#my life lately has been about the grind for survival /_\
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Vigilante Shit - Bucky Barnes
Authors Note: Never liked this one which is why it stayed in the drafts fr so long, it just always seemed empty. It's definitely missing something.
REQUESTS ARE OPEN
Word Count:9,131
Warnings: Cuss words, reader was once apart of the red room
Apart of my MIDNIGHTS EVENT.
Main Masterlist
Enjoy!
Draw the cat eye, sharp enough to kill a man
You did some bad things, but I'm the worst of them
Sometimes I wonder which one will be your last lie
They say looks can kill and I might try
I don't dress for women
I don't dress for men
Lately I've been dressing for revenge
-
It’s the pity on her face that makes you want to claw her eyes out, or maybe the happy family photo sitting on her desk staring and taunting you with their stupid smiling faces. Each of her children smiled like nothing was wrong in the world, like they didn’t have to worry about earning their way or surviving the day.
Dr. Aquinos children would never know pain.
But that was a given, they weren’t bought and sold off. They weren’t tortured and abused for years only to be torn out when Natasha fucking Romanoff decides to free everyone from that chain and force them into the real world.
Did it make you pathetic to say you missed it?
In the red room you had a cot, a meal at least once a day and training. Out here you were no one. No trace of you existed. No ids, or photos, no friends or family. You were nothing.
Even ghosts had more than you at this point.
“You know it’s common to feel this way about it? That longing to have it back? It’s the pain and the change, you feel like you have nothing right now but I can assure you that’s not true.”
You say nothing.
“Have you given any thought to our last session?” The therapist asks, voice saccharine amount of sweet that tells you she knows your looking for a fight today and she won’t be giving into it. You hated that she knew you would try that, you hated these sessions all together.
“Yes.” Lie. And judging by the quirk in her smile she knows it too.
“I think it’s extremely important for you in this next step, to get rid of the suit. What was it they called you?” You don’t reply for a minute, your own little form of rebellion, but she doesn’t let you get away with it for long. “The…. Cobra?”
“The. Viper.” You bite out, grinding your teeth together and fisting your hands at your side. “The Red Viper to be exact.”
“Can you explain to me why it is you got that name? I mean your other counter parts all follow a …..widow theme….. but you don’t?”
“It just….. happened that way.” You lie. “How much longer do we have?”
Why did she not have a clock?
“Ah. So the story has something to do with Bucky Barnes.” She smiles and you fight back the sneer.
“Nope.”
“You always ask for the time when memories of him are brought up.”
Not. True. You don’t bother arguing because that might prove her point.
“Can you recall what he looked like?”
A flash of ice blue crosses your mind, his eyes. Followed by roses and ballet slippers. A small opening to freedom right there in your grasp, his smiling face….. replaced by that of betrayal, the pain and torture you suffered for weeks after because he-
“No.” You lie. “I only knew him as the winter soldier.”
“Have you tried reaching out?”
“No. And I never will.” Not until you were able to kill him, get your revenge.
Your therapist didn’t know about your revenge list though,she would have you imprisoned for it. The list of names of every mastermind and agent that did you wrong, and at the very end of the list was the one person you actually managed to trick you, the one person you gave everything you had left to.
Bucky Barnes would be the last person you killed in this life, and you would make sure to enjoy every second of it.
-
It’s not everyday they pull you from your training program and load you into a transportation vehicle, and you don’t know whether to be scared or excited by the change in routine.
You decide on excitement, because a widow is never. Ever. Scared.
The keepers transporting you all avoid eye contact and you bite back the smirk, knowing that you installed that fear when you bit the thumb off the last guard that tried to touch you inappropriately. You might be hydras toy but you were not a plaything for these half wits.
“Your mission will be in direct partnership with the Winter Soldat.” The agent in front of you explains, watching you load up your widow uniform with hidden weapons “there’s a list of names that needs to be taken care of, and it might take a minute so they are pairing you both. They want no mistakes, only the best.”
“No traces no trails. No chances.” You answer, already having it memorized, biting down on your tongue when you remember the poor girl you left as a witness to your last mission.
Hydra never found out, but her scared scream when she caught you killing her father will haunt you.
You wondered if you might have had someone to scream over at one point.
“He won’t speak to you so don’t bother.” The agent grunts as the vehicle comes to a stop and he slams his fist on the side to let them know it’s safe to open the doors.
They all cast you another look as you try not to roll your eyes at the drama. If you truly wanted out of this vehicle you could slaughter them all, you just knew that hydra would track you down no matter what so what was the point?
They lead you down hundreds of gray halls, each getting darker than the last and the smell of mold and desperation heightened with each step. Finally at the very last cell door they all raise their weapons and slide it open, muttering something in Russian before a figure emerges.
The glint of his arm catches on the shit light above you first, and then he is there, glowering and confused in the same go.
“Soldat. This is the widow.” His mentor speaks in Russian, gesturing to you which makes the soldier give you one look. That’s it. One brief look of disdain and he goes back to looking at the mentor like you weren’t even there.
This mission is going to go well.
-
“You’re making progress Bucky.” Dr. Raynor hums, her eyes glinting as she watches him over the pad of paper she hasn’t scribbled on in the past hour. He likes to think that it’s a good sign, but he also tries not to get into his own head about it. “But I’d like to go a little deeper if you’ll let me.”
“Don’t really have a choice doc.” He mutters, but his tone lacks the usual bite.
“Funny. Have you slept in a bed recently?”
“I’ve made it to at least 3 hours of sleep in my bed.” He nods, not mentioning he thought the laundry detergent smelled like your shampoo.
“You bought any home decorations? Anything at all?”
“There’s a welcome mat by the front door.”
“Inside or outside?”
“…..inside.” He wasn’t brave enough to put it out in the hall yet.
“I just want a house that has a welcome mat and that cookie smell. Something to call home.” Those were your words, whispered to him the night before the soldier…..
“Tell me what you have been up to lately.”
“Lunches with Yori….missions with Sam…. And I’ve been…. Trying to find someone.”
“Someone from your time as the soldier?”
“Yes.” His throat is tight and he might throw up.
“For revenge?”
“No…. Well she might want revenge…… I just want her.” He admits.
Dr. Raynors eyebrows shoot up, and she tries to keep neutral as she asks the next question. “The viper then?”
“She didn’t like that name.”
“How did she get it?”
“Me.”
“And what did you call her if she didn’t like the name?”
“Flower.”
-
I don't start it but I can tell you how it ends
Don't get sad, get even
So on the weekends
I don't dress for friends
Lately I've been dressing for revenge
-
The roof of the bagel shop on the stupid block you were on was probably the worst spot to be.
Best, if you’re focusing on the fact that it’s the perfect hideout for the sniper gun you are aiming and the fact that you’re able to lay at a slant so your legs don’t falls asleep while you focus.
Terrible for the fact that you could smell the pizza shop next door perfectly, and your stomach was beginning to rumble in hunger.
But you had to focus, your target was supposed to be in his apartment right now, Viktor Aubrel, the man that sold you in the first place.
Your intel told you he should have been home an hour ago and yet you were still waiting in the winter air that sent a shiver up your spine, too focused on the aim to realize the two figures now on the roof.
“Are the widows that oblivious now?” A deep voice laughs causing you to whirl, knife out as you spot none other than the winter soldier and the new captain america, both watching you.
It was the captain that taunted you, a sneer making its way into your lips as you prepare yourself to launch. The winter soldier extends a hand out, blocking the captain with a skeptical look.
“Sam. A little forewarning, she doesn’t fight like the others.” He mumbles and you all but hiss, not giving either of them a moment before you’re launching at them.
They track your movements well, both standing to fight as you run across the roof, jumping up on the ledge to give you the upper advantage and launch yourself at them. Starting with the easier target, the man with the shield. Wrapping your arms around his neck and spinning your body until you have his weight thrown in the air. He manages to catch himself standing but you’re ahead of the game, jumping so your feet are planted on his chest and shoving him off the roof right as the winter soldier gets to you.
“I don’t want to do this.” He mutters and you hiss again, lunging with a knife out, slashing expertly over and over as he dodges as much as he can. “You don’t need to do this.”
The knife catches in the elbow of his metal arm and his flesh hand comes up to grab your wrist so you twist, kicking his knee down and flick another knife from your uniform.
“I want to.” You mutter in Russian, voice dripping with disdain as you raise the knife and bring it down. Only to get blasted across the roof.
The air leaves your lungs as you skid across the concrete of the roof, splayed out staring at the sky and blinking away the pain.
“She’s quicker than the rest.” Captain America huffs, helping the soldier up.
“A lethal experiment. Taking a trained widow and injecting her with mutated blood of some guy named Logan Howlett.”
“Where does the viper come from?”
“Her knives are all laced with venom and poisons. One touch to your skin and it doesn’t matter if it was a fatal wound or not. You’re out.” You hear them both approach, pretending to be passed out before they get close enough and you can kick the soldier in the stomach. He catches your foot, twisting so your body would have to twist with it or break, but you’re already pulling out a knife and launching it at the other.
A shout of warning leaves the soldier's lips as the knife nearly gets his partner's thigh, you take this weakness and twist until you are wrapped around him and launching you both across the roof. But he is already working his way out, twisting so you slam into the roof once more, his metal arm on your throat holding you down as you claw at it.
Panic attacks your body, scratching at the metal as the captain comes into view.
“Stop. We can help you.” The man sighs.
“Y/n.” The soldier mumbles, eyes pleading. “Let us help-“
Your foot bends to smash into his jaw and send him sprawling back.
“That’s. Not. My. Name.” Your voice is scratchy from the choking and it hurts to talk, but you don’t have time since you’re already dashing to clear the roof.
But the captain throws his shield and hits your ankle sending you falling until Bucky catches you and twists you with his metal arm so your back was to his chest and he can hold you.
“It is. You told me so yourself. Remember?”
“I wanna see my life before all this. I want to see my family and tell them I’m alive. My name was y/n. I found my file and I just-“
You were disgusted that you ever told him such things.
“LET GO!”
“We can help with your list.” It’s the caption saying this, his face holding pity. “We can’t kill but we can help take them down. If you’re willing.”
“They all deserve to die!” The one holding you counted in that.
“I’m not arguing that. But I am setting boundaries. Justice by more death is not the way to do this.” The man tries to ease, attempting a smile. “I’m Sam. You already know Buck-“
“Let me go!”
“We’re proposing a partnership. We help you take them down, get them arrested and you don’t kill any of them.”
“Right. And I get thrown in a cell right after I’m assuming.” You sneer, trying not to focus on the scent of hazel and coffee coating your senses from the soldier.
“You will be pardoned. You had no choice back then and we are giving you one now. Pardoned.”
“And what do you mean by taking them down?” What choice did you have?
-
It had been a week with the soldier when he finally showed a small amount of emotion. Insane.
You had been huddled in the corner of the abandoned hotel you made camp in, keeping close to yourself for warmth as he pretended to sleep by the wall. You knew he wasn’t actually asleep, not trusting enough to do so. And you don’t know when he does get sleep, all you know is you fight to the last possible moment your eyelids can stay open and you don’t sleep long.
The exhaustion and the cold were beginning to wear you down, a week in and you had yet to kill a single person on this list because the Soldat refused to listen to how you can manage it. With him it’s all silent and watching, your missions were usually more lively. You wore disguises and set traps. Hydra liked sending messages and it’s what you did.
They want a quick and efficient widow? They send Belova. They want a widow that draws attention to their dangers? A prize possession? They send you.
Which is why this entire mission is so weird. Why send you if- before you can finish your thought you are being pelted with a warm jacket, the Soldat glaring at you.
“Your teeth chattering is keeping me up.” He mutters in Russian, sitting up and checking all his weapons.
“As if you sleep.” You reply back in Russian, rolling your eyes. His eyes flick to you in surprise for just a second before he trains them again, watching the window in the opposite corner. “What’s your name?”
“Soldat.”
“What’s your real name?”
“I….. should the viper be asking questions?” He snaps, glaring once more before you roll your eyes and stand up. He watches your every move as you toss his jacket back and cross the room. “Where are you going?”
“To be a viper.” You sneer back, enjoying the way the Russian makes the words bite out more.
He stands up quickly when you move to climb out the window but you send him a glare and descend quickly, making sure he does not follow.
When you get back three hours later, he is standing in the center of the room with his arms crossed and a glare on his features.
You simply walk past him to grab your list, crossing off the first name. “Can we get an actual hotel this time? I need to shower some of this blood off.”
As you move to walk past him his arm shoots out to grab you, pain erupting as he bends your neck to look at him. You would allow this, because is his anger is on you then he won’t look into the 2 little children you helped vanish tonight after you killed their father.
“You do not make moves without me. Understood?”
“Yes Soldat.” You try to nod before he lets go.
“Viper.” He hisses. And you would allow it, because if anyone knew what you had done you would be killed.
-
The three of you ended up in a warehouse not too far away from the roof you had been scouting on, bucky carrying your bag of weapons on his shoulder as he tried not to look at you while Sam paced back and forth.
You sat on a fallen beam, seeming bored and uninterested as you picked at your nails. But Bucky knew that was your game, to let the world think you were a valid assassin with little to no care.
But he knew you cared, he knew how much effort you had put into saving kids back then. You had always been so warm without even realizing it.
But maybe that all changed, after it….. all happened he hadn’t heard about you again and after he was freed by Steve he couldn't seem to find any of the children you had saved.
“What happened to them?” He finds himself asking, his chest pinching at the sight of you. His flower. But that look in your eyes, the betrayal and anger…..
“The first three on my list? I dumped their bodies in the river.” You smile, turning your glare to Sam. “How about that pardon now?”
“The kids. The ones that you-“ you stand before he can finish his sentence , both him and Sam preparing for a fight as you seem to try and ease yourself.
