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kidotm · 11 months

Text

Not Quite Casual Beginnings

Rating: Mature

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/M + Other

Fandoms: Fallout 3 Fallout - Fandom

Relationships: Charon (Fallout)/Female Lone Wanderer

Word count: 881

Palms to shoulder blades. Bare skin on skin. Mine marred, warwarn, ruined.. Hers soft and inviting. I would long for the times when we would have the opportunity, for the times when she would offer. I waited, not always patiently. Never daring to bring it up myself. Not ever.

It wasn’t every day we touched. Sometimes we would go a week, sometimes more, without as much as a brush. During those times I would crave it near constantly, despite my best efforts to control myself. She didn’t seem to mind either way, and if she did she hid it well. She clearly had other things on her mind, other things occupying her time. Responsibilities, people to deal with.

This frustrated me sometimes. Sometimes it frustrates me all the time. But it wasn’t normal for someone like her to be willing at all, so I kept my mouth shut. I didn't have as many things to occupy my time. I wasn’t used to being permitted such things as ‘free time’ at all. I would guard her room, I would keep an ear out for danger, I would clean my gun, my tools, my armor. There wasn't much else for me to do. She didn't order me to do things when we were here, not ever. When we were in relative safety she would tell me not to hover, as she put it. To stay behind when she went to visit certain people or when she went to bathe. I didn't really consider those orders, though.

The implications of the contract didn’t elude her. It bothered her, I knew that much. I didn’t usually care. Sometimes I did. Sometimes memories would come. Unpleasant ones. Memories specifically relating to that part of the contract..that part of the contract being abused. Myself being misused, mistreated. But when we were like this, it was the last thing on my mind.

The sway of her hips, the movements of her fingers. I watched her when I got the chance, and I got the chance often. I wasn’t as subtle as I once was, she caught me looking fairly often. It was something I never would have done before, not before her. I never would have dared, never would have even been interested. Sometimes she would mock me, tease me. Other times she would smile wryly- smally- warmly- but give no other acknowledgment. I was never scorned for it.

It's nearly night, the sunset is orange out the window. I sit on the edge of her bed. There are papers spread out in front of her on the covers, they look to be letters. They lay forgotten beside us. Her lips are soft, willing. Although my skin isn't as sensitive as it used to be, her’s feel like heaven against my own. She touches me back, holds me, caresses my skin like it doesn’t scare her. Cups my chin, strokes my cheek like she cares for me. I’m not sure this is true, I can’t be sure. She runs her hands over my chest, into my shirt, down my stomach, into the fly of my pants. I brush my hands over her breasts, they hide beneath her thin shirt, only just out of sight. When she kisses my jaw, the sensation goes all around my neck and down my back.

I had never had much experience before her. I had been bound to the contract for all of my adult life. I had been socially awkward as a teenager, and then I never had the chance to seek someone in that way, I had never gotten the time after it was created.

It took me a long time to realize that my feeling ecstatic around her was just the absence of grief. The absence of anger, the absence of hate. In their place; longing, physical want. I was fond of her. I wanted to voice this sometimes. I wondered how she would react. I tried to picture the look on her face when I said the words. I would tell her this willingly, if only she would ask. Sometimes in the middle of our fervor, she would even say that she loved me. Words like this were never exchanged outside of these times. It didn’t bother me. I understood.. or.. I usually understood. There are times when I question myself, there are times that I have my doubts. I try to never let myself think too long on it. What we have is enough, I tell myself, I don't need to go ruining it. Being around a contract holder had never been so easy as this. It had never been so confusing as this, either.

She sits in my lap, curls herself around me. The sun has disappeared from the sky completely now. She closed the blinds on the window, but I can see the nightfall between the cracks. I'm beginning to feel drowsy, my eyes are feeling heavy. I pull my pants back on and she whines a little, gesturing for me to come back to the bed. I give in without a fight. I hold her firm against my chest, nuzzling into her dark hair. She's warm against me. Not as warm as my weapon, but my weapon was no comfort when compared to her.

#fallout 3 charon #charon fallout #charon fallout fanfic #charon fo3 fanfic #fallout ghoul fanfic #ghoul fanfiction #monster lover #monster lover fanfiction #mywrites

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llycaons · 1 year

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honestly my eval was kind of a mess...my precepter kept saying like 'oh I know you're smart so what was going on last week because you can't freeze" and yeah I do learn more slowly than they'd like and I didn't do very well that day and I don't want to make excuses but her teaching style really doesn't work for me...it's not anyone else I'm intimidated by, it's her. but also, I think I might just be stupid? like in general I do okay but there's always so much going on and I don't know if I can do everything alone and keep track of everything I'm supposed to...and then when im scared I get distracted and do worse which is understandable but there WILL be scary and new things in this role and I kind of need to be ready for them 😔 it's just like I feel very overwhelmed in a lot of cases and I've often worried this was a poor choice and maybe I should have aimed lower and gone for a role with less responsibility. also my communication and conflict resolution skills genuinely suck. reading these self-eval standards makes me want to curl into myself. why did they hire me? they didn't see the warning signs? I mean, I know why they hired me (happened to go to a school with a special immersion program wrote a nice letter asking to be included got accepted got on a shortlist for candidates and applied to a hospital that DESPERATELY needed people). I mean I had pertinent experience and I have a genuine passion for this and I threw myself into the interview and cover letter since I wanted it so bad but I feel like crying I don't know if I can do this!!

on the flipside I've seen the people they've hired to work here and some of them I can't believe they haven't been fired. and I've seen new people in my cohort or above really struggle and continue to learn so despite the expectations of the educators I feel like most of us are still learning? also, everyone learns at a different pace...my precepter was really impatient and didn't give me any time to process the info she threw at me and then didn't give me the details I needed, also I was really tired and my brain wasn't working,...this all sounds like an excuse but like I said I kind of need it spelled out. which is definitely concerning but idk how to fix that. ugh, I hate feeling stupid and inadequate

in better news, I finished the day at a procurement case and I felt really comfortable and confident in it. I know these sets, I know the people, I know the case, I know the setup, I know the workflow, etc. please just let me do those from now on 🙏

#I remember being so confident for zero reason when I started #actually no I was mostly very hesitant and frightened of doing the wrong thing so I would do nothing #also my precepter's big piece of advice for me was 'don't be nervous' thanks you've solved it #and like I said. SHE's the one who does it to me #cor.txt

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pbandjesse · 2 years

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It was entirely to hot today. Which made me basically useless. But it wasn't a horrible day. I just wish I didn't have to go back to camp tomorrow. I am not recovered. I hope it's a fun day but I am still a little stressed about it.

I slept alright last night. I woke up a lot. So I wasn't super well rested. But I got up and felt alright enough.

James left me a note that they were biking. But when I woke up they were already home. They were making themself a little bagel.

I got washed up and dressed and felt good about myself. I had a little snack breakfast. Sweetp stole half of my cheese. But whatever.

I was entirely to hot though. I wanted to do something but I did not know what. And then I all of a sudden decided we should go look for the pumpkin lantern I saw on TikTok. And so we should go to a Halloween store and then go to Lowes where I know they sell it.

James said okay. We had their hair cut at 2. So we had a few hours.

We drove out to Towson and went to the spirit that just opened. And it was fun but it's so early in the season that there was a lot of open space. But I enjoyed looking around. Especially at the accessories. I did not get anything but James was fun to walk around with and pretend to be scared with.

We went down the road to the Lowe's next and we found the pumpkin lanterns right away. I was so excited. I asked if I should get two and James said I could either get 2 or find another $10 thing. Like a plant. But they did not have any plants I wanted but I enjoyed looking at the flowers and the Halloween inflatables.

We got our two pumpkin lights. And went to lunch.

We went to Bob Evans. And we were mostly just quiet and scrolling on our phones. I enjoyed my food but was a little annoyed at how the restaurant was nickel and dimeing the people around us, charging $1 for lemon wedges??? It was just very weird. Off-putting.

But the food and company was good. And soon we were finishing up and heading out.

We drove back toward the rotunda to go to the barber there where James had an appointment. We were a little early but that was alright. We hung out in their waiting area. And when they were ready for James I came with to show them the reference pictures and the ideas about blending. And the damage on the front of their hair. Which she said looks like the new growth is a lot healthier and whatever we were doing is helping. So that was good.

I think she styled their hair s little silly, with like a sever part. But once it was dry and I messed it up a little bit looked cute. It's not as long as I wanted but James is a lot happier. So compromise. Also they are still super handsome and I like how much more even the sides and top are so I'm happy with it. And I'm happy they are happy.

During all of this, driving and waiting for James haircut, I applied for a job at the visionary art museum. I got an email alert that they were looking for an art teacher for a grant funded after school program. And it was a quick apply. So I decided that I would go for it. Why not. I sent the resume I had cleaned up also year and quickly wrote a cover letter. Did not read it back. Did find typos after I sent it. But it apparently did not matter because within an hour and a half of applying I had an interview scheduled! For Wednesday! It's a zoom meeting and I am really excited. Like I volunteered at the Walters but I have never actually worked in an art museum before. And this feels like a foot in the door. And I am always looking for new and exciting roles, even if they only last a season. So I am really pleased. It feels good to jump back into it.

After the hair cut we went to the grocery store next. We had made plans for meals for the week and so James was getting things for pastas and enchiladas and other fun things like that.

And then we went home. I had hoped it would actually rain but it never did. It just continued to be to stupid hot. And I tried to do anything. But knitting really hurt my hand and finger, so I am not caught up yet. And then I tried to finish the bears I had been working on but I only got half done before I had to tap out because I was so hot and uncomfortable.

I just gave up fighting and laid in bed with the ac on and just felt so much better so quickly.

So I stayed here. James made pasta for dinner. We are in bed. And I have been watching videos and enjoying my night. I wish I did more stuff. But it was still a good day.

I just packed my backpack for tomorrow at camp it's going to be a long day. So I hope it's not wildly exhausting. Even if it's going to be warm. Thankfully there is more breeze out there then in our apartment. So I shouldn't be as uncomfortable. Now I just need some sleep.

Goodnight everyone. Sleep good!! Have fun tomorrow!

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dvbkie099 · 9 months

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five - welcome to the compound

Seo Changbin x fem!oc

Tags: Gang!AU, TattooArtist!OC x GangMember!Changbin, smut, violence, drugs, swearing, death, characters are not morally good people

Minji didn’t expect much from sleeping with the hot muscle at her local bar. She left first, after all.

Changbin knows her face. She’s a regular of the bar that Hyunjin runs, loves a strong drink, and has some truly beautiful tattoos.

It should’ve been a one-time thing. That was until Minji inadvertently got herself caught in the middle of a gang war by somehow pissing off the wrong person.

| MASTERLIST

It was entirely different, seeing her in her element. Hair braided back and a black surgical mask upon her face. Even with half of her face covered, he got to see her face much closer than he had in the past two weeks.

Everything about the space was so uniquely her, from the burgundy leather of the tattooing bed, the dark grey of the walls, the floating wooden bookshelves with old classics, the framed sketches on the walls, the lingering smell of mahogany and whiskey that carried throughout the shop, and the playlist echoing softly throughout the room consisting of Rina Sawayama and Wet Leg.

It was awkward lying shirtless in front of her, but she hadn't commented or reacted out of the ordinary. It was strange for him to feel this way. He was confident in his body, why wouldn't he be, he was not named 'The Enforcer' for nothing.

"You still feeling good?" She asked, picking up her tattoo gun to clean it and swap the black ink to red.

He tried not to think too much about her warm hand on his cold chest.

"Yeah."

"Do you want a blanket at all? Your body temperature dropped." She offered.

"That sounds great." He said, "You don't need to check on me so much."

"I kinda do," She hummed grabbing a light grey knit blanket off of a dresser and dropping it on his chest, "This is your first tattoo, and men, in general, tend to have a worse reaction."

"So I've heard." He spoke, adjusting the blanket

"Do you want any other tattoos? I'm going in with the red now."

"Eventually yeah. It's just been a safety risk beforehand for us, so that's why none of us have tattoos."

"You guys are pretty strong on security. Most artists don't care whether or not the money we get paid was gained from bad blood."

"Well, we were being extra careful after everything went down. Didn't know who possibly could be involved with whom."

