#I haven’t put this much effort into this blog for two years

[maxybabyy]

inspired by this gif

He shows her a photo first. It’s not the one that he ends up ordering, but it’s close enough; the same pleated skirt but the cut of the shirt is different, the colour scheme changed too. Max, half distracted by the sim race she’s trying to join, says, “This is of course very American of you, Daniel.”

“Yeah? Did you bring the ears from last year then?” He asks and makes her squeeze further into the corner until there’s almost no space between them. “Gonna be a kitty cat again, Maxy?”

“For this, I will need also the –“ she says after squinting at the screen. She claps her hands enthusiastically and throws them up in a high V, the controller left in her lap. “The sparkly things for my hands, no? I think this will be very important, Daniel.”  

“I will get you some pompoms, baby.” He says, pulls her into a kiss when her hands still haven’t come down. “Maybe then you can do a little routine for me, yeah? Show me who you’re really cheering for?”

In the end, Max is let into the discord call and is allowed to join the race – even if she is away from her sim set-up. Daniel sits beside her and looks through uniform options, tries not to lose himself in the images of her on her knees, skirt spread wide over her thighs as she sucks his cock.

Max has a last-minute shoot with Red Bull, so he meets up with some of the others for a drink or two before the party.

It’s fine, if a bit uneventful. None of them has put much effort into their costumes. Alex looks great, but only when his girlfriend stays close enough to add complexity to the otherwise bland costume.

Max has been live blogging the shoot in their texts, another fluff piece to take the heat off Checo’s race in Mexico. And then at the end, sent just over an hour ago, a picture of the pompoms Daniel had made sure to order resting on a wide shot of Max’s thigh in the backseat of a car.

Daniel hadn’t replied, didn’t see it until now, but. He goes, downs the cup of shitty but expensive vodka and makes his excuses to Lando, who hasn’t stopped staring at both Oscar and Carlos at either end of the room like he’s at a fucking tennis match.

Max has her own drink in hand when he finds her, straw sucked deep in her mouth as she nods at whatever Charles is saying. Her cheeks are flushed, and she’s obviously having a good time if the way she’s smiling is anything to go by. She must know he’s watching because she turns to look at him, eyes bright as she waves the pompom at him.

She looks fucking amazing.

The uniform fits perfectly, and even with the sensible white long sleeve that she’s wearing underneath, she looks fucking hot. When it came in the mail, he hadn’t told her it was a Chicago Bulls costume; the ‘Bulls’ on her chest the closest thing to Red Bull he could find. But he looks at her now and thinks, ‘Maybe they should do a rebrand.’

She’s wearing the same sneakers that she always is, black and practical, and her hair is tied back in her usual high pony, only this time with a striped ribbon instead of a beige hair tie. It shouldn’t be as hot as it is, but Max has always been in a league of her own. In racing, in life, in Daniel’s heart –

“Hey there, pretty lady,” he says and leans in close when Charles has escaped with a choked-up laugh. “I would offer you a drink, but someone already beat me to it, huh?”

Max lets out a laugh, shakes her head. “We are of course not in Austin anymore, Daniel.”

There’s a smushed ‘3’ painted on her cheek in red; the font unlike what is usually used for jersey numbers, and instead oddly reminiscent of what it would look like on the RB19.

“Did you come here from the big game too?” He asks instead and puts a hand on her waist, his thumb poking under the fabric to rest against her skin. “Bet your team won real easy with all the attention on you, pretty girl. Hardly any eyes on the ball, I reckon.”

“Daniel! It was only golf with Checo. Always, he was very interested in the game, I think, but –“

Daniel breaks her off with a kiss when he cannot help himself anymore, pulls her closer to his chest for a moment before he steps back. “Did you come here with a boyfriend? A friend, maybe?”

Max stares at him, teeth biting into a lip that must have been painted red once. There’s still a bit of lipstick left, maybe there’s something on him now too. She must see something in his face, because she says, flushed, “Tonight, it is just me from the – the big game, of course.”

“Yeah? No quarterback waiting for you at home? I bet you looked hot cheering for your team,” he says, looks at the hand now wrapped around his neck, the pompom resting loosely against his chest. Max gives it a little shake over her head, the rustle loud in their tiny self-imposed space.

“It was a very lovely game, that,” Max hums, rubs at the eye black on his cheek. “The team, I think, is very good this year. We can of course win the ra – “ she takes a sip of her drink to hide the stumble, glares at Daniel when he laughs at her. “I can do the pyramid very well, so we will win the next match also.”

Daniel does want to hear more about Max’s ideas of cheerleading competitions, of the trophies and championships she would have won in that too. But more than that, he wants to drag her into the bathroom and make her come; fuck her open and loose so when they get back to the hotel, he can fuck her right.

“That’s your type then? Athletes?” He asks. He doesn’t kiss her, but he wants to, knows she wants it too. But they’re so close, almost there.

“It is very hot, I think, when they are also into the sport,” she says, her breath hitching when his free hand finds its way under her skirt, to the almost non-existent thong she has on. “When they are very good, I think that is very lovely also.”

“Do you have a favourite? Someone you’re just dying to meet, to fuck?”

Max whines softly, presses against the leg Daniel has shoved in between her thighs, “You are so stupid Daniel,” she says, breathy and hoarse. “You look of course very handsome in your little outfit, but always race car drivers are the –“

He kisses her, doesn’t let her finish. 

They’ve strayed from the plan; from the loose script he had in his head. But Daniel doesn’t care, feels greedy with it that even in this – drunk and unserious as they pretend to be people they aren’t – Max still cannot pick someone else, someone who isn’t fully and completely him.

[cecilebutcher]

Thank you Irene and Aubbie for the tags<3 I really appreciate it a shit ton.

Twst content spotlight

@azulashengrottospiano Amazing, and I cannot stress this enough, AMZING octatrio content. Her writing style is so fucking amazing yet so simple? Go check her out she’s so fucking cool.

@axvwriter such a fantastic mind. Their oc Bobo is adorable and their art is even more adorable. The creatures they make are so fucking cool and awesome.

@twitchers-column a new blog made, but so far the stuff nem posts on their are just, chefs kiss. Not much on their but I see so much potential for it(I want to, uh, help with it).

@nem0-nee probably my newest moot but she is so sweet and her art is so fucking cool! Her Oc’s are so amazing and fantastic <3

@jemmidraws also new, I mean very new, but her art is so beautiful! Again not much posted but I highly recommend checking her out(her comms are open btw!)

@daily-trey posts amazingly accurate Trey content. They also respond to stuff as Trey by drawing them, my favorite post of theirs is the newest cater x Trey angst^^ (their comms are also open!)

@moonlit-midnight also writes amazing octatrio content. But they also write for other dorms like Diasomnia. Btw go check out their master list cause, it’s so fucking pretty? Like bro, that shit is so pretty and amazing.

@drdepper her art, gives me life. No no listen. The art style, the colors, the line art. I’m gobbling it up so hard. She’s also in love with Vil, don’t understand why, but Love listening to her talk about it.

@robo-milky her twst yuu is so fucking cute!! She’s so freaking talented, like tf? Girl, keep some talent for the rest of us T^T I wanna hold cloche is my hand like a small bird, ya feel me?

@altshin his twst yuu is so freaking chaotic it’s amazing 😭 his art style is so simple to me but still so gorgeous. Fellow photographer mc o7

@the-v-lociraptor everyone move it’s the creator of Castor and Pollux!! If you can’t tell I love those two twins with all my heart. Her art style is so much, that it becomes perfect.

@harunayuuka2060 while they do write for twst they also do obey me, and let me tell you they are always so fucking good!! Their writing style is Character A:….. Character B:……. It’s so fucking cool! Go check their blog out I always have fun with their stuff!!

@mintmoth they’re art style is so cute😭 my favorite Kalim artist in every single platform ever. The way they draw him makes me so happy!!

@malleusgethomeplz just posts twst shitposts. No really, that’s it, nothing more nothing less. But it still always brings me joy. They are also so stupid that it’s the best ever.

@egophiliac my favorite Lilia artist. They’re art is so unique. Like everyone move! It’s the the best Diasomnia artist is in town! Go check them out.

@oepionie I love love LOVE their writing the way they write scratches that one spot in the back of my brain. They’re writing style is so fucking gorgeous!

@blackopals-world she writes for various types of yuu. The way you can tell that she puts so much effort and love into her work is amazing, love her work so so much.

@siphoklansan sippy!! You think you’ve see great art with so much love in it? Ha yea right, you haven’t seen shit until you’ve checked my girl sippy out B) her oc’s are so fucking pretty and interesting, my personal favorite is my beloved Charin, I wanna give him a kissy kiss.

@ashipiko fellow ace kisser o7 she is so sweet and I just love her so fucking much like you have no idea. Her art style is so pretty like girl, you’re making me tear up with how gorgeous everything looks.

@ceruleancattail their themes give me life. It’s so fucking pretty and gorgeous and beautiful. Their art style is also, chef’s kiss, my personal favorite stuff is anything butler or/and yandere related<3 I will also continue to defend the kisser cater allegations with my life o7

@oheyfox Renny<3 best Jack Howl art there is, you won’t find any better then here folks! Her female first years ever. Her art style is so fucking pretty too!! Go check it out, this is a threat.

@shinysparklesapphires her art is so pretty with such interesting and incredible oc’s!! A beloved moot of mine<3

@terristre their art is so simple yet so fucking cute and adorable. I really like the way they draw the Twst characters. They’re comics are so freaking cool!!

@yuurei20 they technically analyze Twst characters and their relationships with other characters and more. It’s so interesting reading their works:0 I 10000% recommend everyone to check them out.

@dibbledoodle her yuu is a wine aunt without the wine and I am here for it. I fuckinh love her art style so much. I love the way she draws Leona he looks so stupid T^T

@revivemyreverie the way they draw, gives me life. They have so many oc’s and each one is more interesting then the last, I can’t decide who I love most. That’s a lie, it’s Vegas, it’ll forever be Vegas.

@del-thetiredwriter I love love love LOVE their mafia AU. Hello? Why is it so good? I’m on the edge of my seat waiting for the next chapter. I took inspiration from them while writing my own mafia AU, go check them out<3

@twistedchatterbox the creator of this amazing thing✨ she��s amazing and I love her writing so fucking much<3 tbh if it weren’t for her April collab I would’ve never had the courage to post twst content on here. So Rubia, from the bottom of my heart, thank you so much for everything. I owe all of this to you, Love you girl<3

I originally was gonna put like 10 people but ended up putting waaay more😭 but you know what, I regret nothing. All these amazing people write and/or draw some of the best stuff ever. And I’m so fortunate to have come across their stuff because it is truly amazing<33

[true-blue-megamind]

I have a question. I don't know if this has been asked this before. Why does Roxanne fall for Megamind? I'm crazy happy they end up together but I still wonder why? Most people were scared of him until he saved the day. He kidnapped Roxanne all the time. She was super pissed at him for a while there. He's also not human. How does the whole attraction thing even work when you aren't the same species? Because, yeah, Megs is cool af, but an ET with blue skin and a big head probably wasn't the star of many Metro City girl's wet dreams. Maybe after he started the hero gig since people are just like that but not before. But Roxanne kind of flirted with him before he turned good or anything. So I guess she had to see something in him other people didn't. What do you think it was?

MEGAMIND FAN THEORY THURSDAY: Roxanne’s Attraction

Yes, I’m back again with another Megamind Fan Theory Thursday! Special thanks to this week’s anonymous contributor! I appreciate you, whoever you may be! I also want to express my sincere gratitude to all those who read, like, and reblog these posts… Knowing that you share the love for this fandom is the reason why I continue dedicating time, whenever possible, to researching and writing about these theories. This blog wouldn’t exist without you. Thank you!

