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creambunnie · 3 years

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Once Again📖

ONEWE - Kanghyun x Y/N (angst)

enjoy!

From : Kang Pingu 🐧

- if you are done taking pictures with your family and friends, meet me in the classroom for a bit♡ -

you grinned when you received his message and excused yourself from your parents and friends before heading towards the classroom of the last year of your highschool life.

it was finally your graduation day and Hyungu planned to celebrate together after celebrating with your families respectively.

you arrived at the classroom but no one was there. you pouted and decided to wait by sitting on one of the desks. you scanned the classroom for the last time, absorbing every single detail of the place where you created bittersweet memories with your classmates. it was also the place where Hyungu confessed about his feelings to you.

you smiled widely as you recalled his bold yet funny confession. he put up a brave front but was actually so nervous that when you responded back to his feelings, he fell down because his knees got weak. your friends were quite worried when they heard you started dating Hyungu. well, Hyungu did not really have a good reputation, among the students and the teachers.

but you ensured your friends that you would be careful and that you were sure Hyungu was serious about your relationship.

you snapped out of your thoughts and decided to wait for Hyungu at the door. you peeked out to see if your boyfriend was already on his way to the classroom, but instead, a couple caught your eyes.

they were at the staircase, the girl was backfacing you so you did not see her face. the boy's head was also tilted to the side so his face was blocked too.

"oooh, a new couple? but really? at the stairs? i wonder who that guy is, he looks super familiar." you thought and was about to give the 'couple' their private space when the boy straightened up, revealing none other than Kang Hyungu. he smiled at the girl and stayed for a while as the girl patted his head before walking down the stairs towards your classroom.

you blinked a few times as you tried to process what you just witnessed. you felt your heart squeezed in pain as tears started flowing down your cheeks.

"did... did i just jinxed myself?". you mumbled to yourself. you quickly took your bag and wanted to leave quickly but Hyungu was faster.

he opened the door with a big smile but it quickly turned into worry when he saw you crying. "babe? what happened?". he asked softly as he approached you.

you avoided him and was about to exit the classroom when Hyungu grabbed your wrist as he balanced the box he was carrying with his other hand and his body.

"babe, what happened??". he asked again.

you sniffed and pulled your hand away. "you, all these while i thought you changed. but i was wrong. you are still the same playboy Kang Hyungu. old habits die hard, huh? you came here late because you were having a fun time with another girl? i should have listened to my friends. dating you was a mistake,".

Hyungu frowned, confused about what you were talking about.

"huh? what do you mean? i was late because i was preparing my presents for you,". Hyungu explained.

you frowned deeper at his words. "i saw everything, Hyungu. you don't have to lie! if i am not a good partner, then just tell me that, no need to cheat behind me, just break up with me!".

Hyungu was confused at your sudden burst of anger. "but you're the only one that i like! have you seen me flirting with others when i started dating you?".

you rolled your eyes and glared at him. "i wouldn't know, you might have done it when i'm not around!".

Hyungu sighed and ruffled his hair in frustration. "do you not trust me?". he asked.

"no, i don't.". you replied without hesitation. you gulped your pain when you see the hurt in his eyes.

"look into my eyes and tell me that you didn't feel any sincerity from me in these 5 months that we've been together." Hyungu asked with teary eyes.

your heart felt so painful. but you had to do what was best for you. you promised your friends to be careful so you were going to keep that promise.

"it must have been fun playing with me, right? just like how you played with other girls. i really thought i was the special person who could change you. but i was being pathetic. i'm just an idiot who fell for the school's infamous playboy.".

a tear finally fell on Hyungu's cheek. he was hurt. extremely hurt. he then stretched his arm to give you the box that he had been carrying since just now.

"i want to give some presents to congratulate you for graduation. please accept them." he managed to whisper.

you frowned at his sudden change of topic and slapped his hands away together with the box.

you heard something broke when the box made contact with the hard ground. if you didn't know any better, you would have thought that you just heard your heart shattered.

Hyungu froze on his spot as he stared at the box. you quickly ran out of the classroom before you softened back up for your ex.

and that was the last time you met Hyungu before the both of you moved on with your lives. you remembered to quickly block Hyungu's number and blocked him on every social medias that you had. you didn't want anything to do with him anymore.

you were embarrassed of yourself. you were so proud when you started dating Hyungu, you were so confident that he was serious about you. but at the end, it was just your imagination. he didn't change at all.

~4 years later~

after graduating from high school, you got accepted into your dream university and studied in Japan for 4 years majoring in journalism. writing has been your hobby since you were little and aiming to be a well-known journalist was your ambition.

it was not easy to leave things back at your home country behind you especially after getting your heart broken so harshly on your graduation day. but you believed working hard towards your dream was a good way to distract yourself from all the unnecessary drama.

you focused on school and excelled all your semesters. you became the best student and was given the honour of being the valedictorian of your cohort.

it was finally time for you to come home to your family. they did visit you a few times when you were in Japan, but the feeling of coming back home was different.

From : Yubi❤

-you're back in South Korea?! great timing, our class reunion is next Saturday. you better come after skipping 4 years of our reunion dinner !!! we all miss you🥺-

you sighed as you read the message from your close friend. you were not really someone who likes to socialise with others, it's true they were your highschool classmates, but it had been years since you've met them. you might be awkward.

From : Yubi❤

-if you even think of skipping, i'm gonna drag you out of your house😠-

you chuckled and rolled your eyes.

To : Yubi❤

-okay okay, i will come, just text me the venue when it's confirmed.-

you scanned the huge hotel and took a deep breath before walking through the grand entrance. "wow they must be rich to book such a fancy place." you mumbled as you went to the customer service counter to ask for the room number that was booked for your class dinner.

as the staff was looking through the lists, you couldn't help but check out the beautiful architecture. your gaze fell to the floor as you realised that each tile had a different design. "wow, this hotel is totally on another level.". you whispered as you analysed them one by one.

a pair of pink shoes stopped walking and caught your eyes. you raised an eyebrow and looked up slowly to see the owner of the pink shoes.

your breath hitched. you made eye contact with the person. the person's eyes widened as he saw you. just as he was about to walk towards you, a lady grabbed him by his arm and dragged him away, she probably didn't notice you who were a few metres away.

"oi Kanghyun!! will you hurry up and walk? they're all waiting for us in the room already!!". the lady called the person by his nickname.

your thoughts were interrupted when the staff tapped your shoulder gently. "your room number is 3. i will bring you there". you nodded and bowed slightly to thank the staff.

you were now in front of the room. loud excited voices could be heard from the inside. *such youthful energy* you thought and knocked on the door before opening it slowly.

the previous noise quietened down at your entrance. you were frozen at the door. *w--why are they staring at me*. you smiled awkwardly and waved your hand at them.

"hi?". the second you greeted, your former classmates cheered and some even ran to you and gave you hugs and pats. "y/n!! we missed you so much!" "y/n! you are finally home!" "welcome back!!" "how was school in Japan?".

"there there guys, y/n needs to sit first at least. your questions can wait. the evening is still young!". Yubi came to your rescue. you gave her a grateful smile. Yubi smiled back and hugged you tightly. "welcome back!!".

you caught up with your friends. some were working full time at big companies, some were getting engaged, some just finished their studies, like you. you were engrossed in your conversation when a word, or a name, from the table next to you caught your ear.

"Kang Hyungu, how many girlfriends have you had in uni? still a playboy aren't you?" one of the boys joked.

your hand curled up into a fist. you were about to shoot the other table a glare when the lady who dragged Hyungu earlier defended him.

"this guy? trust me, he never dated anyone after highschool. he focused on his studies and never looked at girls. he rejected everyone who confessed to him. i was shocked too, you know being his classmate in highschool and seeing his abrupt change in uni, a whole new experience."

your former classmates widened their eyes as they looked at Hyungu, who was eating silently. his composure was still as cool and cold as ever.

"you are kidding !! he couldn't even be single for a week back then! what do you mean he never dated after highschool?".

the lady, Ara, nodded her head and sighed. "i don't know who broke his heart so bad he didn't even want to date or befriend other girls. that's why i'm stuck to his side." Ara explained and knocked Hyungu's head. Hyungu pouted and rubbed his head as he looked up.

after eavesdropping the conversation, you were surprised too. you turned to look into the direction of his table and saw his pouty face. you gulped. "cute..." you mumbled and quickly turned away when the both of you accidentally made your second eye contact for today.

you almost forgot he was your former classmate too, of course he would be here. you were just too busy with your close friends that you didn't realise his presence earlier.

from your peripheral vision, you sensed Hyungu still staring at you. after a few seconds, you finally let out the breath you were holding in unconciously when you see him turn his head away.

"bye bye y/n!! see you again soon!!" Yubi bid you goodbye as her boyfriend came to pick her up. you waved back at her and waited by the entrance for your ride.

"y/n?". you felt your head tingled as you heard a familiar gentle voice calling your name. you looked up from your phone only to be greeted by none other than Kang Hyungu.

"Hyu--Hyungu... it's been a while". you managed to breathe out.

Hyungu gave a small smile and nodded.

it was awkward. after all, you separated on bad terms and never contacted each other ever since.

Hyungu moved closer to you. his expression looked sad yet happy.

"can i hug you?". Hyungu suddenly asked. you bit your lips. you hesitated before nodding slightly. letting him hug you won't hurt, right?

wrong.

when his arms wrapped around you, your emotions from 4 years ago surged up again. his gentle yet tight hug. his warm scent. his soft face buried into the crook of your neck.

you were frozen. everything was too overwhelming.

"i mis--" Hyungu's words were interrupted when someone called out your name.

you snapped out of your zone and gently pulled yourself away from Hyungu. Hyungu let you go hesitantly as he wiped his teary eyes and looked at the person who called your name.

"ah Harin!! did you wait for long?" you approached the person earlier and patted his shoulder. Harin shook his head and looked at Hyungu.

you thought it was only right to introduce them to each other. "Harin, this is my former classmate, Kang Hyungu, and Hyungu, this is Ju Harin, we went to the same university". Hyungu gulped and bowed slightly towards Harin.

"ni--nice to meet you. thank you for taking care of y/n! i--i should excuse myself now.". Hyungu said as he quickly left you and Harin. Harin shrugged his shoulders and led you to his car.

it had been so long since you came back home, you finally had the time to walk around your neighbourhood. you realised that in the span of 4 years, alot of things could change. you continued walking in the homey streets until you reached your favourite bookshop. you smiled widely and quickly entered it. you were happy the shop was still there.

your body automatically brought you over to the comics section. you enjoyed all sorts of genres but comics were your stress reliever. your eyes widened at some new collections.

"ooh, this one looks interesting". you mumbled as you picked up the new crime comic. "that one is good, you should read it". you jumped at the sudden voice beside your ear.

you quickly turned to your side. Hyungu backed away abit and gave a cheeky smile.

"wh-what are you doing here?". you asked abit too loud than usual because you were shocked. Hyungu blinked and chuckled with a pfft.

"i am here to buy some books, then i saw you looking at that good comic so i decided to greet you. yo!".

you nodded awkwardly and wanted to walk away but Hyungu's words stopped you.

"you know, i can suggest you other new good comics that will surely suit your taste!". you bit your lip and shook your head. "it's okay, i just wanted to look around. thanks for your offer". you bowed and quickly walked away.

Hyungu watched your back moved away from him. his shoulders dropped as he pouted. *did i scare her away?* he thought as he went to the cashier to pay for his books.

you felt blood rushing to your face as you exited the shop. you totally forgot that Hyungu also regularly visits that shop. heck, it used to be one of the places where you always went to during your dates.

despite his bad boy image, Hyungu was surprisingly an avid reader. he always had the best recommendations. you were tempted by his offer but you thought it was weird to suddenly be close again with him.

your mood was abit down after the encounter as old memories came flooding back to your mind. *ah, i thought 4 years were enough to forget about him. but meeting him twice right after coming back like this is not helping at all* you thought as you walked back home.

you tapped your foot on the ground, following the rythm of the song that you were listening to as you waited for Harin in the mall.

you planned to meet up at 2pm but he was abit late so you waited for him inside since the weather was hot.

"we meet again!" you heard as you felt one of your earpiece being pulled out softly. you jumped and turned only to be greeted by none other than, you guessed it, Kang Hyungu.

you frowned and took out your other earpiece. "at this rate, i feel like you're stalking me". Hyungu chuckled and shook his head. "no no, i was here since morning, i had some stuff to do, and then i saw you here alone".

"i'm actually waiting for Harin. ugh why is he so late? i'm hungry.."

when he heard the name, Hyungu's smile was gone. his current expression was unreadable. "oh, well then, i will wait here with you". you let Hyungu be as you scanned the crowd for Harin.

"how was Japan?".

"it was great and refreshing. school was okay too, abit hard but i survived. how about you? you graduated from uni too right recently?". Hyungu nodded.

"i started working at the music shop here, today is actually my off day but i had to fix some things so yeah.."

your mouth turned into an "O" shape as you heard him. he was very interested and quite talented in music back in highschool, it was not a surprise for him to pursue something related to music.

Hyungu saw a familiar face among the crowd. "oh there's H--" he cut his own words when he saw a lady beside Harin, her arm linked with Harin's.

*he is late because he is with another girl? he is cheating on y/n at the place that they're meeting up at?? how dare he?* Hyungu thought as he tried to block your view from Harin. *i gotta protect y/n*.

"yo y/n!! y/n?" Hyungu heard Harin's voice but he still stood in front of you, blocking Harin from seeing you.

you frowned and gently pushed Hyungu aside. "oh Harin! you are finally here!!!" you slapped Harin's arm and quickly turned to the lady beside him.

"Dani!!! you are here too!" you greeted and hugged the lady. Dani hugged you back and passed something to you. "i'm sorry,,, i misplaced the souvenier i bought you so Harin had to search for it with me, that's why we were late.". you cooed at Dani and patted her head. "aww it's okay, thank you for the gift!".

Hyungu looked at the scene with a confused look. you finally remembered him being there and introduced him to Dani. "Dani, this is Hyungu, my former highschool classmate, Hyungu, this is Dani, my former housemate back in Japan!".

Hyungu frowned. *Harin is cheating on y/n with her former housemate?!?!*.

"oii mr boyfriend, where are we going to eat at?". Dani turned to Harin and asked.

Hyungu's eyes widened. *huh???huh???*

"you and y/n are not dating each other?" Hyungu blurted out as he pointed towards you and Harin.

you and Harin looked at each other and shivered in disgust at the same time. "never!! why would you even think that?!" you asked. Harin quickly wrapped his arm around Dani and shook his head. "Dani is the only one for me".

"then why did he pick you up the other night?".

you bursted a pfft, Hyungu's face was hilarious. he was furious and confused at the same time.

"the three of us had plans after my dinner, so Harin picked me up. Dani was in the car too. Harin, being the gentleman he is, volunteered to escort me personally to the car".

Dani couldn't help but laugh too. you were the one who introduced her to Harin anyways, it was funny to think that someone misunderstood Harin and your relationship.

"ok that aside, let's go eat, i'm so hungryy" you whined and linked your arms with Harin and Dani. Hyungu's eyes twitched when he saw how comfortable you were with Harin.

"Hyungu should join us too!! the more the merrier!" Dani invited Hyungu. Hyungu was about to reject but seeing your flustered expression, he quickly accepted the invitation. he kind of missed seeing this side of you.

you ended up walking beside Hyungu while the lovely couple led the way to Harin's recommended restaurant.

the walk was quiet between the two of you. Hyungu felt abit guilty for being selfish, he accepted the invitation, totally ignoring your feelings.

"if you don't want me to join, i can back away now." Hyungu said. you quickly shook your head and unconciously tugged his sleeve. "i don't mind.. please join us". Hyungu grinned at your response. "alright, i will stay".

as you arrived at the restaurant, Dani excused herself to the bathroom. you decided to help Harin with the orders while Hyungu reserved a table for the four of you. the other reason you volunteered to help was so that you didn't have to be alone with Hyungu.

Dani came back from the bathroom and went to Hyungu. "oh y/n is helping Harin? then i will sit here and chat with you!".

Hyungu gave a small smile. he was still abit awkward around other girls if he was alone. "Hyungu, you like y/n don't you?" Dani attacked with an innocent smile.

Hyungu was taken aback but nodded anyways. like was an understatement. you were in his mind every second for the whole 4 years, meeting you once again made his dull world colourful again.

Dani giggled and poked Hyungu's arm. "you are so obvious. don't worry, i will help you!" Dani winked and quickly backed away when you and Harin came with your food. Hyungu pursed his lips into a thin line. he didn't know what Dani was up to.

you sat beside Dani, acrossed from Hyungu. you focused on your food and Dani, trying your best not to stare at the handsome Hyungu.

"so y/n, do you have anyone you like now?" Dani randomly asked you. your hand paused from picking up food for abit before chuckling awkwardly. "hahaha what a question, Dani. hmm i don't think i like anyone now". you swore your voice was trembling.

Dani smirked slightly at your response and was about to turn to Hyungu when Harin chirped into the conversation. "eh? how about that Jungwoo guy? don't you have a crush on him?".

you gulped as you felt your whole face became warm. "Ju-Jungwoo? he is cute, but i just admire him from afar. i don't like like him..."

Harin raised an eyebrow. "really? then why are you so emba--" his words were cut off when Dani kicked his leg under the table. she signalled him towards Hyungu and widened her eyes as if saying "have some sense Ju Harin!!". Harin pouted and continued eating his food.

there was definitely tension between you and Hyungu now. Dani tried to lighten up the mood with another topic as her plan A failed. she really wanted to help Hyungu.

after the meal, you and Harin started discussing some matters related to your future job, which was the main agenda for today's meet up. you switched seats with Dani so that you were opposite of Harin.

Dani called out Hyungu's name softly. "sorry for earlier. i just wanted to help but Harin interrupted. anyway, i'm gonna move to plan B later." Hyungu frowned and glanced at you and Harin who were engrossed in the discussion before leaning closer to the table. "what exactly are you planning??". Hyungu whispered.

Dani smirked and whispered her ideas. Hyungu listened carefully and processed her words. "so, what do you think?" Hyungu slowly nodded, agreeing to her plan.

it was finally time to separate. while Harin and Dani were going back by car, your house was just a walking distance from the mall.

"oh! Hyungu, do you have anything after this? why don't you walk y/n home?"

you almost choked on your own saliva and quickly shook your head. "i-i can go home by myself". Hyungu patted your head and gave a big smile. "i can, no, i want to walk you home!".

you sighed in defeat and nodded. "fine then. thanks Harin and Dani for today! and i'll email you the file later, Harin." Harin nodded and bid you goodbye before leaving with Dani.

you looked at Hyungu and pointed your finger awkwardly to the direction that you were going to. Hyungu walked beside you in silence. you too walked quietly, selfishly enjoying the warmth of his company.

"it feels like we are back to highschool days where i always walk you home". Hyungu started.

you just listened, not responding to his words. "we should go visit the bookshop again together one day. i remember how you would always frown slightly when you read the description of some comics, not because you hated them, but you actually loved them that your expressions couldn't be controlled. also the little pout when the volume you wanted was sold out and we have to either go to another shop or buy them online. oh and remember when--"

"that was all 4 years ago, Hyungu. can we not talk about it anymore?" you said with a slight firmness in your voice.

Hyungu paused for abit before chuckling. "for these 4 years, i've been trying to think of what you meant by me having fun with another girl that's why i was late" your fists curled into a fist as you felt your head become heavy.

"i really like you, y/n. i was serious about our relationship back then. you changed me, you were the only one that i like, i never look at other girls when i started dating you. i was hurt when you said those things to me. i really didn't understand"

you stopped in your tracks as you faced Hyungu with teary eyes. he really dared to lie to you even after 4 years?

you were about to hit his chest but he grabbed your wrist. "i finally figured it out".

~4 years ago~

Hyungu ensured that he had wrapped the big box of gifts for you properly. he carried the box carefully and walked down the staircase towards your classroom.

it was a bit difficult for him to see what was in front due to the box and Hyungu accidentally bumped into someone. he panicked for abit and quickly hugged the box to his body tightly.

"sorry, i didn't see you there!" Hyungu apologised.

the person he bumped into also apologised. "ah Hyungu? sorry! i was in a rush. oh no your hair! are you meeting anyone now?".

Hyungu's hair was a bit out of place after bumping into Ara. "is it bad? i'm meeting my girlfriend!" Hyungu asked, worried about his appearance. he wanted to look his best for you.

Ara reached out her hand to help but Hyungu leaned away. "it's okay, i can do it by myself".

Ara rolled her eyes and flicked Hyungu's forehead. "yeah but you can't see yourself, i can. here squat down abit, you have to look extra handsome for you girlfriend! after bumping into you, the least i could do is help you look presentable".

