#took months to finish bleh

[tacitusauxilium]

((I just feel so unmotivated...and idk why.

I mean I stream because it's given me a consistent schedule compared to RPing--I get on when I have the free time or when motivated.

But, I hate it. I want consistency sometimes.

I wonder if it's because I am going to be starting my period soon? I feel super emotional and needy (like wanting to RP certain things or talk to certain people) and I hate that feeling sometimes.))

[chechula]

Finrod vs. Sauron! Collab with @s-u-w-i that took six months to finish :D Once again I wanted to do some weird composition for this scene. So I googled pictures taken from inside of animal mouths(bleh), to make gruesome Sauron ....and then Suwi made the final sketch since she can draw the cutest characters (and Finrod needs to be cute ♥)

[mediumgayitalian]

heyyyyyyyyy guys i just want to give u a quick update!!

so i have been posting a lot of updates/pieces of longer fics lately. nary a 100 ways or quick oneshot to be seen. this is by design!! i have some time right now. im hearing from a lot of yall that you guys are in your busy season, not online much, but my schedule is weird and may is among my least busy months!! so ive been letting myself start and try to finish some longer stories.

by july i will be Swamped.

last year i actually took a hiatus around this time and it was miserable and i missed writing so so badly. i am going to try to avoid that this time because bleh but i will also be forcing myself not to prioritize this blog over my Actual School And Jobs, so that means any fics i post starting around like....mid june probably (ish) are gonna be pretty short. and things like wip wednesday and fic friday are going to be postponed a couple times (or, at least, posted later in the day, since i will be leaving my house around 730 and getting home at 630 if that. busy days!!)

anyways. i asked you guys for an update and got one, so thank you for that, but i wanted to respond in kind!! if there is something you would really like updated or explored now is the time to tell me. good luck everyone!! i hope things get a little chiller soon!!

[jubileeena]

BEHOLD: MALWARE AU

So. We all know Turbo. He's kind of the flavour of the month right now. He's a horrible little piece of shit and we love him for that!

As a result of a couple posts that I'll link when I'm on desktop (or you can look through my blog its some of my most recent reblogs) and That One Video Essay I got to thinking about how much of Turbo's actions came from his nature, what cropped up out of desperation and jealousy, and what came from the nightmare virus that ate him. Then I got to writing. A lot. And now I have a monster fanfic that might or might not ever get written but I might actually explode if I don't share some of it.

This snippet revolves around Vanellope, mostly, and my continuous ongoing realization that modding/slightly retexturing video games is actually a lot easier than I thought it was. Enjoy!

Prologue

Vanellope hasn't been a part of her own game for 15 years. It's long since figured out how to function around her, but now King Candy's been dealt with via hot cola insecticide and she adamantly refuses to ride in his little vanilla-white kart. Not with her own baby waiting right there for her.

Except the game really really wants her to.

The kart bakery is supposed to be a fun side minigame. The kart lasts until the player stops feeding the game quarters, then it will restore itself to the default kart for the racer.

She's been carefully ignoring the crackling parts of code that bubble up around her when she revvs the engine too hard for days now, telling herself it was just remnants of her own glitch messing with her driving. But right after she crossed the finish line at the end of the final race of that day, it glitched so badly she was left lying on the track as it rammed itself into the boundary.

She'd spent most of that evening moping around and complaining under her breath about the mess her predecessor had left her - - until she thought huh. If Turbo could program his whole throne-stealing butt into the game, why couldn't she just... Slip in and fix her kart?

Sour Bill didn't seem happy at all when she slipped behind the curtain of her throne room (bleh. Needed to redecorate that soon. Way too princess-y for her taste), but he dutifully agreed to stand guard as she followed the instructions on the handy little piece of paper that lay discarded on the floor.

Up, up, down, down, left, right, left, right, B, A, START

Yes! She jumped into the darkness without thinking, entranced by the nebula of nodes and string of information that made the glitch constantly buzzing under her skin sing.

This is what she was meant for. This was why the game kept her around. It loved her.

Her node was easy to find, set in the center as it was with streams of code coming from it. She blipped up to it, and kicked her feet excitedly as she floated in place, and tapped it to enlarge it.

Wow, it really was easy. All she had to do was find her primary kart file, and swap it with the one in the Bakery's subfolder that held the information for her baby, and that was that. No wonder King Boogerface managed to mess things around so much, if what was all it took.

Task complete, she turned around to try and reorient herself to find the exit again, but a flickering node caught her eye.

It was strobing worse than any of the others, and there was no visible text on it to give any clue as to what it could be. She blipped over to it and tapped on it-

Only to be thrown backwards as it quadrupled in size, mangled streams of code now visible through it's translucent surface.

She glitched again to lose her momentum and stop somersaulting through the void, then back towards the code box. She reached a hand inside and flicked her wrist in a movement she instinctively remembered, and pressed confirm when the prompt came up to clear the cache memory.

It spluttered for a moment, then as if expelling a sickness the darkness bled from the body of the node and dissolved into the void, leaving behind a little red code box, smaller and less defined than the rest, connected to everything with only a thin strand but with it's pixelated text quite clear for her to read, and her breath hitched.

Turbo

[lolmeowaj]

pre-travel project updates + sketch dump

As the title implies this post is simply going to be giving updates on my projects before I'm away for 2 weeks, also because I know I haven't posted much in the last month and hence haven't given smaller post updates, bleh. Skip this post if you want.

Mechanical Butterfly - renamed from Mechanized Butterfly on my older posts to make it roll off the tongue better and also a partial reference to this song. I had said in previous post(s?) that this project was going to be a game. Uh well basically this is not happening anymore lol. It's going to be a comic, and the sketch above is for the cover of the first chapter (covers will be in color, pages will be black and white). Anyways before people call me a wuss for not following through because I'm a bad programmer (which I am to be clear). The reason I'm making that change is because as I have developed the plot since I initially decided to make this story back in November, the story has become much more linear, and I think it'll work best as a comic. Now I still really really wanna do a ps1 style game, so making Miriam's model was not a waste as it was good practice. So yeah. I have about 4 pages of script written (which yes is not a lot,,,) but I have more in my head and it will be worked on.

UTYHH - Episode 4 finally released! Yippie! This episode was the 2nd worst to make, with ep2 taking the cake for being the worst because that one had just a shit ton more bullshit going on. However this episode had some issues and hence took like a few weeks longer than it probably would have just due to a lot of people being unavailable. Anyways, the script for episode 5 has been started, it's like 3-4 scenes written of like at least 15. It make take awhile longer than usual because I'm traveling, but I mean there will still be content because Daniel is cooking up other stuff for the series.

My games - So I have like 4 game concepts knocking around in my head, and since I am 'canceling' MB as a video game I don't wanna confirm what I will be working on lmao, I need to learn to pipe down. I will announce what I'm doing next officially once I have like substantial progress. You can take this shitty blender screen cap though.

oh also, I won't say much now because it's not my place to say, but I'm making art for @witchscadence 's upcoming game. It'll be cool. Trust chat. Play her other games.

UTHH redesigns - This is something I really want to return to because while the og Undertale Halloween Hack designs are alright, if I'm gonna be honest I frankly think the redesigns are awful and the Underfell Halloween Hack designs are not much better. So far I've done Mysteryman, Raine, Paz and Nuzzles. A main reason why I haven't done more is because I'm less familiar with the other characters. All I know at the moment is for my Trapjaw redesign is that he is going to have a sort of military theme based off his og design and I'm dropping the whole Xigaurd thing. So anyways. Enjoy my pen sketches

to be clear this isn't me doing a retake of the au, I'm not like THAT up on the lore. I just wanted to do my own designs cause I like doing character designs. I mean I'm the same person who did the Raine redesign and Keiko for UTYHH so I hope that's clear

Other - People may ask why I did not make a drawing commemorating the new Deltarune chapters after I even did a shitty one for the second coming of the Spamton sweepstakes, and uhhh. The answer is I started one based on Elfen Lied's open Lilium. However art block hit me like Asgore's truck. So yeah. Here is the wip, I might finish it.

art block was really my theme the last month and it's why I didn't get a ton finished. I was honestly just very frustrated because I felt my art wasn't looking good, my programming wasn't coming a long as I've never really used a proper engine before now, and lastly we all know I'm very new to 3D art. Also I get very self conscious when I write, so that never helps me. However I took Cass' advice to basically just chill tf out lol. so I took some time to play Catjam and watch Saikano and I felt a lot better (And also Weezer music helped???). Oh and a Catjam play through is coming when I get back. I was going to release it before I left but I'm like 90% sure I accidentally left out a good section of the game so like, because the game is like maybe 3 hours long I'll probably just start over. I'm mainly doing a playthrough to spread the word about the game because it's super underrated looool, please play it. Anyways. Please look forward to the stuff I have coming, I love Toby Fox but I don't wanna be known as just the Toby Fox guy lol.

Misc Sketches that aren't worth putting in their own post-

[witcheytime]

BLEH i wrote a thing

its lowk really rushed but this is chapter 1/2, plz be nice ive never written a fic before : )

https://archiveofourown.org/works/67360024

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

for non-ao3 users heres the written version

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

Summary:

Pangi in season 7 seems... differnt to his fellow lifestealers.. like somthing has changed, pangi now wears a charm bracelet with a lilyy and a cornflower... but refuses to talk about why he wears it. Pangi seems to be missing something or someone. Then after 5 months of being in season 7, pangi is plucked roght out of lifesteal and reuinites with some familar and some not familar faces, but one seems to be missing... and its the one pangi misses the most

Untill I found you CH 1/2

Pangi is alone, he has a team this season of lifesteal unlike the last, but he cant help but feel like something is missing. The other lifestealers who came back after the realm dont remember, which Pangi honestly thinks makes it a bit easier, he doesnt know how he would handle the others knowing what he went through, especially after that day.

That day, Lukey didnt respawn.

Pangi did end up working with Aimsey and Water after that. Even through it all they managed to corner bad one day and shoot those cure arrows, and later… did manage to “cure” Pili, even if that cure meant that he slowly withered away without the corruption to sustain him. After curing Bad and Pili, Pangi barely managed to build the orbital canon. It was only due to Water constantly telling him that she was GOING to help and Hannah making sure he got up every day to work on this project… and reminding Pangi that this was pangi and lukeys plan and what better way to honour him than blowing up the world that took him away.

The explosion was beautiful, Pangi couldnt lie, but it didnt feel right. He has hannah and Water next to him sure… but the one person pangi really wanted right at his side… wasnt.

Within a day of the canon going off, Pangi followed the plans lukey had told him to use, he gathered Hannah, and even Zam (even if zam was mad at him), and they managed to find a way home. Going home is what Pangi wanted….. Right? As he later found out… Zam didnt remember the realm, neither did Hannah or Clown… they had lost their memories of time spent there and some days… this made pangi feel as if the realm was just a dream, a figment of his imagination….

