#I’ve self projected so much it feels like a part of me is dying with them

[vonnart]

XXXIV - Annual Birthday Self Portrait 🎂 Here is this year’s annual birthday self portrait and reflection piece! Below are the previous ones i've drawn throughout the years!

This drawing reflects the last year of my existence and on my previous birthday, I had both the best day of my life and the worst. I had an extremely traumatic psychedelic experience where i was convinced i had died for the first 2 and a half hours. It was intense and surreal, making connections to what the afterlife was and it was like none of the religions or theories had taught us. It was just returning to matter, still conscious but unable to grasp reality or have any say or control. An unnerving feeling of numbness and the inability to function. After collapsing multiple times from the rigor mortis i told myself I was experiencing, I was confused why i could still see and interpret anything. After some processing on the floor, I made a mental shift and thought: “Maybe the afterlife was like a turnable dial and because I was afraid, it unintentionally turned it a bad direction”. I was clearly in a negative plane of existence so I turned this mental dial in a more positive direction. “Maybe the afterlife is whatever you want it to be.” So I entered into what i thought was a projection of my own idea of what heaven was.

Almost instantly, I felt the sensation of unrivaled elation. I wasn’t at the pearly gates, an astral projection amongst the stars, or a foggy cloud representing a soul. I was still in my body and everything around me looked normal, which oddly seemed strange. “But why would i be in my house?" Maybe my mind is still processing being dead so instead it’s projecting what is familiar and comfortable OR OH maybe because heaven is wherever you would want to be the most! And this house is literally my favorite place on earth. And then I saw my bf Josh and wondered “Why would Josh be here when i could make any celebrity or crush I've had in my life to be the projection of a guide in this afterlife?" OH okay, because there truly isn't anyone I would want to help me through the early stages of accepting what’s after death!

This pattern of thoughts and answering them in my strange sense of being keep on a loop for about 5 hours and letting go of each physical attachment to the world was euphoric. No more fear of having to make money, keep up with work, pain or stress, worries about war or the state of the world, and most importantly, never having to fear dying again. I had never felt this light before. I let go of all of it completely and somehow, at the same time, felt incredibly connected to everything in a way that I can’t quite put into words. And the best part is that I kept reminding myself that I get to feel this feeling forever!!

Later that night I wanted to see if you could nap in the afterlife, and when I opened my eyes, I no longer was in that dream state. I was horribly confused and conflicted. I was actually disappointed I was still alive as that projected afterlife was the most beautiful sensation I may ever experience. The weeks that followed became a constant fear of questioning reality and developing pretty bad insomnia. I was afraid of learning that I still might be dead but I couldn’t have any way to prove it. It ended up being rather painful for about 4 months. My friends, family, and parents really helped ground me back to earth and I am so thankful for them. I’ve been reading a lot of books that explore consciousness and it’s been helping immensely.

So now, I feel like I’m seeing the world again for the first time through fresh lens of perspective. Being alive is the greatest sensation that I was taking for granted. I did develop my first actual fear in life, and like many, it’s the fear of dying. And that feeling is so strong because I enjoy being alive SO much, I really, really love it! The ups and downs, the connections and lessons. Everything is so delicate and precious and I’m making sure to handle it better these days. Here’s to 34 and it’s pretty safe to say I’m looking to make it a more calm and peaceful one!

[foursaints]

taking notes, nodding thoughtfully while reading your lily thoughts and I realized I struggle to understand her as a character because everything she is in canon is so muddied by who she is in relation to everyone else. I want her to have a hermit era where she locks herself in her apartment every night learning some new little craft just for the satisfaction of mastering it and I want her to have a going out era where she’s at the bars every weekend and everyone’s watching her but she only dances with her friends and always goes home alone. Like I need to her to live her best life outside of who she is to other people, and see how that’s realized for her. What crafts would she learn behind closed doors, what’s her getting ready routine?

I’ve had friends who feel very much defined by who they are to other people and the expectations surrounding them and it’s interesting to question their conception of themselves - a lot of times, I’ve found they don’t have the words to describe themselves without invoking other people’s opinions of them, even if it’s just an attempt to diminish the reality of those opinions (ex. “I’m not *that* good at piano” etc etc). I want to know how Lily would describe herself and what she sees when she looks back on her accomplishments.

anyways. thank you always for your thoughts 💕

this is such a beautiful message, it’s so thoughtful and well-put. i agree that i find her challenging to pin down because she only (canonically) exists in relation to others but that struggle is what always brings me back to her…

i tend to see lily as profoundly lonely but in a secret way that only makes her more Singular. i think her private life (her getting ready routine!! her daily rituals!!) is extremely well-cultivated because she is used to being misunderstood/projected on but it’s the fact that she appears so self-sustaining that gives her that special halo she has. lily always has little private things it seems she’s doing just for herself (it’s to make the daily experience of Being Herself feel more bearable… she’s trying to assert borders on the nothingness by giving herself Things Lily Does) but it makes others want to watch her and guess at what she’s thinking.

the flipside of this question, to me, is also that it is addictive to be loved in the way that lily is. she doesn’t have a clear picture of who she is (profoundly lonely also means empty) and it can be freeing to have an outsider offer a flattering one for you: when she’s the object of love, she’s a beautiful intelligent witch and even apparent flaws like her temper become charming & palatable facets of this picture. it feels really good to be that girl.

i think it’s less a question of expectations and more one of definitions. her relationship with petunia interests me the most because her sister refuses to see her as Special, and if lily isn’t Special then she’s nothing at all. and that’s really horrifying but it’s also part of her reality.

to me, what happened to her (dying young and getting made into a saint, essentially) is the best thing that could have happened - because she in a sense escaped her own self and Became “that girl” permanently in collective memory. i think she’s pathologically committed to her own self-mythologizing and that’s an answer itself.

[bestworstcase]

I find it interesting how much the RK Jaune basically now occupies the same position as Ironwood and Ozma in a narrative sense, the two people he's always held a notable critical eye and distrust for ever since the fall of Beacon, at least when you consider his situation with Alyx and Lewis.

He basically tried to do what they did; railroad others into the story that he thought it should be, even if out of the best of intentions, and in doing so basically ensured that Alyx wouldn't trust him.

As Salem's heroic foil, I wonder if this'll play a part in any relevations he and the others might have about dealing with Salem herself.

Because I don't think it's a coincidence.

Also think it's interesting how he considers ascension "death"...but given that he's the type of person who literally clings to and wears his trauma on him, maybe in his mind he views the "death" of his memories, the potential loss of his own past mistakes as being just as bad as dying.

OH. ohhh you know what this is, i bet?

“she cursed the world; she cursed the gods. she cursed everything—everything but herself.”

i’ve never believed the insinuation here that salem is incapable of self-reflection—salem herself is far too flexible and far too comfortable reversing course when something isn’t working for me to believe that she’s too arrogant to consider the possibility that she’s done wrong, and the reason she cursed the gods and not herself is that she genuinely did nothing wrong—BUT, that insinuation sure is an apt description of jaune’s reaction to the ever after, isn’t it? oh, he’s marinating in compulsive guilt and when he gets caught up in recounting the past he wonders aloud if it was his fault for not being able to make the story happen the right way, but those feelings are just that—compulsive, arising more from his festering guilt about penny than any actual sense of personal responsibility. something bad happened, and jaune blames the tree—or the cat—or the herbalist—or alyx herself, because she was selfish and cruel and must have sacrificed her brother to escape and then written him out of the story. it doesn’t matter what any of the afterans say, ascension is death and the cat is evil and the world is rotten and he knows the truth, he doesn’t need a guide, he’s got all the right answers and he’s sick and tired of the ever after’s bullshit.

meanwhile anyone with half a brain is now like, unreliable narrator much?

and like becoming jaded, making assumptions and accusations instead of asking questions… he’s salem’s heroic foil after the extinction, and he does what jinn (speaking from ozpin’s perspective!) accuses salem of having done—blaming everyone except himself, refusing to look inwards and question his own choices—and doing that transforms him into ozpin! we’re seeing the other side of the mirror now, demonstrating that the assessment of salem’s flaws provided in the lost fable was just ozpin projecting all along. which lol We Knew, but now it’s being overtly pointed out to us.

(isn’t it funny how ozma devoted lifetimes to destroying history and keeping secrets and lying to people for the sake of controlling the narrative, and now jaune’s old and jaded and flinging accusations around and refusing to listen to the answers he’s given, and curiosity has slunk away in despair? i think that’s funny. the sledgehammer of subtlety was not enough they needed a jackhammer)

the thing about ascension of course is that it is death—it’s reincarnation. the denizens don’t call it death because to them, “death” means specifically the ending of the reincarnation cycle, but for all intents and purposes ascension is just death and spiritual rebirth. what jaune’s not seeing is that this process is a natural and celebrated part of life in the ever after—it’s not something bad. what is bad is the spiritual death that occurs when a denizen is eaten by the jabberwalker and thus cut off from connection to the tree. jaune is taking his own feelings about how death works in his world and applying it incorrectly to a culture and a belief system that doesn’t work that way, and deciding that the whole belief system is evil on that basis. which is both understandable given what he’s been through and an attitude that makes any and all information he provides about the ever after functionally worthless, because he’s not able to see any of it clearly. he’s too deep in his own head, his own preconceived notions—again rather like another paranoid old man we know.

