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#its messy bc i did it in a hurry and just went

nikkippy · 2 years

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ever since i saw the new cards i've been thinking about styling and playing around with idia's hair,, , like,

we've seen many cards with like, short, braid. high ponytail, and that one ghost marriage style that i dont know the name

so imagine being so close as friends that he'd let you style his hair however you want because, well, he takes online classes in the tablet so no one's going to see it but if someone sees it he'll just brag about it

(oh yea, you see this beautiful styled pretty soft shinig hair? almost like the hair of one of his favorite idols! that level of professional care there y'know, yeah. oh but dont let him know you heard it or he'll never ever say a word about it, his hair a bright pink)

he loves the feeeling of you going through his hair, just softly brushing and feeling the comfortable heat his hair (and his now red face) radiates

it's nice, and you just take your time so the both of you can enjoy it

but also,, how does he take care of his hair?? its, fire? so can he wash it??? (if this has already been adressed before, i dont read much of the story haha i am too lazy and just, forget to read www sorry)

if he can (somehow) wash it, well, he doesn't look like he'd take good care of it (my stinky little gamer meow meow)

so!! you take matters into your own hands!

there are just some days you agree to wash it and he! loves! it! he'll be playing rhythm games or some other thing on his phone while you're there doing your magic

you'll be like why the hell is your hair so greasy how the fuck does this even works

and he'll be like idk beats me

you'll massage his head and make him take a break for a little bit so he can rest and just, relax, no screeens to look and a nice, soft song going on the background as white noise

after a few hours of pure bliss you're done and his hair is glowing! soft! pretty! with good smell!

(after doing it so many times for him you could open your own hair salon, you're a pro already ww)

little extra being you styling his hair in a way that doesn't get in his way when he plays a game, like, you style his bangs so it doesn't get in his eyes (i know nothing abt hair, even less in english forgive me)

half up do or in a messy bun would be so pretty,, but also pigtails,, , nice

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neonstatic · 10 months

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i woke up from a strange dream today.

tw: death, animal death, blood, weird dream shit

in the dream, i discovered "vermin" in the apartment. the first was a snake i killed by snapping its neck w tongs, and i placed it in a laundry bin to gather blood while i found a cleaner way to dispose of it. i was in a hurry bc my mom had just told me that we had family coming. in my search for a trash bag, i found some sort of gerbil in a pantry (?) and i killed it too. but since this kill was less messy, i shoved the dead gerbil in a corner and continued on my search for a trash bag.

since i was taking too much time to prepare for the guests and my mom and sister were getting on my case, i revealed to them that i'd found vermins and i needed help getting rid of the bodies. corpses, i call them. to which my mom argued that i can't tell that they're corpses if i've never seen them alive. and that left me frozen for a bit cus like, i most definitely saw them alive. (and that gave me a sudden flashback to previous dreams i've had this week that i'd forgotten til now: i'd be home on a regular day off and see bodies around me and my mom would keep arguing w me that not every limp body i see is dead or a corpse.) i snapped out of it w my sister saying that i certainly knew what i was talking about and to stop questioning my knowledge.

neither decided to help me tho. which pissed me off bc i killed the creatures for them? cus otherwise they'd freak out and i'm the only one qualified for the job in this household. i'm the protector. even tho i was scared i did it anyway and they dared to act like the killing was nothing for me? anyway, i got over the anger and went looking again for a bag when i saw in my bedroom that someone was there. it was a cousin i haven't seen in yrs and he looked just like that one picture of him we have in the living room, where he looks young and clean and dapper in a suit, but this time he was facing away from me, and wouldn't turn around no matter how long i stared at his back.

so i went back out of the bedroom and told my sister abt what i saw, to check if i was hallucinating or not. she told me he'd been there for a while, wtv that means. i didn't respond and instead went to dispose of the snake bc i could see in my mind's eye that the blood pool was growing. i put it in a small bag i found but had trouble tying it up, and got blood on my fingers but wasn't as grossed out as i thought i should. then when i stood up to take care of the gerbil, i heard the guests being let in at the front door and i woke up.

so i guess my question is: wtf. what the fuck??? what???? tu peux pas dire que c'est un cadavre si tu l'as jamais vu en vie? quoi? huh???

#ray says #am i good?????#this is as much of a resume as i can make. i made it a lot more detailed in my journal #i can't stress enough how strange seeing my cousin from the back was. looking like that dated pic of him.

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dr3amofagame · 3 years

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Dream thought that he can bring server together, he thought that they can be one big family... Well at least he really bond them, even if they bonded to fight against him. Even if that mean he's not part of this server anymore.

right,, the one big happy family thing always destroys me

bc it’s really the driving force behind everything he’s done, the reason why he’s cut off everything he’s ever loved, moved forwards despite everything he’s ever lost. it doesn’t make what he does right, by any means, but c!dream’s longing for a better past, his clinging to a family he loved and lost - it’s so desperately, painfully human and is very much the cherry on top of his whole tragic story. it’s something that tugs at my heart every time i think about it - especially how in the end, pretty much nobody knew what drove him to the lengths he went to, and how everyone still sees him as being motiveless, or doing it all for personal gain and power. it’s reasonable, with their limited povs, but oh man does it hurt when we know his real reasoning.

this,, ended up weirdly long haha but oh man was it fun. have some dream team angst as i cry abt c!dream for the millionth time

tws: death, grief, off-screen murder, implied mental deterioration

Two weeks after Dream dies, Sapnap asks George if he wants to come to the vault.

He almost says no. It’d be an early journey if they want to get out without anyone seeing, and he’s just- tired. He’s been tired for months even though he spends most of his time sleeping, usually can’t even find the energy to pull himself out of bed. The weird dreams hadn’t helped in the slightest, though they’ve been gone for a few weeks, and he’s not seen XD in a long time, save for a few minutes after he first heard the news. In all honesty, he doesn’t want to deal with the mental strain of anything to do with Dream at all.

But- Sapnap is still his best friend, even if they’ve grown apart ever since that fateful night with Dream, and he still knows the Netherborn better than nearly- well, everyone, now, with Dream gone. As much as Sapnap tried to put on a strong front, Dream’s death had taken its toll.

Killing Dream had taken its toll.

He’d been asleep (again) when it all went down, but he knows that somehow, Dream had escaped prison. Somehow, it ended with Sapnap’s sword stabbed hilt-deep in Dream’s chest, an unmarked grave in the forest behind the Community House that he knows Sapnap visits when he thinks nobody’s watching.

So when Sapnap asks, dark bags under his red-rimmed eyes, if he wants to come with him to see what belongings they can find in Dream’s old blackstone-brick vault- he says yes.

“There,” Sapnap gestures over the crest of a netherrack cliff above a bubbling lava lake, and George strains to look at what the other is pointing at. There, settled over a small outcrop of netherrack and gravel, a messy bridge of various blocks leading from it, lies the signature black and purple silhouette of a nether portal. “It’s just across that.”

George hums in acknowledgement, and they clamber down in sync. It’s been a while since he’s spent time one-on-one with Sapnap like this; George had half-forgotten what it feels like, to work with someone so different and yet know them so well. Years and years of teamwork means they fall in step almost without thinking, Sapnap easily sliding forward to block a skeleton’s arrow while George nocks one of his own to shoot it through the skull. It is a partnership built on years of bickering and banter and deep-set trust, of having to face a stronger, more agile opponent together through wind and rain and snow.

He missed it, though he’ll never admit that to anyone but himself.

He hesitates in front of the nether portal, pulling Sapnap back automatically by his sweater sleeve. “You sure the other side is safe?”

“Yeah, yeah- it should be,” Sapnap pulls his arm away, lets him enter the portal first before stepping into the frame himself. “Not a manhunt.”

“Mm,” George laughs, tired. “Just checking.”

The portal hums, purple creeping into the corners of George’s vision and filling it until it’s all he can see, and he rubs at his eyes to clear his vision as he stumbles out the other side. Sapnap walks out, seeming unfazed - it’s always been something that George has envied in the other, how unaffected he is by portals, but he’s also always had worse portal sickness than most- “We’re here.”

The place is - put lightly, a wreck, wooden planks scattered all over the floor and inch-deep water sloshing around his shoes. “What’s with the water?”

“I don’t know, someone must’ve come here after for something,” Sapnap frowns, points across the room to a chute leading upwards, filled with a crude spiral staircase of oak. “We’re going up there.”

George nods, letting him take the lead. The staircase is rickety, the bottom steps waterlogged; Sapnap grimaces the whole way up, makes some comment under his breath about how unsafe it all is, but they continue without much issue. The top of it is surprisingly unassuming - there’s really nothing around, just a small hollowed out space carpeted by savannah grass, shorn short. Sapnap tosses him a pickaxe.

“He respawned up here, that day - he’s gotta have a bed up here somewhere.” He gestures at the plain stone walls surrounding them, “My guess is that it’s just behind one of these walls. Just mine two or three blocks in all the way across, I’ll start from this side.”

“Whatever, Snapnap,” George takes the pickaxe anyway, walking over to the other side of the room and ignoring the protests Sapnap throws at his back. Mining the stone is simple, methodical; it’s a steady rhythm of the pick hitting stone and blocks falling into his inventory; if he closes his eyes, he can almost pretend that they’re in the middle of a manhunt, and Dream has holed himself into the wall as he always does for them to find him. He doesn’t, because thinking about manhunt does nothing but make something cold and choking claw up his throat, almost like guilt, almost like regret, and he doesn’t have the energy for that in the slightest.

His next swing rings oddly hollow, and when the block drops neatly away the wall opens to a narrow corridor. He calls Sapnap over.

“Here.” Sapnap moves with large, heavy strides, face tightening into a foreign expression of grim determination when he catches the darkness behind the one-block hole George mined, “I found it.”

“Well, obviously,” he rolls his eyes as he takes out the bottom block, looking at George from the corner of his eye. “Nice observation, genius.”

“Hey! You told me to find it, and I did, unlike you- you should be thanking me, Sapnap.”

“Whatever, Gogy,” Sapnap sighs, looking into the corridor, feet settling against the ground into a wide stance that George recognizes as the one he’d usually use in a fight. It makes something long-forgotten ache in his chest, joining the dull ball of hurt that has been there for what feels like months, “You ready?”

“Yeah, yeah, hurry up, will you?” The retort rings hollow, dying on his lips even as he says it, and George watches as Sapnap turns his head away and pretends not to notice.

“Let’s go.”

The hallway is dark, dusty, a hastily made thing as shown by the rough gouges made on either side by a quickly working pickaxe. It opens into a tiny room, similarly carved into the mountain with roughhewn walls of stone; George’s lips thin and press against each other as he takes a closer look at the room, stepping in behind Sapnap.

“This place is a mess,” he states drily, scuffing his foot against the floor and cringing at the trail it leaves in the dust. There’s a bed left in the corner, a thin little thing with the covers thrown off, lying halfway on the floor, and a few chests and furnaces scattered aimlessly against the walls and making the whole thing look more cramped. There are papers strewn over the floor and chests, piles of coal and wood left to collect dust in the corners. It looks like a whirlwind swept through the place, and it’s almost eerie to see this room, completely untouched since the twentieth, a snapshot in time of Dream in the middle of his spiral into madness.

Sapnap kicks at one such pile with a humorless scoff, “That’s an understatement.”

“You looking for anything in particular?” George jabs his thumb at the mess in front of them, “Because I’m not cleaning all of that up.”

“I guess- just look through the chests?” Sapnap’s face darkens visibly even despite the dim lighting, and George stifles the urge to poke fun at how the younger clearly didn’t plan this far ahead, per usual. “Just look for anything useful, worth taking back I guess.”

“Mmhm.” He moves to the left-most chest as Sapnap moves to the right, watching from the corner of his eye as the other strikes up a torch to place in the middle of the room. The lid creaks open, and he rummages through the contents, vaguely surprised when his hand meets row after row of glass bottles. He pulls one out, squints at the contents. “Hey Sapnap, is this a regen?”

Sapnap looks over. “Yeah,” he says, rolling his eyes when George pockets it. “Seriously- you know Sam literally has an automatic potion brewer, right. You can just steal from that instead.”

“Or I could just steal from here,” he closes the lid, moving to the next chest. “That’s just his pots chest. He really stacked up, didn’t he?”

“Well, you know Dream. Always had to plan for the end of the world.” Sapnap closes the chest that he was hunched over, tossing over something in a flash of gold, “Was just his food chest. Don’t know why someone needs eight stacks of gapples, but whatever. We can split the god apples later.”

“Sure,” George nods, distracted as he fiddles with clasp of the next chest. This one, unlike the last, seems more worn over the bottom edge of the lid, the wood almost seeming to bear dents where fingers had pressed into the areas right by the clasp again and again. The lid eases open, and he frowns at the chest’s contents; there’s no rhyme or reason to them at first glance. There’s a half-stack of stone in the top left, a couple pieces of leather thrown in the bottom corner, a low-durability crossbow, unenchanted, that he briefly runs his hands over before throwing it back into the chest. He rummages through it for another second, about to dismiss it as a junk chest, when a well-worn book near the back of the chest catches his eye.

He pulls it towards him with careful hands, breath having caught in his throat. The cover is leather, scuffed and scratched in several places, not bearing the dull shine of a book that’s been signed and preserved magically. It doesn’t seem to be titled, no ink against the usual places on the front cover or spine, but the whole thing looks well-loved, the thread of the spine slightly frayed the leather heavily creased from where the cover had been eased open again and again.

He opens the front cover, and sucks in a breath through his teeth.

“Sapnap? I think I found something.”

There, nestled between the front cover and the first page, lays a pile of photographs. Unlike everything else in the room, these are clearly well-loved, well-cared for, the corners are sharp, the surfaces shiny, despite how often they must have been thumbed through and looked at. He plucks the first one off the top of the pile - it’s one that was taken from the inside of the old community house before the floor was replaced with crafting tables, string lights hanging from the ceiling in an impromptu party, Alyssa’s legs dangling from where she’s sitting at the edge of the spiral staircase, Callahan leaning against the wall with a slice of cake held between his hands. Sapnap’s sitting in the middle of the floor across from himself, both of their faces glowing softly in the flickering light - his own face is caught in a grimace, Sapnap bent over himself in laughter- Sapnap walks up behind him, gasps at the sight.