“What kids?” Sam snaps, anger and protectiveness rolling off of him. “Did you hurt-“
“No. She used to smuggle them out.” Bucky explains. “When she got missions if there was a kid in the family she would pretend to kill them, and help the kid out.”
“I thought hydra confirmed kills by bodies.”
“Not when you’re the best.” You smile, that vapid venomous smile that made Bucky's stomach churn. “And Soldat is right. I used to smuggle the kids out.”
His chest hurts at the name you use, but he assumes that it’s fair. “Where are they now?”
He wants you to look at him, to tell him they are all safe and that he didn’t ruin everything. But you keep your eyes trained away, pain flashing through your features as you explain. “After you…. Told them….. they got the names and locations from me and sent out the shadow widow.”
“Kaltain Amerie.” Sam nods, recognizing the name. She was married to a fancy rich guy now, had been the one Yelena found.
“She took care of what I couldn’t. She did the job.” You nod, hands fisting at your sides as the words clang into Bucky. “And I was punished for my failure.”
“And the missions you got after they caught you?” Sam asks, casting a brief look to bucky at the word caught.
“I had a partner, and they always made sure I did my job.” Fuck.
He was going to puke, how many kids had…..
“You mentioned an alliance. Not an interrogation.” You snap, obviously uncomfortable. “And if you want to revoke my pardon because of-“
“I don’t.” Sam says gently, nodding. “And I’m sorry that it happened.”
“I’m not.” It was a lie and Bucky could taste it. Anything to keep both of them away, that wall you built up when he first met you.
“Okay. The name on your list. Let’s talk about how to get him.” Bucky changes direction, wanting to get you to ease again, not liking the pain in your eyes.
You continue to avoid looking in his direction, and he continues to stare at only you.
-
She needed cold hard proof so I gave her some
She had the envelope, where you think she got it from?
Now she gets the house, gets the kids, gets the pride
Picture me thick as thieves with your ex-wife
And she looks so pretty
Driving in your Benz
Lately she's been dressing for revenge
-
It’s a month into the mission when the Soldat tells you his name.
Gone were the days of sleeping on opposite sides of the room, now you both shared a bed. Gone were the days of him not sleeping, and he was now the one that fell asleep first.
Tonight being one of those nights, with you sitting against the headboard of the hotel bed, his forehead pressed into your thigh as he falls asleep slowly, letting you play with his hair as you review footage of your next name. The third on the list.
“My name….” He mutters, this time in English which still shocks you everytime he does. “It’s Bucky.”
“Bucky?” It tastes like vanilla on your tongue, your chest lightening as you whisper it a couple more times. “I like it.”
“What’s yours?”
“My file…. My file says Y/n.” You whisper back and he tilts his head up to look at you.
“You don’t seem to like it.”
“I….. it just doesn’t feel real.” You admit. “It feels wrong for me to use it.”
“I think it’s a wonderful name. It suits you well but… I think you’re my flower.” He murmurs back, moving to press his forehead into your thigh once more and finally lets sleep claim him.
The next morning you both work in tandem, cleaning weapons, he gives you time to make sure that your knives are still potent with venom as you try to come up with a plan to get the 5 year old girl out of the country without the soldier knowing.
But the betrayal of it hurts your chest, watching him work around you as a smooth unit. A team. That’s what you had become.
“Ready?” He asks in Russian, coming up to fix the hair that had fallen out of your braid, using his flesh hand to push it behind your ear as his thumb traces your jaw.
“Always. You?”
“With you my little flower? Always.”
-
It was ironic the way you and the Soldat still worked in tandem, moving with an effortless grace.
Sam, the captain, watches with wide eyes as you both move around each other.
“Do we have-“
“Yes we have enough intel.” You snap, closing the camera footage the second you spot the young boy running down the hall of the mansion when both him and his mom get home. The pain in your chest could be blamed on the image, and or the stupid soldier standing too close to you. “I can smell your breath.”
“He ate a cheeseburger for lunch again?” Sam chuckles and you stand straight, giving him wide eyes as the Soldat rolls his own. “You know you can’t get in trouble for calling him an idiot, right?”
“I’m aware.” Your words come out clipped and you try not to shudder at the way Sam snickers, catching your lie.
“Say it.”
“Say what?”
“Call Barnes a dumbass.”
“I won’t speak to the Soldat.” You reply, moving to clean your knives.
“Oh come on. Try it. It helps me..” sam laughs, sitting across from you at the kitchen counter as the Soldat shuffles closer to help you clean the knives. You could feel the warmth radiating off of him.
“You….. are a dumbass.” You squeak out, not looking at him. You hear him snort behind you and he reaches across to grab another knife. You roll your eyes at the way he presses his body next to yours.
“That was lame. Try again.” Sam laughs.
“Fine. You’re a DUMBASS!” You snap out, watching both their eyes widen before laughs break out and they start cracking up.
You feel your stiff spine loosen a little, the anxiety easing as you start laughing as well, all three of you cackling. His flesh hand finds its way to your lower back to keep you stable as you both drop the knives to laugh. And finally, after three weeks of working with them you drop the angry front, and give in to their warmth even though everything in you screams to not fall for it.
-
“Is this….. proper mission food?” You ask from the spot you had taken at the window, watching Bucky and Sam come in with pizza boxes and beer in their hands, both laughing at each other .
Bucky had, sort of tripped up on the stairs which sent Sam in a spiral of making fun of him, but the second they laid eyes on you that humor fell out the window, both going quiet.
“You don’t think pizza and beer are good?” Sam asks, offended. “This is the best combo.”
“Is it…. Allowed?” You ask again and Bucky feels that pang in his chest before he passes the box to you and opens it smoothly.
“You get the first slice pick.” He offers and Sam gasps at the counter.
“That….. oh that’s just cruel to me.”
“It’s an honor to pick the first slice then?” You quirk your eyebrow, humor written on your face, the spark in your eyes setting him on fire. “This is a New York custom?”
“Oh indeed.” He smiles, pushing the box closer to you. “It would be a great dishonor to refuse this.”
There is a second of discomfort, he watches you contemplate it before you reach for a slice, grabbing the largest slice and raising your eyebrows as you wait to see their reactions.
“Perfect choice!” Sam grunts, reaching around you to grab another slice.
“I was going to choose that one.” Bucky smiles, watching you bite it immediately then stick out your tongue at him before taking up a spot on the couch as both of them find their own seats in the living room. You seem tense still, obviously not used to this sort of freedom anymore and his lungs constrict at the thought that this was caused by him.
Back then you had been so… warm and open. Even as an agent you melted the ice exterior the soldier had around him. And through the muddled haze of his memory every memory attached to you was always crystal clear, like a flame in the fog.
“So…. you guys knew each other back when he was the Winter Soldier?” Sam asks, popping the lid off of a beer with ease, he leans forward on his knees and pretends to be more interested in the pizza box. Making it seem like he was an open book, a comforting thing.
“Yeah, we had a long list of enemies that they wanted us to deal with.” You answer, looking to the window rather than either of them.
“It seems like it went wrong…”
“It went fine.” Bucky is quick to snap.
“It was fine. We made it through half the list, before Hydra had to get involved.” You snap as well moving to set the rest of your slice on the plate left on the table for you. “I made a mistake.”
“It wasn’t-” Bucky goes to argue, chest tight.
“I let emotions muddle my task.” You explain to Sam. “I got too attached and ruined it. And then I got caught smuggling the kids out- I was further reported for my behavior and handled accordingly.”
“Hey, this isn’t Hydra.” Sam tries to ease you. “I think what you did was very noble and-”
“All I did was give kids hope where it didn’t belong.” You sneer. “I will never allow myself that weakness again.”
You cast Bucky a glare, his palms sweating and chest blistering as he watches you disappear into the bathroom and the shower running a second later.
Sam continues watching Bucky, eyebrows pinched together. “You reported it?”
“I… as much as I broke away at that time I was still under the soldiers spell.” Bucky admits, gulping down half the beer in his hand. “I…. I had sent in a mission report. Well I had to send it in and I had caught her plan a little bit before that.”
“I’m sorry that happened, Buck.”
“I am too.” He sighs. “I got rewarded and she… well they broke her.”
-
She don't start it, but she can tell you how it ends
Don't get sad, get even
So on the weekends
She don't dress for friends
Lately she's been dressing for revenge
-
“You need to be careful in the upper levels.” He warns, keeping his flesh hand on the small of your back as you both move to start scaling the side of the house.
“I know.” You growl out, keeping your voice low as his eyebrows pinch in frustration. “Don’t be a worry wart.”
“Stick to my side.”
“The job is quicker if I take care of the kids.” You mumble, leaning up to kiss his cheek lightly, the closest you had ever gotten to actually kissing him, no matter how much you wanted to. Three months with him and you were hopelessly in love.
“Fine.” He grunts out, his Russian sharp. He nods once before moving to his starting point, checking that you had begun scaling the wall to the kids room before heading in to handle the parents. But you had been so caught up in Bucky that you didn’t check to make sure both the children were asleep.
The girl screamed first, followed by the boy and you began rushing to ease their worries, kneeling by them and trying to swipe the tears away. “No no. Easy my little ones. It’s okay. I just need you to listen-”
But the boy screams again, this time at something behind you which makes you whirl to find Bucky in the frame of the door, watching intently with blood on his arm.
“No! Please!” You beg, up on your feet and shoving yourself in front of the children as he cocks his head to the side. “Please.”
“Move.” He orders, raising his gun. It seems he’s already assessed the weakness and was willing to handle the problem. “Now.”
“No!” You hadn’t even realized that tears were falling down your face until you could taste the salt, moving forward to grab his gun. “Please!”
“The mission-”
“They are children.” Both of you were speaking Russian, which seemed to be scaring the kids even more as they wailed, and you turned to ease them again. They dash into your arms, holding you tight as they sob. You would die before letting anything happen to them.
When you turn to see him again you see that he has lowered the gun and is merely staring at you, something sparking in his eyes.
You wait for the blow, but it never comes. Instead he nods his head and moves to pick up the boy. He helps you get them out, aboard a ship and hidden from Hydra. When you make it back to the hotel you pace a bit, waiting for him to finish you off.
But he merely stands in the center of the room, watching you closely.
“I’m sorry.” You sob, hand on your chest as you turn to him finally. “I failed the mission and-”
He moves forward in three easy strides, his hands grasping your jaw to bring you up into a searing kiss, arms wrapping around you tightly as he lifts you off the ground to keep you close. And all anxieties peel away, as he lifts his hand to undo your suit. Giving yourself to the soldier that night, and once you were done you stay huddled together, whispering your dreams of the past and future.
And for once you felt like…. You were home.
-
The next morning tensions were gone, and you seemed to have forgotten about the night before. Or at least you were pretending to, and Bucky didn’t know if he should be happy or angry at the fact.
You had combed through all the footage of the target, piling it all into a folder and he had sent the flash drive to the people needed that would be able to get him arrested. And after that had been sent you had sent out another envelope to his wife, with proof of an affair so she would be able to divorce him.
And just like that another name was taken off your list, and Bucky tried not to feel the pressure at the fact that he was sure you would be gone the second the list was done. And he wouldn’t have an excuse to see you anymore.
He’s lucky Sam went along with this plan in the first place.
“Where is Sam?” You ask from your spot at the counter, legs crossed as you play with one of your knives, watching him closely where he sits on the couch.
“He went to go check on his sister and her kids.” He answers, looking up to you. “They are really close.”
“That’s nice.” You hum, dropping the knife out of boredom. “What comes next?”
“You got another name?”
“Are we allowed to start without Sam?” You ask, eyebrows pinching together.
“Yes. We can. Your list?”
“Front pocket of my duffel.” You hum out, something having caught your attention. He reaches for the bag and checks for the list as you shuffle closer to his open laptop. For a second he hears you hesitate, but he had already made it clear that you had access to anything so he nods and lets you look as he finds the paper you wrote the list on.
His eyes skim across the names, landing on the very last name as his heart stops. ‘Bucky Barnes’ , and no matter how many times you blink the name does not disappear. Why did you let him see this? Was this a trap set?
He whirls, only to find you staring at the screen unblinking. “Flower?”
Your head snaps to glare at him as he shuffles closer, shoving your list in his pocket and looking at what had caught your attention. He finds an old sitcom, a scene with a mother curled up with her kids and reading them a bedtime story.
“You never told me why.” He mutters, sitting on the couch with you on the floor staring at the screen again.
“Why what?”
“Why did you risk your life for all those kids?”
“Because they… because no one fought for me back then.” You admit, turning to look at him. “What is this show?”
“Full house. I don’t know, Steve put it on my list.”
“Your list?” You ask and he nods.
“Things to catch up on.” He smiles. “Like the star wars series.”
“The what?” He blinks slowly at your question, purely shocked.
-
Three hours later you are both sprawled out on the couch, pillows and blankets thrown about with snacks everywhere. Bucky had dragged you out to the store, buying tons of snacks that you had never tried before and before you knew it the apartment cupboards were packed with snacks and you were preparing to see the first star wars.
“Should we… have brought all this to the mission base?”
“The what?” He laughs, leaning forward to snatch a gummy worm from the bag you were holding.
“The… this apartment. Are we allowed to use it for this?”
“It’s my apartment.” He shrugs, and you blink slowly.
“It’s empty though.”
“I have a couch!” He scoffs. “And a tv!”
“No bed, no plushy towels or…. This is your home?” You didn’t know why this upset you. “You live like this?”
You want to kill him. You want to kill him. Why does this matter?
“I have a welcome mat.” He points to the door.
“That’s an ugly welcome mat.”
“Is not.”
“That would scare away any child on halloween.” You snap. “Are you trying to ruin their halloween?”
