop me a message/anon.)

So, take a moment to consider what you are writing, again proofreading is very helpful, and just stick to the mature ways to say dick/pussy. Suggestion here if you can’t write it the mature way, stop writing smut fics because clearly you’re either not mature enough or uncomfortable (to be) writing smut. 

Dialogue – Too much dialogue and not enough action cropped up a number of times. Also that the dialogue written is cringy essentially, Then there was too much dirty talk, and dirty talk that shouldn’t even be considered dirty talk which commented a lot in regards to dialogue. And although I think I wrote about this answer previously but weird words, exaggeration, and choppiness in the dialogue. (someone commented over use of buzzword but idk what buzzwords are.) May I also personally add that written fake stutters irritate the living day lights out of me just stop.

---- I actually did another questionnaire about this, it didn’t garner same amount as this one but it gained a good few responses. The answers should be available to see, if you want you can take a look at that to see more about people thoughts when it comes to dirty talk in fics. ----

Advice is, keep in mind when writing dirty talk what sounds good, to plausible, to terrible. Just think about what sounds realistic as well, draw on your own experiences or what you want to be said to you. Also, if you don’t find it sexy don’t write it for everyone else’s sake or to fit in with the trend, stay true to yourself but try to vary it up for each fic you write.

No build up – They talked about how some fics go straight to the dicking down, to action, with no build up or a bit of sensical plot, and it doesn’t work. Or if the characters haven’t even talked and suddenly, they’re down to fuck. They expressed it doesn’t make sense and doesn’t feel like the characters are even that interested, as though they’re fucking for the sake of fucking. This also ties in with some comments that said sometimes people fail to remember smut isn’t just about being railed, it is also about connections with people and making love so going straight to the fucking, fails to make the reader want to continue reading.

The solution to this is to reference history/tension or build up the tension between characters, or just set the scene a little bit before getting straight into it. Also remember no one is having sex without some foreplay and if they are it isn’t very good, so don’t let it be like that in your writing. 

Lack of realism/inaccuracies – Okay so this was mainly in regard to sex, the way the body works and some scenarios. To elaborate, people said that there are just some sex positions and places to have sex that just don’t work. In example one person wrote how sex in a gaming/office chair doesn’t work well and they know through personal experience. So, for the readers it’s just super unrealistic that it happens, and it leaves the reader either fixated on figuring out how that is possible or cringing because they know it’s not possible rather than reading the rest of the fic. There’re also just some ways the body doesn’t work I’m not going to go through examples there are so many, but we all know what is meant. Also, I’ll mention that kinks also were apart of the lack of realism, I’ll talk more about that in the next post.

So, based on this the only thing I can say is keep it real and keep it accurate as possible. Like we know its fiction but consider how ridiculous some of the stuff you’re writing may be, how impossible it is. Just don’t be afraid to google things – you can actually freeze and delete your search history – to double check or educate yourself about. Or ask for advice, draw from experience, or maybe try it out yourself with or without your partner then reflect that in your writing.

----------------------------------

END OF CATERGORY 1

(Feel free to discuss in comments, in my messages or send anons or anything like that if you want.)

Tag list

@nctsworld, @lauraneuuh, @jooniyah, @ceoofxiaojun, @lovemayble @hyucksie​ @myelle-n

- if anyone else wants to be tagged for the next parts let me know via anon or dm -

[beloved-child-of-the-house]

Fic Writer Questions! (you can find me here on AO3 if you're interested!)

tagged by dear @theburialofstrawberries mwah!

1) How many works do you have on AO3?

112 yowza!

2) What’s your total AO3 word count?

750,421 kinda tempted to go delete one word so it can be 750420 which is a far more Pleasing number

3) How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

12ish but some of them overlap: BBCS/Sherlock Holmes/ACD (these are all different bc my bbcs fics are not the same as my own modern fem Sherlock Holmes adaptation are not the same as my ACD Holmes fic; Good Omens; Harry Potter/The Werewolf Draco Malfoy Cinematic Universe; Captive Prince; The Hobbit; Fleabag (it was a crossover with BBCS but Fleabag is the perspective character so it still counts as a separate fandom imo); Doctor Who; The Office; Parks and Rec; Broad City (one a piece for those last 5 but I AM going to write a Parks and Rec polycule fic for @gaykagome)

4) What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

They're all Good Omens fics from the 2019 Summer of Good Omens! Susceptible to Summer, Fragments Shored Against My Ruin, Something So Magic, Enter Serpent, and Anything We Like

All of those have over 2k except the last one, but average engagement for me is like 400 kudos or so

5) Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I try! It depends on what's going on with me. Sometimes I just don't have the energy, and I figure people would rather I spend my brain power on writing new fics than on writing replies to comments. Wish I had a fave button tho so I could let people know I read and reread comments, because I do!

6) What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Oh I wrote this ficlet series called A Chemical Defect about John and Sherlock's relationship in s3 of BBCS, and it's WILDLY unpopular. People don't read my fic to cry sad tears I guess! John and Sherlock are having an affair in the story, and it ends with the implication that their relationship is unsustainable and that Mary knows about it anyway. I intended to come back to it after s4 and write a more optimistic ending but LOL! Didn't have the heart.

7) What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

I know this answer is kinda up my own ass, but like. I think stories that feel true to life sort of feel like they end on a beginning if you know what I mean? You don't really consider a chapter of your life closed until you look back on it from the next? SO that said, I think I'd have to say that it's my big BBCS serial The Only One in the World. I spent 2 years writing it, and it ends with John retiring from medicine to solve crimes and write books full time.

