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redgillan · 4 years

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Under Pastel Skies - 3

Sugar daddy!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Modern!AU Bucky doesn’t need anyone, especially not a sugar baby. He isn’t that desperate… but she smiles so sweetly and she’s endearingly awkward, and he’s so lonely. She’s an artist, a painter, the type of person who always puts others before herself. Throwing caution to the wind Bucky offers her a place to live, a place where she can finally paint whatever her heart desires. He doesn’t need much in return; a friend, a muse.

Word Count: 2,587

Warnings: none

A/N: I wanted to give Reader a family and this is the easiest way to do it. Btw Peggy’s husband isn’t Steve, I have other plans for him ;) Enjoy!

Wannabe sugar daddies don’t interact, idc if you have money, eat it and leave me be.

The rest of the week went by, and you kept hoping Bucky would come back. You hadn’t seen him since he’d left 300 dollars under his napkin after visiting you at work. You had tucked the bills into your bra, knowing they would be safe there, and walked home at the end of your shift.

Now it was Thursday afternoon and you were craving a day off.

Natasha’s apartment was spacious and the oversized glass window bathed the living room in natural sunlight. The apartment was a gift from Sam. Obviously.

You dropped your purse on the sofa –your bed- and laid out the bills on the coffee table. It was made of marble and brass, another gift from Sam.

You didn’t know what to do with the money, so you took it wherever you went, to keep it safe. You wanted to return it to Bucky. It was too much and you weren’t used to random acts of kindness.

You sunk into the cushion and blew out a sigh as you stared at the money. The persistent vibration of your phone against your thigh pulled you out of your thoughts. Half expecting it to be Natasha, you answered without looking at the caller ID.

The operator told you that Scott Lang was calling from Saint Quentin State Prison, and asked if you would accept the charges. You agreed. You always agreed.

“Splotchy, I need your help.”

Closing your eyes, you let your head fall back against the cushion. “I told you to stop calling me that, Scott.”

It was a silly nickname.

As a child, your mother dubbed you splotchy because of the colourful doodles you painted on the living room walls, and your siblings, who were roughly a few years older than you, had loved using that nickname. Especially since they knew you disliked it.

Their support and endless enthusiasm played a big part in your artistic journey, nurturing that spark into a flame. What started out as a childlike fascination with colours and shapes became your whole life. No one was surprised when you decided to pursue a degree in fine arts.

After the death of her husband, Peggy Carter adopted five children; a little boy from San Francisco, a little girl from Wakanda, twins from Sokovia and a little girl whose birth parents were still in high school. You were the last one, the only one she adopted as a baby.

“Is it offensive to call an artist splotchy?”

“It’s irrelevant. I haven’t painted in months,” you replied. “And we’re not kids anymore, you can use my name.”

“I’ve been calling you Splotchy for so long, I forgot your actual name.”

“You’re so funny,” you deadpanned. “What do you need, Scott?”

Scott’s tone changed suddenly, his voice grew agitated. “I need you to call Maggie. She isn’t picking up when I call her.”

“Scott,” you sighed.

“I haven’t talked to Cassie since her birthday,” he cut you off, pleading. “Please, I just want to talk to my little girl.”

Maggie was Scott’s ex-wife. Six months after his incarceration, she had filed for divorce. Natasha thought it was a real dick move but you didn’t blame Maggie. She was alone, her husband was in jail –for basically being a dumbass although the official charge was embezzlement and destruction of property- and she had a kid to raise.

Maggie wasn’t a saint but she was a good mother, and Cassie was a smart and healthy kid. Now you knew what to do with Bucky’s money.

“I’ll call her,” you said. “Listen, I’m going to put 50 bucks on your book. Buy yourself a bar of soap, I can smell you from here.” Scott interrupted you with a monotone ‘har har’. You chuckled. “I’ll buy Cassie a Christmas gift on your behalf, all right? I think she wanted a bike.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you,” he chanted over the phone, his voice muffled as if he was holding the receiver too close to his mouth. “Are you sure you can afford it? I know it isn’t easy for you. Between living in New York and paying for mom’s nursing home, you don’t have to-”

“It’s fine,” you said, cutting off the conversation. “I’m not alone, Okoye helps.”

“And Wanda?”

“She sends postcards from time to time.”

The line went quiet for a moment. “I want to get out of here so bad,” Scott groaned. “Everything’s gone to shit since I went to jail.”

“Everything’s gone to shit since Pietro died, Scott.” You both remained silent, remembering your late brother. Just thinking about him made your eyes start to prickle with tears, so you cleared your throat and ended the call. “I’ll talk to Maggie. You’ll be out soon, just... stay out of trouble. Love you.”

You left your phone on the table and kicked off your shoes before you lay down on the sofa for a well-deserved nap. In your dreams your brothers weren’t either dead or in prison, your mother hadn’t been diagnosed with Alzheimer, and you weren’t a burden to your friend.

If you were lucky enough, you wouldn’t even dream at all.

The next day, Bucky arrived at the hotel at six thirty and you playfully glared at him from across the lounge. He wasn’t stupid, he knew why you were glaring at him. At least he had the decency to look a little sheepish.

“Just so you know, you bought yourself about 30 breakfasts,” you told him, referring to the far-too-generous tip he had left the other day.

“A man’s gotta eat,” he replied with a boyish cockiness that made him look stupidly attractive. You were too flustered to find a good comeback.

You brought him his cup of coffee and let him enjoy his breakfast while you attended to your other clients. It was an unusually busy day, the room was packed with families who were getting ready to explore Manhattan. You didn’t have time to chat with Bucky and he didn’t stay long. You saw him flinch a couple of times; the muscles in his shoulders pulled tight and his eyes darting left and right.

He left another ridiculously generous tip, along with a handwritten note. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day x.

Bucky came back the following week, and even though it was a quiet morning, you made sure to find him a table in a secluded spot. He didn’t notice when you slipped the 300 dollars into the pocket of his coat. You could be pretty sneaky, too.

“Mmmh,” he said, wiping his mouth with a napkin, “I looked at your Instagram.”

“Oh,” you glanced at your shoes, embarrassed. “Wait, you’re on Instagram? I have a hard time imagining you scrolling through your feed.”

He laughed a little. “I’ll admit I’m not as tech savvy as you youngsters, but I’m not a fossil. I use it to look at the pictures my sister post of my niblings.”

“Cute,” you grinned.

“Anyway,” he said, pushing a hand through his hair. “I love your work. It’s very unique; a cross between Impressionism and Post-impressionism. It’s realistic, and yet there’s something different...” his face scrunched up as he tried to look for the right word. “There’s something in your paintings, something that isn’t here in real life but perhaps should be. It’s hard to explain. It’s a feeling, a color, a pattern; it’s indiscernible but it’s there.” He looked up at you, his cheeks red with embarrassment. “I’m not making much sense, am I?”

You blinked, suddenly stunned that someone had such strong opinions about your work. There was nothing but sincerity in his ocean-blue eyes, and for a moment, you were at a loss for words.

“I, um-” you cleared your throat, “Thank you, I didn’t know that. I look up to Monet, obviously. His work is phenomenal, and I also have a soft spot for Van Gogh.” You ran a hand across your face. “Sorry, I’m a little emotional. The people who compliment my art are usually my siblings, and Nat.”

“And now me,” he said with a warm smile. “And soon a lot more people.”

Flustered, you bit your bottom lip. “That would be nice.”

Bucky nodded. He gathered his silverware and set them on his plate, trying to buy time. You watched him hesitate before he turned to you. “I noticed that your last post was from almost a year ago.”

“Yeah,” you said with a casual shrug. “I don’t really paint anymore. I’m too tired when I get home and supplies are expensive.”

“Of course,” he pursed his lips in thought. “Are you free this afternoon? I was wondering if we could meet for coffee.”

You tried not to show your surprise but his words made the sleeping butterflies in your stomach crack an eye open, their interest piqued.

Was he asking you out? He’d come to your workplace every week since your brief ‘date’. He always gave you more-than-generous tips, and he listened to you with a combination of close attention and warmth that made you weak at the knees.

He’d made it clear he wasn’t looking for anyone but maybe he had changed his mind. Agh, down girl! He just wanted a friend.

You looked into his beautiful eyes, seeing a myriad of expressions cross his face before he smiled at you.

“I ain’t gonna hurt you, angel.”

It was an honest lie, just hearing him call you angel felt like a punch to the stomach. The butterflies were dancing around, reborn, and chanting the word ‘date’.

“If you don’t like coffee, we can have tea, or ice cream,” he said, “anything as long as you can sit down with me.”

You snorted. “Okay.”

“Okay,” he repeated, smiling. “This is my number. Pick a place and I’ll meet you there.”

After breakfast, you closed the restaurant and started cleaning the Lounge. You brought everything back to the kitchen, stacked the dishes in the dishwasher and turned it on. Then you put away the unopened miniature jams, butter and whatnot, and gathered the remaining patisseries and fresh fruits in a basket that you would later bring to the reception.

You worked mechanically. It wasn’t exactly the most exciting job you’d ever had.

You couldn’t stop thinking about Bucky. It was easy to let your mind wander into the cosy and dangerous territory of this being a real date.

You decided to go to the Australian coffee shop near Natasha’s apartment. It was popular but not as crowded as Starbucks, which suited you fine.

After your shift, you removed your uniform and changed into the spare set of clothes you kept in your locker for emergencies. Emergencies being an impromptu date or a night out with Nat. You dug around in your purse for your lipstick; the nice one, the Carter Red as your mother called it.

You dabbed the lipstick on your lips, staining them. You only wore it on special occasions, and you weren’t sure Bucky deserved your full red pout.

You walked to the café with a little pep in your step and a confident smile on your face. The freezing temperature didn’t matter, you were too giddy to care. It was a date, it had to be, why else would he ask you to meet for coffee?

You smiled when you saw him through the coffee shop window. He was chatting with the waiter as the latter set two mugs on the table.

“Hi again!” You shrugged out of your jacket and took a seat.

“I hope you like hot chocolate. Carl, here, says it’s their best seller,” Bucky said, smiling kindly at the waiter.

“Enjoy, and if you need anything else don’t hesitate to call me.”

You carefully wrapped your cold hands around your mug while you watched Carl walk away. A moment of silence rose between you. Bucky watched you with an unreadable expression, making you fidget in your seat.

“I’m glad you came,” he finally said.

“Me too. I’m a little surprised you asked.”

He looked down at his mug and smiled; it didn’t reach his eyes. “I have something to ask you.” He paused. “The night we met, you said you agreed to see me because being in a... financial relationship felt like the only solution to your problems.”

Your smile faltered but he didn’t seem to notice. Oh. The butterflies in your stomach fell so suddenly that it felt like carrying a ball of lead. They went back into hibernation.

“If I had been a decent person and, I don’t know, bought you a drink, talked to you,” he paused, meeting your eyes. “Would you have been interested in this type of relationship? With me, I mean.”

You swallowed hard. “You want to be my sugar daddy.”

It wasn’t a question but a statement. You were slowly realizing that you had been wrong about his intentions. This wasn’t a date, it was a business afternoon tea.

He winced. “Do we really have to call it that? I was thinking mentorship. I can provide financial help, and in exchange you could be my friend.”

“I can be your friend for free,” you said, your throat tightening.

He shrugged, a small smile on his lips. “This way we’ll both get something out of it.”

You looked down at your hands, still wrapped around the mug, and pursed your lips in thought. You felt a sharp tingling sensation in your nose, a sign that you were about to cry. You closed your eyes and clenched your jaw, fighting against the flood that was coming.

You pushed all the emotion down and forced a smile to your face. “Do you mind if I use the restroom? I just took the subway, I’d like to wash my hands.”

Bucky watched you, momentarily stunned by your request. “Of course, take your time,” he quickly recovered.

“Thanks,” you croaked, pushing your chair back.

You picked up your bag and walked to the restroom, your legs feeling like cotton wool. You didn’t need to use the restroom, you had walked to the café, but you needed a moment alone to collect yourself.

A woman came out of the restroom, holding the door open for you. You picked up the pace and thanked her before closing the door behind you. You looked pretty sickly under the artificial light of the restroom. Your eyes were glassy with tears and your red lips were taunting you.

“Got your hopes up, uh?” You watched your lips move. A little humourless chuckle escaped you and you shook your head at your own idiocy.

You aggressively wiped the lipstick off your mouth with the back of your hand and sighed deeply as you looked at your reflection in the mirror. Now you felt like an idiot.

It wasn’t Bucky’s fault. He had been nothing but nice and kind, and perhaps you had mistaken his kindness for flirting. A naïve mistake. You had always been a little clueless when it came to men.

You ran your index fingers under your eyes to get rid of the makeup that had gathered there. It wasn’t the end of the world, you barely knew him anyway. It didn’t hurt any less, though.

Maybe it was time for you to do something out of character, to experience life no matter how crazy it seemed. You were dreading this conversation with Bucky, but you couldn’t hide in the restroom forever. With another sigh, you pushed yourself away from the sink and walked out of the restroom.

Part 4

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagines #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel imagine #bucky barns imagine #redgillan #redgillanwrites

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amysteriousmessenger · 3 years

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I'm not sure how late I am to ask for something off of your prompt list. If you are still accepting these prompts, what about 21: ‘Is that a lovebite?’ with Vanderwood or Yoosung. Whoever you are comfortable writing for 😊

I hope you like this!! I love lovebites so much, I think they’re super cute <3 also CW: alcohol and mild references to mild nsfw

‘Is that a lovebite?’ - Yoosung Kim X Reader Drabble

-‘Yoosung, we’re going to be late! Turn off the game, already!’ You stood in the door way to Yoosung’s dorm room, his flatmates had all gone home for half term for Yoosung preferred to stay at his university accommodation so he could ‘study’, essentially meaning he could play LOLOL without any interruption for days on end. You’d come to stay with him for a bit when Zen had suggested everyone met up for a few drinks if they were free, which you were very excited about. ‘Just two minutes, ____! - ‘Can’t you pause it?’ ‘You can’t pause an online game, I’m nearly done!’ - ‘Right, you have two minutes.’ ‘Alright guys, I’ll just raid this room and then I’ll have to head off for the night. Stay strong without me.’ He said into his mic as the flurry of fingers against his keyboard suddenly picked up speed.

You adjusted your necklace and slipped your boots on, stumbling over slightly as you did so. You then also checked yourself over once again in the mirror to make sure your outfit sat right. It wasn’t often that you got to hang out with everyone, so you wanted to make an effort for it whilst you had the chance. You tapped your foot as you waited for Yoosung to emerge from his room. When he finally did appear, he was dressed and furiously brushing his teeth to speed up time as he threw his wallet, ID, keys and a tub of ‘lucky stew’ that he had lovingly made for Zen as a congratulations on his new role into his rucksack. Yoosung stopped and looked up at you, his eyes instantly sparkling as he took in your appearance. Through a mouthful of toothpaste, he mumbled: ‘Wow, ____. You look really pretty!’ - ‘Thanks, Yoosung. You look really pretty too,’ You smiled and laughed at your own response, giving him a kiss on the cheek to avoid getting the toothpaste on you, ‘but we’re also really late so I’m going to call the taxi.’ You turned away to dial and very quickly Yoosung got everything together and locked up so the two of you could stand outside for the taxi to arrive. It was only when the taxi arrived that you realised you could see something peaking out of Yoosung’s collar. Oh my god, was that a- - ‘Yoosung, is that a lovebite?’ You blushed, and with a slight panic realised that everyone else was going to see it. It’s not that they didn’t know that you and Yoosung were together, but you would be so embarrassed if they saw a lovebite on him. You didn’t even remember doing it, which felt worse! You tried to recall, and almost instantly a whirlwind of last night’s scenes played through your head and yeah, you did give him a lovebite. Yoosung looked as distressed as you did, immediately knowing that Seven and Zen would never let him live it down. He also knew how embarrassed you would be if you got bullied about it, but before he had the chance to go and change into a turtleneck, the taxi arrived. Just your luck.

