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sailorhyunjinz · 3 years

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𝕴𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕷𝖔𝖘𝖙 𝕾𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖘 𝐈

Pairing; Bartender!Changbin x Fem!reader (she/her pronouns)

Warning ; ANGST!! SMUT!! skz side characters, semi-slow burn, hurt/comfort, strangers to lovers, depiction of mental disorders, consumption of alcohol, under the influence, self hatred, complicated family relationships, depersonalisation/derealisation, depression, alternative universe, implications of su-cide, semi su-cide attempt, su-cidal!reader, mentions of bl-od and injury, mentions of k-dnapping and murder, alcoholism, mentions of selfh-rm, mentions of knifes, gaslighting, smoking, mentions of weapons, mentions of pregnancies, a bunch of crying, fainting, toxic masculinity.

𝘕𝘚𝘍𝘞 ; piv, protected sex (use of condom), missionary, dry humping, nicknames, sex in semi-public place, fingering, corruption kink if you squint, orgasm (m/f), cum,,,, other then that it’s kinda vanilla.

𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 ; 14.3 k

O N E ｜ T W O

From one survivor to another; cheers you guys.

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ Playlist ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

[FEEL SOMETHING DIFFERENT - Bea Miller, Aminè]

[Multi-Love - Unknown Mortal Orchestra]

[Beach Baby - Bon Iver]

[High Enough - K.Flay]

[Dope Lovers - DPR IAN]

[Make Out in My Car ; Sufjan Stevens Version - Sufjan Stevens]

[I Feel it Coming ; The weekend, Daft Punk]

[Space Song ; Beach House] (ah the loml and the album is called depression cherry so it makes me happy)

𝘊𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥.

𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘰𝘧 18.

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈 ; 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐲

“Let me out!! LET ME OUT!”

You cry out, banging on the heavy wooden door until your knuckles bruise, red marks leaving their traces on your soft skin. The only lightsource is the tiny cell window, sun shining brightly and illuminating thousands of dust specks, floating around you like your lost hopes. The grey cement walls got closer and closer, seconds ticking in your head like a clock.

This is it.

This is how you die.

Crushed to death like a bug, your ambitions never getting their chance to prove themselves. All that you ever wanted to achieve was an impossibility as you were slowly but surely pressed together in the ever shrinking room.

Salty tears roll down your cheek, a feeling of hopelessness washing over you as you turn your back against the door, sliding down to your feet, banging the back of your head lightly against the entrance.

You feel the rough walls hitting both sides of your forearms, a last ear deafening scream leaving your parted lips.

Until you woke up.

With a series of jerking motions you sit up, panting like you just ran a marathon, the pounding of your heart audible to you. Darkness swallowed you as the night progressed, you considering yourself lucky to find yourself in your comfortable bed, still in your room.

Only after minutes do you notice your wet cheeks, the tears not being limited to your dream world. You blink, your coated eyelashes weighing heavy on your eyelids as you wipe tears with the back of your hand. The shock from your dream didn’t reside, you now being too afraid to fall back on your plushy pillow, fearful of what horrible dreams awaited you on the other side.

You grab your phone from the nightstand, immediately being hit with a bright light causing you to squint and turn away momentarily.

[Search: being crushed dream meaning]

Multiple articles from all sorts of sketchy websites popped up, you clicking on the first one.

“Stress or emotionally overwhelmed”

You laugh lazily, the dream making sense as you feel yourself slipping back into a peaceful slumber, phone still in hand as the muscles in your face relax, jaw opening, your dream world once again inviting you for a dance.

The sun woke you up with it’s radiant rays shining in your face, the closed blinds barely able to withstand them. Your phone was lying on the floor face down, you must have dropped it while sleeping you thought before rubbing your eyes from any dirt and staring up at the ceiling.

Another day

Another day that I’m here.

You wish you could pull the covers over your head, get lost in your own mind and never deal with the outside world ever again. But you had to.

You picked up your phone from the dusty floor that hadn’t been cleaned for weeks, you simply didn’t have the motivation to do it. The bright phone screen awaked you, you blinked your eyes a couple of times to see clearer.

[3 Missed Calls - Mom]

You couldn’t be bothered to call her back. She was only gonna nag at you for not calling back earlier, wondering what you’ve been up to now that you’ve been fired from your job as a receptionist at the local hotel. What were you gonna say? Drinking too much booze and crying yourself to sleep every night? You couldn’t, that would only hurt her.

Ignorance is bliss, as they say.

You got up, legs wobbling as you stumbled to the bathroom, head pounding from the amount of alcohol you consumed the night prior. Not with friends but alone, in your living room, in the one room apartment you no longer could afford.

Ice cold water splashed onto your sweaty face, that being the only hygiene you could muster today. You turned the tap off, grabbing a towel and wiping your face and looking deep into your own eyes.

That’s not me.

That’s not me looking back.

You poked your tongue out, hoping the figure in the mirror wouldn’t move and you could confirm your thoughts but alas the figure followed you. You felt crazy, it was as if you’ve died a long time ago but still saw everything that happened. You could stick your hand through a wall and it would disappear you thought, nothing was real. Not even you.

You entered your mess of a living room, seeing the wreck from yesterday night. Countless green glass bottles scattered on the table in front of the tv that was your only escape from reality. Blankets and pillows were thrown across the floor along with a box of tissues, your emotions bubbling up to the surface too often resulting in you crying and shaking on the floor, a feeling of fear washing over you late at night.

You felt alone.

But you weren’t.

Fuck, why were you so ungrateful? You had everything. A roof over your head, a family that loves you, friends, food on the table. Yet, even this couldn’t satisfy you. You blamed yourself for everything.

For your work firing you.

For your parents divorcing.

For your own pathetic life.

You shook your head as if you were shaking the negative thoughts out of your head, instead grabbing a couple of the empty bottles that were reeking with the scent of liquor and placing them on the kitchen counter. ‘Cleaning up’ in your eyes.

With a thump your back landed against the couch that swallowed you, engulfing you in a comforting embrace you got from no other person or object. This was your safe space you thought but not even your couch could save you from your intrusive reasonings. With a light click on the remote the tv screen lit up, your eyes still not used to the brightness since you’re always cooped up in your apartment where the blinds were always closed, another barrier between you and reality.

Nature documentaries, your favorite.

The calming male voice of the narrator being the only one you talked to during your lonely days. The animals could make you forget. They lived so freely, moving wherever they wanted without a care in the world, either swimming, hopping or flying. You wish you were born as another animal than human.

“The 52-hertz whale travels an astonishing 70 km a day but it’s voyage doesn’t bring social interactions. This whale is the loneliest whale in the world. It’s the only whale that is capable of emitting a whale call at such frequency, no other individuals communicating with the poor creature.”

You sat up in curiosity. It was a scream for help you thought. The whale needed help, it needed someone or something.

Just like you.

You sighed, watching the lonely whale on your tv screen, seeing it’s gracious movements despite its size. It did look lonely in that deep dark sea, wondering how it would be to fall into the abyss of water, swallowing you whole and erasing the life that once sparked your soul.

This was where you spent your entire days. The clock on the wall is ticking but the digits it displayed are oblivious to you. What did it matter if it was 5 pm or 1 am? You were still not gonna budge from your comforting seat on the couch. Drinking your feelings away no matter what time in the day.

This was you.

This was who you had become.

The sun started to set on the horizon, a delicate shade of light purple descending over it, covering the end of the world like the way a canopy covers the softness of a bed. You sigh, diverting your focus back on the tv screen after momentarily observing the life outside your window. Yet again, nature documentaries accompanied by the soft male voice, narrating every movement of the colibri that fluttered it’s wings at the speed of light on your screen in vivid colors.

You got that look in your eyes. That look of amazement which you now only had when looking at the beautiful colors of a exotic bird. You moved closer to the tv screen in the now dark living room, the sun setting at a fast pace. It reminded you of the many times your mom shouted at you to not sit so close to the screen, scaring you by saying that you’d get rectangular eyes.

Your childhood.

The only time you felt ease.

The only time your family was as one.

“y/n, what does your heart look like?” the therapist asked, scribbling mindlessly on a notepad.

“it’s a muscle that pumps blo-” you started but were quickly cut off.

“no, I mean what does your heart look like, how does it feel?”

You sighed, looking down at the grey marbled floor, your legs shaking in nervousness. You hesitated before speaking, scrambling in your mind to say something sensible before the words came pouring out of you.

“i-it looks like a house. A dark, empty house,,, but it’s comforting.”

Once again you heard the sound of a pencil writing incoherent sentences. Curious as to know what secrets were on that piece of A5-paper.

“is there anyone in the house with you?” the therapist inquired.

You shook your head before speaking.

“I don’t want to let anyone in, this is my safe space” you say, almost setting up an emotional barrier, not wanting to answer further questions.

The person sitting across from you hummed as you stared out the window behind them, the green ivy bushes already grown tall enough to cover half of the grimy window.

“is the house empty?” they asked to which you shook your head once again, avoiding the glassy-eyed stare of the therapist.

“no,,, there are dusty furniture covered in white cloths and-,,, and family photos in the drawers.”

“is it your family?”

You shook your head in disagreement.

“How did you end up here?”

You thought for a second, puffing out your cheeks, a habit of yours. You searched for a reason but not finding any.

“I just,,, was here one day.”

“The sun never shines here.” you added after a solid 30 seconds of silence.

You were stuck in that house.

The house that was once filled with happy memories of another family, you simply a ghost that was now trying to fit the broken pieces together, wanting desperately to see them smiling again.

Tears started forming in your eyes, a shiny gloss over your orbs.

But you never cried.

Not in front of others.

You thought often about that visit. Why your heart was an desolate house and why the words spilled out of you like a poisonous liquid.

You closed your eyes, the bright colors fluttering behind your eyelids as the comforting sounds of the woods blasted from the tv.

You wish you could be somewhere else.

Anywhere but here.

A single tear rolled down your cheek as a smile creeped up on your face, your butt against the floor as your knees were underneath your chin, your entire figure curled up into a small ball.

You sighed as your eyes fluttered open again. You were still here, in your apartment that smelled like nothing but alcohol and disappointment.

Firmly planting both your hands on the wooden floor you heaved yourself up with the intention of getting more tissues, the blue colored tissue box on the floor being as empty as others expectations of you.

But as you stood up the entire room started spinning, small specks of rainbow flashing by your eyes. You thought you stood up to quickly grabbing onto the wall for a second before collapsing against it, your entire body shaking. You cried louder, thinking you were about to pass out. Your hair stuck to your tear stained cheek as your puffy eyes closed once again.

What was happening?

The rain hit your unconscious body, your knees scraped from the concrete you lied on. You were soaked from head to toe, lying with your cheek against the ground in a puddle of rain. You woke up from your head pounding, your bloody knees only gaining your attention after you’ve looked around in a confused daze.

It was empty. An alleyway in the dark night. You found yourself panicked, anxiety bubbling inside of you. That’s when you saw it. A single street light above a red phone booth. You tried to stand up but fell over again as your legs could barely hold you up, now scraping your elbow against the gritty ground.

Crying out, you started shouting for help.

“HELP!! SOMEBODY HELP!”

You screamed at the top of your lungs, voice cracking as your tears started to look identical to the rain that was pouring over your cold, helpless body. Nobody came, your voice only echoing against the wall that the phone booth stood near to.

You got on all fours, crawling towards the light as pure pain shot through your body, small pebbles jabbing into the open wounds on your knees. You needed shield from the rain. Desperate huffs and groans escaping your parted lips as you dragged yourself through small puddles, the phonebooth seemingly getting further and further away from you. Looking through the soaked curtains that was your hair you were determined, this was life or death you thought as you continued to shout out for help, it appeared to be useless since the only other sound besides your own voice was the rain hitting the ground.

Shivering hands grabbed onto the corner of the crimson red phonebooth, the streetlight illuminating your teary eyes. You held onto that frigid and wet piece of metal as if you were holding onto a treasure.

As if you won a race.

As if you pleased your parents.

You looked up, dragging the inner side of your leg against the concrete, your pyjama pants wet to the bone. Desperately you got yourself together, your arms shaking as the rough pads of your hands met the ground, pushing yourself up into a standing position. You hissed at the pain in your knees as you grabbed onto the metal handle that opened the phonebooth, stepping inside.

The inside was surprisingly warm, as if someone had been there moments prior. A ripped piece of paper was taped on the glass pane to the right of the payphone, something that seemed like a phone number but could impossibly be since it wasn’t a full number.

[1800-xxx]

You looked at the payphone and then back at the washed out paper, the edges of the note curling and stained with yellow. Only when you looked back at the phone again did you notice the keypad. To your surprise there was an “x” button. Your head felt heavy, deciding to lean it against the other side of the stuffy phone booth, your hot breath creating steam on the glass.

You wanted to wake up from this nightmare.

Your entire body ached, let alone the blood that was dripping down your leg. The rusty payphone connected to the actual phone, a black handle connected to the underside of the machinery by a coiled metal rope. You picked up the phone, putting it against your ear and groaned when you remembered that you needed coins in order for the payphone to work

[0.5 gold/minute]

You rubbed your eyes. Gold? You sighed loudly, your knees barely being able to hold your weary body any longer. Hesitant fingers pressed the number that was jot down on the lined note, pressing each key accordingly. You pressed the last x before you pressed the “call” button, not expecting anything to happen.

But after a few seconds a female automated voice spoke to you.

“Thank you for calling. This place only appears to the suffering. If you are receiving this call, congratulations! Your prayers have been answered. Drink the liquid in the paper cup above this payphone. Drink the liquid. Drink the liquid. Drink the liquid.”

The voice lagged, a static sound accompanying the automated voice. Your breath got shaky as you looked around, holding the phone close to your ear with both hands. This could only be some sort of kidnapping scheme or this was a sick dream.

“It’s a dream, y/n. Calm down, nothing's gonna hurt you.”

You muttered to yourself, pinching your forearm tightly and wincing from pain. This wasn’t a dream after all.

Your gaze landed on the brown paper cup that was balancing delicately on top of the payphone, your cracking knuckles reaching for it as you let the phone fall out of your grasp, being caught mere inches from the sticky floor of the photobooth by the coil. Bringing the cup closer to your face you saw a dark viscous liquid that smelled sweet enough to sting your nose. Your face contorted into disgust, debating on whether not to drink the contents of the paper cup.

“Drink the liquid. Drink the liquid. Drink the liquid.”

The voice continued ringing in your ears. You had nothing to lose. If you died then you at least got what you wanted. Holding your breath, you brought the cup closer to your quivering lips, parting them slightly as you held your nose tightly, not wanting to feel whatever horrible taste could be found in that dark pit of goo.

It burned the moment it hit the delicate taste buds on your tongue, your voice muffled as the fluid descended down your throat, your larynx bobbing up and down with each gulp. Despite covering your nose you could taste the pungent sweetness, it tasted like pure acid. Not that you knew what that tasted like but what you assumed it would.

You coughed, accidentally spilling some of the goo on the floor, dribbling out of your mouth. The heavy rain pitter-pattered against the metal roof above your head, your eyelids threatening to shut. The cup fell out of your hand as you slammed your forehead against the payphone, not hard enough to bleed but hard enough to bruise. Your jawbone hurt from how much you’d been crying, eyes puffy as the salty tears mixed with the rain droplets on your face.

“i-i’m sorry mom, i’m so fucking sorry.”

You rolled your forehead left to right against the rusty material of the payphone, your soaked hair covering your empty eyes. Your knees bent under you causing you to fall on your butt with your knees clinking against each other, the sticky contents on the floor sticking to the soft fabric of your pants.

“I’M SO SORRY!”

You never thought a scream this loud could protrude its way out of your throat, the vibrations bouncing off the glass that to your surprise didn’t break. Everything started to become shades darker, almost as if a black and white filter settled over your vision.

No, this is how you’re gonna die.

Alone.

In the rain.

“Hyung, what are you gonna do with her?”

Muffled club music struck your ear along with a high pitched ringing, your eyelids felt as heavy as they’d been in the phonebooth. With your head pounding you slowly open your eyes, first not seeing anything but darkness before eight unknown men form a circle around you, hovering above you.

You shoot up from your lying position, fear overtaking your body. Where were you but more importantly why the fuck were you alone in a dark room with 8 young men? Not thinking straight, you decided to scream once again, thinking they would back off and let you be.

“Get away from me!!”

The males covered their ears, groaning in pain and a blonde boy throwing himself on the floor, rolling around.

“HEY!! HEY! WE’RE NOT GONNA HURT YOU!”

A strong voice overpowered yours, every word almost sounding like a grunt. You around, seeing that you were sitting on a soft leather couch before looking up at the male that was standing right infront of you. He was muscular, his biceps sitting snugly in the tight black t-shirt that covered him, a grey apron tied around his waist and his dark hair shielding his intense gaze and furrowed eyebrows. He had a jaw so sharp you could cut silence with it but silence was the last thing this room had. The boys were shouting at each other, trying to hush the others while screaming themselves.

“SHUT UP!!”

The room got quiet as the muscular guy roared, the seven other individuals coming to a halt. You looked at them all with a puzzled expression, all of them handsome, a fact you couldn’t deny.

“Where the fuck am I, who are you guys and p-please don’t kill me”

Your voice cracked at the end of your sentence as your eyes twinkled, tears teasing the corners of your eyes, fingers shaking in fear. The male closest to you sat down, the weight of the couch shifting. He rubbed his hand together before he started speaking in a calmer voice.

“I’m Changbin, bartender of the Lost Souls nightclub. That’s Chan, security guard.”

With his chin, he pointed at a guy in ripped black jeans with a white t-shirt, a sweatband across his forehead, pushing his slightly curly hair back. He didn’t look like a security guard, the only thing that might have pointed to that was the walkie-talkie hanging from his belt. You nodded before Changbin continued.

“And those are some friends, frequent visitors if you will.”

A light haired boy with shiny rhinestones under his eyes stepped forward after he’d been hugging the tallest guy in the room the entire time.

“u-uhm, the name’s Felix! This is Hyunjin, Seungmin, Jeongin, Jisung and Minho, and yeah those two, Chan and Changbin.”

He pointed at each guy respectively and the room filled with small “hi’s” and smiles. They didn’t look threatening, all of them being very timid and looking down at the ground. Your gaze diverted back to Changbin that was staring at you the entire time.

“Can somebody tell me where I am?”

Changbin cleared his throat, stomping his boot a couple of times.

“This is gonna sound,,, interesting but you have to believe me-”

You interrupted the muscular boy, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear, noticing that it had dried.

“Why should I believe you? We’ve just met?”

Changbin sighed.

“Just,,, hear me out”. You nodded before he continued.

“You answered a phone call right?”

Nodding once again your gaze drifted towards the other boys that were looking at Changbin with googly eyes.

“Well,,, this place only appears to those who are,,, struggling with themselves. Obviously you don’t have to tell us why you’re here but,,, this is a place to let go. The only rule here is no fighting”

“Or dancing on the tables” the tall blonde boy added with a snark causing a squirrel-like boy to giggle, playfully hitting the blonde before looking at Chan who glared back at him, the boy being flustered and turning serious again. Jisung, his name was.

“W-what did that phonebooth do,,, does everyone go through that?” you asked with a curious tone.

“Usually it’s a pleasant experience going in that phonebooth, the sun shining and people hanging around that alleyway before taking the phonecall and drinking the elixir,,, there must have been a glitch in the system.”

He sounded unsure, scratching the back of his head as he looked at all of the boys.

“System? What system? I’m dreaming, right?” you said in panic, wanting to get out of this oddly suffocating room.

“W-we are real and you’re not dreaming,,, it’s just that, we can’t meet in real life you know? This is a place to,,, let oneself go and I know it’s scary since you only get here randomly, it must have been hard passing out like that,,”

A boy with fluffy light brown hair and a pretty eye smile said, Seungmin! You remembered his name because you thought it fitted him, sounding both soft and sharp at the same time.

“y-yeah,,, it was scary b-but thank you for caring about me” you said with a half smile

“oh! and also, we treated all your wounds, luckily you were passed out so you couldn’t feel the pain but let me tell you,,, it looked awful, I don’t understand how you did that Chan” Jisung remarked with wide eyes, looking at you concerned before turning to Chan.

“Did what?” you inquired to which Jisung responded.

“Removing the pebbles in your wounds, h-how did you even get those in there?” he asked to which you tried to remember, seeing hazed memories of you crawling on the asphalt in the storming rain.

“I was crawling towards the phone booth'' you said quietly as the boys gazed at you with concern. The atmosphere got dusked and in an attempt to lift the mood you cleared your throat, lightly running your hands over the bandaids that were plastered on your scraped knees, wincing from the contact.

Changbin made eye contact with Chan, jerking his head towards the door to signal for him and the other boys to leave the room. Chan nodded and patted Jeongin on the shoulder, trying to scoot all the boys out of the room like a shepherd leading a bunch of silent sheep.

“Let’s have some fun! Drinks on me boys~” Chan exclaimed to get the boys off their worried thoughts about you, the curly haired male closed the door quietly and both you and Changbin stayed silent until the footsteps were faint on the other side of the black wooden door.

“Is this better?” Changbin said with a slight smile at the end. “They can be quite the bunch sometimes, either they’re very much off the deep end or they’re just a rowdy mess” he laughs, looking out in the distance before he looks at you with your knees under your chin, holding your legs close to your body.

“So,,, we’re all here for similar reasons?” you mumbled, holding your gaze stable on his dark eyes.

