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lisenberry · 9 months ago

Text

We drift in and out

Chapter 3: Did I find you, or you find me?

E/NSFW/MDNI

CW: Consensual Somno, Light Breeding, Canon-Typical Violence, Angst

6k (I know, I went nuts)

10k (COMPLETE!) Just kidding...

This whole fic started with one picture of a man with hairy arms holding a baby. Everything that came after was a fever dream.

Ch. 1 , Ch. 2, Ch.4 AO3

You had one last night together. Eighteen short hours before a black Land Rover would pick him up and take him away. Off to catch a plane to some forward operating base in a remote, foreign place.

He’d been home with you for four months, by far his longest leave yet. With each day, you’d gotten more comfortable, wondering if maybe he’d become permanent. That instead of just playing house, you were living something real. Building something special together.

That your plans could change, and you could let the fearful part of you rest. That doubtful voice that kept you always prepared. Always on. The survival mode that kept you moving forward but also stopped you from slowing down long enough to breathe. To enjoy.

It was a skill that benefited you in your work. The single-minded attention to detail and success. And when you’d learned you were pregnant, it had kept you from giving into the panic of the unknown. But once she was born, you didn’t have a choice, but to sit with it all. The joy, and the exhaustion. Slow, blissful days had become your routine.

Now you were facing the plan again. The one he wasn’t in. You’d survive, of course, but the bleakness of it cut like a wound. You should’ve known nothing so perfect could last forever. Maybe you did know, deep down. Maybe he did, too, and that’s why you kept each other just a bit out of reach.

But you still had a little more time. A few more memories to make before it came to an uncertain end.

You popped out to Marks & Sparks for supplies to make dinner. It had become a little holiday for you in the last few months. He’d stay home with the baby, and you’d put on real clothes and do your hair and escape for a few hours to squeeze the fruits and smell the cheeses. Go aisle by aisle and daydream about new recipes to try.

Not this time. This time you hurried through as fast as you could. Wasted not a minute as you snatched up everything on your list and rushed to get back to them.

They weren’t in your apartment when got home, so you crossed the hall and knocked on the door to his.

“It’s open!” His voice rang from inside, as you tried the knob and walked in.

He had the baby’s highchair in the kitchen, and the dining room table set with fine china and candles. Music crooned from some hidden speaker, something classical you’d never heard before.

“What’s all this?” You asked, as you set down the bags of groceries on his counter.

“I thought we could eat out tonight. Something different.” He stood with his hands at his hips, and a burp cloth strung over his shoulder. A scheming smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes. They didn’t crinkle at the edges the same way you’d gotten used to.

“You’re okay with me making a mess of your kitchen?” You teased. “You know I’ll use every pan and utensil at my disposal.”

Your place was lovely, but his side of the building had twice the space, and a balcony that overlooked Hyde Park. During the few times you visited, it had felt like stepping into a different world. Like a fancy hotel suite in a far-off country, in the way that it had visitors but never really felt lived in. Sanitized into a blank slate, adaptable to anyone who crossed the threshold in search of an escape from their mundane reality.

Or like a museum, it was a place that existed outside of time.

“You cook, I’ll clean up.” He leaned his hips back against the granite and opened his arms to it welcomingly.

It made sense that he’d want to spend his last night in his own home. His own bed.

“Suit yourself,” you plopped a smacking kiss on the baby’s downy head as she sat contentedly in her chair, chewing on a colorful toy.

When you turned your attention back to him, he waited patiently for his greeting. The longing with which he first looked at you and your daughter the day you’d come home was back again. It had seemed like the start of something then.

This time it felt like the end, as you pulled up on your tip toes and pressed a kiss to his lips. Short and sweet. If you hooked your arms around his neck and buried your face in his neck, like every corner of your soul was aching to do, you’d never let go.

The food would rot on the counter and the hard things would never get done.

So, you settled back down and unpacked the bags in front of you.

“Will you pick the wine? I’m making your favorite.”

In lifetimes past, you would’ve dressed up and gone to The Midland in King’s Cross for dinner. Fed each other oysters and champagne. Danced until the early hours of the morning and crashed wildly into bed. Shared a cigar afterwards, naked but for the shelter of each other’s arms.

This time, you made roast beef with fingerling potatoes, minty peas, and glazed carrots. Topped with gravy and with a side of Yorkshire pudding to sop it all up.

It’d be some time before the baby could join in on the feast, but she flailed with enthusiasm at the smells and the excitement with which the two of you ate. Oblivious to how much her lukewarm cereal and the bottle that she could now almost hold on her own paled in comparison.

In place of a West End show, there were airplane spoons and milky sneezes to keep you laughing. Something to focus on besides the future. Besides each other.

The chasm that was too deep and too far to cross, let alone name.

As if on cue, with the last sip of wine, she started to fuss. Fisted her eyes and arched her back in surrender as John rose to soothe her. You’d have many more nights to put her to bed, but who knew what awaited him. You gave him the time alone as you collected the place settings and started the cleaning that he’d promised you.

The little one sighed so heavily against his chest as she curled into him, burying her fingers in his shirt. You knew the feeling, ached for it as you silently cursed your ability to dirty so many dishes making a meal.

He was gone long enough for you to handwash the china and fill the dishwasher, and you wondered if she fought sleep, or if he simply lingered a little longer. Did he tell her a story, or share some secret that was just between them?

The polished wood floorboards creaked under his weight when he finally returned to the kitchen. There was a stiffness to his towering form, as if he was flexing under an invisible weight.

“Just in time. Everything’s already done,” you chided, gently, as you dried your hands on a towel.

“I set her up in the portable crib with the monitor. In the bedroom next to mine.”

“Her first sleepover.” You still couldn’t look at him. You hadn’t yet, had you? Not really. Not since he got the call earlier that day.

Since you’d told him he was never meant to be a part of your life. That you could live without him.

A lie that he’d surely seen through, but you needed to keep for yourself as you busied your hands and kept your back to him.

But he wouldn’t let you hide, as he stepped behind you and pulled you in.

“Don’t pull away. Please. Not yet.” He tucked his grizzled chin into the curve of your neck.

“I’m trying.” You let your head fall back against him, vaguely aware that the music was still playing. Something sad and slow as you swayed to the beat of it.

His hands rested on your hips as he spun you around to face him. If a kiss could fix everything, you gave it to him then. Did your best as you fisted his hair and pulled him down to you, while his palms roamed lower to cup your ass and lift you onto the counter.

Like meat and wine, you savored his lips and his tongue as he delved even deeper. Splitting you open and demanding more. Demanding everything.

Your shirt was over your head and his roughened fingers scratched along the skin of your back, massaging and kneading the sides of your spine while he unhooked your bra. The same muscles you’d kept rigid all day he coaxed into pliancy with each stroke as a weak moan slipped past your lips.

“That’s a girl. Be soft and sweet for me, will you?” He started off slow at the tip of your ear, trailing light, tickling kisses down the shell and to where the lobe met your neck.

It sent shivers down your arms, and your naked breasts budded to peaks as they grazed against the cool smoothness of his shirt. You didn’t want cool, or smooth, just heat and texture as you pulled it off his shoulders and wrapped your legs around his hips.

He groaned at the contact, a fierce and hungry sound as he took one of your hands and slotted it between you. Pressed your palm against the bulge in his pants and grinded against it, letting you feel the way it grew and hardened at your touch.

“Tell me you’ll miss me. Fucking lie to me, just say it,” he grated out, against your collarbone. Miss him? Lie to him? It would be a lie to say you wouldn’t. “I need to hear you to say it.”

“I miss you already,” you whined, as you slid your hands from his groin to his ass and anchored him closer to the dampening heat at your core.

“I’m right here.”

“Then take me to bed. And show me how much you’ll miss me.” It was your turn to grind against him, rubbing the bud of your arousal greedily along the lip of his fly through your thin linen pants as your tits bobbed wantonly against his furry chest.

“Not going to last long if you keep doing that, love,” he growled, lifting you up again and carrying you down the hallway. “I’d rather take my time.”

And he did, starting with his fingers, then his mouth. Drawing out each sensation like he was mapping the stars. Exploring the far reaches of your body and forging new paths until you were shaking and spent.

You marked him in return. Staked a claim on the meat of his pec with a dark red love bite as he came hard and hot inside your pulsating quim. Filled you up with a contented smile on his face, as if there was no better feeling in the world. No place he’d rather be.

“Be back before it fades, okay?” You nuzzled the hair around the spot with your nose as you drifted off beside him, his fingers lazily circling your hole to push the leaky drops of his seed back in.

Did he have hopes that it would take?

Did you?

Later, a strangled sound, like a wounded animal woke you from a fitful sleep. At some point, you must’ve turned to your side and faced away from him because he was behind you. Pulling at your hips and burying his head between your shoulder blades.

“John? What is it?”

“Just a dream. A bad dream.”

You felt the swell of his cock as he sought out the smooth shelter between your thighs. Arching against him instinctively, you curved onto your back and parted your legs as he absently rutted around to find your opening. Still brimming with the sticky spend from your last bout.

He’d always been a giver, but this one was just for him as he worked out his nightmare on your flesh, your insides, your soul. It felt like a battle. A whole damn war as he smothered you with his heavy, dead-weight body and took ground, pounding away at your sensitive, stimulated cunt.

You wondered if he was even awake, or if he was still in the dream, as he fucked into you roughly and muttered far away words. Bit back his own tears as they mixed with the sweat on your skin.

“Mine...Fucking mine...Not letting you go...Not to anyone else...”

Deprived of oxygen from his bulk on your chest, you almost blacked out with the force of your climax, caught by surprise at the way the mound of hair at his base aroused your clit into bloom with each thrust. A tenderness amidst the brutal onslaught. A divine mercy.

If you had air, you’d have screamed at the intensity of it. Spotty flashes of light broke the darkness as you felt the last of your spurting aftershocks flutter around him, soaking you both and easing the incinerating friction from the stretch of him.

You could only clench your teeth and your walls as he shuddered with the strength of his own fresh release. With his face buried in your shoulder, you knew he didn’t smile this time. The sorrow of it hit you like a blow to your heart as you felt him stiffen with awareness, the fog of sleep clearing from his consciousness.

“I’m yours. There’s no one else, John,” you panted, begged, as he eased up onto to his elbows to give you enough space to take a breath. “Only you.”

********

Before you knew it, the black Land Rover was waiting like a harbinger along the street below.

“Here’s the keys to the truck, and to my place. Just in case.” He tossed a set into the bowl you kept on the sideboard. “I know how much you’re dying to go spying in my cupboards.” He raised a amused eyebrow to match the gentle hitch in his mustache.

“I wouldn’t do that.” Except you totally would. At the first opportunity.

“Afraid of what you’ll find?”

“An expired box of Earl Grey in the kitchen, perfectly sorted socks in the bedroom. Stinky smelling beard oil in the bathroom.” You flashed a cheeky grin at the last, in an effort to keep the tone light.

If he could be strong, so could you. You wouldn’t be the one to break. No matter what you felt like on the inside. You’d save it for when he was gone.

“Beard oil? This is all natural.” As if you’d insulted his manhood, he smoothed his mustache down with two hands, in a way you’d seen him do a thousand times. He’d trained any willfulness from his facial hair with nothing but nose grease and perseverance. Molded by time and patience, like marble cliffs and silt-shined creek beds.

“But I was right about the socks though, wasn’t I?”

“And the tea.” He hitched his mouth into a smile and turned his focus to the gurgling baby perched on his hip, yapping and cooing like she was in on the conversation.

The way he looked at her gave you hope that he’d call it all off. He’d sit back down on the couch and turn on the football. Put his heavy feet up on your table and let his flight leave without him.

“I’m sure we can find some priceless antiques in there she can teeth on.” They would start coming in soon. Another change he’d miss.

“Look, you don’t have to wait.” He paused to clear the words he was looking for from his throat. “I understand if you—”

“I just got you, John,” you cut him off, saving him from the self-sacrificing speech, and looked down at her chubby fist wrapped in a white-knuckle grip around his finger. “You’re not getting rid of us yet.”

Don’t let go, sweetheart. Don’t let him go. You willed it into her with your own thoughts.

Your world had gotten so small since she was born. You’d gone from having a job that needed you, coworkers and clients with a network of responsibilities, down to having just one job.