Yoosung didn’t mind having a lovebite from you, he actually thought it was rather cute, but oh god, his life was flashing before his eyes as the taxi ride continued. He can see Seven’s shit-eating grin already. He can hear Zen’s laughing. - ‘I have an idea!’ you said as you started rummaging through your bag, ‘I have some concealer!’ ‘Will that work? Won’t it be obvious that I’m wearing make up?’ He replied, slightly unsure of the stick of make up you were presenting proudly to him. - ‘It might not be the right shade for you, but I’ve used it on lovebites you’ve given me.’ He seemed bashful at your response, probably because the taximan was giving the two of you strange glances in his rear-view mirror, not that it was any of his business. You smudged come of the cream concealer onto your finger and applied it to the purple mark that sat just above the side of his collarbone. You had to apply a few layers to the bruise because it seemed as though you really went to town on his neck. You moved back to get another look at it, it was less obvious but it was still sort of visible. You rummaged once again in your bag and found some powder to set it with, explaining to your boyfriend that as long as he didn’t sweat the make-up probably wouldn’t budge. He seemed a little less scared for his life as he looked in the reflection of his phone and thanked you for the make up.

When you arrived to the bar, everyone had already taken a seat, except for Seven who was apparently finding somewhere to park because he didn’t trust people on the main road to not damage his baby. So far so good, you sat down next to Yoosung on the side of the lovebite so no one would turn to glance that way to talk to him and no one seemed to notice it was there. The waiter came to take your drinks and Yoosung gave Zen the lucky stew, who seemed less than pleased about the gift but accepted it under the promise that there was no salted ham in there, since Zen had to think about this face. This then earned a response from Jumin stating that Zen never stopped thinking about his face, and it very quickly descended into chaos. Jaehee looked as though she was ready to start knocking back shots to deal with the stress of having to spend her Friday night with her boss, but resigned herself to conservatively sipping on a light spritzer until Jumin went home.

You wondered what was taking Seven so long to park, and you also noted that you had to remember to thank him for offering to drive you and Yoosung back home after the end of the night, he didn’t drink alcohol so he was automatically the designated driver and you were very excited to get to ride in one of his fancy cars. Just as you were thinking this, you suddenly heard his voice greeting the group. The redhead pulled up a seat at the table and ordered himself a Dr Pepper and said hi to everyone properly. He stopped at Yoosung, squinting slightly before breaking into the smuggest shit-eating grin you think you’d ever seen on him. Oh no. Your heart stopped. ‘Yoosung, is that a lovebite?’

#mystic messenger #yoosung kim #yoosung kim x reader #mystic messenger self insert #mystic messenger x reader #mystic messenger reader insert #mystic messenger headcanons #mystic messenger hcs

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writingwithadinosaur · 4 years

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“Under the Knife” - Part 6

My Masterlist - Here

Story Masterlist - Here

My Tag List - Here

Hannibal Lecter x Reader, Will Graham x Sister!Reader

Word Count: 3,500-ish

Key: Chunks of text in italics are (Y/N)’s thoughts. Y/N = Your Name, H/C = Your Hair Color, E/C = Your Eye Color

Warnings: Cursing, Mentions of Death, Murder, and Violence

Summary: You are Will Graham’s sister who works with him at the FBI. When you get offered a job promotion, life starts to change. Some changes for the better; Some for the worst.

Author’s Note: This is my first Hannibal piece and I am proud of it. There aren’t too many stories for Hannibal, so I figured I would add to the collection.

This does take place in some happy medium where they are all alive and work together. Sort of a happier season 1 era.

This is beta-read by @theeactress, but please let me know if there is something that we missed or that we should look at again!

If you would like to be tagged in any of my future pieces, check out my tag list above and let me know! And as always, feedback is greatly appreciated!

- DreaSaurusREX

Tag List:

@fruitloopzzz @theeactress @melconnor2007 @ashenfallsof @geeksareunique @all-by-myself98 @sj-thefan @fuck-your-bad-vibes-dude @ntlmundy @a-person-unlabled

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

The last few days were weird for you. While working the Virginia Scalpel case, you still had to give lectures and work the occasional museum shift. Luckily you were able to give more and more of your museum shifts to your coworkers, saying that you needed the time to focus on the case or to finalize your lecture outlines.

Between two lectures and a museum shift, you were able to narrow down your suspect list even more. Pulling every male doctor within a 50-mile radius who fit the height range and who wasn’t super young, old, or generally weak looking. You dropped it off to Jack’s office while he was in a meeting of some sort, thankful that you wouldn’t have to talk to him just yet.

After that night at the Pencalt crime scene, things seemed to take more energy than you expected. You could get up and function through your work day, but when it came to socializing or even having to have work related conversations, you found yourself doing them through email or not at all. This included talking to Hannibal or Will.

Both of them had tried calling or texting you, and you’d try to respond with a “Can’t talk right now,” or an “I’m busy.” But sometimes you didn’t have the energy and straight up ignored them.

You knew what they wanted to talk about. And you had to admit that after letting it settle in your brain, you wanted to too. But you knew that that conversation would be a long one that required patience.

Which is why you decided to call in sick and work from home today. You weren’t scheduled a lecture or a museum shift, and everything you planned on doing in your office could be done at home.

You understood the urgency of this case. The team only had about a week left to catch this guy before another doctor would be found in pieces. But you weren’t the only one working this case, and you were still waiting on results from Beverly, Price, and Zeller. So you justified taking today a bit slower and tried to fit in some breaks for self-care as you worked.

The day started out with a peaceful breakfast, something you hadn’t had since before you joined Jack’s team. It was different and odd feeling now, but you tried your best to enjoy it and let your mind relax. After you put your stuff in the dishwasher, you sat down where your work stuff was set up at your dining room table, and felt your mind wander.

I know I should talk to Will or Hannibal, but that would be so draining right now. No. Just focus on breathing and getting as much as you can done today, alright, (Y/N)? We don’t need you combusting over personal shit while your killer is still out there. Now, what haven’t we gone over yet?

You started to sift through some of your scribbles as a piece of paper slid out of place from within your notebook. You slightly tilted your head and pulled the paper out, seeing that webname that you had learned to hate.

“Tattle Crime”

You were going to shove the article back into your book, but you knew that your curiosity would only grow the longer you didn’t read it. With a disapproving sigh, you went ahead and read the article.

Freddie Lounds didn’t spend much time talking about the killer. She states that Dr. Pencalt was found like the other victims, and how he was a doctor with no obvious correlation to the others. Her “article” tends to focus more on you, Hannibal, and Will.

“Much like her brother Will Graham, who we have talked about before, (Y/N) supposedly has a gift for the psychologically strange and unusual. But we have to wonder why he isn’t working this case? Will Graham has successfully assisted Jack Crawford and his team on multiple cases in the past. So why bring on a rookie when you have a prized horse in the stables?

Maybe that is why Crawford decided to bring in Dr. Lecter, who was also an integral role in some of the cases that Will Graham had worked on. He has years of medical knowledge outside the realm of psychology that could be helpful in this case, considering the Virginia Scalpel is suspected to have a medical background.. Maybe he will be the key to locking the Virginia Scalpel up for good?”

She then went on to talk more about Hannibal before bringing up the case again. You couldn’t even fully grasp at what you were reading or how to feel about any of it before your phone rang beside you, bringing you back to reality. Only, you didn’t really want to deal with reality when you saw that the caller ID said “Jack Crawford.”

“(Y/N) here.” You tried your best to not sound unenthused, but you couldn’t help the obvious apathy in your voice.

“How soon can you get here?” You knew that this would end with you coming into the office for who knows how long, so you begrudgingly stood up and started to try to find a comfy but work appropriate outfit to change into while talking to Crawford.

“I mean… An hour? Maybe? Give or take 10 minutes. Why? What happened?”

“Got that evidence you were waiting for.” You couldn’t discern if he was at all happy about that.

Of course the one day I try to take it easy is the day we get results. You took a deep breath in and tried to form a coherent sentence.

“I--Uh… Okay. I’ll try to--”

“I’ll see you in the lab in an hour.” Jack interrupted and then hung up before you could say much else, knowing that that was an order, not a suggestion. You put your phone down and groaned before starting to get dressed.

~~~~~~~~

Pulling into your normal parking spot, you saw that you had made it to the office with 15 minutes to spare thanks to you not having the energy to do your hair or makeup today.

You got to your office and left the door open, knowing you would only be there for a minute or two. While you unpacked your bag, you heard someone clear their throat from your doorway. Turning around, you saw Will standing in the threshold with two cups of coffee.

“Look what the cat dragged in.” He tried to joke, but you just shot him a look. He winced and extended one of the cups out to you. “Peace offering?”

You sigh and accept the cup, not sure of what to say other than a quick “thanks.” Will stood there while you took a sip and continued to set up your stuff.

“You haven’t answered any of my texts.”

“I’ve been busy. And I’m still quite busy. I have to go and meet with everyone in,” you look at the clock on the wall. “5 minutes.”

“Jack’s really got his hooks in you, huh?”

“I tried to take a sick day and work from home, but lab results are in. Which means I’m also in.”

“Sick Day? You never use sick days.”

“First time for everything, I guess.” You turn around and try to walk past him but he stops you.

“(Y/N), I-”

“I really don’t want to talk. At least not right now. You and Hannibal are on thin ice right now. And there are more important a-and time sensitive things that need to be taken care of.”

“Look, (Y/N), I can explain--”

“Explain what exactly? That you really didn’t trust me when I said that I could handle myself? That you really think I am going to let Jack push me so much during my first real case that you had to have Hannibal step in as some sort of watchdog? I know you’ve had bad experiences with Jack, but goddamnit can’t you just let me learn and experience whatever happens on my own?”

“You’re upset--”

“No shit, Sherlock.”

“And I-I get that, but just--”

“No. I have a job to do.”

“Then come by the house later. Have a drink, o-or we can get takeout, and I can tell you my side of the story.”

You paused as you looked down slightly and started to fidget with your ring. Will is looking in your general direction, trying to figure out how to ease the anxiety that was surely coursing through your amygdala and hippocampus, or at least some of the resentment that had fought its way through your eyes.

“Even if you don’t want to talk and we end up just sitting around, I’m sure the dogs would like to see their favorite aunt.”

“I’m their only aunt.” You both smiled at the joke. His smile was more out of relief while yours was just a quick smirk. His fades quickly as you rub your face and sigh out, “We’ll see. I have no idea what’s waiting for me in the lab. So I can’t promise anything. And as upset as I am with you, I do miss those dogs.”

“Just let me know when you decide and we will make time for it.”

You just nod and he lets you walk past. Will follows you out and closes the door behind the two of you. Before you could hit the elevator button, he spoke out to you.

“Despite what you think, I do care about you, you know.”

You stop in your tracks and turn around to face him. You could see the pain on his face even though you know he was trying to hide it. Your heart broke as you took a large inhale.

“I know you do. We’re family. We’ll always care about each other no matter what.” You give him a small smile to try to reassure him that what you were saying was true. He nodded and headed back towards the lecture halls and you hit the button to call the elevator, preparing yourself for as much insanity as you could.

~~~~~~~~

“(Y/N), right on time” Jack announced as you walked into the lab. Everyone was there and ready to go, including Hannibal who was on the other side of the table facing you. You hoped that he wouldn’t put together how off you were feeling today from your rushed appearance.

“Sorry, I would have been here sooner, but I had a run-in with my brother. What’ve I missed so far?” You opened up your notebook and joined the circle around the exam table that had Dr. Pencalt’s body on it. You internally winced as you realized that Hannibal was most likely going to ask you about your ‘run-in’ with Will after this meeting.

“Nothing yet. We were just about to start.” Zeller spoke up as he clapped his hands together and began his presentation. A lot of it was information that was similar to the previous victims. All of the cuts were made with surgical tools to ensure clean cuts, no obvious mutilations outside the killer’s usual, all focus was on the doctor as opposed to his wife, and so on.

“The paralytic that was used on Dr. Pencalt was the same as the other vics. It was a high enough dosage that he felt the effects within a minute or two.”

“Do you have the location and angle on the injection point?” Zeller nodded and handed you a printout that had various information about the small needle mark: diameter, insertion angle, depth, et cetera.

“He was pricked right here.” He used a gloved hand to turn Dr. Pencalt’s head and point to a small dot on the side of his neck. You just nodded and tried to imagine the killer coming and attacking him. You were starting to solidify the height range of your suspect.

“The angle is pretty flat, which means our suspect is either the same height as him or maybe an inch taller or shorter. How tall was Dr. Pencalt?” You heard Jimmy open a file and hum a note as he found out.

“5 foot 11.” You nodded and saw the height range of the shadowy silhouette of the killer in your mind narrow.

“So our killer is between 5’10” and 6’.”

“Is that all?” Jack asked in an audibly annoyed voice. You weren’t sure if it was directed at you specifically or at the situation in general. Jimmy, Brian, and Beverly all looked at each other as if they were kids who had broken an expensive vase and had to tell dad. Beverly was the brave kid that stepped forward.

“No. There is one more thing.” She turned around and got a tray from the other side of the room, bringing it back to the circle. “This was found lodged in his throat.”

On the tray, there was a distorted but still legible article from TattleCrime.com, the same article that was in your apartment. The only major difference was that this one was highlighted wherever it mentioned Hannibal or you.

“We tried to pull any sort of prints or DNA off of it, but the only thing we got was Dr. Pencalt’s blood and saliva. The article is from our favorite tabloid, Tattle Crime. It’s about the case, but it also talks about (Y/N) and Hannibal...”

You tried to control your breathing as Beverly kept speaking, forcing yourself to take slightly deeper breaths than normal hoping no one would pick up on it as you finally spoke up.

“So, fun story…” Everyone’s eyes landed on you. “I have that same article printed out, but I didn’t print it. Someone slipped it under my door the other night.”

You saw Jack readjust his stance, a frustrated look growing in his eyes, and started to speak, but you cut him off, already knowing where this was going.

“I didn’t bring it up because I honestly thought Hannibal or Will had slid it into my apartment as a way to try to scare me and make me resign from the case. For personal reasons, I have avoided talking to either of them unless it was absolutely necessary. So I never confirmed my theory.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at Hannibal or Jack. But if you had, you would have seen the small bit of guilt in Hannibal’s face. He knew no one else would pick up on it because he was a master at keeping his mask on to others, but after being with him as long as you had, you could see between the cracks.

Jack looked towards Hannibal.

“Dr. Lecter, did you send the article to (Y/N)?”

“I did not. I’m just as taken aback as everyone else here.”