“yeah,,, pretty much. We’ve all dealt with something mentally draining and of course you don’t have to tell but I just want you to know that nothing will hurt you here.” Changbin replied.

“I do want to tell,,, but it’s just that I don’t want to be alone about it. I’ve never been around people that have shared the same experiences.”

Changbin slid closer to you on the couch, putting one leg over the other.

“It’s like that for,,, almost every single individual in the club, we all want to tell our stories and this is the place to do it. No one is gonna judge you for it. I remember thinking that when I first got here, ‘everyone is gonna judge me for not drinking’.”

Changbin’s last sentence caught your attention.

“but aren’t you the bartender? shouldn’t you know all the,,, liquors and such?”

Changbin sighed and you regretted you sentence, thinking that maybe you asked a too personal question.

“I do know them but not in the way one should.”

Something clicked in your head when the boy uttered those words. You nodded silently, letting your gaze fall to your wounded knees as your shaky voice spoke;

“So do I”

Changbin’s gaze was fixated on the floor as he shared what was on his mind.

“But no one judged me,,, eh,,, I never asked for your name!” the boy said to which you giggled, reassuring Changbin that you were in a stable state.

“It’s y/n, nice to meet you!” you said, stretching your hand forward to shake his. Changbin smiled towards your gesture.

“pretty name, angel” he said, shaking your hand and noticing how small it was in his grasp, the cold metal of his rings contrasting to your now warm hands. He didn’t let go immediately, instead holding your hand and feeling it’s warm temperature, running his thumb across your knuckles softly. You snarked at his comment.

“angel? didn’t know we had established pet names for each other in barely 10 minutes of meeting.”

“and I didn’t know angels landed in this place” he said back. “i’ve had to deal with 7 annoying boys that never listen to me,,, well, 8 but one of them,,, disappeared.”

You nodded, not wanting to overstep any boundaries by asking about that 8th guy incase it was an emotional topic.

“how is it? working with alcohol despite having quite a rocky relationship to it?”

The buff boy hummed, drumming his fingers on the seat next to him.

“It’s better than one might think. I get to be around it without engaging in the activity myself, simply serving clients and the boys already know it, we look out for each other. Like a family you know!” Changbin said with a happy tone, not wanting the conversation to get you in a bad mood after all you’ve been through that night.

“family,,, could use one of those” you joked and Changbin actually laughed which you’ve never felt with anyone before, the only response you usually got was your therapist writing down your self deprecating jokes with their orange lead pencil.

“you’re always welcome to us” he said, letting go of your hand that now felt empty. You felt safe. There was no way of describing it but you felt this caring aura around this man, drawing you closer to him.

“how long does this last? i’m guessing you go back to ‘the real world’ again at some point” you spoke, making quotation marks with your hands.

“it depends, it’s different every time but you will pass out just like you did when you got here but you won’t go back to the phone booth, you’ll wake up where you were last in real life. Time goes on in the real world but here,,, clocks don’t really work. We’ve tried bringing clocks or phones with us but the digits don’t change.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. This had to be a dream.

“w-whats with the gold on the phone? Does money exist in this,,, universe?” you asked with confusion to which Changbin shook his head.

“no, drinks are free and so are the phone calls, i have no idea why the phone booth says that or why Chan said that drinks are on him, he must have been stressed trying to get the boys out of here” Changbin said to which you giggled.

“i-is there any time where you never return?” you asked, earning a bittersweet smile from the male.

“yeah,,, if those issues you have get resolved but,, that rarely happens. Destructive behaviours feed of each other. Get rid of one and it gets replaced with another.”

You recognised that. It was always something, you could never live in peace without feeling the need to self sabotage.

“Poor innie knows that too well” he added with an acerbic tone.

“innie?” you tilted your head in question, gazing around the dark room that was rather empty, only a couple of dark colored shelves on the wall and the couch you were sitting on along with the ceiling lamp that was stingy with it’s light.

“Jeongin, the youngest among us. Poor boy has been through it all, if it’s not drugs it’s self harm and Minho is a real dick sometimes, bringing pocket knives in “defense”. He’s delusional, thinking everyone is out to get him and Jeongin knows this. We’ve found our precious little boy in the bathroom too many times, holding those stupid knifes Minho keeps having on him and crying till his cheeks puff up.”

You took a mental note to keep your distance from Minho, feeling bad for Changbin that had to be amidst this mess while dealing with his own emotions. You could relate, being the emotional pillar between your parents that hated each other to the brink of physical violence. There’s always someone that has to suffer because of other people's problems.

“I’m so sorry to hear that, Changbin.” you managed to stutter out, not knowing what else to add to the conversation.

“Ah,,, don’t be, y/n! Just take good care of yourself, that’s what matters the most to me” Changbin said. You smiled, moving closer and hovered your hand above his shoulder.

“Can I?” you asked quietly to which Changbin nodded and moments later felt your warm hand patting his back. He felt listened to. Understood. And even though he was yet to tell you his entire life story he knew that you were different from the others. You actually cared about him.

The room started spinning again and you clutched onto Changbin’s black t-shirt, trying to stabilize yourself. Those rainbow colored speckles you had seen earlier appeared again, vision blurring right in front of your eyes.

“y/n? how are you?” Changbin’s voice was worried but he knew what was happening.

“it’s spinning again, I t-think I’m gonna pass,,, out” you muttered,

“It’s alright y/n, I’m here yeah?” His rough voice distinguished itself from his comforting words as you held onto the dark haired boy, a faint smell of tobacco interlacing with the air you breathed in through your nose. Your two arms were now wrapped around the male with your face against his broad shoulder, eyes shutting as tightly as they could, face contorting into fear until everything disappeared. The vague beats of the music. The pain that ached from your knees. The feeling of finally finding home in someone's arms.

Everything turned into nothing in Changbin’s embrace. You were slowly turning into his everything because he had nothing in his life.

And then you woke up.

You gasped for air as you woke up in panic, hunching over on the floor in a coughing fit, clawing at your neck for oxygen. Panting on the floor you put your forehead against the wooden laminated floorboards, your frizzy hair blocking out the little light that was in the apartment and being hit with the malodorous smell of distilled alcohol.

What was that?

You were convinced that it was some kind of wicked dream. An escape from reality even. But as Changbin said, you did wake up in the exact same place and position you passed out in. A long breath seized through your lungs as you shifted in your position on the floor.

“Son of a bitch!”

Tears prickled the corners of your eyes as the hard floor hit your wounded knees. You quickly sat down on your butt, lifting your knees up to your chin and only then did your heart drop.

It wasn’t a dream. Your eyes lingered on the bandaids that were placed with the utmost care across your both knees, a stain of dark brown blood seeping through the sticky elastic material and dried blood staining your knees in a haphazard attempt of somebody trying to wipe it off without hurting you. You managed to grab the edge of the sofa, levering yourself up with, testing out the strength left in your wobbly legs. Your phone lit up, sitting on the place you’re usually curled up in. Throwing yourself on the soft piece of furniture you observed the phone screen, lost eyes wandering mindlessly over the brightly lit display.

What you noticed wasn’t the worried text from your mother.

It was the fact that the digits hadn’t changed from when you passed out.

Your head snapped towards the tv screen and the phone fell from your hand when you stared at the screen, breath trembling.

The same documentary. The same colibri.

This couldn’t be. Surely you hadn’t just stopped time,,, right? This was not something Changbin warned you about. How long until you meet Changbin again? An hour,,, or ever?

There was nothing else you could do besides wait. Wait until the next time you pass out. And what better way to make time pass but to be confronted by your mother? You pulled up the text on your phone and read it hastily before scoffing.

[Are you eating well? Please call if you see this]

Since when did she care about you? You knew that she did care. Somewhere deep inside her motherly heart she did care but the way she displayed that so-called ‘affection’ didn’t make it obvious. You tried to justify every word, believing all the lies she fed you. You tried so hard to believe that you were healthy, that your mental health wasn’t deteriorating before the eyes of your very own mother that was refusing to see the truth. That her child was indeed in pain. You couldn’t blame her, it was her way of dealing with the issue but it didn’t make it easier for you. Your thumbs hovered above the keyboard, you couldn't think of anything better to write and quickly typed it down before you hit send.

[yes, i’m busy]

Busy contemplating your existence. Your father wasn’t exactly any better. Throwing out each one of your family members until there was only him left. He had no trouble filling that emptiness, simply creating a new family and forgetting you as if you were a chapter of the book called ‘previous life’. You didn’t mind, not after everything he did to you and your mother. There was no need for a person like that in your life but unfortunately it influenced you more than you thought, always seeking validation in either work or relationships because how could you validate yourself after your self esteem had been crushed by this tyrant?

You threw your phone on the table, a clink noise being heard as it hit a bottle, knocking it over but not breaking it. Your parental issues or mental health was for once not the biggest concern in your life, now instead wanting to search for the answers that could explain the nightclub. How did it exist? What caused it to exist and who was behind it? You needed to get back there somehow.

The tv had turned off by itself, you found yourself waking up on the couch, using a pillow as a blanket, hugging the warm material closer to your body as you whined. With confused and lost eyes you scanned the room for a clock, hitting the table a couple of times and finally getting your hands on your phone, bringing it closer to your eyes.

[3:02 am] the digits lit up. You rubbed your tired eyes with your left hand, throwing the pillow on the floor and using the phone display as a torch in the pitch dark room. There was no point in falling asleep again, you had already slept so many hours, sleeping anymore would only make you drowsy the entire next day. You yawned as you staggered towards the bathroom, flicking the lightswitch on the wall and squinting fiercely as you were blinded by the harsh bathroom ceiling light. You put the phone down and quickly caught your reflection in the mirror before you sat down on the toilet to pee, folding a couple of sheets toilet paper in your hand. You yawned again as you flushed, going to wash your hands but once again being amused by your reflection.

That’s not me.

It’s the person I’ve become but never wanted to be.

Your dark circles almost reached your cheekbones, the wounds on your knees still stinging even after hours of peaceful slumber. You poked your tongue out to which the reflection did the same, staring back at you with frizzy hair and puffy eyes from tears. You couldn’t trust it. Mirrors lie you thought and so does every single reflective surface in the entire world. You would never know what you truly looked like and that ignited panic in you, feeling your breath rapidly increasing as you held onto the white cold edge of the bathroom sink.

This happened. Too often. It was the feeling of not knowing yourself or your surroundings. Like you had just appeared in this world, scared and alone. To not know who you are and having to live with yourself til the day you die frightened you. But you didn’t know if death was any better. Sure, the thought was comforting but being buried under layers of soil, having flowers and insects living their best life above you as you simply rotted away wasn’t the solution to all your worries although a moment of eternal peace did sound tempting.

You felt a lump in your throat, trying to cough as if it was some sort of anxiety flem when in reality it was your brain setting up imaginary barricades. Your hair draped in front of your face and with furious eyes you peeked up, seeing your almost demon-like expression and smiling psychotically.

I hate you.

I fucking hate you, y/n l/n.

Your smile was wiped off the moment the room started spinning. Your reflection becomes diffuse in the mirror as if it wasn’t enough not recognising it. A loud gulp made its way down your esophagus as you continued staring at yourself in disgust. You blinked slowly, every time you closed your eyes you saw those rainbow colored specks all around, almost as if they were distracting you from what was happening, like a kaleidoscope for a child. You felt as if the ground started shaking, an earthquake in your personal world that was separated from the real one. Maybe you were going back to the nightclub, to Changbin’s reassuring arms or maybe you we’re really going crazy this time. The specks got bigger, turning into elaborate patterns in neon colors that clouded your vision. You kept eye contact with your reflection for what seemed like forever, despising the person that was staring back, your gaze broken as your eyes rolled back in your skull, your eyes white as if you’d been hexed before you collapsed on the frigid bathroom floor.

“y/n? y/n, wake up!”

The sun dazed your eyes as you woke up on the slightly toasty concrete. Changbin tilted his head as a cigarette was hanging out the corner of his mouth, bright sunlight behind him. He had on a jean jacket with patches from several underground punk and rock bands, his neck was embellished with multiple silver chains and his hair was slicked back, glistening in the heat. He knocked the wind out of you even more, as if passing out in the bathroom wasn’t enough torture.

“oh y/n! you’re awake!”

Chan says, coming closer to you, this time he’s wearing a tanktop that showed off his flawless abs, your mouth watering at the sight. You only then remembered that you looked like a mess, still in your pyjamas that consisted of an old sports event t-shirt and small basketball shorts.

“a-am i in the club again?” you say, rubbing your eyes with both hands before feeling your head pounding a bit, sitting up slowly and feeling the harsh ground beneath you.

“no! you’re at the phone booth, everyone is here now oh and, this is usual how it’s supposed to look.”

After your vision stops blurring you look around, seeing the same alleyway and the same crimson phone booth but being hit with a completely different atmosphere. People were standing in all types of fancy clothes, trendy bright colors, exaggerated makeup and 7 inch platforms. The sun was beaming, it felt like a hot summer day with friends, just like the old days back when you had friends.

“why does y/n always wear pyjamas? don’t you have any cool clothes?” Hyunjin snarks, pushing his blonde hair behind his ears, displaying his dangly silver and black earrings.

“knock it off asshat, the poor girl is probably scared off her mind” Seungmin sneaks up behind the blonde, punching him lightly in the stomach before he smiles sweetly at you. Duality was this man's second name.

“t-thank you seungmin” you said, giving a smile back but being met with a surprised facial expression.

“you remembered my name!” he said, giggling adorably. You gave a small nod before you looked back at Changbin that was drawing a breath from the cigarette, puffing out a white cloud close to your face before waving it away. You noticed how tired Changbin looked, his cheekbones sunken in and his complexion bleak. He stretched out his hand to help you up which you grabbed, the insides between his pointer and ring finger being slightly stained orange from tobacco. You wobbled up on your feet, knees slightly unstable but feeling better from sitting down a while.

“are you alright y/n? i could open that resting room if you want” he said before inhaling smoke once again, spreading in his mouth and intoxicating him. You shook your head.

“i want to see the club, why not while we’re there you know?” you said, smiling brightly and making his heart jump. Changbin hid the grin he so desperately wanted to display by dropping the cigarette bud on the concrete, stepping on it with his heavy boots that had chain details attached.

“alright, whatever you want angel” Changbin sneered which caught the attention of the 7 other boys, all staring at the jean-jacketed boy.

“angel? seems like someone has a crush” Hyunjin remarked making Jisung burst out in laughter.

“says master heartbreaker” Chan said under his breath making Hyunjin furrow his eyebrows, diverting his gaze from Changbin to Chan instead.

“come on you guys! can we not go to the club already?” Felix said, him also wearing a crop top along with a leather chest harness that accentuated his figure. Jisung nodded and made his way towards the phone booth that had droplets of steam on the inside, Felix and Hyunjin following shortly after the squirrel-like boy. You observed the alleyway. People leaning against the grey wall where the phone booth was, either smoking or chatting. Some were standing, others sitting down directly on the concrete, feeling the same heat you felt as you woke up.

With unstable steps you walked towards the phone booth behind all the boys, Changbin staying by your side and waving his hands towards the 7 boys that had somehow crammed into the humid and stuffy metal building, Chan closing the glassdoor as a couple of the boys giggled. You and Changbin stood on the other side of the door, seeing how Chan grabbed the black phone you had once held with cold dirty hands and Seungmin giggling as he took a sip out of the contents in the paper cup, passing it around to the others that did the same.

They disappeared right in front of you. Your mouth stood agape. They didn’t pass out, they just disappeared into thin air, leaving the airless crimson structure empty yet again.

“w-wait, why didn’t they pass out?” you asked, turning to Changbin as you ran a hand through your hair.

“it happens when you’re new. the body isn’t used to the entire,,, universe switch so you will probably pass out this time also but don’t worry, i’ll catch you”

Changbin grinned, opening the door and being hit by the lack of oxygen. He held the door open for you to which you smiled, stepping inside and seeing that the paper cup had been refilled automatically. The door closed behind Changbin, you standing in close proximity to the boy as you lifted the phone slowly, still feeling the warmth from Chan’s hand. The dark haired boy grabbed the brown paper cup, not even looking at the goopy substance before drinking it, seeing his adam's apple bob up and down. You put the phone towards your ear, wondering why you didn’t hear the female automated voice.

“it doesn’t work?” you said with confusion to which Changbin smiled, pressing in the infamous number on the rusty keypad.

[1800-xxx]

“yeah, it doesn’t if you don’t type in the number” he chuckled, holding the paper cup in both hands and leaning against the humid glass.

Suddenly you hear the voice you were dreading the hear.

It reminded you of that night. That dark rainy evening. The voice started to lag, just like it did last time. You hung up and turned around whereupon you saw Changbin handing you the paper cup. You gulped and put your lips on the edge of the cup, looking at him with unease but feeling comfortable with his presence. You tilted the cup, feeling the sweetness trickle down your throat, almost stinging your insides. Changbin smiled, he looked like the typical bad boy from every cliché teen movie but it made your heart flutter, slightly embarrassed at the state of yourself. He pushed away from the glass wall and swiped his thumb across the corner of your mouth, wiping off the sweet liquid and licking it off the tip of his thumb. You stood there, frozen at the sudden action, gazing softly at him.

“you had something there” he chuckled as you started to feel lightheaded again, your eyelids getting heavy.

“thanks” you said shortly, your gaze drifting down on the dirty floor beneath your feet, drifting in and out of consciousness.

Changbin didn’t say anything, catching you mere seconds after you collapsed on the grimy surface. Admiring your heavy eyes and puffy cheeks for a second before he himself disappeared into the abyss.

“One Moscow mule, please!”

An unfamiliar voice shouted through the blasting club music accompanied by what sounded like the shaking off a cocktail shaker. You groaned, your eyes fluttering open and being hit by the beams of a thousand light machines in all sorts of colors.

“Oh y/n!!” Jisung shouted on the other side of the bar, you found yourself sitting on a chair in the corner of the bar, on the same side as Changbin that was working diligently, mixing some concoction into a metal shaker. You rubbed your eyes, yawning and wondering how you could sleep sitting up. You heard Changbin set the metal cup down, telling something to the woman beside him, must be his co-worker you thought. He kneeled down next to the chair you were sitting on, looking up at you with curious eyes.

“how are you feeling?” he asked loudly, trying to overvoice the music.

“im good” you answered back just as loud, the two of you locking eyes. Changbin smiled at you with his tired face, glancing over the glasses that were located beneath the bar.

“you want something to drink?” Changbin said to which you nodded.

“give me anything” you said, messing with your hair and sighing. You felt tired, an urge to sleep despite the loud blaring music. Maybe it was more of an emotional fatigue. A lack of feeling. And that’s usually when you turn to the bottles. Changbin nodded, standing up and returning to his co-worker, starting to grab all kinds of pretty coloured alcohol.

“ay! y/n! come join us!” you heard Felix say, him standing with a glass in his hand, the other boys scattered around the club along with the other troubled individuals. You smiled widely, looking around and noticing the small exit gate connected to the bar. You patted Changbin on the back, him turning around with a grin before you exited through the gate, closing it after you and pushed through the crowd of people, making your way over to the boys.

“y/n, welcome to where you will feel alive” Jisung yelled, spreading his arms and nearly knocking someone in the hand.

It was truly living you thought. Every single way to escape reality was located here whether it would be alcohol, drugs or sex. People dancing and jumping, grinding and rubbing up against each other. In multiple booths there were people making out, touching in unknown places. Many looked outright high, moving as if their body was possessed by some dance god, not knowing how to control their limbs. You could have sworn you saw Seungmin putting a yellow pill in his mouth, smiling mischievously at someone you didn’t know.

So this was letting go.

“y/n! here!” you heard Changbin’s voice call behind you, turning around and seeing him putting a glass of clear liquid onto the stained wooden bar with coasters scattered all around, a couple lime wedges floating around with the ice in the glass.

“vodka tonic, giving you the strong ones” he said, grinning, to which you smiled back, understanding the hint to his personal life through his eyes. The glass was cold against your warm hand since you were in this stuffy environment filled with countless people and without any windows, only a ventilation system that led to nothing. You put the edge of the glass against your lips, taking a sip and swallowing harshly, feeling bitterness that tasted sweet because that’s what alcohol does when it’s consumed on a particularly bitter day. Or life.

The other boys were dancing, Chan mostly hanging around the edges of the nightclub and observing the nightlife. You made your way over to him, taking another sip in order to gain the courage to strike up a conversation.

“Sup? you feeling any better?” he asked before you had the chance to even open your mouth.

“better. why aren’t you enjoying yourself like the others?”

“i mean,,, i’m technically doing my job even though i’m not getting paid for it. i just like to be in charge i guess,,,” he said, getting more and more silent as he spoke. You nodded.

“i do work with stuff in real life as well” he added, to which you raised your eyebrows.

“what do you work with,,, if you don’t mind me asking!” you said, taking another sip of what tasted like Lucifer’s saliva.

“music producer! it’s tiresome but,,, i don’t really need sleep,,, or more like i can’t sleep. lucky there’s energy drinks and naps” he said with a giggle, his dimples displaying as he chuckled, leaning against the black walls of the nightclub.

“must be tough,,, but wait,,, i’ve never heard your music,,, and also shouldn’t you be the DJ then?” you said confused, swirling the liquid in your hand.

“but that’s the thing y/n, all these people, every single person you see in this room lives in another universe”

You gazed at him, Chan looking straight ahead towards the crowd.

“what do you mean by different universes?” you asked to which curly haired boy cocked his eyebrow.