One person who needed you.

But it would’ve been a lot smaller without him. How lonely would you have been without someone to share it all with? How much of him had seeped into your life, and your heart?

“Be nice to your mum,” he whispered against her soft head, as he kissed her cheek and passed her back to you quickly. Looking everywhere but at you. “You have Kate’s number? In case you need anything?”

You pulled him closer with your free hand to his waist, forcing him to see you. Eyes wide and blue, he looked scared. For the first time.

Anything more than a kiss to the forehead would have broken you both. You’d already said your goodbyes the night before, and again that morning. So, you simply tilted your head up to him, your own eyes kind and trusting, and felt his beard graze your skin one last time.

And then you watched him go.

********

By the third week, nothing in your apartment smelled like him anymore. Everything had been washed, and the windows had been left open too long to let in the cool fall breeze. Looking around, you realized that nothing in your home was his.

He’d come through your life with a force and left no trace behind, as if he was never even there. It wasn’t right. You wished with renewed clarity that you’d taken more pictures of him. That you’d recorded every moment.

Something to show your daughter, someday, if she ever questioned whether or not she was loved. Something you could show yourself, when your mind tricked you into believing it was just a dream.

It was the need to seek out that connection, that comfort, that had you unlocking the door to his flat and letting yourself inside. It was dark, and too quiet. Cold and cavernous, like he was the one who heated it and gave it light.

With the baby bouncing on your hip, you explored from room to room. Three bedrooms and four bathrooms. And still, you couldn’t find a trace of him anywhere there either.

His sheets had been washed since you’d spent the night. His bathroom scrubbed of any lingering soap by the cleaning company that came once a month to keep it free of dust and spiders while he was away.

Trapped in time until the next visitor passed through.

Your grief and frustration sprung anew as you moved into his office. Surely it would have something. The indent of his body in a leather seat, or the half-burnt end of a forgotten cigar.

But his chair was too firm to leave a crease, and his ashtray was clean.

There were no medals or honors hung along the walls, and the top of his desk was empty, except for one framed photo. It was exactly what you were looking for, but at the same time, something you never expected.

It was from four years before, when he’d talked you into running a marathon together for a charity for wounded veterans. You remembered the day clearly but never knew someone had taken a picture. It must’ve been at the end, because you were both dewy-faced and soaked in sweat, smiling like mad.

His arm was around your shoulder and yours was at his waist. You looked like a couple. Like you were in love. Was that how you always looked when you were together?

Was this what you’d been missing out on all this time?

Surely, there were others. You’d open a drawer and find photos of him with other people. His parents, his friends. Other women.

But as you pulled them apart one by one, you only found files of old bank statements and tax forms. Until you got to the bottom. A lone manila envelope, padded and thick.

With your name written in the wonky, hurried strokes of his hand.

Your own hands shook as you turned it over to find it sealed. He must’ve wanted you to see what was inside, or else it wouldn’t have your name on it.

Right?

It felt like paper, documents of some kind, but with something else to give it bulk. You shouldn’t have seen it, shouldn’t have gone digging through his stuff. But he’d known you were going to snoop. Had practically dared you to, didn’t he?

You tucked it back in where you’d found it. Whatever it was, he could give it to you when he came back. You’d promised him that you’d wait, and you would.

However long it took.

Just as you shut the drawer, your phone began to buzz in your pocket, jolting you guiltily as if you’d been caught. You took it out, expecting it to be just another spam call, but paused in immediate horror at the name across the screen.

(John’s) Kate

He’d saved the contact in your phone in case you needed to get in touch with him. You couldn’t think of a situation where you’d be justified in pulling his attention away from a job, but you could only think of one reason she’d be calling you.

“Hello,” you answered.

*******

Two hours later, your apartment was full. Well, there were only four guests gathered around your coffee table and perched with varying degrees of curiosity and tension along your couch and side chairs, but it felt overcrowded considering their size.

Three men that you’d never seen before, and then there was Kate. Somehow, she took up just as much space as they did. She carried herself with an air of authority that made your spine straighten reflexively.

“He didn’t tell us he had a family.” The clean cut one in the ball cap, who’d introduced himself as Kyle, spoke first as you poured him a cup of tea. “We all wanted to express our support in person.”

“There wasn’t much to tell until recently,” you smiled, slightly, trying to be a good hostess despite the circumstances.

“You’ve been his emergency contact for the last five years,” Kate added as she declined your offer of milk and sugar.

“I didn’t know that.” That was as long as you’d known each other. Did he really not have anyone else?

“He’s a very private man.” She did you the favor of talking about him as if he wasn’t gone. As if there was still hope.

“How did you know about it?” MacTavish, the stocky Scot with the close-cut mohawk intoned back to her, with a bristling hostility you couldn’t miss.

“I’m CIA. It’s my job to know everyone’s secrets.”

You thought maybe she was trying to make a joke, but her face was dead serious.

“We never would have let him—” He looked regretfully from you to your baby as the blond one with the black surgical mask cut him off with a supportive hand to his knee.

“Have any of you ever successfully talked him out of something once he’d put his mind to it?” You looked around at the faces of the men staring back at you. The people he spent all his time with when he wasn’t with you. “I’m sure that’s why he didn’t tell you. Afraid you’d treat him differently if he was a real person.”

Perhaps for the same reason he’d never told you how he felt. Afraid to make it something real. Something it would hurt to lose.

“Why don’t you tell me what happened, please,” you continued, bracing for the worst.

“A massive fuck up from the beginning, is what it was—” Kyle interjected, heatedly, before he was interrupted by a pointed look from Kate.

“It’s mostly classified, of course. So, we can’t go into details. But John requested an indefinite leave of absence about four months ago. In the interim, his team was assigned to assist another task force in a sensitive operation.” She spoke evenly as if reciting a sequence of events before a committee.

And you listened, all the while searching for the bits she left unsaid. The parts that she hid behind her narrative.

Phrases like, ‘severe loss of life’, ‘pinned down in hostile territory’, and ‘unable to ascertain status’, were cold, calculated ways of saying something went horribly wrong.

You weren’t a naïve civilian who devoured sound bites at face value. You worked with government contracts all the time. American, British. They were all the same. ‘Cover your ass,’ was their collective motto.

When she finished, you had more questions than answers. But one thing stood out in your mind. He hadn’t been home for so long by accident. He’d chosen to stay. He’d given up his team, indefinitely, to be with you.

“So, if I understand correctly, it was a massive fuck up. You him called away, despite his clear wishes to be left alone, to save your ass and theirs.” You turned your attention from Kate over to the team. “And he got you out. And you left him behind?”

He’d quit for you. But he’d gone back for them.

“Not willingly.” The one in the mask, Lieutenant Riley, spoke up for the first time. His eerily dark eyes shot daggers at Kate, as if the fault was hers.

“He knew what he was doing. We needed to reassess the objective and regroup. And I’m available to discuss it at length with you another time, Lieutenant.”

“We know he’s alive.” MacTavish reassured you. “If he was dead, they’d be broadcasting his body and celebrating all over the dark web.”

Oh, what a relief. The visual turned up bile your throat.

“And if he’s been taken prisoner or something?”

“He’s an exceptionally valuable hostage. We’ll have a few weeks at least, while they interrogate him, before he’s ransomed.”

Tortured, she meant. The bile turned to acid, and you forced yourself not to be sick.

“So, what now?” You were in a daze. Kate’s firm, rational, voice grounded you and kept you present when all you wanted to do was breakdown. To scream and cry and pound your fists against their chests to get back out there and find him.

Her position demanded it, you imagined. Judging by the tension flowing between the team, they ached to do just that. It was as if they were held back by some invisible muzzle. Reined in by years of service. One strong woman was all that kept them from charging off to take matters into their own hands.

“We’ll keep you updated as soon as we have news,” Kate answered, softer than before. Perhaps aware that her words alone held little comfort. That they were as grim as hollow condolences. “But here, standard protocol. We had it stripped of anything sensitive. There’s only a few pictures and text messages left. It’s unlocked.”

She handed you his battered old phone. The screen was scratched up, and the case was cracked enough to be useless protection. You didn’t think they even supported this model anymore. You couldn’t help but smile when you saw it.

‘It’s busted to bloody hell, but still hanging on’, he’d said about it once with a proud laugh. You prayed that he was the same, wherever he was.

“Thank you. It was nice to meet you all,” you replied, politely, suddenly anxious to be alone. To fall apart in peace. “I wish it was under better circumstances. Maybe next time we can have a drink and a proper laugh. When he’s home.”

“We’ll get him back, Mrs. Price.” It was Kyle who pulled you into a hug, as if you were family. “I promise.”

It was the first time anyone had called you that, and you didn’t correct him. In the moment, it was a comfort. A universal truth that you longed to hear from someone else’s lips.

The others followed suit with their goodbyes, but their warmth and concern were a shallow replacement for the man you were missing. Kate settled for a stoic handshake before you closed the door on them all and set your back against it for support.

The phone in your hand was heavy as you pulled it up to see his text messages, looking for any possible clue or something to keep hope alive. There were a few off color jokes between him and his mates. Notes to you about what was for dinner, and silly photos he’d taken of the baby.

One single text exchange with Kate. As if he’d deleted them as soon as they came in. Or perhaps Kate had wiped them as part of her pruning. It was from four months prior.

I hope you know what you’re doing.

Never more certain in my life.

Were they talking about you? Of his choice to leave? It reminded you of something else he’d left behind. Something you’d forgotten in the whirlwind of the last few hours.

When you held the envelope again in your hands, you didn’t think twice about ripping through the seal. Inside was a stack of handwritten letters, all dated and signed with his name.

You focused on the one on top, from the day before he’d left.

Hey love,

If you’re reading this, then something must’ve happened to me. Or your curious nature got the best of you, and you went snooping around my desk.

I hope it’s the latter because it’s time you knew, and who knows when I’ll get the courage to tell you myself. But if it’s the former, then I’m sorry.

I can’t say I’m surprised, though. There’s only so many times I can dare death to find me before it wins. You just have to know that I did my best, for whatever it’s worth.

I never felt like I could have a family. I didn’t deserve that sort of peace after the things I’ve done. I’ve taken too many lives to have any chance at a happy one. Killed too many sons to be entitled to any of my own.

It’s been my purpose. What I’m good at. And I never wanted to bring that burden home to anyone else.

Then I saw you again after I made myself a promise to stay away from you this time. You were so fearless and calm. I just wanted to be near you. Close enough that you might scare away the darkness in me.

If someone like you, and her, could trust me and see any good in me, then maybe I’m not such a monster after all.

You made me believe in fate. In something bigger that was beyond my control. I just hope that it’s not done with me yet. That it’s not done with us.

If this is the end, then I just want to say thank you and leave you with everything. Everything that I have, and everything that I left unsaid.

These letters are from all the other times I’ve done this. The other missions that called me away since we met, in the event that I didn’t come back. You were the only thing worth coming home to, and I’m sorry I didn’t share them sooner.

If you’re just being nosy, and I’m already warm in our bed with the baby drooling on my chest, I hope I’ve already told you a thousand times how much I love you. How lucky I am to have known your love in return.

And I hope you’re already wearing one of these rings. I couldn’t decide which one, so I’ll let you choose. They’ve been in my family for ages. All yours now.

All my heart, John.

The pages were flooded with salty tears by the time the jingle at the bottom of the envelope caught your attention. Five different rings. Yellow and white gold, glistening diamonds, emeralds, and sapphires. Old and new.

But not yet. You didn’t dare to touch them yet. Didn’t choose. You believed in fate, too. He wasn’t gone, and it wasn’t the end.

*******

The next days passed by in a blur, waiting by the phone. You were thankful for the baby, as she didn’t let you wallow or crumble the way you wanted to. There were still diapers to change, and bottles to fill. Smiles to fake and colic to soothe.

You wondered if she missed him, too. If she even noticed he was gone.

It was three in the morning when you got the call, and you shot up in bed, sleep quickly forgotten when you answered. You didn’t even bother to look at the caller ID.

“John!”

“Hiya, darling.” His voice was a faint groan of relief.

“Where are you?” You held the phone away from your face just long enough to see the long, foreign number with a country code you couldn’t place. “Does Kate know where you are?”