“No one really comes up here on halloween.” He shrugs again. “Why does it matter?”
“You… you’ve been free! You have been free this whole time and this is how you live and- I…..”
“I had other things to worry about besides Hydra. And John Walker. Tony Stark and the snap and- well I was trying to find you.” He admits.
“You were trying to find me?” Your chest constricts, as you watch him. “You tried to find me?”
“I did but after I was freed it was like they made you completely disappear and I’m assuming it’s because they knew I would start looki-” Before he can finish his sentence his phone rings and he sees Sams name, giving you an apologetic look before picking it up. You take a moment to try and fix yourself, taking deep breaths in. “He WHAT?”
This catches your attention, sitting up to watch him carefully as he stands. “I’ll be right there.”
He hangs up and nods. “I gotta go help Sam. Stay here and-”
“I’m coming with you.” You snap, moving to grab your duffel.
“No, we have a situation with John Walker and I need to-”
“I am coming.” And just like that you grab your suit, giving him your best glare as he shakes his head. “You both are helping me. The least I can do is help you.”
“You don’t have to.” He mumbles.
“But I will. Let’s go.”
-
Ladies always rise above
Ladies know what people want
Someone sweet and kind and fun
The lady simply had enough
-
“Thank you.” You whisper, keeping your head on his chest as you trace patterns along his skin. “Thank you for helping.”
“If you got away what would you do?”
“Me? I….. I would find the kids and make sure they made it. I would buy a house and get a cheesy welcome mat for it. I would decorate for halloween and….. And I would adopt a kid and-” You could taste the freedom, imagine it right there. A happy life.
“That sounds… amazing, flower.”
You lift your head, smiling softly as you lean up to kiss him, and he smiles back before moving to kiss you back.
You feel him stiffen before sitting up quickly and reaching for his knife. “Bucky?”
“I’m sorry.” He mumbles. “I’m so sorry.”
Before you can realize the door is blown open and agents rush in to grab you.
-
“Oh…. oh I like this duo.” John Walker smiles, watching you stand slightly behind Bucky with your arms crossed. He doesn’t say a word and neither do you, both giving him a good glare. The Winter Soldier and The Viper. “I hadn’t realized that Bucko boy came with his very own sidekick.”
“этот идиот знает, что от него пахнет рыбой?” (does this imbecile know he smells of fish?) You ask, sneering a bit and taking a step closer to Bucky. “и так небрежно использовать свое имя. Я могу сломать этого человека за считанные минуты.” (and to use your first name so casually. I can break this man within minutes.)
“Я с нетерпением жду этого. Еще я очень голоден, мармеладных червячков мне не хватило, чтобы поесть..” (I look forward to it. I'm also very hungry, gummy worms were not a sufficient meal)
You nod, trying not to smile as he gives you a look over his shoulder while Walker shuffles uncomfortably on his feet. “Shouldn’t we all speak english?”
“Maybe.” Sam shrugs. “But I find it’s easier to let these two do their thing. You said something about a raid?”
“There is a train heading down south here in 30 minutes and I know for a fact that there are rebels planning on stealing what’s on it.”
“What’s so important about what’s on the train?” Bucky asks, casting a look towards you and you see him catalog each and every one of your weapons just as he always used to do as the soldat. You give him a glare and he shrugs.
“Weapons.” John mutters. “And if we can intercept the rebels then-”
“You get your job back?” Sam snides. John stutters for a second and you snort, enjoying the panic on his face. He glares at you, preparing to say something as you step forward to grab one of your knives. You had no clue who this man was but it was easy to know that he was not an ally.
“Get your-”
“She’s not a dog.” Sam snaps, as Bucky sneers. “We’ll help, but on our terms. No one gets hurt and no one gets pummeled without cause.”
“Fine. Let’s see what you guys can do.” John sneers at you both, and Bucky sends you an easy smile over his shoulder as you smile back.
“Устроить им ад?” (Give them hell?)
“следую твоему примеру, Барнс.” (Following your lead, Barnes) You smile back, both of you swiveling to Sam and moving together.
-
You stand with him on a bridge, keeping a hand on his arm to stabilize yourself as you keep an eye on the ledge, fixing the comm in your ear with your other hand as he does the same.
“I….. I never wanted to betray you.” He blurts, as John tries to convince Sam to give him one of their comms, his argument of ‘I’m part of the team!’ almost making you snort. But Bucky’s words kept your attention as you tried to play it cool. Keeping your eyes trained on the bridge before you.
“Is this a good time to talk about this?” You mutter in Russian, just in case Walker could hear you both like you could hear him.
“It was the status report. They were making me do it every month and….. I fought it. I really tried to fight it.” He admits in russian, casting a look to Walker before turning back to you, his hand shooting out to wrap around your arm as you lean to prepare a landing. “Careful.”
“I thought…. You were…. Nevermind it was my mistake.”
“It wasn’t a mistake.” He snaps, pulling you closer. “It… It was everything to me.”
“I shouldn’t have. I should have kept my eyes on the mission and I ruined it and I ruined it for those kids. You were a weapon dangled before me, they knew I would fall for it. They knew I would fall for the freedom of it. And I’m sure they already knew that I was helping those kids and they just needed to prove-” The words are spilling out and you just can’t seem to stop them, tears beginning to fill your eyes. “I just wanted… I just wanted to help them.”
“You did.” He mumbles, moving until his chest is pressed to your shoulder. “Please look at me.”
“I messed it all up.”
“You didn’t mess anything up-”
“I did. I fell in love.” You finally look at him, tears in your eyes as he takes a deep breath in.
“I-”
“Incoming.” It’s Sam's voice in the comms that makes you both jump before you look to see the train coming.
“On it.” You mumble back in english, stabbing a knife into the brick beneath you as Bucky keeps a hold on your arm.
“Be careful, we’ll be right behind. Keep a knife ready and-”
“I’ve got it.” You laugh, watching the train get closer and closer.
“I just worry.” He admits, leaning forward to kiss your cheek softly. “And just so we are clear, I fell in love too.”
You try not to smile, giving him one last look before using the chord and launching down as you hear Sam count down in the comms, feet landing on the top of the train with a thud before you dive for the top grate and begin working on tearing it off.
You manage to tear it off in time to duck and lay flat as a sign under the bridge appears, managing to avoid it before crouching and climbing in as the train breaks from the bridge, three heavy sets of footprints hit the top of it while you climb across boxes to get to the end of the cart.
“Viper?!” Walker calls, landing in the crate followed by Bucky and Sam. You don’t bother answering, too busy trying to lift the shaft on the cart.
“You good?” Sam asks, coming to your side.
“I’m fine.” You mumble. “I can handle the mission sir-”
“Did you just sir me?” Sam laughs, leaning to help you with the shaft, letting the sunlight break in as the wind snaps in both your faces.
“You guys see anything?” John yells across the way as Bucky hops over a box and reaches you both.
You have just enough time to turn, ready to bite a response to Walker when you spot the bomb taped to the far wall. Your mouth opens in an attempt to yell a warning but it’s too late. It all blasts to shit.
-
There was nothing but pain as you hung suspended in the cell, the Shadow Widow sneering at you from her spot in the corner while Valkov took a break from torturing you. Your breathing is ragged, blood falling out of your mouth with the saliva as your eyes water.
You can no longer feel your legs, and your fingernails had been torn out first. Sobs racking through your body as he asks the question again, his russian loud.
“WHERE ARE THE LOOSE ENDS?!!”
You couldn’t betray the kids, you couldn’t do it. So when he picked up the drill you closed your eyes, sobbing once more as you try to blink Buckys face out of your memory, succumbing to your punishment.
-
Heat blasts against his back as you scream out, Sam yelling loudly, all three of you grasping anything you can as the train keeps going.
Bucky’s metal arm finds purchase on a broken handle of the train, trying to pull himself up as Sam grips the side grates of the train trying to activate his falcon wings while you struggle to keep hold of what is left of the floorboard in the train car, nails scraping as you grimace in pain while your legs stay suspended in the air.
“HOLD ON!” He calls, reaching his flesh hand for you before the metal of the door groans and he has to freeze.
Walker appears, bleeding from his ears and looking frazzled as hell, but Bucky breathes out a sigh of relief when he sees the idiot reach to help you. Hope that you would make it out of this mess, that is until John stumbles as he reaches for your hand and ends up making you lose your holding.
You scream out, nails scraping as you slide out, nearly all your body suspended in the air. Both Bucky and Sam scream, reaching for you before they realize they can’t.
“When does this fucking bridge end?” Bucky snaps, looking down to the hundreds of feet below, memories flashing in his mind.
“Language.” Sam grunts, exhaling in relief when he sees you manage to grab the final woodboard, your last chance at holding on.
“Complete the mission.” You snap. “I can get up.”
“We don’t leave each other behind.” Bucky grunts, using his flesh hand to reach for a rope connected to the roof of the train car.
“Hydra tells us we need to complete the missi-”
“This isn’t Hydra and I’m not leaving my girl on this train.” Bucky snaps and Sam whoops out a loud ‘fuck hydra’ as they both struggle to get to the main opening.
There are thuds on top of the train and you risk a look to see multiple hooded figures with bags getting ready to ransack the weapons. A grunt of anger passes through you as let one hand free from the board, much to Bucky's chagrin as he yells out for you before you reach and grab your compact launcher you had hidden in the belt of your suit and shoot the roof with the grappling hook, pulling yourself up right in time for Walker to fall back into the car.
“This manchild is useless.” You sneer, reaching for Bucky immediately, hands grasping his tactical vest and dragging him as much as you can into the train car as Sam struggles to get in as well.
“There are about 15 figures. We should have about 10 minutes before they blow the rest of this train up.” You explain, keeping your hands on his shoulders as you assess him. “Are you hurt?”
“No I’m-”
“I’m hurt!” Walker calls, making you hiss an unappealing word at him in russian before moving to look at Sam.
“Do you want the viper or me on this mission?”
“Viper would be nice.” Sam nods, looking at all the weapons. “Viper for sure.”
You nod, turning to assess Bucky one more time before he nods at you and you both begin working.
-
While he was doing lines
And crossing all of mine
Someone told his white collar crimes to the FBI
And I don't dress for villains
Or for innocents
I'm on my vigilante shh again
-
You both work in tandem, every punch he throws shoves the person straight into your kick. You slash your knife at anyone that gets too close to him, slicing their skin easily as he snipes out anyone rushing to the train.
Sam is finding the rest of the bombs, disarming them to the best of his ability.
You hiss in pain when you get hit in the jaw, but Bucky is there smashing the butt of his gun to the back of their head as you blink away the tears. His hand finds your jaw, assessing the damage before turning and nodding to the path you guys need.
“So…. what’s the plan after this?” He asks, huffing as he gets to the slate you had originally been planning on clearing.
“After this? Probably dinner.” You laugh, bending to break the controls. He adjusts himself so you were back to back, him watching to make sure you were good.
“I mean…. After this mission.”
“I….. I want to finish the list.” You answer, tearing out a board to access the rest of the control panel.
“Does that list still include me?” He blurts, making you freeze. When you don’t answer he looks down to see you already staring up at him with wide eyes.
“You saw that?”
“On your list. Highlighted and everything.” He nods, snapping his attention to a thud across the way, finding it empty. It was enough to get you back to work, focusing on the wires and buttons again. “I would understand if you wanted to-”
“I don’t anymore.” You snap. “I don’t think I ever would have been able to but it’s not like I planned to make it far after I got out. I didn’t have a plan. Everyone else had a plan and I was left! I was tortured and maimed for wanting that freedom, and when the time came I was the only one that had nothing to live for.”
You were seething, and he could only agree. He hated the other widows for what they did to you, that would never be forgiven.
“I wanted a family. That’s all I wanted.” You whisper, finally breaking the right chord. The lights immediately die out and the train lurches as it comes to a complete stop.
“Is that still what you want?” He whispers back, holding his hand out for you to grab and help you up.
“I don’t deserve it.”
“You are the only person in this entire universe that deserves that.” He snaps. “And it’s important to me that you know that.”
“It’s not like I have much of a future open.”
“Well I think you have a bit of a future in the vigilante game if you ask me.” He smiles.
-
I don't start it, but I can tell you how it ends
Don't get sad, get even
So on the weekends
I don't dress for friends
Lately I've been dressing for revenge
-
“I’m sorry, you used to what?!” Sarah laughs, coming around the kitchen counter to grab a bottle of soda from your hand, eyes wide. “Dip your knives in lethal poison.”
“It made things easier. Even if I didn’t hit a vital organ I still knew the job was done.” You explain, shrugging a bit as she laughs. You still got nervous when talking about your past, but Sarah seemed anything but judgemental.
Sam's sister ended up being your very best friend on this earth, which surprised you to no end. You loved her kids and you loved her. You especially loved girls night because you never thought this would be an option in general. Nonetheless you had friends now. You had a home, with a silly little welcome mat that was left on the porch for the trick or treaters every year.
The very same one that was getting trampled on every time Sarahs kids ran through with your adopted children, covered in mud and laughing loudly.
“Hey! Mind your mess!” She snaps out but you can’t stop smiling as you watch your adopted 4 year old chase after one of her sons.
“What are you up to?” Bucky asks, coming in from the garage with Sam and Joaquin smiling from ear to ear as he rushes to kiss at your jaw.
“We are getting ready.” You laugh, shooing him away.
“For?”
“The Eras movie. You have daughters now Barnes. You need to get with the program.” Sarah scoffs playfully, making her brother laugh as they pick up the snacks and head to the living room.
“Hey…. I just wanted to say thank you for your help on the mission the other day.” Torres smiles before following the rest into the living room leaving you with Bucky.
“Hear that? Vigilante shit right there.” You laugh, leaning forward to kiss him.