“we will never coexist y/n, when i tell you that we’ve tried to bring our friendships to the real world i really mean it. we will never exist in your life outside of this hub and,,, it sucks.” Chan took a pause before speaking, pondering on what to say next.

“-thats what happened with a friend we had. i’m saying had because we don’t know where they are or what adventures await them. They just,,, disappeared” Chan said mellowly, you humming in response as you took a final sip of the devil’s juice, already feeling your face heating up.

“h-how does one get out of this place,,, forever i mean” you asked, leaning back against the same wall as Chan and looking right ahead as the song changed to a slower, almost psychedelic beat.

“when said person gets help,,, or starts to feel better or when you hit the casket, three options basically” he says with an acerbic smile. “what? Do you like Changbin?” Chan says teasingly. “you’ve been catching glances at him this entire conversation.”

He was right, you had been glancing over at Changbin occasionally, you couldn’t help it. Was it an excuse for you to look at his cute face from a distance or because you cared about him? You laughed it off but Chan turned serious.

“you know that’s it’s not possible.” he says quietly.

“what? what is not possible?”

“a relationship”

You choked on your own saliva, being blinded by the annoyingly bright strobe lights.

“a relat- ya! do you really think I have time for any of that? besides,,, i’m not really interested in Changbin.”

“who said only you should be interested?”

Your eyes widened when Chan said that. No way could Changbin have these weird feelings to you, the feeling shouldn’t be mutual.

“h-has Changbin said something about you?” you asked timidly, gazing over at Changbin that temporarily made eye contact across the club.

“why don’t you ask him yourself? but i’m telling you y/n,, don't get attached, you will get hurt,,, j-just like i did once”

Sure, you understood what Chan meant. Everyone was here for the time being. One day he could disappear if he decided that the life he was living now either isn’t worth it or he takes control and makes something out of it. There comes a time where you are too tired of living the way you do and so you do something about it, no matter if it’s good or bad.

Changbin waved his hand at you, wanting you to join him behind the bar where now Felix was standing and annoying Changbin by tickling him or whispering in his ear as he moved his body with much fluidity. You smiled, waving towards Chan shortly before you once again made your way through the crowd, feeling lightheaded but in a positive way, as if you really were forgetting reality for a moment.

“y/n!! come!!” Changbin yelled, bouncing slightly to the typical house beat that was now playing, barely holding the bottle of gin since Felix was pestering him playfully. Changbin’s co-worker opened the wooden gate for you, smiling sweetly at you and you doing the same back, your gaze drifting down until you notice the red marks around her throat. You were often scared by people. Not by their actions but by their way to cover them up and of course, you were guilty of this too. Looking at these people you would never guess the pain that was going on inside, the surface level happiness really is surface level. You could smile genuinely towards her, you didn’t have to understand everything she was going through but you knew how it was, smiling when bridges are burning in your mind.

Sometimes pretending hurts more.

“Changbin!” you squealed after you had passed by his co-worker, holding the empty glass that was now nothing more but half melted ice cubes and three wedges of bright green lime. Without thinking you put the glass down on his working station and pull him into a tight hug, squeezing your body against his and feeling the warmth radiate off of him. He froze awkwardly in your arms before loosening up, wrapping his arms around you and ultimately taking in your scent that was now mostly pungent with liquor and sleep, a soft scent that Changbin couldn’t get enough off. You felt safe which was rare in a nightclub especially knowing that most people were either high or carrying weapons. But there was something about him that made you feel like home. It felt familiar, like you’d visited his soul. As if the two of you were sharing the same empty house in your heart despite you never letting anyone in, too scared to be hurt again. Maybe you could let Changbin in, maybe he was different.

The hug lasted longer then you thought, his eyes darting all over the stuffy room before he slowly let go, taking a long inhale of the almost addictive smell. The two of you locked eyes, a shy red tinged his cheeks that was only visible due to there being a spotlight just above him.

“can i talk to you for a second?” you asked, rather boldy which was odd. He nodded and grabbed your wrist only to pull you in behind the same black door where you once ended up in, confused and dazed. He let go of you and closed the door behind him, you standing in the middle of the room that now had tiny light standing on the floor, nothing more new then the same old shelfs and black leather couch.

“what did you wanna talk about?,,, figured you maybe wanted to tell me somewhere more quiet”

‘Quiet’ was an overstatement, the music was making the walls shake and even though it was muffled the jumping of hundreds of people could still be heard in the small dark room where you were alone, with him.

“ehm,,, i don’t know really,,,” you stammered, not knowing what else to say.

“is something wrong y/n? Do you need to be alone for a while? i can le-”

“no, thank you,,, i just wanna be with you.” You interrupted him, his eyebrows furrowing when you uttered the last sentence. He stepped closer to you, the soles of his shoes making a pleasant sound against the floor. You lifted your gaze at him, Changbin standing right in front of you. Beauty that could make you drool. His hair was slightly messy, temples sweaty as he had worked and fetched all kinds of bottles for hours, the grey apron marking his title in the nightclub.

“but i’m here with you! Are you playing some sort of prank on me? did chan set this up?” he chuckled with a smirk, throwing a gaze at the door before diverting it back to your glossy eyes.

“n-no,,, Changbin, I want you”

His mind went blank and so did yours.

You don’t know why you said that but it was too late. The cat was out of the bag. It was too late.

“y/n? are you drunk?” he asked, looking at you seriously and putting the back of his hand against your forehead, suspecting you might be getting sick. You shook your head in response.

“no, it was only one drink, you know? i just,,, kinda,, want you”

You grabbed his hand that was still lingering on your forehead and drew it closer to your heart, holding firmly by his wrist. The clothed valleys of your breasts made contact with the rough palm of his hand, Changbin’s eyes still glued to yours. He scoffed loudly.

“and here i was,,, thinking it was some sort of unrequited love”

It felt like his hand turned into thorns, stinging your heart. So he wanted you too.

Changbin’s hand that rested on your boob snaked upwards, grabbing your jaw as he smiled at you briefly, tilting his head and slowly closing his eyes, attaching his rough lips on yours. Your eyes widened before they closed slowly, eyelashes fluttering in a flirty haze. This was how it felt to kiss someone you loved. It was as if a thousand fireworks ignited inside your beating heart, flying and exploding in an array of colors. A pure lightshow.

Your hands made their way to Changbin’s angular face, cupping his cheeks and feeling his sharp cheekbones against the palms of your hands. Your noses accidentally bumped into each other as your heads tilted from left to right, a sensual pace to the kiss to which the dark haired boy chuckled, adding some laughter to the otherwise grave situation that contained the sounds of two lips smooching each other. The music was only adding to the ambiance, Changbin’s hands wandering and exploring territory on your body that was foreign to him but very well-known to you. Your wet tongues danced around to a serenade, his kiss was strong, sure to leave an unforgettable impression on you. You would want him from now on and forever.

You moaned into the kiss as his hands rested on your ass, groping the flesh that was covered by your pyjamas-shorts. This made Changbin cock his eyebrow, pieces of his slicked back hair falling into his face as making him look like a charming 80′s prince. His fingers danced around the elastic band of your pants, fingers hooking and playfully tugging on the string, a silent plea for you to take them off. You smiled against his lips, saliva exchanging in a heavy and steamy kiss, your cheeks growing warmer by the second.

The two figures melted into one as Changbin pulled you closer to his body, feeling his cock poke through the coarse material of his jeans against your lower abdomen. Good to know that he was enjoying this as much as you were. Your hands descended downwards, traveling along his black tight t-shirt, the jean jacket from earlier being god knows where. The contour of his abs made you smirk, you knew what he was hiding beneath these clothes that you ravenously wanted to tear up. You palmed him through his pants, earning a hiss from the male that panted heavily into the kiss.

You broke the kiss, taking a moment to breathe as your lips were separated by a lonely string of saliva. You grabbed Changbin’s wrist, pushing him down on the leather couch as you straddled his lap, feeling his hard-on against your aching wet cunt. You wanted him so bad and here he was, in front of you for only you to devour. Changbin grabbed onto your hips, pinning them down against his cock and leaning forward to reattach his lips on yours, teeth accidentally clicking against each other moments before your sloppy hot tongues met, feeling his tongue against the soft surface of yours. The sound of lips meeting ringed through your ears, your hips grinding against Changbin’s crotch in a steady pace, feeling your neediness grow. Your hands ran along his abdomen, sneaking them up inside his shirt and tugging on the black material of his t-shirt, pulling it above his head. What was hiding underneath his clothes was more than a pleasant surprise. Your lips moved swiftly against his jawline, peppering kisses on his delicate neck as your hands teased the supple skin of his abdomen, feeling the outline of his muscles against your touch.

Changbin placed his hands near your stomach, pulling your oversized sleeping shirt over your head in the same fashion you did moments earlier. You gasped as the fabric danced over your now hardened nipples, freeing your tits. Of course you didn’t wear a bra when you were in the comfort of your own home but you didn’t think anyone would actually undress you, especially not Changbin. He hummed at the sight, cupping your tits in his hands that were covered in metal rings, feeling the coldness against your heated skin. You shuddered, the sensation shooting down to your dripping core. He kneaded them in his hands as you rubbed against his cock, his boner having a visible outline through his pants, you couldn’t help but to fiddle with his belt buckle, undoing it and hearing the clicking sound of the buckle hitting itself. Changbin pulled away from your swollen lips, tapping you on the thigh to step off in order for him to pull his pants down. You moved to the seat next to him on the couch, the leather sticking back as you laid down, lifting your hips up to remove your pyjama pants along with your panties that quickly hid underneath the fussy pants due to it’s rather interesting print, small teddy bears printed on the fabric. You kicked off your shoes, more like slippers that you wore indoors.

Changbin swiftly pulled down his jeans and black boxers in one motion, throwing them close to your pile of clothes at the base of the couch. Your eyes widened, mouth watering at the pure sight of his cock, a pretty bead of precum decorating his slit, contrasting with the crimson shiny tip. A big gulp descended down your esophagus, heat tinging your cheeks. He chuckled from seeing you stare at his member with shiny doe eyes that reflected in the small lamp on the floor.

“You seem,,, intrigued” he chuckled to which you giggled, not believing that you were really in this small room together with him.

“Y-yeah,,, maybe I am” you snarked, moving your gaze to his eyes and smiling. Only on your way upwards his well-sculpted body did you see the boy holding a small blue plastic item. You furrowed your eyebrows when Changbin opened the packet, retrieving a slightly slippery condom from inside.

“Do we even need that?” you laughed before continuing. “I mean if nothing gets transferred to the real world neither should pregnancies or STD’s”

Changbin tsked, rolling the condom onto his veiny cock, turning slightly away from you to avoid your intense eyes.

“Ask Chan, he would know” Changbin said, turning back to you and making his way over to the couch.

“N-no,,, no way.” You shook your head, your mouth agape as your eyes still danced over Changbin’s buff thighs.

“Yup, knocked up a girl” he said, suppressing a laugh. “And that’s why y/n, you never think with your dick”.

“Being completely honest,,, I expected more from Chan, he seems really,,, responsible” you remarked, Changbin hovering over you and placing a soft kiss on your lips, his hands on either side of your figure.

“He is but I think love is his weak spot or more like,,, lack of love. He often confuses love with either sex, money or fame,,, might I even say drugs.”

You simply nodded not knowing what more to add to the conversation, Changbin’s fingers tracing small circles around your nipples, sneaking them down between your legs where your cunt was aching after him. Anything, as long as it was him. His middle- and ring finger dipped into your heat, feeling the wetness between your folds causing you to hold on to Changbin’s sturdy shoulder. Without warning his fingers entered your dripping hole, fingers curling upwards and grazing your g-spot. You flinched, feeling his cold metal rings against your clit. The dark haired boy shushed, reassuring you that you were in safe hands and that he would make you feel good. Nothing else mattered besides you.

His fingers grazed your velvety walls, thrusting up into your cunt with just enough vigor to make you clutch to his bicep, the firm muscles making you swoon. You whined, spreading your legs even wider, your left leg hanging over the leather couch, sticking to your thigh as your body was heating up from arousal. The wet sounds of Changbin’s fingers playing with your cunt along with your soft whimpers were louder than the music outside, you pressing your head back onto the couch, rubbing your hair on the material. Changbin licked his plump lips upon seeing your face contorting into all kinds of lewd facial expressions, his cock needing to feel your warmth wrapped around it. The pad of his thumb played with your clit, laying it flat against the nub and teasing it in small circles causing tears to prickle in the corners of your shut eyes.

“a-are you alright y/n?” he whispered softly in your ear, kissing the shell of your ear. You nodded, your hands cupping your tits, pinching your hardened nipples, adding pleasure and heat to the burning in your core. Changbin pulled out his fingers, putting the slick covered digits in his mouth and watching you with hawk eyes as he lapped up your juices, humming in delight.

“fuck you taste so good angel” he stated, making you blush, covering your face with your hands. Changbin chuckled, tapping the tip of his dick against your swollen clit and aligning himself with your entrance. You moaned from the sensations, wrapping your legs around him to pull him in, you growing impatient the more he teased.

“p-please fuck me Changbin” you said uttered in a faint voice, barely audible due to the music. It was as if his eyes tinged with a dark color, full of lust. His eyes were hooded, looking down at you with half closed lids, sighing loudly with sexual frustration. He wanted to destroy you, make you his but he had to hold onto his composure. Holding you firmly by your hips he slowly pushed the tip of his cock inside you, grunting at the warmness that comforted him. You hissed, biting the inside of your cheek, your nose scrunching up at the feeling of being stretched out by his girthy length.

“can I go all the way? does it feel alright?” he asked. You answered with a small “yes”, more worried about the door being unlocked, anyone could burst through the door in seconds only to witness Changbin fucking you on the couch. That thought was quickly wiped from your mind as his cock stuffed into your cunt, your eyes rolling back into your skull as he slowly thrusts into you, using the hands on your hips as a way to guide him, nailing your cervix with each movement. The tips of his ears turned red, the silver chain around his neck reflecting on the dim light in the room as it rocked back and forward above you. You placed your hands around his wrists, looking boldly into his eyes with, a feeling brewing inside you that was hard to describe. It was titillation mixed with yearning. You knew you got him here. He was safe in your arms. You wanted to save him from everything bad in this world but how is that possible when you can’t even save yourself?

“c-changbin” you said in broken syllables, his thrusts only quickening. “changbin!” you repeated, shutting your eyes tightly, curling your toes in pleasure as a string of pretty moans melodically fell from your mouth along with his name. You couldn’t take it, his cock ramming into you in a both mindful and eager manner causing you to claw at his forearms, nails digging into the soft skin. Your tongues were once again caught in a kiss, the taste of your tongue being irresistible to the boy but not sure if it was your love that was drawing him in or the subtle taste of liquor from earlier. His lips felt parched against your, his tongue gliding on your bottom lip before kissing it, his saliva feeling hot in your mouth. The boy above you pulled away for a moment.

“you’re so pretty like this y/n,, fuck, i think i love you”

You gulped but your silence was soon cut off from Changbin slamming his hips against yours, his cock hitting your that specific spot that made you go crazy, the familiar feeling of your orgasm penting up inside you. You moaned with desperation, the lewd sounds bouncing off the dark colored walls. This was music for Changbin’s ears. His grunts accompanied by your whimpers and the squelching sound of your walls engulfing his dick so tightly, the sounds alone was heaven for him. With every move against your body you felt the well-acquainted smell of cigarettes that you could almost feel in your lungs, an addictive scent.

“i love you too, Changbin” you mumbled, slurring on your words from nervousness, feeling shy even though you were naked in front of him. He smiled, peering down at you as his hair fell from it’s perfect gelled state. You smiled softly at him, his cheeks slowly turning a red that matched his lips. Your moans turned to borderline screams, his cock twitching inside of you as he slowly got closer to his sweet release. Clenching around him, Changbin grabbed bent your legs towards you, gently rolling his head backwards as the pace got quicker.

“i’m g-gonna cum! don’t stop!” you yelped, your heart thumping at the speed of light, tiny sweat droplets forming on your forehead. Changbin reached so deep inside of you causing you to thrash around, fiercely trying to grip to the edges of the couch. The burning in your core got intense, it felt as if a thousand stars were falling at the same time, bursting with amativeness. The sudden feeling of warmth took over your body, a pleasant tingle surging. A breathy moan leaving you stunned, grabbing onto Changbin’s hands that were pushing your knees towards you. Just as your orgasm washed over you like a ton of bricks falling to the ground, your body jolted with the last couple of powerful thrusts, a loud gasp slipping from his lips. His girthy cock released it’s seed into the condom, his hot breath lingering near you.

He let go of your quivering legs, them flopping down on either side of him. Your chest heaved up and down as you breathed through your parted lips. Changbin pulled off, carefully removing the condom and discarding it somewhere on the floor. He snuggled close to you on the narrow couch, pressing his sweaty body against yours, taking a moment to catch his breath before speaking.

“So you love me too?” he chuckled. You turned to face him, looking deep into his dark brown eyes that looked pitch black in the dim light. After a loud exhale you answered him.

“No, I think I can’t live without you” you whispered, rubbing the tip of your nose against his. His stable breath tickled against your chin, your eyes slowly closing as Changbin was observing your features that he found insanely attractive. And it was even more attractive that you were his. But this couldn’t last.

“You know this is not possible y/n” he said with sadness in his voice as he gulped, his adams apple protruding. You knew it, the thing you dreamt of wasn’t possible since the two of you didn’t exist in each other's worlds.

“I feel fucking stupid” you said with closed eyes, sighing after your words. Changbin shook his head.

“Don’t give up that easily y/n, we can try”. He was right but what relationship was only visible in the darkness of a nightclub? Only a promiscuous one. Yet, you didn’t want to give up. Not matter what kind of relationship it was you wanted to be with him.

“So,,, what does that mean? That we are-”

“Dating, I guess” he added shortly, the corner of his lips lifting upwards. It sounded weird in your ears. Dating someone you had only met a couple of times but it felt right. This was where you belonged. In his arms, away from all your demons. He truly cared for you, not like the others. He was unlike those in your life that said that they cared but never wanted to know more than the surface level of your character. He wanted to know everything about you. Your hurt, your sorrows, your pain but also your happiness, your joy and your solace. He wanted to know you.

Your hands trailed up and down his upper arms, his skin feeling soft against your touch. The two of you cuddled like this for a while, Changbin running his hands along your hair, its smell reminding him of a green meadow of millions of flowers in all shapes, colors and sizes. He didn’t want to leave but if he wasn’t back in the bar the boys would start looking for him and the last thing he wanted was 7 boys teasing him for getting it on. You were more than a hookup. More than just a fling.

Changbin stood up, squinting his eyes in order to look for his clothes and finding them scattered all over the room. He pulled his underwear and jeans over his lower body before pulling his shirt over his top half, the black t-shirt sitting snugly around his muscles. He ran a hand through his dark hair, shaking his head before smirking at you. Such a tease.

“Do you have to leave?” you asked with a whiny voice, your arms felt empty once again. He nodded.

“i’m afraid so, don’t want them thinking I've been transported back without them knowing, they get worried but that’s only natural I guess.”

You nodded back, putting your cheek against the leather on the seat, your arm hanging straight down, the back of your hand limp against the floor.

“Get dressed if you want to have some more fun or you can chill here for a moment but I have to warn you, that door doesn’t have a lock” Changbin said, pointing at the only door in the room.

“i’ve already noticed that” you remarked, grabbing your panties and only after you’ve pulled them halfway up your thigh did you see Changbin smirking at you.

“You’re cuter than I thought” he said, pointing at your teddy bear panties with his chin, stepping closer to you. You looked away, biting your lip in embarrassment as you felt his hand on your hair, ruffling it sloppily.

“You’re making fun of me!” you said back with a pout, pulling your pyjama pants over your bottom.

“yeah, because you’re adorable” he said, placing a peck on your lips. You wanted more of him. He was simply addictive.

But not even this universe wanted to see you two together.

Your eyelids got heavier, your eyebrows furrowing at the familiar yet distant feeling. It felt unknown until you saw the small specks clouding up your vision once again.

“y/n? y/n, how are you?” Changbin said with worry, grabbing you by your shoulders and looking at your apathetic gaze. “N-no, y/n, don’t leave now”

You didn’t want to but you didn’t decide when you left.

You harshly held Changbin in your arms, putting your forehead against his shoulder, rubbing against it. Changbin slowly put his hands around you, patting your back as salty tears rolled down your warm cheek, putting wet stains on his shirt.

“shh,,, it’s ok y/n, are you feeling dizzy?” he asked carefully to which you nodded mellowly, your bottom lip quivering as the multicolored boxes of light flashed before your eyes. The room felt unstable, like your legs wouldn’t hold you much longer and they didn’t when you collapsed into Changbin’s arms, him holding you tightly to his chest as your knees buckled. Your voice was unstable, a silent cry pleading to be heard.

“I love you” you whispered in a frail voice. The ear-deafening music from outside was tuning out from your hearing, your words slurring at the end as you repeated yourself for the last time.

“I love y-you”

Changbin was left hugging air, his arms empty as he opened his sparkling eyes. He was close to tears because he was left there. Without you.

“HEY! WHERE IS- oh”

Jisung burst through the black door, the six other boys standing close behind him as they looked around the room, eventually catching eye contact with Changbin.

“She went home” Changbin said softly, letting his arms fall to the sides. Jisung inched closer to him, patting him on the shoulder where your tears were still left as a souvenir of your love.