“What are-”

George passes over the photo wordlessly as he moves to the next; there’s Sam, grinning at the camera with a newly tamed Fran by his side, tail a white blur against the green of the grass; Bad, hands clutched around a bucket as he yells at someone off the frame, a salmon head poking slightly out the top; Ponk, sitting proudly in the top branches of his first lemon tree.

His breath catches at the next; it’s dim, the sky a pretty blend of purple-pink from the last remaining dregs of light of a sunset, hovering over the dark edge of the ocean stretching out towards the horizon. They’re sitting in boats, the bottom edges lit softly from the coral sitting in the shallow waters below them, brilliant halos of reds and pinks and yellows and oranges and blues dotted with the soft lights of sea pickles painting the wood in muted rainbows. Sapnap’s smiling from one in the back, head tipped to the side cheekily, right hand lifted in a cocky two-fingered salute. George is sitting in the back of a boat in the foreground, glasses lifted to his forehead, eyes mid-roll even as he grins obligingly at the camera-

And then, in the front, there’s Dream.

His mask is pulled to the side of his face, exposing his freckled skin and brilliant green eyes; he’s smiling widely, all teeth, hair wet and sticking up in a ring of untamed swirls and spikes. His eyes are crinkled at the corners, cheeks red, arm stretched forward off-frame from where he’d held the camera in front of them to take the selfie. George’s thumb brushes over the photo, pressing lightly against the dusty mess of hair framing Dream’s face, pausing at the sight of his pure, unadulterated joy.

What had happened to them?

A soft, choked sound comes from behind him, and George tucks the photos away, pressing them between two random pages in the book. His eyes flicker to the book’s contents, finally, finding Dream’s familiar, looping scrawl written on the first page. The words are big and messy, all capitalized and underlined several times, the last four circled roughly.

REMEMBER WHY YOU’RE DOING THIS: ONE BIG HAPPY FAMILY.

He snaps the book shut.

“George-”

“Let’s go home, Sapnap.” He throws one last look at the room, at the messy, desperate edges, the remnants of a man lost in his own reckless belief that he could build something beautiful out of blood and ash. He swallows, blinks back the image of a brilliant smile, freckled cheeks ruddy with laughter, at the golden glow of memories long-forgotten that threaten now to burn him with their warmth. He can imagine Dream, settled in the middle of this mess, pressing himself closer to the fire contained in these photographs, these memories, and not realizing how he’s being burned, can nearly see a ghost of him tucked in these shadowed corners, haunting the hopes that he had clung to against all reason with the promise that it could all be worth it.

Sapnap frowns at him tiredly, photos pressed against his own chest. “George,” he says, cautious, and George’s shoulders hunch defensively.

“Let’s go home,” he stands up, hearing more than seeing as Sapnap does the same. “Whatever closure you’re looking for- you’re not finding it here.”

#tw death #tw grief #tw murder #tw mental deterioration #queue <3 #long post #my writing :D #my asks !!

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rat-father · 3 years

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Started Melon's recovery ark bc I'm weak <3

Tagging; @octopus-reactivated @writerat

-- tw;; pet whump, multiple whumpees, adoption/human trafficking, reluctant whumper turned caretaker, dehumanisation, conditioned whumpee --

Ted pushed his hair backwards nervously, walking past the tiny rooms holding pets in them, ready to be adopted. The place seemed less dingy then the last shelter he'd been to, but thats about all it had going for it. He didn't expect anything else, places where they sold pets always made him uncomfortable. All those eyes staring at him, people watching his every move. None of them were in a good state, scars all over their body and permanent injuries deeming them as useless.

Shelters were an easy way for owners to get rid of pets that they ruined, from lapdog to chew toy. There was always a demand for those as well, perfect stress relief for guard dogs. He didn't care for any of that, he needed a place to start, something cheep as a new owner. Against all advice, he'd rather take a broken pet then an expensive one.

Ted abruptly stopped, spotting a worker just walking out of one of the rooms. They turned to him, face switching from annoyance to friendly service worker in a flash. They clasped their hands in front of them, bowing slightly.

„Hello, sir! Is there anything I can help you with? A pet you're looking for in particular?“

„Hi,“ he smiled back, trying to look polite. „Um, I don't have anything in mind, just looking to start.. simple.“

„Simple? Oh, that's perfect!“ They stepped to the side, gesturing at the pets sitting behind the glass next to them. „We got a new pet just today, they're very well behaved and easy to take care of. Perfect lapdog and romantic with no scars.“

He hesitantly came closer, eyes fixed on the pet in question. To his surprise, there were two pets instead of one, but it was clear which one the worker was referring to. The pet in question knelt gracefully, pink and green hair framing their face with a hopeful glisten in their eyes. Their smile lightened his mood slightly, the first pet he'd seen that seemed genuinely happy. He glossed over the second pet, littered with scars and hair dyed a light blue, a tight leather muzzle covered half its face.

„What's their name? And why's there another pet?“

„Melon. The other one is Mint. They were brought here together after their owner passed and simply refused to be separated, so we let it be.“

„Melon,“ he repeated, letting the name roll off his tongue. „Okay. I'll take him.“

„Amazing.“ The worker clapped their hands together. „You can come fill out the papers at the front desk.“

Ted nodded, following them back through the hall. They gestured for him to wait a moment as they hurried into a different room behind the desk. He pulled out his phone to check the time, glancing back in the directions of the pets. He didn't realize how fast his heart had been beating until he calmed himself, taking a moment to process everything. He couldn't wait to be back in the comfort of his room, to relax by himself. And his new pet he impulsively got.

The paperwork was surprisingly short, but he still took his time reading through every little thing. The small print didn't pass him by either, he did not want to agree to anything he wasn't aware of. The signing and transaction went smoothly, leaving him on a road home with a pet sitting in the back of his car.

Melon imprinted on him like a duckling, trailing just behind him even without leash and obeying any command without struggle. A good sign to him — he wouldn't have to do any training to get them to listen. Ted took them into his office room, letting them explore a bit. His desk was filled with notebooks, scrap notes, pens and books. They curiously glanced around the room, eyes landing on the fluffy dog bed he had prepared in the corner. He searched through his messy drawer to find the collar he bought not long ago. It was white with small blue and pastel orange flowers painted on, rose gold buckle reflecting in the light, matching the leash perfectly.

He turned his attention back to Melon, feeling their gaze burn into his back. He smiled gently, telling them to hold the collar for him while he took of their old one. They nodded, tensing slightly as he stood behind them, fidgeting with the collar. Eventually it popped loose, the leather separating from their skin in what must've been years. Most of what was underneath was rubbed raw, angry red lines left behind. His breath caught in his throat, noticing how the pet seemed uncomfortable without it on, fingers twitching.

„Are you okay?“ Ted asked instinctively.

„Yes, Master Ted, they're fine.“

„Just- just call me Teddy.“

„Master Teddy,“ they corrected.

He hesitated, swallowing a sigh. He decided not to have this conversation now, leaving it for later. Ted threw the old collar down in the trash, reaching around to take the new one from their hands. They waited for him to grab it, lowering their arms again. He set it aside between the pile of papers on the desk, ordering them to wait while he got bandages. The pet stood patiently, shifting their feet slightly. Dread build up inside them, feeling more lonely then they had before. The minutes flew by, barely registering as Ted stood behind them once again, this time rubbing something cold on their skin and wrapping bandages around their neck. They welcomed the familiar feeling of a collar enclosing on them.

Ted was careful not to tighten it too much, wanting it to leave plenty room to breath. And hopefully stop the skin from getting that bad again. He wondered if Melon was constantly feeling the pain of it rubbing against the sensitive skin for all those years. Was it like that for all pets? He wouldn't be surprised, but it made him sick to the stomach thinking about it. Getting a pet just to neglect things like that, shouldn't people know proper care? He made a mental note to check back on the wound in a couple days, first focusing on the tasks at hand.

„Melon? Do you want to help me clean up around here?“

„Yes, Master Teddy. They would love to.“ Melon said.

„Okay. You don't have to, you can also rest, and take some time to get adjusted.“

They froze up, quickly shaking their head.

„Okay, okay,“ He soothed. „Um. How about..“

He trailed off, walking over to the desk. „..You can gather these books and put them back on the shelf! Yeah. I'll take care of all the loose papers.“

Melon nodded, obediently getting to work. They put all the books in one pile, easily carrying it with them to his bookshelves. They found the correct spots for them, squeezing it between all the others. At the last one they pushed in they slowed down for a second, eyes scanning all the titles. They lingered for as long as they dared, taking a glance at their Master, still occupied with sorting tons of papers. Slowly they pried one of the books off the shelf, flipping through as quietly as possible. They didn't understand any of the words, instead focusing on all the strange pictures and drawings of things they'd never seen before.

„What are you doing?“ Ted called.

Melon flinched, shutting the book and whipping their head towards him. „They're sorry, Master Teddy.“

„It's oka—“ He cut himself off. He had to punish unwanted behavior, not tell them it was okay. „Don't- don't do that.“

They nodded, putting it back in its place and falling to their knees in front of him. „They're sorry Master Teddy, please punish your stupid pet.“

He staggered, unsure of what to do. He didn't know how to punish a pet, and he sure as hell wasn't going to hurt them.

„No. No punishments. Since you're sorry, I trust you won't do it again.“

Melon peeked up at him, a confused expression twisting their face as they silently nodded. He started to have doubts about his capabilities as pet owner.

#whumpee #pet whump #whump #conditioned whumpee #whumper turned caretaker #multiple whumpees #reluctant whumper #captivity whump #curious melon

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taelme · 4 years

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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.

#changbin #seo changbin #seo changbin au #changbin au #changbin fluff #skz changbin #skz au #skz #stray kids scenarios #stray kids #stray kids au #stray kids fluff #enemies-to-lovers!changbin #on track #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #I love changbin

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bakubitch-minusultra · 3 years

Text

Requested HeadCanons

HHH MY FIRST REQUEST AH @zboIk

Request -> Then I would like to request but I cannot choose so : prompt 9 headcannons with Matsukawa / prompt 12 headcannon with Kita / prompt 17 headcannon with Kyoutani, because I feel like asking 3 headcannons is too much I will let you choose which inspires you most ! Obviously if you feel like doing the tree of them, two of them or none of them, it's totally fine !

Characters: Issei Matsukawa and Shinsuke Kita

Prompt Nine (Issei Matsukawa): When people are born, they are assigned a soulmate. They have an original song in their head that only them and their soulmate know. A person just broke into your house and you’re pretty sure they’re here to murder you. They’re humming your song under their breath

Prompt Twelve(Shinsuke Kita): At a party, a round of truth or dare starts, and you’re dared by someone to “go home.” Not one to back down, you comply and leave, though you’re pretty bummed. That is, until the next day you find out everyone at that party died mysteriously. Everyone except the person who dared you to go home

There was a small thud that woke you up

You shot up from the bed confused and panicked

You got out of bed, grabbing your phone and checked the time

It was 2:22 in the morning

You leaned against your closed bedroom door trying to hear whoever or whatever it was

Whoever it was obviously hurt themselves because a loud “FUCK” rang through the house

Everything went quiet for a couple seconds

You wanted to call the cops but were frozen in fear

You ran to your window, contemplating jumping out of it and running far away from the house and whoever tf was in there

Like a deer caught in headlights your whole body perked up and jerked towards the door when you heard the cock of a gun cut the silence

You were terrified to say the least

You rly thought you were abt to die and mentally said goodbye to your loved ones

But what you thought were your final thoughts were interrupted by a deep voice humming a song only you and your soulmate knew

Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down (BUIUBFBBEYFGI IM SORRY ITS THE FIRST SONG THAT CAME TO MIND GJOEIHIG)

Needless to say you were very confused and conflicted

For all you knew this could be some random stalker that heard you sing it and was trying to lure you out

But it was a bomb ass song

So you subconsciously began to hum with him

But then the humming stops and you hear hurried footsteps run up the stairs

You prepare your lungs to let out the loudest scream you can conjure but are stopped when a tall man swings open the door and smashes his lips to yours.

“I was going to kill you and steal all your stuff, would’ve been a shame to lose my soulmate”

Did you want to be at this party? No

But did you still go? Yes ofc

Why? Because the rather annoying miya twins dragged your ass to this lame party full of sweaty volleyball players

You sat on a couch, scrolling through your phone

You knew that they brought you so you could be their ride home and now you were just waiting for them to be so busted they want to go home

It was rather loud for a party and the house smelt like something was burning everywhere you want

Since your phone was about to die you pocketed it and just started to people watch

There you saw Kita, holding a red cup and observing the crowd just as you were

You were going to get up and walk toward him but stopped when you hurt someone shout “LETS PLAY TRUTH OR DAY”

There was a mix of boo’s and cheers and you found yourself being dragged into a messy circle of people sitting on the ground

You were smushed between two buff guys known as Bokuto and Iwazuimi (ima simp for the beefy bois)

The game started and there were weird dares and sexual truths and honestly you blanked out

That is until you heard a voice call your name, you looked up to see who it was that called you

And there Kita was, staring right at you

“Um...yeah” all eyes were on you and you just wanted to go home pff

“Truth or dare?” you instantly respond with dare because u didnt want to look like a pussy

“I dare you to go home, now.”

You were confused af????

Like bitch what type of dare was that so you just sit there wide eyed and confused

But then he repeats himself so without another word you just kinda get up and leave

You were supposed to drive the twins home but you decided that they could just ride with any of their friends

So u get home and put some pj’s on and go to sleep bc what else is there to do

Next morning you wake up to a shit ton of messages and emails from news channels

“House Party Ends With Everyone Dead”

You felt your heart drop and you felt like throwing up

But then you get a message on snapchat from none other than Kita

“Are you safe??”