(i’m also finding it really interesting that jaune gives crescent rose back to ruby, in this context—he’s symbolically standing in ozpin’s shoes here as he hands her weapon back as a burden. i’m curious to see how this plays out in conjunction with 1. the cat having left them, and 2. That One Shot from the trailer, and 3. the blacksmith’s second scene.)

at this point and with only four episodes left i’m kinda… like before they get home, they need to 1. find out what really happened to lewis, and 2. either learn ✨something✨ about salem to take with them back to remnant or make the choice to commit to a new course of action (<- leaning toward the former still, because at this point i don’t think there’s ANY way these kids land on “we should try to reason with her” without something knocking them in that direction first, and because i still think “salem wrote it” is the explanation that makes the most sense as far as what the ever after…is.) and those to things are probably connected in some way? i would imagine? but jaune needs to lose his cynicism and the only way to do that is to find out the truth, i think.

i also have some latent thoughts about jaune seeing his younger self in the crossroad mirrors like—hm. hmm hm. jaune was the hatter and now he’s hatta and the rusted knight is also jaune’s reflection—there are some layers to this that i need to Ponder but in the spirit of deranged crwby-watched-my-favorite-musical?! posting i’d say jaune is overdue for a more literal meeting with his younger self in the indeterminate future and also i’ve changed my mind on they’re not gonna de-age him and i am now like. 50/50 jaune gets wound back but keeps his memories (<- that’s how the watch gets used to save the day in post-2011 iterations of musical) and 50/50 ruby uses the watch to give herself a second chance to solve a riddle (<- pre-2011 style). or maybe both i have no idea what is happening anymore i’m just experiencing some emotions for sure

[psychewritesbs]

Chapter 219: Bath, part 4—Inner evil

Cursed JJK Sunday. There’s only two types of JJK Sundays--cursed or happy. Today is a cursed JJK Sunday and this has been the week from hell.

Let’s taco about it under the cut.

Anyways. Here comes a tangent!

Megumi this chapter.

Man, I was wondering how Gege was going to move the plot along back into tragedy and deep angst territory, and there you have it. I have to admit that, while some in fandom haven’t liked how he’s been manipulating the mood, I’ve quite enjoyed it. 

It’s just that, in retrospect, what’s happened and the absurdly comical way it’s been executed so that it culminated with one of JJKs Top Depresing AF Moments, is something that I vibed with a lot.

The journey of utter ridiculousness, as per usual, served a purpose for my brain. After all, what’s more depressing than unnecessary tragedy?

So it hit really hard to see Megumi in a state of shock and in the fetal position. I literally shed tears when I saw the panels.

I may be totally projecting here but ever since chapter 216, Megumi has been shown as increasingly infantile. Almost as if his ego is regressing to early stages of emotional development or as though certain emotions experienced in his early life have been triggered.

So when I see Megumi curled up in a fetal position, I can’t help but think of Megumi metaphorically going into a womb-like space, the mother in all of her unconscious glory.

Learned helplessness

And this is such a relevant pose for a character like Megumi who already had to overcome his own limiting idea of himself.

I don’t know how to put it into words without turning this into a conversation about how emotional trauma gets stored in the body (the unconscious) and how it severely limits our sense of self without our conscious knowledge of the fact.

But anyways, watch me overpsychologize the whole thing by saying that learned helplessness is an insidious emotion that directs our thinking and behavior in the form of self-fulfilling prophecy.

So, again, to see Megumi like this, it almost feels like he’s being held back by his own sense of self and that he’s given up on himself.

In other words, he’s not even trying to win by dying, but rather gave up fighting by metaphorically dying.

What’s interesting is the idea that “after taking his sister Tsumiki’s life, Fushiguro’s soul sinks into the abyss”. Perhaps it really just comes back to seeing his body act without his conscious will in ways that are harming others, more specifically the one person he wanted to protect most.

But I much prefer the idea that Megumi can’t tell the difference between Sukuna as evil, and the evil within--Megumi as evil. Whatever that looks like and however Gege executes, if he indeed executes like this.

Anyways, Spooky wrote about it and I wanted to add some thoughts to their post because there’s so much symbolism and Jungian shadow metaphors at play with Megumi right now... Spooks, I promise I am on it.

But all of this brings me full circle to...

The Gospel of Sukuna

Sukuna continues to appall me with his inhumanity and his cruelty. 

And this is so weird to say as the weirdo who infamously published an ode to Sukunaism and the gospel of Sukuna, and then went ahead and hailed it as the way of the highway.

It’s just that, from my perspective, this whole battle sequence against Yorozu has been nothing but an attempt at traumatizing Megumi. Like, yes, it’s obvious because he said he was after Tsumiki’s life in order to sink Megumi. 

What I mean more specifically is that the latest chapters showed us the lengths Sukuna will go to in order to achieve his goal and I wonder whether Sukuna could have killed Yorozu from the start but instead delayed doing so because he knows Megumi is watching. So he toyed with Yorozu to hurt Megumi and like... I love Sukuna but he’s such a selfish and cruel bastard.

And this is the thing... I want to reject Sukuna’s evil so bad ever since he took  Megumi and left Yuji behind in shambles. 

I hate it. 

He’s just an awful, inconsiderate and right out evil being. That’s the whole point of Sukuna, right?

So I want to denounce his selfishness and say “no, fuck him, I’m leaving the church of Sukuna, he can find another social media manager! I will not stand by his cruelty”

But I can’t because to denounce Sukuna is to denounce a part of me. There is, after all, a little bit of Sukuna in everyone. Every single human being has a propensity for evil inside of them and I am, of course, not the exception.

Sukuna is the kind of mind free from reason to the point that it is divorced from personal responsibility to the collective. True evil. The completely pathological and utter lack of empathy for another living being and their suffering in favor of self-gratification.

Recently I watched a documentary about a girl who would have grown up to be a serial killer as a result of the abuse she experienced as a child. The abuse, the documentary argued, resulted in her inability to develop empathy for others, which in turn translated in anti-social behavior like hurting her brother and defenseless animals.

But I think it’s also easy to think of evil in grandiose terms such as something we encounter in extreme cases like the example I mention above, or even hell or something that other people do. Not us, never us. 

It is far easier to look at evil as some distant trait that is foreign to our sense of self than it is to accept that the many micro-aggressions we commit on an everyday basis can also be considered evil. Micro-aggressions that are pure instinct devoid from reason.

Like, for those of you who play around in twitter, how many hateful posts are you exposed to on a daily basis? Name calling, putting other people down, hating... how is that any different from Sukuna? 

Oh, of course, most people aren’t mass murderers.

To denounce Sukuna is to denounce the totality of your Self. It means to repress inner evil so deep into your shadow where all it can do is fester until it takes a mind of its own and seeks an outlet--like harassing others on twitter over a disagreement of opinion.

So anyways, Gege’s brand of hurt and self-hate is something else entirely.

He’s worse than those women from CLAMP if I’m honest.

For those who’ve read CLAMP, then you know their stories can be very depressing and that Okawa Nanase, the group’s writer, hurts her characters with calculated abandon.

It’s fascinating to say the least.

But not Gege. 

Gege is cruel and perhaps no one reflects that quite as well as Sukuna does.

Anyways...

To anyone who reads, thank you as always and looking forward to your thoughts and comments if you have any that you’d like to share. 

If you’ve sent me an ask I promise I am working on answering you and thank you as always for your patience.

[fizzyginfizz]

Hiii! How are you? So, the other day OUT OF THE BLUE I was i don´t know, having breakfast maybe? and i remebered this part of Quidditch is for Losers which, i know, it's about a child in hospital and it's a horrible situation, but i laughed soo loud:

Her Dad thought about it. “That incident when she was two?”

“With the wheelbarrow, the self-tuning accordion and the chicken?”

“Definitely her.”

“Could have been Percy.”

“Honestly Molly, the chicken was wearing her shoes. She hated those shoes. Dead giveaway.”

“But- “

Ginny had heard enough. “I’m not a squib! Of course I’ve done accidental magic!”

As if to agree, the clock in her Mum’s clutches started whirring. With a pling, plop and two cuckoos, Ginny’s hand spun around and around until it lurched to stop on a brand-new wedge labeled “Not A Squib.”

I love this. I LOOOOVE THIS. I believe that it requires a lot of talent to write funny stuff, and i noticed how you give us these funny moments, and then, when we have our defenses low you punch us with sadness and dispair, and i'm dead. I love it, i said it already i know.

Soooooo... is there anything you can tell us about the nex part? how is it going? How are you feeling about it? :D NO pressure and no obligation to respond, of course. I hope you have a great week!

(oh and i tried translating a part of that chapter to spanish so i could show it to my non-english speaking hp-fans friends and it's sooo hard, it's a good story still, i mean, but it's so much better in english, ugh 🥴🫠)

"Dying is easy - comedy is hard."

-attributed to Edmund Kean, maybe Edmund Gwenn, but probably uttered by the first caveman who bombed a joke.

I can't express just how tickled I am to hear you're still laughing about this stuff over breakfast. Thank you so much! Nothing is ever funny to me the fourth time I read it, so by the time I publish these chapters I have no idea whether the humor works or not. The best comments in the world start with "I laughed at the part…."

I feel like I owe followers of Quidditch is for Losers a big apology because I'm taking so long to update. I don't want to start posting again until I've finished writing the next full arc which takes us to the end of the PoA timeline - about 10-12 chapters. I can tell you Ginny's brothers are still driving her nuts, Harry still triggers a (WTF) blushing response and when Professor McGonagall said Ginny's teachers failed her, she meant it. They will not make that mistake twice. And that's just what's happening on the outside. Ginny is navigating all this with leftover social-emotional-psychological baggage and she can't process her emotions the way she would in canon because she still can't get on a broom without losing her lunch.

I can't promise when I'll get posting, but I do know what it's like to wait for updates and I can promise I'm working on it. I haven't lost passion for this project and I'm excited to share what I have planned (even though I'm looking at it for the 37th time and wondering 'hmmm, funny?'). I'm working through how Ginny's highs and lows weave together - I'm writing and rewriting (and re-rewriting), tossing stuff out, putting stuff back in, worrying about the depressing-uplifting balance. But it's coming along. Soon. Soon-ish. Soon adjacent?

In case you missed it, I did write a young Bill & Charlie piece for Weasleyfest that is a pre-QifL dive into their early brother-ing: Best Brother

And again, thank you, absolutely truly. Your note brightened my day - it means so much to me to know you've enjoyed QifL so far and are waiting for more. I'll try to write faster.

[talkingwithghosts555]

A Conversation with James Dean

K: Oh man, this is a trip.

J: (grins) Why?

K: Because, I haven’t talked to someone new in a very long time and you finally come through all the way. I always wondered why you hovered around in the background for so long and today it’s like…suddenly. I have to say, sort of crappy timing on your part.

