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secretshinigami · 4 years ago

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Author: @kiranatrix For: @baranedizille Pairings/Characters: Light Yagami, L Lawliet, Ryuk, Sayu Yagami, Sachiko Yagami, Socihiro Yagami // Lawlight if you squint, or not Rating/Warnings: Gen // no warnings Prompt: To-Oh timeline. L visits the Yagamis to work on a project with Light, L has a dinner with Light’s family and it’s awkward. And ofc, Ryuk is also there commenting the situation. Author’s notes: I hope you enjoy the story! This occurs on the evening of April 11 while Light and L are both at To-Oh. Soichiro has been resting at home following his heart attack on April 7 (the day of Light and L’s tennis match). The Japanese legend mentioned in the fic (The Fire Quest) is a real one. Sayu gets it mostly correct, but the traditional version in English is here: https://www.worldoftales.com/Asian_folktales/Japanese_folktale_49.html.

—–

Hideki Ryuga– L –was coming over tonight and Light hardly knew how to handle it. L, with his too-long fingers and his too-intense stare, his perfectly enunciated Japanese and teeth unrealistically white for an all-sugar diet, was coming to Light’s house for dinner and, purportedly, to study.

It was a lie, but that was their preferred currency when shifting closer. Stepping together to a stage, a classroom, a tennis court, a cafe– each time the way was paved with lies, petals they threw at the other’s feet and pretended not to notice. It made getting to the destination sweeter when the end was had only ever been death for one or the other. And still, they couldn’t stop. Light was so glad L hadn’t stopped.

L would be arriving any moment but Light couldn’t help but take out his Death Note from its hiding place, just to touch the pebbly leather of his ace in this game. The Death Note was no proper diary but the handwriting in it betrayed plenty about the emotional state and thoughts of its owner these past months. There was the first casually-scrawled name, jotted off like the joke Light believed it to be. Kurou Otoharada. A long, jagged pen mark bled across the rest of the page, a horizon of surprise when that first death dawned. The next name had been carefully written several times with the spelling slightly shifted, the last instances hurried and impatient. There was an exclamation point by the third experiment, exactly 40 seconds from when he’d inked the right combination. Takuo Shibuimaru. It had probably been added in shock, but Light chose to remember a different reason. I got it right, I won.

The names filling the following pages were unremarkable except that they looked exactly like the handwriting on Light’s homework. Studious, easy, and correct without the requirement of much thought. This was a different kind of work, performed as professionally as an accountant. A roster of the worst murderers of the world, the lowest hanging fruit, and Light plucked them nightly when he wasn’t sure how many more nights he’d have. Surely there had to be some price for what he was doing? Aren’t you going to take my soul? Ryuk laughed at him, was impressed by him, and that was a good sign for a shinigami; he would take something but not for a while.

It wasn’t until about ten pages in that things got telling again. A name written diagonally, frantically, and taking up nearly an entire page– Lind L. Tailor. Light’s adrenaline and fury and glee stained the paper as much as the ink had, from a pen that he didn’t use often and had grabbed as quickly as possible during L’s broadcast. Everything about this name was different, just as L was different from all those who had come before. This name was the hook that pulled Kira out of the shadows and thrust L into the light, a breadcrumb for both of them to devour and hunger for more.

This elaborate name was immediately replaced in Light’s mind by a single stark gothic letter, so much so that even when he looked back on that day, he didn’t recall a suited nobody slumped over a desk and dragged away on-camera. He only recalled ‘come find me, come find me, kill me if you can.’ Light was so accustomed to everything and everyone being boring and easy, to nothing getting to him. L’s challenge had wormed into his mind and he felt alive for the first time in his life.

Perhaps the smart thing to do would have been to go silent a while, wait it out until the heat died down and he could find out more about L and his methods. Light had tipped his hand a little but not enough to give the game away, only to set it in motion. Yes, he probably should have played it safe. But he couldn’t stop and he couldn’t help but taunt L further, just to keep chasing that new and intensifying feeling of being alive. The danger was part of their dance, and Light wanted to play with L for as long as possible before Kira killed him.

Lind L. Tailor. The ‘L’ had been darkly underlined, reminding Light of the dark half-moons shadowing the eyes of the real man when Light finally met him. The slant of Light’s scrawl, like the hunch of L’s back. The letter ugly and infuriating and fascinating and shouting at him from the page, drawing his finger to trace over it…

Light pulled his finger back like he’d been burned when he heard his mother calling up to him, heartbeat thudding as he bit his lip and grinned. He quickly snapped his Death Note shut and carefully placed it back in his rigged desk drawer. He’s here.

“Light! Sayu!” Sachiko leaned to call up the stairs from where she was washing her hands in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on their meal. “Would one of you get the door, please?”

She gave Soichiro a stern look as he shifted on the couch. “Not you, Soichi. If you insist on going back to work tomorrow I want you resting tonight.” Her husband had only come home from the hospital a few days ago after his stress-related heart attack and she was anxious about letting him go right back.

“Coming!” Light bustled out of his bedroom as the doorbell chimed again, nearly barreling into Sayu. “Whoa!” He gripped her shoulders to steady himself, smiling and flustered. “Don’t worry about it, Sayu. I’ll get it.”

“Oooo, who’s coming over tonight?” Sayu grinned up at her brother, noticing a rare faint blush on his cheeks. “You look so nervous! Is it a girlfriend?”

Ryuk floated through Light’s bedroom wall, chuckling at the insinuation. “Pfft, not exactly.” It hadn’t escaped Ryuk’s notice that Light had taken even more care than usual with his appearance tonight and that he’d been mulling over the Death Note in a rather odd way. “Ya do look a little flushed, though. Hyuk hyuk…”

“No.” Light rolled his eyes as he made his way downstairs, ignoring both his sister and the shinigami. Do I really look nervous? He smoothed his features and said, “It’s just Hideki Ryuga from Ecology class. We have a project to work on tonight.” His father was the only other person who knew who Ryuga really was. L, the infuriating detective spying on him at To-Oh. Ryuk knew even more than that; namely, that Light was the very person L was looking for, but a shinigami was the best secret-keeper.

“HIDEKI RYUGA?! Light! THE Hideki Ryuga?!” Sayu bounded down the stairs excitedly after Light, squealing with delight and clutching her hands over her heart. “I want to meet him, too! I’m his biggest fan! I know a lot about ecology and maybe I can help you–”

“Shhh! Sayu, please.” Light shot Sayu a good-natured warning look as he opened the door then forced himself to smile cordially at L. “Hi, Ryuga.” He heard a soft noise of disappointment from Sayu as well as peals of shinigami laughter. It would have been Light’s reaction if the movie star had actually been there instead of his rival.

“Hello, Light-kun. Good to see you again.” L was wearing his usual attire, a white long-sleeved shirt and baggy jeans, and he had a backpack slung over one hunched shoulder. He’d made a half-hearted attempt to brush his hair tonight, but the effort had been rewarded with a fluffy black halo that was even more wild-looking than his usual spikey bed-head.

“I see you managed to find the house.” There was a faint note of sarcasm in Light’s voice. As if L hadn’t gathered all the information he could about Light, illegally, invasively, or otherwise.

A small, wry smile tugged at L’s lips and he answered, deadpan, “Yes, seeing that I am here, I apparently managed just fine. Are you impressed?”

“Incredibly. Please come in.” Smartass. Light held the door open for L to enter and gestured to Sayu just behind him. “This is my sister, Sayu.”

Sayu had been peeking around Light, eyes wide with curiosity about the odd-looking person who was most definitely not the idol she’d been hoping for. She’d met lots of Light’s friends over the years but no one quite like this. “Wow…I’ve never seen anyone’s hair do that before. Where are you from? Are you older than Light? How does-”

“Sayu!” Sachiko rubbed her hands on her apron and sighed in fond exasperation. “Hideki-san, please forgive my child’s rudeness. She’s just excited to meet Light’s best friend at school.”

Best friend? L’s eyes cut to Light, who immediately looked away. It amused L to hear their lies mirrored by other people.

Sachiko bowed politely and gave him a warm smile. “You are very welcome in our home. I’ll be serving dinner in a few moments.” She arched a brow at Sayu, “Please go set the table, Sayu.”

L gladly toed out of his worn sneakers, padding along barefoot behind Light through the foyer and into the living room. “Your home is very cozy, Light-kun.”

Ryuk snorted, “Like he hasn’t already seen every inch of it on camera.”

Exactly. Light clenched his hand in his pocket but didn’t let his expression falter. “Dad, Hideki Ryuga is here for dinner. We have a project to work on tonight.”

Soichiro looked up from the newspaper he’d been reading on the couch and gave L a polite nod. “Forgive me for not getting up, Hideki-san, I’ve been confined to the couch until dinner on my wife’s orders.” It was slightly uncomfortable to have L here in his home given that he knew his son was under some suspicion. Soichiro dismissed those suspicions out of hand, but he dreaded that L might turn his searchlights on Light during family dinner.

“Please call me Ryuga.” L gave Light a crooked grin. “That’s what my friends call me.”

Sayu skipped into the living room with a fist full of chopsticks. “Mom says you can go ahead and sit down. It’s yakisoba tonight!” She grabbed the guest’s arm and dragged him over to the table. “You can sit beside Light, Ryuga.”

L blushed faintly but let himself be pulled along. “Ah…alright.” It was strange to realize that he’d never had a ‘real’ family dinner inside someone’s home before. Of course, he’d never had a family or friends, so perhaps not so surprising. He dropped his backpack to the floor and climbed into the seat beside Light, crouching as he usually did.

Light and Soichiro didn’t bat an eye at that but Sayu couldn’t help but gape at him. “Isn’t that an uncomfortable way to sit? My legs would fall asleep!”

“Sayu.” Soichiro sat down at the place opposite Light. “Ryuga is our guest, and he’s welcome to sit how he pleases.” He knew from experience that whether L, Ryuzaki, or Ryuga, the peculiar man would do things his own way.

Sachiko came in a moment later with the dishes for dinner, including yakisoba, miso soup, rice, and pickles. “Please help yourselves. We’re not very formal around here, Ryuga.”

Ryuk floated behind Light, one clawed hand curled around the back of the human’s chair. “Dunno why you humans go to so much trouble when ya could just have apples.”

“Hmm.” L peered at the various options, one finger perched on his lip. “I’ve never had yakisoba before. I admit I don’t eat many noodle dishes.” He’d brought some candy bars and a slice of cake in his backpack in case he didn’t like the food. Wammy had told him to at least wait until he was up in Light’s room studying to eat it, though. Apparently it was rude not to at least try the meal (although he still wasn’t sure if he cared).

“I bet you’d like it.” Light served L some noodles and then put some on his own plate. He whispered to L, “Don’t be difficult. It’s sweet.” He wasn’t about to tell L that he’d suggested yakisoba to his mother tonight for that very reason, or that there were vegetables hiding in it. Why in the hell do I care about pleasing him?

“Hmm.” L tentatively picked up his chopsticks and poked at the noodles, looking between them and Light. “Is it spicy?” It was also becoming clear that he’d never used chopsticks before and they kept slipping from his hand. Why hadn’t he asked Wammy to show him how to use them?

“No, it’s not–here, you’re not holding them right.” Light set his own chopsticks down and took L’s hand, gently molding the fingers into the right position to hold the utensils. He’d done the same thing for Sayu when she was small and learning, so the offer felt automatic. It wasn’t until he looked up and saw L staring at him that he felt self-conscious and pulled away. The gesture had felt too genuine and that made it suspicious. “Well, that’s how to do it. I know you’re a quick learner and will pick it up.”

L looked down and murmured, “Was that a pun, Light-kun?” He concentrated and managed to pinch a bite of yakisoba, quickly shoveling it into his mouth before it fell off. “…mmm!” He didn’t bother to completely swallow the mouthful before saying, “It is sweet. And quite good.” He picked up another bite with slightly more dexterity. “I like it.” Perhaps the cake in his bag could just be for dessert.

Light smiled across the table. “It really is good, Mom, thank you.”

“Oh, you’re always welcome.” Sachiko beamed happily as L quickly devoured his noodles and took another helping.

Soichiro relaxed a little, seeing as things were going more smoothly than he’d expected. “So, boys, what is your project about?”

“It’s for Ecology. We have to collect an insect and bring it to class tomorrow since the lecture is on local entomology.” Light took a sip of tea to hide his amused smile; L was handling the chopsticks perfectly now. Of course he’d be good at that, too.

“Eww.” Ryuk scrunched up his nose, he didn’t much like bugs and creepy-crawly things. “Hope it won’t be flappin’ in a box all night cause that would creep me out.”

“Not just on local entomology, Light-kun.” L chewed a few times, loudly, and swallowed his mouthful. “It’s also on insect phototaxis.”

Sayu, tilted her head and asked, “What’s that?”

L suddenly wished he hadn’t spoken up at all. “Well….” He looked down at his meal, stabbing at the noodles. “…an attraction to light. Some insects, like moths, use the moon to navigate and become confused by artificial light. That’s why they flap around outdoor lightbulbs at night.”

“Oh! Like the Fire Quest!” Sayu nodded sagely. “I know all about that.” When Ryuga just looked at her blankly, she added, “You haven’t heard that story? It’s a famous Japanese legend!”

Soichiro sighed, “I’m sure Ryuga doesn’t–”

“I have not heard it.” L set his chopsticks down and leaned forward in his crouch, hands on his knees as he stared at Sayu. “Please tell me the legend.”

“Sure! See, Light, I told you I could help with your project.”

Light grinned and laughed softly. “Just tell the story, Sayu.” Japanese folktales weren’t going to help them but he was happy to indulge his little sister.

“I’m getting to it!” Sayu sat up straight in her chair, trying to look and sound more official. “There was a queen of the fireflies who lived in a lotus blossom in the middle of a peaceful pond. She was so beautiful that all the moths, dragonflies, and other bugs who lived around the pond were constantly bothering her, begging to marry her. But she didn’t want any of them so it was very annoying.”

L nodded seriously. “Yes, I can see why that would present a problem. Did she tell them all to go away?”

“Oh, she tried! But they wouldn’t listen and there got to be so many bugs on her lotus blossom she was afraid it was going to sink. Completely messing up the whole peaceful pond aesthetic.”

Light snickered and dropped his chin into his hand, smiling at Sayu. “I don’t remember that little detail from the story.”

“Shhh!” Sayu stuck out her tongue at Light and continued. “Anyway, she thought up a way to get rid of them all. She told them that since she was a firefly, she could only marry the bug that brought fire back to her. Whatever bug did that was worthy to be with her forever.”

L gave her a lop-sided smile. “I can’t imagine that turned out well for the insect suitors.”

“Nope! But they couldn’t help themselves. They fluttered and flew around candles, torches, bonfires, all trying to catch the fire that the queen had told them to find but every one of them burned up instead. Nobody completed the Fire Quest and the firefly queen and her pond were left in peace.” Sayu smiled proudly. “The end.”

Ryuk had been hanging on Sayu’s every word, half-sitting on the table. “Hahaha! What a great queen!” He hadn’t been aware that fireflies were so sneaky but there was still a lot about the human world he didn’t know. “Now I wanna see a firefly!”

Light hummed thoughtfully, recalling the legend from his own childhood. Sayu had embellished a bit but it was mostly accurate. “Serves the suitors right, I suppose. They should have listened when the queen told them to go away.”

“The queen sent them on a quest she knew would result in their deaths.” L turned to look at Light, a small smirk on his lips. “Their annoyance hardly necessitates murder, Light-kun.”

“Murder?” Light laughed in a charming way but there was shrewd interest in his eyes. “She didn’t tell them to burn themselves up. They should have known better.” They couldn’t help themselves. Just like we can’t. “Anyway, it’s just a silly legend.”

Soichiro quickly changed the subject.

—-

After dinner, Light showed L up to his bedroom where they could catch an insect from his balcony. His mother had given them a large glass jar and he set it down on his desk, thrilling at having L so close to his secrets. “There’s a bright light on the balcony but it might take a few moments to attract anything.” He switched on the light, dimming the desk lamp so they could see outside better. He leaned against the glass door, watching L mentally cataloging the contents of his room. “I was surprised when you asked me to help you with this project, Ryuga. It’s not very difficult to catch your own bug.” I know you just wanted to see my room for yourself.

“I have never done it before.” L crouched in Light’s desk chair, opening up his backpack and taking out the slice of cake he’d stowed inside. Tonight had been full of firsts for him– chopsticks, yakisoba, legends, bugs. “I didn’t want to kill it since we’re supposed to bring it in alive.” He forked a piece of the strawberry cake, staring at Light while he ate it. Mouth full, he grinned and said, “Think we’ll catch a firefly?”

Light laughed softly and shook his head. “Not really the right time of year for them. They come out in the summer.” He gazed out the glass door, noticing a few flies and mosquitos starting to circle around the caged bulb. “Sometimes we see them in our backyard. Sayu and I would catch them when we were kids.”

“Pity. After hearing your sister’s story, I wanted to see one.” L ate the last bite of cake, placing the empty plastic box in Light’s trashcan (after glancing to see what else was in there).

Light asked over his shoulder quietly, “Don’t they have fireflies in England?”

L smiled slyly, getting up to stand beside Light at the glass door. He recognized the bait and only gave the line a tug. “They do, but doesn’t mean I was there to see them.” In truth, he’d been too wrapped up in his cases to venture outside much as a child. Such single-minded focus had benefitted him in some ways and set him apart from a normal childhood in others. “Perhaps Light-kun will invite me back in the summertime.”

“Of course, Ryuga.” Light smiled at him, catching his reflection in the glass. How long would their game go on? Into the summer, the fall? What season would see it end?

“Look.” L tapped the glass just over Light’s reflection, but what he was pointing to was on the other side. A large green-winged luna moth had landed on the cage surrounding the light bulb and was lazily flapping its wings and warming itself. “The first suitor has arrived.”

“Still haven’t learned the ‘murderous’ queen’s lesson.” Light laughed and grabbed the jar off his desk. “Lucky for them we have electric lights and not fire.” He unscrewed the top and handed the jar to L. “Cmon, you do it.”

L looked down at the jar as if it were Kira’s power instead just an old pickle jar. “The jar is too small.” He shifted to the other foot. “I’ll crush it.”

“No, I think it’s plenty big. We can put it in a shoebox after we catch it, anyway.” Light smirked at him. “You’re just making excuses. Or maybe you really can’t do it?” He knew L wouldn’t turn down a direct challenge.

“Alright.” L sighed and took the jar, frowning as he plotted his approach. Sliding the door open carefully so not to startle it, he crept forward very slowly until he was right beside it. Turning back to Light, he whispered, “Now what?”

“Just scoop it up in the jar. Try not to touch its wings, though.” Light watched as L brought the jar up to the luna moth, delicately prodding to encourage it to go into the jar by itself. Amazingly, it worked, and the moth calmly settled into the bottom of the jar.

“Light-kun!” L hurried back inside Light’s room, smiling broadly down at his captive. It looked like a miniature angel with its gracefully tapered wings and fluffy golden antennae. “It was easy after all.”

“Everything’s easy for you, isn’t it?” I know the feeling. Light screwed the top onto the jar, poking generous air holes in the lid with a pair of scissors. He held it up for both of them to see, L leaning in closely, chewing his thumb at the undamaged and placid moth. “It’s a nice catch, too. I bet no one else will bring in anything this big.”

