#god. fuck. this job drives me insane (negative) sometimes I want to pull my hair out

[megatraven]

Me yelling for the literal last half hour: PLEASE SCAN YOUR JOBS IN WE STILL HAVE JOBS ON THE SCREEN PLEASE SCAN THEM IN BEFORE THE SYSTEM GOES DOWN

the guy at the end of the room decidedly NOT scanning his jobs or even listening to me at all: :)

[bulldagger-bait]

Sometimes I really hate the fact I was born female.

I hate that fact that men don't take me seriously.

I hate that I'm seen as a harpy whenever I show slight passion about a topic.

I hate that I was raised in a school where the boys thought I was insane for being a feminist. Where boys took pictures of me after saying "women only belong in two places, the kitchen and the bedroom", and then posting them all over social media calling me the "angry man hating lesbian feminist". I hate that a boy negged me on in chemistry class, sexually harassed me, and then when I lost it at him my chemistry teacher told me to calm down, that I was overreacting. I hate that when i told him to fuck off, and got sent to the deputy principal to explain myself. Me. Not him. Not the boy who was harrassing me, or the teacher that allowed it in his classroom.

I hate that when I told my dad a boy had been sexually harassing me, he went behind my back, contacted his parents and my school administration. I hate that I was then called into my deputy principals office and told that this had all "been blown out of proportion" and that I was being unreasonable. But it wasn't unreasonable for that boy to say he couldnt wait until I was 18 to get me drunk and high so he could have sex with me. When I was an out lesbian.

I hate that one of my friends was raped by a boy in our school. I hate that when she told the school they didn't believe her. I hate that they made her continue to share classes with him. I hate that she was threatened with suspension for spreading lies about "such a serious topic" and that he was able to keep harassing her on school grounds, unchecked.

I hate that one of my friends thought it was okay to threaten to rape me in front of my entire social group as a joke. And then I was seen as a hysterical bitch for telling my most trusted teacher. She actually did something about the situation. I was then ostracised from that group of friends. I "couldnt take a joke" apparently.

I hate that when I was nine years old I was riding my bike around my neighbourhood, and a boy five years my senior cornered me in an alleyway and tried to rape me not twenty meters away from my front door.

I hate that when I was younger a boy would hit me, scratch me, pull my hair, twist my arm, dig his grubby little fingers into my pressure points, making me cry out with pain, only to be told it was because he liked me. I hate that I believed it. I hate that I let it continue for two years. For two years my "best friend" covered me in bruises, and I let him because it made me feel pretty and wanted. I was ten.

I hate that when I was fourteen and desperate to convince myself I wasn't gay, a boy who i thought was my friend tried to pressure me into dating him only to then tell me about his porn addiction—his words, not mine—and call me an insensitive cunt for getting as far away from him as possible. After he told me about the things he'd like to do to me. Not with me. To me. As fourteen year olds. As children.

I hate that I was forced into pink and shaved legs and make up and long hair.

I hate that my mother made me cut up boxer shorts I had bought because I was sick and tired of wearing panties. Because some guy had made some comment about my grammy-panties. Never mind the fact that they were comfortable. I bought boxers because they were closer to shorts and I thought boys would just leave me alone. I bought boxers because they were cool and had superheroes on them and were comfortable. I bought boxers because I was sick and tired of the neon pink panties my mother had been making me wear for my entire life.

I hate that I wore pigtails to school and a boy called them "ride-me handle-bars".

I hate that when I cut my hair off the first thing people assumed I was, was a man. As if its that easy to take my womanhood away from me. As if all that makes a woman is long hair. I hate that I was called "skank who was trying to hard" when I had long hair, an "art hoe" when I had short hair, and a "dyke", "failed woman", "wannabe man" when it was cropped.

I hate that at 8 years old I was being bullied for being ugly. Because I had unkempt eyebrows. Unshaven legs. Tangled hair. Sweaty skin. Scraped knees. A crooked smile. Because I wasn't a child model. Because I wasn't some pedophiles wet dream.

I hate that I'm considered incompetent for certain jobs because of my menstrual cycle. Because women are too over emotional when they're "pms-ing" or "on the rag"

I hate that a man's go to insult for me is "cunt". Something that dehumanises me to my genitals. How silly of me to think I was anything more than just a hole for someone to fuck.

I hate that someone took advantage of my sexuality. Because I was repressed. Because I was a woman who grew up in a christian environment. Because I was a lesbian who was still convinced I could be straight. Because there was a pretty woman who knew she could manipulate me. I hate how there are people who still think its my fault, or that lesbian sex isnt even real so how could I be raped? Or that women can't rape. I hate that I had been convinced that what happened to me was normal. Because women are frigid bitches that don't want sex, but their partners do, and its "inhumane" to not put out.