There was only thing that convinced pangi that his life on that godforsaken server was real. A charm bracelet that aimsey had gifted him before the canon went off which held 2 charms, a pure white lily of the valley and a cornflower. Pangi arrived on season 7 wearing it, pangi didnt know how this one little object managed to transfer servers… but then he also thought about a certain black cloaked figure who called him “dear”

Zam notices that something about Pangi is… different, the Pangi he remembers holds an open heart, even after Deraps betrayal.. Pangi had never been this closed off before, especially to Zam. The odd behavoirs didnt seem to make sense, the way Pangi had stared at the lily of the valley that Zam placed in a flower pot, almost longingly. And how when Zam had gifted him a cornflower, the same shade of his eyes, He could see Pangi holding back tears. Pangi never explained when he asked about why Pangi had such an odd attachment to those flowers… but it made Zam think of the odd new bracelet that Pangi seemed to hide. One day the two of them had a picnic where they made flower crowns… once Zam had finished his one of poppies and daisies, he noticed the crown of wither roses his orange friend had crafted, all he could notice was how Pangis face held a wishful but melancholy smile and murmured under his breath, almost too quiet for zam to notice “he wouldve looked so stupid wearing this”.

Pangi always shrugs off whenever he gets questioned about his so called “odd behaviour”. He refuses to open up his heart again so soon after the heartbreak he endured. Its easier for him to say hes fine… maybe if he keeps saying it… one day he’ll believe it himself.

Keeping himself closed off becomes much much harder when one day, 5 months into lifesteal season 7, Pangi who has stopped to talk to 4c and Woogie about his next video idea, vanishes, Pangi feels disoriented, and immediately is rushed with a million different emotions at once. He's only felt this way twice before.. On his way in an out of the realm. Once the sun stops blinding him, he looks around at this new area hes in…. And that feeling he had.. He cant give himself hope that hes back there. But that hope sparks back the moment Pangi sees a purple haired girl wearing farmers clothes walk up to him, and its crushed when she speaks. “Hi, Im Ros!, whats your name?”.

Pangi quickly realizes with every person he meets, they dont.. remember him, thats until foolish and aimsey come up behind him, aimsey doesnt seem to know who he is… but Foolish gives him a knowing smirk. He is glad to see his old? New? Friends again, even if most dont seem to remember him. Aimsey is brighter and seems to carry less baggage, but is also still the same aimsey who is friends with seemingly everyone, and this Ros seems more sure of herself, stands up taller, but is still the kindest person hes met on this new? Realm so far.

The first few days spent on this new realm are busy, introducing himself to new and old faces, he ends up teaming up with Aimsey, who even if doesnt remember Pangi, he cant help but trust them intriinsicly in some way. On the third day, Pangi insists that he and aimsey need villagers for their new base, a small (for now) cottage in a pale garden. (pangi doesnt feel the need to mention or acknowledge to himself that the monochrome nature of the biome didnt give him a weird comfort in a way.

Pangi makes his way to the nearest village, only about 500 blocks away, situated on a river, and goes to collect some beds for their to be built villager breeder. After hes picked up the 3rd bed, Pangi freezes.

He hears a voice singing, but that voice… it couldnt belong to someone who pangi hadn’t seen for 7 months, who he mourned for 7 months.. He had shut away his hope after not seeing any signs of him in the last 3 days in this new realm. The more he listened, the more hope secretly grew in Pangis chest.

Pangi quickly ducks around the corner of a village house as the voice gets closer, and he cant help but try to grab a peek at this person singing, he needs confirmation, cant let there be hope and then be disappointed. What he sees when he peaks around the corner of the house nearly takes his breath away, either from sheer panic or joy.

[noxether]

Summer / Spring "news from beyond"

This is a cross-post of my latest article from my neocities blog, Queer of Swords, which you can find here. Find out all about how I've been doing, all the games & zines I've released since February, and what I'm currently working on under the cut!

(Tumblr messes with the formatting so I do recommend clicking and reading it on the blog.)

Hello everyone!

And thank you Tootkin for giving me the title of this blog post when I asked them, "how do I say 'this is all I've been up to since last time' in one English word?" :p

I've been meaning to blog, to journal, to answer my letters-- but I haven't taken any time to sit down at all in the last few months. Part of it was simply not having the time, running around putting out fires due to our relentless lack of funds. I also... did... so. much. stuff.

In no particular order:

I started making zines!

I made a zine on HOW TO BREW A NICE CUP OF TEA for the "How To Run A Jam" in early April. I am very proud of it. I think it's very informational. I'm working on a second issue on growing your own herbs for herbal tea!

I made a COMMISSION ZINE for Tootkin's art in late April. I am incredibly proud of it. I think it slaps. I think it looks really cool. Absolute magazine spread behaviour right here. I love it so much.

I CAN'T FUCKING TAKE THIS ANYMORE, a sleep-deprived, angry zine for the Insomnia Jam in early May. I think it's a very earnest and poignant piece and I'm very happy with it, even though it feels a little illegal to be so sincere and use swear words in the title.

I released three pieces of micro-fiction for the Neo Twiny Jam 2025 in June. Each is written in a different engine, and each is under the jam's limit of 500 words.

A QUIET EVENING is a cute, domestic piece inspired by my life with Tootkin. I enjoyed playing around with the Dendry engine, which I would LOVE if it didn't miss, like, two features I really need and don't know how to code. This one only took like three hours, don't we love when it goes like that!

A FEW STEPS (UP THE HILL) is an atmospheric, immersive piece inspired by my daily walks in nature. I made it in a day or so with Ink, which was fun except the editor crashes when maximized, which makes it useless for me. It took longer because I struggled to remain under the limit, ahah.

VERY RESTRAINED SUMMER FUN is a tired, dehydrated piece straight up inspired by trying to survive the heatwave. Made with Twine, which is probably the IF engine I will stick with for now.

I sank countless hours banging my head against RPG Maker MV after noticing it was gathering dust in my Steam library. I learnt so much about this experience, one of which being I probably won't be making RPGs or any sort of games with RPG Maker MV. Hopefully I can recreate my "vision" for this little game test later.

When I was too tired to work on anything specific but couldn't just stay still, I also spent some time trying to learn lua, playing around with Solarus or Defold. I really want to like Solarus, but there's no binary of the last version for Linux, I failed to compile the sourcecode myself and even using stupid workarounds (using the Windows binaries through Steam) I never got any answer to my issues on their git. Bleh.

I worked so hard and tried so, so hard to get four Godot narrative games off the ground. Those projects aren't abandoned, per se, and they all feature the same sort of mechanics, so once I will be able to finish one it will help the others tremendously. But they're all stuck because I can't seem to make any of the Dialogue or State Machine part to work yet, and it's so overwhelming and depressing to even think about. I feel so stuck. I don't know what to do, and for now I'm very happy working on other things.

MICE LIFE is too ambitious, too big, and means too much to me. It's a "A farming life sim where rodents and other little creatures live in harmony with the land and each other, focused on anti-capitalist, community-building practices." I want all the things from farming games, and things like befriending NPCs allow you to ask for their help on your farm. I want an overarching plot, I want so many things with those mice. I got so overwhelmed trying to write the GDD back in February and decided to scope down, which gave us...

DANDELION'S TEA, a cottage life sim with dating elements which took over most of my March. Garden and forage your way through NPC's narrative arcs, brew potions, blend tea, and do not decorate your house because that sounds way above my skill levels. This was a cute attempt at "scoping down" while exploring ideas I hold dear, but eventually it proved too overwhelming.

LITTLE LADS' CHEER-UP SQUAD was my and Tootkin's project for Ludum Dare Jam 57 in early April. It's a very simple game, using very cute store-bought assets. Your friend is having a bad day, so you work with other NPCs to cheer them up by talking to people and fetching a few items. I thought doing the LDJ would be a good idea, a way to get out of this "start projects but get overwhelmed after three weeks" rut. I also thought the scope was small enough, but we really struggled with the dialogue manager. We tried several Godot plugins, and we simply couldn't get any to work properly before I started panicking about...

HADES INTO SPRING, a walking simulator of sorts, a very personal piece on change, transition, and depression that I really, really, really wanted to submit to Game Poem Magazine. The submission window for the first issue closed on June 15, and in the month and a half leading up to that I tried SO HARD to get it done. I knew what I wanted to say, but I would sit down and the writing would not happen, at all. Tootkin wasn't available to help me with the code, and everything was just too much. There was too much pressure-- to try and make it into a magazine, a regret from my fiction-writing days; to tell a story that matters so much too much. I couldn't do it. Eventually, two weeks or so before the deadline, I realized I didn't want to. It mattered so much to me-- ten years ago. I was struggling so much to make it happen because I was clinging to the dreams, hopes and regrets of someone I wasn't anymore. I stopped trying so hard, moved onto other things, and let the deadline gently pass me by. I still want to tell this story, but I think I need to tell it on my own terms, at my own pace, and for no other aim than to tell it.

LOUSTIC'S GARDEN is a puzzle game with farming elements which I am currently developing with Tootkin's help in PICO-8. Eventually, something had to give, and it seems that LOUSTIC's tiny scope, the limitations of the PICO-8 fantasy console and Tootkin's obsession with puzzles as well as background in programming... are all aligning like the stars and allowing slow but steady progress on the game. I have been posting weekly Screenshot Saturdays over on my brand-new sideblog for all things games and zines related. This is what I would consider my "current WIP".

AN APRIL'S WALK is a piece of interactive fiction which takes the reader on a long Spring afternoon walk in the countryside. It's literally A FEW STEPS, but much longer, without the constraint of the Jam, and with the explicit goal of self-indulgently recreating some of my favorite places. Progress is a bit slower than I'd like, but that's due to being too tired to write these days.

I was also starting my transition. Blood tests and doctor's visits and almost immediate lifestyle changes, some more expected than others. (I. am. so. horny. All day, every day. Doesn't my body know I have stories to write and games to make?! I do not have the time!)

I also made a lot of social media posts & graphics to help Tootkin promote their work, since their commissions are our only source of income at the moment. I am very happy with the ones I did for their LiberaPay as well.

And we made a lot of progress regarding "making this house a home". We moved in in a rush three years ago and it's been so rough. The house belongs to my parents, who live on the same land, and our relationship is painful and bittersweet at best.

There's a part of me that simply cannot live here, even though I utterly adore the land, the dale, the forest, the little streams, the hill. Saying good-bye to this place would free me and tear me apart; either way, we cannot afford to move, and so we've been working at making ourselves more comfortable. It's a slow process, but it's a process. We'll get there.

Anyway! The main message of this post is supposed to be how I've been doing so much but I'm actually not okay. I'm not okay at all! I can't afford anything, at all, ever, that's not strictly necessary. I'm terrified of not being able to afford to eat. I feel stuck in my life, even though I'm transitioning and learning and creating every day.

I don't know what I need, I'm too scared to want anything. I can't sit down to journal or answer my friends' letters because if I do, there is just SO MUCH emotioning and feeling happening, and I don't have the time or the tools for any of that.

I do not want to live my life in grief and in anger and in pain anymore-- I think I have spent too many years brain-fogg'd, kept in place by anxiety, mindlessly browsing Reddit or Tumblr, zoning out in front of social media. I have spent too many hours tearfully talking about the trauma on Zoom or on therapist's couches. I am so, so done crying and processing and all that shit... and I still have so many fires to put out, so many crisis (every interaction with my parents is a crisis), and like, I think that's fine.

I think I'm not in an introspective time in my life, and maybe that's allowed. I don't need to be healing all the time. I want to do things, now! The urge to create, the need to exert my agency on something, anything has been so strong and life-sustaining. So, for now, I am rolling with that.