If, however, you are that one individual who has inexplicably insisted upon reading two years' worth of articles about a film you still haven’t watched… I continue to have faith you’ll one day see the light. Or at least the movie. Hope springs eternal.

In the meantime: SPOILER WARNING!

We’re all human—at least, I assume most people reading this probably are—and that means we’re imperfect. One of the sadly common flaws of our species is a tendency to be rather judgmental, sometimes without just cause, and we certainly see that occurring in the film Megamind. After all, the alien genius was left to be raised in a high-security jail among presumably dangerous inmates simply due to his appearance and was pressured into supervillainy in part because he was different. Given that fact, along with the fear and ostracization many apparently showed him, there is reason to wonder exactly what first attracted Roxanne Ritchi to the blue man. After all, as today’s contributor pointed out, most humans, if asked to describe their perfect match, might not immediately default to “an alien with a large head and a complexion of a popular primary color, as a random nonspecific example.” Yet Roxanne is most certainly attracted to Megamind. Of course, many fan suggest that she must find him handsome—it’s doubtful she’d be in a romantic relationship with him by the end of the film if she thought him ugly—but they also contend that, given her disinterest in Metroman, the attraction must be more than physical. The question is: what qualities made her fall for him rather than an ordinary human or the supposedly perfect former Defender? Can fan theories shed any light? Let’s take a look!

Not Your Average Damsel

Some may be tempted to suggest that this is merely a typical case of the damsel falling for her rescuer. After all, that’s one of the common superhero tropes, isn’t it? Even Megamind himself, while talking to Titan after training, said that saving a lady was the way to her heart. The problem with this is that, in that particular instance, the blue man was completely and undeniably wrong. His love interest’s attraction had little or nothing to do with him whisking her out of Titan’s murderous clutches.

There are three reasons why fan theories rightfully dispute the concept of Megamind and Roxanne sharing a stereotypical hero/damsel romance. Firstly, the movie itself is well known for subverting superhero genre norms, and indeed that seems to have been one of the major themes of the narrative. Given how much effort was put into turning such conventions on their heads, sometimes even lampooning them, it’s extremely doubtful that the film’s creators would have suddenly adopted such stereotypes in this one case.

Secondly, there is Roxanne herself. This character is spunky, independent, and not easily cowed. During Megamind and Titan’s second fight, we see her holding a broken street sign, preparing to join in the fray. That’s a far cry from the expected behavior of a supposedly helpless damsel. Furthermore, despite being rescued by Metroman multiple times—hundreds, in fact, according to the prequel comic The Reign of Megamind—she states outright that they “were never a couple.” That alone clearly dismisses the idea of Roxanne swooning for the blue man simply because he rescues her. If she were the sort to do that, she would have fallen for Metroman as well—especially considering that most of the people around her apparently believed him to be Mr. Perfect.

The third and final reason is one we’ve touched on before. It bears repeating, however, as it truly puts the proverbial nail in the coffin of the Typical Damsel argument. As our contributor mentioned, Roxanne canonically was attracted to Megamind while he was still a supervillain. During the kidnapping scene, when the blue man draws close and practically purrs a vaguely suggestive line—“such… tricks won’t work on me”—in the reporter’s ear, rather than showing reluctance she asks him to “please talk slower.” Megamind, of course, responds by calling her “Temptress.” Tellingly, while she doesn’t acknowledge it, Roxanne also doesn’t object to the epithet. Fan theories suggest that this obviously indicates there was already attraction on both sides, although its extremely doubtful either would have ever acted upon it. (As a well-known television reporter, Roxanne may have been too well aware of the potential destruction of her career, and Megamind, despite having her at his mercy numerous times, was obviously too goodhearted to make a move without invitation. You can read more about the latter in Megamind and Masculinity.)

Smart is Hot

This, then, leaves us with the question of exactly what did attract Roxanne to Megamind. Does she simply have a thing for blue aliens, or is it something more than that? One fan theory suggests that the answer lies in a line that was cut from the final version of the screenplay. Initially, after telling Megamind, who was then disguised as Bernard, that Metroman had never been her type, she added that she’d always preferred brains over brawn. That is interesting because intelligence is certainly something the former supervillain has in abundance. In a previous Fan Theory Thursday post, Why Kidnap Roxanne, we explored the likelihood of Megamind’s clearly ingenious species being naturally attracted to intellect. The thing is that he may not have been the only one. Merriam-Webster defines the term sapiosexual as someone who experiences “sexual or romantic attraction to highly intelligent people.” As you can guess from the mere fact that this word exists, it is fully possible for some humans to possess this inborn predisposition. Many fans believe that Roxanne Ritchi is, indeed, a sapiosexual, and this may be one reason why she would fall head-over-heels for a super-genius, alien or otherwise. In fact, as discussed in How Smart is Megamind, the blue man may quite literally be the smartest person on Earth, making him extremely alluring to someone already attracted by brilliance.

Indeed, according to fan theories, several things about Roxanne’s character support this idea. She was originally imagined as an investigative reporter, so she’s obviously not stupid. She appears to dislike Hal not based upon his appearance but rather due to his lack of intelligence and his constant harassment. Perhaps the most telling evidence, however, comes from comparing her reactions to Megamind and his former nemesis. As mentioned before, Metroman is supposed to be most people’s idea of masculine perfection. Simply look at the way his fans, especially the female ones, behave during the opening of his museum. Add to this the fact that he is largely based on Superman and Elvis Presley—both of whom were, at one time, considered extremely handsome—and we can safely assume that Metroman is supposed to be some sort of Adonis. He’s also wealthy, famous, and powerful; three qualities that many people might consider great advantages in a potential boyfriend. Nonetheless, Roxanne Ritchi shows no interest at all in him.

Conversely, while dating Megamind in his guise as “Bernard,” the woman’s attention—and perhaps her heart—seem to be captured by his conversation, intellect, wit, and humor. She initially begins spending time with him because she believes him to possess expert knowledge concerning Megamind as well as enough intelligence to help her decipher the supervillain’s plan. She clearly enjoys having long conversations with him, laughing at his humorous stories, and reading books together in a library. Granted, the last was done for research purposes in the film, but the Bad Blue Brilliant comics show Megamind and Roxanne planning a date at a library after the blue man has become a hero. Obviously a shared love of books was something Roxanne liked about him. It appears that such traits attracted the reporter while riches and model-perfect looks couldn’t.

Of course, Roxanne rejects the former villain after she learns who he really is, but one Megamind fan theory suggests that that was almost certainly not because of him, but rather because of his actions. It makes sense. She is hurt and infuriated that he lied to her, and she makes her objections to some of his past behaviors known in no uncertain terms. However, when considering the charges she lays at his proverbial doorstep, it’s clear that what she cannot abide is his criminal behavior. She accuses him of murder, taking control of the city, and tricking her. Furthermore, she seems convinced that his only purpose in disguising himself was to toy with her emotions for his own sadistic amusement.

As the film progresses, however, she realizes that he did not actually kill Metroman and that he was sincere about their relationship. That, in turn, removes many of her objections and creates room for her love to grow once more. Indeed, when Megamind, obviously upset, mentions their breakup while they are driving to Metroman’s hideout, Roxanne briefly displays a sorrowful expression before apparently hardening her resolve and slamming on the breaks. (This was likely because she still thought the former villain guilty of murder.) Furthermore, during this unused clip cut from the final film, while taunting his captive, Titan refers to Megamind as Roxanne’s boyfriend, and she doesn’t correct him. Moments later, when he tells the woman to summon her hero, she doesn’t hesitate to issue a heartfelt plea to Megamind. When she sees the blue man make his grand entrance, the look on Roxanne’s face says clearly that she knew he would come. When she believes Megamind to be wounded, Roxanne weeps, and when he, at last, takes up the position of Defender, she kisses his cheek. It seems the woman has grown to trust and love the former Master of All Villainy.

It’s What’s Inside That Counts

Megamind’s intelligence is likely not the only reason Roxanne finds herself falling for him. Many fan theories suggest that his personality was also a driving factor. As mentioned before, he is funny and likable during their dates. When they ride bikes together, he’s clearly having fun, and that makes him fun to be around. While dining out, just before the kiss and the holowatch’s malfunction, he obviously charms her. Even before that, however, the blue man seems to display some very positive traits. His mourning his nemesis, laughing with Minion, and playing with the brainbots all evince a kind heart hidden beneath the black leather and spikes. That same trait continues to appear throughout the film. Later in the narrative, during Titan's attack, Megamind displays a concern for the people of Metro City despite those same people having ostracized him all his life. He is manifestly not as evil as he tries to appear. In fact, his treatment of his damsel offers further proof of this. While he has Roxanne tied up in his Lair as bait for Metroman, it becomes obvious that Megamind’s so-called doom devices have been carefully calibrated not to actually harm the woman, and she seems to know it as she shows no fear. She even seems to enjoy her situation sometimes. When Megamind makes a veiled Star Wars reference, Roxanne smirks as if she’s trying not to laugh.

Thus it appears extremely likely that, from the start of the movie, the reporter already knew Megamind was too good a person to actually hurt her and it seems she appreciated his geeky humor. This is hardly surprising. According to the prequel comic, The Reign of Megamind, he has had more than 600 failed plots and Roxanne has been his compulsory guest of honor for many of them. Consider how much time for interaction that must have afforded them before the cameras started rolling. Even if Roxanne was only awake for an average of half an hour before each actual battle began, that would still mean that she spent roughly 300 hours alone in Megamind and Minion’s company. To put it in perspective, that’s twelve-and-a-half days! It seems nearly impossible that Roxanne could spend the equivalent of nearly two weeks in Megamind’s company without some of his charm, kindness, and humor showing through. This is quite possibly another reason for her evident attraction.

That’s not all. As mentioned in the post What Sort of Hero Will Megamind Be, the blue man lists several qualities necessary for a Defender while discussing the topic in the Metroman Museum. Although he doesn’t seem to recognize it at the time, he actually displays all of them with the exception of his former adversary's DNA. Strength? The fact that Megamind breaks a saw on Titan’s face while punching him indicates that the former villain is far more physically powerful than he looks, and his ability to remain calm and think under extreme pressure suggests that he has serious willpower. Determination? Megamind talks about learning from his many defeats, and the simple fact that he continued to get up and try again after losing more than 600 times shows that he certainly doesn’t give up easily. Courage? The alien genius goes to Roxanne for help in finding Titan’s weakness rather than fleeing despite Titan’s attempt to kill him. Afterward he puts his life on the line to save Roxanne from the new villain—and that’s after facing a superpowered foe for years. Whatever else he may be, no one can argue that Megamind isn’t brave.

Finally, there’s also Megamind’s industriousness. Imagine how many inventions he must have constructed over the years… There would doubtlessly be hundreds! Everyone one of them had to be not only built but also designed and tested. How many hours of plans, calculations, schematics, calibrations, and labor go into each one? It's unclear, but what is certain is that, despite clearly knowing how to have fun, the blue man just as obviously understands the value of hard work. It’s doubtful that laziness is a vice he has ever suffered from.

So, why is Roxanne Ritchi attracted to Megamind? While we may never know how physically desirable she finds him—although fans speculate that, based on their relationship, she must find him handsome—the blue man possesses plenty of other beguiling virtues. Alien or not, Roxanne obviously finds his intelligence and personality too alluring to ignore, and as soon as he embraced goodness rather than behaving in destructive ways she could not condone, she gave him her heart. If you consider it, that really isn’t shocking at all. If any one of us were courted by a person who was smart, funny, courageous, kind, charming, hardworking, fun-loving, and strong, would we remain unaffected? Or would we, like the movie’s heroine, tumble head-over-heels into love? In the end, it’s little wonder that Roxanne fell for the new Defender of Metro City. It would have been more surprising if she hadn’t.