I hate that I am paid less. And that people don't believe women arent paid less. Despite the fact that their is mountains of evidence to support our argument.

I hate that I had to do twice the work to get half the recognition in school.

I hate that a boy with no experience and no drive was seen as a more suitable leader than I was. Because I was a "controlling bitch". I hate that I did an incredible amount of work on the student council and he got to take the credit for it. I hate that he was a worse student but was seen as more acedemically gifted than I was.

I hate the double standards.

I hate how every part of my body is sexualised. I hate how my disability is sexualised.

I hate how when I mentioned my chronic pain condition to my male classmates, they made comments about how I would make a fantastic masochist. I hate that I internalised it. I hate that I believed them. I hate that when I got into a sexual relationship I let her hurt me—even though i didn't like it—because I throught kinky sex was the bare minimum and "vanilla" was for frigid prudes.

I hate that my body is not mine, but rather belongs to the public. For the government to legislate. For strangers to ogle at. For my father to control. And when I speak up I'm an unreasonable bitch. When I demand agency, I'm insane.

I hate how the odds were stacked against me since birth all because of that second x chromosome. All because some doctor said "its a girl" and immediately half of my opportunities were removed because they "weren't for girls".

I hate that in order to keep a job I am supposed to adhere to femininity. That not wearing make up is seen as lazy and unhygienic. That I need to "fix my eyebrows". That I need to shave my "gross gorilla legs".

I hate all this bullshit bagage that comes with being female. I hate it. I hate it so much. I hate that I am my own voyeur. I hate that even in my most private moments I am focused on how an unseen gaze would percieve me.

I hate that the slightest devience from "purity" will be met with threats of violence. That if someone doesnt agree with my politics I can be told to "choke on a dick" and to "kill myself" and whoever said that is safe in the knowledge that their community supports their words and actions. That if I step a toe out of line or make a mistake I deserve the full force of misogyny that people have been waiting to dole out to an appropriate victim.

I hate that my own father sexualised me. I hate that he abused me. I hate that he got away with it all because "teen girls make up that kind of stuff for attention". Because he was an "upstanding man". I hate that believes he is guiltless. I hate that he has manipulated and gaslighted me into believing his version of events. I hate that when I speak up I need to be careful because "he's a good man" and "he doesnt seem like the kind to do that" and that "you're blowing things out of proportion, I'm sure it was never like that."

I hate that when women accuse men of violence its "he said, she said". But when men accuse women of the same they are instantly believed. I hate that my voice holds less weight than a man's.

I hate that the religion I was raised in told me not to speak in church. Not to ask questions. To submit to men. To cover my head before god. That braided hair was sinful and vain.

I hate that I was taught there was no such thing as a female orgasm in order to discourage me from having sex. That I was told sex would be painful. And yet I was also told that when I married a man I should freely give him sex because it was my duty to serve him and bear children.

I hate that I'm seen as a baby factory.

I hate that I'm seen as a collection of body parts. A uterus. A pair of tits. A vagina.

I'm not those things. I am made up of those things, but they do not define my worth. I am made of carbon, but you wouldn't call me "an arrangement of carbon atoms" or "a carbon storage system" or "a carbon factory"

I hate that when I talk about my experience with womanhood I need to twist myself into knots to not step on any toes or offend. I hate that I have to be palatable when I am upset and enraged.

I hate that my anger is demonised and sexualised.

I hate that my love is fetished by heterosexual men. I hate that they see lesbianism as this empty thing to get off to.

I hate that I don't feel safe holding my girlfriend's hand in public. I love her more than anything in the world and my skin burns when I don't get to touch her. I hate that sometimes I get scared and call her my "friend". Not girlfriend. I hate that in public I feel ashamed to love her.

I hate it that my homosexuality is debated. I hate that it is seen as disgusting.

I hate that I have been taught and socialised that every single part of who I am is fundamentally flawed in some way.

And yet, despite all this, there are days where I am grateful for who I am. There are days when this body is not my enemy. There are days when I love my womanhood, however that may appear. There are days when I am unbothered by the thoughts of others. There are days where I am unafraid to love who I love and to love proudly.

There are days where the pain and anger of the past drive me to be happy.

I know those days won't last. They never do. There's always a slur, or a misogynist, or an abuser, or a traumatic memory. There's always a right being infringed upon, or an aspect of my body made public property, and it takes me right back to the anger.

I could never stop being angry. There is too much pain in this body to forgive and forget.

But sometimes, I don't hate the fact that I was born female. Some days I'm proud.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #232

“i’ve never bought a suit before in my life, but when you go to meet god, you know you wanna look nice.”