I feel like I should wrap up this blog post with some sort of conclusion, but nothing comes to mind. Thank you for reading! See you next time!

[shadow-coolness]

Lor: This is a parody, official release, support DC Comics!

[Cut to a space ship landing near a farmer's home]

Farmer: You're an alien!

Halk: I'm an alien.

Batman: Am I an alien?

Halk: doubtful. Where's my brother?

Batman: I don't know.

Halk: Then you're useless to me! [flies away]

[Super Souls!]

[cut to Clark and friends on the beach]

Clark: I have a kid!

Jon: I'm socially awkward.

Jimmy: He's adorable!

[Jimmy gets bitched m through the Kent House and the owned counter goes off the scale]

Halk: I'm here for my brother!

Clark: Am I your brother?

Halk: Yes!

[Shookness ensues]

Halk: I'm taking your son.

Clark: No, you're not! [gets Kneed] Ah, he took my son!

Batman: I'm here to help you.

Clark: Aren't we enemies?

Batman: Nobody read Pre-Crisis. Let's go!

Clark: Are you insane?

Batman suddenly in a straightjacket: Hells yeah!

[they catch up with Halk]

Clark: Gimme back my son!

*Unzipping noises*

Clark: Gross.

Booster Gold: HA HA!

[one battle later Clark has Halk in a full-nelson]

Clark: Batman! Get him!

Batman: Convenient Kryptonite Spear!!

[the spear pierces the brothers]

Announcer: DOUBLE KILL!

Clark: And now I am the dead bleh.

Jimmy: Oh, no! Clark’s dead!

Lor [through the transmitter]: Hey, Non, let's go to Earth.

Non [through the transmitter]: Ballin'.

Jimmy: Oh, no! More Kyrptonians!

Batman: I'm taking Jon! [flies off with Jon]

[cut to Wild Cat]

WC: Hi, maggots. I'm training you. I'm old and overly violent, but I'll never say it flat-out.... BA!

Jimmy: AH!

[cut to Batman teaching Jon]

Batman: DODGE! [kicks Jon]

[cut to Clark in the afterlife]

Cutlass: YARRRG!

Clark: Who are you?

Spectre: Im the Spectre. You now know the KryptoKen and the Solar Bomb. Fuck off, Shut up Cutlass.

[cut to Batman and Jon]

Batman: 12 months have passed! Let's go fight Kryptonians!

Jimmy: Oh, God, it's the Kryptonians!

Lor: Hi.

Jimmy: Ambush's here!

[explosion]

Jimmy: Ambush’s dead!

Lor: Non, get 'em!

Non: I am hilarious and you will quote EVERYTHING I say.

Jimmy: Steel, get 'em!

Steel: I am the only serious character in this comic. That is the joke.

[everyone except Jimmy and Jon get wrecked]

Jimmy: Oh, God! Everyone's dead!

Non: Hilariously derailing one-liner.

Superman: Supe's here!

Jimmy: Clarks here!

Lor: It's over nine thousaaa---

Non: AHHHH--

Lor: aaaaaaa-----

Non: AHHHH---

Lor: aaaaaaaa--

Non: AAAHHH---

*They continue screaming until Lor kills Non*

Non: LOR, WHY!?

Lor: Because I'm a lizard!

[Lor transforms into a giant lizard monster]

Clark: Kyrpto-Ken!

Lor: Kyrpto wha-?

[gets his tail cut off and reverts back to normal]

Lor: Oh, no! I'm not a lizard! OH, NO! The kid's a lizard! FLAMEBIRD FINISH!

Jimmy: The FUCK?!

[Lor cuts off Jons tail]

Lor: Yay! [the giant lizard body of Jon falls on him] No!

[Lor gets crushed]

Lor: ...Leaving now. [takes off in a space ship]

Superman: And we'll never see him again!

Lor [in space]: They'll see me in the next issue.

[Ghost Non pops up]

Ghost Non: And I'M a ghost.... Or AM I?

[SUPER SOOOOOOOOOO-]

[Cut to Peter Parker who was reading this]

Peter: .... This has HOW MANY readers?

[softsky-daily]

6/1/2025

There's a softness in the sky this pride month.

Positive thing: My friend got me fries, and I made her laugh (unrelated to the fries).

I unfortunately had an awful headache for most of today, probably because I didn't get enough sleep last night (I blame Kimi Ni Todoke). I had good food and water and took a Tylenol so I did my best to make the headache go away, so I'm sure it would've been worse if I hadn't done all that. Still, bleh. Headaches suck.

On the plus side, I got some house applications done today too. There's two places we really like, so hopefully one of them will let us in. It'll be nice to be in a new place soon. I think everything will get better from there once we move too. I'm looking forward to being able to lounge in the living room, and cook more, and put my figures on display... Maybe 2025 can still be a good year.

Tomorrow is back to work and I really don't wanna go. My job isn't even hard at all, I just want to sleep in and enjoy the house being empty for a bit. At least in the evening I have plans to start a Jdrama with my friend now that we've finished Kimi Ni Todoke.

[slenbee]

I haven't been excited in such a long time.

So let me tell you guys a story.

Note: This is not an ad nor am I sponsored by this company in any way this me rambling about a vitamin that really worked for me when nothing else has, and I wanted to share in case anyone might wanna look into it <3.

Back in 2017-2018 my Psychiatrist prescribed me a 'food drug' aka a 'vitamin' called Enlyte for both my depression and ADHD symptoms.

To quote Enlyte's purpose from their website:

EnLyte is an FDA regulated medical food, specifically formulated for the dietary management of Major Depressive Disorder. Additionally, it is an excellent option for patients with ADD/ADHD, women's mental and reproductive health concerns, and those struggling with addiction. Its unique formulation addresses the biochemical needs of these conditions, making it a versatile solution for targeted nutritional support.

Putting the rest under a read more, it got long, 💀sorry.

Back then, for me, Medicaid covered Enlyte without cost.

When I took it for the 3-4 months that they did cover it? I felt good.

Like, really good. I had more energy, I could think more clearly, the brain fog wasn't as intense, and I could focus. After a week or so I found myself actually pushing myself to exercise because I wanted to, because I had a goal I wanted to achieve. Which- trust me, as someone with executive dysfunction, was really, really hard to do.

Like I wish I was bullshitting you guys and making up a story about this being some "miracle product", but I genuinely felt better.

I lost 50lb's in that 4 months with both Enlyte and the help of Wegovy samples, and I can honestly say it was one of the best moments of my life. Because I could wake up every day, take my meds, then a few hours later I felt good enough to set myself a task and do it.

Then, medicaid took it off its formulary, and never added it back.

Now, no matter what evidence my doctor gives my insurance to prove I have a b-12 deficiency, they pull the 'wellll we have no evidence she doesn't do well on the shelf brand b12 vitamins so... denied. 🤓"

So, fast forward to this year, 2025. Two visits ago at my Psych doc, I spoke to him again about this. We tried to push Enlyte through again since it's been a few years. But to no surprise, it got denied, again.

For me it's been a constant Ouroboros of "well we have no proof of x " -gives them proof- "well.. we have no proof of y not working. Try that." -gives proof- "well.." and the cycle never ends...

Which is when he told me that, sadly, the only way to get Enlyte, or rather a vitamin like it, would be to go to their manufacturers online store. So he write me down a link. (don't rush and click finish reading first lol.)

Their creators also sell 2 other vitamins: ENL and EnBrace HR.

ENL is a cash only option of Enlyte, but EnBrace HR, their "supplement for women™️" version, can be RX or cash only too.

Here is the ingredients for Enlyte, EnBrace HR, and ENL in that order: I linked their pdfs too if anyone wants them :)

If you look real close.. They are all the exact. same. thing.

Which leads me to why I'm excited.

EnBrace HR, is running a deal for 60 vitamins for $60.

Which is a GREAT deal if you want to get more bang for your buck. The original price of Enbrace from their online store is $52 a bottle.

Now you may say: But Enbrace HR says it's for women and I'm-

My guy.. It's.. the same thing as Enlyte/ENL. It's... just the label.

If you're in any way interested in it, the 60 for 60 is 100% the way to go here. Why pay 52$ + the shipping for like 65-70$ when you can get two for one. If it doesn't work then it doesn't work, but a deal's a deal, y'know?

BTW, Enlyte itself? The cash option? If insurance didn't cover it?

Is really freaking expensive. 💀💀

But yes! If you have ADHD and/or depression and still feel kinda bleh after taking your meds and normal b/b12 vitamins don't work, if you've got the cash to spare, I'd really suggest trying this.

Just note the following allergy warnings:

Excipients: Annatto, gelatin, glycerin, olive oil, yellow beeswax, sunflower lecithin, citric acid, purified water, and nat. creamy orange flavor. Contains fish/soy/krill. GLUTEN-FREE, WHEAT-FREE, DAIRY-FREE, SUGAR-FREE, NO ARTIFICIAL DYES

My package arrives today and I'm so, so excited you guys.

My partner bought some too, and I will totally make a follow up post to let everyone know how things go with us both. :D

[whentherewerebicycles]

NOT to pile onto the pessimism of the day but I'm an advisor at a CC and we just collapsed academic advising and career advising into one category...and while I understand the need to have a single point of contact for those services, it also has created this dynamic where I Have to bring up career readiness at Every Meeting and it's like....some of these kids short out at being asked to choose an elective! We Have to be able to start with the small questions and not make them dive into the big questions before they're ready.

Relatedly, we're supposed to be on a caseload model so that we CAN track along with our students from start to finish and we DO have the opportunity to build genuine relationships with them. But in practice our leadership has shuffled our caseloads three times in the past three months and the students get an automated email every single time and it has created SO much chaos and confusion and discomfort for them. It's so tiring.

oof!!!! my college is culturally + demographically much closer to a CC than anywhere I’ve studied at or worked before and I have been wondering if the intense focus on career readiness is part of those baked-in quasi-vocational school norms. not sure how to articulate that exactly except to say that at yale you are implicitly encouraged to explore your passions and expected to pursue a well-rounded liberal arts education (like everyone took art history or shakespeare or political theory or whatever because those are markers of an Educated Person in that sphere). whereas at my current school the language is all about career tracks, professional pathways, professional skill development… idk I’m certainly not saying you have to be immersed in The Great Works of the Western Canon to receive a good education!!!! I just think there’s much less value placed on taking a wide range of classes and exploring different fields and wayyyy more of a sense of, like, get your shit sorted early so you can get out of here fast and into the workforce.

and again I GET that this is not all coming from the institution itself—it’s also like, the time you spend in college is time you are shelling out $$ on credits while also cutting back on hours you could be working at a job, so of course there is more pressure to make that time “pay” in some more tangible way. that’s a shitty reality of living in a country with no social safety net. but also idk!! I just feel like yeah collapsing academic and career advising into one category at CC or CC-adjacent public institutions is such a perfect encapsulation of this frustration lol. is higher education’s highest purpose to funnel people into the workforce?? but also isn’t this just the age-old debate about the value of a liberal arts education etc etc. and then idk you’re right that students very often aren’t ready to make those decisions so early because they are typically coming to us from underfunded and understaffed public schools where there likely wasn’t a lot of space or resources dedicated to exploring one’s interests. so they pick the career or major that they have heard of, and then we put them on a career track and that’s the kind of advising they get forever. idk!!! feels a little bleh!!!!