-----

Requests are open!!

Link to writing prompt list: Here

Masterlist!!

ask me questions!!

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imagineproduce101 · 7 years

Text

Of Spreadsheets and Small Children

Your boss (and longtime crush) Hwang Minhyun has always seemed very collected and stern. However, your impression of him changes when he begins bringing his niece to work, tasked by his sister with watching the toddler while she’s away. The two of you bond over her.

for the single!dad au and i kno minhyun isn’t a dad (he’s an uncle) but like theres still children sO,,,

also the company is named empire bc emperor hwang lmao im not funny

and reader is a secretary

You sighed, doing your best to prop open your eyelids as you typed into the spreadsheet, carefully crosschecking the data you were entering to the online database.

“Late night again?” Your coworker and best friend at work, Kim Jaehwan, asked you as he popped into your small office, sending you a sympathetic smile. You groaned, leaning back to take a quick break. Your back cracked at the movement as you looked up at the clock on the wall, ticking away steadily.

“Yeah, boss is still out, so I’ve had extra work,” you explained with a shrug, turning your attention back to your computer.

“Minhyun never takes this much time off, I wonder what happened?” Jaehwan commented dryly, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. You shot him a dirty look.

“Mr. Hwang,” you corrected with a roll of your eyes, “and shouldn’t you be finishing your own work?”

“Somehow, irritating you is a lot more interesting,” he snickered, saluting you, “I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah, see you,” you bobbed your head as he finally left your office.

You’d had a job at Empire Co. for about a year and a half, working as the CEO’s assistant and secretary. Hwang Minhyun, a collected, slightly cold and brusque man, had grown to become extremely dependent on you, and it was strange to go to work without Minhyun’s presence right next door, separated by one thin sheet of glass.

It was the first time he’d been gone for more than a couple of hours—the man had even come in to work when he had the flu, coughing and wheezing as he disinfected every surface of the office. Citing a ‘family emergency’, he’d been away for about a week, and it was strange. Rumors had gone flying that he’d perhaps gotten arrested, gotten a girl pregnant or was getting married in Las Vegas. You’d rolled your eyes to all three conspiracies.

Your phone notification went off, signaling to you that you had new text messages with its quick succession.

Messages with: ceo hwang

(y/n), I will be returning tomorrow

Please have the Min files ready on my desk

And a jar of peanut butter

You frowned at the last text.

>Peanut butter?

You will be reimbursed, of course

You smiled at your boss’s apparent ignorance to the fact that it was super weird for a boss to ask their secretary to buy peanut butter for them.

Nevertheless, the next day, you arrived to the Empire building with the thick manila envelope holding the Min files and three jars of peanut butter—creamy, chunky, and the natural kind (you hadn’t been sure which he had wanted, but were too shy to ask). As you hurried to Minhyun’s office, you couldn’t help but wonder what the hell he needed peanut butter for.

“Ah, (y/n)!” Minhyun sent you a smile, accepting the grocery bag and manila envelope, “thank you so much, I really do appreciate it.”

“Who’s that?”

You froze at the sound of a high pitched voice, gaze immediately darting towards the source of noise. It was a toddler peeking out from behind Minhyun’s desk. Her hair was gathered up in a messy ponytail on the top of her head, and she clutched a raggedy blanket in her hand.

You looked back at Minhyun, entirely confused as to why there was a toddler in the office.

“(y/n), this is Minah,” Minhyun said, holding out his hand. The toddler, Minah, tottered over, clasping her hand into his. You wanted to coo at how adorable her tiny hands were as she peered up at you with huge eyes. “Minah, this is (y/n). They help me a lot at work, and is super kind and helpful.”

“Hi,” Minah smiled widely up at you, showing off her adorable dimples.

“Hi, Minah,” you said, kneeling to the ground, “are you here to visit the office?”

“Ah, actually,” Minhyun smiled in embarrassment, rubbing the back of his neck, “my sister asked me to watch Minah for a couple of weeks. She’s on a business trip to the tropics, and didn’t want to risk having Minah catch an illness, since she’s so young.”

“Ah,” you nodded in understanding, “so she’s not your kid?”

Minhyun turned a bit red at that, “did you think she was?”

You shrugged, trying to suppress a laugh, “that’s what the coworkers were thinking—that you’d taken time for some child or something. They started a betting pool.”

“Well, then you’d better tell them to settle their debts,” Minhyun chuckled at that. You were a bit surprised at the moment—you’d never really made small talk like this with Minhyun before. He would ask about your family and how you were doing, but never to this extent.

“Uncle, uncle,” Minah began complaining, “my hair is messy, and it’s making my head itch!”

“Baby, you know I don’t know how to tie hair,” Minhyun sighed, kneeling down to meet Minah at eye-level. “It took me thirty minutes just to figure out this one,” Minhyun whispered to you, making you chuckle.

“May I?” You asked, gesturing to Minah. Your own older brother had a couple kids, so you were pretty comfortable with taking care of them.

“Please,” Minhyun replied, stepping back to let you sit down next to Minah.

“Here,” you patted the ground in front of you, taking a seat on the floor of Minhyun’s office. It was one of the strangest situations you’d ever been in—doing the hair of your boss’s niece—but Minah was cute, which kind of made up for it.

You carefully smoothed out Minah’s hair before tying half of it up into a little sprout at the top of her hair, leaving the hair tie loose enough so that it wouldn’t hurt her head.

“There you go,” you said cheerfully, getting back onto your feet.

“Wow, you’re pretty good at this,” Minhyun observed as Minah peered at herself in Minhyun’s computer reflection. “Do you have younger siblings?”

“I have nieces and nephews myself,” you explained with a smile, gathering your things, “so I have a bit of experience watching kids. If you ever need any help, feel free to ask.”

“It’s alright, I couldn’t impose on you like that,” Minhyun assured you, “well, thank you for your help.”

“Yeah, no problem,” you replied, heading to your own desk quickly. As you powered up your computer, you glanced at Minhyun’s office through the see-through glass wall, and almost burst out laughing—Minhyun was vigorously wiping Minah’s face with an antibacterial cleaning wipe used to clean bathrooms and hard surfaces.

Messages with: ceo hwang

>mr. hwang, those wipes aren’t meant for children…

You watched in amusement as Minhyun checked his phone before looking over at you through the glass, a sheepish look on his face as he discarded the used wipe.

Its been an hour and I’ve already messed up…

For the next few days, you were thoroughly amused by Minah’s antics. One morning, she’d come into your office with a jar of peanut butter, eating it straight from the jar with a spoon.

“Sweetie, what are you doing?” you asked between laughs, going to take the jar from her.

“I like peanut butter,” she replied bluntly, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“I know, but we don’t eat peanut butter straight, baby,” you said with a laugh, leading her back to Minhyun’s office, “we put it on other things, like crackers or bread.”

“But Uncle said it was healthy,” Minah protested, pouting up at you.

“Yeah, well, Uncle’s never taken care of children before,” you replied, thinking back to the day before when you’d caught Minhyun practically bathing the poor girl in hand sanitizer. One of these days, his clean freak tendencies would be the death of him.

Minhyun looked up at you sheepishly from his computer, a small smile on his lips.

“Mr. Hwang,” you started, eyes darting up to the clock on the wall.

“Please, call me Minhyun,” he cut in with a smile, “I think you’ve scolded me enough times to warrant a first-name basis.”

“Right, Minhyun,” you repeated, much to Minhyun’s obvious pleasure, “anyways, if you’re alright with it, I can take Minah out to grab some lunch? My break is starting now, and she seems to be getting a little antsy.”

“Would you really?” Minhyun sent you one of his smiles, “You’re an angel, (y/n).” You felt your heart race a bit at that, but smiled anyways, holding your hand out for Minah to hold onto.

The two of you ended up at a small café near the building, Minah enjoying her mac’n’cheese while you had a sandwhich.

“You should marry Uncle,” Minah said suddenly as she spooned some of the pasta into her mouth. You choked at that, coughing loudly to dislodge the lettuce that had gotten stuck in your throat. Minah carried on, oblivious to how much your eyes were watering as you wheezed, “then you would be able to see me whenever I visited Uncle, and I really like you. Plus, I heard him telling Uncle Jonghyun about how he thinks you’re really pretty.”

You eyed Minah suspiciously, taking a deep sip of your water, “he said that?”

“Yeah,” Minah nodded her head, smacking her lips. You smiled, reaching over to wipe the cheese off of her lips. “He said that you were pretty, a hard worker, caring, and inte-inte-intelliment.” She listed these things off, counting with her fingers.

“Intelligent?” you asked, helping her slide the water glass closer so that she could take a sip.

“Yeah, that,” Minah nodded, “so just ask him to marry you.”

You held back a laugh, charmed by how adorable Minah was—you didn’t want to process the information she’d just given you quite yet. “I don’t think that’s quite how I want it to work, baby, but I appreciate it.”

Later that day, when you had settled down at your desk again, you pondered the meaning behind her words. Minhyun thought that you were pretty? And he thought you were pretty enough to apparently talk about you to his best friend?

Kim Jonghyun didn’t work at Empire, but his law firm had worked with Empire many times, which was how you knew that the two men were extremely close, having been in a best friend group since before high school. The fact that Minhyun had confided that in him made you wonder if maybe, just maybe, Minhyun had the same feelings as you did.

“(y/n)?”

Minhyun’s voice startled you out of your thoughts, and you jumped in your seat, banging your shin against your desk.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did I startle you?” Minhyun apologized.

“No, it’s not your fault,” you assured him, “I was just spacing out. What’s up?”

“Jisung from HR told me how much overtime you put in while I was gone,” Minhyun explained, “and you really didn’t have to.”

You smiled up at him, waving a hand, “it’s totally fine, it wasn’t a bit deal.”

“Still,” Minhyun insisted, “I was wondering if maybe you’d like to grab dinner as a thanks for all the hard work?”

“Mr—I mean, Minhyun—really, that’s not necessary,” you said, feeling your cheeks heat up slightly, “I was just doing my job.

“Yeah your job and half of mine,” Minhyun retorted playfully, “please. You deserve a fun night, and Minah will be there as well.”

You sighed, weighing your options—go out to dinner with the man of your dreams and an adorable child, or go home and binge Netflix. The choice seemed glaringly obvious.

“Alright, I’ll go,” you agreed, “but doesn’t Minah need to sleep pretty early?”

Minhyun wrinkled her nose at that, “the demon never sleeps,” he whispered conspiratorially.

“Hey, I’m not a demon!”

You glanced around the main room of the restaurant, feeling incredibly out of place among the glimmering chandeliers and ornate paintings.

“We can go somewhere else, if you’d like,” Minhyun said into your ear quietly, “I know it’s a bit fancy.”

“It’s okay,” you reassured him, “it’s nice here.”

The three of you were seating in a booth towards the back, Minah opting to sit next to you instead of Minhyun, who had pouted at that. After ordering some appetizers for the three of you, Minhyun asked you about your day kindly, turning his attention towards you.

Obviously, you’d talked and had conversations with Minhyun before, but never like this—never to that extent. He was attentive, and you were surprised to find out that he remembered your parents lived in New York and your brother in California.

“I supposed you have to remember all of the coworkers’ families, huh?” You laughed, taking a sip of water, “I wonder how many times you’ve heard that story about Jaehwan’s dad.”

“Which?” Minhyun asked, clearly puzzled. You paused—if Minhyun remembered some super obscure fact about your mom you’d mentioned once in passing, surely he’d remember the famous story about Jaehwan’s dad that Jaehwan insisted on recounting at every work event.

“You know, the one about Jaehwan’s dad in church?” You elaborated, waving your hands. Minhyun just continued to stare blankly, so you launched into the story, trying not to dwell on the fact that Minhyun knew more about you than the most talkative guy in the office.

As your main courses were brought out, Minah began chattering away about how her day had been—apparently, Jaehwan had brainwashed her into calling him “oppa”, to which Minhyun strongly protested, since Jaehwan was only a tiny bit younger than Minhyun himself.

“He’s an uncle too!” Minhyun cried, burying his face into his hands.

“No, he’s an oppa,” Minah said petulantly, ”he’s young, and more handsomer than you.”

“More handsome, baby,” Minhyun said, tsking under his breath.

“It’s okay, Minhyun, I think you’re more handsome than Jaehwan,” you said before you could filter yourself, cringing internally as soon as the words slipped out. Minah beamed up at you, and Minhyun sent you a small smile, cheeks tinged a bit pink.

The rest of the night passed quickly, Minah making sure to make fun of how Minhyun ate his salads (‘you look like a rabbit! You’re not a rabbit!).

Finally, the meal ended, and the waiter was giving you the look that said ‘get out of my restaurant so I can serve new guests’. Minhyun, ever the gentleman, offered to drive you home.

He pulled up to your apartment and hurried to walk you to the door, Minah making a kissy face from the back window. You snickered at how cheeky she’d gotten, and followed behind Minhyun.

“Minhyun, seriously, thank you for the dinner,” you said earnestly, “it was loads of fun, and I’m really glad that I agreed to go.”

“Me too,” Minhyun said warmly, smiling over at you. You felt your heart race up, and it was almost as though time had frozen. You stared at him, watching his eyes dart down to your lips and back up to your eyes. “(y/n),” he said quietly, as though to not disturb the moment. “Can I…” his voice trailed off, as he looked down at the ground, cheeks now bright red.

You rolled your eyes and leaned up on your tiptoes, pressing a kiss to his lips. His eyes widened in shock, and you couldn’t help but smile at how cute his expression was.

“Wha—how did you know?” He asked as a smile overtook his shocked expression, reaching down to intertwine his fingers with yours.

“You’re not exactly Mr. Slick,” you laughed, squeezing his hand, “plus, Minah’s been asking me to marry you for a couple of days now—I guess she overheard your conversation with Jonghyun.”

Minhyun winced, cheeks coloring again, “you heard that? Ah, that’s so embarrassing.”

You snickered, “well, it’s not embarrassing if we actually date, is it?”