Hyungu hesitated but squatted for abit and tilted his head for Ara to help. Ara fixed Hyungu's hair and patted his hair for the last step.

"all done! now go impress your pretty girlfriend!"

Hyungu grinned cheekily at the thought of you and thanked Ara before heading towards the classroom.

and that was when the harsh break up happened.

a tear fell down your face as you finished listening to his explanation.

"it was all just a misunderstanding! and i totally understand you, i should have been more careful. i really really like you, y/n. i was sincere for all those months. you heard Ara the other day right? i didn't date anyone at all after you. thoughts about you occupied my mind 24/7. i wanted to reach out to you but.. you blocked me on all platforms. i came to your house a few times but your mother said you didn't want to meet anyone. the next time i visited, you already went to Japan. i tried asking your close friends on how to contact you but, they didn't like me so they didn't help me at all. they said i didn't deserve to talk to you anymore because i hurt you. so i waited for fate to bring us back together. and that night, when i saw your face after so long, i felt so happy".

more tears flowed down your face. Hyungu wiped them away with his thumb as he felt himself tearing up too.

"i'm..... i'm sorry. i'm sorry. i'm sorry" was all you managed to say to Hyungu as you started sobbing into his chest. Hyungu hugged you as he rubbed your back.

"can we go back to our happy moment, y/n? i missed you so much." Hyungu whispered as he sniffed.

you pulled yourself away from Hyungu and rubbed your eyes before cupping Hyungu's face with one of your hands. you carressed his face gently with your thumb and shook your head.

"that was all 4 years ago, Hyungu. we can never go back to those happy time. things aren't the same anymore"

Hyungu frowned and leaned into your palm. "then we can start over. things don't have to be the same. i just want to be with you again".

you let his face go. "my feelings for you are not the same anymore, Hyungu. how can we start over if my heart is already closed?"

"you're lying." Hyungu said as his voice trembled.

you chuckled bitterly. "i'm sorry for hurting you Hyungu. i really am. i just, want to focus on building up my career now. i was offered a job back at Japan and i don't want to lose this opportunity. i can't afford to be distracted by relationships. i can't accept your feelings like how i accepted them in highschool. i have other commitments to focus on now. i'm...sorry"

Hyungu clutched onto his chest as he felt nothing but pain in his heart.

you slowly walked away from Hyungu but was stopped by Hyungu's soft voice.

"i won't disturb you anymore but i just want to know one thing. do you hate me?".

you gulped and took a deep breath before turning around to look at his pained face.

"of course not, Hyungu. i will never hate you."

Hyungu gave a small smile despite tears falling down his face non-stop.

"thank you y/n".

you turned away as your feet quickly led you back to your house. you ran up to your room and locked your door before breaking down fully.

you buried your face in between your knees as your sobs echoed in the room.

*you don't deserve to talk to me? i'm the ONE who doesn't deserve to talk to you, Hyungu* you thought.

Hyungu was so gentle and kind to you, he loved you so much but just because of your insecurity, you ruined everything.

you didn't even let him explain things back then and said hurtful words to him. and yet he continued liking you and wanting to clear up the misunderstanding even after years of not meeting each other.

you didn't deserve such a kind person. you didn't deserve his love. you were embarrassed to even face Hyungu now after knowing the truth.

you hated yourself for again escaping from reality. you contacted Harin, asking for the job process to be quickened.

*this will make me forget about him. this will help me forget about him* you chanted and fell asleep from the exhaustion of crying and from the pain in your heart for lying to Kang Hyungu.

a/n: how was it? haha i hope yall enjoyed the roller coaster ride!

#onewe #onewe kang hyungu #onewe kanghyun #onewe hyungu #onewe imagines #kang hyungu imagines #kanghyun imagines #onewe angst #kang hyungu angst #kanghyun angst

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icefire149 · 3 years

Text

Happy Birthday Dean Winchester!!!

I wanted to write a little something and this ended up spiraling into something longer than I planned. (2,231 words) (Also please forgive me for any spelling errors. It’s after 3am) Enjoy!~

/////

For Dean, the weeks and months following Chuck’s defeat went by in a dizzying, unrecognizable blur. Despite Sam and Eileen’s best efforts to take care of Dean, he spent the majority of his time buried deep in the bunker’s archive. A lot of the time Jack is with him.

There was an ache in his chest that feared what stupid things he might have done by now if the kid wasn’t right there. Helping him. Talking to him. Actually getting to bond with him without Chuck’s interference. It was the one good thing in this fucked up situation right now.

So far their search for anything about the Empty was a disaster. There was virtually nothing. More and more often Jack would apologize. With his new position as God, yes, he could make a doorway into the Empty. That much they did know for a fact. But could he put them to sleep? Could he kill them? What would be the consequences of that?

The only other thing that they knew for certain was that the Empty could claw their way into Heaven and tear it all down. That was the only thing that was keeping Jack from snapping his fingers and restoring Cas right then and there.

It was tearing them both apart, but regardless, they continued their search.

Today, Dean opened his eyes and rolled onto his back. It was his birthday. Most years he spent it like any other normal day, but this one….after the Mrs. Butters incident…Sam and him had decided they should be throwing real celebrations. It was one thing when they were living out of motel rooms and the impala. It was completely understandable. But now they have a permanent home. So why not?

He knew now why not…..there was no point in celebrating a man that’s only half here.

Dean closed his eyes and willed himself to sleep the day away. He didn’t realize that he had fallen back asleep until he was startled awake by a pounding on his bedroom door. He shot up to a sitting position in bed, chest pounding and eyes wide with fear. It was a moment before he realized that he was in his room and not….

“Hey Dean? You up yet?”

His heart rate was still slowing, but he recognized the voice. Sam.

“I’m awake now. What’d you want?”

“Lunch is ready. I figured you’d wanna eat by now.”

“Fine. Be up soon.”

When Dean was dressed and ready as he would ever be, he opened his bedroom door. He stood there blinking in confusion for several moments. There were balloons tied to the doors of every room down the hallway.

His stomach twisted uncomfortably as he followed the balloons into the kitchen where the party decorations looked like they threw up. There was a happy birthday banner over the kitchen doorway and balloons….so many goddamn balloons everywhere.

“Surprise!” Jack popped up out of his chair and crossed the kitchen to hug him. “Sam let me decorate for your birthday. He told me I had to contain it to one room though.”

Jack took a step back with a look of concern. “Is that okay?”

“What about the hallway?”

Jack’s eyebrows furrowed. “A hallway by definition isn’t a room.”

That set Dean off in a fit of belly deep laughter. He slapped a reassuring hand onto Jack’s shoulder. “You did awesome kid.”

Jack’s mouth pulled into a beaming smile. He went back to where he was sitting, and Sam came into the kitchen.

“Good. I didn’t think you were ever getting up.”

“Yeah. Yeah. Good to see your face too, Sammy.”

Sam rolled his eyes and started pulling plates out. Dean went and sat by Jack.

“So what’s for lunch? I’m not seeing anything.”

Sam brought the plates over. “Well, you slept through the pancakes Jack helped me make this morning. Eileen should be here any minute with lunch.”

Dean shot Jack a look. “Sorry kid.”

“It’s okay. They were really good.”

“What’s Eileen bringing?” Dean turned his attention to Sam, but before he could answer Eileen came walking through the door.

“I hope everyone’s hungry.” She placed a stack of three white boxes on the table.

The familiar bakery smell hit him instantly. He pointed at the boxes. “Is that?”

Eileen grinned and crossed her arms. “Sam told me you liked pie.”

“Thank you, you majestic, wonderful being.” He turned his gaze to Sam. “You better marry her.”

That got Eileen laughing while Sam ran a hand through his hair, embarrassed.

Dean grinned and made eye contact with Eileen. “I’m so sorry, I know you can do so much better than Sam too.”

She laughed again, and then her mouth curled into a teasing smile. “I know, Dean. I know.”

“OKAY.” Sam clapped his hands together. “Can we move on from the embarrassing Sam portion of today?”

They eventually did. For a long time the three of them sat in the kitchen laughing, telling stories, and eating way too much pie. At one point Sam handed a big gift bag to Dean.

“It’s…from Jack and I.” Sam sounded unsure.

“I hope you like it,” Jack added.

Dean opened it to find several wrapped in tissue paper objects. Soon enough he found out that they were all various framed pictures. Silently, he spread them all out over the table so he could stare at them all.

There were pictures going back a decade. Easily. There were so many smiles and glares and candid shots. Fuck they were all so young looking.

Charlie in her Queen of Moondoor costume. Mom with a bowl of popcorn. Kevin and Sam asleep surrounded by piles of books. Claire on her 18th birthday with the ugly stuffed cat doll. Rowena moments before she hexed the camera. Jack looking amazed at the giant multi-scoop ice cream cone Dean bought him against Sam’s wishes. Kevin and Linda at Garth’s safe-houseboat. Dean, Sam, and Bobby at one of the cabins fishing. The hectic attempt at a family photo from Jody’s. Garth and his family. And Cas…..there were so many just of Cas or ones with him present or ones of just the two of them.

Sam coughed awkwardly. “I know you’ve been saying for a couple years now that you wanted to start printing some of the pictures we’ve been dumping onto one of the old laptops. So I thought….”

“Thank you, Sammy.” He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the pictures. Especially the candid he’d never seen before. It was of him and Cas leaning against the side of the impala, completely lost in their own bubble of conversation. Dean felt like there was a cinder block dropped into his stomach. “You did good.”

And he meant it. Still, it hurt to remember everyone he lost.

“Oh, I think you missed one,” Jack said poking at the bag.

He was right, Dean realized when he reached a hand in and pulled out a smaller wrapped frame.

Sam laughed. “I forgot about that one.”

Dean opened it and burst into uncontrollable laughter. It was a picture from his mark of cain days of him and Crowley in matching cowboy hats. As much as he didn’t want to remember those days, he still couldn’t bring himself to delete the picture. “I miss that dumb son of a bitch.”

“Hey!” Sam chimed in. “That’s insulting to Rowena.”

That had Dean laughing again. “Well, she can take a number kicking my ass. You know the moment Cas sees this he’s gonna use it and me as his personal dartboard.”

The words slipped out before he could even process it. Sam’s smile faded. Dean’s laughter turned into crying. No one said anything while Dean fought to compose himself. He was grateful for that.

When Dean’s face was dry and he dared lift his head up, Jack asked him about the people in the photos. And that’s how they spent the rest of the afternoon. It was hard to imagine his life without Jack being present somewhere so he was happy to indulge the technically toddler in what the people in the pictures were like. All the stories Dean could pull from his memory. It hurt initially, but after a while he felt lighter.

Later that day Dean was taking a break in his room when Sam peeked in the ajar door. “What’d you need, Sam?”

“I-uh…” He stepped into the room. A neatly wrapped in green box with a card on top was in his hands. “I have one last thing to give you.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Not that I don’t appreciate it, but isn’t another present going overboard? What gives?”

“It’s not from me.”

“Oh. Hand it here then.” Excited, Dean sat on the edge of his bed and held his hands out.

Sam stepped forward, but he didn’t hand the box over. “It’s from Cas.”

Dean’s hands fell down, and Sam was happy he waited. “What’s in the box?”

Sam placed it on the bed next to Dean. He shrugged. “I don’t know. He asked me quite a while ago to hang onto it.” Sam rubbed the back of his neck. “I figure he thought you’d be least likely to find it if it was in my room.”

Dean cracked a small smile at that. His chest felt like it split open just to ache again. He knew why Cas asked Sam to hold onto it. “Thanks Sammy.”

Sam left the room, closing the door behind him. It took a while before Dean could muster up the courage to open the card.

His hands shook as he pulled the folded over pieces of paper out of the envelope. Turns out instead of a generic store bought card, Cas wrote him a letter. It was a bittersweet sight. Despite how devastated he normally felt whenever he thought about Cas, he was good seeing his handwriting. In his hands was actually a new message from Cas. A message from Cas to him!

Happy Birthday Dean,

If you’re reading this then that means I failed. I wanted to burn this letter to ashes, but clearly I’m not there to do that. I’m so sorry, truly. I’m not sure what could have happened to bring us here, but I need to confess something important. I know you said no more deals when Jack died, but I still made a deal with the Empty anyways.

When I went to Heaven to bring Jack’s soul back to his body things didn’t go as planned. The Empty was furious Jack’s human half sent him to Heaven. It tore through Heaven like it was tissue paper. I did what I had to for Jack, and for Heaven. My life for his.

I don’t regret it. But the Empty did promise not to claim me until I gave myself permission to be truly happy. I’m still trying to puzzle out exactly what that could be. My family on Earth: Sam, Jack, and you - make me happy each and every day. I need you to remember that.

Please be safe and live a happy life. You are so loved by your friends and family. They need you for the next several decades. I mean it Dean. (I may have been curing you of liver and heart disease every year on your birthday. Well fixing to the best of my abilities the damage you keep causing on those poor organs.)

I hope you enjoy the present I picked out. Quite honestly, I got it because it made me laugh.

I miss you.

Castiel

Dean felt like a tangled mess of emotions. He needed to remember to breathe. Minutes later he carefully tore open the green wrapping paper. Curiosity poked at him. With Cas’ odd sense of humor, it could have been anything in the box.

Under the wrapping paper was a generic cardboard box, but inside were a handful of new cassette tapes. Dean fell over to be laying on his side. Laughing happily for quite a while, he studied each and every tape. They were all cassettes of modern music, specifically the pop artists Cas loved so much. The ones Dean used to tease Cas about while they’d be out on long drives.

He immediately knew which memory Cas was thinking of when he planned this. Dean remembered they were in the impala and Cas wasn’t in the mood for any of Dean’s old tapes. He teased that anything that came out after cassette tapes wasn’t real music. And only real music got to play in the impala.

Closing his eyes, Dean could picture the smug look Cas would be wearing right now. Tears started bubbling free from his eyelids. God he missed Cas with every ounce of his being.

A while later Dean got up and left his room, taking the tapes with him. He went for a long drive circling the neighboring towns while he worked through several of the tapes. If he relaxed enough, he could almost imagine Cas sitting in the front seat next to him, mumbling along to the lyrics of the songs he liked most.

Dean vowed that this time next year things would be different. He was owed a birthday wish and this was it: next year he’d be somewhere warm with his toes buried in the sand, and he’d have Sam, Eileen, Jack, and Cas with him.

#spn #supernatural #dean winchester #destiel #my writing #save #i hope y'all enjoy this #forgive me for any spelling errors. it's after 3am

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iwachans-beefyarms · 4 years

Note

i know this is kinda really detailed and specific idea for a scenario so i hope that this is okay! it turns out tsuki is only really good at english because he kept his english penpal from primary school and they talk everyday and ft and she surprises him by turning up before the shiratorizawa match!! just some fluffy platonic feels please maybe she goes out with the team for dinner afterwards too? 💕💕💖

Omg, I really love this scenario! I’ve had my fair share of penpals so I was really excited to write this (: I remember having an Italian penpal 2 years ago and interacting with her inspired me to learn Italian on my own because she would often give me amazing Italian book recommendations hehe (I might have gone a bit overboard when writing about Tsukki training for the match lmao)

BTW for those interested, the quote from the beginning is from Donna Tartt’s ‘The Secret History’! It’s one of my favourite books of all time and it’s what made me start learning Latin, highly recommend it to all of you! Also, I love writing about platonic friendships soooo much so if any of you would like to request similar things in the future, please do!

Note*** Reader will be speaking to the team in Japanese, which will be indicated by bolded words

Okay, I’ll stop talking now, enjoy!

“I had said goodbye to her once before, but it took everything I had to say goodbye to her then, again, for the last time, like poor Orpheus turning for a last backwards glance at the ghost of his only love and in the same heartbeat losing her forever: hinc iliac lacrimae, hence those tears.”

Tsukishima sighed and put the book down. Pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, he leaned back and closed his eyes. It was a bittersweet feeling he often experienced when nearing the end of a compelling novel. This particular one, especially, had had him completely enamored. He almost felt wistful when he realised he was almost done with it.

He opened the book back up and carefully highlighted the phrase “Orpheus turning for a last backward glance”, making a mental note to look up the reference. It sounded like a literary allusion to a Greek myth of some sort, but he had to check to be sure. He glanced at his phone and opened his e-mail to type a quick message to you.

“I am almost done with this book… Honestly, what a ride! I can’t even bring myself to finish it because of how attached I am. I learnt so many new phrases and literary allusions too! I’m seriously considering reading all the pieces of work the author had referenced throughout the novel haha. But, it’s gonna have to wait until after my volleyball season ends because we have finals coming up soon… Anyway, talk to you later! BTW, how did you enjoy the poetry collection I sent you?”

He signed off as he usually did, packed his things up and left for after-school volleyball practice. He couldn’t help but feel that today was a particularly lovely day. When Yamaguchi approached him and draped his arm around his shoulder, he welcomed his friend’s affectionate gesture with a genuine smile of his own.

“Wow, that’s a big smile! Did something good happen?” Yamaguchi questioned curiously. He glanced down at Tsukkishima’s hands and noticed the book he was holding.

“Ah! Y/n’s book huh? Is it any good?” He asked, excitedly grabbing it from his friend and flipping through the pages. His eager expression morphed into one of complete confusion as he squinted his eyes at the flurry of words before him. “How do you even read this? It’s so hard…” He blurted out.

“Tsk, you just don’t have enough practice, dumbass,” Tsukkishima retorted jokingly. It was true, though, what he said. His regular emails to and from you since his primary school days had greatly improved his English linguistic skills. Even more so, it had made him more knowledgeable in the art of writing and analysis. Everytime he got a comment on his essays about his exceptional way with words, he would silently thank your influence in his head. It was quite ironic that Tsukishima, someone who found it immensely difficult to forge meaningful relationships with those around him, would have shared such a close friendship with a girl living on the other side of the world, but such was life.

As the highly anticipated match against Shiratorizawa loomed closer, Tsukishima’s mind drifted from you and the book he had yet to finish. His heart, soul and entire being was devoted to his team. While he greatly appreciated the daily messages of encouragement you graced him with every morning, he simply did not have the time to respond properly. For now, all that mattered was volleyball.

He trained everyday, much like his teammates. Where once he would have scoffed at the level of fervor he demonstrated in his journey towards becoming the best player he could be, he now relished in the passion that flooded him everytime he held the ball between his hands, or when he jumped in tandem with his teammates to form a block. He would be prepared for Shiratorizawa, for Ushijima Wakatoshi, and for whatever force that dared to reckon with him.

That was what he told himself before the match, repeating it in his heart like a mantra, with the hopes that the belief would materialise in the court. And, that was exactly what his teammates and he did. They won. They actually won. Tsukishima never viewed himself as a sadistic person, but dear God, the look of defeat in the faces of his opponents sent him to a high he had never experienced before. It wasn’t that he was glad they lost; they were decently nice people. It was that they had won; a game that, by all expectations, should have been lost. He was euphoric. In that moment, amidst the chaos surrounding him and the cheers resounding through the stadium, he felt an immense wave of love rush over him. Love for his sport, his opponents, and most importantly, his team; his family outside of his family.

After the match, as the team made their way out of the locker rooms, he let himself bask in the triumph of their victory as his friends cheered boisterously. Suddenly, he caught the eyes of a very familiar face approaching him with a slight jog. His eyes widened. Impossible.

“Tsukki!” You wrapped your arms around his neck. He didn’t hesitate to engulf you in a hug of equal intensity. It was either the excitement of winning, or the shock from seeing you in front of him that made him so easily reciprocate your affection, but at that moment he didn’t care.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, incredulously, ignoring the gawking stares of his team. “My parents wanted to go to Japan for the holidays, and of course I had to come see you at your big match! You were amazing! I mean, Amazing, with a capital A!” you rambled off excitedly. Tsukishima almost let you continue your enthusiastic rant but he was interrupted by Daichi’s hesitant tap to his back. He cleared his throat and announced, “Everyone, this is Y/n, my good friend from Y/c.”

“Hello everyone! It is so wonderful to meet all of you! Tsukki has said so much about you that I feel like I know all of you already,” you addressed them, bowing slightly. Your nervous blush made Tsukki smile softly to himself. Immediately, you were attacked with questions.

“How does Tsukishima know such a pretty girl?”

“Where are you from? Are you here on holiday? How do you know Japanese?”

“Do you play volleyball?”

You did your absolute best to answer all their questions, and in the process, gave the team a brief summary of your friendship with Tsukishima. Yamaguchi, in particular, was wonderfully excited to make your acquaintance. Eventually, the boys and their managers invited you to have dinner with them. You graciously took their offer and left the stadium with them.