“Still waiting for you to kill me.” He whispers against your lips, winking before heading to catch your daughter as she tries to dash past, making her laugh loudly and reach for you.
#marvel#mcu#marvel imagine#mcu imagine#marvel franchise#mcu franchise#marvel smut#mcu smut#marvel fluff#mcu fluff#marvel angst#mcu angst#marvel fanfictin#marvel fanfiction#mcu fanfiction#bucky barnes#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes imagines#bucky barnes au#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes imagine#winter soldier#winter soldier smut#winter soldier angst#winter soldier fluff
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Hi! I saw your svsss art and your style seemed familiar and nostalgic. It reminded me of a comic I used to read in 2016ish(?). It was a big favorite, but lost track of it when it was no longer listed on hiveworks. I looked for it a few times since, but "magic theory + circles" got me nowhere.
Scrolling through your blog, I found it - Sfeer theory!! It's so gratifying to find it again. I reread it immediately. It's a great story with complex worldbuilding. Your art style is wonderful! It feels so nuanced and intentional. There's this flow to your comics, across the panels. Characters are so expressive and real. And it's distinctive enough for me to recognize after all this time, wow!
So, I guess I'm saying, thanks!! Love your art and ty for sharing it. I'm very glad to have seen it :)
Gosh what a wonderful message to find in my inbox! Glad you found the comic again and that it still stands strong to you.
A lot of our projects (Sfeer Theory def top of the list) has been under an unofficial hiatus for a while now since roughly 2020. My father passed at the start of the lockdown. and it had a pretty big impact on my life as it served as a catalyst to completely re-examine and re-evaluate how I work and the way I create. There were other very major upheavels happened since then which only reinforced how important it was that I focus on myself.
My evolution has centered on what kind of artistic journey I want to actually have rather than be compelled to burn myself out surviving. Nearly 4 years later, I've really completely restructured my life for the better. I'm healthier, both physically and mentally, and as a result my art also has been better for it. At the moment I'm solely focused on getting back to my grind with better grounding under my feet.
I think of Sfeer Theory every day and in fact have started working on pages again since the late spring of this year, but I don't want to make promises about when updates will start again. I just feel I owe some kind of explanation to waiting fans.
Sfeer Theory is a story I absolutely will see through to finishing, I just needed to figure myself out. Please look forward to it starting up again sooner than later.
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Headcanon Series - Genshin men with the knowledge that you're a vampire: Diluc
Notes from the crypt: Henlo! I wanted to try my hand at headcanons, so naturally I started with Diluc. This was done on mobile so it may be a little short, but I will be doing more genshin men with this vampire series, so feel free to comment who'd you like most to see.
Tags: gn!vampire!reader, implied sub!diluc, small angst to smut? Nothing detailed unfortunately but heavily implied. Vampire bites
• Probably the least surprised, he's seen Dvalin and learned his nation's god is a regular patron of his tavern, so vampires? Wouldnt phase him.
• In Angel's Share, he'll ask if he needs to accommodate his drinks so you can enjoy them, as in if he needs to actually add blood to your bloody marys.
• Has thought about offering to become your blood bag, but blushes furiously at the thought of you chomping down on his neck and going to town, so he's still yet to ask.
• Doesnt pry into your past, how you were turned or how you hunt, but will intently listen if you tell him anyway, even if you are slightly tipsy and rambling your entire life's history to him. Imagine his surprise when he learns you've been trying to survive off boar blood among other animals, and the question of using him pops back to the forefront of his mind.
• Its a question that didnt take too long to answer after he finds you being ambushed by enemies while on his way to Dawn Winery one night. You were outnumbered and clearly losing, most of the blood he's seeing coming from you, he didnt want to think about what would have happened if he didnt jump in to help, finishing off those who dared hurt you before catching your falling figure in his arms.
• His heart breaks at the sight of you, covered in the same blood you're losing, words slurring as you struggle to keep your eyes open. Diluc panics, picking you up and rushing off to his home so he could dress your wounds to stop the bleeding, praying to Barbatos that he's not too late to save you. You're still fading in and out of consciousness on his couch when Diluc realizes his mistake: you need blood. Its much too late to try and find a boar for you to feed, and he'll be damned if he left your side. Swallowing hard, he tears his coat off and unbuttons his shirt to expose his neck before gently sliding a hand under your head to guide your lips to his sweat coated skin.
• His heart pounds in his chest when you dont move, and he whines softly as he whispers pleas in your ear to take from him, please drink his blood. A gasp is ripped from his throat when you suddenly latch onto him, like predator to prey and he can feel it, the pain mixed with pleasure that makes his head spin.
• He's shocked for all but a second when you find the sudden strength to flip positions, with his back now on the couch all he can do is gasp, whimper and moan while you take your fill sloppily. You growl against his skin, clawed fingers practically ripping the rest of his shirt off in a feeble attempt to bring him closer so you can have more of his intoxicating taste. For someone who doesnt drink wine, his blood can only be compared to a fine brand you once drank a couple hundred years ago, the taste was addicting, much like the man below you.
• Before you could take too much, you pull yourself off with a wet pop. Panting, you look down at him to see what could possibly be the most fucked out expression for a man who hasnt even been fucked yet. His cheeks are as red as his locks, eyes half lidded and filled with filthy desire, and you're almost worried you took too much from this poor soul when his fingers run through your hair and he starts to grind his hips against yours. Its a normal reaction for most people who have been fed from a vampire, its something you're used to, but you werent used to Diluc pulling your head down to crash his lips against your bloody ones, moaning into your mouth while he licks his blood from your fangs, shuddering at the metallic taste that keeps you alive, keeps you by his side.
• Needless to say, the next day when Diluc was working a shift, he ignores the stares at the bandages on his neck while he serves you your usual bloody mary. You're smirking at him fondly, giddy with the knowledge that underneath his black attire were more bandages covering the other bite marks you placed on him last night, along with the love bites you gingerly placed on him when you didnt use your fangs.
• After that, he's sure to inform you that if you need blood to come to him, no more boar blood. He's also sure to passive aggressively tell you that you'll only come to him, he'll be available anytime, just for you. He left out the part where he wanted to be the only one who can experience the incredible sensations during your feed.
#tombtales#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#genshin impact headcanons#genshin headcanons#diluc ragnvindr#diluc#genshin diluc#diluc x reader#diluc imagines
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Oooh, okay.
Idk if this is okay but I'm going to shoot my shot.
Can you please do either yandere bang chan or lee know (you can pick).
Fluff+ smut+ angst
The reader is starting to become unhappy and lee know or bang chan uses sex as a way to 'take care of them?'
Thank you 👍🏻👍🏻
𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐦𝐞
pairing: chan x fem!reader (afab)
genre: slightyandere!chan. idol!chan. hurt/comfort. angst. slight fluff. smut - MDNI, 18+ ONLY. reader pov. established relationship.
content & warnings: explicit & strong language. mild thematic elements. this one's got the angst lmao. some mild fluff (i think??). reader is experiencing burnout from work/feeling unhappy and depressed. chan knows what's going on and wants to help. pet names (baby girl, babe, etc.). smut warnings below cut!!
word count: 4.8k
summary: recently, life's been feeling rather dull for you. and with you getting caught into the trap of doing the same daily grind, it's up to your boyfriend chan to shake you from your cloud of unhappiness and try and heal your exhausted heart.
18+ warnings: unprotected sex (stay safe out there, guys!). dirty talk. top!reader. soft!dom/sub/switch undertones. making out. strength kink. manhandling. praise kink. nipple/breast play. riding (cowgirl style, baby 🤪!!). slight sub-space. scratching.
a/n: okay, so i might've gone a little ham on this one, but IN MY DEFENSE- chan is just so fucking hot lmao. and the idea of actually getting to top him for once??? when he's usually a leaning dom in bed?? yeah, the brain isn't computing and is instead melting atm. 🫠 hope you like this one, and that it's to your liking, @whatudowhennooneseesyou... thanks for requesting (and sorry for the late posting haha, uni has been a total bitch this semester)!! 💕
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ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ sɪᴛᴇs (ᴛʜɪs ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs). © ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ
The headache came onto you like a literal bitch that night. You tried your hardest to focus on the work that was laid out before you on your desk, but it was hard to concentrate when your temples were throbbing with pain.
It felt like someone had taken hold of your skull, and was squeezing the very life out of it.
A deep sigh fled from your lips as you stared down at the project you had been working on for the past two months. It was due to be submitted to your manager in the next week, and everything about your job hinged on you getting it right. It was a report on all of your past work for the entire year, and it was of the utmost importance that you got all of the facts correct.
You hated that you were working so late into the night, but there was no way to avoid it. Since you started on the project, it had been full speed ahead. You hadn’t taken a single break from the work and even committed every waking second of your weekends to it.
This, of course, put your relationship with your boyfriend Chan into jeopardy - on somewhat of a hold.
Sure, he was just as busy as you, and would usually stay up with you most nights working on his projects, but things were just… different for him.
He was doing what he loved. He was staying up late into the night to create things that he adored.
Whereas, you were barely scraping by. Barely surviving through this stupid project.
But you kept telling yourself, every day that you awoke from a restless sleep, that it was just a little bit longer.
Just a little bit longer, and then everything would be okay.
Just a little bit longer, and then you’d feel happy again.
Because honestly, you couldn’t remember the last time you had let yourself go - let your mind wander away from the constant stress of work - and indulge in some true, unadulterated joy.
The days seemed to pass by in a blur, folding into one another and forming a huge lump that just spelled unhappiness.
It was honestly really fucking depressing, to wake up every day and not feel the zest for life that you once did. You used to love your job. It used to be your entire personality, the thing that kept you going for such a long time.
But you didn’t quite remember the moment when it had stopped feeling that way, and instead felt like something that was slowly sucking the life right out of you.
You tried to keep your unhappiness hidden from Chan as best as you could. Since he already had to deal with so many unhappy people in his life; managers, members, family, and especially fans. Plus, he tended to unnecessarily worry for you whenever you’d fall into such dark holes of bleakness.
It had happened before… twice, to be exact.
Once, when you had just started dating, and then another time well into your relationship.
Chan had taken it all in stride and helped you get yourself back on track, but this time…
This time just felt so much different.
You were seriously at a loss for what to do.
On the one hand, you didn’t want to stop working at your job. It had been your livelihood for so long, and you feared how its absence would make you feel if you decided to quit.
But on the other hand, the constant drainage, the constant stress, and the slowly growing depression and unhappiness weren’t a burden you could bear for much longer.
Even still, you had to finish your project.
If you didn’t, you had no idea what would happen.
And your manager was a stickler about deadlines.
If you even submitted projects an hour over the deadline, you got an astute scolding from him.
Trying to clear your mind from your useless worries, you began to focus back on the work at hand, your eyes scrolling down the enormous sheets of paper that you had filled out earlier that day at work. You turned back to your laptop to begin searching for your next topic of research when your eyes caught on your screensaver.
It was a picture a passing stranger had taken - upon request - for you and Chan when the two of you had visited the nearby mountains as a Christmas weekend getaway in the year prior. The two of you were beaming in the photo, with Chan’s arms firmly wrapped around your waist and you leaning into his hold, pressing a gentle kiss against his cheek.
You swallowed at the sight of it all. At your blatant happiness.
And you couldn’t even remember the last time you two had done such a thing- the last time you had gone on a date.
It had been well over two months, ever since you started on your big project.
Just thinking about that, about the fact that this odd… distance had suddenly grown between you two, only forced the solid pit in your stomach to widen.
But looking at the bright screen only seemed to worsen your headache in the end, so you deemed it okay to call it a night. It was Friday, so you’d have plenty of time to continue your work for the rest of the weekend.
Folding up your binder filled with papers and scraps, you shoved everything - including your work laptop - into your bag that was thrown onto the floor nearby. Standing up from your desk chair after what felt like hours of being hunched over in the same position, you immediately felt relief in your spine from the stretch of being upright.
You filed out of your home office then, the one that you and Chan shared in your apartment. The living room/kitchen lights were all switched off, indicating that Chan had already come home and was probably working in bed.
And sure enough, as you closed your bedroom door behind you with a mild click, you saw your boyfriend sitting on his side of the bed, laptop and mechanical keyboard open as he worked away at producing.
His eyes flitted up to you at your approach near the bed. “Hi, baby girl,” he said, voice low from not being used in so long.
You offered him a weak smile, the exhaustion beginning to take over at the mere sight of your bed. But no, you had to take a shower. That’d surely help your head feel better. “Hi… I was about to take a shower. Wanna join?” You asked, already stripping yourself of your blue denim jeans.
Chan rose an eyebrow your way, his curly, dark brown hair hanging low in front of his eyes. “Yeah, sure, just give me a minute to finish up here.” He finally said, focusing back on his laptop once more.
Saying nothing more, you stepped into the adjoining bathroom to prepare the shower. Your head hurt from the stark, hospital-white lights of the bathroom, so you decided to light a few of the candles that you had placed around the room, to give some nice ambient lighting to everything.
You two hadn’t done such a thing - showered together - in quite a while. Which was why you assumed your boyfriend had given you such a peculiar look at your offer.
But, at that moment, you realized that you needed him.
Needed to feel him close, under the hot water, if only just for a few minutes.
Maybe then, all of the fears and concerns of your life would wash away. With the suds and liquid.
In no time at all, you had the water warmed up and were standing under its delicate spray, combing a few fingers through your hair and massaging at your temples. Already, the heat was a great help to soothing the pain that radiated across your skull.
You heard movement just off to the side of the shower then, and your eyes cracked open as Chan was stepping in behind you. Immediately, the water was running down in rivulets across his skin, trekking down the smoothe plain of his chiseled abs.