Do you have trouble typing when the room is dark? No, I don't look at the keyboard. When’s the last time you had a headache? I had an abomination of a three-day-long headache before my cycle like a week or two back or something. How often do you take surveys? Not as much as I used to now that I actually have school, but occasionally. What did you last write on paper? I think some items to Mom's shopping list? Does anything on your body hurt? No. What do you currently hear? "Bullet" by Hollywood Undead. I can hear cars outside, as well as Bentley biting himself incessantly. Sounds gross. Do you have any goals you’re trying to fulfill? As for in the near future, hopefully - I'd pray if I believed in it by this point - start losing weight again. Grow more in my photography, 1.) because I want this so badly and 2.) there's no way I could handle the stress of school and a "real" job but we're in serious need of money right now. I'd really like to make progress with driving too, but I haven't been able to in months because a headlight in broken, the license plate or whatever is expired, and the car can't pass inspection, so Mom doesn't want me at the steering wheel and get pulled over for it. Being on the borderline poverty line is A BLAST!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Do you ever do the dishes? I'mma be real, real honest here. Not really. Reason being we don't have a dishwasher and I am super queasy actually hand-cleaning dirty dishes, I get frustrated because I feel I don't clean them well enough (being a germaphobe is also fun), and my OCD goes absolutely insane trying to play Tetris with the drying rack thingy. All that being said, it's my least-favorite chore. At your house, does everyone eat together as a family? No. We started to drift apart when I was... maybe a pre-teen? When did you last have butterflies in your stomach? Sara decided she wanted to try making out and I was fucking terrified of going too far or scaring her. Are you independent or dependent? I'm embarrassingly dependent. Who last made you smile? My pup. How did you find Bzoink? Taking surveys for so long. What’s your dream job? If travel and heat weren't considered, a meerkat biologist. Do you brush your teeth twice every day? Just once. Do you have a pool? No. Are the streetlights on? We don't have streetlights on my road. When you wear a hoodie, do you pull the sleeves over your hands? Not unless I'm really cold. Do you trust anyone, besides yourself, fully? Sara. I would say Mom, but I'm entirely aware she's lied and made stories up about Dad. Do you believe the saying “once a cheater, always a cheater”? No. I've never really understood this. People change. Are you in any advanced classes at school? I bypassed the freshman English class, yeah. Well, is that considered "advanced?" I don't believe it's like an AP course or anything, but it's not a class I'm supposed to be taking as a freshman, so??? How often do you eat your favorite food? Every once in a while. Have you ever fallen asleep on public transport? (including planes) Probably. What was the last TV show you watched? Uhhhh I think it was all the way back when Colleen and I were still friends and we checked out The Good Doctor. Or it was either Parks and Recreation with Sara and her family or Avatar: The Last Airbender, also with Sara. Where was the last place you went on vacation/holiday to? Who’d you go with? The beach with Colleen, her husband, and their son. Well, does that count since it was only for a day? Does the place you work have music playing? What sort? I don't have a job. What’s your favorite type of donut? It varies between chocolate frosted, glazed, and plain. What do you usually eat for breakfast? If I even eat, it'll probably be like, a meal replacement shake or Pop-Tart. Can you touch your toes without bending your knees? Surprisingly. When was the last time you went out for dinner? Like at a sit-down restaurant? Hm. I think it was El Tapatio with my mom and Nicole maybe near two months ago. What was the last thing you said to someone else in person? Idr, something to Mom. Do you use Windows, Mac, Linux, or something else entirely? Windows. How many times do you call someone on the phone a week? Like zero, usually. Have you cooked anything today? What was it? No. Do you have a lot of cousins? What are their names? Yeah. I'm not sharing all their names on the Internet, and besides, I don't even know most. What does your shampoo smell like? I don’t know. What about the body wash or soap you’re using at the moment? I don't remember, even though I got out of the shower like an hour ago. Any movies you’ve seen recently that you’d recommend to me? No, I barely ever watch movies. Why did you last go see a doctor? The primary reason was for my night terrors. Do you know how to play Minesweeper? No. What was the last thing you bought online? A new heat lamp for my snake Venus. Where do you usually park your car? I don't have a car, but Mom parks in the driveway behind the house. Does your mail get delivered to your house or do you have to collect it? It's put in the mailbox on the other side of the road. Are you more logical or creative? Creative, I'd say. Do you cut tags out of clothing so they don’t itch and bother you? Usually. How many times a year do you go on vacation? Pretty much never. Can you curl your tongue or do anything else cool with it? I can curl it a little bit, but my snake eyes piercing prevents me from doing it all that well. What was the last job interview you went to? For a deli position at a Food Lion. Got the job, lasted not even two hours. :^) What embarrassing music do you listen to? I'm not really *embarrassed* of any I listen to. Just