"Makes sense."

They sat in silence for the rest of the session, and only when she was applying the second skin to his pectoral.

"You tattooing anyone else today?"

"No, I'm doing two at a time. I'm getting Jisung and Minho tomorrow."

"Care for an official tour of the building?"

She glanced at him, as she began to clean up.

"Sure. Do you have permission to give me a tour?"

"I don't need permission, I'm Chan's right hand."

She raised an unconvinced eyebrow at him.

"Okay, Chan gave me permission."

"That's what I thought." She grinned, "You can sit up and put your shirt back on."

He got up, grabbing his t-shirt but not putting it on, instead walking over to the mirror and admiring his first ink.

The logo they had decided on from the many different logos and iterations was rather simplistic. An outline of a circle in black, with the letters 'SKZ' written in the center in a rather scratchy font. Only the 'K' in the center was a bright cherry red. Unlike the last gang tattoo she had done, the guys pretty much all wanted them in different spots, and as such, she had eight stencils of two different sizes.

Chan and Changbin were one of two pairs, both getting theirs on the right pectoral. Jisung and Minho, the other pair, hence why she was tattooing them back-to-back, both wanted them on their left deltoids. Hyunjin wanted his on the back of his right hand, which Minji was still unsure of the reasoning given that Hyunjin always wore gloves whenever he was around people other than the guys, and recently, her. Jeongin was wanting his on the side of his left ankle, which she thought suited the shy man. Felix was also getting it on his ankle, but the right one instead. Lastly, Seungmin had picked the inside of his right wrist, mimicking one of her tattoos.

By the time she had finished cleaning and putting away her equipment, and had ditched her mask and gloves, Changbin was leaning against a bare portion of the wall, arms crossed over his chest and watching her.

"Are you going to keep staring at me or are you going to show me around?"

"What do you prefer?" He teased, that stupid smirk reappearing on his face.

Scoffing, she smacked the side of his chest that she hadn't tattooed as the passed through the door. She heard him chucking as he followed her through the employee's access into the rest of the building. Only when she had reached the backdoor towards the alleyway of the building did she turn to look back at him.

"Are you going to show me around or not?"

"As you command. So you're familiar with the first-floor back hallways between your shop and the Serpent Lagoon. The rest of the second floor is full of decoy rooms, in case a guest wanders off. The third floor also has some decoy rooms, much like the one you've been in before..."

His voice trailed off, his mind going to the fateful night.

"The fourth floor is where the actual rooms start happening," Chanbin explained, as he pushed open a seemingly benign supply closet door.

The swanky, jazz club interior of the early floors disappeared into a modern interior design, the carpet giving way to hardwood flooring and the walls now covered with pricier artwork instead of artwork she would've seen in a nice hotel.

"The fourth and fifth floors contain our condos." Changbin explained, "Hyunjin, Jeongin, Felix, and Jisung all live on this floor."

He guided her to a lobby of sorts, with a swanky elevator. He pointed out the four black doors on the floor, unlabelled but each door instead holding a symbol on it.

"What do the symbols mean?"

"You'd have to ask them. But they live on the floor in alphabetical order from right to left. Word of warning though, if you come around here, I wouldn't just knock or barge into anyone's rooms. We're all pretty particular about our personal spaces here. Jeongin and Minho are the most so. If you're going to go into anyone's apartment, the best space is Felix's apartment, unless you are allergic to common baking ingredients."

"I'm not."

The two boarded the elevator, going up a floor. When they stepped into the lobby, it was the same as the previous floor, with four doors.

"Myself, Minho, and Seungmin live on this floor, plus there's an unused condo we use for guests or storage."

"Where does Chan live?"

"He's one floor up," Changbin said, nudging her back in the direction of the elevator. "His condo is special, as the elevator opens directly into the house. Because it takes up the entire floor, we tend to use it as a communal space. We're having dinner there tonight if you want to join in."

"Sure thing." Minji said, "So what's on the next floor?"

The elevator door opened again, now on the seventh floor. Minji was completely in awe at the sight of it, stepping out of the elevator before Changbin even said anything.

"I think you know." Changbin chuckled.

The entire seventh floor was one massive laboratory, and by god it was beautiful. It was filled with the best equipment money could buy. It was similar to the senior lab at SNU, and she found herself itching to create and tamper.

"Minji!"

The woman tore her eyes away from probably the coolest dissecting station she had ever seen, landing instead on the smiley form of Jeongin, clad in a lab coat and goggles, approaching him, Seungmin trailing behind him.

"What are you two doing here?"

"I'm giving her a tour."

"Are you staying for dinner?" Seungmin prompted, looking at Changbin in a way Minji refused to comment on or even acknowledge.

"I am." Minji said, "I wasn't aware that you had lab experience."

"My job is Information, but outside of that I tend to work in the lab." Seungmin said, "I love learning, and while I hold a degree in data analysis, my minor was in biochemistry."

"Is that how you and Jeongin met?"

"No, I didn't go to SNU." Seungmin said, "You went there though, right? Jeongin mentioned it."

"Yeah, I have a degree in biotechnology. I started medical school like Jeongin but dropped out because I realized it wasn't for me."

Jeongin gasped, "You didn't tell me your pre-med was biotechnology! I haven't had anyone to rant about the tumor-detecting sensor bacteria!"

Changbin cut her off before she could speak again, "You can steal her another time for a nerd rant, but I know Chan wants those tests done before dinner and we have a tour to finish."

Amidst the whining from Jeongin and Seungmin's amused smirk, the pair of them disappeared back into the elevator as Changbin punched in for the next floor.

"Why didn't you let me tour the lab?"

"Because that's Jeongin's specialty, and knowing how you seem to operate, you could spend an entire day touring every nook and cranny."

She couldn't even be annoyed at him, instead simmering in silence as they continued their tour. The eighth and ninth floors were in an atrium, similar to the club, the eighth floor was mostly covered by a large training ring, while the ninth floor had a multitude of fitness machines. The far wall of the eighth floor contained a wall of targets, the area walled off by bullet-proof glass, making it the most sophisticated shooting range she had ever seen. She also noted that it was the first set of floors that did not have any windows. Even Jeongin's lab had windows, even if they were tinted.

It was the tenth and final floor that took her off-guard, a stunning ballroom with floor-to-ceiling windows, crystal chandeliers and the richest of hardwood floorings. At the back wall sat a bar somehow more luxurious than wooden bars within the club.

"How often do you guys use this room?"

"Not often," Changbin hummed, "But since we are the largest gang in South Korea, we tend to host annual large parties for the other gangs we are allied with. There's one coming up in three months. If you are interested, and if Chan allows it, you could attend it."

"I would like that." Minji said, "There are some people I haven't seen in over a year that I'd like to see again."

"People that were affiliated and allied with GOT7?" Changbin asked.

"Yeah. Am I correct in assuming that you kept those contacts?"

"Yes. We trained alongside many of them, and worked with a lot of them." Changbin said, watching her as she inspected the room. "Are there any people in particular?"

"There's Younghyun of course, and Chaeyoung, who was my first apprentice. Hyunwoo was my mentor. And Jungkook too, was an apprentice of mine as well. There's Chaeyeon too, but she's probably still abroad on her mission."

"Wow, you are well connected," Changbin said, following her as she wandered back to the elevator.

"I'm a likeable person I guess, and the guys made sure to introduce me to people." Minji explained, "What's left to see?"

"There's the basements left," Changbin said, "If you're interested and want to get back into your old lifestyle, I'm sure Chan would be happy to have you work as a social bridge between us and other groups."

"I'll think about it. I have conditions though, that I will not budge on." Minji said, "How many basements do you have?"

"Reasonable." Changbin said, "We have two. One of them you've seen half of, as it's the parking garage. The other half is our side of the parking garage, which you'll have access to once Felix finishes adding your vehicle to the security scanners."

Their side of the parking garage wasn't much, truth be told, just containing a nice repair/maintenance station and a solid collection of vehicles.

"Outside of the training grounds, you're most likely to find me here," Changbin said, eyes clinging to her frame as admired a Multistrada. "I do mechanic work when I can."

"Were you one before all of this?"

"I was."

"Cool. What's the last basement?"

"That would be the insomnia zone."

She thought he was joking, but he was spot on with the description. The final basement was the smallest area, but Changbin was quick to explain that it was due to the extra fortifications around the level due to the importance of the area. This floor contained a massive server room, at which the centre was a room sectioned off by glass painted with neon lines that emulated opening credit artwork for a sci-fi anime. Within the glass-encased room was a gamer's dream room, though the true purpose of the room was certainly not for that.

"May I present the insomnia zone, which is properly known as Felix's office, though Seungmin also has a desk. You're likely to find the younger members down here frequently, as it's almost impossible to pull them away from their babies." Changbin explained, "When it is not being used for work, it's also a top-of-the-line gaming space if you're into that stuff."

"I'm not, but I'm familiar enough to see the quality of the space," Minji said, chuckling at the full fridge stocked with meal-prepped dishes and energy drinks. "If the younger guys are impossible to pull away from here, then why isn't anyone out here?"

"Felix is the only one allowed to help Minho when he's cooking, so that's where he is. We saw Seungmin and Jeongin earlier, so Jisung is likely somewhere else." Changbin explained, as they finally exited, "Probably showering before dinner. Speaking of, Minho's just called everyone to dinner, so we should head up to Chan's place."

"Do you know what we'll be having for dinner?"

"No clue, but it'll be good."

"How so?"

"It's Minho's cooking, it's always good."

"Always?"

"So long as Seungmin doesn't fuck with it? Yeah."

"How often does he do that?"

"More than you think."

#skz #stray kids #changbin x oc #dvbkie099 #cigarette daydreams

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annoyingreminder · 1 year

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10 December 2022

It ended today - the situationship.

For 8.5 months, it was going well. The supporting each other, the constant texts and calls, the communication. I wanted a relationship, but didn't ask for it because I know in the situation he's in, it's not a priority. Plus, I wanted to meet in the near future to go on dates first. So it was all good.

Then he went to Turkey for a two-week film project. Man, was I elated for him! Getting out of the country that's in a dire state must've felt like a deep breath of fresh air. All expenses paid, he gets to explore a little, eat delicious Turkish food, and work on a film project that is a great experience and gained a good network.

Then he went back to Russia. Back to helplessness. It must've felt (and still feels) like getting a taste of freedom, only to have it taken away. The constant fear of getting drafted, the uncertainty of the future (literally of the next minute). As much as I can only imagine how it feels, I'm not feeling it per se, and it must feel even worse.

As he started distracting himself with work and chores, he also started distancing himself from... me. Once-a-day texts became once-every-other-day. No good morning or good night texts. No calls for weeks.

I spoke up and asked what was going on. He's back in his shell like he was a few years ago. He didn't want to say what's on his mind and told me not to be pushy. It's just how men and women deal with problems - women want to talk it out, to get it off their chest; men want space and to figure things out on their own. While I know that, I can't help but feel extremely excluded.

I'm tired of missing him and telling him I miss him. I miss him very much. Not just the physical him which I last saw 4 years ago, but also the virtual him that talks to me and have hope to work things out. But I decided to stop saying it because I feel it would only burden him. And he's got enough on his plate.

I no longer want to try to understand him or figure out what's going on in his mind because he is not mine to solve. I shouldn't psychoanalyse. I shouldn't come up with my own theories and could be's, should be's. If anything, he'll tell me as it is.

I decided I deserve someone who wants me and is willing to share his issues with me, and want to work things out with me. To go through life, as tough as it is, with me. I can't be waiting for 4 days just for him to read and reply to my texts. If you like me, wouldn't you want to talk to me?

He's not wrong from where he's at, and neither am I from where I'm at. It's just... bad timing.

Everything is out of my control. I can't help him. I can't visit him. And that frustrates the hell of me, as someone who finds all ways to get what she wants. This time is different. This time, I couldn't move mountains just to see his face and give him hugs.

My hands are tied.

Maybe it's God's way of stopping me because it's just not in His plan. I'm ready to fork out money (which I have limited) for the entire process from invitation letter to visa to flight tickets. But something as simple as travel insurance for visa application, I just can't obtain. None of the insurance companies in Malaysia covers Russia due to the war. So I literally can't apply for a visa.