L didn’t answer him for a long moment, just stared at the moth and the slow up-down, up-down of its wings. “What do you think would have happened if one of the suitors brought fire back?”

Light blinked. “Huh?”

“In Sayu’s legend. What might have happened if one of the suitors completed the Fire Quest and brought back fire to the queen?”

“I…I don’t know. I guess she would have burned up too if one managed to make it back to her. Would have been suicide.” Light gave L a puzzled look. “That’s impossible though. It never would have made it.”

“It might have.” L took the jar, setting it on Light’s desk and turning his full attention to his human specimen again. His hand fluttered from his mouth in a parody of a moth or a name written diagonally, frantically, and taking up nearly an entire page. “If he was a firefly, too.”

Light’s gaze followed L’s hand, those too-thin fingers that had gently ushered the moth to its prison. “So he would trick the queen and allow all the other suitors to get burned up instead of warning them?” He laughed a rare, genuine laugh. “Wouldn’t that make him as bad of a terrible, unfeeling ‘murderer’ as the queen?”

“It’s just a silly legend, Light-kun.” L stuck his hands in his pockets, giving Light a cryptic smile. “But he’d win, wouldn’t he?”

#fanfiction #submission #death note #Light Yagami #soichiro yagami #Sayu Yagami #Sachiko Yagami #l lawliet #l #lawlight #kiranatrix #baranedizille #Mello's Birthday Mayhem 2020

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icefire149 · 4 years ago

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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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canyouhearthevoices · 3 years ago

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‘The Real’ Lyric Analysis

Kingdom stage, for the final round in which contestant groups released original songs.

And if you thought that the brighter concept and focus on being their epic selves rather than on winning and remembering the past meant that this wasn’t part of the storyline... well, jokes on you I guess.

Of course it’s part of the storyline, it’s ATEEZ.

The song connects heavily (lyrically, concept-wise, etc), with ‘THANXX’, ‘Awakening of Summer’, and, to a lesser extent, ‘Fireworks’. It seemed to continue their journey from ‘Awakening of Summer’, as they have now overthrown the dystopian government, and music and dance reigns in the streets (As Halateez believe it should). However, it also seems earlier in the storyline than ‘INCEPTION’, as no major conflict between known groups has occurred yet. For that reason, on my playlist, it is between ‘Awakening of Summer’ and ‘INCEPTION’.

As with most of the Halateez songs, there doesn’t seem to be any significance to who sings which line, other than noticing that Mingi and Hongjoong have very villainous things to say (I don’t think this has much significance to the storyline, since Wooyoung or Yunho are much more likely to be the traitor and therefore ACTUALLY villainous, it’s probably just because they are rappers and this is a good time to shove the lyrical aesthetics into the songs). And, of course, the motifs show up most in their parts. Similarly, although there are some odd lyrics (Especially questionable grammar in the English ones), there don’t seem to be too many significant differences in translation for certain lines.

I analysed these lyrics on paper, so please ignore the weird lighting and how my handwriting has become worse, etc. Also, to note; I don’t have a red highlighter, so I have replaced it with pink here. I also spilt tea on it, sorry about that.

I also think that the coded lyrics I used were somewhat incorrect, so please forgive me if I have the wrong member written down for a particular line. It’s mostly correct.

Full lyric analysis below the line.

The Real

The line ‘this bastard, this bastard’ has also been translated as ‘this young man, go young man’, which has basically the same meaning. Also ‘This is the coolest thing’ has been translated as ‘this is what they call style’, which I think suits Halateez more since it fits their attitude of being confident in themselves and their ‘coolness’.

The line ‘Hmm right right that’s truly ugly’ has also been translated to ‘All right stop now, your style, aigoo, doesn't have anything to it.’ I really like both versions, and they both make sense + suit the Halateez attitude.

The line ‘protecting my faith’ can also be translated as ‘keeping my convictions’ and ‘serving anyone with carefulness’ has also been translated as ‘taking care of anyone’. I think that ‘keeping my convictions’ suits Halateez best, but with the second pair, I have no preference.

Here, the line ‘the truth is’ is also translated as ‘the real thing is’, which is just a nicer translation because it suits the song and the title more.

Hongjoong’s big section here is also translated as; ‘the more you bend, the less you blow, targets will increase over time’. Not sure what this is about. Perhaps just that Halateez’s targets to gain fans, recognition, etc, increases over time as they grow.

Conclusions

It’s pretty cool. It’s pretty Halateez. Honestly, there’s surprisingly little to say. If you want a summary, read the beginning of the post again?

#ateez #atiny #the real #kingdom #ateez kingdom #ateez theories #8 makes 1 king

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lemonz-and-limez · 4 years ago

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The Amends Consideration

A/N: @ailurophilia72 if you ask, you shall receive.

This one is a heavy one, I'm not going to lie. Saw this prompt on tumblr and it got my brain going I just couldn't get it out of my head. Death has reared its ugly head in my life again and that kind of fueled a lot of this story. I am in a lot of pain right now and I needed it out. This story was the product.

I know in Young Sheldon, George is portrayed a lot differently than what is let on in Big Bang. I tried to go for the way he was described in BBT, a darker version definitely compared to what we see in YS. Just for full disclosure.

Prompt: Sheldon gets sad when he realizes his dad will never get to meet his child

Sheldon didn't know what to think as he pulled his mother's unexpected package out of the mailbox. Mary hadn't mentioned anything about sending him something, so the contents of the small box in his hand was a mystery.

He sorted through the rest of the mail on the elevator ride back up to his and Amy's shared apartment. Bills, adds, a couple of congratulations cards for the upcoming birth of their son. But nothing interested him more than the nondescript box he cradled under his arm.

As the elevator doors dinged open, Sheldon paid no mind to the obvious chatter coming from 4A. Penny and Bernadette had teamed up to throw Amy a baby shower, which his wife wanted but never had time to plan. With her two friends already being mothers themselves, they decided it would be easier to take the responsibility into their own hands. Of course, that meant Amy would probably be gone most of the day, knowing how those ladies like to chat. Sheldon didn't mind though, he never cared if he was on his own.

He had planned on getting some work done that he had neglected during the week. No day like Saturday to get things done, after all. However, the second he stepped back into his apartment, he threw everything from the mailbox except his mother's package onto the kitchen counter.

Sitting down on the teal couch, Sheldon inspected the parcel on the coffee table in front of him. "Alright, let's find out what you are," Sheldon whispered to no one, taking out his tiny pocket knife and carefully cutting the tape. The box opened from the side, so he spilled the contents out before him. There was a loud clunk as something heavy, and plastic hit the table. A couple other things fell out with it, one of which was a note from his mother.

Shelly,

Found this while cleaning out the garage. Figured it was something you should have. Forgive me for watching it without you, but I needed to know what was on the tape.

Please watch it, baby. He would have wanted you to see it.

Love, Mom

Sheldon set the note back down on the table and picked up the item that had caused the most ruckus on its way out of the box. A VHS tape. Probably the last thing Sheldon expected his mother to send. Upon further inspection, Sheldon found his father's handwriting scrawled across the label.

Make Amends – For Sheldon

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Sheldon sighed heavily. A part of him didn't even want to give this tape the time of day. His father had been dead a long time; there was no need to dig up dirt from twenty-six years ago. But his curiosity couldn't help but wonder what his father could possibly have said to him on this tape.

According to her note, Mary had watched it already. Should he just call her and just have her tell him what was on it?

No. Sheldon was mature enough to watch this recording without calling his Mommy for assistance.

He moved quickly around the small living space and in front of the television. After the "football game tape over" incident last year, Sheldon invested in a used VHS player. Amy had teased him about it for weeks, but he couldn't possibly tell her the real reason he got it. Not to watch old movies from his childhood, which he did so Amy couldn't call his bluff, but to listen to his father's voice again when he started to forget what it sounded like.

With a few expert moves, Sheldon had the video playing in no time. Cradling the remote in his hands, back on the couch now, he leaned forward with rapt attention.

George Cooper was already in view, adjusting the camera on whatever he had it perched on. Which, according to the date, also on the label, was in 1994.

It was only a couple of seconds before his father had settled into the chair of his old office at Sheldon's old high school. From the looks of things, it seemed dark, like it was late in the evening. Unfortunately, he didn't have time to think about it too much because the dead man started talking. Literally.

"Hello, Sheldon," George sighed. "I don't know when this video is going to find you or how you're going to take it, but this needs to be said, Son. I have to say this to you. Especially to you."

His father paused for a moment as if to compose himself. The moisture in his eyes told Sheldon enough.

"I'm in a twelve-step program, Sheldon. For my drinkin'. And before you think of it, no, your mother is not forcing me into it. I am going on my own free will, but I am doing it for her. I love your mom, Sheldon, I know you probably don't believe that, but I do."

Another pause.

"Step nine of this program is to make amends with people I have harmed. And a part of me knows you will never fully forgive me, but of all the people I need to apologize to, you're at the top of the list, Sheldon. Not just because of what you have seen, or the things I have said to you drunk, but because of my shortcomings as a father."

"I always had this idea of what a man should be. The typical, all things masculine, into sports, rootin' for the Dallas Cowboy's kinda stuff. But you never did fit that role, did ya, son?"

Sheldon watched his father smile at his question. There wasn't malice in his eyes like he was angry, but instead, he seemed almost proud of him.

"Georgie was always the one who liked to go outside and play catch with me, and go fishin', and do all of the things 'typical boys like to do'. You never had an interest in any of that, and because of it, I never treated you as I should. As a father should. Unconditional love no matter what your child does or likes. I tried to change you at any chance I could get, and that wasn't fair to you. I should have embraced your intelligence. I should have bought you that science kit you wanted instead of that dirt bike. I should have been the father you deserved, Sheldon, because you did. You are amazing, son, and I am so insanely proud to be your father."

Sheldon wasn't expecting this. He didn't think his father was capable of saying such heartfelt words about him. His father could sing praises about Georgie's accomplishments all day long, few as they may have been. But even though Sheldon never heard George say he was proud while he was alive, hearing the words said over tape struck a chord within him.

Before the man on the screen could start talking again, Sheldon pressed pause. At the beginning of the video, he had expected George to discuss the unfortunate affair that Sheldon had unfortunately born witness to. After all, that was his most blatant faux pas. But his dad had dug deeper, past the surface, past the infidelity. He looked for the root problem of his relationship with his son. Sheldon's father was a man much like himself, never liked to outwardly display emotions often, but when he did, they were sincere. So, for the great George Cooper to open up like this, to a camera albeit, meant a great deal to him.

It had been a long time since Sheldon had thought of his dad the way he was at the moment. Like the man who raised him, who helped shape who he was today, and not the man who simply cheated on his mother. That was the title he had held in Sheldon's eyes for a long time. There had been a few cracks here and there. Like he and Amy's wedding or the night they watched the pep talk George gave the football team in the locker room. But those moments were fleeting. Gone as quickly as they came.

Perhaps it was because Sheldon had yet to hear the contents of this tape. The fact that he never made amends with his father before he died had forever tainted his perspective of him. Sheldon couldn't be sure.

All he knew was that he suddenly felt much more at peace in regards to his dad. But in place of Sheldon's bitterness and anger towards him was a tug of grief in his gut that he hadn't felt for years. The twisting knot of pain that permeated throughout his entire body.

His dad in the video, had said he was proud of him. Insanely proud of him. And yet, he didn't even live long enough to see half of his greatest accomplishments. He never got to see him with a Ph.D., win a Nobel, and countless other awards. He didn't get to meet Sheldon's friends, never got to meet Amy. His father's absence was felt heavily at their wedding.

And now, as Sheldon was on the cusp of becoming a father himself, he wouldn't get to meet his grandson.

Even from his seated position on the couch, Sheldon doubled over from the crippling feeling that came with that thought. Missy had expressed similar views when she gave birth to her first child, but Sheldon hadn't expected that feeling to be so intense. So utterly heartbreaking.

Sheldon wouldn't get to see both of his parents cradling his newborn. His son wouldn't be able to enjoy two grandfathers. Or learn football from his Texan Pop-Pop and be forced to root for the Cowboys no matter how bad their record was.

His son would never meet the formidable George Cooper.

The dry sob that escaped his mouth surprised him. But then came another one, and again, and again, until his face was no longer dry. Sheldon could hardly remember the last time he had cried like this over his father. He had done it once in the twenty-six almost twenty-seven years his father had been dead. The day he found out his father passed away when he was alone in his dorm room miles away from home. But he was fourteen then, barely able to understand the true concept of death. Sure, he knew the science behind it, but not the emotions. Not the grief.

Still, the tears he shed in his living room were not unlike those he had shed in his dorm room. Alone, vulnerable, miles away from Texas. But one key element was different; he now could fully understand the scope of what his father being gone meant. How it impacted the lives of his family. How it changed what his son's childhood would look like.

Sheldon was now beginning to dread the day he would have to explain to his son why he only had one grandfather while everyone else at school had two. Hopefully, Amy's dad lived long enough so he wouldn't have to explain to his kid why he had none.

With his elbows rested on his knees and his fingers interlaced behind his head, he let his body feel the emotion running through it. He didn't try to surpass it as he had for years. But that just made it all the more intense.

"Sheldon?"

His head snapped up at the sound of Amy's voice. His heavily pregnant wife stood in the open doorway to their apartment, staring at him with concern.

Amy glanced at the TV for a moment. "What's wrong?" She asked, slowly walking the short distance to the couch.

Sheldon frantically wiped at his face, trying to make himself look more presentable. As if that mattered to Amy. "This came in the mail today." He held up the empty box his mother sent. "Mom was cleaning out the garage when she found this tape of my dad. She wanted me to have it," his voice cracked with the last few words as he threw the cardboard back onto the table.

Amy, now sitting next to him, rubbed his back soothingly. "Well, what was on it?"

"It's nothing, just my Dad explaining he was in a twelve-step program, and he wanted to make amends with me."

"So, why the tears?"

His face scrunched up again. "I don't… it just… it just hit me that our son will never be able to meet him," he sobbed. Sheldon gestured with his hands and tried to speak, but the words caught in his throat. "I-I-I don't know that j-just hurt more than I-I expected it t-to," he eventually stuttered.

Amy sniffled beside him, which made Sheldon finally look back up at her. She gave him a sad smile as she continued to rub his hunched back. "What was on the video that made you realize that?"

"I thought he was going to apologize for the affair, the one I walked in on. Instead, it was for his mistakes as a father. How he never seemed as proud of me as he did with Georgie. I didn't think my dad was capable of digging below the surface, but he did. He found the true problem with our relationship, and he wanted to make up for it." Sheldon picked up the remote and rewound the tape a little. "I mean, I have never seen my father talk about me this way. Look."

He pressed play.

"I should have been the father you deserved, Sheldon, because you did. You are amazing, son, and I am so insanely proud to be your father."

The video stopped again.

"If he was proud of me then, how would he feel about me now? Just the fact that I found you… he would have been over the moon. I'm sure of it. But now we're about to have a son, and he won't be here for it? I just…" Sheldon trailed off, not knowing quite how to word what he was feeling.

But Amy nodded in understanding. "Above all else, you wish he were here for our son," she stated, not asked.

"Yes. Despite all of my father's faults, he did care about his family. He would've gone down protecting us, probably, if a heart attack hadn't claimed him first. In light of all of my professional accomplishments, this is what would have meant the most to him."

Sheldon glanced down at his wife's stomach, where their son was visibly wiggling around. He smiled fondly at the sight but swallowed thickly at the emotion that rose with it. In a few short weeks, he would be holding that baby, their families would be surrounding them. Rejoicing with them.

But George Cooper wouldn't be there.

Suddenly, Amy's hand was no longer on his back but on his knee. "Sheldon," she beckoned him to look at her. "There's nothing I could say that would make this any easier for you, but might I suggest something?"

He nodded.

She laid her free hand on her stomach. "What do you think about making the baby's middle name George?"

"What?" He gawked. "I thought you wanted it to be William. You know, for Darcy."

She stared at him long and hard for a moment and then patted his leg. "I did, but I already got Elliot; let me give you this one."

Sheldon shook his head. "No," he said firmly. "You're doing all the hard work; you should get to decide two of the names. Seeing as how you don't want to hyphenate his last name."

Amy grimaced suddenly and held a hand to her side, her face scrunched up in pain. And suddenly, Sheldon was on high alert. "What's wrong? Are you having contractions?"

"No." She waved her hand at him. "Just got kicked pretty hard, that's all." He opened his mouth to point out her hard work again but she stopped him. "Look, Sheldon, I am really not upset about our kids only being Coopers. Seriously. I want to do this for you. I want his middle name to be George."

"Are you one hundred percent sure? You don't just feel sorry for me because my dad is dead and you think this will cheer me up?"

It sounded stupid coming out of his own mouth. Sheldon could only imagine what it sounded like to Amy.

"Sweetheart," she endeared. "Our son's middle name should be special, not the name of a fictional character. We only decided on William because we couldn't think of anything else. Neither one of us suggested George for some reason. I have no emotional attachments to the name William, but I do to the name George. We both do."

Sheldon took her hand in his own. "You're sure about this?"

"Absolutely. Besides, don't you think Elliot George Cooper sounds better than Elliot William Cooper?"

"William did lack a certain panache, didn't it?" Sheldon smirked, finally coming around after more convincing than it should have.

Amy laughed at that, but her face went serious again rather quickly. "I'm sorry you miss your dad, Sheldon. I would have loved to meet him."

"And he would have loved to meet you."

Sheldon looked back at the TV, his father's paused face, still staring back at him. He really did look like his father. His mother had always said so, but he never believed her. Now an adult, it was like looking into a mirror. He really was his mini-me.

If Elliot got Sheldon's eyes, then he would really have George's eyes. Sheldon only had them because of his father. Suddenly, he selfishly understood Amy's hope for their children to have his eyes.

"What are you thinking about?" Amy asked, pulling him from his reverie.

"It's just uncanny how similar my father and I look. I guess now I'm just being selfish in hoping our son looks like me." Sheldon looked over and was met with Amy's blank expression. "Not that I don't want him to look like you," he quickly tried to cover himself.

Amy giggled and motioned for him to stop. "I wasn't thinking that. I know what you meant. Your dad may no longer be alive, but he lives on through his children and their children. Not to sound overly sappy."

"Too late," he joked. "I know I am being overly sentimental right now because I'm thinking about my dad. But seeing his face again, hearing his voice, I guess I'm just trying to hold onto whatever I can of him."

"That's grief, honey," Amy said softly.

Sheldon nodded, acknowledging the truth and the harsh reality behind those words. "I know, and I haven't allowed myself to feel that for a long time."

They sat in relative silence for a moment, the gentle whirring of the VHS player the only sound filling the air. There was still more on the tape; George certainly had more to say. Sheldon was sure of it. He thought for a moment, then turned to his wife and asked, "do you want to watch the rest of the tape with me?"

"Really?"

He nodded slightly.

"I do."

George Cooper's voice sounded once more in a matter of seconds.

"Sheldon, I know you are going to do great things one day. I have known that since… well… forever. I know you're going to find amazing people to surround yourself with who will love you and treat you the way you deserve to be treated."

Check.

"I know you will make countless accomplishments academically, more than you have already."

Check.

"I know you will fall in love with someone someday who will make your heart soar."

Sheldon and Amy smiled at each other, squeezing each other's hand slightly. Check.