kinda surprising to admit to some people sometimes. What’s your biggest talent? Writing, I guess? What’s the best gift you ever received? My dog. What fear would you like to overcome? More than ANYTHING? Probably being judged in a negative way or being seen as "weird," and not in a good way. AvPD is a bitch and makes me less open about myself (mostly just irl, but yeah), which I REALLY don't like. Would you rather ride in a hot air balloon or hang-glide? Hm, hang-glide, maybe. I dunno. What habit would you like to break? Procrastinating, lately. Describe the most romantic moment you’ve ever had. I can think of a few, but here's the one that had the most biggest effect on me, I think. There was one time Jason and I were kissing, I told him I loved him, and he whispered, "I love you too, wife," before going back to kissing me. Remembering that still hurts, a lot. I know now us separating was for the better, I don't want someone who doesn't have faith in my strength, just the memories like those from the time I was convinced our love story was a fairy tale are very painful. Just typing it caused a discomfort in my stomach. What’s your worst personality trait? Laziness, probably. Or impulsiveness. Have you ever cheated on a test? No. What’s your favorite karaoke song? I don't sing karaoke. Do you know anyone with two different colored eyes? I don't believe so. What was the last thing you bought for someone else? Sara's anniversary present, which was a pillow that said something along the lines of, "Hug this pillow until you can hug me" or something. Do you like hot fudge sundaes? My fat ass can't even associate with you if you don't like HOT FUDGE SUNDAES????????????? Do you like to sleep a lot? It's funny, I tend to like naps during the day, yet I don't look forward to trying to go to sleep at night. It always takes longer, and there's also the possibility of just waking back up and struggling to fall back asleep for the rest of the night. Is there a garbage can in the room you’re currently in? No. Have you ever been in a class that you thought you were too smart for? I don't think so. Can you type without looking at the keyboard? Yeah. We had a mandatory typing course in middle school, so I learned it exceptionally well. Have you ever been snorkeling? No. Who was the last person you apologized to? Maybe Sara? Do you throw things when you’re frustrated? NO. I am very conscious of not expressing my anger with physical violence of any sort. How much do you get paid at your current job? N/A Are your friends mostly older than you or younger than you? I think younger. Would you ever get a pet tarantula? Nah. Do you want to dye your hair? Ugh, you have no idea. What’s your favorite zoo animal? Meerkats, duh. Is there anything in your room you’d be ashamed to show to your parents? I'm VERY self-conscious of my artwork, so I'd be mortified if my mom saw my drawings, even though there's nothing "wrong" with them. I'm just shy about 'em. Have you ever accused someone of cheating when they weren’t? Yeah, hence the end of that day-long relationship. Him cheating was a lie from his insane ex, but at the time, I just believed it, but it was absolutely for the better. He wasn't for me. I really shoulda just listened when my art teacher literally took me aside one day and warned me about him. Wha'd'ya know, he wound up on house arrest or something similar, and who the hell knows what he's done by now. When was the last time you played hide and seek? I played with my niece and nephew some months ago. Don’t you hate when people stare at you? Fuckin' yes. I'm too self-conscious for that shit. Have you ever accidentally caught yourself on fire? Well thank god no. Are you Jewish? No. Does anyone copy the things you do? No. Is your dad still alive? Yes, yay. Have you done anything lately that you instantly felt was a mistake? Possibly. What melts your heart/makes your knees weak? Watching Mark with kids causes me severe physical pain. What would you consider unforgivable? Rape. What are your views on spontaneous human combustion? Freaky. Parasite Eve first made me think "oh shit what if this could actually happen," and I've also watched a Shane Dawson video about it, and the idea of it possibly being a real thing is absolutely terrifying. How many dryer sheets do you put in an average load of laundry? I think Mom uses one or two? I dunno. Have you ever felt trapped in a relationship? No. What is your favorite frozen treat? Ice cream. Do you have a sexual fantasy? ...What is it? There's probably something I could think up. Maybe like bang on a church pew or something lmao idk. Who was the last person to insult you? I'm not sure. What color is your brush/comb/whatever? White. Is it wicked hard for you to sleep when its hot in your room? It is almost entirely impossible. Have you ever purposely given someone wrong directions? No, but then again, it's not like I even give them. I have a horrible sense of direction and don't know street names, highway numbers and locations... What is your favorite thing to do with your best friend? I'm not sure. Everything is fun with her. Are you easily offended? It depends. In most contexts, no. Have you ever acted as tour guide for friends/relatives from out of town? Not really. If you were an anime character, would you be a yandere or a tsundere? HAHAHA I AM PAINFULLY A YANDERE. If you have glasses, do you get days when you don’t feel like wearing them? No, because I like to see. Have you ever played bingo at an actual bingo hall? No. Ha ha, this reminds me tho, I can't recall if he did it once or just WANTED to, but my brother may have gone into one, yelled "BINGO," and immediately left. Did your parents ever collect