The evening was filled with laughter and jubilation. Everybody was still riding the high from their win, and spent dinner reminiscing moments during the match, and of course, talking about Tsukishima and his pretty friend. Stories about his childhood self, his emo-phase and, for a brief tw months, k-pop phase, were shared by Yamaguchi and yourself. Usually, Tsukishima would have been incredibly annoyed at being the object of a joke, but tonight, he settled for a half-hearted shove to Yamaguchi’s shoulder and a teasing comment. “At least I pulled it off… Not like your cosplay phase, remember?” Cue another round of hearty laughter.

As he watched you and his team bond, he sat back and gently rubbed his chest. His heart felt so full at the moment, and although he knew it wouldn’t last, he cherished the feeling and took a mental picture of the scene in front of him. He leaned towards your ear and whispered, “Thank you so much for coming, it meant a lot.” You squeeze his arm gently and replied, “That’s what friends are for, Tsukki!”

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #platonic #tsukki #tsukishima kei #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #scenarios #fluff

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akp-1327 · 4 years

Text

dear diary // chapter two

Hello again! Thank you all for the support on the first chapter! 💖 I am super happy that you all liked it and hope that you enjoy this one, too! 🤗

Find the series masterlist here to catch up on the previous chapter!

Word Count: 6.5k

(*) Warnings: mentions of divorce and a little swearing throughout.

(*) August 4th, 2020

Dear Diary...

Can't believe I came crawling back to this old thing. It sure has been a while, hasn't it? I haven't written in here since my parents (finally) got a divorce.

Yep, they decided that it was time to put an end to whatever sliver of a marriage they had left. Mohit (my little brother) and I were split up; he stayed with my mom in Brooklyn while I moved with my dad to Manhattan. He told me that it’d be "closer to school" and "more convenient" than driving all the way there from Brooklyn. And so, without starting yet another argument between them, I just went with it. I still see my mom, of course, but I can always sense the tension in the air whenever I pass through the threshold of my childhood home.

My life has been non-stop since graduation...and not in a good way. Sure, getting accepted into NYU was great, but then there was the post-divorce debris and rejection (Kelly…) and all of these god forsaken emotions that I had to sort through. It really, really messed me up. I almost failed my production class in that first semester because I was too busy focusing on Kelly’s rejection (about how she fell in love with her co-star and left me in the dark? About how she broke my heart? Yep, that whole spectacle.).

So, in conclusion, my life is nothing short of chaotic. Erin would say that I need to relax, but what is that when you work yourself to the bone?

...Yeah, I really don't know either. Obviously.

Alright. Into my bag you go. Let's see if I can find riveting stuff to write about this year...

Ajay

(*) I hastily unzipped my backpack and shoved the leather book I found moments ago inside, somehow managing to zip it closed. Right as I finish, though, I hear my dad’s deep voice from down the hall.

“Ajay, are you almost ready?” Dad shouted, his voice ringing through the empty room I sat in. It wasn’t necessarily my room, per se, but a guest room that I rented out for the summer. It’s the only way Dad would let me stay here - to be honest, I don’t understand why I just didn’t live with Amma for the whole two and a half months in an actual house where I could stay for free. Maybe I’ll do that next summer.

“I’ll be out in a second, Dad.”

Why was he rushing me out? Seriously, I’m driving myself. There’s no need to clamber me out the door like I’m some sort of animal. There was also the fact that it was August and how class didn’t start for another month; maybe Dad just was getting tired of me.

The floors of the downtrodden apartment squeaked beneath my feet as I walked out to the main living area, my packed bags already waiting for me on the carpeted floor. Dad stood in the kitchen, his nose in a newspaper, when he heard me approach. My hand instinctively tightened on my backpack strap as his eyes bore into mine.

“Well? Let’s get this going, Ajay. I have a meeting at seven and I’d rather not be late.” Dad huffed, walking to shoulder my light bags. All they had in them were my clothes, books, and dorm necessities.

It took him all of three seconds to walk to the patio door and slide it open (Dad lucked out and found a complex in the “suburbs” of Manhattan, so there was some grass and walking areas all around). I heaved a sigh and took one last look at the apartment, then headed out the door and into the hot and humid Manhattan air. Still, when we were only a few blocks away from the bulk of the city, you could smell the familiar scent of car exhaust waft on the wind.

Dad had already popped my car’s trunk open and set my stuff inside before I could even get over. He stood next to the driver’s door as I finally reached him.

“Thanks for letting me stay for the summer,” I said, rather cynically, “and for carrying my bags out.”

Because, you know, I can’t do that myself.

Dad gave me this weird smile; it was almost the one that he gave me when I first asked about him seeing another woman. The thought of him being with someone besides my mom still makes me angry, but there was nothing I could do about it now. Three years of divorce and he'd already found another.

Anyway, the smile he gave me was straight-lipped and had no hint of any genuine happiness. Just a fake smile that he hoped would convey some sort of message, like ‘congrats’ or some other stereotypical phrase that you’d say.

“Of course, Ajay. You’re my son,” Dad said, his tone feigning sincerity, “I’d do anything for you.”

Hmm, that’s what you told Amma. Now look where we are.

I held back an eye roll and stepped closer to my door, moving to open it, before Dad pulled me to him and gave me a bone crushing hug.

“I’m going to miss you, Ajay. Stay safe, okay?”

Huh; that response actually had some emotion. I could sense the probity in that one. If he were one of my actors I’d tell him to bring it out a bit more and really demonstrate the feeling in his body language. But, no, this is Dad and I can’t direct him around.

“I’ll miss you too, Dad. Remember to lock your door, seeing as I can’t do it for you anymore.” I said, pulling away to both catch my breath and to open my car door. With a quick glance at Dad, though, that wasn’t happening yet.

“When you get the chance, you should go visit your mom and Mohit. I can tell that you miss them, too.”

Something must’ve been in his coffee this morning. He never talks about Amma so domestically, but when he does (which is seldom at most) he keeps his tone even, almost somber. Mohit is a different story, but he still gets a little tense over the fact that he was his youngest son's second choice.. I believe that he lost a piece of himself when he divorced Amma; a vital piece that would make him act like the father I remember. Maybe that’s why he was so discombobulated.

“I’ll probably visit them this weekend. We’ll see, though,” I said, now getting into my car. Dad handed me the keys and clapped his hand on my shoulder.

My door, however, wasn’t closing due to Dad’s leg being in the way.

“Well, whatever you decide to do, just be smart about it.” Dad said, now laughing a little bit. (Jeez, I’m making a mental note to examine his coffee grounds when I come visit if this odd behavior keeps up.)

“Okay, Dad. Remember how you have a meeting at two?” I said, trying to ‘get this going’. If he was so hesitant on letting me go, why was he shoving my ass out the door?

“Oh! Crap. You’re right. Get going, kid,” Dad stammered, “I love you.”

Wow, color me surprised! Definitely going to sift through that coffee next time I’m here.

“Love you too, Dad. Bye.” I said, closing my door with a small wave. Dad waved in return and retreated back into his apartment, closing the door without looking back. Not surprising, of course, but definitely a little disappointing.

My car, a grey 2010 Ford Taurus, revved to life without hesitation when I turned the key in the ignition. Shifting into drive and pulling away from "home" for the final time that summer should’ve felt bittersweet like all the summers before...but I couldn’t find it in myself to miss this life anymore. The freedom of summer, no matter how much I had with my jobs, would never compare to the school life I cherished; mainly to escape my messy reality.

The forty minute drive to NYU whizzed by all thanks to my favorite musical soundtrack, Les Misérables, and a couple packages of rainbow goldfish that I bought specifically for the occasion. I avoided most of the traffic by taking the long way (the closest thing to “back roads” in the city), which tacked on a good twenty more minutes, but I could care less. All I had to do was track down Rory and Erin and knowing them...that wouldn’t be hard.

Sure enough, right as I’m an intersection away from the familiar campus grounds, my phone vibrates with a call on my passenger seat. With a quick glance, it was from Rory. I would get it, but then the damn light turned green after about two minutes; perfect timing.

After I pulled into the office parking lot to get my keys and dorm, I saw Rory’s familiar face light up and run towards my car from a nearby bench. He’s absolutely insatiable.

Rory beamed as he ran toward my car, Erin on his tail with a neutral, almost unhappy expression.

“Director man! You finally decided to show up!” Rory shouted as I opened my door. I rolled my eyes but couldn’t hide the grateful grin that grew across my features.

“I would’ve waited another month if I knew that you’d greet me like this,” I laughed, accepting Rory’s uncharacteristic fist bump with an arched eyebrow, “what was that for?”

Rory looked like he was about to combust from excitement. He kept bouncing on the balls of his feet and wringing his hands around.

Erin, on the other hand, rolled her eyes at his excitement. Ever the oddly unenthused one of us three, and that’s coming from me.

“Erin got a new roommate!” Rory shouted, his hands shooting into the air. I laughed as Erin sighed, though I was still quite confused. Erin wanted a singles dorm, though, because we’re still on campus, I guess she didn’t have control over that.

“I haven’t met them yet, but I think it’s a freshman,” Erin said, crossing her arms, “and we got our keys already. Go check in quick and we’ll go find our dorms.”

Erin was always bossy, but there was something different about her sternness in that moment that just made an unsettling weight settle in my gut. So, without pushing the situation further, I nodded.

“Sounds good,” I said, tossing my keys to Erin, “put your stuff in the trunk while you wait on me.”

The campus registration office was way too familiar for my liking. The past two years were alright, but this time around it just felt awkward. I could tell that I was surrounded by freshmen because of the bright lights in their eyes and their wondrous expressions as they looked around.

I pushed my glasses up my nose and let my eyes wander around as I waited for my turn. Ahead of me stood a girl with flaming red hair. Just by her stance I could tell she was someone that you shouldn’t cross; intimidating, but also carefree. She had a backpack on her shoulders and a black duffel bag sitting at her feet. From here, I could read the name on the tag: Leila Maciel, in dainty handwriting. I also looked at another thing that she was holding - a computer bag - and saw the name ‘Skye’ written in a font that you’d see printed in green on the cover of a Goosebumps book.

Maybe it was just an aesthetic to have different names in different styles on your things? Or one of the bags belonged to a relative? Maybe she had a fake ID and is currently failing to conceal her real identity?

I was snapped out of my thoughts as the girl picked up her bag and walked forward. I had to know more. My curiosity has been piqued.

“Welcome to New York University! Name, please?” Danielle, the student that I disliked behind the counter asked, her familiar soprano sending chills down my spine. I’ve always found Danielle to be a little creepy ever since I witnessed her ogle Rory all the time last year at rehearsal. She was completely smitten with him. Of course, Rory felt the exact opposite.

“Um, Skye Crandall.” The girl said, almost disdainfully. I didn’t even need to see her face to know that she cringed at the sound of her own name.

“Awesome, awesome...” Danielle trained off, scrolling through her computer, “Aha! Skye Crandall, you’re in dorm 332 in Lafayette Hall. Your roommate’s name is Erin Ward! She is a super cool junior.”

Danielle was even more of a blabbermouth than I remember her being.

“Here are your keys! Enjoy!”

“Uh, thanks.” Skye said, taking the keys from Danielle. I debated whether or not to tell the redhead about Erin, but decided to let the meeting happen on its own. This Skye girl also looked exhausted but also ready to kick someone’s ass at any moment...so...let’s just let that one slide.

“Ne--” Danielle started, though stopped and brightened when she saw me, “Oh my gosh, it’s Ajay! Hey, stranger!”

“Hi, Danielle.” I sighed, trying to not let my discomfort show.

I was probably failing.

She was already typing in my information before I could ask.

“How was your summer? Don’t you live in Manhattan?” Danielle asked, still typing away with her eyes focused on the screen.

“My dad does, yeah,” I said, maintaining her divided attention much to my displeasure, “and I had an alright summer. You?”

“Oh, it was great! I did so many things. Golfing, surfing, snorkeling, swimming with dolphins...all the things I usually do back home in Florida.”

That explains...some. She has always seemed to have a Florida-esque persona in that way. Not to give in to a stereotype, but Floridians tend to be on the “crazy” side of the behavioral spectrum. Danielle fits into that like a glove.

I was about to continue the conversation before she beat me to it. “Ajay Bhandari, you are in dorm 413 in Lafayette Hall and are rooming with Rory Silva. I’m guessing you know the rest?” Danielle said, passing me my keys. Internally, I rolled my eyes. Externally, though, I forced a nod.

“Yes, Danielle. Thank you.” I said, holding my breath as I walked away. She shouted something back at me, but I was too focused on getting the hell out of there to care.

Back at my car, I saw Rory leaning up against the passenger door and Erin sitting on the hood.

“Jeez, Erin, the hood of my poor car isn’t a bench!” I joked, trying to lighten the mood. Though, instead, she just looked burned out.

“I’m not sorry, director man,” Erin smirked, her smile not showing the happiness that it usually had. She stood up anyway to hand me my lanyard with my keys.

As Erin clambered into the backseat, I turned to Rory.

“You packed your entire house, right? Because I didn’t bring much this year for our dorm.” I said, attaching my new keys to my lanyard. Rory groaned and nodded.

“You’re lucky I basically bought Target out of their stuff. I even bought you those nice bed sheets you wanted so that you’d actually shut up about them. Oh, and a comforter to match at my mom’s insistence.” Rory said, sighing. I smirked and gestured for him to get in.

“I’ll pay you back for them later. For now, we gotta get to Lafayette Hall.”

The whole ride, because it was quiet, I tuned out. And then, without warning Guns and Ships from Hamilton played over and over in my head.

...This is going to be a long year.

The sun was almost hidden under the horizon once we arrived at Lafayette Hall. It wasn’t packed at all. It was actually pretty nice.

“Okay, guys, let’s go. We’ve already burned daylight, so we’re burning nightlight!” Rory laughed. Erin groaned from the backseat.

“Not how that works, Rory, but alright. I’m letting it slide for now.” Erin said, getting out. She sounded a bit happier, but still not like her usual self.

We all gathered our things and started to head inside. Rory was lugging countless bags with him, per usual, and Erin had three.

The lobby was like any other dorm building; familiar purple and white furnishings, same set-up. The front desk’s clerk looked like they were about to fall asleep.

Yep, this is definitely the NYU I remember.

“Okay, this is where we part. Come find me in room 332 when you guys finish up getting your room ready.” Erin said, heading in the direction of the stairs.

“Too cool to take the elevator?” Rory asked, earning a glare from Erin.

“I need to keep my legs toned for volleyball, genius,” Erin snarked in her (somewhat) usual tone, “now go take the elevator like a wimp.”

She turned and disappeared onto the staircase, leading Rory and I to look at each other.

“What happened with her over summer?” I asked nonchalantly, pressing the elevator button with my free hand. Rory heaved another sigh next to me.

“She didn’t tell me much, but,” Rory said, his voice dropping to a whisper, “I heard that something bad happened to her grandpa. I don’t know what, exactly, but you know how she gets with that kind of stuff.”

I should’ve known; this was the same Erin that I met two years ago when we were both freshmen at NYU; her grandma had just passed away that summer and she was a wreck. It was what allowed us to bond, both being damaged in our first year at NYU, and what led to us being so close. We had that pitiful connection and would always talk to each other about our painful experiences.

“Oh, um,” I said, unable to think of the right words to say in the moment, “that’s concerning.”

“Very. I left it alone, obviously, but I think you should talk to her about it. You guys have that kind of friendship, you know?” Rory said, nudging me with his elbow as the elevator doors opened (thank goodness it was empty).

“You have that kind of friendship with her, too. I’m not the only one here with good advice.” I said, remembering the moment last year when Rory had single-handedly pulled me out of a bad mood. It was right after I heard about my mom’s boyfriend, Jim, proposing to her and how she said yes; let’s just say that I wasn’t taking the news well.

Rory was silent for a second, and I could tell he was processing my words.

“I mean, I guess you’re right, but I really don’t...” Rory trailed off when we arrived on the fourth floor, pausing to walk off, “I don’t have the right kind of advice that Erin needs.”

Like I said, Rory is insatiable.

“Dear lord, Rory,” I laughed, hopefully walking in the direction of our dorm, “you seriously need to learn how to take a compliment and run. Especially from me.”

“Oh, shut up, director man,” Rory huffed, “I’m just saying that my advice isn’t as good as yours.”

Oh. My. God. And people always wonder why I never compliment my actors. Well, here’s example A.

“That’s controversial, but I’m too busy trying to find our dorm to argue with you,” I said, squinting at the dorm numbers; all of which weren’t ours.

“These are all going up. Let’s turn around.” Rory said, looking back at the empty hallway behind us. Jesus, why is this building so confusing?

“Good idea. Reroute.”

Over the next two minutes, we found dorm 413. It was right next to the elevator...but the opposite way. I fished my lanyard out of my pocket and unlocked the door.

The dorm was quaint, like any other, but with two tall and slender windows as opposed to one. It was also pretty big in comparison to what Rory and I had last year.

“So, are we doing the same set-up as last year?” Rory asked. I nodded and sighed, setting my lightly packed bags on the left bed.

“The right side is always seemingly larger and we both know who needs the extra space.” I joked, earning a tired laugh from Rory.

“How about we take Erin and we go shopping this week? Then you won’t complain so much.” Rory said, making me roll my eyes.

“If you insist.”

Unpacking didn’t take long. I just needed to organize my still-empty closet and set up all my personal items; a few pictures, a few of Mohit’s drawings, and a plain calendar that Jim got me. I really, really didn’t want to use it because of his relationship with Amma but I didn’t want to buy another one, either. I also ended up making the rock-hard mattress with the sheets and comforter set that Rory got me as I waited for him to finish setting up.

As Rory hung his dress shirts, I took a look at my phone. It was already ten past nine and Erin texted me about twenty minutes ago.

Erin: are you and rory alive? jeez, hurry up.

Ajay: Yep. We’ll be on our way in a second.

“Okay, that's enough unpacking for now,” Rory said, moving to store his suitcases. I loudly sighed and got up.

“Are you ready to go now? Erin’s waiting.” I asked loudly.

“Yes! Can you hear me?” Rory yelled, dissolving into laughter a second later. I rolled my eyes and started to walk towards the door.

Jesus, I feel bad for the RA this year.

“Knock knock, Erin! Your two favorites are here!” Rory said, knocking on Erin’s door. Only a second later, the door opened to reveal her dorm. Surprise, surprise, it was almost the exact same as ours.

“Took you guys long enough. Come on in.” Erin said. She already had everything unpacked on her side. Posters, pictures, and there were even fairy lights on her headboard.

“Nice place,” Rory starts, looking around, “almost looks like mine.”

A small snort came from the other side of the room and I looked over to see the familiar redhead from the registration office sitting on her bed. The only oddity...it was bare; no sheets, no blankets. Just a mattress.

“You guys must be Rory and Ajay?” Skye asked, her eyes leaving her laptop and flitting over to Erin for confirmation.

“In all their glory. Guys, this is Skye.”

Rory was the first to wave and stick his hand out for her to shake. “I’m Rory! Nice meeting you, Skye.”

Skye hesitated a bit before shaking Rory’s hand, and even then, she rolled her eyes.

“Same here, I guess,” Skye said, looking at me, “then you’re Ajay?”

“Yeah. I’m not going to shake your hand, though.” I said, trying to ease the gloom that weighed the room down. Instead, it just made things a bit awkward. Skye gave me a tight-lipped smile and nodded, brushing loose auburn hair that fell out of her ponytail away from her eyes.

“So, Skye, what’s up with your...decoration?” Rory asked. Her entire side of the room was bare.

“Well, I got the wrong bag from the airport, for starters,” Skye exasperated, closing her eyes, “and then I realized I forgot my computer charger and my phone charger at home just before you guys came.”

Yeesh, that’s rough.

“Speaking of, Skye, did you take the bag--” Erin started, though there was another knock at the door. Erin furrowed her brows and looked at me before she moved to answer it. On the other side stood two girls; one with blonde hair and about six inches shorter than me, the other with black hair and about the same height as me. They both looked nervous.

“Um, hello! Sorry to disturb you guys. Is this Skye Crandall’s dorm?” The one with blonde hair asked. She looked calmer and more composed than the other and she held an identical bag to the one at the end of Skye’s bed in her hands.

“Yeah, come on in.” Erin said, her familiar, welcoming smile appearing for the first time since I arrived.

Skye perked up from her bed, her eyes lighting up. The two girls clambered into the room awkwardly, making a beeline for the redhead.

“Skye, right?” The girl with black hair asked softly, taking the bag from her friend with a blush. Skye nodded and gave her the smallest smile.

“That’s me. Are you Leila, then?” Skye asked, getting up to retrieve the other bag. The girl with black hair sighed with relief.