Minhyun perked up at that, looking at you hopefully, “you would be willing to date me? Me, the guy who wipes his niece’s face with Lysol wipes?”

You grinned, pressing another quick kiss to his cheeks, “I would.”

“So does that mean you will marry Uncle?”

Minhyun groaned, glaring down at his grinning niece. “Minah, how did you even get out of the car?”

“I opened the door,” Minah shot back, shooting a look up at her uncle. You laughed at her expression, swooping down to kiss the top of her head.

“I dunno, we’ll have to see how well uncle does now,” you said, sending a mischievous look to Minhyun, who blushed and just shook his head.

(Minhyun does extremely well.) (And Minah is the flower girl at your wedding.)

#produce 101 #produce 101 imagine #produce 101 scenario #produce 101 oneshot #produce 101 fanfiction #wanna one #wanna one imagine #wanna one scenario #wanna one oneshot #nu'est #nu'est imagine #nu'est scenario #nu'est oneshot #hwang minhyun #hwang minhyun scenario #hwang minhyun oneshot #hwang minhyun imagine

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jungblue · 7 years

Text

nude wars | pt.1 (m)

» pairings: yoongi x reader x jungkook

» genre: smut, touches of fluff / frat!yoonkook

» word count: 4,458

» description: Okay sure, maybe having a threesome with two best friends from the same frat wasn’t the smartest thing you’d ever done. But hey, when the result was them vying for your attention in the form of scandalous snaps, breathy audio messages, and unspeakable texts, well then the decision definitely wasn’t that bad — Or alternatively, your phone getting caught in the middle of Yoongi and Jungkook constantly trying to one-up each other in a war of sexting (and just maybe romantics).

Nine texts, four missed calls, several snaps, one voice mail — who the fuck leaves voicemails?

The notifications flashed across the home screen of your phone after your blurry and sleep-deprived eyes managed to locate the button to stop your shrieking alarm that was set for six-thirty in the goddamn morning. The early wake-up time due to the fact that it was your turn to trudge through the morning shift at the café you worked at — now that was what you called a simple cause and effect. You have the morning shift, so you set your alarm earlier than usual. It was simple, however as your thumb rested against the screen of your phone, the previously mentioned notifications continuing to stare back at you with urging enticement, you once again wondered how this particular cause and effect had come to fruition.

Your teeth caught hold of your bottom lip, bearing down on the tender flesh as your heart began to rapidly beat against your chest. Ragged sighs invaded your lungs as you pressed your thumb against the home button of the device. It unlocked, revealing what you of course already knew would be there. The small red dots that indicated how many missed alerts you had received throughout the night. It was with a deep breath that you pressed down on the first icon to rid yourself of the notification that held the least weight.

Your call log immediately appeared, and of course their names appeared along the screen in red. It was who you expected of course, which was the reasoning behind your excited fidgeting as anticipation dug its claws into the pit of your stomach. The log went as followed:

Missed Call: Yoongi [3:21 AM]

Missed Call: Jungkook [3:27 AM]

Missed Call: Jungkook [3:31 AM]

Missed Call: Yoongi [4:18 AM]

One set of notifications down, you thought to yourself. The missed calls were now wiped out… But there was still the matter of the pesky voicemail. Who had sent it? Jungkook? Yoongi? You thought it best to leave the voicemail for last — the things they said with those voices of theirs always managing to pull at your sanity.

Once you exited out of your calls, you hesitated. You could either go for the text messages or the snaps next. Both had potential to be equally as devilish. You had not known until recently that words could be just as wicked as pictures. However, it was because of these said past encounters that you knew the potential of the glowing yellow app that sat with two awaiting alerts, and so you went for the texts.

It was Yoongi who appeared at the top of the feed of messages.

You stared at it for a moment or so to collect your composure (a composure that would surely be shattered in the coming seconds), before quickly tapping against the rectangular box; six of the nine texts now laid before you.

Yoongi:

[4:01 AM] you ditched me at the party babe

[4:02 AM] surprised you could walk well enough to sneak outta my room so quickly while I was in the bathroom though

[4:02 AM] you know considering how hard you came around my cock tonight

[4:02 AM] but that’s okay bc you left something

[4:04 AM] check your snap

[4:04 AM] sweet dreams

You pulled a slight hiss past your teeth, the words sending a heavy simmer of warmth beneath your skin. Of course you knew exactly what he was referring to, considering you had purposefully left him the previously mentioned token of gratitude before slipping out of his bed earlier last night. You did that knowing it would without a doubt lead to a moment such as this one — and you couldn’t wait to see what Yoongi had done with the opportunity. Suddenly you wanted to finish so that you could see what he’d sent you. Quickly you left Yoongi’s messages, and you didn’t waste any time clicking on Jungkook’s.

However, in true Jeon Jungkook fashion, he managed to halt your hastiness with three simple texts.

Jungkook:

[3:49 AM] you were really naughty tonight you know that?

[3:49 AM] sucking my dick like that and then running off to fuck yoongi

[3:50 AM] bet he tasted my cum on your tongue. didn’t he?

An audible sigh slipped past your lips because for some reason you found such burning pleasure in the thought that Jungkook had just described. Your lower stomach flooded with arousal as you remembered the way your lips had wrapped around Jungkook’s pulsing member, the flash of his seed spilling down your throat before you made your way upstairs to Yoongi’s bedroom only minutes later. You practically jumped on his cock the second you opened the door, mouths messily pressing together — and just as Jungkook had proposed, the younger’s cum had without a doubt been tasted by his elder friend.

But it wasn’t as if Yoongi hadn’t been aware of the fact that you’d just been with Jungkook. His feline-eyes caught your own as he watched Jungkook pull you through the crowd of messy bodies to the downstairs bathroom. It was the upward twitch of his lips into a smirk as he motioned his head to the ceiling towards his room upstairs that prompted you to find him after you were finished with Jungkook. Your thighs began to rub together beneath your blanket as you got lost in last night’s memories of the two men. Staring up at Jungkook through teary eyes as he fucked into your throat seamlessly drifted to Yoongi pounding you into his mattress.

However it was then that you let your eyes wander to the top of your phone screen and you realized that you needed to hurry this up so you could get dressed for work. You quickly exited out of your texts, and with only one single moment of hesitance you clicked down on your app for snapchat. Purple squares sat next to both Yoongi and Jungkook’s names, indicating that they weren’t just pictures — but videos… You might be just a tiny bit late for work this morning.

You decided to watch Jungkook’s first since it was the most recently sent. Your fingers were almost shaking in excitement as your thumb tapped against the screen. Suddenly the raven haired boy appeared in front of you. He was laying on his bed (you could tell because of the iron man sheets), with the camera framed from his chest up, and he was shirtless — of course he was. His hair was messy and tousled as he stared up into the lens, his appearance alone making your toes curl into your comforter.

“The party was so lame after you left,” He yawned, a lazy grin plastered to his lips as his low and gravelly voice sent a jolt straight to your center. “You know you could’ve spent the night, right? Instead of going all the way home. But I guess you ran off to Yoongi before I could offer,” He pouted, and it made you chuckle as the first video cut and the second one started. “But I guess I should go to bed,” He sighed, but then almost instantly his mouth was curved into a smirk. “Hopefully I dream of those pretty fucking lips of yours sucking my dick down again… Speaking of which—” The video cut, jumping to the final part of his late night message to you which pulled a gasp from your throat.

It was a picture angled from above, the snapshot catching him from the neck down. Your teeth clamped onto your bottom lip, your eyes drinking it the way his hand was wrapped around his hardened length. It was so red and needy looking, his thumb stroking across the tip as he showed off the vein lining the underside. His stomach muscles were bulging, letting you know that he had probably stroked himself close to his orgasm before sending you this.

Your mouth started to water staring at the racy picture — regardless of having seen the sight dozens of times due to the fact that these sort of morning wake-ups had become common place since meeting Jungkook and Yoongi almost two months ago at some random party that their frat had thrown. But even after all that passed time, the sight of his veiny, throbbing length still sent a shiver of desire through your body; the desire to sate him.

And that was simply because no one had better reactions than Jeon Jungkook.

It was so incredibly entertaining to watch him transform from confident playboy to a writhing, whimpering, whining mess beneath your ministrations. Your mind thought back to just a few hours ago when you’d had his back pinned to the bathroom door as you swallowed him down, his high-pitched moaning bouncing off of the walls as his mouth fell slack after a few simple flicks of your tongue. His thighs shook as he begged you to let him cum, and there was simply no way to resist him when he sounded that desperate beneath you.

Eventually the picture disappeared off of the screen, much to your disappointment. It was a rule between the three of you that you wouldn’t screenshot compromising things such as straight up nudes, because honestly you sent pictures and videos often enough that they weren’t needed.

But now that Jungkook’s snap was gone, you were once again faced with the tempting purple square of a video dancing next to Yoongi’s name beneath your fingertip. You could already feel wetness accumulating between your legs as you readied yourself to press down, and you could only imagine how much worse it would get after this. You inhaled deeply as you tapped at the screen — which turned out to be a huge mistake because you instantly choked as soon as the video began to play.

It was your ‘forgotten’ item poised between his teeth — or in other words, it was Min motherfucking Yoongi looking at you through a camera with his icy gaze and smirked lips, your panties hanging from his mouth.

“That fucker,” You muttered, bringing the phone closer to your face, but that part of the video ended almost as quickly as it had started. And you would’ve been totally disappointed… If not for the fact that the next clip that played was Yoongi with your underwear wrapped in his hand as he used it to stroke up and down his throbbing cock.

You gasped, bringing your hand over your mouth as you watched him pleasure himself with your goddamn underwear. It felt like the ability to breathe stalled in your throat for the ten seconds that the video went on. You could hear the tiny grunts falling from Yoongi’s mouth as he worked himself over, his hips already starting to buck into his grip.

“Oh my fucking…” You trailed off, your brows furrowing together as you studied his movements, and of course the first thing your eyes landed on (besides his painfully hard erection) was his hands.

Min Yoongi’s hands were the single most enticing entity that you’d ever had the pleasure of encountering. Various forms of your meetings included things such as having them entangled in your hair, gripping at your ass, or even wrapped around your neck as he fucked into you.

In that moment you could see the prominent vein that ran beneath the top of his hand. It taunted you as he bucked into his clenched fist. The material of your underwear spilled past the gaps in his fingers as he tensed his grip. The needy growls were building in the back of his throat, the movements becoming sloppier as you watched him approach the edge of his high. Clearly Yoongi had waited until he’d been right on the edge to send this because before you could even process the telling grunt that bit past his lips, the first sudden spurt of his seed released. You couldn’t help but outwardly moan at the sight of his cum spilling down the skin of his hands as it mingled with the lacy material of your panties.

However, all good things must come to an end, and that was only proven when the sight of his still leaking member disappeared from the screen. What appeared after that was a picture of Yoongi simply holding your ruined underwear in the palm of his hand as he smirked into the camera. The banner across the photo read:

you should actually stay the night next time when you come to pick these up

You smiled as you tapped the photo away. Once the white screen appeared, you were finally given back the ability to think coherently. Heat had begun to build itself so high inside of your limbs, your thighs twitching together from the sticky beginnings of arousal. You didn’t have time to finish yourself off considering you hadn’t given yourself the couple of minutes necessary to have this mini sexting session, let alone given yourself the time to masturbate afterwards.

But at least the decision was easy this time around.

You quickly tapped at your messages once more, clicking on the group chat that consisted of you, Yoongi, and Jungkook. Your fingers quickly typed the answer you knew the boys would be waiting for when they woke up, presumably several hours from now. The answer to who had won this morning’s little game being etched across the screen.

[6:51 AM] Good use of the present I left you Yoongi

You let out a tiny giggle, pressing the phone to your lips as you imagined the mayhem that would ensue in the texts when Yoongi and Jungkook eventually woke up. At first you had been against the insistence of the two men for you to tell them things such as ‘winners,’ or whose sext of the day you had enjoyed more. You didn’t wanted to offend either of them in your choices, and besides you thoroughly enjoyed everything they sent you, so you didn’t see the point in choosing… But it didn’t take you long to realize the fire that your choice lit beneath them.

Every time they engaged in this game, your choice only fueled them to think of bigger and better things that they could do and say to torture you when they weren’t within your immediate reach. Unfortunately this resulted in moments such as these, with you lying in bed alone, completely unsated and overwhelmingly horny — much too horny for this early in the morning.

You grumbled to yourself as you sat up, swinging your legs over the side of the bed to get ready for work. You made your way over to the dresser that held your uniform, sluggishly slipping each article of clothing on. Why the hell did you go out last night when you had to be up so early? You couldn’t help but chastise yourself as your body begged you to gain refuge within your sheets and blankets once again. But of course you remembered exactly why you had gone out last night against your better judgment, and the reason was simple — you were shamelessly addicted to Min Yoongi and Jeon Jungkook.

It had been almost two months since that first fateful encounter, the montage of memories flashing through your mind. A long night of banter and surprisingly intriguing conversations between two best friends slash frat brothers managed to turn lustful as the three of you slipped up to Yoongi’s room in a tangle of desperate and needy limbs during a party. It ended up being the greatest sexual experience of your entire life, the two men pushing you to your breaking point of pleasure until you were an overstimulated mess beneath them. You had of course expected it to be a simple one time occurrence, and it was because of this that you were highly surprised by their response of asking you to stay after you untangled yourself from their bodies to leave and go home that night.

“Where you going, beautiful?” Jungkook had asked, sitting up from the bed with sweaty strands of raven hair pushed off of his forehead.

“I have a shift in a few hours. Unlike you trust-fund babies, I actually have to work to pay for college,” You responded, slipping your underwear on as you eyed the room for the rest of your clothes.

“Aw don’t be mean now, babe,” Yoongi purred from his laid-back position against the pillows, a lazy grin lining his lips.

“Actually Yoongi is the only trust-fund baby here. I’m a sports scholarship baby, football seven days a week.” Jungkook looked smug as he smirked up at you from the bed, his rippling muscles on full display as if to further prove his point.