[pluralsword]

this was really relatable to us apologies beforehand OP but this really spoke to our robot aft so;

legit been thinking for many months about adding a disclaimer to our instant messaging app profiles (and if we ever using dating apps again) that says "Don't ask me out unless you're willing to read EXRID or even just Best of Arcee plus having carefully considered the full meaning IDW1 Arcee's wiki page and that essay we wrote that one time" because literally only one person (who we're still friends with) out of more than a handful did that latter step (not specifically for this reason but it came up) and that was most we felt like someone understood us and could respect our boundaries and desires in retrospect, save for us wanting her to be able to love herself and accept that people care for and think well of her (this has gotten a lot better from what we can tell).

finding a succinct way to put that on a shirt honestly is tempting for another reason after dealing with a probable chaser cis guy recently who could not take the hint on us mentioning how much we liked the transfeminine narratives in transformers and it took outing ourselves as "sapphic/enbian" (this is just living and breathing) and plural (more difficult but in the space we were at the time not really) + a gal friend of ours (bless your heart dear pal) showing up and us lighting up to say hi to our friend for him to take the hint and he left immediately without saying goodbye or a word when I said bye. which combined with the fact he had tipped off knowing I was trans earlier in a weird way that made me wonder why would you ask me to come out for a smoke if you know it's unhealthy for me my guy kind of told me that he um well was not interested in respecting me. this is the third chaser we've dealt with so far in our life bleh.

I mean. I already looked like I was out in that peak 2010s undergrad degree queer showing who I am and what my neurodivergence is through pins kind of way?!!? How do you look at someone with a pin of Anode/Lug embracing + Greenlight/Lancer together not to mention various other gals (Aileron and Arcee included) and a lesbian colors Arcee and conclude 'this insert slur trans gal is primarily interested in cis men or evenly bisexual and I should totally try to follow up on this when it's very clear you're trying to leave to go home' at a transformers convention (the kicker is he did not know much about transformers so he was what. there to pick up trans women since somehow that deep cut of a takeway that transfems like transformers was disjointed from why?) lmao? lmao. lmao! its funny in retrospect but also absolutely ridiculous and concerning.

Maybe when we finish our EVA back stacks we'll have to write trans4trans on them to shoo people or something but we already know that in itself isn't enough

(note also to please not do this to straight/androphilic transfems either okay even if transness is why you're attracted it shouldn't be for fetishizing transness reasons you need to consider the full scope of what acting on attraction entails and thus value the needs and desires of the other person rather than have their worth be contingent on sexualization)

very beautiful art of gabriel btw

Gabriel in leather

[gally-hin-phantom]

HC: Dan deafeated Pariah from his timeline and ate his core. He didn't know it but rightly won the title and become King, King of a kingdom where everybody feared him. Then when the timeline disappeared, King of a fallen kingdom with no subjects. When the Pariah from the present timeline return; Dan, trying to help and save the friends & family he made on his redemption journey, was able to summon a sword, the true symbol of the Ghost King, only able to be raised by “pure hearts”.

The shadow of a dark crown and ring proudly fogged above his head and around his finger.

xxx

I guess I can realism haha 🥴, ty my friends for bullying me to try & their help

Dan will still stay abrasive and kind of an jerk, but he has now family and friends to protect, who accepted him and love him (the Fenton Squad, his best bro Fright Knight, Plasmius a bit, Clockwork…). This is why he was able to raise the sword.

xxx

Dan is scared to love again and attached himself; creating bonds again. When he sees love or affection he got scared and flees, because he isn’t supposed to love and he isn’t supposed to be loved, it isn’t supposed to feel good or right.

He told himself that he is supposed to bring destruction and hate, not having loved-ones. He is supposed to be a monster, not a friend. He is supposed to be alone, not be surrounded and accepted. He isn’t supposed to be forgiven, and should remain alone, always alone.

Dan sometimes is agressive, borderline mean and cruel toward who he cares about, so they would resent him and leave him alone. Not long ago he would have been able to kill them, to be left alone, but now he can’t anymore and it’s terrifying him that he can’t kill some people anymore. He is terrified to care.

He is afraid to love people, but craving it as well. He is afraid to lose them and be left alone again.

[windfighter]

Goodbye Breakfast

Prompt: Failure

------

Kouichi stared at the plate Kouji put on the table. It was certainly… some kind of food? There was rice mixed in with vegetables and… raisins? Kouichi tilted his head. Poked it with the chopsticks. An eye looked at him and he covered it with rice.

”...What is this?” he asked.

”Breakfast!” Kouji said and grabbed a plate for himself.

”I mean… what kind of food?”

It didn’t really look like any kind of food Kouichi had encountered. Maybe risotto, but far from how tasty risotto looked when Izumi made it. Kouji shrugged.

”Cooked some rice, added some proteins to it. Always gotta make sure to have a balanced meal.”

Kouichi looked at the suspected raisins and his stomach cramped.

”What proteins?” he asked.

Kouichi wasn’t sure he wanted to know. Kouji raised an eyebrow.

”Fish.”

Fish wasn’t bad, but there was nothing in the mush that looked like it. Kouichi poked around with his chopsticks again. Izumi stopped by the table and gave Kouichi a quick hug.

”I’m off to school”, she said and kissed his cheek.

”You don’t want breakfast?” Kouji asked.

Izumi looked at the plate infront of Kouichi and shook her head. Kouji took a huge bite out of his own mush.

”I’ll eat something on the way”, Izumi said. ”See you two later.”

She waved good bye. Kouichi turned to the plate again and gathered some of the mush in a pile before trying to grab it with the chopsticks. He hesitated, then put it in his mouth.

It tasted… It definitely tasted, he could admit to that. He had to force himself to swallow and his stomach did not approve of the food. It churned. He glanced at Kouji who had already finished half his plate.

”Have you ever cooked before?” Kouichi asked.

Kouji looked at him like he was stupid.

”I lived on my own until a month ago.”

”But did you cook?”

”Of course I cooked. I don’t have a job, I can’t afford take out every day.”

Kouichi’s stomach protested again and he put a fist to his mouth. Swallowed. Kouji went back to eating and Kouichi also took another bite.

The second bite was somehow even worse than the first. Kouichi’s whole body tensed up, his stomach threatened to empty itself before he even swallowed. His eyes teared up and the food wasn’t even spicy. He stood up.

”Need to use the bathroom”, he forced out.

His voice sounded tense even to his own ears. Kouji tilted his head and Kouichi ran away. He made it to the bathroom just as whatever it was Kouji had fed him forced itself up. He fell to his knees, leaned over the toilet and threw up.

Weirdly enough the food tasted less horrible on the way up. Kouichi could not understand how Kouji had survived on his own for two years.

He heard Kouji’s steps but didn’t feel like getting up from the floor into a more dignified position. Kouji leaned against the doorframe.

”Are you sick?”

”Poisoned”, Kouichi complained and pressed a hand against his stomach. ”You’re never making food again.”

”There’s nothing wrong with my food.”

Kouichi gestured at the toilet, his stomach churned and he threw up again. Kouji winced.

”Okay, there might be something wrong with my food. Or with your stomach.”

”Buh-bleh”, was Kouichi’s eloquent answer.

Kouji at least tried to look sympathetic to Kouichi’s ailment. He patted Kouichi’s back and smiled.

”I’ll get you a glass of water.”

Kouichi sighed, dried off his eyes and nodded.

”Water would be nice, thanks.”

He pushed himself away from the toilet and leaned against the wall instead. He looked at Kouji.

”You are banned from the kitchen though”, he said.

”Yeah, yeah. I get it”, Kouji answered.

He left and returned with a glass of water. Kouichi’s hand trembled as he accepted it. He rinsed his mouth, spat the water out into the toilet and finally flushed the remnants of breakfast away. Kouji’s shoulders fell and he sighed.

”I just… really wanted a nice moment before I left”, he said and sat down next to Kouichi. ”Sorry I ruined it.”

”You’re leaving again? You just got home!”

”I got home two months ago”, Kouji corrected. ”There’s literally no jobs for me here, everyone requires either university degree or that you’re a university student. If you want me to help with rent I have to go do my thing.”

Kouichi sighed. Kouji grabbed the glass from him.

”Where are you going this time?”

Kouji shrugged. Kouichi never liked how there was never a clear plan in Kouji’s travels.

”I was actually thinking about staying in Japan this time. Head north as far as I can go, see where the light takes me. I’ll probably be back before you even miss me.”

Kouichi snorted. He felt a little better now when the weird food was out and far away from him.

”I’m leaving in a couple hours”, Kouji continued.

Kouichi felt cold all of a sudden. A couple of hours was far from enough time to say goodbye. Kouji shoved him and he realized another issue.

”...I leave for school in one”, he said.

”I know. I hate goodbyes.”

Kouichi sighed and nodded.

”Did you pack already?” he asked.

Kouji nodded as well and Kouichi stood up, offered a hand to Kouji. Kouji laughed and stood up on his own.

”Let’s watch an episode of Attenborough’s Life-series”, Kouichi suggested.

Kouji nodded again and left the bathroom. Kouichi flushed the toilet once more, just for the sake of it, before going to the kitchen and getting a sandwich. He heard Kouji start the television and went to join him in the living room. Kouji smiled at him.

”Sorry I got you poisoned. I’ve… never cooked for anyone else since the hamburger-competition.”

Kouichi snorted.

”And you’re never doing it again”, he said.

Kouji didn’t protest. Instead he started the episode and Kouichi sat down in the couch next to him, ate his sandwich. It tasted a lot better than Kouji’s risotto.

[redgillan]

Under Pastel Skies - fin

Sugar daddy!Bucky Barnes x Reader

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

Word Count: 6,800

Warnings: Mutual Masturbation (non explicit), Hallmark Movie Cheesiness 

A/N: I’m am SO sorry it took me months to finish this. Also there’s a tiny bit of sexy times (it’s non explicit and put between two ‘*’ for those who want to skip it) but just a heads up. I can’t remember who said I should name Bucky’s book under pastel skies but thank you ;) I want to thank you all for reading this series, it has been really fun. I’m sad it’s over but hopefully I can add an epilogue and I got several requests for this series so it’s a good bye, not an adieu ♥ 

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

Summer was Bucky’s least favourite season. He despised the heat, the sunburns and mosquitoes, the sweat running down his temples and back. He was always tired, never hungry, and he hated feeling so... bleh.

But most of all, he hated the expectations that came with summer: enjoying the sun, reuniting with friends and family, soaking up the extra hours of daylight, being happy. It felt like an obligation.

Summer with you was Bucky’s favourite season. He loved the way you squinted against the sun, your face bright and happy and your lips glossy with sorbet. He loved those lazy afternoons spent at the pool and he definitely worshiped your summer wardrobe.

You had found a part-time job at a renewed museum. You often said that it was boring and tiring but your colleagues were nice. You were still visiting galleries from time to time but you weren’t actively pursuing a career as a professional artist.