“Yep. Leila is definitely my name.” Leila said. Her friend elbowed her in the side with a small giggle. Skye nodded and held out Leila’s bag.

Wow...this is really painful to watch.

“Sorry for the mix-up, um...” Skye blushed, blinking rapidly, “I was not paying attention. To anything at the time.”

Leila was about to speak before the other girl cut in. “That’s okay! I’m glad we found you. I’m Charlotte, by the way.”

“Charlotte,” Leila said between gritted teeth, taking her bag and putting Skye’s on her bed. In an even lower voice, she added, “Thank you, now butt out.”

Rory nudged my arm to get my attention. When I looked at him, his eyes were wide and looking between Charlotte’s back and my eyes.

“What?” I whispered, though Rory shook his head. Confusion blanketed my mind...all up until I saw that she was wearing a purple drama program shirt.

Drama. Program. She had to be in the drama program. She just might be a part of the show! Of course, because that’s just my luck. A girl that I could actually have a chance of getting to know in a non-theatrical way--

“Ajay?” Erin asked, waving a hand in front of my face. I stammered, feeling my cheeks involuntarily heat up. I could tell it was visible because Rory’s smirk grew by at least ten sizes.

“What?” I shouted, frustrated with my own thoughts.

“Want to go explore the building with us?” Erin asked, holding in a giggle. Glad to see she’s doing better.

“Oh, uh, sure? Why?” I said, looking between everyone’s humored looks.

“You would know if you weren’t so distracted, Ajay.” Rory teased, elbowing me again. I almost let out my retort but was interrupted by someone - probably the girls that were now snickering - clearing their throat on the other side of the room.

“To get to know the area, obviously. Why else would we?” Erin said, making me heave a somewhat dramatic sigh. Maybe she just needed to pick on me to raise her spirits.

“Is that okay with you two?” Rory asked, looking between Leila and Charlotte. They both gave a quick nod, though Leila frowned at the bag in her arms.

“Can we make a pit stop first?” Leila asked, eyeing Erin who gave her quite possibly the warmest smile I’ve seen her give over the past three years.

“Yeah, of course! Let’s get going, though. We need to be fully functional tomorrow to go shopping for the first big party of the year!” Erin squealed, making her way towards the door.

“I...you want me to go to a college party? With...but I’ve--” Charlotte gasped, her eyes going wide with panic. This immediately made Leila roll her eyes and nudge her friend hard in the shoulder with her own. A genuine laugh escaped Leila as she turned to everyone.

“Charlotte here isn’t much of a party animal, but she’ll definitely loosen up with time.” Leila teased, causing Charlotte’s cheeks to darken with embarrassment.

Nice to know that I’m not the only one in this friend group who isn’t too fond of parties. And it’s also nice to know that I may get along with her better than I thought.

“Well, sweetie, you’re going with us. We’re friends now, and no friend of mine will sit idle on the sidelines.” Erin grinned, opening her door.

After everyone exited the room, Leila and Charlotte walked a little ways down the hall before stopping in front of a door.

“We’ll be right out!” Leila said before dragging Charlotte into the room behind her. Not even ten seconds later, they appeared again.

“Okay, c’mon. We gotta explore this maze!” Rory encouraged, coaxing everyone to follow him. I caught his eye and he gave me a teasing wink. What the hell? With a glance around, I saw Charlotte walking next to me, her head immediately swiveling forward. Another blush covered her cheeks.

It turns out that Lafayette Hall isn’t exactly confusing, but it’s definitely something to get used to. It was just a big square with a lot of twists and turns.

Another thing to get used to was the fact that it had a nice game room, and with Rory and Leila’s insistence (I’m starting to think that they’re a deadly duo), we got the key.

“Oh my God, Ajay! They have a pool table! I call a rematch from that stupid party last year.” Rory gasped, taking a cue stick from the wall. I groaned and shook my head.

“I’d rather not hear you complain about your loss all night. Face off against Erin instead.” I laughed, earning a nudge from Erin.

“Thanks. Now I’ll be the one complaining all night - sorry, Skye.”

Skye gave a halfhearted smile, her mind seemingly elsewhere. Anywhere but this game room.

“Skye, can I challenge you to a game of ping pong?” Leila asked hesitantly, taking two paddles in her hands and holding one out to Skye. With both a sheepish glance and a gingerly-moving hand, Skye took it and spun it around a few times.

“Don’t go easy on me. We may have just met, but I’m not made of glass.” Skye smirked, taking her place at the table and serving the ball to Leila. Over at the pool table, I watched Rory narrow his eyes at Erin; it looked like she currently had the upper hand.

“So, Ajay, right?” Charlotte said from beside me, startling me a bit. I turned to see her leaning up against the wall, looking at me.

“That’s me,” I answered awkwardly, relaxing onto the wall to match her stance. Her eyes, which I realized were a cerulean blue, left my figure to watch the ping pong match that slowly intensified.

“Where’re you from, Ajay?”

“I was born in Maryland, but my parents moved to New York shortly after that.” I said. “You?”

“Cedar Cove. It’s a tiny town in Oregon a few miles east of Portland. I bet you’ve never heard of it?” Charlotte said. I nodded, still keeping my eyes moving between the two games despite my lackluster concentration on them.

“Nope,” I chuckled, “but that’s alright. What’s so unique about Cedar Cove?”

Charlotte fell silent for a second, though quickly replaced it with a humored sigh.

“That’s like asking a little kid why they want to go into a candy store, dude. I don’t have a single answer! Give me a different question.” Charlotte giggled, shaking her head.

“Fair enough,” I smiled, “what brings you to The Big Apple, then?”

She let out another small giggle, and in that moment, I noted that she had a very laid back personality and a contagious laugh.

“Besides college?”

“Well, yeah. Obviously.”

Deafening silence fell between us again until she piped up once more.

“I’m planning to take over the world, of course,” Charlotte whispered, “but, shh, you don’t know that. So don’t blow my cover, okay?”

Okay, she is officially someone I’d like to get to know better.

“I’ll try my best.” I responded, looking over at her. I didn’t realize this before, but she had light freckles scattered around her face, too. “What are you majoring in?”

“Drama, and then minoring in production. I’m trying to make it as a Broadway star or an actress.” Charlotte said, her voice louder than a whisper but still quite hushed. Something immediately clicked in my mind.

“Wait, you’re from the Cedar Cove that won the Spotlite competition in London like two years ago? Berry High, I think it was?” I gaped, making her gasp. She turned to face me with a bright and surprised smile.

“No way, you saw our show?” Charlotte beamed, her expression softening with (what I could only assume to be) nostalgia.

“Not in person but I did see clips. It was one of the best shows I’ve ever seen! Every aspect of it was spectacular and I was blown away by the improv skills of the leads during that blackout.” I rambled, my director’s side slowly finding its way out. Another thing clicked in my mind when she smirked. “Wait, you were a lead, weren’t you?”

Charlotte eagerly nodded. She looked so happy to be talking about this, for some odd reason.

“I was! And, for the record, that improv was terrifying!” Charlotte babbled. “But enough about me. What’re you doing here, Ajay?”

Should I blow my cover already? Tell her that, ‘yeah, I might be your director and will probably be someone that you'll learn to resent.’? I barely got to know her before she heard the truth.

“I’m majoring in drama, too. Minoring in both cinema studies and theater. All for the purpose of becoming a director.” I said, keeping my tone composed.

“Are you going to strictly direct theatrically or are you going to branch out to the silver screen?” Charlotte asked, examining my eyes. It was both flattering and a little embarrassing at the same time; she’d look at one eye for only a second before moving onto the other, and back again. It was like a workout for my eyes.

Oh no, I’m rambling.

Before I could give her my response, Erin yelled a cacophony of slurs, swears, and phrases mashed into one.

“Ajay, please knock some sense into this guy!” Erin huffed, shaking her head. “I can’t believe I lost to...to Rory!”

I gave Charlotte a sorrowful expression before looking back at Erin. “Another time, Erin. Can’t you--”

Leila yelled out, too. “Jesus, how’re you so good at ping pong?”

Skye simply gave her a smile. “Many, many hours practicing.”

I sighed, turning back to Charlotte. She was grinning, her arms folded across her chest; still looking like she was waiting for my answer.

“To answer your question, I think I’ll stick to the stage. I’m taking cinema classes this year if that thought changes, though.” I rambled. A hum escaped her as she nodded.

“Then you’re going to be a part of the show, right?” Charlotte asked, tucking a few stray hairs behind her ear. Her eyes, a deep cerulean blue, swirled with uncertainty. An anxiety, almost.

“Yeah,” I said softly, noticing her change in demeanor; her once carefree posture had coiled into a tense inverse of itself. “Are you planning on auditioning?”

Charlotte bit her lip and looked down at her shoes.

“Do you think I should?”

I hesitated for a second, running a hand through my unkempt hair, and lowered my voice down to a whisper. “Well, not to sound creepy or anything, but I’ve seen you act. And from what I saw on that stage two years ago, you’d be a great addition to any cast.”

A massive blush exploded across Charlotte’s face, turning her cheeks a bright red. “That’s...high praise coming from a director. Thank you.”

I gave her arm a small nudge with my elbow in response, causing her to break into a fit of laughter. All the sudden, though, the door to the game room slammed open, revealing a group of ambitious freshmen.

“Oh, we’re done in here, guys!” Erin said hurriedly, hastily gesturing our group out the door. For a split second, I saw surprise pass through her features; the kind that made it seem like she was remembering something. Dear God, what is wrong with this day?

“The room is all yours!” Rory blurted before closing the door behind him. In the hallway, everyone looked confused.

“I still want to know all your secrets to being a ping pong goddess.” Leila laughed, making Skye crack a laugh for the first time since Rory’s grand entrance about an hour ago.

“My secrets are extremely guarded, so good luck.” Skye challenged, narrowing her eyes the slightest bit at a clueless Leila.

“Oh, wow, what time is it?” Charlotte gasped, whipping out her phone. Her expression turned into panic. “Oh my God, I have six missed calls from my parents and a few from my brother! I need to go!”

“Wait, wait! Let’s exchange numbers!” Rory said, not letting Charlotte leave. Hurriedly, she shoved her phone into everyone’s hands. Once she reached me, I fumbled over the numbers. Dear God, Ajay, get yourself together.

“Quickly, please!”

Leila laughed for a minute before she pulled her own phone from her pocket, her happiness crumbling into annoyance.

“Jeez, ten missed calls from mine!” Leila huffed. Erin was about to speak before Charlotte chided in with a farewell.

“It was super awesome meeting you guys,” Charlotte said hurriedly, taking Leila’s arm, “I will text you all later! See you!”

Without another word, the two took off down the hallway and to the elevator.

“Well, um, we met three new people today!” Rory cheered, elbowing Skye’s arm. She didn’t look too pleased.

“Awesome, but I’m ready to go relax. Skye, need help setting a few things up?” Erin said, turning to her roommate that gave her a shrug.

“You don’t really need to help me, but, sure.” Skye sighed, looking down at her feet. Again, why were everyone’s feelings so sensitive today?

“Alright, then. This is where we split up.” I added, walking towards the elevators. Rory started to follow when Erin led Skye towards the stairs.

“Good night, guys.” Erin called, waving, and then turning a corner.

After tossing and turning for a good two hours, I pulled out my phone and decided to text Erin. She’d be up at the late hour (she rarely sleeps) and I wanted to check in with this odd behavior.

Ajay: Hey. Is everything okay? You’ve been acting weird ever since I arrived.

A response came not even a minute later. Figures.

Erin: i don’t want to talk about it, ajay. thanks tho.

Ajay: I wasn’t asking to talk. I was asking if you were okay.

I knew something was wrong, but Erin was usually the type to ramble on and on about anything she faced. It was strange to see her bottling up all of her emotions.

Erin: i am. don’t worry about me.

Erin: i just had a really rough summer.

Wow. How do you even respond to that?

Ajay: If you need to talk or anything, you know where to find me. Okay?

That’ll have to do for now. No pressure, just assurance. Hopefully that’s enough.

Erin: yep. night.

Because either of us will actually end up sleeping tonight...

Ajay: Night, Erin.

#high school story class act #hssca #ajay bhandari #skye crandall #rory silva #erin ward #mc: charlotte parker #oc: leila maciel #choices stories you play #warnings: mentions of divorce and some swearing #chapter two! 🥳

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myshuagger · 4 years

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surely, someday...

words: ~1400 (ish) genre: fluff/angst, friends to lovers warnings: implicit alcohol use, implicit drunk sex, unedited as always a/n: i don’t even know...? but I missed writing. this is the only thing i’ve actually finished since the last time i posted. i mean, i’ve advanced some of my wips... kinda... yeah... anyway, hope whoever reads this likes it.

A soft sigh escapes from your lips as you sit by the window and watch the snow fall quietly. Behind, the empty hotel room is cold, unforgiving. The clock showing 2:03 am has no tact. Its soft ticking mocking you with every passing second.

I’ll meet you there… wait for me.

You wonder how many times you’ve felt your heart break like this. How many times have you heard those words only to be disappointed.

You lost track. Avoiding to count was difficult at first but it’s your only source of relief. If you counted, the situation would be unbearable.

Not that it’s bearable right now. You think as your chin rests on your hand. The buzz of your phone almost goes unnoticed. You prefer to ignore it anyway. The contents of the message already floating in your mind. Excuses. Seems like it’s all you get nowadays.

The snowy landscape fills you with memories. Nostalgia claws at your throat. You wash it down with a sip of cheap wine.

___

Jun’s hand feels warm on your own. He runs and laughs in front of you as you try your best to pull him back. The floor is slippery and dangerous. He laughs once again when you voice your thoughts. Runs even faster.

You two collapse on the snow after a few minutes. Jun covers his face as he gasps for breath. You would have never imagined to be hanging around with someone like Wen Junhui. Being neighbors meant that you got to listen to every complaint, every temper tantrum, every prank.

The 11 year old on the snow next to you is annoying at best. Rowdy and careless. Somehow you also find him eye catching, endearing.

Your mom had showed disapproval when you first asked her to go out to play with him. She conceded anyway, persuaded by his mother. Perhaps, being friends will make him be more mature, it’s what his mother had said. It didn’t. You kept playing with him anyway.

___

The soft bass of your favorite song thumps inside your ribcage as you sit in the living room of an unknown house. Your mind feels like a cloud. The couch dips next to you and an arm wraps around your bare shoulders. Your eyes open to a smiley Jun.

“Are you okay?” He screams against your ear and you have to pull away a bit. He’s 17 now but still as loud as when you first met him. His carefree laugh can be heard over the music. Or so you think. Maybe you’re just so used to hear him laugh.

Before you can answer his question someone else speaks. Voice almost as loud as Jun’s. You try to pay attention to Soonyoung’s drunk babble. You almost manage to make out whatever he’s trying to say, until your concentration is interrupted by Jun’s thumb drawing small circles on your shoulder.

A shiver runs through your spine as Jun whispers the words let’s go into your ear. Your mind is no longer a cloud, not when his hand grounds you as he takes you upstairs.

He kisses you with your back pressed against the wall. Mouth needy and hands on your hips. It’s not your first kiss but it somehow feels different, new. Your own hands grasp at his hair when Jun’s mouth travels down your neck.

His hands awake a series of pants and repressed moans. They make him impatient. You bite him playfully when his lips travel back to your own. A mischievous smirk playing on his handsome features as he guides you to the bed.

He’s still too rowdy and careless, but you don’t mind.

___

The days after your high school graduation are bittersweet to say the least. Especially as you had learned a few weeks back that you and Jun were attending separate universities. Even more so because his was a good 4 hours away from your place.

Admittedly, you cried when you learned about it. Both in front of him and by yourself. You two have been together for so long that thinking about one of you leaving made you feel empty.

“Let’s always be together,” is what Jun tells you on the last day as you both lay down on the bed, your bed, holding hands. He finished packing a few hours ago. You have been talking about everything and nothing since then. The topic of your relationship avoided until that moment.

You wonder if it’s possible. The fear of your relationship eroding with distance and time the only thing on your mind. Unsure eyes meet with bright ones. Jun kisses you softly and holds you close. None of you say anything else.

He leaves that same evening. You fall asleep by yourself to memories of snow and the warmth of his hand.

___

You pick up your phone hurriedly the second time it rings. Jun’s annoyance meets you on the other side. Apologies for missing his first call start to flow through your lips like water. He sighs and tells you it’s okay.

The conversation is the same as always. Playing catching up feels boring after the first 100 times. You endure it just because it’s him.

After 30 minutes you notice he sounds tired. He tells you it’s midterms week and you feel guilty for taking his study time away from him. You tell him as much and he laughs, denies it right away. Somehow, it sounds different than before.

You start to wonder if this is okay. If things are working.

“I’m visiting again next weekend.”

Your heart jumps and you almost fall from your chair. Afterall, the last time he was able to visit was almost two months ago. You voice fake suspicion and he laughs. Gets loud when he tries to convince you he’s telling the truth. For a moment he sounds like the Junhui you know.

“...so, will you wait for me?”

Jun tells you he loves you before he hangs up. Those simple words are enough to dissipate any of your doubts.

___

The first thing Jun does after getting out of the car is to kiss you. His mother makes a comment about how he didn’t even say hi. Jun looks at her with a playful eyes before he runs to hug her.

You walk behind them when they head to the house. Listening to their conversation with a faint smile on your lips.

That night, you and Jun talk about everything and nothing. Focus on each other’s presence and share spontaneous kisses. You’re at peace. Limbs tangled and bodies too close, product of his small bed.

When your eyes feel too heavy and sleep demands your full attention, you whisper for Jun to take you with him. You don’t hear his answer but feel the soft press of his lips against your forehead.

___

Sometimes you visit Jun without previous notice. Book a hotel room near his apartment and call him over when he least expects it. It’s fun and makes for a good surprise.

Or it did.

Lately, your surprise trips have been met with nothing but disappointment and a million apologies. It seems that if it’s not an exam then it’s a project, or a promise to his friends.

When he does come, he usually leaves early in the morning. So early It leaves you to wonder if he was actually there or if your mind is just playing tricks with you.You try not to cry when it happens.

However, cancelled plans and excuses seem to not be enough to deter you from trying. You still plan your impromptu trips to see him. Still book a room at the same hotel. You don’t know if you do it in hopes he actually comes. In hopes of seeing the Junhui you love.

___

You rub your eyes, the clock that reads 7:26 am. The bottle of wine is now as empty as the room. As the first rays of sunrise hit your face, you feel nothing.

Perhaps Jun doesn’t remember that afternoon. Maybe he doesn’t remember when he, albeit carelessly like everything he does, whispered those words. That day feels so distant in your mind you’re not even sure you remember correctly. Nonetheless, his voice repeats itself over, and over, and over.

Let’s always be together.

Although you didn’t reply to him back then, you still feel the same. As you close the curtains to block the sunlight you whisper your answer to yourself.

“I’ll wait forever.”

And you do.

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen fanfic #seventeen imagines #jun scenarios #junhui scenarios #wen junhui #m: wjh #not requested #junhui

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myownprivate-johnnyutah · 4 years

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If Found (Chapter 1)

AN: A Fluff-as-Fuck Penpals Story because we’re in a fuckin’ pandemic and I want to write about yearning, goddamnit. I have no outline, no plan and am just going wild with it.

Synopsis: After losing a notebook in a Brooklyn bar two years ago, Alana Miles has lost a few more things and gained some others. Lost? Her tiny Brooklyn apartment, her first love-turned fiancé, their shared cat. Gained? A small rental house in her hometown, a second book deal, a rescue bulldog and a facelss email pen pal she may or may not be falling for. (AO3)

Wordcount: 1,530

September 2020

It’s a little early to be up for a Saturday, but she cracks open her laptop anyway— careful not to jostle the sleeping bulldog deep snoring across her legs. Alana has tried to let herself sleep in on weekends, lately. With the weekdays full of deadlines, interviews and long calls with her editor normally kicking off before her morning coffee’s kicked in, the few blissful hours of no screens and light-blocking blinds on Saturdays were usually her favorite thing. Usually.

It’s not her fault, though. Because of stupid timezones, there was a message waiting for her that she’d be itching to see and even after years (plural) of back-and-forth emails with her accidental pen pal, the little rush of seeing where the conversation would go next was enough to make her a bit more of a morning person (even when she doesn’t have to be).

To: [email protected].

From: [email protected]

Subject: RE: RE: RE: The Not-Divorce is Finalized!

Sure, okay, I believe you.

I know you said you were fine and I understand I’m maybe half-obligated by the terms of our friendship to take that at face value and instead pivot to asking you about your day or the book proposal or whether you got around to reading that book I sent you (it’s a chapbook, honestly, and you pretty much read for a living). And I will ask those things.