“She’ll come back, don’t worry about it” Jisung said with a reassuring smile, leading Changbin to the door, out of the room that smelled like sex and tenderness.

“Euw,, what is this doing here? Does nobody know how to clean up?” Felix said pointing at the used condom on the floor. Changbin’s face went cold, stopping dead in his tracks.

“is it yours or something Changbin?” Hyunjin laughed, pushing the youngest, Jeongin, in a fit of laughter.

The room went quiet after Hyunjin’s cold laughter. It was pretty obvious.

“YOU FUCKED HER?” Jisung screamed in Changbin’s ear, making him flinch away and holding his ear in pain. The room filled with all sorts of teasing sounds, everything from “ooh~" to “AYE” in obnoxious voices.

“Luckily he used a condom!” Minho snarled, glancing over at Chan that was ready to beat Minho into pulp. Chan sighed, regretting that he didn’t shove the condom in Minho’s smirky face.

“No but seriously you guys, y/n is more than you think. It’s not just another person I fucked, she actually means something to me.”

Just when Changbin thought he had something special some of the boys started laughing even harder, ruffling his hair and poking his cheeks.

“yeah right,,, what? are you guys dating or something?” Seungmin asked, rolling his eyes.

“yes, i’m serious you guys! I love her,,,” he said with a frown, already missing your touch.

“What idiot gets into a relationship 3 months before they have to go to rehab?” Minho says, retrieving a cigarette from the red packaging in the pocket of his leather jacket.

Oh fuck.

Rehab.

When someone recovers from their pain is when you disappear from the club. You are no longer a lost soul. You are no longer lost within yourself. And that’s when you return to the real world, your real world.

Keeping secrets in a relationship was deceitful in Changbin’s eyes. If you belong to someone you should be as transparent as the liquor he poured into his ice cold glass every evening. He felt guilty. You poured your heart out for him, telling him everything that had hurt for so many years and here he was, pretending. He did that a lot, mainly because he was taught to be a reliable man. It wasn’t manly to feel.

Which is why he left his home at a young age. He didn’t care if he worked a minimum wage job and lived in a destitute area, he was content as long as he didn’t live with his parents. But when you live alone it’s not rare that isolation creeps up on you and strokes your cheek with a feather light touch, inviting you over to a dance with the demons that would soon cloud up your mind. Alcohol was Changbin’s comfort. It was the only one that didn’t fail to reassure him. It was as if the bottles spoke to him, promising him that a life intoxicated was better than the life he was currently living.

And he fell for it.

Every time.

He couldn’t take it anymore, he wanted to live a life that is actually worth living. Change comes from within but he needed help and he had only recently realized that he had a problem, that these toxic liquids were what’s keeping him from chasing the dream life. He didn’t dream of much, just the average life would be more than enough, with someone he loved.

But what was he supposed to do?

Take the step to recover or continue his addiction for the sake of being with you?

The demons whispered softly in his ears.

Life or Love?

Taglist ; @minholuvs @liz820 @skztrashbag @lix-freckle3

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inky-duchess · 4 years

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Lessons Writers can learn from Hamilton

Guess who finally watched Hamilton? I love historical dramas and films and now historical musicals. I am a bigger nerd than before and I can't stop singing My Shot. So what can we learn about writing from Hamilton?

Aaron Burr, Sir

I really feel for Aaron Burr during the beginning of the story. Most of us have dealt with a similar issue: working hard yet somebody is always better than you. Even though Burr is technically the antagonist by story's end, most of the audience does get his point. But the problem with Burr, both by the audience's view and Hamilton's is the fact that he doesn't say what he believes in. La Fayette wants the fall of monarchy and better equality. Hamilton wants to make a place for himself in the world. Eliza wants her family to be happy. Burr tells Hamilton to keep his opinions to himself leading to Hamilton to ask, "Burr, the revolution's imminent. What do you stall for? If you stand for nothing, Burr, what'll you fall for?" Every character should have something they fight for. It endears them to the audience and allows us to stand behind them. Without goals and principles, a character will always just remain a name on a page and a collection of actions without meaning.

A different PoV- a different story.

During the Helpless section of the story, we witness the scene through Eliza Schuyler's eyes. We see her sister Angelica crossing the room to Alexander Hamilton to get him to dance with Eliza. Eliza sees Alexander as an honourable gallant, who has stolen her heart. Then in Satisfied, we see the scene from Angelica's PoV. Angelica is less naïve. She notes Hamilton's recognition of their last name, realizing that he's out to get a rich wife. She also realises that Hamilton will never be satisfied in life and that he's not a great catch socially or financially. "I asked about his fam'ly, did you see his answer? His hands started fidgeting, he looked askance He's penniless, he's flying by the seat of his pants". By showing this scene in dual PoV, we are awaken to both sides of Hamilton, the romantic version and the shrewd politician climbing his way up. By choosing a PoV character to tell a particular part of the story, you are moulding the events to the character's preconceived notions and opinions.

Foreshadowing

Hamilton does one thing exceptionally well. It foreshadows the ending very well. Hamilton repeatedly tells us that he isn't going to throw away his shot. We think it means his shot at rising up from poverty and his chance at notoriety in the Revolution. It starts becoming literal as Philip goes off to his first duel, with Hamilton almost begging Philip to fire his weapon away from his opponent. It doesn't do Philip any good. Later on during the duel against Burr, Hamilton intentionally misses his shot just as his son had only to die when his opponent discharged his weapon, killing him. Burr even called back to Philip's duel while describing Hamilton's affect before their own duel. You only begin to realise how profound the echo of My Shot is.

Alluding to a bigger picture

Hamilton may be a musical with no dialogue but that does not mean that there is no tell in the story. The actors do a great job of alluding to a deeper story behind the lyrics. During his last corporeal scene with Eliza, Hamilton's affect tells us that he at least very much suspects that he is not going to make it back this time. Lin Manuel Miranda's subtle expressions are just masterful. His mouth is saying one thing and his eyes are saying something completely else. In another brilliant Lin moment, the scene where Alexander blows up at Washington after the very first duel, you can see how angry Hamilton is. He is shaking despite his polite, yet curt replies. We don't even have to have the "Don't call me son" exchange. Lin's face tells us everything. Hamilton loves Washington like a father and resents him for rejecting his attempt to defend his name. We do not even have to be told, they showed us. There is always a deeper meaning to what a character does or says.

Your Protagonist is allowed do shitty things

A protagonist is not perfect. Most of the stories we read are narrated by people, who are by definition imperfect. If you look at any story the narrator/protagonist is usually a good person but has flaws or has done some questionable things. Hamilton is the good guy of the story, the protagonist, the hero. He's pro-Revolution, anti-slavery and has a troubled past. Even still Hamilton has an affair. It is not his best move or even the most savoury thing. There is no redeeming reason for him to cheat but even still, the audience either forgives him outright or takes it in their stride. Your protagonist does not have to be squeaky clean. They are allowed to make dumb decisions.

Remember History has its eyes on you

The one thing I often find missing in stories and worldbuilding is the media's/public's opinion on your characters or even the world around them. Hamilton hits the nail on the head. Your characters have no say on how they are perceived by their peers or the world around them. It is an interesting component to add in any narrative. What does the public say about your characters and world? "And when you're gone, who remembers your name? Who keeps your flame? Who tells your story? Who tells your story? Who tells your story?"

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onlydylanobrien · 3 years

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Dylan O'Brien - NME Magazine Interview

Dylan O’Brien: “I was in this transitional phase – close to a quarter-life crisis”

From YA heartthrob to legitimate leading man – how the 'Maze Runner' star hit his stride after a whirlwind decade

Definitely!” hoots Dylan O’Brien when NME asks if he still has to audition. “I’m not Tom fucking Hanks, bro.” He’s clearly amused by our question, but forgive us for thinking the 29-year-old actor gets cast on reputation alone. A decade into his career, and he’s making an impressive transition from teen TV star and YA franchise hero to charismatic leading man.

New York-born O’Brien cut his teeth on MTV’s hit Teen Wolf series, before landing the lead in the Maze Runner film trilogy based on James Dashner’s hugely popular novels. Leading a band of bright young things that included ex-Skins tearaway Kaya Scodelario, Game Of Thrones’ Thomas Brodie-Sangster and Will Poulter, he honed his craft while racking up nearly a billion dollars at the box office. “My career is a constant acting class,” says O’Brien. “To be able to do the Maze Runner movies simultaneously with Teen Wolf was amazing in terms of getting in reps and working my [acting] muscle.”

Now for the sometimes tricky bit. Many actors struggle with the post-breakout period, but O’Brien is making it look easy so far. This year’s Netflix hit Love and Monsters proved he can carry an old-school family adventure, and new film Flashback (out next week) reveals an appetite for weirder, more cerebral work. He stars as Fred Fitzell, a young man reluctant to buckle down to life as a nine-to-fiver with a boring corporate job and a long-term girlfriend (Mindhunter‘s Hannah Gross). When he runs into a freaky-looking acquaintance from his teenage years, Fred becomes obsessed with finding an old high-school friend he used to drop a mind-bending experimental drug called Mercury with. It’s difficult to say any more without entering spoiler territory, but Flashback is a wild ride underpinned by the idea that we can exist in several realities at once. Even if you follow every plot twist, you might not fully understand the end. “Oh, it’s definitely a headfuck,” O’Brien agrees. “There’s not totally an answer to figure out. There’s a lot of different things that people can take from it.”

Speaking over Zoom from his LA home, O’Brien is bright, thoughtful and really good fun to talk to, especially when he relaxes into the interview, but he clearly knows where his line between public and private lies. When he first read the Flashback script, written by the film’s director Christopher MacBride, his “mind was blown” by just how much he related to Fred. “I felt like I was in this transitional phase of my life that was, you know, sort of close to a quarter-life crisis type thing,” he says. “For whatever reason, it was like me and this script were meant to be. I remember reading it and thinking: ‘I am this guy right now.'”

“There were a lot of things in my personal life that were neglected for a while”

When we ask why O’Brien felt as though he had reached a “transitional phase”, he gives an answer that’s vague but not exactly evasive. For understandable reasons, he doesn’t mention the incredibly traumatic motorcycle accident he sustained while shooting the final Maze Runner film in March 2016. O’Brien suffered severe trauma to the brain and said in 2017 that he underwent extensive facial reconstructive surgery after the accident “broke most of the right side of my face”. Tellingly, he’s never really revealed what happened on set or how it affected him.

Today, O’Brien dances around the details of the accident and other issues he was dealing with at the time, but doesn’t shy away from discussing his inner conflict. “You know, it was a lot of personal things combined with at-a-point-in-my-career things,” he says after a brief pause. He says he’d have been going through some of this stuff anyway, simply because of his age, but it sounds as though success intensified it all. “It was like this whole fucking storm of shit,” he continues. “I was simultaneously so fulfilled and happy about these, like, otherworldly and surreal things that I had experienced in terms of where my career had brought me. I had all this confidence and fulfilment and beautiful people [in my life] – such amazing things to experience at a young age. But at the same time, there were a lot of things in my personal life that were unchecked and sort of neglected for a while.”

O’Brien says that in time, he realised he had to “stop for a second” and “re-explore how I wanted my life to look going forward”. In fairness, you can see why he needed a breather: his career took off while he was still a teenager. After his family moved from New Jersey to Los Angeles County when he was 12, O’Brien contemplated a career as a sports broadcaster – his Twitter bio still bills him as a “no longer suffering Mets fan” – then began posting YouTube videos as moviekidd826. A funny, slickly edited skit titled ‘How to Prepare for the SAT in 45 seconds’, shared when he was just 17, shows he was a born performer and storyteller. YouTube success led to him getting a manager, but his breakthrough role in Teen Wolf still came out of the blue. At the time, he was treading water at a local community college and taking auditions on the side.

Still, he has since taken a rather fatalistic view of this career-making moment. “It’s totally weird because, when I think about it now, I don’t see how it could have happened any other way. I can’t picture myself doing anything else now,” he told Collider in 2011. “It was really sudden and a little random, and not provoked by anything. It was just out of nowhere. It wasn’t my intentional doing.” Today, O’Brien summarises his skyscraper career trajectory succinctly. “I guess I just graduated high school and started acting,” he says. “And then I felt like I was just flying by the seat of my pants and never got a chance to stop.” Thankfully, straight-out-the-blocks Hollywood success hasn’t taken away his sense of perspective. When I say how easy social media makes it to compare yourself unfavourably to others, O’Brien jumps in: “Yeah, that’s very true. I was watching the Billie Eilish doc the other day, and I was like, I’ve done nothing. I’m not an artist at all!”

“No one thought ‘Love and Monsters’ was going to be good!”

O’Brien is also self-deprecating when he talks about being cast in Flashback, suggesting it happened because he had such an intense connection with Fred. “I was honestly like, ‘Who is watching me right now?’ That is the best way I can describe how I was feeling when I came across this script,” he says. “Chris [MacBride, director] and I had this conversation that went so well in terms of [my] understanding this script that I think he’d sent around a lot and [that] very commonly wasn’t understood. I think Chris has even said that the night before shooting, he suddenly had this thought, like, ‘Wait, do I even think he’s a good actor?'”

Though O’Brien has firmly ring-fenced elements of his private life, he’s actually pretty frank about his acting vehicles. He readily admits he was expecting a snobbish response to Love and Monsters, a CGI-heavy hybrid of post-apocalyptic action and romcom that dropped on Netflix in April and topped the streamer’s daily most-watched list. “It means so much that Love and Monsters has gotten the response that it’s gotten,” O’Brien says. “No one thought this movie was going to be good.” His blunt honesty makes me laugh out loud. “No one did though!” he says in response. “And so, fuck that. You know, most of the people who say something to me about the movie, they’re like: ‘I watched Love and Monsters, and it was… good?’ And honestly, that just cracks me up.” For obvious reasons, we hastily decide not to share our response to the film – namely, that it was a whole lot better than expected.

In Love and Monsters, O’Brien plays Joel, a survivor of a so-called “monsterpocalypse” that has bumped humans to the bottom of the food chain. Though he’s known in his colony as a bit of a coward, Joel sets off on a treacherous 80-mile journey to find his high school sweetheart Aimee (Iron Fist‘s Jessica Henwick), which means evading the hungry clutches of various supersize grizzlies including a giant monster-frog hiding in a suburban pond. It’s a simple but pretty out-there premise that wouldn’t work if O’Brien’s performance was even slightly condescending. Instead, his unselfconscious sincerity really sells a film that has as much in common with the family-oriented Robin Williams movie Night at the Museum as darker fare like The Walking Dead.

His obvious affection for the project really comes across during our interview today. “When I read the script, I just thought it was so sweet and funny and smart and unique, but at the same time reminiscent of all these movies that don’t really get made any more,” he says. That’s a fair point: Love and Monsters is neither a fail-safe superhero movie nor a slice of classy Oscar bait. “And when they were talking about how to market this movie, it was so funny hearing all these conversations like, ‘How do we actually get people to watch it?'” he adds. “But that’s a big part of the reason I wanted to do this movie: because it felt like something I missed seeing.”

“I’m lucky to be surrounded by people who want to make something out of love”

So in a way, Love and Monsters was a risk for an actor seeking to establish himself outside of a bankable movie franchise and a hit TV show. O’Brien has only made four films since his final Maze Runner outing in 2018, and insists he hasn’t been tactical with his choices. “I don’t have anyone saying, ‘We need to get you in an Oscar vehicle’, or any of that kind of shit,” he says. “I’m really lucky to be surrounded by people who think like me: that you should do what you’re drawn to, and make something out of love.”

He’s recently finished shooting a mysterious crime thriller called The Outfit in London with Mark Rylance. Directed and co-written by Graham Moore, who won an Oscar for his screenplay to Alan Turing biopic The Imitation Game, O’Brien calls it “quite possibly one of the most special pieces of writing I’ve ever experienced”. He first read the script on a plane and says he “actually stood up and clapped” when he got to the end. Considering O’Brien probably wasn’t flying Ryanair, this reaction presumably attracted a few baffled glances.

Anyway, it must be pretty intimidating walking onto set with Rylance, a multi-award-winning actor revered by his peers – Al Pacino once said he “speaks Shakespeare as if it was written for him the night before” – but it sounds as though O’Brien took it all in stride. He says he’s confident in his abilities, but admits to having a slight wobble whenever he begins a new project. “I’m always sort of re-questioning everything – like, ‘Can I even act?'” he says. “But I think there’s something very natural about that. I think even Rylance could relate to that feeling. Acting is like starting a new year at school every single time.”

At this point in his career, O’Brien has made peace with the fact that some people will have preconceptions about him based on what he’s known for: Maze Runner and Teen Wolf. “People will put you in a box no matter what,” he says. “There was definitely a time when that would get to me, especially when it felt like somebody had a perspective on me that in my soul, I just felt wasn’t accurate.” Still, there’s no doubt he wants to show us what’s really in his soul with more films like Flashback. “If anything,” he adds bullishly, “it just makes me think: ‘Right, I’m really gonna show them now’.”

‘Flashback’ is out on digital platforms from June 4

#dylan o'brien #love and monsters press #flashback press #the outfit press

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ruzek-halstead · 3 years

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all i want for christmas is you 🎄

part one

pairing: luke patterson x julie molina

when julie finds herself in a situation where she needs luke to come home with her to celebrate christmas with her family, he is more than happy to oblige. too bad julie's already in love with him, and not sure when she stopped pretending.

holiday university au

series masterlist || masterlist || ao3

ps. i'm sorry but not sorry for choosing the cheesiest title ever for this fic

🎄

"I need you." Luke choked on his iced coffee. He had just walked into Julie's dorm room, iced coffees in hand when she nearly attacked him in the doorway. "What?" With a small smirk, she backed up, pulling him inside and closing her door. "I need you. I need your help, actually." Luke furrowed his eyebrows, but pounced onto her bed anyway like he usually did. He reached out to hand her the iced coffee. Julie met Luke on her first day of university. She was struggling to find her classroom to Composition 101, when she ran smack into a hard body. The hard body happened to be Luke and he also happened to be carrying an iced coffee. It got all over the two of them, and instead of yelling at him or apologizing, she started crying. He was more freaked out than anyone she had ever seen in her life, and to comfort her, he awkwardly patted her arm and dug out a packet of tissues from his backpack. When she calmed down and realized what happened, she nearly died of mortification. But then she stopped crying and Luke's eyes softened; he asked her what was wrong and once she started talking, she couldn't stop. It just so happened that Luke was also in Composition 101 and the classroom was just to their right. She was mortified, but he was cute and understanding, and they've been inseparable ever since. Sure, maybe at one point she thought something more would happen between them. But school kept them busy, and their friendship came first; so, she never made a move, and neither did he. Instead, they continued to hang out (they ended up having more classes together since they were both in the music program) and once Julie met his friends, and they met her best friend Flynn, the five of them became inseparable. Julie discovered Luke and his friends were in a band; they were trying to build a following and since Flynn was amazing with public relations and social media, she took over as their part-time manager. And Julie started writing songs with the band and she occasionally joined them on stage. They were all thinking it; that Julie should join the band, but it was a big step and no one wanted to bring it up first. "What do you need me for?" Luke asked. If he weren't so focused on his iced coffee (it was so delicious), he would have noticed she was pacing the small floor of her dorm and chewing nervously on her fingernails. When she didn't immediately reply, he looked up. "Jules, talk to me. What's up?" She stopped her pacing and moved to stand in front of him. He was gazing at her with soft brown eyes and she just wanted to melt because of how utterly adorable he looked. "I did a thing," she admitted, but didn't elaborate any further. "I do a lot of things every day, Jules. You'll need to give me a bit more than that," he replied with a smirk. Julie still appeared uneasy so Luke reached out and tapped her fingers with his in a comforting gesture. "Come on. Did you kill someone? Are we getting rid of a body? I don't care what it is, but you'll have to tell me if I'm going to become an accessory." His goal was to elicit some type of reaction and he was graced with a small smile. "My Tia has been on my back about not having a boyfriend for a while now, so a while back I told her I had a boyfriend because it's not like she would ever meet him and I could just say we broke up or something," she gushed out in one large breath. Luke blinked, hiding a smirk so she didn't slap him and crawl back into her shell. "But the entire family is getting together for Christmas and she just assumed I was bringing my boyfriend and then when I tried to explain, she mentioned you by name and I just kind of blanked and basically, my whole family thinks you're my boyfriend and you're coming to spend Christmas with me." Julie expected him to look surprised, or even angry, but definitely horrified. So, she was shocked when he merely took another sip of his iced coffee and smiled at her. "Cool. When do we leave?" "Wait — what?" "I'm assuming we're leaving after exams, right?" He continued on speaking as if she wasn't gaping in his direction. He proceeded to pull out his phone from his front pocket and open his calendar. "My last exam is on the 22nd. Does that work for you?" Julie blinked. What the hell was happening? "But — aren't you — Luke, did you hear what I said?" He looked up at her with teasing eyes. "Yeah, Jules, I did. What about it?" "And you're okay with that?" Luke shrugged. "Well, let's weigh it out. Pros: I get to eat delicious food, hang out with my best friend and avoid the Patterson household. Cons: I can't really think of any, can you?" "Well — I — God, I am so confused right now." "Don't sweat it, Jules," Luke smiled charmingly and if Julie wasn't at a loss for words already, she definitely was now. "I'm excited. Plus, you know I love spending time with you," he added in a flirty tone. One problem with Luke? He was unbelievably flirtatious. Julie doesn't even think he's aware; it's mostly because he's incredibly kind and such a people's person, that his friendly approach comes off flirty. And it normally would be fine. Except he's basically the man of her dreams, and even when he merely smiled at her, her brain short-circuited. So, handling his flirty behaviour when it's directed at her? Honestly, she feels like she needs a crash cart with her at all times. "But like, they think we're dating, Luke," she clarified because she honestly didn't think he understood what he was getting himself into. She loved her family with all her heart, but they could be incredibly invasive and nosy. It's why she loved them, but also why she despised bringing anyone around. “You’re going to have to act as if you like me.” His smirk returned; he seemed to be enjoying this way too much. “I do like you, Jules.” She ignored the butterflies battling to the death under her ribcage. “Don’t be cute,” she admonished with a huff, “You’ll have to act like you’re in love with me.” “Okay,” he shrugged. Sometimes he was the most carefree, loveable dumbass in the world and it infuriated her to no end. “That doesn’t sound that hard. What’s not to love?” Julie was starting to get flustered and he was seemingly going along with everything she said, so she didn’t see much of a point to this conversation anymore. “Okay,” she agreed, nodding. “Then we’ll leave the day after exams. We’ll probably need to set some rules or something, but we have time for that. Deal?” She held out her hand in between them. Luke glanced at it and then back at her with an amused smile on his lips. He waited a moment before grasping her hand in his, chuckling. “Yeah, deal.” When he let go of her hand, he proceeded to flop back on her bed, while she headed straight for the iced coffee she hadn’t gotten a chance to drink yet. “Hey, Luke?” She called out and he hummed in response. “Thank you for this. It means a lot and I appreciate it. And you. I appreciate you.”