Could also be my WDMCU (werewolf Draco Malfoy cinematic universe) series Moonrise, which starts with Draco isolated in his abusive mother's house, trying to cope with lycanthropy essentially alone and ends with him in love and surrounded by found family in a cozy cottage in Hogsmeade, having gotten some lycanthrope rights legislation passed after working at it for years and talking to Harry about whether they want to have kids. Oh man I feel warm and fuzzy just thinking about it

8) Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

I have written one crossover. It's BBCS/Fleabag, because me and @loudest-subtext-in-tv were laughing about how John seems like one of the horrible guys Fleabag sleeps with basically out of self loathing, so I wrote this fic to make Nattie laugh, and you should read it bc it's so good and so underrated.

9) Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Not really, but people don't seem to know that authors can read bookmark tags unless you private the bookmark, and someone once put in the bookmark tag on one of my fics 'writing was meh but it was okay.' Okay so why bookmark it then??

10) Do you write smut? If so what kind?

Fuck yes! I'm not sure what 'what kind?' means? People fucking? Sloppy, silly, and awkward, with lots of laughing. I also really like writing afterglow scenes which are even sillier and gigglier and often involve one character cooking for another. Food as love language is a very distinct pattern of mine tbh

11) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of, but occasionally I'll write a post on here where I make some elaborate head canon, and I'll see people in the tags talking about how they want to write fic of it, and it makes me breathe fire out of my nose like a dragon like PLEASE DON'T. The WDMCU came out of a ficlet post I made on here like a year before I actually wrote the 60k series so like!!! Please don't do that!

12) Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! To Russian and I believe Chinese. Not my entire oeuvre but a handful of BBCS and Good Omens fics

13) Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, but I wrote a fic inspired by an RP I did with my gf right around when we met (actually now that I think about it, it's two fics), and I waaaaaaanna do a WDMCU collab with my beloved Sally @clytemenestras at some point if he has time bc he inspired me to even write werewolf draco with his original lesbian werewolf story

14) What’s your all time favorite ship?

favorites are hard for me? I always think I'm currently doing my best writing lol so I'll say drarry

15) What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I don't post fics unless theyre finished, so I don't have any WIP up on AO3, but I did intend to continue with my fem Sherlock Holmes series, Your Many Tendencies. I just haven't been in a Holmes mood for a long time. Maybe I'll come back to it idk. This particular series is honestly very unpopular? People will just straight up say they don't read femslash, and it hurts a lot. This series feels really personal too, bc it's about a Black autistic nonbinary lesbian, so it does hurt my feelings that no one seems to care, yknow? I mean the people who read it are extremely kind and thoughtful in their engagement with it, but it has vastly less engagement than my m/m fic, and that's painful. It gets literally 1/10 the attention my fics usually get.

16) What are your writing strengths?

Almost all of my writing is romance, but I tend to write concurrently about recovery and found family, and I think I'm very good at doing that in a way that connects with my audience. I once had someone ask if they could use my words in their wedding vows, and I've had people tell me they started doing things with their spouse that my characters do with their partners in order to express love. I think about that all the time. My Impact. It makes me feel like I have a real duty to my audience yknow?

17) What are your writing weaknesses?

This question is hard for me like I've been writing so long and so much that I'm literally always happy with my final draft! It's always exactly to my taste, yknow? I suppose I could say that my fics tend not to be terribly plotty but so WHAT? That's beside the fuckn point for me. Plot who? I don't know Her. Also honestly like. Stories feel more True to me when they aren't ruthlessly devoted to plot bc like life isn't like that yknow?

18) What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

If you're not fluent in that language, get a beta who is!!!!! That said, I have written scraps of very simple dialogue in French using mostly Google Translate (sometimes I check w Sally bc he speaks French but I am usually too impatient), and I am perfectly well aware that I take my life in my hands each time!!! Also don't do that bullshit thing where it's in italics? That shit is weird and exoticizing. Just write it in quotation marks like normal dialogue.

19) What was the first fandom you wrote for?

BBCS babey back in 2012. Ended a 5 year dry spell for me after I got my writing degree.

20) What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

Hmmmm I think it's probably gonna be the fic I'm working on now that I haven't posted yet, but I know it's called Names for a House, and here's a tiny bit of it

Thanks again Shreya for asking me to do this bc I really love talking about myself. I tag @the-moon-loves-the-sea, @clytemenestras, @tomiano, @gaykagome and @totallysilvergirl

No pressure <3

[beenis98]

undone

uhhh this is a dream fic. it's the same sort of thing as want to be yours on my other acc, but it's from dream's POV.

idk. i dont know if this is good, but i dont think i should post this on my writing acc. whatevs, here!

|

dream stared at the empty space between him and the wall, the pillow next to him painfully cold. the last time he had checked his clock it was 3:35 am, the late hour one he was accustomed to seeing. he wasn’t tired. drained, if anything.

he had spent the last few weeks staying up until he physically couldn’t keep his eyes open, and yet, he remained unbothered. his nights that should have been filled with rest and peace were replaced with longing and desperation, millions of thoughts of the same thing — person — running through his mind.

you. you took over him in ways he couldn’t explain, in ways he didn’t want to explain. the words that would slip his mouth if he ever tried to explain his feelings terrified him. dream’s lips were sewed shut and he didn’t dare to try and rip the stitches he placed himself.

with a groan, he grabbed his phone, needing a distraction from himself. he squinted at the bright light, putting in his passcode from muscle memory. he stared at the screen and hesitated before clicking on his messages. he cleared a few notifications before hovering over your name.

he chewed his bottom lip. you were more than likely asleep, at least, he hoped you were. you had a habit of not taking care of yourself.

he pressed down on your name, scrolling up to read all previous messages. every last word was like water, the only thing making his smile grow and stay. even if he was tumbling down what felt like an endless pit of despair, you were there to pull him out without even reaching out your hand. all you could do was give him that sweet smile of yours and he’d be okay.

you had him wrapped around you finger like a puppet, and yet, you didn’t pull a single string. you didn’t know he was so vulnerable to you, completely in your hold, but even if you did you would never dare hurt him. that he knew for a fact.

but you would try to cut the string. free him from your grasp so he could never be manipulated by your hand. that’s what he was avoiding. he wanted you to be the one in control of him, the one that his heart beat for. maybe that was selfish of him.

he shook his head and ran a hand over his face, eyes still trained on his phone.

thumbs pressing on the buttons, the line rung. he knew he shouldn’t. yet he did.

after a few, anxious rings, you picked up.