Bucky spent most of his time in his office, finishing up his novel. He was really anxious about it, and he hoped his little surprise wouldn’t blow up in his face. He had everything planned. His uncle had been delighted when Bucky asked if he could use the bookstore for a reading. It would be a private reading, just the two of you after the shop closed.

Now he just had to ask you out...

Bucky climbed the stairs two at a time to your floor, a bouquet of flower in his hand and a smile on his lips. You had invited him over for dinner, which was a bit unusual because you had to work the next morning, but he wasn’t complaining. Far from.

“Bucky,” you giggled sheepishly when you opened the door. He bought you flowers every time he saw you. It didn’t matter that your studio apartment now looked like the back room of a flower shop, he liked the way your eyes softened at the sight of the pretty blooms. “These are stunning.”

He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Takes one to know one, sweetheart.”

You good-naturedly rolled your eyes before you waved him into the room. “Come in, I made dinner.”

Your apartment smelled of marinara sauce and spaghetti boiling in hot water. It was a comforting smell, a smell that reminded him that he wasn’t alone.

You didn’t have a proper table, the apartment was too small for that, so you ate on the breakfast counter. Bucky didn’t mind eating side by side. He liked the way you turned your body to face him, your knee touching his. It felt intimate.

“I have something to tell you,” you said, closing the door behind him. He watched you bounce around the room like some excited puppy dog. “I haven’t told anyone yet.”

His forehead creased into a deep frown. “What is it?”

You pulled something out of your bag and hid it behind your back before you took a step closer to him. You were unable to meet his confused gaze but he found it so endearing that he started smiling.

You handed him a postcard-style flyer with a shaking hand. It was a mini print of one of your paintings along with the logo of a gallery in New York. He turned the card over and read it, his eyes instantly brightening. It was a flyer for an art opening.

“Angel,” he said, his voice full of emotion. “You did it!”

You chuckled bashfully. “It’s a collective exhibition. They gave me half a wall and a corner of the engraving table.” You raised your eyes to his, your bottom lip caught between your teeth in a way that managed to be both shy and sensual. “Will you be there?”

Bucky placed the flyer on the kitchen counter and took a step closer to you. “Will I b-? Of course!” he exclaimed, taking your hand and kissing your knuckles. “I’m so happy for you.”

“I couldn’t have done it without your help.”

“I did nothing,” he replied, shaking his head. “It’s all yours and you deserve it.”

With a little laugh, you pulled him into a tight hug. You wrapped your arms around his middle and pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose. He hugged you against his chest and watched as you played with the lapels of his shirt.

“Do you think,” you started timidly, your eyes glued to his chest. “Do you think I can introduce you as my boyfriend?”

“Oh, my angel,” he chuckled lowly. “You think we’ve waited long enough? Am I allowed to kiss you now? Because let me tell you, sweet angel, I’ve been eager to taste you all summer. Didn’t help that all you ate was ice cream and sorbet. You know I have a sweet tooth.”

“You’re all talk,” you said with a grin before you curled your fingers around the lapels of his shirt and pulled him down to you.

He smiled against your lips and pressed his hand against the small of your back, pulling you flush against him. You shivered when his hand trailed up your side, his fingers grazing your breast over your clothes. You leaned your head back enough to break the kiss and audibly sucked in your breath.

Bucky cupped the side of your face, planting one last kiss on your parted lips. “My girl.”

With a breathy laugh, you let your head fall onto his shoulder and soaked up his warmth, his love, before you took a step back.

Dinner went well, albeit with more sexual tension than you’d both anticipated. He stole several kisses from your tomato sauce-covered lips, praising your cooking skills.

You touched the pendant at your throat and traced the tiny gemstones with the pad of your middle finger.

“It drives me crazy when you do that,” Bucky admitted with a chuckle.

“Really?” you replied, a tentative smile on your lips.

“Mhm mhm.” He nodded and licked the creamy remnant of ice cream off his spoon. “Looks real pretty against your skin. I like seeing you wearing it.”

Watching you smile down at your pendant made his chest burst with protectiveness. You bit your lip but couldn’t hide your smile. He leaned sideways and kissed your cheek.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered in your ear. “Especially when you’re wearing my necklace and nothing else.”

You tilted your head to look at him. The tension between you became so intense that he could hear you breathing hard, and without thinking he pressed his lips against yours. His hand came up to your face and you took the opportunity to climb into his lap, desperate to touch him.

You grabbed a fistful of his shirt, kissing him roughly. He could taste the ice cream on your lips, your tongue cool against his own. With his arm around your waist and a bit of your help, he hoisted you onto the counter.

The empty bowls, plates and glasses fell to the floor, shattering loudly but you didn’t care. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he gently lowered you down onto the counter.

*

He kissed his way down your throat to the dip between your collarbones where the pendant was. He felt himself harden against you when you stirred against him, moaning. You pulled him down for a kiss and blindly reached for his belt.

“Condom?” you half moaned against his lips.

“Shit.” He sagged heavily against you and buried his face in your neck. “Fuck, shit! I don’t have one. I didn’t think we’d-”

“That’s okay,” you cut him off. “We can either cool down or... get creative.”

With a breathless chuckle, he started to run his hand down the length of your body. “I might have an idea.”

You squeezed your eyes shut in anticipation when his hand slipped between your thighs. Bucky looked at you, paying close attention to your movements and the sounds you made.

Your head thrashed from side to side, your breathing erratic. You gripped the edge of the counter with one hand and slapped the other against his chest, your back arching off the counter as you moaned his name.

He had never seen anything more beautiful than you; lost in your pleasure, brow furrowed, eyes fluttering shut. He almost reached his peak with you, untouched.

You lay there with your mouth open and took a series of short ragged breaths, filling your deprived lungs with air. After a minute, you tried to sit up but your arms were too weak to support you.

You let out a loud, frustrated groan as you tried again. “I think you killed me.” You held out your arms to him. “Help me up.”

He wrapped his arm around your waist and helped you into a sitting position. After another long kiss, you ran your hand over the front of his jeans, smiling wickedly when his breath hitched.

He looked down at your hands as you started unbuckling his belt. He knew you could feel the tension in his stomach, the anticipation.

“You don’t have to-”  

“Shh,” you whispered, kissing his cheek. “Do you want me to?”

“Yes. God, yes.”

You slipped your fingers under the elastic waistband of his boxers and Bucky hissed. Your fingers were cool against his heated skin but he silenced your apology with a kiss.

He didn’t last long. He couldn’t; not when you were whispering filthy things in his ear, or playing with his earlobe, sucking it gently then biting it harshly. You were all he could feel, all he wanted to feel.

You chuckled softly when his legs buckled under him, your free arm coming around his waist to keep him upright. He slammed his hand down on the counter, grunting like a beast in pain. He moaned your name, repeated it like a prayer as he reached his peak.

With a tired laugh, he slumped forward, exhausted, and kissed your forehead before he drew several long deep breaths. He tucked himself back into his boxers, pulled his jeans up and buckled his belt.

*

“That was...” He didn’t finish his sentence, choosing instead to grab the back of your neck and pull you in for a kiss. You chuckled as you returned his kiss. Bucky drew back and bowed his head, resting his forehead against yours.

“Looks like we won’t do the dishes today,” you said, looking down at the broken ceramics and glass. Bucky followed your line of sight to the broken pates before he burst into laughter, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

The next Thursday, Bucky was getting ready for your art opening. Sam and Natasha had flown from D.C. to see your first show, though you had no idea they were coming. Your sisters and brother were already at the gallery waiting for them.

The street was quiet when Sam, Natasha and Bucky arrived at the gallery. A few people were standing outside, smoking and talking. As they walked up to them, Bucky glanced through the window in hopes of finding you.

It was only seven but the gallery was already busy, packed with people milling around, laughing, drinking, and talking. His ears started ringing and he had to stop to take a deep breath.

“You okay?” Sam asked, concern colouring his brown eyes. Natasha paused too, her hand still clasped in Sam’s. They turned to the crowd then looked at Bucky with sympathetic eyes. He had grown paler and his skin looked shiny with sweat. “Is it too much?”

Bucky couldn’t see you but he knew you were inside. You were waiting for him. He couldn’t miss your first show, he simply couldn’t. He tried one of his breathing exercises, working with this nervous energy instead of letting it consume him. He tightened his grip on the single sunflower he was carrying and straightened his spine.

“I’m good.”

“If you need a minute, we can wait here.”

“You look very sharp, Bucky,” Natasha replied almost immediately, a warm smile on her lips. “She’ll be thrilled to see you.”

Sam wanted Bucky to be comfortable but Natasha understood that it wasn’t going to happen. Bucky needed reassurance; he needed to know that everything would be fine, that you’d be happy to see him.

“Yeah?” Bucky asked, seeking validation in his friends’ eyes. “Yeah, of course. C’mon, let’s go.”

Inside the gallery, they were greeted by a cute twentysomething who gave them a rundown on the gallery and the exhibition. She had more energy than a puppy and spoke incredibly fast. They smiled and nodded politely, though their eyes kept wandering around the main room looking for you.

They managed to quietly escape when another group of people entered the gallery. As Bucky looked around the room, he felt a little overwhelmed. A couple of women were speed walking amongst the guests, an urgency in the way they moved that contradicted with the smiles on their faces.

“Find her and I’ll get us something to drink,” Sam said, raising his voice to make himself heard over the chatter. It really didn’t help Bucky’s anxiety.

Natasha and Bucky made their way through the throng, trying not to bump into people. Natasha waved at someone across the room and Bucky recognized your sisters and their partners. Scott was there too, carrying a half-asleep little girl.

Natasha looked over her shoulder when he didn’t follow her, then smirked knowingly and jerked her head in the direction of the crowd. He’d say hello later, right now he wanted to see you.

The gallery was designed in a u-shape with a patio at the centre. From where he was, he could see the engraving table, the bar and the door that led to the patio. Candles were lit in the patio, climbing roses and jasmine elegantly concealing the cracks in the concrete walls.

And there you were.

You were standing amongst a group of older folks, listening to their stories. The woman next to you exuded confidence and she seemed to enjoy being the centre of attention.  

Seeing you didn’t suddenly make his anxiety disappear, it didn’t make everyone around him vanish into thin air, but he still felt ten times better. It kept him grounded because he knew you were there for him.

A smile spread across Bucky’s lips as he observed you. You were smiling politely at the woman next to you, then let your eyes wander around the room as if you knew someone was watching you. When your eyes finally met, your whole face lit up and you quickly excused yourself.  

“You’re here!” you exclaimed, wrapping your arms around him. He raised his arm, making sure you weren’t crushing the flower, then returned the embrace. “Thank you for coming.”

“I hope you don’t mind, I brought a couple of friends who are die-hard fans of your work,” he said, kissing your temple.

You pulled back slightly. “What? Who?”

“You’ll see,” he replied with a grin before he handed you the flower with a flourish. “A sunflower for my sunshine.”

You rolled your eyes at the corny line but your smile was shy and happy. You carefully tucked the sunflower into the top buttonhole of your blouse, then gave him a kiss. He smiled against your lips, enjoying this moment when it felt like it was just the two of you.

“Hey listen,” you said, your hands framing his face. “I know there are a lot of people here tonight, so if you need to leave or take a break-”

“I know,” he interrupted you, a smile on his lips. “Thank you for always looking out for me.”