But I wanted to add, RE: your point on “closure not even being a fuckin’ real thing” that I’m not sure if I agree. Provided you’re giving yourself the grace to step away and close the chapters, relationships, painful memories in order to open something up, it’s as real as you want to make it.

But what you’re going through (all of it), it’s draining and exhausting and you’re carrying a lot. Closing a door doesn’t mean everything’s resolved behind the door, just that you’ve resolved to let yourself be on the other side.

I think you’re brave and good, if that helps. And I hope you’ll read that goddamn chapbook so we can talk about it.

Yours,

Welp. That’ll need coffee to respond to, she thought, slowly inching her legs out from under Bruce (who let out an insulted snort before snuffling back into the duvet) and heading out to the kitchen.

Mug in hand, she made her way out to the porch and took in the fall morning: the lake’s got the beginning reflections of red and orange showing through and the smell of burning leaves (they still do that out here) is already making its way to her door. The tiny one bedroom house she’d been renting is about five minutes from where she grew up (where her parents still live). It’s modest (if maybe cramped) but has big windows, a monthly rent that doesn’t drain her bank account beyond recovery and lets her be close to her mom for doctor’s appointments and long meetings with specialists that she trades off with her sister and brother.

She leaves the door open a crack, since Bruce is unlikely to last long in the bed alone before stumbling out to his sunny porch bed, and takes a seat on her own “grown-up porch couch” — an oversized wicker basket chair her little brother salvaged from a friends’ student house and spray painted white to look less wretched, paired with some overly fluffy pillows her twin sister bought her. She cracked open her computer again and tried to figure out how she’d respond.

She tried, not infrequently, to picture KC. She was sure he was good looking, despite that name feeling so deeply undignified and childish for a man in his forties. (Or is he fifty by now? A funny thing about surprise pen pals is you never really exchange birthdates or A/S/L — and, in their case, they just went for the emotional jugular). She imagined a doe-eyed John Cusack-type (maybe a bit more “High Fidelity,” actually) or, of course, a Tom Hanks “You’ve Got Mail” has crossed her mind but neither really ever felt right.

She knew a lot about him, after nearly two years of correspondence. He’s told her about the long scar going up his stomach that he got in a motorcycle accident (how he’ll forget its there even after 20 years); she knows he works in film but simply says “I help people tell lies for a living” when she asks for specifics; she knows he fell in love a few years back, after thinking he was never going to fall in love again (and that he has a gift for emphasizing the sweet of a bittersweet ending) and she know she’s a Virgo with a Cancer moon. He knew a lot about her, too: He knew birds freaked her out, that she was in the middle of final proofs of her first book and the proposal on her second; he knew she broke off an engagement (and thus a relationship spanning nearly all of her 20s) in the last year and reflexively performed being cavalier about it; he knew her mom was sick and that she left the life (the one she secretly wasn’t all that wild about) in Brooklyn to be closer to her.

It’s funny the way these little stories and pieces of ourselves can be assembled to make a person feel so whole and so close, even if they’re thousands of miles away and you’ve never seen their face and you probably wouldn’t have met if it weren’t for the right amount of happy accidents flowing in succession.

He was her happy accident and, if she were the fate-believing type she’d believe it was some of that kismet that brought him to that Fort Green bar on that rainy afternoon. She’d been transcribing some notes in one of her many junk-ish notebooks (full of story ideas, a few email addresses and phone numbers for sources, a scribbled quote, some ticket stubs and a lone piece of gum between the back pages (whoops) — all organized by chaos) and got a call from Brandon, her then-fiancé reminding her that they’d need to leave their Greenpoint apartment for his department chair’s dinner party on the Upper West Side (a thing she’d forgotten she’d agreed to do) shortly and if she was still stopping to grab the wine.

In her rush to settle up her tab, scamper to the liquor store next door and procure a fancy-ass bottle for the academic circle jerk, she left the notebook behind. Luckily, she’d remembered to scrawl her email in the front cover that time —she wasn’t going to let some rando find her address!

KC, as he told her later in one of their subsequent emails, found it and “began trying to decipher its many, many mysteries (the gum, for example).”

She couldn’t be mad, she 100 percent would’ve done the same thing if fate, kismet, the universe’s funky algorithm, who knows, left someone else’s brain-dump to her doorstep. Between that confession (and the charming apology that came with it), the emails just didn’t stop — long after he’d sent the book back.

Despite this two year friendship, she hasn’t seen his face — and only recently heard his voice. She knows he’s older than her 34 years by a not-small amount. (He doesn’t have an instagram or a Twitter and when she asked him why he responded “Oh, that. What would I do with that stuff, really?”) And 95% of the time it doesn’t bother her. But then she sees emails like that and thinks of his deep, thoughtful voice (the calm, intentional pauses when he speaks that make everything go soft and quiet over the phone line) and something in her twitches.

It’s been a long 18 months of being very single and maybe, just maybe it’s messing with her head to have such careful, considerate attention 4-8 (depending on how much they write and how busy they are) times a week.

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected].

Subject: Doors Open & Closed — moving on.

KC,

That poet soul of yours is working overtime today, bud. It’s too early for my icy heart to thaw the way it needs to if I’m going to adequately respond, so take this: I know. You’re right. I’ll try. Thank you.

And try to let it be the end of this for now.

I’m digitally and spiritually cleansing this space and cracking open this sad pamphlet of a book you sent me. Stand by for my thoughts.

Chilliest regards (with a gooey center),

P.S. You promised me that shortlist of “films I need to watch now that I work from home and can watch movies all day.” Keep in mind, my attention span is like my love life: short, sad and ridiculous.

She hits send and quickly checks in on the few dangling work emails that couldn’t wait until Monday. It’ll be a few hours before her West Coaster pen pal is up and a few more before he’s near a screen. He’s an early riser, but more of a yoga, outdoors-y, going jogging (ugh) kind than a feverish AM emailer. But she’ll forgive him that one (admittedly well-adjusted) flaw for now.

#keanu reeves fic #keanu reeves x oc #email penpal AU #You've Got Mail AU but not #keanu reeves

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pynkhues · 4 years

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hi kween! i KNOW you were struggling with writer’s block, so a big TBD on whether this question will have an answer! but do you know what your update schedule looks like for CYF and pornstar!au looks like? ooh and the other part of C&C? also, so sorry if you get a million of these messages all the time. i can only hope it’s flattering rather than annoying

It’s not annoying at all, anon! It’s actually really, really nice to know that people are keen and excited for them. :-) I got a little bit of writing done this week again, so I think the writer’s block is starting to ease, and both CYF and the pornstar!au are pretty close? I mean, the CYF chapter is done, I just want to re-write a part of a scene which is pointblank refusing to talk to me at the moment, and the pornstar!au needs a bit of editing and I still have I think two scenes left to write in it?

The PH/C&C fic has actually been talking to me, which is pretty nice, haha. It’s going to be around 20k words I think when it’s done? (it’s at 18k at the moment).

I’ve got a three-day weekend starting tomorrow, and all I’ve got planned for it is yoga, brunch with a friend, and a talk on the biology of sexuality and gender which is being done entirely by LGBTQI+ scientists and researchers, which should be super interesting! So yes! Hoping I might be able to get some real writing done in the gaps between and at least post one of these things (if not two!) :-)

In the meantime, you can have another excerpt from the PH fic:

Elizabeth opens her mouth to argue that point – probably go back to her original one, about holdin’ off, like that’s an option, when Rio asks:

“You organised anythin’ for Danny’s birthday yet?”

The question blindsides her, gets her eyes wide, blinking a little too much as she tries to catch up. She shakes her head at him.

“Rio - -”

“I looked into that art class at the Y, but I dunno,” he says, shrugging. “He didn’t like the other classes we signed him up for, and I kinda got the feelin’ they ain’t intendin’ this one for a ten-year-old and his rowdy fuckin’ siblings neither, y’know?”

The words hang for a minute, enough he can dry the last couple of dishes, only this time, he puts them away himself, finding the brief pause a relief more than anything as he opens up cabinets and tidies away the last evidence of their meal. Above them, he hears the toilet flush and then a door close.

Kenny, he thinks, judgin’ from where the sound comes from. He’ll need to check he’s actually asleep. It’s school tomorrow after all, and last thing he needs is another call at work because Kenny’s dozin’ in algebra again.

“The zoo’s doing a frog show at the moment,” Elizabeth says suddenly, breaking up his thoughts, and Rio jerks his head around to look at her, her jaw slightly forward, lips pursed in that way that means she ain’t happy about the pivot in topic, but still. She goes with it.

“There’s a rainforest conservation talk and like, a handling session and everything,” she adds, and Rio nods, because Danny’s been into rainforests since they studied them in his third grade science class last year, spouting off the difference between temperate and tropical, about how the light don’t hit the ground in the densest parts of them, but nothing more than about frogs – poison dart frogs and glass frogs and red-eyed tree frogs. Rio’s pretty sure he could rattle off enough to get some sort of honorary degree purely by way of listenin’ to the kid.

“I thought I could make a cake and maybe drop it in early at the restaurant, so Danny doesn’t see. It could be a surprise.”

Like she doesn’t make a cake for every one of them every year, Rio thinks, amused, but shit, suddenly his mind’s on the zoo. Can already hear the yawnin’ mouths of lion and the bustle of people, can feel Marcus’ weight on his shoulders, see him grin, can see somewhere, in the annals of his memory, his own father’s grin too.

It’s been a while.

“Sounds dope,” he says, and Elizabeth must hear something in his voice, because when he turns around, her face has relaxed, her jaw back to where it usually sits, her lips parted curiously, like she’s tryna figure something out – like maybe he’s still tryna distract her or somethin’. “What’s that look for?”

“Nothing,” she says with a shrug. “I don’t know. I didn’t think you’d want to do it.”

He huffs out an amused breath, wandering over to flick the kettle on to make himself a tea. Russian Caravan, he thinks, or - - hm. Maybe apple and chamomile. If he makes one of them, she might have one too. He grabs the box out, shakes it at her, and she nods.

“Why’s that?” he says, turning his attention back to the cabinets, grabbing them out a mug each.

“Because it’s the zoo,” she says dryly, playing a little with the buttons at the belly of her blouse. Rio snorts in reply, grabbing out a pair of tea strainers from the top drawer.

“Take it that means you ain’t a fan.”

“God, no,” she tells him easily, laughing. “We have five children between us. Plus Annie. My life is a zoo.”

He can’t quite bite back his grin at that, pouring in the boiling water over the tea leaves, letting the water turn bronze, as he turns back to Elizabeth.

“And the smell,” she adds, wrinkling her nose. “Like wet dog and animal poop.”

“Damn, ma, your sister don’t smell that bad.”

She gapes at that, reaching close enough to try and hit him, defendin’ her sister’s honour and whatnot, and he grabs her wrist easily, using it to tug her into him, humming, content, when the soft curves of her chest hit the hard line of his. He runs a hand down her back, untucking her blouse from her slacks before slipping his hand back up beneath her shirt, dipping his thumb beneath her bra strap, running it along the indent it’s left in her skin just to feel her shiver.

“God, how can you - - I mean. Why do you like it,” she stutters when he pulls a little at the clip on her bra, almost undoing it until she brings a hand behind herself to stop him.

Rio just shrugs. He always has really, ever since his dad used to take him, Carmen and Aida when they were kids. Their dad worked too much to do anythin’ with them often, so it felt like somethin’ when he’d take them to the zoo, when he’d get him sitting on his shoulders so he could see over the crowds, mumbling dumb shit up at him in Spanish, like how many teeth a lion has and how aardvarks trap termites by curling their tongues. Loved the most doin’ it himself with Marcus, like it connected them still somehow, him and his dad, Marcus and the abuelo he’d never get to meet. The memory’s bittersweet, but sweeter these days, the years passing since his death letting him focus on the good instead of those last years where the cancer turned him inside out.

He looks down at Elizabeth then, where she’s looking up at him, almost tells her, only to stop at the look on her face, soft and a little too bright, a little too curious, and he remembers the scattered, brief, miserable notes she’s told him about her own dad, and it halts the words on his tongue. In the end he just shrugs.

“I dunno,” he says. “Just like it.”

Elizabeth squints a little, like she don’t quite believe him, but she lets it go when he crowds her back against the kitchen island, tryna see if she’ll let him take her shirt off here.

(She won’t, but she lets him in their bedroom at least, the door closed and her lips wet. Lets him do a lotta things then.)

#my fic #welcome to my ama

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lifesizehysteria · 5 years

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Journey to You - Chapter 18 | An AdamsFoster Fic

A/N: I have so much to say and yet have really struggled to find the right words. When I started this fic almost six years ago, I had no idea what I was getting myself into. I thought I’d be done in a few months and moving on to other things. But this fic and I have been on a journey together. It was often a bumpy one and there were a lot of unexpected twists and turns but I ended up learning a lot about myself, about writing, about dedication and determination. I remember, probably two years ago now, someone messaged me and asked if they could finish the story. It was an unexpected request but it was ultimately one of the final pushes I needed to get started on the story again. I had always intended to finish it. I knew how it was going to end and I realized that if I knew that, then I should write it. Of course, writing is never so straight forward and it took time to get there but after years of thinking about it, I knew I was finally going to do it. And now, here we are, on the final chapter! It feels surreal and incredible and definitely bittersweet. I’ve been done with the story for a while now but it always felt like there was still so much ahead and now I’m letting the final chapter out into the world. I can only hope that it has been worth the wait and that everyone reading this loves the ending as much as I do.

I have a couple of Thank Yous I have to get out of the way before we can move on and the first one goes to anyone still reading this. I was afraid that when I picked this back up again, there wouldn’t be an audience for it. Especially since it was different from some of the canon given to us by the show since the original flashbacks aired. But you guys are here and you’ve been so generous with your love and support - both of me and of the fic. I’m so grateful that even though the show has ended and our fandom has gotten smaller, that some of you have stuck around and kept giving me a place to share my love for this couple. You all mean the world to me and I’m so grateful to each and every one of you.

Second, I have to thank @hyadamsfoster. She was a huge support through the first half of this fic, acting as my Stef brain when I couldn’t sort out her thoughts and motivations. We spent a lot of time talking together during those early years of the show when I was first writing this fic and without her, it wouldn’t be here.

Finally, I have to thank my wonderful friend and incredible beta, Lori. There is no way I would have finished this story without her. She thoroughly picked through numerous versions of every chapter I’ve written over the last year. She listened to me whine whenever I was stuck, helped talk me through every challenge and block, encouraged me when I was struggling for motivation, stroked my ego enough to keep me going, and trusted me to take her honesty and criticism when it was necessary - all without ever pushing too hard. I’m so blessed to have someone I can trust so surely and who I know always has my best interest at heart. Her insight into these characters and her love for them was invaluable to the creation of this story and so many others. She deserves as much credit for it as I do. Thank you for your help and even more so for your friendship. ❤️

There’s happiness out there for us, too.

Those words stuck in Stef’s head. Through dinner. Through bath time, bedtime stories, and goodnight kisses. Happiness was all she could think about. Wasn’t that what she had done all this for? All the pain, the heartache, facing all of her fears and shame? Tearing down the life she’d built – hadn’t she done it because that life, no matter how badly she wanted it, didn’t make her happy? After all of that, was she really going to walk away from happiness when she’d already found it? Was it not worth fighting for?

There’s happiness out there for us, too.

She went to bed that night with those words in her head and woke up with a newfound determination. No, she couldn’t make Lena change her mind but she could make her listen. Stef made up her mind. She wasn’t going to walk away until she had exhausted every possible avenue to get that happiness back. To get Lena back. And there was still one way she hadn’t tried because she had promised she wouldn’t. But dammit, it was the only choice she had left.

Stef drove Brandon to school that morning, dropped him off at his classroom, and headed toward the main office. Outside the door she hesitated for a minute. There would be no coming back from this. She knew that if this didn’t work, if she went against her word and it didn’t go her way, Lena would never forgive her. But if she didn’t, wasn’t the end result the same? What was a broken promise if she could just get Lena to listen, to change her mind? Maybe some promises were made to be broken.

With a resolute breath, Stef shook her hair back from her face, straightened her shirt, and headed into the office.

“Good morning, Mrs. Foster. What can I do for you?” She was greeted at the front desk by Gabriel who was, by now, a familiar face.

“I need to speak to Lena– To Ms. Adams,” Stef corrected the informality she’d grown accustomed to but didn’t bother with pleasantries. She was there with a purpose.

Gabriel folded his hands over the papers on the desk in front of him.

“Ms. Adams isn’t available right now.” The slight edge in his usually friendly voice was almost imperceptible but Stef’s grew derisive in response.

“Well, when will she be available?” “I… I don’t know. She’s in a meeting right now.”

“Mhmm.” Doubtful, she pursed her lips and lifted her chin. “Then I’ll wait,” she stated flatly, turning toward the chairs lined against the wall across from the desk.

“Actually, Mrs. Foster…”

The unsure voice had Stef swiveling back in his direction, her eyebrows raised in question.

“Ms. Adams has–” Gabriel stumbled, the tightness of his voice making his discomfort clear beneath his otherwise calm demeanor. “Well…” he continued, “she’s asked not to see you.” His smile grew stiff at the corners, mechanical and uneasy.

“She– She did?” It didn’t surprise her after everything that had happened and how Lena had been avoiding her. Yet her eyes widened and her mouth gaped a little, having confirmation that Lena had actually given direction to keep her away. Gabriel nodded, an inkling of sympathy in his eyes. The reality of it caused a sting but Stef wasn’t one to be pitied. Or dismissed. She straightened her back and crossed her arms over her chest. “Well, I need to speak to her. So, if you could please tell her I’m here.” It was a command not a request and Gabriel stiffened against it.

“I’m sorry, Ma’am, but I can’t do that.”

Stef clenched her teeth, making her jaw flex while her narrowed eyes trained on him. She took a step toward the desk and rested her fingertips on the edge as she leaned closer to him. Her voice was quiet and sharp.

“You remember that I’m a cop, yes?”

Gabriel nodded.

“Then I suggest you let Ms. Adams know that I’m here before I find some reason to arrest you.” There was a hint of a ruthless smile at the corners of her mouth as she arched her eyebrows over her unwavering stare and waited for him to argue. When he did nothing but swallow, she flashed him her most charming smile. “Good.” With a curt nod, she straightened and headed toward Lena’s office, not bothering to wait for him to call her.

As she turned the corner, Lena was exiting her office and just the sight of her made Stef’s heart flutter and her knees shake. It felt like she hadn’t seen her in a lifetime and she was overwhelmed with how much she had missed her. But as Lena strode toward her, her eyes dark and her mouth hard, it was obvious she’d been warned that she was coming. Stef’s stomach tightened, her determination wavering beneath a rush of nerves.

“I’m sorry,” she said before Lena had even reached her.

“You need to leave.” Lena’s quiet voice was harsh and heavy with authority. She stopped in front of Stef with her arms crossed tight against her chest, back straightened to its full length, shoulders square.

“Lena, please–”

“No, Stef. You can’t do this. You cannot come into my place of work and cause a scene.”

“I didn’t– I’m not trying to cause a scene,” Stef protested.

“I just had to excuse myself from a meeting to keep you from barging into the middle of it. So trying to or not, you are causing a scene.”

Stef hesitated for a moment. She hadn’t actually thought Lena was in a meeting. Heat rose to her cheeks as embarrassment crept up her spine.

“I’m sorry, Lena,” she said when she recovered. “I just… I didn’t know what else to do. I need to talk to you and you wouldn’t answer my calls or my emails…”

“Because I don’t want to talk to you, Stef. I already told you, I’m not doing this.”

It was hard to think through her racing mind and pounding heart. She couldn’t walk away now, not without Lena at least knowing that she’d done what she wanted, that she was doing the work. That she would continue to do it if she just gave her a chance.

“Lena please, just listen. I meant it when I said I was in love with you and I–”

“I am not having this conversation here,” Lena cut her off again, stepping towards her and dropping her voice low. Anger flashed in her eyes. “I’m not having this conversation at all. You need to leave,” she repeated. “Now.”

Spurred on by her desperation, feeling her last shred of hope slipping away again, Stef took another step forward, closing almost all of the distance between them.

“Did you tell Brandon that you miss me?”

Lena’s eyes widened and her neck stiffened for a second before she recovered, anger masking her surprise.

“I told you not to bring this here, Stef. You can’t–”

“Did you tell him?” Stef demanded, refusing Lena’s deflection.

“I–” Lena paused beneath Stef’s unrelenting gaze, her eyes drifting away from it as she tucked her chin down and swallowed. “Yes.”