“I don’t have a lot of time. I’m in the blind. I just wanted to hear your voice.”

You flung off your covers and rushed to your computer. He was in trouble.

“I’m here. Are you hurt?”

“Not bad.” You could hear him smiling, the way the words huffed out through pained lips. It was definitely bad.

You had to keep him talking, to stay on the line long enough for you to work. The laptop took forever to start up. You hadn’t used it since you’d left your employment, and it must’ve needed a hundred updates. But you didn’t have time as your fingers trembled anxiously over the keys.

This was what you did. This was your job. You designed software that could find people. Find targets. Needles in the giant haystack that was the world.

You set the phone to speaker mode and plugged it in to your program.

“Whose phone is this, John?” It would be encrypted, you presumed. You wouldn’t be lucky enough to have its location turned on.

“An old friend. I’d put him on, but he’s not with us anymore, I’m afraid. Poor fellow took a fall.” Another gurgled laugh. “But his name was Makarov. When you talk to Kate, tell her the mission’s complete.”

“You can tell her yourself. You’re going to be fine. Just keep talking to me.”

You buzzed through lines of code, searching for the one you needed.

“How’s the poppet? Is she being a good girl?”

“She’s sleeping. She’s okay. Misses you. Can’t wait to see you.”

Got it! You broke through the encryption and pinned his location using satellite GPS.

“It’s not looking good, love.”

“Do you believe in fate, John?” You asked, as you used your laptop’s connection to call Kate.

There was a reason you’d met each other. You were certain now that nothing had been by chance. You were meant to find him. You were meant to find each other.

“Ah, went pawing through my drawers, did you? Which ring did you pick?”

“I’ll show you when you get home,” you promised as the line finally connected. “Kate! I know where John is. You have to hurry.”

You sent her the coordinates to the exact centimeter. He was deep underground, in some kind of a bunker. Or an old mineshaft. To her credit, Kate didn’t argue or ask where you got your intel.

Two hours later, you were still on the phone with him. The light began to creep slowly through the curtains, bringing with it a brand new day. But his breath had slowed, and his words came thicker from his throat.

“Just a little longer, okay?” You didn’t let him sense your fear as you quietly willed your life into him, to keep him hanging on.

Where the fuck were they?

The line had gone too quiet when you heard the blast.

“John! John, what was that?” You prayed it was the team, and not a fresh wave of enemy combatants come to finish the job.

“In here!” John’s voice, with a renewed strength.

“Bravo-7 to Watcher. Eyes on Bravo-6. We’ve got him.” You heard Lieutenant Riley’s unmistakable accent breakthrough as he got closer to the phone. “Have med-evac waiting topside. He’s in rough shape.” He switched from his comms to John. “Can you walk, Cap?”

“Well, you aren’t fucking carrying me, Ghost. That’s for bloody sure.”

“Please don’t leave me.” The tears that you finally let fall were of release. Of relief. You didn’t know if he still held the phone, or if it lay forgotten on the ground as they carried him away.

“Careful what you wish for, darling.”

#call of duty #john price #captain price #price x reader #captain john price #john price x reader #task force 141

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deeva-arud · 9 months ago

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Deeva Årud - Tsumsted Wonderland Voice Lines

Summon Line: Pointy ears, wings, freckles and blue marks under its eye… it really looks like me. What a strange situation.

Groooovy!!: Apparently, this tsum feels relaxed when I cover it with my wings.

Home: By some unexpected turn of events, there’s two Deevas now. It’s okay, we won’t cause you any trouble.

Home Idle 1: You want to hold my tsum? That’s going to be complicated… Don’t worry, you won’t be hit, but it’ll fly away if you try to approach it. Until it warms up to you, I’m afraid it won’t let you touch it.

Home Idle 2: When I was about to start my violin practice, I looked back at my tsum and found it holding a tsum-sized violin. It took me by surprise. Where did it get that from? And how could it play with those tiny arms?

Home Idle 3: My tsum was helping me convince my club members to practice a song together, but then Kalim brought out a box of pastries his family gifted him. I can’t believe its curiosity also succumbed to those delicious foreign snacks…

Home Idle - Login: Back at the dorm, someone thought my tsum was just a regular plushie because of how still it is. As soon as he stretched his hand towards it, it took flight. The shriek he let out hurt my ears but I still find the scene amusing.

Home Idle - Groovy: Hovering over a salmon dish and hopping around my cup of jasmine tea… well, it’s supposed to represent me, I wouldn’t have expected less. Unfortunately, I doubt it can eat any of that.

Home Tap 1: Even if tsums can’t talk, Sebek’s does a spectacular job at showing its loud personality using just body language.

Home Tap 2: Cater’s tsum constantly follows my tsum to show it photos and music on its phone. It seems his tsum also took a liking to mine, huh? It reminds me of when we were first years… Not that he stopped doing that now, though.

Home Tap 3: It seems my tsum and Jack’s bonded over cacti. It was heartwarming seeing them quietly observing plants together.

Home Tap 4: Floyd’s tsum went on “bored mode” while I was doing my shift at Mostro Lounge. I spent several minutes picking it up from the chairs so the customers could get a seat.

Home Tap 5: Tsums are cute. But the fact that they came down from the sky, looking and acting like us is a bit eerie. It sounds like the plot of a horror movie.

Home Tap - Groovy: I can’t help but think about the place tsums come from. Is everything made of round and squishy materials? Stacking can also scare away predators? Wait, do you even have predators? …Hm, no reaction, I may be wrong.

#After a year I can finally release this into the wild!!!#she was supposed to appear in the first tsum event tho :']#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland oc #twst oc #deeva twst #my art

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hotvintagepoll · 1 year ago

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Propaganda

Cyd Charisse (The Bandwagon, Brigadoon, Singin’ in the Rain)—LEGS LEGS LEGS I would sell my soul for the legs of Cyd Charisse - she oozed style and glamour and sex appeal!! And she could DANCE! She was dancing next to the greats - Gene Kelly, Fred Astaire but they are never who you're looking at because why would you when you can look at her. I will only sit through too long ballet breaks for her. If there was any woman who you could call sex on legs it was her. These dances are everything to meeee (she comes in at the minute mark) and this dance too of course is iconic. In the words of Fred Astaire 'When you've danced with Cyd Charisse you stay danced with'

Beata Tyszkiewicz (The Doll)—no propaganda submitted

This is round 1 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Beata:

Cyd:

Photos do not do Cyd Charisse justice, unfortunately, because she is at her hottest while dancing, which she was exquisitely good at. Just go watch her first number in Singin' in the Rain, in that green dress; nothing I could say here will be more convincing that that.

She had amazing legs, and she knew how to use them! You probably know her best from the dream sequence in Singin' In The Rain. She was such a stunning dancer, and all her dance scenes are hard to look away from.

Dancing in the Dark clip:

youtube

She's an amazing dancer and my favorite from the period. Here's her and Fred Astaire in the Band Wagon:

youtube

One of the most talented female dancers in Hollywood history, but what sets her apart from other competitors for that title is that she...umm...well let's be blunt, she was the dancer who put sex into it. The one who said "Hey, you know that A+ leg tone that naturally develops from doing this for a living? Why don't I let people see that? Like at every opportunity?" She reportedly insured her legs for five million dollars after hitting it big, which just goes to show that fame makes you crazy. It should have been ten million.

I just like a woman who's there to be really incredibly good at dancing.

Arguably the Best female dancer of her time, she supposedly insured her legs for $5 million dollars. Stole the show whenever she had a dance number, even if she went uncredited. Musicals started to go out of fashion so unfortunately she didn't have as many big roles as she should have, but those she did are unforgettable. The Broadway Melody number in Singin' in the Rain - the green dress!

She could pirouette in pointes or tear it up in taps. Fred Astaire called her "beautiful dynamite" and wrote, "That Cyd! When you've danced with her you stay danced with." Gene Kelly partnered with her three times. Her legs were (reportedly) insured for $5 million in 1952 ($57.8 million in 2024 dollars)! Everyone in this poll will be iconic, but for raw physical grace, Cyd is up there with the best.

Legs for days, beautiful dancer in the most iconic scenes of Singin in the Rain. She's glorious. As some guys sung to her in It's Always fair weather, 'baby you knock me out!'

Incredibly, Cyd Charisse only started learning to dance as a rehab exercise to strengthen her body after a childhood bout of polio. She was in high demand as a dance partner, Fred Astaire called her beautiful dynamite and said "When you've danced with her, you stayed danced with". She was one of a few leading ladies to dance with both Astaire and Kelly, declaring them both delicious. Kelly apparently was stronger, while Astaire was more coordinated. She also said her husband would always know who she had been dancing with because Kelly left her bruised, while Astaire didn't leave a mark. She's better known for her dance numbers today, but she was a leading lady in her time! Her Scottish accent in Brigadoon leaves a lot to be desired, but compared to the other actors in the movie, it's almost good. She appeared in The Harvey Girls alongside Judy Garland and Angela Lansbury in her first speaking role, but she really burst onto the scene with Singin' in the Rain and her infamous Broadway Melody Ballet number with Gene Kelly (no one could handle a length of fabric like Cyd Charisse). She was brought in because Debbie Reynolds wasn't really a dancer and Kelly was notoriously a stickler about his Vision. After that she starred opposite Astaire in The Band Wagon, which was a bit of a flop but created some enduringly incredible dance numbers. She went on to star in a number of MGM movies, and was one of the last of the Studio era stars to remain on contract. Since we've got up to 1970, I'm including her opening routine in The Silencers (1966) to show just how long she was making a splash - she's into her 40s here and still a siren:

youtube

and of course, the iconic Broadway Melody Ballet -

youtube

#beata tyszkiewicz #cyd charisse #hotvintagepoll #ladies 1 #fuck that old woman #Youtube

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milgram-tournament · 1 year ago

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MILGRAM Best Song Tournament, Round 1, Match 7 BACKDRAFT vs. IT'S NOT MY FAULT

Propaganda for both options under the cut!

Propaganda for BACKDRAFT:

"Backdraft may be a minute shorter than Bring It On, but it’s still over three minutes long, and it makes up for the lost minute with a complex form. The “Pressure! Pressure!” might be the only part that truly repeats.

At the beginning, Fuuta is showing off, acting cool. Then the music slows down as he ponders his verdict. Then the music picks up the pace again and gets more and more frantic as the consequences of his actions catch up to him.

See that structure in the three distinct verses that sound nothing like anything else in the song: cool, contemplative, and “oh no, what have I done”.

The “chorus” (burn burn!) never stays the same. You’ve got the “cool” first chorus. Then you have the muted second chorus as it sinks in that Fuuta’s victim was a middle-school girl, which leads into the tense final chorus (which is twice as long as the first) as the victim and Fuuta both burn.

The instrumental and the spoken-word from the beginning combine in the end, changing the mood of the stanza from confident and showy to panicked and desperate.

And the words… You can hear the wordplay in the last stanza, even if you don’t understand it.

Appreciate this chaotic masterpiece of a song."

---

- Fuuta being very cocky at first before realizing how fucked he is (it is kinda funny) - The use of spray cans and overall graffiti symbolism, it’s so good - The multiple eyes and people off camera showing how paranoid Fuuta has become, it’s really well done without being obvious - The name backdraft meaning when a fire deprived of oxygen gets a sudden influx of it. A kind of metaphor for what Fuuta did. Then it being shown through a spray can explosion, aaaa it’s really cool! - Fuuta’s overall look changing, being more realistic on how he actually looks contrasting Bring It On’s idealistic version of himself - Es at the end!! The only time Es shows up in a prisoner’s MV!!! And they looks so damn cool - Also the entire eye thing referencing the audience, he perceives us lmfao

---

"Back draft is incredible because it not only has great visual symbolism with the use of the spray cans but its visual symbolism shows a progression from ‘Bring it on’. In ‘Bring it on’ the channelling is glorious , fuuta is surrounded by people and fuuta idealised himself (taller , better teeth , better posture ect) , the people he cancelled were portrayed as these powerful rpg monsters but now in back now the channelling is portrayed as vandalism a crime as destructive , the ally is empty we only ever see others as hands or his victim fuuta is alone and fuuta is no longer idealising his appearance and his mind is now portraying his victim as a harmless cutesy drawing. This shows a change in how fuuta views his crime between T1 and T2. It wasn’t glorious, it wasn't justified , he was at fault. The fire being recontextsied as something out of control , all consuming and out of control which is the opposite of how it was portrayed in ‘Bring it on’ we really see how the vote has changed fuuta."

