#I’m still salty about the deleted last light save

[froggyfeetsies]

Went into dark urge thinking I was a hardnut who could roll my way out of anything and

[kyber-crystal]

➳ good enough || s.r.

summary: after a long week you’re left completely exhausted. steve comforts you and helps you unwind. 

words: ~1.6k 

warnings: slight mentions of violence, angst, angst-to-fluff, a lil friends-to-lovers (i’m SORRY literally all of my oneshots are some variation of this but i just can’t resist), minor age gap? (if you call 5 years a lot). also civil war happened but they resolved it so 2017 au teeheeeeee

a/n: this sucked omg. why is my writing going downhill. also this is a red-room-turned-agent-reader who helped steve adjust when he came out of the ice bc i love cliche love backstories hehe...i tried to be very descriptive here but that failed oops. this is prolly one of my worst fics ever (it’s unedited) but my other one got deleted so i’m uploading this in its place!

Steve knew something was wrong the minute you came back from your mission. You always acted a bit off the first few days following your return, but for some reason, today seemed different. For the past week you'd been blatantly avoiding his gaze, refusing to meet his eye unless forced to. 

You don’t even return Sam and Bucky’s sarcastic one-liners - and you always make sure to send a cheesy joke right back at them. It’s not typical for you to be so quiet and reserved like this; frankly, it scared him. 

He knows that as a former Red Room assassin, you never had it easy. As the youngest of the twenty-eight dancer-disguised warriors, you were merely eight years old when you were admitted (Natasha was thirteen). At eight, there was much you didn’t know. You were naive, easily shaped to conform to the strict rules they’d set out for you. 

But despite all the hell you’d gone through in the past, you managed to find it in your heart to forgive and create a compassionate nature towards others. Especially him. He always wondered what he deserved to get someone like you-- he felt more than lucky to have you in his life.

It was 4 a.m, and his insomnia was at its worst. It had peaked ever since he’d come out of the ice - he was 27, had so much of his life before him before it was abruptly put to a stop. But then he met you, with your warm eyes and kind smile that was such a sharp contrast to the girl you used to be. 

The sound of muffled shouts coming from across the compound makes him look up - he sets down his mug of coffee and immediately heads down the hall to see what���s going on. 

Steve carefully pushed open the glass doors to the training facility, seeing you standing in front of a punching bag and attacking the hell out of it with an almost murderous look in your eyes - one he’d never seen before. The tape around your knuckles were splattered with your crimson blood. Despite the dim lighting, he could see the outlines of fresh bruises all over your arms and shoulders. The sight made bile rise up in his throat. He felt his heart break.

Every heavy blow of your fists was accompanied by a ground-shaking boom that echoed across the gym, unleashing the monster trapped inside. You pick up the pace and increase your speed, channelling all your pent-up anger and frustration and guilt into what you were doing. 

It hurts. You would give anything to get rid of the pain. It hurts like hell, but you would trade living a regret-ridden life for a guilt-free one in a heartbeat if that’s what it takes. Besides, you’ve experienced far worse before-- six-inch knife wounds, bullets to the abdomen and upper arms, broken ribs and noses. This should be a walk in the park.

The concerned super-soldier stood several feet away and observed you, silently watching you murdering the poor punching bag that’s barely withholding all the fury you’ve poured into pummeling it; it was about to burst at the seams.

“Y/N.” You didn’t hear him and kept going, so he repeated himself again. “Y/N.”

“What?” you snapped, keeping your gaze trained in front of you. “What the hell do you want?”

“Shouldn’t you be in bed? It’s late. What’s keeping you up at this hour?”

“Nothing,” you replied plainly, but he caught the brief flash of a grief-stricken look cross over your expression and your eyes glaze over, “I’m fine. Leave me alone.”

“You clearly aren’t. Y/N, talk to me. Please.”

“I told you, I’m,” you increased the force of your fists with each word you spoke, as you felt your eyes stinging, “just, fine!”

“Y/N...” he whispered, so softly, as if he was afraid he’d break you with a single sentence. 

That was the last straw. The tears spilled over. Your vision began to blur as you didn’t even bother to wipe them away. The broad-shouldered super-soldier, your fists, and the punching bag and everything insight are turned into blurry, shapeless blobs. You try blinking them away but it was no use; but you keep going. 

“Please tell me what’s going on. Tell me what’s wrong...please don’t shut me out. I only want to help.”

“Leave me alone,” you repeated with a growl, arms now aching with the pain of a thousand tiny needles. But he doesn’t, and he stays firmly rooted in his place. You hastily wiped at your nose with your hands. “For gods’ sake, Rogers, leave,” smack “me,” smack “alone.”

Your last punch was so hard the walls shook and caused Steve to take a step back in alarm. But after that, all the fight is gone from you. Your knees buckle from underneath you and your shoulders slump in defeat and you crumble to the floor. A sound so raw and hoarse escapes your lips and it sounds nothing near human. 

The metallic scent of blood mixed with your salty tears and sweat overwhelms your senses and makes your head spin. Suddenly the act of taking in a single breath seems impossible and your chest tightens, preventing you from being able to breathe properly. 

The ever-so-fragile wall that had been struggling to hold your tears at bay finally broke. 

Heaving, wrenching sobs clawed their way up your throat and tore through your already weary heart - escaping in broken, agonized cries and heart-wrenching howls that make Steve feel like his heart is deliberately shattering into a million, tiny fragments of glass. He doesn’t know what to do because for the first time in his life, the woman he’s always seen with her head held high and an unmatched confidence that could almost put the President to shame was vulnerable, letting it all out at once. 

Steve doesn’t ask any questions nor does he push to to speak up, but silently comes over to you and wraps you into a tight hug, cradling you against his chest. Your arms find their way around his torso, pressing your forehead against the soft cotton of his T-shirt as his free hand makes a gentle trek up and down your back. 

As if you were a delicate flower, he carefully brought your head closer and pressed a kiss to your temple, letting his lips linger for a second longer than normal to reassure you. To reassure you that everything would in fact, be okay. Because he was there.

“Don’t leave me...please don’t leave me,” you choked out as he tightened his hold on you. “Please don’t leave.”

“I won’t, darling, I promise,” he cooed, lips brushing against your forehead, “it’s okay. I’m here. You’re okay, we’re okay. Everything’s gonna be just fine.”

Then, the suffocating pressure is eased off your chest, little by little. You began sinking into the comfort of his warm arms and soothing words. And with his reminder that you didn’t have to go through hell and back alone, because he’d be there, you began to heal. 

...

ONE YEAR LATER

“...Joining the Avengers has been one hell of a ride. I went through hell and back, had my fair share of ups and downs and fought in countless wars. But along the way I’ve been blessed with the privilege of getting a built-in second family and making some of the best friends I’ve had in my life. I met my soulmate.” Steve gazed down at you warmly as you spoke, “I honestly had no idea things would ever work out like this but now, I can’t imagine a life without knowing who all these amazing people are.

“It’s been 15 months since the day he saved me.” Everyone immediately fell silent. "I had hit a very, very low point in my life and I was just about ready to give up. It was like I was screaming into a void and nobody was there to catch me when I fell. I felt so helpless and lost. Stuck. If Steve hadn’t come along at the time he did...I don’t know what would’ve have happened instead. So, Steve...I want to thank you...for everything. I can’t even begin to list all the things you’ve sacrificed or done for my sake and I owe you. From this point forward I promise to always stick by your side no matter how rough things get. I promise to love you at your best and your worst; whenever you need me I’ll always be here. No amount of anything I do will ever match what you’ve done, but I can promise you this: I’ll love you until the day I die, ‘til death do us part.

“’Till death do us part,” Steve repeated, smiling through the tears in his eyes. “God, I love you.”

You broke into a gorgeous grin that had him weak at the knees.  “I love you too.”

“The rings, please,” Fury nodded over in Peter’s direction, and the teenager handed them over to the two of you. “Agent Y/N Y/L/N, do you take Captain Steven Grant Rogers to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do,” you said softly, as you put on Steve’s ring.

He turned to the super-soldier. “And Captain Steven Grant Rogers, do you take Agent Y/N Y/L/N to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

Steve took your hand in his and slid the diamond ring over your finger, “I do.”

“Very well, then,” Fury smiled widely, a rare sight. “You may now kiss your bride.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Steve rushed forward and pulled you close, dipping you down low before bringing you back up and kissing you passionately. 

His warm lips serving as a reminder of all that you still had left to live for, that you had so much of your life ahead of you. A life with him.

...

general tags(this is from my old taglist spreadsheet, including mutuals who might be interested): @rynhaswritersblock @purpleskiesstorm @pies-writes-and-more @wxstedhexrt @captainchrisstan @sandystoriess @naomiiiiiiiiiii04 @patzammit @capcapcapsicle @wheresmyjae @thinkingofbuckybarnes @carryonmywaywardbucky @musicalkeys @buckybarnesthehotshot @tombob2005 @zaddychris @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho @sylvie-writes @sis-it-dont-add-up @tonystankschild​ @sunstalgia​

steve rogers/chris evans tags: @speechlessxx @angrybirdcr @stainedsouvenir @marvelfanatic16

permanent tags<3: @poesflygirl @sandwitch-god

[little-red-toyota]

Final good bye to the fandom

TW//Trauma, triggers, nsfw, sexual themes, rape, domestic abuse e.g.

This is gonna be a long ass post…

It has taken me a while to get emotionally strong enough to do this, as I will have to think back at some traumatic events from my past to address some of these things. That's why I waited until I got home from vacation with my family, as it will seriously affect my mood and mental health, and I want to be near my doctor and therapist, just in case.

