#but that’s not how tumblr works and it’s like screaming into a void when you tell people otherwise

[thats-a-lot-of-cortisol]

My mom just sent a message to the family group chat suggesting that my siblings download the 'For the Strength of Youth' magazine on their Gospel Library app and talked about how much the youth magazines helped her testimony growing up and like, cool. Fine. Don't know why the 'sending random spiritual thoughts in the gc' thing started out of nowhere when it hadn't been a thing for a decade but this is just another one of those, and you're ofc allowed to talk about things that are significant in your life.

I don't think sending the 'What I Did When Someone Close to Me Challenged My Faith' article right afterwards was strictly necessary though 🙃

[robertdowneyjjr]

you know the thing that’s actually really great about polls on tumblr is that it’s bringing back a lot of the engagement that has been missing in the last few years. people are reblogging these posts, sharing the content they’re interested in and adding their commentary in the tags. there’s not as huge of a discrepancy between the number of reblogs and likes. idk about the rest of you but i’ve seen a lot more of this since polls were introduced compared to even a month ago and i hope this continues even on posts that aren’t polls.

[the-wip-project]

40k in 42 days. How does it work?

Hello writerly friends!

Let me answer a few FAQs regarding this project:

When does it start?

The first Sunday of August. For 2024 that's:

Start: 4th of August

End: 14th of September

I want to make this a yearly event.

Do I have to write 40k?

No. You don't have to do anything like that. I'm a strong supporter of individual, personal goals, and if your goal is higher or lower than 40k, that's totally fine.

Do I have to work on one thing the whole time?

No. You can switch projects however your inspiration guides you and just add up all the words for your daily wordcount. (Psst, I do this all the time!)

Do you have a website where we get pretty graphs as we count our words?

Well, I don't have one (maybe by next year I can get something to work, but my coding days are quite long ago and websites cost money...) but I suggest we use https://www.mywriteclub.com/ for now. It's been in beta for the last 10 years but it works. Create a project with September the 14th as the deadline and add me (barbex) as your friend, then we can see each other's progress.

Do we get some community?

I hope so. This is difficult but I'm trying my best to draw you all together. Mywriteclub will help with seeing how other people write, we also have a discord server with a check-in channel to post daily wordcounts and do some chatting. I'm also posting on Instagram (very screaming into the void there), Xitter (not sure if anybody sees posts there at all), and bluesky (the voidest of voids), but I feel the most comfortable here on tumblr. So here is where I will post the most with tips, advice, and motivational shenanigans (with the help of some friends, maybe).

A community needs action from everyone, so I would love to see (mention me) posts about your WIP, how you plan to write, what your mywriteclub name is so that other people can friend you there. I will also try to make daily posts from my writing blog, maybe even make some videos (???) and talk about my work(s) in progress.

40k in 42 days

Start: 4th of August

End: 14th of September

Let's write.

[melbatron5000]

Reality is . . . off

Here's me, screaming into the void. I've got no theory, only Clues.

Reality seems to be acting strangely in Season 2 of Good Omens. Mostly around Aziraphale. My examples:

This season seems to be from Aziraphale's point of view, and all the colors and lighting seem to be very bright and vibrant.

The note from Maggie -- another post on Tumblr (damned if I can find it now) pointed out that she puts her phone down right as Aziraphale comes into her shop for the first time. She seems to be texting him, but the text message arrives to his door as a note in the mail slot because that's how he expects to receive correspondences.

Changing the Bentley into Our Car -- and in the flashback to 1941 that happens after the trip to Edinburgh in the show, the Bently is still a four-door. He changed it and then made it so it always was that way. (There's a line in the book about someone being powerful enough to change something and then make it so it always was that way -- something that's repeated about the Book of Life, too. Hmm . . .) No wonder Crowley just opens up the back door to put his plants in, it's always had a back door at that point! And please don't @ me with the Bently is not a Clue -- the change happens right in scene, on screen. That was not a "they hoped no one would notice" moment. And yes, I know they weren't able to use Mary for the second season. They got a reasonable look-alike, and then changed that car into a four-door. For why??

The Bentley following him when he parks it. People have said, "Oh, yes, the Bentley is sentient, of course!" But it hasn't done anything to show that until after Aziraphale drives it. And don't @ me with the Queen -- the gag in the book says that any album left in a car for more than a fortnight transmogrifies into The Best of Queen. It's not the Bentley doing that, it's just a fact of Queen. (Can confirm.)

Aziraphale is terrible at magic. But somehow, when he really needs to make a trick work, he does it. Oh, yeah, babe? You just put that photo right up your sleeve slick as that? Hm.

That 25 Lazarii miracle. Neither of them expected that. Yet there it was.

The whole ball. He wasn't casting miracles, reality was just -- conforming itself to what he wanted.

Now my point is . . . I don't know. My observation is that reality seems to be following Aziraphale's wishes, and I don't think he even realizes that it shouldn't be. Not entirely. Or is it that he knows reality is re-shaping itself around him, and he's enjoying it?

Reality is not warping around Crowley in the same way, and Crowley seems to be able to feel something's wrong. Coming in waves, like a hangover.

Now, I have heard it said that Neil has also pointed out that our angel and demon warp reality just by existing. Okay, actually makes sense. How could an occult and celestial being not mess with reality without even realizing they're doing it?

Am I chewing on a nothing burger?

Is Aziraphale turned up somehow?

What is going on.

[handofmidas-writes]

I didn't hate season 4. Or the love triangle. Let me explain.

Okay. Listen. Listenlistenlisten.

I know everyone is pissed about season 4. I hear you. I get it. I don’t think anyone is thinking that this was a well-executed season. Not by any stretch of the imagination.

But hear me out.

The bones of the thing are good in principle. The arc makes sense at the heart of it. Again, hear me out.

MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

The entire series is about saving the world by stopping the apocalypse. And as all the Fives in the deli have shown, the apocalypse is due to the Hargreeves siblings’ very existence. Reginald has fucked over every iteration of the kids to bring back his wife who died as a result of her own actions in creating marigold. He couldn’t give her up, and he was willing to rip universes apart to get her back. Five has tried time and time and time again to save his family, ad infinitum. He knows how to solve the problem, but he can’t bring himself to do it. Until this Five. They are, as we here on tumblr love to say, doomed by the narrative.

Five also says the universe loves balance. We saw this in season 3 with the kugelblitz. They were an impossibility in the universe and the kugelblitz formed to solve the problem by eliminating them. Impossibility for impossibility.

One of the Fives founded the Commission to solve the problem. It happens every time.

Abigail’s purpose through the whole season is to ensure the Cleanse, to reset the universe to the correct timeline. She shouldn’t be there. The kids shouldn’t be there. They are a direct result of Reginald releasing marigold into the world to enact his plan of resurrecting Abigail. The universe is trying to return to homeostasis, balance itself. And in every iteration, it needs to rid itself of the marigold, the substance that shouldn’t exist in the first place.

Ergo, the principle is sound, in my opinion.

The execution was shit, as I’m sure we all can agree.  I don’t like that they cease to exist, necessarily, and I think there were other avenues they could have taken to avoid that. But I can stomach it.

The shit storm is certainly in the characterizations. They did almost everyone dirty in some way or another. I think it could have been saved with a few more episodes, but we know that Netflix sucks like that and the season definitely suffered after the strike. I won’t be going into all of the characters just now since I’m apparently a loquacious bitch and don’t have the space. (And I know this is all being screamed into the void anyway. None of y’all will be reading any of this lol.)

Here’s where I’m going to ruffle feathers. I buy into the whole Diego/Lila/Five thing. And here’s why. (Cut here because this bitch got real long. Like 1.5k words long. Oops.)

The first episode is called “The Unbearable Tragedy of Getting What You Want.” Is it a slightly contrived Now That We’re Not Superheroes Our Normal Lives Kind Of Suck thing? Absolutely. Has it been overused in basically everything ever? You bet. Does it kind of work here? Yeah, actually.

These people legitimately don’t know what to do without powers. They’re coming fresh off the heels of trying and failing to save the world 3 different times. That takes adjustment. A lot of adjustment.

Lila and Diego fall into parenthood, which is a huge thing in and of itself. It’s not surprising that Diego turns into the stereotypical suburban dad, the breadwinner because that’s what he thinks his role should be. It doesn’t fully make sense that Lila turns into a housewife, but I can see her trying to throw Diego a bone and trying to make up for how she’s treated him in the past. Not to mention proving herself as a mother.

It makes sense for Lila to want to get out of the house and do her own thing, without her kids and her husband. It makes sense for Diego to resent his low level job when all he’s wanted to be is a badass and a hero.  Their frustration about their family life is understandable. Being a family is a lot of effort. There’s a loss of freedom when people become parents. And these are two headstrong people who have things to prove to themselves, to make sure they show up for their kids. Which leads to breakdowns in taking care of themselves and their relationship to each other.

Now, the sticky bit comes in with the whole love triangle. I know folks hate the subway subplot. Here’s the thing, despite how it was executed, it makes sense, too.

It’s an interesting way to portray the Many Worlds Theory and it’s plausible enough that Lila and Five connect in this way because of their shared knowledge of the Commission. It makes sense that they explore it together.

Which leads me to this: Five is incredibly lonely. He spent 40 years alone in an apocalypse and tried everything in his power to get back. He fell in love with a mannequin because she was the only thing keeping him tethered and sane-adjacent (sweet Dolores, we’ll never forget you, queen). He was desperate and alone and persisted because he had to.

He joined the Commission to try and stop said apocalypse and then inadvertently ended up in another. He’s tired of trying to save his family over and over and now he’s not sure there’s anything he can do to save them this time. And now here he is, stuck in the labyrinthine Subway of Fuckery with Lila and they can’t get out. Lila who has the same training as him, the same knowledge base, who went with him to the remnants of the Commission in season 3 and tried to save them all. Let’s call them frenemies, I guess.

And now here they are. Stuck together and feeling helpless. Enduring every fucking thing under the sun, watching each other’s backs, and they only have each other. And they’re tired. They’ve been searching for a way home for six fucking years. So, they decide to stop running and catch their breath. I won’t say it’s an inevitability, but Five is so lonely and scared. And Lila is lonely and scared and without her children. But they’re safe with each other, and they take comfort in each other, and it’s so easy to blur those lines.

So yeah, they end up together in the now infamous cottagecore greenhouse with the strawberries. And they try not to think about Diego. Is it right of them to do this? Well, no. But are people messy as hell? Yes. And are their actions understandable? Also yes.