any magazines they didn’t want you to read? Uhhhh no. I'm quiiiiite sure neither of my parents had those. Have you ever pledged money to a Kickstarter and it reached its goal? No. I probably would if I had excess money and really believed in it, though. Is there a color combination that holds a significance to you? Because Jason's favorite thing in the world was the Joker, seeing purple and bright green together is one I just prefer not to see. I wouldn't call it a PTSD trigger, like I don't freak out about it, it's just like an "ugh ew" sorta thing. If you use Facebook, do you ever look at the Memories page? No. I cringe 90% of the time when they pop up. Do you have a drawer where you just throw some random stuff? No. Have you ever had to provide an alibi for something? No. What’s the funniest shirt that you own? I have a Batman one I'm trying to shrink back into that says something like "I wish I was Batman but I'm poor and hate fighting" & I love it. What is something you absolutely refuse to pay for? Idk off the top of my head. Has a stray/runaway cat or a dog ever followed you home? Cats, I think? If so, what did you do with it? Fed it with the other cats, and I'd assume Mom would've called the owner's number if given. If you could grow a beard or a mustache, would you? I'm a cisgender female so like... Is there a stranger you expect to see every day? No. What is something you take pride in? I'm proud of just how deeply and genuinely I care about people. And my writing and photography, mostly. What does the nicest dish set you own look like? All our dishes are literally the same, and they're ancient. I think they were my grandma's but given to Mom. Pattern's worn and everything. They're ceramic with a floral design. Why did you stop working at the last place you were employed? I absolutely cannot be in a position of responsibility or customer service, and the environment was way too busy. What would you do if you found out your ex was pregnant/fathered a child? I... don't know how I would react? Picturing it, I first feel like I'd be so happy for him, but I KNOW my PTSD would act up at some point shortly after and I would probably end up in a bawling ball (lol "bowling ball" that wasn't intended sorry) because "that was supposed to be me," but then I'd be fine again after I got all that emotion out. Who was the last person to smoke a cigarette in front of you? Someone at school. You can smoke outside, and it's the one thing I don't like about my college. Are you very close to your siblings? Not nearly as close as I wish we were. How often do you watch the news? Never. Do you have a dishwasher? No. What is the worst lie you’ve ever told? I don't like talking about it. Well, it wasn't a lie, but I stretched the truth because anxiety's a goddamn asshole. Where is the last place you drove to? I drove to, probably home. What is your favorite Disney movie? The Lion King. I may even like the live-action remake more, but I can't say with certainty. Do you have a fan in your room? Yeah. What color is your lampshade? I don't have a lamp. Do you like to wear belts? Not anymore. What is the most expensive electronic in your room? This laptop. Only a year old and yet it's so abused with how much it's used. Are you involved with any charity work? I wish I was in the position where I could, anyway. Do you celebrate St. Patrick’s Day? No. Have you ever hatched an egg? OKAY SO! I remember in elementary school, maybe like 1st grade or something, we incubated a chicken egg and hatched it. I can't remember where it went. Do you chew gum on a daily basis? No, I rarely do. What brand shampoo do you use? Suave. When is the last time you went to an amusement park? Years ago shortly before the breakup with Jason and Dillon. Or Dustin. Whatever his name was. Do you have a garden shed in your backyard? Nope. Are you obsessed with anything? Y'all know I don't know how to love in moderation, not even remotely. Do you prefer non-diet or diet soda? I hate diet, and the artificial sweetener also gives me serious headaches. Who was the last person you hugged? My mom, maybe? What did you do when you found out Michael Jackson died? We were swimming in the pool while Mom or Dad was grilling, idr. What’s your best friend’s favorite band? Pink Floyd, Evanescence, and Within Temptation. What’s your favorite kind of beer? Never tried it, don't want to. How do you get songs out of your head? Binge it 'til I'm tired of it lmao. Have you seen all the High School Musicals? I've only seen the first two. Do you dress appropriately for your age? I don't know? Probably not? Do "normal" 23-year-olds wear graphic tees? What’s your favorite word? "Serendipity." What’s the worst sickness you’ve ever had? A serious stomach virus that made me puke all the food I'd eaten since birth. Do you take compliments well? Of course I appreciate them, but I get shy. Are excessive piercings sexy or trashy? Well they're definitely not "trashy," but SERIOUSLY excessive ones, I don't usually find attractive. But it really depends on the person, the size, and where. What do you put on toast? Cinnamon, sugar, and butter. The Southern cinnamon toast. Have you ever watched Fear Factor? I LOVED it when I was younger, and I still enjoy it if I happen to see it. Joe Rogan was one of my earliest crushes, too. How many songs do you have on iTunes? Over 1k. What song reminds you of summer? MAN I remember as a kid, back when I liked country, my sisters and I loved "When The Sun Goes Down" by Kenny Chesney. Big summer vibes. Has a bird ever flown into your window? OH WOW I don't think so, but I do remember one flew into the car's grill when I was very young and going on a trip. Safe to say it died.