You stayed silent and turned around so that your back was to him as he was closest to the spout now.
“You got a headache?” He asked, voice smooth and gracing across your ears against the sound of the water running between you. He knew you so well. Knew that whenever you’d turn on the bathroom candles, it meant your head wasn’t in the right space.
“Yeah… got it from work,” you began, leaning down and grabbing your coconut-scented shampoo bottle. “I’m sure it’ll go away after this shower.”
“Here, let me…” Chan said, suddenly taking the bottle from your grasp. You stood completely still, spine going rigid at the feeling of his hands beginning to rake through your locks, the subs of the shampoo weighing down your hair. “Work’s that stressful, huh?”
“You’re telling me.” You groaned in displeasure, closing your eyes against the feeling of his practiced fingers running across your scalp. He hadn’t washed your hair in such a long time, it felt somewhat foreign to you. “I just wanna be done with this project already. It’s so fucking stressful.”
Your boyfriend was silent for a few beats, as he tipped your head back and washed the shampoo out of your locks. “You’ve been so busy lately... sometimes, I think your schedule’s even more packed than mine.” Chan finally mused, laughing soon after. But it wasn’t full of mirth. Instead, it was dry and humorless.
Because there wasn’t anything funny about your situation; about your unhappiness, or your coming burnout, or your growing depression.
“At times, I wonder if I should even keep working at this job…” You started, feeling Chan begin to massage the paired conditioner into your hair neck. “But then I remember why I started and how it would make me feel if I left, so I always end up staying.”
“But how does it make you feel when you continue to stay?”
That threw you for one.
You weren’t expecting such a serious question from him.
And all at once, the floodgates were opened.
The first thing to unleash from deep inside of you were the tears. They ran down your cheeks hard and fast, before being washed away with the shower’s water.
You wiped at your eyes helplessly, breath hitching painfully in your throat. “I don’t even know why I stay- it’s so fucking exhausting and stressful. I-I just can’t take it anymore.” You mumbled, miserably holding your face in your hands.
Chan had stopped his washing and was slowly turning you around then. His fingers found yours, and slowly pulled them away from your warm-cheeked face. “Hey, it’s alright, baby girl… no one’s forcing you to stay there.”
“Yeah, but if I leave, I’ll lose such a big part of myself.”
“But maybe, you need to put that part of you to rest. To bury it in the past.”
You stared up at him through blurry eyes, your chest rising and falling with your uneven breaths. The tears were still flowing, unbidden, down your cheeks. “I… I’m just so lost, Chan. I don’t know what’s the right decision anymore.”
He leaned into you then, gently pressing his heated forehead against yours. “Well, you don’t have to make a decision just yet. But… I just want you to be happy again, yeah? I wanna see that spark in your eyes come to life, like before.”
Your eyes widened slightly at that. So, he had noticed everything. But of course, he had- he was just so perceiving that way. “Y-You… how did you know that I’m unhappy?” You blurted out, still taken aback by his words.
He tucked a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, “I’ve always known, baby girl. You can’t hide anything from me… I just know you too well.”
“Then… why didn’t you say anything?”
Chan shrugged, canting his head to the side in thought, “I don’t know, I guess… I wanted to give you some space. It seemed like you needed it, to work through your feelings. I didn’t want to be too overbearing and stuff, since I worried that that would make you even more overwhelmed. But- I realize now that I shouldn’t have done that. Should’ve talked to you about everything, before you fell too far.”
“It’s not your fault,” you said, reaching up and abruptly pressing a faint kiss to his lips, “It was my decision not to tell you how I felt about everything. I’m sorry, I should’ve communicated better.”
He gave you a tiny, satisfied smile then, pecking you right back. “Well, we’re communicating now, so that’s all that matters, right?”
You nodded slowly, and silence fell between the two of you again. You bent down and captured his bottle of shampoo in your hands. Without saying anything, you began to run the woodsy-smelling liquid through his hair, marveling at the way the familiar scent took over your entire body, throwing you into a bout of strong nostalgia.
“Missed you… so much.” You found yourself saying after having helped him rinse out the lathered subs.
Chan’s eyes softened exponentially then, as they seemed to glow in the liquid-gold candlelight of the bathroom. He looked down at you with a peaceful smile curling the corners of his mouth. “I missed you too… every single second, of every single day.” He reached out, hands fitting around either of your hips and pulling you flush to his bare body.
He bent down into you, pressing soft kiss after soft kiss to your mouth. You smiled between every one of them, closing your eyes at the way that his mouth pressed against yours in a perfect, exquisite kind of way.
Then suddenly, he was gripping you tight, hoisting you up into the air and pressing your back into the cool tile of the shower wall. You glanced up at him, eyes widened slightly in surprise at his quick movement.
“You gonna let me take care of you, baby girl?” He muttered against your lips, mouth beginning to pull away from yours and trail around your face with faint pecks.
“Take care how?” You asked, breath hitching in the middle of your chest. A moan threatened to spill out of you from the way that his plump lips gently pressed around your face.
Chan’s fingers kneaded at the skin of your waist, with the scalding water falling around you, slicking your bodies together. Leaning into you with a sly smirk plastered on his face, his tongue darted out, tracing around the line of your lips, before prying your mouth open and tasting you. He tasted of warm, comforting black coffee and sugary toffee- just like how you had remembered.
When you broke apart to catch your breaths, Chan finally spoke, “I was thinking about…” You felt his hands move away from your hips as the words came out, his fingers sinking into the plushness of your ass. “My cock in your beautiful, aching pussy… haven’t felt you in a while, been missing it all…”
Your eyes widened at his confession. The two of you hadn’t been intimate with each other in… well, with you being so caught up with work and everything, you honestly couldn’t remember the last time you had given in to your deepest wants and needs.
But all at once, you already knew the answer to his unspoken question. Because yes- you had been thinking about your boyfriend in that way, for a long time. Without even realizing it. In the dead of night, when you were so very exhausted from work, you had imagined him and his radiant face and dark eyes, as he slid his hands down your body, loving you in all the right places.
“Yes, please… yes.” You begged in a breathy tone. Chan’s mouth was on yours after that, kissing and licking, as he wrapped both of your legs around his torso and peeled you away from the shower’s wall.
Words didn’t need to be spoken between the two of you, as he moved to turn the water off with you tightly grasped in his arms. And in no time at all, he had the both of you dried off and had blown out the many candles in the bathroom. Soon, he was leading you to your bed with its messy sheets and duvet comforter.
Your boyfriend laid you atop the cushy foam mattress, helping to gently rest your head atop a pillow. “Where do you want me, love?” He asked, lips pulling away from yours, a hot string of saliva stretching between the two of you.
You swallowed down a moan at the absence of his plush mouth against yours, feeling the rising desire inside of you pooling in your cheeks with a pink flush. “I-I don’t know, just… just love me.”
He nodded slowly, lips beginning to trail down the column of your neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses against your clavicle, before sucking on the tender flesh there. “Now that, I can surely do.” He finally answered as he continued to move atop you. He had you encased underneath him, with either of his strong legs resting on the sides of your hips.
Chan dipped his mouth close to one of your exposed breasts, kissing the puckered skin there. One of his hands grasped onto your waist, while the other played with your nipple that wasn’t currently getting kissed by him.
“C-Chan,” you breathed out, squirming underneath your boyfriend at the way that his gaze locked with yours. At the way his eyes flooded with dark, heated desire as his mouth came over your nipple, swiping his tongue across it before taking as much of your breast between his teeth as he could. “Feels so fucking good.” Moaning, you squeezed your eyes shut at the feel of his teeth lightly tugging at you, at the way his fingers were kneading your chest so perfectly.
His tongue drew away from you then, a smirk brightening his sharp features. “You feel so amazing, baby girl,” he whispered, as his mouth came over to meet your other mound - the one that wasn’t coated in a thick helping of wetness from him. “Love you so much… fucking adore your tits.”
Your mouth fell open as he began to taste you once more, pushing and pulling against your hardened nub. The moans escaped from that deep place inside of you, and you pressed your legs together as the slick slowly dripped out of you.
After he was seemingly satisfied with riling you up just from the breast worship alone, Chan yanked his mouth away from your chest and found your lips once more in a passionate kiss. You could feel him press in between your legs, his growing length just straining to feel some type of friction - some kind of release.
“Do you want me to stretch you ou-” He began in a quiet, deep voice, but was quickly stopped by the way that you suddenly gripped onto his muscular forearms, nails digging into the skin there.
“No- no more foreplay,” you managed to ground out through clenched teeth. You hadn’t realized how needy you were for him, but all at once, you were aching to feel him inside of you - and his continuing with the foreplay by stretching you out with his fingers wasn’t going to cut at that moment. You needed him right then, and you couldn’t wait any longer. “Just want you inside of me already.”
His eyes flashed with surprise at your confession. The two of you hadn’t been intimate in quite a long time, so your words must’ve thrown him for one. After all, he always wanted to make you feel good and safe - and jumping right into the fucking usually wasn’t his style. He liked to take things nice and slow. Keep it sensual and loving, all at once.
“Okay, then I guess I’ll-”
“Wanna ride you, babe.” You practically whined, peering up at him with big eyes. Your cheeks felt like they were on fire, as you desperately clawed at the skin of his arms. Your core was dripping so much, you felt it run down your legs and moisten the sheets underneath you. You hadn't been so needy in... you couldn't even remember when. But all you knew was that it had been a long time since you were so desperate for his cock.
And immediately at your words, you felt Chan harden between you. A sardonic smile widened his mouth. And without saying anything else, he was tightly holding onto you and moving on the bed so that you were the one on top. With your knees sinking into the mattress on either side of his hips, you nestled down into his lap, feeling Chan’s legs come up and bend behind you to offer some support.
“Take it easy, yeah?” He said in that gravelly voice of his that only came out in the bedroom. His hands came up to grab at your hips, fingers digging into the flesh there as you rose slightly to position yourself over him. “Just take things slow… don’t want my baby girl to get hurt.” Your boyfriend was worried that something would go wrong since the two of you hadn’t done such a thing in quite a while. But you were fucking dripping with want, so you knew that it would be an easy slip.
Nevertheless, instinct took over your entire body, as you lined yourself up to his red, swollen head that was dripping with precum. Then, in a single breath, you were sliding down the length of him ever so slowly, savouring the way that he filled you up so completely.
You leaned down into him, palms resting against his warm, muscular chest. “Fuck- I love you so much,” you groaned out, biting down hard on your bottom lip as you began to rise up and down on him, loving the way that he helped your movements with the strong grip he had on your waist.
“Missed you,” he grunted out, meeting you halfway and thrusting up into you. The tip of him hit that sensitive, gooey spot deep inside of you, and you all but melted on top of him, clutching at the sweat-slick skin of his pecs. “Missed this- cock buried in your lovely, tight pussy.”
Throwing your head back, with your eyes screwed tightly shut, you let out a string of moans. Your hips met together with every other breath you took, as you felt him stretch out your walls in a flawless, languid kind of way. “C-Chan, I… I-” You failed to find the words on your tongue when you distantly felt one of his hands leave your hips, traveling to the front of you.
In no time at all, he had a finger pressed against you, finding your tender clit and rubbing delicate circles there. This spurred on your movements, as you straddled his waist and rode his cock in a rabid kind of heat- like it was the first time you had done it. “That’s right, baby girl…use me, like you’ve always wanted to. Use my cock for your very own pleasure…” He grunted out, pressing down harder on the swollen bundle of nerves between your widened, trembling legs.
His cock reached so far up into you, it felt like you were about to break from the sheer size and speed of it all. Your legs began to shudder with fatigue, and your hands desperately clutched at his shoulders as you felt your release rising from deep within you.
“Chan… I’m gonna-” You gasped, eyes suddenly wide open as you stared down at him. You took in the sight of his face - at the way his chocolate-brown locks curled around his damp forehead, at the way his red lips were kiss swollen and his dark pupils were blown wide with so much lust.
He continued to circle a finger around your enflamed clit, veiny arms helping to raise you up and down on his length, his free hand digging into the flesh at your hip. “That’s right, baby girl… want to use my cock to cum? Do it. I wanna see your pretty, little cunt quiver and shake and milk me fully.”
His filthy words were the thing that finally tipped you over the edge, throwing you across the side of the cliff. Your entire body began to vibrate with your release, and you squeezed your eyes shut at the feeling of fire lighting down your backbone. The blood rushed through your veins, the slick pouring out of you as Chan continue to thrust up into you as he chased his high.
You screamed out his name again and again, along with a string of curses. You had stopped moving atop him, letting his large hands control your entire body and move you across his hardened cock. Letting him manhandle your body to his liking like you were his very own sex doll. He had said you could use him, and you had. But in the end, he was the one to use you. In your blissed, fuck-out state, you distantly felt him stiffen up inside of you, just as he found his release as well.
Still gripping onto his proud shoulders, your nails scraped across his skin there as you felt his heat erupt within you, coating your walls in sticky whiteness. The entire time he came down from his high, Chan was spewing words of praise- all directed at you. “Love you so much- love your body, your mind, your soul…” He continued to say over and over again in that strained, husky voice of his.
And finally, when the shaking in your limbs stopped and your heart had begun to beat at a normal pace once more, you relaxed into your boyfriend, resting your head against his bare chest. His softened cock was still nestled between your walls, but you didn’t care- if anything, it only made the cuddling more intimate.
He wrapped two arms around your torso, holding you close to him and leaving light pecks atop your messy head of hair. “You know, I still haven’t forgotten about your work predicament…” He started in a quiet tone, making you look up at him with a frown. “But for now, let’s just forget about it and focus on sleeping, yeah?”