“hello?” your voice was quiet and rough, but not tired. you were already awake.

“hey.” dream responded weakly.

"what's up?" you asked.

dream smiled to himself, feeling better already at just the sound of your voice. "i just wanted to talk to you," he sighed.

"oh." was all you said. did you not want to? he didn't want to keep you on the line if you wanted to leave.

the call remained silent for one minute, neither of you really knowing what to say. dream knew what he wanted to say, at least, but he didn’t know what he was allowed to.

“did you...” you hesitated. “did you have that dream again?” the concern in your voice made dream’s heart swell. he knew what you were talking about. nightmare would be a better word for it, if he was honest, but that didn’t matter.

the dream. he thought back to it, remembering each devastating detail that made his stomach churn. you only found out about it a week ago and you didn’t forget it, it seemed. a part of him wished you did. he didn’t want to worry you.

“no,” he said plainly, not wanting to let you know he didn’t sleep at all. although hypocritical, you would lecture him about taking care of himself. “actually uh...”

"what?" you urged. he had to think of a good response, something that wouldn't give himself away.

"i dreamt of you." stupid. stupid, stupid, stupid.

it was true, though. you were his dream...but why did he have to say that?

“stop.”

“stop what?” he said quickly, heart racing underneath his rib cage. he could feel every pump in his fingertips and it made him sick. “what did i do?”

“stop saying things like that...things you don’t mean—” but he meant it. “you joke around too much. it makes me...”

dream felt lightheaded, closing his eyes as a way to prevent himself from falling off the bed. “what, y/n? it makes you what?”

“want to be yours.” a strange hush punctuated your statement. he was breathless. “i want to be yours.”

the only sound he heard was the wave of his fan; you didn’t elaborate. you didn’t laugh. you were serious. what was he supposed to say? that you already had him? no. that was too much, he realized.

a small, "i'm sorry." interrupted the uncomfortable silence. “goodnight, dream.”

before he could blink, the call ended. he couldn’t breathe, every inhale not enough to fill his lungs. you wanted to be his. he was already yours. all there was left to do was...talk it out. but would that ruin everything? it would change everything he knew, it would bring every night of longing and dreaming into reality...but was he willing to take that next step? were you?

it shouldn't be this complicated.

[elizabethvaughns]

reasons why i absolutely adore the musical if/then and why you should watch it(or a recording) if you haven’t already

this might get a little long. please message me or something if you’d rather have a properly punctuated and spaced out version for whatever reason. i don’t want to inconvenience anyone. 

ah yes the essay(kinda sorta not really) that absolutely no one has been waiting for which i used to get over my boredom in french and physics class. fun :)

alright people it’s if/then ramble time. again it’s a little long(i think it may be longer than essays i’ve written for school) so uhh it’s under the cut. 

all righty let’s get started

1. the humor. while one or two jokes might be, well, to put it lightly, dated(like liz’s vaguely biphobic comment), they are, all in all, good jokes! some of my favorites include

“i’m a fucking great kindergarten teacher” “do you use language like that in class?” “only when it’s called for.”

“i don’t think it was fate so much as it was you”

and this is just from the first song! there are so, so many more. 

2. the characters. i think it’s safe to say that to some degree, i can relate to most of them. more on that later. but even so, the most important thing is that they’re grounded in reality. each of them have virtues, shortcomings, biases, etc, etc. and it’s understandable and relatable because it’s human! i’ve noticed at times that characters end up being caricatures of a particular demographic. this is not the case here, and i’m, frankly, thankful for it. 

3. the score. okay okay okay. it is absolutely amazing and beautiful and i’m here for it. the vocals? chef’s kiss. the music? chef’s kiss. the motifs? CHEF’S KISS. i love it when specific parts of the song, such as the music or just some lyrics get reprised to a different song. it just gives a sense of congruence and continuity to the whole thing. bonus points when it breaks my heart(like how the opening notes of “here i go” and the closing notes of “i hate you” sound eerily similar increasing the emotional impact). 

3a. side note: as amazing as the songs are, i do need to admit that they truly show their magic when you properly know their context. allow me to explain. so before listening to any musical, i read the wikipedia synopsis so that (a) i have some amount of context before listening, and (b) i don’t get hit as hard emotionally when i finally end up listening to the soundtrack(now obviously that’s not the case--my eyes began to water during “unlikely lovers” of falsettos and “i hate you” of if/then during my watch throughs, for instance). well, i’m getting a bit off-track here. but anyways, i’m certain that people have expressed this before, but the wikipedia synopsis of if/then gave me absolutely zero useful context for listening to the songs. i was so confused half of the time! based on the synopsis, i thought that all songs following “what if?” (except for “surprise”, of course, which signified an intersection of timelines) were either exclusively liz songs or exclusively beth songs. for example: the songs that i thought were exclusively in the beth timeline include, “a map of new york”, “ain’t no man manhattan”(i explained my confusion in the tags of one of my reblogs this is already getting really long sorry), and “what the fuck?”; moreover, i thought “you learn to live without” was exclusively a liz song. also there’s a lot of dialogue in between stanzas of the song that’s not in the cast recording. so i guess what i’m saying is that if you have not watched/listened to it yet, watch first, listen later. don’t make the same mistake i made. 

3b. another side note: this is absolutely not relevant but i came across a recording of the dc version over spring break and i watched it and can i just say <3 <3 <3. i can certainly see how it was improved over the years but i still love both versions equally :). also anne in her pantsuit in “this day” could step on me and i could thank her. my disaster bi ass goes brrr.