That concludes this week’s Fan Theory Thursday! I hope you enjoyed it!

[agirlwithbigdreamsforher]

LIKE A VIRGIN

THE NANNY: ONE SHOT

LIKE A VIRGIN

Pairing: Andy Barber x Annie Johnson (OFC)

Summary: After her miscarriage, Annie is ready to be intimate with her husband again.

Warnings: Fluff, sex, Andy being a sweetheart (yeap that is a warning)

A/N:  none.

Word count: 2021

Disclaimer: I do not give permission for any of my works to be copied, used, translated nor reposted anywhere else but here on this blog. Do not steal what you didn’t work for. Minors and ageless blank blogs don’t interact with me or my works. Reblogs and likes are always welcome. Thank you for reading this work of fiction.

GIFS not mine, you can find the credits in each gif :)

                                     ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

It was Thursday morning, Thanksgiving day. Annie and Andy got up early to start with the dinner preparations. His brother and his family were coming to visit them and spend time together as a family. Andy insisted in Tom’s family to stay with them for the weekend but Tom opted for booking a room in an hotel arguing they were still in the honeymoon stage and didn’t want to hear them having sex. Tom knew about what happened to his little sister, but he didn’t know Annie and Andy hadn’t slept together since her miscarriage. Andy was very supporting of her and never pushed her to anything pass cuddling and kissing before bed.

Tom, Martha and little Denisse, who was now two years old, arrived at noon to Newton, and after leaving their bags in the hotel they headed to the Barber’s house. As soon as they got in, Martha went to help Annie in the kitchen, while the guys took care of the kids and watch the football match on TV.

It wasn’t until almost 6 o’clock when they finally sat and had dinner.

“I think it’s time for us to say what we are thankful for.” Martha said, “I am thankful for being all of us together having dinner as a family. I know I already told you this the day of the wedding Andy but we are so happy you are part of this family.”

“I am happy too, thank you Martha.” Andy said smiling a bit of blush on his cheeks. “Can I go next?” Martha nodded as she drank from her glass of wine.

“I am thankful for this dinner, you girls nailed it. I haven’t had a proper Thanksgiving dinner since my mom passed away.” Annie grabbed his hand when he said that and rubber her thumb on his knuckles, “I am thankful for having you as a wife, I love you.” Annie mutter an I love you back, “And I’m thankful because Dr. Greene already discharged Jake.”

“Yeah! I’m big boy now!” he said lifting his little plastic cup full of orange juice.

“And because his kindergarten teacher told us he is a very smart boy and right now he is being top of his class.” Annie added and everybody clapped.

“Stop! Stop!” Jake said waving his small hand and everyone stopped, “Why you stop?” Everyone laughed.

“Happy thanksgiving everybody.” Tom said lifting the bottle of beer.

“Happy Thanksgiving!” Everyone said, even little Denisse babbled something along the rest.

It was close around 11 p.m. when Tom and his family went back to the hotel. Jake was out on the couch by 9, he made all the effort to stay awake with the adults but eventually he fell asleep next to his cousin. Andy was putting away the leftovers on the fridge, when Annie walked into the kitchen.

“Baby, can you carry Jake to his room? I’m exhausted.”

“Sure, honey. I’ll meet you upstairs.”

Annie was finishing her skincare routine in the bathroom when Andy walked into the room and got into the closet to change his clothes.

“I’m glad your brother could came,” Andy said from inside the closet as he put on some black sweats.

“Yeah, me too.” Andy could hear her now in the room along with the cold November wind hitting the window. He put on a gray shirt and walked out of the closet.

“Maybe tomorrow we could…” Andy stopped on his tracks when he saw his lovely wife wearing a black satin sleep cami with black lace on the neck line. He swallowed hard. “That’s… not covering much for tonight’s weather.”

“Don’t you like it?”

“What? No, it’s not that, you look beautiful honey, as always.” He walked to his side and climbed on the bed. He got closer to Annie and kissed her softly, he had kissed her multiple times in the past months but today it felt different, he felt the need in her kiss so he stopped. “Honey…”

“I think I’m ready, Andy.” Andy just stared at her, “I want to be with you.”

“Honey, you don’t have to do this, you know that right?” Annie nodded, “There’s no rush, and we can always wait more.”

“I just wanna see if I can do it.” Andy kept looking at her with worried eyes, “Please, I promise if I don’t like it, I’ll tell you to stop.”

“Alright.” Andy sighed, “We’ll go slowly, ok?” Annie nodded this time. “Lay down,” Annie made herself comfortable against her pillow, “And relax. If you don’t feel comfortable at any point tell me and we will stop. Ok?”

“Yes, Andy.”

“Safe word.”

“Red.”

It’s been two months, he will be lying if he said he wasn’t hard already just by seeing her in that cami on the bed.

Andy kissed her softly, his lips touching her gently exploring her like it was the first time they kissed. The kiss soon became heated, Annie opened her mouth to give access to Andy’s tongue. As soon as his tongue touched hers, she let out a small whimper and Andy stopped.

“Too much?”

“No, no. it feels good.”

He smiled and gave her a small peck. He kissed her cheek and went down to her neck and under her left ear, she whimpered again when he kissed her sweet spot. Andy’s hand went up her tight, stopping when he reached her hip.

“Are you not wearing anything underneath this?”

“Well, no. I thought, you know, easy access?” She blushed and darted her sight to the right. Andy grabbed her chin and looked at her in the eyes.

“You, little lady, are making really difficult for me not to go hard on you.”

“I’m sorry.” She said shyly.

“Honey, you are never this shy. You’re even shaking, what is it? You know we can stop, are you uncomfortable?”

“No, I’m just nervous. I feel like this was my first time. Is that wrong?”

“Of course not. I understand.”

“I don’t want to ruin it, Andy.”

“Honey,” Andy took her hand and guided her to his crotch, she could feel his hot and hard cock trough his sweatpants, “You are not ruin anything.” She swallowed, “Wanna continue?” she nodded quickly, “Words.”

“Yes, please.”

Andy grabbed the hem of her cami, and once the piece of clothing was out of her body he threw it across the room. Andy looked at his wife, her small rounded breast on full display, her puffy nipples begging for attention. He went to attack her neck again, his hand massaging one of her breast.

“Andy.” She moaned when Andy lips suck on her nipple as her hand touched the back of his head, caressing his hair.

Soon his kisses traveled down her tummy to her hips, Andy nibble at the skin where she had the scar of her surgery. He situated himself between her thighs, her pink and brown glistening folds were already a bit swollen, and he kissed her inner thighs so painfully slowly. He put her legs on his shoulders, his face got closer to her slit; his breath hitting her core; he kissed her clit, took it between his lips and sucked.

“God!”

Andy kept sucking on her clit, his tongue coming down to her hole and lap at it to grab her juices.

“Fuck, Andy!” Annie’s hand went to the back of his head and tangled her fingers on his hair. A loud moan came out of her went Andy put his middle finger inside her hitting in the right spot. Andy pumped his finger in and out without stop sucking on her clit. “Andy! OH GOD!”

Her climax hit making her arched her back. Andy stopped, moving his way up to meet her eyes, a dopy smile on her face. He kissed her, tasting her juices on his lips. Annie’s hand moved to the waistband of Andy’s sweats, pulling them slightly.

“Alright, that’s enough for tonight honey.” Andy too her hand and kissed her knuckles.

“Please, Andy.” She saw him with pleading eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that!”

“Please.” Andy paused for a minute.

“Fuck!” He took his pants off, his cock sprung free against his abdomen, hard and ready to fuck her, the tip of his dick was red and leaking. He stroke it without breaking eye contact with her. “This what you want?”

“Yes, I want it, Andy; please!”

He passed his tip along his folds and clit, he was about to put it in when Annie put her hand on his chest.

“Wait!”

“Ok, I’m sorry. We can do this another day.”

“No, just, can you wear a condom? I just don’t…”

“Sure, honey.” Andy moved to his side and opened the drawer on his night stand, took out the silver wrapper, opened it and slid the condom over his shaft. He moved to be on top of her again, took his member in his hand and lined in her entrance.

“Ready?”

“Yeah.”

Andy slid slowly into her, both moaning at the feeling, she felt warn and tight against him.

“Fuck, honey.” He kept sliding in, stopping when he was fully inside, “How can you…oh god, you’re squeezing me already.” Andy took a deep breath and started thinking on anything he could not to cum. “I don’t know if I will last long, honey.”

Andy looked at her, her eyes a bit glossy, she felt a sting inside, and she couldn’t explain how she wasn’t use to Andy’s size anymore. He kissed her cheeks, and caressed her nose with his.

“Move, please.”

Andy began moving into her slow a first, seeing how her face contort with each thrust, soon their moans, groans and pants filled the silence of the night.

“Oh god, Andy!”  His thrusting began to increase, the sound of skin to skin increasing. “Please, don’t stop!”

Andy slid out of her, took her by the waist and he sat on his haunches, he lined himself in her entrance and slam his cock into her.

“Fuck!” Annie screamed.

“Move baby girl, use me to cum.” Andy said in a deep voice.

She began to move up and down and made circles with her hips as she sank down his shaft.

“That’s it baby, come on. I can feel you’re close.” Andy took one of her nipples of her bouncing breast.

“Andy, Fuck!”

Andy felt her walls clasping against his cock, her clit rubbing on his skin with each trust. He put her against the bed, slamming hard in her pussy.

“Cum for me, baby.”

A loud moan left her mouth, her pussy clenching on Andy’s cock making him cum with her.

Andy stayed inside her, his face hidden in the crock of her neck, until he heard a small whimper. He lifted his weight off of her, a few tears streamed down her face.

“Oh god, did I hurt you?”

“No,” She sniffed, “It felt amazing!”

Andy sighed and giggled, “Don’t scare me like that.” He bend down and kissed her.

After a couple of minutes he slid out of her and she shivered at the loss of contact. Andy got out of bed, took off the condom, and tossed it in the bathroom bin. He came back, searched for his clothes and put on his sweatpants. “Honey, sit up for me, please.”

She did as she was told and Andy put his shirt on her. She then took her place on her side of the bed and Andy took his, they were looking at each other.

“I missed you.” She said with a sleepy voice, “I know you didn’t leave, but…”

“I understand,” he caressed her cheek, “I missed you too.” He leaned in and kissed her softly. “Want me to be the big spoon?”

“Yes, please!” She turned to the other side and Andy grabbed by the waist to pull her close. The exhaustion taking over Annie.

“Good night, honey.” He kissed her on the shoulder. “I love you.”

A low hum was all he got as a response, he smiled and hold his wife closer to him, closing his eyes and drifting off with the sound of wind outside.