You felt the tiny smile erupt across your face before you were even registering what was going on. Leaning up into him, you pressed a gentle kiss against his puffy-pink mouth. “Honestly, I like the sound of that,” you giggled, carding a few fingers through his curly locks. “But, shouldn’t we like, get cleaned up?” You rose an eyebrow his way, surprised that he wasn’t wanting to get up and clean everything, since he usually liked to do so right after sex. Keep things sanitary and healthy, and all that jazz...
Chan shook his head slowly, “Nah, that shit can wait until later… but for now, I just wanna fall asleep with my baby girl in my arms.” He nestled his nose against yours, before placing a soft kiss on your forehead.
“Okay… me too.” You finally admitted before you rested your head against his chest once more. He still made no move to pull out of you, and you didn’t mind. The cockwarming was something the two of you hadn’t done in a long time, and it felt familiar and nice and loving, so you weren’t complaining one bit.
The two of you lay there in silence, his Chan running gentle fingers through your hair, and you listening to the steady beat of his heart just underneath your ears.
And even though you hadn’t found the answers to your predicament yet,
And the future was still looking rather uncertain,
Right then, you could care less about the worries of everything else in your life.
Because for once in what felt like a very long time, you were feeling whole again.
Happy,
Content,
And most of all… loved.
All because the man lying underneath you,
Because of the one who had quickly slipped into a deep sleep,
Because of the one who was still slick with sweat and wetness from your lovemaking,
Because he had helped you through it all.
Your very own boyfriend Chan had helped to make you feel better - to take away all of your anxiety and the uncertain thoughts running through your head.
And all at once, as you lay there on top of his warm, comforting chest,
As the shadows of sleep threatened to take over you from the corners of your vision,
You realized that your headache had disappeared.
As soon as Chan had his arms around you earlier, while underneath the hot water of the shower, the throbbing in your head dissipated.
Because that’s how it had always been; with him right by your side, hugging and kissing and loving all of the pain away.
Fin.
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© ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ
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2024 - A New Timevir
This post contains some words about the loss of death.
Writing is a very fun hobby that I've done for as long as I can remember. It probably started as written exercises and fanfiction during childhood. It transformed into intricate worldbuilding as I was introduced to the hobby of tabletop roleplaying. In recent years, I've written interactive fiction, scripts, novels and sourcebooks.
But one constant caveat is that I almost never shared my work. It was an enjoyable process to convert thoughts and feelings into substantative manifestations in the physical realm. Yet despite many coworkers, friends and family members asking about them, I'd always give the same answer of "it's personal and not worth sharing".
I thought about why I was doing this, and noticed I have been living the life of an observer. I enjoy the detail of the world around me, and paying attention to things that others would consider irrelevant. I would even deliberately put myself out of my comfort zone if it meant putting myself in a location that I could see something new. If there was an interesting protest in the city I was living in, if there was a strange, dangerous event occurring in the vicinity or if there was an unusual experience or location to be discovered, I'd happily waltz in and act like that I was meant to be there. During the riskier parts of youth, it even meant a bit of trespassing, but I stopped doing that after a few dangerous close calls.
What I was not doing as an observer was manifesting that in the world. Many of my projects would be built, some even to completion, and then they'd sit in a box, frozen and inaccessible through their obscurity. Nothing I made ever felt like it was deserved observation compared to the rich tapestry of the world around me. Even in the rare moments I found pride in something, it would soon feel obsolete compared to some next logical alternative.
A lot of my life has been spent on "the grind". Work had seemingly crept its way into absorbing the free energy I had in an addictive loop. At first, it was merely a way of ensuring survival and trying to get out of school debt. It took the majority of my late 20s to get out of school debt, a feat I was able to just reach before my 30th birthday. A few more months, and I had a decent emergency fund and a "real" disposable income, assuming I wasn't going to try and buy a house (which to be honest, isn't an exciting proposition at the moment. Real estate trends caused by high demand have made housing costs extortionate, but that's a discussion for another time).
Work is of course necessary for human survival. Indeed, if we took a snapshot of lives lead across history, nearly everyone has had to contribute in some way to their communities for them to function well. The meaning of work has shifted through the various periods of history significantly, but its goals have remained the same. What is implictly understood, even if not necessarily well recorded, is that there was a whole tapestry of living that existed outside of these actions that could mean vastly more to the people that lived around them. While much of these ideas have persisted through the passing of cultural works, very rarely have we got a good snapshot of the life of any specific individual, even if they potentially had amazing tales to tell.
Identity has slipped through my fingers somewhat accidentally. It had felt much easier to sacrifice every bit of effort to accumulate knowledge, resources and a position of comfort than it took to stand for anything. At first I may have resisted the ideas of exaggerating an accomplishment, or cutting on the quality of a product to create it faster, but those values became too easy to discard when reward was on the table. But if anyone were to ask me about the morals of the situation from the outside, I'd remark a half-mealed "it depends" which really meant nothing beyond the acknowledgement strong values had merit and self-interest could get in the way.
It seemed like the intelligent thing to do because the things that were remembered across time were great accomplishments, long standing monuments and the best and worst of events moulding humanity's timeline. It was easy to mistake what was memorialized for what was important in life. It then followed that if memorialization was an ultimate goal, that the best way to do so was to accomplish some great feat was to set yourself up with as much power as could be wielded, a good proxy for which was money, before putting all that strength into ventures in the hope that something would hit and a legend would be born.
It is possible I could have remained trapped in that vicious craving for objectives if it wasn't for a life shattering event at the end of 2023. It was at this time that my younger brother died unexpectedly in his mid twenties. A whole life was potentially ahead of him, but it was cut short at almost no notice. My relatively normal family crumbled into chaos and it was shattered.
In the emotional fallout, I looked again at what I had done. Of course I did not regret unburdening myself from debt, or succeeding at a career. But in all the push for an abstract notion of success and legend, I had lost an invaluable voice that could never be replicated. My brother had lived his life to his fullest in his time on Earth. He had moved country, he had found love and friendship, and he had ideas of a future. Seeing these wither into tears, memories, and finally a grave, made me realise in the end that a memorial would not make up for the moments that would never be had again.
My new year's resolution for 2024 is to try to reestablish a voice. To truly live in the world and not merely plan a story for my death. To make sure that my friendships and bonds remain strong and not let them disappear due to the inconvenience of maintenance. To stand for something and not just exist in the pursuit of convenience.
One way I am going to test myself on this goal is to try to make sure I write something down each week. Something public. It won't necessarily be something profound, but at least it may prevent me from slipping back into forgetting about the things that really matter. Perhaps it is better to exist in the world than merely drift through it.
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Sorry about this, but it’s is me moaning again.
I dunno. I am so worn out.
Everything is broken or breaking. Everything needs work. I can’t afford to fix or replace anything, and the basics of things like “shelter” are getting rather conceptual rather than real.
My body is failing me, and has so much wrong at once I don’t even think my standard answer to how I’m doing of “surviving” is true anymore. Like, the clock is ticking on when I break down for good. It can be summed up as: on physical/health level a pretty bad.
I need proper exercise, like not working on stuff, but like my walks in the woods. I miss the woods. I used to go every single day, and now I haven’t even been managing once a week!
I don’t have time for just being with animals, so they only see me when I feed them or give them medicine. I feel guilty all the time.
You know, I haven’t taken pictures of my sculpting for over three weeks now. I haven’t even taken a single photo in a week…a WEEK! ME! Who had been taking 5,000 photos a month! I carry my camera but I never have time or energy or focus or…I dunno, I just don’t care.
I haven’t gotten any sculpting ready to sculpt with. This little bit of old stuff will take forever to grind back into usable, and if I didn’t have to make an Easter gift for Mom I think I might just give up. It’s no fun with sculpey that crumbles and won’t stick, that has given my thumbs and fingers huge calluses, and I’ve no energy to waste making this god awful crap.
But I’ve gotta make something for Mom. I have no ideas and awful sculpey that won’t even let me attach ears on a damn rabbit! I’m really stressed about this…
Long ago I gave up writing except for my nightly journal entry. Even that has gotten to be more of a laundry list of my day since my life got too wrecked for contemplation. I haven’t missed a night since I was in my late teens, but for the last five months I’ve been falling asleep writing almost every single night! It’s gotten so bad that I am falling asleep before I finish writing about even my morning.
Then I wake up, at 3 or 4 am with a light burning my eyes, ink all over me, an a deep sense of fear and despair overwhelming me. I lie awake for hours, desperately trying to distract my brain from feeling like I’ve fallen out of a plane without a parachute.
Six hours of sleep. No matter how early I go to bed, or late I lie in, I can’t seem to get more than 6 hrs of sleep! I dream about sleep when I actually do dream.
I miss dreams. Proper dreams. I used to have the most amazing dreams.
I also miss daydreaming. I used to do that ALL the time. My hands could be busy but I could still conjure other worlds. . I loved being cozy in bed just so I could imagine, and now I lie there and worry. I can’t even daydream in that most perfect of settings!
Hell, I can’t think. As a child when people asked my favorite thing to do I’d say “thinking” first. Now it’s like there is no space or energy left over. Am I getting stupid too? I feel like I am. I certainly can’t focus.
That includes focusing on movies. I used to watch a movie every single night. Now even when I watch one I feel like it slides right out of my head. I “watch” it enough to tell you the gist of the plot but it’s like a partially over heard voice rather than a conversation.** I do a lot of “I think I’d like it, but I need to rewatch it when I can actually, you know, watch…”
I keep forgetting things. I understand why. I have soooo many things to do, new things get added every damn day, I have only one me to do it all, and this me is exhausted. Of course I forget things. But it still bothers me.
Today I remembered I had forgotten the new book to start reading Mom. I’d left it at her house yesterday, having picked it out before spending the next three hours working on stuff. So I went around there to get it to read it when I called her, but it turned out I had also forgotten where I put it. (In my defense, I’d set it on top of a stack of stuff I’d been sorting out, and when it fell over I’d been too tired to pick it up right then. It was kinda out of sight, out of mind under the pile) Then, when I went to call Mom it turned out I had forgotten to charge me phone! So today Mom never got her call because I’m a forgetful idiot!
I’m terrified I am going to forget to pay this one bill by the end of the month. I have to save the money for it out of my grocery funds, so it’s going to be after next week’s shopping trip before I can pay it. Until then I have it set up on the stove, which, yeah, is a bit of a hazard, BUT at least I have to look at it every day.
I have to look at it every day. My chest tightens when I look at it. And this is a doable bill! I just have to spend a few weeks with mac-n-cheese or bean soup. Imagine what it would be like if I had gotten the car worked on, like I need to, or if I went to a doctor, like a normal sensible person would do?
Sorry. I don’t suppose there is a point to all this. I’m tired, I feel rotten, my life is getting more precarious by the day, I am mostly not doing any of the things I enjoy, and not having fun when I try to. I have no money or energy or time. And, being isolated and alone in all this, I vent on my silly blog where people are trying to enjoy two year old snow pics without having to put up with my constant whining!
LOL/**sobs**
(And now I’m thinking of all the asks, comments, and messages I haven’t replied to yet. Geez! That makes inflicting this on you folks even worse!!)
**Movies are like conversations, at least if you do it right. Watching isn’t a passive experience as you let yourself go “into” the movie. It doesn’t matter if you hate it and mock it, or adore it and are inspired. Your watching reacts. You aren’t watching the “same” movie as the person sitting next to you, because you bring your experiences, personality, and so forth to it. The object of the movie is incomplete without a viewer, but each viewer completes it with themselves. Not explaining this well….
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games I wish I had when I was a kid!
Yu-Gi-Oh The Eternal Duelist Soul
This was one of the best selling games on the GBA, but I got Dark Duel Stories on GBC instead. Eventually I got 7 Trials to Glory, a mixed bag of a game I nonetheless hold dear to my heart, but I wish I had EDS as a kid. EDS is the perfect game to be the first YGO game on GBA. The spelltraps are massive blowouts, caveman Yu-Gi-Oh is in full effect, and the cardpool is both small and nostalgic. EDS (or the original Japanese release) was the first video game that actually tried to follow the rules of the real world OCG/TCG card game and it did a pretty good job along with a clean presentation, great music and flavorful decks to grind against. Plus the packs you pull from are mostly based on real Japanese card sets! Basically I admire a lot about what this game did in 2002 and in a potential world where I got it alongside my GBA SP in 2003 I would have been set for years. Instead I got... Dark Duel Stories in late 2003 around the time I got my GBA SP, and that game is .. not as worth investing time into. Oh yeah and it has a cute calendar system with weekly matches at the duel shop and oooo it's just such a cute game!
Goldeneye 007
I didn't have a lot of N64 games as a kid, but out of all my regrets on the console, I easily missed out the most not owning Goldeneye. Now I can appreciate it as basically the Super Mario 64 of first person shooters and imagine that, even though I only owned one controller, those levels would have kept me coming back again and again obsessively for hours. I can just imagine how I would have organically find the island on Dam by myself and wondered what was out there. I never had that chance
Super Smash Bros Melee
Throughout the early 00s I had various nostalgic experiences playing the original Super Smash Bros, and eventually I craved very dearly to play it's sequel. Literally all I could tell you is that it had (Scott the Woz voice) "a freaky STORY MODE! now that's cool!" and you could play as Bowser. It looked so damn cool but I didn't have a GameCube. I would have dreams about playing this game I knew very little about. I actually can guarantee I read about the Sonic and tails in melee rumor before I had seen more than an hours worth of gameplay in my life (all through playing demos in 2002).