So, to me, when Five finds the notebook and keeps it hidden from Lila, it tracks. Because he’s so fucking scared of what’s going to happen now. What if they still can’t make it back? What if they can’t save the world this time? What if it all comes down around his ears again? So he hides in easy domesticity and thinks about the solace they’ve found in each other.

And Lila, understandably, blows up when she realizes Five has hidden this from her. Because for her, this was a way to cope. To survive, as she says. She loves her children. And she loves Diego. She didn’t stop loving them. She couldn’t stop loving them. But she might just love Five, too. And isn’t that scary as hell?

People are many faceted, my friends. Does it make what she did morally right? Of course not. But does it make sense? I truly think it does.

The limited number of episodes is one of the largest contributors to the half-baked-ness of it all. There’s not enough time to flesh out a proper resolution to the whole thing. Which led to Diego’s hunch from episode 2 of Lila cheating with Greek guy/Five accidentally being correct foreshadowing. Which then resulted in a heavy confession from Lila in front of the entire family (which I was digging, just like the siblings, tbh). And then the boys started throwing punches and the whole love triangle thing went completely down the shitter (a dubious and debatable statement, I know).

So, that leaves us with Lila who is now in the middle of two brothers. Said brothers are now physically fighting out bad blood and pent up frustration. And only part of it is due to Lila.

Diego’s character is criminally underdeveloped. He was always halfway between the underdog and class clown and his characterization in this season falls spectacularly flat in all aspects. He’s a character who has fought to prove himself over and over again, and is still trying to do that here, but nothing really lands. Diego and Luther are comic relief mostly. And Diego’s role, unfortunately, ended up being a stick in the spokes of a sloppy love triangle and pretty much nothing else.

Five is obviously the favorite in Blackman’s eyes. Five is knowledgeable. Five always has an idea. Five is the one the family looks to for answers, more often than not. Five is the one who almost always opts to save his family in some way, shape, or form. And this has resulted in Five being sad and helpless, in a way. He has been building this emotional bomb for decades and across timelines without any real release or acknowledgement. So Blackman chose to have Five get his emotional release in the form of “a love story” with Lila. Doing it this way, with the limited number of episodes, left Diego’s part woefully inadequate.

No resolution really takes place here. Diego kind of “wins” insofar as he convinces Lila to take their family to the subway and she takes his hand first when they all say goodbye. Five gets the teary “I hate you for this,” after she ends up choosing self-sacrifice with the others, which we know means “I am so incredibly sad and I hate that you told us the truth because it means everything ends for real this time and I’ve had to let my family go.” Then she holds his hand, too, showing that all is forgiven, here at the end of all things.

There’s definitely not a resolution for Diego, and it can certainly be inferred that he still pretty much hates Five’s guts. I get the feeling that Five is just resigned to finally ending the cycle. He knows he’s hurt Diego badly and I think he does feel bad for it, but it’s not translated into the final scene, which leaves the whole situationship hollow and earned it the well deserved hate for hilariously poor execution.

So that’s it, friends. That’s my unpopular opinion and way too many words justifying it. I surprisingly have more I could blather on about, but I’ll spare y’all from including any more in this post. Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk.

And for a final palate cleanser for those of you who do not care about any of this: I think we deserve a side plot of Five and Derek the Twink from the CIA. The true OTP. (Also Brisket Five, who is the real MVP.)

[1800-fight-me]

Thunderstorms & Heartache

Aemond Targaryen x Female!Reader

Rating: M (Mature)- as a general rule for my blog, minors please do not interact!

Warnings: violence, cursing, kidnapping, men being creepy.... i think that’s all. 

Word count: About 5.6k

Synopsis: When Aemond captures you the night before your wedding, your life goes down a path of twists and turns that you never expected. Here’s my take on an enemies-to-lovers snuggling-to-survive Aemond x reader fic! 

Author’s note: Sorry I’ve been gone for months! I’m throwing this into the void and running away again (lol) there will eventually (most likely) be a part two to this fic. I still make no promises that I will be back on tumblr regularly, but I hope y’all like this! 

I am no longer using a taglist! Instead if you would like to be notified when I post new fics follow my side blog @jo-writes-fanfic and turn your post notifications on!

Aemond Masterlist

You woke in a panic as a hand that was certainly not yours covered your mouth and prevented you from screaming. 

Your eyes widened and your ineffective frantic efforts to fight back lessened as you saw who woke you. 

At the recognition in your eyes he raised his brow in a silent question of your compliance. 

“If I take my hand away, will you scream?” he whispered. 

You reluctantly shook your head even as you glared at him. 

He did as promised and you took a deep breath as you attempted to calm the sharp panic that flowed through you. 

“What the hell are you doing here, Aemond?” you hissed. 

“I am here to rescue you,” he said as he sat back on your bed and pulled you up to a sitting position. 

“Rescue me? I never asked to be rescued,” you snapped at him, wide eyed and confused. 

“Regardless, you are coming with me, sweetheart,” he said with a roll of his eye and enough sarcasm to raise your blood pressure. 

“No, I’m not. Get out of here before I’m caught with a man in my room the night before my wedding,” you said through clenched teeth as you attempted to extricate yourself from his hands as he held your wrist and shoulder. 

His grip only tightened. 

“There will be no wedding,” he replied shortly and you wanted to smack the stupid eyepatch off his face. 

“So you are capturing me then. Who are you to dictate my future?” 

He stared at you with a deadpan look that you were all too familiar with. 

“Your capturer, obviously. Is that not how being captured works?” he drawled. 

You huffed indignantly. 

“Are you going to be compliant or will you make this whole ordeal more miserable than it has to be?” he asked as he stood and pulled you out of the bed with him. 

“The second option,” you snipped back. 

He sighed dramatically even as he threw you over his shoulder unexpectedly and you let out an indignant squeak in surprise. 

“Be quiet,” he hissed. 

“No! If you do not put me down I will scream, I swear it. I will screech and holler and-” 

The wind was taken out of you as he suddenly dropped you down on your bed once more. 

“Quiet! You will get us caught!,” he whispered angrily. 

“Yes, my prince, that is pretty much the point,” you said with a roll of your eyes. 

He pursed his lips in anger as he pulled out a knife. 

Your eyes widened once again in fear, but he used it to cut fabric off the sheet on your bed and then wrapped it across your mouth and tied it on the back of your head. 

You let out a muffled curse of anger and he smirked in satisfaction. 

“Now, do I need to tie your hands and feet together as well or will you be a good little captive and come with me willingly?” 

You merely glared at him and folded your arms across your chest in a small act of defiance. 

You knew that you were incapable of fighting him off physically. The last time you saw him was about a year and a half ago and even then as you watched him train you were taken back by how quick and lethal he had become. 

“Good,” he said with a small upcurve of his lips and hauled you over his shoulder once more. 

_______________

After much sneaking, he made it out of the fortress and crept around to the side where a horse waited for him. 

The moon was at the dark phase of her cycle and it was nearly pitch black. 

He pulled you off his shoulder and placed you on the ground surprisingly gently and slowly which caused your breath to catch. 

As your body slid down the length of his you tried to remind yourself that you hate him. 

You never were very good at believing that particular lie, no matter how many times you told yourself. 

He pulled the cloth off your mouth. There was a soft look in his eye. 

You looked over at the horse and then back at him. 

“Where is Vhagar?” you asked. 

He pursed his lips in annoyance and looked up at the sky as if he were cursing you inside his mind. 

“It would not exactly be inconspicuous to have the largest dragon in the world here with me, now would it?” 

You narrowed your eyes at him as you placed your hands on your hips. 

“She waits for us, but it is a few days' journey on horseback to reach her,” he explained. 

“This is the worst kidnapping I’ve ever been a part of,” you muttered. 

He ignored you, even as he shook his head and moved past you to the horse. 

He ran his hand across its mane and then pulled a bundle of clothes out of the saddle bag. 

He thrust them at you and turned back to the horse. 

“Dress quickly. We need to leave immediately,” he ordered. 

You didn’t have a retort as you truly were grateful for the warm clothes and quickly shucked off your nightgown and redressed in them. 

You were surprised to find that he had given you trousers as opposed to a dress, but you supposed it made sense given the long and cold journey ahead of you. You were grateful for the multiple layers and warmth they provided you. 

You traded your slippers for thick socks and boots and with a small clearing of your throat he turned back to survey your work. 

He nodded and pulled your hood over your head, his touch surprisingly gentle, just as his had been firmly pulled over his shock of white hair to hide it. 

He helped you onto the horse and then sat right behind you. 

The heat of his chest warmed your back as his body was pressed tightly against yours. 

He clicked his tongue and the horse started at a gallop, and soon it was a sprint. 

You and your captor made your way south towards King’s Landing without detection. 

_______________

As the sun began to rise your eyes drooped and your head fell back against Aemond’s shoulder. 

“If you fall asleep and tumble off the horse I shall be incredibly cross with you,” he drawled and you huffed. 

“You dragged me out of my bed in the middle of the night, how do you expect me to not be tired?” 

He sighed. 

“We will stop soon, but we need to get as much distance between us and your former betrothed,” he said firmly. 

You decided to try to annoy him with your silence. It always used to work when you were children. Sure, Aemond was one who appreciates silence, but not when it was due to your anger at him. He never used to be able to handle it when you were mad at him.  

But, oh, how times have changed. 

“What? No withering retort?” he demanded. 

You maintained your silence. 

“Hm. Glorious silence. I would have kidnapped you earlier if I knew it was the price of such blessed quiet,” he said with a dark chuckle. 

You rolled your eyes but refused to speak. 

He sighed softly at his failed attempts to bait you into conversation. 

You smirked in satisfaction. 

_______________

Hours later you finally said, “I thought you said we would stop soon.” 

He laughed spitefully. “I thought you weren’t speaking to me.” 

You sighed. 

“Up here looks like a safe place to rest for a little while,” he said softly as he led the horse off the path and further into the woods. 

You sat and ate your meal of bread, dried meat, and hard cheese while you watched him pull various items out of the saddle bags. 

He laid a blanket out on the ground and gestured towards it. 

You watched him warily and did not move. 

“Honestly, are you really going to be angry with me the entirety of this trip?” he asked as he sat down and crossed his long legs. 

“Trip? This isn’t a trip, Aemond. You stole me from the home of my betrothed!” 

He sighed and rolled his eye. 

“You are such a prick,” you seethed. 

“It is not as if you wished to marry him! Look me in the eye and truthfully tell me you desired to be wed to that sack of shit and I will betray my brother’s orders and take you back immediately.” 

You looked down at your hands as you fidgeted and ripped apart the bread nervously. 

You could not tell him what he asked of you. 

You didn’t want to look up and see the smirk that surely adorned his lips. 