Luke pushed himself up on his elbows, shooting her a wickedly bright smile. “Anything for you, Jules. Or should I say muffin?” “Hell no. Never repeat that again.” “Yes, ma’am.” It was very clear who would be wearing the pants during their relationship.

The flight from New York City to Los Angeles was approximately six hours, which gave Julie and Luke ample time to hammer out the details of their newfound relationship. It also helped to distract Julie from the fact that she was essentially flying a metal death trap; it’s not that she hated flying, it just always made her uneasy. And because it was Christmas time, the flight was crammed. Luke had humbly offered her the window seat while he took the middle; his neighbour ended up being a sweet old man who slept for most of the flight. “If you squeeze the armrest any harder, you’re going to break your nails. Or a finger.” Julie relaxed her grip; it was a force of habit. “Sorry,” she replied sheepishly. “You can squeeze my hand instead if you want,” he offered, turning his palm to face up. It was a tempting offer, but things were already about to get complicated enough, so she needed to keep her head clear. So, she politely shook her head and spoke instead. “Okay, I need to be distracted. Let’s talk rules.” “Just the words every man wants to hear,” he quipped sarcastically. Luke had opted for a very casual airport look. He had his signature orange beanie pulled over his head, with a black hoodie and matching sweatpants; he completed the look with a pair of runners and his backpack. Even though he was dressed as casual as possible, Julie thought he never looked better. She had opted for a casual look too; an NYU hoodie with black leggings and her favourite white converse. Comfort was key on airplanes. “What, let me guess. You think we should go rogue and forget rules.” Luke laughed, shooting her a quick look from her left. “Yeah, pretty much.” “And you think that’s a good idea?” “Yeah,” he added, turning slightly to face her. “Listen, we don’t need to make this difficult. We should just act normally around each other, maybe a bit more touching here and there, but just keep it overall simple. You just let me know anything you’re uncomfortable with and it’s completely off the table.” Julie nodded, biting her lip. “Okay, that makes sense. What about our story though? We need a good story." The smirk returned to his lips. “But we already have the best story. You dumping coffee all over the both of us is really a way to make a first impression.” “It was your coffee!” “You ran into me!” He laughed, gently poking her ribs. “And then you started crying, which I will admit, freaked me the hell out. But hey, it all worked out.” Julie rolled her eyes. “Fine. So, what’s the story? You fell in love with me because I just looked so fabulous crying?” “Definitely not,” he shot back in a teasing tone. “Keep it simple, Jules. We were friends and things just happened from there. When did you tell your Tia you got a boyfriend?” “Like four months ago maybe?” “Perfect,” he agreed. “But seriously Jules, you’ll tell me if you’re uncomfortable, right? I don’t want to do anything you’re not okay with.” Julie nodded, her heart warming at his wide, worried brown eyes. “Yeah, I’ll tell you. But you have to tell me too. This goes both ways.” “Please, Julie,” he scoffed, “You could push me in front of a bus and I’d be okay with it.” She punched at his bicep. “Shut up, you weirdo. I’m serious though. If my family is too much or you’re just not into it anymore, let me know. We’ll shut it down and leave.” “You worry too much,” he brushed her off, straightening in his seat and putting in an airpod. “It’s cute but don’t worry, I’m going to be the greatest fake boyfriend you’ve ever seen.” Julie didn’t doubt that for even a second. x When Julie called her dad to tell him she was bringing her boyfriend home for the holidays this year, he was absolutely ecstatic. He was just so incredibly happy for his daughter and unbelievably excited to meet the man Julie chose. He wasn’t like those dads who were overprotective and tried to scare the boyfriends off; he just genuinely wanted everyone to be happy. And he trusted Julie, and he trusted her to make smart decisions and surround herself with the best of people. She had been at university for three years now after all; if he didn’t trust her now, he never would. “Your dad’s picking us up?” Luke asked as he and Julie walked through customs. They had picked up their suitcases and were heading out into arrivals. Julie nodded. “Yeah. He’s excited to meet you. Are you nervous?” “Not really,” Luke shrugged. “We’ve technically spoken before on FaceTime. And I’m a people person; fathers love me.” Julie laughed, passing through the doors and maneuvering through the crowd waiting for their arrivals. “Mine definitely will. You two are both dorks.” “Hey!” Luke called out, genuinely offended. But Julie was too busy hurrying off to the side in the direction of a tall man. Luke assumed it was Julie’s father because she jumped on his unsuspecting back and when he whirled around to see her, there were unshed tears in his eyes. Julie wrapped her arms around her father’s neck. It always amazed Luke just how tiny she really was. But seeing her bury herself in her father’s chest reminded him all over again. After a moment, she pulled back and swiped at her face. Luke could only assume she teared up a little bit too. Julie whirled around to face Luke; her nose was red and she looked adorable. She held out a hand for him to take. “Dad, I want you to meet Luke.” “It’s so nice to officially meet you, Mr. Molina,” Luke greeted him politely. He reached out a hand for him to shake. “Call me Ray, we’re basically family!” Ray gushed, grabbing Luke’s hand and pulling him in for a hug instead. Something inside Julie started heating up. “I knew I recognized you. We’ve spoken before, haven’t we?” Luke nodded, a bright smile in his face because he couldn’t hold it back. “Yes, sir.” At Ray’s disapproving look, he stammered on. “I mean Ray, sorry. Force of habit.” “That’s good,” Ray winked, “You have good manners.” Looking between his daughter and Luke, Ray had never felt happier. “I’m so glad you’re both here. Are you ready to meet the family, Luke? We’re a tad bit wild.” Julie hopped into the conversation once again. “Don’t worry, I’ve briefed him.” Luke shared an amused look with Julie. “Yeah, I’m very ready. My family is quite the opposite, so I’m looking forward to some excitement.” “I’m glad to hear that. Should we get on the road? It’s getting late and you both are probably tired.” “Exhausted,” Julie huffed, reaching for her suitcase. Ray smacked her hand away and took it upon himself to roll it for her instead. With both hands now suddenly free, she happily slid one into Luke’s and together they followed Ray to the underground parking garage. She thought it might feel weird, pretending with Luke. But holding his hand felt natural and introducing him to her dad felt easy, almost as if it was meant to be. She knew the dangers of the comfort she was feeling, but she really couldn’t be bothered as she cuddled into Luke’s side when the cold air hit them. Julie climbed into the backseat with Luke, and it wasn’t long before her head started to feel heavy and she was having trouble keeping her eyelids open. Luke crept a hand along the seat, tapping on her thigh. With a start, she turned to him with tired eyes. He nodded his head in his direction and Julie took that as an invitation for her to slide over and lay her head on his shoulder. They’d taken naps together before, so this wasn’t unusual for them. They’ve always relied on touch to show their affection; their whole friend group did. It came with the territory of being so comfortable with a person that certain boundaries cease to exist. And her boundaries with Luke were blurred, and it was only getting worse as time passed by. Julie cuddled into Luke’s side once again. Her head rested on his shoulder and his hand moved to her leg. His touch seemed hesitant as he hovered above her knee but close to her thigh; he obviously wasn’t sure if this would make her uncomfortable and he didn’t want to risk it. Julie grabbed his wrist and set his hand down on her thigh, murmuring a quiet, “It’s okay.” That’s all the assurance he needed.

Luke met Ray’s eyes through the rearview mirror, and Ray smiled fondly.

When they arrived at Julie’s childhood home, Luke gently nudged Julie awake. “Hey, look where we are.” It took her a moment, but she finally pulled herself away from Luke. The sight of the house in which she grew up in was a sight to behold. She hadn't been back in quite a while (flights weren't cheap and school was killer). But seeing all the lights and decorations littering the house made her heart swell, and for the first time since she arrived, she was genuinely excited for the next few days. Luke and Ray took care of their suitcases while Julie rushed into the house, revelling in the warmth feeling of home. Everything looked exactly the same, save for the extravagant Christmas tree and decorations; Julie loved it. "Carlos is sleeping, but you can see him in the morning. I'll make breakfast," Ray told her, as he followed Luke into the house. "I'm sure you're both tired too. Julie, your room is all set up. I'll see you both in the morning, okay? Goodnight." When Ray was out of sight, Luke took a moment to look around the house. There were a number of decorations, but what really caught his eye were the multiple photo frames scattered around the room. He approached one on a side table; it was a young Julie encased in an older woman's arms. Their resemblance was uncanny, and Julie didn't talk much about her mom, but he knew. "Is this your mom?" He asked quietly when she came to stand next to him. Julie nodded. "She's beautiful." "Isn't she?" Julie murmured back. "Come on, let's go to bed." They grabbed their luggage and made their way upstairs. Julie's room looked exactly like Luke expected it to; it was a larger version of her dorm room, complete with soft colours and flower print. "I'm going to take a shower. Make yourself comfortable." With a sleepy smirk, he dropped his suitcase off to the side and collapsed face first onto her bed. "You know I will," he mumbled into the mattress.

Julie laughed with a roll of her eyes. She quickly dug through her suitcase to pull out the essentials and went across the hall to hope in the shower. There was nothing better than a nice, hot shower after a long and grimy plane ride, and Julie savoured every second. She changed into a pair of pj shorts and a NYU crew neck (she had a lot of NYU clothes). When she returned to her room, Luke had dozed off. “Get up,” she ordered as she walked over to his lifeless body. “Go take a shower. You stink.”

She poked at his cheek and he groaned. “You love it,” he mumbled into the pillow. “Debatable.” With another loud groan, he went over to his suitcase to grab his essentials. While she waited, she turned on her television and continued her New Girl rewatch (one of the best shows in existence). It was also a bad habit of hers to fall asleep watching Netflix on her laptop, but since she had her TV once again, that would do. When Luke returned, his hair was all wet and messy and so adorable. He was wearing an old band t-shirt and a pair of plaid pj bottoms, and he loudly dropped down beside Julie. He was so exhausted after travelling all day (not to mention the incessant studying/cramming he'd been doing the entire week for exams). All he wanted was to pass out and wake up the next morning feeling well rested and prepared to spend Christmas Eve with the Molina clan. "This okay?" He mumbled to Julie, but he was nearly clocked out. While he was laying down on his back, Julie was sitting up with her back rested against the headboard. She was mindlessly scrolling through her Instagram feed, but her eyelids were starting to droop. "Yeah, of course," Julie replied, reaching over to set her phone down on her bedside table. “How do you think this is going so far?” Luke had his eyes closed, but he wasn’t quite asleep yet. “Good,” he muttered, “Your dad is amazing.” “Yeah, he is,” Julie smiled proudly. She shimmied down in her bed after turning off the lamp and kept a respectable distance between her and Luke. They'd taken naps together before, but they'd never officially shared a bed for an entire night. If he or any of the boys stayed over, they always built a fort of blankets on the floor. She just wanted to make sure he was comfortable. "Are you okay? Is this weird?" He let out a sleepy chuckle. "It's not weird for me, Jules." After a moment, he turned to face her with a serious expression. "Is it weird for you? Want me to move to floor?" "No!" She objected, louder and quicker than she expected. Luke seemed to relax. "No, I'm fine. I just want to make sure you're comfortable with this." Luke's sleepy smile returned to his lips. "I'm always comfortable with you; you don't have to worry about me." "But I do," she added, a knowing lilt in her tone. He rolled his eyes lightly before settling back down comfortably. "We should sleep. Big day tomorrow." "Yeah," Julie sighed. She wasn't sure what the protocol here was; does she face him to sleep or does she turn away? Admittedly, it may be a bit challenging to sleep when staring at his serene, adorable face, but she decided to face him anyway. Luke popped open an eye, and a warm smile appeared on his lips. "Goodnight, Jules." He reached out a hand between them. It was a small, comforting gesture but that was Luke. He would do anything for the people he loved and it warmed Julie's heart to know she was one of those people. Her fingers met his and she intertwined their fingers gently. "Goodnight, Luke."

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shiberpostshere · 4 years

Text

The Kiss Thief - Park Seonghwa Social Media AU

28. Chapter Twenty Four: Cinematic Parallels✨

Previous Part✨ Next Part✨

Masterlist of the AU✨

Word Count: 4.3 K

Note: This contains suggestive content.

5:00 PM. The clock was ticking a little too slow for your liking.

The second coffee cup of the day, now empty and sweating even in the air conditioned atmosphere of the cafe, accurately depicts your inner state minus the perspiration.

You continue chewing on your bottom lip, a little expectant and a little hesitant. It has been difficult to pay attention to the book in your hands, you’re rather occupied with counting the seconds on the clock for the past excruciatingly long fifteen minutes.

After testing out approximately millions of scenarios about what explanation Seonghwa is going to offer to put an end to your dilemma, the final one you kept arriving to is, ending things between you two.

An end to a relationship you've never experienced before that merely began a few weeks ago.

An end?

The assumptions were eating you from within. It’s strange how worried you have been for the last few days but it's even more queer that your feelings for him are rigid and unfazed.

Why is your heart ready to forgive him even for the worst case scenario?

All he had to say was, ‘Trust me’ and you did.

Your head falls back with a slump of exhaustion. “Oh my god, why are feelings so complicated?”

The intense war of dichotomy that's going on between your stubborn heart and persistent mind has been tiresome. It is a scenario where the brain is presenting blunt but logical ideas and the heart is deflecting those with its mellow and soothing sentiments.

The mind prepared a list of “Possible Hindrances You Will Have to Deal with When Managing a Relationship with Park Seonghwa” and your heart fired back with a counter argument of “Times When Park Seonghwa Made You Feel Extremely Happy and Appreciated”.

They are both correct in their respective standpoint. It is you who needs to settle on a conclusion which you cannot unless you learn Seonghwa’s perspective.

Okay, (Y/N) stop the train of thoughts, let’s think after we talk, let’s consider things after we talk, let’s focus on this wonderful book for now.

“Scoot over.” A heavy voice announces and you look up to register the undetected mischievous boy, standing in his tall glory, laptop held with care to his chest.

You slide along with your belongings, studying Mingi as he settles down with concern written all over his features.

“Okay.” The response comes out of you in an unexpectedly meek voice.

“I know you weren’t expecting my company but at least don’t look so disappointed.” In surprisingly quick movements he begins to work, fingers furiously drumming on the keyboard with his brows furrowed to an intense depth.

Indeed, you were not expecting his company but you didn’t want to openly broadcast the not-so-subtle disappointment. “What brings you here?” You ask, finally placing down the book whose title is already wiped clean out of your mind.

The amount of concentration currently present in your mind, almost none, made the task of reading troublesome. You did not get past the first sentence. You don’t even remember the said first sentence you read, maybe almost a thousand times for the last fifteen minutes of waiting.

The tall boy runs his fingers through his messy locks, disturbing them further. “Did you forget already?” His skeptical eyes meet your clueless ones.

“Oh.” A thoughtless answer because you truly have no idea what he is implying.

He leans lazily into the palm of his hand. “The pendrive, (Y/N)”.

The pendrive? What pendrive?

You shuffle through your rack of memories for a plausible answer. “Oh, shit. Hongjoong’s pendrive?”

He nods at your realization.

The pen drive Hongjoong entrusted with you last Friday to copy the contents for backup purposes and it was to be delivered to Mingi right after you were done.

He holds out his palm. “Give me it. I’ll be on my way, I don’t want to intrude.” A brief pause. "The talk, or whatever, um.."

An awkward smile stretches onto your lips, right hand sheepishly reaching out to the back of your neck.

The pen drive Hongjoong entrusted with you last Friday is actually not in your possession.

“What? Why are you making that weird face?” Don’t tell me--” He halts his rant, his suspicions getting confirmed as your awkward smile transforms into a rather skittish one.

You shoot up from your seat. “I remember Hongjoong telling me it's in the first drawer of the second cabinet, I will be right back!” In a hurried motion, you jump out of the broad bench, ready to sprint to and from the studio.

Mingi’s fingers catch a fistful of your coat before you can flee. “What am I supposed to tell Seonghwa when he arrives? I am not going to wait here in that kind of gloomy mood with him!”

You try to untangle his heavy hold on your coat. “I promise I will be back in no time. I came fifteen minutes early to prepare myself to talk to him! He won’t be here for another five minutes.”

He releases the hold, slightly shaking his head in disapproval. “Fine but be back as soon as possible.” His fingers shuffle inside his pants pockets to take out a small door key. “Take the key.” The studio key is tossed your way to catch.

“Thanks!” Holding up two thumbs up in the spur of the moment, you curse internally for admitting your obvious desperation out loud.

The distance between the building that houses various types of studios for the artistic students of KQU and Cafe Utopia, a space mostly occupied by the music and dance majors to relax during their breaks is only five minutes apart.

The ground is slippery and shifting under your heavy footsteps as you are trying to jump towards the studio.

You have seen a late, panicked Wooyoung in action, grabbing a drink priorly prepared for him (he has charmed all the part timers of the cafe) and disappearing out of the cafe within the time span of sixty seconds. It’s truly a wondrous sight to see until you’re in the similar situation, (You have not charmed all the part timers, not even San) running towards your class with not a single drop of temporary energy in your vessels.

The influence of the misunderstanding has clearly taken its toll on you. There have been a number of tasks you have forgotten or completed last minute due to your distracted mind since you learned the incomplete news. You were all over the place and you did not like it one bit.

While you’re hastily climbing up the stairs to reach the studio used by the Dazzling Night crew, you’re thankful that it resides on the first floor instead of fifth as a numbness creeps up your legs.

“Whoa! slow down.” A random boy comments as you dash by him, footsteps echoing through the corridor to reach the door at the very last.

“Sorry!” You shout, voice bouncing in the emptiness.

You halt with a screech in front of the locked door.

The door opens with a soft click and you turn on the lights, the 181024 studio illuminating with a warm glow. Your movements are quick as you navigate through the familiar surroundings, reaching out for the drawer.

A wave of relief washes over you when the blue pen drive with the owner’s initials is the first thing that comes into your vision after sliding the drawer open.

“Is it still there?” A sudden, soft comment startles you in the silence, hands flying up, increasing the pre-existing panting.

You turn around to address the unexpected guest and it is the last person you expected, quite contradictory, considering that you had been looking forward to his presence ever since today’s sun dawned in the sky.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Seonghwa’s eyes motion to the hand placed on your chest.

You let it fall, your body leaning back into the cabinet with a slight stumble. “No, it’s okay.” Retrieving the pen drive, you close the drawer. “I was just about to return. Mingi is leaving for the dance club soon.”

He studies the well accustomed surroundings, “I was thinking that maybe we can talk here instead?” You notice concealed bags underneath his weary eyes.

There is an evident urgency to the way he speaks, worried glances directed throughout the room.

For a brief moment you wish to wrap your arms around his warm and tall figure. To assure him and to be assured but you have to know what he has to say to control these storming feelings.

“Okay, yeah, sure, let’s talk here.” The temperature is too toasty to keep the coat on, you remove it and settle down on the only couch present in the studio.

Seonghwa closes the door behind him and takes a seat beside you, his fidgety fingers trying to keep themselves from reaching out to caress your face.

You gulp, pushing back your hair that is sticking to the nape of your neck, eagerly awaiting for him to speak. “Hwa?”

He looks up. “Yes?”

You let out a big exhale. “Can I say something before we talk about the Japan situation?” The fingers of your left hand begin pulling the threads of your right sleeve. “I have been thinking about certain things. Mostly about what I’ve been feeling which I often don’t think about.” Unknowingly, a nervous chuckle slips out of you.

He adjusts a little in his seat. “Yes, of course (Y/N). Tell me.” He is expecting to hear the conclusion he had been dreading.

“You know, when I heard from Mingi that you are leaving for Japan, the first thought that crossed my mind was a selfish one.” You observe his expression before you continue. He offers you every grain of his attention. “Even though both of us are busy with our own studies, you still find time for me, look out for me and I don’t know, it just feels extremely comforting in your presence. It’s almost as if I don’t have to worry about anything when you’re around."