[elliesbelle]

hi lovelies. ♥︎

TW: mentions of suicide and self-harm under the cut

i apologize for leaving such a cryptic, vague post last night on my blog. i saw only now that it caused a bit of a panic in some people and i am very sorry.

the past couple of days have been incredibly difficult for me in regards to my personal life because for the past several months, i’ve been harassed nonstop by these two women at my job who don’t like me and try to sabotage me at work relentlessly and it went way too far this week. i won’t go into it, but it got extremely, EXTREMELY bad. LEGAL bad.

my whole life, i’ve struggled with my trauma and mental health, especially my suicidal ideations. this situation at work triggered a very specific part of my PTSD and it’s been causing me not to think straight at all.

yesterday and today, i’ve been unfortunately physically harming myself and attempted to commit suicide more than once. thankfully my ex (live in, not soulmate) has been with me and was able to stop most instances and she’s been keeping an eye on me and keeping me safe.

i’ve been on a little social media break today, only going online to respond to personal DMs from concerned friends + mutuals. i haven’t looked through my notifications fully yet, but i did see a few messages in my inbox. for my own sake, im not going to reply to them for the time-being.

love you all very much and love this community. it’s always been such an amazing outlet and escape for me, and i’ve made such amazing friends along the way. i’m very grateful.

if i’m not as active or am not publishing as fast as y’all would like, i apologize. this year has been one of the hardest of my life (which is saying a lot), and though i love writing, i want to be happy with the work i put out. that takes time and effort and a lot of energy and a bit of mental stability, and i don’t always have all of those things. so please bear with me.

love you all. thank you for those who reached out in concern. thank you especially to my friends and mutuals who’ve reached out both here and outside this blog. love you. love you. love you.

[ask-everafteracademy]

Hey guys, can we chat?

I started this blog almost two full years ago (which is insane to me). Honestly it’s been so exhilarating being able to make content and speak about something so near and dear to my heart with people who share the same passion as me. I’ve met so many wonderful people in this fandom who have stuck with me (special shoutout to the one and only @arinlangdon) and this blog has been one of the greatest experiences I’ve had while being online. I feel like the way I’m wording this could make people nervous so I want to clear the air

The blog is not over, nor is it being taken down

This post is mainly to answer some questions I’ve been getting, and also to explain myself. If my co admin decides they want to make their own statement I’ll leave that up to them, but here is mine

Why haven’t you been posting?

The main reason this account hasn’t been very active is simply due to a lack of motivation. We have so many ideas for this blog (an email, Pinterest boards, Google docs, even Spotify playlists) but just not enough source material to run with them. On top of that, we feel like we aren’t getting that much traction on our posts, which really puts a dent in our moral. That’s not a ploy for pity, obviously people can’t help if they aren’t interested in a story from an app that’s been dead for two years. We can’t force people to still care, and we’re not expecting it from anyone, but it doesn’t change the fact that it sucks

What does this mean for the blog?

Honestly, I’m not sure. I feel like with all the effort we’ve been putting into our bigger ideas it’d be a shame for it all to go to waste. Plus I do enjoy interacting with whoever stops by and posting our silly headcanons or random thoughts. I think the best answer I can give is content will continue to be posted, just not constantly. I do have to take into account that I’m going to college next month and I need to prepare to take my next steps in life so I’m not sure how much I’ll be online at all, but I do want to try.

When are you going to [answer BLANK or post BLANK]?

EVERYTHING WILL BE ANSWERED/FINISHED IN TIME! This blog is run by two people with jobs and lives outside of tumblr so we’re not going to be online constantly. We’re running exclusively on our passion for the story and fandom and pure spite of V*ltage. For me personally it depends on what time I have and if I’m motivated to write (and more often then not I’m channeling that motivation into my book), but I can assure you that we are still here and we will give you the answers you’re craving… just not right now.

In conclusion, yes this blog will still be active, unlike some companies we care deeply about the story that has been given to us and we want to continue to honor it as best we can. We just need some time to collect ourselves.

Thank you for listening to my long rant and for supporting us through this whole crazy journey. I love you guys, keep dreaming <3

- Lightkeeper (Blaire)

[cloud-somersault]

Hey, how are you doing? I hope you’re alright. 💕 I’ve been reading your status updates on Constellations and the Epilogue, and I just wanted to let you know that I think you’re amazing. Your writing is incredible and I love it. Your stories are so well thought out and the characters are ✨on point✨, and the plot is complex and detailed and aaahhh! It has me hooked! 🤩

And I understand how it hurts when you put so much effort and love into a story, only to post it and not see others be anywhere near as excited or invested as you are. I know how discouraging it can be. And it may be a little silly, but I do want to apologize for not commenting lately—life took some difficult turns for me healthwise around the end of last year and I haven’t been able to catch up! I’m still on Chapter 4 of Constellations! 😭 BUT Chapter 5 is open on my phone, and I am READY to read it as soon as I have the time (and mental energy, but that’s a whole ‘nother issue 😩). Don’t worry that your writing isn’t enough, or be discouraged if some readers don’t catch hints while others are figuring it all out seemingly too easily. Everybody reads and comprehends stuff differently, and it’s not a sign that your writing is bad if they don’t catch it! Honestly, I’m pretty bad at catching hints the first time I read a story unless they’re pretty darn obvious. I don’t usually notice subtle hints until the second, or third, or even seventh read-through, haha! (on the bright side, rereading stories and rewatching TV shows is always fun!) 😅

I guess what I really wanted to say is… don’t give up hope. Don’t lose your love and enthusiasm for your works, or feel like they aren’t worth writing because others don’t seem interested in them. At the heart of it all… at the end of the day… write because you love to. Because it makes you happy. And know that it doesn’t have to be “perfect”—the main goal should be that you enjoy it. That’s something I’m trying to teach myself, too. 💕

Thank you for taking the time to write this message and send it. I appreciate you're very kind words 💕I'm doing okay, I just had to take a step back for a bit from socials and stuff. I'm gonna keep that up for a while.

Please don't apologize for not commenting or taking your time reading. Your health always comes first, and I'm sorry if I came off as childish or needy, that wasn't my intention. Two things just happened that set me off and the timing of it was incredibly poor 😓

Please take your time reading; none of it is going anywhere, and don't feel obligated to leave comments either. i'm realizing that, even if chapters are short or long, finding the time to finish things is difficult, and everyone lives different lives. And I'm sorry about all the spoilers on this blog, I'll tag that better from now on.

But I really do think I got confused or disjointed in my perceptions; everyone here knows so much because i've been asked questions and given answers and people have interacted, so people following me here have more context than the average ao3 user. But I've kinda been expecting everyone to be on the same page, which will never be true.

I'm also the same way where it takes me a while to pick up on hints. I actually changed my writing style to prevent this. I got tired of reading books in college where you had to dive into every little thing. the hints and clues weren't obvious to me. I decided then that, when I wrote, I wanted things to be bold, obvious, but beautiful. I didn't want to make readers feel like they're missing something. I wanted them to trust that every answer, every clue would be answered in time. I made that promise to myself a decade ago, and being reminded of how different people interpret things just...made me remember.

I take writing really seriously, probably too seriously, but I've been doing it for so long and I love doing it. I want to be good at it. When it feels like I've gone back on that promise to myself, I get frustrated. I think of ways I could've fixed things. But I also remember that those books and those writing styles just weren't for me. I wasn't the target audience.

Sorry to go off on a tangent, but I wanted to explain why I got upset. I still love Constellations and I'm posting it on ao3 out of convenience, really. It's easier to reference and search there in one "Entire Work" than to have 5 documents open. The fact that others can see and read and have fun is a bonus. But I'm committed to telling this story, and I'm gonna finish with a bang.

Thank you, I won't forget why I'm doing this and that my thoughts/feelings come first! 😤I hope your health concerns are taken care of soon. Take it easy, and thanks again! 💕

[sunshine-on-marz]

could you do a dating tommy fluff alphabet thing if you haven’t already?

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

I think he’s a hugger, and once y’all have been dating for a bit he gets more comfortable telling you how much he loves you aswell

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

He’s be so fun. Take you on days in the city, invite you to record blogs, all that stuff. And you probably meet online, like on Hypixle or smthn

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

He LOVES cuddles, and he puts you o n his chest. So either, on his lap facing him or laying on top of him.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

I mean, with how often your at his apartment you’re basically living there. You’re definitely breaking the lease but you help with chores and Rue and Ash love you so it’s fine. So yea, he loves domestic stuff

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

He’d probably just blurt it out, he’s to scared to sit down and say it calmly

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Probably takes like 2-5 years to actually propose, but he thinks about it after like- two dates

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

He can play and joke rough but he is extremely sweet to you and loves you so much, he’d never purposely hurt you

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Loves hugs every second of every day. He’s the type to pick you up and let you wrap your legs around his waist when he hugs you.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

He says it pretty quick, but it’s on accident. He’s just thinking out loud one day and say “I think I love you”

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

He gets very jealous. It’s not that he doesn’t trust you, he just doesn’t want anyone to think about you the way he does. He keeps it in his head tho. He’ll just wrap his arms around you and kiss your cheek.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

His kisses are god like. Sweet and cute, they can range between a peck or 10 seconds, but they’re always amazing. He loves kisses any where, he just wants to be touching you.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

He loves kids and is great with them, but he doesn’t want any of his own, he’s more of a fun uncle.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Slow wake ups and cuddles, joking around and forehead kisses

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Watching VODs and playing games while cuddling until you both fall asleep

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

I say it would take a few months to get comfortable but after that you know everything

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He gets frustrated but tries to never take it out on you and doesn’t stay mad for long

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He. Remembers. Everything. He knows more about you then you do

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

When you met his mom. It’s by FAR his favorite

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

He’d kill for you, anyone DARES to hurt you and he’s on attack mode. He doesn’t let you protect him but definitely wants comfort and cuddles after

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

This man puts 210% info everything with you

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

He tends to take jokes to far

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Eh, not really anymore, you love how he looks so he loves how he looks

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Absolutely

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

He loves dancing with you on stream

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He doesn’t like judgmental people

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

He doesn’t sleep. This man thrives on 3 hours.

————

Hope you like this!!

[whatislovevavy]

WC: 4.4k

Synopsis: An exploration of why Bucky decided to cut his hair

AN: This has been in my Google Drive for about two years and finally got around/had the motivation to finish this. This piece was technically my first ever piece of fanfiction I ever wrote. My writing mostly pertains to Top Gun and Top Gun Maverick so this was a nice little brain break from that. I thought I'd include the original author's note I put together, having never written fanfiction at the time, just for nostalgic sake and if anyone wants to know just how new to this I was lol. Also this divider is not mine and I was unable to tag the account that made it since it was deleted. This work will be posted on my side blog @sophs-writing-nook.

Original Author’s Note: Hello everyone :) This is the first fanfiction I’ve ever written and I really hope you guys like it because I’m a bit nervous about it. I’ve had this idea since I saw the first promotions for the Falcon and Winter Soldier series and didn't really do anything about it for a variety of reasons. I haven’t seen a lot of fics exploring this concept so I decided to write this on a camping trip in my notes app where I didn’t have reception so I apologize if there is bad grammar, spelling errors, etc. If there happens to be a similarity to another fic, it is purely coincidence and I don’t intend to plagiarize anyone. Please let me know if it does appear I have. I have a lot of respect for fanfic writers and don’t want to disrespect anyone and steal anyone’s work unintentionally. 

Warnings: Blood, Trauma (PTSD), sadness with some bittersweet moments sprinkled in, supportive Sam because that’s a warning in itself. 

None of these characters are mine. Read at your own discretion.

Bucky had tried finding a routine after coming back: Get up by 7, go on a run make breakfast, try to keep in touch with his friends he had made since coming back, try a new recipe, maybe try online dating, catch up on what he missed the past 70 years, try to forgive himself for all the atrocities he didn't have a choice in committing, make dinner, shower, and sleep by 9.

That's what his therapist, Darlene, told him to do at least.

She wanted him to write in a journal the names of the people and families he wanted to make amends with, things he wanted to explore and try out, and good things he remembered before he was the Winter Soldier.

Darlene had kept encouraging him to keep referring to the Winter Soldier as if he were his own separate person, and not affiliated with James Buchanan Barnes.

It helped a bit with passing the blame, but not by much. He, naturally, chose the last remnant of Steve he had- his journal- to hold these thoughts.