“It was my duty,” you said softly, weakly. 

“You used to care little for duty,” he said, his voice velvety smooth, the way it always did when he felt assured he had won an argument. 

“Yes, well I grew up, Aemond. I learned that I must do what was expected of me in order to survive,” you rasped as tears began to fill your eyes. 

You risked a glance up at you and his expression was hard, but there was a flicker of remorse and concern in his eye. 

You looked away. 

He sighed. 

“Rest. I’ll wake you in a few hours so we can continue our journey,” he said and you nodded. 

You returned the remainder of your food to the saddle bag and as you laid on the blanket, Aemond laid another on top of you. 

You didn’t get a chance to say anything as he immediately turned and walked a few paces away to sit on watch. 

Sleep quickly found you. 

_______________

You woke, once again, to Aemond startling you awake. 

It was becoming a habit for him, one you loathed. 

He hissed your name and shook your shoulder as he crouched over you. 

You looked at him and opened your mouth but he shook his head and whispered, “There’s a group of men coming this way. We need to be prepared.” 

You nodded even as your heart began to pound. 

As quickly as you could, you helped him pack up the supplies. 

He pulled up his hood and you followed suit before he helped you up onto the horse. 

He was soon behind you and grabbed the reins. 

“I don’t have to remind you that betraying me and taking your chances with random men would be a horribly stupid decision, do I?” he murmured in your ear as four men on horses neared the two of you as you returned to the path in the forest. 

The thought had of course crossed your mind. But you at least knew Aemond to be relatively honorable. You didn’t have the same assurances of the strange men you were soon to encounter. 

“No,” you breathed out. 

“Good. Take your hood down. Perhaps if they are distracted by how pretty you are they will not ask many questions of us,” he whispered. 

Your heart thumped harder within your chest. 

You did as he asked. 

“Would it not have been wiser to keep hiding?” you murmured back as the men were close enough to properly view them. 

You gulped in fear. 

“We were not very well hidden. And besides, it is always better to meet potential enemies prepared and on your feet,” he said quietly, his mouth close to your ear. 

“Hello there!” one of the men called out as he raised his hand in a wave. 

Aemond waved back. 

They met you in the road and Aemond pulled the horse to a halt. 

“Where are you lot headed?” the man asked in a thick accent and a too curious gleam in his eye. 

“My wife and I are headed south towards the city to find better work,” Aemond replied curtly. 

You kept your expression neutral though you wanted to scowl at him calling you his wife. 

“Not much work in the city. You may have to go further,” one of the men called out. 

“Thank you for the suggestion. We’ll take it into consideration,” Aemond replied and indicated the horse to continue forward. 

“Have I seen you somewhere before?” the man in the back asked, and he was looking directly at you. 

You shook your head, but did not speak for fear that your shaky voice would betray you. 

“I highly doubt it. My wife and I have lived very remote for the last few years. But she does have the type of beauty that feels familiar to many,” he said and one hand curled around your hip protectively. 

“Safe travels,” he then said before they could reply and continued his guidance of the horse forward and past the group of men. 

“To you as well,” one of the men replied but there was something in his voice that pricked at the back of your neck. 

You turned and watched the men as they rode in the opposite direction. 

Once they were out of sight you heaved a sigh of relief and slumped back into his body. 

He buried his face in your neck and hair and hummed softly. 

“I do not think they believed our story. We must make haste as well as change our route, otherwise we may find more trouble,” Aemond said.  

You allowed yourself a few more moments of comfort from his touch before you sat up straighter and put as much space between the two of you that riding together on a horse would allow, which wasn’t very much. 

“Okay,” you said shakily. 

_______________

Trouble found you not much later in the form of a viciously cold thunderstorm. 

Harsh rain turned into ice as it pelted your skin. The cold cut through and seeped into your bones. 

Aemond had already led the horse off the beaten path and through the woods, a lesser known path he claimed to be familiar with. 

The trees did not provide enough protection from the weather, however. 

Hooded cloaks could only do so much to prevent one from becoming soaked. 

As quickly as possible, but also after what felt like an eternity, Aemond spotted a shallow cave on the side of a large hill. 

It was protected enough from the elements to provide a reprieve.  

You pulled off your cloak and found that your shirt was not as wet as you expected, the same however could not be said for your pants. 

At the look on your face Aemond said, “I do not have any additional clothes for either of us. You should still remove them and let them dry.” 

You glared at him. 

“I will freeze to death.” 

He tossed you the blankets. 

“You’ll freeze quicker wearing cold wet clothes.” 

You pursed your lips together but could not deny the logic of what he said. 

You laid out one of the blankets and then looked over your shoulder to see him murmuring softly to the horse. 

You unlaced and slid your feet out of your boots, grateful they had protected your thick socks enough that they were still dry, then shucked off your wet trousers. 

You laid them beside your cloak in an attempt to allow them to dry before you laid on top of the blanket and pulled the second blanket firmly over you to protect your modesty. 

“This storm will surely delay us. Hopefully it passes during the night,” Aemond said. 

“What will happen to me when we arrive at our destination?” you asked in a small voice. 

He turned back and looked at you in concern. 

“Do you imagine I would drag you to some horrific fate?” he said, replying to your question with another question.  

You turned over so your back was facing him, partially to give him privacy to undress and partially to avoid his gaze as you spoke. 

“I… I do not know you as I once did,” you murmured. 

“Hm,” he hummed in discontent as he laid beside you. 

“Though we grew apart, I would never wish you ill,” he said finally. 

“Grew apart?” you scoffed. 

He sighed. 

“Your former betrothed had already sworn himself to my sister. The plan is to end your prior engagement and wed you to an ally of my brother. That way your father’s arm is twisted into remaining our ally rather than switching sides in this impending war,” he said. 

The silence after he spoke felt heavy. The only sounds were the pouring rain as it beat against your small hiding place and your heartbeat as it pounded. 

Finally you spoke slowly, “I was right before. This truly is the worst kidnapping I’ve ever been a part of.” 

A huff of hair fell past his lips, it almost sounded like a laugh. 

“It was Aegon’s plan and nothing I attempted to counsel could dissuade him,” he said. 

“My father will be furious,” you said, your voice shaky as shivers wracked your body. Even under the blanket, the cold felt inescapable. 

“Less so if you are agreeable to your new betrothed,” he murmured. 

You suddenly felt the heat of him against your back and squeaked in surprise as he wrapped a strong arm around your waist and pulled you against him. 

“Hush. I cannot possibly sleep with your teeth clattering so loudly as you shiver,” he said haughtily. 

You were stiff for a moment but too quickly felt yourself relax and melt into his body and the warmth he provided. 

You could not even be angry with him, for you were far too comfortable. 

“Who is to be my new betrothed?” you asked quietly, after a few moments of silence. 

You waited for his response. 

Finally he said, “I do not know.” 

You weren’t quite certain if you believed him, but exhaustion weighed heavy upon you and wrapped in his warmth you were swiftly pulled into unconsciousness. 

_______________

You were floating, for now, though you began to fear as water rose and rose around you. Then you were flailing as a hand wrapped around your ankle and attempted to pull you down. 

You fought your hardest, but you were powerless against the strength of that hand. 

You ran out of air and attempted to breathe, but choked on salty water, and attempted to scream but no sounds came out. 

You were being pulled into inky depths until fire surrounded you, turning the water into mist and you could breathe, you could breathe in deep as hot dry air that filled your lungs. 

The fire twirled, danced around you and burned the hand that attempted to drown you. 

You were free, and as you sobbed in relief, the fire licked at your cheek, never burning - never hurting, and dried the tears on your cheeks. 

A voice murmured your name, and so you reached a hand for that voice, up and away from the dark murky water. 

“We need to go,” Aemond said, his voice urgent as he shook your shoulder. 

You groaned and attempted to pull the blanket over your head, but it was tugged from your grip. 

You opened one eye and found the object of your ire as he knelt beside you, staring at you with one eyebrow up, judgment clear on his face. 

“You really are a horribly deep sleeper, it is near impossible to wake you, it is no wonder you were so easily captured,” he mused then stood and pulled the blanket completely off you. 

“Asshole” you seethed as you yanked down your shirt where it had rucked up enough to show your underclothes. 

He winked at you as he turned around to give you the privacy to redress. You clenched your teeth in anger as you held back your retort. 

You groaned internally as you realized it was still raining. It was certainly no longer storming as it had been only hours before, if your level of exhaustion was any indication, but it still rained rather heavily. 

You were in for what would certainly be another miserable day if your pounding head and Aemond’s chipper attitude were any indication. 

You swiftly pulled on your pants, boots, and cloak and trudged back into the rain. 

_______________

The rain slowed and stopped sometime early in the morning. 

The conversation between you and Aemond did the same after one too many snippy comments from you. And also him. The tension was rather strong. 

It had been so long that there was anger and hurt feelings between the two of you that you hardly remembered the love and friendship that was once there. 

No, that was a lie. It haunted you. There was a reason you had been unable to stand his presence for years without nearly biting his head off. 

When you were children he had been your best friend, your childhood crush, your biggest ally and confidant. Until all of that love turned into hurt feelings and resentment. 

You had entirely too much time this morning to ruminate on the past, and the thought occurred to you that maybe you should discuss it with him and attempt to put it behind you. 

You turned and looked back at him. 

It frustrated you endlessly that a part of you that you had attempted to squash for years was attracted to him. 

It was not lost on you that the boy you grew up with had become a dashing, lethal warrior. 

With his sharp cheekbones and jawline and curved lips that were entirely too distracting…

“Why are you staring at me?” he asked dryly. 

You huffed and turned back around. 

This adventure had, to your utter dismay, softened your feelings towards the man who sat behind you, pressed against you, his long silver hair blowing around the two of you in the wind. 

“Nothing,” you muttered. 

You knew if you looked back you would see a smirk on his perfect lips and it ignited your anger once again. 

You let silence fall and couldn’t find the courage within you to share your thoughts and feelings. 

_______________

“Do you plan to stop any time today?” you complained. 

“Surely you- shit,” he cut himself off and cursed as he snapped the reins and urged the horse to speed from a walk into a gallop. 

He yanked his hood over his head. 

“What is it?” you asked as you craned your head to see around his body. 

“Shit,” you echoed him. 

A group of about ten men on horses had rounded the hidden curve of the path behind the two of you. 

“Do you think those are the suspicious assholes from before?” you asked worriedly. 

Aemond pursed his lips into a thin line as he nodded stiffly. 

“We can’t outrun them, not with two people on one horse,” he said. 