4. the lighting. pretty self-explanatory. i love how the lighting distinguishes between the timelines. also the “happy birthday elizabeth” banner that lights up different letters according to the timeline. beautiful. 

5. the choreography. maybe i haven’t been looking in the right places but i haven’t seen much appreciation for this but...yeah. i’m in love with the choreography of this show! i don’t know why. it just strikes a chord with me. especially the scene near the end of “this day”. it’s so cute!

6. the representation! now this has most definitely been mentioned before by other folks, but i feel a need to highlight it as well. i guess this actually ties into my second point about the characters. it goes to prove how society is not homogeneous however it may appear to be. lovely. 

7. and most of all, the ending. my absolute favorite part about the ending is the fact that it is somewhat ambiguous(i guess that’d be the best way to put it). there’s hope, especially in the beth timeline. i love how both timelines essentially cycle back to the beginning( “here’s how it starts / and here’s how it ends”) and “switches” the roles for both of them--liz gets the job while beth finds love. while i’m not a big fan of the job/love dichotomy, i do know that one can’t get it all all at once. so i’m glad that their arcs concluded with the beginning of the other’s arc. moreover, i love that liz/beth isn’t stuck in the what if’s and what not anymore and is, overall, more decisive. we love character development! and...about the ambiguity of the ending. i think this is one ending that i am happy about and that’s certainly saying something. i mean, the main reason for canon divergence fics is the fact that (a) someone’s character arc was severely messed up, or (b) someone died. well, yes, josh technically died but he is alive in the beth timeline, so that counts for something! and i don’t really feel the need to read any canon divergence fics(not considering the fact that they don’t exist! people please the fan fiction potential for this fandom is IMMENSE). so i guess what i have to say is i’m satisfied with the ending, a thing i can’t honestly say for many of the fandoms i’m in(...not gonna elaborate on that). 

idk if i missed anything but i think that’s it.

[holyfuckthisfishcandrive]

@meepishme deceided the first one who’s backstory I should elaborate on (in the pirate au) is Virgil! @alias290 idk if you still wanna be tagged in this stuff just let me know if not

(I’m doing this in fic form (which is why this too so long, sorry) it’s jumping a bit in the timeline (only after the deathday) All in all I’m not sure how happy I’m with the end result but whatever.)

Also the other four crew members are half other characters belonging to Thomas Sanders with two minor OCs sprinkled in.

Word count: 2340 (not betaed)

Warnings: abandonment, memory issues (not really but issues with forgetting shit), abusive parents (no violence in fic, but mention of parent wanting their kid dead)

Virgil leaned on the wood of the railing, his post in the crowsnest long abandoned.

It had been five days since they had spotted this island and discovered that once the low tide set in the Eye of God was stranded on the beach, free to leave as soon as the high tide came back.

It had been four days since Remus, Roman, Nija, Kai and Elliott had gone to scout the island.

It had been two days since Logan had gotten so restless he couldn’t wait anymore and had gone out to search for them together with Janus, Patton and Muk, leaving Virgil behind with those so familiar words.

“Keep watch over the ship, okay?”

Just that Logan always followed it up with “I’ll be back soon.”

He did it since he’d gone to pull the last lever and Virgil had broken down. They all made sure to promise that they’d be back since then. That they wouldn’t abandon the ship and him with her.

Logan didn’t really have to say it with the request.

Virgil would agree anyway.

He always watched over the ship.

He had to.

But it had been two days since they’d left.

The island wasn’t that big.

At least the first group should be back by now.

Unless something bad had happened to them.

Virgil anxiously glanced to the horizon, where the sun was steadily moving closer to the sea.

Soon it would be six and three days.

“I should do something...”

Nobody answered.

“But I need to watch the ship... I could take the ship with me. It would be hard on my own but I could do it. But then I’d have to...”

His gaze wandered towards the steering wheel and he swallowed past the forming clump in his throat.

“No...”

Virgil sunk down until his head rested on his arms.

“Sundown,” he decided. “I’ll wait till sundown. Then I’ll go look.”

He looked down at the sand.

“If I can.”

The twins both like to wonder what he was. They never listened when he said human, but they did listen when they asked if he could leave the ship and he didn’t answer. They’d listened and taken it as a no.

But it wasn’t.

It was an “I don’t know.” An “It’s been so long since i tried that I can barely remember.”

Maybe Remus was right. Maybe he was a ghost tied to the ship and he had just never noticed that he’d died.

What would happen then if he tried to leave? Would he just disappear?

The thought scared him.

But the thought of losing yet another crew was scarier. Because how long would it take this time before their faces became too blurry to recall? How long until he didn’t know their names anymore or couldn’t be sure if they’d been part of this crew or one of the others?

He sighed.

About an hour later the last rays of sunlight barely tinted the horizon orange, lingering even though the sun was already gone.

Carefully Virgil climbed down the strick ladder. Inches above the ground he stopped.

Just underneath his foot was the sand.

He bit his lip and stared down at it.

Taking a deep breath he scrunched his eyes shut and lowered himself to the ground.

The sand was soft and shifted under his bare feet. Virgil curled his toes into it and opened his eyes again.

Slowly he let go of the ladder and took a step back.

A mix of anxiety and exitement swirled in his stomach.

He could leave. He wasn’t a ghost. That was good, very good, because that meant that he could find the others and be back before anything happened to the ship.

“I’ll be right back,” he told her. Then he turned and ran towards the forest.

The rough ground, sticks and stones felt strange but at the same time brought back echos of memories he’d long forgotten.

At another time he might’ve stopped and chased these echos, but right now he had to find his crew, before they became nothing but an echo as well.

It took him less than an hour to find a building hidden between the trees.

Well, that was an explanation at least.

Virgil snuck downhill to the gate and looked around uneasy. He didn’t like this place and the longer he was away from the ship the more he felt like it was a bad idea to leave at all.