How was it again that you managed to fall into bed with the school’s star quarterback, and the son of the founder to Min Inc.? Yeah, seriously how the fuck did that happen?

“Y/N, you can stay,” Yoongi said as you slipped your shorts up your legs.

“Yeah, seriously. We want you to stay,” Jungkook added, reaching his hand out to stroke your bare thigh.

You smiled, ruffling the younger boy’s hair as you bent down to retrieve your bra from the floor.

“Thanks for the offer but I live right next to my work, so it’ll just be easier when I wake up if it’s right there.”

It was highly convenient that you stayed just a ten minute walk away from your job at a local coffee shop. The distance allowing you to gain those precious thirty extra minutes of sleep that you always desperately needed.

“Fine,” Jungkook sighed, jutting his lip out in an amusing pout. “Can we have your number at least? Tonight was fun.”

At the time it wasn’t exactly something that you had to mull over. The sex was great, and you knew these guys were looking for something casual, so why not?

“Sure,” You said simply as you unlocked your phone and tossed it onto the bed between the two of them.

By the time you were fully dressed, managing to find every article of your clothing that had been scattered across the floors, Yoongi was handing the phone back to you.

“I texted myself, so I have yours,” He said as you took the device from his hand.

“Me too,” Jungkook added.

“Cool, just hit me up whenever. I’ll see you guys,” You said simply with a smile, and you were about to turn and leave but suddenly someone’s hand wrapped around your wrist.

“Wait, one more thing.” It was Jungkook’s voice, and by the time you turned to face him again, his lips were connecting with yours.

There was a slight gasp before you quickly melted into it. His hand cupped the side of your face, guiding you along in the kiss. Your tongue slipped past his mouth, circling with his in a brief entanglement that had Jungkook groaning against you — but it was again very brief, and that was because suddenly you were being steered away from the younger boy, and through half-lidded eyes you managed to make out Yoongi’s face before you were kissing him instead. His hands gripped at your waist, pulling you in as he did the same with his tongue. It snaked around yours, demanding your attention with timely strokes until he broke away with you bottom lip settled gently between his teeth.

“We’ll definitely take you up on that offer,” Yoongi whispered against your mouth before falling back into his original positon along the pillows with a satisfied grin. “Jungkook’s always busy with football practice though, so maybe next time it can be just us,” He smirked.

Jungkook narrowed his eyes in response. “But I’m always looking for a way to destress after practice. Maybe I can call you sometime?”

You couldn’t help but smile at the little game that the two boy’s had going on. Jungkook and Yoongi were the power couple of best friends. Everyone knew that, even people that had never actually met them, so you knew it was all in good fun.

“Definitely,” You replied simply to Jungkook’s question before continuing. “But I really gotta go. I’ll see you guys.”

“Bye,” You heard them both say as you made your way to the door, but as you were leaving you heard a small snippet of conversation that was so childish that it was amusing.

“You basically kissed me just now,” Jungkook said to Yoongi, and you could hear the playfulness in the younger’s voice.

“Yeah well if we’re going by that logic then I fucked you,” Yoongi replied with little emotion, and it made you snicker as you shut the bedroom door, effectively leaving the two friends behind.

That was two months ago.

And just as the boys said they would, they contacted you again… And again, and again, until eventually it somehow transformed into something that you would almost consider to be routine. You saw them every couple of days, and it wasn’t even sexual all of them time. They had essentially become friends to you… Friends that you just so happen to have a lot of sex with, sometimes together or apart.

It was strange, you never would’ve imagined that going upstairs with them that night could’ve caused all of this. But that again brought you back to your point from earlier, and that was simply, how exactly had this specific cause and effect come to be? Effect: Gaining two sort of friends with benefits, along with beginning a technological war of nudes and texts that your phone was now involved in. Cause: Going off with two sinfully good looking boys so that they could consume you in every way imaginable.

— But you definitely weren’t complaining about any of it.

Now it was just a common thing for events such as the ones that had occurred this morning to unfold. Waking up to a line of notifications that you knew would make your blood run hot. Whether it be from their words, pictures, videos, or voices, it all resulted in the same thing; you being unimaginably needy for the both of them.

It was thoughts of those devilish notifications that suddenly made you remember something. Because of your rushing to get ready for work, it wasn’t until you were already out of the door and on your way to the coffee shop that you remembered the voicemail. You quickly pulled your phone out of your back pocket before clicking your way through until you were looking at your voicemails.

Min Yoongi.

You sort of expected that he was the one who had left it. After all you had ditched him without saying any sort of goodbye. It wasn’t that you did it maliciously, but you needed to get home and he was taking too long to come back from the bathroom, so you decided that you would talk to him later… And also maybe because you knew leaving your underwear for him to find would lead to a lot more fun than saying a simple goodbye.

Eventually you readied yourself to hear the voicemail, not entirely sure of the content that it would hold. But you were tired of waiting to find out, so you simply took a deep breath before tapping against the play button and bringing the phone to your ear.

“Hey,” He started, voice sounding gruff as if he were on the cusp of sleep. “So you ditched me tonight, but I don’t really know why I was surprised… And I don’t really know why I’m leaving this voicemail either because like who the fuck leaves voicemails anymore,” He chuckled nervously, making you smile. “But I guess I’m just calling because I didn’t get to say bye to you tonight, and you haven’t opened the snaps so you’re probably already sleeping. Maybe I can come by tomorrow after you’re off of work or something? So hopefully I’ll see you then. But yeah, next time… Maybe you could stay… or something… uhm yeah. Night, Y/N.”

Huh, that was certainly a juxtaposition to those deadly texts and snaps that he’d left for you.

Of course that didn’t change the fact that you were now smiling like an absolute idiot as you walked down the sidewalk, your thumb already coming down on the play button to replay the message, his sweetly apprehensive words once again filling your mind.

Over the past two months you had learned a few things. One of those being that the older half of your friends with benefits combo, Min Yoongi, was not very good with words — well at least when they didn’t pertain to anything sexual. Other than that he tended to keep to himself. He would talk and add to the conversation of course, but it was definitely less than someone like Jungkook. It was so amusing to see such a difference in Yoongi. One second he could be brazenly telling you how badly he wanted you to ride his dick, and the next he was a cute, hesitant mess as he muttered that he wanted to see you after you got off of work. But it didn’t bother you in the slightest, in fact you actually found it to be incredibly charming.

Jungkook’s charms were similar, but opposite in comparison to Yoongi’s. The younger was shameless in everything he said, sent, or typed, not a hint of hesitation within him. However, it was always amusing to watch the unabashed boy turn speechless beneath you when things turned sexual. Most of the time you let him keep the ability to murmur his enticing words against your skin, and that was simply because you found it difficult to resist his emboldened dirty talk… But sometimes it was a bit more fun to turn him into a whimpering mess, rendering his repertoire of sexually verbal discourse completely obsolete.

So alike, yet somehow so different they were. That was the amusing thought that continued to dance through your mind as you finally walked into work. The overwhelming scent of coffee already wafted through the air around you, a few of your co-workers giving you a quick wave as they readied everything.

You couldn’t help but think about how long of a day this was going to be. Your shift lasted well into the afternoon and you already wanted to run into the break room to sleep your exhaustion away. Why exactly had you gotten a job that required you to wake up at the crack of dawn again? Oh yeah, it was called tuition, rent, and food. However, even as you reluctantly made your way to the back of the shop, you couldn’t help the creeping memories of promised visits by two certain someone’s that made the idea of this horrendously long shift slightly more tolerable.

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#kwritersnet #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts scenarios #bts #bangtan #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #yoongi #min yoongi #yoongi smut #yoongi fanfic #suga smut #suga fanfic #bts imagines #kpop fanfic #kpop smut

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parkjmini · 7 years

Text

fam(ily) - one | pkjm

parent!au: park jimin A single father of twins show you the true meaning of family and what it takes to love like a parent, even if they aren’t your own. word count: 4.8k genre: fluFF?? aNGST?!? idk jimin is a dad

one | two

[A/N]: goin straight to the point, our little family by the very talented @nightbts heavily inspired me to write this fanfic !! I absolutely lovLOVEelovelove that story, so much i made my friend read it WITH me. its a beautifully written piece and i never knew i loved parent!jimin so much. sis i wasn’t lying when i said it inspired me to write my own !! pls enjoy, dont have high expectations bc its not anywhere near how good OLF is lol

“I don’t think you’re going to find a decent girl at the club.” Jungkook said entering the noisy, dark building.

Jimin laughed, “who said I’m trying to find a decent girl?”

Taehyung rose an eyebrow. “So what are you going to do when she wants to hook up? Bring her back to your place with your twins in the next room?”

Jimin frowned and ordered the first drink on the menu. “No.. I don’t know.” You, the only girl bartender in the club, fixed the drink in the fastest manner Jimin has ever seen. You poured it into a glass and slid it towards the man. He lifted it, weary as to how it was going to taste. The glass rim touched his lips and the alcohol burned his throat as he took it all in.

“Can we just enjoy the night?” Jimin asked when he saw the other two awkwardly hesitant. “I’m not bringing home anyone, guys. I came out here to forget that I was a single dad working a 9 to 5 job.”

Jungkook laughed and patted his best bud’s shoulder. “That’s a little hard to forget when your babies are both of your wallpapers.”

Jimin rolled his eyes and shrugged off his friend’s hand. Taehyung walked off to flirt with the girl bartender down the bar. Jimin was left alone, swirling the ice and liquor in his heavy glass.

“Rough night?” You asked as you polished the cups. He looked around to make sure you were addressing him. Taehyung had wandered off to another girl and you had walked back over. He peered up to see your soft smile. Your eyelashes fluttered against your pale cheeks. Your hair was secured messily in a bun.

Jimin laughed it off, not sure how to answer that question. It was more of a rough entire six years and since he had twins, it felt multiplied by two. “You could say that.”

You looked up from your towel and paused. Half smiling, you began making another drink. You mixed some of the hardest alcohols and shook up something deadly. You grabbed Jimin’s empty cup and poured in your concoction. “Oh no.. I didn’t order—”

“It’s on the house.” You smiled. “It’ll make you feel better… or numb. Sometimes feeling nothing at all is what we all need to feel okay.”

“Thank you.” Jimin beckoned his drink to you and sipped it. It was a strange taste, but smooth on the tongue. “That’s something else. What is this called?”

“It’s not on the menu. It’s my special drink.” You reorganized your counter. “You seem like you needed one.”

“Ah, are you a mind reader on the side as well?” Jimin joked, earning a laugh from the both of you.

“Sadly no. That doesn’t pay enough for the bills.” A man sneaked up behind you and poked your sides, causing you to yelp cutely. Your sweet smile disappeared. “God, I told you I hate that shit.”

“Surprise! How about you come back to my crib tonight?” He nibbled on your ear. Jimin looked away, uncomfortable at the scene in front of him. He scanned the room for his friends, while at the same time eavesdropping on your conversation.

“I’m with a customer right now. Are you really asking me to hook up when I’m working?” You sounded annoyed, extremely annoyed.

“Did you forget how you even got this job? Don’t give me attitude or you can go back being unemployed.” A loud smack caught Jimin’s attention. He thought he’d slapped your face, instead he saw the man’s hand groping your butt. Your face contoured into disgust. Jimin would never want anyone to touch his daughters like that. He couldn’t take it anymore, his blood boiled the longer he stared.

“You know I can file for sexual harassment right?” Jimin spoke up and chugged his drink.

The man let go of you. “What are you? A cop?”

“No, but I am a witness to your sexual harassment.” You stepped away from the man, pushing his hand away from your backside.

The man laughed and nodded. “Okay. My bad.” He winked at you and strutted away, something else catching his short attention.

“Thank you.” You whispered loud enough for only Jimin to hear. Your head ducked down, embarrassed.

Jimin shook it off. “Don’t worry about it. I have tw—” He stopped himself before continuing, knowing he was giving out too much information than needed. “—I just hate seeing women getting treated like that.”

Your smile returned, bright and resting comfortably on your face. “I’m (Y/N).”

“Jimin.” He replied almost instantly.

“Well Jimin, I hope your tomorrow is a better day. Enjoy the rest of your night.” He saw you smile once more before heading to his left to greet other guests.

By the end of the night, Jimin was in no shape to drive home. Jungkook and Taehyung had to lift the man into the car and take him back to Taehyung’s place. Jimin was so knocked out that he wasn’t sure which visions were reality and which were his dreams.

He must’ve dozed off for a while until he shot up in panic on his best friend’s couch. “The girls!” He yelled. The curtains were stained with a light blue, birds chirping in the trees. It was the perfect morning scene, but not for Jimin.

Taehyung walked out of his room with just his boxers on. Confused, he ruffled his hair. “What are you yelling about?”

Jimin was trying to find his jacket with his car keys. Frantically, he searched every space between the cushions. “Tae, it’s Monday. The twins have school. What time is it? Where are my keys? Where did you put my jacket? Why did you let me drink last night?!”

Taehyung, as panicked as his friend, started turning his own house upside-down to find his friend’s belongings. “I think it’s 7:35 AM.”

“Thirty-five?! I only have five minutes to get home and even make sure that they’re awake and get them to school before 8 AM? School is like a fifteen minute drive… dude! Help me!” Jimin paced the now messy living room.

“I’m trying! Maybe creating a mess was a bad idea because now we can’t find anything.” Taehyung rummaged through his counters and tables. His movements finally stopped when he finally remembered where he left his friend’s jacket. “You didn’t leave the club with a jacket, Jimin.”

Jimin groaned and held his head. He was dealing with a major hangover headache and now this. “How did I not leave with one?”

“You were passed out on the dance floor without a jacket when Jungkook and I found you, man.” Taehyung ran inside to get his own car keys. “Take my car.”

Jimin caught the tiny trinkets in his hands and hurried out the door. He rushed through probably three yellow lights and drove as fast as he could. Jimin rolled out of the car and knocked on the door to his home.