“D-do we fight? I can’t fight. Oh my gods, Aemond you’re ruining my life. I should be married to a boring old man right now, not running for my life with my worst enemy-”

“Quiet, we are not going to fight, you ridiculous woman. We are going to act normal and do our best to talk our way out of this situation,” he said calmly as the men sped their horses and closed in on the two of you. 

One man, the same man who didn’t stop staring at you the last time you saw him, led his horse directly in your path, causing Aemond to yank the reins of his horse. 

The horse skidded to a stop abruptly and you gripped Aemond’s hand as your heart began to gallop in fear. 

“Well hello again,” the man said with an all too knowing smile. 

You gulped. 

“Hello there, what a pleasant surprise to see you again,” Aemond replied. 

The men chuckled darkly and you shivered. 

Aemond placed a hand on your thigh and stroked his thumb back and forth in an effort to reassure you. 

“It certainly is a truly pleasant surprise,” one of the men practically purred. 

“Well, perhaps we can schedule a third meeting, but otherwise my wife and I have to get going,” Aemond said. 

“Your wife, huh? I mentioned she looked familiar, didn’t I?”

“Hm,” Aemond hummed noncommittally. 

You began to feel queasy and perhaps slightly lightheaded. 

“Well, now there’s a ransom out for a runaway bride. The description matches your wife exactly.” 

Your breaths became shallow as the men leered at you. 

Aemond chuckled in a way that made him appear completely unconcerned. 

“I am sorry to inform you that my wife and I have been married for years, so you must be mistaken,” he replied. 

“Really? Because I think we would’ve heard if a Targaryen got married. Isn’t that right, Prince Aemond?,” the dark haired man said. 

Your heart dropped into your stomach. 

Shit. Shit. Shit. 

You wish you were better at this. 

Say something. Say anything, you screamed at yourself. 

You were frozen, you were frozen, and you clung to Aemond’s hand as your only lifeline in your fear. 

Good gods, you were tired of being afraid. It wasn’t just the cold terror you were experiencing. No, dread and fear had been a part of your life ever since Aemond had walked out of it when you were young. You feared rejection, your duties in life, your future. 

So you made a decision right then and there, with tears pooling in your eyes, that you would never be afraid again. 

You would fight, you would become a fighter, a warrior, whatever it took. Starting here and now. 

“What do you want from us?” you asked sharply. 

The men laughed once again and instead of fear slicing through you, it was anger. 

“Well we would like a payday, pretty lady,” one of the men from the back said and they all gave you predators smiles. 

“And I would like to go one day without a man being an absolute prick,” you snapped back. 

The men’s faces hardened. 

“Perhaps we could come to some sort of arrangement,” Aemond said and he gripped your waist. 

“How about we capture you and sell you for ransom?” the man teased back. 

“Not fucking again,” you said with gritted teeth. 

You reached behind you and slowly pulled Aemond’s dagger out of the sheath at his waist. 

His fingers brushed yours, but he didn’t stop you. 

You weren’t certain what his plan contained, surely he had one, but you were sick of waiting. 

Particularly after the men laughed in a way that made your skin crawl. 

“She’s got a mouth on her. I like that,” one of the men said. 

The knife flew from your hand and buried itself in the chest of the man blocking the path. 

“Shit,” Aemond hissed as he snapped the reins and the horse launched herself forward. 

The man slid off his horse with a thud, the horse neighed loudly in a panic and rose on its hind legs but you, Aemond, and your horse were already passing by. 

The other men stared in shock which gave your horse enough time to get past the group of harassers. 

Then the shouting began. 

Aemond pulled out his sword as he shouted, “Take the reins!” 

You did as he ordered and snapped them once more, the horse was now galloping at top speed. 

You knew it wouldn’t be enough. 

There was a clearing in the trees up ahead and as you saw a large shadow over it you looked back at Aemond, eyes widened in a silent question. 

He nodded and you threw up a prayer to any gods listening that the two of you would make it. 

His sword clashed with a man who caught up to the two of you. 

You yanked another knife out of the saddle bag and turned just in time to see another man catching up with his sword out and pointing at you. 

You aimed and let the dagger fly from your hand and watched it reach its mark directly between the attacker’s eyes. 

You gasped a sigh of relief at the same time Aemond gutted the other man. 

The clearing in the trees was closer. 

“Do you have any more daggers?” you asked.

“No,” he said through gritted teeth as he engaged in another sword fight. 

The wind tore at you as the horse raced at a breakneck speed. 

Finally, just as the other men were nearly caught up and Aemond felled another foe, you reached the break in the trees and your horse sprinted through the clearing. As soon as you were clear, Vhagar appeared to fall from the sky with an ear shattering roar as she landed between you and your pursuers, crushing a few of them.

The ground shook hard enough that your teeth clattered and you tightened your grip on your horse. 

“Dracarys Vhagar!” Aemond yelled. 

Her roar turned into flame hot enough to turn your tormentors into ashes and you gasped in relief, a few tears slipping from your eyes.

You led the horse to slow and stopped and stared at Vhagar with wide eyes, both fearful and in awe. 

Aemond slid off the horse before he helped you as well.

“Are you alright?” Aemond asked worriedly as he pulled you into his arms. 

You allowed yourself to sink into his embrace for a count of five before you pulled away and pointed a finger in his face. 

“I’m not done fighting. I am incredibly angry with you,” you said strongly. 

He blinked in surprise. 

“For capturing you and getting you into this situation?” he asked cautiously. 

“No,” you said with a dismissive wave of the hand, “I’m over that. I think my actions have shown that.” 

He raised his eyebrow at you, his only show of confusion. 

“I’m angry at you for abandoning me,” you said heatedly as your breathing quickened and your eyes stung with tears. 

“What?” he asked, his tone suddenly flat. 

“You decided that obtaining a dragon meant you no longer had to concern yourself with the likes of those below you. And that is fuc-”

“That’s your version of the story?” he chuckled spitefully. 

He leaned down so his gorgeous face was closer to yours. 

“High talk for someone who was disgusted at being associated with a cripple,” he said, his lip curled in anger and his teeth clenched. 

“What?” it was your turn to ask. 

“Don’t lie to me,” he said, his anger becoming something vicious. 

“I wouldn’t. I would never-” 

“Aegon told me! He heard you talking to one of the other noble children and-” 

“He lied! Your brother is a lying piece of shit!” 

You were both breathing heavily, your faces merely inches apart. 

“I…. He lied?” he asked. 

“Yes, you asshole,” you seethed. 

He licked his lips as he stared at you thoughtfully, the anger deflating from his face. 

“I would never drop you just because I got a dragon, you were my closest and most cherished friend,” he said. 

“And you were mine,” you admitted. “That’s why I was so angry and rude to you… which I regret.”

“I find myself full of feelings of regret as well. I was unaware of your side of the story,” he said softly. 

“All that time wasted,” you said. 

“Hm,” he hummed in agreement. 

His face was still close to yours. There was a heat between the two of you that had not dissipated just because the anger was gone. Then you remembered your agreement with yourself. 

You took a deep breath, “I don’t plan on wasting any more time. I’ve lived my life in fear for far too long. Fear of being rejected, fear of becoming too attached to anyone else, fear of fulfilling my duty, and fear of the consequences of not fulfilling it. Fear of my own feelings, my own wants. But not anymore. I’ll face whatever the future and duty expects of me but today….” 

“Today?” he prompted as he glanced down at your lips, then met your gaze once more. 

“Today I am going to act on my feelings and desires for once and face the consequences later.” you said as you placed a hand on his chest. 

“And what are your desires?” he practically purred as he cupped your cheek with his hand. 

“Kiss me,” you breathed out. 

His lips pressed into yours, and it wasn’t a slow gentle kiss like you had always imagined your first kiss with Aemond to be, no it was fiery and all consuming. As his lips moved against yours you did what you had always wanted to do, and tangled your fingers in his silken white hair. 

He groaned softly as you tightened your grip and he hauled you impossibly closer against the hard planes of his body. 

At the brush of his tongue against yours, you whimpered with desire. 

A shiver went all the way down your spine and your toes curled as he consumed you. 

Vhagar roared and you pulled back from him with a laugh. His crooked smile melted your heart and he nudged his nose against yours and kissed you once more, softly and sweetly. 

As he pulled back you grinned at him. 

He didn’t release you from his embrace, which you were grateful for. But, he did take a deep breath as he stared deeply into your eyes. 

“I must tell you that I was not completely honest with you before,” he said, his voice low and vulnerable. 

“About what?” you asked carefully. 

“I do know who my brother intends to betroth you to,” he replied. 

You scrunched your eyebrows in confusion, wordlessly asking him to explain, even as you extricated yourself from his grasp and crossed your arms. 

He pressed his lips together. 

“You are to marry me,” he said finally. 

“What?” you gasped. 

To be continued....

[myfandomrealitea]

I cannot stress this enough:

BUILDING COMMUNITY AND ENGAGEMENT ON TUMBLR IS A TWO-WAY STREET.

Stuck for ideas? Try:

Send asks. It could be anything, even something super basic. Tell someone you like their blog theme or ask them what they think a character's favorite color is. Ask them if they have a secret hobby. Tell them you had an absolute banger of a slice of toast for breakfast. Literally anything. Give them something to talk to you about. You might even make a friend!!

Draw silly little doodles for your favorite piece of fanfic. Literally cannot stress this enough; even stick men art can be adorable and/or hilarious. And I guarantee you it'll make the author's day. A two minute sketch on the notepad app of your phone could genuinely be the reason someone updates their fic, or writes another one.

Write silly little drabbles for your favorite fanart. I used to love this back when I made fanart on my old Tumblr blog. People would reblog it with a silly little 100 word drabble based on the art and I. Would. Swoon. My thing made someone else make a thing!! Amazing!!

Make rec lists. It could be for fanfiction, themed blogs to follow, recipes, movies, anything. Ask people to share theirs. Ask people to give their opinions if they try out something from your list. You wouldn't believe how many of my fanfic bookmarks have come from seeing the blogs I follow recommend something. Because we have the same interests!! Because its even quicker than me scouring hundreds of tags on AO3!!

If someone posts writing or art, ask them questions!! Humans love to be asked things. Especially about things we have made. Ask them what inspired them to make the thing. How long it took them. If they have a favorite thing about it.

Tumblr's engagement and activity levels are not dying because of the website. They're dying because of us. If we're just sat existing in a sad, isolated little bubble, of course we're going to move on to somewhere where we get actual engagement. Where there are other people in the bubble.

We've become so obsessed with an entitlement to receiving and consuming while never actually giving anything back, and that has to die.

"Oh but there's no community for what I like on here."

Make. One.