That was not what he presumed you wanted to say to him.

His expression softens. “(Y/N), you look out for me as well, I hope you know how much I value the time we spend.”

A small sad smile appears on your lips. “It comes to naturally, I don’t know, I just feel like you’re always looking out for everyone but you’re a big baby yourself. You need someone to look out for you as well, dummy.” He opens his mouth to protest at your playful comment but you’re quick to continue. “It hasn’t been so long, maybe a few weeks but everything went so well. I looked forward to even the shortest amount of time we spent together. Even when you spontaneously appeared out of nowhere and accompanied me to the class.” You stop for a moment. “I’m not making much sense right now, am I?”

He shakes his head, an expression of awe written all over his features. “No, I understood everything, it’s okay.”

“But” You hesitate and his features shift into an anxious one. “But, I didn't consider the eventual obstacles we might face in the future, taking in account that you’re graduating next year and I am barely beginning my college life. I actually purposely didn’t think about it, I wanted to save it for later until--”

“Until you learned that I am leaving for Japan.” He concludes the sentence in your stead.

You nod. “I like you a lot, Seonghwa. My feelings are intense enough that I won’t be able to decide what I should be feeling next unless you tell me everything yourself.” You said it, you finally said it.

“What?” He questions, a little taken aback.

Oh no. Maybe, I shouldn’t have poured out everything at once. God, what have I done?

The way he appears perplexed, he definitely was not expecting you to dump out your feelings on him when you said you wanted to talk. You are pretty sure he is feeling pressured by this revelation.

“The important thing you wanted to tell me was not putting an end to us before it escalated further?” After hearing his question, it's your turn to be confused by his words.

“What?” You push back the unruly hair falling in front of your face with both of your hands, unable to decide if he’s suggesting to end things.

He moves a little closer. “You don’t want to end what we have, right?”

“No! But that depends on whether you’re going or not. Wait, do you want to end...this?”

“No!” He is extremely quick to answer. “(Y/N)?”

“Yes?” You’re eager to hear what he has to say. The puzzling thoughts are clouding your mind.

“I am not moving to Japan after graduation. I am simply accompanying Hongjoong for a month to help him settle, like a short vacation after three years of continuous college.” He finally admits the entire thing. The following sentence that truly makes or breaks the incomplete one you had heard before. The incomplete one you had heard before and especially not from him.

“You’re not moving to Japan after graduation? You’re only going away for a month? Just a month?” You repeat to make sure that you heard it right even though he stated it with proper enunciation.

In the span of twenty years of your life, you didn’t know that it was possible to feel embarrassed and relieved at the same time yet at this moment you’re experiencing both.

You’re embarrassed because of the millions of possible negative scenarios you coddled in your mind, the time you spent brooding, the time your friends had to take measures to elevate your mood and relieved that hopefully nothing would change between you and Seonghwa, at least not in the way you had feared them to and despised every second of those intrusive thoughts.

“Yes, I am only going away for a month after my graduation.” There is now a similar smile of relief on his lips.

The edges of your shoulders droop. “If you can’t tell, I feel extremely stupid right now. I feel so stupid.”

Seonghwa tilts his head, his movements relaxing for the first time since you started speaking. “Will it help if I told you that I assumed the same? I feel stupid for not telling you myself before you heard it from someone else and that’s what caused the misunderstanding in the first place, (Y/N). Their is no one at fault here, trust me.”

“Are you disappointed?” The inquiry slips out of your subconscious.

His hands take yours to securely enclose them in between his palms. “Not at all. There will be small misunderstandings, bad feelings, unintentional hurtful words and external factors that will stand as an obstacle in any relationship. Do you know how happy I am that you decided to hear me out instead of arriving at a conclusion of your own? I was worried, (Y/N).” His faltered gaze lingers on the entangled fingers. “I was worried that right when I started spending time with someone who understands me, who makes me smile, who relieves me from my troubles and brings out the good sides in me might end up leaving.” He bites back the urge to say, ‘again’.

“Oh, Seonghwa.”

Without further thought, you reach out to him and pull him close into you by clasping your arms firmly around his shoulders. He responds immediately as he wraps his arms around your waist to hold you even closer. He snuggles his face into the crevice of your neck, his gentle breaths causing a little tickling sensation.

Out of all the times he has held you before, sometimes unintentionally when you’re with your friends, quite often after a long day when he falls into your embrace, and always before you leave for the night after the show, today you feel the utmost satisfaction and at ease.

His hand is caressing your back in a serene motion to cast away the doubts created by the miscommunication.

You remove your face from his homely shoulder, arms still intact around him as if he is the most precious being in this world. “Let’s talk, okay? Let’s give each other time in future so that we can solve things when we’re ready to talk. I know things will change, things are bound to change but let’s try to understand as we get through the most simplest or the most complicated situations.”

He appears displeased that you disturbed him from the snugness of your neck that he had settled in to but delivers an instant agreement to your question along with a quick peck that he places to the closest cheek. “Yes, let’s.”

Blood begins rushing to your face instantly due to his sweet gesture.

“So, can we go back to the part when you said you like me a lot?” To your disappointment, he releases the hold around your waist but the disappointment is short-lived as the free hand of his travels to your thigh in an attempt to lift you onto his lap.

The bold action of his catches you off guard, his other hand now bringing you closer to him with not even a centimeter of space left in between. The thumping of your heart is ringing in your ear as you feel his thighs you’ve been flopped onto, underneath.

You’re stunned with arms still locked around his shoulders. “Why do we have to go back to that part in particular?” The intimacy is making it difficult for you to maintain a constant eye contact with him.

His eyes that hold an amused yet admiring gleam try to find yours but you’re dealing with a current little conflict of your own. The thoughts are flashing with intense hues in your mind due the fact that his hand is resting quite dangerously on your thigh and the other arm has you locked by the waist.

You are not complaining but this outcome is not what you exactly prepared yourself for. This particular scenario did not even cross your mind for a nanosecond. How come this has never crossed your mind? He has nice thighs.

He has nice thighs? Of course he has nice thighs! You have noticed how sturdy they are, especially when he’s wearing skinny jeans. Oh my god, did I ogle at Seonghwa’s thighs in public when he was wearing skinny jeans? What if he caught me ogling at him when he was wearing skinny jeans? IN PUBLIC? Not to forget the time you kept staring at the definitions of his arms that one blessing of a day when he wore a tank top due to the sweltering weather. But how can I not look at him when he looks THIS ATTRACTIVE? WHAT EXACTLY AM I SUPPOSED TO DO IN THIS SITUATION?

As you’re contemplating and battling with quite interesting thoughts, entranced in your own bubble, Seonghwa is observing you with a smirk that you have not noticed yet.

“What are you thinking about? You’re stark red, baby.” He appears absolutely delighted, a kind of joy you’ve ever witnessed before.

“Baby? Baby?” You repeat like a lust stricken puppet.

“Yes?” His hand trails from your neck to your waist in an excruciatingly slow pace. The temperature in the studio rising enough to convince you to discard your clothes.

Why did my mind even go to the thought of removing clothes? Shut up!

His hand settles on the nape of your neck, tugging you down to his forehead. “You don’t like this?”

You part your lips to answer but your system fails to support you.

His breath fans on your lips due to the proximity of your faces. “Can I kiss you?” His voice sounds heavy when he asks. A deep tone you’ve never heard him speak with.

“What?” You’re flustered, heart thumping wildly in your ribcage, ready to burst out. Your gaze continues shifting back and forth between his beautiful, chestnut eyes and tender, pink, kissable lips.

His finger gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “Can I kiss you, (Y/N)?”

You unlock the clasp of your fingers from behind his neck to carefully hold his cheeks. “Oh. I mean, yes, of course--”

Your lips collide. They meet with such haste as if he had been counting days just to have you to himself. The feeling of his plump lips against yours is unbelievable. Unbelievable enough for you to tilt your head for a deeper taste. He tastes like strawberries, extremely sweet and addicting.

Your chests are pressed together, hearts beating frantically in a mismatched rhythm but sharing the fervour. You let one hand trail down to trace the unexplored areas you couldn’t dare to before. His entire body is blazing with a familiar passion that is swirling within you as well. He lets his hand perform smooth strokes around your neck with his dainty fingers supplying a tingling sensation all the way down to your core by the delicacy of the action.

He kisses you. He drinks you in, again and again. You break apart for a mere second to take in a deep breath and connect your lips with such urgency, unable to get enough of each other.

In the moment that is burning up with each and every second ticking by, actions are getting bolder. Seonghwa’s hands move up to your chest, to explore every inch of you and your fingers are roaming through his hair, kneading through the soft black locks. The dizzying movements intoxicating him further.

He catches your lower lip in quick, needy pecks and proceeds with something you did not see coming. His teeth grasp it with a painfully long drawl, leaving you breathless. A swarm of butterflies are whirling in your stomach and your head leans back the moment he releases your lips to let the suppressed throaty moan finally escape. He takes the opportunity to pepper feathery kisses all the way around your collarbone, the plump lips connecting with warmth and leaving behind a chill that vibrates down your spine.

Chests heaving up and down with exhilaration and shortness of breath, You grab his face and plant one long lasting peck.

“OH MY GOD, NOT AGAIN!” A deafening, exasperated exclaim pierces your ears.

The shriek frightens you as you lose your balance and your forehead bumps against Seonghwa’s head with a loud thud causing you two to hiss and yelp at the impact.

There he stands by the door, Song Mingi, the requester of the pen drive that vanished magically out of your minds. His ears are boiling red, jaw hanging a little too low and eyes stretched to their maximum possible width.

Mingi takes in every detail ruefully. Seonghwa’s hands messily entangled around your neck and waist while yours held his face. Your body cozy on his friend’s lap, hair disheveled, swollen red lips and loss of air depicts it crystal clear that PG-13 activities were surely going to lead up to Rated R. Mingi does not wish to know what happened before and he definitely does not wish to be aware of what was going to happen on the studio couch. The only couch in the studio to crash on, the couch he liked to roll on while Hongjoong worked and now it will be the couch he is never going to even lay one finger on.

“Mingi, I--” Seonghwa opens his mouth to explain, maybe even apologise for the sight the boy has walked onto.

Meanwhile, you’re occupied with examining the ceiling to its greatest details, unable to register Mingi’s presence due to the embarrassment.

The tall boy holds up his hands. “You were here for the pen drive, the pen drive!” He mutters under his breath, snatching the blue device from the half open drawer with furious eyes. “What is with you guys kissing and me walking at the exact time? It was cringy back then, now it’s just, my god” You decide to answer but he silences you and continues, “You were supposed to talk! What happened to talking? Oh my god, leave me alone, please.” He shakes his shoulders and arms with a face of disgust.

“We were talking.” You say in a timid tone.

Seonghwa nods a little too enthusiastically. “We were talking.”

Mingi rolls his eyes. “Clearly.” He stomps towards the door. “Clearly, you were talking and not sucking each other’s face in a public studio. Not in the studio, guys! God, whatever. I am leaving.”

Yeosang’s warnings about funny business in the studio pops into your mind.

“MINGI DON’T TELL YEOSANG, PLEASE!” You scream out a plea as Mingi walks out.

He answers in his low voice already out of the studio. “STOP MAKING OUT IN PUBLIC STUDIOS!”

If it wasn’t for Seonghwa’s hands resting on your hips, keeping you settled, you’d leaped out behind Mingi.

He chuckles beneath you, thumbs tracing circles on your stomach. “Don’t worry about him. He’ll complain for a week and then forget about it.”

The thought of flustered Mingi and irritated Yeosang is pushed far back into your mind the moment your eyes take in the bliss present on Seonghwa’s features. “You’ll silence them with that gentle glare of yours whereas they’ll bring it up every time I cause a minor inconvenience, we’re different, Hwa.” Even though you’re supposed to be complaining, you’re focused on fixing the strands of hair ruffling against his forehead.

“I like it when you call me ‘Hwa’. God, what are you doing to me?” He leans upwards to place a soft peck on your jaw almost pulling you back into the extraordinary emotions you experienced a few minutes ago. “I like you a lot, (Y/N).”

You release yourself from his hold and he displays extreme dismay at your actions. “You better or else the makeout session would make no sense if you didn’t.”

He too, stands up and his arm sneaks around your waist. “I am feeling too good, nothing will get me riled up today.” His lips find your cheek again. He had been waiting for a while to shower you with affection and now that he has received the golden chance, he will not waste it.

“Hongjoong and Yeosang will find out and scold you.” Your comment goes through his one ear and escapes through the other. He is elated and unbothered.

“Mmmm, okay.” He responds lightheartedly with a shrug.

The contentment he is displaying through gentle touches, adoring eyes and unfading smile, you’re capturing all those elements to cherish at present and in the uncertain but the coming future, with Seonghwa. The mere thought is giddying enough.

You’re falling for this man and you’re falling hard but you’re unaware that so is he.

Pairing: (Business Management Major) College Student! Seonghwa x (Law Major) College Student! Female Reader

Genre: Fluff, A teeny tiny bit of smut with a pinch of angst

Synopsis: High school crushes are often silly and forgotten. However, you cannot forget the one senior, you “borrowed” once a kiss from. Years have passed and it’s a memory you laugh at but what will happen if you’re to encounter the same senior in a much different setting and situation? Especially during your first year of college.

A/N: Take a shot every time Mingi says “God, My god, Oh my god.”

How are you guys doing? How did you like the chapter? do tell, do tell! Spare feedback please!

I attempted to write a steamy scene, did I do well? I am not quite experienced (nervous laughter) but I tried my best to relay what I wanted to. We’re SO close to the end. Earlier I was just thinking that my god, something I started is actually finishing, I can’t believe it.

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

🌸Tags:

@enigmaticsal @stardusthyuck @missiopk @preets-kpop-world @cloudsgathering @sanisms @jiyeons-closet @retrofuture-ism @hongjoongsnoona @ateezficz @veeeenus4 @mochibabycakes @vhschs @choisaniskillingme @vantclavs @f-iyan @staywritten @baes-moon-scribbles @uppiespuppy @mingiflower @multiangell

🌸Unable to tag: @mingiibabieee @dreamie-deonghwa @9songbird19

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#ateez #ateez social media au #ateez fluff #ateez fake texts #ateez text au #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateezsmau #ateez sm au #ateez social au #ateez au #park seonghwa #kim hongjoong #jung yunho #kang yeosang #song mingi #choi san #jung wooyoung #choi jongho

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thefirsthogokage · 3 years

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Why did you rage quit the rookie?

(this turned out longer then I meant it to be, but I kept remembering reasons why I hate this show now)

The writing went down the drain. Hard. I was so pissed because it started off well in season one. Granted, it had a couple big ridiculous things that happened, but overall it was pretty good. Especially for a freshman show. One of the best I'd seen in years.

Then season two came along and it became progressively/exponentially worse.

Obviously going for shock value over good content with extreme circumstances in most episodes, often not making sense (why the fuck did Nolan's son and his girlfriend go to that trailer park?)

poor plot lines with female characters (Lopez and Wes getting engaged after only being together a few months, Lopez trying out to be pretty damn toxic and "I was poor, you should have been happy you were rich" and "sorry you're embarrassed of me (which is the same abousive shit my mother would pull), Grace going back to her ex because they had a kid even though their marriage sucked and it was outlined earlier in the season that was a bad idea, Jessica killing that one guy and that was never followed through on and her being psycho and following Nolan around and that never being addressed, Chen never given psychological damage she should have absolutely had even of she did self-therapy, Rachel getting her "dream job" in NY and the writers couldn't even take the time to tell us what said dream job was.)

Poorly planned plots in general (stunningly so)

Most characters not feeling like a proper continuation of who they were in season one. Going a ong with that, Chen and Bradford being way too close basically over night when that isn't natural progression from season one

I was for Chenford after season one, but they escalated it in a very cheesy and non true to character way, which also happened way too quickly. So many of their interactions felt too romantically tinted when they shouldn't have been there yet. HEART EYES ALL THE TIME! Like, I stayed watching the show for them until I couldn't tolerate anymore. Then I tried staying for Nyla and just gave up because I hated the rest of the show so much

obvious lack of research (the serial killer with pathology that made no sense, never finding out the connection between him and the lady, the guy apparently also got a job a prison with a stolen social security number from a disabled person - both of which would have been flagged in a background check!!! Such a genuinely poor writing episode and the season just went even more downhill from there)

Nolan being the hero even more in most of the episodes, and his intellect or lack thereof being a plot device

not letting Chen actually suffer from PTSD like she should have and just had her basically quickly move on in an impossible way (I am including this twice, thank you)

throwing her into a relationship with a guy who was a jackass and went all "leave my woman alone" on Bradford when she absolutely didn't need help

Jackson going to a very public premiere with his actor boyfriend even though he was an active cop. What the actual fuck were they thinking with that? Jackson isn't that dumb, he would have never done that.

this show clearly is not keeping a a continuity or character bible of any sort, getting basic facts of their characters wrong (especially Tim, I just can't remember the specific thing that it was, but it could have been inconsistencies in his wounds. Now that I think about it, Chen said something about him getting shot more then once and stabbed and the only time we ever saw evidence of any injury was after he was shot in episode one. Which actually brings me to my next point...)

they never had Tim have a scar from his gunshot wound

Tim getting his 12-year-old-acting girlfriend out of trouble when she bats her eyes at him. He shouldn't have even been dating her in the first place. No way Tim would have ever dated a friend of his rookie. Completely unprofessional of him, in a way that was not believable for his character.

No way Chen could have been an undercover cop after that documentary episode. And if that episode was mean to be a stand alone, it should have never been in the show. That episode also had continuity issues, and that's not including the absolute insanity of whatever the fuck they did to Stirling. (That poor actor, he really wanted to come back and continue the story with his character and Jackson)

THE WHOLE FUCKING BULLSHIT TIMELINE AND PACING OF THE SHOW! examples: They made the stupid thing current to whatever the real world year was. The problem with that was they had an in-universe schedule set up. The first two seasons should have spanned from like October 2018 to October 2019, and yet, in the episode where Wes got stabbed (earlyish season 2), it was November 2019 when it should have been around like May, 2019. They said it was 2021 early in S3 when it should have never been around that time. Infact, it was supposed to be during their last 30 days of their rookie year, meaning THAT should have been October or November 2019. The time pacing of this show is so bad. They should have done a real time skip in season 3, instead, the first NINE FUCKING EPISODES WERE THOSE LAST 30 DAYS! And, according to someone else's math, because of the bullshit with the timeline, Lopez was pregnant for 11 months. Absolutely fucking insane. Timelines and timetables that are so thoroughly screwed up in a show that it's THAT obvious they are flying by the seat of their pants are just impossible for me to stand. That is so dumbfounding to see on any tv show and alone enough for me to rage quit. It's so bizarre they stuck to a timeframe in-universe, then so obviously screwed up what year it was every damn season at least once (in S3 2-3 times).

Just such piss poor writing. No real planning ability. No writing talent left in that writer's room after season one. Just people who throw words down on paper and hope that people will like it. Which so many people still do for some reason?

There are so many other things wrong with this show, but those are the ones I remember off the top of my head. Granted, a couple are second hand because I stopped watching after the rookies did stuff with the DEA. I couldn't watch that. That was such and insane idea. OH AND THEM GOING ON A FUCKING SECRET OP? WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!

And that's not including what I've heard was their "After School Special"-style take on fighting racism in the police force.

And I don't always pick up on these kinds of things specifically. I generally don't pick up on missteps like that in plot or timelines or whatnot or just things that even someone who doesn't have much specified knowledge in certain things should miss (the "job at a prison" thing I mentioned earlier). I'm good at telling the chemistry between actors, - or lack there of, - not the other stuff. When it's so bad I - of all people - am noticing things that are normally pointed out to me, a lot of fucking up is happening. In multiple departments. Like, normally when anything happens in other shows, it isn't as blunt, on the head, painfully obvious, and frequent as it has been in this show.

So, yeah, if you made it though my rant, congrats. If you don't get irritated with the show and bullshit that happens in it now, power to you I guess.

I really wished I could still hate watch this show, but it checked way too many "this is exceptionally poor craftsmanship: tv show edition" boxes for me to put up with it anymore. It was so promising at first, even with it's various hiccups (that I didn't notice until later on all of them) but I hadn't seen a show crash that hard in quality before. I mean, since then I had to experience the travesty that was Supernatural going from 15x18 to 15x19 and 15x20, but that was after I gave up on The Rookie.

Anywho, I would say I hope that answers your question anon, but I have little room for doubt that it didn't.

#asks #anon ask #antitherookie #tv show asks #tv show ask #fuck alexi for all of his bullshit #from what i hear the last season of Castle was absolute shit and he was in charge of that too #the rookie

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imbeccable-writes · 3 years

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GASP! How about P, S, V! About animaniacs and/or the hero academia :D

I'll do both because I am extra!!!

P. Are you what George R. R. Martin calls an "architect" or a "gardener"? (How much do you plan your story in advance or how much do you let the story unfold as you go?)

I'm much more of a gardener than an architect, but in the way a gardener may plan where the seeds are planted and then let the flowers grow as they need with the necessary care and love. And by that I mean, I have a basic, basic plan usually when I go into fics - like, a specific idea I want to get across, or a specific scene.

For instance, Separated was born purely on the "what if the kids were split up when Salazar invaded" idea that I had had swimming in my head around the new year. I dunno what EXACTLY put the idea in my head, but it was a combination of Once Upon a December and multiple, multiple instances of people being like "don't ever, ever, ever separate the Warners" (where I was like, "but - but what if we DID?")