When did I actually get a GameCube? 2007. I actually remember visiting Nintendo World NY in 2006 right before release of the Wii and playing Melee on one of their demo kiosks (and wind waker for the first time ever, notably). I got my hands on a GameCube in summer 2007 thanks to a friend of my dad's and pretty much the first thing I did was go to the still surviving Hollywood Video in The City and rent melee. Now considering I was 12 the first time I got to extensively play melee and really enjoy it, you could say I was still a child and that's true. I wish I somehow had a GameCube around 2004 and got to play it then though. Look, things felt different in my life then, it wasn't the same kind of feeling to me. By the time I got to play it I didn't really have that childish exuberance and excitement. Plus I got a Wii that same year for Christmas so my overall excitement for the GameCube was muted lol.
The Simpsons: Hit and Run
I would have gobbled this up as a kid even if not the biggest fan of the simps, if I had gotten this at release for PS2 I could imagine I would have spent many hours playing it
Pokemon Stadium 2
As a kid I desperately wished I had this game and rented it a bunch of times. When I discovered you could emulate N64 I spent most of my time doing so playing this game. I eventually got my own real copy around 2019 but considering I would leave the first game on for days on end I would have loved to have had stadium 2 as a kid. Plus it actually has single player content and provides plenty to people without use of a transfer pak too! I was fascinated by the updates as a kid renting the game
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i spent last night by myself as i cleaned up after my first dinner party. my childhood best friend and i made handmade gluten-free pizza, herbed french fries, and a garlic-olive oil aioli. i also bought some sparkling mineral water and local-craft made sodas for everyone. i had my best friend go to the garden out front of my house and make a bouquet for the dinner table; we have daisies and white hydrangeas. we played the evangelion cover of fly me to the moon while guest showed up. they brought wine and housewarming dishes.
later on, after a few hours of talking, everyone went home. i spent the night washing dishes while listening to a crime documentary. life comes at you fast. i started the year terrified to leave my bed and now im hosting dinner parties in my new dining room.
there is still residual suffering; i realized i have a lot more trauma than i previously thought. my roommates will slam a door accidentally or move their personal items to a private place or walk loudly throughout the house and i panic because i assume theyre mad at me. every slammed door makes me shake. im so used to my mother's volatile emotions that i cant comprehend people doing things accidentally or non-threateningly.
the quiet has also been hard. now that there isn't screaming and abuse, the silence is unnerving; it gives me too much time to think. ive been thinking of my dad a lot lately. ive been thinking of my grandmother. i am no longer surviving, so i am just thinking, and it hurts so badly. i was warned that once i left that house id start shedding layer by layer.
the first week i could hardly move. i laid in bed after work and slept until the next day. the second week i hardly showered and considered the woods behind my corporate office as a good resting place if i did the unthinkable. i woke up this week and i was somehow better. i stopped smoking. the nights spent crying were minimal. the sleeping improved. i had things i aspired towards. its slow getting to the surface, but it's so close, i can feel it.
i have wonderful health insurance due to my job and i decided to prioritize my mental and physical health now that im free to nurse myself back into a human being. i got a new psychiatrist and im being assessed for transcranial magnetic stimulation. it's for people who have OCD and major depressive disorder and don't respond to medication. sounds like rebranded shock therapy. im willing to try anything at this point.
ive also decided to try things for my physical stress symptoms, the pain, the shaking, the migraines, the dizziness, the nausea, etc. i am looking for an acupuncturist in the city as im only two train stops away from 30th street station. ive contacted a holistic doctor and a nutritionist. i meditate. i do breathing exercises. i surround myself with as much calm as possible.
ive lived in this body addled with stress since i was small. im scared ive put too much strain on myself already. last night at my dinner party, we discussed our hypothesis that stressed killed my father. he suffered a widowmaker, and we always assumed that it was due to his negligent lifestyle, but my roommate and i talked about her uncle recently passing due to one as well, and he was healthy. he had a primary doctor, he was fit, he ran, he ate well; harrowing that death comes for anyone regardless of their choices.
i slowly worked through the idea that maybe he was stressed. maybe my father was stressed. maybe stress and cortisol and adrenaline wreak havoc on these soft bodies we live inside. i was tested for cortisol at seventeen and was misdiagnosed with pcos due to my high levels. years later, after getting an ultrasound to finally address the constant pain i experience during sex and urination, they revealed that i didnt have any cysts on my ovaries. this meant that i didnt have pcos just very high cortisol floating through my body. it kind of clicked for me. i have abundant health issues and a terrible mental state and its slowly grinding my body to sawdust.
i think im finally in the place to start healing. i think i can do it. i want to see the other side. i want to replace this body and start fresh.
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Having my life is beautiful realization has truly rocked my world more than any existential crisis could. It's beautiful but it's hard doesn't cut it - it fucking sucks. It didn't occur to me to grieve the mythic dream of the grind, doing everything and anything in pursuit of goals and dreams. It would all be worth it because I would eventually reach this place in life where I'd be doing what I had always wanted and dreamed of. In fact, I poured all of my energy into loving life and wanting to stay alive because of all the things I wanted to accomplish. It was what held me down years ago, and even as things changed, that mindset never left me. Up until recently, so many of what I coined as my happiest moments of late were instances where I was making career moves that felt like progress towards lifelong dreams. The progress filled me with so much happiness. But these days, I have begun to experience these boring yet overwhelmingly cathartic things: the mundane things that aren't productive in the capitalist lens and the tiny moments that are so simple that it feels silly to explain why it demonstrates the inherent beauty of life. And as I begin to find joy in other things, I am confronted with the fact that I haven't reconciled old wounds of wanting to stick around to just be. I only know how to stick around because I'm busy pursuing a dream. I don't know how to want to live because I like life. Not only an I grieving an idealized version of what finding happiness looks like, I am also grieving my survival tactic that held my hand for years and years. Sticking around just a little longer because I'm looking forward to something in the future; clinging onto a tiny stubborn spark of hope that casts a tiny shadow even during the worst of times. And most of all, I'm struggling to reconcile new ways of being and new reasonings for staying alive. As much as I know that I'm so much more ready than I was years ago, I didn't think I'd find myself back in the depths of rewiring my own motivation structure and even possibly contemplate the worthiness of life at all. I really never thought I'd be scared to think about anything because it's truly all that I do, but I've been down this road before and I know how easily I can get lost in the murky water and pushed out to sea. I'd spiral so fast. I think I've pushed away contemplating this for years because I figured it was just my depressive tendencies coming out during a particularly bad episode. And now I'm really fucking scared. It's different: I'm not being overridden with a deep ache in my heart when I think about it. But I'm also feeling awfully logical about it and I think that scares me in a different way, because what if I decide objectively that the cons outweigh the pros? It is after all, a world of oppressive institutions whose violent systems are consistently upheld and perpetuated. I don't know. I know I'll be fine because I'm in such a good place with my mental health after years of trial and error and learning how to keep myself alive. I have a wonderful support system and habits that keep me sane, but I'm just feeling so insanely overwhelmed because I didn't expect to find myself here. After all, who the fuck starts seeing the beauty of life and immediately gets triggered about their own mortality?
-serena
<3
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post-law school diary no. 19384
I turn twenty-six in 38 minutes.
it's wild, how every year of your twenties feels novel, somehow. your early, mid, and late-twenties begin and end so quickly, passing you by with such swiftness that you can scarcely blink as they sweep you up into their fleeting nature before setting you back down again, and before you know it, everyone around you starts getting engaged, married, having babies, and here you are, now: a lifelong dream achieved, juris doctor in hand.
it's not quite how i'd imagined it for myself, but it's precisely what i had needed—to go to school in maine for a year an make lifelong friends with whom i still speak to and love, then transfer to 'nell, grind and grind and grind and feel such intense loneliness but turn into a diamond amidst all of that pressure and pain and heartbreak, then find love and end my years in ithaca in the most hopeful, exhilarating way possible, feeling cherished all the while, then step into adulthood with the very same boy, stepping into our adulthood lives with wobbly legs, getting our bearings together
then eventually making my way to the law school across the street from where my parents had planted me, all those years ago, in the city that taught me how to walk with a purpose and to hold my head up high, demanding exactly what i deserve. i had lost my voice for a very long time but somehow found it along the way after having lost track of it even more than i had before, trying to survive in the classrooms, the doctrines that had specifically been architected for white men, making me doubt myself even despite the lifelong love and knowledge that i have of jurisprudence.
in the midst of dealing with countless mediocre men who believed their intellect superior to that of mine while their words, actions revealed otherwise and in the horror of this Court gutting our civil liberties in the most unprincipled, baseless ways possible, i find myself again, in some sick sort of way. i feel more myself than ever, more confident, more self-assured, back to when i had been six, seven years old and i felt invincible in this world, devouring books with a voracious appetite and feeding my classmates the food of my culture on all of our field trips without a single shred of embarrassment and every bit of pride.
i've noticed recently that whenever my friends talk about what type of person they envision me ending up with, they always say that it has to be someone "smart." "intellectual." and i shook my head to myself in dismay, as i cannot believe that all of my loved ones—except for my law school best friend, who'd said that he believed that i needed to end up with someone thoughtful, who anticipates my needs—would choose "smart" out of all the possible worthwhile qualities of a life partner. like dependability. kindness. an empathetic nature. and i wonder what that says about me, if i am not as empathetic or kind or loving as i am "smart" to others. and i hate that so much.
in this twenty-sixth year, i want to be kind. i want to be loving. i want to be empathetic. i don't want "smart" to be my overall descriptor—as much as my childhood self would rejoice, i have long since let go of wanting to be The Intellectual. i want to be known for being the dependable friend. the ride-or-die. the loving, caring, empathetic one, above all.
and with that, i am no longer grasping for what to do with this degree of mine. what happens will happen—all i can do is to do my best at my next place of employment, do as much as i can to give back to the community, and to just keeping moving forward, step by step, and everything else will fall into place, just as it always has.
i step into twenty-six feeling more me than i have in a long, long time. i hope to continue in my journey of rediscovering her—and i am finally at a place in my life where i will have the time and resources to be able to be the show-up-at-2-am friend, let's-go-somewhere-now, impromptu friend that i had been before life, goals, law school got in the way.
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There is a special someone, whom I care about and love with my whole heart❤️. And they mean the whole world to me. When I look into her eyes. I see the oceans reflection of a cool winter's moon. And her hugs are like the comfort of a warm blanket. She is there for me in the darkest of times, and like a light she brings me out of them. When I first met this person, I knew this person was special. I knew I wanted to be there and be her friend. Care and support this person. She was in a rough patch, and so was I. It worked out really. She wasn't looking for anything, and neither was I. But I grew from just knowing them the first few weeks to being their bestfriend, that led to wanting to know them better. And better led to more...and more and more and more!😂. Late night calls and laughs and chuckles. Miraculous conversation that always involved some sort of reference or topic relating to Batman lol. And by that point I knew. I love her🌹We ofc got together, and she made (makes) me the happiest man. She teaches me alot. About her, life, etc. I learned about the skill and precision of which she draws. How she makes every little line count. I learned about farm work, horses especially. She loves them. I was never particularly fond of them, however I do take a liking to Ms. Wendy;) This girl taught me more about myself as a man, and as a person than I ever knew beforehand. Well into this point we're knee deep in the relationship and we've survived and fought against the odds. TOGETHER. You see, she has been there for me when I've almost died, been sick as a dog, delt with immeasurable struggles and she still manages to grind away and fight every day. Even when it's hard and she is down and out. She gets the fuck back up! She smiles and the flowers bloom. Her hair falls just right in her face, so that you can see and appreciate the little tilt of her head. Her nose scrunched up one day and ever since then I've deemed it "Bunny Nose"😂 She will deny it, but she is truly the most beautiful girl I've ever seen in existence. I don't care if you disagree Tumblr, your opinion is wrong and I will invalidate you!!! Swine!!! Seeing her in my hoodies, wearing my glasses or whatever. Makes me proud, like yes. This person is mine. This person is who I'm with! Seeing her do her makeup in record time (about 15 min probably less) is impressive beyond belief! She helped me with my Michael Myers Cosplay, doing the SFX for the Shotgun Hand from kills and Ends! And she did it. WITH EASE. When she is in the kitchen, she is like a wizard. I swear I think this girl is from the Wizarding world because holy shit she can cook! The way she moves with confidence and elegance. The strength and power she conveys while also being an adorable waifu. The woman practically can man handle me if she wanted too! But she doesn't. She takes care of me. When I was in the ER with my car accident. I was scared and afraid. Alone. But when those curtains slid to the side to reveal her behind them. It was the entrance I was waiting and hoping for. She raced to edge of the Hostpital bed and hugged me. She was there for me. She IS there for me. And I am grateful for my amazing human being. Or gremlin. Waifu. Nerd. Bepis. Robin<3 So in short. There is a special someone. Whom I care alot about. And love, VERY VERY MUCH❤️ @annethewisoblivious #Iloveyou #you're my person #my moon #gahdamyouhot
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So, I've been following you since I was in law school and I was always kind of vaguely terrified/intrigued by your references to work. But now, about 1.5 years into my time at a firm, I have to ask from the bottom of my heart: how the actual fuck have you survived for this long? I'm dying. I already genuinely need to leave.
anon, this breaks my heart because i remember this feeling. there were a couple of years that were so miserable i don't know how i survived. the good news is it's been a really long time since i felt that way, so i might have some ideas about how to get through it.
and! you've caught me on a day where i am regretting the day i took the LSAT, so i might actually be in a perfect position to give some good advice because i know exactly what i did that has fucked me over this week and it is something i am usually very good at avoiding.