Tell people about the thing you like. Get them interested. Engage with them about it. Give them a sounding board to share their thoughts and ask questions and create content to enjoy and consume. Make it a discussion and give them something to get involved in.

Find that one other tiny blog screaming into the void about it and scream together!! That's how this website works!!

[barrenclan]

I think that cormorantpaw is just father by the front bottoms but turned into a bisexual cat

I mean, that's not inaccurate.

I have this dream that I am hitting my dad with a baseball bat And he is screaming and crying for help And maybe halfway through, it has more to do with me killing him Then it ever did protecting myself

As soon as I come, you will probably forget my name I hope I fall asleep at the wheel and crash my car on the ride home Or I could just stay here

Haha, a Spongebob song. I worked that show last summer so I've heard these songs a lot. I like the idea, though!

Stay away from the future (Stay away... stay away from the future) (The end is coming, the end is coming!) No point in making plans (No point in making plans) It's all deranged (The end is coming, the end is coming!) (It's all deranged...) No control (No control...) (The end is coming, the end is coming! The end. is. coming!)

It doesn't seem to have been! The music tag is quite long at this point so it's pretty hard to find old songs.

When life loses meaning, there doesn't need to be a reason There doesn't need to be a reason, there doesn't need to be a reason

When you're stuck in this position It's like training for the wrong conditions You've been training for the wrong conditions

Aw gosh, that makes me a little bit sad. Beautiful song, though. I can hear her as a good voice claim for Slugpelt, too.

Any place is better Starting from zero, got nothing to lose Maybe we'll make something Me, myself, I got nothing to prove

You got a fast car I got a plan to get us out of here I been working at the convenience store Managed to save just a little bit of money Won't have to drive too far Just 'cross the border and into the city You and I can both get jobs And finally see what it means to be living

Thanks, I'm glad you like the comic! I'll check out the album.

Ooh, spooky!

Don't cry when lanterns fade Soon we'll be awakened But it breaks my heart to say No one will save you now

Listen closely for your sister's footsteps Lest you fade here all alone I have never seen a night this haunting In these streets of blood and bone

Wow, I'm honored to be the sponsor for your Tumblr account! I like this song for Cormorantpaw.

I was lost Calling out for someone just to come And show me love Teach me how to function as a modern man

Every night talking in my sleep to tell you That I lied and I was just pretending to keep Holding out for someone better

Very cool! And very Rainhaze and Ranger, or maybe early Prowl and Deepdark.

I made a post about this, a long time ago. Here it is:

Yeah, I can see it!

Pulling it up From the wet ground I couldn't stop Had to find out

Picking the scar I know it's the wrong call It won't bring the relief I know that I long for Some things are best left to rot Some things are best left to rot

I'm always taking song recommendations! It's like, at least 30% of my inbox at any given point in time.

Coyote I'm treading water Don't lead me Straight to the slaughter 

He's watching under the silver light  He's stalking now for a time that's right

[imyourbratzdoll]

𝒖𝒏𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒅

this is the more extended version of my unwanted drabble, thank you to @jessybarnes for some of the ideas. I hope you all enjoy.

summary - steve tricked you before kidnapping you, leaving you locked away in the basement as you begin to mess with his mind.

warning - angst, mentions of killing, mentions of sadness, mentions of being trapped.

the gif and headers I use aren't mine.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

“What? You want me to meow or something?” 

Steve sat there shocked, staring at you with wonder. It’s as if you had no care and weren’t freaking out like others. He stares into your eyes, seeing nothing there, and his head tilts as he looks at you. “No..?” He looks confused, wondering. “How do you feel?” 

“I don’t.” You state, turning your head back to the wall and staring at it. You miss how his eyebrows shoot up. “So… When are you going to kill me?” You pick at your nails, continuing to feel stupid for thinking someone like him would actually want you. You turn your head when you don’t hear a response and tilt your head as he stares at you, confused. “That’s why you tricked me, right? To kill me, you didn’t exactly pretend to like me, drug me, and tie me up in your basement because you’re madly in love with me, and that’s the only way you thought you could get me.” 

“You’re not afraid? Why aren’t you screaming, crying or swearing at me?” He’s so confused, getting closer to you, kneeling before you as he looks into your eyes. “Why is there nothing? You’re so empty.” 

You blink, staring at him blankly. “If you don’t mind, ‘Steve’. I would like not to talk and for you to just get to the point.” You move away from him, crawling up the bed and lying on your back as you stare at the ceiling. “I’ll be here… Waiting patiently for my death. Not like I have anywhere to go.” 

You let out a sigh when he left the room, one side of your mind begging for him to stay and the other staying quiet. You couldn’t let yourself fall for his stupid face again, and you didn’t want to beg someone to love you. You wanted that to come naturally. But you don’t think that will ever happen because… You were you, and people didn’t like what they saw.

Steve was curious, and you were like a puzzle to him. He had never met anyone so void of emotion and missed the woman he met. You seemed so happy and carefree, sure. He did notice that you were more closed off and didn’t seem to let him so close. He wanted to change that. He needed some sort of reaction, some sort of emotion. How can you be so calm during all this? Steve left you alone for a while, barely acknowledging the other women locked up, barely acknowledging his wife and kids, or the women he promised dates to. You were occupying his mind, and it was driving him crazy. He had destroyed most of the upstairs, trying anything to get you out of his head. He couldn’t take it. The look in your eyes, your words, it was all getting to him.

Steve remembered your dates and how you told him about the books you used to write. He recalled that you said it was the only thing that made you genuinely feel something, and an idea sparked. Steve gathered a notebook, some pens, and some food and water before making his way down to the basement. He knocks on the door before sliding it open and smiling at you. “I brought you something that I think you’ll enjoy.” You continue to stare at the wall, your eyes tired. Steve sighs, softly walking over and placing the items before you. “I’m trusting you with these pens, but if you do something—”

“You’ll what? Kill me?” You scoff, eyes slowly moving to connect with his. “That was already your plan, and this would make the killing go faster.” You roll your eyes, barely looking at the things he placed before you. “Did you need anything else? Because I’d rather you just hurry this along.” Your head turns again, ignoring him because what was the point of giving him any more attention? 

“Why are you behaving like this? I bought you some of the things I remember you talked about. You should at least feel happy?” Your head falls back as you let out a laugh, startling Steve, who stares at you as if you’ve grown three heads. “What? What’s so funny?!” Why wouldn’t you just submit?! Why were you so different from the others?! It bewildered Steve how you could sit so emotionless and then laugh as if he had said something funny.

“You. Do you think giving me a notebook and pens would suddenly make me happy? Did you not stop to think that you are the problem? I have already come to terms with the fact that no one will ever love me, that you only pretended so you could kidnap me and kill me. So why aren’t you killing me?! Why are you taking your sweet time?!” You snap, struggling against the chains as you stand and move toward Steve, punching his chest. “Kill me! Kill me, goddammit!” You scream, your eyes are still emotionless, yet your words hold so much power.

Steve holds your wrists, stopping you from hitting him. He stares down at you, wondering why his heart clenches like this. “No.” He moves away, needing to get out of this room and get away from you as you make his head fuzzy. He watches as you stare at him in disbelief.

“So, what… I’m not good enough to love and not good enough to kill either?” You sink back onto the bed, your eyes staring at the wall as you realise you will never be good enough for anything or anyone. Steve quickly leaves the room, going through the house, destroying more things on the way. How could you get into his head like this? No one else had done it, so why were you so different?

You sat there, staring at the untouched notebook before slowly reaching for it, and as you grabbed the pen, the words began to flow out of you and onto the page. Everything you felt deep inside was coming out through stories. Not feeling in the mood to eat or drink, you spend most of the day and night writing. As many more days pass, Steve comes in and out with more gifts and food. You continued to ignore him, not knowing how to react, waiting for him to decide when it was your time to die finally. But the day never came. You think a month had passed, but you weren’t so sure. Steve walked into your room, undoing the chains and holding out his hand. “C’mon. I’ve prepared us some dinner.” You stare at him warily before slowly standing and following him. He leads you to the kitchen and pulls out the chair for you. 

“Why am I out here?” You sit, tapping the table, watching him place the food onto the plates, not daring to touch it as Steve sits across from you. 

“I’ve come to realise something, and at first, it scared me. You’re different from the rest.” You scoff, rolling your eyes. “I’m serious. Do you know how confusing this is for me? You’ve taken over my mind, and I can’t focus on anything else.” 

“Oh, I’m so sorry that I’ve stopped you from tricking other women into believing you love them.” Your eyes roll again, leaning back into the chair. “Do you need a tissue?” You pick up the napkin beside your plate, offering it out to him.

Steve stares at you blankly, his eye twitching as he’s stuck between wanting to strangle you and make love to you. “No, I do not need a tissue. I’m trying to tell you that I feel something for you.” He’s startled again as you laugh.

“You feel something for me?” You feel tears prick your eyes as you continue to laugh. “Oh, god. That’s probably the funniest thing I’ve heard. I think you are delusional.” You shake your head, and your laughter slowly dies down. Your eyes connect with him, and you stare. “You’ve already got me here. You don’t need to keep lying to make yourself feel better.” You continue to tap on the table. “So… When am I going to die?” 

“You aren’t. I’m keeping you alive.”

“Oh, great. Fantastic. Sounds so fun to be alive and kept locked away in a basement for the rest of my life. Good plan.” You give a little clap and throw him a fake smile. But deep down, your stomach twisted, and your heart dropped. This was worse than waiting to die. Now you would be locked away, unloved, and eventually wither away. Your expression on the outside stayed void of any emotion. 

“No, you will stay up here. With me.” 

You wished you had never even gone to that stupid market. You wished you had never believed Steve’s stupid words or smile. How could you be so stupid to believe someone would ever choose you?

You were unwanted.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[charmedreincarnation]

My main focus right now is tapping into the void, and a few people just made a post about how to use states to become a void master, but I guess I’m failing to grasp the concept of feeling something when you’ve never felt it before. To me it’s like someone saying: Feel what it would feel like to cut your leg off even though you have never felt that before. How?

When you have stuff thrown in your face in your 3D that is very unwanted and serious, how do you practice relaxation and feeling free of all your burdens?

How do you get into the state of the wish fulfilled if you constantly have things in your physical world that are screaming for your attention?

I 100% know manifestation is real, and I 100% know the void is real, I just want something to click for me because so far, it hasn’t. And I consider myself a pretty smart person lol, I guess I just want encouragement idk

I understand how challenging it can be to stay in the state of a wish fulfilled, especially when you are surrounded by distractions that are screaming for your attention. In today’s world, there are so many external factors vying for our attention, making it difficult to take the time to practice relaxation and to achieve the freedom from our burdens that we all so desperately need.