And also, I know that the majority of those reading this will invalidate me and tell me I am making things up to clear my name. So, I literally have to torment myself to write a blog post people will just brush off as bogus anyway. But I will do it now that I am in safe surroundings. Then it will be off my chest, and I can finally move on. If people will continue stirring up the past, it will be their problem, not mine.

I think I should write one last blog post where I address everything. I have left the TTTE-fandom, but I will write that one as my final goodbye to the fandom. I just have to find out everything I've been accused of so I can properly address them all in order. I might leave out details of my life that is too hard for me to open up about. I know most of you will just invalidate me anyway.

1. The Stepney fic and glorifying rape.

2. My mafia-AU.

3. The Darin incident.

4. Being a pedophile. (Where do they get this from anyway??)

5. Running the NSFW-blog.

6. Drawing penises/boobs on trains. Drawing age-regression art.

Is there more?

Ah... yes! Faking my own suicide, of course!

7. "Faking" being suicidal.

8. Having the audacity to survive and go on living.

9. "Making up" my past trauma to justify writing fics to cope with it.

10. Being a nazi for being interested in WW2 history and for being Norwegian and having so-called nazi-letters in my last name (actual letters of the Norwegian alphabet).

11. Putting a white-supremacist flag (the actual flag of Norway) on my porch on family birthdays and our national day.

12. Being a danger to my daughter.

Anything else that needs to be addressed? What else am I being accused of? Send me a dm and I will add it to the post.

 Okay, I will bump the Stepney fic down a bit as it is the most traumatic thing for me to address, I will save that one for last.

2 and 3. The dark au/mafia au where I gave some TTTE characters some rather dark and unpleasant character traits, and the whole incident with Darin and the pedo-Salty was addressed in this blog post written by my husband last year, so I am not opening that can of worms again: https://little-red-toyota.tumblr.com/post/623743183795470336/in-light-of-recent-events

Even the thing about Toby cheating on Henrietta is addressed there.

As for the au, I never fully explored it as I started losing interest in TTTE around the same time. I found other things to enjoy and TTTE faded into the background and the au was dropped before I even wrote any stories, apart from the one about Toby and Henrietta.

Some people claim, like this lovely individual, that most of the characters were rapists and pedos. No, not most. Only one of each. And I did not write more than one story about rape and suicide. Where does this person even get that from? Someone who told someone who had heard from someone who might have heard….?

Don't spread rumors unless you are sure that they are true.

Anyway, it's all addressed in that blog post in that link. I don't see how this mafia au is any worse than other dark post-apocalyptic or violent aus. It mostly was about the diesel mafia and their illegal businesses, not about sex, even if it did occur now and then. I find the substance abuse in it to be more problematic tbh…  

 4. Being a pedophile.

I don't even know how to defend myself against this one, as I don't even know why people think I am pedophile. They only throw the accusation out with no backing evidence, so I have no idea where it comes from or what it is that makes people think I am one.

Apart from one claim that I had faved "porn" alongside "strangers'" baby photos on DA. I addressed that earlier though. As DeviantArt doesn't sort what you click "like" on, it all ends up in the same folder unless you actively go through it and sort it into categories, which I don't bother most of the time. It also doesn't say WHEN it was added to your faves. So, I can have faved an artistic nude on Saturday, and then faved my friend's family photo on Thursday. It's not like I actively search for porn, get all steamed up and then look at pictures of children. WTF.

The few children I have faved are not from complete strangers, but long-term friends of mine. Yes, it is possible to have friends on the same website. I have actually met a lot of my RL friends through DeviantArt. I posted photos of my daughter when she was a baby, they would fave it and congratulate me. So, I did the same when they had a baby. As simple as that. Nothing weird or perverted about it. Due to people doxxing me last year however, I deleted the photos of me, my husband and my daughter from DeviantArt, so it's no longer there.

Porn isn't allowed on DeviantArt anyway. The nudes there are so-called artistic nudes, and for the most part I use them as pose-references when I draw as it is easier to draw a pose using a nude base and then dress them up once you got the pose right.

"The very naked" centaurs I have faved. Well, I like the mythological creature Centaur. And as far as I know… they do not wear clothes, so how are they NOT nude? Look it up, it's a horse body with a human torso instead of horse head. I don't see them as sexual, but what do I know? Maybe YOU do?

I have no sexual interest in children whatsoever.

 5. Running the NSFW-blog on Tumblr and Twitter.

Yes. I was one of six people modding that blog. ONE of six, so I refuse to take the full blame here.

MerciResolution has openly admitted to being the founder, and she recruited me and some others to modify as the confession load became too heavy for one person to handle alone.

The original blog on Tumblr worked as follows: People would anonymously send a confession to our askbox, we would add a picture (sometimes photoshopped) to the text and post it on the blog. Always tagged as NSFW and with proper trigger warnings if necessary! The blog itself was also marked as explicit, so it didn't appear in searches and such.

For us, this blog was nothing but a joke. We did it for shits and giggles. If anyone took it seriously and thought we got off to the stuff that was posted, we apologize for that, but to us it was just for laughs. And we DID laugh a lot, you guys should have seen the weird shit people sent us sometimes!

We had fun and we never thought anyone would take it seriously, so we never thought of writing "joke" in the description or anything. It never occurred to us that it could be anything but a joke.

We also made a Twitter account for it, also locked for minors. But it was quickly hacked, and someone changed the password so we could no longer access it. We made another account and forgot about the old one…

After a while, the original mods started losing interest and the blog (both on Tumblr and Twitter) became less active. That's when a person I had known for years, and wrongfully trusted, came forward and wanted to take over ownership. So, the ownership was handed over to Russalita/Charlie.

That turned out to be huge mistake!

Me and the other mods had more or less forgotten that the blogs existed, when suddenly someone started bashing me and getting up in my arms over it. I got seriously confused as I hadn't been active on it in almost a year. But as it turned out, Russalita had removed the mature filters and made the accounts open for all the see. Even minors.

And as people knew I was one of the mods, they fired their guns at me. I can see why though, so I'm not pointing any fingers here.

I tried contacting her by phone, asking her to lock the accounts again, but she gave me a less than polite response, hung up and then blocked my number…

So, I decided to try to shut the blogs down on my own, trying the old passwords. It worked on the Tumblr-account, and I managed to password protect it, for some reason it couldn't be fully deleted. But the Twitter account had gotten its password changed by Russalita. I was however able to get a new password by logging into the e-mail we had used to create it. I deleted the Twitter blog fully. It can't be re-activated even if we wanted to. It's gone.

But it turns out the old, hacked one is still up and now open for everyone. And this one poses a huge problem as we have no way of getting into it to delete it. Only thing we have been able to do so far is reporting it and hope it will be removed by Twitter. So I only have one thing to say about it: report it.

I am no longer running any NSFW TTTE blog anywhere, nor do I have interest in doing so. So, if you come across one, claiming to be me or any of the other mods, it is false.

 6. Drawing penises/boobs on trains. Drawing age-regression art.

People seem to believe I have drawn genitals on trains. I have never done such. Any art on the NSFW-blog with genitalia on the trains were sent in by confessors and was not drawn by me. Most of them seems to have been drawn by someone who goes by the name "The Lance".

I HAVE drawn things for the NSFW blog, but there were no genitalia in those drawings. I drew Frank of Arlesdale looking grossed out by (I don't know what the part is named in English, but it is connected to the brakes of the engine) that stick-like thing on his bufferbeam being wet from whatever the confessor did to him. I drew an over-exaggerated comical pic of a horrified Peter Sam getting his face licked by his driver, who had an enormous tongue. I also did a couple of manips. Mostly maniping engine faces on humans, like the one where Gordon's face is on a less than fit guy flailing his shirt around, and the Arlesdale smallies' faces on a movie poster from Magic Mike. One with Mr.Conductor in a giant bun while Pinchy is applying ketchup on him, for a confession about eating him, I think?  I've done some more, but I forgot what it was, I only know I loved making them comical rather than erotic, as I saw the blog as a joke overall.

I HAVE also drawn aheago faces on engines because it looks hilarious. Though I have only drawn them on my OCs and the NRS engines, not TTTE characters.

Point is I have never drawn genitalia on trains. Ever. And I likely never will. It's not THAT much fun drawing NSFW stuff.

I see from this screenshot that a certain MK-Instrumentalist claim that all my personal art is age-regression art and infantilism…

Whose art have you been looking at? Because it's definitely not mine. I have drawn a couple of baby/chibi diesels… But claiming that all of my 700 or so artworks are depicting infantilism and age-regression stuff? I suggest people go have a look for themselves. I haven't drawn that. That MK-guy has been desperately trying to cancel me for ages for reasons only himself know. I don't even know the guy, and he doesn't know me, yet he wants to see me beheaded. Go figure.

I was for a long time bothered by some age-regressor on Tumblr who just wouldn't leave me alone with their weird asks, who tried to force themselves on me and some other artists here. They claim age-regression isn't a fetish, but the shit they sent to my askbox certainly looked like a fetish to me.

I don't want anything to do with that stuff. It weirds me out.

And no. I have never drawn pedophilia or rape art either. This guy can't even make up his mind on which one to accuse me of.

 7 and 8. Faking suicide and having the audacity to survive and go on living.

As many know, after the intense shitstorm against me last summer, thanks to Darin, I attempted suicide. I didn't succeed as my husband came home early. I was gone for a few days but returned when a young boy reached out to me for help as he was being groomed and didn't know who else to turn to.