-_-_-_-_-

Janus cursed and let the lock fall back against the metal bars.

“I can’t open it,” he muttered, stuffing the toothpick back in his pocket. He muttered something about “If I had an actual lockpick-” but no one was listening anymore.

Logan sighed.

“Great. So we’re stuck here,” he rubbed his temples. “I fucking hate cults.”

“If they at least wanted us for our bodies,” Remus spoke up, sounding genuinely disappointed. “But nooo... We’re just human sacrifices. I’m too hot to die.”

“Bitch, you’re gross,” Roman elbowed him in the ribs. “I’m the hot one.”

“Guys, we’re about to be killed, can you argue about who’s better looking some other time?” Nija groaned. “Besides, I’m obviously hotter.”

The door to the hallway opened and Logan tensed.

A guard fell to the ground with a chatter.

“What the-?”

A small figure slipped inside.

“Virgil?” Logan stepped up to the cell bars.

“You can leave the ship?” Janus raised an eyebrow. “That’s new.”

“Are you okay?” Virgil’s voice shook slightly.

“About to become god sacrifice but other than that okay,” Roman smirked. “Can you break the lock?”

“I can try,” Virgil raised his knife and took the lock in hand.

It fell just moments later and the cell door slid open. Nobody listened when Janus muttered that it was easier with a knife.

They only encountered two people on their way out but they didn’t even get the chance to shout before they were knocked out.

Logan let his gaze linger on Virgil.

Even though it had been over ten years he was still a teenager. Maybe a bit older than back when they’d met but barely.

He was shorter than Nija and didn’t even have that awkward lankyness most teens had, as if he hadn’t even reached his growth spurt yet.

Logan heard Remus chuckle behind him which was usuall a bad thing, but before he could react Remus had swooped past him, taken his hat and dumped it on Virgil’s head.

It slid over his eyes and Virgil stumbled before pushing it up slightly.

He shot Remus a confused look and went to take the hat off but Logan stopped him.

“Keep it for now. It suits you.”

-_-_-_-_-

Logan pulled the grip slightly and watched the ship pass though ‚the curtain‘ as Roman had named it. There was something nervwrecking about sailing through the very fabric of reality into another world.

He also had to be ready for any terrain they might end up in and had to be ready to adjust as needed.

„Sky!“ Virgil called and immediatly everyone was moving.

The main mast was split in half into wing like constructions in seconds, far quicker than the first time they‘d flown.

Logan streered them higher until they broke through the clouds and were under the bright morning sky of another world.

„There‘s something starboard!“ Virgil called. „I think it‘s an Island!“

„Can we check it out?“ Patton turned to Logan with a wide smile.

„Sure, why not?“

It didn‘t take long for the island to come into view and Virgil climbed down to lean against the railing.

„How…?“ Logan heard him whisper and he leaned over it, nearly falling. „It is!“

„Do you know this place?“ he asked.

If Virgil heard him he ignored him completely. He dashed over the ship towards the bow.

“The island has a harbour,” Janus called over to Logan. “Should we land?”

He glanced over to Virgil and back to Logan.

“Yes, let’s land.”

“Can I come with you?” Virgil asked as soon as they landed in the harbour. “Please?”

He had left the ship only two times even after the cult island, usually refusing when Patton or anyone else offered to take him on shore.

“Of course,” Logan answered. Virgil still hadn’t answered how he knew this place, but if it was this important to him, Logan couldn’t exactly say no.

While Patton, Janus, Mul and Nija stayed behind, Logan, Virgil and the twins wandered away from the ship, and Logan watched Virgil grow more and more restless, looking for something.

They didn’t meet a single person in the narrow streets of what looked like had once been a rich town. Remus wondered aloud if they’d find corpses anywhere, earning himself a playful smack from Roman.

The sudden sound of footsteps made them stop on a crossroad.

Logan let his hand rest on his cutlass.

“It’s been a while since I’ve had guests around here,” a man’s voice spoke up behind them.

Virgil swirled around in a heart beat.

“Dad!”

He dashed towards the man and tackled him in a hug.

“What?!” Roman blurted out.

The man looked down at Virgil slightly confused. He had a scruffy beard and dark tanned skin. He looked like someone who worked outside in the sunlight a lot.

He reached up to put his hands on Virgil’s shoulders and pushed him off slowly.

“Virgil?” he asked, sounding just as surprised as Roman. “You’re alive?”

“I watched over the ship,” Virgil smiled up at the man. “Just like you told me to!”

But the man didn’t even seem to listen.

“How are you alive?” he asked, louder this time. “I sent you out of this world into time so you could age. You shouldn’t be alive!”

“What do you mean?” Logan could hear the smile slip off Virgil’s face.

“I put you on that ship to die. What are you doing back here?” the man nearly growled this time.

“What-? You said you needed me to watch over her,” Virgil sounded so much more like the kid he was, than Logan had ever heard him.

Following an impulse he stepped forward and put his body between Virgil and the man.

“Who are you?” the man hissed at him.

He was intimidating, sure, but Logan had messed with gods before. He wasn’t afraid of this asshole.

“I am Captain Logan Conley. Who the fuck do you think you are?”

-_-_-_-_- 

Virgil heard Dad answer but he couldn’t really hear what he said. His ears were ringing.

Here on the Island there was no time, he knew that. It was why Dad had taken him elsewhere a lot when he had been little. Just so he would actually age.

But this time Dad had wanted him to stay gone.

He’d sent him away to die.

Suddenly everything was too loud.

The Captain was yelling and Dad was yelling and Dad had lied, he’d lied to him, he’d wanted him dead!

He had to get away.

Virgil ran past the twins, through the familiar paths back to the ship.

Muscle memory wanted him to climb up into the rigging - “You have to watch over the ship, it’s important” - but that was a lie too, wasn’t it?