“And did you receive a copy of this article at any point during the last week?”

“No. I have not read anything from Miss Lound’s website for a significant amount of time now.” Jack took a breath in and tried to be logical and figure out what the next step needed to be.

“Alright, you guys get me a list of every medical facility that supplies that paralytic. (Y/N), get your copy and give it to Price to see if he can get anything off of it. Then I want you and Dr. Lecter in my office.” Jack walked out before anyone could say anything.

You stood there in a bit of shock as you looked at the soiled article in front of you. You tried to read through the bits of blurred text. Everything involving you or Hannibal was doused in bright yellow marker.

“Um… (Y/N)?” You couldn’t help the small instinctual jump as Jimmy tapped your shoulder. You quickly looked to him, trying to look okay despite learning that your name was literally in a key piece of evidence. “You okay?”

“Hm? Y-yeah! I mean, not really, but we’re not gonna talk about that right now.” You let out a forced exhale that you tried to make sound like a chuckle through a very forced smile. Before Price could ask anything else, you spoke up. “Here. It-its right here.”

“And you were the only one to touch this, right?” Price asked as he carefully grabbed the corners of your Tattle Crime article with clean and gloved hands. You just nodded in response. “I’ll let you know if I find anything.”

You mutter a quick thank you and then make your way back to the elevator and back to your office to write out your notes on the killer’s more specific height range and the highlighted sections of the article in your notebook.

Why us? I can somewhat understand Hannibal being chosen from an occupational standpoint. He is not only a psychiatrist, but he used to be a surgeon. But he has no ties to any of these other doctors. And what’s so special about me? I’m not a doctor of any kind. I don’t fit the killer’s m.o.

Your mind kept going on this internal monologue, trying to find any solid reasoning as to why both of you are now being focused on. It got even more frantic as you realized you only had about a week to figure it all out.

Before you could write out much, you heard a soft knock on your open office door. You didn’t even bother looking up.

“Will, I really can’t do this right now. I told you I would text you when-- Oh. Sorry, Dr. Lecter.” You expected Will to be impatient and try to talk to you again, but instead you were met with the careful gaze of Hannibal.

“No need to apologize.” He shut the door behind him and took a seat. “I thought you were comfortable with addressing me by my first name, (Y/N). Has that changed?”

“Look, I know you’re not really here to talk about that. But I’m not okay enough to talk about our personal lives at the moment. And if you’re here to ask about the Tattle Crime shit, I have no idea how--”

“I came to check up on you because I am worried about you, (Y/N).” You were taken aback for a moment. Not only does Hannibal usually never interrupt you when speaking, but he isn't always the most forthcoming when talking about emotions or concern.

“I’m fine.” You go back to trying to write out your ideas, knowing that if you gave him a fake smile, Hannibal would see right through it.

“The fact that you clearly stated that you were ‘not okay enough to talk about our personal lives’ and that you planned on taking a sick day today says otherwise.”

You took a deep inhale and closed your notebook. Trying to not dump all of your thoughts, work related or personal, on him.

“It wasn’t really a sick day. It was supposed to be a day where I worked from home to try to remind myself to take a break and eat an actual meal, or do my laundry that’s been piling up, or maybe finally hang up that frame I bought three weeks ago. But apparently that wasn’t in my cards today. Yes, I’m tired. Yes, I don’t want to be around people right now. Yes, I really don’t want to be talking to you or Will about anything other than work right now. So if I need to be here, then I’m here. That’s my job.”

“But no matter how stressful a job is, you need to be able to recalibrate your mind so as to not overwork yourself until you become a hindrance. Holding on to the frustration and betrayal that you feel are surely contributing to that lack of ability to rest, (Y/N). If you allow yourself to talk to Will about it, or even myself if you feel more comfortable--”

“All of my focus is trying to go to this case, moreso now that you and I may be targets. I am your colleague and your friend. But I really don’t want to ruin the good relationship that we have by talking to you like I’m one of your patients, because I’m not one of your patients. So please, just--”

You stopped yourself as you felt something click into place. Hannibal watched as you had a similar look in your eyes like how he had witnessed at the Pencalt crime scene.

“Patient…” You were slowly closing your mind’s eye and seeing things clearly.

“You’ve figured something out, haven’t you?” Hannibal leaned forward in his seat in curiosity, truly enthralled by watching how your brain worked in these situations.

“A patient! The killer is a patient! Oh my god! We gotta go now!” You quickly stood up, grabbing your notebook as you did. “I think I just figured out who our killer is!”

#hannibal lecter #Hannibal TV #hannibal fanfiction #hannibal fandom #will graham #hannibal lecter x reader #will graham x reader

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brbjustdying · 3 years

Text

Owen/Avery - 14/03/2021

You

15:47 - got a favor to ask

Dancer

15:50 - call me when u want love

He tapped the phone icon, hoping she would pick up the first time. she liked to let him wait.

“Hello Order. It’s been a while, I saw the news, how are you dealing with the loss of your nemesis?”

Of course everyone would know about it…

“Pretty well. It’s about that, the favor.”

“Oh, pretty boy switched sides because of you? Can’t say I’m surprised. He’s your type.”

“It’s absolutely not what happened, stop. Can you handle his file? And I’ll forget about the waterfall incident. No more debt. Just this one favor.”

“Sounds like I’m getting more than I’m giving. Why do you care?”

“Because there’s a lot of good in it for me. It’s always nice when someone switches sides and you get all their knowledge don’t you think?”

“I see. Give me some time for the pictures, and see for any name change, or family names or whatever. Have it by 3 AM, I’ll be done with the pictures by then. But I won’t make any kind of ID or anything, I sold all my equipment a few months ago.”

“No worries, I’ll talk to Demeter about it.”

He heard the woman laugh on the other end of the line.

“They’re out of business, you should know it.”

“Favors don’t disappear when you go out of business, you should know that. I’ll text you the details, bye.”

“Bye Order, don’t get used by Adam, he might be nice but you never know if it’s a ruse.”

He hung up, not wanting to hear more.

He wasn’t stupid, but he also knew he wasn’t important enough to be used in such a scheme.

His ties with the villain world weren’t the strongest, and he had very little influence there. He was mostly known for getting in the way, but always having people owe him for some reason. That’s what he got for being gifted with such a strong power he guessed.

“Are you sure? I don’t mind helping you know.”

“Stop it, I like cooking. Besides, I have something else for you to do.”

“Oh?”

He laid down the paper he’d printed at work.

“This is your current identity. Everything I could find in your public record. Now, I’ve asked a friend to help me change it. It’s something we do pretty often when someone switches sides, to protect them. This friend is going to change every record of you, altering your picture so it’s different but similar. People won’t notice the difference, but if they see the real you they will just think you look similar. It helps a whole lot trust me. If there’s anything you want to change, you can just cross it out and rewrite it. I got some colorful pens somewhere… Dancer hates purple so use it as much as you want.”

“Dancer?”

“My friend. She’s currently doing the pictures.”

Adam grabbed the pen, looking unsure at the idea.

“Is it really necessary?”

“You’ve been declared a criminal by the administration, and with a really high bounty. everyone will be trying to get you as soon as you step a foot outside.”

“Oh.”

Owen internally sighed. This was all new for the guy. Of course it would feel weird.

“What am I supposed to change? What’s the things that matter the most basically.”

Well, that was a quick change of attitude. Weird.

“Usually, place of birth, names of closest family, but also some people in the extended family. They didn’t have a file on your family so don’t worry about it, it’s not public knowledge. Things like height, weight, but just slightly. We can’t do anything about the power obviously, but you’re only supposed to use it when having a mask on so it’s usually not a problem. Most people also change their names and find an alias.”

That was the biggest one. People didn’t like changing their names, but he heard it happened very often in the academy, or even when they started as heroes. since they didn’t have aliases, they tried to have names that meant something relating to their powers or their values. Though it seemed to be marketing more than anything, it worked great and people loved to theorize around destiny and if giving your child a specific name could improve their chances at becoming a great hero one day. The number of articles made about the subject was astounding.

“You think I should change my name?”

He shrugged.

“It’s your choice. It’s very common, but it’s super personal so most people don’t want to do it. It means too much to them. You have a fairly common name, so you might be fine keeping it.”

“No I think I’d like to change it.”

“Okay, need ideas?”

He nodded.

Owen went to his office, giving Panda a scratch on the head on the way, and retrieved three books from the top shelf. They were super dusty.

When he came back, he dropped them on the table, smiling at the puff of dust that rose from them, and the disgusted expression on Adam’s face.

“Looks like the bible. Let’s see. Girls name, alphabetical order. Boy’s name, alphabetical order, Gender neutral names, alphabetical. Gender neutral?”

“Names you can give to a boy or a girl, usually a lot of non binary people like those more than heavily gendered names. It’s been changing in recent years, but it’s still difficult to be accepted if your name is closely tied to a specific gender so people often choose to change it. Have a look while I make dinner.”

He wanted to make something really nice, because he still hadn’t slept in ages, and he needed to have at least that. Then he’d have to get some sleep, because he’d had way too much coffee. Maybe one day he’d even manage to get a schedule for his sleep. Right now it couldn’t be called a schedule, it was all over the place, there was no pattern. And it made work even more intolerable.

As he was slicing a cucumber, Adam spoke again.

“I think I found one I like.”

“Hmm.”

“Avery. I really like it, or Wren. But I’m not sure, what do you think.”

“It’s your choice, you’ll be the one wearing it every day. Avery is closer to Adam so it might be easier to get used to but honestly I’m not sure.”

Chosen from the gender neutral book. Interesting.

“You think it needs to be close to the previous name?”

“Not really. I almost changed mine to Clarence so…”

“You did? Why? And why not really. If you don’t mind telling me.”

“Don’t worry. I really wanted to be called chaos, and the convention is to choose an alias with the same first letter as your name. It was really stupid though.”

“Chaos would fit you. What made you decide against it?”

“Uuuuh…”

“It’s fine.”

The truth was… A little shameful.

His mom found out about it, and told him that she’s almost named him Clyde, after the famous Bonnie and Clyde story. She also said Chaos was super corny, and didn’t suit him at all. “You’re an orderly boy Owen, and you should know yourself better. What you want is justice and peace, not chaos and destruction.”

“It’s because of my mom. God I still can’t believe you met her! I texted her and she only answered with an emoji, and now she won’t answer my calls.”

“She was really nice, don’t worry she didn’t tell anything weird about you or whatever.”

He grumbled and turned back to his cucumber. The betrayal of it all! No one was supposed to know where he lived or anything. But he’d rather have Adam know about where he lived than where his mom lived. Not that it really mattered now.

“Anything else you changed on the paperwork?”

“Made hero me a little taller, not sure how believable it is but I’m pretty small so… Also changed the date of birth by two days, and the place of birth to a city with a really similar name i found online. Do you think it’s enough?”

“Sure. Do you have allergies?”

“Not that I know of, why?”

“Just to be sure I don’t accidentally kill you, it would suck.”

Adam snickered.

“So, settled on a name?”

“I think I’m going to go with Avery. I really like the sound of it.”

Owen wished they had more time to think about this, he really did. It was a big thing, hopefully he wouldn’t change his mind in a few days or weeks.

“Alright, take pictures of the picture and send them to me, I’ll transfer them to Di- Dancer.”

Almost spilled the real name of one of his friends, great. He was getting a little too comfortable around the ex-hero.

His phone chimed, and he knew it was already done. He dressed the plate and put them on the table, Avery having moved the books out of the way to the coffee table.

“Can you take them back to my office? Last door, I think it’s open. Panda is probably sitting on the chair but you can move him if you want.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude.”

“I mean you’re probably going to stay here for a while so might as well get used to the place. Go, or I’ll eat your food!”

He dashed to the office, talking to Panda once he was there, and Owen smilled.

I really need to sleep. I can’t just be his friend so easily. God what even is happening.

Dinner went really well. They talked about a whole bunch of different things, but Owen couldn’t help but notice that Avery always avoided the subject of his family. He loved to tease Owen about his mom, but didn’t offer any information about his potential family. It could be from a desire to protect them, but seeing as the administration didn’t have any file on them, and they’d never been quoted in interviews, not even mentioned as refusing to comment for articles, he had another idea.

“Why did you call yourself order then?”

Owen looked up from his phone, trying to forget the text from Dancer that said “got the papers. fuck u for the purple, also avery is a really nice name for a really cute boy, give him my number”

“What?”

“Why order, why not something else, like… Offense? Omen? Omelet?”

“Oh I’d be a terrifying villain if I was named omelet, for sure. Told you, my mom.”

Panda walked into the room like he owned it, which he pretty much did, distracting Avery from the discussion.

The boy crouched down, smiling brightly when the cat purred and asked for more pets, meowing softly from time to time.

Damn friendly cat, already forgot me and everything I do for him.

“Well, looks like you just found your first kid. Good luck being a parent, he’s a brat.”

“How dare you! Panda has been nothing but an adorable gentleman since I met him.”

“Hmm, wait for the day where you need to take him to the vet because he knocked down an entire shelf and looks like he broke his bones but really he’s just being dramatic and messing with you.”

“Not cool Panda, not cool.”

Panda only looked smug, as usual, probably not seeing the problem in doing anything for attention.

Owen flopped on the couch, wanting nothing more than for his brain to just shut off, sleep for about a week, and not have a single thought. That never happened of course, but maybe today would be the day.

“So, what’s your villain name going to be?”

“You think I need one?”

“Unless you plan to sit on your ass while I use all the info you gave me do to something, yeah you need one.”

“True.”

He took Panda in his arms, and came to sit next to Owen.

Too close.

“Got any ideas? I don’t know how I can choose something like that… At the academy we could put suggestions, but I didn’t think they’d call me that.”

“Adam’s not your original name?”

“Nah. Don’t remember what it was though. I’ve been there for a long time.”

Weird.

“Okay. Strange.”

“They have this dude that can replace memories. He usually only uses his powers to change minimal memories from students, the name is one of them. He hates doing it, but if he’s not on the side of the administration I guess they’d hunt him down because it’s such a dangerous power.”

Huh.

“Probably yeah. Are you curious to know what the name before Adam was?”

“Kind of? I guess yeah. It might be able to tell me something about myself. Don’t know how I’d ever get that information.”

“Good thing that’s what I do then! Hang on, I’ll get my laptop so we can find you a cool villain name.”

He let Avery cuddle Panda to death, and quickly sent another text to Dancer, asking her to dig up anything she could about that.

Dancer

20:44 - this is really big Order, real big

20:45 - fuck imagine what they can do about it

20:46 - I’m getting Neon on it with me

He wouldn’t mention it to Avery unless they came up with something interesting. He didn’t need more things to worry about. He’d already offered to cover half of the rent despite staying only a day, and a bunch of unnecessary things. Where did he get his awesome morals?

“So! Most people have an idea because you don’t just decide to become a villain like that. But sometimes it happens, in that case you go online, and look up lists of words until you find one you resonate with. Here, have a loot. You can choose any letter, but I really recommend something that starts with an a.”

“Alright, let’s see.”

Panda moved to Owen, disappointed that he wasn’t the center of attention anymore. Sadly it wouldn’t be much better from his owner, who fell asleep without even knowing, only to wake up a few hours later, gently being shaken by his new friend.

“Hey Owen. It’s really late, I think you should go to sleep in your bed.”