Recently I saw a screenshot where someone claimed me to have faked suicide, and that I just came back after a few days when everything had died down.

Wow.

I am truly sorry I survived.

I don't remember much from those days to be honest, but as the load became too heavy and the bullying too intense, piling up on 30 years of old trauma… I decided to end it. I must warn you guys who might get triggered now; there are detailed descriptions of a suicide attempt. Proceed with caution. People told me I was a bad mother among other things, having had those same thoughts myself (according to my husband, I am a good mom) and people just confirming them, I thought that my daughter would be better off growing up without me. I could have chosen a more effective suicide method, but I was afraid my daughter would be the first to find me, so I wanted it to be clean and look like I was just sleeping. That way it could be explained as natural causes.

So, I decided to overdose on pills. I downed all pills I could find in the house that had a warning triangle on it (strong pain meds etc.) and then went to my computer to delete my online existence, especially the personal data.

As a former paramedic, I should have known better. Because after half an hour, my body started reacting. But not the way I had hoped and wanted. I started retching and almost vomiting. That's when my husband came home from work and found me. He immediately saw the empty packages and knowing my past suicidal tendencies, he reacted instinctively. He put his fingers down my throat and had me puke everything up, then he called an ambulance and had me admitted to the hospital.

I don't remember anything from the days I spent there. But I have been told they emptied my stomach and gave me lots of fluids. I was then assigned a psychiatrist which I am still seeing today.

I was gone for those days because I was in hospital, not because I was pulling some kind of trick and pretending to have ended myself.

So… I am sorry I "faked" my suicide.

I'm sorry my husband saved me. I am sorry the medics and doctors succeeded in saving my life.

I am sorry I survived and proceeded to live on. If I ever make another attempt, I promise to do better.

Why are you guys so persistent in trying to push people to suicide anyway? Do you get a kick out of it? Why do people have to be pushed to that point before you care?

What did we tell our daughter? Simply that I got sick and had to go to the hospital. She took that well.

I've seen a lot of people wonder why I am still around. Why shouldn't I? Does my daughter deserve to lose her mother over some online crap she doesn't even know about? I owe her to live and watch her grow up, to help her with her homework and whatever else a parent needs to do. I also owe my husband to stay by his side, like I promised him the day we got married. Even if I do not wish to live.

I'm sorry I survived, guys. Really, I am.

 9. "Making up" my past trauma to justify writing fics to cope with it. And 1. The Stepney fic and glorifying rape.

 First… why would anyone make up trauma? It's not like it's a competition to have the worst life, is it?

Sadly, I don't have to make up anything. My life HAS been rocky up until the birth of my daughter. I have been through so much trauma I couldn't even fathom it myself before my therapist listed it all up to me. Until then, I had just been casually talking to her about it, like I would talk about the weather. I didn't cry or get in touch with my emotions even once while telling everything, because I was taught from an early age to never complain, to suck it up and go on. So, no matter what people did to me, I would just smile and go on, even if it killed me inside. I did not want to show any sign of weakness, because then they would attack me. A habit I developed through years of being bullied in school. Never show feelings, just pretend nothing could hurt you, then they would eventually grow tired of it and stop.

Except they never did. They kept going through all my years at school. To such an extent, my boyfriend didn't dare to show himself hanging out with me out of fear of being bullied himself… And as we grew older, he would start cheating on me too. And I kept smiling…

My next boyfriend was a bit older than me, and while that didn't bother me, as we were both well over legal age, it bothered him. We only lasted one year before he bailed out and ditched me out of the blue via an sms.

The next guy… was the one who scarred me for life. Both physically and mentally. A charmer at first of course, until I was trapped. He was unemployed, so he moved in with me, and I paid for everything from food to phone bills. All while he was dating several women behind my back, calling various pay-phone services and in general acted like a manwhore. As I worked as an electrician (also being subject to massive bullying and sexual harassment at work), he would be jealous of all my co-workers and if I ever came home late or worked overtime, he accused me of cheating and was extremely violent about it. He would also isolate me from my friends and family, making me think I couldn't get any other than him. If any of my male friends (almost all my friends are male…) came over, he would give me such hell afterwards, it was easier just to tell them it was a bad time to visit. And after a while, they stopped asking. This guy also demanded sex. Every single day. If I refused, he would punish me, mostly by flogging me with lampcords, belts or whatever else he had at hand. My back is a criss cross map of old, faded scars even now nearly 20 years later. I would have shown you a photo, but I am so self-concious about my body after all the bullying, I hardly even show my face in photos. Maybe one day… but I certainly need more therapy before being able to show naked skin to strangers, even if it's just my back. So I had non-consensual sex with him more often than consensual. It has taken me hours in therapy to even take the word in my mouth and call it by its proper name: rape. I was raped, almost every single day for little over a year, before I found the strength to break out of the relationship and finally throw him out of my house. It all ended when I found some revealing texts on his cellphone, which he was extremely protective of… Texts that revealed that he had engaged in a relationship with a 12 year old girl, and it had been going on for a while. Not only was he cheating on me, but he was a pedophile too. Needless to say, I didn't even let him pack his stuff before I fetched my shotgun and chased him out of the house. I don't know where I got the courage and strength from… but I was furious.

I thought I had gotten rid of him, but no. He started stalking me in public. Hiding behind shelves when I was shopping, his car following mine everywhere I went. I received weird letters in the mail with cut-out letters from newspapers, glued together. On top of all, his creepy, old uncle called me with some rather disgusting suggestions and tried to come on to me really hard. I had to change my phone number, and after coming home to my house and finding out someone had entered my home using a key, only to empty the drawer of my night table, I also had to change the locks of my doors as he had clearly copied the key.

He didn't stop until I got the police involved.

So, when I finally met the guy who would become my husband (or rather, we found out we were made for each other, we had known each other since we were 11 years old), I had major trust issues towards men especially and it took him endless patience and love to break me out of that shell.

But the trauma doesn't stop… or start there.

In the year 2000, on January 4th, I would experience something that made me unable to even look at a train for over 10 years. The Åsta accident (google it). I was a volunteer in the Norwegian Red Cross then, and a paramedic in training. Back then, you were allowed to start training the year you would turn 16. So, I was still 15 when I witnessed the most traumatic event of my life. The day started out calm, we were stocking up the ambulance after delivering a patient to the hospital when we got a call with the code "500", which means "catastrophe". Normally when we get that code it is a rehearsal… so we drove towards the coordinates with the thoughts that this was just an exercise, nothing real… we didn't prepare ourselves mentally… And we ended up in the closest thing to hell I have ever been… The sight of the burning trains, the smells, the sounds, the screaming… I still wake up by nightmares to this day. Though the moment that haunts me the most is when the screaming stopped… because we all knew why… I don't want to go into details, but 19 people died that day. But we also saved 67 people. I try to hold on to that thought. The age limit for starting paramedic training was raised after this, as I wasn't the only one who was too young for an accident of that scale. Today it is 18. A memorial stone has been placed on the site, but I still haven't been able to bring myself to visit it, even if we drive past the site every year on our way to visit family further north in the country. I needed hours of therapy to even be able to ride a train after this. To have gotten to the point where I now volunteer at a heritage railway and is in training to become a driver, is a HUGE step for me. My next goal is to visit the site of the accident.

On to next trauma… A previous employer, a rather large electric company in Norway, whom I worked for 8 years. The first five years were great, we were a close-knit bunch of electricians, and we had a great relationship with the bosses and higher-ups. Our labor union was strong.

It all started changing in 2009 when we got new leaders… and those decided to get rid of everyone who were a member of the union. One by one, they started harassing workers in various ways, trying to get them to quit. In Norway, they need a legal reason to fire you, it's not enough to not like someone. There has to be a good reason to fire someone e.g. theft, neglecting work… Since they didn't have any reasons to fire us, they started making our work lives gradually harder and harder until we would break and find another job. Sadly, one of my co-workers couldn't stand the pressure… He bid us all farewell as normal one Friday and hung himself the following day.. But as I was a girl in a male-dominated profession, I had been taught at an early stage to ignore anything that would hurt me emotionally, just arch my neck and plow through. I kept doing that, despite starting to feel more and more mental and physical pains… even my co-workers pointed out how I was being mistreated before I acknowledged it myself. I tried to tell my boss, but he reacted by treating me worse. So, I went to his boss… and that's when things went to hell. Instead of doing his job and listen, he started harassing me too. He deemed my over-weight a problem, and he started demanding I gave him detailed lists of what I ate and how much I worked out… Completely illegal of course, but by this point I was broken down to the point I thought I was useless and couldn't get another job… so I accepted. He started accusing me of lying about my exercise, so I started training at the gym in the basement at work instead. One day, while I was there, he locked the doors and turned the lights off. There were no windows, no cellphone reception and hardly anyone walking by in that part of the building… I sat there in the pitch dark for 3 hours before I was let back out. I still get badly triggered by narrow, dark rooms and rooms with no windows. To such an extent, I jumped out of a small window on the second floor of a gym when I was in boot camp. I was allowed to train downstairs in the bigger gym with windows on all walls after that incident…

The harassment at work went on for years until I finally snapped, ended up at the hospital and got into therapy for the first time. I don't want to go into depth about what more happened, I just can't… I can't bring myself to write it all. Luckily, I had gotten more education while working, so when I graduated, another company called and gave me an offer I just couldn't refuse. So, I quit my job and never looked back, even if the traumas I suffered there still haunts me to this day.