Some general basic tips I always encourage no matter the situation is for starters Try to start with basic breathing exercises or mindfulness techniques. These can help to calm your mind, allowing you to focus on being present and open to the possibilities. As you become more aware of your thoughts and emotions, it’s important to practice self-compassion. Acknowledge and accept the emotions you feel without judgment or criticism. Remind yourself that these emotions are normal and not indicative of any lack of power on your part.

Another powerful way to get into the state of the wish fulfilled is through visualization. Visualize yourself achieving your goals, picturing with detail how it looks and feels when it’s finally all achieved.

Finally, find a healthy, supportive tribe that can help keep you accountable and motivated to maintain the state of the wish fulfilled. Tumblr is a start but always try to Surround yourself with people who lift you up and can offer guidance when needed.

I’m also going to share some Neville Goddard quotes that deeply resonated with me.

“Put yourself in the state of mind in which you have already attained your desire, live in its attainment.” Keeping a positive mindset is essential when aiming for big changes, as it will help you keep sight of the goal even when times get tough. It helps you to see life as if you have already achieved it.

“Imagination is the creative force of the universe. To create you must be able to picture the thing desired in your mind.” Imagination is crucial for the fruition of something desired. It helps you to become mentally aware of what it is you want and how to go about attaining it.

“Your inner confidence and ability to believe will bring about miraculous results. Dream lofty dreams and as you dream, so shall you become.” Having faith in yourself and believing that what you are working towards is achievable will bring great results. It will give you strength to keep going and faith that in the end you will have what you desire.

“Wishful thinking is powerful and can shape our reality. If we wish strongly enough, our wishes will become reality.” Literally Knowing that your wishes can shape reality is a powerful concept, and one that shouldn’t be taken lightly. When we feel the weight of our wishes, we understand the power we possess to bring about change in our lives and those around us.

, “Always stand strong in the assurance that completing your desire is inevitable. Act as though you have already got what you want. Make it real in your mind first, and then it shall be real in your outer life.” Believing that something is inevitable helps us to stay focused on our goals, and to never give up even when it’s hard. Knowing that if we make it real in our minds, our desired outcome will manifest in our outer lives, is incredibly motivating.

But it's important to keep in mind that the Void is accessible to all of us, no matter what our prior experience may be. The trick is to shift your perspective and open your mind to something that is beyond the 3-dimensional space we inhabit. It requires a certain level of detachment from the physical world, and a willingness to explore the unknown. Ultimately, mastering the Void is all about learning to trust yourself and your intuition, and allowing yourself to explore the depths within. By tapping into these deep states of being, we can access inner peace that may otherwise be inaccessible in our current realm. So it doesn’t really matter what I say or anyone you seek guidance says, because at the end of the day it’s within you and once you access it, it’s really because you let go.

I also want to emphasize this part of the question “I’m failing to grasp the concept of feeling something when you’ve never felt it before. To me it’s like someone saying: Feel what it would feel like to cut your leg off even though you have never felt that before. How?” I think it’s a great concern but you’re overthinking it.

Imagine you're in a forest. You're walking along, observing the beauty of the trees, plants and creatures around you. Then suddenly, you come across a clearing. In the center of this clearing is a lake. The lake is inviting and reflective. You can see yourself in the lake, and as you look closer, you notice something else—a key floating on its surface.

The key is a representation of your desire. It's been there all along but you just hadn't noticed it. You become excited and want to reach out and grab the key. However, if you've never actually reached out and felt your desire before, it may seem impossible or pushed away.

To help envision how to grab and feel what you desire, try to imagine that there is an invisible force field around the key. You can't see it, but you can sense it. You want to reach out and grab the key, but this invisible force is holding you back from doing so. To break through this barrier, you must take action, no matter how small. Take a few steps closer and break through this invisible barrier by actually reaching out your hand and taking the key.

The feeling of grasping the key in your hands is a representation of how it feels when you reach out and feel your desires. When you have taken the key in your hands, it is a tangible proof that you can indeed make your desires come true.

We can use this same analogy to understand that reaching out and feeling our desires requires us take action, (accepting it is ours no matter what l!) just as we had to take action to break through the invisible barrier in order to get the key. Sometimes, taking that first step is the hardest part, but it's worth it when the result is feeling our desire from within and having the tangible proof that we can make our dreams into reality.

I can type up as many paragraphs and analogies as possible but seriously nothing compares to your inborn power I’m begging you to recognize. We can only get so much encouragement and motivation from others until it just becomes over consumption and counter intuitive.

[bfpnola]

image description under the cut

when i was 12, i was ambitious. a heart of gold, in the words of earth, wind & fire, i truly believed that nothing could stop me so long as i gave it my all. no obstacle was too large, no goal was too distant. now, at 20, my dreams are shattered in many ways. yet in many ways i am still grateful (and i am aware that i have so much left to live). i owe it to the family i have created to tell this complex truth over a neatly told lie:

for the nearly 8 years that better future program, inc. (bfp) has existed, i have run it almost entirely alone. each time that we gained momentum, it was as though the narrow visions of others dragged us right back to the depths of the void. and i was the one always left to pick up the pieces. you see, for nearly 8 years, i fought and cried, chased and fell, lived and died. but it was through my struggles that i made lifelong friends to kiss the very scars this organization has graced me with. i will always hold a place in my heart for the volunteers who showed up, who bleed alongside me as these words rip into our spirits.

you see, i am writing this because i am a changed person. called every name in the book right down to ngger whore*, something about my soul is hurting. my children and i, my wonderful children, have spent 8 years begging our white peers to care. it does something to you… to look into someone’s eyes, to say that you feel as though you could die, that the world has cursed you with this endless sense of urgency, and for them to only center their themselves whiteness in the end. even in the home we had created, we could not escape white supremacy. i refuse to sugarcoat just how heartbreaking a revelation this was. in the words of one of our truest and most gentle-hearted allies, internally, we had become parasitic, only existing to serve the needs and wants of our white members. and of course, we were disposable. when cycles of harm were disrupted, they left us without a single word of remorse.

my children and i, we are a broken people. torn from our homes, our hearts cracked open, we are a people whose throats are hoarse from screaming, who eyes flood like the mississippi river, whose soles are calloused from chasing after dreams (after humanization) across red-hot coal. we are burnt out.

so where does this leave us? what does any of this mean? crucial details highlighted below:

better future program, inc. (bfp) is changing. our nonprofit status will remain. but our volunteer positions will not. our liberation library will remain. but our discord server will not. we will no longer accept donations. our current funds will be redistributed through mutual aid networks. our 3,000 free resources will still be available. but our capacity for material change has truly been diminished. we hope to continue to provide marginalized youth with educational materials for as long as we possibly can. and so we will do so, for as long as we possibly can.

you see, my children and i, we are a resilient people. borne of slave ships and reservations, occupation and colonization, abuse and grief, we are survivors. our hands grasp one another’s tightly so that we may never lose each other in this world. we have held hands since before we ever even met. as we venture back out into our local communities, we will never stop being intentional in our relationships (in fact, we already have a new project in the works so that may stick together). better future program, inc. (bfp) has still given us so much. and for that we will always be grateful.

if you have any further questions, which i imagine you might, feel free reach out through info@betterfutureprogram.org, instagram (@bfpnola), or tumblr (@bfpnola), as these socials will remain available.

thank you so much for supporting us for as long as you have. it’s time we take a new path.

sincerely,

reaux (she/they)

founding executive director

[allycat75]

Just a reminder of why I am here, lest you think I actually believe a certain Dumb Fuck from Boston is actually reading this blog.

In case it wasn't obvious, addressing specific posts to a particular person is but a literary device (such that it is on Tumblr). This blog is a way for me to scream into a void and if you don't like what I have to say, please respectfully leave and try to refrain from misrepresenting me on other blogs. I may not be your cup of tea, but I will not be minimized.

What I am screaming into the void about:

Mr. Dumb Fuck roped us all into this by trying to convince us he is stunningly happy in a relationship when it is obvious to almost anyone he is not (and if he is, he has to be the most toxic boyfriend/hubby ever). He even tried to help his cause by doing a bad job on purpose, but that act to save himself came crashing down on those who called out the Emperor who had no clothes, hard. Because when we pointed out the many obvious inconsistencies, we were branded as crazy, stupid and jealous. Then there is the gaslighting with changing timelines, photoshopped pictures, ghost sightings/weddings, poorly acted jump scares and general mindfuckery. He can't now un-invite us to the party because he doesn't like what we are saying. We will defend ourselves from lies and manipulation and not accept the negative labels thrust upon us. Too often, women are dismissed for being irrational and this stunt highlights the incredibly antiquated and misogynist trope.

The little wifey is an awful person and by tying himself to her like this he tacitly provides his approval to her racism, antisemitism, fatshaming, arrogance, immaturity, clout-chasing and entitlement, forever. That hypocrisy cannot go unnoticed considering his former stance on these subjects and his role as the face of the insipid ASP. I am a member of a few of the groups the wifey and her crew target so no one gets to tell me I am taking this too seriously or I am being too sensitive. As Secretary of Education Miguel Cardona discussed during a recent talk on an unimportant, ego stroking website, passiveness normalizes destructive behaviors and beliefs toward marginalized communities, at a time when we in those communities feel unseen or unprotected.

The fact that he looks absolutely miserable, with no light in his eyes, and discusses his life as if it is not his own is more than a little unnerving. This is in no way to shame him, but rather out of a genuine concern for his wellbeing. If I were to encounter someone on the street acting like he did as described in the near career ending GQ article, I would be compelled to call someone to assist this man in distress. And I don't buy the excuse of "he's just tired" or "he is working hard".  He is running from who he has become and doesn't know where to go.  These posts are a way for me to work out frustration of not being able to help someone who is in clear need of it.  And yeah, maybe it is none of my business, but just as if I ran into the GQ version of him on the street, I couldn't just stand by and do nothing. 

This circus also shows how his behavior parallels the issues of the world at large and how we accept things we shouldn't. We have kept quiet about unchecked privlege, intent vs. impact, performative activism, being child-like vs. childish, ageism, greed and corruption, mental illness and wellness, self awareness, the power and weaponry of sexuality, toxic masculinity and misogyny, generational wealth, integrity, alternative facts and emotional truths, misinformation and disinformation, imbalance of power, value placed on hard work, attributes of healthy relationships, preciousness of time, and the effects we have on our fellow mortals, all of which has got us to now, on the brink of societal destruction. And we see this epitomized in the microcosm of this shitshow. I use this blog and the unlikely, fucked up muse that inspired it to think about how we all cultivate our points of view and perhaps pressure test what they really mean to us and how we express them in our daily lives. Others who find my blog may feel lost and alone, as we all do at times, in need of some comfort or inspiration. While the quotes, infographics and articles may be very pointed, they are there for everyone to enjoy and interpret. The Song of the Day, however, is purely about me and what I woke up singing or feeling. Nothing to do with BDF, but still for everyone to appreciate.