"There are so many things in the song that show a progression "

-“ deliciously scorched till your mouth waters” > “I don’t want any more”

-fuuta spray paints the camera hen as the end es spray paints him/the camera

-the pressure graffiti changing

"There’s so many interesting details like the applause towards the start of the song , the personality in the subtitles like them going from “Burn , burn!” To “burn , burn?” But the pressure’s punctuation mark stayed the same: “pressure , pressure!” , the way FIRE is the only word in full caps till LIES. The thumbs down fuuta does during “the fights up here! Come up to the ring and face me!” Part which is like his T1 art , the way the lighting changes from green towards the start and becomes red by the end (stop go colours) , The way fuuta is constantly interacting with the camera , spray painting it twice and kicking it."

"Backdraft actually makes amazing use of the camera , things are often shown from the (camera)audience’s perspective rather than us seeing the events removed. We are there like we are the ones doing it/looking through the eyes of the person doing it. When fuuta/the others spray paint the graffiti of his victim and the ice gorilla it's from the audience’s perspective , we don’t see them do it, we see it like we are doing it. When the spraypaint can explodes it's like it’s exploding in our face and then when es spray paints fuuta at the end they are spray painting the camera(audience). "

"Backdraft makes the most references to the voting system and uses it well to make the audience re-examine if they really are any different. Aren’t we using little information and inferences to hold people accountable for crimes we have no stake in? Aren’t we causing unintended harm? Aren’t we judging them from the safety of our screens? "

"And on a more silly level"

-ARTHUR CONANT GOES SO HARD IN THE VOCALS!!!! COME ON LISTEN TO BURN BURN AND TELL ME THIS MAN ISN’T GIVING IT HIS ALL!

-cat mouth fuuta :3 how can you not love cat mouth fuuta?

-lowpolydog designed amazing graffiti

Propaganda for IT'S NOT MY FAULT:

"It's Not My Fault is a beautiful song with a REALLY good song texture. Arisa Kori/Muu's voice is literally so amazing here, fitting perfectly with that confident and snarky appearance that Muu seems to want to give off. And just everything about it????? Muu did everything wrong free my girl- I love her bug design here, the pure drama of it and how she showcases Rei as a human in the bug world is so cool."

---

inmf!! have you heard the instrumental?! its just so good!!

the way rei turns the hourglass at the beginning!!! and it switches to when muu was at the top of the hierarchy!!!! that was such a cool detail!!!

BUG MUU IS LITERALLY SO CUTE. her smile at 1:19 🥺🥺

The way her voice drops at 1:30 and her 'KAWAISO NANO!!' at 1:51!!!

shes having so much fun while singing this weeeeeee

she's always pitiful!! shes always the drama queen 🥺🥺

please her getting the worst ratio while singing the 'im not guilty' song should alone be the reason she wins

---

"INMF is what got me into Milgram in the first place so of course I have to shill for it. I think its one of my favorite MVs Visually as the scenes set in the bug-web location are so visually striking. Muu and the rest of the bugs dark-purple skin and Muu's and neon pink hair stand out so much against it and it's so Pretty and Vibrant.

Storytelling wise INMF is amazing, it's a complete 180 of how Muu is seen in After Pain but not to the point where it feels like Muu is a totally different character. Muu is both a genuine victim and (in my opinion) a failgirl queen. She's trying her best to keep the image up but she is...NOT good at being a manipulative mastermind. And like After Pain before it, you can figure that out just through the visual and lyrical storytelling, that to some extent this is Still Also a Role Muu is Playing.

It's good! It's really good stuff! Muu is a character of cycles and After Pain and INMF work really well as a cyclical story about bullying. I think Muu should Win on having Good Storytelling and Fantastic Visuals and Being a Worst Girl. You should do it for all the girls in the world who are the Worst."

#milgram #milgramtournament #fuuta kajiyama #kajiyama fuuta #muu kusonoki #kusonoki muu #(holy shit you guys wrote whole essays for backdraft god bless)#(one of these days im gonna forget to set the poll to a week)

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ax-y10 · 1 year ago

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musician! bur mood board and headcanons

so, i've decided that i am going to be impatient and make headcanons for the inages and how they relate to musician! bur.

i also may or may not have chosen the images with the intent of making headcanons.

oh, and the layout for the order of the photos: first row: 1, 2, 3 second row: 4, 5, 6 third row: 7, 8, 9

anyways, headcanons below the cut:

1. "your voice is my favourite sound"

when wilbur is stuck in a writer's block, he'll listen more intently to when you talk and what you're talking about.

if he thinks it can be used in a song, he'll definitely record the conversation without you knowing.

he'll hint at the fact he wants to use that conversation as backing vocals and such, saying "your voice is my favourite sound" and will casually take a photo of you when you blush at his sly remark.

he wants to make sure every rant, conversation, and random sentences you voice are recorded in history, whether it be in his songs, on his phone, or stored on his computer to listen to as he works.

2. "everything's better with a little background music"

he will say this when you both are doing domestic activities, beabadoobee or the arctic monkeys playing on his speaker

"everything's better with a little background music" when you're washing the dishes, maintaining the lawn, when he's playing guitar for you in his room, when he shouts over the running water of the shower

he lives by this motto. it's constantly uttered every other minute of the day.

absolutely somehow pisses of his bandmates by bringing you on tour and muttering "everything's better with a little background music" at midnight to keep you awake, and just hearing mark shout "wilbur! shut up!"

3. "but wilbur! it's cool!"

one day, you had a need to take photos and keep them to look at later. one of the victims was wilbur's record collection and his headphones

you hadn't brought it up with him, but once he walked into the room with you positioning the headphones and touching his record collection, of course he was going to be anxious. that's his favourite collection!

"y/n! what are you doing?" he said, frantic, almost startling you. "i'm taking photos, wil," it didn't ease him at all. "yes! but i love that collection! please don't touch them!" you paused. "but wilbur! it's cool!"

when you showed you the photo later, he was over-joyed and begged you to make more. as long as you didn't hurt his music.

4. "you look pretty..."

it was a date, and you'd both decided that you were going to go record shopping so you could expand your own collection. wilbur's excuse was that "the atmosphere in the stores are cool! you have to see it!"

wilbur had his phone out the entire time, even though you had asked him to put it away because you felt awkward

you heard him utter "you look pretty..." while you were sifting through different records, immediately looking up at him and seeing a bright flash

when you got home, you saw a different background on his phone. it was the photo he took of you when he called you pretty.

5. "wilbur. smile!"

you were trying to take photos of him after lovejoy performed a gig, but he either wasn't staying still, was somewhere different to you or had the most default expression on his face.

"darling, hold on. let me put my stuff away then you can take a photo," you would not take such disrespect /j

"wilbur. stop real quick" and he stilled, and looked at you, so very unimpressed, so you took a funny photo of him through a small fit of giggles

"wilbur. smile!" you said, hoping to get a better photo, but he walked off, clearly exhausted from the day. so you joined him in bed while showing him all the photos you had of him. he fell asleep...

6. "music heals"

his birthday was coming up soon and you desperately needed to get him a gift. you thought a guitar pick would be perfect because all of his current picks were slowly being worn down from constant playing.

you found a website online that made custom picks, and you were grateful that they were uk based, making it easier to get it shipped to where you lived on time.

you got "music heals" engraved onto the pick, because it was what you always said when wilbur has in a rough spot. and he always ran to get his guitar and happily played for himself while you watched with soft eyes.

when he got it, he cried genuine 'i love you' tears. immediately engulfing you in a bear hug, he pressed soft, loving kisses across your face

7. "you've made a mess!"

for months, you sat in wilburs room with him, watching random videos he had on his phone and listening to silly stories from when they record in the studio

so the first day you go in there to watch in person, you were shocked by what the group left at the end of each rehearsal, specifically wilbur.

mark, joe, and ash all cleaned up after themselves at the end of the studio session, but wilbur left his things on the ground, leaving more mess for everyone else to clean up. you quickly snapped a phot and walked up to wilbur, holding the phone close to his face.

"you've made a mess!" you said, faux angry, clearly meant to be a snarky remark, but wilbur showed the opposite effect. "yes, sweetheart. i'll clean it up in a second," you had to clean it up because he fell asleep

8. "i love it!"

it was after a lovejoy gig when a small meet and greet had created itself. everyone either had a gift for wilbur or wanted to take a photo.

every gift he got, he replied with an enthusiastic "thank you so much!" but one gift stuck out to both you and wilbur.

at this specific gig, you were at his side, half asleep and leaning against him. wilbur would bring every gift into your line of view and you'd give a small smile.

but this gift was a drawing of a record player and a record on it, the small spotify listening line at the bottom. his loud "i love it!" broke you out of your sleepy state, and yet again, another gift was in your eyesight. "i love it!" you'd say, before dragging his ass to bed.

9. "without music, life would be a mistake"

yet again, this is another quote of wilbur's, and is specifically uttered when he feels like shit and is listening to music.

when you both are on a flight with lovejoy, on a car ride with the sorry boys, or simply walking somewhere, you share headphones, and you both listen to his music.

you can sense when he feels like shit, so you whisper under your breath, looking up at him "without music, life would be a mistake" which immediately causes him to look down at you.

with shock in his eyes at the sudden string of words, his flat expression is replaced with a small smile, and he mutters the words back to you, pressing a kiss to your forehead before continuing to listen.

#wilbur soot #wilbur #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot imagine #wilbur x reader #wilbur soot fluff #wilbur imagines #wilbur fluff #wilbur soot headcanons #headcanons #mood board #music #musician! bur #musician! bur headcanons #musician! bur mood board #musician! bur x reader

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madridfangirl · 2 months ago

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Star Crossed Lovers - Ch 18 blurb

Jude had an extended Christmas break, but Jobe didn’t, so the family flew in to Sunderland on 24th and Jude joined in that evening. Jobe interrogated him extensively about what went down in Madrid. Denise & Mark were curious too but Denise’s emphatic guideline to Mark was to just let Jude be. He’d talk to them when he’s ready.

Jobe texted Ananya, while she was on the way to the cabin.

Jobe: 😊

It was simple, but communicated a lot of things. Ananya smiled & responded immediately.

‘Merry Christmas Eve. Sorry for stealing your brother but I sent him right back :)’

‘To you too. And thanks, but he’s yapping non-stop now, more than usual.’

‘Well, good luck with that.’

‘Yeah I’m mostly ignoring him & Dad. Mum’s completely ignoring them!'

Ananya smiled while trying to picture the scene.

‘Have a great Christmas, Jobe. See you soon!'

‘You too. See ya!’

Immediately after that, she received a text from Jude. He had texted her earlier when he had landed, and then when he reached home, which was 30 mins ago.

‘Wassup?’

‘On my way. You?’

‘Sitting by the tree. Will read the letters soon.’

‘Tonight?’

‘Yeah, we do it on Christmas Eve. The presents are also tonight, so to wake up happy on Christmas Day.’

‘Lovely. Have fun.’

‘You too. But not too much.’

She laughed out loud and Anna turned to look at her from the driver’s seat.

‘Will try. Bye now.’

‘Bye.’

The letters were lovely. The whole family was a little overwhelmed but Mark started to make some silly jokes about Jude’s handwriting, when Jude had expressly warned them not to, and Jobe joined in. Laughter & mock wrestles filled the room while Denise stayed perched up on the side, smiling at the 3 kids.

The presents were a long, long affair. Jude had gone well & truly overboard this time - wanted to celebrate the massive Madrid contract & everything else that had come his way this year with his family. Denise even admonished him a little for the overspending and Mark tried to figure out how he even managed that when all his accounts were under their supervision. Jude just smiled smugly, saying he had his ways.

They stayed in for dinner, preferring a cozy home-made meal by the fireplace. It was already 11 pm. Jude checked his phone. Her last message was at 8:30 pm, when she reached the cabin. His mind kept picturing what could be happening there, and if he had made the right call to nudge her to go.

Nudge her? You practically threw her into his waiting arms.

Sometimes, Jude hated his mind for playing such cruel tricks.