He grumbled his answer, not sure himself what he intended to say. For once he’d actually fallen asleep, curse him for waking him up. He was comfortable too, something warm next to him.

He abruptly stood up when he realized that he’d been sleeping laying on Ad-Avery. Oh no. Oh my god no what an idiot.

The guy smiled softly, and then grabbed his hand to lead him to his room, thinking his foggy mind probably prevented him from finding his way.

Panda only moved a little, not wanting to leave the warm blanket that had ended up on both of them at some point.

When the warm hand that was holding his let go, pushing him gently towards his bed, he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep any more that night.

Owen was waiting for his coffee to brew, in a bigger french press than the previous day. He’d done his bets to be silent, but Avery still heard him.

He looked like death. Weird, considering he’d been sleeping so well the previous evening. Did he not go back to sleep after he went to his room? He didn’t make any noise, so Avery assumed he’d fallen asleep again. Did he have insomnia problems? Maybe he shouldn’t have woken him up…

He shook his head and closed the bathroom door, intending to take a short shower and then plan his next move.

It had been a weird few days.

When he stumbled here the other night, broken and lost, he didn’t expect Order to help him. Of all people, he probably should hate him the most, they had fought so much and he always got in his way.

But instead he was faced with an almost stranger. someone kind, calm, thoughtful and resourceful. Who had a pretty good fashion sense too!

He glanced at the simple cream shirt and grey sweatpants and underwear the other hand lent him, refusing his protests. He’d been so nice, Avery felt bad. What had he done that was so great to deserve such kindness? Because it seemed like his whole life had only been a lie.

Trained by the academy since he was a kid, through summer camps, special classes, coaches, everything, he’d grown up to become a powerful hero, with a lot of potential, or so everyone said. But it never really felt right. Then he moved on to the actual academy, taking as many classes as he could, always doing his best. It was a good education, and he needed as much of it as possible if he wanted to be a good hero, who did the right thing.

His dedication and drive started to become annoying traits of his, rather than what teachers and coaches praised. Hewanted to know too much, he realized now. It wasn’t like he ever suspected there was something so bad hiding behind.

And now, they had destroyed everything in just one night. Everyone thought he was an insane person who just wanted to believe in the conspiracy, and bring people down. The public opinion had swayed very easily, a couple false articles being enough to change people’s mind.

He couldn’t even be angry at them, he’d fallen for it too, when he’d seen other heroes switch sides and read about their reasons in the pres. he never questioned it. The press had always been fairly nice to him, he didn’t have many enemies in the journalists.

It was probably because the administration controlled them too.

He wiped his tears and rinsed his hair one last time, before turning off the water.

He had to at least pretend it was fine. Owen was nice enough to let him stay around even if he had no reason to, and he couldn’t be any kind of a burden. He was glad Panda was around, he was great at comfort. Even if he did bite his fingers a couple times. He wouldn’t tell that to Owen, it would make him right.

He got dressed and messed with his hair for a while, before giving up. It was a mess like it always was no point in trying now. Sometimes he really hated whoever gave him genes for such fluffy hair. It was impossible to handle. One of his friend had theorized it was because he was of east asian descent, and that he had to try different ways of taking care of it to find what was the best. But he hadn’t, because it felt too much like something his actual parent should have taught him, not something to look up online. and that made him really sad, for some reason.

“Whatever, let’s find Panda and get a hug,” he whispered to himself.

He had hoped the cat would be on the couch, here he’d last seen him, licking his butt after having his breakfast, but he wasn’t there anymore.

Owen was sitting at the kitchen island, writing furiously on his laptop, and barely sparred him a glance.

For some reason, Avery suddenly felt really heavy, an intense sadness filling him, and he wondered when this would end. It was probably just a bad time, things would get better after a while, but he could sense that something else was about to fall on him and destroy everything again, and he didn’t look forward to that.

Why does it never stop?

“Hey.”

Owen was standing in front of him, concern on his face, definitely awake despite his lack of sleep.

Avery didn’t say anything. He knew if he tried, he would start crying again, and he couldn’t have that. Not now. Not in front of him. It wasn’t -

Owen slowly wrapped his arms around him, giving him plenty of time to move or push him away. But he didn’t. It felt nice. He hugged him back, enjoying the warmth of his friend. He’d always been taller, something Avery hated when they had to fight a little too close, but right now it was really nice. He was whispering reassurances to him, telling him it would be alright, they’d find solutions and it wouldn’t always suck this much.

It felt really nice, and he hoped it would last forever. For once, his thoughts had stopped racing.

He had barely slept, and kept turning and tossing in his bed, wondering if he had fallen asleep so easily because he was so tired, or if it was because of the person next to him.

He already knew the answer, but didn’t want to think about it, much less go ask the other for a hug so he could sleep again.

God he really needed to talk to a new doctor about this. One who wouldn’t ask too many questions about what could possibly be stressing him out, or preventing him from going to bed at reasonable hours.

When a reasonable time came, he got up and made the biggest pot of coffee he could find. He thought he had a bigger pot, but couldn’t remember where it was, and didn’t want to make even more noise than he had. Avery had woken up anyway, so it wasn’t like it mattered. But he didn’t have the mental energy to dedicate to it all. So he just made his coffee, giving his guest some clothes and squashing his complaints. If he didn’t want him to stay around, he was very capable of kicking him out, regular person way or villain way. He’d like to keep his apartment clean and Panda calm though.

The first cup of coffee felt like drinking that water that was supposed to give eternal youth, the name of which he couldn’t remember or bother to look up. The second one was more for pleasure than out of necessity.

He’d gotten a text from his boss, saying the shop had been damaged in a fight last night, and he didn’t need to come in for work for at least two weeks. The administration would cover the wages of the employees as well as the cost of repairs.

A blessing truly, he just had to fill in a form with his information, as well as a formal declaration that he wasn’t present when the incident happened.

Easy peasy.

But then Avery walked out of the bathroom, eyes still red from crying, and looking really sad. He wasn’t sure what to do, so he didn’t mention it, but from the way his face fell, it was clearly not the right thing to do.

He looked like the weight of the world was on his shoulder. And maybe it was a little bit after all. His whole world had come crashing down just two days ago.

“Hey.”

He tried to keep his voice soft, and not cold as it apparently always was. According to his friends at least.

Avery looked like he needed a hug, so without overthinking it, Owen did just that. He gave him time to push back of course, he didn’t have to accept, but he did. He even clung to him like he was the last person on earth, relaxing visibly, and even smiling a little against his neck.

Oh this was bad, really bad. Owen would never be able to squash his feelings now, they’d refuse to go away, reminding him of this moment.

They stayed like this for a long time, Owen doing his best to make Avery feel better, giving him empty promises of making things better and finding solutions. It seemed to work, because he stopped breathing so fast and being so tense.

It was going well until Panda decided he wanted some of that attention for himself too, and literally jumped from the counter onto Avery’s shoulder, making him gasp in surprise.

“Is that…?”

“Yep. That’s Panda, jealous that he’s no longer the center of attention, despite being the king of this house. Come on Panda, that’s just rude now. Do you even have an ounce of manners in that fluffy body of yours?”

The cat meowed, making Avery laugh.

“I don’t think Panda has a lot of respect for you.”

He shifted a little, but didn’t seem ready to let go yet, so Owen just rubbed little circles on his back, considering his answer carefully.

“Panda don’t take it personally okay? You’re right, he has no manners. Honestly he’s super friendly, but also really bratty ? I don’t know where he got that. I tried to educate him but…��

“Aw, be nice to him. He’s sweet. He let me pet him so much! I really like him. I always wanted to have a pet but couldn’t. It’s so nice.”

He finally let go, quickly wiping his eyes, and then grabbing Panda from his shoulder, and carrying him like a baby instead.

“I’m going to be off of work for at least two weeks, so I will be around to see how much of a betrayal Panda is, and just how much cuddling he can accept from other people.”

“He doesn’t accept it from you?”

“Oh he does, but I think he found a new favorite person.”

Avery blushed, and OWen couldn’t help but notice just how cute that was.

Before they got the chance to say anything else, the landline started ringing.

The only person who called on this line was his mom. So she was done with ignoring him.

“Ah, the traitor finally stops ignoring me!”

“The traitor?”

He grabbed the phone, ready to give his mom a piece of his mind.

“Hi baby! Am I bothering you? I saw the place where you work got blown up, it was night and no hospital texted me, so I guess you’re doing fine.”

“Hi mom, or should I call you traitor?”

“Oh Owen that’s a bit strong, makes me reconsider my offer too, such an ungrateful son!”

Her voice contained no heat, only amusement. Clearly she didn’t care what he thought. He only raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to elaborate.

“You’re going to be off work right? I’m going to your uncle’s house, if you want to come with me and take some holidays!”

Oh. So that was what it was about.

“Can I bring someone?”

On the other end of the line, he heard his mother choke on her drink, cough it out for a solid minute before talking again. It made him smile. He was full of surprises.

“Yes, of course. do I know that person?”

“Yeah, it’s what I’ve been trying to call you about for two days now.”

“Oh, that nice boy I met once. Really sweet and polite, Adam I think? The press isn't kind to him lately.”

“His name is Avery now. I’ll take the ferry as usual. Get ready for Panda, he misses you.”

“Wonderful, I look forward to seeing you boys. Oh this promises to be interesting, you have to give me details alright? I know I’m your mom, but I wanna know.”

“Nope, definitely not. Bye mom, see you tomorrow, love you.”

She chuckled but said her goodbyes.

Why didn’t I tell her it’s not like that. Oh god she probably thinks we’re dating. Oh no she’s going to make this so awkward. I’m such an idiot.

He stopped his internal panic when he noticed Avery looking at him curiously.

“Wanna spend a week at a beach house?”

I will write them more, just maybe not tomorow (I’ve been procrastinating my homework a whole lot)

#writing #my writing #writing practice #superpowers #hero turned villain

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metanoiyed-archive · 4 years

Note

Hi there!! May I have one of your free readings? I am a Sagittarius rising, Gemini sun, Capricorn Moon and my initials are EB. My question is, "What can I do to regain control of my dreams?" (Sleeping dreams, not aspiration dreams) I would love to tip you if you have a Ko-fi account or something similar! Thank you!!!

[ID: a picture of my notebook.

At the top in pen I have written “Tarot Reading 5/22/2020”. The line under it reads “For: E.B.” Directly underneath it reads, “Question: “What can I do to gain control of my dreams?”

After some spaces, written in pen is “The Cards:”

Highlighted in yellow is “Ten of Pentacles”, followed by “five of pentacles”, and “three of pentacles” in pen. The next line under reads “Three Card Spread” and the line after that is “what is the current state of affairs?”

Underneath “what is the current state of affairs” lay the “ten of pentacles” tarot card from Fairy Lights Tarot by Lucia Mattioli. The card depicts a house on a cliff-side, reachable only by a long, tedious path, underneath a rainbow.

On the right next to the card andhighlighted in yellow, is “ten of pentacles”. Under the highlighted text is as follows:

In this card, we see a house reachable only be a path that’s far away, “over the rainbow”, as you can see in the sky of the image. To gain control of your dreams and reach the house over the rainbow (or under it), you must consider your current situation.

End ID/.]

Card One: What is the Current State of Affairs?

Now, for your current situation. Your current state of affairs is the ten of pentacles. This card is most often read for legacies, hard work, labor and sacrifice. Because I pulled this card, I encourage you to ask yourself what has lead you to where you are now: how have your dreams gotten so out of control? Did it happen all at once or slowly over time? Was it something you could’ve prevented? Regardless, before you can make it to wherever your path leads (in the case of this card, it would be to the ‘paradise’ at the end of the path on the cliff-side) you must answer these questions. What have you sacrificed to get to this point? Have you attained anything in return, whether it’s wealth or health, or do you continue to give? The ten of pentacle’s actual meaning in this deck is that you have nowhere happier to be except your home, your roof. Are you dreaming of other places, perhaps? Are you straying too far past your own roof?

[ID: a picture of my notebook.

on the left, it reads “what actions can you take, or are you taking, to address your situation?” Underneath is the “five of pentacles” tarot card from the Fairy Lights Tarot by Lucia Mattioli. In the card, soft water-color yellows bloom in the background. A group of siren-like creatures lounge while one tries to escape from the water over a rock, possibly injured.

On the right next to it, “five of pentacles” is highlighted in purple. The text under it reads as follows: In this card, we typically see need portrayed. The fairy lights tarot, however, describes something slightly different. Notice the escaping creature, the environment around it and how it applies to your situation as a whole: (more in post.)

End ID/.]

Card Two: What Actions Can You Take, Or Are You Taking, To Address Your Situation?

In “the five of pentacles”, need is portrayed differently. Instead of specifically financial need or debt, Lucia Mattioli’s brings a different meaning to the card: to help the less fortunate around you, open your eyes to the struggles of others. Gratefulness. These are all key themes in this card. Perhaps this is something you are already doing? Traditionally, it also means loss or some sort of setback. Perhaps you are already finding a way to move forward positively in this situation - as a typical rider-Waite card would be advising - and if you find yourself rather down about it all, perhaps going forth with the advice the fairy lights tarot has to offer is not a bad idea. Remember not to lose sight of gifts that the universe may give to you because of your difficulty with dreams as of late - a hardship does not mean that you’ve been abandoned!

[ID: a picture of my notebook.

on the left, it reads “what kind of outcome can you expect from taking these actions?” Underneath is the “three of pentacles” tarot card from Fairy Lights Tarot by Lucia Mattioli. This card is bright and full of oranges, reds and yellow water-colors, with a creature with a lion’s body and a man’s face, as well as a fae-looking creature with wings. There are steps leading up to the two creatures, standing apart from each other, seeming to be having a discussion or at least acknowledging each other’s presence.

On the right, it reads “3 of pentacles” and below it, the text reads as follows:

Notice the bright, warm colors used in this card and the wise, nature of the creature in it. This card says great things about your journey to conquering your dreams.

End ID./]

Okay! Three of pentacles. Typically associated with teamwork and collaboration, not much has changed in this card from the classic raider-waite. This card is such a great sign to end the reading. This cards meaning if I had to sum it up would be, “accepting help even if it kills you will get you to your goal.”

Card Three: What Kind of Outcome Can You Expect From Taking These Actions?

Now, that’s obviously not the real description, but it’s close enough. Accepting help from your ‘friends’ (which could mean acquaintances, or perhaps people you helped along the way, relating back to your second card, anything relating to your dreams) along the way on this journey (notice the steps and the slight path between them, and how your first card also had a long, tedious path before it ever reached the house, which is where people most often dream?) is what will ultimately help you complete it successfully, ie: conquer your dreams and reign them in.

Thank you so much for requesting a reading, it means so much! I honestly didn’t even think about tipping being an option... Honestly I encourage everyone who wants to tip to donate to a charity or a person/shop if they can, anything is good!

I’ll list a couple:

Glam Trash Zodiac

Navajo Nation Relief Fund

Oglala Lakota Nation Relief Fund

However, if you still want to tip, my brand-new kofi is veiledinlight. Leave a review on this post about your reading if you want, or, if you’d like a clarification card to be pulled from one of my oracle decks, let me know!