Knowing his top love language is Acts of Service, I imagined surprising him at his home, then going to the apartment he's been working on to help him with the DIYs, cooking together, and such.

But I can't.

I thought he still had hopes of meeting and working things out... at least that's what he said. But... his actions don't comply.

I've been anticipating going on dates with him. We have plans - ice skating and cycling, having our favourite bubble tea drinks and shawarma. It sounds amazing to me.

But I guess I won't ever get the chance to anymore and it really hurts.

My friend said there's no relationship to begin with. While that is true, a lack of status does not mean there's no feelings involved. One can't just decide to move away when everything was going fine, no explanation, just because they "don't owe the other person anything cz there's no relationship to begin with". Bullshit.

Anyway, I think it's for the best. For me and for me, that we stop talking. I wanted to meet and go on dates and to figure us out, but none of these are happening anymore. And I don't want replying to my texts to be an obligation of some sort. I want him to actually want to text and talk to me, because I'm important. I want emotion and feelings. I want good times and tough times, to go through them together.

All those nights I used to cry because of work, he was always there for me. My quitting of job and travelling, he was happy for me. My life dilemmas, he was always hearing me out and supportive.

I wanted to be there for him, but he wouldn't let me.

So I decided to give him space. After all, I don't think he wants to text or talk to me. I'm only a nuisance and a reminder of something too far to reach. Something that is just a fairytale, not real life.

I deleted Telegram, the app we use, so that I won't be tempted to reread past messages, rewatch circles he sent. I don't think he as even read my text I sent 5 hours ago, maybe in 3 days time he will.

I think then he would have a breather, and lesser weight on his shoulders.

What I've never told him though, is how much I love him. Because I wanted to only tell him once we've gone on dates and decide we actually like spending time together in person, get into a legit relationship, then tell him those words. I didn't want to carelessly say it, especially when he doesn't feel the same way.

I'm glad I didn't, it would only stress him out even more. I'll get over it eventually. At least I've taken the first step.

He calls me "baby", "sweetie", and "sunshine". I call him "baby" and "squishy". I can't imagine him calling someone else those. But it's inevitable.

He'll always be my squishy though. And I pray life gets better for him soon.

But today... today has been hard for me, and it'll only get harder for awhile.

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thingsandtrichotillomania · 2 years

Text

Quarterly Update

I'll try and remember what I can.

The dentist's appointment was okay. I was anxious the entire time. They said I have 5 cavities that need to be filled. I still haven't gotten an appointment for that just because I was in the process of getting new insurance during that time. I have no excuses now. Just scared. I should do it before August though.

Where I left off job-wise is that I had a Zoom interview for a Mental Health Tech job. I did that and it went well, and we set up an in-person interview, which also went well. They couldn't hire me until I was 21 and the interview was on April 12th. So they had to wait till the end of April. And I told them I'd like to wait till after graduation so I'm completely available. They were fine with that.

All that being said, it was radio SILENT even AFTER graduation. It took me showing up on a Monday in June I think to ask what was going on since I had no calls and no one would call me back. They said they had tons of applications when I showed up and were making the best choice, so it would take a bit.

Well, less than a week later they offer me a PRN shift. Meaning I would only have 3 or 4 shifts a month to cover other people's shifts. I took it anyway even though it wasn't ideal because it meant I would have to stay at Pizza Hut. And I would have to call in if the PRN called me in. BUT they sent me all the things, I set up my references and everything. Set up a drug test.

This is where it goes south. I hadn't seen my ID since graduation (I didn't lose it there, I had it home with me) and you need that for a drug test. So I panicked and showed up at the place to get an ID and they were packed. They didn't have any appointments until the end of June and it was the beginning of June. Orientation was in the middle of June and I needed the DT to go to that. So defeated, I called MH job and told them that. They said no worries and they could push my orientation to the middle of July. I was UPSET. I had my interview in early April and wouldn't be starting till July now and it wasn't even a full-time position. But again, I took it anyway.

Flash forwards to about two weeks ago from now. Eric suggests that I look for full-time work. I agree since I really hate Pizza Hut and want to leave. I'm beyond burned out. So he looks for me and suggests the school system nearby. I apply for a few Teaching Assistant jobs as you don't need an education degree, just a degree. Lo and behold they call and set up an interview for Tuesday morning (7/21). That goes extremely well and they hire me on the spot. (an official hire, no strings attached unlike the last one which was a little my fault but I digress). I get my yes email literally 2 hours after leaving and here I am. Now waiting for HR to get ahold of me so I can start getting into their system.

Meaning I am going to be a Kindergarten Teacher's Assistant starting in August. Who would have thought? It gives me an opportunity to work with kids. I'm thinking about being a child psychologist so this is good work. And they said they'll pay for most of my master's to go into education since you have to be a teacher first before you can be a school psychologist. But I am going to work here for a year or two and then go from there.

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

So that's the dentist and the job. As for moving, we are settling for a 2 bedroom in this same complex. It's more space and it's temporary. Gives me a chance to start a full-time job and him time to build credit for a house. Hopefully, we are only there for a year but who knows.

I'm not sure where I was T wise on my last post. I had my endocrinologist appointment on May 2nd. Everything went well, they took blood. Things came back within maybe 2 weeks-ish. Then my therapist and I made a letter at some point to send to them. They never got it I guess but she was gone for surgery so I had to wait till she got back. They finally got back to me Tuesday (the same day as the interview) and said they're putting in the order for it. The pharmacy was out but they received it yesterday afternoon after work so I'm picking it up today. I'm going to need a 2nd post about my feelings bc this is already so long.

But I think that's most of what you've missed. I had a huge falling out with dad that I sort of started but I was fed up. So I'm avoiding talking to him at this point. The occasional I love you texts are being ignored because it's pointless. Have a convo with me if you want to talk to me. But I digress.

June 23rd, 2022

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beepboop358 · 3 years

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A Prom in S4 Theory & Music Coding Predictions

Some leaked set pics indicate that there MAY BE a junior/senior prom at Hawkins High, which they are calling the "Lover's Ball". It's unclear if this prom will be included on screen, or if it will just be mentioned as an event coming up at Hawkins High because this flyer could just extra set decor. Regardless if the prom happens on screen or not, there will probably be some tension about 'who's asking who' to the prom that we will see in s4. Given that this picture was just leaked a few weeks ago, it probably falls closer to the end of the season sequentially.

Having a big school dance in s4 is suspiciously close to how they had the Snowball scene in s2. This would certainly follow the even/odd season patterns, (and actually add to the list of the patterns), which kind of makes me think we will see this prom on screen, or at the very least it will be mentioned in the course of the season.

The Duffer Brothers love Steven King and reference his work and especially 'IT' a lot in the show, but they haven't done anything with Carrie yet so maybe we will get a Carrie moment this season at the prom...

Carrie was on the video store fridays movie inspiration board for ST4.

At the "Lover's Ball", there will be definitely be some music coding relating to Byler. Since music coding is kind of a key thing in the show, I've been rifling through 80's songs to try and find some that may fit with s4's themes/character storylines (and I may do a seperate post about that later), but for this post I'm just gonna focus on what they might use at the prom for relating to Byler.

Since the season is most likely going to take place in 1986, I only selected songs that had a compatible release year so it would be historically accurate. (these songs would also be great for a byler playlist!)

Some strong contenders for the songs that might play at the prom to reference Mike and Will's relationship could be:

"True Colors" by Cyndi Lauper (1986)

This song is honestly too good of an option for them not to use. I'm reallllyyy crossing my fingers for this one.

It's hard to take courage In a world full of people You can lose sight of it all And the darkness inside you Can make you feel so small

"And I see your true colors Shining through I see your true colors And that's why I love you So don't be afraid (don't be afraid) To let them show your true colors True colors are beautiful (you're beautiful, oh) Like a rainbow Oh oh oh oh oh like a rainbow"

If this world makes you crazy And you've taken all you can bear You call me up Because you know I'll be there

"Heaven" by Bryan Adams (1984)

This first verse is literally just the story of Byler... 😭 The rest of the song applies but that verse verse is just sooooo accurate. (I'm crossing my fingers for this one too)

"Oh thinkin' about all our younger years There was only you and me We were young and wild and free Now nothing can take you away from me We've been down that road before But that's over now You keep me comin' back for more

Baby you're all that I want When you're lyin' here in my arms I'm findin' it hard to believe We're in heaven And love is all that I need And I found it there in your heart Isn't too hard to see We're in heaven

Oh once in your life you find someone Who will turn your world around Bring you up when you're feelin' down Yeah nothin' can change what you mean to me Oh there's lots that I could say But just hold me now 'Cause our love will light the way"

"Take My Breath Away" by Berlin (1986)

This song is on Will's Spotify playlist, and I thought it could also be used at the prom since it's a romantic song. I see it as an 'entrance to the prom' moment song, almost like a 'first look' - like the Mike and El moment at the snowball when she first walks in, but with Mike and Will this time. I think the lyrics clearly hint to this kind of 'first look' moment as well.

"Watchin' every motion in my foolish lover's game On this endless ocean, finally lovers know no shame Turning and returning to some secret place inside Watchin' in slow motion as you turn around and say...take my breath away"

Watchin' every motion in this foolish lover's game Haunted by the notion, somewhere there's a love in flames Turning and returning to some secret place inside Watchin' in slow motion as you turn my way and say...take my breath away"

"In The Air Tonight" by Phil Collins (1981)

This song was originally meant to be included in the snowball scene from s2, but it ultimately was not used and "Every Breath You Take" was used for this scene instead. Since it was intended to be a part of the s2 dance, that's why I think it may be used at the prom this season. (you can read the scripts on 8flix)

——— I forgot to include this explanation originally BUT, I think this song might be used to show some anger/resentment between the two, and to show a decent amount of tension, depending on their development this season. Like maybe Mike is kind of leading Will on in private by continuing to initiate intimate scenes between them, but in public Mike is still trying to put on his “straight boy act” and kind of being a jackass about it, and this song could be used to show the tension between them that has caused.

"And I've been waiting for this moment, for all my life, (Oh lord)

Well, I was there and I saw what you did I saw it with my own two eyes So you can wipe off that grin, I know where you've been It's all been a pack of lies.

Well I remember, I remember don't worry How could I ever forget It's the first time, the last time we ever met But I know the reason why you keep this silence up

No you don't fool me The hurt doesn't show, but the pain still grows It's no stranger to you and me"

"In Your Eyes" by Peter Gabriel (1986)

Some of the lyrics in this song just SCREAMS byler, just look at the 1st, 2nd and 4th paragraphs. I would be suprised if they didn't use this song in either s4/s5.

Love, I get so lost sometimes Days pass and this emptiness fills my heart When I want to run away I drive off in my car But whichever way I go I come back to the place you are

All my instincts, they return The grand facade, so soon will burn Without a noise, without my pride I reach out from the inside

In your eyes The light, the heat (in your eyes) I am complete (in your eyes) I see the doorway (in your eyes) To a thousand churches (in your eyes) The resolution (in your eyes) Of all the fruitless searches (in your eyes)

Love, I don't like to see so much pain So much wasted and this moment keeps slipping away I get so tired working so hard for our survival I look to the time with you to keep me awake and alive

"Heroes" by David Bowie (1975)

David Bowie was bisexual. A cover of his song “Heroes” is used in the show twice already, sung by Peter Gabriel. The song plays when they pull Will's fake body out of the water in season one and Mike cries in his Mom's arms, with some very queer-coded lyrics in the background, and after Hopper's letter in s3 (which is very Byler-centric)

"I will be king. And you, you will be queen 'Cause we're lovers, and that is a fact. Yes, we're lovers, and that is that. Though nothing will keep us together. We could steal time just for one day We can be heroes forever and ever. What d'you say? I, I wish I could swim, like dolphins, like dolphins could swim I, I can remember (I remember) Standing by the wall (By the wall) And the guns shot above our heads (Over our heads) And we kissed as though nothing could fall (Nothing could fall) And the shame was on the other side. Oh, we can beat them forever and ever. Then we could be heroes just for one day We're nothing, and nothing will help us Maybe we're lying, then you better not stay But we could be safer just for one day"

I just thought the above songs might be some highly likely possibilities given that they fit the year of the s4 and also make references to not only love, but the idea of hiding, pain, shame, longing, etc., and can make some (partially stretching here) references to other things in the show such as:

RAINBOWS and TRUE COLORS, SHINING THROUGH (rainbows imagery is always associated with Mike & Will in the show and a is symbol of lgbtq+ pride, True Colors shining through = who you really are on the inside finally coming out)

IF THIS WORLD MAKES YOU CRAZY ("crazy together", "only love makes you that crazy" and references the "world" motif in the show)

YOUNGER YEARS, ONLY YOU AND ME, YOUNG, WILD AND FREE (references "not wanting things to change" and wanting "to make things go how they were" part in Hopper's letter, and the "But we're not kids anymore" comment during the Byler fight)

ENDLESS OCEAN and SWIM, LIKE DOLPHINS (references water's significance in the show)

FLAMES (Will in front of the burning car in s4 teaser?)