“How can you admit that and then refuse to even hear me out?” Stef searched her face, her voice softening again. She had to convince her. “Please, Lena. Just five minutes. Give me five minutes and if you still don’t want to talk to me, I promise I’ll never bother you again.”

A tense silence fell between them where a shadow of something flickered beneath Lena’s anger.

“Please?” The word was little more than a whisper, Stef’s eyes pleading.

Lena closed her eyes, her nose flaring as she exhaled a frustrated sigh before looking at Stef again.

“Five minutes.”

Stef geared up to speak but swallowed her words when Lena held up one hand.

“Go wait outside. My meeting is almost over. I’ll meet you by my car when it’s finished.” Without another word, Lena turned on her heel and strode back to her office, leaving Stef standing speechless in the middle of the hallway.

Walking back through the main office, Stef avoided making eye contact. She didn’t know what anyone had heard or if anyone knew what was going on between them. It was obvious that Lena didn’t want her coworkers overhearing and if Stef had been thinking clearly, she wouldn’t have either.

The trek out to the parking lot gave her some time to collect herself while trying to temper the hope and nerves blossoming in her chest. This was her last chance, so if she was going to get Lena to listen, she needed to be calm. She needed to be honest without pushing or bulldozing, which she tended to do when her emotions were high. As she found Lena’s car, Stef had reeled herself in enough to clear her head but waiting made her antsy so she paced beside the vehicle, rehearsing in her head what she wanted to say.

By the time she heard footsteps approaching, Stef was standing with her arms crossed under her chest, leaning against the car and chewing on her lower lip. Turning to see Lena walking towards her, she felt that flutter in her chest start again. How had she ever thought that could be anything but love?

Pushing away from the car, she let her arms fall down by her sides. She faced Lena without any barriers – nothing to hide behind. The way she should have been when all of this started. And for the first time, out of all the times she had tried to have this conversation, Stef felt a calm fall over her. This was it. She had done what Lena asked. Her life was already permanently altered by this woman and there was no going back, no matter how it turned out. Somehow, knowing that gave her a sense of peace she’d been looking for her entire life.

Lena stopped in front of her, her defenses still up but looking less angry than she’d been a few minutes ago. She let out a small huff and shook her head.

“I’m not doing this,” she repeated the same thing she had told Stef inside. “I’m not. I’m not getting involved with a married woman. Women like you… You are just passing through. But this is where I live, Stef–”

Stef cut her off. Lena still didn’t get that Stef was in this. Really, really in this and that was what she needed her to know. If she was going to turn her down again, she was going to do it knowing that Stef had done her part and had shown up. Even if it had been a little late.

“I told Mike. And I told my dad and I told all of my– Well, most of my friends. I told them I’m gay.” Stef paused for a moment, watching as Lena’s demeanor began to shift ever so slightly. “I even used the word lesbian.”

It came out almost as a joke but she was so proud of herself for getting that word out, for actually saying it that she needed Lena to know. And the way Lena’s chin tilted down and her brows drew together, she could tell Lena needed hear it, too.

“I told them I met a woman that I can’t live without and I– I belong with you, Lena…” As her emotions spilled over, her voice started to break. This was the point of no return, her heart laid bare with nothing to guard it, for Lena to choose whether or not to take it.

Lena shifted on her feet, swallowing as she looked away from Stef for the first time. She blinked and pressed her lips together while Stef tried to decipher her body language, searching her face for some sign that she had heard, that she understood what she was saying. An uncomfortable vulnerability glistened in Stef’s eyes, making her face warm and flushed. It was too much. She needed Lena to give her something, anything. Even if it was a no.

“That is if you’ll…” she started to prompt her before trailing off, afraid of the answer.

“You had me at lesbian,” Lena said, shaking her head, the ghost of a smile on her lips.

The hesitant smile that grew on Stef’s face was nothing like the elation that spread from her heart to fill her all the way to the tips of her toes. She felt like she was inside herself for the first time, seeing Lena through her own eyes and feeling the magnetic pull that had been guiding her towards her this whole time. As they stood there, Lena seemed stuck, stunned and still fighting that pull that she must have felt, too. But Stef was done fighting it. She was powerless against its force, powerless against her, and, finally, she was free from the prison that kept them apart. So, Stef took Lena’s wrists with gentle hands to draw her in and was met with no resistance.

Lena’s arms settled around Stef’s waist as the distance between them closed. Stef’s heart pounded in her chest, her hands shaking as they slid up Lena’s arms and around to her back. They came together, their foreheads touching, lips just a breath apart. Stef marveled at the way someone could make her feel so fragile and so strong at the same time.

Their lips met and Stef felt Lena’s radiance spread through her, stronger than it ever had before. Lena’s hands clung to her back as she kissed her with such tenderness that she kissed Stef’s breath away. Stef held her closer, soaking up her warmth and when she opened her eyes, the world around them glowed with brilliant, golden light. She cupped Lena’s cheek, reveling in the softness as she peered into her dark eyes, watching them dance with sunlight.

“I love you, Lena,” she breathed.

“I love you, too,” Lena whispered back, shaking her head as if she couldn’t quite believe it. But Stef had never felt so sure of anything. As she drew her in for another kiss, she knew that as long as she had Lena, she would never face darkness again. The cold would never touch her and she would live in the light forever. For in her arms, she held the sun.

#adamsfosterfic #adamsfoster #the fosters #otp: adamsfoster #fanfiction #jty #jty story #written by lifesizehysteria

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kkruml · 6 years

Text

STAY chapter 9

This story has been a labor of love, and I have wrestled with its writing more than I care to admit.

As always, a huge THANK YOU to @missclairebelle and @sassenachwaffles for helping me find focus with where I want to take this story, and for making sure what I write actually makes sense.

Mood Music

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

AO3

Previously

He could see the exhaustion in her petite frame as she shrugged her shoulders. Her eyes were bloodshot and though she gave her best attempt at a smile, he saw the toll his confession had taken on her. The emotional and physical exhaustion was plain on her glass face; she could have been knocked over with a soft breath, so he didn’t press her further. Instead, he opened his arms and she melted into him, her arms wrapping around his waist. He rested his cheek against her curls and relaxed for the first time since she left his bed.

The faint clink of a coffee mug sent a shiver through her body and she tensed. Tilting her head to see his face, he saw panic in her eyes as her voice shook, “Is… someone here?”

‘No… well yes… but it’s no what ye think.” He heard the familiar steps behind him and watched Claire’s face relax as she took in the bushy beard behind him. Jamie kept his arms around her as he turned to see his uncle, a grin wide across his face.

Murtagh raised an eyebrow as he eyed her, “Ye must be the lass, I reckon.”

Claire’s eyes darted to Jamie’s and he smiled as he watched a rosy blush warm her cheeks.

“I supposed I must be,” she cleared her throat, standing up straighter as her hands gripped Jamie firmly, “I’m Claire.”

Claire

It had been two weeks since Jamie told her.

After the initial moment of truth, he grew quiet again. Jamie was testing the waters, searching for acceptance and understanding from Claire. In unprompted moments he would carefully piece together scattered memories from his mind- how Annalise took her tea, her favorite song on the radio, the way she left the dirty dishes in the sink.

Nothing overly personal but rather trivial pieces of the mundane that when connected end to end, differentiate one person from the next. His shoulders lifted slightly with each admission. Like clockwork, he would retreat slightly back into himself to evaluate the new chink in his armor before remerging from the shadows- lighter and more relieved.

In turn, she gave him space, time, comfort. Small touches and silent affirmations with a smile or squeeze of his hand in hers. Each contact was a balm and he leaned into her caress, continuing to build the truth between them.

Trudging home after a long shift from the hospital, she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket.

Still at work, Sassenach?

She sighed; she wasn’t supposed to be. She should have been fast asleep under a heap of blankets, but instead she was dodging puddles and shuffling down the pavement towards her flat.

Long shift, almost home. Everything ok?

She pulled her jacket closer to her body as she picked up the pace. Two more blocks, almost there.

Aye- just wanted to say goodnight.

A small smile pulled at her lips, and she wished he was uttering his words into the curve of her neck as they lay tangled in bed together instead of tapping his words into the keyboard of his phone. As if he heard her thoughts, her phone buzzed again.

Can ye see fit to pick up the pace? Yer bed is lonely wi’out ye.

Long fingers gently stroked her arm and she felt her body melt into his side. Her breath slowly matched his and for the first time in eighteen hours she felt happy. The exhaustion deep in her bones subsided like a wave dissipating on the shore. Pulling him closer, she sighed, “Mmm.”

“I like that sound, Sassenach.” She felt a hum against her throat as his lips grazed her forehead. His chest shuddered underneath her, and she lifted her head to see his eyes closed tightly. “I didna think I’d ever hear it in my bed again.”

He slowly opened his eyes and met her gaze, traces of sadness pulling at his eyebrow as it creased. Her smile was bittersweet- half hopeful that he was happy she was with him, half sorrowful that for every moment of bliss that brought them closer also reminded him of what had been taken from him.

Taken.

So many things taken.

From Jamie.

From Claire.

Moments gone- scattered to the wind.

Images of white roses on matching coffins flashed before her mind. “I know what you mean… in a way.”

After two breaths he answered, his voice barely audible. “Aye… I ken ye do.”

“Yes,” she started slowly, whispers of memories creeping into her vision. “It’s been weeks since I’ve felt truly relaxed, happy. After Boston… my world has felt empty… heavy.”

His arm tightened around her and his fingers sank into her curls, cupping her head to his chest.

Lightness, bubbling up from deep inside; like butterfly wings against her heart before flushing her cheeks and setting a fire to her eyes.

“Did it hurt?” Two fingers wandered to the curve of her back and he traced the black silhouette inked into her skin. “… the tattoo?”

“Yes… and no.” She paused for a moment, considering the question. The thought of touching the gaping wound in her chest made her flinch. “After losing… them… I didn’t think anything could hurt me anymore.”

“Do ye ever wonder if ye deserve to be happy again?”

“Deserve?” She lifted her head to see his eyes focused on a distant point on the ceiling. The word pierced her heart and she felt its lingering burn as the echo of the word faded. “Bad things- terrible things- they just happen. It doesn’t mean we’re condemned to a life of sadness.”

Unconvinced, he cleared his throat but did not reply.

“We all deserve happiness, Jamie.”

A Scottish grunt rumbled deep in his chest.

“No god worth his salt would want you to be unhappy Jamie. Want us to be unhappy.”

His hand traveled to her shoulder and traced small circles against her skin. “Do ye think we can be happy… together?”

Taking a moment to steady her breathing, she placed her hand on his chest- his heart a thrumming freight train beneath her fingers. “I think we can.”

Her words hung in the air as she felt his breathing deepen until his eyes fluttered closed. Her eyes traveled to his mouth, but tonight she saw no curl of his lip.

He turned to her silently in the dark, his hands caressing the curves of her shoulder to her hip. Molding his form to hers, she breathed in his scent as it mixed with hers.

With their armor shed and nerves exposed, they were tentative with each other, softly seeking the connection so urgently forged when they first came together. The look in his eyes as he pressed into her haunted her as she saw a distance form, a sliver of a crack with the faintest of light seeping through. His grip on her waist and breath on her neck filled the gap and pushed out the darkness as she lost herself to the taste of his skin on her lips and the heat of his skin as it mixed with hers.

“So, no Viking tonight?” Geillis’s voice cut through Claire’s thoughts, and the clear blue eyes in Claire’s vision faded.

“Oh… no. He’s busy with his uncle tonight,” a shadow of a smile played at Claire’s lips but did not meet her eyes. “Besides… I was in need of a girl’s night.”

She hadn’t lied; it was true, it had been two weeks since she had been out with Geillis and she needed a night without thinking- feeling.

Each night with Jamie was new and yet familiar, she felt safe in his arms but still felt her heart hammering against her ribcage with each touch and sensation of his body. But with each new discovery came the whisper of a sense that they weren’t alone, that his ghost was in the bedroom with them- slowly closing in like a black hole, threatening to take them both.

“Well then,” Geillis nodded, shifting her eyes back to her glass, taking the last sip of her whisky and holding it up to the light, “If it’s gonna be another fortnight before I can pry you out of that bedroom…What do ye say, Beauchamp- have ye forgotten how to drink or are ye in for one more?”

With the quirk of an eyebrow she lifted her empty glass to Geillis. “I can still outdrink you, Geillis. Next round is on me.”

Jamie

Just a quick hello, then I’m off.

His phone buzzed twice more as he rounded the last block to her flat. Checking the messages, he picked up the pace until he was at her door, deftly inserting the key into the lock. Shuffling out of his shoes, he stepped from the entryway into the living room, finding a spread of curls against a pillow. Tiptoeing to the couch, he softly tucked a stray curl from her face behind her ear, his thumb trailing the line of her cheekbone as his hand lingered.

She stirred under his touch and as her eyes fluttered open, a shy smile formed as she whispered, “You’re here.”

“Aye,” he gently lowered himself onto the couch, his lips seeking hers. The warmth of her body pulled him closer and he melted into her as her fingers traveled from his cheek to his curls. Resisting the urge to deepen the kiss, he pulled back and lowered his head to rest on her ribcage.

Dinna get carried away, Fraser. Ye canna stay long.

“I missed ye is all.” He closed his eyes and lost himself in the feel of her fingers against his scalp, the steady rise and fall of her chest, the softness of her breast beneath his cheek. As euphoria was threatening to overcome him, he sighed heavily and shifted his body to stand. Her fingers tightened into his hair and held him close, and without hesitation he sank back down against her.

“Are you not staying?” Behind a light tone, he heard the disappointment.

“I have to go- my sister is in labor with my first nephew- she’d skin me alive if I wasna there.”

Her breathing hitched for a moment but she cleared her throat and softened her grip, “Congratulations. You should get going then, you said it’s a fair drive to get… home.”

“I’m sorry I haventa leave ye, Sassenach,” his voice was low as it hummed against her stomach. His arms tightened around her as he placed a soft kiss just below her navel. “Ye could come wi’ me, ye ken.”

He felt her heartbeat quicken as he waited. Her voice was tight as she asked, “To Lallybroch?”

A coy grin played at his lips as he watched her face crinkle. “Aye.”

#STAY fic #outlander #fan fic #outlander fan fic #jamie x claire

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dr-m-r-ma · 5 years

Text

Electric Shock

Part 22/30

Genre: drama, romance Rating: PG-13 Group: Monsta X Summary of previous chapter: Hyo-jin remembers the memories she lost, except when she was about to grasp the key to her lost memories of Monsta X she is woken up by the doctor. The next day, Jooheon and I.M. visit her.

Disclaimer: This is 100% fictional and my own story. It is unrelated to the actual events and real persons of Monsta X and Starship. Hyo-jin Lee is a completely made-up character that I created for this fanfic. Parts will be written in Korean with English translations. I did not major in English/Korean, nor was I ever strong in English/Korean grammar, so there will be grammatical mistakes. This is also the first fanfic I have ever written, so please overlook small mistakes. This fanfic is written in third person and past-tense for ease of writing.

Jooheon and I.M. pulled up chairs to sit next to Hyo-jin's bed. Jooheon glanced at her leg and asked, "깁스는 언제 빼?" (Translation: "When can you take off your cast?")

"음.. 8주이따?" (Translation: "Um.. after 8 weeks?") Both of them squirmed hearing the length and I.M. asked, "그럼 8주동안 병원에 있어야 돼?" (Translation: "Then do you have to stay at the hospital for 8 weeks?")

Noticing that the conversation was heading towards when she would leave the hospital, she carefully responded, "아니, 한 1주일? 2주동안 있고 선생님이 퇴원 할수있다고 그러면 집에 갈수있어." (Translation: "No, like after one week? Or two weeks I can go home when the doctor says I can leave.") Hyo-jin silently thought, 'I threw in one week so technically I didn't lie... that much.'

Jooheon smiled, "생각보다 빨리 나올수 있네!" (Translation: "You can leave sooner than I thought!") Hyo-jin's smile faltered for a moment, but she quickly corrected herself before they noticed. She felt bad that they seemed genuinely happy for her that she didn't have to stay in the hospital for too long.

"현우형한테 들으니까 그날은 다 기억하지만 우리만 기억 못한다고..." (Translation: "From what Hyunwoo-hyung said, you remember everything that day except us...") I.M. cautiously brought up. He made a sideways glance at Jooheon before looking back at her, and she noticed Jooheon plaster an awkward stiff smile. 'Uhh...'

She tightened her lips for a moment before replying, "미안.. 가끔 충격 받으면 이렇게 기억이... 없어져... 근데 또 생각안할때 돌아와." (Translation: "Sorry.. I lose memories... when I experience a shock... but they come back when I least expect it.") She saw Jooheon's eyes lower from her face to the bed, so she added, "그래서 다들 기억은 안 나지만, 이렇게 얘기 하니까 편한 느낌이 들어." (Translation: "So I don't remember you all but talking to you guys gives me a comfortable feeling.")

At that, Jooheon lifted his head and smiled warmly. I.M. saw the obvious change in Jooheon's smile and shook his head while laughing to himself. He teased his older friend, and rattled off to Hyo-jin, "이형이 되게 실망 했어, 그때 어렵게 가까��졌는데 까먹었다고 킄" (Translation: "This hyung was really disappointed because it took a while for you guys to get close but you forgot him lol")

Jooheon turned to I.M. and lightly threw a punch at his arm. He growled, "야!! 내가 언제?!" (Translation: "Hey!! When did I?!")

I.M. grabbed Jooheon's wrists before he could throw more punches and said, "어제 말했잖아! 삐진상태에서~" (Translation: "Yesterday! When you were sulking~") Jooheon's eyes grew round and large, and he glared at I.M. as if he was hitting him with his eyes. Hyo-jin laughed at the playfulness and asked, "지금부터 또 알게되면 괜찮지? 그래서 그룹안에서 뭐 하는데? 노래? 랩?" (Translation: "It's okay if we get to know each other today again, right? So what do you guys do in the group? Singing? Rap?")

As soon as she asked, Jooheon raised his arms and I.M. followed suit, albeit rolling his eyes. She stared curiously until Jooheon and I.M. both dabbed and shouted "랩!!! 스웨그~" (Translation: "RAP!! Swag~") Hyo-jin squinted and cringed before bursting out into a fit of laughter. Jooheon looked at her in surprise, wondering what was so funny, while I.M. nodded and said, "weird, I know."

Hyo-jin wiped her eyes and demanded, "그럼 랩 들려줘. 아니면 최근에 나온 곡!" (Translation: "Then rap for me. Or let me listen to a song that came out recently!")

From then on, Jooheon and I.M. excitedly showed her Monsta X music videos and let her listen to their mixtapes. The three of them talked and listened to music for awhile. Hyo-jin felt much more alive and awake; being able to talk to these animated people brought back the laughter and joy in her.

15:50

*Buzzz* I.M. looked down and exclaimed, "아! 형 우리 빨리 가야돼, 늦겠다." (Translation: "Ah! Bro we need to leave, we're going to be late.") Everyone looked at the time, and only then did they realize more than two hours had passed.

Hyo-jin asked, "스케줄 있었어? 그럼 빨리 가야지." (Translation: "You guys had work? Then you should leave.") They nodded and put on their coats, getting ready to leave. Jooheon looked at Hyo-jin and pouted, "우린 다음주까지 못와. 좀 바빠질��라서... 다음주 시간 있을때 또 올게, 꼭!" (Translation: "We can't come again until next week. Things are getting busy... so we'll visit again for sure next week!")

She smiled softly, knowing in her head that this meant today was the last day. She motioned for the two of them to come closer and when they did, she took each of their hands in hers. Jooheon blushed, and I.M. looked at her puzzled. She shook their hands like handshakes and said, "와줘서 고마웠어. 오랜만에 재밌게 논 느낌이었어." (Translation: "Thanks for coming. I feel like it's been a long time since I had this much fun.")

I.M. smiled, seeming slightly confused, and said, "응 또 만나자." (Translation: "yeah let's meet again.")

Hyo-jin smiled and let go of their hands. As they headed out the door and looked back at her, she waved her hands and said, "조심히 가! ... 안녕!" (Translation: "Be careful on your way back! ...Bye!") The door closed and she was left in the empty room once again.

As they stepped into the elevator, Jooheon asked I.M., "마지막에 좀 이상하지 않았냐?" (Translation: "Wasn't it a little weird at the end?") I.M. shrugged at the question, but Jooheon remembered how bittersweet Hyo-jin's smile looked when she was waving them bye. He looked down at the hand that held Hyo-jin's and the heat returned to his cheeks.