So that's about it. I hope you have more clarity about what I am trying to accomplish and again, if you wish to be negative, you can see yourself out. Thank you! 👋

[thefrogdalorian]

Hello! 

You may (or may not... I don't like to presume) have noticed my little break from posting. I just wanted to share something in case anyone was worried about me and assure you there is no need to be :) 

There isn't really one reason for why I've been on hiatus, but I guess a collection of things. 

I was really poorly with covid but thankfully I'm feeling a lot better now! But being so sick and stuck in I guess made me reevaluate certain things. 

Since recovering I got to see a lot of people I really adore with my whole heart, as well as being lucky enough to experience so many things I love with them.

And it made me realise what truly makes me happy in life. I suppose it really put things into perspective for me. I'm thinking more and more that tumblr (and being online generally) is something which unfortunately does not spark joy any longer. 

To be honest, (as I'm sure many people who were given far too much unsupervised access to the internet at a young age also do), I have a complicated relationship with social media. It doesn't make me feel good most of the time. I don't know how to handle some of the things I read and some of the things people have said to me. And just like I do irl, if the vibes feel off, I usually retreat into my shell to regroup. 

While I have made so many friends over the years of being chronically online and spoken to plenty of great people, I can feel myself getting drained again. And I really haven't missed it during the time I've been away.

I've filled my time with a lot of reading (I read Pride and Prejudice THREE times... doing amazingly), some writing and lots of long walks in nature. It's been really good for me!

As a result, right now, I just don't feel like continuing to post on this blog.

This decision wasn't caused by anyone or anything in particular. But when I've made my mind up about something, it's pretty impossible to change it. I've been mulling it over for a few days and my heart is telling me to go.

Anyway, I'm going to continue working on my WIPs and most likely continue posting them to AO3. It's by far the least social media-ish platform out there, and I really like posting on it. 

I need to take a step back to remember why I started writing, which was really as a way to get emotions out and to scream into the void a little. I don't enjoy sharing my work on tumblr, I kind of felt like I had to rather than genuinely wanting to. 

Truthfully, I just want to create and consume others' work in peace. I don't want to feel like I need to market my writing or whatever or compare myself to others. As much as I try not to, I think it's only human nature. 

So, I guess I'm really making this post to say I'll be going on a hiatus from tumblr. But I don't intend to stop writing or posting to AO3 and I hope to see you over there! 

I have no idea how long I'll be away for. Who knows... when winter comes around and my seasonal depression returns, or perhaps there is a major Mando update, maybe I'll return! 

For now, all there's left to say is how much of a pleasure it was posting about Mando and talking with you lot all these months. 

If anyone (mutual or otherwise) would like to keep in touch, feel free to message me for my discord! I'd be happy to continue chatting to you on there.

For me, in the headspace I'm currently in, one on one conversation is far less intimidating than being perceived by lots of people lol. 

I'll likely drop in at some point soon-ish and check for any of those messages, but until then, it's not a goodbye, but a see you later! 

Please care of yourselves and be kind to others :) 

Love,

Spud 🐸🩷

[buckyarchives]

bedless | bucky barnes.

summary: relapsing wasn’t great, ever. but bucky’s is there.

word count: 2.4k

warnings: SELF HARM. i wrote this as a s/h comfort fic and that’s pretty much all it is. i’m serious if ur triggered by graphic descriptions of self harm please go find a different story.

author note: wrote this A LONG time ago on ao3 and i’m attempting to move all my storys to tumblr. so it’s probably really bad lol. i also wrote this when i was struggling but i’m 6 months clean now!! whoo!

You stare blankly into the distance of your bathroom, your eyes landing on nothing specifically, simply zoning out from the world around you. It was dark besides the blue-tinted night light plugged into the wall across from you. The floor below you was hard and cold, the expensive tile felt like stone under you as your limbs pulled close to your chest, you stayed deadly still. The aftermath ritual of relapsing. Moments ago you were dry heaving, tears streaming down your face as you desperately scratched away at your skin trying to find that small blade hidden away in attempts you'd forget. Your mind was racing so fast that you couldn’t keep track of a single thought for more than a second, and it wouldn't stop. And now, you sit in a weird comfortable peace, face dry of tears and incredibly tired. Your limbs burned from your self-inflicted torture but you couldn't be bothered to focus on it.

Today hadn't been a hard day exactly. Actually, it had been a relatively good week, but these things just creep up on you like that. Ended up with you coming to the alternative that wasn't exactly smart but you trusted it, it has worked before. You ignored Thor calling you down for dinner, it wasn't an unusual thing for an avenger to refuse and miss out. Everyone was dealing with their own shit. You hoped no one would notice your absence. But when have you ever been right before?

Your bathroom door was slightly cracked open, but it was slowly nudged further open as you heard a soft knock at your door. A familiar gruff voice called your name. It was Bucky, Bucky's room was across from yours and you both shared a small kitchen and common area as you two were the only ones on the floor of Starks enormous tower. You suffered from insomnia and he suffered from horrible night terrors that left him screaming awake. So naturally, the two of you found comfort in each other, whether it be sharing a bed for the night or being in each other's presence in the kitchen or living room in the dead of night when neither of you could bear to sleep. Bucky wasn't foreign to your addiction, to him walking in on your aftermath ritual of dissociating on a cold, hard floor.

“Doll?” his voice sounded worried from the other side of the door. You couldn't bear to tear your eyes away from whatever you were staring at, or even muster up a small noise as a response. You didn't move. Nonetheless, he pushed the rest of your door open, and right as he came into view you were void of your trance. Your eyes snapped to him. Bucky stood with his vibranium hand gripping the doorknob, his metal finger wrapped tighter as he processed the sight of you. His eyes were wide and worried, and a wave of terror flashed across his face.

You only bow your head in shame, you couldn’t look at him and see how disgust and disappointment filled his face. Bucky's footsteps ascended towards you, you wanted to yell and push him away and lock the door and never let anyone back in but, you were tired and he was much stronger than you. So you continued to sit still until the flesh warmth of Bucky's hand rose to your face, directing you to look at him. His face showed so many emotions you couldn't begin to suspect what he was feeling. He was just staring into your eyes, those perfect ocean blue eyes. He slowly shook his head disapprovingly.

You blinked, once, twice. Your throat croaked as you attempted to apologize to the man in front of you but nothing came out.

Your eyes diverted down again, you felt on fire under his stare. “Do I need to take you to the med wing?”

He asked this question every time, and you always shot your head up and would rapidly shake your head and beg him not to carry you away to be fixed by an unfamiliar doctor and have to bear the disapproving looks of anyone you saw in the hall. And word gets around fast in the tower to by the end of the night everyone would know of your damage.

“Bucky.” your voice came out hoarse but quick. “Please don't make me go, please.” He just looked back at you, leaving you unanswered. His hand still held steady on your face, he was squatting down to your height. The silence was deafening but as soon as you were about to make up some excuse for your relapse, his hand left your face and the warmth left your body with it making you feel cold and weak once again.

“Same place as last time?’ Bucky asked but it sounded more like a statement than a question as he opened a cabinet and grabbed bandages and your usual stuff to clean the open wounds on your arms.

You didn't usually clean yourself up after, besides just getting water and cleaning up extra blood. All your life you left the scars untreated. You were never sure if you did this as an extra way of torture, letting the sting of the cuts linger longer or because that meant the marks would be more apparent for longer, leaving a reminder for you all the time. The first time Bucky had walked in on you, he ran to bruce's lab and back after you begged and pleaded with him not to take you to the med bay. And he came back with enough bandages to cover your wounds and then by the next day you found a box of bandages and tape as well as hydrogen peroxide to clean your wounds sitting on your bed in a Walgreens bag. A small gesture that weirdly made you want to do it less, but you would never tell Bucky that.

Bucky turned back to you with a bottle and cotton pads in his hands, he sat across from you on the bathroom floor. Your eyes averted away from his face, you couldn't hide the embarrassment on your face, you felt like a little kid that made a mess just for someone else to unrightfully clean it up for you.

“Sweetheart, I need you to look at me.” his soft voice rang through your head, and as much as you didn't want to you obeyed. Your eyes traveled up Bucky's face to meet with his blue eyes, he looked tired and upset and suddenly another way of guilt went through you. “I'm going to clean this up, okay?” he waited patiently for your response, you just nodded tiredly. “This is going to sting, just tell me if it's too much, and I’ll stop.”

Slowly, Bucky grabbed your arm from your lap and he began running the clothes across the wounds. You watched the blood wash away just for it to keep coming up from the lines you created. You bit your lip, you felt like you were going to cry out but you were simply too drained to shed another tear.

“Look at me.” bucky said, “I need you to look at me.”

You tore your eyes away from your wrist and met with his eyes once again. His icy blue eyes that you could get lost in, as cheesy as it sounds, you just genuinely could stare at him all day just to drown in the ocean he had for eyes. Bucky Barnes was an incredibly attractive man, you would not deny that, and almost every person on the planet would agree with you. Women swooned for him left and right in the 40s, as Steve would retell stories of their past life decades ago. But there was truly something so different about him. The shape of his nose and the hollow of his cheeks, his jawline looked like it was sculpted by the gods, and his smile. Oh god, his smile was such a beautiful and rare thing. During the past months of being close, you would sometimes do anything to get a good genuine smile out of him, even if it mean embarrassing yourself in the process.

“You're staring, dear,” Bucky spoke, and you looked down to see your arm had already been wrapped in the white bandages. Damn, had you been staring at him that long?

“You told me to look at you, not my fault.” shrugging your shoulders, beginning to pull your arm back to you but Bucky's grip tightened. Not enough to hurt you but enough just to keep you from pulling away from him. A moment of silence fell between you before he brought your arm up to his lips and he placed a gentle kiss on your bandaged skin. He looked back up to you before shifting his weight so he could lean in and continue to place another kiss on your forehead. The warmth spreads through you and makes you feel lighter and slightly better.

“I'm disappointed in you, doll,” he whispered. you nodded in agreement, knowing he should be. “You need to understand how much this hurts me too, everytime I see you like this, it hurts me so much because I care about you more than you imagine.”