Steve saw the best in him when he couldn't. 

He made an effort to try and forgive himself for everything he did, for Steve’s sake. 

Why Steve had left him, he didn't fully understand. 

It didn't make the "forgiving himself" part any easier. 

If his lifelong friend, who had been with him through thick and thin, decided to leave him now in this time of his broken, mutilated life, what did that say about him? 

Was he wrong about him? 

Did he truly believe he was worth being fixed and forgiven? 

There were small moments of hope that he could be fixed, but they were few and far inbetween.

His nightmares had gotten worse.

If Darlene would ask, he’d tell her, “no, they haven't", "they've stopped", or "I haven't had one for a while.” Bullshit excuses that anybody who saw the dark circles under his eyes wouldn't believe. Darlene knew he was lying and would try to reassure him that their space was safe and it would help him to get his nightmares out in the open.

He didn't think so.

This woman didn't know what it was like to have the same horrific scenarios play out in his mind every time he went to sleep. 

To see himself killing innocent people like he was in the backseat of his mind. 

The blood. 

Their faces, some close friends and others strangers. 

Their pleas and calls for mercy were what always broke him. 

He was forced again and again to witness himself taking their lives and couldn't do anything to stop himself. Forced to use any part of himself for Hydra.

Nothing was spared.

He felt unforgivable, these nightmares were a sign of the Winter Soldier still being in his head, buried and ready if Hydra got their hands on him again. 

He was tired of fighting and worrying, only wanting lasting peace and a full night's rest.

He had started renting an apartment in downtown Brooklyn near where his family had lived during the 40's. It was near the church cemetery his mother, father and sister, Rebecca, were buried. They were placed in the row closest to the street behind the church his family frequented during his youth. 

His parents had passed from old age when he was imprisoned by Hydra. 

A small part of him was thankful for that. 

They never had to learn that their son had done such horrible things.

They lived with the good memories of him.

His sister had passed during the time half the population was gone, the Blip people called it, from Alzheimer's. He visited her once before, but she was in the late stages, and was a shell of who he remembered growing up. 

His little sister Rebecca, whom he protected, opened jars for, teased, and made sure the boys she liked would be good to her, was now unable to remember him. He was told she passed peacefully in her sleep a few months after he disappeared.

Darlene thought that buying an apartment so close to his family's resting place might be overwhelming for him, but he wanted to be close to them and the memories he had.

The apartment consisted of a basic floor plan; kitchen, bathroom with a shower and bath, living room, bedroom, closet. However, he only used the kitchen, bathroom, and living room.

He didn't have many things when he moved in, and didn't feel he needed all the space allotted to him.

He had invested in a modest tv set, a microwave, blender, and a camping mat, courtesy of Sam's encouragement. 

He had tried sleeping on a mattress, but he felt that he was going to sink through into the floor with how soft and marshmallow-like it felt. He always slept on the floor with a few blankets and sheets. 

Sam had the same experience when he came back from Afghanistan.

Sam had tried to help him adjust to things since coming back, and had done a lot for him, including to help him find his apartment and encourage him to try new things.

There were times he had trouble getting out of his headspace to return Sam's calls and initiate with his friend. Darlene had been saying that for a person who allegedly had no one left, he seemed to have a safety net in Sam. She pushed him to call someone other than her and initiate with him. It was another case where he felt she didn't fully understand how difficult it was for him to build relationships, and "get his nightmares out in the open" since coming back.

He had gotten home late that night from the store, buying ingredients to make a recipe Darlene recommended: chicken tikka masala, he thought she called it.

He was amazed at the amount of change he had missed, especially from a grocery store. His family would boil everything with what minimal spices were available, other than the usual salt and pepper. He found solace in trying new recipes and exposing himself to the technological wonders of the 21st century, including learning how to use a DVD player and the iPhone he recently bought. He tried online dating but found it was too overwhelming and made him feel like a fish out of water. Asking people on dates and seeking relationships came easily to him when he was younger before the war, but everything felt so different now. 

He felt so different and foreign to himself. His arm. His mind. He felt like a shell of the person he was before the Winter Soldier.

His groceries were unloaded into the fridge and he started to prepare his dinner. He placed a bowl on the counter for mixing chicken marinade and marinating the soon to be cooked slices of chicken. The chicken slices were placed into a pan on a low heat to begin cooking. They wouldn't take long since they only had to cook halfway through initially. He gathered the spices for the marinade.

The soft smells of turmeric, ginger, cumin, and garam masala reminded him of the evenings he spent helping his mother cook during the summer. His mother would rummage together some cash every once in a while to buy a few sachets of spices from the local grocery. It was an indulgence she took part in that, compared to now, seemed simple and less of an everyday luxury. 

Sure, the spices she would bring home were more mild and less "exotic" than what he had available to him now, but it was the familiar memory of being taught to cook and the soft smells of his mother's cooking.

His conscience told him to use the spices sparingly despite himself being confronted with a substantially sized grocery aisle complete with spices from almost every corner of the world a mere few hours ago.

Maybe it was his upbringing during the Great Depression and watching his parents worry about where the next paycheck would come from.

Or maybe it was his instinct telling him this small semblance of peace he had found in his Brooklyn apartment would be snatched away, and that he needed to savor every new experience in stride. 

Because if he let himself enjoy them too much, it would make the snatching that much more painful.

He couldn't decide.

He finished the marinade and would have to wait an hour or two to start the sauce and cook the chicken. He placed it in the fridge and made his way to the bathroom for a shower.

The warm water felt nice on his warped, scarred flesh around his arm on his left side. The area would often become sore and plagued by knots. Sam recommended warm showers, aloe vera, a massage and spa place nearby, and Advil. The thought of people he didn't know touching his scarred flesh made him feel nervous, so the rest of his suggestions were his go to. 

His scar tissue and long hair were the last physical mark of Hydra on him. 

He was thankful he didn't have to see the red star that had branded him for so many years when he looked in the mirror anymore, since leaving Wakanda.

But there was still his hair.

His hair that had blood, dirt and grime stained into it for his 70 years of service. No matter how many times he showered, he knew the blood would never leave his hair or his hands. His mind would drift through waves of hopelessness in quiet moments like these more often than not.

He dried himself off with a soft towel, changed into a pair of boxers, and began to gingerly apply aloe vera to the junction where his arm met his shoulder. His shoulder was still a bit sensitive after all these years despite the enhanced healing from the serum. Shuri theorized it was because the metal cavity of his arm continuously tore through the underlying tissue. She was able to remove the bits and pieces of metal embedded in his shoulder. His arm was in the healing process, but it would take a while after years of damage even with the serum. After he finished rubbing in the aloe vera, He put on a dark t-shirt and made his way back into the kitchen to finish the sauce.

He carefully prepared the onions, garlic, and spices for the sauce the way his mother taught him to. 

He couldn't help but think about how his parents and sister would have loved to have tried this recipe with him.

He could almost hear his mother's voice in his head telling him to "cut the onions a bit smaller" or "don't let the garlic and onions burn in the pan".

Rebecca's eagerness to try the sauce prematurely with a perfected pout and whines of protest when denied so.

His father's quiet yet strong presence at the kitchen table reading the daily paper and soft scolding of his sister.

Steve drawing in his journal at the dinner table on evenings when Sarah Rogers would be working late at the hospital.

The radio softly playing in the background as a soothing ambiance.

The kitchen window opened to let the aroma of the Barnes’ family dinner wander through the back alley of the apartment building, and let in the sounds of the neighbors' soft conversations, clothes oscillating in the wind on the clothes line, and car engines humming as people made their way home at dusk.

All qualities of his family's evening routine and upbringing he longed for, but took for granted in his youth.

The stark smell of overcooked onions brought him back to the task at hand, pulling him from his thoughts but leaving his buildup of emotions he felt were about to rupture. He added the heavy cream, spices, brown sugar, and let them stir with the marinated onions and garlic. He felt tears start to form in his eyes. Letting the sauce thicken, he turned the pan onto a low heat, and added the marinated chicken to finish cooking. 

He placed the spatula down on the counter top with a shaky hand, placing his hands on the counter to support himself as he let out a shaky breath, blinking away tears that formed in the corners of his eyes.

God, he wished they were here with him. Steve. His mom. His dad. Rebecca.

He wished he had somebody who knew him before the Winter Soldier that could help him to pick up the broken pieces of himself and to become the person he was again.

He wished he could have said goodbye to his parents, Rebecca, and that Steve hadn't left him.

He wished he could've held his parents one last time before they passed, met the man that Rebecca fell in love with and had a family with, and fought harder for Steve to stay with him and help pick up the pieces.

All things that he couldn't do anything about now.

He wiped his tears away and returned to stirring his chicken masala. Thoughts of his family blending with the thoughts of his recipe like the spices and heavy cream in his pan as a cope. Darlene had mentioned that the recipe goes best with garlic buttered rice or naan, so he had bought ingredients for both, but opted for the naan. He turned on the oven, placed some naan from the store on a baking sheet, and into the oven before returning to stirring the contents of the pan. 

He remembered Sam wanted to come over and check in on how he was settling into his apartment, sometime the next day. Maybe he would want to try some of his dish. 

"Initiate, take small steps to initiate". This counted as initiating, right? He hoped so.

His chicken masala was well blended and deemed done. His naan close behind. He placed a bowl and plate on the counter, served up his recipe and naan, and sat down at his two person dinner table, and prepared to eat. Darlene had told him that making a makeshift taco with the naan tasted good if he opted to not make the garlic butter rice. He took his first bite and let himself experience each incredible flavor. 

He would definitely be making this recipe again.

Maybe he could make a batch for Sam. 

It would be a small way to return the favor.

He made his way through his dinner, and would start heading to bed soon. It was almost 9 anyway. Shuri told him that consistent good sleep would also help him heal mentally along with his therapy and the treatment she provided.

He made a mental note to try making the garlic butter rice, thank Darlene for the recipe, and ask her if she had any more favorite recipes he should try during his next session.

He brought his dishes to the sink, moved to the bathroom to brush his teeth, and shed himself of his shirt. Sleeping shirtless was normal for him both during the war and after getting the serum, finding that he would warm up easily and end up tossing and turning in the night. 

His escalated body heat helped him to survive the frigid Siberian winters during his imprisonment, but not the mild to warm summer nights in Brooklyn.

Laying on the hardwood floor with the lights out left him with his thoughts. He remembered the nights he and Steve spent laying on couch cushions on the living room floor of his parents apartment. 

The nights he and his sister would read The Hobbit under the covers of his bed when they were younger, while their parents thought they were sleeping. 

He liked to sleep with the TV on at a low volume and the window opened so he wouldn't be lost in his thoughts for too long. 

He didn't have as much trouble falling asleep as before. Darlene told him to take deep breaths while resting his eyes and had gotten better at it since seeing her. 

Breathe in for 5 seconds, exhale for 10, and repeat till he felt calm enough to drift to sleep.

He steadily awoke hours later, feeling warm and groggy.

 It was quiet. 

The TV was off and the window was shut. 

He was none the wiser in his hindered state of being as he lifted himself off of the floor and trudged to the bathroom, the soft sound of his bare feet pattering on the wood floor like rain drops on a window, encompassing his apartment in a soft echo.

He turned on the soft bathroom light and twisted the cold faucet on, leaned down and scooped cold water in his hand, and poured it on his face. Supporting himself by his forearms, he closed his eyes and relished in the feeling of cold on his face and cascading down his neck. 

The water felt warmer now and had a distinct iron smell to it.

He opened his eyes and was met with his hands drenched in blood. Blood flowing into the sink from the tap. 