Thankfully, it didn’t take long for it to be opened. “Jimin, where have you been all night?”

“Jen, I don’t have time right now to explain. Are the girls up?” The young girl nodded and crossed her arms.

“They’re getting dressed right now. I was worried sick when I found your bedroom empty this morning. Jimin, go change quickly. You smell like throw up and alcohol.” Jen ushered him to his room. Jimin didn’t have much time to wash up, but he changed out of his clubbing attire to something more comfortable. He roughly combed through his hair and spritz some cologne to mask the smell.

Jimin went right down the hall to his daughters’ room and knocked softly. He heard the innocent giggles and a small ‘come in’ before entering.

“Minjoo? Minseo?” Jimin saw the two girls with socks on their hands and big smiles to see their father.

“Daddy!” They both cheered in unison. They latched onto their dad, who gathered his two favorite girls in his arms.

“Girls, why do you have socks on your hands?” Jimin pulled a funny face and they both giggled, clapping their sock covered hands.

“Seonnie said they’re mittens.” Minjoo chimed and rubbed her dad’s face with her soft socks.

“JooJoo said her hands are cold in the morning, so I said we should put socks on our hands to keep them warm.” Minseo conducted heat with her tiny baby hands and placed them on her sister’s cheeks.

Jimin gazed upon his beautiful daughters and set them down. “Well, where ever you have them, we need to go. We are going to be late for school.”

“Oh no! Teacher says that that’s bad.” Minjoo grabbed her backpack that was way to big for her and pushed her dad’s left leg to get him out the door. Minseo followed suit.

Jimin waddled out, with his two girls pushing him along. Jen laughed at the sight and handed Jimin the keys to the car and a water bottle. “For the hangover.” She smiled and Jimin thanked her.

“What would I be without you?”

“Late. Now go.” She shooed the man and his kids out the door.

“Girls?” Jimin called behind him to the tiny six year olds at his legs. They both stopped and turned back to the young women at the door.

“Bye Jen!” They waved together and continued shoving their dad to the vehicle.

“Bye you two, be good at school.” Jen closed the door and Jimin carried his daughters to Taehyung’s car. He buckled both of them in the back as they whined about there being no car seat.

“I’m borrowing Uncle Taehyung’s car right now, so there aren’t any car seats.” He rushed and hopped into the driver’s seat. Taking a deep breath, he started up the ignition and took his daughters to school.

“Good morning class!” Your older cousin beamed with excitement in front of the tiny kindergartners. The small children were huddled up in a circle around her. It was always so astonishing to you to see how different someone could be around children. You were doing a teacher internship program and was lucky to be assigned to your relative’s class.

You don’t have children of your own or any younger siblings, but you loved children. You wanted to develop the same passion your cousin had for teaching. Before you were able to actually become a teacher, you first had to finish school. To pay for school, you had to work and since you were busy during the day, your only options were night time jobs. That lead to you getting a job as a bartender, which you’ve never hoped in becoming.

A knock startled both you and your cousin. She gestured her head for you to answer the closed classroom door as she continued her lesson plans. Opening the door, you were greeted by a familiar face and your favorite twins.

“(Y/N)?” Jimin choked out. He looked as if he’d seen a ghost. You closed the door to the classroom and stood outside to talk.

“J-Jimin? What are you—”

“Daddy, you know Ms. (Y/N)?” Minseo asked curiously, tugging at Jimin’s jeans.

“Ms. (Y/N), sorry we’re late. We tried to hurry, but we had socks on our hands!” Minjoo apologized. “And daddy wouldn’t let us go in until we put them back on our feet.” She pouted.

“Girls, why don’t you join the class first?” You opened the door to let them in.

“Bye Daddy!” Minjoo reached up to give Jimin a hug goodbye.

“Have fun at work, Daddy!” Minseo chimed in and joined her sister in a hug fest crave.

Jimin got down on one knee to hug both of his precious girls. “Kiss?”

The twins each gave Jimin a kiss on his respective cheeks. He did the same to them, the two earning kisses on both of their soft round faces. “Be good girls. I’ll see you two real soon.”

The way he acted towards his children warmed your heart. He was so gentle and looked at them lovingly. You heard your cousin welcome them warmly before you shut the door again. “Well.. this is unexpected.”

“Which part?” Jimin chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

Your hair was no longer in a messy bun, but cascading down your shoulders. Your make up was more minimal. However right when you smiled, Jimin had a rush of familiarity. “I never expected to run into customers from the club at an elementary school.”

“Yeah, I figured you wouldn’t.” Jimin laughed nervously. A heavy atmosphere fell upon the two of you.

“I guess I can see where those two got their cute smiles from.” You mentally slapped yourself for saying that. He was probably married to a magnificent woman. It was so inappropriate and you saw as he shifted on his leg. If anything, you added to the uncomfortable silence. “I apologize for that.”

“No-No, no it’s okay, really.” Jimin laughed, his eyes disappearing again. “Maybe I should let you get back to teaching.”

“Oh.. I’m not a teacher, yet.” You shook your head. “I’m just the intern. My cousin is the teacher.”

“You’re an intern?” Jimin asked. You were a lot younger than he thought.

“Yeah.. are you more surprised at the fact that I’m an intern, than the fact that we meet again in a family friendly environment?” You chuckled.

“A little. You’re much younger than you come off as.” Jimin ran his fingers through his hair.

You nodded, “it always seems as so.” Your heart thumped lightly at his simple movement.

“Now are you more surprised by the fact that we bumped into each other in a school than the fact that I’m a father to twins?” Jimin joked.

“Well I was caught off guard, but now I understand why you were so mad last night at my boss.”

“Maybe I really was one of the good guys?”

Your eyes widened, not intending for your comment to come off offensive. “I mean I’m sure you are. I’ve just never seen anyone react the way you did.”

“I guess I shouldn’t have threatened him with a sexual harassment complaint. I was going to punch him, but your special drink had really strong effects on my motor skills.” Jimin saw your tint cheeks at the mention of your drink.

“If I knew you had children to go home to, I would’ve toned it down a lot more than what I gave you. How’s the hangover? You okay?” You rubbed your arm, guilty for giving him such strong poison.

He gave a thumbs up. “Really kicking my ass right now.”

A screaming child caught your attention inside the classroom. “I should get back inside.” Your hand blindly found the door handle. Jimin nodded and shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Nice to see you again, (Y/N).” He backed up slowly and you did the same.

You exhaled as your back pressed against the heavy door. Something deep down made you want to see Jimin again. He was a very attractive man, day and night, he knew how to dress. His hair wasn’t pushed back like it was last night, so it gave him a more youthful look. You couldn’t stop thinking about him.

Ever since he sat down at the bar, you knew you wanted to get to know him. Of course, you didn’t know he had two daughters and he’s probably married. He looked young, so when Minjoo and Minseo appeared at his side, you were shocked. He was a young father of two. The thought was beautiful.

That was when you realized you needed to diminish any feelings that dared to surface. You needed to erase any thoughts that weren’t appropriate. He already had a perfect family, twins and a loving wife.

Your cousin motioned you over to her desk. The children were all distracted finger painting, dipping their small fingers in globs of paint. “What took so long?”

“I was talking to a parent.” You whispered.

“How did it go?” She asked, filled with a childish wonder.

Puzzled, you blinked back at her. “Fine? They were running a little late because Minseo and Minjoo had socks on their hands—”

“I’m not talking about that. I mean what did you think?” Her hands held your shoulders to shake you, a big smile on her face.

You held onto her wrists to stop her, “what did I think of what?”

“Park Jimin.” Your cousin’s voice was low and quiet. She was eyeing the twins to see if they’d heard. However they, too, were immersed in coloring with their fingers.

“Kim, what?!” You were surprised for the second time that day. Genuinely confused, you wondered as to what she was trying to get at.

“He’s a fine piece of a—” You covered her mouth before she could continue.

“He’s your students’ parental guardian. Kim, this is so unprofessional. He’s married.” Your eyes were popping out of your sockets.

She chuckled softly, “honey. He’s a widow.”

Stunned, you froze. Your cousin was clueless to your expression. “Kim, that’s even worse! He’s still legally married, but his wife is gone.” You whispered loudly. You freaked out. Everything you previously felt was absolutely gone. You felt guilty for even trying to hit on him. Your eyes panned to the quiet girls giggling to themselves. Sympathy filled your eyes as you watched them wipe paint on each other’s gumdrop cheeks.

Kim shrugged and marveled. “Well.. all I’m just saying is that he’s hot and a young dad. A single hot young dad with two cute twins. How much better is that?”

“A single dad not by choice.”

“Okay, yeah. I hate how you have a heart sometimes.” She groaned and walked over to tend to her twenty-something children.

“That’s coming from a kindergarten teacher, Kim.” You followed after her.

Jimin clocked into his mundane office job. He had gone home to change into his business casual clothing after dropping off the twins. Jen had left and prepared a breakfast for him. Taehyung arrived with Jungkook behind.

“The girls arrived to school on time?” Taehyung shuffled next to Jimin.

Jimin shook his head. “They were late, but not because I didn’t drive fast enough. It was because they had socks on their hands.”

Jungkook popped up at Jimin’s right. “Socks? On their hands? Are you still drunk?”

“No. I’m not making this up. They had their socks on their hands as mittens because JooJoo’s hands get cold in the morning. I didn’t want to bother with them putting it on their feet because I was rushing out of the house. But then I couldn’t let them walk into school with socks on their hands.” Jimin sighed and gave Taehyung his keys back. “You need to drive me to pick them up though.”

“Fine by me. That means I get to leave early.” Taehyung did a little celebration dance before sitting down in his cubicle across from Jimin.

“Who gets to leave early?” The company’s CEO walked past their tables. Jimin, Jungkook, and Taehyung stood up and bowed slightly to greet her. “You remember what I said about the bowing, none of that. It makes me feel weird. We’re like the same age.”

All three of them exchanged glances and relaxed. “If you’re this lenient, people won’t take you seriously.”

“I’m only this chill with you guys, maybe not Taehyung.” Her hand rested on Jimin’s shoulder. Taehyung automatically sat down and rolled his eyes. “Did you get the new files, Taehyung?”

“New files?” He half groaned, half pouted. The CEO nodded her head and tapped her wrist, as if she had a watch.

“How are the girls, Jimin?” She beamed happily at the young man.

Jimin coughed, “good. About the girls.. I need Taehyung to drive me to pick them up. I left my car somewhere else and I lost my car keys—”

“No worries. 4 PM, right?” She smiled and Jimin nodded. “Great. Just make sure you finish what you need to before clocking out. Taehyung, those files!” Her heels clicked away and she hid into her office.

“I swear she has a vendetta against me.” Taehyung sighed.

Jungkook laughed, “or maybe she’s into you, but she’s trying to hide it by targeting you.”

“That’s too deep, man. And if she is, it’s still not very fun.” Taehyung rested his head on his hand and stared at his computer screen.

After several hours staying sedentary, Jimin got up to stretch out his tired legs. Him and Taehyung walked to the bathroom together, discussing last nights endeavors. Getting back, Jimin saw a missed call and a voicemail left on his personal device. It was from the twins’ school.

Quickly listening to the voicemail, he prayed that nothing had happened to them. He hoped that they weren’t in any trouble or any bad news. Schools usually only called if there was bad news. Jungkook looked over Jimin’s cubicle to see the panicked man on his phone. He nudged Taehyung, who also watched the scene unfold.

“Hello Mr. Park… Jimin.. this is Ms. (Y/N). I know this is probably very inappropriate, calling you on your personal number when there isn’t an emergency. Well, I feel like it’s still urgent enough to give you call. Nothing is wrong with the girls, they’re fine. I wouldn’t want you to worry about that. I’m calling because you left your jacket last night. I forgot to mention that this morning and I would like to give it back to you because I assume you would like to pick up your car as well. If you want to arrange some time, call me back on my personal cell.” Jimin searched for a pen and a post it note to scribble down the following numbers.

He hung up and proceeded to dial. After the second ring, your delicate voice answered. “Hello?”

“Hi, (Y/N). This is Jimin. I was wondering when it’ll be a good time to pick up my jacket.” Jimin spoke nervously through the phone. His sweaty palms clenched his dress pants.

You hummed lightly, “I’m heading over to the club right now to start my shift. You can swing by any time and get it.”

Jimin slapped his forehead as he realized something, “I bet you I got a parking ticket.. I am such an idiot.”

“I hope not. I re-parked your car in my reserved parking spot, so that wouldn’t happen.” Jimin couldn’t see you, but he knew you were smiling. A weight was completely lifted off of his chest and he sighed.

“Thank you so much. I can’t even explain.”

“No problem. Just give me a call when you get here.”

“Alright. And (Y/N)?” Jimin didn’t want to leave you just yet. “How are my girls?”

“They’re wonderful. No need to worry. They’re all heading over to after care.”

“And you? How are you?” He genuinely wanted to know how your well being was. Some part of him didn’t want to hang up and let you go. He heard you chuckle over the phone.

“I’m good. Thank you for asking. How is that headache?”

Jimin grinned slightly, unable to stop his lips from curling up. Taehyung kicked him underneath the table and eyed the CEO getting up from her desk. “Subsiding. I’ll see you later tonight.”

“Goodbye—” Jimin hung up abruptly and shoved his phone into his pocket.

“Who was that?” Jungkook smirked.

Jimin was caught off by that question. He was embarrassed to share about who you exactly were. “The girl bartender from the club.”

Taehyung rose an eyebrow, “how did she get your number?” He glanced over at Jungkook and made kissing noises.

“You two are so immature.” He brushed them off.

“Wait, the girl who totally rejected me?” Jimin nodded at Taehyung’s remark. He pretended to be offended, but it didn’t last long. “She was hot. Nice choice. Just admit you gave her your number and we can move on.”

Jungkook snickered and a smile crept onto Jimin’s face. The thought of them thinking that he did that made him laugh. However, they obviously misunderstood. “I didn’t, but assume what you want.”