#tarot readings #beachmothbehemoth #long post #fairy lights tarot

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theoverflowinggrace · 4 years

Text

Christian Testimony: Saved by Grace

My Testimony

God has been asking me to share my story but only today, May 24, 2020 the Holy Spirit led me to write it now after watching a preaching entitled “Grace is…” of the lead Pastor of Transformation Church, Michael Todd. I kept this secret to myself for so many years. I’d been so afraid to be judged. It would always scare me whenever I would attempt that the people I know might get away from me. But today, I don’t just want to keep that love God has been showing me, I wanted to share it. There also might be people who are going through something and needs encouragement in their lives right now and I don’t want to miss the chance.

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I came from a very poor family. I had the worst father I’d thought. He was a gambler, a womanizer, a very irresponsible father to his four children. My father and my mother separated when I was five years old. At a very young age, I understood and felt very unhappy and deficient. My mother was the one who took the responsibilities for all of their children. She had a relationship with another man. She did everything she could to provide for our family. Growing up, all I wanted was to get our family back together. My family was all my life. They are my everything.

When I was in second year high school, my sister invited me to a Christian church she was attending to that time and there I felt Jesus but still didn’t understand what life really means. We stopped going to church as my sister and I had to move to Manila from Antipolo to get free education in public universities. From there, I lived with my father and with his girlfriend. Going to college for my sister and I was so difficult. There were days that we would not have allowance to go to school. There were days that we would not have food on our table. My sister and I even experienced to work as a saleslady in Divisoria mall thinking that we could save money for ourselves. I also remember that my sister and I even experienced selling coffee in a dangerous place in Custom where you needed to play hide and seek with the guards because they don’t allow vendors in there. We would offer coffee to those drivers who were driving their big trucks with big containers and when their queue would move you need to chase them for their payment. It was very dangerous.

My friends in college were just normal people who also need free education from the government to go to college. One day, when my friends and I were strolling in the mall. There was this old man who suddenly approached me. At first, I thought he was a gay (I think it was just his style to cover up his real intention) who would want me to be one of his talents. He showed me his phone and asked if he could get my number. My initial reaction was I got scared. I knew that he liked me. I didn’t give my number and left him. Shortly, when we were walking away from him, we didn’t know that he was following us. He was persistent to pursue me that day so while walking he was talking and introducing himself to us. He even showed his ID’s to us. He said that he is a lawyer, a professor, studied in Ateneo and even in UP and just wanted to eat with us. My friends and I were just crazy and said yes (we were trying to convince ourselves that it is just a treat and we could eat in a most expensive restaurant in that area because anyway we were still inside the vicinity of the mall so we don’t need to be scared of) Fast forward, when we were finished ordering and eating all the food we wanted from the restaurant, he asked my number again and I gave a fake one. He tried to call it but it didn’t ring. (Of course I just invented it) and to make the long story short, I ended up giving my number. After that time, I would receive sweet messages from him but I just ignored him until he stopped.

Fast forward, I was in my second semester in my 3rd year of college when my family received news that left us all devastated. My sister had stage 4 colon cancer and the doctor even told that she only had two months to live. We were hopeless that time. We are not rich. Where can we get the money to provide for her chemotherapies? Why did God let this happen to my sister? How could we still have the second chance for my family to get back together if my sister would die? Those were some of the questions I had in my mind.

Fast forward, one normal day after school, when I just finished my field study and decided to eat in a fast food restaurant, I once encountered again this old man who I’ve met few months ago. He called my number after we’ve seen each other again but again, I just ignored him.

Our family has history of cancer. Three of my very close relatives died because of it. My sister who just had two chemo sessions decided to stop and told his husband to just save the money for her daughter’s future instead of wasting the money if she would still die in the end. When I knew about it, I was in great pain but this old man came across my mind. I thought he could help me with the big amount of money my sister needed for the remaining Chemo sessions. I became so desperate. But I was wrong; he told me so many lies. He was a big liar. I never thought of getting married or having kids before graduating to college. I was so careful (I thought I was) He told me that he could not make a woman pregnant because his doctor said so because of all the medications and everything he had when he was having multiple surgeries in his body (Before I met him I didn’t know that he had undergone multiple surgeries in his face hoping that he could still look young again; Indeed, he is a crazy man) He made me believed that everything he said were all true. I didn’t even know that he’s a married man. (He is really crazy) Things have fallen apart when I got pregnant. I couldn’t accept it. I hated it. I despised it so I destroyed it. I aborted it.

Fast forward, I graduated to college, got a decent job, passed the board exam for teachers, had a serious relationship, and my sister died after battling for three months with her disease.

Life became lifeless, pointless, and meaningless. It was so dark and I’d gone through depression. Every day, I wish I had died instead. I told myself that I would never be happy again. I told myself that I can’t be happy again. I don’t deserve and I won’t and I should not. I must not.

I stopped socializing. I stopped doing the things that could make me happy. I was punishing myself but never had I attempted to commit suicide because I knew that it would only help me to get a VIP ticket in my residence to hell.

I carried this guilt for more than six years until I met my Christ again. He showed me his mercy, poured me with his grace and wrapped me with His great love. I was a great sinner but His love is greater. It was when I didn’t know what to do anymore. Every day was unbearable. It was when I came across these Christian preaching videos from CCF. God spoke to me in so many ways. I felt in love with Him. And finally I have forgiven myself. At this moment, I could say that I am not just happy but I am joyful. It says on Ephesians 2:8 “For by Grace you have been saved through Faith and He is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God.”

I used to always question God. I was mad to Him. I kept asking him why he allowed me to get involved with this kind of man. There were a lot of women in that mall that he could approach instead of me? Why did we still have our next encounter after our first? Why did God allow me to be used by this man? Why my sister had to suffer from cancer? And why can’t my family just be happy? And God answered me in John 9:2 when His disciples asked him “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents that he was born blind? And Jesus answered “Neither this man nor his parents sinned. But this happened so that the works of God might be displayed in him”. I believed that God allowed all of these things to happen without any reasons. I believed that there’s no accident with God. All things happened for His glory. I still may not be the person God wanted me to be but I am grateful to Him that I am not the same person I used to be. I still fall short of glory every day but His grace is amazing. It is sufficient. People do not deserve this grace but God has given it to us. He has already paid in full when He died on the cross for us. We don’t need to earn it or work for it but we just only need to enjoy it. God has finished his work. If anyone of you who’s been struggling or condemning yourself from the sins you have committed, God is telling you right at this moment that He has already forgiven you so forgive yourself now. God would allow even the most painful thing that could ever happen to your life so you would be blessed by Him and use you for His glory. If anyone of you who are probably mad, keep on questioning God or going through some difficulties in life. Keep in your mind that you are never alone in your battle. You may not understand now but in the future, you will understand that God is really working. He is alive. You just have to give it all out to God and surely, he will direct you to what he has in stored for you.

All of my earthly desires, I surrendered all to Him. To have plenty or nothing, His grace is sufficient. He had already done great things 2000 years ago. I will never cease worshiping and praising him for the rest of my life.

Recently, I just ended my four-year relationship. It took me two years to finally surrender him to Jesus. It didn’t honor God. It wasn’t a Christ-centered relationship. To let go of him was really painful. I thought he was the one I would be marrying. I have planned it already but I know God has better plans. It was excruciating. But God has helped me go through with this hardship. I believe that with God everything is possible. It says in Philippians 4:13 “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.”

Now, I am a living testimony of how unconditional, incomparable and indescribable His love for us. I am great sinner, saved by His grace through faith and now a committed follower of Jesus Christ. All praises, glory and honor to God. God bless you all!

#christian testimony #savedbygrace

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howsit-going-toend · 5 years

Text

Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down) Pt. 7

A Kwon Jiyong x Reader AU series featuring Kim Jiwon and Choi Seunghyun

Genre: Crime/Mafia/ANGST

Word count: 4,700+

Summary: You joined the police force years ago to help clean up the streets of Seoul and rid the city of organized crime. You’ve seen some shit. You’re surely prepared for anything…but how are you supposed to feel when the big bad crime boss you’ve been after turns out to be a familiar (to say the least) face?

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

(A/N: WOW it’s been a while. Buckle up because this one’s a doozie. Doosie?...Duzey? Anyway, this part finally breaks down the past and lays it all out there. I’m truly happy with this and I hope you all understand why it took so long to finally post/write. As always, enjoy!)

Eleven Years Ago

“And his laugh! Oh my god, don’t get me started about that damn laugh.” You groaned, taking a sip of wine before imitating a laugh that sounded a little too much like Tommy Wiseau.

Jiyong covered his mouth with the back of his hand, chuckling uncontrollably at the impression of your now-ex boyfriend.

“See, THAT’s genuine laughter! You know why? Because I’m hilarious god damnit.” You took another frustrated sip.

“Y/N, I know you’re kind of worked up, but maybe slow it down there.” Jiyong suggested between his giggles.

It was your nineteenth birthday; the day you were finally of legal drinking age and the same day that you decided to break up with your most recent boyfriend. The two of you dated for just a little over three months. To you, it was three months that you hardly paid attention to, focusing more on yourself and finishing your first year of university and feeling as though texting him back was more of an obligation than a joy. You decided to break things off before getting too serious. But evidently, to him, the last three months were nothing short of incredible.

You assumed your words would be met with immediate acceptance; the end that was inevitable from the beginning. But no. He was devastated. And after he drove away, and you immediately felt like garbage, you took a quick trip to pick up a bottle of wine and call your best friend over.

It was the first time Jiyong had seen your apartment, since the two of you got accepted to different universities. Here he was after gladly tossing aside his own deadlines and driving the two and a half hours it took to reach you. His parents always said “Jiyong would cross oceans for Y/N at any hour of the day or night,” and they knew you would do the same in a heartbeat.

You’d known each other since you were children, so it didn’t surprise you when Jiyong made a comment on you drinking that reverted back to more of an older brother mentality.

“Hey, uh, how about maybe you don’t tell me what to do?” You replied with your sassiest expression.

“My bad, I forgot who I was talking to.” He smiled, taking a sip from his own glass. “So why’d you do it today anyway?”

You groaned. “Because he was planning to take me to some wine and food festival tomorrow that was probably going to be super expensive. And knowing how long I’ve been debating on breaking up with him, I knew it had to be today. But I didn’t expect him to bring me gifts too! I tried to emphasize to him so many times that I don’t like presents and yet he brought some up tonight.”

Jiyong smirked. “Wow he wanted to buy you gifts. He sounds awful. Good riddance!”

“Ji, I swear t-.”

“I’m kidding! You shouldn’t be expected to reciprocate feelings just because the guy buys you things. What did he try to give you?”

You winced thinking back to just a few hours prior to this. “A pair of slippers, some fancy candles, and this foot scrub because ‘you always said your feet hurt.’ But he gave it all to me after I broke up with him so of course, he said that to me with his head down like I just kicked a puppy. Also just putting it out there that I’ve literally never said that to him about my feet.”

You paused to let out a frustrated exhale and drink a little more. “But the worst was honestly the cupcake. I was pacing in my room before he got here, trying not to lose my nerve because I felt so bad already. Then he emerges from his car and walks towards my door with a stupid cupcake. One with a single lit candle that he was holding his hand up around to keep the air from blowing it out. When he got to me, I said ‘oh no, you didn’t have to do that.’ And he laughed and said ‘yes!’ Then I basically leaned over, blew the candle out and said ‘No really, you shouldn’t have done that. Listen, I’ve been thinking about this for a while.”

“Y/N!” Jiyong laughed out loud, failing to cover it up with his hand once again in attempts not to ridicule this poor boy. “That’s borderline cruel. You said it before he could even get inside?”

“I had to! It’s my birthday and I needed to.” You stated and took a long last sip of your glass.

“No, I know. I know. But you know what I’m going to say.” He smirked.

You stuck your index finger out at him. “Don’t. Don’t say it.” You got up to get a refill and shouted once you reached the kitchen. “I mean it!”

“Ok… how about I call you heartbreaker instead?” He squeezed his eyes shut, silencing a chuckle, knowing the look you were about to give him once you returned to the couch.

You didn’t disappoint. You blew around the corner, almost spilling your new glass just to stare him down. “Oh you want to throw that word around? If anyone deserves that nickname it’s you and you know it!”

“Wow, didn’t even bother to ask if I needed a refill.” He pouted.

“Yeah, well too bad. Don’t avoid that title!”

He chuckled, knowing he hadn’t lost his touch with successfully pushing all the right buttons. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He sprang up from the couch to reach the wine.

“Of course you don’t… What about that girl you were telling me about a while back? You haven’t said a word about her since you’ve been here. You already broke up with her, didn’t you! Let’s point the right fingers here.”

“All right, yeah, I did.” He uttered from the kitchen over the sound of his glass filling.

“Ha!”

“On her birthday.”

You nearly choked on your own drink. “Ji, what the hell!”

“Kidding! Stop taking everything I say so seriously. Who are you?” He returned to the couch with a plop, gracefully avoiding spilling anything. “It was Valentine’s Day.”

You narrowed your eyes. “I hate you sometimes.”

You bantered back and forth for a couple more hours, polishing off the bottle of wine before making a quick on-foot journey to get another. It finally being your nineteenth birthday created a nice change to you and Jiyong’s usual strategy involving you entering a store separately; you purchasing snacks while he dilly dallies around the alcohol aisle, waiting for you to leave. Tonight, the two of you could blissfully waltz up and down the place without a worry.

You were all too eager to show your ID to the cashier when it was time to pay. “Bam!” You stated before the man could even finish asking you for it, making Jiyong smack his forehead with the palm of his hand.

“Do you think he knows?” You whispered as he held the door open for you, referencing your slight drunkenness in the least stealthy way possible.

“Well, I’m sure he does now.” He laughed.

The two of you walked back to your apartment, giddy from the wine you’d already consumed meanwhile anticipating the next bottle and arsenal of snacks that you were about to. You were blissfully drunk, with a full stomach, before you knew it. All along, you both babbled on with random life updates littered among childhood memories. There was no birthday celebration that could compare to this.

“Oh hey, you brought up the record player!” Jiyong exclaimed, having made his way to the corner of your living room; where you stored all the hand-me-down vinyls you’d both grown up listening to.

“Nope that’s a new one actually. My aunt bought it for me before I moved out. She actually said ‘you can’t have mine but this one looks like it, ok?’”

You both laughed. “I actually saw her last weekend when I visited my parents.” Jiyong said as he ran his index finger along the edges of every vinyl.

“Awh, you did? God she was probably so happy to see you. When I visit, I just get scolded for not calling enough.” You rolled your eyes in fake annoyance.

“Listen, it’s the same thing when I see my parents. If you visit them, they’re both so cheery, especially my mom.” Jiyong laughed.

You beamed. “I love your mom! Does she ask about me?”

“Literally every time I’m home. She and Dami always ask when we’re getting married.”

“My aunt does the same thing!” You started laughing in hysteric unison. Your families always wanted you to end up together and they’d brought it up for years; always giving the two of you something to laugh about.

Jiyong shook his head and smiled as he pulled out a record, having finally decided to put some music on. “All right. We’ve got to play this throwback.”

“You know: Technically they’re all throwbacks. Neither of us were alive when any of thes-.” You stopped and laughed drunkenly at the look he turned to give you for the stupid remark.

“Oh wait wait!” You announced when a certain record got your attention. “I think we should put this one on and reliv-.”