LIES and LYING (Mike lying to El about how he feels)

INSTINCTS RETURNING, FACADES BURNING, WITHOUT MY PRIDE, I REACH OUT FROM THE INSIDE (Mike's feelings for Will are his instincts, the facade is the act he put on in s3 to seem straight, burning could reference Will & fire, and I think the last 2 lines of that 2nd verse reference vulnerability- perhaps in an apology/confession)

I GET SO LOST (confusion about his sexuality, feeling lost without the other) and SO MUCH WASTED TIME (known each other since kindergarten but were unaware the other felt the same way/was dealing with same things, they could have been even closer)

KINGS and QUEENS (the d&d game mike wrote where he has king Tristan give him a medal in s1)

STEALING TIME (references "turning back the clock, to make things go how they were" part in Hopper's letter and the time theme in s4 and time is central to the s4 plot)

AND WE KISS - AND THE SHAME (references the shame they both feel about being gay since it was so stigmatized in the 80's)

Byler @ Prom Possibilities:

If Mike and Will did dance together at the prom, they will probably get bullied because they live in a small conservative town. They will probably either run out, upset, or Eleven will step in to protect them which could lead to the Carrie moment.

Or Mike and Will will not dance together in the actual dance room, but instead sneak off to somewhere else in the school and have a private Byler dance moment where they can't be teased and it's just them together.

OR Mike and Will are still acting weird at this point in the season because neither of them is communicating what needs to be said out of fear, or one of them has confessed or done something to indicate how they feel, but the other hasn’t so everything is weird between them. There would be lots of tension from this and we would get lots of longing looks and adoring moments between the two of them from the sidelines. (I think this one is the most likely)

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siimjaeyun · 3 years

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blue bag- jay park

genre: fluff, angst, bad boy au

tw: street violence, mentions of gangs

-------

Jay's reputation at Belift wasn't exactly a secret to most people. The loose uniform with the leather jacket, covered bruises, and exposed tattoos were noticeable to anyone who bothered to pay attention.

Most people would like to assume to not judge him by his appearance, but his character matched it to a tea. He never bothered to give anyone the time of the day, much less even look in their direction. The only people who received such privileges were his closest six friends.

Or anyone who dared to cross his path- including the slight punches he's thrown at the occasional classmate.

But people couldn't see behind his intentions. Like the time he almost beat one of uppers to a pulp when they tried picking on jungwon his first year. All good intentions.

On this fateful day, the teacher had thought a slight change would mix things up. Instead of placing Jay in the back by himself like usual, he placed him right beside you.

"Hi Jay!" Your warm welcome startled him to say the least. Sure, he was used to love letters by other girls, but you didn't really look at him that way.

He stayed silent and placed his head back onto the desk. At the end of class, you bid him goodbye and walked out with your friends who seemed to tattle over him almost immediately.

-------

After yet again another argument with the rivaling gang leader, he finds himself cornered in the back of an alley way. Maybe it wasn't the smartest idea to think you could fight five men at once.

Tired, and out of breath, he's barely holding onto himself before there's a final blow to his lower stomach, collapsing onto the ground before him.

The men are about to approach him, this time, aiming towards his back, but retreat at the sounds of a siren.

"Here, hurry! They might come back." He looks up and finds it's you, carrying a bag in one hand and reaching out towards him with the other.

"Get lost." Jay, who is too stubborn to ask for help, attempts to get up before his knees give up on him.

"You can't walk. Stop being a bitch and let me help you." You swing his arm over your shoulder, and pull him up, guiding him towards the exit of alley way. At the closest convenience store, you rest him on a bench, bringing a towel to his face to wipe off the blood from his brow and lip.

"How did you see me?" He barely manages to ask.

"I didn't know it was you until I saw your face, which is very beat up by the way." He observes quietly and patiently waits for you retreat the towel from his face, slowly admiring the way you move your eyebrows while humming a small beat.

“I’m done. I’ll call a taxi to take you home so you can finish up. I’m going to assume this isn’t the first time you get beat up.” Jay, snapping back to reality, stands up quickly and blocks your view of the street.

“I can manage. Now go home.” He nods towards the direction of the grand city.

“You can barely walk. Either I take you home, or text someone to come pick you up.” Jay immediately takes the second option, and searches quickly for his phone before realizing he must of left at it home.

“Go ahead, call the taxi.” He mutters under his breath. The bright lights signal to him that he has arrived, and in silence, you drop him off, and leave, not letting Jay even look back and say a quick ‘thank you.’

-----

If Jay didn’t know any better, it’s almost as if nothing had occurred yesterday. He’s still wearing his black mask to cover up his bruises, but you walked in with a smile and the same welcome from the past two weeks.

Usually, he would turn the other way or not even bother to look at you, but his slight nod was reassurance enough.

At the end of class, he was almost the last to leave, given that he had woken up from napping the entire class. Rather than seeing the empty room he was used to waking up in, he saw you again in front of him, holding a blue bag.

“Here. Eat well okay?” You left the bag onto his desk and walked out again before he could respond. He stuffed the bag into his backpack and went towards the lunch room he was used to meeting his friends in.

“Jay’s late and beat up. What a surprise.” Sunoo’s snarky comment doesn’t catch him off guard, and instead pulls out the blue bag from his backpack and rests it on the table.

“Oh? Jay brought lunch? Quick, let’s rate his cooking skills.” Before Jay can react, Heeseung had already snatched it from the table, pulling out a Tupperware with a sticky note on top.

“Who’s y/n? And why did she call you a loser?” Heeseung asks, opening the container to a bento box.

“No one, now give it back.” Jay takes back the container, almost admiring the contents inside.

It was the first time his heart began to take notice of you.

-----

Everyone was quickly suspicious about Jay’s relationship with you. It all started with him publicly going to you and thanking you for the food. Then it was the constant good mornings when you would welcome him at the beginning of class. Then it was the morning coffee, and walking you to class in the morning. He was practically stuck to you when he wasn’t with his friends.

“You know, I think Jay likes you.” One of your friends mentioned casually, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Stop taking those rumors too seriously, he’s just paying back a favor.”

Yet, your friends weren’t the only ones who were beginning to notice. Most noticeably, Jay’s very own friends.

“Sunghoon, I don’t like her, so can you shut up?” Jay, almost irritated by the constant confusion of emotions.

“So, you wouldn’t mind her being so close with Sunoo?” Jake points at your direction. You laughing and trying to hold yourself together while punching Sunoo in the arm.

“No. Of course not." Yet, he still finds himself burning holes into Sunoo's skull as he sees you wrap an arm around his neck to pull him into a head lock.

It seemed as if that was the last straw because in the next moment, Sunghoon was attempting to prevent Jay's next big mess.

"Get your hands off him." Jay commands, catching not only your attention, but those around him as well.

"Relax Jay, she's just playing around." Sunoo gets himself out of the head lock, and looks at your face who's been cleared of any laughter.

"I'll see you later Sunoo." You can't even look at Jay in the eyes before walking off with another friend.

"What's wrong with you? You know she wasn't hurting me!"

"Don't talk to me right now Sunoo." Jay storms off in the opposite direction while Sunoo turns his head to the side at Sunghoon.

"Am I going to die?"

"Not yet anyway. I think if you stay off y/n, maybe it'll extend your life line." Sunghoon states honestly.

"What do you think would happen if I told him she's my cousin?"

"I don't know but I've never seen Jay so..like this. Its a good look on him."

However, Jay is his full fledged rage, begins to shove everyone in his way including a poor freshman who happens to fall in front of your locker.

"Jay what the fuck!? Are you okay?" You crouch down and reach your hand out, giving Jay a bitter feeling.

"Is this how you catch men? You pretend to be the good guy?"

"Excuse me?" You repeat, shocked at Jay's sudden attitude.

"Nevermind just stay away from me? Got it?" You don't even process the words before he dashes off, ignoring his friends who are attempting to catch his attention.

"Sunghoon, what's his issue ?" Sunghoon only let's out a heavy sigh before shrugging his shoulders.

"It's not my business, but I can assure you that anger won't end well."

-----

And it just so happens that Sunghoon's response was quiet accurate considering Jay's familiar situation. He's been long enough member of his gang to know what territories they're not exactly welcomed.

Yet, he doesn't care and does so anyway because anything is better than having to imagine you with some one else.

"Haven't seen you in a while Jay, must have been busy hmm." The leader mocks him, but it only infuriates the pent up anger within him causing him to land a punch at his gut.

"Don't test me." And as if history repeats itself, he finds himself once more cornered in the back of an alley way. With the collection of bruises forming on his stomach, one could tell he was a kick or two away from a good surgery.

"Jay! Stop!" He curses himself mentally when he watches you run towards him.

"You better leave pretty one...I mean unless..." He approaches you, reaching for your chin to tilt it sidewards, leading to Jay using his last strength to push him off you.

"Don't touch her." Jay grits his teeth, earning a smirk that quickly turns into a frown at hearing the sound of police sirens.

"You got lucky this time." He flees the scene leaving you again with a bloodied up Jay.

"You promised me to not fight anymore!" Jay chooses to ignore you and limps away to a nearby post.

"And I told you to stay away from me y/n. I don't need people like you to worry about me because they pity me" He responds.

"How am I not supposed to worry when you left so suddenly? One moment we're good and the next you're mad at Sunoo and everyone?" You place him on the stair case while getting your first aid kit ready.

"How am I supposed to stay away when you worry me? Do you have any idea how fast I ran here with this when Jake told me you weren't at your house?" You continue to apply a bit of alcohol on his open cuts.

"I'm sorry, I was upset. I saw you with Sunoo earlier and I don't know what came over me. Sunoo is so darn perfect, and what about me? I was afraid you'd leave me." Jay mumbles the last part quietly, but you manage to hear it well.

Without much hesitancy, you press a light kiss onto his bruised and swollen lips. He gasps slightly but manages to wrap his arms around your waist.

"I'm not leaving okay, I'm here to stay if you want me to." Jay grabs you and pulls you in for a hug, resting his face in the crook of your neck.

"Please stay." He mumbles, letting his grip on you get stronger. He stays there for a while, before looking at the blue bag in your hand.

"What's this?"

"I brought some dinner because I figured you would be too lazy to do it yourself and end up eating frozen nuggets again." He smiles slightly before admiring your features.

"I really like you y/n.." Jay confesses, still in the position of hugging you.

"I like you too Jay...I really do." A grin forms on his face and he drops another kiss on your cheek before leading the way out.

Perhaps Jay wasn't exactly perfect, but you always knew he was more than ready to love and learn by your side.

------

a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts haha, but I figured we could all use a little fluff with everything going on :( <3

#enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #heeseung #jungwon #sunghoon #jay #enhypen riki #enhypen jay

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buckyjamess-archive · 3 years

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𝓻𝓸𝓼𝓲𝓮 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓲 ❁ 𝓫𝓾𝓬𝓴𝔂 𝓫𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓮𝓼

a/n: keep writing reader as the villain of the story, about time this man screws up • wordcount: 1.3k • warnings: kids, babies, parenthood, cheating, alcohol, bucky being an idiot, mentions of sex, blink and you'll miss it.

summary

going through rough years after losing your husband, you try to raise your daughter the best you can. With the help from the wilson's you make the best of it but the road is bumpy when sam introduces you to his friend.

masterlist

He shouldn't be here. He promised himself to never wake up in this bed again, ever and yet he finds himself sitting on the edge of the memory foam mattress, soft lilac blankets underneath his naked thighs. The smell of the room is familiar but it's not you, not Rosie, not JJ, not home.