"I know you will have exceptional, amazing children one day because you and I both know you are too exceptional to not do so."

Almost check.

"I know you're going to live a full life, Sheldon. Because you have such a drive for greatness, and I know you have my stubbornness, so, you will settle for nothing less."

George leaned forward, on his desk Sheldon was assuming.

"I know I have a lot of making up to do, and I hope someday you will accept this apology. I know you have a kind heart, Sheldon; I have seen it with my own eyes. I will understand if you can't, I have failed you as a father thus far, but I hope that someday you will extend that kindness towards me. I cannot wait to see you grow up, do all the things I know you want to do. Hopefully, I'll be around to see you accomplish most of them."

Sheldon should have finished the video before he started crying earlier. The fact that this was taped less than a year before his father passed away did not escape him. Nor did that make his pain any easier.

He figured, at least now he had Amy by his side.

"I hope that when this video finds you, you will listen and not throw it away. Even if that's what I probably deserve. I'm going to try sending these tapes out soon, so call me if you see this. Just let me know you've watched it. If that's all you can do for now, I'll understand; I've got a lot of things to work on."

His father smiled fondly at the camera. Not the forced one that Sheldon could always remember from his childhood but a genuine, real smile. It was also his smile.

"I love you, Sheldon. Talk to you soon."

The video stopped and began to rewind to the beginning. Amy was rubbing at his back again, soothing him as tears once again fell from his eyes. But Sheldon was still too transfixed on the screen. He whispered it so quietly, he doubted Amy would be able to hear it. Which would be fine. It was one of the few things not meant for her ears anyway.

"I love you too, dad."

A/N: Well that ended darker than I usually end this. This story ended up being surprisingly personal to me for a lot of reasons, and since I am dab smack in the middle of grief it just didn't feel right to have some uber sappy happy ending, because that's not genuine. That's not real. It's bittersweet at the least I hope.

Thank you so much for reading, especially right now, it means the world to me.

#shamy #shamy fanfic

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manggojooz · 5 years ago

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Pick A Side (Part 8)

pairing: Taehyung x reader

word count: approx. 1,500

genre: university!au; angst; romance; slice of life stuff; a bit a bit of fluff

warnings: references to school bullying; references to voyeuristic behaviour

taglist: @destiel1597 @mila271 @hopetookmysoul @ximaginx @honeyursosweet @coffeecupyoongs @bangtanbaesstuff @annoyingpessimist @betysotelo18 @okaysoplshelpme @igot7bangs @tahaing

comments: i am sorry this took so long, i just keep feeling like it’s not enough xD this was originally the second half of part 7, so it’s best read together with part 7 ^^ And also, this is what I have been trying to express through this series, I hope you will enjoy reading it!

In any high school you would be able to find two kinds of people, the one that everyone had a crush on, and the one who could only have a crush on someone. You belonged in the latter category, attributable to the biggest crush you had on a certain senior. He played baseball, he had good grades and needless to say, he was really popular. You obviously never even had a chance to speak a single word to him, all the while only looking at him from afar.

A deafening crash travelled down the empty corridor one evening, scaring the hell out of you, who had forgotten your textbook and had gone back to the empty classroom to retrieve it. You followed the noise to a secluded storage room that hardly anyone knew existed. Through the tiny gap in the windows, you peered in, seeing a boy thrown against the metal cupboards. His hair was in a mess, his eyes glassy, and his body slumped onto the ground. Another two students towered over him.

You squinted to get a better view and you were half-certain the guy on the floor was your classmate, Jinho. You were not close to him, hardly anyone was in fact. But you couldn’t just walk away. What were you supposed to do now? Do you call the teachers? Should you barge in?

The tiny slit of light from the corridor was the only brightness filtering into the storeroom. Just as you were about to dash off to the teachers’ office, one of the boys standing over him turned his face slightly towards you. You will never get his side profile wrong, not even in the bad lighting, because that’s the only profile you were able to swoon at every lunch time.

It can’t be. This isn’t possible. Something's not right. You reminded yourself time and again not to jump to conclusions. It can’t be that he was bullying Jinho. There must be something else to this. Before anyone saw you, you turned away and ran out of the building, without telling anyone about what you saw, without a single word.

The next day Jinho came to school as per usual. You stared at him sporadically throughout the lessons. His expressionless face was no different than other days, but you felt uneasy. He looks fine though. Is he fine? Why would anyone bully him? It's not what it seems, right?

Lunch time came and you stared at that familiar side profile. He had the same cozy smile, laughing and chatting with his friends, but all you felt was uneasiness. It was definitely him in that room. Is he a bully? Why would he be? There must be some explanation behind what you saw, right?

That night a classmate sent a video to your group chat, asking if the boy in it was Jinho. In the shaky video, the guy’s face was half covered, his upper body bare, and he crouched in a corner of what looked like a less-patronised school bathroom. Whoever was or were behind the phone taking the video had a field day hurling and splashing what you could only hope was water at the ragged boy. No one else could be seen in the video, and the sounds were muted too.

Your fingers hovered over the screen of your phone, shaking. Don’t jump to conclusions, you reminded yourself.

But the conclusion jumped at you – the next day Jinho didn’t come to class. In fact, he never came again.

---

Taehyung was now sitting next to you on the floor, listening intently to you. The way you peeled at the skin on your fingertips was evident of how much it still stresses you out.

“You must have been scared”, he wanted to make you feel a little less bad about your decisions.

“That’s the worst part. I was scared of the bullies... but I was more scared of admitting that he could be the bully. Because I liked him... I told myself not to jump the gun, I gave myself excuses that I didn’t know everything. I lied to myself thinking that I was being fair, that I was being neutral...”, your voice started breaking.

“... it was obvious... at that time... it was already so obvious... when I did nothing, I chose his side. I am no better than him... it’s not wrong if anyone calls me a bully too”, you were choking by now, tears flushing down your face, as you were sucked into a whirlwind of guilt and remorse.

And you were reminded of the words that you lived by ever since:

“We must take sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented.” ~Elie Wiesel

“You are not a bully, Y/N...”, you felt his hands hold onto both of your tear-stained cheeks, his palms warm from the hot hairdryer air.

“... you were the only person who helped me during orientation, remember?”, he continuously tries to wipe away your tears with his hands, but they continuously fall from your eyes uncontrollably.

“Do you know tha... that... after the video spread around, Jinho couldn’t come to school? They say he locked himself up for days and... and his mother broke down the door eventually... and found him unconscious. When he woke up he couldn’t... he wouldn’t say a single word. She has all the right in the world to hate us. She wouldn’t let anyone from school visit him. But I keep trying... I just... I feel so bad and sorry to him... if only I did something, if only I...”, you rambled on, sobbing and choking through your tears.

He pulls your head down onto his shoulders, “Everyone makes mistakes... it’s ok... it’s ok”, he paused a while before continuing, “We all hope for forgiveness when we make mistakes... so that we can breathe easier. But whether to forgive is up to the person who has been hurt... it is only fair that way...”, if the air could speak, it would probably sound like his voice now.

When the ice beneath cracks, it cannot be fixed. And if you live with cracks inside of you, those are the marks of your mistakes. Everyone has cracks inside of them, small ones, long ones, ugly ones, bleeding ones. We create them on others and we get them from others. Some people let the cracks consume themselves, some people let the cracks consume other people, some people learn to live with them, some people learn from them.

“So, maybe it's not always about being forgiven... sometimes maybe it is about letting go. Not that we should forget about it... but sometimes we have to live with our mistakes and the consequences... live with them in our hearts, at least I think that is what a good person would do...”, Taehyung sighs, as you drenched him in your tears this time.

These are the things he thinks about these days. Will he ever receive forgiveness? From you. Or should he learn to let go? Of you.

“I know it’s hard...”, he started stroking your hair lightly, trying all the ways he could think of to help you through this.

“It’s nothing compared to what he had to go through”, you wept, referring to Jinho.

“Mmm...”, the wisest response he could think of was to agree. He too knows, that whatever he was going through, was nothing compared to what he made you suffer.

Not every mistake will be forgiven, not every wrong can be absolved. Out of respect for the hurt which has been caused, it should never be forgotten. Now and then, it will find ways to submerge you, seeping through the cracks within you, but you don't have to let it drown you.

He was waiting for you to use up all your tears but Taehyung must have been exhausted by his day, because as time went by, you felt the strokes on your hair weaken and eventually his hand falls onto your shoulder. His breathing was deep and lethargic, his heartbeat slow, and you realise he must have dozed off with his head now resting on top of yours.

The unhurried beats in his chest were soothing, his sweater was softer than your blanket and his arms circling you was like a fence. This moment felt safe, the air felt serene, the night felt tranquil.

You guessed that this is why people are always known to be selfish. You couldn’t take someone’s side when they required it, yet you so readily accepted this gesture of companionship in your own time of need. You buried your face into his chest like an ostrich hiding from something, although even an ostrich wouldn’t be able to hide away from its conscience in this way. You were equally exhausted, and eventually the lullaby of his heartbeats lures you into sleep.

You knew you were still not forgiven, even with Taehyung by your side. But you were no longer bearing it alone, because Taehyung was by your side.

---

In the morning, as you picked up that yellow post-it which had slipped out from your pile of mail, you finally now recognise the handwriting as Taehyung’s:

“Please don't say anything Reach my hand out to cover the mouth But in the end, spring will come someday The ice will melt and flow away”

Your smile at his words lasted a few moments, but then it slowly devolves into a bothered frown. Why did Haejoong not correct you when you asked if he wrote the notes?

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koressecretidentity · 6 years ago

Text

A new future - Thomas Sharpe x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, bad writing, slightly heated moment at the end

Word count: 2229

Characters: Thomas Sharpe, Lucille Sharpe, (y/n) (l/n), (y/n)’ parents

Pairing: Thomas Sharpe x Reader

Reader gender: Female

A/N: English is still not my first language and I do have two beta readers but they are Dutch too so if there are any grammar mistakes, please forgive me. I also hope the usage of language is correct.

GIF is never mine unless stated otherwise masterlist

Nerves wrecked through (y/n)’s body. She had never met this man in her life before, how was she supposed to act in love and content if it would turn to be everything she feared.

Everything seemed to slow down. It was everything she wanted yet everything she feared. A marriage. That’s what she had always dreamed of. An arranged marriage. That’s what she had feared for so long.

Her father had decided on an arranged marriage if (y/n) couldn’t find a fitting

husband herself before she turned 18 and her 18th birthday came much sooner than she had appreciated.

So here she stood. (h/c) locks falling over her shoulders while other locks were neatly put up in a bun. A few pearls decorated her hair and shined brightly in the light that bathed on her back. (e/c) eyes met her father’s who held his arm up expectantly for her to hold. He’d walk her down the aisle and towards her new lover. Or the one that was supposed to become her lover.. So her parents hoped.

“It happened with us too,” her mother had said, “We fell in love while we were on our honeymoon and look where that brought us.”

Well apparently that had led to her birth and her own arranged marriage. (y/n) had heard so many stories of women who were basically a prisoner in their own house, stuck to the chores and the kids while the husband was out to work, earn money. And while that wasn’t new for her, she feared that her husband would be someone who wouldn’t give her one ounce of freedom.

For years (y/n) dreamed of such freedom and she had hoped her parents would’ve showed mercy and let her travel the world, explore new countries and everything. But that didn’t seem to be the case.

As (y/n) and her father made it down the aisle, the bride couldn’t help but notice that most guests were ones she knew or at least had seen once. Except for one woman. Dark long hair fell down her back and the look she held in her eyes was rather cold. It send small shivers up (y/n)’s spine. It was like that woman didn’t seem happy at all that her male relative was getting married.

Well, (y/n) figured it had to be a relative of the man at the end of the aisle for she herself couldn’t recall meeting that woman and she was sure she’d remember a cold look as hers

“Don’t stare, keep walking.” Her father demanded her and it was only then that (y/n) noticed that she had hesitantly stopped walking for a few seconds to take in the woman’s looks. She quickly made her way further down and then her hand met very soft ones. Probably the softest ones she had ever felt.

Then she had to turn her face to look at the priest that made them say their blessing.

Due to the thick veil covering her face, she didn’t get a clear look of her soon-to-be husband but she had seen the outlines of his face and she felt lucky that she didn’t get an ugly one. It sounded a little rude but she’d have to survive with that man for the rest of her life whether she wanted to or not.

So when the priest pronounced them husband and wife – the whole room cheered happily – and the veil got lifted, her breath hitched as her (e/c) irises met gorgeous blue ones. The man – Thomas if she recalled correctly – had the softest look in them and he cupped her face thus gently that she could’ve sworn that man thought she was fragile and breakable.

And then his lips were on her own. They felt a little rough in contrast to her own soft ones but she didn’t mind one bit. She even felt the fireworks every lovesick woman talked about when they kissed their lover.

Way too soon to her liking, they pulled away again and Thomas wrapped on arm around her waist, holding her close as they made there way down. Both smiling happily and when they were alone for a few minutes she heard him speak clearly for the first time.

Sure she had heard his voice at the altar but she hadn’t really paid attention. She had noticed his accent was British though and that might’ve explained why he acted like such a gentleman.

“I’m such a lucky man,” Thomas whispered while now cupping her face again and leaning his forehead against hers, “I know we barely met but I can’t help it but feel for you.”

Well.. Now (y/n) at least knew he felt the fireworks too when they kissed.

“I understand that when we take our leave to my home country and when we get there you’d rather sleep on your own, in your own room and maybe even on our honeymoon. I know we’ve never met before and I shan’t force you into a more intimate relationship than we already have-“

“I don’t mind,” she interrupted suddenly and tilted her head a little, her lips brushing against his as she spoke, “Pardon me for the interruption but I don’t mind at all. I’ve never felt more safe with any other man than you and I am willing to give this a chance.”

Thomas smiled brightly, his lips still curled upwards as he pressed his lips once again against hers.

It was days before they went on their honeymoon. The newly wed travelled around the world and made various stops. But never once did they make love to one another. Mostly because they had to get to know each other still and let it build up to a healthy relationship before they could do such things. Despite (y/n)’s parents constantly asking whether or not she succeeded in getting pregnant. Whenever they knew where the couple was staying, they send letters that way with the same question and every time they did, (y/n) and Thomas send one back with the same explanation over and over again.

It had gotten thus much out of hand that (y/n) one night after receiving yet another letter – they were in Paris at the time – constantly kept apologising for her parents and kept on assuring Thomas she did not want to force him in such things much unlike them. Thomas had laughed good-heartedly and pulled her into his embrace. He assured her how it was alright and that he understood more than anyone.

He had gotten private letters too. Ones he hid from (y/n) and more often than not didn’t even open or respond to them. They were from Lucille, asking when he’d come back to get back to their usual routine.. A routine he didn’t want to repeat again. A routine he wanted to save (y/n) from for he had fallen in love with her. A routine that was thus disturbing he couldn’t tell (y/n).

“Whose is that?” (y/n)’s soft voice rang through the quiet room and her head was tilted down a bit, her eyebrows were shot up a little bit with curiosity.

Thomas had been reading a letter from Lucille for the first time in a while again and it was safe to say his sister became annoyed with the delay of the plans. Her handwriting wasn’t as neat as before and her words were less careful must one open up a letter.

“Lucille..” he found himself ready to confess everything. Everything he had done wrong. Every single piece of his sins.

“Come sit down with me and take a look at this letter,” he placed the letter next to his leg and held his arms out for his wife. (y/n) took his hands and let him pull her into his lap while she picked up the letter. As she read it, he kissed the exposed flesh of her shoulder softly, eyes closed as if that would make the truth less painful.

I’m tired Thomas.

Tired of waiting. You better come home soon again. I’ve been waiting long enough for the two of you. The poison is even starting to loose it’s power gradually. We better let her sign the papers and then kill her instantly. I took care of her parents, they are dead.

You better hurry up too, Thomas, because you know I will not harm you in any way if I can help it. I love you too dearly for that, but my patience is growing thin.

I expect to see you in three days.

Love Lucille

(y/n)’s eyes widened as she read the letter. She figured already who Lucille meant by ‘her’. No doubt it was her.

“And you.. Want to kill me too?” she whispered sadly. For some reason her eyes couldn’t leave the paper and Thomas had to place his hand under her chin and turn her head to make her look at him. He shook his head with a determined look in his eyes.

“My love, why do you think we’ve been away this long? The day we were gone, Lucille killed your parents so you inherited the riches but I don’t want to go back to the same old dance,”

Thomas sighed and pressed his lips against hers for a few seconds, surprised to find her kissing him back.

“There is so much more to this story than you think. But for now, I want you to know.. I want to stay here in Paris. We can buy a nice house, any house you’d like. We can start a family again and.. If you’ll still have me.. maybe grow old together.”

He saw the hesitation in her eyes. He couldn’t blame her. After everything he had done, he wouldn’t dare to begin a future with him either if he were in her place.

“First explain to me what exactly is going on.” She whispered after a few beats of silence.

Thomas nodded slowly and tucked her head underneath his own so he wouldn’t have to look at her as he confessed every single sin.

He told her how they killed their own mother in the bathtub and how had started something new. A mistake he could punish himself for every day. They had a baby but something was wrong with that baby and it died soon after Lucille had given birth to it. Or died.. Lucille had it killed.

He told her how he used several woman to their advantage the same way that they had been planning to use (y/n). It was all for an invention and Allerdale Hall.

After he had told her every single piece of his past he found himself in tears. He felt incredibly guilty and while he didn’t dare to look at his loved one when she pulled her head from under his. She turned her body, straddling his lap that should’ve led to intercourse if it weren’t for the moment. Soft hands cupped his head and her beautiful voice called out his name as her thumbs wiped away his tears.

“It’s.. It’s not okay what you have done but I am proud of you. I am proud that you dared to confess it all to me and told me the truth. Thomas I love you. More than anything. I forgive you for what you have done. I do want to start a family with you here, in Paris. We’ll go looking for a house tomorrow.. How does that sound?” she suggested. Thomas looked her in the eyes. Scanning them for any sign of disgust but he could find none. In fact, they were filled with love and adoration. For him.

“Please stop crying,” she whispered and pulled his head against her chest, holding him closely, “It breaks my heart to see you this sad.”

He calmed down, focussing on how her hand raked through his hair, massaged his scalp gently. He focussed on her heartbeat and her steady breathing. It calmed him down.

When the tears had also stopped he looked up and kissed her passionately, turning them around so he was on top of her.

His hands were at her sides, holding her close and he pulled away a little,

“I love you (y/n).. Please let me make love to you.”

A nod was the response that gave him the consent he needed and soon her kissed her again. Lips hot against hers, tongues in a passionate battle. Only breaking away when they needed air. His lips though didn’t stop moving. They went down her neck, kissing gently, showing how much he loved her as his hips rolled against hers in need of friction.

All the layers of her skirt were pulled up to her midsection. His head was in between her thighs as he kissed her gently close to her most intimate flower. Blue eyes never leaving the sight of her face as it contorted into an expression of pleasure.

Once they both were warmed up enough, he lined up and gently penetrated her. Careful so he wouldn’t hurt her too much for it was her first time.

Through the whole night, they made love to one another.

The next day, their life begun for real by looking for a fitting place to settle down together and live their own lives. No Lucille – for her letters were thrown away as soon as they got one – and no more lies.. A new future.