“Nooo no!” He brushed your hand away from reaching for The Temptations’ “My Girl.”

“Oh come on, Ji. I’m the only one here. Please! Just do the dance, you don’t have to sing!” You begged.

He rolled his eyes and stepped aside. “Fine. You better not record this though.” He held out his pinky to you with narrowed eyes; what might as well be a binding contract with how you both treasured it in the past. You hooked your pinky around his and used your other hand to place your phone down. “Promise.”

He took to a position that offered the most open space while you dropped the needle on the outside of the record. As the song began, you crossed your arms and stared at him with a huge smile as he reluctantly began to step back and forth.

I’ve got sunshine, on a cloudy day

When it’s cold outside, I’ve got the month of May…

It was a performance perfectly reenacted from when you were kids; you were five and he was hardly seven. It was one of his mom’s most cherished home movies; little Jiyong performing his heart out at a family party, winning the hearts of all those around as he danced this adorable doo wop routine while gesturing to you with a bright smile.

Tonight was only a little different; that bright smile being replaced with one of red cheeked embarrassment as he extended an arm to you on each “My girl!” line. You snapped your fingers along, amused at how he remembered just about every step. When the song came to an end, you cheered and clapped proudly.

“All right, all right. We’re done with that!” He exclaimed, diving back into the rows of vinyl.

You both agreed to assemble a playlist; taking turns stacking your favorite singles out beside the turntable, one on top of the other, ready to be played in that order. Each one had a different memory attached to it that would light both of your faces with nostalgia within their first few seconds.

“Ah, ‘Ain’t No Mountain High Enough!’” You exclaimed as Jiyong’s next choice began to play. “Your mom used to play this when she took us to school in the morning, right?”

His smile expanded as he started to lipsync along.

Listen baby,

Ain’t no mountain high, ain’t no valley low

Ain’t no river wide enough, baby

You started to snap your fingers back and forth before you joined in on your part.

If you need me, call me

No matter where you are, no matter how far

Jiyong extended an arm out to you dramatically: Don’t worry baby

You grabbed his hand and spun into his arms just in time for the chorus. Giggles escaped your chest, preventing either of you from continuing to sing along. This closeness was nothing out of the ordinary for you two. You’d danced together like that for as long as you can remember. Your fingers intertwined with smiles so wide they’d hurt if you weren’t a little intoxicated; it was harmless.

When the song came to an end and your next choice was readied, you naturally returned to each other’s arms. This time was a slow song, but neither of you missed a beat.

Put your head on my shoulder

You smiled at each other once more before obeying the opening lyric. You lowered your head to rest comfortably above his collarbone while the two of you swayed back and forth. “God, what a song.” You grinned.

“I know. This song’s helped me put the moves on someone at least three different times.”

You lightly smacked his chest, making him laugh. “Shut up.” You sighed back into him and closed your eyes. “I swear though, wine and slow dancing go together too well. And this is the best song for it.”

“Really? Better than Elvis? I don’t think you really believe that.” He argued. You lifted your head to see him holding his index finger up towards you, silently telling you to wait a second. He scurried back to the collection. He found what he was looking for in seconds, grinning widely at you over his shoulder before interrupting Paul Anka.

You smiled sadly at him as the gentle acoustic guitar came in and he pulled you closer once again. “Aw, Ji you’re gonna make me cry.”

Love me tender, love me sweet

Never let me go

It was your favorite record. And he knew this better than anyone. You’d fallen in love with it ever since your aunt showed you your parents’ wedding reception video. Their first dance as one being to none other than Elvis Presley.

Love me tender, love me true

All my dreams fulfilled

You removed your hands from Jiyong’s and instead wrapped your arms around his neck. He moved his own arms to hold you just barely above the waist, bringing you even closer together. You nestled your head into his shoulder once again, allowing the song to run away with your emotions. He hummed along to each line, creating a soothing vibration against your cheek

“Are you crying yet?” He whispered.

“No.” You whispered back. “I’m smiling.”

He chuckled softly. “Me too.”

Love me tender, love me dear

Tell me you are mine

As your favorite lyric soon began to close out the song, you lifted your head to look at him. Maybe it was the wine, or the late hour, or just the sheer romance of Elvis’ voice, but you really looked at him.

It felt like the first time you had ever seen just how dark his hair was. Or how many different shades of brown made up his eyes, and how well his brows complimented them. Stubble lightly dusted across his cupid’s bow and cupped around his chin, making you wonder if you’d ever actually seen him with facial hair before. His full lips made you smile wider, remembering the awkward dinner moment when you’d met his first girlfriend, and she’d said Jiyong and you have the same lips. His were pulled perfectly from either end, making the smile you’ve known the best all these years.

You realized he was analyzing your features as well, making you giggle in embarrassment.

“What are we doing?” You whispered.

Without missing a beat, keeping perfectly in line with the last few guitar chords, Jiyong and you both made a move that neither of you had ever expected to make. Somehow in that millisecond of silence, your minds came to the same conclusion. Quickly, but softly, your lips met.

The only remaining sound in the room was the low muffle of the turntable, serving to amplify just how exhilarating of a moment this was. You’d never pictured yourself kissing Jiyong before, and your present self couldn’t possibly imagine why.

His lips moved with yours in perfect synchronicity, gentle and warm but also eager to take lead and set a perfect pace, like the dance you’d just finished. Beads of sweat began to form at your hairline as you felt one of his hands cup your cheek, before tracing just below your ear and firmly hold the back of your neck.

You were swooning, entirely enthralled in him. Whatever this feeling was, it was completely alien to you. You didn’t even care that it was Jiyong. You were honestly impressed. As your best friend, and the person who knows you the best in this world, just how the fuck did he know you’ve always wanted to be kissed this way? All this made you smile into the kiss. You felt him smile back before reforming his lips to yours, taking shapes that felt all too natural.

To both of your dismay, it didn’t last forever. You returned to Earth after one or two last pecks, ending it with your foreheads pressed together. You lifted your gazes to meet one another, giving an identical look of wonder.

As you stared at him, he lowered his lips to yours once more. This time was just a simple, soft peck. You both kept your eyes open; joined in awe that this moment was real.

And that’s how it happened. There wasn’t anything remotely awkward about it. The following morning, when the booze had completely worn off and all of your senses restored, the two of you simply laughed, before holding each other tight. There was never any talk of “so, now what?” or “what does this make us?” You both just knew.

And it was the easiest thing that your hearts had ever accepted.

It was your little secret for a few months; keeping the official beginning just between the two of you to ensure it really was what you both wanted. After everything was settled, you had your fun slowly sharing the news with your family and friends. Jiyong would playfully argue that you might have had a little too much fun with it. But their looks of surprise and heart bursting excitement would stick with you forever.

You’d take turns joking about how stupid you were to never realize it sooner: being together just made sense. Your friends and family always knew. (Your exes most definitely always knew.) As cliché as it seemed, you both had just been looking for love everywhere but right in front of you.

You both soon finished out your undergraduate degrees. You were this close to finishing the same semester as him, but in true Jiyong fashion: he beat you to it and finished early. Following your graduations you bought a puppy (a gift from you to him; he immediately named him Gaho) and moved in to an apartment together; something that surprisingly took very little convincing from Jiyong’s parents. (He’d claim there wouldn’t have been a damn chance if it was anyone but you) You were allowed to live in sin so long as you both moved back to Seoul and entered solid internships.

All along you treated each other better than any partner either of you had ever had; demonstrating incredible patience as you learned and grew together in ways you’d never imagined. Family members would boast about the two of you proudly, while close friends would fight the urge to scowl jealously. It was borderline sickening just how natural and blissful everything truly was. They made up some of the best four years of your life.

And never, in your wildest nightmares, did you ever think they would end.

“I’m home!” You announced.

You hummed to yourself as you slipped off your shoes and hung up your coat. The law firm had finally granted you an easy Friday workload, and you had all intentions of using the next couple of days to celebrate.

“Ji, are you here?” You spoke up as you made your way to the kitchen so that, if there, he could hear you from the bedroom. You hadn’t heard from him all day, but that was nothing out of the ordinary; lately his own internship had been especially demanding of his time. He was probably still at the office. You sighed sympathetically and decided some soup would be a nice surprise for him.

“Gaho!” You called, assuming the wrinkly monster was sound asleep in the other room. You reached for the notepad and pen attached to the fridge and began thinking of just how much you would need to pick up before Jiyong got home.

You tapped the pen on the notepad as you looked around the kitchen. You opened cupboard after cupboard, noticing just how much needed to be replenished. “Aish, did he make stew for the whole building today?” You rolled your eyes before writing down each missing ingredient.

“Gaho! Come here!” You repeated, knowing he usually slept as heavily as Jiyong. Shaking his food usually does the trick. You thought to yourself with a smile.

But as you walked over to its usual location you stopped. “Oh come on, we can’t be out of his food too. I swear we just bought some.” You put your hands on your hips out of frustration. “Awh, Gaho, I’m sorry. I hope you have at least something left in your bowl.” You muttered to yourself as you turned the corner out of the kitchen to check.

“Ok, this is weird.” Your brows furrowed. His bowls were gone. You checked the sink and saw no sign of them. Your pulse quickened as you speed walked to the bedroom.

“Gaho?” You called, hoping to see a pile of wrinkles on his bed or hear the sound of his little nails tapping on the hardwood floor. But as you stood in the doorway, his bed was nowhere in sight.

Your chest began to hurt as tears budded beneath your eyes. Gaho had spent weekends at Jiyong’s parents’ house before and even with your aunt. But you knew this weekend was never discussed to be one of them. And even if it was, they had bowls and a bed for him there. Something must have happened. You frantically reached for your phone and dialed Jiyong.

No answer.

“Ji. Ji, please call me. I don’t know where Gaho is. Please tell me you know.” Your voice shook as you left the message. There wasn’t a single sign of a break-in either. Or at least none that you were aware of.

You started pacing in the living room, thinking of all the possible scenarios. Whoever took him must have taken all that food too. You wouldn’t expect burglars to steal vegetables and bean paste, and leave behind the flatscreen, but it was the only explanation. You sped to the bedroom closet, fearing for your and Jiyong’s safes.

As you illuminated the walk-in space, the sight before you brought you to your knees. Everything on your side remained unruffled and unbothered. Nothing was even close to being out of place. Even your safe and few pieces of jewelry. But on Jiyong’s side, every last item was gone.

Every suit, every pair of pants and shoes, and even every fucking hanger was missing. As you gazed at the storage space above his side, and saw no sign of his luggage either, you collapsed.

“What the fuck.” You cried out, shaking and sobbing from uncertainty. You reached a trembling hand for your phone and tried calling him once again.

No answer.

You threw it to the side and somehow managed to pull yourself to your feet. You walked slowly to the bathroom, silently repeating “No, no, no…” to yourself. You closed your eyes as you turned the light on, nowhere near ready for what was there.

Every product, every personal hygiene tool, even his toothbrush, everything that was his: gone. And once again, whatever was yours, remained untouched. You gasped out loud and covered your mouth as sobs pulled themselves out of you. This had to be some kind of sick joke. It just had to be.

As you turned back to face the bedroom you saw through cloudy eyes the very last thing that you didn’t want to see. The item that debunked the miniscule shred of hope you were clinging to; that someone just had to have broken in so cleanly and so precisely, cleaning out everything that belonged to Jiyong, including Gaho and all of his belongings as well. You could have hung onto that ridiculous scenario for just a little while longer if you didn’t see it. There on the bed laying perfectly, and all too intentionally, was a folded piece of paper.

This time, when your body crumbled to the floor, it stayed there for nearly half an hour. You couldn’t stop crying. And for the life of you, you couldn’t move a muscle. When you finally found the strength to, you crawled to your phone. Before illuminating the screen, you begged the universe to grant you at least one text message from him.

Nothing.

You spent the next couple of hours there on the floor, endlessly sobbing and making phone call after phone call; each one feeling more useless than the last.

When you finally got a hold of yourself, you instead called a friend that lived nearby and begged her to come over. You spent that night, and the following week, at her place. It took that long for you to even walk back into that apartment. And it took even longer for you to finally read that letter.

“I love you too much to allow you to be put through what I’m going to put you through. I’m so fucking sorry. Take care of yourself and please: be the person you want to be. -Jiyong”

You ripped it into shreds on the spot. That was it. That was the only glimpse of an explanation that he ever granted you. Just like that, he left.

And you were never the same.

His disappearance came just as much of a shock to everyone else. No one could make sense of it. Not his parents, or even his best friends. They were all furious with him and could hardly speak about it. No one could give you answers.

And that’s all you tried to obtain for the next year: just some fucking answers. You were desperate and angry, lonely and above all you were ungodly depressed. When you couldn’t find him yourself you waited. You waited for so long. You lived each day as if it would be the one that he’d come back through the front door and back into your life.

But it never came.

You became self-destructive, going through every stage of grief at least three separate times. All along you begged the universe to show you even just one reason. Anything that could have shown what the fuck you did that was so wrong. Just come back and tell me why. You mumbled this phrase to yourself a million times, and when family and friends grew worried you mumbled it to psychiatrists a million times more.

It was some of the worst and most confusing pain you’d ever experienced. You endured it for nearly two years, until one cathartic appointment allowed you to finally accept it. You were done waiting. You couldn’t bring yourself to forgive him. But you had to get your life back.

You met Jiwon the following week. It was the very same week that you decided to change your focus back to your childhood dreams. You didn’t want to be a lawyer. (Though you ended up marrying one) You wanted to be a badass detective.

You now thought deeply about everything that had changed in just seven years.

You stared at Jiyong through the one way mirror completely stone faced, trying your hardest not to laugh at the fucked up irony. Even though you didn’t know it until that night in the warehouse, when he’d reignited that deep emotional pain with a matching physical pain at the hand of his crony you realized: you’d never truly stopped looking for him.

And now, seeing him sitting there before you, wanting your superior’s attention and wishing to make a deal with your boss…your rage was unfathomable.

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numewhoyou37 · 3 years

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Just a lil story from the other night...

Highlights:

- if your f#$k buddy doesnt give you cuddles, gifts or food/snacks, then they aint right for you boo

- be yourself and trust your instincts

So, before coronavirus struck the world i had been dating this dude for 3 years and he had been living with me for 1 of those years. He had promised me children and marriage and many other things then broke up with me which i am admittedly bitter about because the reasoning i was given was apparently a lie and i was in a relationship with ONE version of this manipulative user of a person who didnt actually love me buuut thats not the story im here to tell, at least not today and publicly to anyone who wants to read about it.

Im here to talk about this 99% perfect HUNK of a man i met before i dated the previously mentioned dude. We were good friends and we hung out, talked and had steamy sex a few times before we cut ties and i was in a relationship with previously mentioned fake liar dude. This hunky man is confident, determined and downright sexy! Hes caring funny and i feel relaxed a few minutes in talking to him which is a big deal for someone w my level anxiety and bull. He sent me a friend request and that sparked our flame again. We started talking again and it was aaaalmost as if we didnt stop talking before. I mentioned the breakup and the conversation took a slight turn to fun, flirty, sexy activities we wanted to do and pictures were exchanged. Video chats and phone calls were had and LET. ME. TELL. YOU. This hunk of a man had given me a waffle one morning in the past when i woke up in his home. That he owns. A waffle! I learned from him.