Sadly, even after switching jobs, now getting a safe job with sane leaders… I started to relax, and that's when all my past trauma came washing over me. And one day, on while driving to work, I had my first serious panic attack. It started as this feeling I used to have at the old company; getting sick to my stomach and having the sense of someone being out to get me… then it developed to breathing problems… and I had to pull the car over. I broke into tears, struggling to breathe, stumbling out of the car to read the logo on its side just to reassure my body and brain that I worked for a different company now and there was no reason for panic. I called my boss and let him know, because he also was a "refugee" from that other company, so he knew what me and several others had gone through. He managed to talk me down enough for me to come to the office to talk to him. That helped.

I got back into therapy. A better therapist this time. But sadly, it got apparent that I could no longer work as an electrician as there was too many triggers. I was diagnosed with PTSD, severe depression, and social anxiety. I'm still working on these and get better slowly.

I have been in therapy for a long time now, and it was my therapist that suggested I wrote fics to cope and "write it out". I tried to make up my own characters for this, but never felt any connection. I was by this time in the TTTE fandom and had met people with similar trauma and pasts like myself, and I started roleplaying with some of them. Me and a girl from UK then agreed to try to rp/co-write a fic to cope with our trauma. We both found it easier to write about pre-established characters we had a connection to, even if it was an au that made it barely recognizable from the original source material. Only the names and some minor things were similar.

That fic was Stepney's Virginity Gets Lost.

Do we regret writing it? No. It helped us write out our traumas and helped us overcome some mental obstacles in out therapy process. Our therapists cheering us on, because we finally managed to break through the hard shell surrounding us. We both cried for the first time in years while writing it, some of it through roleplay, because some parts were extremely graphic and brutal and very mentally exhausting. We had to take long breaks between each writing session, so the fic wasn't written in just a weekend. But we got a lot of darkness out of our minds by writing all this. And we were definitely NOT aroused by it, like this pervert here claims.

It's when you dare to touch and feel the difficult and dark emotions, you can finally move along in the grieving process.

Should it have been posted online?

In retrospect, no. But at the time, we thought it might help other trauma victims, as we also found reading about other people's experiences and fictions touching painful subjects helpful to ourselves. So, we posted it, never expecting it to cause such a controversy 3 years later. In fact, we had more or less forgotten about it until it came back to bit us in the ass. Or rather, bite ME in the ass, as I am getting the full blame alone.

Also, despite what people claim, it was not posted openly for children to read. It was tagged properly and hidden behind mature content walls. If a minor chooses to break that wall, that's not the author's fault. It's the same as watching a movie with an age restriction way above your age, not the filmmaker's fault.

I think MerciResolution puts it nicely here:

"If your problem lies with you KNOWINGLY entering adult spaces when you’re a minor, ignoring all mature warnings that are literally SCREAMING at you “hey, this is what you’re getting into. Are you sure you want to proceed?”

That’s ENTIRELY on you. YOU are the fucking problem.

We’re marking mature things as best as we properly can. If you decide to ignore them, that’s your own damn fault. We’re not your fucking babysitters."

Also, I never posted the story on Wattpad, so if anyone has done that, it's not me. I posted the story on Fanfiction.net, DeviantArt and AO3, that's all. If it's posted anywhere else, it's not done by me.

I had honestly moved on from it when people pulled me back into it.

Other people who have done questionable shit in that fandom are easily forgiven because "they have moved on" or "changed". Yet, nobody believes I can move on or change…?

I had moved on; my interests had changed. But people won't let me, so here I am… Having to defend some crap I did years ago. A fic I no longer have any interest in.

I'm not even interested in TTTE anymore. I have moved on with my own book project now and I would like to focus on that.

So, deleting my TTTE content, whether it was the SFW or NSFW stuff, didn't cost me a penny. It actually felt like a relief. The only downside with it is that people now can't read it and make up their own opinion about it, but will solely believe in what others say, and those things are often seriously bent out of shape and blown out of proportions to such an extent it's barely recognizable.

If people claim that Arry and Bert rape Stepney in the fic, they have never seen it or read it. That's not what happens. That's just an assumption made by looking at the title and knowing there is a rape/torture scene in it. But I'm not gonna tell who the victim is or who performed it, because this is the only way I am able to tell who has actually read the fic or not, who is just trying to spread bullshit and who is actually telling the truth. The person in that screenshot, has no idea what he's talking about.

Does SVGL romanticize rape and abuse?

No, not in the least. It's described as the horrible, heinous acts it is and is in no way meant to be cute or romantic and definitely NOT something anyone should get off to. If anyone finds it sexy, that's their problem, not the authors'. If anything, SVGL might romanticize suicide, because one of the characters isn't able to cope with his trauma and chooses to end their life. Which is something I considered doing myself when I was in the darkest pit of depression. So, I apologize for maybe romanticizing suicide. The following chapters describe how friends and family handle the loss and grief.

It also describes a toxic relationship, where one of the parts struggles to get out of it. They eventually manage to break free, but it is not easy. This can easily be translated to my previously mentioned relationship, as it was my way of writing out my experience about how hard it is to break out of a relation when your partner has broken you down to the point where you no longer believe in yourself and your self-worth.

The last chapters start to gradually become brighter, as both our lives started getting better too. But we never really wrote the end because we both lost interest in writing TTTE content by that time and just left it hanging.

I'm not the only one who has written NSFW TTTE fanfics out there. But it seems like violence and murder is more acceptable than sexual things? I do wonder how brutally mutilating children's show characters are more tolerable than sexually abusing them. Neither should be okay.

Some content creators hide behind "it was a joke". I have been told that such topics that SVGL touches upon shouldn't be joked about… so I didn't do that, and yet it was wrong? So how should such topics be treated? Be hidden like it's a shame, like in the old days when rape victims were told to suck things up and keep it to themselves? When those subject to abuse didn't dare to speak up because people would judge them?

I think it is important to talk about these subjects and why they are so problematic. Victims shouldn't have to hide their trauma; they should be allowed to talk openly about it without fearing judgement.

Some of you claim that writing isn't a good way to cope… You're trying to dictate how trauma victims deal with their trauma, and that's a dangerous path to walk down. Nobody handles trauma the same way. You might have your thoughts on how you would react, but you'll never know until trauma hits you… and you might not react the way you had expected or planned. Trauma messes with your head and you won't be able to think clearly. It makes you do thinks you normally wouldn't have done and can make you act out of character. So, do not judge people without having been in the same situation yourself. Ever.

Someone wrote that I have "more problems that just a rape".

Read that again.

Just a rape.

This person does not know how damaging a rape can be. And if you made it this far in this post, you know I didn't only go through one, but several. Not just by my ex, but also being ambushed while I was walking home from a party, and later; a co-worker forcing himself onto me at a building site. I can't go into depth about them all, I just can't.

Just a rape…

"Just" the feeling of not being in control of your own body and your own decisions. "Just" being robbed off your dignity and self-worth. "Just" having someone intrude into your private zone, tear your clothes off and claim your body against your will. "Just" feeling how your life force leave you as you realize that fighting against it won't help you, and you silently give up and just lay down waiting for it all to be over. "Just" spending hours in the shower, scrubbing your skin until you bleed because you can't wash the filth away and you keep feeling dirty no matter how much you clean yourself. "Just" waking up at night, after having relived the scene again in a nightmare. "Just" looking over your shoulder wherever you walk because you heard something or thought you saw something or simply because someone is walking behind you. "Just" the fact that you'll never feel comfortable walking alone at night again or have someone walk behind you. "Just" never being able to relax because your body constantly think you're in grave danger. "Just" a rape…

That's such a neck-beard thing to say. Someone who clearly think of other people's bodies as property or things. Not taking into consideration that we are living, breathing individuals with feelings. And that having another person violate us isn't something we like or that we'll easily get over. We want to choose who we give ourselves to, nobody should be forced. We didn't ask to be raped. We didn't want it. We didn't like it.

Rape is trauma.

Yes, we should have chosen other characters for the story, but we did what we did, and it cannot be undone now. So, if the only thing I will be remembered for in the fandom is that ONE fic, instead of all my other content, that's what it will be. That's what people chose to. I'm moving on.

10. Being a nazi for being interested in WW2 history and for being Norwegian and having so-called nazi-letters in my last name (actual letters of the Norwegian alphabet).

*sigh*

This is something that could only happen in America, isn't it?

Some people don't bother educating themselves. The "nazi-letters" you guys are talking about is actually part of the Norwegian alphabet and has nothing to do with Nazism or white-supremacy to do at all. The Norwegian alphabet has 29 letters, the three extra is æ,ø,å or in capital letters: Æ,Ø,Å.

We can't help it if some morons over in the US abuse these letters as symbol of their twisted mindset.

Yes, my name contains one of those letters. It is my name… and I didn't choose it. It is a common Norwegian name.

As for me being a Nazi?

Those who knows me knows that I am as far from a Nazi as one can get. I despise Nazism with all my heart.

But the reason some people choose to believe so… was that some guy who has no hobbies or life went through every single fave I've made on DeviantArt since I joined the site in 2006, which is well over 20000 faves. And he found a few Nazi-characters from a web series I was following about ten years ago. I am very interested in history and especially WW2-history, so I found that particular web-series interesting and faved some artwork related to it. What this guy failed to notice is that I also faved the Allied characters… That's ALL there is to that story.

I has also faved a pic someone made of Joseph Goebbels (I think it was?) as a Pixar Car. That's not because I have any nazi-sympathies, but I simply found the concept of turning historical persons, both good and bad, into Cars as an interesting project. I would have faved any other historical Carsified person as well.