When the elevator reached ground floor, I.M. snapped Jooheon out of his daze and said, "늦었어 늦었어!! 빨리 좀 나와!" (Translation: "We're late we're late!! Hurry up!") I.M. ran out to catch a taxi while Jooheon stepped out of the elevator. Someone ran past I.M. and Jooheon to catch the elevator. Jooheon paused and turned around slowly. The door began to close and Jooheon caught a glimpse of the person in the elevator. He frowned and thought, ‘매니저형?’ (Translation: ‘Manager?’) Before he could question it, I.M. hollered for him after catching a taxi.

16:10

Hyo-jin checked her phone for any messages and noticed her mother had sent her a text an hour before.

"그사람이 너랑 얘기한다고 올거야. 비행기표하고 무슨 각서도 가져온데. 15:00" (Translation: "That person is going to come to talk to you. He said he's bringing the airplane tickets and some kind of contract.")

She gazed blankly at the text before realizing there was another text after. She scrolled down and saw that her mother was coming soon.

"저녁때 갈거야. 병원밥도 먹고 뭐 다른거 먹고싶어? 15:05" (Translation: "I'll be there at dinnertime. Do you want to eat anything else, after eating hospital food?")

She replied to her mother that she didn't really care for snacks and set down her phone. Realizing her room was getting darker as the clouds rolled in and blocked the sun, Hyo-jin leaned towards the night stand to turn on the lamp. Just then, she heard the door open again. She looked up and saw the manager.

"오셨어요? 들어오세요." (Translation: "You came? Come in.") Hyo-jin motioned him to the chairs left behind by Jooheon and I.M. The manager closed the door and walked towards her. He bowed and introduced himself, "몬스타엑스 매니저입니다. 회사 대리인이라고 생각 하시면 돼요." (Translation: "I'm Monsta X's manager. You can think of me as the company representative.")

He sat down and handed her a large yellow envelope. As Hyo-jin took out the documents, the manager explained, "비행기표는 두게있고, 여기 각서요." (Translation: "There's two airplane tickets and here, the contract.") He pointed to her copy and handed his copy, which was already signed by him and the company, Starship, CEO. She skimmed over the contract, realizing her copy was in English and their copy was in Korean. She asked, "똑같은 각서인가요? 제가 법적인 언어에 약해서요." (Translation: "Are these the same contracts? Because I'm a little weak with legal language.")

The manager nodded sternly, "네, 똑같은 각서이에요. 모를실까봐 영어로 되있어요. 뒤에보시면 한국어로 되있는 오리지널이 있어요." (Translation: "Yes, they are the same. Yours is in English in case you don't understand. If you look at the back, you have the original in Korean.") Hyo-jin skimmed over the English and read over the Korean contract he had and confirmed that they were the same contract. Though she couldn't understand a couple of difficult words, 99% of the contract was the same. The manager added, "아무한테 얘기하시면 안돼요 - 당연히 떠날때까지 현우한테 말하면 안됩니다. 스케줄 때문에 못 올것 같은데 혹시 오더라도 각서에 있는 내용과 연락처 같은것도 말 하면 안됩니다." (Translation: "You can't tell anyone -- of course you can't tell Hyunwoo until you leave. He probably can't come because of his schedule, but in case he still comes you are not to tell him about the contract contents or exchange contact information.")

With a vacant look in her eyes, she nodded and slowly signed her name on both contracts. The manager stood and handed her his business card. "무슨 문제든 물어볼게 있으시면 이 번호로 연락하시면 돼요. 그럼." (Translation: "If you have any problems or questions, you can call me at this number. Then.") He bowed and walked out. Hyo-jin stared at his business card and set it down on top of the contract she had just signed. She flipped through the documents and found the airplane tickets. Sighing, she thought, 'well... he sure made it obvious, specifically telling me I couldn't say anything to Shownu.'

Hyo-jin slipped everything back to the envelope and slide the envelope on top of her medical folder. She tucked herself deep under the blankets and closed her eyes, hoping to have a smooth sleep with no dreams.

*** TBC ***

#electric fic #mx fic #mx fanfic #jooheon fic #shownu fic #monsta x fic #monsta x fanfic #jooheon #shownu #changkyun #kpop fic #kpop fanfic

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moonbeambucky · 6 years

Text

Dearly Departed

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 3480 Warnings: Death, a touch of angst, fluff

Summary: After a mission you learn your grandmother has passed away. Bucky accompanies you to her funeral.

A/N: This is my submission for @supersoldierslover Taw's 3k Writing Challenge. My prompt was Going to a funeral together. Reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated! pic not mine

You inhale triumphantly, letting out the satisfying breath in response to another successful mission. Your body is sore and a little banged up but otherwise alright. Everyone is safe and thanks to T’Challa and his Wakandan reinforcements a large Hydra base in Kenya has been taken down.

As your captives are being interrogated you use this opportunity to get cleaned up, grabbing your bag from the jet you look forward to changing into clean clothes. You find a washroom, turning your phone on you set it to the side as you splashed cold water on your face, hissing as it stings the abrasion on your temple. You try to be a little more mindful as you continue to wash away the dirt, sweat and pure exhaustion off of your face.

You groan, feeling the ache in your muscles from the stretch of your body over the sink. Several dings erupt from your phone at once, alerting you to the various messages you’ve accrued. Taking a towel to gently pat away the wetness off your face, you begin to closely inspect your injury before a new ding forces you to grab your phone.

It’s common for you to expect a few messages from your Mom, whether you’re on a mission or not she’s always checking in. You have a few texts, the latest from your Dad asking you to call him and several voicemails from both your parents, an unknown number and your cousin. A brief pang of anxiety urges you to listen to the message from the unknown number. Ugh, a phone scam. Shouldn’t you be exempt from those? You’re an Avenger! What good was Tony Stark if he couldn’t even block these calls?

You listen to the voicemails in order. The first is your Mom checking in as expected. The next is from your cousin, the message isn’t that clear but she sounds stuffed up. Her kid was sick last week so maybe she is too. Your Mom left another message, wanting to schedule a dinner with you and Bucky. She was anxious to meet the man who had your heart.

As you listened to the voicemail from your Dad it felt like time stood still. The sorrow in his voice told you everything before he spoke the actual words, “Y/N, give me a call please. Grandma passed away.” You couldn’t believe it.

Well, that’s a lie, you could believe it you just didn’t want to. She was 94 and mostly bedridden. After your Grandpa passed a few years ago she was never the same. She had always shown signs of forgetfulness but it was expected as she grew older. A decade ago she was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s but was able to manage it for a while.

With the absence of your grandfather her mind slipped away. Dementia had set in and it was difficult to watch the vibrant woman who helped raise you become a shell of her former self. Sometimes there was a glimmer of recognition in her eyes when you visited her. You would hold her hand and talk about anything. She would babble unintelligible sounds in response but you continued, biting back the pain you felt seeing her this way.

Other times her condition worsened, she laid in bed with a scowl on her face, refusing to eat or drink, not wanting to be touched by the family her mind deemed to be strangers. You tried to speak with her, to get her to remember you; surely she could never forget her first grandchild but nothing you did made a difference.

Your visits became less frequent as the pressures of real life increased but the guilt never left you. You felt like you should be visiting her more, but when you were lucky to have time off from a mission or training you wanted nothing more than to just relax or sleep in. You called her when you remembered, her aide Maria would put you on speaker or you would attempt to FaceTime when one of your parents were there.

The last time you saw her was for her birthday a few months ago. You were shocked as you entered her bedroom, convinced that the ghostly figure in front of you wasn’t your grandmother. She was so frail, her skin was near translucent as it hung off her bones, her once beautiful hair was now sparse, exposing most of her scalp. Her face was the worst of it. She was pale with hollowed cheeks and her vacant eyes sunk deep into her expressionless face. You put on a brave face, staying there while the family “celebrated” around her. Now she’s gone. This wasn’t a shock but it hurts all the same.

You left the washroom, forgoing the opportunity to change your clothes. You pushed past a group of faceless people in your tear blurred vision. Making your way outside, you took a deep inhale, expanding your lungs with a big swell of crisp air before calling your Dad.

Bucky noticed the way you left the building, dodging quickly through a crowd of people with your head down. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. When you didn’t return quickly he decided to follow you outside. The phone hadn’t left your hands as you switched between calls, texts, and emails simultaneously. You asked if there was anything you could do but your Dad assured you that everything was in order. Of course it was but the guilt ate at you, just showing up didn’t feel like it would be enough. You wanted to do more, to prove to yourself that you were a good grandchild.

“Y/N is everything alright?” Bucky said softly, interrupting your thoughts and startling you.

He sat next to you, taking in your tear stained cheek as you told him the news. His arms wrapped around you, bringing you close to his warm body, your hand wiped away tears as you silently cried.

You pulled yourself together enough to head back inside. Steve, Tony and the rest of the team were in a conference room discussing the details learned from the interrogation. Quietly taking a seat you waited for the opportunity to inform the team about what happened. As they discussed the next location everyone would be headed to your mind drifted, reliving bittersweet memories in your head.

“Y/N did you get that?” Steve asked, though you didn’t hear the question. “I’m sorry Steve, everyone,” you spoke, making eye contact with the faces around you, “My grandmother passed away and I need to go home.”

Your words seemed to suck the life out of the room as everyone’s faces dropped, offering their condolences. Sam immediately pulled you in for a hug with Wanda standing next you, rubbing comforting circles on your back.

“Steve, I’d really like to be with Y/N. Do you need me for the next mission?” Bucky asked out of courtesy, knowing that he would be accompanying you no matter what the answer. “Of course Buck, we’ll manage,” Steve replied.

“Thank you,” you repeated over again in response to their sympathies, not being able to commit to a smile. “I need to find a flight. Where’s the nearest airport? Do I even have my passport?” you rambled, pressing the heel of your palms into your eyes.

T’Challa’s velvety smooth voice interrupted your thoughts, “I can help with accommodation.” He stood beside you, grabbing your shoulder with a firm hold, “It is important for you to be there to honor your grandmother.”

Though he meant well T’Challa’s words left you feeling hollow, letting the guilt beat you up again for not actually being there for her. Pushing your thoughts down you thanked him for his offer to provide a jet for you and Bucky.

Much to Tony’s dismay it was a standard quinjet. “You know, one day I’ll get my hands on that tech of yours,” he remarked to T’Challa. The Wakandan King smirked, “I’d like to see you try,” he taunted.

After saying goodbye to everyone Bucky grabbed your bag and led you to the jet. He suggested you get some rest during the trip home and as nice as that sounded you couldn’t, your mind was spinning, unable to give you peace.

You began working on a eulogy, knowing what you wanted to say about your Grandma but not having the skill or patience to properly write it down. You ended up erasing a lot more words than you wrote. After staring at the screen of your laptop for too long your heavy eyelids felt desperate to close. Shifting in the chair to find a comfortable position you shut your eyes but you didn’t expect any sleep would come.

Bucky looked over towards you, your creased brows showed tension on your face and he vowed to do anything to make you feel better. He loved you with every fiber of his being, wanting nothing more than to return the love you gave him, the love he often felt he was unworthy of. You opened your heart to him and he was grateful for you.

It wasn’t long before you were back at the compound. Bucky offered to make dinner but despite your growling stomach you declined. Heading straight to your closet you pushed aside hangers, throwing clothes to the ground in search of an appropriate outfit. After a few more phone calls with family you called towards Bucky letting him know you were going to take a shower.

Peeling off your jumpsuit you tossed it as aside you climbed into the steamy shower. Tipping your head back to wet your hair you let the water run down your body as your mind drifted again, thinking to a time you slept over Grandma’s house. Remembering that she would read to you before bed, tickling you as she tucked you in, the room filled with your shared laughter.

You sunk to the bottom, crying at the realization that she’s gone. The hot water poured down on your body, your skin flushed under the uncomfortable heat but you didn’t care, your grief didn’t allow you to move. You hadn’t heard the knocks at the door, Bucky entered the bathroom, panicking when he did not see your form through the fogged up shower doors.

“Y/N! Y/N are you alright?” he shouted frantically, sliding open the shower door. You picked your head up from its cradled position between your knees, looking up at him, shaking your head back and forth as you bawled.

He reached his arm out to gently caress your face. “Oh, sweetheart,” he sighed. “Let me help you.” You nodded, wiping away the tears and water from your face.

Bucky removed his clothes and stepped into the shower. He helped get you to your feet, pulling your burning hot body to his cool chest by comparison. One arm wrapped around your back as the other adjusted the temperature before bringing it back around you, pressing your bare form closer to him with a comforting embrace. He kissed the top of your head as you cried on his chest, your arms held his back as you stood together, naked and intimate but not at all sexual.

Pulling away to take a deep breath, Bucky lifted up your chin. “It’s gonna be okay, Y/N,” he whispered softly, pressing his lips to your forehead. Tears silently streamed from your eyes, indistinguishable from the flowing water from the showerhead.

Uncapping the shampoo bottle, Bucky squirted a generous amount in his hands and brought it to your hair. He softly massaged your scalp with his fingertips as he lathered up the strands, making sure that suds did not get in your eyes. He unhooked the showerhead to rinse the shampoo from your hair before repeating the process with conditioner.

When it was time to wash your body Bucky grabbed your loofah and lathered it with body wash. His steel blue eyes met yours, waiting for permission to continue. The corners of your lips turned up slightly as you nodded in approval, appreciative of the love and respect Bucky had for you. He gently scrubbed your body bringing the loofah up and down your arms, across your back and shoulders, down the long line of your neck down to your breasts. He was delicate, keeping a chaste touch as he ran the loofah over them.

When you were finished Bucky wrapped you in a towel and brought you to the bed. He sat behind you, doing his best to comb through your hair without causing you discomfort. When he was finished you leaned your head on his shoulder, taking his hand in yours.

“Thank you Bucky,” you murmured, feeling his hand squeeze yours in response.

You changed into loose clothes and ate a sandwich he prepared. Your mind didn’t want to eat but you needed the energy only so you could continue writing your eulogy. You stayed up long after midnight to finish it, quietly crawling into bed so you didn’t disturb Bucky.

He was a light sleeper and so when he felt the dip in the mattress his eyes shot open, his arms reaching out to you, cuddling your body as you slept.

Sometimes waking up early can be satisfying. Waking up early after only a few hours of sleep is not, and the thought of conversing all day with people about your Grandmother’s death made you want to crawl back in bed for the next six months.

You did your best trying to cover the deep bags under your eyes with makeup, debating if you should wear sunglasses despite the abundance of clouds. You put on a three-quarter sleeve black dress with black stockings and matching heels in the color of the day.

You groan as you give yourself a once over, fixing your hair so it covers the abrasion on your temple. Bucky waited for you in the common room, dressed in a dark grey suit that accentuated his broad frame. He slicked back his long hair, tying it back in a small bun at the base of his neck. He stood up as you entered the room and you commented on how handsome he looked.

Bucky’s thumb rubbed comforting circles on your knee during the drive to the funeral home. When you arrived you shut your eyes and breathed deeply to try to stave off the anxieties that were creeping their way through your body. Bucky gave you words of encouragement as he pulled out a leather glove for his metal hand. You insisted he didn’t have to do that but he wanted to, this wasn’t the time or place for any unwanted attention.

Gripping his hand tightly you walk into the building, squeezing when you see your Grandmother’s name on a bulletin board to direct attendees. You find your parents at the end of a hallway, letting go of Bucky’s hand to hug them. Tears escaped your eyes and you harshly wiped them away, hoping you didn’t rub your concealer off as well.

Bucky stood beside you, hands clasped together in front of him as he waited for you.

“Mom, Dad, this is James,” you introduced him. He shook both of their hands, offering his condolences. “It’s a pleasure to meet you James. I’m just sorry it’s under these circumstances,” your father said regretfully.

As Bucky and your Dad spoke your Mom mouthed, “He’s cute.” Your head dropped with a chuckle, rubbing stray tears away as you checked your eyes in a compact mirror.

Your parents stood in the lobby as they waited to speak with the funeral director. The service wasn’t for another hour so you took the opportunity to go into the room taking Bucky with you.

The cherry wood casket was polished to perfection, a spray of white lilies adorned the top with a large white bow. You were glad the casket was closed, choosing to remember your Grandma in a better state than she had recently been in.

Bucky was staring at a large photograph of her, a black and white portrait showcasing her beautiful smile. Her curls were peaking out through a small hat adorned with flowers and beads.

“She’s beautiful Y/N. You have her smile,” Bucky commented as he admired her.

You laughed, reminded yourself that Bucky was technically only a few years older than her. You locked hands, “I think she would have really liked you,” you remarked.

Your eyes drifted to the large arrangement of flowers beside her photo. It was a tall display of pink roses and carnations, your Grandma’s favorites. Every week your Grandpa would bring her a bouquet of pink carnations, splurging when he had a few extra dollars to give her pink roses. After his passing she would buy herself the flowers, arranging the vase next to a photo of them from their 50th wedding anniversary.

Soon the room was filled with people, familiar faces you couldn’t quite place interspersed between family and friends. Everyone came up to you with their tearful hugs, you felt like you were drowning in a sea of condolences. Bucky stood beside you offering his comfort as you had repetitive conversations with everyone.

As the service began you nervously fiddled with the hem of your dress. Bucky took your hand into his, the warmth transferred to your own cold and clammy hand providing temporary comfort. You swallowed harshly when it was your turn to give your speech.

The papers rustled loudly as you placed them down on the podium heightening your nerves. You began to read the eulogy but as you said your Grandmother’s name a hard lump got caught in your throat, you tried to continue speaking but your voice was too shaky; you had to stop to avoid a full breakdown.

The longer you paused the more anxious you felt as every face in the crowded room stared at you, all eyes focused and waiting. Your vision started to blur again with tears until you focused on one face, one pair of eyes, overcast like a thunderstorm out at sea.

Bucky mouthed “you can do this” and that helped you gather your thoughts, continuing your speech as you shared fond memories of the woman you loved so much. Returning to your seat you took Bucky’s hand, intertwining your fingers and leaned your head on his shoulder.

People shuffled out of the room when the service was over, some lingered in the lobby of the building as they awaited instructions for the next destination.

You left Bucky to use the restroom, mainly to check that your eye makeup hadn’t smudged from crying. Upon exiting you saw your Dad standing alone, reflectively staring into the room where his mother previously laid. You stood next to him, unsure of what more could be said after today.

“That was a nice speech Y/N,” he spoke, breaking the silence.

Sighing deeply you nodded and thanked him. Simultaneously you both commented on how much you’ll miss her.

“She’ll be with Grandpa now,” you said. His eyebrows raised as his lips pressed flat into a bittersweet smile. “Oh speaking of, nice touch with the flowers Dad, they’re beautiful.”

Your father turned his head curiously, “I didn’t buy any flowers. Your Uncle might have, the peace lilies I think.” “What about the big display, the roses and carnations?” “That wasn’t me. I forget what the card on the delivery said… Binky maybe or …” he went on. “Bucky?!” you exclaimed. “Yeah Bucky! That’s it. Who is that?” he asked.

You left without answered, practically running to find Bucky. He was in the middle of a conversation with your Aunt but you kindly asked if he could be excused, dragging him to the corner of the lobby to talk.

“Bucky, the flowers…I just found out. How did you know?” you wondered.

A smile broke on his face as he answered, “You told me. Well, not really.” His hand stroked the nape of his neck. “You mentioned it a while ago, long before we were together actually, but I remembered,” he said, staring at you through his dark lashes.

“I can’t believe you remembered that. Thank you Bucky for everything, for being here with me and…,” you sighed. “I love you,” you said, leaning up to press your lips to his for a tender kiss. “I love you too Y/N,” he replied.

Your parents stood outside their car, anxious to depart. “No we have to wait for Y/N and Bucky,” your Mom pointed out. “Bucky? Who the hell is Bucky? I thought Y/N was with James,” your Dad questioned.

Your arms were looped through Bucky’s as you exited the building, turning your head to the side as you watching your Mom laughing at your Dad.

“I wonder what’s so funny,” Bucky pondered.

You smiled, walking to the car together, thankful to know that Bucky is, and will always be, by your side.

Moodboard by @supersoldierslover

#Taw3kcelebration #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you

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amoristt · 6 years

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Your Reminders | Jack x Reader

Anonymous Asked: Hey I read your recent Jack fic and that sweetheart needs more well written stuff on him! So can you write a Jack x Reader fic where the reader is like super forgetful to the point of forgetting to eat and even asking questions again and again forgetting the answer and Jack just trying to help them remember stuff or leaving notes and retelling them things and making sure they are remembering to eat! That’d be amazing cuz my brain is mush and I feel like I’m annoying for forgetting love ur blog!

sure thing! this was a cute one to write i hope you like it :3c

reblogs + tags and replies will make my entire day as i put a lot of effort into this :)!

story continues beneath the read more. let me know if you can’t access it!