[wonderlandmind4]

Delicate Stages Chp 34

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x OFC Ana Rios

Warnings: Language, Anxiety/Panic attacks, mentions of anxiety/panic attacks, mild PTSD, an over use of coffee consumption. Slow burn. Eventual smut. Explicit. NSFW. Past violence. Mild violence. Past mention of suicide. Trigger words. Nightmares/terrors. Flashbacks.

Summary: Bucky Barnes agrees to participate in Deprogramming Sessions. What he gets is not anything like he expected.

Words: 2037. @justreadingfics @nerdyandproud9 @buffy-morgendorffer-01

Is it cool that I said all that Is it too soon to do this yet 'Cause I know that it's Delicate

The night is darker than usual, given that the power is out throughout the entire property. Every single light, every electronic, every power line surrounding the compound and the training facility attached has been snuffed out. According to FRIDAY, a transformer blew up outside of the Lab. The AI had informed Steve the outage was not caused by an attack or electric malfunction; darkness has lasted for hours. 

Ana wrings her hands together, twists her fingers around until they begin to ache. She did it, she’s the cause of the lack of power. She couldn't control her energy anymore. Over the past several days, it has been building up and building up, no matter what she tried doing to prevent it. It’s not just the aftermath of Simon and the trick he attempted to pull, no. It’s that Ana has been having those horrible dreams about Bucky every night. It's gotten to the point where Ana begs him to stay with her until she falls asleep.

All the nightmares feel like a weird omen. Ana hasn't been able to shake the feeling that something is going to happen. She can feel it in the air, hovering around her like an invisible force, waiting to strike. Her body has been on edge, and it’s been driving her crazy because she can’t figure out the source. She relays this to Steve, Tony, Sharon and Fury. Even Wanda can’t feel what she is feeling. Ana doesn’t believe it’s a big, terrifying premonition, like a giant attack about to come in. No, this feel more subtle; like it's focused on one thing.

She thinks it's strange, given that Simon is gone and her and Jared still have little talks here and there. At least all the energy with Jared had finally begun to fade away, especially after Ana shared a box that belonged to her brother with him. If Simon is gone, and things with Sharp are beginning to mend, then she has no clue where all those off feelings and odd energies are coming from.

Whatever or whoever it is either knows about Ana's abilities and is hiding it as best they can. Or, Ana is just being paranoid. Clearly its the latter, since Ana got so anxious and angry about it, that when she walked past the transformer while on the phone with Pepper, it blew up. Ana was standing several yards away, but she had expressed how livid she had been to Pepper, and that's when it happened. The entire property went dark.

It's where Ana finds herself now, in the black night on the rooftop, alone. At least she can see the stars clearly tonight. She stares at her hands, wondering if maybe she can see at least see something come from them. A glow, sparks, currents? Nothing. Her skin doesn't even turn color. She doesn't fully understand what's happening.

How she was able to pull the energy out of the air and drain that man's own during the mission. How she was able to hold that much power inside her, transferring it to Tony’s suit and Bucky's arm. That has never happened before, and now this. She has half the mind to go downstairs, grab a bottle of wine and the Nutella jar and go to town. Take her mind off the fact that her power, this ability which she believed had been lying dormant- what she thought she had control over- no longer is.

Instead, Ana inhales deeply, counting in her head, then exhales. She looks up at the inky sky, glad that the clouds are holding off enough she so can gaze at the stars. It's pretty, calming, soothing. The door opens behind her, and she has to fight the smile off her face.

"Knew I'd find you up here." Bucky teases. Ana looks over her shoulder, following him as he sits on the chair next to her.

"Is everyone mad?" Ana inquires. "Things backed up on the computers?"

"No one is mad, Ana." He nudges her bare foot with his. "It's a nice night, anyway. People should just enjoy the stars. Who care if no one can watch their games."

Bucky is smiling sweetly at her. His eyes are soft, his dark hair falling around his face. Just the sight of him in the moonlight makes her heart skip a beat. He reaches his hand out to stop Ana's nervous twisting fingers.

"I don't mind the dark some times." Bucky speaks up, still giving her that insanely soft smile.

Ana nods. "You know, I once heard someone say you can be whoever you want to be in the dark." She says quietly. "The dark can be scary, but it can also bring out the best and the worst of people. During the daylight, people tend to put on a mask, hide their emotions, their feelings. Sometimes in the dark, is when the real person comes out, when they're the most vulnerable."

"Is that why you were crying in the dark that one time? Because of that reason?" Bucky questions, frowning as he remembers that day.