He needed to talk to her right now. Fuck maturity! Fuck pride!

Jude called. The phone kept ringing. He tried again. Same outcome. After 15 mins, when his mind was about to go into a full-blown overdrive (he was close to pinging Roma for Anna’s number), his phone flashed with a message from her.

‘Bad network here. Just saw you called?’

Well yeah he called. That’s how the calls got registered on her phone.

Knowing fully well he couldn’t take that tone with her, Jude took two full rounds around his room before responding.

‘Yeah. Can we talk?’

He proceeded to stare at his screen for 1 full minute, then she called him.

‘Hey youuu.’

Jude could tell that tone from a million miles away. She was drunk. Bad idea, he needed her to be fully in her senses tonight. But, she was away celebrating with her friends and he couldn’t possibly hold that against her.

‘Having fun?’

‘Oh yeah. Just ate half a cake. Downed it with wine. In hindsight not a great call but hey.’

She was still using big proper words. Jude surmised she was more buzzed than drunk. Good, some respite!

‘Nice. What else is happening?’

‘Just eating & drinking & playing some music & a little bit of dancing.’

‘Nothing else?’

She smiled, getting his drift.

‘Nothing that I need to tell, like we discussed.’

‘About that, I changed my mind. Tell me everything.’

Not knowing was driving him up the wall. She knew he wouldn’t last long anyway.

‘Jude, we are just joking, bitching rather, about folks at work & some clients. Typical IB stuff.’

‘Hmm.’

She caught the annoyance in his tone. It was time to change the topic.

‘How did it go there? Your folks were surprised?’

That worked like a charm.

............................................................................

Happy New Year folks :)

#star crossed lovers #jude bellingham #jude bellingham blurb

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loony-binz · 5 months ago

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Jack headcanons pls. I'm begging 🙏🙏🙏

YE SHALL RECIEVE!!!!1

Jack Howl General HCs!!

He has a magicam dedicated entirely to his cacti

He listens to dad rock.

He has a very specific routine to keep his fur and tail fluffy and clean!!! A true man does NOT allow himself to look crusty!!!!!

If you try and throw a dog toy even as a joke he will lecture you for like 20 minutes.

That being said he will find that in record time

He’s a hopeless romantic. Like he dreams of the whole meet-cute staying together forever type stuff.

Speaking of, absolute sucker for romance movies. He will chastise the characters for making stupid decisions, but he is INVESTED.

In that same vein, he detests reality TV, claiming that it brings out the worst in people for monetary gain (king shit tbh)

He may act like a hardass, but he switches up SO QUICK with his siblings. He wants to not only be a good role model for them, but also a figure they can rely on (I luv him fr)

He cringes whenever he watches musicals and can only handle very few (Phantom of the Opera FTW)

Has VERY low spice tolerance. Like you give this man two takis and he’s down for the count

Wants to tend to flowers more, but he lowkey has a pollen allergy (don’t tell anyone)

Believes heavily in karma, so he tries not to lose his patience very often but HOOOO do bitches (Floyd) try him

The twins pissed him off so bad on a Mostro Lounge shift one time that now there’s a giant bite mark on one of the tables in the back because he was genuinely gonna crash out

He’s picky when it comes to seafood because he hates the odor of raw fish

He really likes lime flavored candy

He’ll act all tsundere if you give him any kind of friendship bracelet “don’t think this means anything!!” Or “Don’t expect me to wear it!!!” Shit like that, but he will treasure that shit FOR LIFE

he’ll scrunch his nose when he’s confused with something and it’s lowkey adorable

Knows a shocking amount of history, like he just knows random facts off the top of his head.

It’s bc he uses documentaries as white noise LMFAO

#Hope u enjoy!!!!#Thx for the req!!!!!#twst #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #jack howl #twst jack #twst headcanons #savanaclaw

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mangowillow · 1 year ago

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last to know | ch. 1: haunted dreams

pairing: jungkook x (f) reader / kim woosung x (f) reader

summary: you and jeongguk got together at 16 years old, married at 20, and divorced at 21. what was once love ever after turned into nothing but pain and unfulfilled dreams. you keep going despite the pain in your heart that never really went away, until one day, jungkook comes back— to seoul and in your life.

general story tags: divorce au, childhood friends, angst (who am i without it), hurt & eventual comfort, kind of a slow burn, OC is an adopted child in this fic, a lot of flashbacks later on because context is important; and the others that a lot of people seem to dislike: a love triangle and a LOT of miscommunication. look away if this isn't your thing. tags and warnings will be updated as we go along with each chapter!

warnings: nothing really; well, maybe except seokjin's intrusive thoughts about an axe k*ller— but it's tame, i promise! oh, and jeongguk gets slapped. be nice and let me know if i miss anything! there's a mini flashback in this chapter in all italics marked by a ♥!

word count: 3,900

author's note: i am very nervous about this first chapter because it's been A WHILE since i last wrote ~something~ so anyway! here you go, enjoy!

fic masterlist

New York, 2023

It was right when the DJ turned up the volume that Jeongguk felt the impact of a palm hitting him square in the jaw.

Jeongguk doesn’t know what stimuli to focus on: should it be the loud music blasting through the speakers or the sting of the slap that he probably deserved. It doesn’t take his brain too long to piece together what just happened 5 seconds ago. He knows what’s coming and he is also very much aware that he did see it coming sooner or later.

“Fuck you, Jeongguk,” Ae-cha grits through her teeth. Jeongguk swears she’s about to cry, tears threatening to spill amidst the blue glow of the lights above them. “We are dating, how can you say that—”

“We sleep together when it’s convenient for the both of us, Ae-cha.” Jeongguk downs the rest of his scotch, along with the remnants of his pride. “I never said anything about dating.”

“You are such a jerk!” Ae-cha turns a shade of red, tears in the corners of her eyes. It isn’t the first time Jeongguk has ever made a woman cry, but oddly enough, he doesn’t feel that hollow ache in his chest; the one he felt the first time he made that mistake. He should feel bad, he thinks, but then again, he also doesn’t.

Does that make him a bad person?

“I didn’t listen to my friends when they said you were trouble. I wanted to prove them wrong—” Ae-cha starts, but Jeongguk cuts her off.

“Why? Why do you have to?”

Ae-cha’s eyes grow wide as she watches Jeongguk stare at his empty glass.

“You should have listened to your friends.” Jeongguk says, matter-of-fact. Ae-cha scoffs and Jeongguk knows now is the right time to probably shut up.

But he’s a jerk, just like Ae-cha says he was.

“I told you right from the beginning… we just use each other because we’re both lonely,” Jeongguk feels his throat turn dry, “I think somewhere along the way, you misread my actions.”

Ae-cha doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. She closes her eyes for a minute and Jeongguk looks at her, waiting for her rebuttal. Or maybe a second slap. Whichever comes first.

Ae-cha speaks in a voice so low, it’s perplexing how Jeongguk is still able to pick up her words— “Your problem is that you do not care about other people’s feelings, Jeongguk. You only care about your own.”

Jeongguk tightens his jaw; now he feels his heart aching.

“You hurt people. You ruin good things. You keep your heart under tight wraps and you do not let anyone in. If you keep that up, you will end up with no one.”

Jeongguk stares at Ae-cha, wanting to say something, but failing completely. Maybe this is what he gets for sleeping with a psychologist— a rude awakening.

Before he can say anything, Ae-cha turns on her heel and walks away. Jeongguk remains at the bar for a bit more until the song changes into a slower tempo. It feels like a chore walking back to the table where his best friend Yoongi was— like walking on lead.

“That must’ve hurt—” Yoongi starts, fingers reaching out to the peanut bowl and putting some into his mouth. Jeongguk plops down on the chair with a sigh. “What a shitty night,” he quips.

Yoongi hums, “And whose fault is that?”

Jeongguk looks at his best friend in annoyance. Yoongi chuckles, putting more peanuts into his mouth. “What’d she say?”

“That I’m a jerk who hurts people and ruins good things.”

“Is it true?”

“You tell me.”

“I don’t think I need to do that, kid.” Yoongi concludes, glancing at Jeongguk. He takes a swing out of his beer bottle before continuing, “You know damn well the answer to that.”

Jeongguk clicks his tongue and takes the beer from Yoongi. He takes a swig himself, letting their conversation die out by drowning it into the same old music he’s used to hearing almost every night.

Jeongguk comes home to his apartment that night, tipsy and his heart in pieces. Walking into the living room, the corner of his eyes catch the stack of luggages already packed and loaded. He didn’t feel like sitting on the couch so he opts to sit on the floor, his fingers grazing the carpet absentmindedly. A beat later, he allows his heart to bleed once more— as he always seems to do every single night for the past few years. Leaning his head back against the edge of his couch, he cries himself to sleep, wishing, praying the ache in his chest—and the words you hurt people—would go away in the morning.

Seoul, 2023

Your eyes try to take in the art in front of you— The Artist’s Garden in Giverny, Claude Monet, 1900. Usually, many emotions overwhelm your system and you cannot help but discuss any painting with the next person willing to listen.

And once upon a time, you were enthusiastic about your craft and love for the arts. It was almost always too easy, too often that you could come up with pieces to add to your gallery. But that hasn’t happened in over a year— maybe more than.

In the stillness of the room you are in, you hear light footsteps coming closer to where you are. You keep your eyes trained on Monet’s painting until your brother Seokjin sits beside you.

For a while, you and Seokjin just sit beside each other— no words, only a quiet understanding that close siblings seem to share and empathize with. Seokjin’s parents adopted you when you were eleven; a year after you and your parents met a horrible car collision. You are five months older than Seokin, yet that fact doesn't deter him at all, and more often than not, he usually ends up acting like your older brother. When he first met you at the orphanage, he grew fond of you real quick— already asking his parents when he’d be allowed to play with you. He doesn’t mind that you were once part of the system, that you are his half-sister— not really. He never treated you any differently. He loves you with his whole heart and he will always protect you.

This is why he also cannot stand stillness at times, especially when it involves you.

“Have you been waiting long?” Seokjin asks.

You have a habit of kicking your right foot into the air when you don’t really know how to respond right away. You take a sharp inhale before shaking your head. Seokjin follows your line of sight— you were still looking at the painting.

“Does it make you feel better? Looking at this, I mean…”

Seokjin’s question makes you look at him instead, like you just realized he had been sitting there this whole time and you never knew. He meets your eyes, sees the sadness in them. He will always know no matter how hard you try to hide it.

“Happy birthday, ____”

You don’t respond.

“Taehyung and the others are waiting down at the cafe. Do you still want to meet them?”

You nod once before giving Seokjin a smile, “Of course.”

Seokjin slides into the gap between the two of you and instinctively, you rest your head on his shoulder as he envelops you in a side hug. He rubs a hand up and down your arm before planting a light kiss on top of your head.

“I know it doesn’t get any easier, ____. But I just want you to know that I love you… We all love you.”

With shaky breath and tears that threaten to spill from your eyes, you whisper, “I know.”

As Seokjin gets into the driver’s seat, you hand him an envelope. Seokjin has an inkling what it is, but he asks you anyway as he squints his eyes at you.

“What is that supposed to be?”

You push the envelope towards him a bit more, just humming, “It’s the last payment.”

Seokjin rolls his eyes as he presses the ignition. He doesn’t take the envelope, “Oh come on, Seokjin, just take it.”

“And for the nth time, you shouldn’t have to pay for something I willingly helped you out for. We’re siblings, for gods sake, ____.”

You lower your hands, setting the envelope on your lap. Eyes cast down you mumble, “I know that. I was able to sell a painting again after a long time and it felt good… But I already told you this before— I’d feel better if you just please take this.”

Seokjin lets out a sigh— usually he makes that sound when he’s already defeated.

“Please don’t tell me you’re giving me all the money you worked hard for,” Seokjin starts and you shake your head as soon as you heard the word all. “No, not at all, I— I had some saved up and the rest of it will be for rent.”

You look at Seokjin who still looks suspicious. You playfully roll your eyes and Seokjin sees you smile for the first time that night.

“I promise.”

Seokjin sets his eyes on the parking lot, placing his hands on the steering wheel, “Fine—” you squeal as soon as he gives in and you place the envelope in the glove compartment. “—but this is the last time, all right?”