“Oh, you so did.” Jungkook hollered, causing a scene. Everyone in the office stared in their direction as they all three tried to pretend nothing happened.

You rapidly grabbed Jimin’s coat from your car and headed to the back parking lot. You had told them to wait there for you. Walking out from the suffocating building, the cold air caused goosebumps to form on your exposed arms. You held his silky material close to your chest.

Jimin came out of the car and his friend appeared from behind the rolled down window of the driver’s seat. “Hey gorgeous, remember me?” He smirked and licked his lips.

You only smiled because he was Jimin’s friend. “Ignore him.” Jimin rolled his eyes and received his jacket from your clutch. “Thank you again. I can’t imagine where I’d even begin to look for it.” There was a wet glisten in his eyes and he refused to look into yours.

“You’d most likely suffer a parking ticket first.” You joked in hopes to lighten the mood, puffs of smoke coming from your mouth as you laughed. Jimin always had that charm to make you smile. He was honestly a funny guy, very easy going. You wanted to be the same to him. You desired to see his famous eye smile.

You heard tiny voices call after you. Peering behind Jimin, Minjoo and Minseo came pouring out of the car. “Bye Uncle Taehyung.” They waved halfheartedly and rushed off to hide behind their dad’s legs.

“Thanks Tae.” Jimin signaled off his friend, who simply nodded and drove off.

“Ms. (Y/N)! We saw you at school today.” Minseo observed. You got down to face the two shy, yet excited girls. Minseo and Minjoo had Jimin’s eyes and squishy cheeks. You saw Jimin in the twins whenever they smiled, but when they didn’t, they didn’t look much like their father. Their features were both incredibly proportional and small. You pondered about the beautiful woman who gave birth to these marvelous girls.

“Yes you did. It’s late now. You guys should go home now and wash up, you little monkeys still have paint on your faces.” You scrunched up your nose and pinched their soft chipmunk cheeks. They responded with an adorable giggle and toothy smiles. Minjoo had two of her top teeth missing and Minseo had two of her bottom row missing.

“I heard you guys did finger painting. These two wouldn’t stop talking about how much fun it was.” Jimin patted both of their heads and ruffled their black hair.

“Fun, but messy.” You enticed. “I have to go in now, girls.. Jimin.”

“Right, of course. Sorry for all of this. Come on, we need to go home and eat dinner.” Jimin reached for the twins’ hands.

They whined and ran to latch onto your legs now. “But we want Ms. (Y/N) to stay, Daddy!”

“Yeah. She can eat dinner with us. She can taste how good of a cook you are.” Minseo praised and pleaded Jimin with her sad puppy eyes.

You couldn’t stop your heart from burning at the girls’ affection. “Park Minjoo and Park Minseo, remember when we talked about other people having their own plans they need to do? We can’t always have everyone’s time.” He knelt down and spoke sternly, with a child-like voice. They were still his babies, so he spoke softly.

“You’re right.. Daddy.” Minjoo let go and pouted in Jimin’s arms. Minseo refused to let go. She was always the more independent, stubborn twin.

“Seonnie..” Jimin chimed. The endearing nickname caught your attention and you melted at how gentle Jimin was to his girls.

“I am not letting go until Ms. (Y/N) promises us that she’ll have dinner with us one day.” Her short arms wrapped around your calf. Jimin looked up at you, sending you apologetic eyes, and back at his daughter.

“We can’t force people to have dinner with us, baby.” His hand smoothed her hair.

“I’d love to.” You blurted out and held out your pinky for Minseo. She erupted into giddy smiles and cheers. “I promise I’ll join you for dinner one day.”

“You don’t have to—” Jimin tried to convince you otherwise, but you truly wanted to join the tiny family for a meal.

“I want to. You can’t change my mind, I’ve already locked the promise with your daughter.” You smirked. Minseo wrapped her little finger around yours.

“JooJoo!” She waved her identical sister over to join the pinky wrap. She popped up and followed her sister. “Daddy!!”

Jimin hesitated before intertwining all four of your pinkies together. “Until we meet again, (Y/N).” He beamed.

“Until we meet again, Jimin.”

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wildheart-warriors · 7 years

Text

Timelines: Chapter 1.5

Willowpaw, Redpaw, and Spottedpaw’s apprentice ceremony, bc I felt bad about just time-skipping over it.

“Keep still! I don’t want you messing up your coat,” Swiftbreeze chided. The she-cat was doing her best to groom Willowkit’s unruly fur into submission, while Redkit fidgeted beside them. Spottedkit lounged in the dirt nearby, her dappled coat ungroomed and full of leaf shreds from the medicine den.

“You’re certain he knows?” Redkit’s voice wobbled anxiously as he shuffled his paws. Anxiety bubbled in the young tom’s gut and sent nervous energy through his limbs.

“Yes, I spoke to Sunstar yesterday,” Swiftbreeze mumbled around Willowkit’s fur. The little she-kit’s pelt had tangled just behind her ears, where she couldn’t reach it herself.

Redkit gulped and bit his tongue. He wanted to press further, to make absolutely sure, but his mother was already keyed up enough. She’d get snappy if he didn’t drop it.

“If he messes up your announcement, I’ll cuff his ears myself,” Bluefur cut in, slipping out of the nursery with her own kits in tow. Redkit smiled nervously, though her assurance did ease his worry just a bit. At least he knew there were more cats than just his family on his side.

“It’s not as if you’re the first,” Spottedkit chimed in. “Featherwhisker told me that there’s a Windclan cat, Dawnstripe, who was born a tom and decided she wanted to be a she-cat instead.”

“Yes, of course,” Redkit murmured, more to himself than anyone around him. He was only working himself up and he knew it, but it was awfully hard not to think about what could go wrong.

Stonekit slipped on a patch of half-melted snow on his way out of the nursery, and cut off Redkit’s internal anxiety loop by colliding with him. Swiftbreeze groaned loudly.

“Bluefur, would you help me? Willowkit’s got tangles in her fur and I haven’t even touched Spottedkit yet.”

“Sorry, Redkit,” Stonekit squeaked. He only laughed, though, batting at his younger denmate’s ears.

“Watch out, once I’m an apprentice I’ll be able to kick your butt for something like that!” He growled, grinning at the younger tom. Stonekit swatted him in the nose and tumbled to the side, laughing as he took cover behind his sisters.

“Redkit! Stop it, you’re going to get all messy again,” Swiftbreeze hissed. Stonekit stuck out his tongue.

He didn’t have time to pounce on the offending kit. Sunstar emerged from his den, nodded to Swiftbreeze, and mounted the high rock to call the clan together. Bluefur gave Spottedkit a few more swift licks, and Swiftbreeze sighed in resignation as a tuft of fur stood straight up on the back of Willowkit’s neck.

“All cats old enough to catch their own prey, gather here beneath the high rock for a clan meeting!” Sunstar’s voice rang out across the clearing, and Swiftbreeze quickly bundled her kits towards the center of camp.

Redkit let himself be herded along, apprehension building once more in his stomach. Something was going to go wrong. Would Adderfang say something? His father hadn’t looked at him the same since he’d said he was a tom. What about Patchpelt and Leopardfoot? He hadn’t had a chance to tell his older siblings yet, what if they didn’t like him anymore?

Cats streamed from every corner of the camp, all of them eager and full of pride when they spotted Swiftbreeze and her litter sitting just below the high rock. Adderfang emerged from the warriors den and Redkit looked down at his paws, but their father hurried over, sitting beside his mate and children. Redkit stole a glance around, spotting Stonekit watching from outside the nursery, and his older siblings grinning at him from a few tail lengths away.

“It is time for Thunderclan to welcome three new apprentices into its ranks,” Sunstar began, his warm gaze resting on the three kits. “Willowkit, please step forward.” Swiftbreeze gave a last, valiant attempt at getting her daughter’s fur to lie smooth. It was in vain.

Willowkit practically skipped forward, staring eagerly up at her leader. “Willowkit, you have reached the age of six moons, and are ready to begin your apprenticeship. From this day on, until you have received your warrior name, you will be known as Willowpaw.”

“Poppydawn,” a dark ginger she-cat rose from the front, puffing her chest out with pride. “You are more than ready for your first apprentice. You demonstrate patience and understanding, as well as fine hunting skills. I expect you to pass on all you know to Willowpaw.”

Willowpaw rushed to touch noses with her new mentor, throwing Redkit and Spottedkit an excited, almost disbelieving look. Redkit blinked encouragingly, but Spottedkit was too busy staring at Featherwhisker to give her sister the time of day. She would be last in the order. And that meant Redkit was next.

“Redkit, please step forward,” Sunstar looked nothing but proud, but it did little to quell Redkit’s anxiety as he padded forward. Still, he did his best to look brave and excited, puffing out his chest and meeting his leader's’ eyes. “You have reached the age of six moons old, and are ready to begin your training. From this day on, until you have earned your warrior name, you will be known as Redpaw.”

Sunstar paused, and Redpaw swallowed thickly. He knew what came next. “In addition, you will no longer be addressed as a she-cat. Redpaw, from this day forward, is a tom.”

Time stood still, and Redpaw held his breath. He refused to look at his clan mates and kept his gaze fixed on Sunstar. He waited a moment, and then another. Silence had never sounded so sweet. Sunstar cleared his throat, and went on.

“Halftail,” The tabby tom padded forward from behind Redpaw. “You have shown your prowess as a mentor before in training the departed Snowwhisker. You have a resilience few cats can match, and the intelligence needed to overcome great obstacles. Though Redpaw may face more challenges than he deserves, I expect you will teach him what he needs to know to survive, and to become a great warrior in spite of adversity.”

Redpaw almost sobbed, relief swamping his body as he turned to face Halftail. His mentor looked nothing but proud. He had to hold his breath as their noses touched, too afraid that he would start crying like a kit if he didn’t. It was over, and everyone knew, and no one cared, and they still loved him.

Halftail and Redpaw sat together beside Adderfang and Spottedkit. His sister looked starry-eyed, and Featherwhisker quickly climbed the high rock to stand beside Thunderclan’s leader.

“It is my honor to announce that Starclan has sent us our next medicine cat,” Featherwhisker purred. The clan murmured quietly, though they had all known for moons that Spottedkit would train under the medicine cat. “Spottedkit, please step forward.”

The calico she-kit took her place, bits of herbs still clinging to her fur as she stared up at her soon to be mentor. “You have reached the age of six moons old, and expressed a desire to learn medicine and the ways of Starclan rather than those of a warrior. From this day on, until you have earned your full name, you will be known as Spottedpaw. I am proud to take you on as my apprentice, and at the next half-moon you will travel with myself and the medicine cats of the other clans to be accepted by Starclan at the moonstone.”

Featherwhisker bounded down and the two cats touched noses, Spottedpaw absolutely beaming. The clan erupted into cheers around them, a roar of ‘welcome’ and approval that nearly overwhelmed Redpaw.

“Willowpaw! Redpaw! Spottedpaw! Willowpaw! Redpaw! Spottedpaw!”

Once the cheering died down, Sunstar dipped his head to them. “That is all, meeting adjourned!”

The throng of Thunderclan cats began to disperse, some calling congratulations to the new apprentices as they passed. Most importantly, though, were Patchpelt and Leopardfoot.

“Congratulations, little brother,” Patchpelt purred, and Redpaw’s heart soared. Leopardfoot cuffed him lightly over the ear.

“Adderfang told us already, but I’m glad the whole clan knows now. You’re happy with this, right?” Leopardfoot mewed.

Redpaw nodded so hard he almost fell over. “I-I was so scared, that you might not...like me anymore,” he admitted. His sibling’s eyes softened and they ducked down to nuzzle him.

“Hey, nothing could ever do that, you hear? You’re our kin, regardless of what you’re called. We’re not going anywhere, and neither is anyone else,” Patchpelt murmured. Leopardfoot purred in agreement, and Redpaw let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

“Thank you,” he mewed, and his voice cracked in the middle, sobs of relief threatening to spill out.

“Enough sappy stuff. Go see your new mentor, maybe he’ll show you around the territory!” Leopardfoot said. Redpaw nodded, butting his head against each of them one last time before he turned and raced towards Halftail.

For the first time all day, he felt like everything was going to be okay.

#warrior cats #fanfiction #redtail #willowpelt #spottedleaf

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circumswoop · 7 years

Text

perfect, really easy

I hope I can still do this. Write on my phone. Write at all. I still have a messy novel that’s really more of a deconstructed memoir buried in a google doc and I think I have a heart buried somewhere nearby too. The pilot Ben and I are trying to make has been slowed by technical misfortune, substance abuse, and literal distance. I was told from a neutral corner that my dialogue, which is my main consultancy, is too cerebral and will make the show Hard to Sell. If u gave me cash up front, I would be willing to make it dumb. If it’s spec only, I think the smartness of it swings a kind of bellum against my own boredom. It is, indirectly, a show abt a woman who’s turning 30, has two boyfriends, and is constantly thinking up ways to avoid both of them.

I’m in a rental car with two friends in the middle of New Mexico. Scheduled to go to Marfa two weeks ago, we got into some leftover coke one of us had, mere hours out from our flight, and then nobody woke up on time. Hence the rental. This has got me fucked up, the mind-blowing lack of quality control that went into this. Who books a flight and doesn’t show up? Who does coke and then oversleeps? I now have credit toward a future flight, to a destination I can’t imagine, bc the future rn is the only thing I truly believe to be fake news. Where shd I go next–home for christmas? A beach where the sand looks and feels like broken glass? I want to breathe into a balloon til it turns into another planet where depressing inadequacy is not so elemental. I feel like a farmboy who cannot get all his chores done. This year and the whole headlong rush of this epoch toward certain death by profit cannot be sensationalized enough, and yet sensation is almost all it consists of. An indefinite, generalized body feeling is what we are all turning into as news and politics hammer us with detail. All hammer, no sickle. In the time it took to write the last paragraph, which also involved a lot of staring out the window while eating Taco Bell to be honest with you, we crossed from New Mexico into Texas. Welcome to Texas here’s your white hood. Welcome to Texas the state that killed Kennedy. Actually it was a supreme leftist who killed the centrist Kennedy, but the John Birch fascists get all the credit. Such is our myth of Texas that we empower their racists with more historical thought and influence than they ever exerted over their most famous export which is assassination.