J: (continues to grin) First…(raises a finger) it wasn’t the time for introductions but my curiosity about you was always very strong. Second…(raises finger) sometimes it’s better for people to channel when they’re sick because their defences are very low.

K: I don’t think I have defences when I channel.

J: Everybody has defences when they channel. More about is this right or is this wrong…is it true. When someone’s sick, all of that goes away because the person’s energy is concentrating on fighting a virus and isn’t concerned about fighting what’s uncomfortable.

K: Oooo. That’s a good way to put it. To be honest, I’ve always sort of felt like we’ve known each other even though we’ve never met and I’m wondering, without giving too much away…

J: (nods while sipping on a mug of something…I assume it’s coffee) Very wise.

K: If you are an aspect of someone I already know in spirit.

J: Like…did I come back as their face, because I just couldn’t stay away, and we did somewhat the same things?

K: Kinda like that, yes.

J: (nods while lighting a cigarette, inhales, and exhales) Something like that.

K: Still smoke?

J: At least here, it’s doesn’t cause any real damage. I need to stay busy with my hands.

K: Got it. Then, reincarnation…

J: (gives me a confused look) I don’t much care for the term.

K: What would you call it?

J: Huh. (thinks) Another chance. When people die, they go back and they look at what they’ve done and if they feel it was a finished project or not. I didn’t feel like my project was finished. I wanted to get back as soon as I could but the circumstances had to be right, so I had to wait a few years to do that and I wanted it as close as possible to what I had already done and that happened. That was created for me and I was lucky it was.

K: Then not everyone gets that chance?

J: I was pretty adamant about it. (inhales the cigarette)

K: Can you be? If a person dies and doesn’t feel they finished something, can they just demand to come back.

J: I’ve known people that dive back in within…a day of dying.

K: You’re joking????

J: No. I’m not. Earth is a…for a rebel…(winks) it’s just as adrenaline filled as any stunt would be. The difficult part of that is…nobody really understands that until they die. No one really understands the beauty of it until they die and when that epiphany comes…for those that love the rush, they come back.

K: When I hear about NDEs (near death experiences) most people say they don’t want to come back.

J: A lot don’t.

K: You’ve been channeled before, right?

J: Lots of times. (sips coffee)

K: Why do you want to do that again with me?

J: The connection is different. The relationship is different.

K: Okay.

J: It’s nice for us…(pats his chest) to connect with someone on a different sort of level. You’ve heard that before.

K: I have.

J: There are so many great connectors out there. That’s what I call mediums. I call them connectors. And once in a while, you’ll find one that you can just step into and hold hands with without it being awkward. The others, you keep at a distance and just talk about the easy stuff. Like shootin’ the breeze with an acquaintance.

K: Did you have a lot of those, sort of lighter conversations, with people when living?

J: I wanted to connect. I really did. I think from the experiences I had when I was growing up, I sort of protected myself from sharing too much. I found protection in the acting. I found that I didn’t have to show who I really was because I could act it and be believed.

K: Did you ever show your true self to anyone?

J: Only a select few. I had a few rocky relationships…on and off again relationships because they could see that I was faking it…acting even if I wasn’t on a job and that created friction. I guess you could say, I didn’t give into trust very easily.

K: Interesting. I have that same issue. I don’t trust very easily.

J: (inhales and exhales) No one blames you for it.

K: I didn’t think anyone did.

J: (grins) It only takes one, right.

K: For sure.

J: (shakes his head slightly and smiles) I guess the circumstances of one’s youth really does create impressions…keeps people wanting to hang tight to things real close and the only way to do that is to pretend you’re someone entirely different.

K: What happened to you? In your youth that kept you so hidden?

J: Abuse. Abuse from someone I was supposed to trust…that everyone else trusted and because everyone else trusted him, I was meant to as well.

K: I’m sorry about that.

J: After my mother died, I was desperate for that sort of care. That sort of…comfort that only a mom could give a son at a very young age but that also made me a little bit…vulnerable because when I needed that, that sort of care came in the guise of sex and when you’re young, you start to believe that’s what love or comfort was.

K: Did you feel comforted when you were abused?

J: Something in me told me this wasn’t what I was looking for. It was shame for me because I felt ashamed that I actually thought it was the same thing…comfort and abuse. So, I never shared that part of my life with very many people.

K: What happened when you did?

J: Depends on the person. For some, it excused my behavior. I wasn’t always a nice guy. I would act out, lash out, sometimes resort to violence in my adult temper tantrums especially when I was alone. And those that excused me for it used the abuse as a reason to. (drops the cigarette and steps on it) Some gave me the sympathy which I hated. I hated every bit of sympathy given to me. It made me feel like I was someone who showed weakness and I didn’t want to be seen as weak. I don’t know. (shrugs) Life’s moments, when you’re young, and all you’re ever meant to be is innocent…can really fuck a person up.

K: For sure. I hear that. Was acting an escape for you then?

J: Like a lot of people, it gave me the chance to explore different parts of myself. Different ways to love someone else. It allowed me to learn about human nature, what worked with others and what didn’t. I used to take what I acted out in movies…I used to take that into my daily life and act that role and noted how people responded to it.

K: Were you ever really James to anyone?

J: I didn’t really know who James was.

K: When I look at your picture. I don’t see a young man. I don’t see someone who died in their early twenties. You seem older somehow. Would you consider yourself to be an old soul?

J: Yeah. I would take that title. Old soul.

K: Do you find that the old souls…who come to earth all the time since the beginning…those are the ones that are chomping at the bit to come back as soon as possible?

J: Depends on the job. If an old soul has only ever known earth, they want to come back as soon as possible. If an old soul is part of a greater collective of energies, they have the tendency to want to go back to any one of those collectives and not return to earth for a long, long time. When was you last life on earth? (sips coffee)

K: 1921.

J: Then, you didn’t wait too long to come back either.

K: Much to the chagrin of celestials that shall not be named.

J: (shrugs and chuckles) Sometimes what’s in our spirit’s best interest doesn’t agree with others. It’s all personal.

K: Just like here.

J: Just like here which is so beautiful. Everything is just a fucked up beautiful disaster.

K: So, after coming back as our mutual acquaintance…do you feel like you accomplished what you wanted?

J: In a relatively short amount of time, it all clicked. Plus, I wanted to leave a legacy and I did that.

K: Why did you want to leave a legacy?

J: I think that legacies of doing good are important. Not just a legacy built on a face of someone but a legacy of what we leave behind…what good we did. As much good as I did as James, it wasn’t nearly what I accomplished in the life after that and that’s what I’m most proud of. It had to be on those timelines that happened. I guess you could say my life as James was a test run.

K: Being the face of James, have you connected with this other life? After they died?

J: Absolutely. It’s like…having a twin brother.

K: I haven’t been able to really wrap my head and heart around the higher self and the soul aspects of someone because one spirit will still come as different faces and it’s very hard to feel like those are all the same…person. I guess I need to use person because it’s what I see.

J: I get it. Absolutely. That’s the beautiful disaster and that’s the power of spirit. That not only can a person connect with one aspect but of all the aspect of the One. And it can send people, who aren’t ready for that, into a tailspin of sorts. But when a person is ready for that, it’s just a general acceptance of the whole thing and whoever you see in the moment, is who you see with that greater understanding that not only do you connect with one but with all. This is the lesson that humanity is learning, that by connecting with one, they actually connect with the All. People talk about oneness but oneness doesn’t mean not seeing everything that makes up the One. What’s the best part, is seeing the intricacies of the one…as all these different experiences that contribute to it. Intricacies never block. They are the cosmic DNA of the One and every bit of DNA contributes that that special part of someone that is just a contribution to the Whole.

K: Wow.

J: I got that when I came back. Because the spirit doesn’t understand what’s real and what’s not real. Everything is real and spirit will live all parts as a contribution to the whole thing. When I understood that, I didn’t have a reason to go back. Not right away. There are people that need to live their lives and come back to this side before we both decide we go back together to finish what we started in life. After that, the earth contains us and creates from that part and then we can start creating something new, somewhere different.

K: Wow. That’s amazing. Thank you for your honesty.

J: It’s pretty incredible how all of this is being supported now. Just in this sliver of time (pinches his fingers together) is that awareness supported, but even though it’s supported doesn’t mean that sliver of time will have many takers because it’s still pretty fucked up. It’s a pretty fucked up way to think or believe.

K: TELL ME ABOUT IT!! Thank you for that.

J: I needed a lot of validation in my life as James to make it worth it. It didn’t look like it to the outside world that looked in. But in those quiet moments, I would just beg for some validation about what I was going through. I guess that’s why I had the two sides to me. The rebel and the quiet introvert. Depending, mentally, where I was at, is what you got. If I didn’t receive the validation of a job well done, a person would see a rebel. If I felt confidence, you would see the quiet, contemplative James.

K: Who did you like better?

J: Each had their moments.

K: I’ve only ever seen Rebel without a Cause.

J: That was a long time ago.

K: I think I was…like twelve or something.

J: Why did you watch it?

K: Paula Abdul and Keanu Reeves, of course.

J: (laughing) I guess that…there’s so much foreshadowing in people’s lives.

K: I think that a person would only see the foreshadowing after they died. Like it’s some huge epiphany after the fact.

J: Hindsight is 20/20. Especially here.

K: What is one thing that you wished you did have when you lived as James.

J: (thinks) I guess what anyone would want. A great love story.

K: Is earth a romantic place?

J: It could be more romantic if people gave in to the vulnerability of romance. I couldn’t give over 100% to vulnerability. Even in the quiet moments, I still needed to pretend something because pretending was sometimes easier than the real. To have a great love story, it takes less pretending and more authenticity.

K: That’s beautifully said. Thank you.

J: Audrey says, hi. (he’s smirking, picturing her) Now she…understands what a real love story is.

K: I know she does. She’s amazing. She came in the other day. It was nice to see her.

J: And, you’ll be seeing more of me.

K: What about asking permission?

J: (he’s sort of slouching over the arm of the chair he’s sitting in) I was asking.

K: That was not asking.

J: Okay. May I please come and have more talks with you?

K: Why?

J: Because it’s meaningful to me. Sort of a way to be a part of a great love story.