He should've stayed home, told you he didn't need a boys night out because he deserved just that– for taking care of the kids while you were a mess, not available and not there when he needed you the most. Yes, he deserved that but maybe the pub his friends had dragged him too was not the right place to be.

She worked there. She who he had ended things with weeks before meeting you. She with a head of brown curls bouncing around her face, bright green eyes through thick lashes and the cute little dimples in her cheeks whenever she smiled so bright, nose covered in freckles on a sun-kissed canvas and god, if only her personality matched her looks, he would have fought for this one the way he's fighting for you and his family.

God, he was in love back then, one of the firsts he saw a future with. Like a bunch of teenagers, making the eyes of his friends roll with the lovey-dovey behavior– looking back at it made Bucky cringe. The first six months were amazing before her attitude took a 180 and changed for the worse. Possessive, jealous, lowkey crazy.

He wished to never bump into his ex Melissa ever again.

But he did and with the beers coming, alcohol running through his veins and the lack of real intimacy made his mind foggy. The hugs, the cuddles and stolen kisses were not cutting it anymore, he missed you in all other ways and Melissa was there to fix it, like an angel with a halo above her head and rays of light casting from behind her – guiding him straight to what he desired most.

He shouldn't have been here. Your relationship was taking the right turn, amazing, a do over, like the beginning. The acceptance letter to that nursing school you applied for and your weekly visits with your therapist did wonders for you. Giving bucky back the girl he so deeply fell in love with and he put it all on the line for some sex. Sex he would've gotten if he just had asked you and even then he didn't have a reason to complain. His 7 months old son asking all your attention and a jealous rosie hanging around your leg nearly every hour of the day– you had the right to fall asleep as soon as your head hit a pillow.

"You know what they say; once a cheater, always a cheater."

Bucky clenches his jaw and bites the inside of his cheek, nails digging half moons in the skin of his palms as his hands turn into fists– god, all the reason why he dumper her coming back up.

"I never cheated on you." He hisses through gritted teeth, back still turned to her.

Melissa snorts "pretty sure you left me for that baby mama of yours."

"We were long done before that," bucky spats back "for reasons. You being a pain in the ass being one of them."

"That's not what you said last night."

God, he didn't even call you or send a text. A shit excuse of staying with a friend for the night, too drunk to get home while he knew damn well he wasn't going home with them.

"I can ask her you know- ask her why she doesn't want to have sex with you anymore."

Bucky nearly gives himself a whiplash with the force he turns his head around to meet with the green eyes of the half naked woman on the other side of the bed with a smug smile on her face. Playing with her phone in her hand.

"Don't you fucking dare."

"She has a right to know bucky." Melissa smiles wickedly "she has the right to know you slept with your ex."

"I'll tell her myself." Bucky hisses again "I don't need you for that."

"y/n, right?" Melissa quips, phone stills in her hand as she unlocks it with a swipe of her finger "I think I've seen her Instagram before– gotta say Barnes, the boy looks like you."

"Melissa, I'm begging you." Bucky sighs "please, I'll tell her myself."

I'll tell her myself– only if he believed that lie himself.

A date night, some one on one, some time alone is all what was needed to fill the missing gaps in your relationship. Both kids off to spend the night with bucky his family; just you and him.

Dinner at your favorite sushi bar before strolling through the city hand in hand, catching a movie the both of you were dying to see followed by a round of beer at the first bar you stumbled upon and right back home– a trail of clothes leading from the kitchen, too desperate. Hands on each other and whispered sweet little nothings. Skin to skin. Raw. Real. Perfect.

But his mind couldn't help and wander to last week; tangled up in his ex her arms under thin sheets in a familiar bed. Mind wandering back to that night, not because he couldn't get Melissa out if his head but the regret– he'd done the same thing tonight but with the real love of his life, the mother of his kid, his future wife but it eats him alive; you can do better than the lying man he is. He needs to tell the truth, it's the least you deserve but he can't. He can't lose what he has now, a future.

He wants that white picket fence outside of the city with a big garden for your babies to grow up in. He wants another mini him or mini you running around, maybe even two if life is that kind. He wants to be by your side through thick and thin, in sickness and health, the bad and the good. He wants to see you stroll down the aisle in that perfect dress. He wants to be a good father figure for rosie, the perfect father and perfect husband– he's put it all on the line for some bad sex with a woman he despised so much.

He can't but he needs to tell the truth. No lies.

The smell of sex is still stuck in the air and the rays of moonlight cast through the crack between the curtains, the sound of the city a background noise– his arm is asleep from where your head rests but bucky runs his hand through your hair and presses a kiss to the crown of your hair, taking in the warm fruity smell of your shampoo. Your naked body cuddles up to his, soft legs entangled with his and a soft and warm hand laying on his chest right near his heart.

you're asleep, have been for a while but he can't; his eyes on the ceiling, following the small cracks in the paint and the cobweb he missed earlier this week.

Bucky once again finds himself preparing himself a.nd his stupid apology 'a drunken mistake' and 'it won't happen again' followed by a pathetic 'forgive me?'

He hopes you're getting angry at him, call him names, cursing him, wishing you never met him, a big mistake– bucky simply cannot bear the thought of you crying over him, he doesn't deserve your tears, doesn't deserve you. But above all, he wishes things will turn out okay in the end; see you happy even if it means without him. You deserve that.

God, he needs to tell the truth. You'll find out one way or the other, if not from him it'll be Melissa herself.

'Hey doll, we need to talk.'

taglist; @farfromshawn @Nicollettemarie @wooya1224 @felicityofbakerstreet @agentmstark @sierrax023 @lilyevanswhore @qhbr2013 @buckybarnesobsessed @themaddies-obx @aloserwithoutacause @aanngie @sebby-staan @sweetth1ng @starrystarkey93 @libidinexx @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable @gasly-kvyat @brown-bi-beautiful @peter-laufeyson @im-squished @meshlababy @lindseyrae20 @cb97skies @qwccrr @ssprayberrythings @yougottalovefandoms @jbcalway @realgaytrash @natyvwe @poetryazenth @winterberryfox @ahahafudge

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #bucky #bucky x reader #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #rosie and i*

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anamelessfacelessnerd · 3 years

Text

Not me rewriting the ending to Mizumono only to have a much better idea halfway through so as soon as I finished the first one I started on the second

Rating: Explicit

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: M/M

Fandom: Hannibal (TV)

Relationship: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter

Characters: Will Graham, Hannibal Lecter, Abigail Hobbs

Additional Tags: Canon-Typical Violence, Episode: s02e13 Mizumono, Smut, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Mild Blood, Rough Sex, Coming Untouched, Not Beta Read, Dark Will Graham

Language: English

Summary: “I need him to know.” Will looked into Hannibal’s eyes then, searching for the desperation he could hear in his words. “If I confessed to Jack Crawford now, you think he would forgive me?”

“I would forgive you.” It’s clear that Hannibal’s not talking about the murder, but the betrayal. He would still forgive Will for conspiring against him. “If Jack were to tell you all is forgiven, Will, would you accept his forgiveness?” The double meaning is apparent. Hannibal was asking Will if he would go with him knowing that Hannibal would forgive him. It’s an invitation. One that Will wasn’t sure he wanted to decline.

“Jack isn't offering forgiveness.” Hannibal wanted to say “I am”, but he didn't. “He wants justice. He wants to see you. See who you are. See who I've become. Know the truth.” Will takes another sip of his wine and Hannibal accepts his defeat. He really hadn’t wanted to hurt Will, but it seemed that it would be the only option.

“Still, I suppose we don’t owe Jack that do we?” Will spoke again.

Notes: Okay, I know I rewrote the ending of Mizumono yesterday, but I had this idea while I wrote it and I couldn't help myself.

“Do you know what an imago is, Will?” Hannibal asked.

“It's a flying insect,” Will replied.

“It's the final stage of a transformation. Maturity.”

“When you become who you will be,” Will said, catching on to the point Hannibal was making.

“It's also a term from the dead religion of psychoanalysis. An imago is an image of a loved one buried in the unconscious, carried with us all our lives.”

“An ideal.”

“The concept of an ideal always searching for an objective reality to match. I have a concept of you just as you have a concept of me.”

“Neither of us are ideal,” Will says after taking a long drink of his wine. Hannibal considered what Will had just said for a moment. He had nearly trusted an ideal. He thought that Will would leave with him until he smelled Freddie Lounds on him. Perhaps Will was right, neither of them were ideal.

“We are both too curious about too many things for any ideals.” Hannibal paused a moment, feeling a twinge of hesitation for what he was about to ask. It was completely out of character for Hannibal to grovel, but in recent weeks he had grown accustomed to the idea of running away with Will, and he wasn’t quite ready to give the fantasy up. “Is it ideal that Jack die?”

Will matched Hannibal’s pause. Most would not even notice the hesitation, but Hannibal did.

“It's necessary. What happens to Jack has been preordained.” Will’s voice was cold, free from any emotion. In any other circumstance Hannibal would be proud of how well he schooled his expression, but now it just frustrated him.

“We could disappear now. Tonight. Feed your dogs. Leave a note for Dr. Bloom, never see her or Jack Crawford again. Almost polite,” Hannibal was nearly begging now and Will knew it. Their eyes locked and at once Will understood. Hannibal knew and he was willing to forgive.

“That'd make this our last supper,” Will said, considering Hannibal’s offer. Now, just days away from the sting that he and Jack had planned, Will still wasn’t sure whose side he was really on. Part of him wanted to be good, he wanted to atone for his sins and clear his name for good, because even though he had been acquitted, there were still those who believed he had actually killed all those people.

The other part of him wanted to become what everyone thought him to be. Though he hated to admit it, he had felt a thrill as he killed and mutilated Randall Tier. Even worse was that now thinking about that feeling didn’t make him feel guilty or sick, only enhanced the adrenaline.

If he was being completely honest, half of the thrill was seeing how Hannibal looked at him when he knew what Will had done. The subtle adoration and pride that he was no doubt allowing Will to see. Hannibal’s gaze made Will feel things, things that he had never felt with anyone before, and he wanted to chase that feeling.

“Of this life. I am serving lamb.”

“Sacrificial? Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world.” Will snorted.

“I freely claim my sin. I don't need a sacrifice. Do you?”

“I need him to know.” Will looked into Hannibal’s eyes then, searching for the desperation he could hear in his words. “If I confessed to Jack Crawford now, you think he would forgive me?”

“I would forgive you.” It’s clear that Hannibal’s not talking about the murder, but the betrayal. He would still forgive Will for conspiring against him. “If Jack were to tell you all is forgiven, Will, would you accept his forgiveness?” The double meaning was apparent. Hannibal was asking Will if he would go with him knowing that Hannibal would forgive him. It’s an invitation. One that Will wasn’t sure he wanted to decline.

“Still, I suppose we don’t owe Jack that do we?” Will spoke again. Hannibal perked up almost imperceptibly.

“Perhaps a note will be sufficient. I didn’t want to leave the dogs alone, but they’ll be fine for a while. Knowing Jack he’ll send a cruiser to my place within an hour after I don’t show up in the morning.”

“Let us prepare then. I would like to be out of the country before Jack realizes that you are no longer his man on the inside.” Hannibal stood and began gathering plates to bring to the kitchen because of course he would want to leave the house spotless. Will helped him with the dishes and wiping everything down. They caught eyes several times, both revving with the anticipation of what was to come. Will considered apologizing for his conspiracy, but when he looked into Hannibal’s eyes he knew he was already forgiven.

It was a little intoxicating to know that he had this kind of control over hannibal. To know that he made Hannibal beg. He wondered how else he could compel him to beg. That was, once they stopped dancing around the physical aspect of their relationship and finally just fucked like they both wanted to.

Once they were finished they retired to the study to write a note. Hannibal wandered around, collecting particular books and knick knacks that he wanted to bring while Will drafted a note. After much thinking and many balled up pieces of paper, Will finally got it right. When he finished, he handed it to Hannibal to read.