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marilyn-lucille-23 · 6 years ago

Text

Lily White

Without fault or corruption; totally innocent or immaculate. (Definition of Lily White)

The angel called Castiel had never felt anything but a call to do a duty for a father he’d never even laid eyes on. He was a willing and kind soldier. He followed everything he was told by the book and thought little of anything else.

That changed, however, when he was sent on a mission to save a mortal. This green eyed man would change Castiel’s life for all of his eternity. He didn’t know exactly what “feelings” were, until he met the broken human who felt he didn’t deserve to live—the man with no faith—the sad and angry individual who Castiel had held tight against his chest and pulled from hell itself.

Dean Winchester was a walking, talking wreck.

Soon enough, Dean became the angel’s best friend. More of a friend than his angelic “brothers and sisters” had ever been. Dean and his younger brother Sam were the only real family Castiel had ever known. They were the only ones who had given him forgiveness and second chances when he had nothing to offer in return.

It is true that an angel can be distracted and lust for others, no matter in what disfavor it is.

From his first official meeting of Dean, Castiel had felt those passé desires to comfort him, in more than a friendly way. He had wanted to please Dean. He had wanted to catch his eye every time he’d walk by, waiting for a sideways glance and smile from Dean.

Every time this happened, Castiel felt a slight tug from somewhere inside him. He could never quite explain the feeling Dean’s sideways glances gave him, let alone the winking game Dean played with him. These were playful flirtations that only humans knew how to respond to and practice. Castiel tried to shove those feelings aside as an angel. He knew the temptation was heavy on his end, but he managed to keep what he felt for the man in check.

However, Castiel had lost his grace two weeks and three days ago, and had realized quickly that the emotions of lust, love, and yearning for another were impossible to ignore or even define. Maybe as an angel with grace, he could’ve always resisted, but now, as he sat across the table from the freckle faced young man who was studying out of three large books of lore, Castiel couldn’t imagine a more beautiful sight. He couldn’t imagine life without Dean. He couldn’t imagine not being able to look upon his friend, to study his face, to simply bask in his presence.

Upon Castiel’s fall, the brothers had offered him a room of his own in the bunker. Castiel, having nowhere else to go, acceptable graciously. He was weak and unable to care for himself in the mortal sense. Both brothers worked to nurture him back to health, and teach him most things human.

Dean, especially, had shown an innate sense of protection toward Castiel. It went as far as to be on the line of possessive. He never left Castiel’s side.

Castiel didn’t mind this. He felt safe, loved, and warm around Dean.

The first night after his fall, Castiel was weak and exhausted, but couldn’t sleep no matter how hard he tried. Sam called this insomnia. Later the next night when the three men had said their goodnight and went to their separate bedrooms, Castiel heard a faint knock on his door a few moments later. He got out of the bed where he’d been staring at the wall, frustrated because he didn’t even understand how to make himself sleep. Dean stood at the door with a book in his hands.

“Sammy used to have terribly insomnia, and I’d read him this. It’d knock his ass out.” Dean said, holding out the book out so that Castiel could see it.

The cover read “The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes.” Castiel had never heard of that before, but he wanted Dean to be with him nonetheless. Dean dragged an uncomfortable wooden chair from the corner of the room and sat it next to Castiel’s bed. He propped his feet up at the end of the bed and began to read.

Castiel laid on his side to face Dean in the dim light. He watched the hunter’s perfect lips move as he read aloud the story that Castiel couldn’t even concentrate on.

Dean’s gruff, low voice was the most relaxing, comforting thing he’d felt in what could have been his eternity. Sooner than he wanted to be, he was asleep.

As soon as Castiel woke up, he had a splitting pain in his head. Sam called this a migraine.

Upon Dean finding that out, every morning he’d come to Castiel’s room with a hot cup of sweetened coffee and three Tylenol.

Every night, until Castiel could sleep on his own, and every morning that Castiel woke with a migraine, that was the routine of the two men.

One late night in particular, was special to Castiel. As he was almost asleep with his eyes closed, Dean stopped reading. Castiel laid still as Dean moved to bring the covers closer to his neck.

Dean then kissed Castiel on the forehead and said “goodnight, angel” in a whisper.

Castiel remained silent and faked sleep because he didn’t know how to respond to that. His body flooded with heat as he waited for the sound of the door to close. He then took a deep breath and felt the heat cover his whole body. He felt like mush inside, knowing that the hunter didn’t tend to be the tender kind.

He laid there awake and uncomfortably squirming for hours wondering how such small contact between Dean and himself had been able to send him into a practical coma of vulnerability. The fallen angel was yearning for Dean, deep down in is worn soul.

Castiel had pined after Dean incessantly since his fall from grace. He’d always thought the stars, moon, and sun worked around the young man, but now it was hard to control, perhaps even impossible to control. Castiel felt himself fall deeper and deeper into these feelings with no outlet whatsoever.

Castiel was more than consumed. There was a monster in him wanting to break free, wanting to feel this man in every sense of the word. Castiel seemed to have an inborn want to make his friend happy.

He felt as though he defiled Dean with every thought he had of him. Castiel didn’t know if it was “normal” to have such as strong attraction to another. He adjusted the hardness in his pajamas as he pondered Dean—this was an entirely new urge that happened whenever he thought of the hunter or watched him for too long. As an angel, Castiel had never fully felt the human body react outside of his control.

Castiel was embarrassed by this more than anything else. He was terrified that someone would see what he tried to conceal each time he was around Dean.

But, by far, it wasn’t just lust. It was the fact that Dean could sometimes finish Castiel’s sentences for him, and vice versa. It was how Dean’s hand brushed against his when they would both reach for the same thing. It was the feeling of privilege and pure giddiness that he got every time he caught Dean looking his direction. It was the fact Castiel had been inside Dean’s thoughts and saw briefly what battles he fought deep down.

As much as Castiel was broken, he still wanted to fix Dean. He wanted Dean to feel real love, the love that the Castiel couldn’t help but believe was the strongest love anyone could ever imagine. His insides practically burst with longing for Dean—all of Dean—the good, bad, and ugly.

As the days passed, Castiel learned to sleep on his own. One morning when he awoke, there was no migraine. He got up before either of the brothers and made his own cup of coffee. It wasn’t as sweet as Dean’s, but it was tolerable. Dean came in the kitchen smiling at his friend.

“No more busting headache?”

“Not even a little.”

“So you don’t need my room service anymore?” Dean wiggled his eyebrows and winked at Castiel with a crooked smile.

The newly fallen angel kept his guard up constantly around Dean. The hunter made Castiel so nervous and jittery that he felt like there were fireflies roaming around in his stomach just to make him dizzy every time Dean spoke or gave a look in his direction.

Castiel wasn’t stupid, naïve maybe, but not stupid.

He had seen enough of human interaction to know when someone was flirting. And he was sure that Dean flirted with him.

Sam went to bed early one evening, leaving Dean to search out lore. Castiel wasn’t sleepy yet, so he fixed himself a snack and stayed with Dean as he got lost in his research. Dean always moved his lips, but made no sound when he was reading.

Castiel half ate his snack as he observed Dean’s bow like lips from across the table. Dean took a note in messy handwriting and then shoved the top half of the pen in his mouth, chewing it gently. Castiel dropped a baby carrot as he watched this. Dean looked up and winked at him, asking why he wasn’t tired.

“I’m hungry, not sleepy.” Castiel said lamely, his mouth still slightly agape as he watched the hunter chew on the pen. Dean sometimes gave off such confidence that it was almost arrogant. He leaned back in his chair, playing aimlessly with the pen. Castiel couldn’t help but stare back at Dean. He could see his tongue inch out as he fumbled the pen around in his mouth. Castiel got an alarming notion that the hunter knew exactly what he was doing as he gave an odd smile to Castiel.

He also knew that Dean was womanizing and straight as a string to the naked eye. This compelled Castiel to know why the hunter tortured him so. Castiel hid his own emotions very well, so he thought.

That was, until one evening, as he laid in bed writhing at the thought of Dean. He could no longer take the consuming hunger for the hunter, and decided to confide in Sam. Castiel considered this and realized that it would probably be an embarrassing mistake. After all, this was his love’s brother, and at the very least, this would be grimacing and uncomfortable. But, next to Dean, Sam was all Castiel had.

There hadn’t been a time when Sam hadn’t had his back. Based on that alone, Castiel bit the bullet, got out of bed, and padded barefoot down the hall. He lifted a shaking hand to knock on Sam’s bedroom door one late Sunday night.

It only took three light, consecutive tap tap taps before the young man opened the door.

“Cas…” He said with a raspy voice and paused to look at his watch.

“It’s, like, 3am. What’s wrong?” He asked, looking tired and worried. “I’d hoped I wouldn’t wake you… I heard the television through the door.” Castiel said, feeling stupid already.

“It’s alright, I was half awake.” Sam said with a smile. Sam had always been kind to Castiel, even the times when he didn’t really deserve it. He trusted Sam.

Castiel stood there, lost in what to say, with a perplexed look on his face. Sam finally cleared his throat as if to bring Castiel back to life.

“I just need to talk to someone. To you.” Castiel finally answered.

“I don’t know about you, Cas, but I’m going to need some coffee if it’s conversation time.” Sam said with a yawn. Castiel followed his friend to the kitchen, sat at their table, and waited patiently for him to make his coffee. The smell of coffee made Castiel think of Dean.

Literally everything made him think of Dean. His infatuation had gotten so far out of hand that he was consumed by any and every thing about him.

A few moments later, Castiel accepted a cup of coffee from Sam. Sam sat across the table from Castiel and looked at him expectantly. Castiel didn’t speak a word. Sam made a worried face. Castiel looked away.

“So, what’s bothering you, Cas?” Sam started. “I’m here to listen.”

“Your brother.” Castiel said flatly.

“Yeah… He bothers us all, honestly.” Sam said, chuckling lamely as if trying to ease what was clearly going to be an awkward conversation.

“I’m having feelings… Very odd feelings for Dean.” Castiel in a low, blunt tone.

He may have been human, but his communication skills were still on a lower level than the usual. Before Sam could respond, Castiel spoke again.

“I think I might be in love with him.” He blurted out.

Sam stared at his friend with a knowing smile on his face.

“I think you know you’re in love with him, Cas.” Sam finally got a word in.

Castiel looked mortified and unsure as he raised his eyebrows at Sam, who kept a smug grin on his face the entire time they looked at each other.

“So you see my dilemma, then?” The fallen angel looked up to Sam with sad eyes.

“Yeah,” Sam replied. “But I know things. I know his secrets. I’ve been stuck on this earth for him for over 30 years, I think I can read him pretty well.” Sam said. He scratched the back of his head and mussed up his long hair. It was easy to see that Sam was uncomfortable to a point, but he didn’t seem to have a second thought about helping his newly humanized friend.

Actually, he seemed oddly compelled to do so.

“You know he flirts with you, right?” Sam asked.

“I’ve noticed what I thought was flirting, but it’s different from how he is with women.”

“YEAH!” Sam said excitedly and his face lit up. “That’s because he flirts with women just to get in their pants.”

“I want him in my pants.” Castiel said with a dead straight face, as if he’d just announced something as simple as “it’s raining outside.”

Sam choked on his coffee and gave a few heaving coughs before he settled.

“I didn’t really need to know that, there, Cas.” The young man laughed and washed his hands over his face, as if trying to get the image of something unpleasant out of his mind.

Sam composed himself and continued to speak.

“What I mean, Castiel, is that he flirts with those women for one thing. I don’t think I need to explain to you what that “one thing” is…or do I?” He asked without a note of sarcasm in his voice.

“I don’t think so…?” Castiel half stated and half asked.

“Sex, Cas. That’s all my brother wants from the women. A good time, and then he can drive away from them.” Castiel looked at Sam thoughtfully as he went on.

“He flirts with you differently because he doesn’t want to just fuck you and leave you.”

“So he doesn’t want to have sexual relations with me?” Castiel concluded with a defeated look on his face as he stared into his coffee mug.

“How. On earth, did you deduce that?” Sam asked shaking his head making his shaggy hair whip around his face.

“You’re literally how old, and this is your conclusion!?” Sam asked exasperatedly.

“I’ve honestly lost track of how old I am.” Castiel said thoughtfully.

“CENTURIES old, Castiel. You are a centuries old being.”

“But I’ve only been human for a few weeks, Sam.” Castiel said lowly, his head practically buried in the mug now.

Sam’s exasperation turned into what looked like pity as his face softened.

“I know.” He said kindly.

“I don’t even know what I’m experiencing. All of the feelings and emotions and what my body does when I’m around him, it’s all new to me. It’s all very severe and I don’t know how humans deal with this.” Castiel’s said tensely.

“Cas. Don’t ever tell me what your body does around my brother, okay?” Sam closed his eyes and lifted his head toward the ceiling as if he were praying for patience.

“What I’m trying to tell you is that, when Dean flirts gently, like he does with you, it really means something to him. He’s not just playing you like he does those women.”

Sam folded his hands together on the table. He demanded that Castiel get his face out of the mug and look at him.

“I know my brother. And I know he has feelings for you. Deep feelings.”

Castiel’s heart started beating rapidly.

“But how? I feel like a puppet on a string around him.” Castiel said.

“He’s afraid, Cas.” Sam said solemnly. “I know you’ve seen into him. You’ve seen enough to know he feels vulnerable. And he feels that way around you, and only you.”

“I’m the vulnerable one.” Castiel argued. “I’ve never had any desires like I feel for Dean.”

Sam gave a sort of shudder as Castiel was still sexualizing his brother.

“Look, I get it, okay? I can’t imagine how intimidated you are about the thought of love or,” Sam grimaced as he spoke the next words, “lust for him.”

“But if you want him, you’re going to have to make the first move, Cas.”

“Dean will flirt you to death with and fill you with lust and confusion. But, at the bottom of it, it’s like this: He is more afraid of rejection than anything. He won’t try because of that fear. He’ll lead you on until you go crazy. Until you either walk away from it because of your own fear, or you face it like a real mortal man.” Castiel looked upset, a frown set on his face.

“I know it’s not what you wanna hear, man. But it’s the truth.”

“Dean is a complex person. He knows what his heart wants, but he won’t always go after it, because, as much as he puts on that arrogant and intimidating façade, he does have his own weaknesses. And you are his main one. You have been for almost as long as he’s known you.”

This information took Castiel by pleasant and terrifying surprise.

“Do you trust me, Cas?” Sam asked.

“Of course I do.” Castiel replied.

“Then heed my advice. Step out of your comfort zone, stop being afraid, and go for it!”

“How do I overcome my fear?” Castiel asked, looking away.

“Sam, I’ve never even kissed anyone. I don’t know what Dean will expect of me. I’m an idiot at being human.”

“You’re not an idiot.” Sam reassured him.

“Give Dean hope. Flirt back. Don’t be so shy. Snap out of the idea of being with him, and actually be with him. Trust me, he will know where to go from there.”

At that moment, Castiel and Sam heard footsteps coming their way. They looked at each other and both froze.

“What the hell are you two doing up at this hour?” Dean asked grumpily, his hair messy and eyes struggling to adjust to the light.

“We were just having a chat. Couldn’t sleep.” Sam answered for the both of them.

“What is this, the friggin’ Golden Girls?” Dean replied in a sleepy, annoyed tone. He then went to the refrigerator to search for something edible.

Sam gave Castiel an amused wink, grabbed the pen and paper sitting next to him on the table, scribbled something down and slipped it to Castiel before Dean could see. Castiel opened it to read “He’s jealous that you’re talking to me. Tear this note up.” Castiel tore the note and crumpled it up in his palm, giving Sam a shy, but happy, look of understanding.

“Why stop the chat now?” Dean asked, plopping down a plat that held a half-eaten pie.

“Why the hell are we all awake?” He added.

Castiel and Sam looked at each other, not saying a word.

Castiel looked to Sam to fix this, but Sam had nothing, apparently.

“I actually got up for pie.” Castiel finally said.

Dean raised his eyebrows. “Well you’re not getting any of MY pie.” He stated.

“Just a little?” Castiel asked, gazing at Dean an giving him a half smile.

“Get that puppy dog look off your face and grab a fork, for the love of god.” Dean tried to sound gruff, but instead it humored Castiel.

Castiel grabbed a fork and sat in the chair next to Dean.

Sam stayed seated and watched the two of them interact.

“I just want a bite of the crust.” Castiel said, diving his fork toward the crust.

“Hold on!” Dean said, blocking Castiel’s fork with his own.

“That’s the best part!” he argued.

“That’s why I want it… Just a nibble.” Castiel said pathetically. “I’ve never got to enjoy food before, and the crust is what I want.”

Dean rolled his eyes dramatically and gave the entire plate to Castiel.

“There, Cas. Have some pie. I’ll just eat nothing.” He huffed.

Castiel used his fork to pick up several slices of apple inside the middle of the pie and offered it to Dean.

Dean looked at him warily.

“What? Castiel said. “I told you I only wanted the crust. He shrugged.

Dean eyed the pie being offered to him and slowly leaned forward to eat it off the fork.

Dean still looked grumpy, but Castiel got the crust he wanted.

Sam let out a snort, got up for a bottle of water, and announced that he was going back to sleep as he walked away.

“What’s his deal?” Dean asked suspiciously.

Castiel gave Dean a hooded glance and shrugged again. “I don’t really know.”

The two of them finished off the pie and said their goodnights.

They went to their separate bathrooms to brush their teeth before going to their rooms.

Castiel laid in bed thinking over and over about what Sam had told him. He felt the humanized giddiness of happy panic. His insides were dancing as if fairies lived in him at the thought of Dean desiring him.

But…he had to make the first move? Castiel pondered this for a few moments, and without over thinking it, jumped out of his bed and tapped on Dean’s door.

Dean answered the door with a “what?” He was wearing only boxer briefs. Castiel didn’t speak as his eyes swept over every inch of Dean’s toned body, glancing briefly at his crotch.

Dean snapped his fingers at Castiel.

“Hey, buddy, my eyes are up here.” Dean said with an uncomfortable chuckle.

Castiel felt heat in his cheeks and hoped he wasn’t blushing.

Castiel didn’t care about how bad he was at being human. If what Sammy said was right, then he’d be doing whatever he could to make Dean feel as loved as Castiel loved him.

“Dean, I haven’t been able to sleep all night, and I can’t sleep now. Would you come read to me?” He said with downcast eyes, his long lashes touching his upper cheeks.

Dean’s voice went soft. “Is the insomnia back? Do you have a headache? Of course I’ll read to you. Give me one minute.” Castiel smiled a thank you at Dean and went to his own room.

A few moments later Dean walked into Castiel’s room where the light was so dim it was hard to see. Castiel had lit candles. He often did this to calm his nerves. The room smelled of lavender.

Dean went to the corner of the room to grab the chair he’d always sat in. Castiel stopped him.

“Come, sit here.” He said, patting the edge of his queen sized bed and scooting over to give Dean plenty of space. Castiel was under the covers, so Dean stayed on top of them politely. He leaned against the head of the bed and began to read in that soothing tone of his.

But, Castiel didn’t have sleep on his mind. Just as he told Sam, he had no idea what he was doing, but he was damn sure going to try to do it. As Dean read, Castiel inched closer and leaned his head on the hunter’s shoulder. Dean stumbled a few words aloud and cleared his throat.