Ana smiles, a sad little tilt to her mouth. "Are you saying I put on a mask, Bucky?"

"In a way. I think you do it so others don't catch on that things actually affect you."

"You're very perceptive."

"You aren't as hard to read as you think you are, Annie." He teases with a winks.

Ana leans over to gently tug his hair. "They do affect me, you're right. When the lights are on, during the day, I walk around trying to be a positive as I can be. There's so much energy around this place, radiating off of people all the time, and it gets hard for them. I can change it around, give off a better vibe and in return it transmutes their own and helps them."

"What about all that negative energy?"

"I store it away."

Bucky frowns. "Ana-"

"I don't keep it for long. It comes out," She waves her hand gesturing around them. "You're right though, Bucky. I wear that mask because if anyone else falls apart around me, it's my job to be as strong and as positive as I can be. In the dark, I want to cry, or be angry. I need it. I hide it away because if I don't, if I'm the one who falls apart in front of everyone else, how is that helping?"

"It makes you human."

She smirks a little. She has brought this up before. "Are you saying that feeling sad, letting things affect you makes you human?"

"I-yes." He smiles knowingly. "I get it," he chuckles. "Is that who you want to be? Healer of the Heroes?"

Ana huffs a laugh. Her smile slowly fades away as she looks at him. "I want to be the person who helps you. I want to be the one who is there for you when you need it."

She leans forward and places her hand on the middle of his chest. His heart beating just a little faster than his normal standard.

"I want to help you, Bucky. I want to help you feel what's real in here. So yes. I hide away the negative affects to be strong for those around me. Hopefully in return, it makes them feel strong as well."

Bucky lifts his right hand to cover hers, keeping her touch there before she can pull away. She feels bare under his intense blue eyed gaze, feels her own heart beat kick up a notch. She gives him a tentative smile, then slowly starts to take her hand away. Bucky grasps her fingers, following her hand down to her lap.

"Since we're being open about what we want..." Ana says lightly, "It's your turn. Got any little secrets there, pal?"

Bucky chuckles under his breath. His eyes reflect in the moonlight, gleaming a cool silver and pinning Ana to the chair. He blinks and something washes over him, his expression calm, though his eyes remain intense. His hand still has a firm hold on her fingers.

“I’ll tell you,” He begins quietly, scooting to the edge of his seat. “But you have to close your eyes, and don’t open them until I say so.”

Ana quirks her eyebrow up. “What?”

“Please. You trust me, right?”

She stares at him briefly, before she he inhales and exhales, letting her eyes fall shut. It’s silent for a moment, then she feels the cushion of her seat shift and Bucky’s lips are grazing her ear.

“I want to kiss you again.” Bucky confesses softly, his voice a low timbre that vibrates straight through her bones.

Ana inhales sharply, her stomach fluttering as her heartbeat slowly starts to pick up. His soft lips barely touch her ear, sends a warm shiver through her body. The night air suddenly feels warm around them.

“I’ve been thinking about it ever since that night, Ana. I want to feel your lips on mine. I want to feel your body pressed against me. I want to hold you in my arms, feel the way you tremble beneath me.”

Her breath catches in her throat, keeping her eyes closed tightly.

Bucky continues. "I’ve never tasted anything as sweet as you, and I want to taste you on my lips again. I want to always feel the way I do when you're around me. I want all of that so fucking much. I don't think you understand how much, darling. My hands shakes from holding back from you. That's how badly I want to kiss you again. How much I want you.

"You drive me crazy in the best way, and every day that passes where I don’t kiss you, drives the insanity deeper. I can’t stop thinking about you. Your stunning face, beautiful eyes, your damn amazing lips. Your fucking curves, Annie, I swear to God. You have no idea what you do to me, and every day it gets harder and harder to resist. To not just grab you, pin you to the wall and kiss you breathless. You’ve been this refreshing light in my life. You’re so kind to me, you’re fierce, sassy, positive, and all I want to do is ravish you.”

Slowly, Bucky releases her hand, his touch slipping away from hers. Ana nearly opens her eyes to look over her shoulder at him, her heart pounding against her chest. But there's something in his voice, low and vulnerable that makes her keep them close. She feels glued to her spot, her body trembling just slightly, and her skin burning just from the softest graze of his lips still at her ear.

"I want to," Bucky goes on, a hint of sorrow in his tone, "but I don't. I can’t. Because I see you in the light, and I see you in the dark, and I don't deserve someone as beautifully openhearted as you. I don't deserve to have you in any way other than your help for the original offer. You are too good for someone like me, Ana. I don't deserve you."