“Yes sir, that’s the last of the payments,” you respond a tone higher than your usual. Seokjin chuckles as he sets the gear into reverse.

“Are you sure you don’t need any help moving some of your stuff?” Seokjin asks as you fasten your seatbelt.

“Not really, I think I can manage just fine.”

You expect Seokjin to be backing up the car right now, yet he remains unmoving. You chuckle.

“I’ll be fine, Seokjin. Movers will help me move some of the heavier stuff.”

“Listen, ____, I was beyond ecstatic when you told me you were moving out of… there. I just don’t understand why you need to move in somewhere else when you can just stay with me.”

“Seokjin—”

“And it’s not like you have any problems with money or anything, I mean, you are doing okay right?”

“I am,” you answer with a smirk.

“Yah, don’t give me that look, ____. I’m serious, I really don’t understand why you have to stay somewhere else.”

“I already told you. I don’t need a big apartment, I just need a place to sleep. And isn’t it weird if we live together— people are going to think we’re co-dependent.”

Seokjin opens his mouth to argue, but you cut him off, “And I know what you’re going to ask next. Why did I choose to move in an apartment on the other side of the city? And I already told you a dozen times— I need to learn how to be on my own for real this time. And it’s much cheaper compared to all the other apartments in the city center, I mean— have you seen Seoul?”

“Don’t get cheeky with me, woman. Sure yeah, valid, but have you met your neighbors?”

“What does that have to do with anything?” you ask confidently.

“Well, they could be an ax killer or something—”

“Or they could just be an ordinary person with a normal life, Seokjin.” You laugh at your brother’s catastrophic thoughts. You completely understand where he’s coming from— he just wants to protect you.

“That’s only hypothetical,” Seokjin snarks as he stops at a stoplight. You lay your hand on top of his on the console.

“I know you’re worried about me—”

“I am, you brat.”

“And I will forever be grateful… but I need to do this,” you reply calmly, almost like you were whispering. “I hope you understand.”

“I’m trying, ____. It’s not exactly easy to do that when you’re not giving me the grace to understand exactly why you need to do this… when you can just stay with me. The house is too big. And the cafe is right next door!”

“And we will get to that someday… but not right now, hm?” Seokjin sighs in defeat. “I will call you every single night if that will make you feel better.”

“Yah, those kinds of things have to come from the heart, not because you’re forced to do it just to appease me.”

“I’m not… I actually really want to talk to my little brother every day,” you tease as Seokjin scoffs.

“Fine, you have to call me every day, okay? Promise?”

You grin wide, “I promise.”

“And I am not your little brother, we’re only 5 months apart.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that I’m older than you.”

Seokjin grumbles under his breath but a smirk was on his lips, “And you’re always going to be my brat.”

The coffee shop you and Seokjin run together has been passed down by your parents. Ever since Seokjin could utter the word, “coffee,” everyone in the family knew he was destined to manage the coffee chains. Even though you were technically the older one, your parents were more lenient and allowed you to forge your own path. Seokjin understood that and he wouldn’t have it any other way despite your pleas to help him with all the major business work. It has been a few years since the original coffee shop in Seongsu-dong expanded into different branches across Seoul. When you flew back from New York, you immediately put up your own artist studio right beside the cafe. Seokjin even pitched in on the idea of a gallery where people can choose to paint while drinking their favorite latte. Four years later, people now come for the art displays and occasional indie music performances, at times poetry nights.

Four years later, you were also making a name for yourself as an artist. Seokjin once told you you were a jack of all trades, master of everything because you were crafty with your hands— painting, dress-making, cooking. And you brush him off every single time.

Because if anything, one of your greatest weaknesses was believing whether or not you were good enough for anything or anyone.

Seokjin opens the door for you as you both enter the coffee shop. As soon as you come in, you are greeted by your long-time friends— Taehyung, Hoseok, and Jimin. You met Taehyung and Jimin in New York because you were all fine arts students. Hoseok came into the picture as Taehyung’s lover not long after the three of you came back home to Seoul.

“There she is, our little star,” Taehyung greets you with his signature boxy smile. His arms are wide open, ready to engulf you in a tight embrace. Jimin and Hoseok follow suit, each with a kiss on the cheek.

“It’s about time you show your pretty face, ____. It’s been ages since we last saw you,” Jimin quips.

“But I text and call you guys almost every day,” you defend. Hoseok pushes a plate of strawberry cake towards you and adds, “It’s not the same as seeing you in the flesh, ____. You look amazing, as always.”

“Thank you, Hobi. That’s reassuring, considering the fact that I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in ages.”

“Too many commissions?” Jimin asks.

“More than that, the gallery show at Seojung Art is in six months, and I still haven’t started on my piece.”

“Do you already know what you’re going to create?” Taehyung asks as he takes a bite of his croissant.

“That’s the problem… inspiration isn’t coming. It’s a bother,” a frown now evident across your face. Jimin holds your hand.

“You know you’re really talented, right, ____? You’ll pull through.”

“Thanks, Jiminie,” you smile at him.

“Maybe one of the customers’ paintings here could ignite a spark?” Taehyung starts. “I mean, sometimes the best kind of inspiration hits when you least expect it.”

“You’re right. I’ll sleep on it tonight… if I do get to sleep,” you chuckle, but they all know it’s more than that.

Seokjin comes back to the table with your hot mint tea— a drink that almost always helps you fall asleep.

“What’s with the dead atmosphere, guys? It’s been a while since we all got together like this and you’re all moping,” Seokjin jokes. He has always been the life of the party contrary to his very introverted nature.

“It really is a good night, isn’t it?” Taehyung replies as he eats up the last bit of his pastry. “Hoseok and I actually enjoyed the night breeze on the way here because it was just the right amount of chilly.”

“Always the romantic, this one,” Hoseok laughs.

Jimin carefully watches you as you sip your tea in silence. “Are you all settled to move in tomorrow, ____? Do you need help?”

“I’ll be fine, Jimin. I don't have as much stuff to pack, anyway.”

“Oh yeah that’s right, tomorrow’s moving day. Are you excited?” Taehyung jumps a bit on his seat, suddenly interested in the conversation.

“Not really, I mean, it’s going to be pretty boring moving stuff around, don’t you think?”

“But it’s also the start of a new beginning.” Taehyung supplies.

You smile after taking a bite of the cake, “That is very true.”

Seokjin opens his mouth to talk, but then closes it. He changes his mind anyway, “Her neighbors don’t own axes or something, right Taehyung?”

Taehyung giggles, “I don’t know, hyung, It’s not like I went into every apartment on her floor.”

Seokjin turns pale and Taehyung laughs. Taehyung used to live on the same floor as the one you’re about to move into— before he moved in with Hoseok.

“Seokjin is so worried about the neightbors that he couldn’t stop ranting about it on the way here,” you chuckle. “But as I told him, I’ll be fine.” You placed emphasis on the word fine as you held Seokjin’s hand for reassurance under the table.

“Are you telling that to us or to yourself?” Seokjin starts. He has a way of being so upfront with you that there were moments when it became the cause of your fights and misunderstandings. Seokjin sometimes does not know when to stop, yet you know he always means well. You love and dislike him for it at the same time.

“Hyung…” Jimin readily interjects.

“It’s okay, Jimin…” you put your fork down and paused before looking at Seokjin. “I am telling all of you and myself… that I will be fine. I am honestly really thankful that you’re all here now to keep me company.”

You’ve been saying the word “fine” and “okay” a whole lot that night— you started to doubt if you really are or if Seokjin was right— that you’re just trying to convince yourself of it.

“Are you holding up okay, noona?” Hoseok asks, worried.

“Of course—” you take a sharp exhale before continuing, “It also means that time is helping me get past it. And I am okay with that.”

None of your friends respond.

“We love you always, ____. You’ll always have us.” Taehyung said.

“Happy birthday, noona,” Jimin smiles.

Your friends sing you their greetings as Hoseok brings out their surprise birthday cake and flowers. As you try not to cry at their gesture, you try to give them the most genuine smile you can muster. Yet in your heart, you know it’s not enough to convince them. Or yourself.

♥ “You do not get to tell me shit because I have done everything for you—”

“I didn’t ask for any of this, Jeongguk—”

“And yet you still came here with me. If you are really that resentful about moving here… about marrying me— then why did you stay? Why are you still here?”

“I never said I resented you.”

“Yeah? Well it feels like it. You make me feel like shit whenever I can’t help you! God I— you know what? I’m done. I can’t do this with you anymore.”

“W-what do you mean you can’t—”

“—I’m saying we should end this. I want a divorce.”

Yoongi gently shakes Jeongguk’s shoulder to wake him up. “We’re almost landing, Jeongguk-ah,” he whispers.

Jeongguk slightly jerks from his sleep. His body feels heavy, his brain foggy but at the same time trying to recover from the dream he just had.

“It’s the same dream again, isn’t it?” Yoongi asks, knuckles turning white as he holds on to the arm rests. Turbulence has always been a bitch— well, at least to Yoongi. Jeongguk doesn’t answer him; instead, he looks out the plane window, thinking the plane couldn’t land fast enough.

“You keep calling out for her, you know? When you dream, I mean. Did you know that?”

That gets Jeongguk’s attention. He bites down on his lip ring before shaking his head, “No. I didn’t know.”

From baggage claim until Jeongguk and Yoongi exit through arrivals, there has been nothing but silence. Yoongi notices how Jeongguk’s hands couldn’t keep still: he’d take them in and out of his pockets. As they walk to the car that awaits them, Yoongi asks once more— “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?

Jeongguk lets out a long breath before looking at his best friend: “I will be.”

“This is the last of the boxes, ma’am.” One of the movers holds a medium-sized box. “Where do you want me to put it?”

You get up from one of the boxes you were opening, “Oh, that’s okay, I’ll take it. Thank you.”

“I just need you to sign one more thing before we wrap up.”

“Of course,” you take the pen and sign on the dotted line.

“Have a good day,” The movers gave you a small bow before they went on their way. Looking around the room, you let out a sigh. The apartment is bigger than you initially thought but you are happy about that. There’s an extra room spacious enough to set up a painting studio.

Your eyes land on the last box that was given to you by the mover. Inside it are memories that you don’t feel ready to touch just yet. Despite everything else scattered around your room, you pick up the box and shove it into the back corner of your closet. Maybe someday you’ll have the heart to open it again, but right now, it stays out of sight.

You were about to start opening one of the other boxes when a soft, melodic voice comes up behind you— “Hey baby.”

You turn around quickly, your heart and body naturally gravitating to the owner of the voice: Kim Woosung, your boyfriend.

“Hi,” you softly respond, heart happy upon seeing your boyfriend’s smile. He sets the take-out bags down to hug you. Woosung then gives you a long kiss on your forehead, mumbling, “I missed you.”

You don’t lift your eyes to meet his right away, but your hands reach out for his as he cradles your face. When you finally look at him, he gives you that warm smile you have always loved. With Woosung, there is peace, the kind that secures your heart. As he aligns his forehead with yours, you feel all your worries melt away.

With Woosung, everything feels safe, so right.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” Woosung apologizes. You shake your head gently and wrap your arms around his neck.

“You’re just in time.”

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagine #bts au #jungkook fic #bts jungkook #bts fanfiction #woosung x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook divorce au #jungkook fanfic #childhood friends #divorce au #mwillow: last to know

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kanmom51 · 1 year ago

Text

JM live 1 September 2023 20:54 or 8:54 pm KST

And a little bit about JK's same day live as well.

Part 1

Cr./The creators of the media used in this post.

So we got a live from JK at the start of the day. 12:55 am or 00:55 KST, and from JM in the evening, at 20:55 or 8:54 pm KST.

One opening the days birthday celebrations (or was he?) and the other closing them (in a sense).

Do we have numbers working for the two?

Let's see.

JK's live:

Super easy. Add the 1+2+5+5=13. Then add 0+0+5+5=10.

What?

13/10.

So we get JK's special day with JM's special day. How sweet.

JM's live: Add the 2+0+5+4=11. Then add the 8+5+4=17 and down to a single digit: 1+7=8.

Guess what we get.

8/11

And if you want just a little bit more utilize the date:

1/9/23

1+9+2+3=15

and Ta-dah...

8/11/15

Oh, and if it's numbers we are talking about, and if anyone has any kind of doubt that numbers mean so so much to JM and JK, well here's another little doozy.