“That’s what angels are for.”

He laughed softly and placed a lingering kiss on your forehead before he let you go. He’d been to several events like this one, he knew it was only a matter of time until someone dragged you away. After all, it was a networking event.

“This place is great,” he said. “But I haven’t seen your work yet.” He held out his hand, palm upward, and you bashfully looked at your feet as you took his hand. “You’re cute when you’re flustered.”

You simultaneously buried your face in his shoulder and smacked his arm, making him laugh. “It’s a sales technique,” you quipped, leading him across the room to where your family was waiting.

“Well, it’s definitely working on me, beautiful.”

“Oh, no! You’re not allowed to buy anything tonight. Your apartment already looks like a museum.”

“The one above my bed is my favorite,” he continued with a grin. A little shiver ran through you at the memory, and Bucky couldn’t help but feel proud of himself. He pulled you closer and whispered in your ear. “Do you remember the night we made it? You and I, naked, covered in paint, making each other feel so fucking good.”

“Bucky,” you whined, trying to wiggle out of his embrace. “I can’t think straight when you say things like that.” He chuckled lowly in your ear. “People are staring at us.”

“Let ‘em. They came to look at art, uh?”

You good-naturedly shook your head at him and rolled your eyes, your expression one of annoyance and amusement. Bucky had become a bit of a flirt since the two of you started dating, and he loved riling you up in public.

You opened your mouth to speak when your eyes darted toward something behind his shoulder. “Nat?” You looked at Bucky, your eyes wide and filled with unshed tears. “You brought Nat!”

“And Sam,” he said with a nod. “They’re a package deal now.”

“Sam’s here too?” you exclaimed.

Bucky watched you powerwalking toward your friends and family. You wrapped your arms around Natasha as tight as you could and she pretended to gasp for air making your siblings smile fondly at the two of you.

“Thanks for not inviting me to your first big gig, doofus,” Natasha said as she pulled back. “You’re lucky your boyfriend had my number.”

“I didn’t want you guys to come all the way here on a Thursday,” you explained. “You all have your lives. I don’t expect you to drop everything to see my art show.”

“We live in D.C., not Mars,” Sam said, appearing with two glasses of champagne. He handed one to Natasha before he greeted you with a one-armed hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Besides it gave us an excuse to take a few days off work. We’re staying until Sunday.”

You looked away, uncomfortable. “Guys, it’s not that big of a deal.”

“Newsflash, it is,” Scott said, having heard your conversation.

“And we’re all incredibly proud of you,” Okoye added.

“You accomplished so much,” Wanda agreed, raising her own glass in a toast. The others raised their glasses high, clinking them together in the air before they drained them dry.

“I’m really glad you’re all here,” you said, sagging a little against Bucky’s chest. He wrapped his arm around you and kept you close. “It means a lot. I love you all.”

One of the interns popped out from behind Bucky, interrupting the little reunion. She walked over to the wall and placed a little red sticker on the label under one of your paintings. She turned around and congratulated you on your first sale, making everyone explode into cheers and applause.

“If you have a moment, the buyer would like to meet you,” she said.

“Oh, yes, of course!”

When you turned to him, Bucky saw the worry colouring your beautiful eyes. He smiled tenderly and cupped your cheek in his palm, his thumb grazing your cheekbone. “Go, it’s your night.”

He pressed his lips to yours before he let you go. You worried your bottom lip between your teeth, a nervous habit Bucky had seen you do a lot in the past few months. You touched the pendant around your neck and smiled.

Before you left, you gave Natasha a sharp look –which could only mean one thing, ‘take care of him for me’- and she replied with a firm nod. It made Bucky grin to himself as he gently nudged you toward the intern.

The rest of the evening went by in a blur of soft classical music, loud conversations, and laughter. Bucky spent most of the evening sitting on the patio talking with Sam, Vis, Scott and W’Kabi while the girls were chattering cheerfully next to them.

He preened whenever you introduced him as your boyfriend to gallery owners and art collectors. You mentioned that he was a talented writer, even though it was supposed to be your big night.  

“Are you writing anything at the moment?” someone asked him.

“I have a book coming out soon, hopefully,” he said, brushing it off with a wave of his hand. “But that’s not why I’m here tonight.”

“What is it about?”

“Oh, Bucky’s incredibly secretive,” you answered for him. “He wouldn’t even tell me.”

Bucky tuned out the rest of the conversation and decided to watch you instead. You were too engrossed in their story to notice his intense eyes fixed on you.

He decided that he’d take you to his uncle’s bookshop after the party.

He did a quick mental checklist to see if it was feasible; he had the keys to the bookshop, he knew the alarm code, and the back of the bookshop already had chairs lined up in rows from a previous author reading. The only thing missing was his book but he had a copy at home and Sam owed him a favour anyway.

It was getting late, several people were standing next to the engraving table but the gallery had emptied enough to really look at the paintings on the walls.

It was a beautiful, cosy place when it wasn’t overcrowded with guests.

Your siblings had left about an hour ago. Sam came back from Bucky’s apartment with Bucky’s book hidden under his coat, acting like he was smuggling candies into a movie theatre. They left soon after.

“Hey,” Bucky whispered in your ear as he wrapped his arm around you from behind, tucking you against his chest. You were standing alone in front of your paintings, the distant sound of voices and laughter came from the other side of the gallery. “Everything okay, angel?”

You hummed under your breath and tilted your head back so you could kiss the underside of his jaw. He felt you relax against him.

“They’re closing up soon,” you said. “But I don’t want tonight to end. Can I stay at your place?”

“The answer’s always yes,” he replied, making you laugh. “We have to make a quick stop somewhere first.”

“Where?”

“You’ll see.” A minute passed before you turned and wrapped your arms tightly around him, squeezing hard enough to make the air whoosh from his lungs. He let out a surprised laugh and held you close to his chest. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

“Nothin’,” you said, your voice muffled against his chest. “It was a really good night. I think I’m feeling a little emotional.” You pulled your head back to look at him. “Thank you for asking Sam and Nat to come. I really needed that.”

“That’s what good boyfriends do,” he said with a grin.

You laughed. “I love you.”

Your blunt admission made him blink. Hard. The words had left your lips so easily that the weight of their meaning hit him like a lightning bolt. He stood there frozen, unable to move, unable to speak.

You laughed softly. “Earlier tonight I was upset that my mom and Pietro couldn’t be here. It was supposed to be the happiest day of my life and I wanted to cry. But then I saw you and I knew everything would be all right. I know we’ve only been dating for a couple of months but we’re known each other for almost a year and... I’ve loved you since you took me to that charity event at the Museum of Natural History.”

“Angel,” he said in a choked voice. He pressed his lips together, then tried to say your name.

“It’s okay,” you said, cupping his face. “You don’t have to say it back. I know you love me. You have the most expressive eyes I’ve ever seen. You can’t hide anything.” He laughed, the sound raspy and wet. “No one has ever looked at me like this before.”

“You’re-” he paused and swallowed the lump in his throat. “You’re everything to me, y’know that?”

“I know,” you said, smiling tenderly at him.

His book felt heavy in his pocket, a reminder of all the things he wanted to tell you. He smoothed his hand over his pocket and looked over his shoulder but the remaining guests were too engrossed in their own conversations to pay attention to you.

“Come with me,” he said, holding out his hand.

You placed your hand in his and let him lead you out of the gallery. You both stepped out into the street laughing and feeling lighter than air. Bucky hailed a cab, opened the door for you and climbed in.

He gave the driver the address and settled back into his seat, his attention on you. You looked at him with incredulity mixed with amused curiosity. He leaned closer to you and rubbed his nose against yours, making you laugh.

When the cab stopped, Bucky looked out the window, surprised to see that they had already arrived. You let out an incredulous chuckle next to him, probably realizing that you’d spent most of the ride kissing.

“A bookstore?” you asked, watching Bucky walk over to the crisscrossed metal security gates. “Well, too bad it’s closed. Then again it’s almost midnight.”

“That’s not a problem.”

The gates made a loud screeching noise as Bucky opened the store. He punched in the security code and waited until the light turned green to turn on the lights. You slowly walked into the bookstore, a dubious look on your face.

“Are you sure we’re allowed to be here?”

“Technically, no,” Bucky replied with a cringe. “But I have the keys, don’t I?” You levelled an assessing gaze on him. “It’s my uncle’s bookstore,” he finally relented. “He gave me a key for emergencies, and sweetheart, that’s one hell of an emergency.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “You’re smooth, Barnes, but I’m not spending the night in jail.”

He laughed. “You’re no fun, angel.” When you didn’t seem convinced, he added, “We’re good, promise.”

You raised your eyebrows and puckered your lips into a doubtful grimace as you began browsing through the shelves. Bucky reached into his pocket and pulled out his book, cradling it protectively against his side.

“I bet you used to work here,” you said, your back turned to him and your head tilted to one side as you read the titles.

“You’re right.” He glanced down at the book in his hand and traced his thumb along the gold lettering. “I worked here with Steve. We were saving up money to go to Nepal.”

You paused and looked over your shoulder at him. “To climb Mount Everest?”

Bucky made an affirmative sound but he was took busy looking at the book in his hand to notice that a worried look had crossed your face. You walked to him and touched his cheek, trying to coax his eyes back to yours.

“I’d go through all of this again,” he said, blue eyes boring into yours. “Just to spend a minute with you.”

“Don’t say things like that,” you whispered, hiding your flustered face in the crook of his neck. He tilted his head to kiss your crown. “Are you going to tell me why we’re here?”

He took a deep breath and you slowly pulled back from him. “We’re here, angel, because... well because I’m an idiot who can’t express his feelings, at least not out loud and definitely not in an intelligible way. I thought I’d sit down and write it down but it got away from me.”

He raised the book in his hand as if proving his point and let out a derisive snort. You cocked your head, trying to understand.

“I called it ‘Under Pastel Skies’ because that’s what you remind me of,” he said, looking down at the cover. “Clear, cotton candy skies. Bright and colourful, soft and beautiful, and with that ethereal golden hue that makes you believe in Heaven.”

“Bucky,” you tried, your voice coming out thin.

“Will you come with me, please?” He offered you his arm and you looped your hand around the crook of his elbow. You didn’t try to take the book from him and you were oddly silent next to him. He sneaked a glance at you but he couldn’t make out the expression on your face.

He led you into the backroom, where several rows of chairs had been set up in front of a lectern, and walked you down the central aisle.

“You want me to take a seat?” you asked, glancing around the room.

“Please,” he whispered and pressed his lips against your forehead.

You sat down willingly, though you kept wringing your hands. For a brief moment, Bucky wondered if he hadn’t made a terrible mistake. He had no idea how you were going to react to his book, and it hadn’t really hit him until now that his book was filled with extremely personal information.

He never mentioned your name, your siblings or your mother, but he did share more than he had intended. With his heart in his throat, he forced himself to walk over to the lectern.

“Thank you all for coming today,” he tried to joke but his anxiety made him stutter. “I see that we have a full house tonight.”

He briefly glanced up at you, sitting all alone in that big room, then looked down at his book.

“Mmh, so,” he cleared his throat, “usually when you speak in front of a large audience, or an important audience, they tell you to start with an anecdote. It’s supposed to put everyone at ease, it’s supposed to break the ice, but I, uh, I think we know each other quite well.”