A few sentences later, Castiel sunk down lower in the bed so that he could lay his head on Dean’s chest. Dean stopped reading for a moment, and sank down a few inches with Castiel. He continued to read where he’d left off. Castiel bravely placed his arm across Dean’s stomach. Dean went on without a pause and casually slumped one arm around Castiel’s shoulders.

Castiel felt doubt threaten his mind, but it wasn’t as strong as the warmth that he got from being so close to his friend. Castiel loved the humming of Dean’s voice ad he read. Being this close to Dean, being in his embrace, had brought all of the blood from his head to other areas of his body.

Dean made the next slouch down in the bed. They played this game until Dean’s head lay squarely on one of Castiel’s pillows, and Castiel’s head lay on Dean’s chest. Castiel hadn’t let go of Dean, and he was happily laying with the hunter’s arm around him. Castiel fake yawned, causing Dean to yawn as well.

“You sleepy enough to pass out yet?” Dean asked, a hint of worry in his speech.

“Uh uh” Castiel responded truthfully. He’d never been in want of sleep less in his mortal life.

“Well, I can’t hold this book up for much longer.” Dean said in an entirely too forced way. He spoke uncomfortably.

Castiel didn’t respond. Dean bookmarked where he’d left off.

“Cas?”

“Dean?”

“Are we cuddling?”

There was a second of silence.

“I think so.” Castiel said bravely, still with the covers between them to hide his hardness.

It took all of his strength to look up at Dean, who wore a small smile on his face.

“Cas… why are we cuddling?” Dean asked in a husky voice that he’d never heard the hunter use before.

“Because,” Castiel said, laying his head back to Dean’s chest, “You’re warm, and comfortable, and you smell nice.”

Dean chuckled and scooted down a few inches to be even with face Castiel. Dean took Castiel’s head gently in his hands, forcing him to make eye contact.

“Is that the only reason, angel?”

Castiel frowned. “I’m not an angel anymore, Dean.

Dean leaned in so close to Castiel that he could feel Dean breathe against his lips.

“You’ll always be my angel.” Dean said and quickly let go, looking away.

With every ounce of bravery the newly mortal man had in him, Castiel spoke.

“Why won’t you kiss me?” He asked Dean.

Dean turned back to face Castiel.

“Cas, you’re pretty new to this whole “mortal” thing. Don’t make me make a bad decision because you’re feelings are fucked up.” He spoke as a friend to Castiel.

Castiel had spent so much time wanting and needing Dean so that “friendship” wasn’t exactly what was on his mind. He wanted more than that. He always had. Maybe turning mortal was the best thing that could’ve ever happened to Castiel.

“Dean. Do you want me?”

Dean took a moment to answer. He squirmed uncomfortably. Castiel glanced down to see a raised spot in Dean’s sweatpants.

Castiel struggled to not let out any noise of excitement at this. He kept the feelings pushed down as far as possible, while his mind ran wild. He had a hard time containing himself, but he managed.

“What do you know of “wanting” someone, Cas?” Dean asked, still in the friend mode.

“I know that, before I was human, I wanted you. I know that the moment I turned mortal I could no longer hide my desire for you.”

“Desire?” Dean said gruffly.

“Yes. I desire every inch of you. I always have.” Castiel spoke more brazenly to Dean than he ever had. If getting Dean meant he had to bare his soul, then he was willing to do so.

“Whoah.” Dean said, clearly shocked by what he’d heard.

“Who knew angels could talk dirty?”

Castiel got annoyed. He leaned up on his arm to better face Dean, to look into his beautiful abyss of green eyes.

“Stop. Toying. With. Me.” Castiel spoke between gritted teeth, though he wasn’t angry. He was consumed with frustration.

“Fine.” Dean said. In an instant he pushed Castiel onto his back and was on top of him, blankets tossed from between them. Dean’s lips met Castiel’s. Castiel’s pushed back hard against Dean’s kiss

Dizziness encompassed the newly mortal Castiel. After all the pining, he was finally getting what he’d longed so relentlessly for since he’d met Dean. Castiel wasn’t an experienced kisser, but followed Dean’s lead to as best as he could. Their tongues played together in unison.

Dean embraced Castiel, rubbing their fully clothed bodies together.

Castiel bit down hard on Dean’s lower lip and sucked his tongue. There was more desperation in this moment than Castiel had ever felt in all of his eons of age. He pushed his hips into Dean’s. The most sensitive parts of their bodies clashed together making heat in Castiel’s pants that had never existed before.

Castiel pulled at Dean’s shirt desperately, dragging him in closer so he could reach his neck. “Big, bad” Dean gave out a moan as Castiel sucked on the spot below his ears.

“You don’t want to do that.” Dean said in a deadly serious voice.

“Make me stop, then.” Castiel bit Dean’s neck and kept a hold of him. It seemed as though the tension that the two men shared for each other was almost a fight.

“That’s my spot.” Dean said breathing hard. Castiel didn’t stop sucking.”

“Cas,” Dean kept on, “You don’t get what I’m saying.”

That much was true. He didn’t know what Dean meant when he said “That’s my spot.” The naïve fallen angel was much too innocent to understand. Dean finally pulled away from Castiel. Castiel fought to get to him, but Dean kept his hands pushing down on his shoulders, and kept straddling him, not enabling him to move, though Castiel fought against him in an almost viciously desperate way.

“There are certain temptations that I can’t handle, Cas.” Dean said breathing heavy. His eyes were a shade of green that Castiel had never quite seen, his pupils were large and he had a crazed look about him. This look turned Castiel on, and also made him feel very vulnerable.

“There are consequences when you push too far, and, buddy, you’re pushing too far.” Dean said. His eyes were blazing and arms shaking as he looked deep into Castiel’s eyes and held him down.

Dean made the mistake of releasing his left hand from Castiel’s shoulder to check and see if he was bleeding from where Cas had bit and sucked him into an oblivion of desire. Castiel grabbed Dean’s neck with his freed arm and drug the hunter back to him. He kissed Dean roughly until, yet again, the hunter pulled away, pinning his best friend to the bed for certain this time.

“We’re not doing this, Cas. I’m not going to fuck you.” He said gently but with a firm tone. Not like this. Not because we’re crazed, lust filled animals. You deserve better than that.”

Immediately, Castiel was taken back to the first time he formally met Dean. The Dean who didn’t think he deserved anything—especially to be alive. And now he felt as though he didn’t deserve to be loved. His heart ached at the hunter’s words.

Castiel wouldn’t give up that easily.

He gave up the fight and allowed Dean to hold him down, although still throbbing through his boxers. Castiel crooked his head sideways at Dean. “You still don’t think you deserve to be loved, do you?” He asked, intrigue in his voice.

“I don’t deserve to be loved by you. No matter the grace being gone, you’re still an angelic creature. You’re pure and lily white. That is why I will always call you “Angel.”

“I’ll stay lily white, regardless of what we do together.” Castiel promised Dean.

“Just let me in.” Castiel all but begged.

“Let me experience love.” His eyes were watery.

Dean leaned down to kiss his friend again.

“How can I turn that down?” Dean asked.

“Please don’t.” Castiel said.

Dean and Castiel laid on their sides facing each other. Castiel had an innocent and expectant look planted on his face as he looked into the eyes of his best friend.

Dean inched closer to Castiel.

“Is this what you really want?” Dean asked so softly that Castiel could barely hear him.

“Yes, you’re what I want. You have been from the moment I met you.”

“Is that really how long this has been going on, Cas?”

“For me, at least.” Castiel refused to look at Dean.

“As for you, you’d have to tell me.”

“I can’t tell you, but I can show you.” Dean took Castiel’s face in his hands and kissed him long and slowly. There was passion in the kiss, but it was different. It was more of a gentle, unspoken “I love you.”

Castiel closed his eyes to enjoy this new sensation.

Castiel stared at Dean when the kiss was over. Dean’s hands were still around his face.

Without thinking, Castiel admitted the truth.

“I love you.” He said, never breaking eye contact.

Dean froze and released Castiel’s face.

“Don’t tell me that, Cas.” Dean said, staying inches from Castiel’s lips.” “I’m weak from holding it in.” Castiel admitted.

Dean grazed his hands gently down Castiel’s face.

Then, Dean said something Castiel hadn’t ever even let himself imagined he’d say.

“I’ve loved you from day one, Castiel.” He cast his head down as if with shame.

“I just couldn’t ever imagine that someone so pure could see anything worthy in me.”

“I see all of heaven on earth in you, Dean Winchester.” Castiel replied.

“And I see all the innocence of heaven and earth in you. You’re the most amazing creature I’ve ever known.”

The two men stared at each other, their eyes searching one another for a trace of what to do next.

Instantaneously, they grabbed each other’s faces and began kissing again.

Castiel broke the kiss, trying to breathe normally.

“Dean,” He started seriously, “I don’t really know how to please you, but I want to… You’ll have to be patient.”

Dean gave a deviant laugh that made Castiel’s stomach feel as though he’d dropped off of a ten story building.

Dean gentle straddled Castiel again, but allowed enough room to grab into the waistband of Castiel’s pajamas. Castiel closed his eyes as Dean touched him.

Dean teased him for a few moments before Castiel began to untie the waistband of Dean’s sweatpants. He was met by Dean’s hand. Dean shook his head no.

Instead of trying to get the sweatpants off, Castiel felt Dean through them. He ran his hand along the print of the hunter’s most sensitive area, while still dragging his face close so that he could nibble at Dean’s neck.

Dean, for once, followed someone else’s lead. He rubbed Castiel through his thin pajamas.

Castiel was experiencing pure ecstasy for the first time in his life. He was slightly afraid by the powerful force of excitement he was feeling, and wasn’t sure what his body would do next. He removed Dean’s hand because he was afraid of the outcome. He kept sucking Dean’s neck, and rubbing him through his sweats.

“Castiel,” Dean began with a desperate and needy voice, “if you don’t stop, we’re going to have a moment. A moment I’m not sure if you’re prepared for.”

Castiel’s heart hammered in his chest and he didn’t think once about aborting what he was doing.

“Cas…” Dean kept saying over and over, his voice hitching as Castiel continued.

“Don’t do this to me.” Dean whispered.

Castiel didn’t respond, he just continued to devour every inch of the hunter.

“Cas…” Dean moaned into Castiel’s ear once more before he released.

Dean raised up slowly and breathed abnormally while trying to cover the mess in his sweatpants.

Dean excused himself to clean up, and returned a few moments later wearing a towel around his waist.

Looking uncertain, the hunter got into Castiel’s bed.

“Do you regret that?” Dean questioned, his breathing back to normal.

Castiel looked up at Dean with a satisfied smile. His eyes were beaming an innocent, baby blue.

“Not in the least.”

Dean drug Castiel close, cradling him. He kissed the fallen one on his head.

“You’re still lily white, aren’t you, Angel?”

“I told you.” Castiel smiled sweetly at Dean.

They held on to each other until they fell asleep. Castiel had never been happier in his long, long life.

#destiel fluff #destiel #destielfic #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #maybe a little smut

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thisway-imagines · 6 years ago

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COZY! MY LOVE! If it’s alright, could you do jealous Xander or Ryoma with a thirsty summoner that doesn’t necessarily flirt but she does tell people (like you uwuwuwu) how attractive they are. I love you! uwuwuwu

anything for you, dearest mari now

also no u ur attractive too, cutie!!

(i haven’t written in a while so gomen if i’m rusty - it got long so ehehe under the cut if you will!)

Xander

Seeing you so fond and close with each other… stirs up an ugly feeling inside him. He dislikes how you come up to others so easily with your affectionate words meant for them… but not for him.

At first, he dismisses his feelings away as he’s the Prince, and soon-to-be King of Nohr for god’s sake - there is honor in being one, and he understands that he must respect what you do. But the feeling continues to plague him, and he doesn’t understand why he’s feeling like this. Why were you so important to him…?

When he sees you so close to others like Ike, Hector, and so on, Xander resists the urge to waltz right up to you and whisk you away to somewhere where you could profess your words to him in a more… private manner. But he can’t act upon them - it would be dishonorable to do so! There is an inner battle fought inside his head, struggling to win over whatever that was controlling him to feel so.

And when the Nohrian prince sees you skipping over to Ryoma for a conversation, it suddenly clicks. Gods, is he ever so jealous of how you don’t seem to spend your lovely words on him.

At some point, he starts to take action without knowing it. You’d feel Xander’s presence beside you (more often than not), following you around like a little puppy. You don’t mind his presence at all - you’re elated to have his company as well - and he continues to be there when you initiate conversation with anyone else.

(The other heroes find it slightly intimidating when Xander glares right through them as well, while you’re blissfully unaware of what’s even going on).

There are moments where he’d be more protective of you as well - you’d feel lingering touches on you, his arms coming to pull you into himself protectively during battles or when the other heroes get too flirty with you (or vice versa!).

Xander’s actions don’t go unnoticed by you, for when you two finally find a moment of rest you immediately come up to ask him teasingly: “Xander… what’s the matter? Have you been closer lately… or is it just me~?”

Completely flustered by a response like that, he splutters at first for being caught off guard so easily by someone like you - there is a slight red on his face, and Xander doesn’t know how to speak to you at first.

But eventually, with your curious eyes, he promptly professes how… jealous he has been when he sees you around other heroes. Your kind and affectionate nature has lured him so much… he’s completely enamored by you and wishes for you to only say such fond and loving words for him only.

And suddenly, the entire dam breaks - he starts to tell you how much he admires you as a tactician and adores you as a person, and how he fell in love with you, and-

Great, now both of you are red-faced and you’re the one who doesn’t know how to speak. Jealousy sure does wonders to a person, especially such a prince like Xander…

Ryoma

He isn’t the type to feel jealousy at first - it takes him a while to even feel such feelings, for Ryoma isn’t very bothered by how fond you are to everyone. You’re fond to him too, and every conversation with you has him smiling warmly.

But there is a point where he becomes… irritated. Ryoma doesn’t understand why he feels like this at such a stage in your companionship, for he never felt like this before when you came up to others with such flirty words said by your wonderful voice… Ryoma desperately wants to hear them from you, but this time directed at him.

Unlike Xander, he’s rather straightforward in his actions to capture your attention but does it more discreetly. He’ll remind you of meetings you need to attend, invite you out for tea, come out with him so you could watch him train, or march right up to you while you’re having a conversation with someone else casually, telling you that he’s prepared things for some of the promises he made - he’s gotten all the ingredients to teach you how to make mochi now, so Ryoma implores you to come with him. Perking up at all of these suggestions, you eagerly follow him as you leave behind whoever you were talking to, them looking baffled at how easily persuaded you were.

As this continues to escalate, jealousy flares as the Hoshidan sees you approaching Xander for advice and you smiling up at the prince with such tenderness in your eyes - and that’s when you find a small note left in your quarters that night, perfect, neat handwriting that was unmistakingly Ryoma’s, coming to meet him in the royal gardens as soon as you’ve read it.

Walking down the hallways to be greeted by the fresh air in the gardens, you approached the area when you saw Ryoma sat under the trees, wind blowing softly as his hair moved along with it and shining under the moonlight. Hearing your footsteps, he turns around and smiles fondly at your approaching figure - you feel heat rising to your face despite the cool winds, for you’ve never seen such a charming smile from anyone else.

“Please, take a seat, [Name]. I wish to say something to you…” As you seat yourself down, nervousness rises up as he turns you so you looked at Ryoma directly, his hand slowly coming up to cup your face. He feels how warm your cheeks feel, and his smile only turns even more soft when he sees your flustered expression.

“For the past few months… I’ve been jealous. I only wish to hear you say those… daring and affectionate words to me, to see you happy and smiling all the time, and have you all to myself - you’ve charmed me in so many ways, [Name], that I wish to only do the same back to yourself. While jealousy is an ugly feeling not befitting for such a prince like me… I hope you can forgive me for trying to hard to earn your attention for a while now. But… if you accept my proposal of becoming my beloved, I promise to be more open and not let such feelings take over the best of me.”

As you listen to his words, there’s too much heat in your face to think of a proper reply - and all you can do is fall into his embrace, hiding your face in his chest as he lets out a hearty laugh and pulls you in closer. Ryoma has sure succeeded in charming you~

#xander #ryoma #fire emblem fates #fire emblem #imagine #summoner #fire emblem heroes

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veryniceaus · 7 years ago

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mmmm high school au!woozi ??

omg i am so sorry how late this is but i hope you forgive me

How do I say this: you and Jihoon did not get along - at all. He was quick to anger and so were you, plus you two were always arguing over who was right and wrong almost all the time. Unfortunately, you two shared almost every class together, which made it that much harder to avoid him. At least you two sat on opposite sides of the room.

Which is why you’re suprised one day when the art teacher announces that she’ll be assigning partners instead of letting the students choose, and to you and Jihoon’s luck, you two have been paired together.

Begrudgingly, you went to sit by Jihoon, dragging your feet the entire time. He just looked at you as you sat in front of him. “Why did we have to be paired together?” You muttered.

“I’m not happy about this either, and you better not slack on purpose. I don’t want my grade to go down because of your idiocy.”

You glared at him. “I’m not going to! You better not either.” Then you blinked. “What’s the assignment anyway? I wasn’t listening.”

He sighed heavily. “Of course you weren’t. We have to draw a portrait of each other.”

You watched as he opened his sketch pad, putting his pencil to paper. “You’d better not make me ugly on purpose.”

“Don’t worry; I’ll be sure to capture your average looks in this drawing,” he said, to which you rolled your eyes at.

After class, you and Jihoon decided to meet in the art room on the days when the art club wasn’t meeting to work on the project after school. Today happened to be one of those days, so once the school day was over, you headed to the art room.

Jihoon was already there, sitting in the same spot as earlier. You walked over to him and sat in the stool across from him. “You go ahead and draw me first,” he told you.

“Sure.” Taking out your sketch pad and pencil, you looked up to find him staring at you. “Um, what?”

“What do you mean, ‘what’? I’m supposed to stay still for you to draw me.”

You rolled your eyes. “I know that! I just want to know why you’re just weirdly staring at me.”

“Well what else am I supposed to do?” he asked.

“I don’t know, like do your homework or something. Do you want your portrait to be just you staring straight ahead with those soulless eyes of yours?”

He glared at you, but pulled out a notebook from his backpack anyway. “Fine, suit yourself. Just don’t mess up.”

“I won’t, I won’t.”

Now, the room fell silent, the only sounds being your pencil sliding across the paper and Jihoon’s pen scribbling over his. You studied Jihoon; he wasn’t bad-looking. In fact, he was pretty handsome, and you felt that he would be popular if he wasn’t so prickly all the time. You took in how the warm sunlight fell on his face, making his skin glow and how smooth his hands looked as he wrote, but they were also attractive with how defined his knuckles were.

You didn’t realize how obsorbed you were with staring at him that when his eyes suddenly flickered up to meet yours, your heart skipped. “W-What?” you stuttered.

“Your hand stopped moving.” His eyebrows furrowed. “Is something the matter? Your face is red.”

“I’m fine!” You exclaimed before looking back down at your sketch pad. His portrait was turning out nicely, the only thing left was to make it more detailed and defined.

He glanced at the clock on the wall. “Well, it is getting kind of late. Let’s end it here.”

You watched as he packed up his bag and walked out the door, giving a small goodbye wave to you on the way out.

Ever since that day, you noticed every thing you never did before about Jihoon. How handsome he is, how nice his voice sounded, how nice he smelled whenever he would lean in a bit while you two talked.

And most of all, how everything about him made your heart race.