JM's watch. Yes, the tens of thousands of dollars worth watch he was wearing during the live.

*Screenshot taken at 3:20 min. mark.

It's a little hard to see, but the time on his watch looks to be around the 3:27 mark.

I want to remind you that JM started his live at 8:54 pm KST. JM has been in SK for months and you would think his watch would be set to KST, no?

Screen shot at 8:24 min.

Screenshot of watch at 32:56 min. mark.

Deduct the live time stamp at every one of those given moments from the time on the watch and you will go back to 3:23/4.

Why, you may ask, am I making such a big deal about this?

Well, my dear friends, this is why:

JK's time of birth tattoo, just to remind you.

JK's time of birth being 3:23-24.

Did JM set his watch to start the live at 3:23-24? JK's birth time?

Wait, but that's not the end of it.

Because JM's watch is also of significance.

Launched in 1997.

What in the effing hell?

Like, if you have another explanation please do explain!!!

Watch not working? Nope, it is, time counting as the live goes on, all from the 3:23 mark.

Coincidence? Again? That his watch happens to be set at JK's birth time, and it also, by chance, being one launched same year JK was born? JK, who's birthday happens to be on that specific day? The person who JM tells us to wish happy birthday and that it's a "wonderful day"?

Please don't continue to say this is all a coincidence. Setting your watch to a time that happens to be JK's birth time, something we have been told in the past, something that JK tattooed on his own body, hence being of significance to him, and most obviously of significance to JM as well.

JM and JK might not be saying the words out loud, but shit, they sure are being as loud as hell about what they are to each other!!!

Ok, so I mentioned in passing JK's live. His almost 9 minute live. His totally out of character shorter than short live, even more so when we are talking about a birthday live. No cake. No candles. No playlist (he told us this was just the music that he left on when he left earlier and it's still playing). No patience, lol. He came, he said hi, he told us he was out with friends he was practicing with (wonder if the reason he came live is to explain who with and why he was out and about...), said he's suffering from insomnia and he has to sleep. Did a card trick...MAGIC... Lol, and ducked. Like even his goodbye was super super short. Now, you could say he had a tight schedule, which he does, and that he has to sleep, which he does. But JK was definitley not on his way to bed when he was doing that live, nor shortly after. He was happy and super hyped, and in NO WAY shape or form about to go to bed at that point.

We need to remember that when they say they have a schedule, it's not a 9 to 5 job. Many a times their days start at noon and later and they keep on working into the early hours of the morning. That is the nature of their work. So having a tight schedule doesn't necessarily mean he has to be up at 7 or 8 am and off to the company or wherever he needs to be in the morning.

You could claim he was excited because it was his birthday, and perhaps you would be right. But if it was the end of his night, then excited what for? Bed? Where he struggles to fall asleep? Nah, I don't think so.

So yeah, I think you know where I'm going with this.

Only that this time we didn't get a photo because there was no one around to buffer.

2019 JM flies back to Seoul to celebrate JK's birthday with him. 2020 JM was with JK on his birthday eve. 2021 we don't know, they didn't tell us, we got a selfie the next day in the safety of the company - not the two together alone at JK's or JM's. 2022 JM was also with JK on his birthday eve. We got to see and hear about it just after JK's birthday, and we had Jhope there as a buffer. Why buffer? So that god forbid they aren't spending his birthday eve alone at his place, especially if it's happening year after year after year, cause you know, people would say it means nothing but at the same time it means everything.

I'm going to say it out loud, and shoot me (not literally) if you wish, but this is a hill I am willing to die on. JK wrote his birthday message and very possibly was not planning to go live that night. Perhaps he did come live because of the photos that came out of him with the fans and the info about him being out and about that night. But for whatever reason JK did go live that night it was always going to be short and sweet. And I do believe that is because he had something else planned which is not going to sleep.

I do believe whatever he had planned was with JM. Period. That's what JK was anticipating, that's what he was excited and happy for, that's why he came for a couple of secs and jolted off.

And for those that are already running to the comments screaming "but JM said he only spoke with JK the day before his birthday to wish him happy birthday" I say: hold your horses, I will most definitley get to it and explain to y'all exactly how JM did not say that by no means. Take a breath, be patient, read on, you'll see why JM said no such thing.

The two of the men having the live the same day.

It kind of felt weird that of all days JM goes live on JK's birthday. Well, maybe weird isn't the right word, but curious is more fitting.

JM wanted to come live for some time now. He says that. But then why, of all days, choose this one?

JM himself tells us he wasn't planning to go live from home that day (while on his way to fetch the mood lamp to show us).

Both lives feel unplanned, rushed and unprepared. There. I said it.

Did either of them even plan to do these lives? Or, perhaps they were a consequence of circumstances? JK wanting to clarify his outing (knowing how this fandom rolls). And JM... why JM? Well, maybe there was actually a birthday live planned? Could that be? One at the company? Us finally getting a Jikook live? Or even just a proper JK live at the company with a cake and all? But JK's schedule ran later than expected maybe? Hence one boyfie coming to the rescue and going live in his stead?

All of the above is questions, queries, possible explanations as to why JM decided to go live from home on JK's birthday, even though he himself tells us this was not the plan. I don't have the answer to these questions, but it definitley does have me wondering.

Will continue this discussion with regards to JM later on in my post.

Let's get to talking about JM's live. Starting by his opening pic.

I have to tell you that first thought I had when seeing the photo was "is that JK?". The frame wasn't right, but the outfit most definitely was, lol.

And guess what?

He's wearing pants for the boys new favourite brand. I guess JM's the one wearing the pants in the house, lol. But then, are they his? They do seem a little on the bigger size.

So, first 17 minutes or so to the live JM talks a bit about not coming live for a while and how he wanted and yet didn't because he's been going through a bit of a personal journey. Not doing well enough in his March promotions, in his mind, had him frustrated and unhappy with himself. Him wanting to restart rather than fix what he feels might be lacking. Kind of resetting himself per say as an artist? In any case he's been doing a lot of introspection. I guess I've mentioned that already, lol. The feeling I got from what he was telling us is that he himself didn't know how to explain what he wanted to tell us. His words not thoroughly thought out, perhaps another sign as to him going live unprepared and before properly thinking out what he wanted to tell us.

JM talks about being at the Dior event. Being nervous and awkward. Also wanting to thank fans that came to see him.

JM is asked multiple times about his hands. Oh my, those hands.

And when I say multiple times, I mean MULTIPLE times, lol. And JM keeps reading those comments and keeps answering again and again and again that it's a scrape from him working out, doesn't hurt, not to worry. At one point, after he is talking about JK's birthday, telling us it's a wonderful day, lovely smile on his face, and asked yet again, he 'bites back' (if you can call if bite back, lol), telling the commenter to look for it later (as in go watch the live from the start when it's over and they will find out).

Is this the right time to discuss JM talking about JK's birthday?

I think it is.

At around the 18 minute stamp time this goes down:

He says Jungkookie, btw.

From the moment he said JK is very busy (he looks at the camera) and up to this point, when he talks about JK's health, not once does JM look at the camera. His eyes were all over the place. And that includes not looking at the camera when he said "I talked to him on the telephone yesterday too".

Remember this?

@dgtn brought this to my attention. JM's eye movement in this part of the live reminds of his eye movement while thinking just before he goes for the kill with JK and the "did you answer them".

Here's JM talking about Jungkookie's birthday. Look at his eyes.

(But that smile at the end...)

JM was definitely deep in thought as to what to say, how to word what he wanted to say for JK's birthday.

Several things to note.

Where to start?

I guess I'll start from the obvious.

People jumping on the wagon: "JM didn't see JK on his birthday. He said so. He said he talked to him yesterday...(to wish him happy birthday?)".

Me, I'm calling the bull.

And I will explain it to you too (foreshadowing).

JM, as usual, is very precise how he words what he wants to say.

His words in this instance:

He mentions JK's birthday today, tells us he's very busy and then says "I talked to him on the phone yesterday too..." and back to "he's really busy..."

"I talked to him on the phone yesterday too..."

Let's take this apart, why don't we?

JM spoke with JK on the phone.

The conversation happened yesterday.

What did they talk about? He doesn't tell us. But mentioning JK being busy before he talks about the phone call and after he talks about the phone call. It feels like this is what he is telling us they spoke about.

So far so good, right?

And then we have two words/things said/or not said that are EVERYTHING here.

One word that he says, the other something that is not said and, at least to me, is super loud and super important and was omitted purposefully.

First word is "too".

I talked to him yesterday too...

TOO.

Leaving the context of the sentence open to interpretation.

Could be any of these:

I talked to him yesterday too just like I speak to him every day?

I talked to him yesterday too because I spoke to him today as well?

I talked to him yesterday too because I was also seeing him later on as well to celebrate his birthday with him?

As for what was missing, well to me it was quite obvious.

JM does not tell us that he wished JK happy birthday.

There was no "I talked to him yesterday too and wished him happy birthday".

JM makes sure to tell us he spoke with JK yesterday (which is not on JK's birthday). Makes sure to add the TOO, but forgets to say that's also when he wished him happy birthday? I think not.

JM is super measured. He is so very careful in what he says and how he says it, especially when it comes to JK. This man not saying it means the words were added or omitted on purpose. And not telling us he wished JK happy birthday in that phone call, well, makes it clear that the phone call in question was definitley not the end of it. Because there is no way in hell that JM would not wish JK happy birthday personally (not via an IG post that JK wouldn't see anyway not being on IG).

Since when would JM not wish JK happy birthday? The man is telling us to wish JK happy birthday, telling us it's a wonderful day, setting his watch to JK's birth time. The man that flew back from Paris to be with JK on his birthday. And also let us know he did it. He wouldn't have wished JK happy birthday himself? And this man wouldn't tell us so either?

Nah. This is JM telling us he spoke with JK, something he does all the time, and that the conversation he's talking about has nothing to do with JK's birthday.

And yeah, by omitting that he's also letting us know that he had another opportunity, one he isn't letting us in on, in which he got to wish JK happy birthday.

PERIOD!

JM talking about JK looking after his health. The way those two worry about each other.

Did I mention the pause as JM finishes talking about JK? It being a wonderful day? The smile on his face?

Oh, and JK mentions JK's birthday once more at the end of the live as well when summing up the live.

Thank you JM for reminding us once more it's JK's birthday and that it was one of those things in your live worth mentioning in your own recap of the live.

Now, I know that there are idiots that are dragging Mingyu for saying he met JK yesterday (on his birthday) and ate with him.

Well, dragging Mingyu on the one hand for what? Saying he met up with his friend on his birthday? That by doing so he was dissing JM? And others, on the other hand, using this, very stupidly, to prove that a busy JK would rather meet up with Mingyu than with JM.

Are we forgetting what JM told us? Well, JK too? That JK is super busy? Most likely in the Hybe building. You know, where Mingyu also comes to work, being in Seventeen, another Hybe band. Could they have met up at Hybe? Of course they could have. Could they even maybe have met up for a meal break at Hybe? Of course they could have. Mingyu was doing the live in a company car, probably on his way home from work looking super tired. So yeah. Chances are that they met at Hybe.

And as for JM, well, you already know where I stand on that one.

JM and JK most definitely saw each other on JK's birthday. Most likely right after JK's live.

Ok, this one is getting a little too long. So I think I'll leave you all here at the moment, let it all sink in, and come back with a part 2 that will include our little house tour and a few more interesting points - well for me at least, lol.

To be continued...

#Jimin #JM #JM live #JM Weverse live #Jungkook #JK #JK birthday #JK birthday 2023 #Jikook #Kookmin #Minkook

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hiddenwritingsintheworld · 2 years ago

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Cruel Summer Chapter 1 (Chris Evans x Actress/Singer!Reader)

(Okay, So Ive been away for a hot minute. And I've been through quite a bit. But I got inspired to write this and I hope yall love it!! Couple of things. 1.) Taylor Swift doesnt exist in this series, the reader is like taylor swift! 2) dont come for me, I've been chewing on this idea for a few months now lol. 3.) Im almost done with chapter 1 of My Alpha, I know I've gotten some messages about that!! Also, half way through chapter 2 of Midnight rain ;) Enjoy! Let me know your thoughts on this!! love you guys!!!)