“This will do nicely,” Hannibal said. He slipped the letter into an envelope and sealed it with blood red wax and a stamp that bore his initials.

Will watched as the wax dripped. The flow of the thick liquid was giving him all sorts of dirty thoughts. Thoughts of Hannibal pouring that warm liquid all over his body. Thoughts of being covered in other kinds of red liquid. Will had to take a deep breath to steady himself and bring some blood back up to his head.

When the wax had dried, Hannibal handed the letter to Will, fingers brushing against Will’s skin tenderly.

“I have a surprise for you,” Hannibal said, hand coming to grip Will’s wrist.

“Oh?” Will replied.

“Come with me.” Hannibal led Will upstairs, never letting go of his wrist. Will had only been to the upper floor of Hannibal’s house a few times, and never in the dark, so he didn’t really know where they were going. He had two ideas, one much more enticing than the other, but both equally likely.

As it turned out, neither of his assumptions were correct. Hannibal led him to a closed door at the end of the hallway and knocked.

“May we come in?” He asked. Will didn’t even have time to question who was in there before the door was being opened from the inside. Standing in the doorway was none other than Abigail Hobbs.

“Hi Will,” She said, a small smile playing on her chapped lips.

“Abigail?” Will asked, voice barely audible. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Had Hannibal drugged him? Was he hallucinating?

“How are you here? You’re dead,” Will said.

“Not dead, just misplaced,” Hannibal replied, “they never found a body, well, not a whole body at least. It was merely a charade.”

Abigail tucked her hair back to show Will the flesh where her ear had been. It was healed over by now, but it still brought a wave of bile up in Will’s throat.

“You’ve been here this whole time?” Will asked, choking down the anger that was building in him. There was no sense getting angry now, especially when he was teetering on the edge of a new beginning.

“I’m sorry,” Abigail said, tears welling in her eyes.

“I forgive you,” Will said. Abigail took two big steps forward and wrapped her arms around Will’s middle, burying her tears in his shirt. He brought a hand to her hair and stroked, both soothing her and assuring himself that she was really there and really alive.

“Thank you,” Will whispered to Hannibal. He wasn’t sure what he was thanking him for. Maybe for keeping Abigail alive, maybe for bringing him to her, maybe just because he didn’t know what else to say.

Hannibal’s hand came to rest between Will’s shoulder blades, fingertips shooting electricity down his spine.

“I do not wish to rush you two, but we must be going,” Hannibal said, “there is still much for us to do and little time to do it.”

Abigail pulled back from Will and wiped her eyes on her sleeve, sniffling a few times.

“Will, would you care to help me pack?” Hannibal asked.

“Yeah, sure.” Will cast one last glance at Abigail before following Hannibal to his bedroom.

“Everything in that top drawer must come,” Hannibal said as he set a large suitcase on the bed. Will began transferring the carefully folded garments from the dresser to the suitcase while Hannibal sorted through his suits to find the ones he liked best.

Will and Hannibal's hands brushed for what felt like the 500th time that night as they both attempted to place clothing in the suitcase at the same time. Their eyes met and there was a moment of contemplation before they pounced.

Will dragged Hannibal to the floor and straddled him, hands balling up around fistfulls of Hannibal’s jacket as he pressed their lips together. Hannibal kissed back with equal fervour, hands sliding back to cup Will’s ass. Will moaned into the kiss and rutted his hips against Hannibals. Hannibal bit Will’s lip, not stopping until he drew blood.

They broke away, panting and breathing each other in. Hannibal brought one hand to Will’s cheek and stroked, the pad of his thumb brushing over Will’s parted lips. Will sucked the digit into his mouth, tongue lapping at the sensitive skin.

Will ground his hips down, ass rubbing against Hannibal’s rapidly hardening cock. The older man stared up at him in wonder, lips parted and eyes blown wide. He withdrew his hand, swiping his thumb along the bleeding cut on Will’s lip until the skin was stained red. Then he brought it to his own mouth, his eyes rolling back as he savored the metallic taste of his lover’s blood.

“You taste divine Will,” Hannibal said, deep voice sending tremors through Will’s body. That was it, that was the breaking point for Will.

“Take your fucking clothes off,” He demanded as he scrambled off of Hannibal to remove his own clothes.

“Such crass language,” Hannibal scolded, clicking his tongue disapprovingly, “whatever should I do about that?”

Hannibal was trying his best to regain some of the power he had lost in this exchange. Will would let him believe that he did, if only to sate his ego, but Will knew deep down that he was in control. He had known since before Hannibal had pleaded with him that he was in control here. Hannibal had several layers to his persona. The first was the polite, yet slightly eccentric doctor who loved good food and opera, behind that was the calculating psychopath cold, and emotionless. His true personality was hidden deep within himself, but Will was able to see it, after all, he had not yet met a person he couldn’t read.

The person that Hannibal truly was was driven by his emotions. Anger and hurt bubbled under his skin, suppressed by years of burying everything akin to a feeling deep below the surface. He was intensely narcissistic and hedonistic. Everything he did was to fulfill his desires. He ate to satiate his hunger, he killed to assuage a compulsion. He acted solely in his own self interests, and right now Will was his interest. That gave Will ultimate power over Hannibal. He wanted Will in every sense of the word, and would do nearly everything to have him.

Perhaps what solidified Will’s control was the fact that he was aware of this while Hannibal wasn’t. Hannibal had spent so much effort repressing feelings that he genuinely believed that they were never there in the first place. Will knew about Hannibal’s nature, not from the beginning, no he was fooled like everyone else at first, but certainly longer than he let on. He only raised the issue with Jack when he was in danger.

Will put on the facade of being overly emotional, of being unstable, but deep down he was something different entirely. That’s why he was so good at “faking” the coldness he showed with Hannibal, it was never fake, the emotions were fake, and Hannibal was none the wiser. This was Will’s game and Hannibal was barely aware he was playing.

“Will?” Hannibal asked, pulling Will from his thoughts. He kneeled in front of him, now fully nude, his erection jutting out proudly from a bed of well trimmed blonde curls.

“Fuck me,” Will insisted, trying to pass his momentary spacyness off as fascination with the admittedly impressive cock that hung between Hannibal’s legs.

“As you wish.” Yes, as Will wishes. Hannibal will do exactly as Will wishes.

Will doesn’t wait for any more negotiations. He turns around and sinks to his elbows, thighs spread wide to accommodate Hannibal. He heard the older man’s breath catch as Will displayed himself.

“Oh Will, you truly are exquisite. Beauty incarnate.” Hannibal mused. Will watched between his legs as Hannibal reached into the bedside table for a bottle of lube. Hannibal poured the lube onto his fingers, then pressed them to Will’s hole, tracing the rim to get it nice and wet.

Will buried his face in his crossed arms to stifle a moan. The last thing he needed was for Hannibal to know exactly how sensitive he actually was and to exploit that fact. They didn’t have much time and Will was really just looking to be fucked.

Finally, one finger breached Will. It slid in with little resistance and Hannibal added a second. His thumb came to press against Will’s perineum as he scissored his fingers. Will let out a choked sob when Hannibal’s other hand tangled in his hair and pulled his head up sharply.

“I want to hear you Will. I want to hear exactly how much you like this.”

“God, just fuck me already Hannibal,” Will begged, “I’m ready, just get in me.”

Hannibal withdrew his fingers at once. Will didn’t even have a chance to get a word out before Hannibal was pressing his cock inside.

“There you go sweet boy, taking my cock so well, like you were made for it. Like you were born to take me.”

Will had never heard Hannibal speak so lewdly before, but he liked it more than he would ever care to admit. Not that he even could right now with Hannibal thrusting into him with punishing force, hitting his prostate every time.

Hannibal still had one hand in Will’s hair. The other was gripping his hip so tight he would undoubtedly have finger shaped bruises in the morning. He brought his lips down to Will’s shoulder, placing a few gentle kisses there, and that would simply not do. Will needed him to be rough, he needed to be fucked hard.

“Harder,” Will grunted, “come on Hannibal, you can do better than that. Do it like I know you want to. Hurt me.”

“Are you sure you can handle it?” Hannibal panted.

“Fuck yes, give it to be Hannibal, fucking ruin me.”

Hannibal complied immediately, using all of the force he could to pound into Will like he was trying to split him clean in half. He bit down hard on Will’s shoulder, just short of drawing blood.

Will rocked back to meet every thrust, letting out a litany of pathetic noises that he probably should have been embarrassed about. Hannibal was groaning now too, grunting like a beast in Will’s ear as he shoved in impossibly deeper.

Will’s orgasm was so sudden, he didn’t even feel it coming. In an instant his body went rigid as white hot pleasure coiled in his abdomen and he came completely untouched.

After coming for what felt like hours, he dropped to the floor, thighs shaking too hard to support himself any longer.

Once he had caught his breath, Will rolled over onto his back and spread his legs.

“Keep going,” he told Hannibal, “I want you to use me to make yourself come.”

Hannibal didn’t need to be told twice before sliding back into Will. He hoisted the younger man’s knees up over his shoulders to get a better angle as he slammed in over and over again.

At last, Hannibal gave a final hard thrust and spilled inside Will, coating his insides with his seed. He pulled out and laid on the floor next to him, breathing hard and trembling.

“I would have run away with you a long time ago if I had known that was in store for me,” Will panted, struggling to sit up.

“If I saw you every day, forever, Will, I would remember this time,” Hannibal said, reaching over to brush a lock of curly hair behind his ear.

Will smiled and kissed Hannibal again. It was softer this time, full of much more affection, especially on Hannibal’s behalf.

“I would sit here with you for eternity Will, but I fear that we must leave soon. We would not want to keep Abigail waiting.” Hannibal said when they pulled away.

“Of course, but first will you promise me something?”

“What is it that you desire?”

“Do that again as soon as we get to wherever we’re going.” Hannibal grinned and cupped Will’s cheek.

“I would gladly have you every day, my dear Will.”

Notes: Listen, we all know who's actually in control and this relationship and it's not Hannibal "Simp" Lecter.

#hannibal #hannigram #hannibal lecter #will graham #abigail hobbs #smut #fanfic #ao3 #hannigram fic #hannibal fanfiction #mizumono #2.13

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guigz1-coldwar · 3 years

Text

'True motives': New chapter for "Redemption in a Spirit in a Cold War" is out!

"True motives"

"You're just a pathetic, sad & lost girl who is trying to pretend that she's someone that she was before,"

Chapter Summary: Yirina is trying her best to not break down after she was captured before someone tells her some reasons behind a lot of things that happened...

Link of the Picrew here!

https://picrew.me/image_maker/76015

To read it on AO3, click here!

Words : +3000

Taglist : @snowgoldwaylon , @clxudtea , @efingart

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

When the cell plunged into the dark with me in it after Bellamy closed the door, not letting any light from the outside, I didn't know if I should feel scared or doing nothing but no...I was scared, it's my fault that Zasha & I got captured by Perseus while Roach & Griffin are dead because of the train crash, it's my fault that I'm the one to let Zasha come with me to pursue that train, it's my fault that I acted so stupid...been blinded by my goal of destroying Perseus and what did it cost...I'm alone in the dark...while my best friend is in another cell...surely facing the same fate as me...while Park...

Only by thinking of her, I could feel the first tears that were going to come out, maybe imagining what was her reaction to learn that...she must be sad...angry and Portnova...I didn't hear from her during the fight as she was part of the sniper team but...she must be in the same state as Park, trying to wonder how all of this happen...Zasha is probably feeling the same thing as me, our lovers....safe & away but for us, we were in bad shape, surrounded by 4 walls of brick...they were away...impossible for them to know where we are...my thoughts were starting to make me cry, the first tears getting to flow over my cheeks and they were touching the cuts on my face, still not healed...

I tried to move but with nothing that was allowing me to see a simple brightest light in this darkened room, it was impossible even if this room doesn't have any bed, sink, or a chair. In fact, there were nowhere for me to go, causing me to stay sit against the wall, my eyes surely looking in the direction of the door as if I was already waiting for someone to come at me but time pass...slowly pass, I wasn't having any means to know it since they snatched the watch I was wearing...leaving me alone, hopeless...timeless...worrying about myself, my friends...Park...how badly I fuck everything up...the only thing that is close to me...is not here...