Heart melts.

K: God! Men! Why is it always dashing men.

J: The ultimate attraction.

K: (laughing) Okay. Yeah, sure. You looking like that and me in a housecoat and sweats, snotting everywhere.

J: It’s the human experience, Kim. A beautiful disaster. Thanks for this.

K: Thanks, James. I’ll be seeing you…I guess.

J: Absolutely. (jumps to his feet and salutes) Until then.

K: See you.

J: Ciao, Bella.

[xwendigox]

For FFWF: How do you come up with your characters?

So sorry for not answering this sooner. It got lost in all my notifs. 😭

It’s kind of a mix of different things. There are some outside influences, like maybe I’m inspired by a character of another writer.

For my characters in my Dying To Live Ghost fanfic, all of my characters are based off of facets of me, honestly. One of the things I enjoy about writing is that I can write about anything and everything. I try to have my characters do thing or be things I couldn’t imagine for myself.

For example, Wendigo is probably closest to my main self. I’m rather serious, laid back etc. With the obvious trauma and the anxiety that is locked up inside and all. Sometimes finding myself trapped with the overwhelming sense of guilt of the events of the past, wondering if I had done something different, if it would have changed anything. Much like Wendigo.

Red is my personification of my anger. Nobody likes to admit it, but we all have some but of anger in us. Red is my embodiment of rage of things that were never brought to justice. She feels wronged, and she has been wronged, but she never gets the justice she craves and honestly deserves. Which leaves her restless and more bitter.

Yellowfang is the part of me that is old but gold. I am Wiccan, I won’t go into detail about it. You guys have google to look that shit up. Essentially, Yellowfang is the embodiment of all the lives I’ve lived. Resilient despite it all, and with the challenges came wisdom. She is calm, wise, motherly and respected.

Echo is the quiet. The part of me that was silenced because I wasn’t allowed to speak on the truth of things. That everything wasn’t as it all seemed.

Sunny is the inner child that was forced into the box in order to survive, and let Wendigo take her place. She is bright, gleeful and just a magnet for all things of positive nature. She is the representation of childhood innocence, and the death of it.

VANGUARD and the Titan Program kinda represent the first 18 years of my life lol 😂

Hope that helps. Lol that shit got dark real quick, but it’s the truth. A lot of my characters I project a part of me in them. It helps me to write them better. If I just create a character with no part of me involved, I feel like my character comes off flat and fake.

@flatlinedgamer

[bigcats-birds-and-books]

for the writer asks, 4, 11, 17?

Hi!! Thanks for the ask!! Love these things.

Referencing this post.

4. What’s a word that makes you go absolutely feral?

Full disclosure (again): I saw this question and promptly forgot every word I’ve ever known. When they started slithering back into my brainpan, the one I latched onto was “shambling,” because it makes me lose my mind and always gives me a very visceral reaction (in horror headspace, whomst?? Not me….*sweats in starting to think about Driscoll revisions*).

11. Do you believe in the old advice to “kill your darlings?” Are you a ruthless darling assassin? What happens to the darlings you murder? Do you have a darling graveyard? Do you grieve?

I’ve actually come full circle on the Darlings front: As a baby!Writer, it sounded like bullshit to me, and then I leveled up some and was like "Oh Absolutely I Can Do This, Look At Me Go As A Mature!Writer," and now I’m back to Consider Why It’s A Darling And Perhaps Reevaluate Your Revision Priorities (or, rephrased: If it’s a Darling, what is your story ACTUALLY about??). Darlings are, like, my Fundamental Writing Building Blocks—those are what I use to shape a story. If it doesn’t spark joy, it doesn’t get to stay, but what are Darlings if not Joy Sparks Incarnate?

I do, occasionally, have to transplant a Darling, because it doesn’t fit with the rest of the story after all (I frequently move around puns, or sometimes a character), but honestly not as much as the kill-your-darlings adage would have you believe? I think this is partly because of how I magpie all the pieces of a new project before I dive into writing it, and partially because I have, uh. So Many, Very Different WIPs—I’ve deffo got a Brand and Faves, but I like to play, too, and Darlings can always find a place to fit in.

tl;dr: Darlings are Good, actually, and it’s good when writing Sparks Joy, and it’s okay to build a project around things that Delight you without feeling obligated to ruthlessly murder them.

17. Talk to me about the minutiae of your current WIP. Tell me about the lore, the history, the detail, the things that won’t make it in the text.

Uh oh, nerfed myself by reblogging the original post while between projects XD I spose I shall answer one project Forward instead of Backward, because I have more lore stacked up about Driscoll than Rell. So, about my purple monster child living in an interstitial liminal space:

Turns out this kid is gonna be immortal (they absolutely do Not realize that, where we leave them at the end of book, although Astute Readers may suspect something along those lines, given the parallel Crimson situation). Fortunately: Tam-Tam can ALSO be immortal, as long as nothing eats her when she’s a tiny spiderling. (“Tiny spiderling” referencing how large she is in-book, which is the size of a four-slice toaster.) (Because she’s buddies with Driscoll, she will absolutely not get eaten.)

Both Tam-Tam and Driscoll, they longer they’re around, undergo Physical Changes. Turns out raknids (Tam-Tam’s spideresque monster variety) continue to molt and grow their entire lives, so eventually she’ll end up Shelob Size or Bigger, except more neon and friendly, which I love for her. Absolutely a rideable amount of monster. (Driscoll likes walking too much to ride her, but it remains an option.)

By the end of the book, Driscoll (spoilers) has already started to get cooler monstery parts, like vertical beaded purple eyes (Google gecko eyes, they’re so cool) and some sharper teeth to go with their once-dyed hair that’s grown purple since they got to In Between. When they’re much older, they are also gonna get some impressive antlers, and they stretch out even longer than their currently gangly teenage self is, and they turn purpley-silver with skin like lightning, and they blur into and out of the landscape, and their eyes fucken glow (because that’s also so cool). I wrote a whole two-page short story/descriptiony drabble thing about the gradual transformation, and I had a grand time doing it! (Said discriptiony drabble is also soaked in sadness, though, because Driscoll’s human second family is not, in fact, immortal. Losing people one by one sends Driscoll wandering for a while, and every time they come back a little stranger.)

When they’re that much older, they still do the Leading Misplaced Humans To Town thing, but they no longer need to be physically present to do so (honestly: For the best, because they hit a point where they no longer look passably human before the hit the “worth trusting anyway” point). Instead of walking people physically back to town, they can lead them there with strange purple wildflowers sprouting up in a trail from where the misplaced person is to where town is. The flowers get weirder, the longer Driscoll is In Between—like distorted memories of flowers instead of the real deal.

….turns out I have a lot more lore about my purple child than I thought I did, so I’m gonna stop here before this gets out of control. But thanks for asking!! Love talking about this kid!!

[armchairaleck]

Dark Magic Dreams

Okay, this will be part one of a series of things I would like to look at regarding the possible purpose of, and various meanings and imagery contained within the dark magic dreams we see in TDP.

Now a lot of what I am going to write about regarding these are ideas that I’ve either heard or read about in relation to Twin Peaks, a fandom I am deeply fascinated by, but honestly way too dumb to write about. As such you will have to accept that I am not an expert on any of the stuff I am going to cover, they are just things that intrigue me and so I will probably extrapolate completely wrongly, but you know, maybe there’s something of interest.

Also please feel free to correct any incorrect assumptions I make, I really don’t feel like I’m a great reader of this sort of stuff anyway, but… I’ll give it a go.

So first an overview of some of the knowns and unknowns (mostly unknowns) about dark magic dreams:

Claudia states to Terry that everyone has one dark magic dream on their path to becoming a mage. Just one, after the first use, and then pretty much you’re good to go. Now I’m going to presume that Viren is the first person who has gone to the somewhat extreme lengths of dying, being resurrected, and then doing dark magic AGAIN to get a second shot at that fever dream. I admire both his commitment to the cause and his err.. foolhardiness here, but that’s Viren I guess.

In the show we see two dark magic dreams. Callum’s first in s2 and Viren’s second in s5 (with a mirror image of his first also imbedded within it, for extra time/space/fate/freedom mind fuckery here I guess).

The dream of time and space... (yeah sorry I will be peppering these captions with lots of Twin Peaks quotes)

Both these dreams seem to contain similar themes –

There is an emphasis on echoes of the past and future - Callum sees a possible corrupted future self that he rejects before he sees a lot of wind/sky imagery that surely points to his unlocking of the sky arcanum (interestingly this segment is also set at sea, a possible foreshadowing of the ocean arcanum to come?)

Viren mostly sees the shadows of his past mistakes - training with Kpp’Ar, himself crowned as the king of Katolis, Harrow on the night of the assassination and healing young Soren, presumably the point where things started to go drastically wrong for him… and then he also sees the future echo of Claudia’s path following his own. Ouch.

The dream of suffering and pain…

There is the image of the double self, Callum sees himself corrupted, Viren sees his younger uncorrupted self in the mirror, while his younger uncorrupted self would have seen a vision of future Viren, looking mighty fine I must say.

Yes, look in the mirror. What do you see?

Is it a dream, or a nightmare?

Both Callum and Viren also meet the spirit/ghost or subconscious projection of people who have been important, influential or close to them. Callum gets Harrow and Sarai and erm... Villads, while Viren sees Kpp’Ar, Harrow, baby Soren and erm… Sir Sparklepuff and Opeli (okay still figuring those two out precisely, but Sir Sparks I guess holds a whole new bond for Viren now...)

It's like I'm having the most beautiful dream...

And the most terrible nightmare, all at once.

Finally there is a very strong emphasis on the path you follow - fate versus free choice, destiny being preordained or something you write yourself, which is muddied somewhat by the fact that we know both Callum and young Viren clearly rejected the path of dark magic in their dreams annnd then went on to do more dark magic. Now Callum we know has only taken a step so far on what we presume is a slippery slope, while Viren has leapt off the mountain so to speak.

So those are the similarities between the dreams. I’ve also been thinking about the possible reasons for the dark magic dream existing in the first place.