“Hey, kid-” he barely heard Patton as he rushed past and down into the ship’s hold.

Down in the cargo bay he curled up, hiding behind a crate.

For a while he was alone. Long enough for him to catch his breath and stop crying at least.

Then he heard footsteps.

“Can we sit down by your side?” Remus asked, his voice softer than usual.

Virgil glanced up.

The twins stood a few feet away, waiting for an answer.

He nodded.

Remus sat down to his left, Roman to his right.

“Hey, kid,” Roman said.

“Hey,” Virgil’s voice sounded brittle even to his own ears.

“So, this is where you’re from,” Roman nodded. “It’s a nice Island... How long did you live here?”

Virgil shrugged.

“There’s no time here,” he said even though he was pretty sure they had gathered that much by now. “Physically,” he added after a moment of thought,” I think I was... six?”

His voice wobbled on the last word as more tears threatened to spill.

Remus sighed.

“You know, family is pretty complicated sometimes,” he spoke up. “You always think, and people tell you, that family is your blood and the people you grow up with. Like your dad for you, my father and mother, so on and so fourth. But... That’s bullshit. It’s absolute crap. Family has nothing to do with blood.”

Virgil glanced up at him again.

“But you and Roman are brothers. You’re blood. You’re family.”

“We are,” Roman nodded. “But we’re family that just so happens to also be blood.”

Virgil frowned.

“I don’t get what you mean.”

“Family are the people you choose. The people you feel safe around, who you trust and who just... feel like home,” Remus tried to explain. “I know this sounds cliche but I don’t know how else to put it.”

“What we’re trying to say is... It’s hard when the people who you thought were supposed to love you don’t and you don’t know why, but it’s not your fault. And it doesn’t mean you’re alone. There are people who will love you,” Roman put an arm over Virgil’s shoulder. Lightly enough that Virgil could easily shake it off if he wanted to.

He didn’t.

“If you want us to, we could be your family,” Remus suggested.

“I-” Virgil’s breath hitched. “I’d like that.”

“Come here,” he could hear Roman smile and the next thing he knew he was being hugged from both sides.

He couldn’t stop himself from crying again.

“Don’t tell him I said this,” Remus spoke up again after a while,” but I’m pretty sure the Captain thinks of you as his son.”

“Patton definitely does,” Roman nodded.

“Patton thinks we’re all his kids,” Virgil managed between sobs.

“And honestly, I think we are.”

[rupertgayesarchive]

surgery anon again and YEA I remember all my questions. the big ones were... who sent him back. i was like hm cas died b4 Chuck died. Chuck possibly sent him back to save himself? OH ALSO did death send cas back to save himself (herself? is billie dead. the death sent him back theory is sponsored by a line in chapter 25 where dean is thinking about sending sam a postcard and an old man is staring at him being like send ur brother a post card before it’s too late. racked my brain for who r old men in supernatural who could do time travel and would be not evil but not making things easy either. and my sister was like ‘oh well death’) ALSO i went in for a long while about what cas would do when he got his memories back. i remember being like the fic is INSANELY in character so we should draw our conclusions from what already exists in canon, like 7.17. so cas would probably start worrying immediately about if they ended up defeating Chuck and probably assume that Chuck sent him back. also he’d probably worry that he like.. took advantage of dean or something because he’s insane. and then I was like he’d probably want to know if Chuck, assumed to be the one who sent him back, was in like current timeline heaven. also at this point my sister began giving input as well she became my sounding board lmaooo. we were like well he wouldn’t be able to go to heaven probably so he’d need to ask an angel.

also I was very jntersted in this because cas having positive relationships with some of his siblings is... very nice to see and the most underutilized part of spn. so I was like he’d probably wanna call or summon an angel to talk. but also a ton of angels that he personally killed would be alive again and I think he’d feel really guilty/overwhelmed so he wouldn’t wanna trap any of them? so I was trying to list off all the angels that cas canonically was friends with or implied to be close to prior to Lazarus Rising. and my list was like... ok samandriel, hester, balthazar. a bunch of others who im forgetting right now. but then my sister was like wouldn’t naomi simply have lobotomized them. and I was like oh true!! well... balthazar faked his own death prior to season 6. and he and cas were canonically very good friends before balthazar went to earth. BUT, balthazar stated that cas rebelling was the final reason that he decided to fake his death. BUT ALSO... I feel like.. the timeline works out like 2008 cas pulls dean out of hell. 2009-10 he rebels against heaven. there’s like a few months period where Balthazar could have faked his death and then around a year to fully embrace hedonism. so I feel like... even before cas rebelled he would’ve been like shirking his duties or something in an Aziraphale good omens type beat. this also accounts for naomi not paying attention to him. SO LIKE... also this is just an elaborate explanation for why balthazar, who I love, should be in ur fic. but I think for these reasons it makes sense that future cas, with this knowledge, would summon balthazar for help? questions? idk, I just liked cas having an angel who was friendly with him and he trusted. i mean your fic has given cas so many friends and I love it I’d be fine if you didn’t introduce any new characters at all! i just thought it’d be interesting to see and also be a good way to introduce like you know.., broader angels i suppose. if the time travel shenanigans are sticking to the s1-2 timeline angels couldn’t be super heavily involved, unless cas butterfly effect-ed it (which is mad interesting) anyway I think cas would be panicked about the future and last and would wanna ask about the state of heaven, if Chuck was there in the current timeline. and I think it’d make the most sense and least disturbance that he summon balthazar. because they were friends and also I don’t think balthazar would like.. tell anybody.

im literally SO sorry this is so long and I’m like hm. maybe i should send a second ask with more thoughts. anyways i hope you’re having a good night im feeling better already :)

i’m loving the ask box essays, truly we’ve never been more free when we’re allowed unlimited characters in our messages to other tumblr accounts.