The only thing I could really do right now was to stay sitting, back against the wall, keeping my head up, trying to not cry...until they decide what to do with me. Were they going to kill me? Were they going to move me away? Persuade me to rejoin the cause? I start to ask myself those questions when I hear some noises coming from the door and only a few seconds after, the light of the room goes on, enlightening the room for a bit as the door got opened, revealing none other than Lukas Ritter himself...

"Lukas..." I whispered his name, seeing him peeking his head to look at me from the half-opened door while my eyes were not trying to focus on the light slowly going on.

"Grigoriev," He sighed, fully opening the door and I could see a first-aid kit in his right hand. "Scheisse..." He said in German, his eyes looking over the kit he was holding.

"Why are you here? Torturing me?" I asked him as he got his foot inside the room, letting the door as it is.

"I would have like to but not for the moment," He replied, advancing slowly in his walk to get in front of me. "For now, I've got to volunteer to be the one to heal your wounds," He put down his kit next to me as he kneel down.

"Seems that it doesn't please you," I told him, my hands moving over my lap as he starts to open the kit, revealing everything necessary for him to patch me up.

"Of course, you're right," He raised an eyebrow at me. "To say that only this morning, you talk to me like if it was normal," He stated, taking off the kit a small piece of cotton.

"You thought that you could be roaming around without having eyes on you?" I commented, him removing his eyes from me to get focus on his things.

"How did you know about me & where our hideout was?" He asked me as he was putting a bit of disinfectant over the cotton and the only thing I did was to say nothing until he got his eyes back on me, giving him a look that was checking him. "Me?" He muttered.

"Who else could have led us to Canary's Wharf?" I scoffed, slightly shaking my head to think about it, nearly laughing, to be honest. "Me finding you wasn't so...hard to understand," I added. "Got a tracker on you before I left...but I thought you found it by your own,"

"Scheisse...how I can still be like that?" He sighed before he finish with his cotton, having put some disinfectant on it. "Anyway, stay still," He advised me as he was approaching the cotton near me before he starts to do his thing...

"Ouch, that hurt," I moaned at feeling the disinfectant over the cut of my right cheek, Lukas going slowly in his move

"I told you to stay still," Lukas sighed at me complaining about that little thing. "And besides, it's just some disinfectant so stop complaining," He told me in a serious voice, his face all straight along with me, trying to drift away and drow in my thoughts but feeling cotton crossing my face wasn't helping. "And I was thinking that I was taking a lot of precautions in my moves in London,"

"No, you didn't," I directly said at him without any fear of him changing his mind and hit me instead of healing me. "We weren't stupid, we know it...shit, we knew it since you left Moscow months ago," I continued, trying to not moan with him applying the disinfectant over the cuts on my face along with the bruises. "Since weeks ago, we knew that you will come here with your friends, one of them attempting to murder my friend while she's teaching,"

"MI6 has always been busy..." Lukas commented, stopping with his cotton and pulling it down to grab some patches in the kit. "And no, Bellamy isn't my friend,"

"Didn't have to tell his name," I whispered, biting a part of my lips as Lukas stops moving for a few seconds before resuming. "You didn't like Portnova, right?" I asked him.

"It's none of your business," He objected.

"You were despising her when you were working with her in her team in the KGB, isn't it?" I continued, thinking that he was the one who ordered her assassination attempt. "You couldn't do your dirty work so you ask..."

"I didn't!" He raised up his voice at me, almost making an echo inside the room, his eyes giving me a deadly glare. "I like her as a friend but it wasn't me," He proclaimed, putting his hands back on the patches before moving them to my face. "It was Bellamy himself,"

"Him?" I said.

"Him, yes," Lukas responded, getting a patch over the cut I've got near my lips on my left cheek. "He's jealous of her, he's the first one to doubt about her death and..." He stopped himself in his voice, taking a breath. "At first, he was mad in love with her," He revealed, sending me a bit of a shock inside of me, trying to stay neutral on the outside.

"Really?" He nodded his head at me when I asks that.

"Flowers at her house, love letters but she was refusing everything," Lukas told me, his voice sounding a bit better than before but keeping a normal face at me nonetheless. "Time passing and opinion changed, he starts to hate her, she was already hating him so...it was normal now," He added.

"At the point of trying to kill her while she's making a lesson, how fucked it is to do that?" I demanded, wondering how it is possible to do something like that.

"It's all Bellamy," He answered, putting the last patch over my face, now almost feeling it covered by dressings. "Changing, you have something hurting below your clothes?" He asked me, making me narrow my eyes at him.

"Only in the inside," I replied, slightly moving my arms to cross it above my chest. "And even if I had some, I would have done it myself," I proclaimed, not wanting to remove my clothes in front of the Perseus agents in here.

"As you think," Lukas muttered as he put everything that he didn't really use inside the kit. "Now, you got patched up but I'm not sure that you will like what we will do to you," He warned me, closing the kit with his hands, eyes away from me.

"You could kill me right away...end my suffering for good," I proposed in a serious voice...maybe thinking that what I'm really living isn't enjoyable. "It would save...troubles,"

"Killing the person who hurt Stone with a bullet in the head? Not a good idea," Lukas refused in a harsh tone, getting up back on his feet. "I want to see you and your friend Zasha suffering for what you both did," He declared, looking at me with a haughty air. "Because of you, I lost with my boyfriend, the only person we could really trust...and love," He added before he starts to get away from me.

He was going to walk out of the room with his first-aid kit in his right hand before he stops near the door, having seen something outside and I slowly peek my head to see what it was...when I got my eyes on it, it was in fact...Stone...Sarah...still dressed up in the same clothes that Stone always wore, with the green hood on, looking at Lukas that was a bit frightened to see her like that, according to the walk he was taking and he resumes his walk until he stop next to her, 'Stone's eyes staying on me...

"You shouldn't be dress like that, Sarah," Lukas spoke up, not looking at her but in another direction. "You made me & Beck remember him," He said.

"It's his legacy, Ritter, deal with it," Sarah proclaimed, turning her head around to look at him.

"Maybe...but you're certainly not Stone," Lukas told her before Sarah moves her hand over Lukas's right arm. "And you will never be him," He then removed Sarah's hand off him before he walks away, leaving me to face Sarah who looks at me as she enter the room.

"Stone...Sarah..." I muttered, still thinking about why she was on their side...did she fake up her kidnapping..."You can remove the mask now," I advised her.

"Of course," She complied, her hands going over the green hood before taking it off, seeing Sarah's face...it was her dressed in Stone's clothes. "Still surprising, isn't it?" She scoffed as her eyes were over the green hood in her hands.

"What the fuck you're doing with them?" I asked her, my voice almost rising up and nearly going to get me angry.

"No, the question is...what the fuck I was doing with the MI6, Grigoriev?" She asked me back in an appeased voice, sitting down in front of me. "Or I should say...Bell?" She corrected herself.

"Shut up," I whispered, hearing that name from her.

"The poor woman who got herself brainwashed by the CIA, fell in love with an MI6 agent who is the very one who made you lost and still now, you're working with them," She continued, keeping a smile on her face by looking at me, surely seeing me like nothing. "Bell, Bell, Bell...did it ring any bell for you?" She joked and I wanted to punch her but I was feeling so weak that it would serve me for nothing.

"It isn't funny," That's the only thing I could tell her, looking down at my boots.

"How ironic for you to find yourself..."

"Spit it out, Sarah, what's going on?" I cut herself straight in her words, wanting to know more about her true motives than hearing her lamenting me for what happened to me. "Why are you dressing up like Stone? What happened?" I asked her before she put the green hood in front of me, the back part of it against the ground.

"How did it feel when you pulled that trigger in Cuba?" She demanded before she took something out of her jacket and putting right over the hood...revealing Stone's body on it. "Yippee-Ki-Yay...motherfucker...really?" She raised an eyebrow at me...making me remember the words I used that day before I uses Stone's gun to shoot him through my shoulder..."Making fun of his death?"

"It wasn't funny...bad thing..." I said, realizing that it was a poor choice of words at that moment. "So...all of this, Stone's sudden reappearance...it was faked?" She nodded at me

"Yes, it was and still is," She fully responded, taking something else from her jacket...another picture, the same one with Stone, Beck & Lukas on it, the same one that we saw when we learned about Stone's situation. "This photo was taken months ago...and everything fell for it," She explained, showing me the picture.

"You planned up everything to the start...who are you exactly?" I demanded, finding that the person in front of me wasn't really Sarah Mcgrath that I know..."You're her sister, right?"

"Sarah Stone," She muttered, putting down the picture next to the other one over the green hood. "The person that you kill was my brother, Harry," She clarified in case that I didn't understand. "One year that I was acting as 'Sarah Mcgrath' and no one...no one saw that I was playing an act," She revealed, her hands joining together over her lap. "But then, it was decided that Sarah Stone should come back to avenge the death of her brother at the hands of the MI6,"

"So, you decided to give a false situation for us, hoping to get us killed," I presumed, a nod coming from her. "You changed the reports of Stone's death to make sure that we all bought into the fact that Harry was still alive and planning something in London with Perseus." I continued, still followed by a nod from her. "You killed Peter," My voice went down on this part before she nods at me again.

"What a pity to see him offer no resistance to my charm before I could plant a knife in his neck," She bragged herself, not sounding ashamed of what she did to him as I was feeling all angry inside my body, the urge of punching her was getting stronger but useless to do. "Man is always so...you know, weak when a lady came..."

"Stop," I ordered, not wanting to know at all. "You're disgusting me," I told her, looking down again at my lap. "I thought that you will be a friend but instead, you're nothing like it," I started to give away my thoughts, seeing that she was just an enemy...resembling what a Perseus agent is..."You were a friend but instead, you turned out to be the sister of that asshole," I exclaimed before suddenly, Sarah's left hand came towards my neck, putting my head against the wall.

"Listen to me, you little bitch," She warned me, holding me by my neck with her hand, almost at the point to choke me here. "Harry wasn't an asshole, he was my brother," She proclaimed. "The assholes are those who decided to kill him and the biggest of them...is the one that pulled the trigger and killed him in a shitty place away in Cuba," She continued, her face full of angriness as I was trying to stay neutral but the tears were starting to get feel sooner.

"Sarah..." I tried to say but she only reinforced her grasp on me.

"You're just a pathetic, sad & lost girl who is trying to pretend that she's someone that she was before," She exclaimed, her voice meaning it fully. "Loved by no one, you have no friends, Grigoriev, just illusions that you're making yourself,"

"That...ain't true!" I raised up my voice as the best I could do with her hand around my neck.

"So, where's your love? Where're your friends?" She asked me, taking a look behind her at the door as if she was waiting for the others to arrive. "You will never be loved, you're nothing, Grigoriev!" She turned her head back at me as the tears starts to feel coming out of my eyes. "Park will maybe come here but I'll get the pleasure to kill her in front of you...for you to see how it feels to lose someone," She then released my neck, getting her hand off me before retrieving the hood and the pictures on the ground.

"Oh hey, Sarah!" Suddenly, a voice called her outside the room as she turned around to see who talked...it was Bellamy. "I think that you should leave her for now, we only starting in the morning," He said to her.

"I know, I was just warning her of a lot of things," Sarah told him as she peeks her head at me, walking in front of her to leave the room. "Reminded her that she was alone,"

"Good...good," Bellamy exclaimed before he got the light off in the room, leaving me alone in the dark again. "Have a bad night, Grigoriev," He wished me that with a joking voice before Sarah shut down the door, finding back into the darkness, starting to cry...

I couldn't bring myself to cry but what Sarah said to me, what she proclaimed to me...it was enough to make me cry...thinking that I was useless, hopeless & alone...I need to fight but...I'm alone as Zasha...I don't know what's happening with Zasha...but I hope they're trying their best to hold on...Park...I need her to rescue us from here...I need her to do this...I know that she will do this but now...I'm alone...just alone and crying in that cell, slowly drifting against the wall to lay down on the ground, my hands moving to act as a sort of pillow...

I'm just alone in the dark...waiting for a light to come...