They could be simply a side effect, something baked into the creation of dark magic itself, if Aaravos created dark magic it is possible that his connection to the stars has simply left these echoes and visions of past and future in the dream somehow. This could be accidental, an unforeseen consequence, in which case it might play to the advantage of the dark mage, or it could be something placed there on purpose, to accentuate the power that dark magic holds over the wielder – this path is already written, you have no choice.

It could be a warning, the subconscious urging the mage to turn back - the path you are about to follow is filled with certain danger. It would be interesting to know how many, if any, dark mages do turn back at the dream stage.

Or it could be a physical side effect, the body having to sweat or dream out the corruption/toxins from their first use, in which case it is interesting that this particular side effect only ever happens the one time.

One other factor seems to be that dark magic can also help the caster unlock an Arcanum as well, we see Callum connect to sky after his first dream, filled with keys, so the dream space might also channel certain energies. This might have some interesting potential for Viren, providing he doesn’t expire on the cold, hard ground, but I’ll park that thought here for now.

I awoke from that dream realizing that I had subconsciously gained knowledge of a deductive magical technique.

Anyway to finish this first post, I was interested in a couple of images that occur within Viren’s dream.

The mirror of Aaravos

So when corrupted Viren looks at young Viren and young Viren looks at his future self, and the bounds of space and time do that little weird wobble thing that hurts my head, they are looking at each other through the mirror of Aaravos. Now this could imply several things, but it has to be a deliberate choice for that mirror to be the window between them.

Was Viren’s path always somewhat predestined? His younger self would have no knowledge of that mirror having not yet reached the point of finding it in the storm spire, that future is still years away, so it can't be imbedded in his memory, or can it?

Why does he already see his future self through that particular mirror? This element of the dream has been confirmed to be the same experience at two different points in time. Now of course young Viren always had the choice to step away from the path he was following at any point, but it interesting to me that the image of that mirror was already baked into his personal dream space as if the path is already written.

Or perhaps the mirror just has some symbolic reference to imprisonment… in which case?

The cursed coin

Next is the image on the back of the coin, this sorta weird symbol often with a central circle which we see several times:

These are the ones I could easily find, there could be others..

The pattern is not quite the same, but we've been informed it can be associated with a different sort of magic - old magic, deep magic. Due to the nature of the cursed coins I’m loosely wondering if this could be a type of magic that has something to do with the soul or spirit of a person. I don’t feel personally that this has to be incompatible with the ideas and theories of it also being blood magic, because ideas surrounding blood and the soul/life spark are often linked.

What seems possible in these cases is the mage is paying a soul cost that is greater than usual, whether this is symbolised through the spilling of blood, as in the two spells Aaravos proposes to Viren, or by doing something heinous to the detriment of your principles, such as trapping others in the cursed coins. This could also track with the two spells that Claudia does that change her hair colour.

It might be a stretch, but I don’t personally feel Lissa would have left Viren for casting a dark magic spell to save Soren. Now there might have had to be some sort of terrible sacrifice involved but we’ve seen a deer heal full body paralysis, so I’m not really convinced Viren had to slaughter a baby elf at the alter to save his son (not saying he didn’t either of course, but there’s the possibility that isn’t actually the cost). So there might have been something else that Lissa and possibly Kpp’Ar had a problem with. Well having seen Kpp’Ar in action I feel he’d be more adverse to potential outside control rather than delving into the depths of blood magic.. so not sure quite what went on there...

Honestly, mostly I just like the idea of selling your soul for something, and the consequences of that, and possibly it could link to Aaravos/Lucifer comparisons. Every time someone does dark magic they seem to be making an unknowing pact with him and perhaps it's possible deep magic err.. deepens it.

This could also track with the coin spell being "Your soul is my treasure", and Harrow’s dream use of the spell on Viren. Be interesting to know where Viren acquired those coins, because no shade on Viren, but I’m not sure he’s capable of making them… I guess maybe Kpp’Ar has a treasure hoard of illicit artefacts in his basement or something…

So in that case we would have dark magic as being the gateway to Aaravos and some sort of deep/blood/soul magic as being the next step along that path, but one that not many are willing to make.

This might explain why Aaravos has been hanging around in prison for 300 years, if a certain amount of influence was needed to steer someone towards his prison, perhaps Viren is the only person desperate enough to have gone this far down the path. I don’t know, very hard to tell with the paucity of dark mages on the show tbh.

So we look closely at the eyes to see the nature of the soul

In this case I think the dark magic dream could be seen as something of a spiritual journey, the dark night of the soul, and possibly a chance to integrate the light and the dark that coexists within us. It’s clear there is a path to choose, but it also seems that it might not be quite as simple as choosing the ‘good’ or the ‘bad’ but all of these choices carry within them moral dilemmas and complexities - what are the things we are willing to do and by extension possibly lose for love.

I feel that Callum and Viren mirror quite strongly in both the theme of sacrificing for love and the desire for power. Why else would you really become a mage primal or otherwise unless you are seeking power over things and mastery of them? Where does this leave Viren now (if he’s not exhaling his last breath on the beach, and I can’t make up my mind about that)? I will hopefully explore some of these possibilities in other posts and yes they will feature a lot of Twin Peaks ideas cos it’s practically the only other show I watch. As such I have not seen Mad Men, but Twin Peaks has very close links to the nature of the soul, the ability to navigate between the black and the white and to the catastrophic consequences for both yourself and others if you are not able to do this, and we've all seen some of those in TDP.

Through the darkness of future past, the magician longs to see..

Am I gonna read way too much into literally everything? You betcha…

Full disclaimer here, I am not really trying to read the show or work out what it's going to do with some of this stuff, I am just looking at ideas that interest me. What interests me certainly isn't looking at it through a straight up lens of morality, which is why a lot of my thoughts will doubtless be wrong.

[sprkljumpropequeen1]

Precious

I’ve always been under the impression that what you receive during your lifetime is always a result of what you give. Love has consumed me ever since I could remember. I wanted to distribute as much love into the world as a physical being could possibly handle. I’ve always had an extreme longing to receive love from others ever since I could remember. Although my heart was full and my ability to give was to its greatest extent, I've always struggled with finding the love that was for me to cherish.

Since I was never given love to the caliber I gave it, my body struggled with keeping the flame insideof me lit. By the time I became an age of scraping together my own worldly thoughts, I grew cold and harsh. Cold and harsh to myself only. I still loved to the fullest potential and cared for others till I withered. I drained my body of the light in order to give. When I thought someone would give me the smallest inkling of warmth, I was always disappointed. I was the one that had to suck the drops of fallen sparkle from the sidewalk in order to regain minimal strength to be there for myself. 

I was my protection. A child's protection is typically her guardians and the adults in their life. A child’s protection should be her guardians and the adults in her life. I never had that luxury. When I couldn't think anything other than thoughts of dying,  I was there to shove the happiest of thoughts into my ears and back into the crevices of my pink brain. I always was there to put the pieces of my precious self back together to seem my most presentable. Not for the likeness of myself however. Everything I did externally to hide my sorrow was rather for my family than for myself. I wished someone, at least one time, asked me what was wrong so I didn't have to bottle my truths any longer. Whenever I was under the impression I found love in someone else, I was always shown the true colors of the exchange. I searched and searched like an explorer to find these human beings. I craved the warm touch of skin and the color of the veins, vessels of the precious blood that peeks through the skin. I found something that gave me peace and happiness. I found love in a stationary object. Even if that love only lasts seconds and immediately turns into despair, it was the purest form of love I've ever felt in my life.

 The beautiful glimmer of the blade glistened in my filmed eyes. The best part was the pleasure it brought me when the red river flowed from my hashed skin. Instant euphoria and tranquility. I feel the love seeping in my skin and flushed the entirety of my body. I finally feel the warmth I've so badly wanted to experience. If I could create that feeling over and over again I would seize the first chance I got. In time there are always consequences. Almost immediately after my body is filled with warmth, it is stripped from me and the coldness of an ice storm infiltrates my body. I'm consumed by guilt and shame. I always curse myself for disfiguring my precious skin. I cover the site of my actions and hide any trace of the pain that I’m ridden with. I suffer my consequences that resulted from my actions. I tell myself it's the last time and I need to cherish the temple I was gifted, but I always turn back to my sinful ways. I find comfort in the pain I create for myself because it's the pain I am in control of. The pain I endure from everyone around me is so far from my grasp. I feel hopeless and weak that I can't be the protector. The blade allows me to be the villain and the hero. I'm able to destroy myself and also be the one to dress the wounds and care for my heart, an even medium. What you give in this lifetime is what you are bound to receive. Maybe that's why I am starved of love, I project self-hatred. I hate the individual that should be most important to me in this life, hate that is so deeply rooted it outweighs all the warmth I output into this world.

[bipolaretherealthoughts]

Onions

why am i so scared of vulnerability asked the last person who owned the expectations i broke? 

is it because he stuck fingers in all holes except to plug my ears from my muffled cries, or to gouge my eyes out, so i didn’t have to stare at this face 

or is it because you forgot to pull out because you were so wrapped in human desires that the fuel the same forces of your ejaculation equaling the hate you projected onto someone so small. yet i would have been valued much more to the law makers of Texas than you will ever, Paul. 

maybe it’s because i latch on to every unhealthy thing that i bring forth.

healthy things scare me shitless. 

my heart shatters for the part of me i’ve been laying to rest. 

the skeletons being reorganized in the things called a shipping container. 

i’m at the spot in my life where the old me is dying and the new me is forming, 

but when will i be a phoenix? 

yet i don’t know how to tell the people around me i’m grieving for the parents I wanted. is it because i have bpd?

the voice in the back of my head screams words in tones of self sabotage.

i. deserve. the. worst

i deserve to sit alone on a couch and write things like I don't like to trust others.

my emotions have no linguistic pattern because i’m scared 

not enough drugs or money could fill this void that’s slowly consumed me.

i fight to not wrap the rope you tied me up with because i said no. 

i wish it could stop. i wish i could stop the inevitable destruction.

yet it feels so good to watch the bridges burn to the island of my mind  so no one could ever find a way to get in to my psyche of beautiful chaos too good for this world 

god i wish i was an onion. i wish i had the effect on someone to cry cutting me apart just how i’ve cried when people are cutting me apart to my core. 

i wish you’d cry and feel what it is like because the scars on my legs weren’t enough 

i have layers to me that not many are strong enough to stay to peel back, yet i’m the only one to because i am enough

i am enough to hold my own face when i crave vulnerability and give myself the whole flower shop if i want it because i am worth it. 

i wish i was an onion. 