He slowly turned to meet his reflection. Met with the cold, dark, blank eyes of the Winter Soldier. The blood stained leather vest, black muzzle, and the long brunette hair stained black from blood falling over his face. 

He was there with him, as clear as day. 

He felt a stark and deep rooted sense of fear awaken and burrow itself in his chest as he quickly retreated from the sink, pressing himself against the opposing wall. Eyes wide and breathing heavy, he felt the walls of the bathroom constricting him.

The Winter Soldier reached out his metal arm, severing the separation between the mirror and his bathroom, and brought it down onto the counter top with a resounding crack, small remnants of the cheap countertop tumbling to the floor. He lunged for the door and twisted the knob but it wouldn't budge. Desperately, he tried to break down the door, knuckles bleeding and eyes teary. He could feel the Winter Soldier getting closer to him and was too terrified to turn back and face him. He broke through the door with a splitting crack, splinters in his hands. Awaiting on the other side was a long dimly lit corridor lined with bars and cold concrete walls. 

His heart stopped. 

He knew this corridor. 

He would always know this corridor. 

He didn't want to go forward, but he had no choice. Breaking into a sprint, not looking back and praying he didn't trip over himself, he felt a sudden, strong grip on his leg, pulling him backwards. Landing on the hard concrete with a groan and turning himself to face his captor: Two dark, army clad figures awaited him. He shuffled away from them as fast as he could but couldn't get to his feet fast enough to avoid being dragged to by his feet towards the bathroom. His screams echoing off the walls, and hands burning from friction against the cement floor at his attempts to escape their grasp.

He couldn't believe what was happening, he thought he was free from Hydra. 

Free from these corridors. 

Free from the chair.

He felt his nails fruitlessly catching on the small ridges of the cement floor as he was mercilessly dragged. The hallway enclosed in darkness behind him and the bathroom light ahead of him, serving as a beacon of pain and suffering. 

He was left on the bathroom floor, shaking and crying, accentuated by the sound of the slamming of a steel door. His teary eyes searched for the figures but found none. Instead, his eyes landed on the dull gleam of the worn metal frame in his bathtub, tinged with small droplets of blood, smoothed down edges, and strained leather straps.

If he wasn't sobbing before, he was now. He felt so trapped, his heart beating out of his chest; his lungs made of tin, unable to expand.

His shaking frame was folded on the floor by the bathroom door. A few moments of silence flooded by the drops of his sink tap and his attempts to catch his breath. 

Abruptly, a handful of his hair was grabbed, his body dragged to the chair as he let out seethes of pain and cries. 

He was held down in the chair as he was strapped in by faceless, dark army figures. Soft whispers and murmurs of pleas for mercy and forgiveness settled around him, originating from every vent and faucet in his bathroom, nestled their way to his ears. 

They grew louder and droned out the sound of leather going through buckles and the mechanical "wrrrrr" of the head plates assembling towards the top of the chair. 

He struggled and screamed, but it was no use. 

Trapped in the chair, no chance of escape; Limited by his mind and not his body. 

He anxiously waited and dreaded for the excruciating pain of electricity to course through his body, to hear the words Hydra spent so much time and care to drill into his mind.

But both never came.

He awoke with a startle, eyes wide, body and blanket soaked with sweat, lungs gasping for breath. 

His window open, letting in his neighbors everyday routine squeeze into his apartment. 

The TV on a low volume, playing auctions for nic-nacs and heirlooms people didn't find use for. All drowned out by his racing thoughts and attempts at breathing.

The blanket pooled around his waist as he shifted to lean against the wall, closing his eyes and trying to focus on his breathing. 

He needed his hair gone. 

Like a wounded animal, he made his way to the bathroom with shaky breaths and uneasy strides. He flipped the bathroom light on, feverishly opening and closing drawers to find what he needed most.

A pair of scissors.

A raspy sigh left his lips as his hands met the plastic frame of the twin bladed tool.

His eyes shifted from his reflection to his hold on the scissors. 

Carefully, he brought his metal hand to his hair, extending one of his many locks of hair.

His eyes drifted from the lock of hair to the metal blades that almost fully encased it. 

Snip.

He watched as the lock frayed till it was severed completely, feeling the freed lock in his hand and watching it fall to the counter.

A sigh of relief left his lips as tears pricked his eyes as he met his reflection in the mirror. 

Snip.

Snip.

Snip. 

His tears were flowing fully down his cheeks as almost the entirety of his left side was covered in frayed, unevenly cut hair. 

He gingerly ran his flesh hand along his head, relishing in the short tufts of hair, and began repeating the same frenzied cutting on the other side of his head, and towards the back

If the tears weren’t flowing before, they were now. 

He placed the scissors onto the hair ridden counter with a clang, keeping his relieved gaze on himself, feeling his chest wrack with sobs, body slowly crumbling against the sink and to the floor.

He had never felt such relief in his life. 

His hands ran over the chopped hair, savoring the uneven patched of hair, his head laying back to rest against the wood cabinet below his sink,  eyes fluttering shut.

Muffled knocks softly rose his mind from the depths of sleep. 

He let his eyes adjust to the bathroom light, feeling his neck ache from how he slept against the drawers of the cabinet. 

Sam. 

He rose up to his feet with a groan, trudging to his front door.

His front door opened with a click.

“Hey, man-woah.”

He rose his eyes to meet Sam’s wide ones, giving him a small smile, “Hi, Sam.”

Sam swallowed.

“Late night hack job, huh?”

He gave Sam a tight-lipped smile, nodding. 

Sam’s lip quirked. 

“I, um, I made something for you if you’d like to try it.”

Sam watched as he rubbed the back of his neck with his flesh hand.

He moved from the door, leaving it open for Sam to come in.

Sam carefully stepped into his apartment, taking in the rumple of blankets on the livingroom floor. 

“It’s chicken tikka masala, my therapist recommended it.”

Sam took the plastic container he held out for him.

“Thanks for this…We should go get you a haircut. You can’t be walking around Brooklyn looking like you had a blender cut your hair.”

His lip quirked, nodding.

After a few minutes, he met him back at the front door in jeans, a t-shirt, and his bomber jacket, and glove.

“Ready to go?”

He wordlessly nodded, closing, and locking the door behind them. 

—

“Alright, what do you think?” 

The hairdresser adjusted his chair so he could see himself fully in the mirror. 

He could feel his eyes glaze over.

His previously poorly chopped locks were no where to be found, replaced by almost buzzed cut hair with a bit of length towards the top. Barely enough for anyone to get a good grip in.

“It’s perfect, thank you Melissa,” he muttered to the woman that gave him a kind smile in return. 

He tried to hand the man at the cashier station some cash, but Sam interjected with his card.

He looked at Sam with slight bewilderment.

“You’ll cover me next time.”

His lip quirked, as Sam nudged his shoulder as they made their way to the exit.

He stopped in front of a window for a store on the way back to his apartment, seeing his reflection in the storefront.

And for once, he didn’t have a deeprooted distaste or fear of what he saw. 

It almost made him cry.

He needed this.

His long hair gone. The last remnant of his time in Siberia, of the shackles that held his mind down under water like an anchor, gone. 

Out of sight. Out of mind.

Sam stopped a few paces ahead of him.

“You wanna stop in?”

Sam’s voice broke him from his trance.

He gave Sam a small smile.

“No, just taking it all in.”

Sam gave him a comforting smile as he caught up with him.

They continued on to his apartment to give Sam some of his chicken tikka masala, running his hand through his hair periodically with a smile on his face. 

[sw33t-t00th-4u]

hi everybody sorry i haven’t been active on this account! between the anime brain rot and other things happening in my personal life, i kinda forgot abt this account LMFAOOOO

that being said, i’ve been thinking about making a post about a certain blog for a minute and due to recent events, i feel more compelled than ever. i don’t think they have a big following or anything, but please take the time to read this before you consider buying a tarot reading from @/livingdeaddivination or supporting them financially in any way. i’ll try to keep it short and sweet lol. (⚠️ tw: loss, pet neglect)

i knew “anan” in real life, and they used to be my friend. i’m feeling especially hurt lately because anan wished death upon my best friend, who spent the last two years of her life battling a rare cancer that only 30 something people on this whole planet have. she wanted to be the first person to beat it. she was so close, but she unfortunately lost that battle last week, and anan got their wish. im heartbroken and angry and i feel so empty without her. anan’s exact words were “i hope the cancer kills her quick”. i’m heartbroken and angry and i feel so empty without her, and this is what anan wanted. if someone claiming to be as spiritual as she does speaking something like that into existence doesn’t deter you from supporting her financially, please keep reading.

very little, if any, of the money they could possibly make from these readings will go toward the wellbeing of her pets, as she’s very negligent towards them. i witnessed it first hand. she not only separated 5 out of 7 young kittens from their mother too early and selfishly kept two of them along with the mother, but she hardly put in any effort when it came to taking care of the four cats she had. she never cleaned her cat’s litter boxes and her cats also had worms and fleas and were in bad shape. my late best friend even offered to give her medicine to treat them for free, and she refused it. two of those four cats ran away, and instead of rehoming her remaining two cats, they live outside. not only that, but she had a hamster that she was “scared” to take care of. their hamster was in a small wire cage instead of a proper enclosure, and they would often take out the wheel because “it was annoying”. she kept her hamster in her closet and didn’t feed her, give her water, clean her cage, or even let her run around in a hamster ball. thst hamsyer lived like that for two months, though there's no telling how much of that time the hamster was actually alive for. she neglected that poor hamster to death after i provided her with all the things she could possibly need as i had two hamsters pass away from old age and i had taken care of her for a few months beforehand. had i know that that would be that hamster’s fate, i would’ve never given that hamster back to them.

there’s absolutely more that i could say, but like i said, i wanna keep it short. i didn’t want to make a post so soon because i didn’t want to say anything irrational out of grief, but nothing i could say could ever be as irrational as anything anan has ever said and done. i’m sure if they see this post, they’ll just deflect and make me look bad, block me, delete their account, and make a new one and pretend like nothing happened, but i needed to get this off my chest. if you read this far, thank you, and please keep this in mind before supporting @/livingdeaddivination financially in any way.