As for me being a Norwegian and have a natural pale complexion, that's not something I can help. That's nothing I choose. And it doesn't make me racist or Nazi. Period.

11. Putting a white-supremacist flag (the actual flag of Norway) on my porch on family birthdays and our national day.

Again. Get educated.

This flag… is the actual flag of my country. The Kingdom of Norway.

There is nothing Nazi about it. It is not a symbol of white-supremacy. IT IS THE FLAG OF NORWAY.

During WW2 it was even illegal, so people would paint it everywhere in a protest against the Nazi-occpation and the SS. We even decorated our Christmas trees with it, and that is a tradition that has followed us into the modern day.

Again, if some idiots in the US choose to use it as a symbol for their disgusting logic, it is not Norway or the Norwegians' fault.

12. Being a danger to my daughter.

I need people to elaborate here.

What exactly do you think I do to my daughter? What is the cause of your concern here?

The fact that I have made NSFW content? How is that harmful to her as long as I keep it away from her? You DO realize that even authors, pornstars and moviemakers have children and that they can be good parents, right?

Do you think I read pornographic content for her as bedtime stories? Or show her porn instead of kids TV? How sick are you guys, really…?

Some people even wanted CPS to take my child away from me… Have a look at these screenshots…

You want a happy, healthy, innocent child to be taken away from a stable, safe home with loving parents just because you don't like the content the mother made? You want her to be placed in foster care, where there is no guarantee that she will have a happy upbringing rather than have her stay with her parents who love her and care for her, for reasons she'll never understand and wasn't even aware of?

"Think of the children!" a lot of you say when it comes to my content. May I ask why this doesn't apply to my daughter?

Why do some of you go as far as to wishing her dead or wanting her to be removed from the home she feels safe and loved in? How is that thinking of the children?

As for the douchebag in that screenshot. You claim that if your mother did something like that you would want nothing to do with her… I have a question: Do you know EVERYTHING your mother do? Does she include you in each aspect of her life? Even her sexual life? No?

How do you know she doesn't do thing you don't approve of when you're not around? She could be a rabid pornmag reader for all you know. But stuff like that is something adults hide from their kids. So, you wouldn't know, unless you go snooping around in her business.

Everyone is entitled to privacy. What I and my husband do when our kid is not around is our business, not hers, and certainly not yours.

Porn and parenting are to be kept separate from each other. Period.

And we do.

There is absolutely no reason to be worried about my daughter. She is a happy, healthy child in a safe, stable home with family that loves her and cares for her. Not just me and my husband, but also grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins.

If you want to remove her from that over a stupid fanfic behind a mature content wall, you're the deranged person, not me.

 This is all I have to say about all this and my time in the TTTE fandom. I have left by my own, free will. Yes, I am aware that many people don't want me there. That's fine. I don't want to be there.

I am a bit disappointed in those people who just blindly unfollowed me and unfriended me without any questions asked, just followed the leader. Big users tend to dictate who and what is worth following in that fandom. They will even protect real predators, but I'm not going to open that can of worms now. I'm done with the fandom.

Some of those people, I have been talking to regularly, even supported when they faced hardships in the fandom themselves. But when I got in trouble, they ditched me without a word…

If anything, this whole ordeal showed me who to trust and not, and who were true to their word when it came to how deep our friendship was. True friends at least give you the chance to explain before they drop you. I hold no ill feelings to those who did, at least they asked me before judging.

And those who still stayed with me, are the ones who truly know me and who I really am.

Some of the worst libels posted about me might be reported to the police, but I haven't made up my mind yet. I am not mentally strong at the moment, so I don't know if I have the strength to legally follow it all up. I will ask the cops at work for advice on the matter.

All I ask for now is some peace.

You don't have to like me. You don't have to follow me. You don't have to like my content. Feel free to invalidate me, I know a lot of you will.

But please, stop bullying me and my family.

Please stop sending me horrid messages and death threats.

Please stop doxxing me and calling me.

Please leave my family alone. If you don't care about me, at least care about them.

Please just ignore me. I have already left the fandom, there is no reason to keep hunting me.

I just want to move on and go on with my life and the content I am currently working on. After years in therapy, my life has gotten better, and I want to move on.

Please let me.

[yelenasdog]

unknown desires (spencer reid x russell holmes) (i’m so sorry BFRHEKRB)

really all i have to say about this is what the fuck and why the fuck. I DESERVE NO RIGHTS. enjoy i guess??? if u found this while searching for some reid x reader there’s plenty of that on my account!! 

i’m deleting this bye ok-

btw it’s set at the end of s9 ep18 and then ends probably around s13?? idk. also listen to billie eilish’s “i love you” to be extra sad bc this is lowkey kinda angsty and lowkey a mess but im throwing it at u ok bye!

🂦∙🂦∙🂦

“Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary”- Edgar Allan Poe’s The Raven

Spencer shouldn't have been so drawn the first time he saw Russell in person. He shouldn't have been drawn at all.

He was a victim, someone who the young doctor had stared at a photo of for days while planning his rescue.

Although he didn't feel the initial electricity, he was far too buried in the case to think about Russell's kind puppy dog eyes or plump, rosy lips. Yes, far too busy to even fathom thinking of the way his raven locks that Edgar Allan Poe himself would be jealous of complimented his ivory skin, even for an inkling of a moment. He couldn’t bear to do such a thing.

But then, there was after the case, that day at the hospital. There was loss, it was hard to see. But yet again, he saw it every day.

His brain was fuzzy, and he seemed to be more heavily affected by this case than any previous endeavors. He wasn’t sure as to why.

It had him lost in his own thoughts, swimming in a pool of unknown desires.

So lost in fact, so drowned in his daydream, that he was barely aware of the person that had been wheeled over in his general vicinity.

It was him. His pink pout (that was more of a smile) was busted, no doubt, and his porcelain skin had cuts littered among it, but god, it was him.

He should have been disgusted, scared even. The man had rabies! And this was doctor Reid we’re talking about, the biggest possible germaphobe. But he couldn’t bring himself, he was too infatuated. Not that he would admit to it, though.

And he apparently had heard about Spence and his displeasure with even slightly unsanitary situations, as he chose to greet (and simultaneously say goodbye) to the doctor with a simple wave and bashful smile.

Spencer returned it in the same manner. The interaction was quick, too quick. It also warmed his heart to a full extent.

Russell was whisked away by a nurse, looking back reluctantly at the three agents that had saved his life, specifically a certain brown haired doctor, wanting to encapsulate his stunning image in his mind.

Spencer stuck to a cycle. Save, move on, repeat. It was easiest to do so rather than deal with any tag along, unwanted, painful emotions. 

Because that’s all love was. 

Crude and abrupt pain. But despite this, he found himself asking Garcia for Russell's current home address. His own actions confused him, but nonetheless, he held his head high as he exited the batcave towards the light, clutching a paper with the info in his hands. 

He knew he didn’t need it. But he refused to face the (impossible) possibility to forget this information, to forget Russell.

The paper was wrinkled and dampened from his gorilla grip by the time he had arrived. He flattened it out with shaky hands, grabbing a fresh piece of parchment.

“Hello, I'm Doctor Spencer Reid.”

No, no, too formal. He erased it.

“Greetings, I’m Spencer Reid.”

What was he, an alien? Even though many members of the team thought so, he decided against giving Russell Holmes that opportunity. And then it was gone in the wind with a few swipes from his pencil eraser.

“Hi! I’m Dr. Spencer Reid, I was one of the agents that assisted on your case. I hope this message finds you well. I’m just checking in to see how you’re healing.”

Spencer scoffed at himself out loud. “just checking in”, his ass. He continued writing and with very low expectations, he sent off the letter.

------

“I'll be just a minute, Mom!” Russell hollered through his home as he went to go check the mail. He walked down to the mailbox, limping ever so slightly, still in recovery. He flipped through the various envelopes, doing a double take when he saw a certain name.

Doctor Spencer Reid

Apartment 23A

Wilcox Road, Quantico, Virginia, 22134

He tore into the message immediately, a growing smile resting on his face as he read.

“Hi! I’m Doctor Spencer Reid, I was one of the agents who assisted on your case. I hope this message finds you well. I’m just checking in to see how you’re healing. How's your mother been since her surgery? I hope she is doing well, too. If you need anything don’t hesitate to write back or call the number at the bottom of the page. Yet again, I'm glad we could get you home, perhaps to your boyfriend/ girlfriend, or wife/husband.

Best regards, Spencer.”

He was off the walls with excitement. There was a newfound pep in his step as he made his way up the driveway, no doubt planning on writing back.

“Dr. Reid, I appreciate you checking in on me. I do not regret informing you that there is no boyfriend or girlfriend here, just my mother and I while we both recover...”

-----

Glee and bliss. Those were the two things that could no doubt be used to describe the relationship between Spencer Reid and Russell Holmes.

Although it was nothing too formal, exchanges of news about mothers or about how work was going was going on either side soon became much more deep, bringing the two closer than imaginable, even from 689 miles apart.

Never meeting again in person, the situation reminded him all too much of Maeve, but nonetheless, to him, Russell was worth it. So they talked, and talked, for years and years on end. 

They both felt a warm fuzzy feeling in their chest, quite able to place the cause on one another. 

Then one day, they stopped. 

Spencer had gotten home from a long case, and was very much so looking forward to an uplifting note from his distanced lover. But to his surprise, there was nothing. 