i guess i shouldn’t be surprised that people wonder how cas got sent back, like that was one of the first things i knew about this fic, the who did it part, but in my mind it didn’t really matter/isn’t as interesting as what happens BECAUSE he’s sent back (you will get an answer to the ‘who’ btw. eventually. there are some hints in my fic as well as what some people have commented and things that are in my heard from your mother au tag on here...)

when cas gets his memories back, there are several things happening at once, so he may need to put his 12 years of trauma on the backburner for a bit lol.

angels will appear to some extent as well. i think it’s interesting that despite some of the higher-ups making remarks that cas has a ‘crack in his chassis’ and had to keep getting mind wiped, quite a few other angels seemed to like and respect him, at least earlier on in the show. he had enough, idk, charisma? to lead angel armies. more than once, too! that, combined with the fact that other angels besides him need to get sent to naomi imply (even if spn didn’t really do much w it bc, you know,) that a decent amount of angels may be more into humanity and free will than we’d think. i’m sure we don’t see so many of them later on bc, you know, most of them are dead, but at this point in the show? who’s to say. cas spends enough time reading about class consciousness that he starts an angel union against lobotomies lmao. they can’t take ‘em all, right?

i also think cas needs to end my fic by having twenty hand made friendship bracelets worn on both wrists at all times and ppl constantly blowing up his phone bc he’s that guy!! :) 

[meteor-sword]

i remember in the tags of a post was something about a mako recovery fic... care to elaborate vae??? (if u want ofc) bc im very curious now and i think it would be great coming from you. im also of the opinion that they could’ve done so much more with mako’s recovery but tbh thats just a constant in tlok’s writing

dsfljsldfj ok first of all.... you are so sweet thank you for overestimating me 

second of all i am always surprised to hear people read what i put on this site even if it’s a text post of mine getting many notes so im shook you read my tags and remembered? 

but for actually elaborating: i think this is the post which also i love you for thinking about this for 2 weeks apparently? 

anyway injury discussion warning but, lightning strikes can cause spiral fractures in long bones, dislocations, nervous issues, heart damage i believe? and clearly scarring on the skin, etc. some people after the finale were apparently disappointed they didn’t end up killing mako-- something about completing his arc and being more interesting for korra and asami to come back and realize that happened, and for bolin to have to deal with that, but honestly that would’ve been... too depressing. i think if they would’ve shown the krew dealing with his recovery it would’ve been better than either what we got or mako dying 

i think one of the worst things when you’re waiting for someone to recover is when they do gain consciousness, but you’re not sure if they recognize you or not. i imagine this from bolin’s perspective, after dragging mako out of the mecha, delirious, hooked up to medical equipment bolin might never have seen before (the doctor or nurse explains bender-originated lightning strikes are usually short exposure, similar to natural strikes from the occasional bender fight or malfunction at the electrical factories, but this is different. they really dont know what might happen) 

korra and asami come when they can, and bolin has to explain to everyone what mako did. opal stays by bolin’s side but this kind of stress is not like anything mako let him be exposed to before (up till bolin serves under kuvira and has to escape that) so i think bolin is stressed and tired and probably a little mean about it 

idk who would be there but bolin and maybe opal, maybe asami are there when mako wakes up for the first time, but he’s intubated and can’t speak, and he doesn’t seem to recognize them. bolin tries encourage him to squeeze his hand, but there’s no reaction. the nurses come, and the visitors are ushered out. i know next to nothing about medical procedures or anything but i’m sure there’s tests and things for nerve/muscle/skin/bone damage they’d need to attend to once he’s conscious on some level ??? 

mako is in and out for the next week or two-- bolin by his side whenever he could be, and asking mako if he recognized people as they came to visit. wu comes at some point and makes sure mako and bolin and their family will be taken care of-- even if mako doesn’t recover well. No more having to rely on asami or anyone else. bolin absolutely snaps at him before wu has the chance to explain but he cuts the check nonetheless (as wu should tyvm) 

as soon as mako is coherent though he’s playing like there’s nothing wrong and bolin has nothing to worry about and bolin knows it’s not true, but it’s so easy to just believe mako like always. except mako really needs assistance and probably has to live with bolin or someone, but mako is always pushing to go back to work. i don’t think he’d be able to work until around the time of zhu li and varrick’s wedding? 

i think with all the efforts to fix republic city, and stabilize the earth kingdom, it would be difficult to balance everyone’s greater responsibilities with helping mako but really showing that struggle and how everyone reacts to mako’s near death experience would. be interesting. idk i’m really bad at concluding these things lately but yeah <3 

[longitud-de-onda]

hello! could you do headcanons for javi and reader where they were fake dating (maybe being undercover or something idk it's up to you!) turned real dating 😊

so first of all, @themandjalorian is already writing a fic very much like this, its very good and you should totally check it out here 

i wrote out a bit of an undercover thing then i wasn’t feeling it, and i remembered the only fanfic i wrote in high school, which was this adorable fake dating thing i never published and it was based on some prompt about a character having been telling their grandparents about this s/o and them actually just being the neighbor, but then the grandparents come visit and want to meet the s/o so i’m going with something similar to that since it was kind of cute. idk how pleased I am with the final product... but it’s cute. 

You had gotten so fed up with your parents asking you if you were dating anyone during your weekly phone calls that one day you burst and said it

“Okay! I’m dating someone! Is that what you wanted to hear? His name’s… Javier”

They were thrilled for you. Their calls started ending with “how’s it going with Javier” and they expected a little tidbit every time. About Javier. Your neighbor with whom you had only shared about 10 words with.

You had a crush on him, admittedly. It was easy to fall for that charming smile you saw strutting around the embassy. And yeah, you lived in the same building, and both worked at the embassy (in very different departments) but that didn’t mean you had a chance to talk with him.

The real danger of describing the fantasy of your relationship with Javier was that as your parents began to believe it, so did you. You saw him in the hallways and your brain was flooded with thoughts of your fantastical relationship.