Bucky became acutely aware of the beads of sweat running down his armpit, sending an uncomfortable chill through his spine. He wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand and cursed when the book immediately closed itself.

“I’m,” he let out a small laugh, “I’m sorry, this is what happens when you only have one hand.” It took a few tries to open the book again. His fingers were trembling so much. “I’m a little nervous,” he acknowledged with a cringe. “Here we go!”

My name is Bucky. I have been writing for years and my faithful readers know me as Grant Thomas, a sarcastic and witty writer who makes fun of his own struggles, but in real life, I’m just Bucky. According to my friend, I’m a sourpuss, a fun killer, and I guess that’s fair. I’m not as charismatic as I used to be.

Meeting new people can be a scary thing, especially when you’re a one-armed brooding machine. I carry a lot of emotional baggage. Sometimes it feels like everywhere I go I have a backpack strapped to my chest, filled with notebooks containing undisclosed information about me.

I met my angel at a bar. She was wearing a tight orange-red dress, her lips the color of blood; she looked like she was about to sell her soul to the Devil. I was the Devil. And I knew I had to leave before I could taint her with my darkness.

I saw her outside the bar while I was hailing a cab. I don’t know if she followed me or if she wanted to leave but I was drawn to her. Her shoes didn’t match her dress. She was wearing an expensive-looking dress but her shoes were old and scuffed, most certainly loved, and spattered with flecks of orange and blue paint.

It dawned on me that blue and orange have nothing in common but they do look good together. I shared a cab with her that night.

Bucky turned the pages until he found the chapter he’d been looking for. He didn’t look up, too afraid of your reaction. He continued.

The first holiday we spent together was Liss, our made-up holiday around Christmas time. Liss is an old English word, it means comfort, happiness. I remember feeling particularly happy. I had opened up to her. I felt close to her. I told her things I’d never told anyone, not even in my books, not even to my best friends, the men who’d saved my life.

Everything is so natural with her, so easy. She challenges me and I like to think I challenge her too. She makes me feel at peace, she understands me. She’s my friend, my companion, my soulmate.

And as I sat on my apartment floor, covered in tinsel, laughing so hard my cheeks hurt, I realized I was falling in love with her.

At first I struggled against this feeling. In all honesty, I’m not a model of emotional stability. I have a compulsive need to clean when I’m stressed, I label things and put them into boxes instead of dealing with my problems, and I simultaneously crave and loathe the comfort of my everyday life.

As someone once pointed out, I’m not boyfriend material.

It doesn’t matter if the person you love is a friend, a family member or your partner; when you love someone, the last thing you want is to smother them with your darkness. I’m lucky enough to have friends who never gave up on me.

Bucky quickly flipped over the pages until he found what he’d been looking for. He knew you were there and he knew you were watching him but he couldn’t meet your eyes. He lowered his head, his heart hammering in his chest.

My angel is nothing if not strong. She cares so deeply for the people she loves that she puts their needs before her own. It breaks my heart to know that she gave up, not only her dreams, but also her comfort and independence.

Sometimes I watch her from the living room while she paints, her brush strokes quick and confident, or slow and delicate. She is talented; entire worlds spring into life under her fingers.

I love the way she squints at the canvas, the tip of her tongue sticking out of her mouth in extreme concentration, a paint brush behind each ear. Her posture is awful and I know I’ll hear her joints crack when she finally stretches. The sigh that comes with it makes me smile.

I won’t go into the details of her artistic journey, but like most artists, she’s plagued with self-doubt. Inspiration, like happiness, is a fickle thing, and sometimes they are tied to one another so intricately that the knot can never be untied.

I gave her a necklace; a gold pendant in the form of a palette. It took me weeks to find the perfect charm, something that would remind her that even if inspiration fails her, she is still an accomplished, talented artist.

She was born with a paint brush in her hand and her skin is dotted with multi-coloured freckles.

I want her to be happy.

Bucky closed his eyes and took a steadying breath as he finished reading these lines. He raised his terrified eyes to yours and words failed him. He could see tears streaming down your face and a little frown between your eyes.

He set the open book upside down and started to move toward you when you pushed yourself off your chair and rushed to him. You buried your face in his chest and he wrapped his arm around you, relief washing through him.

“My love,” he said, now tenderly stroking your hair. You brushed your tears away and sighed. “Is it too much? Do you want me to stop?” He pulled back and met your eyes. “Are you upset? You don’t need to worry, I’ll never publish this book if it makes you uncomfortable.”

You turned your body sideways and touched the book, your other arm still wrapped around his waist. “No, I- I just wasn’t expecting it.”

“Do you want me to keep reading?”

“Yes, please,” you said softly.

Bucky chuckled under his breath and pressed his lips to the top of your head. He shuffled the two of you closer to the lectern and cradled you against his chest, kissing your hair, before he turned the book over. You tightened your hold on his waist and played with your pendant.

“I love you,” he said, dipping his head slightly to meet your eyes. The words came so naturally that he realized he wasn’t afraid to share his feelings anymore. You deserved to know you were loved. You reached up to caress his cheek and repeated his words back to him.

The moment I saw her, I knew I had met my soulmate. I don’t mean it in a romantic way, I didn’t fall in love with her at first sight, but despite our brief and awkward first conversation, we clicked. I knew I could trust her.

She knows how to bring me back from the darkest corners of my mind. I am myself with her, flaws and all. She’s patient, kind, and understanding, and the best part is, I know I bring her similar comfort. It’s as if we’ve always known each other, as if we’ve carried each other’s fears in us all our lives, not knowing what it was.

She doesn’t treat me like I’m fragile, but she’s careful. She took care of my scars, a look of intense concentration on her face. I almost blurted out the three words I’m so desperate to say. I love you. But I chickened out, too scared, too insecure. Our first kiss brought tears to my eyes. She held my hand and took me to her studio, and I knew, right there, that I would love her for the rest of my life.

I only ask one thing: let this book live. Crack its spine, fold the corners of the pages, write in it, stain the pages with your tea or coffee or your wine, let it be a coaster, and then give it to someone you love. It will look a bit rough and damaged, like me I guess, but it’ll be worth something to whoever wants it. I can understand the appeal of a well-worn book. When it bears the marks of our everyday lives, reading it feels more personal. So please, do not handle it with care. Hold it close to your heart and let it live its best life.

Bucky let out a long sigh as he closed the book. There was a moment’s silence between you as he cradled your head, his lips resting against your temple. Slowly you untangled yourself from him and reached for the book.

“To my angel, this book is my heart,” you read the epigraph. You turned to him, tears in your eyes, and a wave of panic hit him. “When you said you had an idea for a new book, I asked you if I could be in it,” you said with a little laugh, “Do you remember?”

“I do.” He laughed along with you, then his voice took on a serious tone. “I never intended to publish it, you have to know that, I just wanted you to read it but I was so... I don’t know, so in love with you that I wanted to shout it from the rooftops.”

You looked down at the book and bit your bottom lip to keep from smiling. “I really don’t know what to say.” You raised your eyes to his face. “Can I keep it?”

“Yes, of course. And if there’s anything you don’t feel comfortable with-”

“I’ll let you know,” you replied with a coy smile. “But I want people to know our story. I want to live forever as your angel and maybe, in a hundred years, someone will read this book and they’ll know the love we had for each other was real.”

He hadn’t realized he was crying until you wiped away a tear with a stroke of your thumb, the action so delicate and sweet it made his breath hitch in his throat. He closed his eyes, causing more tears to fall down his cheeks.

“Because after this, Bucky Barnes, you’re stuck with me forever,” you emphasised the last word and Bucky chuckled.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, angel,” he said, claiming your lips in a searing kiss.

- the end

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[the-witty-pen-name]

The Nanny Pt. 1

Lee Bodecker x Nanny!F!Reader

18+ 

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, implied age gap (reader is in her 20s), cursing, Sandy and Carl being bad parents, 18+ content in later chapters 

Summary:

Based on this Request: The reader moves to Meade/Knockemstiff while answering an advertisement for a nanny in the paper. We learn that the ad was posted by Sandy, who has the reader watch her child whenever she and Carl leave to do their secret thing. After one of these trips, Sandy and her husband never return, so the reader is left caring for their baby. With the new investigation into these events, she meets Sandy’s brother Lee, the older, out of shape, alcoholic bachelor, and they are suddenly thrown into each others lives as he begins looking into his sister’s disappearance. Through it all, Lee starts to fall for her, and they slowly become a family.

A/N: Here is the first part of my newest series and I want to thank the anon who reached out to me with this idea! 

If I missed anything I should include as a warning that I missed please let me know!

Taglist Form is in my bio and should be updated to now to include this fic! (If for some reason it isn’t working send me a message and I’ll make sure you’re added!!)

“Damn it, Sandy, can’t you handle that?” Carl yells from his dark room as the baby starts crying again.

“Fuck you, Carl,” Sandy shouts back, hurrying to put out her cigarette before heading to the nursery.

Their little girl was just about a year old, and neither one of them knew what they were doing. Carl was incredibly indifferent and despite her honest attempts at motherhood, Sandy’s maternal instincts never kicked in like she thought it would happen. Carl was annoyed that it cut into their time they would be on trips. They weren’t able to photograph models with the baby on the road, so he’d been itching to get back on the road.

“Is she hungry?” he shouts back, not even bothering to take his eyes off of the most recent photographs he had been developing.

“I just fed her!”

“Then why is she crying?”

“Fuck if I know,” Sandy shouts back exasperated. She scooped up the baby from her crib and started to rock her back and forth in her arms. Sandy also tried burping her, humming a little lullaby she made up on the fly… no luck. She walks around the house with the baby on her hip, trying to rock her back to sleep.

“We haven’t able to get back on the road in a year,” Carl says, clearly frustrated.

“That ain’t purely my fault,” she spits back, “Takes two to make a baby, Carl.”

“Fuck I know,” he groans, “But I need new inspiration. If I take one more picture of nature…”

“If she’s such a hindrance, pay for a damn sitter like I suggested months ago,” she counters.

“We can’t have no stranger walking around the house Sandy,” he points out.

“Just keep your damn room locked, it’s not a huge deal,” Sandy sighs. “Besides, no one is gonna snoop around if you pay ‘em enough. You damn well produce your own incriminating evidence; you should always have that room locked anyways.”

“We only have to worry about your damn brother,” Carl points out, “We hire a fucking sitter that’s two people we need to worry about.”

“You’re just to goddamn cheap to hire somebody,” Sandy states, moving back towards the nursery, the baby now snoring softly.

“You know what? Fine,” Carl says defeated. “But you’re in charge of putting the ad out and hiring somebody.”

“Thank you,” she says in a sing song tone, happy she got her way. But the moment of quiet that follows is short lived as they baby starts crying again.

“Please for the love of God can you just take care of that?” Carl yells, and the argument circles back to the beginning.

You had sat in the small dinner in the corner booth hunched over the newspaper and nursing your now cold cup of coffee. You had just arrived in Knockemstiff and were looking for work. “Any leads?” Julie asked as she topped off your coffee. Julie was your roommate. You had found her the same way you were currently looking for a job. You must have answered at least ten terrible Roommate Wanted ads until you had found Julie. The two of you now share an apartment- the top floor of a three-family owned by a sweet older couple.