211800133

[jessicamdawn]

I posted 2,734 times in 2022

That's 2,601 more posts than 2021!

35 posts created (1%)

2,699 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@seekingidlewild

@itwasyummy

@kaylizle

@sherokutakari

@kashidoodles

I tagged 1,343 of my posts in 2022

#thai drama - 619 posts

#not me the series - 288 posts

#kinnporsche - 181 posts

#kdrama - 159 posts

#jdrama - 109 posts

#bad buddy - 73 posts

#extraordinary attorney woo - 72 posts

#not me white - 56 posts

#not me yok - 53 posts

#not me sean - 51 posts

Longest Tag: 91 characters

#the bravest thing in the world is being able to tell someone you’re sad or lonely or scared

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Just passed the 20k mark in this Clone!White Not Me AU fic

Feels like a milestone

Officially a Long Fic

6 notes - Posted April 21, 2022

#4

Wednesday, I had a slight sore throat that persisted throughout the day. Since I had other symptoms of dehydration, we figured it was that and I drank A LOT of water and by the time I went to sleep, it didn’t hurt.

Thursday, my throat hurts worse and only sucking on medicated cough drops helps (which also NUMBED MY TONGUE, I thought I’d lost my sense of taste, y’all. I freaked out.) I had a slight cough and slight headache.

Friday, my sore throat was gone, poof. But! lots of sinus drainage, leading to more coughing, And a slight headache that got worse over the day (ended up taking a migraine pill cause it got so bad. was probably a major tension headache from the stress of being ill in some way.)

Saturday, my throat feels fine until suddenly I HACK. It’s like when your body overreacts to an allergen, where even the smallest thing makes you sneezy or itchy or w/e. The smallest thing tickles my throat and I start coughing (that ‘smallest thing’ being so much nasal drainage, or, you know, bread.)

I was coughing so much I started timing it and realized that, if I’m distracted, I can go 5-6 minutes between coughs, but if there’s no distraction, I cough every 40-50 seconds. So some part of it is psychosomatic. The cough is also worse when lying down.

Now it’s 11 PM and I’m congested enough I need to stack pillows to sleep. While I don’t think it’s COVID (my mom was sick first and tested herself and it came back negative), I’ve still been wearing a mask around any other people and sequestering myself when possible.

Please send well wishes and good prayers my way.

7 notes - Posted July 16, 2022

#3

Chapters: 3/12 Fandom: เขา...ไม่ใช่ผม | Not Me (TV 2021) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Sean/White, Dan/Yok, Black/Gram, Eugene/Namo, Gram & Gumpa & Sean & White & Yok Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Clones, Clone!White, White is not Black's twin but his clone, becoming a person, Self-Reflection, Vigilantism, Illegal Activities, disability rights, Rule of Law, Mental Link, Physical Link, Falling In Love, SeanWhite's real ship name should be TrustFall Chapter Summary:

White takes part in his first acts of vigilantism with the gang, working for disability rights. In the aftermath, he experiences a violent episode that leaves him gasping and certain he has just drowned on dry land. Concerned, Gumpa insists White stay with him at the garage. Now roommates with Sean, White begins to see a new side of his hotheaded teammate.

11 notes - Posted May 13, 2022

#2

Things My Sister Said While I Showed Her “Not Me” Episodes 7-9:

- Todd is sus. Todd is sus when he breathes.

- Sus hair. Sus smile.

- All I hear is -flirt- Officer- we're so wrong for each other. but so right. -passion- flirt-

- I don’t know if I even know what happened in the scene. I think I was having a stroke. It was beautiful.

- Sean is like 'fuck. omg. breathe.’ touching. more touching. went from the knee to the arm. face. this is what friends do. ear. how is sean not freaking out?

- Hey, Google. Call Sus Todd

- Todd’s soy milk is sus

- stfu. I’m dying. I’m screaming. kiss him. fuck. KISS HIM. YES!

- I feel like one of those posts that's like "Yeah, sex is great, but have you ever seen two ex-enemies doing a trust fall and kissing on a rooftop before?"

- Todd is at fault until I say otherwise. Guilty until proven innocent.

- I'm expecting Black to come back and everyone is like "ew. Where's the other guy?"

- (Black slapped White) 😶 Kill him.

11 notes - Posted May 3, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Given that both White and Sean do a trust fall to prove their deep trust in the other, and that Sean uses a trust fall to prove that Black is not his Black, I suggest that their ship name is not “SeanWhite” or “WhiteSean,” but “TrustFall.”

15 notes - Posted April 7, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[carolineasweet-blog]

The Uninvited Guest

I have an uninvited guest - constantly - an uninvited, invisible guest. It pokes up, most violently, when I am trying to socialize. At a dinner party, a show, any social event these days, really. My invisible guest, my mind, which keeps talking to me and won’t shut up, goddamit. I want to name you. I strive, constantly, to give you a label. Anxiety? Depression? Narcissism? Perfectionism? None of them fit you perfectly. But I know one thing - I hate you. You are loud, you pull focus. You are judgemental and self involved. You are the worst of me. My ADHD? Nah, that’s not right either. At times, I can quiet you, and sometimes we coexist. 

It’s gotten worse since the pandemic, to be sure. I am at peace in my home, by myself - with no additional eyes to gaze upon me. If I’m being generous, you’re my Libran tendencies to put the shoe on the other foot. As I write that sentence, you sit next to me and ask, “Is this the time? Is this the time you feared when they all find out you can’t write anything good?” Man, you sure lack boundaries. Boundaryless, limitless - these things have positive connotations for me, but you’re an asshole. 

I often wonder when we get a break from the self work. Some people, it seems, are always on a break. (There you go again...) But most of us are working toward something, and when does it end? I know the answer is never, but why? Fuck that. I’d like to arrive. It’s like a city constantly under construction - when will we ever let well enough alone? When?? A city is not itself when marred in scaffolding and orange cones. And if it is, that’s not a city I’d like to visit. At some point, we gotta call it. 

I’m ready for my jaw to unclench. I’m ready to let go of this idea that there is a perfect version of myself. I’d like to remove the scaffolding and the signs around my potholes. But you, my guest, won’t let me. You, who were not invited to this dinner, have somehow dictated the entire thing. I served the appetizer, and you held court through the entirety of dinner. To say ‘I hate you’ would be to say ‘I hate myself,’ but that’s not true. I love myself. I love part of myself. I generally have a good personality. I’ve got a great ass, and a wonderful sense of style. No wonder you like to stick around. 

I’ve given up on the idea of happiness - that’s too much pressure, so they now say - and I’m focusing on contentedness. To be content. With you beside me, I suppose. So let’s work this out, shall we? You’re uninvited, but you’re here. So how can I love you too? Well, let’s see... you’re judgey, so I’m judgey. And while that’s not always great because it’s a projection of my own need for perfection, it does also make me the occasional good comedian. Everyone loves a well-timed criticism, yes? Let’s maybe just stick to common enemies. Ok, so you’re funny. I suppose you’re also health-oriented, though I could stand to take a break from the constant ‘Am I dying?’ narrative. I have seen doctors regularly and kept an eye on myself, potentially saving me from long term high blood pressure! What else are you good at? Well, you can always pick up on who is uncomfortable and shift the tone of a conversation. You’re constantly thinking about how others feel, and you do want what’s best for me. You really do, even if you have a funny way of showing it. You are the funny, dark, goth friend who sometimes concerns us, but really is an interesting trip. 

Ok friend, I take it back. You’re ok. You’re invited. Sit next to me, and saddle up. Just try to be a little quieter? And come back next time with wine. Or not. We have been trying to cut back - or at least you’ve been telling me to. Thanks for always looking out for me. 

[t3a-bag]

Not me on the verge of tears while writing the hypothetical deaths of my ocs

[d3nt4l-d4m4g3]

A few days ago, I emailed my former professor about a paper on women’s food practices in the middle ages. At least, that’s what I told him it was about, initially. 

But actually, I wanted to discuss heresy. This professor teaches a women’s rights course every year. Every year at the beginning of the class, he calls attention to why he, a man, is talking about women’s rights. He looks us in the eyes and says, no one else is doing it, and I’m sorry it’s me.

This man made us read the SCUM manifesto, Gerda Lerner, Maria Mies. He grazed the subject of the Lesbian Sex Wars, delicately, so gingerly, posing the question: “Can sex work ever be just work?”  And my  (all woman) classmates, generally mute—in a Women’s Rights class, they all seemed averse to saying the word “woman,” at all. Then one woman raised her hand. and she said, “Sex work is real work.”  A statement that, as I hope you know, is a deflection and a discussion killer.  

At the time I was non-binary. Hah. I submitted a comic at the end of the year of my final project. My thesis for that project was this: the very language female people have to use for themselves was constructed by the patriarchy. for example, the english word “vagina” comes from the latin word for “sheath”. so the vagina invokes the act of penetration upon its utterance. Whereas the word “penis” has no clear etymological root, implying that it is original while the vagina is constructed for him. Why should I carry the fact that I will always be a tool, the hole, of the human that is man? My solution, at the end of the comic, was to continue using they/them pronouns, to shield myself from the horror of being a wo-man, a s-he—an appendage of Him. 

I got a good grade. A stellar report. And it wasn’t a bad comic, for what I knew then. For my condition of blindness and deafness. I made a compelling argument, using sources from class.  But oh, how much older I feel now. I’ve always felt old but now I feel almost like I’m dying. Like I don’t have enough time to fix the world before I disappear. And women’s stories never survive. They are not surviving. networks spring up like mycelium and then every century at least they are burned. Witchcraft is in the air shared by women in a room of their own, and witchcraft is doused in gasoline.