[cordrot]

name:      cherry!  pronouns:    she/her.    she/her preference of communication:     i prefer disco usually!   i feel like things normally start off on tumblr ims and then it’s a natural progression to discord,   but i also don’t mind just hopping straight in from disco!  most active muse:    currently,   it’s tess because the brainrot is so unbelievably real but @ltdice is always taking up most of my (1) braincell so there’s that too experience / how many years:     god i really don’t know how long i’ve been doing this i mean it’s been so long?!   it’s almost a bit of a blur really but i’m pretty sure i started out when i was around 12 years old so that would be around   ...   12 years now.   holy cow that’s half my life platforms you use:     tumblr and disco!   i’ve been a lot more active on disco lately just because things are a bit busy with work and what not and it’s also just a lot easier / more accessible.   but i am still predominantly on tumblr,   esp with the creation of this tess blog because this has really bolstered my muse to be writing on here!  best experience:      honestly?   i think this past year and a bit has been my best experience on here simply because of the people that i’ve met and gotten close to?   i’ve been writing on tumblr for a really long time and for a lot of that time,   i was writing in groups and we all know that the lifespan of groups is not particularly great so i was involving myself in a lot of stop/start development?   and then when i finally made the switch to indie,   i was definitely enjoying it more too but i also think that the connections i made initially were a lot more surface level and not as meaningful to me in comparison to the connections i have now?   like i truly appreciate the friends i have made on here so much,   no matter how much or how little we chat,   i know that there’s a genuine level of support,  care and connection there?   which has really made my time on here so much better honestly!  rp pet peeves:    oh gosh i don’t know i feel like honestly not a lot actually annoys me on here idk if that sounds weird maybe i just don’t follow annoying people ... lol but i’ve never been a fan of guilt tripping of course,   like making people feel bad if you’re lacking interaction or something when you might not be trying to get interaction yourself?   i also am not a huge fan of,   i don’t really know how to word this,   but i feel like entitlement might be a good word?   like if you follow someone and then softblock them because they haven’t made an attempt to interact yet but you haven’t either?   everything on here is a two way street and i think sometimes people forget that!   you have to put in effort and interest to get it back from others as well.   because i also think maybe sometimes people forget that this is just a hobby and sometimes we’re not always around all the time but that shouldn’t be taken as a sign of disinterest either!  fluff,   angst,   or smut:      honestly i am a sucker for angst i just love?!   being hurt!   it’s as simple as that!   but i also love fluff so much because i think it’s so wonderful to be able to develop and write about the softer sides of relationships/friendships/etc it’s just so sweet!   and smut is totally dependent on the relationship between the muses + the relationship i have with the mun too.   i feel like in past years i haven’t written a ton of smut just because i don’t think i’m really that good at it anyway but in more recency,   it’s been something i’m more interested in exploring if the circumstances call for it!  plots or memes:     both!!   i love chatting about plots like i could ramble all day about plot ideas and dynamics etc,   so it’s something i enjoy a lot!   but i also think memes are a great way to get things started too which is why i always frame my memes in a way that makes it easy   ( or,    i would hope so at least )    for people to use it as a starter if they wish to!  long or short replies:   i think i probably fall somewhere in between long and short,   really?!   but it all depends on my mood as well as the thread itself.   i can definitely write a lot if the situation calls for it best time to write:      if i’m working from home,   i like to write during the day sometimes if i have a bit of free time here and there but i do most of my writing i think in the evenings!  are you like your muses:      in some ways,  yes!   i tend to be drawn to quite chaotic muses so in that case yes because i am very chaotic?!   but a lot of the similarities between the muses i like writing are the fact that they’re certified badasses who can kick your ass and look good doing it but i can confirm that i am ..... not that so 🤍

tagged by:    @gunbash  ily!!  tagging:      @dtperez , @51163 , @battlehood , @cordecept , @infectd , @lth4ngman , @destage / @enhaunts , @wolfehunt , @statesangria , @batfall , @riverspat , @engests​ , @gurrillero​ , @wtrss​ and anyone else who wants to do it tag me!! 

[petri808]

List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the ask box of people who mean something special to you. Share some happiness 🌺💜

Right now, it’s been tough so the things that make me happy are more like goals.

1) I enjoy writing, but haven’t been able to do much in over a year. So, little by little, even if it’s a sentence I push myself to do something. I’m proud of myself for finishing a secret Santa story on time this year!

2) the friends I’ve made online have gotten me though a lot of the tough times, so please know I love you guys a lot! Getting back to you all helps to motivate me to get better 💜 and I’ll try to pop into Discord here and there when up to it. Oh, and I even got to meet two of you irl this August! You know who you are. That’s something I’ll remember for the rest of my life.

3) related to above is interacting with the fandom. I had to drop out of the nalu blog cause I couldn’t keep up anymore. Giving up sucked, since I’d been doing it since fall of 2018, but it wasn’t fair to everyone else to let it flounder. Seeing it continue makes me really happy.

4) my irl bestie of 27+ years has been living with me for a couple years while their family home is rebuilt after a fire. It’s made me undeniably happy to be able to help her, and her helping me through all the shit I’ve been dealing with. I’m blessed to have such an amazing friend. I’d lost tough with most of our old friends from hs, but this has motivated me to rekindle the relationships.

5) lastly, imma be selfish and say myself cause I’m proud I didn’t give up. 20 years ago this strife might’ve led to suicide, so that means I have gotten stronger. Looks like I just have more information I can stick in a story 🙃lol. Making myself happy is a big motivator.

Even with help, surviving whatever happens to you is ultimately due to your own efforts of not giving up, so Always remember to pat yourselves on the back!

I’m right with you girl 🥹✊ @cstorm86 it’s been a hell of a ride lately, but you’re a survivor! You got this! 💪

I’ll explain why I’ve been MIA from here for so long below.

From spring 2019 to august 2021 so much crap happened with my family. My uncles cancer/death revealed an explosive skeleton in the family closet that left my grandma homeless in November 2019. Neither her surviving kids would take her for selfish reasons so she lived with me. She was doing so well!… but In September 2020 her daughter finally took her, stuck her in a room sending her health plummeting and she died by the following April 2021. The final straw was my mom dying from Covid in august 2021 because my trumpster half-siblings who didn’t believe in Covid brought it home. They’re now all dead to me. I’ve also been having a lot of medical problems on top of this so, in September 2021 I just… cracked… Three psychiatrists, two anti-depressants, one antipsychotic, and two therapists later I’ve finally found a good therapeutic fit. Psychotherapy is tough but I really like it and I think I’ve started the road to recovery. I highly recommend this form of therapy when you need to fully break free from past traumas.

[forabeatofadrum]

You know what fuck it actually, answer all the writers asks that you haven’t already answered yet PLUS another #25 if you have already answered it bc you can be proud of multiple scenes HAPPY EL WOOWOO WEDNESDAY

I should've seen this coming. I am putting this under the cut because this got long. Again, I should’ve seen this coming.

I’ve already answered 5, 8, 9, 13, 18 and 25.

1) is there a story you’re holding off on writing for some reason?

I MEAN... look at my many, many WIPs. I think the main reason for holding off a fic is because I got stuck, or because I want to prioritise other fics. I’m trying to not take on new projects, but instead focus on older ones (famous last words, probably).

2) what work of yours, if any, are you the most embarrassed about existing?

Anything written pre-2015, unless I have rewritten them (like This Charming Man or the SBL/Glee crossover). That, except for JTWLYT, even rewritten it’s bad. I don’t mind, You gotta start somewhere, right? Because otherwise I don’t really mind any fics. Like, I wrote a Glee/Animal Crossing fic once and it slaps.

3) what order do you write in? front of book to back? chronological? favorite scenes first? something else?

Mostly chronological, but it doesn’t really matter. So yeah I write what I have in my mind. For example with Ljubim te, I of course knew there were going to be 24 chapters since it’s the Advent, so I plotted out a little bit what happens in all chapters and by now each chapter has at least something.

4) favorite character you’ve written

Jack motherfucking Zimmermann, even though I have abandoned my boy and I haven’t written proper Check, Please! fic in all of 2022. I want to finish two Zimbits WIPs this year, though. Maybe the attic vs. roaches debate breaching containment will bring me back to this fandom. Aly, what would you rather have? A person living in your attic, or 1000 roaches living in your attic?

6) something you would go back and change in your writing that it’s too late/complicated to change now

Oh I change things without shame. I do point it out in the author’s note, in case someone notices.

7) when asked, are you embarrassed or enthusiastic to tell people that you write?

This is a difficult question. WAIT NOT ALY THIS IS ME AFTER POSTONG THE ASK I FORGOT TO ANSWER THIS ONE I WILL DO THAT LARER CAUSE I NEED TO GO TP UNI NOW!!

OKAY ALY I AM BACK (and also hello to others!)

So, this is a difficult question because I have the Fear of Being Perceived by people I know IRL. Not necessarily because I think they will judge me, but this is just something I’ve ever had. This is also why I am not going to karaoke night tonight. As a result I do not tell people I write, but not because I am embarrassed. I have just always kept my online and offline lives separately, you know? And this has only grown over the years. I have, like, one person I know IRL follow my personal blog and I created this blog because I do not want him to see my stuff. It’s literally in the bio of this blog. This is also why my name isn’t on here, although I do not mind when people use it in asks or replies. It’s not foolproof, I am aware, but it’s how it is.

But I am also fucking proud of my work and I an enthusiastic. This is why I love ask games like this or communites on Discord. I put a lot of time and effort into my work so of course I love to blabber about it. The person I mentioned above? Yeah, he knows I write fic. But I made him promise to not go look for it. Now I did meet some people who unabashedly talk about what filth they post on AO3. And I told these people I write fic to. But I am always feeling that hesistant feeling. I told them vaguely about Bakery fic and So Much Better, but I am never going to send them the link so if they want to find it, they can, but I will not be the one giving my AO3 away. (Rip. I never kudo their fics either for this reason, cause my AO3 account will pop up).

Aka it is just kind of weird.

10) write in silence or with background noise? with people or alone?

I CAN NEVER WRITE WITH PEOPLE AROUND. This is why, when I visit my parents’ house for the weekend, I write less. I recently told Jenna (@thnxforknowingme, not Ushkowitz) that I am shook that she can write at work. I cannot relate.

I don’t like silence in general. I always have sound on, but it doesn’t really matter what. I am currently listening to The Last Five Years lockdown version, but I also just put on video essays that I have seen before, or gaming music, or YouTuber content. Only when I have a specific song/playlist for a fic, I tend to actively choose what I put on, like the playlist for River fic was on repeat during the writing. And Nothing Matters When We’re Dancing is my song for “damn Baz, you live like this”/Time After Time. That kind of stuff.

11) what aspect of your writing do you think has most improved since you started writing?

Uh. Everything. But I am also not too harsh on myself. I was 13. I am 24 now. And my English has improved. Fun fact, I did not know the difference between make out and break up for a very long time.

OH AND I LEARNED HOW TO DO PROPER PARAGRAPH BREAKS

12) your weaknesses as an author

Movements. Setting. That kind of stuff. When two people are in a scene and talk, I love the dialogue but I am constantly like “oh God, what else is going on in this scene?”

I am writing a scene for Ljubim te with Kurt and Sunil in a restaurant and I am constantly like “DON’T FORGET THEY NEED TO EAT!!!”

14) do you make playlists for your current wips?

Not right now. I don’t make playlists for my fics that often, unless I want to integrate the music into the fic (again, see River fic). Or I make a playlist AFTER I am done, like my Myosotis playlist.

15) why did you start writing?

Fanfiction? When I first read Harry Potter when I was around 11, but I used to write stories before that. Shout out to TEENZZONE and my first ever gay character that I made when I was 10 and then I got scared cause oooooh homosexuality scary!!! ooooh taboooo!!!! and erased it and made him marry a lovely woman named Daisy but then years later I was like “fuck it he’s bi then”

16) are there any characters who haunt you?

Oh, uh? The first ever gay now bi character from TEENZZONE I guess. Fuck, was Danny his name, or was Danny the guy who came before Daisy? Look, I was 10. Ik zat in groep 7, of misschien zelfs 6. It’s been 14 years.

17) if you could give your fledgling author self any advice, what would it be?

It doesn’t have to be perfect. I am not a published author. This is all for fun. Besides, I read a lot of fic that maybe aren’t “that good” in the eyes of whoever decides what’s good, but I still enjoy them and that’s what matters in the end. I write for me and me alone and hopefully people like it too and we will all have a banging time.

19) when it comes to more complicated narratives, how do you keep track of outlines, characters, development, timeline, ect.?

Not

Jk jk

I often have a little section in my doc with “Information”, like a timeline or people’s names or what is happening when. The one for Ljubim te has the names of my OCs and the street names of where Kurt and Blaine live. I am thinking of also making a timeline, because there are some time jumps between chapters, although I also try to point out what month it is in the chapter itself.

20) do you write in long sit-down sessions or in little spurts?

Depends on how inspired I am. I write when I have an idea. Sometimes things snowball from there, sometimes it’s to only add one line.

21) what do you think when you read over your older work?