I learned that anyone youre messing with better give you food or gifts or cuddles or all of the friggin above! Sex is not a right. Intimacy is not a right. You are worthy of care and appreciation. Hunky man is a sexy ass gentleman!

But anyways he did that back then and here comes the new story from the other day. We had been talking and flirting and lusting for a minute now and covid is such a friggin blocking clown! We wanted to wait til the vaccine was out and distributed, but... the urge/craving grew too big so i ate dinner, took my car keys, ID and jacket into my room and i hopped out of the window.

Thats right. I went out the window to go meet up with this hunky gentleman. Frick covid, frick it real good. I drove to his home and stripped down. We had one round, he offered me his shower, and i accepted. Then another round, and another, and another... and he only got better with time which i didnt know was possible!!! It had been 3 years since i had last been intimate with him. My mind was blown. Now my kitty🐱 belongs to him and he is Daddy. Also, he shared music, memes and mothafuhckin cake with me before i headed back home.

HE GAVE ME CAKE AND GOOD OL DADDY D*&K

Story over. Im hooked. Get you a real partner who gives you everything you need and want. Moral of the story.

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theradicalintrovert · 7 years

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“Victim mentality”

If it’s essential for parents to want their kids to be better versions of themselves, is it not acceptable for kids to want the same from the parents? Or are the kids too “naive”, and “don’t know what they want”?

Well, for one thing, kids do know when they want more love.

I sat in silence having porridge for breakfast planning the workday in my head, when Mom uncharacteristically decides to give me company. “Why do you carry so many cards in your wallet?” she asks.

She knows just the right buttons to press at the right time. I say nothing. Like always. What she means is why do I carry around my IDs and my debit and credit cards in my wallet when I could carry only the essentials, while keeping some safely at home (in the event of me losing my wallet). She means well.

“Do not go through my wallet,” I reply, trying to keep calm while my slightly raised voice betrays me. Well the conversation ends with her getting defensive and saying “I don’t go through your wallet,” etc.

Lies.

You see, she has been doing that for years now. Going through my drawer, my books, and my wallet. And that has perhaps made me even more fiercely protective of my privacy. When I stuff sponge in the keyhole of my bedroom door, I come back from work, to see it removed. It has come to a point where I can no longer consider that space as my home. It’s not. It’s my parents’s home, not mine.

Perhaps I’ll paint an incomplete picture without giving you a backstory. I was brought up in the tea gardens of Assam and Kerala, while studying in Darjeeling and Ooty, respectively. My brother (5 years older), studied in the same boarding schools. It was a beautiful life, the ones you read in story books, with streams, outdoor fun, childish adventures, et al.

Soon though, we moved to the city (Calcutta), a noisy chaotic mess that people somehow found ‘convenient’. My grades dropped, my interactions with people changed, I suddenly had access to all the distractions that a city had to offer, but most crucially, I came back home to my parents every day after school. From ‘talking’ to them once every two weeks by an inland letter, now I had to talk to them every day.

As I struggled to adjust to this life (from the real jungle to this concrete one), my grades fell dramatically. Soon whatever talk was had with my parents, revolved around this. Screw friendships, screw play time, first get your grades straight then think about other things. Yeah I remember quite clearly what Dad said - there’s no point in making friends; eventually they’ll all go away and no one will be there for you when you need them. You need to be able to do things yourself.

Great advice. So I stopped allowing myself to get close to people emotionally. always kept a distance. Didn’t go out with them as much. Heck even if I wanted to, I couldn’t because I never got any money, because you know, my grades were not good enough. So here I was in a new city, in a new setting, new school, new acquaintances, distancing myself from friends, no money to hang out with them either, but somehow a new girlfriend.

Yes, in the 8th standard, I began seeing someone. Respite from the other crap. Also made me feel good about myself. I had something (someone) to look forward to everyday. She paid for everything when we went out. She called me on my brother’s phone at night. She was not perfect for me, but at the time, she was what I needed.

Predictably enough, my folks found out about it. And when they did, all my money (whatever I had managed to accrue) was taken, my landline privileges revoked, and thus began the age of monitoring. My mom would be around every time I got a call. If I had to step out, I would be given exact change for the bus/auto fare. I had to borrow money from my brother to go out with her, buy her gifts on birthdays, buy my friends gifts (”what’s the point when you won’t get gifts from them in return” - probably because I never got the money to treat them somewhere. Nor did I invite them home because I always thought they would inconvenience Mom, and she wouldn’t miss an opportunity to tell me how it was not ideal to have them over). So I convinced myself that celebrating birthdays was a bad idea, and that only superficial people (read: rich) do it. I mean who celebrates the day they became a burden to the earth. I found meaning in the philosophy that productivity should be celebrated, and not mere existence.

Sounds fair, I guess.

I think they got used to the fact that I would probably never achieve the academic heights I once reached. My other achievements went largely unnoticed. When I became the school’s football captain, the house captain, regional finalist in the American Spelling Bee (twice), the top scorer in the Green Olympiad (nation-wide), one of the highest performers in the ASSET test (nation-wide), and other inconsequential things.

If home was a pressure cooker, at least in school things began to improve. Sometime during that blissful period, Mom saw me watching porn. My brother’s collection, but obviously I couldn’t out him. I told them I found the disc in school and next thing you know they come to school and talk to the principal regarding this. Yet another father-son moment that could have been...

Then after the 10th Standard, I had to change school. Money was short and the school wasn’t going to reduce its fees. So off I went, leaving the rich kids of DPS, to a local school. The teachers here would also take tuition classes of these very students (so ethics went beautifully out of the window). The kids here would take these tuition classes, else they would be subjected to grading bias.

Run like a typical government institution, it was no surprise that the people who came to study here, too were from a different background, and culture. Barring a handful, I couldn’t have a conversation with any one of them. This was the phase where I got addicted to computer games. I would leave for school but instead of actually going, I started visiting this cyber cafe. I couldn’t bring myself to go to school. In the 12th grade, my attendance dropped to 19% before the school called my parents asking about me.

What ensued was a slap on the face (quite literally) and even more monitoring. So much so that my brother was then tasked with accompanying me to school every day. Perhaps I deserved it. It was the most important year of my school and I was slacking.

Then came college. Went to Mumbai. 3 years there on a pocket money of 1,500 per month (in Mumbai, yes). Sure I had hostel, and food. Perhaps I did not need more. I stopped buying clothes altogether, not that I used to do much shopping before. Again, who needs new clothes when you have your mind to colour your world. Death to superficiality! Never mind the embarrassment of going out on that rare occasion looking like the change in your wallet (useful sure, but you’d rather have notes).

Did not get placed anywhere so came back home directly after college, with nowhere to go (story for another day). I was definitely living up to my father’s dream. Did a course which he did not approve of. Took 5 years to complete a 3-year course. And came back home without a job.

Finally though I managed to bag a sales job in a multinational company. Something I was clearly not suited for. But I took it because the money was not bad (anything more than zero was not bad). Within 3 months I felt the pressure to leave, and that is exactly what I did. Didn’t tell anyone I was struggling. How could I tell my parents? They thought here I was at least doing something instead of just lazing around in the house. I couldn’t muster the courage to tell them I couldn’t do this, and that I was thinking of quitting.

Anyway when Dad found out that I left the company, the first thing he asked was, “Did you leave, or were you fired?” In hindsight, I think he just genuinely wanted to understand the circumstances of my departure. Well, I guess I would have been fired eventually had I not left. I stayed jobless for a while after that. Applied to loads of places, even if it meant doing something I did not particularly like. I couldn’t stay there could I, using up the space in the home, while contributing nothing. Here I was crying myself to sleep for failing to launch but what good would that do? I needed to stand on my feet and do something for myself instead of moping all the time.

Finally I got a job in a content writing firm in Bombay. Once again to the land of opportunities. I think my parents were proud, to some extent. My dad cried as my train left the station. The second stint wasn’t that bad. I was getting by, barely. But it was nice to be able to stretch my legs. But good things rarely last, and soon I was moving about more than I wanted, getting ripped off more than I would have liked, and then came an opportunity to open a new branch office in Calcutta.

I came back. Left all my clients, my independent life, because how often does one get an opportunity to head a branch office. But I thought being 24, and a person who does all this would change the perception that my parents would have of me. But predictably Mom began to rifle through my things once again and found weed in my drawer. Here I thought we had moved beyond this surveillance. But apparently not. However she decided not to question me about this at all. In fact she took the box and kept it - perhaps wanting an escape from all the failures I’ve brought upon them.

Anyway, today she came and asked me about the cards in the wallet thing. Well, she was right. Like they always are. Perhaps I don’t know anything.

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sofialatifoils · 4 years

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Sofia In Conversation With Nadira V Persaud

Nadira V Persaud

A friend, an inspiration, as well as make up artist, beauty expert and author of Press Here Face Workouts for Beginners, I am delighted to share with you my conversation with Nadira, to learn more about her tips on skincare, wellbeing and, of course, face workouts.

S: We are going through a profound period of change. What has been your number one way to keep on top of your wellbeing during this time? How do you stay positive?

N: Given that we haven’t experienced anything like this in our lifetime what has helped me is to accept the low days and that my feelings are normal. Over the weeks, my moods have changed from feeling close to my usual happy self to utter sadness but the more I gave myself permission to feel what I am feeling, the more I’ve found I can ride that ‘wave’ knowing it’s temporary.

In addition to this, I have made sure I have been outside each day regardless of the weather to exercise ie. going for walks or cycling. Stepping away from devices to observe exterior surroundings or turning to empowering podcasts have allowed me to focus on my breathing and steer myself away from pangs of anxiety.

As a freelancer I’ve missed the buzz of accomplishing goals, big or small, therefore, I’ve turned my focus to strengthening my core and abs which allows me to focus on my breathing, better my alignment and feel physically stronger.

S: You can now add author to your impressive career. Your recently published book Press Here Face Workouts for Beginners has gone global. What are your top 3 go-to facial exercises that you cannot live without?

N: I was taught Full Face Circulation from a young age and it has remained a favourite of mine to perform at times when I need a mindful moment to refocus, though ultimately this relieves tension in the mid part of the face around the mouth and jaw. Face exercises are not only about toning and achieving razor sharp cheekbones, though these goals are very much achievable, however, one must release the stiffness and knots before manipulating key areas, hence why this exercise is a wonderful way to wake up the face.

Eye Sweeps are a brilliant way to quickly disperse fluid under the eye. The light press and sweeping outwards tends to puffiness and ideal to do using an eye cream or eye oil plus it’s a great way to revive under eyes after long periods of screen time.

My Intense Definer exercise tackles trauma lines (marionettes) beside the mouth that can appear through crisis. This exercise not only intensely inactivates muscles but instantly relieves around the mouth, in areas you might be unaware of carrying tension.

Full face circulation

Eye sweeps

Intense definer

S: What advice would you give our readers on general skin maintenance?

N: There is no quick fix to healthy skin as it is a long-term commitment that should apply twice daily therefore, always consider the ingredients and integrity of your skincare, tend to your skin as you would nurturing a child’s. Your routine doesn’t have to be complex with a number of steps; a simple streamlined one that works for you is all you need.

S: You have beautiful skin that has clearly been cared for. How do you respond to people who say your beautiful skin is all down to genetics?

N: There is some truth that genetics is a factor however, we also pass down personal habits such as no regard for skincare and its importance, as it might be deemed vanity. I’ve met many people of all ages from many walks of life and cultural backgrounds with incredible skin with a few common factors being lifestyle, diet and some form of skin ritual.

My upbringing was centred around foods rich in nutrients, home remedies and looking after your skin. It was drummed into us from a young age almost perceived as ‘common sense’ as if ‘why wouldn’t you moisturise your skin after a shower?’ Tending to my skin is second nature so to those who have no regime, it’s never too late!

S: How did you know you wanted a career in beauty?

Nadira in action

N: Since a young age I had a keen interest in the Arts, History and Music and it was evident I was more creative than academic. It wasn’t until I dropped out of an Art Foundation Course after getting 3 unconditional offers with A grades that a Careers Advisor suggested job titles such as Fashion Designer and Make-up Artist, which I thought were unobtainable, yet I swiftly applied and was accepted on to Theatre Studies (Make up) BTEC HND at the London College of Fashion in the early 90’s. This 2 year course allowed me to apply my interests creatively and learn steadfast skills. As a Make-up Artist I find this still appeals to my love of art even though I’ve just switched medium.

S: A request from one of our readers – what are your top 3 natural make up tips for over 50s?

To get the most out of your lashes invest in quality eyelash curlers for optimum lift and to steer you towards the appearance of wider eyes. Along with this, consider mascaras from natural brands which offer nourishing ingredients which are also ideal for sensitive eyes. I love and recommend RMK Eyelash Curler and Burt’s Bees Nourishing Mascara.

Opt for cream or iridescent powder blushers to retain glow on the skin on upper features of the face, rather than matte formulas, for your complexion to appear radiant and plump. I love and recommend Pür Cosmetics 3-in-1 Vanity Blush Palette Beam of Light and Danessa Myricks Light Work Palette – Light Shaping Highlighters.

Brows can thin with age, therefore, choose a brow mascara which offers a hint of colour and sets in place whilst offering a softer finish than pencils or powders. I love and recommend Blink Brow Bar Brow Build Gel.

Burt’s Bees nourishing mascara

RMK eyelash curler

Pür Out of the blue 3-in-1 vanity blush palette

Danessa Myricks light work palette

BBB London Brow Build Gel

Thank you so much Nadira 🙂

I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed speaking with Nadira. Her book Press Here Face Workouts for Beginners is available from these stockists

I love my book, and try out different workouts every week. Why not give yourself the gift of a naturally toned and defined face.

Face Workouts for Beginners by Nadira V Persaud is published by Fair Winds Press

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Sofia In Conversation With Nadira V Persaud A friend, an inspiration, as well as make up artist, beauty expert and author of Press Here Face Workouts for Beginners…

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curtainsblindstauranga-blog · 5 years

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Finding Time-Saving Yoga Studio Management Software

Running and building up a yoga studio requires coordinating scheduling, marketing, accounting, class registration, class attendance, sales and credit card processing, inventory, payroll, staff management, documents, and so much more.

When you started teaching yoga, you wanted to teach yoga. Sure, you knew running a yoga studio or teaching classes involved administration, but perhaps running your yoga business is taking over your life.

Ask yourself:

How many software applications are you running to keep it all together? Are you using a fleet of spreadsheets?

The fact is there is some pretty cool software options available specifically designed for yoga studios that take care of all your yoga studio administration needs in a central, online location.

3 Fundamental Elements of A Great Yoga Studio Software Service:

Cloud computing capability (web-based software); and

Comprehensive, all-in-one yoga software that centralizes all your yoga studio administration operations.

Automation - the more the better. Typically this is easier with comprehensive, all-in-one software.

1. Cloud Computing Yoga Studio Management Software is Where It's At

Cloud computing is web-based software. You simply log-in to your account and manage your entire yoga studio on the Web. Stop with the downloads, installations, networking, and upgrades that plague desk-top software applications. Seriously consider putting your entire yoga studio software management needs on the cloud.