(before that, though, can i just say, i do not have a clue how the babies who joined firms since the pandemic started are surviving. even in teams that are trying really hard to make sure you're not forgotten, i cannot imagine how hard it is to get work, get face time, get help, get anything.)
number one absolute most important thing to surviving: get very good at saying no. i say no to everything. if i get pressed about it, i tell the person asking what i've currently got on my plate and when it's all due and then ask them if they think the time required to do the task can fit in with that. sometimes it can, sometimes it can't, and sometimes they don't take no for an answer, but it cuts down the endless influx of work to a more manageable level. as someone who is now regularly giving work to juniors because i've survived this long, my number one question to them is "what are you currently doing" and then pressing them until they disclose truly how much they've got on their plate.
the second thing is getting good at estimating how long something will take. spoilers: lawyers are fucking useless at this. this is hilarious in my line of work where time and cost estimates are often the reason the client is with us in the shit they're in. my trick is estimate high and then round up. better to be ahead of your inflated deadline than late to the one that sounded good at the time and has left you working until midnight every day for a week.
something that might be helpful, might make you cry, is that a lot of it comes down to the type of work you do and the team you're in. i work for a fantastic partner at a firm that doesn't thrive on grinding everyone into the ground. australian firms also don't have 1900 hour billable targets (we're 1600), so if you're in the US i'm so sorry about that for you / so scared of that being a thing i will hopefully be dealing with soon. the key to my success has been getting on scary big, long term disputes. we have big deadlines every few months but it's not a daily churn to get something out the door and clients aren't expecting every submission to be done in a couple of billable hours -- i've had the good fortune to have time frames of weeks and months to produce a lot of my work, which means you can schedule your life. if your team sucks or if the work isn't for you, you're still so early in your career that you can lateral transfer to somewhere else doing something else. that's scary, but there are a lot of dickheads in this profession and there's no shame in cutting your losses to find a better fit.
also, if you've been there for a year and a half and haven't taken any time off? get out of there! if you're in america i'm so sorry for your shitty leave situation, but you're also making bank, take a week off and get the fuck out of there! go lie on a beach, dude!
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Hi welcome back! God i feel that life has been wild lately so i totally understand. Oh hey no worries ive been in a boat too of like. Man i really want to do this thing but my energy just isnt there. Yikes i hope you enter a stage of having more rest time soon. 8 exams? What the hell thats too many. Baking is a fun hobby i love to partake in that one myself. I like to make sweet breads & such. & its good to have a hobby to like. Pull yourself out of your head when stuff like school gets to be too much. Having to exist in public unfortunately means people will sometimes try to talk to you when you just. Want to go about your day. That is surprising but i also went to school with mostly a bunch of pricks who were awful people so. Had to look up what gran canaria is but it sounds like a nice place id love to visit sometime. Clearly schools work on fae rules. I will save for ruan mei i swear. After i pull archeron. I got black swan with the free pulls i had saved so im hoping to nab archeron. I instantly fell in love with her. Very nice clara supremacy she is so good. One day ill have her on main. I think i stopped at tb 60 so i can work on a few characters but the artifact grind hates me. Oh that sounds real interesting i cant wait to see it play out i just finished the bit where cocolia turned bronya & took the one herrscher at uh. Ch 3 end? Oh i know that one! Catarina my beloved she's so stupid i love her. Easily one of the best protags in recent memory. Dunmeshi is real good so far ive been enjoying it & seeing my girl marcille animated is everything i hoped for. Love my favorite fail girl elf. Im caught up on penacony & still dont understand the racist sparkle thing. Might be i wasnt fully paying attention at the time though. Seele confirmed for best girl by all herscherrs. Oh she must have a good amount of lore im excited to read that. Oh so thats what that means okay. Kinda love that it sounds fun. & more good natured than when people here say that about america. Good luck on surviving i believe in you!
HI THANK YOU!!!! god it really has. and the weather here has been so gloomy recently that i have no energy to do anything even if i have the time. the horrors are endless but we stay silly. and thankies once again!!! i MIRACULOUSLY managed to not fail anything so were all good. unfortunately this month is also already packed but luckily its stuff i more or less either know [polish] or like [geography]. and two of the teachers i disliked got fired AJDKFJG. history guy for offering to raise students' grades if they go around spreading konfederacja [a polish extremely far-right party] flyers and that math teacher who couldnt count for saying hitler was a good person. just another day in a polish school, i guess. but both of our replacement teachers are very cool so we're so back. god yeah totally!!! not only do i have something to do for a while but i ALSO get to eat at the end. literally a win/win situation. yeah that Is annoying but as i mentioned its luckily not as common over here.... and ouhggh pain. gran canaria is VERY beautiful but id also like to visit the other canary islands someday...... the carnival on tenerife is one of the, if not the biggest, ones in spain so thatd be fun to see as well. i only missed the celebrations on gran canaria by one day which was quite annoying but oh well. GOD YEAH. im still convinced School Air is a thing bc i simply cannot explain so many things without that assumption. GOOD LUCK WITH BOTH RUAN MEI AND ACHERON!!! im also saving for acheron hehehehe. strange woman and a mei expy so shes a must pull. and also congrats on the black swan!!!! i agree clara is just. cracked. she has carried me through this game and she continues to do so. tho sim uni gold and gears is kinda beating my ass ngl. since i only have the nodes that require full cognition range left to do. oh absolutely fair, i did that for a while and rn am doing the same but with tl 65. but i DID manage to finallyyyyyy max out wolfie's skills the other day so thats done. i do want to get one better artifact for her but i have chars im prioritizing a bit more. and same the artifact grind hates everyone i think. planar ornaments are much easier to grind imo or at least I Personally have much better luck with them than with cavern of corrosion stuff. but that may also be because i genuinely enjoy doing sim uni so it doesnt feel like as much as a chore as coc. AND OH HAVE FUN THEN!!!! the wendy arc, ironically, is the event that kinda butterfly effect causes Literally The Whole game. CATARINA IS VERY FUN YEAH i look forward to finally continuing that.... and dunmesh as well......... oh and with the sparkle thing afaik its much more prominent in the chinese version because. now dont quote me on this because I Do Not Speak Chinese but i have heard that when talking to aventurine, she uses an Actual Chinese Slur Against Romani People. which. not cool. but yeah its somewhat of a strange issue and ive seen a lot of different opinions from both sides so tbh idk where i stand on the whole thing. SEELE 🔛🔝!!! and dw im Working on the summary but ive also realized how much time its gonna take me to write down All Of That so please give me some time i promise ill get it done asap but ah. and yeah its very fun!! i generally feel like a lot of polish humor [ESPECIALLY online but irl as well] isnt quite as. Patriotic as that of the us. but to each their own adjfkjs. AND THANK YOU o7!!!!
#i also just lost an 11h long noita run yesterday which was. painful.#but ive been having more fun than i thought i would with honkai part 2#asks#pen pals
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The Struggle of Getting Back into Fiction Writing After ASD Self-diagnoses and Chronic Burnout.
Last year, I set aside writing Fantasy novels and focused on creating a gaming channel and figuring my life out after so many tumbling years of different things that happened in my life. Mental and physical health was and still is a huge contributor. But mainly, I ended up stumbling upon an issue that has plagued me since childhood, and that was, "Why am I so different from a lot of people I've met in my life? Why are certain tasks so difficult for me? Why doesn't it seem to improve? Why am I so anxious all the time? Why can't I focus? Why do I always get overwhelmed by minor issues, yet when major crises occur, I'm calm as hell?
It's obvious now I'm not neuro-typical. However, how far along the spectrum am I? Well, when I did a lot of research in a matter of days, I had a massive awakening to how different my mind is. Even though it was next to impossible to get a legit diagnosis, the self-diagnoses were enough for me to reevaluate my life. It has been a mourning process. Why? All my life, I was judged and even reprimanded for things that actually helped me cope with my already unhealthy environment. It turns out a lot of women are getting late diagnoses.
People assume that ADHD or ASD is on the rise because of ridiculous reasons, treating it like a plague that arose in our unholy modern society, but I really believe it has always been around. There's a whole issue in the first place of the studies done and on who to determine how to diagnose these conditions. ***cough...rich white boys*** But I won't dive into that.
So, girls like me...well... I'm a woman in my late 30s; back in the day, I was taught to act a certain way. Basically, pull off the performance of a lifetime. Try to lie, put on a fake smile or face, and not say certain things. I was told to not discuss specific topics and to walk on eggshells around dangerous people. Pretty much I was taught to become a submissive person, not to be outspoken, and to please people. I was taught to take abuse from employers and to just shuddup and work hard. This is how we survive. It would be nice to set boundaries, but I know first-hand that in a society with no social safety nets or power over policy, it's just being a fool in a lion's den. Therefore, this plays out even in my writing. I held back on my thoughts and true emotions. Even being open about my sexuality and me as a person was difficult. And when I did pursue my crazy, exhausting endeavor in writing and hiding behind a fake name, I let loose. I wrote some naughty, insane trash. This is on top of everything else I had obligations to in my life. Like working a legit job that was slowly breaking my body so I wouldn't starve or at least obtain a little bit of agency.
I used a lot of energy that I didn't have. That horrible Western hustle-grind mindset broke my mind. It's really not meant for me. I developed a speech impairment from it because I don't talk as coherently as I used to. Then, I learned burnout and grief can contribute to that, too. It also made me a bit more cynical than usual, and I'm spewing satire more than ever. But I've already accepted if my speech doesn't improve that, the damage is done; I'll just live with it.
This doesn't mean I won't pursue life to its fullest. Now, I have to be mindful of the output I do because my health got impacted in a way that it possibly won't ever heal or return to its original flavor of talking juicy. Maybe that's a good thing. I won't woo anyone with my voice anymore, like the snake charmer my supervisors used to call me. To think, if I use that to my advantage to never be summoned again to talk down an aggressive, abusive customer with no dang manners or morals. I don't have to listen to people venting their crap anymore when they should be paying to see a therapist. If they do have a therapist, they need to fire their ass and find a new one. End of story.
The moral of the story is I'm taking my time with getting back into my writing groove, and I'm managing my health as a self-diagnosed person on the spectrum. I'm giving myself grace. Now, I'm a changed human being with a new heart and mind to write more meaningful stories and not focus on being naughty as hell because I was oppressed for so dang long.
Dear readers, if you survived this blog and all my ranting. Thank you. Have a wonderful day, afternoon, or evening.
#personal rant#personal thoughts#personal blog#mental health awareness#health issues#burnout#neurodivergent#autism acceptance#adhd#auadhd#satire#darkhumor#lgbtq
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Yoohoo~ miss me? *winks at you with both eyes bcuz clumsy rizz*
Jdjdjsjdjd how r u spirit cousin!!!! Michikinonn returns once again!!!
amazing!! Fontaine is here!?!?!??! I'm very,,, hxjdjsj very okay about this fact (no I am not. AAAAAAAAAA)
I've been lurking about on ur blog and I missed it sm?!?! I ADORE ur theme!!! It speaks to me !!
Summer is bleaugh because I felt so dry ,,, the heat is not good for moi!! No no no absolutely not!!
enough about me,,, how has your life been? See new things? Dream new dreams??
Jdjdjdjdj so glad to be back among friends. Love you!!
michikinonn!!
michikinon, hii!! dw about tripping on your knees because i'd like to think my abode is made out of fluffy clouds. (/lh) kaveh can fall together with you 🤭 always happy to see my cousin in spirit returns!! i'm doing quite well, grinding thru fontaine has been pleasant and nice. i love the scenery and terrains sm <3
THANK YOU!! layla's aesthetic >>> and she provides good cryo application + shield for when my angry wanderer goes absolute ham on mobs 🥰 altho, lately.... i've been having thoughts on a lyney theme and i'm trying my best. to. hold it off. as best as i can — but but but pretty fontaine magician guy is mMMMmM (help me).
me too, michi, me too. autumn is 🔛🔝 for me because summer = lots of sweat and i hate sweating. i'll plop in front of the fan for the rest of the day 🥱 i hope you have ways to survive summer tho <3 try your best not to melt, cousin!! 🫂
#i'm still the same old me ;D#are you and your brother enjoying fontaine good?? <3#ask box! 📬#visitor: dearest michiki anon! 🧺
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it’s about the little joys amidst the grind for survival
#my art#hornet#hollow knight#*crawls out of a gutter covered in wet leaves* sup.#i've been slowly poking at asks but it gets frustrating to have so little time to draw so i wanted to make something really quick..!#my life lately has been about the grind for survival /_\#onset of cold season means i won't be warm again for several months and i'll be usually tired and hungry#isn't it fascinating how the body responds to seasons? idk if it's from less sun or higher caloric demands from heating the body#POV you are biking to work in a downpour. it's before sunrise and cars' headlights are reflecting off the rain on your glasses#you cannot fucking see and there are branches all over the sidewalk from the wind which is strong enough to shove you around#only reason I never fell is because i've been cautious after a recent bad crash.#well now i have a raincoat and learned the lesson to bring spare pants when it's raining and i can move my knee again. luxury!#how does everyone else just keep going when it gets dark and cold all the time. i feel like a bear that should be hibernating.#can't wait to go apeass crazy during the thaw. sprint until i collapse the moment i feel a warm breeze. makes winter worth it#real self-care is using what little energy you have at the end of the day to make a meal big enough to provide several days of leftovers#*throws eggs into the rice* please you need protein for tomorrow i love you. eat well and be strong!#been falling into the habit of skipping meals because i'm too tired to cook and eat. thank you me of yesterday for not being selfish :]#I have a hot tip! if you boil a vegetable; retain the water and freeze it.#last month's accidental yam stock was this week's risotto base#don't you dare discard nutrients and flavors. you need those. they are so scarce and precious.#anyway. don't get lost in the struggle. squeeze in some art and get that creative juice out of your system.#personally i am excited for hornet to explore the arts :]#oh at least autumn is beautiful. but I moved to a place with less nature..#didn't realize how important it is to me to have large stretches of woodland. I miss my free ranging territory! suffocating in the suburbs!#well now i go to get not enough sleep. nighty night.#(huh? it's almost halloween? since when??)
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