I don’t have enough time to explain how the veil lifted for me. Maybe I forget the big moment. the days after were a blur of searching the no-no tags like radical feminist, GNC, gender critical. Amazed at the wealth of journals that these women linked to with real statistics showing that children are being sterilized for no reason. Mostly gay children. like me, a lesbian, who now lives in a house with three  “non-binary afabs”. This summer, one of these women, who I have known since freshman year, will start taking testosterone, a procedure I took up  for three turbulent months during my freshman year of college. I get to watch her become what I turned away from, knowing the experience fractured my sense of self to a point of  terror and estrangement. I get to watch her hide from her problems and cut herself off from womanhood the way I did for 3 years. I am not a woman, so do I not feel Woman’s pain, she is telling me, I told myself, when I was in a dream.  She has so many problems, she laughs. But trans is a separate problem that has nothing to do with those other problems. A coincidence.

 (For any trans people reading this, you may think: This transtrender fake-trans never-was-trans woman is treating these nonbinary people as if they were dead! as if they weren’t happy people finally living their truth! —well. I put my mom through the process of trying to convince her that I should have always been a man. and I did lose her, for months. For her it was the height of cognitive dissonance that I should want to go on a life-altering hormone to cure my lifelong social awkwardness and self-hatred and self-harm and depression. And I blamed her for not accepting my real self. I was basically made to shun her and my family because of transphobia.. It is disrespectful to anyone’s sanity and integrity for me to perpetuate that cognitive dissonance in this post.)

So I eventually got through to the professor. I knew because of the texts he had us to read for class. He is gay.  He has read all the theory, and lives by it.  And no (woman) student wants to speak to him. To bring the theory alive. They cannot breathe into it and it sits dead in his mouth.

Maybe it is because he is a man. because the presence of one man in a space of all women immediately sends up alerts.  lockdown. Certainly that is the case. Radical Feminists here: I know he’s a man. But I don’t have a woman. And I felt on the strength of the texts he’d given us that he would be my best bet. Maybe somewhere in the corrupted, rotting heart of my college there was a person who knew about thoughtcrimes and was thinking them anyway.

My professor starts with diversion. He starts by talking about my paper. I find it disconcerting that he starts that way. I worry that he won’t want to refer to my email. Where I say: I have woken up from a dream to the apocalypse—Does this man think I’m crazy? Chipper and kind of frantically, he lists off  primary sources of medieval nuns and women saints. for my paper.  Does this man think I’ve turned into a bigot?  Am I confessing lunacy, like a flat-earther?

But I steer the conversation to the meat at his first tentative encouragement. I tell him something like: “children, mostly gay children, a whole generation of gay children, are being sterilized. Porn is a symptom of late-stage capitalism—men’s ownership of women’s bodies. trans is an extension of this. I was part of this. I was in a cult.” I was shaking a bit. I don’t think I’d uttered those words out loud. They sound crazy. Some of the things I said did sound far-fetched. disorganized, remote. But I prayed that my professor would believe some of it, any of it. 

 What I will say is that he believes me.  Thank fuck, right?

He tells me something along the lines of this, vocalizing my fears: 

that all of academia is being scrubbed of anything that doesn’t support Trans.

And it is trans-identified female students and women who are reporting him to Title IX, who spend all their time in his classes fuming at the lack of validation for trans women in the  history of women. My sisters, footsoldiers for the cause. What cruel irony. This man is holding onto this class by his fingernails, speaking through his teeth, hoping any of the twenty young adult women staring blankly or angrily at him will hear him and listen.

 Looking back, the professor’s responses to my emails are vague, completely refusing to acknowledge a point of view other than “WOW. I look forward to discussing this.”  I think he thinks he could be blackmailed. Anything he says on gmail dot com can and would be used against him. It’s like, really, really, really that bad. 

No ideology should involve a cultural cleaning of women’s history feat. witch hunts. 

I will end here with an excerpt from my first email to this professor:

I'm sure you know what a total bummer it is to realize this. 

[babyboibucky]

The Match - Part 9

Pairing: CEO!Bucky x Fem!Reader

Summary: Bucky brings you and Mackenzie with him to an important meeting.

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: Uhhhh hmm work tension, sexual tension, idk Bucky and Mackenzie being annoying as usual lmao

A/N: ALSO I know I haven’t mentioned what the fuck Bucky’s company is all about because c’mon, I didn’t expect I’d get this far lmao so IDK there might be continuity issues or inaccuracies or whatevah, just ignore it lmao it’s fiction. ANYWAAAY, I just want to say how GRATEFUL AND OVERWHELMED I am with the amount of attention that this series is getting. I appreciate every feedback, every ask and every freaking debate about this shit lmfao. I love you guys. I can’t put into words how much I appreciate you all askcnasjkcnak bye

The Match Masterlist || MAIN MASTERLIST

Don't let Bucky or Mackenzie get to you.

Mark's advice rang in your ears like a chant as you watched Bucky and Mackenzie's exchange about the project. Joining them in the conference room for a major brainstorming session was you and a couple of people from your team with Beverly taking down the minutes of the meeting.

The upcoming project was a huge one, given that Barnes Group of Companies was a huge name in the automobile industry. Meanwhile, Wilson Enterprises is one of the biggest autonomous vehicle technology companies out there. This partnership was one for the books, possibly an industry changer too.

You wanted to be a part of it, wanted to spearhead the entire thing and watching Mackenzie take the reigns on this one was truly making your blood boil.

"That sounds like a nice idea, Kenzie." Bucky praised, nodding his head.

Mackenzie shrugged, "It's what I do, Buck." she said.

"Yeah, it's a great idea. I do have some comments though, if you don't mind?" you asked.

Bucky and Mackenzie exchanged glances before turning to you. You glanced at Bucky for a quick second before ignoring the way he was eyeing you with genuine interest.

"I know that bringing in a celebrity to endorse this brand new model would definitely create noise around the partnership. Although I think that would take the spotlight away from the actual product we're creating here. We want customers to focus on the brand new car model and the technology that Wilson Enterprises will be providing it with, not on the celebrity endorser." you explained.

Mackenzie hummed, "I get where you are coming from. That's a good point, actually. But a celebrity endorser will pretty much do everything for the brand. Have him up on billboards and different advertisements and you're all set." she further explained.

You chuckled, "But then how will people understand what the entire partnership is all about? Aren't we supposed to be communicating a certain message to our consumers? Wouldn't it be better to hold an event to launch the product instead? Invite the press and key opinion leaders to spread the word. Have Bucky and Mister Wilson talk about this partnership. They're famous and powerful enough to get the message across. Why waste the budget on a celebrity when we literally have everything we need to make noise?" you shrugged.

The entire room was silent after your feedback, even Mackenzie wasn't able to respond to your suggestion. Glancing over at Bucky, you saw that he was giving you the look-- the one with half-lidded eyes matched with a head tilt, the one that often resulted to him giving you a very nice reward once office hours are over.

Feeling your breath hitch in your throat, you quickly looked away and shrugged your shoulders, "I mean, that's just my two cents. Having worked here for years, I just based it on my experience. You're the expert here, Mackenzie." you offered a proud smile.

Mackenzie tried to brush it off and turned to Bucky, "What do you think, Buck? I'm still into the idea of hiring a celebrity. That's good publicity. And let's not get worried about the budget now," she said, placing a hand on top of Bucky's that was resting on the table, "I have a lot of connections so I can definitely get an endorser for a much lower rate." she reassured.

"We may have a huge budget for this, but that doesn't automatically mean that we have to use it all up. We can allocate it somewhere else, maybe start a CSR campaign as well? We are, after all, coming out with an environmental-friendly model." you suggested.

You heard Bucky when he took a sharp inhale, bringing his hands up to rub his lips as if in deep thought. He then turned to Beverly, however, his eyes remained on you.

"Take note of everything she says." he reminded her before standing up.

He asked everyone else in the room of their opinions, whether it was your or Mackenzie's idea that the company will go for. The team was divided in half, some of them preferring Mackenzie's celebrity pitch probably because they didn't want to do a lot of work.

Bucky nodded, "Well, I guess we'll have to discuss both ideas with my partner Sam and let's see where we will go from there. I have a meeting with him this afternoon, I need you and Kenzie with me there." he said, looking at your before turning to Kenzie with a charming smile.

Don't let them get to you.

-

You've never wanted for the ground to swallow you up until this moment as you stood behind Bucky and Mackenzie in the elevator. This felt so much more uncomfortable than when you shared it with Bucky after swiping right with him on Tinder. There was still tension and it felt so much worse now because you didn't know whether it was between you and Bucky or him and Mackenzie.

Fucking Mackenzie and her nicely manicured nails which always seemed find its way around Bucky's arm. You eyed her hands as they squeezed his arm, the both of them talking in hushed voices as if you weren't standing behind them.

"I've been dying to try this restaurant, I heard they serve good food. Do you want to go have dinner there sometime this week?" she asked Bucky.

"I'll check my schedule, which restaurant is this?" he asked.

When Mackenzie uttered the name of that restaurant where you celebrated your promotion, you and Bucky choked on your own spits at the same time. Warmth crept up to your cheeks at the same time Bucky's ears reddened.

"Oh, what's going on?" Mackenzie asked with a nervous chuckle as she looked at you and Bucky, struggling with your coughs.

You recovered first and shook your head, "Sorry, I get allergies. Anyway, I've been to that restaurant. They do serve good food, the staff was very hospitable as well. I'm sure Bucky would enjoy it there." you said with a smile, pushing your way past them when the elevators door slid open.

Mackenzie asking Bucky whether he was up for dinner was the last thing you heard. Good luck explaining to her why he's banned from there, you thought to yourself.

Bucky led the way to his car and it instantly brought certain memories back. You weren't going to lie, you missed the fucking and how Bucky always made sure to take care of your needs. Seeing his car was enough to make your thighs clench at the memory of him fingering you as he drove.

His gaze was on you when he opened the door to the passenger's seat, his eyes inviting as you approached him. And just as when you were about to slip in, he turned over to Mackenzie and gestured for her to get in.

What a fucking asshole, you thought to yourself as you took a step back to ride in the back instead. You tried to keep your expression stoic when you saw that Bucky checked for a reaction. He seemed perplexed when he saw that you didn't react that much to what he did.