#cod bocw #cod cold war #cod black ops cold war #cod cw #call of duty cold war #cod #call of duty #cod bell #black ops cold war #yirina grigoriev #fem!bell #helen park #bell x park

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ifuckinglovestvincent · 5 years

Text

Switching Lanes With St. Vincent

By Molly Young

January 22, 2019

Jacket (men’s), $4,900, pants (men’s), $2,300, by Dior / Men shoes, by Christian Louboutin / Rings (throughout) by Cartier

On a cold recent night in Brooklyn, St. Vincent appeared onstage in a Saint Laurent smoking jacket to much clapping and hooting, gave the crowd a deadpan look, and said, “Without being reductive, I'd like to say that we haven't actually done anything yet.” Pause. “So let's do something.”

She launched into a cover of Lou Reed's “Perfect Day”: an arty torch-song version that made you really wonder whom she was thinking about when she sang it. This was the elusive chanteuse version of St. Vincent, at least 80 percent leg, with slicked-back hair and pale, pale skin. She belted, sipped from a tumbler of tequila (“Oh, Christ on a cracker, that's strong”), executed little feints and pounces, flung the mic cord away from herself like a filthy sock, and spat on the stage a bunch of times. Nine parts Judy Garland, one part GG Allin.

If the Garland-Allin combination suggests that St. Vincent is an acquired taste, she's one that has been acquired by a wide range of fans. The crowd in Brooklyn included young women with Haircuts in pastel fur and guys with beards of widely varying intentionality. There was a woman of at least 90 years and a Hasidic guy in a tall hat, which was too bad for whoever sat behind him. There were models, full nuclear families, and even a solitary frat bro. St. Vincent brings people together.

If you chart the career of Annie Clark, which is St. Vincent's civilian name, you will see what start-up founders and venture capitalists call “hockey-stick growth.” That is, a line that moves steadily in a northeast direction until it hits an “inflection point” and shoots steeply upward. It's called hockey-stick growth because…it looks like a hockey stick.

Dress, by Balmain

The toe of the stick starts with Marry Me, Clark's debut solo album, which came out a decade ago and established a few things that would become essential St. Vincent traits: her ability to play a zillion instruments (she's credited on the album with everything from dulcimer to vibraphone), her highbrow streak (Shakespeare citations), her goofy streak (“Marry me!” is an Arrested Development bit), and her oceanic library of musical references (Kate Bush, Steve Reich, uh…D'Angelo!). The blade of the stick is her next four albums, one of them a collaboration with David Byrne, all of them confirming her presence as an enigma of indie pop and a guitar genius. The stick of the stick took a non-musical detour in 2016, when Clark was photographed canoodling with (now ex-) girlfriend Cara Delevingne at Taylor Swift's mansion, followed a few months later by pictures of Clark holding hands with Kristen Stewart. That brought her to the realm of mainstream paparazzi-pictures-in-the-Daily-Mail celebrity. Finally, the top of the stick is Masseduction, the 2017 album she co-produced with Jack Antonoff, which revealed St. Vincent to be not only experimental and beguiling but capable of turning out incorrigible bangers.

Masseduction made the case that Clark could be as much a pop star as someone like Sia or Nicki Minaj—a performer whose idiosyncrasies didn't have to be tamped down for mainstream success but could actually be amplified. The artist Bruce Nauman once said he made work that was like “going up the stairs in the dark and either having an extra stair that you didn't expect or not having one that you thought was going to be there.” The idea applies to Masseduction: Into the familiar form of a pop song Clark introduces surprising missteps, unexpected additions and subtractions. The album reached No. 10 on the Billboard 200. The David Bowie comparisons got louder.

This past fall, she released MassEducation (not quite the same title; note the addition of the letter a), which turned a dozen of the tracks into stripped-down piano songs. Although technically off duty after being on tour for nearly all of 2018, Clark has been performing the reduced songs here and there in small venues with her collaborator, the composer and pianist Thomas Bartlett. Whereas the Masseduction tour involved a lot of latex, neon, choreographed sex-robot dance moves, and LED screens, these recent shows have been comparatively austere. When she performed in Brooklyn, the stage was empty, aside from a piano and a side table. There were blue lights, a little piped-in fog for atmosphere, and that was it. It looked like an early-'90s magazine ad for premium liquor: art-directed, yes, but not to the degree that it Pinterested itself.

Coat, (men’s) $8,475, by Versace / Shoes, by Christian Louboutin / Tights, by Wolford

The performance was similarly informal. Midway through one song, Clark forgot the lyrics and halted. “It takes a different energy to be performing [than] to sit in your sweatpants watching Babylon Berlin,” she said. “Wherever I am, I completely forget the past, and I'm like. ‘This is now.’ And sometimes this means forgetting song lyrics. So, if you will…tell me what the second fucking verse is.”

Clark has only a decade in the public eye behind her, but she's accomplished a good amount of shape-shifting. An openness to the full range of human expression, in fact, is kind of a requirement for being a St. Vincent fan. This is a person who has appeared in the front row at Chanel and also a person who played a gig dressed as a toilet, a person profiled in Vogue and on the cover of Guitar World.

The day before her Brooklyn show, I sat with Clark to find out what it's like to be utterly unstructured, time-wise, after a long stretch of knowing a year in advance that she had to be in, like, Denmark on July 4 and couldn't make plans with friends.

“I've been off tour now for three weeks,” she said. “When I say ‘off,’ I mean I didn't have to travel.”

This doesn't mean she hasn't traveled—she went to L.A. to get in the studio with Sleater-Kinney and also hopped down to Texas, where she grew up—just that she hasn't been contractually obligated to travel. What else did she do on her mini-vacation?

“I had the best weekend last weekend. I woke up and did hot Pilates, and then I got a bunch of new modular synths, and I set 'em up, and I spent ten hours with modular synths. Plugging things in. What happens when I do this? I'm unburdened by a full understanding of what's going on, so I'm very willing to experiment.”

Coat, by Boss

Jacket, and coat, by Boss / Necklace, by Cartier

Like a child?

“Exactly. Did you ever get those electronics kits as a kid for like 20 bucks from RadioShack? Where you connect this wire to that one and a light bulb turns on? It's very much like that.”

There's an element of chaos, she said, that makes synth noodling a neat way to stumble on melodies that she might not have consciously assembled. She played with the synths by herself all day. “I don't stop, necessarily,” she said, reflecting on what the idea of “vacation” means to someone for whom “job” and “things I love to do” happen to overlap more or less exactly. “I just get to do other things that are really fun. I'm in control of my time.” She had plans to see a show at the New Museum, read books, play music and see movies alone, always sitting on the aisle so she could make a quick escape if necessary. But she will probably keep working. St. Vincent doesn't have hobbies.

When it manifests in a person, this synergy between life and work is an almost physically perceptible quality, like having brown eyes or one leg or being beautiful. Like beauty, it's a result of luck, and a quality that can invoke total despair in people who aren't themselves allotted it. This isn't to say that Clark's career is a stroke of unearned fortune but that her skills and character and era and influences have collided into a perfect storm of realized talent. And to have talent and realize that talent and then be beloved by thousands for exactly the thing that is most special about you: Is there anything a person could possibly want more? Is this why Annie Clark glows? Or is it because she's super pale? Or was it because there was a sound coming through the window where we sat that sounded thrillingly familiar?

“Is Amy Sedaris running by?” Clark asked, her spine straightening. A man with a boom mic was visible on the sidewalk outside. Another guy in a baseball cap issued instructions to someone beyond the window. Someone said “Action!” and a figure in vampire makeup and a clown wig streaked across the sidewalk. Someone said “Cut!” and Clark zipped over for a look. It was, in fact, Amy Sedaris, her clown wig bobbing in the 44-degree breeze. The mic operator was gagging with laughter. It seemed like a good omen, this sighting, like the New York City version of Groundhog Day: If an Amy Sedaris streaks across your sight line in vampire makeup, spring will arrive early.

Blazer (men’s) $1,125, by Paul Smith

Another thing Clark does when off tour is absorb all the input that she misses when she's locked into performance mode. On a Monday afternoon, she met artist Lisa Yuskavage at an exhibition of her paintings at the David Zwirner gallery in Chelsea. Yuskavage was part of a mini-boom of figurative painting in the '90s, turning out portraits of Penthouse centerfolds and giant-jugged babes with Rembrandt-esque skill. It made sense that Clark wanted to meet her: Both women make art about the inner lives of female figures, both are sorcerers of technique, both are theatrical but introspective, both have incendiary style. The gallery was a white cube, skylit, with paintings around the perimeter. Yuskavage and Clark wandered through at a pace exclusive to walking tours of cultural spaces, which is to say a few steps every 10 to 15 seconds with pauses between for the proper amount of motionless appreciation.

The paintings were small, all about the size of a human head, and featured a lot of nipples, tufted pudenda, tan lines, majestic asses, and protruding tongues. “I like the idea of possessing something by painting it,” Yuskavage said. “That's the way I understand the world. Like a dog licking something.”

Clark looked at the works with the expression people make when they're meditating. She was wearing elfin boots, black pants, and a shirt with a print that I can only describe as “funky”—“funky” being an adjective that looks good on very few people, St. Vincent being one of them—and sipped from a cup of espresso furnished by a gallery minion. After she finished the drink, there was a moment when she looked blankly at the saucer, unsure what to do with it, and then stuck it in the breast pocket of her funky shirt for the rest of the tour.

A painting called Sweetpuss featured a bubble-butted blonde in beaded panties with nipples so upwardly erect they actually resembled little boners. Yuskavage based the underwear on a pair of real underwear that she'd constructed herself from colored balls and string. “I've got the beaded panties if you ever need 'em,” she said to Clark. “They might fit you. They're tiny.”

Earrings, by Erickson Beamon

“I'm picturing you going to the Garment District,” Clark said.

“There was a lot of going to the Garment District.”

As they completed their lap around the white cube, Clark interjected with questions—what year was this? were you considering getting into film? how long did these sittings take? what does “mise-en-scène” mean?—but mainly listened. And she is a good listener: an inquisitive head tilter, an encouraging nodder, a non-fidgeter, a maker of eye contact. She found analogues between painting and music. When Yuskavage mourned the death of lead white paint (due to its poisonous qualities, although, as the artist pointed out, “It's not that big a deal to not get lead poisoning; just don't eat the paint”), Clark compared it to recording's transition from tape to digital.

“Back in the day, if you wanted to hear something really reverberant”—she clapped; it reverberated—“you'd have to be in a room like this and record it, or make a reverb chamber,” Clark said. “Now we have digital plug-ins where you can say, ‘Oh, I want the acoustic resonance of the Sistine Chapel.’ Great. Somebody's gone and sampled that and created an algorithm that sounds like you're in the Sistine Chapel.”

Lately, she said, she's been way more into devices that betray their imperfections. That are slightly out of tune, or capable of messing up, or less forgiving of human intervention. “Air moving through a room,” Clark said. “That's what's interesting to me.”

They kept pacing. The paintings on the wall evolved. Conversation turned to what happens when you grow as an artist and people respond by flipping out.

“I always find it interesting when someone wants you to go back to ‘when you were good,’ ” Yuskavage said. “This is why we liked you.”

“I can't think of anybody where I go, ‘What's great about that artist is their consistency, ” Clark said. “Anything that stays the same for too long dies. It fails to capture people's imagination.”

Coat (mens), $1,150, by Acne Studios

They were identifying a problem with fans, of course, not with themselves. It was an implicit identification, because performers aren't permitted to critique their audiences, and it was definitely the artistic equivalent of a First World problem—an issue that arises only when you're so resplendent with talent that you not only nail something enough to attract adoration but nail it hard enough to get personally bored and move on—but it was still valid. They were talking about the kind of fan who clings to a specific tree when he or she could be roaming through a whole forest. In St. Vincent's case, a forest of prog-rock thickets and jazzy roots and orchestral brambles and mournful-ballad underlayers, all of it sprouting and molting under a prodigious pop canopy. They were talking about the strange phenomenon of people getting mad at you for surprising them. Even if the surprise is great.

Molly Young is a writer living in New York City. She wrote about Donatella Versace in the April 2018 issue of GQ.

A version of this story originally appeared in the February 2019 issue with the title "Switching Lanes With St. Vincent."

#st vincent #annie clark #gq #interviews #shakespeare citations #christ on a cracker #lmao

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