He spoke clearly and genuinely, the words hit you hard in the chest. Making you feel equally better knowing he cared but also worst because you hurt him, one of the things in life you actively attempt to avoid. His eyes turned glossy and he swallowed hard and, suddenly your throat went dry again. You couldn’t speak a word of a response so you just bow your head again, averting eye contact so speaking to bucky would feel less intimidating.

“It has to hurt, it won't stop unless I do this.” you choked out, waterworks started up once again and the tears started streaming. “I'm sorry, buck. I just never know what else to do.”

Bucky grabbed you gently and pulled you into him, feeling his warmth more closely. He shushed you softly and wiped away the tears from your cheek as he placed another kiss on the top of your head. Holding you close to his chest, you would faintly hear his heartbeat over your racing thoughts, bringing you down back to earth as you focused on the beats of his chest. Eventually, you calmed down completely but bucky didn't let you go yet, he still held you close. He was slightly rocking you back and forth as he rubbed your back with his metal arm.

“Can you sit still and be good for a moment? I need to grab something real quick, sweetheart.” he pulled away just far enough so he could see your face. He wiped away whatever tears remained on your face. Bucky gave you a small reassuring smile as you nodded while mumbling a quiet agreement.

And soon enough he got up and the warmth of his body left you again feeling empty and you slumped back into the wall behind you. You felt so drained and limp you could have fallen unconscious right here an now. The quietness of the room felt intimating, it was so easy for you to grow accustomed to Bucky’s presence that it terrified you. You wondered if he would lie and leave and not come back, finally getting fed up with your self-destruction and cleaning up your messes. You wouldn’t blame him for it, leaving you, you didn't believe you deserves an ounce of his care. He was an ex-assassin and struggling to come back from being brainwashed to do horrible things without a choice, while now being in a new time, having to adjust to a new world. He needed to focus on himself and take time to recover. Not take care of you. But as soon as you were about to convince yourself Bucky wasn't coming back and that you did in fact deserved it he came through the bathroom door again, with a bowl in his hands.

You tilt your head, your eyebrows furrowed together in confusion to see a bowl of ice in his hands as he sets it down in between the two of you. bucky sits down next to you and grabs ahold of your unbandaged arm. “If it absolutely has to hurt,” he grabs a couple of cubes of ice and puts them in your hand to hold. “Holding ice for a while usually leaves a sting.”

As your fingers wrapped around the cold cubes in your hand, you waited and as he said, it left a small sting. You held it in your warm, sweaty hands until it melted and grabbed another fistful. Your eyes traveled up to Bucky’s face to see he was already looking at you with loving eyes.

“Bucky..” you began to speak, but your words fell short and nothing came out.

He sighed, “I'm not going to tell you to stop, because I understand what you’re feeling.” he paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts before continuing. “But I really care about you and it hurts knowing you have to harm yourself to feel better.”

“I'm sorry,” you said, was all you could think to say to him at this moment. You dropped the rest of the ice into the bowl and shoved it aside and shifted, trying to scoot your drained body close to bucky. “I'm sorry that I hurt you.”

Bucky blinked a few times before grabbing your face again and giving you another comforting kiss on your forehead. Both vibranium and flesh hands raised to hold your face, pulling all your attention onto him.

“Promise me that next time you feel like this. come to my room and ill take care of you, doll” he spoke sincerely. His eyes sparkled with admiration it almost made you want to cry.

You raised a shaky hand and stuck out your pinky finger in front of him. “Pink promise.”

Bucky's eyes shot from your face to your hand, and a small smile crept onto his face at your gesture. But nonetheless, he took his flesh hand in yours, repeating the line before both of you locked it with a kiss on the hand.

“Now let's get you to bed.”

And with that Bucky helped you up, guiding you slowly to your bedroom. He asked you if you wanted to change out of your clothes, and you just explained to him how tired you were and you flopped onto the bed. After tucking yourself comfortably under your blanket and settling to your side, Bucky followed after tugging off his shirt. His arms wrapped around you as he began to speak sweet nothings into the back of your head as you dozed off into sleep.

[atschoolunfortunetly]

A Very Long and Very Rage Written Rant about people talking about the FNAF Movie because I am seeing some takes that make me want to bash my head into a wall.

Very quickly an apology to my followers on here that followed me for Sonic. I would post this on my main but if you read my username I don't really have the time to do that right now. Very sorry for clogging up your TL.

Anyway, I am about to use very aggressive and targeted language. I am not hating on anyone specific but I am going to be saying sentences like "Are you dumb? Why are you like this?" Tumblr is my void and I am going to scream. I know some of the things I say may not be common knowledge. However, in this rant, I am going to pretend that it is. I am going to swear a lot. I am going to be talking about fist-fighting people whom I disagree with.

Just know that once again, this is a rant. Not a "please stop saying blah blah blah blah." I am not going to go out of my way to attack people. Which is, once again, why I am screaming here.

"Why the big warning?" BECAUSE SOME PEOPLE ON MY MAIN BACK WHEN I COMPLAINED ABOUT PEOPLE COMPLAINING ABOUT THE RED EYES YELLED AT ME. MY POST WASN'T MEANT TO TARGET ANYONE SPECIFIC. I WAS MEANT TO BE YELLING AT A MADE-UP DUMMY I MADE IN MY MIND!

With that out of the way, it is time to scream.

OH MY FUCKING GOD SOME OF THE THINGS YA'LL ARE SAYING. I have never felt the urge to rip through my fucking screen and grab some of yall by the throat. I want to bodyslam you onto the ground and pummel you to death.

Let's begin with a recent complaint I saw about William having no motivation in the movie and how they should have given him his motivation, let me tell you something bud.

They did. They did give him his motive. However, this is a 2-hour movie and they didn't dive into it. It's almost like they're making a second movie or something? OH WAIT THEY ARE! THIS IS THE FIRST MOVIE! THEY ARE ESTABLISHING ROLES!

They want you to grasp from this movie that:

William is a threat.

Mike is doing his best and is not going to pick up on everything.

Abby and the missing kids are, indeed, regular-ass kids who aren't going to understand fully the situation they're in.

Vanessa is a traumatized individual who wants to please her father and was manipulated into helping him because, you know, THAT IS HER DAD.

They are setting up the basics so people know what to expect from the next film. They will, most likely, be going into William's motives then. But as of right now, they are setting the roles that each character is going to take.

I don't know how some of yall ain't getting that because it is the most clear as day thing to me but that may be because I am aiming to be a writer down the line.

Time to aim at the other complaint I've seen which is that Vanessa is an Afton complaint. All I have to say to that is, whoah, it's almost like the movie takes place in an alt-universe from the games. And even if Vanessa is an Afton in the games who gives a fuck? She isn't Williams's direct child if that's the case and it just ties her in with the old characters. A popular thing I have seen a couple of times is that sometimes people portray Gregory as an Afton. So what's so wrong about Vanessa being an Afton. I am genuinely curious here? What's wrong about her being an Afton.

Some of yall come up with the most stupidest ass complaints I swear to god.

"But Micheal is meant to be the Afton-" Tell me how that would have worked in this movie. Tell me how Mike would not have recognized his own father if he was William. Also, I like that the movie implies that his dad is probably Henry.

"How does it imply that?"

I don't know, why don't we look at the career office scene again where William reads Mike's last name and recognizes it. He wants to tie up his loose ends.

And Mike? Mike is a loose end.

It just makes sense and it goes into the last complaint I saw about the movie.

The "I always come back line doesn't make sense," complaint.

THE REASON WHY IT DOESN'T MAKE SENSE TO YOU IS THAT YOU KEEP PLACING IT IN THE WRONG CONTEXT YOU FOOL, YOU ABSOLUTE BAFOON. YOU'RE PLACING IT IN THE GAME'S CONTEXT. NOT THE MOVIES.

If I am fucking right about the fact that Henry is a Schmidt in the movie then that means William has always been a part of Mike's life. He has been haunting Mike since he took Garret, he influenced Mike to get a job at Freddy's, and he was the reason why Mike met Vanessa.

When he said he'd come back, he wasn't talking about coming back from the dead.

He meant it as he'll come back and make Mike's life a living hell.

Anyway rant fucking over, yall pisses me off. Good day.

[pretz3l-log1c]

Recently I saw a post explaining cats vocalize around humans as a way to social signal. That Humans do a lot of social signaling as well. That's why people talk about the weather or will grumble about the long wait in line to the person near them. Or why people will ask 'Hey, how's it going?' and just want a 'good. Thanks for asking. And you?'. It's all about recognizing you're part of a group.

Then I saw, and reblogged a post, explaining that compared to most marketing stats, fanfiction is exceptionally above engagment averages at even 10% kudos per hits.

Yet, fanfic writers often feel as if they're screaming into a void and that engagement is down/dwindling/dying/etc.

So now I'm wondering if these two things are connected.

I think the problem fanfic writers are currently facing is a matter of community. In a way participating in fandom by writing fanfic is a way of social signalling. It is a way for the writer to go "I like this thing, don't you like this thing too?"

It's like the writer is calling out hello only for 90 out of 100 people to blankly stare at them. 10 out of 100 will wave hello. Only a few out of 100 will actually say something back.

Is it any wonder writers feel like they're screaming into a void? At least when you scream into a void you don't know how many people heard you, you just hear who screams back. It has to hurt mentally to put your heart out there and feel like it's being ignored.

I think about how forums of the early internet age have largely died off. How Tumblr engagement has ebbed over the years. How fanfiction has become some people's main means of engaging in fandom because it's 'free'.*

So I genuinely think the problem here is fanfic writers want community and are trying to gain that through fanfic. And they feel largely ignored/abandoned/snubbed because they're not recieving that engagement.

So my advice to writers:

turn off/hide/ignore your fanfic stats. If email alerts for kudos and/or comments spark joy then keep them. Otherwise turn those off as well.

create and/or join fandom focused discords. Find people you connect with and build a community that way.

put an author's note on your works that you like to engage with readers. That you want their thoughts, feelings opinions, etc. on your writing. Provide links for people to to chat you up on whatever social media site you prefer.

My advice to readers:

if you're going to talk to fandom friends about a fic you read, maybe leave a comment as simple as 'I love this and I'm going to share it with everyone I know.'

if you find a fic you regularly re-read or an author you loyally follow, let the author know that.

if a fic had a huge impact on you, let the writer know that.

Readers please note: I am not saying leave kudos more often, I am not saying comment on every fic. I am saying, in short, if it moves you then let the author know you were moved.

* yes I know fanworks are a labor of love/hobby and not actually free for the creator at least in time/effort. I write fanfic. I'm just saying it doesn't typically cost money to consume.