Thoughts? Suggestions? General opinion wanted here!!!!!

You’d be delusional to think that he wanted anything more than hookups with you. Being a movie star was hard enough to make a “normal” life ...falling in love with your co-star though...that made everything even worse. That’s what led you to becoming a world famous pop star, releasing smash hit after smash hit. Your smile; when up on that stage, tens of thousands of fans screaming your songs as you sang them, standing ovations, tears of happiness, excitement, thrill, it all made that heartache ease just a little bit. But not all the way.

“Tonight is a HUGE night, I can’t believe you’re going to announce another album. I’m in awe, really I am.” Your mom said, grabbing your shoulders and looking at you in the mirror of the room you were currently using backstage. “Mom, thanks so much for traveling with me during this tour. It means so much to me.” you smiled softly at her, “especially after everything I’ve been through recently. Wanna know the surprise songs tonight? Or just be surprised like everyone else?” you asked with a soft laugh.

Your mom and dad were your biggest and best fans you could have ever asked for. Even during the worst time of your life, you’d had your parents support when changing careers. “Awe, let me be surprised like everyone else dear. Your cue is up….come on,” she gave you a big hug and kissed your cheek. “You’re going to be amazing, just like every other night” she beamed before walking out of your dressing room.

You stared in the mirror, touching up your red lipstick before turning around and walking out. Your bejeweled bodysuit in the colors of your most favorite album you’d put out, pinks and blues. You smiled at the stage crew and everyone working behind the scenes as you walked with your assistant. “Another great sold out crowd out there, the VIP tent is dead center, lots of celebrities are here tonight too.” She smiled before you walked away standing on your mark.

Listening to the entrance music you’d had custom made, caused the memories to flood your mind.

You looked over at him grinning as you both reached for a piece of popcorn. “Soooo I thought you wanted to do something else when you asked me to come to your hotel room 10:30 at night.” you smirked as he laughed, throwing his head back. “While yes, I’d love to do that too….I figured it would be nice to watch a movie or two, enjoy a snack and relax together too. I ordered some wine and chocolate covered strawberries too.” he said leaning closer to you, as you bit your lip leaning into him, letting his lips brush yours. The next thing you knew, he had you pinned to the bed, popcorn littering the floor as he kissed down your neck, slowly pushing your shirt off and attacking your chest.

“Ready? Have fun!!” Your assistant shouted over the music and screaming fans as the platform started to bring you up from under the stage. You plastered a grin on your lips and got in your stance with your mic.

The moment your back up dancers pulled back the large fabric fans to reveal you, you began to sing one of your songs. The roar of screams, cheers and cries erupted throughout the entire stadium as you came into sight for everyone. The platform continued to rise as you sang, smiling at everyone.

“It's you and me, that's my whole world

They whisper in the hallway, "She's a bad, bad girl"

Oh, I just thought you should know (you should know)

It's you and me, there's nothing like this (like this)

Miss Americana and The Heartbreak Prince (okay)

We're so sad, we paint the town blue (paint it blue)

Voted most likely to run away with you.”

The music ended as everyone cheered even louder and you laughed softly, the platform lowering back to the mainstage level; you grinned as the next song began instantly. You loved performing for a crowd, they never made you feel like you weren’t worth the love and attention. You strut toward the front of the stage, beginning to sing the bridge, along with the crowd, when a sight almost threw you off your performance. He stood there in the VIP tent with a cold beer in one hand, his other arm around the shoulders of a petite brunette.

“I'm drunk in the back of the car

And I cried like a baby coming home from the bar (oh)

Said, "I'm fine, " but it wasn't true

I don't wanna keep secrets just to keep you

And I snuck in through the garden gate

Every night that summer just to seal my fate (oh)

And I screamed for whatever it's worth

"I love you, " ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?

He looks up grinning like a devil”

You belt out the bridge, the crowd screaming louder toward the end. You tried to not to look at the VIP tent, the urge to see him again, standing there happy with some other girl, you danced around, happily grinning at the crowd, encouraging them to sing along. You finally took a break, smiling wide as everyone clapped and cheered. “Hi!” you said cheerfully. “My name is Y/N and welcome to The Eras Tour,” you grinned as the stadium erupted again.

“I just want to say thank you to everyone who is here tonight and I hope that I don’t disappoint. I usually perform only two surprise songs a night, however, I’m feeling…fun tonight, so I want to add another song to the list for you all. It’s one that I don't usually perform live. But, I hope you enjoy it.” you smiled as the platform rose and you looked around, the soft jazz music starting as loud cheers erupted. You couldn't stop the smile that landed on your face as you began to sing.

“We were crazy to think

Crazy to think that this could work

Remember how I said I'd die for you?

We were stupid to jump

In the ocean separating us

Remember how I'd fly to you?

And I can't talk to you when you're like this

Staring out the window like I'm not your favorite town

I'm New York City

I still do it for you, babe

They all warned us about times like this

They say the road gets hard and you get lost when you're led by blind faith

Blind faith”

You smiled looking around, your eyes landed on him again, he had a look in his eyes, just like how he used to look at you, hunger and desperation for your touch. You put your lips back up to the microphone and made eye contact with him again.

“But we might just get away with it

Religion's in your lips

Even if it's a false god

We'd still worship

We might just get away with it

The altar is my hips

Even if it's a false god

We'd still worship this love

I know heaven's a thing

I go there when you touch me

Honey hell is when I fight with you”

You didn’t mean to stare for so long, but the way he looked at you, watching your body move. You wanted to jump off stage and run into his arms again, kissing him, telling him how in love with him you still were, even after the three years that had passed. You felt a tightness in your chest when the girl turned and kissed his neck, and began to dance with him.

You finished the song not soon after and took a small bow as everyone screamed out. You stood still smiling as the platform began to lower, before diving off to get changed. “I need a minute,” you said as your assistant came up to you. She looked slightly confused as they began to help you into your next outfit. How were you going to continue this concert with him staring at you? You didn’t think you could do it honestly.

“I can’t believe you changed the set list, We’re going to have to cut one of the surprise songs.” You looked at her. “No we can’t but we are changing them tonight.” you said as they did up the back of your dress. “What?! Why!” she gasped. “Chris is here,” you said looking at her as her face fell. “With some girl.” she sighed putting a hand on her head “Jesus fucking Christ……okay. Tell me what you need.” you looked at her again as tears filled your eyes. “I need a fucking minute.” you grabbed the new mic rushing off.

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hoe4sports · 11 months ago

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“My heart recognized you before my mind did”

Caroline Graham Hansen x reader

A/N: No triggers. Rewritten 31st of May. You are a playing assistant coach. Basically a player with more knowledge.

The sun was blaring in the Spanish sky which caused your sweat to pour. It was particularly hot because you weee busy placing the gear you had planned to use this session for the attackers. It looked like something close to the world championship of materials. It devastatingly hot as the Spanish sun was going towards record breaking heat. The attackers came out, all of them looking as ready as ever. You had already analysed them which meant that you knew each of their weaknesses. “Fridolina, Salma and Claudia; group up to the left. Caroline, Mariona and Bruna; group up to the right.” You ordered, and the girls split up eager to see what you had planned for today. “We are doing drills, left to right, up towards east, strike three times, across the field and return. 1-2-3, let’s go!” You yelled as the girls got into action. Caroline caused you to take special notice of her. She was taller than you, and you had read about her. You went to talent camp together as teens. You always thought that she was into girls, but she was very private. Even back then! Nonetheless, she was stunning. Her hands were large, and her rarely shown smile was contagious.

“Alright girls, I want you to group up.” You announced after 15 mins of intensive practice. The girls fell to the grass pacing, trying to catch their breath. “Now, this feeling is what we will feel on the pitch during the last 10 minutes. We are gonna push through it. Watch me, and copy it until I call quits.” You ordered as you did a series of cordinating moves as a ran between poles and over blocks. When you finished the round, you pulled my t shirt off your tanned skin as it was once again, recording breakingly hot. Everyone started doing the exercise, and you started looking at Fridolina while making notes of what she needed support on. You turned around and catches Caroline glancing at you. “Caroline? Are there questions? Are you okay?” You said as the tall girl shook her head and started doing the exercise. You shook yournhead, and started taking notes once again.

Later that day, you spotted her staring at you. In the cafeteria, during the pre-match meeting and during the gym session. You decided that you were over it when you and Ingrid was walking to her car, and you catched her stare again. “What’s her deal?” You asked Ingrid, and she shrugged. “I’m not too sure, she isn’t normally this awkward. “ she suggested and you brushed it off as we got into Ingrid’s car.

Over the next months, this weird thing with Caroline kept happening. You would notice her staring, but whenever you talked to her she would get all stuttery. As she was getting weirded, me and the other girls were getting closer. You were also marking my spot as a playing assistant trainer when Jonathan on multiple occasions had me be a stand in during practice. This caused you to develop a close knitted relationship to quite a few of the girls, but Ingrid, Mapi, Alexia and Lucy were of the closest. Lucy would often flirt with me, and you thought it was hilarious. Over the next 6 months, we grew closer. Like sisters, she would tease you. and you would kick her ass in practice.

After a very particularly hard practice, you were clearing the pitch for equipment as the girls had already headed home for the day. You had turned the music on full and you were listening to “Typisk norsk å være god». It was blasting out on full volume and you felt like you were having the time of your life. It was friday, and you were feeling ready for Lucy’s birthday weekend shenanigans.

“Uhm, listen, Y/F/N-“ a female voice begun but was quickly shut down by your shrieks of horror as your heart went from 50 to 180 in the span of 1 second. “GRAHAM, you scared me!” You yelled as the tall brunette was walking awkwardly towards you, almost resembling a baby giraffe. The girl was rubbing her neck while staring into the grass. “I just, ehm, regarding, you know-“ she stuttered. “Oh my, whenever you are ready” I stated as an ironically looked at my sports watch. “Never mind” the brunette stuttered as she was turning her tall frame and walked towards the warderobe. You could see the girls staring from the tunnel, and you knew that they had put her up to this.

You sighted as you felt forced to try to catch up to her, considering your 38 cm height difference. “Caroline, wait up.” You cooed at her as you were shortening the distance by the second. You catched her as she entered the now empty team warderobe. She sat down underneath her cubby with her name and face printed on the wall with her hands rubbing her knees. You could tell that she was nervous, that made you feel flattered. “Let’s try again shall we?” You said as you sat down on the physio bench in the middle of the room, but still in front of her. She still looked down with her serious face. She always has a serious face, that’s her thing. Stone cold, hard working and dedicated. You dangled your feet on the physio bench as you pointed towards her picture on the wall. “You see that girl?” You started, as she shot a quick gaze towards where you were pointing. “I think she is hard working, dedicated, confident and very passionate.” You stated while staring at her picture in awe as a you smiled lovingly. “Now, what seems to be the issue for this hard working girl?” You repeated. “Strugglig with your right to left transitions?” You suggested. “What, no!” She stated, knowing that you knew that her transitions were always perfect.

“I just-listen Y/F/N. I’m not very good with talking to new people. But I was trying to remember where I have seen you before, because I’m confident that I have seen you but I can’t seem to-“ she said as her speech was picking up the pace. “Statoil talentleir” you smiled as you let out a small laugh. “I remember, who could ever forget those a girl with eyes like the sea during the biggest of storms?” You smiled, and she looked down again as she blushed. You could see that she was hiding a grin, and you smiled again looking back on the memory. “It was around 2012, you were 17. I was around 13. You had your stilly little hairband across your forehead and I pulled it. It smacked your forehead and you had a bright purple spot for the whole camp.” You stated as a let out a chuckle.

The thing was, that you were younger than her. She was 1995, and you were 1999. That didn’t stop you though, as you liked my women older. “Are you going to Lucy’s birthday dinner tonight?” You asked to break the silence as you realised that we were running out of time and you had no intention of missing out on a chance to party. “I’m not sure..” Caroline shyly stated, and you stood up. “Well.” You said as a reached your hand out. “I want you to come, Caz” you said as your new nickname for the tall framed girl slipped. She smiled softly “as you please, coach” she chuckled as her smile lit up the room.

#caroline graham hansen #woso imagine #barcelona women #woso x reader #caroline graham hansen imagine #barca femini x reader #barca femeni #caroline graham x reader

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