Although he found it odd, he blew it off, considering the possibility of getting lost in the post, running some stat to calm himself. Pulling out his cell, he dialed the number that he had saved of Russell's if for some reason the letters were to become inadequate. Voice mail. And voicemail again, and again, and again. Spencer tried for days and weeks, but to no avail, he was met with radio silence.

Until one day, if it was fateful or not is up to you.

 It was sunny in August, and Spencer Reid was not a fan. 

After sweating around all day (he wasn’t sure what it meant either), he made his way to his apartment. He stripped down to his slacks and undershirt, waltzing around his apartment with a water bottle in hand.

knock knock

He squinted his honey eyes, confusion flooding his body. He cautiously approached the door, keeping his revolver in his peripheral vision, compliments of his paranoia.

Another two knocks sounded, but before a third could ring out, he swung the door open.

He gasped, his jaw water bottle falling out of his hand and rolling into the hallway.

“Russ?”

“Hi, Spence.”

He wanted to hug him, he wanted to kiss him, God, he wanted to-

“I felt like I needed to tell you in person.”

His heart dropped to his feet as Russell's own shaky hand presented itself, in it, a white envelope, similar to the one that started their not-so extravagant rondevu.

“W-what is this, Russ?” he opened with nimble fingers, sliding it from its encasement.

Join soon to be Mr. and Mrs. Russell and Jane Holmes-

He didn’t read the rest, he didn’t need to, and couldn't. Tears made their way to both men’s eyes, threatening with such a fierce hostility to spill.

“I’m so sorry, Spence.”

This warranted no response from the doctor. He looked blankly behind Russ, his mind running a million miles a minute. With his head hung in a terrible shame, Russell turned to leave.

He was shocked when he was stopped by Spencer grabbing him by his blue and red plaid shirt, pulling him back.

“Wait.”

He turned, his hazel eyes just barely meeting Spencer's own of the same color.

“Do you love her?”

He pondered for a moment, before nodding slightly.

“Yes, I,” he paused. “Yes.”

Spencer bit his bottom lip briefly, before making a choice he knew he would regret.

He gripped him by the collar of his shirt, smashing their lips together for the first time and the last.

It should have been sweet, it should have been everything he hoped for and more. It should have been a reunion as glorious as they both could have imagined.

But instead, it was a mixture of salty tears, as their lips moulded together like they were made for each other. He pulled away, trying to maintain a strong facade.

“Good.”

And with that, he took one more look, before committing him to a memory, and nothing else.

He shut his door, sliding down against it and silently sobbing, pulling at his curls as tears racked his body. He heard smaller footsteps pad up the staircase, stopping next to where he left a dumbstruck and emotion ridden Russell.

“Hey, sweetheart, is your friend going to be able to make it?” She rubbed his shoulder lovingly, so incredibly oblivious and unaware of the previous happenings.

He put a remorseful hand on hers, watching how her engagement ring shimmered, even in the dim lighting.

He put on a false smile for his future wife he thinks he loves. “I think he’s a bit busy, he said he needs to review the date.” He spoke loudly, hoping Spencer could hear him through the thick door.

She frowned, nodding in what was her understanding of it all.

“Well, I hope he can make it, he must be important if you came all the way here to deliver this for him!”

He smiled genuinely, thinking of all the letters sent and hours spent.  

“Yeah, more than he knows.”

It wasn't until after he heard their steps retrieve, and their car start up and go, that he picked up the card to finish reading it.

He ran his finger over the gold raised trim, the feeling giving him goosebumps. He read the front and flipped it over, seeing an all too familiar hand writing underneath the date that the supposed union was to be held.

I'm sorry, I love you.

🂦∙🂦∙🂦

literally what the fuck was that ffwbfbfbkfw what do i even tag this?? im so sorry. also this is my first character x character be nice

[unrestedjade]

fic writing meme: 1, 12, 17, 18, 21

Oh dang, that’s a lot! Think I’ll put this behind a cut to spare everyone’s dash.

1. The first fandom I wrote and posted for was Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time. But! Somewhere in a landfill is a notebook with a very overwrought Animorphs fic about Ax falling in love with my very cool, original-character-donut-steel alien bat-centaur who can tell the future. Every day I thank the universe for not letting my family have internet access until I was 14. Actually, maybe the universe should have held out longer, but you can peep the cringe for yourself over here: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/173909/Fortuna

Yes, that is my old ff.net profile. My only regret is that I didn’t get a chance to back up my ask fics before the site suddenly decided to make a rule banning them and deleted them all. (Me, still salty over that 15 years later? Why, yes actually.)

12. A trope I haven’t tried yet but really want to? It’s hard to narrow it down; there’s a lot of “cliche” fanfic tropes I never let myself write that I want to indulge in this year. I’m thinking about finding one of those bingo cards to use or something. But since I grew up sneaking my mom’s romance novels, I think an arranged marriage would be fun to try if I have to pick just one.

17. The fic I’m most proud of should come as no surprise, lol. I still can’t believe I finished something as long and plotty as finaglc. Would love to manage it again someday. :’)

18. Line/scene dvd commentary: okay okay okay! So there’s this more-or-less abandoned DaphGan Legend of Zelda fic I was writing back in the day, that was just a loose serious of vignettes in chronological order. I had ideas for like 20 chapters and fizzled out because it turns out only about three people on the whole earth give a shit about DaphGan and I can’t write in a complete void of feedback. Anyway, I researched medieval boar hunting techniques because I desperately wanted an action scene culminating in a ~bad omen~ and here it is, so scroll by if you just want to see the last question in the batch:

Within minutes, they were deep enough that the forest canopy closed above them, far above Ganondorf’s head.  In the cool and the dim, and with the rustling of leaves in the breeze overhead sounding almost like waves, Ganondorf felt as though he were at the bottom of a great, ancient lake.  Mist lay in a thick blanket on the ground as high as the smaller horses’ barrels, and a carpet of dead leaves and needles deadened the sounds of their movement.  The hunters had fallen silent.   About that, he had no complaints.

(I recall being inordinately fond of the underwater imagery, because I’d been struggling for how to conceptualize a thick forest for a person who’s spent most of his life in the open desert.)

Save for ferns and scattered herbs, there was little in the way of troublesome plants or low branches beyond the border of the forest, and Ganondorf realized that King Daphnes’ suggestion the day before had, in truth, been polite censure of his clothing rather than any practical concern.  He frowned, and put the thought aside.  It did not matter.

(I was not at all subtle about the Hylians picking at the Gerudo envoy’s appearances, which I think I could handle a little better now, but alas...)

He thought instead on the many sounds surrounding them, his ears straining to hear every one.   There was birdsong, in patterns and notes he had never heard.  Small creatures rustled in the trees.  Water gurgled somewhere out of view.   The woods were full of life in every direction, and Ganondorf quietly marvelled at its richness.

All of this, for the sport of one family?

(This piece of writing is old enough that I was still using the now-defunct “two spaces after a period” rule, wow. Also, hello there, years-old misspelling. :/)

They kept to a walking pace for an hour or two, hushed but alert.  The dogs picked up a scent, the party wheeling around to follow after them.   Ganondorf rode alongside King Daphnes.  The man’s eyes were alight as he looked down the deer trail ahead of the dogs; a small smile of anticipation grew on his face.  "They have something, eh?” he said, in a whisper.  “What did I tell you!”

The lead dog threw its head back, baying.  It launched itself forward and the rest of the pack followed suit, tails held high like flags.

An enormous boar, all sinewy muscle and bristled hide, burst from a nearby thicket and was driven ahead of them.

“Aha!" The king spurred his horse to a gallop, the rest of the party just behind.  Ganondorf quickly found himself bringing up the rear.

The stallion seemed to find this as unacceptable as he did, for without his urging it picked up speed, long strides eating up the ground until the pair were level with the king once more.

(This bit started with the rest of the hunting party giving G-dawg mad shit for insisting on riding his stallion instead of a more appropriate horse, so I had to vindicate him, of course.)

Ganondorf’s eyes were now fixed on the boar.  He crouched low over the stallion’s neck, free hand fisted in the tangles of its mane.  They pulled ahead to run with the dogs, until even the dogs were falling behind them.

"Stay with it!"  The king’s bellow carried over the thunder of the stallion’s hooves.  "Keep running it!”

They ran.  The boar was fast and nimble, leading a chase through dense copses and over fast-flowing streams.  The world fell away until all that remained was the path they weaved through the trees, the rolling strength of the horse beneath him, the forest rushing by in a blur of green and loamy brown, and the boar.

Ganondorf laughed like a child, his heart light for first time since he’d come to this impossibly green land.

The chase ended when the boar made to leap over a fallen log and could not clear it, tumbling end over end.  The beast scrambled to its hooves, brandishing its long tusks.  It had reached the point of exhaustion, steam rising from its hide, muscles quivering with exertion.  It could run no longer.

Ganondorf held it at bay, keeping the point of his spear trained on it.  He did not wish to incite it to charge and risk his horse.  He simply looked at it, watching the boar watch him with wide, red eyes.  Foam gathered at its mouth, and he wondered whether it would die where it stood, if its heart had burst in its chest.

The baying of the dogs was not far off.  The hunters were closing in.

(Still a little puffed up over the juxtaposition of hunting being legitimately thrilling but cruel. Catch my bro getting swept up in the excitement.)

“Excellent work!"  Daphnes was at the head of the party, as he had been to start.  "Oh, well done, man!”