Sometimes it really felt like time passed differently for you.

One moment you’re relaxing in your small room, watching netflix on a laptop because it’s only 9 pm, and then suddenly it's 1 am and you’ve barely moved an inch. The glass of water you’d brought in with you remains untouched on your nightstand, the water now slightly distasteful with it’s sitting. The ending screen of your show flashed and a bittersweet feeling settled in your chest, a sad smile placed on your lips as you watched the ending credits roll one last time. You were never one who sat through openings or endings, but this time you did with solemn happiness. Finishing your favorite show was more of an accident than anything else (you promised yourself only one more episode) but you were content in having done so.

Getting up from your spot you rolled your shoulders, groaning as your bones popped almost mockingly. You felt like an elderly person as you got up to stretch, even more of your joints cracking with every flex. The laptop now sitting lonely on your bed had begun to overheat hours ago, so you took the liberty of finally putting it into rest mode and moving it onto your nightstand next to the half full glass you still hadn’t drank yet.

The bunker sounded almost eerily quiet as you padded down the hallways with cold bare feet. You wanted to replace the water in your cup with something more fresh, and your legs could definitely use the little walk. Even after living there for as long as you did, you never truly got used to how your steps seemed to echo down the long winding corridors of rooms. It almost felt… Haunting. Not ghostly, but empty. Isolated. Like a secret underground bunker.

About halfway to the kitchen, you stopped. Your hands, you realized, were empty. Of course you’d forgotten your glass of water.

With an internal huff of annoyance, you turned on your heel to start heading back toward your room, but the sound of movement down the hall stopped you. Due to the pin dropping silence hanging heavy throughout the bunker, it wasn’t hard to pick up on the obvious movement of platters and the fridge door opening and closing. Eyes narrowing, you tilted your head as you drew closer to the room.

Growing up and learning to be cautious, you approached the kitchen with almost tense muscles. Though you knew there was likely no way anyone other than those living in the bunker could enter, you felt safer in tightening your hands into fists just incase you needed to throw a quick punch at some intruder. Peeking into the kitchen from around the corner, you let out an audible sigh of relief.

Jack stood at the table, two plates sitting empty in front of him. Next to him was the bag of bread, and next to that was a jar of peanut butter and a jar of jelly. At your breath he turned, expression alarmed as though he’d been caught doing something wrong. When he saw you, he moved in front of the plates quickly and swallowed.

“Hello.” He said evenly.

You crossed your arms and leaned against the doorframe. “Hi.” There was a brief moment of silence, and during that you noticed how he didn’t meet your gaze directly. His fingers were restless, tapping against the cool metal of the table he was leaning on conveniently. He broke the silence first, voice now wavering.

“What are you doing in here?”

“To get a new drink of water,” you breathed, then your shoulders slumped. “Which I forgot in the room, again.”

“I see.”

You tried to look past him, and he moved slightly with your gaze. You hummed in your throat curiously. “What are you doing over there?”

The edges of his lips pulled down and he shrugged. “Uh- Nothing.”

“You’re almost as bad of a liar as Dean,” You began, pushing off the doorframe and coming closer to him. He stood straight up and moved with you, clearly trying to block you from what he’d been doing. You eyed him. “Jack, what are you hiding?”

“Nothing.”

You stopped moving, and right when he did too, you suddenly leapt to the side and peeked past him. He wasn’t fast enough to block you, and surprisingly, there really was nothing there. Just the ingredients of a sandwich and some plates. You laughed at his antics and took a step back.

“Ashamed of being hungry?” You asked teasingly, and he sighed in defeat.

“It was a surprise,” Jack said sullenly. He turned to face the items and began building one of the only foods he knew how to make. “I am making two, so that we can eat together.”

Your brows knit. “You were making me a surprise sandwich?”

“I am,” He answered, nodding with his back still turned toward you. “So we can eat together.”

“Yeah, I got that, but why?” You leaned against the table with one arm, watching him slather jelly over a piece of bread absently. “I mean, I’m not complaining, but what’s on your mind?”

He shrugged again. “You haven't eaten in 8 and a half hours.”

Jack’s words surprised you for the most part. You weren’t aware that he’d been keeping track of how long you were going without meals. Now that you thought about it, you actually were fairly hungry. You must not have registered it while watching your show, and the thought of getting something to eat pretty much slipped away from your whole mind. You smiled sheepishly.

“Oh, thank you. I guess I forget sometimes.”

He nodded slowly and began building the second sandwich. “You do a lot. You are human, and you should be eating more often otherwise you’ll starve.”

“Yeah, I should probably be keeping up on that stuff.” You sighed. “Why’re you making one for yourself? Didn’t you eat when Dean came home?”

“I did eat. But, I’m eating again.” He slid you your plate before beginning to close up the jars and the bread bag. When he was done, he turned to you with a satisfied grin. “So that we can eat together.”

At the gesture, warmth spread over your face. You looked down, smiling at the sandwich staring right back up at you. It did look inviting.

“Alrighty then, let’s eat.” You hummed. Taking a seat at the table, you waited for Jack to sit down across from you. “Thank you for this.”

“If you want me to, I can make you more.” He beamed, clearly excited at that thought.

“If I say no are you going to do it anyways?”

He nodded. “I will always remind you to eat.”

“Thank you, then.” You held the sandwich in your hands and watched as he did the same. “Let’s do this more often.”

As the two of you ate together in comfortable silence, the clock reading well after 1 am, you felt content and happy in your spot. It was a soft moment, the kind where you hoped it would last forever. Something about him going out of his way to make sure you were healthy and eating… It made you warm up and feel all sorts of giddy inside. You wished you could do the same for him, but you weren’t sure he even needed to eat in the first place.

Unfortunately the moment came to a close faster than you’d have liked. You knew you needed sleep so you begrudgingly told him goodnight and washed the plates off, taking a moment to hug and thank him before padding down the hallway. Though your head focused on sleep, your heart was still sitting back at that table with Jack, happy as ever.

Walking into your room, you flopped down on your bed and huffed with your face buried in the pillows. You wished you were like an angel, uneeding of sleep or most basic self care, but sadly you were very much human, and a human that needed rest on top of that. Luckily for you, you didn’t have to sit long before you pretty much passed out in your spot.

The next morning you woke up feeling much better. If your room had a window, you knew it would be the kind of morning where the sun would leak in through the glass and warm your skin. As you sat up and stretched, something in the corner of your eye caught your attention. Next to your laptop, was a glass of water. It was the same glass from last night, but there was something planted beneath it that had you tilting your head.

You plucked the small piece of paper settled under the cup, and read the pencil message crawled on quickly.

To: ___. I refilled your water for you, please drink it! From: Jack.

Without a second thought, you drank the contents and set it down with a satisfied huff.

It was definitely going to be a good morning.

#spn #supernatural #jack kline #jack nephilim #imagine #scenario #fanfic #jack x reader #imaginefictionals

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adamrevi3ws · 4 years

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The Last of Us Part II

After playing it back to back through five short days, I finally beat The Last of Us Part II, outpacing the spoilers! It’s an emotionally exhausting, extremely dark, yet weirdly fun and gorgeous game, serving as an utterly breathtaking last hurrah of the PS4’s extremely strong output of console exclusives.

Navigating your way through a revenge plot in a kill-or-be killed post-apocalyptic environment, Naughty Dog has yet again delivered one of the most thrilling games I’ve played in a while. The gunfights against a number of human factions that make up a bunch of the gameplay are quite challenging, but in a way that’s quite fun. One of the main sources behind its thrills and challenges in these shootouts are your lack of resources, barely having enough bullets and health kits to survive, but this in turn forces you to think outside of the box. Actually succeeding in your efforts (or at least surviving long enough to make it to one of the game’s very generous autosave checkpoints) gives you a fantastic rush. It’s ironic, because many of the reviews emphasized how the game’s gameplay highly demonstrates its message the horrible consequences of a kill or be kill world and the fragility if human life, but methodically killing people in it is just...so enjoyable? While the shootouts get a lot less fun and more intense the closer, they are to darker plot moments, the enjoyment I’ve gotten in brutal gunplay segments make me concerned I might be a sociopath. I really don’t remember enjoying the last game this much.

The other half of a lot of the game’s combat is against the ‘infected,’ aka zombies. While they can be impressively scary, especially in some sequences in the game’s second half. However, a good amount of these are much less scary and just extremely frustrating. While your lack of in-game resources adds thrills to combat against human enemies, the combination of limited bullets and innumerable enemies (many of which can instantly kill you by getting within a meter of the player character) makes these levels some of the least enjoyable parts of the game. My roommate can definitely confirm several movements of me going nuclear at my TV.

My last word on this game’s mechanics and gameplay is that, for better or for worse, it’s still very much a Naughty Dog game. Although I honestly thought it’d transcend a lot of tropes that its developer puts in games due to its more distinct nature, it still retains a lot of moments you’d see in an Uncharted game, ranging from fun mini-twists where your environment around you starts breaking down, to the millions of times your characters run into a blocked entrance and have to do an overlong side task to unlock it. The standard ““UwU” looks like this door is locked I guess you’ll have to go through the much longer way” segments even happen right before and after major emotional plot moments, but to be honest, it isn’t that big of a deal in an extremely cinematic game.

I’m sure the of fans of the game and its predecessor reading this are wondering what I think of its controversial plot, and let me say, it’s rough, buddy. The game’s plot is divisive to say the least, but it almost definitely lived up to the hype. The story of Ellie, its main character continues a highly detailed and fascinating arc stemming from lingering plot threads from the first game, and despite a major change in the story’s direction halfway through, it successfully delivers a sad, grim, yet compelling product. As I’ve said before, this game’s plot is a lot to handle. One of my friends described it as “trauma porn” to some extent, and I don’t think he’s wrong. I think the first game’s story moments were a lot more balanced, feeling pretty bittersweet with a believable twist ending, while this one’s is just….bitter, and lest I say for the millionth time, so damn sad. That being said, the actual content of the plot highly outshines whatever superficial concern I have about tonal balance. It’s an impressive exercise in empathy and moral greyness, forcing you to explore a world where such good people are capable of such evil actions, often in each other’s eyes. As you get more and more attached to its characters (often thanks to ridiculously believable writing and great motion capture acting) the more heartbreaking it gets, adding to the game’s impressive storm of melancholy. I think my last observation on the plot is that like Red Dead Redemption 2, where its proper ending is far too unnecessarily drawn out after an intense climax that could’ve been a good ending on its own, but like RDR2, the ‘final battle’ is satisfying enough and true to the game that it just works. The Last of Us Part II is the first game in a while where I’ve yelled at the screen just as much during the cutscenes as I have during gameplay.

The last aspect of this game I’d like to touch upon is how utterly gorgeous it is. It’s like they saw how pretty Red Dead Redemption 2 was, and said “ok, bet.” The facial animations are so weirdly accurate and detailed that in a lot of cutscenes it just looks like a live action movie rather than a computer-generated environment. There are so many smooth and polished details in this game, such as split-second animations in gameplay, believable enemy dialogue made for you to slightly emphasize with the people you’re shooting at, extreme (yet not over the top) gore when struggling to kill (and getting brutally killed by) enemies, and the most minor character quirks to make them feel believable and “real”. It’s not nearly as seamless of a game as it felt from the E3 trailer, but in an era of hilariously unfinished triple A games, a high is bar knocked out of the park.

The Last of Us Part II is an achievement in video games, whether that be through its technical aspects or its sledgehammerlike narrative and storytelling As a sequel, it, feels pretty similar to play compared the first game, but the more complex and radically different plot, setting, and themes make it a unique and extremely worthy entry to the series, which can fee like a lost art in video games these days. (looking at you Assassin’s Creed and Dishonored 2). I give it a 9/10.

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savegraduation · 4 years

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John Hensle, 1993-2016

It was three years ago today that my friend and fellow NYRAnian John Hensle passed away.

I first met John in 2010 when he was 16. I had finished the first draft of my libretto for The Bittersweet Generation (then called Angst). For those who haven't read my previous posts wherein I reference it, The Bittersweet Generation is a rock musical I'm writing that tells the story of a year in the life of six teens (Melanie Hayworth, Bryce Schlitter, Paul Moreno, Trina Evangelisti, Alan Isaacs, and Sarah Chiang) in the fictional Sun Belt suburb of Armando, starting in the summer of 2007 just before school begins, and ending with the alternative prom in 2008. They experience their struggles with youth rights issues. Their high school, Dulcevida High, has an assistant-principal named Mr. Pittman who lectures students about how they "must obey the rules", despite being very underhanded himself, a social conformist math teacher named Mrs. Dahlgren, and a believe-the-worst-stereotypes-about-Millennials AP Bio teacher named Mr. Orozco, among other faculty. One student is even framed for doing graffiti in the boys' restroom by Mr. Pittman as revenge for being intransigent when his teacher and assistant-principal expect him to take his hat off. It is highly recommended reading. (Oh, and the songs are great too.)

I had the libretto and lyrics, but wanted someone to set my lyrics to music. John, who was posting under the screenname Badlands1790, contacted me by PM on the NYRA Internet forum, telling me he was willing to collaborate on my rock musical. He said he played guitar and had had writer's block "for the longest time". He put up a YouTube video for our song "Students of the World, Unite!", which he later took down. "Students of the World, Unite!", the song sung at the climax of the story, is a pop-punky rocking tune that sounds something like Green Day, the Offspring, or Lit. John's melisma on such lines as "Now we form a wall that is gia-ant" is superb.

I researched John Hensle's activities with NYRA and learned that John had coauthored a booklet to help youth with students' rights issues with a number of other NYRAnians. I maintained an interest in John's posts on the NYRA board.

After a few Facebook conversations with John, I discovered John and I had many things in common. I discovered, for instance, that we were both youth rights supporters and both rocked out. We were both fascinated with drugs. We also share our dislike for the way the holidays are hyped and our deist religious views. There are some differences, though. For example, John is an INTP per the Myers-Briggs taxonomy of personality, while I'm an ENFP. And John was an avid cyclist, whereas hearing or reading the word "bxke" makes me have to pick my navel due to my logaesthesia (it feels as if a jagged piece of metal is caught in my navel).

Shortly after we met, I discussed my logaesthesia with John. He told me he had been diagnosed with Asperger's when he was 2 years old, but called for an end to all the IEP's in the eighth grade after he stopped meeting the diagnostic criteria. He had his diagnosis revoked, and said it was the only time a student with a diagnosis of an autism spectrum disorder had been undiagnosed and taken out of special ed in his school district.

Once I was discussing the cynicism that led many people to McCarthyesquely accuse youth rights supporters of being pedophiles, and commented that if a state senator or assemblyperson wants to lower her or his state's age of consent from 18 to 16, someone in the audience is sure to claim that that politician really wants to touch 7-year-olds' junk. John replied: "Yeah, I wish the general public could have intellectual debates about actually understanding articulate points, instead of reacting to a word or two and painting a negative stereotype. The world would be a lot better of a place if we could do that." That has become one of my favorite John Hensle quotes of all time!

Another time John said: "Youth is largely a relative construct, I would agree . . . but it's a matter of society seeing potential in youth. Society does not see youth as a period immediately useful to it so it marginalizes it and doesn't give young people meaningful opportunities."

When I asked John about his religion, John said: "I have come to believe in destiny and it's a great way to live life. You can't prove it either way, so you might as well believe what makes you happiest is true."

Sometimes when I created art, I'd listen to John Hensle's masterpiece with Secret Lands, "Voyager Golden Record". It is still my favorite Secret Lands song, as it makes me think of creating alien conlangs!

John hoped to meet me in person when he was coming over to the West Coast, but that never materialized. John began smoking weed and attending Buddhist meditation sessions and later Bahá'í temples in college. As his college years progressed, John became deeply into weed and later psychedelics. He once rode his car into the wilderness under the influence of drugs. He became a Shia LaBeouf fan and suggested I try a guided psychedelic experience to help me with my logaesthesia. In 2015, John was diagnosed with schizophrenia. While he had been a down-to-earth, even cynical realist when I met him -- he reminded me of Howe & Strauss' description of the Nomad archetype -- his drug-induced schizophrenia made John start to sound like what Howe & Strauss would call a Prophet instead. All this for a Millennial born in 1993. (Although, to be fair, few Millennials I know fit the dutiful authoritarian description of the Straussian generational theory.) At the end of 2015, he closed down his Facebook account. I emailed him, and he replied that there were too many people he didn't care about following him on Facebook (but that I wasn't one of said people). In May of 2016, his Facebook account was reactivated. I last spoke with John on October 22. We never met in person.

In mid-December of 2016, I was shattered when I went to John's Facebook wall and saw messages about how he had passed away. At first I was just numb -- in shock -- but then I lay down on my bed and started to feel ill. I knew John was into psychedelics, so at first I suspected it was a drug overdose, but then I read the obituary that said he "passed away on Dec. 5, 2016, in his sleep". At first I was just in shock -- stunned. Then I lay on my bed and felt really bad.

When I heard John had passed away, I thought about the things Landau & Hensle will never be able to do together, like accept music awards. I read the stale obituary, which didn't do justice to this amazing friend with an amazing and unconventional mind. I want to meet John again, but I don't know when or under what circumstances it's going to be. I want to share so many new songs with him, but I don't know whether he's hearing them as I play.

Until December of 2016, my circle of friends didn't overlap much with John's circle of friends. To the people in my life, John was just "the boy who's writing the music for James' play". And to John's Facebook friends, I was just "the boy who's writing a rock musical with John". But after John passed away, I've had his friends reach out to me.

I wrote John Hensle's mother on Facebook on January 3. For almost 5 months, she didn't even read my IM. Then, on June 2, she read my IM and friended me. I later learned that John was hit by an 18-wheeler while riding his bicycle in Terre Haute (where he’s from) in November. He had his tibia replaced with a rod, and John said, "Thank you all. I hope I didn't bum out your day too much." as he was lifted into the ambulance. On December 5, John finally passed away. The official cause of death was given as cardiac arrhythmia.

John jammed with Daniel Mutchler in the John Hensle & Daniel Mutchler Unnamed Project. He also did a number of songs on a project called Secret Lands, which are up at Soundcloud. Secret Lands released such songs as "Trap", "Ebbinghaus", "Floating" (about his transmale ex-girlfriend), and "The Final Girl Lives On", which can be read at the /secretlands directory on Soundcloud. I enjoyed all the times I spent songwriting with John and remember the dreams we share to have our music become part of the national repertoire.

I never met John in person, even though we discussed meeting up on many occasions. Our friendship was an online friendship, and yet it was much more than another online friendship. We were like soulmates. We were artistic partners. I was his brother from another mother.

After Avatar composer James Horner was killed in a plane crash, someone wrote, "I hope, you are somewhere, you would want to be after the death". This is the best wish John can receive. I, too, hope John went where he wanted to go, instead of the popularized version of the Christian Heaven where angels play harps and sit on clouds all day, doing notiing but singing songs that never run out of things to say about the glory of God and how he has saved us all from our sins.

And that song, "Students of the World, Unite!"? A few days after John passed away, I searched for it in my email box at Yahoo, and finally found a demo version of John singing the first verse, with his guitar, on video. You may email me at [email protected] if you'd like a copy.

In commemoration of John today, I've been listening to his favorite artists on my iPod -- the ones I also have (Muse, Primitive Radio Gods, the Sundays, Third Eye Blind).

John has always had the view towards life and death that Patrick Henry had:"Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God! I know not what course others may take; but as for me, give me liberty or give me death!" He believes life is not worth living if you can't enjoy it, which is a very youth rights attitude. It's ageists who believe in enforcing punitive laws like curfews and MIP's that punish teens "in order to protect them from their own stupidity". His views on life and death are attested to in his song Six Feet Below.

Although I'm sad my friend passed away three years ago today, I hold onto my conviction that it would have been unspeakably wrong to arrest him for smoking weed and trying hallucinogens in college, while his brain was supposedly still developing according to the "25" myth. (Technically, your brain is still developing during the college years, but it turns out this is a canard, as science has now discovered that the brain continues to develop and change all throughout a person's life. It's like saying a 50-year-old shouldn't have any legal rights because her brain is "not finished changing".) It was John's choice, and John's having the freedom to choose drugs without being arrested or jailed for it was so much more important than whether John had a capacity to make what social-conservative arbiters would judge as "good" decisions.

Here's to John Hensle, youth-rightser extraordinaire. You don't look a day over 23. (OK, maybe 5 months over 23.)

R.I.P. John Alfred Hensle, July 5, 1993 - December 5, 2016

#john hensle #the bittersweet generation #youth rights activists #autonomy #choice

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