I don't outline or anything, because most of my fics are oneshots based on prompts. Separated is the first multi-chapter fic in a long while that I fully believe I'll be able to finish because I'm just so excited for it. Back when I published the first chapter is when I started thinking about what exactly I wanted to do with the kids. I knew I wanted Wakko to have a great time and Dot to have a bad time and Yakko to be in the middle. Like I've said before, Mai was supposed to die in the chapter she was introduced in, about a week after Yakko was dropped off there. It was supposed to be a kind of "wake up call", if you will, for him, as a kinda "don't you dare get comfortable here", but of course it didn't end up that way. It just became a way for him to basically relive the worst thing that had ever happened to him, except this time, he's not going to let anyone else in and comfort him again. He already made that mistake and he's learned his lesson.

ANYWAY. Most of the specifics developed during writing, like the food trauma in chapter three and the drawing in chapter 5. By the time I'm writing the next chapter, I usually have a solid idea of what I want to happen, but it's never written out in a clear concise manner - it's all just scenes in my head waiting to come to fruition.

Like, the thing where Wakko tries to shape his body into looking like his sibs? At first, I just had the vague idea of him talking to himself in the mirror, all happy that he had found a way to reconnect with his "siblings". Or with Mai's death, all I had really was just the image of Yakko on his knees, several dozen feet away from a stage, looking absolutely devastated, and also the whole "he snuck out using his toon powers to try and save her" thing. (God i wish I could draw so so much, because I have a VIVID image of that scene in my head and I WISH I could draw it for you all to see and break your hearts like it breaks mine every time it pops into my head 😭)

Anyway, all this to say is that I don't plan a thing, I am flying by the seat of my pants and have a fic held together with duct tape, angst, and The Reunion Scene That Plagues Me Every Time I Close My Eyes. :)

S. Any Fandom tropes you can't resist?

THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED. WHATEVER WILL WE DO.

Fake Dating. I eat that shit up.

Fix-It fics :)

just... the whole, "I realize the author has made a decision (to make all their characters straight and cis), but given it's a stupid as decision, I've elected to ignore it" thing fandom has going for shooting every even barely likeable character with a Gay Beam akdjajd. That's not really a trope as it is people in a group collectively deciding to project onto a bunch of lines and colors, but it never fails to make me laugh.

Explicit Found Family. Give It To Me.

Group chat/social media fics! some people are just so so so creative with both of them, especially the later, and it just tickles me pink every time

I'm sure there are more, but those are the ones off the top of my head!

V. A secondary (or underrated) character you want to see more of in fics?

Okay, for Animaniacs, I dunno what it is, but I really love Rita and Runt, and also Mindy and Buttons. Like, as characters. (Rita and Runt's segments were fun, but Mindy and Buttons' got repetitive and honestly, I didn't like seeing Buttons get beaten around all the time lol) I dunno just!!! I like them!!! I think they're neat!!! They've both got a cute relationship with their show partner and I dunno!!! They deserve more I guess akdjakdjs

For My Hero Academia, it's a little harder, bc I only read fics about Izuku, you know? akdjajs he's my BOY, like my MAIN boy, and if a fic isn't about him or one of his relationships, then I've lost interest akdkakdks. That said, I feel like there are a lot of characters that could vibe well with him that we rarely see! Like, Kirishima and him have very similar Sunshine Energy and they deserve to work together more. And him and Eri are!!! So cute!!!! PEAK found family potential there. And same with Kouta too! The first kid he saved (and adopted)!!!! I miss that little shit head lmaoooo.

Basically just; anyone that could mesh well with Izuku in fics SHOULD, and the fact is, Izuku meshes well with everyone because he's just so incredible, and everyone deserves to have a Life Changing Adventure with Izuku lmaooo.

Thanks so much PB!

Send me in some letters to ask questions about my fics!

#animaniacs #bnha #separated #bec speaks

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shewillreadyou · 3 years

Text

Becoming: Chapter 3 - Gotta find my way back....to you.

As always. I hope that you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing.

A/N: This is my third part to this TRR love story. Liam and Karis reconnect in Paris. Will she hear him out? Her thoughts are in BOLD

Get caught up: Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Disclaimers: All characters are property of Pixelberry

Warnings: Sexual content, and fluff.

Word Count: 1845

Pairings: Liam Rhys x MC (Karis Vasquez)

Song inspiration: Finding my way back to you-Jaheim

Be Kind: Hit the heart button, leave a comment or reblog. It makes a writer so so happy.

“Hello Karis, I’ve missed you,” his eyes darkened.

“Liam,” she refused to look at him.

“Matt this is Liam, Liam, Matt,” she introduces the two.

“My pleasure Matt. Please, excuse us for a moment. Karis, I have to believe that it’s fate that we are here in Paris, almost 4000 miles away from New York, at the same place at the same time,” he smiled.

“Perhaps,” she finally met his eyes.

How is it possible that he looks even better than before? Her heart skipped a beat and butterflies filled her stomach.

“I apologize for interrupting your date,” he glared at Matt.

OMG, he’s jealous, she thought to herself trying to keep a neutral expression.

“Please tell me that you will have a drink with me so we can talk,” he pleaded.

She considered it. Then the anonymous texts crossed her mind, “We don’t have anything to talk about. Aren’t you married?”

Liam looked deeply into her brown eyes and said, “No. I’m not. I’m so sorry that you were given that impression. I owe you an explanation. Please just talk to me.”

“No, Liam. It’s been over a year. You don’t owe me anything,” she quipped. “Matt let’s go.” She leaves money on the table and they turned to walk away.

-----

Once she returns to her apartment, she thanked Matt for dinner and gets settled for the night. She takes a shower, makes some tea, and lights the fireplace. The tea kettle whistles and she moves to the stove to pour the hot water into the cup to steep. There is a knock at the door. When she looks through the peephole it’s Liam. She quickly put on some lip gloss, props her breast up so they look appetizing, and unlocks the door, opening the door partially.

“Liam.”

His mouth falls agape when he drinks in the sight of her in her plum-colored lacy pajamas.

He cleared his throat. “You look, beautiful. May I come in?”

She stepped aside and allowed him to come inside. He smelled just as tasty as she remembered.

“How did you know–”

He interrupted her, “I followed you.”

She giggled, “stalker much?”

He held a bouquet of red roses behind his back.

“These are for you, and no. Not a stalker, a man in love. I let you get away once..”

She smiled and smelled the roses before placing them on the counter. “Thank you, Liam, they are beautiful. You didn’t have to–”

He interrupted. “Of course I did. I have been calling your phone and sending correspondence to your apartment and it’s all been returned. I was sure that I’d never see you again,” he said as he peeked into the bedroom.

“Are you looking for something?” she asks confused.

“Where’s your date?” he asked looking into the dining area.

“Liam, not that it’s any business of yours but Matt was not a date. He is my neighbor and he is at his place. I haven’t been on a date in years.” He looked relieved.

“May I offer you a cup of tea or wine? Sorry, it’s all I have. I just moved in today. Have a seat.”

He just stared at her.

“No, thank you. So, living in Paris, huh?”

She catches him staring and her knees get a little weak.

“Yes. Well, at least for the summer. I’m not one for small talk, you have waited all this time to talk, I’m listening,” she says sharply.

“Right to the point. Right, so uh, Karis, I don’t know where to start.”

She cocks her head to the side. “How about you start with telling me who texted me and how they got my number.”

His eyes sadden. “I am so sorry about that. It was Madeline, one of the suitors vying for my hand.”

“She’s a who? Vying for you what?”

“A suitor. The noble houses in Cordonia each had a representative during the social season. She can be relentless. She must have gotten my phone when I was in the shower. It’s the only time it’s not with me. When I discovered her transgressions she was disqualified from the running. I told myself that she interfered with the one true shot I had at happiness.”

Karis looked confused.

“Listen, I don’t know how to say this and it’s the only way to honestly explain, so I will just come out with it. Remember when I told you that my life is complicated? Well, what that really meant was, I am the crown prince of Cordonia,” he says giving her time to respond.

“Say what? The crown who of what?” She spits her tea back into her cup as reality washes over her. She slowly lowers the teacup and saucer to the coffee table considering his words. “Liam, that doesn’t change anything. I don’t care about titles.”

“I have to choose a wife by the end of the year. There are several suitors competing for my hand, they are all brilliant beautiful women in their own rights, but there is one thing missing,” he explained.

“What’s that?” she asked in a quiet voice.

“They’re not you,” he said in a low husky voice.

“Wow, Liam, I uh, I don’t know what to say,” she settled next to him on the couch. She absentmindedly crossed her legs. His eyes trained on her curves.

“Karis, I have wondered what I would say to you if I ever had the chance.”

She looks at him and raises her eyebrow, “and?”

He grabs her hands and gazes into her eyes, “I don’t know if you felt it too but, I have never felt a connection with anyone like the one I feel with you. I didn’t believe in love at first sight until I met you. I know we have never even been on a proper date, but Karis. I need you. I always thought that I would be destined to marry for the good of my country with no regard for my feelings. Love would have nothing to do with it, until I met you. You literally stole my heart in those few hours at your apartment. You have arrested my every waking thought since. My heart aches for you. My body longs for you. Give me a chance to prove my love. I’m here in Paris for a few more days. Let me take you on a proper date. Let me compete for your heart.”

She is completely flabbergasted. “Liam, I absolutely felt the connection. I was hurt to the tune of a 15-pound weight gain crying over you. Then when I stopped crying I missed you and I couldn’t eat. You have no competition my heart belongs to you alone. I am just now figuring out how to navigate life without you. I threw myself into school took extra hours so that my mind would be occupied and that didn’t even work.”

He gently wiped the tears from her cheeks as he listened. “Liam, I’m a simple city girl with tons of baggage that I can’t ask you to help me carry.” she whimpers.

“So don’t. Let me help you unpack it,” he whispers against her lips. His lips lightly brush against hers. Their kiss is light and gentle. It ignited a fire inside of her that she had never felt.

“I don’t know anything about being a royal,” she whispers.

“Karis, you are the queen of my heart,” he deepens their kiss, pulling her closer. Their tongues danced as his hands roamed her body. She pushed him back laying on top of him. Karis felt Liam harden underneath her.

“Liam, I’m ready. Take me.” He broke their kiss leaning back to look into her eyes pensively.

“Karis, will it be your first time?” he panted.

“Yes, I want it to be with you. I’m ready this time. I’m sure,” she says as her small hand stroke him through his trousers.

“As much as I want to, you are so special to me. This night should be special for you. Let me do this the right way. I want to make love to you. Not just fuck on the couch. If you’ll have me, we’ll have the rest of our lives to do that.”

Her eyes widen. “I guess you have a point,” she said with clear disappointment in her voice.

“Are you going to stay with me tonight?” she asked so quietly.

He kisses her again, “Of course,” he whispered. “I can’t mess your hair up if I leave. Take this thing out.” he chuckles.

She lets her hair down.

“Much better.” He sits up and guides her head to his lap as she lays across the couch.

“What is happening right now?”

He bends over pulling her into a lingering kiss. “It’s just. I missed you. I want to play in your hair. Smell the pears, look into your big brown eyes, study your face, run my hands down your body, you know basically torture myself.”

They spent the night talking, about Cordonia, about school, about why she is in Paris and her internship, they talked until she dosed off from exhaustion. When the sun rose and peaked through the french windows, she was disappointed to find Liam gone. She moved from the couch to the bed easily falling back into her slumber.

She woke a short while later to a knock at the door. It was Liam. He was holding a tray with breakfast overflowing.

“Good morning Angel,” he smiled.

“Hey you. Where’d you sneak off to?” He smirked motioning for her to get back in bed.

“Well, I wanted to cook you breakfast. But you didn’t have groceries and I needed to make some arrangements for our day. I didn’t want to wake you.”

She rolled her eyes taking in all the food on the tray.

“Your highness cooks?” she smirked.

“I do what I do, and I do it well.”

They both situated themselves on the bed. Liam raised a strawberry to her lips. She bit her bottom lip before the sides of her mouth curl into a smile.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she inquired.

“Spoiling you. I intend to spoil you as long as you allow it.” he said in a low husky voice.

Her center throbbed.

“Well, you better enjoy yourself because tomorrow, I have to study and I start work on Monday. When do you fly out?”

He looks her directly in the eye. “Karis. I have no intention of leaving here without you. We leave on Monday,” he said with fire in his eyes.

“I guess you are going to have to be disappointed. I can’t blow this internship off to follow you,” she said matter of factly.

He smirked.

“We’ll see. We have a big day planned. We need to eat, then you might need a nap. I plan on keeping you up all night.” he chuckled. “I may or may not be kidding. You should get dressed. Wear something nice but pack an overnight bag too. After we finish breakfast, I’m going back to my hotel to get ready. I’ll send a car for you when it’s time,” he instructed.

“You’re kinda cocky aren’t you?” she smiled.

“I got a big ego.” He winked at her.

“Umm, who told you and your ego I would spend my whole day with you? What do you have planned anyway?” she smirked seductively.

“Wouldn’t you like to know…” he said as he fed her another grape.

Tagging: @txemrn @pixie88 @khoicesbyk @blackkingliamstan @mom2000aggie @shannonwrote @hopelessromanticmonie @fanjessfic @dcbbw @lucy-268 @choiceslady @twinkleallnight @blackkingliamstan @bebepac @mainstreetreader @romereadingshop @romewritingshop @lem-20 @texaskitten30 @maurine07 @queenjilian @secretaryunpaid

**I only tag those who ask for it. Let me know if you want added or removed 💖

#choices fanfiction #the royal romance #trr au fanfic #trr #fanfic #fandom #fanfiction #Meet Karis #prince liam #shewillreadyou #kim reads #kim reblogs

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tcheschirewrites · 4 years

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Hey, are you participating in NaNoWriMo? Have you ever? And what was your experience like? I'm considering it but I feel so intimidated because I know I won't be able to commit to it wholeheartedly. Lowering my expectations and pacing myself would seem like the perfect solution but work kills my creative brain cells by the seconds. I wouldn't be surprised if by the end of November I've only written half of page of alien language. Any advice? Also does Nano have to be a new project?

Oh man, Nano. I’m well familiar with Nano, and I’ve participated a few times (to varying degrees of success). This got very long, so I’m putting a cut.

The first time I attempted Nano was in 2006 for my novel Seerking. I had heard about it from a friend who was in an LJRP I was in, and she encouraged me to try it. I was still in high school at the time, and very frankly I did not have the dedication necessary to complete it. I got a lot of worldbuilding complete, but very little writing. I got about two pages of prose, and three notebooks of character and setting history, as well as a fairly detailed outline. I still have all of this.

The second time I attempted was in 2009, for a story that is based heavily on the Iron&Wine song ‘Boy With a Coin’. I got a little bit further, but I got stuck in a few places. I think it’s because my idea was bigger than my life experience, and I also got stuck in a lot of small details. Additionally, my first Word document (where I got about two chapters in?) was destroyed when my laptop’s hard drive just straight gave up on life - I did buck up and rewrite quite a bit, though it didn’t sing quite the same notes, and I have this handwritten copy still. (It’s possible I tried again with this same project the year after? I don’t remember tbvh)

My third attempt was in 2011, about a goverment operative and a faun. This one I got the furthest, and I still have the original handwritten draft and the typed copy. I pantsed this one, 100%. To this day, I still don’t know how this story ends, but I’d love to attempt a rewrite someday.

Then, unfortunately, from around 2012 until Fall of last year, I stopped writing period. I was in a real bad situation, and just didn’t have the energy for anything, let alone a novel. My most recent experience with Nano as an organization was Camp Nano, which is a much looser structure, and it is in May and July. Rather than the hard and fast 50k, you set your own goal when you announce your project.

I can understand your hesitance to participate, honestly. Nano is a beast of a project – to reach the minimum goal of 50k in the 30 allotted days, you have to produce 1667 words of new content every single day. This is approximately 3 pages, maybe a little more – which is a lot when you’re already stressed! And if you miss a day you have to adjust your daily totals for every following day, and the pressure starts to mount! It’s a lot, even if it is only meant to be a neat little challenge (mostly, I’ll cover benefits a bit later).

Now, my recommendations are going to follow two paths: planning, and pantsing. If you are naturally a planner – that is, you like having rough outlines, refined outlines, you like having character data, history, etc – then I recommend you have as much of your novel planned ahead of time before November 1st hits. Whatever notes or files you need to have set aside before you begin writing those first words, have them ready – read over them, refine them, and have them memorized front to back so that you know what your story is meant to be. If you are a natural planner, and you have not done this by today’s date (it’s 30 October where I am), then I do not recommend participating this year because it will stress you the fuck out and you might even make yourself sick.

The other popular option is called pantsing – essentially, you have a rough idea, and you’re flying by the seat of your pants. (This is literally what it is called on the Nano website, by the by – there are badges for it and everything.) If you are a pantser, then I still recommend a little preparation, but of a wildly different degree and type: find your story’s ambiance. If you are a pantser, think about what sparked the idea for your story? Try to put yourself back in the place (emotionally or physically) where you had the most intense version of the idea, and hang onto that feeling with both hands. This is incredibly important, because it will allow you to harken back to that feeling without chasing the high of first being hit by that feeling. If you are a pantser, focus heavily on the feelings you want to evoke with your story, and let your heart guide you.

Now the third option (I know what I said, I lied all right) is if you are a combination planner-pantser; you don’t want to have the rigidity of the outline, but you also like having a little bit of structure, or at least a direction to go in. If you are a combination planner-pantser, I recommend doing very soft preparation for yourself in the week leading up to Nano. So things like building yourself a playlist, maybe doodle what your main looks like in your head, or small details like character names and short dossiers. If you’re able, I recommend coming up with an ending, so you know what the end-goal looks like and you are able to track your story’s completion in your head.

For all three, I would recommend deciding ahead of time how you want to write your novel – are you going to type it up in a word processor (please make so many backups, do not live the heartache that I had to)? Are you going old school and hand writing it? Are you feeling like a boss that day and maybe want to dictate it into an app on your phone? Pick one, and make a dedicated space for your novel. You can mix them up, certainly, but make sure that you are able to consolidate effectively or you’re going to stress yourself out.

Now, you asked whether or not it has to be a “new” project. There are actually a few answers to this, depending on what you mean. Now, if we are to assume that “new” strictly means a brand new, fresh idea that you have just come up with specifically for National Novel Writer’s Month 2020, then the answer is no; it does not. Back in the day, there were a few purists that insisted you had to have a designated project every year, but like most purists, they’re just being assholes about it.

As a matter of fact, it does not even have to be a brand new project that you have not written any words for at all – however, if you do have an idea that you have already written for, you are not permitted to use any of your previous word count toward your goal. This is definitely a no-no. Personally, I’ve tried this, and I found it rough – I liked having the designated project, and I liked the buildup to it.

If you have, though, an idea that you’ve worked over and you are simply ready to start putting words on a page, this, I think, is Nano’s sweet spot.

Now, I know most of this 1000+ answer has been cautioning and reminders that Nano is tough – because, well, it is. It is a huge undertaking, and I feel like every participant has their horror stories to tell about their experience. But I want to reassure you that it isn’t 100% a hard slog to a dreary end; there are so many tools that Nano themselves provide you, as well as user-run communities and workshops, and even some benefits after the fact. These are the things I want to wrap this post up with.

Firstly, no matter how tired or stressed you are, if you register for nanowrimo.org, you’ll begin receiving daily emails from published authors and past participants. These range from silly and tedious, to incredibly comforting. My favorite one, which I cannot remember a lot of specifics from, was from a man who detailed his experience and reassured everyone that the work doesn’t have to be good – it just has to be 50k words. That’s it. You can have typos and errors all over the place, plot holes of all shapes and sizes, and a main character who doesn’t make any sense at all; it doesn’t matter, because the point of the event is simply to finish. Neil Gaiman has also said a time or two that your first draft’s only purpose is to exist. Just get the words out; you can fix them later.

Additionally, when you are completing your profile, you can enter in your location and there are designated forums for participants in your area. In the past, there have been meetups for group-writes and workshops as well, though I imagine they will be more along the lines of Discord calls this year. If you are a social person who needs a pair of eyes to help you work through a scene, Nano’s got your back. They will also send you statistics for your area for the average word count, daily word count, past winners, etcetera. It can sometimes feel like you are very alone during this difficult project, but a lot of these things bring a very human element to the event.

Finally, what comes after you have completed. A lot of these benefits are newer than my time, but I browsed through them when I did my Camp Project. When you complete the goal in the allotted time, you get a neat little badge for your webpage and a printable certificate for the immediate boost of dopamine. But you will also get discounts to some neat shit, like different word processing applications (I got 50% off of Scrivener when I finished Camp), as well as things like The Great Courses, discounts in the swag store, etc. But more than that, there are partnering websites who want to help you on the road to being published. Wattpad is in this group, but I believe also big name publishers (I might have seen Penguin on there at one point) are willing to work with winners to get their works distributed.

All that said, I recommend every writer attempt Nano at least once in their writing career. Even if I personally have not done so stellar in the past, it is a fantastic learning experience for all of the work that goes into producing a novel from start to finish – it forces you to know your limits, and sometimes to overcome them. I don’t think I will be participating this year – I have so many side projects that I want to get done, but I will very likely drop everything to do it next year. I have two novels that are real roughly built up that I could do for this, though, and I would love the dedicated time to spend on them.