One hundred points to Gryffindor.

-

The location for the meeting was at a nearby restaurant so you didn't suffer that much during the entire ride. Mackenzie was busy with her phone anyway, typing out messages with those manicured fingers you were beginning to hate.

By the time all three of you arrived, Sam was already there. He donned a navy blue suit and he was rocking it. You'd seen his photos on the internet and knew that he was good-looking, but seeing him in the flesh, you were stunned at how gorgeous he was. Sam stood up when he saw Bucky, offering a kind smile to you and Mackenzie.

You weren't sure whether you were just being assuming or what, but you noticed how his eyes lingered on you longer that it did with Mackenzie.

"Sam." Bucky greeted, shaking his hand before introducing you and Mackenzie.

Sam shook Mackenzie's hand first before he turned to you. You took his hand and introduced yourself, "Mister Wilson." you said.

"Please, just Sam." he told you as he gently squeezed your hand before letting go.

"Have a seat." Sam said to Bucky and Mackenzie before pulling out the chair next to him, motioning for you to sit down.

You thanked him and sat down; straightening up, you were met with Bucky's watchful gaze as he sat down across you. Your attention was taken away when Sam asked what you wanted to order, he even suggested a certain dish and immediately went to discuss that it was his favorite thing to order.

This was going to be an interesting meeting.

And interesting it truly was, because you didn't expect for Sam to be so laid-back and easy to communicate with. He wasn't one of those uptight CEOs who were very intimidating to work with. Simply put, he was the complete opposite of Bucky. While Bucky was ice cold, Sam was sunshine and warmth with his attitude.

When it came down to pitching your and Mackenzie's ideas to him, you suddenly got nervous. Sam wasn't born with a silver spoon in his mouth; from what you've read, he started off working regular jobs before he climbed his way to the top. He was a self-made man and he had extensive knowledge in the marketing industry, having a doctorate degree in the said area.

Mackenzie was the first to discuss her strategy about hiring a celebrity endorser. She said it was fast and straight to the point. When it was your turn, you started off a bit shaky but eventually found your pacing.

"We wanted to ask you how this should go on about. I know that the offer for a partnership came from our end and that we're supposed to pitch the details for it. But we wanted you to be involved in this as much as we are." Bucky further explained.

Sam nodded and let out an amused chuckle, "I really appreciate this, Buck. I was going to ask you if I can contribute with the planning as well. I'm very particular when it comes to marketing our products." he said.

"That being said, I loved both ideas. I think hiring a celebrity endorser is good." he said, making Mackenzie smile proudly.

"But I would rather hold an event to launch the product. You understand the product and what we want to do with it. It's not just a brand new car, it's an innovation and the messaging is very important. I'm very impressed." Sam said, his attention geared towards you.

"Wow, I'm honored." you laughed. "Coming from you, I mean I've read about the marketing studies you did. Pretty big deal to receive a compliment from you." you admitted.

It was meant to be a genuine reaction, really. You had no ill intentions for it, you didn't do it to make Bucky jealous or get the upper hand. However, your passion for your career and area of expertise seemed to favor you. It had Bucky on edge, seeing you and Sam get along so well.

You didn't even need to check for Bucky's reaction because he simply cleared his throat and excused himself to go to the restroom. Mackenzie seemed unbothered though, when Sam favored your pitch over hers. You couldn't read her, sometimes she'd come off competitive but right now, she was unaffected.

When Bucky got back, he was quick to finalize the meeting, "I guess it's a done deal then. We'll work on the details of the launch and maybe we can set another meeting for the major presentation for your approval?" he asked Sam.

"That sounds like a plan. I'm looking forward to working with you." Sam told everyone, although he did seem to be directly addressing you.

"Alright, I'm leaving too." Mackenzie announced after Sam left the restaurant.

"Oh, you're not heading back to the office with us?" Bucky asked.

Mackenzie shook her head, throwing her bag over her shoulder, "I have another meeting. You know how it is with freelance work." she said as all three of you stood up to head outside of the restaurant.

"My Uber's here, I guess I'll see you both sometime this week." she said and waved at you before turning to Bucky and pressing a kiss on his cheek.

"I'm counting on that dinner, okay?" she reminded before slipping into her Uber, leaving you and Bucky to head back to the office together.

Alone with Bucky. In his car. The exact same car where plenty of fucking happened. Again, you chanted Mark’s advice in your head over and over again.

Don’t let Bucky get to you. And most of all, don’t cave in.

You quickly slipped inside the front seat of Bucky’s car before he could even open it up for you. The air was thick between you and Bucky and it almost felt like it was suffocating you. Reaching for the seatbelt, you tugged at it but it wouldn’t budge. Cursing to yourself, you tried again but to no avail.

“What’s wrong?” Bucky asked.

“Nothing. Seatbelt’s just stuck.” you grunted, using both your hands to pull down at it.

“Here, let me.”

Suddenly, Bucky reached over to your seatbelt and tried to fix it. His face was inches away from yours and you literally felt your insides jump at how you were immediately drowned in his perfume. If you moved forward so much as half an inch, your lips would already be pressing against the corner of Bucky’s mouth. And that thought was sending your senses into overdrive.

Do not. Cave. In.

The loud click of the seatbelt made you relax and thank goodness that Bucky was quick to move away from you, fixing his suit before starting the engine. The office may just be nearby but the fact that you and Bucky were together was making it feel like it was going to be an hour-long drive.

“So what do you think about Sam?” Bucky asked out of the blue.

He was gauging you, trying to get a reaction from you. Maybe he was expecting you to be flirty with your response, or be defensive even? You weren’t going to give him that.

“I think he’s great. Like I said, I’ve read his marketing studies and they were very insightful. I learned a lot.”

Plain, simple and safe. There was no hidden meanings and no malice; you were doing great at this whole not letting Bucky get to you thing. You made a mental note to thank Mark for his advice.

“He seems interested in you.” Bucky said again, shrugging his shoulders a bit and trying to be as nonchalant as he could.

“Well we are in the same field of expertise and I was very straightforward about admiring his skills. I’d be disappointed if he brushed off my ideas.” you slightly chuckled.

“I liked Mackenzie’s idea better, honestly.” Bucky blurted out.

By this time, you had Bucky’s plans figured out. He was coming for your job, using it as a bait to get a reaction out from you. He knew how much your career meant for you, how competitive you were in your field. Whenever his other tactics wouldn’t work, he’d always go for the career aspect.

“It was good.” you agreed, turning to Bucky with a small smile. “I think we can do that for other campaigns. Just not with this partnership. I like her.” you said.

“You do?” Bucky asked in surprise before he cleared his throat upon realizing that he sort of broke his facade.

You shrugged, “She’s a headstrong woman. She reminds me of myself actually.”

If you were alone, you would have given yourself a high-five because that statement truly made Bucky think. His forehead creased as he drove, his hand rubbing his chin and his jaw clenching as if he was in deep thought.

It was silent inside the car for a brief moment, before it was interrupted by the trilling of Bucky’s phone. He fished it out of his pocket but before he could even answer it, it slipped out of his hand and disappeared beneath his seat.

“Fuck.” Bucky cursed, both his hands on the steering wheel as he continued to drive, his attention divided between driving and searching for his ringing phone.

“Shit.” he hissed again, not knowing how to get his phone while driving. He quickly glanced at you before focusing on the road again. “Baby, can you get it for me?”

You almost missed the term of endearment. Almost. It was obviously a slip of the tongue because he genuinely didn’t seem to realize that he called you that. Bucky was more focused on the road rather than processing what he just said. You chose to ignore it the same way you did to the butterflies that erupted in your stomach.

“Yeah, okay.” you said and reached over to him, bending down to look for his phone.

In a split second, your face was right in front of Bucky’s crotch as you tried to reach beneath his car seat. You tried to ignore the bulge that was staring right at you and let your hand do the searching.

“Can you reach it?” Bucky asked.

You straightened up, “No. Can you pull aside?” you asked.

Bucky checked the surroundings and then the rearview mirror, “We can’t. We’re at a no loading and unloading zone.” he explained.

The phone continues to trill and it doesn’t seem like it would stop any time now. You sighed and removed your seatbelt before stretching your body over Bucky, slipping underneath his arms on the steering wheel so you can fully reach under his seat.

From another car’s view, you looked like you were giving him a blowjob. Not that you haven’t done that before, in this same car.

Finally, you felt his phone at the tip of your fingers and stretched further, your free hand coming to grip Bucky’s thigh unintentionally. It was only when you felt his muscles flex beneath his trousers that you realized how near your hand was to his crotch.

“Did you,” Bucky cleared his throat. “Did you get it?” he stammered.

You still have a certain effect on him, how very nice. Biting back a smirk, you hummed in response before pulling back and then handing him his phone casually. Mackenzie’s name was flashing on the screen as the phone continued to ring.

“Sorry, can you answer it and put it on speakerphone?” Bucky asked again.

You shrugged and did as you were told, holding the phone near Bucky as he continued to drive.

“Hey, Kenzie. Sorry, I dropped my phone. What’s up?” Bucky asked.

“Yeah, so my meeting got cancelled at the last minute. I was thinking maybe we can grab that dinner tonight instead?”

Bucky stole a quick glance from you but your face remained stoic, your hand steady as you held out his phone.

“Sure, how does around 7pm sound? I can pick you up.” Bucky offered.

“Sounds great. So are we checking that restaurant I was talking about?”

Bucky’s ears turned red again but he quickly recovered, “I was thinking of trying out a different one. I honestly didn’t like their dessert.”

Huh, that was weird. You and Bucky didn’t even make it to--

Fuck, he was talking about you, you realized. Clenching your jaw, you tried to keep calm. He was trying to get a rise out of you, don’t give in. Don’t react. Bucky’s conversation with Mackenzie didn’t last long and ended when they settled the location for their dinner.

The ride back to the office was quiet again, until your phone lit up from a notification. Bucky was already parking in the basement when you checked your phone, an audible gasp slipping past your lips upon reading the notification from LinkedIn.

Samuel Wilson wants to connect with you.

-

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