As you sat in the art room, waiting for Jihoon, who was having a meeting with the history teacher, you thought about your feelings. How did this happen? Why are you feeling all nervous around him when just a couple weeks before, you couldn’t stand him? The worst thing of all is that you don’t know what he’s thinking. He doesn’t seem to feel any differently, since he always treats you the same as before, although his snarky remarks towards you have decreased. Maybe you were just over-thinking things, maybe these feelings will go away once this project ends!

“Spacing out again?” Jihoon’s voice asked, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“Um, yeah. Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he said as he opened his sktech book. “Go ahead and do your thing while I finish up my drawing.”

You two had decided not to show each other the portraits until both were finished. Your portrait of Jihoon was done, and you were worried about what he might think about it. In your drawing, it was him writing in his notebook. You ended up asking him what he was writing one day, finding out that he wrote lyrics.

“Could I read it?” you had asked him.

He narrowed his eyes. “Why? So you could make fun of it?”

“Of course not! I’m just curious. Please, can I read it?”

He sighed as he handed it over to you. The first thing you noticed was his neat handwriting, but what stood out to you was how well-written the lyrics were. They were lyrics that made you feel a little sad, but as you kept reading, you got the message of the song: things may be hard now, but if you keep pushing foward, you’ll eventually get to a place where everything is alright.

“You’ve been quiet for a while,” he said, breaking the silence in the room. “What do you think?”

You looked up at him and smiled. “I really like it. You’re really good! I never knew. Can I read more another day?”

His eyes widened a bit before he looked away, scratching the back of his neck. “Sure, I’ll bring some of my other works with me next time.” You could have sworn you saw a bit of pink dust his cheeks, but you brushed it off. There’s no way Jihoon would be blushing, right?

Now, Jihoon announced that he’s finished with his drawing. “So, let me see how you did with the drawing of me,” he said.

You pulled out your sketch pad and opened it up to the drawing. “Listen, before I show you, I want you to promise you won’t laugh or get angry.”

His eyes narrowed. “Don’t tell me you really did mess around with this assignment?”

“No!” you exclaimed. “Gah, never mind! Here!”

You thrust the sketch pad at him and he took it, handing you his own with his other hand. Nervously, you grabbed his sketch pad before slowly looking down at the portrait he had drawn of you.

It was beautiful.

You didn’t even recognize yourself at first; you thought he had handed you a drawing of a competely different person. But, sure enough, it was you. You were staring out the window, your chin resting in the palm of your hand. Jihoon was able to capture even the smallest details of your face. Your eyes sparkled from the sunlight, your expression peaceful.

Looking up, you were about to say something to him, only to stop when you saw the look on his face. He stared down your drawing of him, his expression unreadable. Scared, you hesitantly called his name. “J-Jihoon?” you said.

He seemed to snap out of his thoughts. “What?” he asked.

“Oh, nothing. Just… what do you think?”

Instead of answering you, he abruptly stood up from his seat, the stool’s legs scratching against the floor. Pushing your sketch pad back to you, he grabbed his off the table and shoved it into his bag. “I have to go now. See you.”

“Wait!” you called after him. However, he didn’t turn around and disappeared out the door.

Without thinking, you quickly stood up and chased after him. He hadn’t gotten far, so you quickly caught up to him and grabbed his arm. “I said, wait!” you shouted. “What’s your problem? Why did you just leave?” He kept his head turned away from you, only angering you further. “Listen, if you didn’t like my drawing, you could of at least said it instead of just walking out of the room like that.”

“I didn’t not like it,” he finally said. He turned to face you, and your were surprised to see the soft expression on his face. “I was just surprised. I didn’t know how to react, so I left.”

“What do you mean, ‘surprised’?” you asked. “At how bad it was? I mean, I know I’m not the best artist but-”

“It wasn’t bad,” he cut you off. “It was far from bad. You did a really good job. I was shocked at how good it was.”

“So then why did you just randomly walk off after seeing it?”

“Because… I didn’t want you to see my reaction,” he mumbled. Confused at first, you peered closely at his face. That’s when you noticed the slight blush on his cheeks and how shy his expression is.

In response, your own face turned red. “Oh.”

“Oh?” His eyes narrowed. “I said all that embarrassing stuff and that’s all you have to say?”

“Well, honestly, I don’t know what to say.” You laughed. “I’m just glad you liked it. I was so scared you wouldn’t.”

“Why?” he asked. “I would have liked anything you came up with.”

You heart sped up. “What do you mean?”

He stared at you. “Seriously? Is it not obvious by now?” He sighed when you shook your head. “I like you.”

Now, your heart was beating hard that you were sure he could hear it, and just like that first moment that day, you noticed how beautiful he is. The sun shone through the window again on him, making him seem like some otherworldly creature.

Stepping closer to you, he asked, “Did you like the drawing I made of you?”

“Y-Yes,” you said.

“To be honest, I wasn’t planning on giving it to you. I was going to give you another one that wasn’t as good as that one.”

“Why?”

His cheeks turned red. “It’s embarrassing! My feelings for you became so obvious with how good it came out. I was nervous that you’d figure it out.” He sighed before looking into your eyes. “Well, I suppose it’s too late now.”

You stared at him. “Do you really like me?”

Instead of answering with words, he leaned into you, softly pressing his lips to yours. “From the moment I saw you,” he said seriously. “I just didn’t know how to act around you, but I guess you took that as me not liking you.”

“Sorry,” you said. “But I really thought you hated me!”

He laughed. “Well, you know now.” He stepped away from you, holding out his hand. “Let’s go.”

Smiling, you put your hand in his, and he squeezed your hand slightly as you two made your way home.

#seventeen #seventeen scenarios #woozi #jihoon #seventeen imagines #fanfic #au #seventeen au #high school au #woozi scenarios #woozi imagines

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godzillamendoza · 7 years ago

Text

Leaving Behind 2017 - Relationships are haaaarrrrdddd

So much to some people’s surprise I’m sure, I’ve been with a couple girls this past year. Like real ones, not those ones that holographically project themselves over prostitutes that you can install in your ceiling. (does anyone get that joke? No one saw that movie but me, right?) Ah jeez.

Gotta learn to quit automatically deflecting with humor when something stressful comes up. Gahh! This is a healing/learning experience.

Okay, so context is important. I know all of this is stuff from before 2017, but it leads into how this year went so its important to cover: in 2015 I had my first girlfriend, whom I shall not refer to by name. She and I dated on and off for about 5 months and it was the first real relationship I had been in. We started dating after I told her no 2 times. The third time she asked me to be her boyfriend, her friend was there and they sort of pressured me into it so I just went with it. Then I had my first kiss with a crowd of her friends standing around me, watching to make sure I followed through on the day after. The majority of our conversations were through text or skype, even though we went to the same school. She was just too busy to ever hang out with me outside of school. She was often jealous of me talking to other girls, she mocked me constantly and called all my hobbies “nerd shit” and rolled her eyes at me when I said I didn’t want to smoke weed with her. Then she told me she’d be hanging out with a guy named Patrick at her house after she met him over snapchat. I was obviously a little worried about it and she told me I was being controlling and needed to back off, so I did. Then a week later I tracked down Patrick and confronted him, asking why she was suddenly so cold and distant. He bragged to me about how good of a time they had together and how she complained about me constantly. He said the sentence “she’ll be mine by the end of the week.” Being cheated on by your first girlfriend in addition to some emotional abuse and being kept at a distance constantly... well all of it is like a perfect storm of PROBLEMS that you’ll have to deal with later. We broke up after I told her that I knew what they did, though it was like 2 weeks later because I was naive and forgiving at first. She’s dated around 5-7 people since that venture ended 2 years ago, so clearly she learned a lot from it. She also offered to go out with my again while she was dating another guy, which caused me to... well let’s just say I wrote a very long, very mean spirited message that I don’t regret.

Naturally, after all that, my self esteem was subterranean. I had a lot of image problems due to her comments on my appearance. I had severe trust issues with... well pretty much everyone. I had problems liking myself and I just needed outlets to focus on while I was lost. So I started making more videos on comic book stuff. While I was dating this girl I made a short video essay/editorial thing on my thoughts for casting Spider-Man in the Marvel cinematic universe. She was quick to dismiss it, but I felt like it was the first thing on YT that I was truly proud of and I wanted to make more. After we broke up I did that video about Spider-Man videogames you might have seen once or twice. It currently has over 400 THOUSAND views. I owe it to this girl I suppose, she made me so miserable that I accidentally became a z-list internet celebrity to take my mind off being miserable. It didn’t exactly fix my emotional issues, but it was a coping method that was better than becoming a meth addict or something.

--so on to 2017. This was the year where I started dating again. Obviously I would still have a lot of baggage after that first girl and everything that happened with her. I met a rather mousy girl in high school who I’ll refer to as... uh... how about Sandra? That’s extremely far off from her real name. Sandra. Well anyway, I met Sandra in high school and we kinda became friends. I wasn’t all that attracted to her physically. I’m still not. She’s not ugly, nor is it a shallowness thing, she’s just not really my type. I’m not the guy to just “take whatever I can get.” So it was a difficult decision when she told me how utterly heartbroken she was when she had no date to prom. I figured it would give me a good excuse to go to the prom and I would be making someone else happy, so I took her. And from that point forward she became rather infatuated with me and I made the hideous mistake of “just going with it” so I didn’t hurt her feelings. I tried my damnedest to find things to like about her as a girlfriend, but we were really a pretty bad fit. Plus, we had this sort of non-commital and strange relationship where we didn’t consider ourselves a couple, but still ended up holding hands or hanging out outside of school a lot. Sandra had never dated anyone before and I was a trainwreck because of the girl from 2015, so it was this stilted and halfhearted attempt at romance.

She wrote me a letter once, confessing her feelings about me and the way she thought of me at night. She was too nervous to give it to me in person, and had a mutual friend deliver the note. It was full of grammatical and spelling errors, and her handwriting lacked something to be desired. I was both honored... and slightly put off by it. She was 18 years old, with her own car and a paying job, but her methods of going after this relationship reminded me of the silly things I did in 5th grade. I guess that’s when I realized that I couldn’t keep leading her on and that it wasn’t really meant to be. I was looking for something a little more serious and age appropriate, but she still couldn’t handle something like that and I didn’t really feel for her how she felt for me. So I... just couldn’t figure out what to tell her. I ended up using graduation as a means to distance myself. We were moving off to different colleges with different goals and ambitions. I felt guilt for a long time for just brushing her off without saying anything beyond “I’m not really at a good place for a relationship right now, mentally.” Which was the truth, but I felt like I could have said more. We’ll put a pin in the story of Sandra for the time being, because it has a more clear resolution later.

Shortly before graduation, I received a piece of fan art on twitter that was truly special. It was probably one of the most accurate and detailed pictures of me anyone had ever drawn. Whoever did it clearly spent a lot of time staring at my old mug to make it happen and I was really impressed with it. I showed it to my classmates to not-so-humbly brag about my following online (come on, I had to be excited about something SOMETIMES, its not like I did it more than that one time). Then to my surprise I saw that there was a particularly pretty girl in the profile picture of the person that sent me this piece of fan art. I think my female audience is kind of small, so I was really happy to see one of them sending fan art and kind words. Plus I thought she was cute.

I sent her a DM on twitter saying that I thought it was really cool and probably one of my favorite pieces of fan art ever, she responded and we just kind of started talking from there. The more I learned about her, the more I liked her. We had a SCARY amount of things in common. Like, favorite comics, movies, books. We shared a similar sense of humor, we had the same extremely jaded reaction to fictional violence and laughed while looking at covers of “Crossed” together. We even took the same type of antidepressant medication. I fell for her really quickly, probably in the first 15 minutes of what would be a 9 hour conversation. Of course our mutual insomnia kept us from caring about sleep and we just kept talking and sharing stories and pictures of cosplay. I felt like I had never felt before. For the sake of protecting her identity, let’s say her name is uh... Lila. Sure, some of you internet detectives might be able to find out her real name, but I ask you... please don’t harass her or ask her about any of this. Respect her privacy, respect her decisions, and respect her in general.

So, Lila and I made an amazing match it seemed. She made me feel... like I had been found after being lost again. Part of me resigned to this notion that I’d never meet a girl who I had things in common with. Maybe I’d live my life with my interests and dreams being silly to the women I spent my time with, or worse, boring. Lila treated me like the things that I did and talked about were interesting. She thought I was cool. It helped undo a lot of self loathing just talking to her for that first 3 days. I was walking with a spring in my step at school for the final few days, I was singing in my choir class instead of just lip syncing, I was acting like I didn’t care what anyone thought of me, because at least she thought I was interesting, and that was all I needed. In a way, just meeting her was what I needed to get over a lot of pain, and I’ll always be thankful for her giving that to me. We didn’t have to be in a relationship, I just needed the validation of knowing girls like her existed. She stayed up until 4 Am with me on school nights, talking with me through text or skype helping me stay awake to finish studying for my geography test. We spent hours just talking about our lives and what we thought of the world. We shared our experiences battling depression. Eventually she told me that I made her happy when nothing else could and I said the same. In almost a week it felt like we knew each other for a life-time. So at 3 AM one night I asked her to be my girlfriend and she said yes. The problem with that was... she lived in a different country.

I never really considered that part until after it was too late. Long distance relationships have always seemed like a huge gamble to me, but I was willing to risk it for Lila. And for about a month, it was working REALLY well. We would watch movies together on skype, share ideas for cosplays, and just chat until the sun came up every night. She even helped me bake apology cupcakes for my mom at 5 AM after I carved a spider logo into the kitchen table on accident. I was feeling freaked out because I felt genuinely happy for the first time in two years and I was just waiting for some anvil to fall on me and everything to be ruined. But the distance and our age became a problem. We were both at the very end of high school, just about to go to college and unsure of where life would go. She mentioned that she was thinking about traveling abroad to go to college. I had a conversation about it with my mom and BOY did she take it far immediately. “Ask her to go to your college! She could move in with us! We have the room now! You could drive her to school every day and eventually get your own place and get married and have kids and blah blah blah blah...”

My mother was just excited. She’s also been going through relationship problems too in the last year, and was just living vicariously through me. My mom wanted something to be stable and long lasting and fun, but she didn’t realize that it was too early to ask Lila for these things... and I... like a complete idiot... asked Lila if she wanted to go to college with me and live in America with me. I pretty much asked her to move in with me after knowing her for 6 weeks. She still had a lot to learn about me, and vice versa. We were worlds apart and it would have been a huge step if she only lived down the street, let alone in a different country. I shouldn’t have asked, and I ESPECIALLY, shouldn’t have asked more than once. I still feel like an idiot for it to this day and it was nearly 6 months ago. Then things started getting worse, mostly due to my previous relationships bleeding into my actions.

The girl I dated in 2015 cheated on me because I was so hesitant to be physically intimate with her. That creates a lot of doubt and shame, so I started asking Lila how she felt about that sort of thing if we were to meet in person one day. She became uncomfortable with the subject and I very awkwardly tried to steer the conversation away from it. Then a message meant for someone else accidentally got sent to her without context that SEVERELY damaged the situation. When being asked about the price of something by a friend, I sent back a number, which went to Lila and without context “... about 8.50″ looks VERY... weird? Maybe even kinda threatening if you misconstrue it the right way? I looked like the biggest creep/moron! So I tanked that 4 AM conversation pretty hard, and then listened to some very, very poor advice from a friend who said “just try to be casual with her about that stuff.” Because of my internal fears of her being bored with me if things didn’t get hot and heavy now and then, I started awkwardly making more casual references and jokes regarding sex over the following two days. It made her uncomfortable, and she kept quiet about it, so I kept doing it until I just couldn’t anymore. I had to tell her that I didn’t like it either and that I was doing it because I was worried she’d end up getting tired of a relationship where it wasn’t a factor. I held her to the same standards as the girl from 2015, and it was unfair. She wouldn’t cheat on me if I didn’t bring up intimacy constantly, and I was stupid for thinking she might. I won’t make excuses, but I will say why I did that. And I know I learned from it and won’t do that ever again. That made things a little more tense and over time, we started having other issues as well.

Lila made an off handed reference to some passage of her diary she wrote about me in the last few days we talked. The thing she said concerned me, as it didn’t sound positive at all. I pressed her on it because I was worried it was just several pages of her listing off the things she hated about me. Eventually she broke and read it off, and it was just several pages of her listing off the things she hated about me. She disliked my dress sense and hated my clothes, she thought the way I ate food was stupid looking(???) she felt weird about dating me for my RACE, because apparently she didn’t talk to many white guys except me. She spent hours of her personal time writing about superficial things about me that she didn’t like, and thus my self image problem had returned and I didn’t wear button up shirts for 4 months. I asked her if there was anything she DID like about me, and after a long time of struggling to find something to say, she said she liked my sense of humor and that I was nice to her. Which are... kinda general reasons to like someone? Like, non-specific and sort of forced. Then over the next few weeks she started insulting me a lot more. She developed a habit of casually calling me a... derogatory term for homosexual... (not sure what twitter’s policy is on cussing and slurs, currently so I don’t want to say it) and saying hurtful things randomly. I figured it was time to accept that the honeymoon phase was over and that she didn’t like me nearly as much as she initially thought. She didn’t like me nearly as much as I liked her. Then the final straw happened.

Being in a relationship with someone so far away can be stressful, because your ability to speak to them is entirely dependent on the use of the internet and all its various outlets. If she were to just decide one day she didn’t like using Facebook messenger anymore and delete it, I wouldn’t be able to speak with Lila through it unless I used something else. So when she casually deleted messenger one day, I just... couldn’t hear from her anymore. She never told me she was going to do it, so all of my messages to her on the first day went to no one. I decided to give her some space and assumed she just didn’t feel like talking. By day 5 I was a nervous wreck and assumed she died and had no idea where she was or what happened to her. I was losing sleep over it, my friend was checking police reports in her area, I messaged her on twitter asking if she was okay. I got no response and felt so scared. Eventually, my friend Damian messaged her on twitter myself and she responded in a few short hours, just saying she forgot to tell me about it and resumed talking to me on twitter like nothing happened. All that worry and anxiety turned to anger really quickly, because she was either trying to break up with me in an indirect way by ignoring me, or she was just being inconsiderate and actually forgot to tell me our main means of communication was going away for no specific reason. I didn’t resent her, but I was upset.

This caused me to think long and hard about the relationship and how it was doing after those short few months. We both made mistakes. I got way ahead of myself and was asking about very serious steps way too early, I let my distrust of people guide my decision to act like someone I wasn’t to keep her interest because of past experiences, and she undermined a lot of my self confidence and said some very toxic things. I wasn’t quite ready for a long distance relationship and I was still hung up on bad things from my past. She hadn’t dated anyone before and wasn’t really ready to commit, nor did she have much interest in it. We agreed that going back to being friends was better, before we started to hate each other. And of course, we talked less and less in the following weeks until not at all. We haven’t spoken in a few months now, and looking back I’m not proud of my actions or hers. I think in another life, another time, after we both did a lot of growing up, we might have made a really great team. As I said before, I’m still very thankful to have met her. I think just meeting her gave me a lot of hope and confidence that even she couldn’t really ever take away. I know now that I have a chance at meeting someone who doesn’t look at me like an alien. I know now that I can’t be distrustful and hold everyone to the same standard as people. I know now that if I were to try dating again, there are a lot of bad choices that I’d avoid (definitely wouldn’t be so damn clingy, ew). And I know now that the girl from 2015 isn’t the only girl on Earth who will be interested in me, I just have to look for another one. As for “Sandra,” I texted her midway through this last semester telling her that I felt guilty about the way things quietly drifted off, and we met up a few weeks before thanksgiving break. That night we tried one more time, going to a restaurant with no open seats and a 2 hour waiting time. She said she wasn’t hungry and we went back to her place where she had no food so I remained starving for that night. Her parents weren’t home, and we... spent the rest of the night looking at vacation photos on her phone. It was clear that the magic just wasn’t there, and I told her before I left that I appreciated her giving me the opportunity to tell her that it just wasn’t meant to be. She had no interest in the things I liked, and while I could see that she tried to like those things too, her heart wasn’t in it. So we ended things amicably like we should have months before. I was proud with how I handled it, and I felt as if though I was finally an adult when it came to my relationships.