As the dogs circled, barking and snapping, the boar stood its ground, head lowered.  It made a few feints at the dogs foolish enough to attack, but as the hunters closed in it had less and less room to manoeuvre.   Ganondorf could see it rallying for a final effort, weariness flowing into terror and rage.

It roared, lunging, scattering the dogs.   Blood streaked its tusks.  A horse reared when its leg was cut by sharp hooves.  For a moment, it looked to Ganondorf as though it might break away again and escape.

In one practiced motion, Daphnes leapt from his horse and sunk his spear deep into the boar’s side.

Ganondorf’s racing heart froze.  Pain keener than any he had ever felt lanced through him, choking him on a silent cry.  He clutched at his chest, groping for the spear-head that wasn’t there.  His own spear fell from numb fingers to the forest floor.  Terror and agony, all-encompassing, swept over him in a crushing wave.

None of the other hunters noticed his distress.  All eyes were locked on their king’s struggle with the beast.  The boar screamed, running against the spear as if it would happily run the length of it to reach Daphnes with its final breath.  The cross-tree of the spear and the strength of the man wielding it kept the boar’s tusks far from its target, however, and for every drop of blood that spilled from its side a portion of its strength bled away with it.

After what felt far too long, the boar collapsed.  It’s screams had faded to rattling breaths, and when Daphnes stepped forward, knife drawn, it did not resist.

It was on Ganondorf that its red eyes rested when its throat was cut, in some mute accusation or seeking solace, he could not say.  The pain in his chest receded when the final gout of blood ran out onto the dark earth.  By the time Daphnes stood from his task, wiping his hands and blade clean on a rag, Ganondorf might have believed that the pain had been a trick of his imagination.

(This thing with the dead boar was meant to keep coming up in small ways throughout the rest of the vignettes as a harbinger of G-dawg’s ultimate failure and doom along with being an illustration of how he twists and suppresses himself for the sake of pleasing Daphnes, but of course it’ll probably never happen now since I’m five years out. I really did like this idea, though, and this scene was super fun to write. Except for now I’ve noticed another old typo. T_T)

21. The fic that got away? Lots; I actually have a horrible track record for finishing long fics. The one I’m most bummed out by, that I still think of from time to time, was actually a fill for the old Transformers Anonymous Kink Meme on LJ. It was Animated-verse pre-war Ratchet/Ultra Magnus with a detour into Ratchet/Megatron. I was about two thirds of the way done when something happened in the community that I can’t recall anymore derailed me, and I never ended up finishing it. Sometimes I think about scraping it off the meme to at least archive what I had done on Ao3 or something, but I probably won’t lol. It would take forever to track it down since this was back in like, 2012.

[web-of-fics]

Blackmail

Requested by: anon (you catch him changing into Spider-Man so you try to blackmail him into tutoring you) 

Starring: Peter Parker x reader 

Fandom: MCU 

Warnings: none 

Summary: reader blackmails Peter into tutoring them 

Words: 1318

✎_____________________________________________________________________

“I know your secret,” you said teasingly after cornering Peter one day in the hallway. The final bell of the day sounded about twenty minutes ago, and most of the hall lights were switched off by now. Faculty arguably loves Fridays more than their students do. 

Peter jumped and turned to face you. “What are you talking about?” he said in the same high-pitched voice used by every liar you’ve ever met.

You glanced around the deserted hall once more. If anyone overheard your conversation, blackmail wouldn’t be any use anymore would it?

“I know you’re Spider-Man,” you said in a low voice. 

His face was pale before, but what little color remaining in his cheeks at the beginning of this conversation now drained completely.

“Wh-what? That’s crazy,” he laughed nervously. 

You simply raised your eyebrows and held up your phone screen.

“You stow your backpack in the parking alley outside my bedroom window,” you swiped through a series of photographs. “I have pictures of you before and after changing too,” you locked your phone and held it casually by your side. His eyes trailed it.

“That’s not me,” he said.

“I’m not going to tell anybody,” you said. “I’m just here to get an A in AP Physics.” 

You AirDropped your contact information to his phone. “I barely have a B+ in this class, but the final can bump me to an A if I get 100% on it.” 

You gazed at him significantly. “You’re the only person I know who even gets A-pluses on exams in that class.”

You began to walk away. Peter didn’t follow. 

“Thanks so much for offering to help me study, Peter! It means a lot. You’re like the smartest kid I know,” you called over your shoulder. 

Peter looked at his phone, briefly debated changing schools or cities or countries to protect his identity, sighed, and added your number and address to his phone. At the same moment, you texted him tomorrow’s date and a time.

- - - - - - - - -

At the one-sidedly agreed-upon date and time, Peter appeared on your doorstep. Five minutes beforehand, he was standing in the alleyway staring up at the windows, debating which one belonged to you.

You opened the door with a smile, still enjoying the effects of your movie-inspired and GPA-motivated power trip, hoping the guilt of blackmailing him wouldn’t creep up on you before the exam. He didn’t know it, but you truly felt like you could relate to him as a certifiable “nerd” in school. Valuing grades above participating in social events was probably the most alienating thing you could’ve done in high school, but you had been at it for too long to let your grades slip now. Plus, it’s not like people would suddenly start inviting you to their parties. You sensed Peter was in a similar position, although blackmailing him wasn’t exactly the best way of letting him know you were in the same boat. 

You figured this disconnect would help motivate your tutor for the time being. You really were just anxious about your GPA straying from its summa cum laude status and not out to make Peter totally miserable. Whenever the guilt creeped up, you reminded yourself that you already deleted the evidence from you phone as you walked away from him last night, paranoid it would accidentally leak somehow and you really would be the asshole who revealed Spider-Man’s identity to all of New York. You much preferred the personal satisfaction of knowing his secret over the intense but short-lived attention you’d get from sharing it with the world.

“Come in!” you chirped. 

Peter followed you to the kitchen.

“I forgot to ask if you have any allergies,” you said as you both regarded the plates of pancakes and bowls of various toppings: blueberries, bananas, chocolate chips, nuts, butter, syrup, and whipped cream. A fresh pot of coffee sat next to the sink alongside a rack of colorful mugs. 

“My dad made these before leaving for work this morning after my own attempts failed,” you said when Peter noticed the plate of burnt pancakes residing in the sink as he poured himself some coffee in a green mug. 

“Thanks!” he said earnestly. He sipped his drink as you poured one for yourself and plated your breakfast. You were relieved to see his grin gradually replace the look of sheer horror you’d instigated from the afternoon before.

“Sorry I was really intense yesterday,” you finally said after you both seated yourselves and laid out your notes. “I’m just terrified this class will lower my GPA.” 

Your gaze remained fixed on your food as you began eating. 

“I’m the same way!” He said. 

You laughed, relieved to hear it. 

“Yeah, but you also have nothing to worry about,” you shook your head at your notes. “As soon as the math is involved I have no idea what’s going on with this.”

Peter nodded seriously and took a bite of his food. “Okay, where do you wanna start?”

- - - - - - - - -

On Monday, you approached Peter immediately after Physics.

“How do you think you did?” you asked.

“I got two different answers at first for number three but when I went through the math again they matched. How about you?” he said enthusiastically. 

You grinned for the first time in your life after walking out of a physics class. “I knew what I was doing the whole time! You totally saved me. If for some reason i don’t get 100 on it I won’t even be mad,” you said.

“Really?” he said.

“No,” you laughed. “I’d be salty about it up until graduation.” 

You looked at him. “But I’m really glad you helped me study. It was really nice of you. I know we don’t always get along in the classroom, and it sort of sucks that I made that worse because I actually like you a lot.”

He half-grinned as his brow furrowed. “You blackmailed me into it, remember?” 

You’d forgotten about that detail.

“That sounds perfectly crappy of me to do,” you replied. “I guess I forgot to mention it but you have nothing to worry about. I deleted everything right after I showed it to you. Sorry.”

“You... what?”

You shrugged. “I felt really bad.”

“You felt bad. Well I’m glad you felt bad. Never mind that I haven’t slept right all weekend, thinking I was about to lose everything,” he said, exasperated. 

You noticed dark circles under his eyes for the first time then. 

“This whole hero game really means a lot to you,” you realized.

“It’s not a game,” Peter said. “I save people. Real people from all kinds of danger that they don’t even know about half the time.”

You regarded him for a moment. Then you nodded.

“I knew you were smart, but you're even smarter than you let on in class. It’s kind of lucky for me that I bullied my way into getting to know this side of you,” you said.

He blushed. “Anytime.”

You considered this.

“How about we do this again on Friday? We can get to know each other, no incriminating photos involved.”

He laughed. “I think you just described a date in the nerdiest possible way.”

You shrugged. “I’m okay with that if you are. I don’t want to make things weird either though,” you added quickly.

“You made things weird the second you took pictures of me from your bedroom when I was changing!” he scoffed.

“You made things weird when you changed into a bodysuit in an alley outside my bedroom,” you shot back. 

You walked away and called over your shoulder: “I’m looking forward to our date this weekend Peter Parker!” causing several students within earshot to turn and whisper to their friends, and giant smile to cross Peter Parker’s blushing face.

_______________________________________________________________________

Just one more before bed? Click here for a masterlist of my fics!

[nudenewton]

Little Marvel Rant

What’s poppin my dudes? So a small little thing was brought to my attention after I watched a deleted scene from The Avengers. I think you know the one. If not then I posted it down below.

So I watched this video and some stuff caught my attention. I spoke to my friends about this and they agreed with me. It was a long rant that left me mad salty. 

This will be continued while I look for the rant. 