But you never managed to work up the guts to even say hello to him.

That is, until your parents give you a call saying they’re coming down for two weeks to visit and they want to meet Javier, how about taking the two of you out to dinner the first night? 

And you agree before realizing how bad of an idea it is.

In your panic you go running to Javier’s door because he has to agree or you’re going to have an awkward conversation with your parents.

You practically bang down his door and when he opens it, standing there, one arm on the door, hip popped out, you freeze, speechless.

“What can I do for you?”

“Um…” 

It takes a very long pause for you to squeak out, “I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend.”

He laughs. “Did Steve put you up to this?”

You flush. This was awful. He was laughing in your face.

“No, I—this was stupid I’m sorry. I should have known. You don’t know me at all, and— you know what? Can we just forget this ever happened?”

But when he sees you retreating, looking completely shot down, he feels a little pang of guilt.

“Wait! ...You were being serious? Do you want to come in? Have a drink?”

Your heart soars. He just invited you into his apartment? Of course you say yes.

The story spills out over a glass of whiskey. When you get to the end, carefully replacing the part where you chose his name because of your massive crush with some half-assed lie about how you had seen him in the hallway the day you started the lie and he was the first face that crossed your mind, Javier sits for a good two minutes, the silence almost killing you. 

“Sounds like fun. I’ll do it. ”

Which is not the response you were expecting but you’re grateful and jumping right into giving him all the background information on your pretend relationship and your parents and Javier is just sitting back, smiling and taking it all in.

After an hour you’re both on your second glasses of whiskey and feeling a bit like you had known each other for more than the short time you had actually spoken.

You go home, smiling to yourself, because if you were being perfectly honest the whole thing felt a bit like a date and you had fallen for him a bit more.

You are fucked.

The day your parents arrive comes way too quickly and before you know it you’re sitting at a fancy restaurant, Javier at your side, and he’s lying his ass off about how you two met and you’re utterly confused as to where this Javier came from.

Where was the Javier who slept with another woman every night? The Javier who drank whiskey alone on a work night? The Javier who knew every prostitute in town? The Javier who any parent would hate to have their daughter date? 

This was an entirely different man, one who was inventing a relationship you could only dream of being part of.

The little moments when he touches your arm and smiles so reassuringly, they feel so real.

You thought this would be a good idea and now your stomach is churning at the elaborate lie you’ve woven for your parents, and the one you’ve woven for yourself.

Javi wasn’t in love with you. He hardly even knew you. And he definitely didn’t mean a single word he was saying nor action he was doing.

And it was so much worse as the week went on. 

Your parents asked why you weren’t living together, which was embarrassing enough a question on its own, but only made worse by Javier’s immediate reaction of disgust before covering it up with a cough and an excuse about wanting to take it slow. 

And one night Javier had warned you he had to leave a dinner at your apartment early, and the way he shuffled a bit and didn’t explain why was enough of a clue that he had an informant to meet. 

It was so much worse when he kissed you before leaving. On the lips. Long and much more intimate than you were expecting.

You realize halfway through your parents visit that your feelings had somehow escalated as you got to know Javier more.

You no longer had a little crush on the man. 

You had fallen in love because you had fallen for a lie.

At that point things begin to change. Your gazes become a little bit more real, and your touches linger a little bit longer. 

The day arrives that your parents are leaving and Javier joins you in driving them to the airport. 

His hand is around your waist as you wave the two goodbye. As they disappear into the crowds of the international departures, you don’t know when to let go.

Javi is the first to drop his hand. And the ghost of his touch burns on your side a bit more than it should.

The drive home is silent. It’s not until you get back to the apartment building that you say something.

“What was in it for you?”

He’s silent and you realize how rude that sounds.

“I’m sorry, I just meant—Thank you. Javier. You saved my ass.”

He gets out of the car and you follow him up the stairs. He turns to enter his apartment and you continue on, but he calls your name.

“I did it because it was nice to pretend things were normal for a bit. Working for the DEA, we don’t get nice things like that.”

And as much as it hurts to know it wasn’t about you at all, it hurts more that Javier feels that way. You had learnt enough about him and his work in the past weeks that you know how much of a commitment it is. You just didn’t know how much it took away from someone’s life.

The real pain comes that night when you hear the loud sounds of Javier fucking someone. The ones everyone in the damn complex are familiar with. The ones that feel like a bucket of ice water was dumped on your head, reminding you how not Javier’s you are.

It’s not until work the next week when Javier walks by your desk and catches sight of how dejected you look. It’s not unlike his own appearance, if you were being perfectly honest.

That night you get a knock on the door. You open to Javier who’s got a six-pack of beer.

“I don’t know why you look like you’ve been trampled over but I haven’t had the greatest week ever and honestly you’re the only person I’ve enjoyed spending time with in the past two months so I thought we could maybe cheer each other up?”

You’re so surprised that you step aside, forgetting momentarily that he’s the reason you look like crap.

Three hours later you’ve moved onto some strong liquors, and are tumbling over one another, laughing and telling stories and talking like you’ve known each other for years. 

And suddenly his lips are on yours and you’re kissing back.

You don’t remember much the next morning, but Javi and you are both naked in your bed. It’s not too much of a jump to the conclusion that you slept with each other.

He’s already awake, and you begin the process of kicking him out of bed. And out of your apartment.

“I’m sorry, Javi,” you say, pushing him out of the door. You didn’t want to become another number in his long line of women. But somehow last night didn’t feel like he was just using you.

“Wait. Tell me you didn’t want that?”

“What?”

“Am I reading into things wrong? Or is there something here?”

The change in tone gives you pause. Enough to seriously question everything you thought about Javier.

“...did you want that?” you whisper.

“I think I did—”

“You think?”

“No. I know. I know I did.” He’s staring at you now.

“So did I.” You take a step forward, pressing your lips gently against his.