I don’t need another person to like me in order to validate my existence. I don’t need to have everyone in the world think I’m awesome. I don’t need to rely on someone constantly to maintain my self confidence and my image. I don’t need to date someone to avoid feeling lonely, because you can be just as lonely in a relationship as you are out of one. I don’t need to say and do things untrue to myself to keep someone interested in me, because if they lost interest when I act like myself, they aren’t worth my time. I don’t need to date someone to feel complete. I don’t need to date someone just because I don’t want to hurt their feelings by turning them down. If you’re feeling alone lately and having a hard time getting into a relationship, just remember you don’t need any of that. There’s always someone out there for you, and your interests don’t make you completely alone, even if it feels like there’s no one else in the world that shares them. Being into “nerd shit” doesn’t guarantee that you can’t find someone to love and care about, and even if someone loves the same stuff as you, it might not work out anyway and that’s perfectly fine. Just remember that the only person you need to believe in you is you and no one else can fix you but you. Try to find someone after you have all that stuff sorted out or you’ll just end up getting hurt again.

In all reality, I don’t need a girlfriend at all, but I’d still like one because the company is nice. There’s a girl out there for me, and I’m going to avoid the mistakes I’ve made in the past, and I’m going to leave behind the baggage and tragedies that lie behind me. Who knows, maybe going into 2018, I’ll get to meet her. Let’s hope so.

#relationships #story

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baekzhang · 7 years ago

Text

paperweight | pcy

park chanyeol. reader-insert. 5,2k words. fluff/angst. au

—it couldn’t hold onto those letters forever. Neither could he hold onto her.

this one is for Liv

⚜️

“Dear Chanyeol,

I’m not quite sure whether to classify you as dumb or cute. Seriously, Park Chanyeol? You sent a ring along with a letter with the words “will you marry me?”and a doodle of yourself kneeling, I can’t believe you!

Oh, and PS: Yes, I will.

Love, ____.”

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

Dear Chanyeol,

I’ll be moving abroad next week. Dad just told me he would be stationed somewhere in Europe. I’m sorry. We wanted to celebrate your 19th birthday together, but I guess I have to break that promise. However, I will write you as much as I can! We will stay friends. Forever, for always. You won’t get rid of me.

Love, _____.

⚜️

Dear Chanyeol,

Okay, I just arrived at the new house. It’s not as nice as our old one, although it’s bigger. But I speak zero Spanish, I mean, except for ¡Hola señor!, but that is the biggest of my capacity. How is life? How is it without the best of the best a.k.a me? It must be boring as hell. Drink some soju for me because they only have some cerveza here. Okay, maybe I know some more than hola.

Love, _____.

⚜️

Dear Chanyeol,

Can you believe it? I ate bubble gum ice cream again! You and I used to share a scoop because YOU (and I, but mostly YOU) always spent your money on these stupid trading cards and so we were broke and had to count every damn won for one damn ice cream. I felt alive. Thinking of you. Please, come to Spain someday. I still don’t know Spanish. It’s been a month. Save me, Yeol.

Love, _____.

⚜️

Dear Chanyeol,

I just read your letter and I won’t answer your goo texts on kakao. Pen pal is better than texting and drunk calling. At least you have to invest some money into communication here. I heard you got a job as a composer. Remember when you wrote this song for that girl from your class and she flat out rejected you? She was a dumb bitch, that song was so damn good. I hope you let some A+ singer sing it someday, it will be the biggest hit for sure. Count me in as a buyer, although it takes like two weeks for the shipping, but some killing anticipation is satanic, yet pleasing.

Love, _____.

⚜️

Dear Chanyeol,

Ah yeah, it wasn’t really finished yet! You mentioned that. But hey that one verse alone had me! It’s been three years since then, but I still remember it very well. Why did you never write a song for me? I feel stabbed. Just kidding, would be cool if you wrote one for me, too, someday. You know, some credit for these eighteen years I stuck with your ass. And I would have done even longer if I wasn’t stuck in Europe. But if you close your eyes, drink three beer and look at some moderate looking girl walking by, it’s basically like I am still there.

Love, _____.

⚜️

Dear Chanyeol,

¡Hola mi amigo! Puedo hablar un poco español por la presente… But seriously, I hate that I have to learn a new language. And they talk faster than you when you tried to rap like Zico. Imagine what their hiphop sounds like? Probably like 2x sped up triple time Eminem rap. Anyway, Dad said that I might [sic!] be able to visit you during the summer! Isn’t that great? Because I think it is. I know you have a job, I have, too, although I really suck at communicating, but I am somehow managing. Let’s meet soon. You still owe me the 3000 won for when I chugged down that warm beer and almost died. I want barbecue, and you and your freshly filled wallet cannot stop me.

Love, _____.

⚜️

Dear Buzz Lightyeol,

You are always so busy. You take eternities and beyond to reply. It’s been three weeks since I sent that letter. Answer me. Also, I booked the flight. It’s only for a week because my boss didn’t think I am worth of more days off, but it’s better than nothing, I guess.

Love, _____.

⚜️

Dear Chanyeol,

It’s okay, you were busy and your handwriting is ugly, so you take weeks to write a sentence. I forgive you. Three weeks till my flight. Fuel your wallet because I will eat a lot! Also! Jongdae became a singer!? I just went through Naver and his face popped up! Tell him that no matter what clothes he’ll wear, he’ll still remain the three-year-old boy who pissed his pants when my Dad played Santa back then.

Love, _____.

⚜️

Dear Chanyeol,

Honestly, fuck that I am in Seoul and my hotel is five minutes away from your apartment. This letter writing game is fun and I’ll sneakily put this in your jacket when you don’t look because I am just that level of ninja. It was a great first day out of seven. I can’t believe you got a balloon with my name on it and brought it to the airport. You are crazy, but I like that about you so much, though. Just stay crazy. Don’t be lame like Kyungsoo. I cannot believe that after eight months all he had to offer to me was a hand shake. Like? What about a hug? Money? Food? Is he broke on feelings and wallet or what? But at least you love me enough to get me a balloon. You’re the best.

Love, _____.

⚜️

Dear Chanyeol,

Okay but I really didn’t expect you to actually pay for the entire beef I ordered. Did you rob a bank? It’s okay, you can share your secrets and money with me. It’s so good to see your stupid face again after so long. It’s amazing how we aren’t so awkward and that I can still knock on your door at midnight with soju and watch Grey’s Anatomy. Why are you always crying, though? You watched the first five seasons at least twenty times omg. Also, I’m laughing. You still haven’t seen the first letter I hid in your pocket. You’re so oblivious, it’s actually cute.

Love, _____.

⚜️

Dear Chanyeol,

I apologize for being so clingy today, although you didn’t seem to mind too much. You are just very tall and even though you have the tendency to look like a child when you grin, puberty really did justice to you and not having seen you for so long made me get hit with that fact as if with a brick. You’re handsome. There. Smile, smirk, grin, I don’t care. I like you. You are cute. You are funny. You bought me food. You are my best buddy. Date me:

↳ Yes [x] No [ ] Maybe [ ]

I answered on behalf of you already. No stepping out. This is a contract for eternity.

Love, your new found girlfriend.

⚜️

Dear Chanyeol,

Good that your taste doesn’t suck as much as it did back then with your old crush. What was her name again? I forgot. I can’t believe I had to literally shove the letters into your hands because you didn’t find them. It’s sad that this is already day 4/7. Like seriously, maybe I should just quit my job and life in Spain. Dad said I am old enough to move out and live my own life. I kinda want that…but I don’t want to leave my old life behind like that. It’s so hard that I have to decide between (eloping with) my boyfriend or my family. I want to have you kiss me everyday, but I can only have this for the next three days. Don’t waste your lips on beer bottles too much. You have some perfectly fine lips to kiss right in front of you.

Love, _____.

⚜️

Dear Chanyeol,

You’ve been my boyfriend for only two days now, but I am damn sure you are the best. Seriously, I never even mentioned going to the sea and what are you doing? You take me to the sea. What can I do? Burn toast and have you almost choke on it. And you dare to say it tasted delicious. Lying is not good, Park Chanyeol (but thank you for caring about me so much, though. You’re a jem with e and a).

Love, _____.

⚜️

Dear Chanyeol,

Baekhyun is third wheeling so hard and he enjoys it. He’s very precious, you found a good substitute for the best friend position. But don’t you tall bitch dare take him for the girlfriend/boyfriend position once I depart tomorrow. I will return and chop your thumbs. Also thank you for having stayed the night. Not in that way, but for just being there. It was nice to wake up to your snoring self and atop your really comfy sweater. It’s very soft and suits you way too well for my own good.

Love, _____.

⚜️

Dear Chanyeol,

You looked so sad when you realized it’s our last day. I’m writing this whilst you are getting me my drink, just in case you’re wondering. Also this handwriting will be hella quick and you might not be able to read everything, but I try to be fast here. Don’t worry, I’ll come back, or you come to me. We will continue to write letters. Maybe I will FaceTime with you, too…if you’re lucky, which you are because I like you very much. Help, I don’t want to leave. I want to stay with you and watch some stupid 2 a.m tv shows and fall asleep in your arms again. There is so much I want to do, but there’s no time for now, which sucks.

Love, ______.

⚜️

Dear Chanyeol,

Ha! I wonder when you’ll find this letter because this is my secret letter that I didn’t place in front of your self. I stole your sweater :) and I don’t intend to return it. So you have to come to Europe to get it back!

Love, ______.

⚜️

Dear Chanyeol,

Okay, I’m back to Europe. Dad asked why I was smiling so much and told him that he’s at fault that I am separated from my future husband and he laughed so much, but he was happy. So don’t worry, he won’t murder you when you introduce yourself to be my boyfriend to him. I mean, it would be crazy if he blew a fuss. He basically was present at your first poop, so…

Love, _____.

⚜️

Dear Chanyeol,

You haven’t answered my last letter yet, it’s only been a few days, so it’s still on the way—consider yourself lucky. Even though I really love sending letters, why am I only now hearing that you are Jongdae’s producer? He has the voice of a god! He better not mess up your masterpieces. But hey, now you have that AAA singer for that song. Oh my, I keep nagging you with it. I’m sorry.

Love, ______.

⚜️

Dear Chanyeol,

Dad saw the letter that just came and he ran upstairs like the biggest moron and kept teasing me. What is he? Twelve? Baekhyun? He was mentioning a surprise, but who knows. My old man has been acting anything close to old currently and behaves like a child, so I can probably only expect some spoiled chocolate cake from him. How is work going? I’m sorry I didn’t take your call yesterday (although when you read this a week has probably already passed). Can mailmen be faster, please? But yeah, I was at work and I already have a strike for having been late twice. I miss you, Yeol. Your sweater began smelling more like me than you, I’m going insane.

Love, _____.

⚜️

Dear Chanyeol,

I saw Jongdae on tv today! And I could have sworn you were that undeniably handsome and tall man in the back. It might already be around a month since my visit to Seoul, but you’ve been having that sassy posture since you were five years old! I see you, Park Chanyeol. Also, Jesus, don’t send food here. It will spoil on the way unless it’s chocolate or something…that lasts longer. But I’m sure your first gimbap tasted amazing when it was still edible. You can cook for me when I visit again!

Love, _____.

⚜️

Dear Chanyeol,

Mom found old pictures from kindergarten. We looked so cute in them, even Jongdae. Back then he didn’t have that shit eating grin like he has now. But you were so cute, cutest baby cheeks alive. It’s so sad that we live like miles and miles apart. I miss you so much! You should come and visit me. I could show you around a little bit.

Love, _____.

⚜️

Dear Chanyeol,

You could have just told me that you would be in a music video, you know. Especially when you are looking like the biggest fuckboi in it and make out with some girl instead of having me find it on YouTube. I don’t know if I should be mad at the fact that you didn’t tell me or because you are doing stuff with that girl you never did with me. But then I tell myself that you probably didn’t choose the theme of the song or the music video. It still hurts. And I don’t know if I’m lying to myself that we work out when we’re so far away from each other. I don’t know. Maybe I just shouldn’t send this letter at all. Congratulations. The public seems to acknowledge you for your looks, acting and your musical talent. You made it. That’s the sunny side to this story, I guess.

Love, _____.

⚜️

Dear Chanyeol,

It’s alright, I’m not mad anymore. I was talking to Jongdae and he said you weren’t comfortable with the situation in the music video, and—even though he is the biggest jokester next to Byun Baekyhun—I trust him on that. You don’t have to apologize. I was just too jealous, I shouldn’t have been. It’s your job, it’s not like you grew feelings for that woman. She was probably not really comfortable either… Let’s just not dwell onto such topic, alright? I passed all my college exams for this term, I’m beat. I was studying so much that I pretty much forget that I was mad at all. You’re so lucky to be a music genius and already have a stable career and a well paid job.

Love, ____.

⚜️

—–

Dear Chanyeol,

I forgot to sent you a letter on your birthday. I’m horrible and I feel miserable. I don’t know how I can even apologize for not congratulating you and not even reacting to your texts and calls. You seemed so worried, but I couldn’t talk to anyone that day. I felt like shit, I just now I feel a little less like shit after I emptied the one or other beer. Chanyeol, it’s my mom. She cheated on my dad and they want a divorce. I’m supposed to be an adult and handle this, but they are my parents. I grew up with the idea of them being the perfect couple, that nothing could get in between them, and I thought we’d be the same. But now? It feels like everything my mom said was a lie. When she said she loved Dad and that we are the most important people for her. It hurts, Chanyeol. And I know you can’t do anything, but I also know that you will try. I don’t know when I will deal with everything better, I just don’t want you to get the wrong idea of me. I like you a lot, Park Chanyeol. It’s just hard for me to take a pen in my hand and write this all down. If you don’t hear from me anytime soon, don’t worry too much alright? I’ll be better.

Love, _____.

⚜️

Dear Chanyeol,

No, just no. You don’t know what it feels like. Your parents are still together, they are not fighting and cheating on each other. They are not feeding you with lies of being together forever and loving each other, okay!? You don’t know what it feels like, and I hope you’ll never have to experience it either because it sucks. It just sucks.

Love, _____.

⚜️

Dear Chanyeol,

I realized after I sent the letter that I was overreacting. I hope this one will make it you on the same day as the one before. I’m sorry, you tried to comfort me. I shouldn’t have unleashed my frustration on you. It’s Mom’s fault and not yours. You’re never at fault, you’re the only one who hasn’t lied to me. You’re one of those people who immediately say what’s up and not hold it in forever till I find out. I value you a lot, Park Chanyeol. I want us to be together forever, unlike what happened to my parents. I want us to do better than them. And I feel like we do even though we are continents apart.

Love, _____.

⚜️

Dear Chanyeol,

I feel even worse about what I said in that bitchy letter. How dare you just show up at my doorstep like this. How do you even have Dad’s number, and how dare he tell you the address. Just kidding, I’m glad he did. Also, why the hell am I writing you a letter when you sit right next to me. This letter game is really out of hand. Let me guess, you want the sweater I stole back, right? But you have to comfort me and go on a date with me first, else I’ll hide it forever. For how long are you staying? Just for the weekend! That’s too short. Okay, I stop this now. This is getting awkward to write.

Love, _____.

⚜️

Dear Chanyeol,

You’re sleeping right now and you look super soft, but you snore so loud that I can’t sleep. Thank you for today. It was nice, everything was. From the date, to well, now. It was my first, but you probably know that, since I was the forever virgin back then. You, too, though! Sehun kept teasing us about it just because he had a girlfriend before you. What a loser. Hey, Chanyeol, I love you. You always do thing for me that no sane person would ever do. Like how back then when I was late for an exam you ate Baekhyun’s horrible cooking just to really look like you were sick…and well, from what I heard of Jongdae, you also puked on Mr. Park’s new shoes.

Love, ____.

⚜️

Dear Chanyeol,

It was good to see you again, and Jongdae called me just now saying where the fuck you are. Did you seriously book a flight without telling your boss, just because I was a devastated mess? Proves again that you’re insane! I don’t know how I even deserve you.

Also thank you for letting me keep the sweater. You were wearing it before you left. It smells like you again. Gosh that sounded cheesy. You’re infecting me with your flowery language, Park Chanyeol! Not that I mind.

Love, ____.

⚜️

Dear Chanyeol,

Why did I decide to study Psychology again? My head is spinning from all the revising I have to do! I just read through all the letters you sent me, I really needed a break. How is it going by the way? I was looking through Naver and I saw that Jongdae is preparing for a comeback? And apparently you are going to produce that album! Write him good songs, his voice is great. Maybe you can sneak yourself into a feature haha. I don’t know much about music, but I know that your voice sounds just perfect and you and Jongdae could really pull off a duet. Maybe get Baekhyun for it, too! He can sing well, although he was always pissing off Mrs. Choi in choir class. But she overlooked everything because he had the best voice and even when he was sick he hit all the notes. Speaking of Baekhyun, he keeps sending me wedding dress pictures and edits our heads on some Google Image wedding pictures. He’s crazy, give him a hug from me.

Love, ____.

⚜️

Dear Chanyeol,

Oh, and PS: Yes, I will.

Love, ____.

⚜️

Dear Chanyeol,

Honestly, it feels so weird wearing the ring and having to explain that it came by the mail. Seriosuly, Park Chanyeol, you could have just done that when you were here to visit me. Maybe it wasn’t really the best of moments, but Jesus, it would be a lie if I’d have said no then, no matter how grumpy and period cramps fueled I might have been. Also, stop Jongdae from sending me memes from We Got Married with our faces on. First Baekhyun and now Jongdae, doesn’t he have something to do? Like, singing for example? And you still haven’t told me anything about Jongdae’s comeback, and neither has he because I refuse to answer to his texts since they are all about “your boy Chanyeol wanna smooch you” and “name one child after me”. He’s ridiculous, but…if we ever have kids and one is a really big idiot with the loudest voice, sure, let’s name him Jongdae.

Love, ____.

⚜️

Dear Chanyeol,

Mom called me today and I at first only wanted to hang up, but in the end I heard her out and met her with her new boyfriend…or more like the affair. I don’t like him, although he was nice to me and she seemed happy, I just can’t befriend with the idea of being all chill with the homewrecker. Is that childish of me, Yeol?

And what am I seeing there? Jongdae spammed me with his teaser pictures instead of memes, can you believe! He said that his comeback is going to take a while though, and that these teaser pictures will probably not be out till a few months. Work some faster haha. I want to listen to the masterpieces you’ve been hiding from me, your fiancee. We shouldn’t have secrets from each other, and with secrets I mean: send me your music. Nah, just kidding, you’re a perfectionist. I’ll patiently wait till Jongdae will send me all the music files the comeback.