So I found everything and oof. Just reading it makes me salty. I know there’ll be people out there that don’y agree with me, but I don’t really care. I wanted to post this here and show you guys my opinion on this whole thing.

Also sorry but this whole thought process is out of order.

This is basically the gist of it.

So the video is one thing, it’s small but vv important.

I feel so bad for Steve. Cause one second he’s ya know sacrificing himself for the greater good, then next thing he knows it’s the 21 century. Like its a shame that they cut this scene out cause it’s important to Steve as a person. As a character. We never saw how he was doing. How he was coping.

This man experienced a cultural shock of unimaginable proportions.

And like I get it. I get why they cut this scene.

Because it’s not important to the storyline. But since A1 (The Avengers) came out, Marvel made no moves to show how Steve was coping. Not in Cap 2 or Cap 3. If they weren’t gonna include it anywhere they should’ve at least put it at the end of Cap 1. Like the last 5 mins of the movie. Or maybe as a credit scene, ya know?

It might not be important to the storyline. But it’s important to Steve as a person, as a character.

Like look at Tony!

His character went through so many arcs and still is

But Steve? No. He went through a handful and that’s it. Americas Poster Boy>Wanted Criminal. And then what? What was his arc in A3? He didn’t really have one.

He shows up for not a whole 10 mins, saves Wanda and that’s mostly it.

Like Tony went through so many. Playboy>POW Survivor>Iron Man>Iron Man Without The Suit>Mentor>Father Figure>World’s Mightiest Defender.

Like I understand that RDJ’s Tony Stark started the whole MCU in 2008 with IM1.

But Steve is also valid.

Steve Rogers started the whole thought process on the Avengers Initiative

Marvel is overlooking my boy. They have so much potential with Steve. But they decided to stick with Tony. and don;t get me wrong. I love Tony Stark. I do. But give his character a break and focus on improving someone else. Maybe focus on the character who started it all. Captain Fucking America.

If not Cap then maybe Wanda or Clint.

Like let’s start with Wanda. They make her so dependent on the men in her life. They make her seem weak. Which is messed up because she’s so fucking powerful! We saw her potential in A3

Then there’s Clint. They did Hawkeye so dirty. He was in three movies then vanished. Like lets be real if he was in A3 they would’ve beaten that purple grape. And I’m not just saying that because apparently in each movie that Hawkeye was in they won, and every movie he wasn’t in they lost. I’m saying that because Hawkeye literally beats that purple jellybean in the comics.

They did so many characters dirty.

AND ANOTHER THING WITH STEVE. The fact that Steve had no one there to help him cope with the cultural shock is so fucked up.

Also - Steve was in is 20s during the 1940s. Fucking WW2. Then he crashes his plane into the Arctic to hide the Tesseract (WHICH WAS STILL FUCKING USED USED A WEAPON IN AVENGERS 1). Then when he woke up it was the 2010s. BUT HOW CAN HE KNOW THAT? FOR STEVE IT WENT FROM THE 40s TO THE 10s IN THE BLINK OF AN EYE. HE WAS IN ICE FOR 70 YEARS AND HE HAD NO IDEA. THE WORLD CONTINUED WITHOUT HIM. SO HE WAKES UP AND THIS WHOLE NEW WORLD JUST SMACKS HIM IN THE FACE.

And like Marvel is usually so keen to details

Like can you imagine how that messed with Steve’s mental stability? Everyone focuses on Tony and his PTSD. But what Steve? He was the subject of an experimental drug/procedure that could’ve potentially killed him. But he did it anyway because he wanted to fight for America and everything it stands for. He was literally in the war. Then in the blink of an eye it’s the 21 century and there’s all these new sounds, smells, lights, gadgets, cars and all that crap. Blacks are friends with whites. Lesbians. Gays. Trans people. All this crap could’ve gotten someone killed in the 40s or arrested. And here he is seeing it for himself with his own eyes. Can you imagine how much these small things broke his mind?

Like Marvel needs to give Tony a break. AND TONY AND STEVE ARE POTENTIALLY DYING IN A4 ANYWAY! THEY MISSED THEIR PRIME OPPORTUNITIES

Thank you that’s all. Thanks for coming to my TED talk

[breedloveyoga]

Relax,

Just do it,

You’re going to get through it!

Doesn’t matter what the change is, starting to change your life isn’t going to be easy. There are going to be hurdles that you are going to want to run away from and hide under the comfy covers. However, if you can push through and make the leap it will get easier. So breath, see the light at the end. See the body and spirit you want to be.

The hardest part of starting a healthier life is getting up and getting going. I love fitness and working out but I still struggle between going to class/gym and the beckoning of the cozy couch. I will come up with every excuse in the book to not go: “I’m tired, I’m sore, I have a lot to do today, “I worked out super hard yesterday”, “Tomorrow will be a better day for it”. Resist the urge, stick to the plan! What always helps me is to think about how I will feel after I exercise, the accomplishment, the energy, the endorphins.

Maybe the challenge is a change in diet. I am not going to lie, it is hard kicking that sugary, fatty, greasy food habit or minimizing the amount of food you put in your mouth each day. We all love the naughty stuff and having it as a treat every now and then is great, and definitely encouraged by me. Once you cut out the naughty you don’t crave it as much or even at all. Once you reduce your portion size you reduce the chances of that taunting feeling of never being full.

Here are some tips and tricks for how I’ve shaped my body and life.

Get up, don’t hit snooze

“Just five more minutes” who hasn't been saying that since elementary school? It is time to stop. Believe me I am guilty of it too, but every time you hit that snooze button and just lay there in bed thinking --- because let's be honest who actually fall back asleep for those five more minutes --- you lessen your chances for high productivity. Your likeliness to to get things done, to feel positive, and simply feel refreshed and awake. Your morning will start out rushed, full of anxiety instead of calm, relaxed, and prepared to take on the day.

Workout while you’re already out

Pack a bag for the day, every day. Plan to do some kind of activity before or after work. I personally prefer to exercise in the morning. That way I get up, I get it done, and it's over allowing me to relax at the end of the day. If getting up a little earlier for you is just not in the cards pick a workout easily accessible from work. Beeline it to the gym as soon as you clock out. If you stop by home in between there is almost a 100% chance you will not want to leave the house because that couch is going to be calling your name.

Keep it short

You can do an hour. Think about it, one hour a day out of 8,760 hours in a year. That is only 24 hours a year total. That is it, just an hour can change your life. Go outside instead of binge watching one more episode of Game of Thrones (though it does suck you in like there is no tomorrow). However, when the episode is done it’s gone, it won’t leave you feeling invigorated, alive, and the perfect amount of positive exhaustion like a TRX class will.

Go back to back

One thing I love to do is back to back classes. Find a gym that offers a variety of different classes, maybe there will be two one after the other that you’ll enjoy. If you have the time, you are already there might as well stay for one hour more. Maybe you don’t quite have enough time for two classes, but maybe you are able to walk, bike, or jog to your class. Twice a week I love to ride my bike to my morning yoga class. It might be two miles there and back and take about 30 minutes but it is worth it.

Have fun with it & find a friend

Find something you like to do and someone that likes to do it with you. That could be going to the gym, but it could also be riding your bike, hiking, dancing, rock climbing, yoga, boxing, surfing, or walking. The length of the activity won’t matter if you enjoy doing it.

Now being an instructor myself I am not a huge fan of ClassPass, but I absolutely recommend it to everyone trying to figure out their niche workout. Register for ClassPass for one month, go to as many different classes as you can, try everything, find what works for you. Once the month is up delete your account and sign up for classes at the gym that resonated with you the most.

Then bring a friend! When you workout with someone it gives you an anchor. Someone you rely on and who relies on you. You can help each other and, the best part, entertain each other.

Don’t buy junk

The best way to stay healthy is to buy healthy. If it isn’t in your fridge you can’t eat it. Who else is guilty of eating when they are board? I am definitely raising my hand.  Eating when I’m bored has been one of the hardest habits to kick. What has helped me has been not buying those naughty snack foods. We all want to reach for the salty or the sweet, but when those options are out all you have left is carrots and hummus then your choice is easy.

Keep one treat in the house

I know, that is contradicting my last bullet point, but I am also a strong believer that food is supposed to be enjoyed. What is your favorite treat salty, sweet, greasy? Pick one and keep that treat in the house. When you do something positive --- wake up early for a class, hit the gym after work, walked around the block, or eat a chicken salad for dinner--- treat yourself!

Portion size, portion size, portion size

It is what I live by. The position sizes in America is astronomical and then people try to eat everything on their plate in one sitting. Why? Save half for lunch the next day. Now I know that a lot of you are thinking, “But if I cut my portion size in half I’m still going to be hungry and want to snack.” I know what you mean, so eat multiple smaller meals instead of three very large meals. Eventually your stomach will get used to the smaller portions and not crave as much.

Love the greens

Green, greens, and more greens. They make a huge impact on your health. I make sure I have some kind of greens every day. Whatever green vegetables you like raw, cooked, or in juice form. If you do go with juice try your best to avoid any fruit especially apple, instead add lemon or lime to help with the flavor. I have found a few scrumptious recipes with hidden greens you can’t even detect when you bite down (and will be sharing them in upcoming articles).

Keep it simple

Forget the sauces, drizzles, and reductions. You will be amazed how delicious food is with just its natural flavors. You don't need to drench your food in extra seasoning to make it taste good. All you need is a dash of pepper, pinch of salt, maybe a bit of herbs or splash of wine, and whala tasty.

***check out more articles on my website breedlove-yoga.com***