2. Centralizing Your Yoga Studio Software

Integrating separate pieces of software is a never-ending headache. When one application is upgraded, it then doesn't sync with other applications. What you get is a mish-mash of software that more often than not malfunctions. Instead of saving you time, you burn up time trying to get it all working together.

If you can, get yoga studio software that is comprehensive and meets all, or as much of your computing needs as possible.

3. Automation

The more you automate, the more time you save which lets you teach more or take more time off. The fact is, running a yoga studio is managing a large number of variables - students, staff, teachers, schedules, inventory, sales, etc. The goal is full classes and regular students. Automation helps you take care of the menial tasks so you can put your mind and time to activities you enjoy and that let you build your yoga business (and take a vacation).

Yoga Business Software Features to Look For

Not all yoga studios have the same needs. The remainder of this article sets out yoga studio software management features available. Go through them and see what it is you need.

1. Yoga Class Scheduling

Online class scheduling - this is an extremely customer-service friendly feature for your students. Consider the following functions you might want:

Wait-lists: let your students add their name to a waitlist. With software, save yourself the time of managing these lists. Let the software do the heaving lifting.

Student self check-in: spare your students standing in line waiting for you. Let your students scan their ID card and get to class. You also get time to set up and prepare for class.

Printable sign-in sheets: maybe you prefer physical sign-in sheets. Get software that offers a print option with sign-in templates. You can load the data later... or not.

Equipment and room rental scheduling: do you rent out rooms and/or equipment? Why not automate the process and make it easy for your yoga clientele to book your rooms and equipment themselves.

Recurring bookings: nothing builds a business like recurring customers. Make it easy for yoga students to book multiple classes and commit to your classes.

Class attendance statistics: You only know how your business is going if you can measure results. Software that produces easy-to-read reports on class attendance statistics gives you tools at your finger-tips to assess your money-making classes and classes that may not be worth having.

2. Scheduling Ease

Drag and drop functionality for booking is a real luxury. In fact, drag and drop anything is great. Make it easy for your clientele to book classes and appointments with you.

On the Cloud (web-based): Not only does cloud computing save you networking costs, upgrade hassles, and installation nightmares, but you can access your entire yoga business anywhere.

Multiple schedule views: daily, weekly, by name, service, gender and more. Birds-eye views of your schedule can be very handy when looking at the big picture.

Color coding scheduling: sure, you must memorize the colors, but in time the colors will speed up your viewing of your schedules.

3. Yoga Studio Enrollment Options

Perhaps you offer more than just yoga classes. If so, look for yoga studio management software that has the flexibility to schedule all types of events such as:

Courses: still a popular yoga class structure - a series of classes building on concepts.

Seminars / special events: do you ever have a speaker or teaching events? Make it easy for people to sign up and a breeze for you to manage the scheduling.

Plus software that enables:

Payment plan processing: yoga studios usually offer a variety of pricing packages. Make it easy to sell packages (without the hand-held calculator) by considering software that tabulates and accepts payment for yoga packages.

Payment status information: every business has some customers who owe money. Yoga studios are no exception (generally). See at-a-glance who owes you money (and how much).

4. Payment Processing

Credit card integration. Some yoga software includes credit card processing "on the cloud" sparing you the hardware to pay for and set up.

Link payments with services. This way you can produce financial statements any time to see the financial status of your business.

Membership cards (i.e. swipe cards for signing in) and ID tag capability: Lose the paper and look professional with swipe cards enabling self-check in and much faster client tracking.

5. Online Store for More Revenues

If you sell retail, why not create an online store? It's simple to do with the right yoga studio software. There is software that includes e-commerce capabilities so that not only can you track your in-studio retail sales, but you can actually start selling off your website.

In fact, you could consider partnering with yoga and health products suppliers to provide you products to sell on your online store. You can carry inventory or enter drop-shipping arrangements. The sky is the limit.

Moreover, with e-commerce, you can sell gift cards, yoga class packages, event tickets, etc.

6. Yoga Gift Card Selling Option

Gift cards are BIG business. Why not sell your own gift cards? You'll earn revenues and get more students in your yoga studio. Some yoga studio software has the capability to provide gift cards and program them with the software so that you can create them, sell them, and track usage. Other considerations when implementing gift cards for sale include:

Prepaid gift card options.

Able to track student account balances.

Loading gift cards with flexible amounts of money.

Selling your gift cards in your studio and online.

7. Email Marketing for Your Yoga Studio

E-mail marketing can give your yoga business a huge boost. If you get yoga studio software, see if you can find a product that integrates with e-mail marketing software. This way you can leverage your yoga studio software contact database with your e-mail marketing rather than having separate databases. Trust me - when you can centralize, it's worth it.

Not only can you use e-mail marketing to get more students or encourage regular attendance, but you promote sales, encourage referrals, sell products and yoga packages, promote events, send out class reminders, and more.

When you centralize your yoga studio student database with e-mail marketing software, you can segment your students so that you send the most appropriate messages to each person.

For example, if a student signs up online for a class, you can automate reminder class messages. This way you improve your class attendance, and in a worst case scenario, if the student can't attend, they'll be reminded to remove their name off the schedule opening up a spot for the wait list.

Then your e-mail system will produce an e-mail to the wait list alerting them to the open spot. Imagine doing all this manually. Automation is key.

8. Yoga Studio Inventory Tracking

If you sell retail, tracking inventory digitally can save you a lot of time. However, you need software that tracks the stocking and sale of items. Moreover, if you get software that includes inventory tracking, look for the capability to track in-store and online sales.

Again, this goes toward centralizing your operation. By tracking inventory with your yoga studio management software, you'll integrate inventory with sales which lets you produce up-to-date financial reports... not to mention save you time syncing inventory with sales and re-ordering.

9. Yoga Student Account Management

When you use cloud software, you can create accounts for all of your students - so both you and they can log-in to their accounts. This way you and your students can track purchases, their profile, class attendance, referrals, etc. This is very convenient for you and your students.

Liability: What about the dreaded waivers. Necessary, but not a lot of fun. If you let students sign up online, be sure you offer an e-waiver for them to agree to. This too is available with some yoga studio software.

10. Yoga Studio Staff Management

Whether you love managing staff or not, consider saving yourself time and the ability to manage your staff "on the cloud". Some yoga studio software enables you to do some or all of the following features:

A staff dashboard portal where you can send instructions to staff and to-do items.

Individual staff log-in accounts for each staff member.

Permission levels to various portals of your software. Again, this is where centralization works for you big time.

Staff scheduling - lose the monthly printouts and create staff schedules online where your entire staff can access it anytime from anywhere. Scheduling staff with software is much more convenient than on paper. Beside, how often does the schedule change in a month? Save yourself a few erasers.

11. Look for Payroll Management

Do you know how much you're paying out in wages, commissions, fees, etc.? It's not so easy to track with a yoga studio business given the variety of remuneration options yoga teachers opt for. There's hourly, commissions, flat rates, and combinations of these payment options.

Again, a quality yoga software product will track all your pay-rates for all your staff - no matter how complicated. It makes tallying the amount you owe easy.

Take for example, a yoga teacher that earns a flat rate plus a per student rate after a class attendance threshold is met. Okay, one class with one teacher isn't too hard to track, but imagine 30 classes and 5 teachers.

It gets complicated. Look for software that will track and tally all of this for you - all calculated with the swipe cards issued to your yoga students (if you opt for swipe cards - now you're starting to see how beneficial swipe cards can be).

Another payroll feature to look for is a punch clock for hourly employees. I'm not talking about a wall-mounted contraption. I'm talking about staff being able to quickly log into the cloud software and entering start and stop times at the touch of a button.

Finally, you want to be able to export all this payroll data into your accounting software saving you reconciliation hassles come tax time (and saving you lots of money in accounting fees).

12. Track and Measure - Look for Reporting Capability

You won't know where your business is going if you don't know where it's been and where it's at. This boils down to the financials - but not just the usual income statement, balance sheet, and cash flow statement.

I'm talking about in-depth class attendance, payroll costs, number of students per yoga teacher, yoga student and employee retention rates, no shows, product returns, and sales figures (past, present and forecasts) - to name a few reporting capabilities to look for.

13. Scalability - Get Software that's Priced to Your Studio Size and Needs

Okay, not every yoga studio wants to expand and build a huge business. That's why yoga software that scales is key. What I mean by this is yoga software that accommodates both small and huge yoga studios - and is priced according to need.

Look for here that offers different pricing packages so you can get a software package that serves your business as is - but has the capability to accommodate your growth - if that's what you do with your studio.

Where Do You Go From Here?

I've covered a lot of ground. Sure, you may not want or need all that capability. That's fine - but you might need more functionality in the future.

One thing is certain, you want to choose your yoga studio software carefully. Why? Because you'll spend a good amount of time implementing it and getting it going just right for your yoga studio. The time investment, with the right software, will certainly be worth it.

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willafigg · 6 years

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my hair looks different than when I interviewed, we turned in our IT director, and more

It’s five answers to five questions. Here we go…

1. My hair looks different than when I interviewed

I recently accepted a new job that I’m very excited about. It’s a promotion to VP, a huge salary bump and a great company doing inspiring work. The internal recruiter told me I nailed the interview and that the team is excited to have me. For the record, I’m a consultant.

I have very curly and unpredictable hair, so I got a blowout for the interview to ensure a good hair day (blowouts also just give me confidence!). The interview was two days with seven people, and my blowout lasted both days.

But I’m suddenly feeling really strange about showing up on the first day of work with completely different hair … not because my hair is curlier than the blowout let on, but because I have a side buzz that was 100% covered up by the blowout (sort of like this, but my hair is curlier). I have A LOT of hair, so from the front or when I wear it up, the buzz isn’t super noticeable.

The dress code at this office is casual (jeans), but I know this hair style is a little “different,” and I’m suddenly anxious that it won’t fit with the company culture. Do I acknowledge on my first day that I know my hair is “funky,” and if necessary I can style it to hide the buzz? I’d prefer not to style it that way on a daily basis, and I don’t want to grow it out (I’m a queer woman, and silly as it may sound this helps me feel connected to my identity). I could also flag that I am happy to cover the buzz during client meetings if needed. If the hair is an issue, I also WOULD grow it out for this job, I just don’t want to. I can’t decide if I’m totally overreacting and this is no big deal, or if my new boss will feel like I misrepresented myself in the interview. Do I acknowledge this? Do I wait to see if she expresses it as an issue?

I doubt it’s going to be an issue, especially in a jeans-wearing office. It’s true that some parts of consulting can be fairly conservative about hair, but when they are, they tend not to wear jeans. So I think you’re fine.

But if you’re really worried, you can always just ask your boss about it. You could say something like, “I realized my hair was more conservative-looking when I interviewed. Please let me know if this style will be an issue.”

The worse case scenario here is that you find out that yeah, they want you to cover it in client meetings. But they’re not going to think you misrepresented yourself in the interview process. People’s hair styles change, and that’s a normal thing.

2. We turned in our IT director and are worried he’ll retaliate against us

I have been at my current position (associate director of IT) for nearly four months. One month ago, my manager (director of IT) was fired for cause (he had been reading through documents in executives’ home directories, among other things). Two weeks ago, we got an invoice for a consultant nobody recognizes, supposedly working remotely to write policies and procedures. Our new director asked this consultant for the documents and they come in with metadata showing that they were last edited by the username of the recently-fired IT director, total editing time of a half hour or so.

I’ll spare you the details of digging through email, discovering the old director’s infidelities (using work email to coordinate assignations during business conferences), etc. The new director arranged for several of us to listen to the “consultant” on a conference call, which allowed for us to confirm that this guy is indeed the fired IT director. Suffice it to say, we confirmed that he’s attempting to defraud the company and have provided evidence to the CEO confirming this.

The CEO has determined not to pay any invoices, to cancel his (six-figure) severance package, and to send him a strongly-worded letter from our outside counsel.

Now that we’ve taken away approximately a year’s pay from this guy and thoroughly pissed him off, what should we expect in terms of retaliation? My peer and I, between us, have provided the evidence both for his firing and for his losing all of this money, and are both feeling very exposed, particularly as this guy knows where we both live and knows that we are the only ones who could have provided the evidence against him. How do we evaluate the behavior of someone like this?

It really depends on the guy. The most likely possibility is probably that you won’t hear from him again, at least partly because he won’t want to make the situation worse for himself. But if he’s unstable or irrationally angry, it’s possible that you will. I’d talk to your company about your concerns and ask them to help you figure out what measures you could put in place to protect yourselves from any possible retaliation.

3. Can sharing salary history ever work in your favor?

I have a question about sharing salary history. I understand why it’s usually preferable to avoid sharing it when possible, but are there situations where it can be beneficial? I’m thinking of something like this: I am currently employed in a well-paid full-time position and not actively looking to leave. However, the job I’m in isn’t a great fit in some ways, and while I’m okay in it for now I’d also be open to leaving for a lower salary to work somewhere that was more aligned with my values.

I periodically get contacted about positions that are more in line with what I’d really like to be doing (including some at places where I have strong relationships with people at the organization). Almost all of these are at nonprofits and would involve taking a pay cut, which I’d be okay with, though of course I’d like to minimize the cut as much as possible. In this case should I consider naming my current salary in the hopes that it will inspire a higher offer? Or will I turn them off by doing so, even if I make it clear that I’d be willing to leave for less?

It depends on how far apart you are. If your current salary is just slightly above what they’re envisioning paying, sometimes if they really want you, they’ll stretch to meet what you’re currently earning. But if you’re earning significantly more, sharing that is more likely to result in them just assuming they can’t afford you and moving on. Even if you explain you’d be willing to leave for less, they’re likely to skeptical that you’d be willing to move from, say, $100,000 to $40,000 — and if you are, there’s no real point in mentioning the $100,000 anyway.

I’d instead research the market and figure out what the market rate is for the work you’re hoping to do at the organizations you’re hoping to do it at. Then when salary comes up, you can talk in terms of what you’re seeking, rather than what you’re making now. Another option is to say something like, “I realize that in moving to a nonprofit, I’d be taking a pay cut, which I’m fine with. But can you give me a sense of your salary range, so that we can make sure we’re in the same general ballpark before we move forward?” (Some employers will tell you and some won’t, but when they’re the ones contacting you, it’s perfectly reasonable for you to ask.)

4. A customer asked me to send a recommendation to her boss

I sell wine for a distributor. One of my customers, a manager at a wine store, asked me to email her boss with what amounts to a recommendation for her (she’s done a good job over the last year and hasn’t received a raise, among other issues). I’m happy to do it, but is there any way this wouldn’t be appropriate or could backfire on me?

Not as long as you’re truthful. If you send over a glowing recommendation for someone whose work is mediocre, that’s going to make you look like you have questionable judgment. But as long as you’re honest in your praise, you’ll be doing her a favor that shouldn’t have any downside to you.

5. Giving a gift to my direct report but no one else

I am a new manager at a company where gift giving is sporadic and varies from group to group; in my 15 years here, I’ve only received gifts from bosses four or five times. I have only one direct report, but I’m a dotted line manager to about 20 others. I’d like to get my direct report a gift, but wouldn’t be able to give something of the same level to the others. Do you see this as a problem?

Nah. You’re not their manager. Dotted line manager, yes, but not the person responsible for their professional development, evaluations, etc. It makes perfect sense that you’d get a gift for your direct report and not the others.