I am in Marfa for the unaccustomed luxury of time spent with friends in an unfamiliar place.

At the start of summer I wrote in an email “even better than love’s confessions are its permissions”. According to the Invisible Committee, much of being a radical is refusal of the world. As abstention makes me feel more miserable not less, I can’t relate. Maybe the reason I can’t go full radical, or am fatally reluctant to, is I like being able to say yes a lot. Anytime I feel desolate or estranged, I get kitted out and go be seen in public even if I don’t talk to anyone. Which I usually don’t. My friend Chloe says she does this too. Love only makes sense to me as a radical act. Much of what passes for functional love in this culture is really just a bunch of hyperextended reactions to institutionalized sadness, but lots of luck finding anything better. I’d like to beat bourgeois coupling unconscious as much as any self-made cynic, but when you compare American marriage to, say, American corrections, both of which are needed systems lost for good in insane blears of greed and paranoia, abolition may not be the answer. It’s like, you can fix it only by starting over which is not the same thing as abolition. Abortion maybe, bc you can always try again if u want. Habitually getting mixed up with ppl already in committed relationships is probably just emotional vampirism. Some call it looting, I call it eating. As a marginal figure slightly on the spectrum with anxiety and repression who can still somehow lie and flirt and manipulate at the executive level all while having no interpersonal or socioeconomic prospects that I don’t want anyway, I am a really good last chance for someone with a probably basic, art-damaged kind of life. Married women always speak of their husband figures in slightly awed tones like they can’t believe how lucky they got, like the man is good in all caps and would instantly unravel at the slightest seam in the stocking. Like if he ever caught them stepping out via some OPSEC mistake they made and not even by his own subatomic awareness level, he’d be demolished simply by never having had anything go wrong for him before. Husband is such a specific kind of person-state, grown and trained, and if I were to ever try to be one i would have to hack the shit out of it–although I’m not convinced they’re any less toxic just bc they’re more high-functioning. Meanwhile the wives or wives-in-waiting pretend not to know they’re already starring in a commercial for how much sweetness and light and GOOD do not fulfil. In short, this is the kind of lawlessness that permits radical love but briefly, before turning again to refusal–the refusal to tamper with status quo, to make any kind of permanent alteration. If it’s secretly very trendy to decry structures the existence of which you not so secretly benefit from, what’s worse is to treat those structures more like fabrics to loiter in or on, or touch longingly. Essentialism doesn’t rend.

If you fall in love with someone you’re not really allowed to, and then that love goes mutual, you’re at least tagging yourself in a picture of paradise. But eventually you’ll be asked to leave. And since paradise is just a picture anyway, your image will feel decayed and exposed. Now it’s 2 days later and I’m back in New Mexico. Despite being a dreamlike Klono-state of pleasant denial, Marfa is still in Texas, the roguest of states. We drove near the Mexican border thru light so splendid the terrain looked recently refreshed. We put our hands in natural running water and looked at millipedes stranded on rocks. A thunderstorm diffused somewhere off to the side. Every picture arrives on your phone instantly airbrushed. The sky dies in pinwheels of color every evening and then reblooms like it never happened, sunsets and sunrises as breakdowns and recoveries scaled to look like natural events. Texas is beautiful but it is not art. Drive-thru banks, courthouse annexes, touchless car washes, parked backhoes, so many f150s.

Halcyon Digest, the Deerhunter record that didn’t define a decade but definitely translated it, was on repeat all summer. So we were playing that as we barreled thru arroyos and past rock formations so intricate they looked cut with string, and I remembered a night earlier in this terrible terrible summer when Ben and Andrea and I were doing coke and playing dominos at like 3am and the song Helicopter was on–that’s the one abt the Russian fashion hopeful murdered by sex traffickers. Its lyrics are too beautiful to edit so I will not reprint them here but I remember as Bradford sang “I have minimal needs/and now they are thru with me” something resetting as I looked at the faces of my friends, like a key of exquisite sadness being turned but I did not know in what lock. I’m certain it wasn’t just a drug reference, and I’m certain I won’t realize exactly what it was for years.

On the 10 out of town, just before the Prada store, there is a zeppelin, part of the Tethered Aerostat Radar System, used by border patrol. Its role is surveillance. Unmanned, it hangs perpetually off the ground, secured by a single cable, from which it can reach altitudes of 15,000 feet, a white bulge of eerie focus, as various homing info scatters and beams. If you ran for your life, this is the thing you would imagine hovering over you, just out of frame. The kind of thing that knows it doesn’t have to hurry to get you. So run. Maybe I can still do it.

#texas #marfa #i don't want to die #i just don't want to do this anymore

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cookinguptales · 7 years

Text

Sweat-Slick to the Touch

Another charity fic! An anonymous donor asked for fluffy, sweet NSFW karabita and I did my best to give that to them. lol. Thanks for your donation to Rainbow Railroad!

This is about 1700 words long, so you might be more comfortable reading it on AO3. No link in the post bc tumblr’s a dick about that, so you can either look me up on AO3 or just click to read it below the cut.

It was the perfect time of year for making love. Karamatsu had cracked a few windows while Chibita was out at the cart, and Chibita could smell that even as he got undressed for bed. That elusive scent of flowers giving way to summer leaves carried in on heavy air -- warm enough to be comforting but not so warm that he couldn't stand to curl close to Karamatsu in their futon. Everything felt warm and soft and intimate on nights like these, and the faraway sounds of city life fell away beneath Karamatsu's ragged breaths.

He looked gorgeous on nights like these, too. His skin had gone sweat-slick and dewy with very little effort, and Chibita could taste it there, salty-sweet, as he pressed kisses down Karamatsu's throat. He was beautifully flushed, from heat and pleasure both, and Chibita chased that dusky redness as it crept down his chest. Karamatsu was quiet for once, even when Chibita let his teeth graze the tight skin surrounding his nipples, and Chibita wasn't complaining. It was nice on those nights when Karamatsu seemed to feel the heat like a blanket, when he'd just gasp and sigh like speaking would break a fragile peace. Like it was just him and Chibita alone in the world together, buried in piles of rumpled up sheets and lost in each other. Lost, lost, lost.

Chibita stretched upward so he could brush one kiss, two, against Karamatsu's parted lips, and he swallowed Karamatsu's groan when he pressed his thigh in against his cock. "You like that?" Chibita murmured, and felt his lips curve upward when he heard the hitch in Karamatsu's breath. He pressed down again, gentle, sinuous, and let sweat-soaked skin drag against Karamatsu's most sensitive parts even as he dropped another kiss to slack lips. "Wanna fuck me?"

Karamatsu's hands slid up Chibita's legs, his hips, so they could hold him securely around the waist. Karamatsu hummed against Chibita's lips, not quite a yes or a no. Then, "I want to make love to you."

Chibita's laugh wasn't much more than a huff of breath, but Karamatsu smiled up at him like it'd been pealing bells. It was painful, really painful. Probably. Chibita just felt the rising tide of fondness, though, warm and sweet and familiar. Karamatsu was a dope, but he was Chibita's dope. And he loved him so much.

He kissed him again, deeper this time, a little slick, a little dirty. "Open me up, then," he said, and he wiggled his rear playfully. He could feel Karamatsu's breath stutter in his chest and his stomach tighten, and Chibita pressed the soft flesh of his ass down against that stomach a little more forcefully. He wanted to feel that. He wanted to feel how much Karamatsu wanted him. He wanted to feel muscles drawn tight with desire. And then he undulated a little, pressing his hips backward to meet Karamatsu's. He wanted to feel that hardness sliding up behind him, too. Inside him. He wanted Karamatsu's cock.

Chibita watched the bob of Karamatsu's throat as he swallowed hard. "Where's -- "

"Right here," Chibita said, pushing the tube into Karamatsu's hand. What, did Karamatsu really think he'd crawled into their bed without a bottle of lube? On a night like tonight?

And fuck, fuck, it felt so good every time. The initial shock of the lube, cool against heated skin, giving way to pleasure as Karamatsu's fingers slid inside him. They'd done this a lot by now; Chibita's body knew without being told how to relax for the intrusion. It was just soft give and slick fingers pressing up against all of the secret places inside him. Chibita had only ever let Karamatsu touch him there, and holy fuck could Karamatsu touch.

Chibita pushed his forehead to the grounding hardness of Karamatsu's collar and gritted his teeth against the sensations sparking along his nerves. It was good. It was so fucking good. "Just like that," he murmured, a little uselessly. "Right there."

"Here?" Karamatsu asked, a rumble down his chest, and he pressed his fingers into a spot that he goddamn fucking knew was the right spot. Of course he knew. And Chibita would've been annoyed with the teasing if he could feel anything but white-hot pleasure rolling over him and laying him out flat. He gasped and shoved his hips back on Karamatsu's hand, and the moan was so sudden and so loud that it almost surprised him.

"Y-- " Chibita's voice cracked in his throat. "You can -- " He was ready, he was so ready. He never took much prep, not for Karamatsu's cock. They fit together like they were made for each other, they always had, but that one simple, obvious fact never seemed to make Karamatsu hurry the hell up and fuck him. Instead he just did what he was doing now, this slow slide, in and out, fingers stroking him, drawing him up, laying him out. It would be torture if it didn't feel so good. "Karamatsu."

Karamatsu sighed like Chibita was being imminently unreasonable. "Fine," he said, and he really had no call to sound so put out when he was about to get to put his cock in someone. He slid his fingers free, though, and wiped them -- somewhere, fuck, Chibita should probably be paying better attention to that. But all he could focus on was the way Karamatsu's hands were fixed on his hips and guiding him backward. All there was was that blunt pressure against his hole, teasing until it wasn't, and then Karamatsu was finally, finally filling him up.

"Fuck," Chibita gasped, and bucked his hips backward. "Goddamn it."

And Karamatsu, he might have thought that he would tease him again, but Karamatsu, god. His eyes were shut tight and his mouth was gaping open and it would have looked ridiculous if it weren't the hottest thing Chibita had ever seen. He looked so perfect like this. Chibita saw messy hair slicked flat against Karamatsu's forehead, he saw his red, red mouth, kiss-bitten and well-used, he saw the way those ridiculous brows of his were drawn together in something like agony, something like exquisite pleasure. He saw it all through the haze of his own lust, and then he couldn't see anything at all. His eyes had closed, almost without his own permission, as he tried to ground himself against the pleasure. Karamatsu was in so deep. He was stretching him so wide. It was so perfect. God. Why weren't they doing this all the fucking time? It was perfect, perfect, and Chibita could hardly stand it.

Hell. He couldn't stand it. His hips snapped backward, snapped down, and Karamatsu moaned loud as Chibita started a rhythm. He was riding him almost without cognizant thought, like Karamatsu had pushed that rational part of him up and out when he'd filled him up with his thick cock. Now there was just something old, something primal, and Chibita was full up with it. He could hear his own gasps like they were coming from somewhere far away, his heartbeat like it was the thrumming soundtrack of the entire world, and none of that mattered against the slick skin on skin of their lovemaking.

Below him Karamatsu whimpered, then groaned, and Chibita opened his eyes. And yes, fuck, yes, that was exactly what Chibita loved to see. Karamatsu's eyes like dark slits, narrowed with pleasure and gazing up at him like he was something radiant, something holy. Like he was so very, very loved. Like he couldn't fucking look away.

Like it was only them in the entire world.

Chibita clenched down as he rocked back, and he relished the way that seemed to force Karamatsu in even harder, even deeper. It was like he was everywhere, touching him everywhere, filling him up all the way. Fuck, it was good.

Karamatsu hissed beneath him. "Don't -- you'll make me -- "

Chibita gasped in a breath, just enough to fuel a shaky little laugh. "Gonna come?" he asked.

Karamatsu's grip tightened on Chibita's hips, and it almost hurt. Almost. Chibita loved it. He loved pushing Karamatsu like this and making him hold onto something for once in his damn life. He loved being the one thing Karamatsu could never let go.

"Yeah," Karamatsu bit out, and he sounded so put out. Like once this was done, they were done. Idiot. They were going to do this for the rest of their damn lives, if Chibita had anything to say about it.

"So come," Chibita said, the words leaving him on another breathless little snicker. "Come inside me, come on."

"But you -- "

"I got it," Chibita said, and he did. Karamatsu felt so good inside him. So good. It wouldn't take much, Chibita knew, to send him over the edge right behind him. He sat back on Karamatsu's cock, pushing it impossibly further up inside him, and took his own cock in hand. Fuck.

And maybe that, that little bit of extra pressure, that new lovely view, was more than Karamatsu could bear. He made a strangled sound and went very, very still as his fingertips ground in deep against the flesh of Chibita's hips.

Chibita tightened up inside, trying to wring out every last second of that beautiful pressure, and his hand quickened on his cock. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He wasn't quite there, not quite, not yet when Karamatsu went lax again beneath him. When he sighed loud and long like everything in the entire world was perfect, and then took one hand from Chibita's hips so he could wrap it around Chibita's fist, so he could lend his own aid in pushing him right over the --

Chibita yelled as pleasure took him, hard and fast and blinding in its intensity. Fuck. Fuck. And through it all, even as his own hand stilled against his cock, Karamatsu stroked him, sure and sweet and just right.

Chibita sagged down against Karamatsu's chest and made no move to pull off his cock. Not yet. Not quite yet. He pressed half-hearted kisses into whatever skin his face was mashed against and didn't think about much of anything. There was just that warm breeze coming in through the window and crickets' call in the night and Karamatsu's ragged breaths beneath him. Just warm arms around his waist, drawing him closer, and that sense of bone-deep satisfaction that only came from good sex with an even better partner. Chibita kissed Karamatsu's skin again and sighed.

It was the perfect time of year for making love.

#karabita #charity fic #fic stuff

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