“Thank you,” you say without looking up from scanning the ads. “Maybe this one?” You say pointing to one of the ads. She looks to see her manager stepped out for his smoke break before sliding in the booth across from you. You slide the paper over to her and she reads the ad out loud.

NANNY NEEDED Knockemstiff, Ohio

Couple that travels for work in need of a nanny for one-year-old daughter.

Temporary live-in position for several weeks at a time. Pay negotiable.

Call Sandy Henderson at the below number.

“I can sublet the room temporarily while you stay there,” Julie offers. “It’s a pretty vague offer,” she continues. “I wouldn’t commit until you call and speak to that Sandy woman.”

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll need to be interviewed,” you agree. “What kind of people are comfortable just leaving their baby for weeks at a time with a perfect stranger?”

“Paul is still out back I think,” she chuckles, “I’ll let you use the wall phone.”

You take a seat at one of the stools at the counter, and she dials the number for you and then passes you the receiver. You mouth a thank you and she waves her hand in dismissal as she heads over to take someone’s order.

“Whaddya want?” the woman on the other end answers abruptly.

“Oh, I’m calling about the ad in the paper regarding the nanny position. Is it still available?”

“Oh, shit. I’m so sorry, hun,” the woman says, now in a much nicer tone. “Thought it was my brother calling. Yes, it is, and we need it filled as soon as possible. When are you available?”

“For an interview?” You ask.

“Yeah,” she says mumbled, like she is dangling a cigarette from her mouth. “Can you come today?”

“Oh, wow. Yes, I can,” you reply.

“Great, um, you got a pen? Take down this address.”

About two hours, a change of clothes and a cab ride later, you were standing outside a house towards the end of town. It was a little run down, but what building in this town wasn’t? You were a little nervous of course, but it was also the most unconventional way you have gotten an interview. Part of you was relieved, because the woman on the phone sounded real, not phony, but the circumstances still made you uneasy. Julie had the address and said you’d call when you got back to the taxi dispatch.

“Welcome, welcome,” Sandy smiled, opening up the door for you. She had one hand on the doorknob and one of the cutest babies you’d ever seen in the other. “Come on in, make yourself comfortable.”

“Who is this?” you coo, leaning down to the baby’s eye level. “She’s darling.”

“This little sweetheart is Valerie,” Sandy smiles, passing the baby to you. “She’s so well-behaved. Hardly ever cries.”

“She’s adorable,” you smile, as the baby cuddles up close, resting her head on your shoulder. “I didn’t properly introduce myself on the phone. (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

“I’m Sandy,” she introduces herself. “Please take a seat on the couch, get comfortable. I hate things that are so formal. Bleh.”

You take a seat on the couch, and readjust the little girl in your arms so she’s sitting on your lap and her back is resting against you so she is supported.

“So, my husband and I are on the road a lot, usually,” she begins, “We took some time off when we had Valerie, but we really need to start working again, you understand.”

“Of course, what do you both do?” you ask politely.

“We’re photographers,” she beams, “Mostly nature and landmarks- which reminds me! We have a darkroom in the house, but that door will be locked when you’re staying here. We don’t want any damage to any of the negatives we have stored in there you understand. Everywhere else in the house is yours to explore! And of course we gotta spare bedroom you can call your own.”

“Fair enough,” you joke.

“So, tell me about yourself, honey,” she smiles, crossing her legs in the armchair where she sat.

“Well, I just moved here a few weeks ago actually,” you begin, “I just recently finished school, and now I’m looking for work. I just got my degree in early childcare from the state college.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” she says with a clap of her hands. “So, you’re local?”

“Yes, I live in town.”

“Excellent! We’d also love for this to be like an on-call thing as well, you know for date nights and things like that for times when we’re home. Like for a few hours here and there. And of course, we’ll always live money for groceries or whatever you need on top of your pay for emergencies incase Valerie needs formula or diapers or anything.”

“Perfect,” you smile, surprised how well the conversation was going. Sandy was easy-going and nice to talk to. The two of you sat and talked for a little under an hour, her asking all the standard questions you anticipated. You also were able to ask her some more of your own questions as well. It was the most effortless interview you had been on easily.

“I’m sorry you weren’t able to meet Carl today,” she says when she is showing you out. “But hun, I feel confident to offer you the job. We haven’t had many applicants and you’re the most qualified one I’ve spoken to. The job is yours if you want it?”

“When can I start?” you smile, making her laugh.

“Your number is on the resume, right?” she says, scooping up the baby. You nod, waving goodbye to the baby and then saying goodbye to Sandy.

“I’ll call you when I speak to Carl, but I think once he knows he’ll want to head out as soon as we can. Plan for Sunday,” she says as you get into the cab.

Just like she had promised, you get a call from Sandy on Saturday afternoon asking you to show up the next morning at 9. You spend the day packing up your clothes and anything else you’d need for a few weeks. Sandy said they’d be back in two weeks but you pack for three just in case. Julie was also nice enough to help you. You didn’t need to do much. Ever since you had settled in Knockemstiff, you had been pretty lazy with unpacking and for once procrastination played out in your favor.

Julie insisted on taking you out to celebrate that night before starting your job tomorrow. There was a small little bar, a little shack of a place just on the outside of town you went to. Julie had a car and you drove, anticipating she’d have a lot more to drink than you. It was a hotter summer night, so you drove with the windows down and the radio playing a little louder than you normally would.

The outside was decorated with string lights of primary colors and the wooden awning looked like it was one more storm away from collapsing. But the atmosphere inside was to die for. The jukebox was playing loud dance music, and the place was crowded. Empty recycled glasses lined the walls on a high shelf as decoration along with weathered posters of anything Americana. A row of motorcycles and trucks were parked outside the little place and it looked like a pileup from how crowded the lot was. People lingered outside as well, and you both hoped you’d find seats inside.

The two of you found a high-top table and Julie made her way up to the bar, skillfully maneuvering through the crowd to grab you both some drinks. You let your eyes wandering, surveying the room and just people watching. Couples were dancing closely to the music that was rattling the jukebox, and a group of people were sitting at the bar huddles in to watch the little black and white portable television. You also noticed a group of men in uniform several tables down, local police. They weren’t paying any attention to anyone but their own conversation, except one.

He just so happened to have looked up just as your eyes landed on their table. Steel blue eyes cutting across everything and just staring right back into yours. It was a fraction of a second and his gaze was broken by Julie taking her seat across from you. You cleared your throat, and finally allowed yourself to exhale. You felt her raise an eyebrow at you but she didn’t press, just gave you a knowing smirk you brushed off. You still felt his gaze on you even if your view was now obstructed.

Sandy and Carl were in a rush when you arrived in the morning. Sandy ran you through the details of where everything was kept and told you that she would call to check in when she could when they made stopped. She helped you carry your bags in from the trunk of the taxi while Carl packed their bags in their car. He was polite enough, but you felt in your gut to just keep your distance. Sandy led you upstairs to the guest room she told you she worked to clean out for you. It was simple, a bed and a dresser with a small closet. She said it mostly had been storage and her weekend project had been clearing it out for you. It was simple, but good enough for you for sure. You thanked her and she dismissed it saying you were the one doing her a favor, making you laugh.

The whole ordeal was very hurried. Carl was rushing to get on the road as soon as possible and you could tell he was clearly irritated at how long Sandy was taking showing you around and explaining things about Valerie. Carrying the baby in your arms, you finally were settled in to your new role and Sandy gave one more big hug and a kiss on Valerie’s head before rushing down to the car. You waved to the pair of them from the small front porch, Sandy looking back and waving to the baby from the passenger seat until they were out of your line of vision.

The first day was a little daunting. New space, living in a house that isn’t yours and a baby babbling in your arms. She was a sweet thing, and she already had taken a liking to you. Heading over to her nursery, you saw that she had a little play pen folded up in the corner of the nursery and you quickly set it up in your room so you could unpack while keeping an eye on her. She babbled just happy utter nonsense to you while you navigated around the space and her big eyes just followed you, just watching you was entertaining for her for now. You were a new face and she was entertained just by that for now.

A few hours later, Valerie had settled down for a nap in the early afternoon. She was sleeping soundly in her crib and you were getting formula ready for when she woke up. It was quiet, the only noise in the house was the small sounds of your own rustling in the kitchen. You wondered when you would hear from Sandy, if it would be later tonight or in a couple of days. You just were lost in your own thoughts when you were startled by a loud knocking on the door. Instantly, Valerie began to cry. You wiped your hands quickly on the skirt of your dress before grabbing her. You rested her on your hip and rocked her gently, shushing her to calm down while you went to grab the door.

The first thing your eyes saw were the same blue eyes who was looking at you at the bar last night. The man’s eyebrows furrowed and he looked really confused. He had one hand rested on his hip and the other against the doorframe, but he stood up straight when he saw it wasn’t who he expected. Your eyes then went down to the shiny Sheriff’s Badge fixed in place on his uniform.

“Who are you?” he asks abruptly. “Where’s Sandy?”

“Sandy and Carl left this morning,” you explain, not sure if he recognizes you. “I’m their nanny.”

He laughs and shakes his head as he looks down, almost like he doesn’t believe you, or he just doesn’t believe the situation. “Carl? Carl Henderson hired a nanny?” he scoffs and you nod, holding Valerie a little closer. The little girl rubs her eyes and yawns, when her eyes flutter open, she looks at the stranger in the doorway and immediately reaches out to signal she wants to be held by him. You ignore her resistance to wanting to be in your arms until you get more information about why the Sheriff is at their doorstep, though she obviously knows him.

“I’m Sandy’s brother,” he explains, “Did she say when they were coming back?” He doesn’t try to hold the baby yet, just holds out one of his fingers and her little hand holds onto it tightly.

“Two weeks.”

“They hire a complete stranger to watch my niece and live in their house unsupervised while they drive around?” he scoffs, shaking his head again in disbelief.

“I’m more than qualified…”

“It’s not a jab at you, sweetheart,” the man tries to explain, “More so a reflection on my sister and her husband is all. They are… fairly selfish people and I wished this situation surprises me more than it does.”

“Should I tell her you came by when she calls?” you ask.

“If she calls,” the man chuckles, “Sure, let her know Lee stopped by to visit.”

“You don’t think she will?” you ask, tilting your head.

“We’ll see,” Lee shrugs, “Do I know you from somewhere?” He rests his arm back up on the doorframe and looks down to the baby again, extending out his free hand to her again and scrunching her cheeks.

“I don’t know,” you shrug, not wanting to admit you remembered seeing him last night. He purses his lips together and nods, not pressing further. He pushes off from the doorframe and puts his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket.

“Must’ve been in a dream then,” he smirks, and you feel your cheeks flush. He walks down the steps and back towards his cop car. “What did you say your name was?” he asks, turning back around.

“I didn’t,” you chuckle.

“Hmm,” he nods, and raises his eyebrows, waiting for you to fill in the blank. You tell him your name and he repeats it back to you like he’s thinking about it, trying it out to see how it sounds.

“Well,” he says, standing behind the open driver’s door, “Good luck, and I hope Sandy proves me wrong. Let me know if she calls.”

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