Love, ____.

⚜️

Dear Chanyeol,

Sorry for not replying so long! And don’t be confused because of the address, too! Dad is now stationed in the U.K. I finally was able to Spanish and then we’re moving again. I forgot half of the English we had in school, Chanyeol! But just saying, if Jongdae ever plans a world tour, he should come to Europe and the U.K. My personal recommendation is to go to chippie and get yourself saveloy. The best stuff you can get. I sent you a selfie of me at one of these iconic British phone boxes. Even though Spain grew to me, I like it here, too. You should definitely come and visit me.

Love, ____.

⚜️

Dear Chanyeol,

Dad asked if you’d like to come over soon! He actually transformed his old hobby room into…a room just for you. He likes you a lot and he was probably even happier about that cringe proposal via mail than I was. So yeah, you have a room here now, and I’m going to be really honest here: why the heck does your room look better than mine? And it’s bigger than mine! The injustice, I’m his blood and he chooses your sorry ass over me.

But still, Dad has always been like…dangerous when it came to boys. And here he is, waiting till the wedding we have not even planned out yet. We’re still so young and being engaged is great, too. But we’ll marry, right? I mean…you didn’t propose for nothing.

Love, ____.

⚜️

Dear Chanyeol,

Dad got me into soccer, like not the playing one, but just watching. He started liking soccer already in Spain when he supported Atlético like his life depended on it. I wasn’t too interested in it back then, but hey, so many people here are into soccer and after having watched some matches with Dad, it’s actually interesting. I can finally understand Lu Han, I guess. Though not too much on the Real Madrid part?

Tell him he should switch teams. Who needs Real when you have Hotspur or Dortmund? Who needs Ronaldo when you have Son Heung-min and Pierre-Emerick Aubameyang?

Love, ____.

⚜️

Dear Chanyeol,

I just went for the mail and seriously? You bought me a Borussia Dortmund jersey and put your name on it. “I’m the true keeper and not Bürki”, cheesy much? But yeah, you are, Park Chanyeol. You are the one and only keeper, although you’d be the first to hide from the ball when you were the goal keeper.

Love, ____.

⚜️

Dear Keeper,

No, I did not ditch you for Roman Bürki haha. I’m sorry for replying so late, on phone and by letter. Dad and I went for a little vacation in the middle of nowhere—camping and father-daughter bonding, don’t ask—and there was no post office and I had zero internet, so…I’m sorry.

Also, if I won’t reply quickly, I’m currently very caught up with exams. I had to retake some because I moved and it’s all so stressful. I want to do good, so don’t worry too much.

How is everything going with Jongdae? It’s been a while since his last spam, he must be busy, too.

Love, ____.

⚜️

Dear Chanyeol,

Guess who is in England and into whom I ran today? Minseok! He’s actually an exchange student, but just for a couple of weeks. His English is better than mine, I feel offended, but Minseok was always good at everything. I remember how we were all such good friends and Minseok always saved our ass when we caused trouble. Oh God, do you remember when I had such a big crush on him and I confessed to him by letter and I accidentally placed the letter in Baekhyun’s jacket? He kept annoying the shit out of me and I had to pay him way too much snacks to have him shut his big mouth.

Love, ____.

⚜️

Dear Chanyeol,

Oh my, there is no need to be jealous! I only like you, my keeper! Besides, Minseok will be off to Seoul when this letter reaches you, so it’s all good. It was just nice to talk to someone, who I actually know. It was lonely for the first weeks because I didn’t know how to interact with people. How do you get along with people so well, Yeol? Share your secrets!

But I miss you so much! I’m wearing your sweater right now and sit in “your” room. Really, Dad put so much effort into this, you should at least sleep here like once…please?

Love, ____.

⚜️

Dear Chanyeol,

I can’t believe I missed you! My aunt recently moved to Scotland, so I went to visit her there. You should have told me in advance, I’d have met up with her some other day. Dad told me immediately when I cam back. You were literally only there to sleep there once. You could have stayed longer, you know?

But it’s alright, I messed it up. Next time I’ll be there no matter what!

Love, ____.

⚜️

Dear Chanyeol,

Again, sorry for replying so late. I had half of the letter written, but never sent it. So now I’m writing it again. Jongdae was texting me just now and I saw all the messages you sent me. My phone was on silent, ah, I feel so bad. Anyway, Jongdae sent me a mp3 file, some teaser for the title track! I was kind of hoping it would be that song from years ago to be honest. But this one is good, too. Very catchy, I’m proud of you, Park Chanyeol. Your birthday comes up so soon, too! I try to visit you, oh wait, that was actually meant to be a surprise. Though, let’s all be real here, Baekhyun already told you that, right?

Love, ____.

⚜️

Dear Chanyeol,

Promise me to never be mad at me! I may have lied to you. But it wasn’t because I wanted to, it’s just. Nevermind.

Love, a liar.

⚜️

Dear Chanyeol,

It sucks that your birthday always brings more pain to you than happiness ever since I moved away, twice. Surprise, I’ve been trying hard to fight. But I can’t anymore. Back then I didn’t write you for weeks because I was in hospital doing chemo. Also, my aunt never moved to Scotland, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to lie, but I wanted even less for you to worry. It was stupid. I thought everything would be fine. I really did. They told me I was doing well, I was a real fighter. But the tumor was fighting, too. When this letter arrives at yours, at your birthday, I’ll be already…gone…again. And this time I can’t write you anymore. My hand keeps shaking, so my Dad is writing this for me. I’m in hospital again. It’s so white and monotone and everything smells like Kyungsoo’s fabric conditioner basically. Yesterday, I was reading through all the letters you sent me, I even read those stupid messages you sent to my phone. Promise me not to cry. I love you. Just remember that I really do love you…so much. You’re the best person I ever shared bubble gum ice cream with, you are the best composer, best friend, best boyfriend and fiance. Thank you for everything you did for me. Thank you for saving my ass. Thank you for carrying my drunk ass around when I was far away from taking a proper step. Also sorry for having puked on your favorite converse back then. Thank you for loving such a lame person like me. Thank you for being you. Also thank you for having spent money on stamps and perfecting your handwriting to impress me. You didn’t with it, though. But the content did. You are amazing. I wish I could listen to that song you never finished again. I hope you do finish it one day and sing it yourself. Your voice is beautiful. I wish I could have you whisper “I love you” into my ear again. Park Chanyeol, thank you.

Love, _____.

⚜️

Dear _____,

Guess what! I actually lied to you. I’m sorry, babe, haha. The songs I was writing weren’t for Jongdae to sing, I was just working on one of his songs. I am working on his album now, the work I did during all those months was my own album. It will be out on my birthday, when this letter will arrive along with my album. The song I once sang that you liked so much…I finished it. It’s about you, how much I love you. I hope it will be your new favorite song because this is just for you, my love, my stupid little _____.

Love, Chanyeol.

#kwritersnet #chanyeol scenarios #chanyeol fluff #chanyeol angst #park chanyeol #chanyeol fic #chanyeol x reader #pcy #exo scenarios #exo fluff #exo angst #exo imagines #exo texts #exo writing #exo reactions #chanyeol smut #so much soccer in this tho

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mossandstone · 7 years ago

Text

Hello Internet, I’ve had the weirdest day.

Four years ago today, a curly-haired guy kissed me for the first time. Just before that, we’d held hands for a good 20 minutes, not wanting to leave the other’s company just yet. I’d entered myself into something that can most definitely be described as a long-distance relationship- he went to 4 hours away from where I did starting the following February. Nevertheless, we had a fantastic time. Two-and-a-half years later, just after I’d been on a holiday to flippin' Hawaii with his family, he broke up with me. At the time, I was on my own family holiday at Nozawa Onsen in Japan- meaning it all happened over the phone. I was fucking devastated. I've never felt so low in my life. I wasn't expecting it, and definitely was not prepared.

Over the last year-and-a-half (1 yr 8 mths 10 days, but who's counting), I've been dealing with that. At first it was really really hard- I was super in denial, alongside borderline-depressed. It took ages to start healing from that, and I helped many friends through much more difficult break-ups in the meantime. We hung out periodically over that time- when he came up to Syd, when I was living in Melb over summer and he visited family, on a few trips through Canberra. Each time we gelled really well, and it took a lot of mental strength to get over that and remind myself that we couldn't work. That he had ended things, and I needed to respect that.

Over that time I've also been trying to rebuild myself- to find communities I could engage with happily and activities that bring me joy. Overall, I've definitely found quite a few of those, and have enjoyed taking the time to explore how I fit in the world and what I'd like to do. I've even started thinking about what I'd like to do with myself over the next year (I graduate after this semester), and had formulated a few plans based on different contingencies. None of them factored in another person.

This year, he got together with one of his uni friends. I tried studiously to avoid most information on this topic, only letting myself dive in when I felt like I could handle it. I'd built many walls, and they were helping me cope and move forward. Over time, I found that I was happy he was happy, no longer craving the past ever so viscerally. I've tried dating (haha Tinder what a joke) and have slept with a few people. I got with one of my best/oldest friends because it seemed right at the time, before quickly realising it was a huge mistake. Unfortunately, I think that friend has kinda fallen for me (and I'm not entirely sure how to deal with that). I'd found myself in a place where I was not only fine being single, I was enjoying myself. I'd also become heavily engrossed in the Riverdale fandom, and honestly that focus probably helped me take my mind off everything else.

I'm in my Honours year with a thesis due in a little over two weeks. I've been trying to focus my head but haven't been able to get past the mental block that the 'I'm so over uni get me out' mindset generates. Lo and behold, on Sunday night (just as I was writing up some of my methods section) I received a message from him asking if I'd got his letter. He'd sent it at the beginning of last week, a few days before my birthday, so it was strange it hadn't got to me yet. From that moment on, my mind kept wandering, wondering what the hell was in that letter. Is he getting married and wanting to warn me before I found out through someone else? Is he still in love with me? Is he just wishing me a Happy Birthday (something I hadn't had the guts to do two weeks earlier in return)?

It arrived today. I'd left uni early because of a headache and general apathy, arriving home to it stuffed in the mailbox. my heart was racing- what the fuck could this be? Inside were four notepad pages of his handwriting (not the best, but very distinct). I was crying by the end of the first page. I'd just realised this was a sorry letter, a please forgive me letter, an 'I still love you' letter. I cried for a good half-hour. Ugly, overwhelmed, uncontrollable cries. Doggo was very helpful, trying to sit in my lap and give me reassuring licks. I was in a dream-state, not quite able to grasp this was real. He was saying things I've known for almost the last 2 years, and seemed aware and willing to work on them. He was suggesting something I've only dreamt of, never letting myself fully think it out for all that time. To clear my head, I decided I needed to take dog and walk down to a mangled obike I'd found. Both of my very closest friends have their theses due tomorrow, so I knew I didn't want to disturb them, and my other best friend (also his best friend) was at work. So I called another mate, who I've discussed many a love-life difficulty with over the years. He was very supportive of me and said he'd respect whatever I chose to do, but also nudging that he did think we were cute together. I tried to ring my sister, and she rang back on her way home from work. We talked almost the entire way, and she read the letter when she got here. Besides the whole 'you broke my sister's heart and we had to put her back together' thing, her main issue was whether he was still with the other girl. After the mutual best friend called back, I found out they'd broken up a month ago.

So here I am. We're planning on meeting up for coffee (or equivalent) on the weekend. I'm going to take it as it comes, but will be hoping it works out. It'll take a LOT of work, and working through very difficult emotional minefields, but I think I'll be there for it (depending on how the weekend goes). I've been training myself out of these feelings for such a long time, but I think once I let myself feel again we'll be able to begin. I've also gotta work out how to sell this to my friends and family, who all had to bear the brunt last time things went VERY south. Today, it feels like my life turned into fanfiction. Let's wait and see how the real life version goes. Much love, Bec xxx

#what the hell #first love #rekindling #freaking out #real life fan fiction

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schadenfreudefreude-blog · 6 years ago

Text

Two Different Worlds

I was going to the same Catholic private school of our small rural town since I was four years old until I turned sixteen . We always celebrated annually the feast day of our school's patron saint, Our Lady of Mt. Carmel, every 16th day of July. I was born in Cabanatuan, a city near San Jose City, Nueva Ecija, Philippines, where we are residing. San Jose is a beautiful place, with a river, hills, plains, and even an annual onion festival known as Tanduyong Festival. San Josenians hold a cultural show by conducting dance ritual at the streets showing the way of life of the folklore here by planting onions. I spent a happy childhood here, and I was just an ordinary girl. I would look up in the sky full of fluffy clouds or night sky and dreams the dreams of a girl. I used to imagine that I was a Disney Princess, saving and helping the world.

My story begins with something that happened to me when I was ten years old and going to the Catholic private school of our small town. My heart stopped. Maybe, I was maybe nine or ten. Looking back, that's when I began to worry about what other people thought of me and started seeing myself through their eyes. I stopped looking up at the clouds in the day. I stopped looking up at the stars at night. I stopped daydreaming. I stopped being a princess. I tried to please everyone. Some days I lack self-believe and I started letting other people made me into something they wanted me to be. Soon, I began to shut out my own voice and started to listen to the voice of others. I was ten when I learned what my parents' job is. I'm not aware before I was ten because they never really brought it up. My father is a licensed medical technologist, licensed nurse, licensed physician, and licensed surgeon. He passed all of the board exams. He also studied and graduated from his Masterals three years ago. He was the chief of a public hospital. He was workinh for the government for 36 years. And he will retire in his 60, four years from now. And my mother is a registered nurse. I was in my fourth grade when I found out all about this and my point of view changed since then. No one called out my name, and neither did I. My heart stopped and my eyes closed shut. So, like this, I, we, all lost our names and identity. We became like ghosts.

All sorts of sights and smell come back to me, rise up from within me, to touch me with an ache and a blissful shudder, dark streets and bright streets, houses and churches, only one or two famous fast food restaurants, no malls or no high buildings, people's faces, rooms full of warm and homey comforts, rooms full of secrets and of deep fear of ghosts, haunted by Philippine mythology and ghost stories. There is the scent of warm, closed spaces, of dogs, goats, cows and carabaos, of household remedies, carabao's milk and dried fruit. Two different worlds intermingled there; from two opposite poles came the day and the night.

One world was the parental home, but actually it was even narrower, in truth it contained only my parents. On the whole I knew this world well: its name was Father and Mother, it was love and strict rules, education and example. What belonged to this world was gently shining radiance, clarity, and cleanliness; quiet, friendly conversation, washed hands, clean clothes, good behavior. Morning hymns like Cinderella were felt there, Christmas and New Year celebrated. In that world of straight lines and paths leading into the future, there was duty and obligation, bad conscience and confessions, short-term goals and long-term goals, forgiveness and good resolutions, love and respect, wisdom and Biblical proverbs, competence and confidence. You had to keep to this world for your life to be pure, beautiful, and harmonious.

Meanwhile, the other world was there already, right in the middle of our house and completely different: it smelled different, spoke differently, promised and demanded entirely different things. There were serving girls, tradesmen and squattered people in this second world, and ghost stories and scandalous rumors, a richly colored flood of monstrous, tempting, frightening, mysterious things like the slaughterhouse, public market, and the prison, alcoholics and bickering women, cows giving birth and horses with broken legs, homeless dogs and no one to take care of them, and stories of burglaries, murders, kidnaps, suicides. All these beautiful, horrible, wild, cruel things existed all around in the next street over, in the house next door. Policemen and beggars ran around, drunks beat their wives, victim-blaming in cases of rape or sexual assault, people were objectified and bullied, old women could cast a spell on you and make you sick, bands of robbers; this powerful second world welled up everywhere, its scent was everywhere, except in rooms where Mother and Father were. And that was good. How wonderful that here, in our home, there was peace and calm and order, duty and conscience, mercy and love, and how wonderful that all the rest existed too, everything loud and shrill, dark and violent, from which you could escape to Mother in a single bound.

The strangest thing is how these two different worlds touched each other, how close to each other they were! For example, when I was eleven years old, our maid Ate Eddiebell, when she sat with her freshly washed hands resting on the apron she had smoothed down on her lap, ironing our clothes in my room and joining her bright voice to the song in the radio. I always see my scrawl ugly but our maid inspired me to own a notebook and I started improving my penmanship by imitating her handwriting. I got the willpower that I can do anything I want if I work into it. She taught me what music is. She would write song lyrics in her notebook and I find it fascinating. Then, she sings and we both sing the songs in her notebook. Every night, she would tell me stories about her life in Bacolod. I admired how she always smile and she influenced me so much to love dancing, painting, and writing. She was a dancer and she shared to me their hard routine exercises or her love life. She had that warm feeling that my parents never made me felt. She has this life so alien to me. The next moment, in the kitchen or my room, when she told me the story of the little man with no head, or fought with the neighbor women at the butcher shop, she was someone else and part of the other world, and was shrouded in mystery. That's how it was with everyone, most of all myself. Of course, I was part of the bright and true world. I was my parents' child but wherever I turned my eye or ear the other world was always there, and I lived in the other world too, even though it often felt like I didn't belong there, in the spooky realm of fear and bad conscience. At times I even liked the forbidden world best, and often my return to the light, as good and necessary it might be, felt almost like a turn toward something less beautiful, less exciting, more desolate and dreary. And then one day, our maid go back to her home and she never came back to our home. I'm thankful for the light, stories and the truth she shared to me in just a short amount of time.

Sometimes I knew that my goal in life was to turn into someone like my father and my mother: so bright and pure, so superior and harmonious. But it was a long, long way to that goal, and along that way you had to sit quietly in school and study and take tests and pass exams, and all the while the path ran right past the other, darker world, or through it, and it was by no means impossible to stay in it, drown in it. There were stories of lost boys and girls, prodigal sons or daughters, and this had happened to, and I read them avidly. The return to the father, to what was good, was always such a magnificent liberation in these stories. I was perfectly aware that this was the only right and good and desirable outcome; but still, the part of the story that took place among the lost and evil souls was always much more exciting, and, if it were only possible to admit it, it was sometimes actually rather a shame that a lost soul had to repent and be found again. But that was something you didn't say, and didn't even think. It was just there, somehow, as a hunch or possibility buried deep, deep down in your feelings. When I imagined the devil, I could see him perfectly well on the street down the hill, in disguise or not, or at the fair, or in a pub or bar, but never with us in home.

I had one sanctuary, and that was writing, justice, and music. There was a small voice in me when I was seventeen years old that said, "Wake up, girl, and listen to yourself!" But it took me a long time to hear music, writing and law calling my name.

Even after making a decision to shift my course to Communications from Pharmacy, there were hurdles. Most people doubted my capabilities and they thought I am hopeless or I made bad decisions in life. Sometimes, I just wanted to quit.

I think I was very lucky that I didn't give it all up.

I'm sure that I, and we, will keep stumbling and falling. I am still an ordinary twenty-two year old girl. If there's anything I have achieved, it was only possible because I had my groupmates, batchmates, mentors, teachers, instructors, and friends by my side, and because of the love and support of my family.

Like most people, I made many mistakes in my life.

I have many flaws and I have fears. I have anxieties but I am going to embrace myself as hard as I can, and I'm starting to love myself, little by little.

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