Define older. As I said, everything before 2015 I pretend I do not see, but after that I actually reread a lot of my stuff. Hence the “I write for me and me alone” mentality. I reread Mendacious this week. And I haven’t read the Anyway series in years and I kind of want to.

22) are there any subjects that make you uncomfortable to write?

There are too many to list, but from the top of my head: non-con/dub-con, detailed slavery or kidnapping or something like that, graphic violence, MPREG, fic with one being a minor other an adult.

23) any obscure life experiences that you feel have helped your writing?

GIRL MY MAIN STARTING POINT FOR KLAINE FIC THESE DAYS IS “WHAT PART OF MY LIFE CAN I LIFT FROM??”

Mendacious: a conversation I had with one of my friends about internalised homophobia

River fic: lol (my broken friendship) (it’s almost Real Blaine’s birthday) (ah, then it will have been 4 years since I last saw him)

Ebb & Flow: my love for Splatoon 2

Bakery fic: me being obsessed with a documentary about rich people in Dubai

Ljubim te: I miss Ljubljana

So yeah, sometimes it influences the plot (Mendacious and River fic) and sometimes it is more a starting point for me to build upon, but it’s my liiiiiiiife it’s not or neverrrrrr-

Also, okay, I am writing this Snowbaz fic called Just Some Guy from an outsider POV and that is coming from me very much believing that Baz is not that hot. Simon is just in love with him. Sorry Baz fans.

24) have you ever become an expert on something you previously knew nothing about, in order to better a scene or a story?

Expert? I wouldn’t say that, but I do learn about obscure things like Broadway orchestra subbing. And of course I had that entire chapter about neurobiology in Myosotis sylvatica. But I can’t say I am an expert on things.

25) copy/paste a few sentences or a short paragraph that you’re particularly proud of

You can get some All the pretty things lore as a treat.

“As if in every lifetime you and I have lived, we’ve chosen to come back and find each other and fall in love all over again, over and over for all of eternity. And I just feel so lucky that I found you so soon in this lifetime because all I want to do, all I’ve ever wanted to do is spend my life loving you.”

This is how All the pretty things ends. Obviously it is not my writing. This is a direct quote from Glee. I may hate the proposal but they went hard with the speech. But I knew I needed to end the fic with this quote, since it actually inspired the entire premise of the fic. They hop through all these dimensions and in every one of them they find each other to go on to the next. And they grow stronger in the process. I do not know if this fic would be this fic without this quote.

For my own writing, I am really happy with the “emotional climax” of Paradiso 1 and Time After Time, but shhhhh spoilers, you gotta read that for yourself. But a shareable part that I am admittedly obessed with is from The Naked Truth:

We’re acting like a bunch of hormonal teenagers, but I don’t care. We’re high on energy and love. The moment we get to my flat and I close the door behind us, I press him against it and he laughs.

Again, there’s so much laughter.

Is this what love is like? Endless exuberant laughter? I revel in the sound of his joy.

I wrote this because I used “he laughs” or “I laugh” or “we laugh” A LOT in this fic up to the point that it was making me wonder if it’s bad writing, so I just put it in the story. Hooray.

ALY I FUCKING DID IT.

[yanet0121]

As I began looking at my posts on my blog, a lot of what I saw was about familial ties. It’s funny because my family is probably one of the most discombobulated dysfunctional families anyone could ever come from. My sisters don’t speak to each other, nor do they speak to my mom unless it’s insults. I haven’t spoken to my dad in years and I’m the only one who speaks to my sisters and mom separately. You can see through my work that I yearn for unity and love. In my first post I analyzed The Lunatic of Etretat in which I spoke about a woman who lost her mind either because of a death of her child or because she couldn’t conceive. I was able to feel the pain she felt because I am in constant fear about not being able to have children, I have irregular periods where I don’t get them for years and have fertility issues in my family. Not being to have a child might literally destroy me as a woman. I genuinely understand why women put themselves through IVF because you feel like such a failure not being able to start your own family. I practically don’t have a family other than my husband’s side. I literally must plan two separate parties just for my side of the family in order to get my sisters to attend and that’s without my mom coming. It’s sad to me and while I’ve been coming more and more at peace with it, I don’t want my children to live a life like mine. To feel like they’re so unwanted by family, that their own family can’t even suck it up for a couple of hours to spend time together during the holidays. Which moves me onto my next piece, Gong by Pierre Alechinsky. This piece gave me a feeling of movement, I always remind myself that if you stay still then you’ll get sad. You must move yourself, your thoughts, your emotions. You must process what’s going on and come to terms with it. You cannot let it build it inside you. The saturation of blues and whites peeking through made me see movement, even with the gong which seemed to radiate sound helped me feel peace. The background of the gong is of East Asian culture and Buddhists which are about acceptance and letting things be. I’ve come to accept that I cannot change people, nor can I expect others to change for me. If someone is a piece of shit then that’s them but that isn’t the type of energy I want in my life. I guess the theme of my manifesto is regeneration, within myself and the family I am creating. I cannot keep fighting to check those who step out of line with me. If you cannot respect my boundaries, my needs and wants then that is you and I will need to reevaluate if you are the type of person I deserve in my life. The last peace I will include in my manifesto is A Mother’s Love, A New Generation. Straight photography. Photos by my sister and I which include our dogs, also known as our fur babies. In this piece I speak on the amount of time, love, energy and money we invest in our dogs and how we just don’t see them as animals we own but as part of our families. Even in the title I tie in regeneration, where I speak on how my sister and I are creating our own families with our significant others and pets. I believe the reason why we provide so much love and effort to our pets is because we are making up for the neglect and abuse we faced as children and we both have spoken on breaking generational curses. Overall, I will not be the trauma I faced as a child, I will overcome everything ive been through and I will not allow it to affect the way I raise my children. I will become a newer better person, the person I deserved as a child and the person my husband deserve. I refuse to allow my trauma define me, I will regenerate into a better person because I am not my past. My pieces through this semester all stem from change and movement, the ability not only see the pain and struggles but feel it allows me to be sympathetic but understanding in a sense that shit happens, but you have to keep going. (A poke at another piece in my blog, It Happens, artist Jim Rennert. Located in the corner of Park and 5Th Avenue in downtown Naples)

[noveltea-lolita]

Recently, my girlfriend called a past relationship of mine traumatic, that my reaction to something completely normal and mundane seemed too over the top, especially with the context I gave her.

It made me pause, and I quickly told her the relationship she was referring to was bad, yes, but not traumatic. At least, I didn’t think so.

Nearly a week ago, I brought it up in therapy. My therapist wanted more context so I gave it to her, and the words “abusive” and “trauma” glided off her tongue so easily, but it still made me shudder.

“PTSD can often show up in bpd,” she said.

I only shook my head. But I keep going back to it. That word. Trauma.

I’m twenty four but am stuck at home with no college degree and hardly any money to my name. Thick scars decorate my arms, growing worse and heavier over the years that pass. Only twenty four but I’m a recovered alcoholic, gone through two hospital visits and one partial hospitalization.

These days, I wander in a haze where nothing feels real, where I don’t feel real. I count the days by saying, “seventy days without getting drunk”, “twenty days without a blade”, “three days without a bruise”. Nothing feels true unless I’m with my girlfriend. Nothing has been the same since the end of 2020, where my life was ripped apart, torn right out of my hands by that being we call God.

I hold myself at night, cold, only to wake up grasping my chest and choking on cries. People stand over my bed, distorted by the blackness of my room, but they’re there. I see them. I am afraid to sleep. I am afraid to remember.

But things used to be worse. I no longer wake up caked in my own vomit, only to wash it out and stumble to work. I no longer hide empty bottles in my closet. I no longer sit in parking lots and slice my skin open. I no longer have open wounds against my lips. Things are better.

And yet- I am not stronger. I am a weak shell of who I used to be. Dull, people call me now. Wasted potential. I once held life and color in my hands, it used to spill from my mind, but now I don’t do much but lay in bed and try to breathe.

I’ve started to write again, but it is no match for the darkness and exhaustion that weighs on me. Is this healing? I’ve stopped running from that word- trauma- because I’ve almost died five times. Too much alcohol, too many pills, too many razors, too much pressure on the gas, too much water in the bath. I’ve stopped numbing myself long enough that it’s caught up and now here I am with a permanently fuzzy head, a constant ring in my ears, and a body that gets tired after two hours of wakefulness.

And it makes me question trauma. I have done nothing this past week but lay in bed, occasionally getting out to get a coffee or open my laptop, but the effort. The pain. I crawl back into my bed soon after. But this is good, right? I’m sober. No open wounds. And yet I am in so much agony, I can’t do much of anything any more. I can’t even sleep.

“That relationship didn’t give me trauma, or PTSD. Nothing did because I don’t have that” I said to my therapist. “I’m not fine, but I’m not that bad.”

Because, no. That relationship didn’t give me ptsd, but I’m starting to realize just how… affected I’ve become by things. That relationship, sure, but the grief, the cutting, the reactions, the fighting, the sleeping, the bleeding. It’s gotten so bad, the physical symptoms have started to plague me.

I can’t remember certain things. My girlfriend is wickedly sharp, she recalls things we did so easily and yet i fumble. Did I even lock the door? Did I make sure to lock the windows? Did I feed the cat? For so long, I panicked there was something wrong with my brain, a tumor or something, but now I know it is nothing of the sort. It is just the horrific experiences. And it is sobering.

I haven’t used this blog for reasons such as these before, but simply put I’m terrified. There has been so much wrong with me in the past four years that I’m terrified I’ve crossed a line.

“I’m not that bad” I said curled up in bed with the lights on at 2am, every bone pushing against my skin, and something sour in my stomach. The scars covering my arms itching. “I’m not that bad”

[nikgannonphotography]

Sydney Street Files: Natural Progression Part 2

In my last blog post I spoke about failure and fitting in with your peers in the creative landscape. I am finally at a place where I am comfortable to share some of my creative road bumps and speak on the process to improve my photography

When I got my first real camera, I expected instant results. Safe to say they didn’t come, and every time I look back on my trip to New Zealand I regret not putting in more effort before I went on this trip.

I was driven towards photography after excitement and inspiration from a photograph I took while in Bali. I didn’t know how to take photos yet, I had just accidentally taken a cool photo that eventually inspired me to look further into the art form. I wasn’t a particularly artistic teenager, so stepping into photography was strange but exciting. It also wasn’t something I thought would require as much hard work as it did.

Reacting to moments of inspiration isn’t a bad thing, but it may build a false sense of security. I was convinced that I would get my new camera and I would instantly know how the settings worked, have an understanding of composition, and have pro-edit skills (because how hard can it really be?). I went from taking one simple, slightly artistic photo on my phone to believing I was going to be a Master of Photography. My naivety took me for a ride in New Zealand gave me a kick in the backside I desperately needed to improve.

The truth is that I was lost when I got my first camera. I hadn’t dedicated time towards learning anything about photography. I was utterly clueless. This resulted in a really poor shooting experience while in New Zealand, and I regret not taking the time to learn how it worked before I set off on my trip. 

I didn’t yet understand the functions of my camera, which ultimately took away from focusing on real compositions. To this day, I have not found a single RAW file from the two-week trip that I want to go back and edit. It was rough. 

My aim is to go back to New Zealand and finish what I started: capturing photos I actually enjoy looking at. While I like sharing my work, most of my photos haven’t ever been shared because my main focus at this point is to create memories for me, not for an audience. The first step is to enjoy my own work and once I feel proud enough to share something I will. Above is the only photo I slightly enjoy from that trip, and even then it’s terrible. Why did 17-year-old me think the slant looks good?