#asked and answered jim #red-write-district #writeblr #writing advice #nanowrimo #i'm actually really fond of every nano project i've ever done #even if i didn't finish any of them #i still go back and read them sometimes #and i still have a lot of like plot details in my head for them

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hhunjins · 5 years

Text

Pairing: Changbin x gender neutral reader (with housemate Minho)

Genre: college!au, fluff, lowkey strangers to lovers

Word Count: ~4,600

Warnings: Alcohol, language

Notes: I started this almost three weeks in advance but I still ended up posting late so…oops. Hope you guys enjoy it nevertheless! Happy 20th to the buffest smol boy I know! You deserve all the happiness!

Summary: Changbin was nothing like you thought he was, and maybe, just maybe this party might not turn out so bad.

Every moment that passes by is another one spent in regret. Minho is currently getting shitfaced on the other side of the room and having the time of his life, so you’re stuck sitting in a spinning barstool as tipsy college students continue to yell around you.

Listening to Minho is always a hit or miss, mostly misses, but your housemate was so adamant about dragging you to his frat’s party that you felt like you had to indulge him this once. You regretted it the moment you heard the party from a block away. Minho’s gleeful expression as he pulled up to the curb and dragged you out of the car with a firm hand wrapped around your wrist eased the swirling in your stomach a bit but then he ditched you for his friends and now you’re lonely.

While you knew everyone here, it wasn’t like you could hold a conversation with them. They were Minho’s friends, and you were Minho’s other friend. Two different worlds that didn’t mix. But at least they were nice and offered you drinks.

You make another rotation in your seat, using your feet to spin yourself around in the chair as you fiddle with your phone. The air is hot and somewhat sticky from how many people there are packed into this house, even spilling out into the front and back yard. You’re surprised the cops haven’t been called but living in a college town where the majority of the residents were students has its perks. After all, Saturday nights are the best time to drink to forget. If only you dared, of course. Minho called you a wholesome child but, in your defense, if you went as far as Minho, there would be no one to get him into bed and deal with his whiny ass when he wakes up the next day with a massive hangover. It was more of a favor for him than anything, but Minho would beg to differ.

“Hello!”

You flinch when you feel an arm sling itself over your shoulders and a head press against your shoulder. “Hi, Felix,” you say when you recognize the familiar weight of the boy who loves to cling onto you whenever possible.

Felix grins lazily, leaning even more into your personal space and draping his entire body over your back like a cat. “I didn’t know you were into this life.” He speaks slowly, like he’s processing his words as they come from his mouth. His cheeks are warm, and his cheeks are dusted pink. “Why are you sitting here being lonely?”

“Minho dragged me here,” you say, as if it answers anything.

But it seems to suffice since Felix lets out a low hum. He swivels you side to side on the chair, twisting his body just enough to create movement. “I’m going to get something to drink,” he mumbles after a while.

“Okay.”

And then Felix’s warmth is gone from your back.

You make another round on your chair, daring to swing your legs back and forth just a bit to give yourself something to focus on. The way the zippers on your jeans reflect the dim light when you sit at the perfect angle. The way your hands are clammy as they grip your phone because you want to leave but Minho has the keys to his car and he’s not going to let you go without a fight.

Though you’re slumped over in your seat, Felix’s blond head catches your eye as it bobs around in the sea of dark hair. He appears a few moments later, walking slowly and holding his cup with two hands like he’s cradling something precious. His eyes are trained on it, to the point where he’s almost cross eyed, as he inches closer and closer to you as if walking faster than snail’s pace would spill his drink.

At this point, you’re sure Felix is at least halfway gone because normal Felix is kind of an idiot, but not like this. He looks up when he’s about two (large) steps away from you and gives you a look like a child during Christmas. “This is for you!” he says.

It’s kind of like a movie, how everything seems to move as fast as Felix did in the next few seconds. Like someone slow-moed this exact moment just to make you suffer. It takes a simple elbow to his back to knock him off balance and Felix’s drink goes flying right into your white shirt. If life were a comedy, there would be the corny recorded laugh track going off in the background because you’re stunned into silence as Felix stares at this cup on the floor.

You knew you shouldn’t have come.

Apparently all the money Minho pays for his dues doesn’t go towards decent toilet paper because your shirt is still soaked and there are flecks of it stuck to the fabric where it rubbed off with your incessant dabbing. Felix is groaning right outside, probably slumped against the wall beside the door as he mumbles apologies through sniffles. You’re not sure if it’s the alc that’s getting to him or if he’s actually so sad about the drink that he’s crying, but your desperation to go home is too high to be thinking about Felix’s hurt feelings.

It takes a moment to process Felix’s slow “hey” and the door to the bathroom suddenly opening with a loud slam against the wall, but then you’re face to face with Seo Changbin, who looks surprisingly sober as he stares back.

“Oh. Sorry, but I really need to use the bathroom.”

You wince. “Okay.” You roll out a handful of toilet paper around your hand and slip out the door.

“Ah, wait.” Changbin’s hand is warm as it wraps around your wrist and you stare at the hand for a moment before looking up at him with a raised eyebrow.

Changbin seems to be surprised himself at the touch but he immediately lets go of your wrist and begins shrugging off his hoodie jacket. “To cover your,” he gestures vaguely at the wet stain on your shirt and gives you a pitying look as he says, “I’ll find you some paper towels that might help better.” Then he nudges you into the dim hallway by swatting the air like he’s shooing a fly.

The hoodie in your hand is soft and still has his body heat clinging onto its fibers. You’re not sure if you’re more shocked that Seo Changbin is here out of all places, that he talked to you, or that he gave you his hoodie like you were close friends.

“Y/n?” Felix tugs at your pant leg. “I’m sorry,” he says, eyes wide and pouty like that one Puss in Boots meme floating around on the internet.

“Felix, it’s fine.”

“I tried to stop him,” Felix continues. His fist is still holding onto your jeans. “He walked in anyway.”

“It’s really fine, Felix. I think we need to get you to bed though.” The words come out with a little soulless laugh. You can’t really believe your luck. Dragged to a frat party you didn’t really want to go to and now you’re going to be D.D. for your economics seatmate because he can’t even walk straight. What a night. You squat so you’re eye to eye and put a both hands on either sides of his cheeks, wad of toilet paper forgotten. “Did you drive here?”

Light spills out from the bathroom when the door opens again and you flinch a little at the sudden brightness.

“Uh, am I interrupting something?” Changbin questions. He raises his hands in mock surrender when you raise an eyebrow. “Okay. Nothing. Sorry,” he says quickly. “Lix, you okay?”

Felix lets out a sleepy mumble and promptly slumps forward into your shoulder. Out like a fucking light.

“Umm, would you happen to have somewhere to let him sleep?” you ask as you maneuver Felix into a position where his head isn’t digging into your collarbone.

“Do you know where he lives? I’ll just take him home.” Changbin gives you a hesitant smile, just a little tug of the corner of his lip, as he squats down beside you to poke Felix’s cheek. “I don’t think leaving him here would be a good idea.”

In all the years you’ve known Changbin, this is probably the most you’ve ever talked to him since…ever. He was always kind of untouchable, but not because he was way out of your league or popular at any point from elementary to high school. Actually, he was that weird kid everyone kind of avoided because he was always wearing black, even in sweltering hot, humid summers and hunched over a desk or any hard surface while scribbling into his barely-held-together notebook.

And that was why it was so weird to see him at 11 a.m. at a party because you never would have taken awkward, quiet Seo Changbin to be a frat boy. College changes people you guess.

You let out a small noise of assent as you struggle to stand while balancing Felix’s weight against you. Your still damp shirt presses against your skin again and makes you cringe all over again at the feeling.

Without a word, Changbin lifts Felix from your grip. “Help him onto my back. My car’s just down the block.”

All the times you’ve compared Felix to a cat is nothing compared to the way he is curled up in the backseat with his head on your lap…like a cat. Your pat his head mindlessly as you watch Changbin’s eyes flitter occasionally to check his mirrors through the rearview mirror.

Changbin drives consistently, carefully, unlike Minho’s random bursts of speed and quick braking. You’re not sure if he’s purposefully going slow so Felix doesn’t throw up all over his car but you’re thankful for a smooth ride nevertheless.

“Make a right. It’s the third building. You can probably just park in the street. I’ll call his roommate.” How you seem to know everyone in Minho’s circle of friends will always be a miracle, and for once you’re thankful that he’s a social butterfly that somehow snagged every useful phone number out there.

Changbin drums his fingers against the wheel as he changes lanes and follows your directions.

To say Jeongin is annoyed when he picks up is putting it lightly, but he grumbles that he’ll be out to collect his “lightweight bother of a friend” after he finishes this round of Smash.

Changbin has found a parking spot during your lengthy call with Jeongin and has the windows rolled down. The crisp night air is refreshing to inhale and you roll up the sleeves of Changbin’s hoodie so your arms can feel it too.

“He’s here.” Changbin’s voice breaks the silence and you look to see Jeongin walking towards the car with an angry pout. It would be great teasing material if his roommate wasn’t passed out on your lap. Poor boy.

You open the door and scoot out first, letting Changbin carefully coax Felix out of the backseat when he appears by your side. “Alright, Lix. Time for bed okay? Be good to Jeongin.”

Felix’s incoherent babbling might be an indicator that he still has some consciousness but, judging from the way Jeongin has to shift his weight to balance, that might just be him sleep-talking.

“Watch my car? I think Jeongin needs help.”

You nod and cross your arms over your chest. “Okay.”

When Changbin returns ten minutes later, he finds you sitting on the curb in front of his car, bright light from your phone illuminating your face. “Do you want to go home or back to the–”

“Home. Please.” The part of you that isn’t super drained shudders at the prospect of returning to that place. Instead, you flap your arms so the sleeves of Changbin’s hoodies are unrolled and then pull them to cover your hands. “I don’t think I’d ever go back.”

Changbin laughs a little at that, offering you a hand and pulling you upwards. “Actually do you want ice cream before I take you back? I’m craving.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Somehow, ice cream ends up being sitting on the trunk of Changbin’s 2010 Civic in your driveway as you hold your half of a twin popsicle while pointing out tiny, flickering stars in the sky. Changbin has long finished it, biting through it like the heathen he is, and is leaning back on the back window with a little cup of vanilla ice cream while sucking on the wooden stick used to scoop it.

For some reason, this doesn’t feel awkward. You would expect it to be with how much, or rather little, history you share. Maybe it was because neither of you tried to force conversation and just let comfortable silence blanket the two of you. It’s nice. You would go to parties more often if it meant doing stuff like this afterwards with Changbin.

Wait. No. Scratch that last bit. Why did that even become a thought anyway?

“Y/n?”

“Hmm?”

“When was the last time you visited home?”

The list of weird things that have happened between you and Changbin in the span of two hours just keeps getting longer and longer.

“Home?” You shrug. “A month ago or so.” Glancing over at him, you ask, “What about you?”

“I haven’t come back since we went off to college,” he confesses. “There isn’t much to come back to, really.”

“Oh.” The words could be taken as passive aggressive, but his tone doesn’t sound so.

Another glance to Changbin results in eye contact, which he breaks first to scoop his ice cream. “You know, I was surprised to see you at the party.” He nudges your shoulder with his arm and tilts his head to the side. There’s a little smile that’s threatening to form. You can tell by the way the corner of his lips twitch and how his eyes seem to glitter like the faint stars you were supposed to be looking at.

You laugh a little, finally biting a chunk out of your popsicle since you sucked out all the flavor from the end of it. “Wasn’t really my choice.”

“I’m glad you went though. Even if you ended up having to deal with drunk Lix and a dirty shirt.” He nudges you again, but there’s a smile this time.

Your heart kind of maybe flutters a bit. “Yeah. I’m glad too.”

Silence blankets you again, but this time your heart is beating a little bit faster since Changbin is that much closer. In all the years you’ve known him, he was always background noise, but now when he’s the only person you’re with and the only remnant of home, there’s something different when you look at him. It wasn’t just the physical changes from skinny, lanky Changbin to toned arms and fuller cheeks. Nor was it the slit in his eyebrow that made him look almost completely different from the boy you knew since you were in grade school. It was the confident glint in his eyes and the way he carried himself that made him feel untouchable this time.

Maybe it would be an overstatement to say that you may or may not have a little thing for this new changed Changbin, but there’s something definitely there that makes your cheeks warm and your heart palpitate.

“You little shit, you left me last night!”

You are rudely awaken by a pillow to your face as Minho smacks you roughly with it again. “What the–”

“You left me! I was looking all over for you! You didn’t even bother to check your phone!” Minho smacks you one last time for good measure and huffs. Crossing his arms on his chest, he musters up the meanest looking glare he can and watches you rub sleep out of your eyes. When the world is in focus, you find that Minho is still in the clothes from last night, though his hair is a little messy. “When did you get back? Or better, how did you get back?”

“You sound like my mom,” you grumble, pulling your blanket over your face to block him from view. “I told you I didn’t want to come and I had to take care of Felix and I got a ride home around 2 a.m.” “From who?”

Minho’s eyes scan the room and zero in on a hoodie that definitely isn’t yours draped over your chair. “Oh my god. Whose jacket is that?”

Before you can untangle yourself from your blanket and tell Minho to mind his own business, he’s already swiping the hoodie off the chair. He ignores the weird look you give him when he sniffs it and then lets out a bark of laughter. “Seo Changbin?”

“What the fu–” You wonder exactly what frat boys do that lead them into knowing who is who based on their smell, but that might be Minho? You’re not sure, but at this point you’re too flustered – and scared – to ask.

“Changbin drove you home?”

“Yes?”

“He gave you his hoodie?”

“To borrow,” you clarify. Your mind immediately thinks back to his sweet smile after bidding you goodnight.

Minho’s narrowed eyes remind you of what his cats look like when they’re sleepy. “How do you know Changbin? And exactly what did you do last night after leaving a party I took you to with another dude?” he interrogates.

“He’s from home. And we took Felix home and got ice cream. That’s literally it.” You’re going to leave out the part where Changbin gave you a playful wink after leaving you with a promise of meeting up again hanging in the air. You’re also going to neglect to mention how it totally sounded flirty and how he wrote his number on your wrist after telling you to hold onto his jacket for the time being.

“It gives us a reason to meet up again,” he said. And it totally didn’t make you go a little weak at the knees. You’re not in love with Seo Changbin. You’ve known (of) each other for far too long to fall so easily. Nope. Definitely not.

You soon find that Changbin is a fervent emoji user and meme connoisseur. He double (honestly, quadruple texts) like a monster but he never fails to leave a smile on your face. It’s gotten to the point where Minho is seriously doubting that you “just got ice cream” last week but he won’t – can’t – say anything in case you decide to suffocate him in his sleep. It’s irritating to have him peek over your shoulder whenever you walk into the room while on your phone and ask, “what’cha doing?” like the nosy shit he is. And If you answer with anything other than “texting Changbin” he’ll go on a lecture about hiding things from your housemate when you’re supposed to be best friends, and you’ve heard that spiel too many times you’ve basically memorized it by heart. So you reply with, “texting Changbin” and disregard the smug grin and eyebrow quirk on his face.

Life is good. Peaceful for the most part. And a little bit warmer now with a new hoodie and friend.

“I never would have thought this day would come.”

Changbin looks up from his bowl of jjajangmyun and blinks. “Huh?” he says through his full mouth. For anyone else (namely Minho), you would have called it obnoxious and told them off but Changbin looks kind of cute with his cheeks full.

“I didn’t think I would befriend you at all, even though I knew we were going to the same college,” you explain. “You were really different back home.”

Changbin slurps up his noodles and takes a bite of picked radish before going back to scribbling notes into his tablet. “I guess? I didn’t really have the chance to change back home. There’s no one here to stop me from doing what I want.” He finishes off the rest of his radish slice.

“What does that mean?”

“Everyone kind of deemed me the weirdo at home and I was okay with it, I guess. At least there wasn’t bullying or anything. We all had our respective groups and I did better on my own.”

It all sounds so nonchalant, but you can’t help but feel guilty for not even trying to reach out.

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Changbin says, like he can read your thoughts. “It’s really nothing. I’m here now and living my life.” He smiles to reassure you. “But if it makes you feel better, you get the title of being my first friend from home.”

The words make your heart to a tumble in your chest. Your ears are tingling, probably turning the same shade of pink your cheeks have taken. “Oh. Cool.”

You rearrange your legs so you’re sitting cross-legged on your chair and resume your work. There is the occasional clinking of your chopsticks against the bowl when you eat, but no words are exchanged as you continue with your studying. It isn’t until you hear the front door open and Minho’s loud voice announcing his entrance that you realize that hours have passed since Changbin came over.

“Y/n, you won’t believe– oh hello Changbin.”

Changbin looks up and gives a little wave. “Hello.”

Minho’s eyes flicker to you, back to Changbin, and then to the mess scattered on the kitchen table. “Studying?”

“Yes,” you answer quickly, recognizing the glint in his eyes. “You can join us, Minho.”

Minh grins, almost evilly, and shakes his head. “That’s okay. Have fun on your little study date.” He leaves after making fake kissy faces at you and ignoring your “it’s not a date.”

Honestly you don’t even know if it is because you migrated here after meeting up somewhere on campus and grabbing boba. And this isn’t the first time either. It’s the fifth, in fact, but it’s not like you’re keeping track of how many times Changbin has planned a rendezvous and bought you food. You’re also not keeping track of how many times you check your phone in hopes that the recent notification is a text from Changbin (at least once every ten minutes). And you’re definitely not keeping track of how many nights you’ve fallen asleep with a smile on your face after texting Changbin (every night since you texted him back the morning you were rudely awakened by your dear housemate).

Changbin watches your roommate leave and only turns back when the coast is clear. “So if this isn’t a date,” he says.

“Huh?”

Changbin tilts his head to the side and sucks in his lower lip between his teeth to bite. His eyebrows furrow in concentration. “Since this isn’t a date, do you want to go on one with me?”

What.

The word apparently gets spoken out loud in that exact, dead tone and Changbin looks amused before he shrugs and goes back to scrolling through his fancy touchscreen device. “Just a question. No is an option.”

Your heart is doing a gymnastics routine that you didn’t know it could ever do just because a boy asked you out on a date. But this isn’t just any boy. This is Seo Changbin! your mind screams. So you flounder like a fish out of water.

“What,” you repeat.

Changbin smiles to himself, ducking his head and resting his chin on a fist on the table.

Changbin’s hooded jacket has made itself at home in your closet, along with his sweater with his fraternity’s name on it and three of his t-shirts because you like oversized t-shirts but have no money of your own to buy them. He indulges you in raiding his closet every once in a while and secretly loves the fact that you wear his clothes around on lazy days and even to class if you’re really feeling lazy. What’s even better is that some of the clothes he wears himself finds a home in a special section of your closet.

It’s quite frightening how fast your lives intertwine and how he has become a constant. The first person you text good morning and the last you text goodnight. The first person to come to mind when you see something new to eat around campus. The first person you call when something funny happens and you need to let someone else hear about it. He’s just the first for anything and everything.

Changbin jokes sometimes about this being part of his lifetime master plan to make you fall for him after learning about the mere exposure effect in his psychology class, but you think it’s more than just history and proximity that pulls you to him.

There are times you wish you knew this Changbin before, because then college wouldn’t have been so terrifying. He is everything you need, even if it’s cheesy as hell to admit. Minho has hinted at (more like shoved down your throat with his unceasing lectures) how Changbin never seems to shut up about you and it’s getting annoying and how “you should get your lovesick boyfriend to stop so I don’t have to see and hear about you every moment of my life.” You pay no mind every time just to spite him.

It just feels surreal sometimes, like when you’re sitting on the passenger’s side in his car and his right hand just tugs your left one from your phone to slot his fingers between yours. Or when you wake up from a nap and find him still seated next to you on the bed while working on his homework. Or even when you brush your teeth together in your tiny bathroom with matching toothbrushes distinguished by the names you’ve stuck onto them after you got your hands on Minho’s label maker.

“Oh my god, you still have that thing?”

Changbin jerks upwards, slamming the cover to his notebook closed and pressing both hands on the cover before he realizes that you’ve finished your shower and currently have a towel over your head. “Oh, yeah. I’ve had it since forever,” he says.

“I know.” You plop down at the edge of his bed and begin to towel your hair dry. “It’s falling apart.”

It doesn’t take long for Changbin to put away this things and scooch over to you. His hands stop your movement, taking the towel from your grip, and begin to gently dry your hair. “Don’t fall asleep on me,” he chuckles when you slowly lean forward after being lulled to sleep with his ministrations.

“Feels nice,” you mumble.

It’s back to being quiet again until Changbin begins to hum lowly, like he’s trying not to make it obvious.

“I’ve never heard of that song before,” you comment as you turn your head just enough to see him out of the corner of your eye.

Changbin looks thoughtful, biting his lower lip before letting it loose. It’s shiny with saliva and just a tad more pink and you kind of want to kiss him.

“I wrote it for you.”

Changbin leaves the towel on your head and disappears from your side before you can even process what he means. He makes a loud noise when you reach to lift it so you sit with obscured vision until he returns to the edge of the bed. From under the towel, you can see his laptop and his finger tap the spacebar. The same song he was humming begins to play, and while it’s kind of rough on the edges (you can tell he recorded with his phone mic) it sounds like a masterpiece.

“What is this?” you ask.

“For you.” Changbin lifts the towel before capturing your lips in a soft kiss.

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