He sighs softly, wistfully. “That's why I haven't given in. I just want to have you in my life one way or the other. So. I want you in every way. I want to kiss you, but I won’t. Not again. Not unless you truly want me to. It’s been hard to figure out what’s been real in my life this entire time. But you, Ana. You are the realest thing I have ever touched.”

He carefully takes her hand again, his fingers trembling slightly, lifting her hand up. The gentle press of his lips against the back of her hand, has her breath sticking to her throat. Slowly, he brings her hand back down then breaks all contact.

“Open your eyes, sweetheart."

She takes a moment to gather herself, to prepare to somehow respond to that heartfelt confession. When Ana finally opens her eyes, she looks over her shoulder. Bucky is gone.

She searches around the roof. He's not there anymore. She releases a long, shuddering breath, not realizing she'd been holding it since the start of his confession. Her heart is rabbiting against her chest, and her stomach feels fuzzy, and her ear is still burning with the phantom touch of his lips. She feels something on her cheek and she lifts her hand to swipe at it. Her fingers come away wet.

Ana doesn't know if that single tear is because she's feeling so much all at once. Or, if it's because Bucky truly thinks he doesn't deserve something beautiful in his life, despite him saying he doesn't deserve her. He honestly believes he doesn't deserve to have anything good in his life and that...that needs to be disproved.

The power suddenly kicks back on, buzzing to life again. Ana's entire body hasn't stopped trembling and Bucky left her alone on the roof. As if he is scared of her response. That won't do. Ana gets up on shaky legs, heading towards the hidden staircase. Once she steps off the last step in the hallway, she turns towards Bucky's room.

************************************************************************

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A/N: This chp was inspired by the mini-series Kings . “You can be whoever you want to be in the dark.”

[outfromunderthegaslight]

What Happened Here

I have tried to mentally and physically draft this experience hundreds of thousands of times in what feels like millions of ways from all different angles. I have played around with and said and written hundreds of different responses to try to give people, and sometimes even myself an answer. 

I want to begin by saying that this is not to appease you, whoever you are reading this. This is not because anyone deserves an explanation. It is because today, my divorce is finalized and I am overwhelmed with emotion and want to have final closure on this chapter in my life. I’ve been bringing back Bracy for a long time now. And it was damn hard. And I could not be more proud of myself. So if you read this, and don’t like what I have to say, feel free to delete me.

For those of you have known me for a long time, who have watched me develop and grow up, know that I’m not the same 13-year-old I was over a decade ago. I was blissfully ignorant back then and I have grown up and experienced some of the best and worst moments of my life in the recent past. As a perfectionist, that is not an easy thing to admit. Do you remember the first time you experienced overwhelming failure? I do.

I vividly remember being maybe 13 and having my very first portable CD player stolen at City Park. Now, let me begin by saying that it was my fault. I left the pearly slim blue player under a park bench while I went to play.  Realizing what I had done when it was gone was defeating. I didn’t go back to that park for a season because I felt so stupid to have lost what I had just invested my very own $60.00 in. Plus, a $15.00 Kelly Clarkson CD. I didn’t even tell anyone how crushed I was out of the sheer embarrassment of failing, at what people would say. I tried. It wasn’t enough. I wasn’t enough.

At 18 I got my first B+ in college. I wept. I had gone to the math lab, I went to every class, I did all of my homework. And I was not enough. My hard work was not enough to guarantee success. I spoke with the professor, with the dean, to see if there was ANYTHING I could do. It was 0.3 of a point from being an A. I tried. It wasn’t enough. I wasn’t enough.

My marriage was the same way. It was the first great failure of my adult life. I tried. It wasn’t enough. I wasn’t enough.

Winter came. My depression deepened. I felt so crazy. I isolated myself, I drank a lot of tequila, I showered infrequently, I did not find joy in a lot of the things I used to love. My apartment was a mess. My job was a mess. My life was a mess. And all of those things were my fault. I just grieved. I grieved hard and I did not grieve in a way that was pretty. I frequently burst out in tears. I deleted all of my plans for the future. I stayed in bed. I didn’t sleep. I didn’t eat. For days at a time. I couldn’t. God, I wanted to be okay. I went through extensive therapy every week where they told me that I would be okay. Eventually. I used to tell them I was giving up four fancy cups of coffee a week to invest in my mental well-being so this session better be good. My therapist used to always laugh and dive-in before I lost my nerve.

For my friends and family who stood by my side during this awful season, I will never be able to thank you enough. Thanks for taking me to buy groceries or ordering me endless food when I just couldn’t handle normal life. Thanks for letting me wear sweatpants all the time and saying nothing except nice things. And thanks for being real when I needed it most. Thanks for weeping with me in my sadness when I told you there was a huge, gaping, hole in my heart and that I loved Josh so much and wanted to remain married so bad that I couldn’t go on. Thanks for dancing with me in my fear to the Taylor Swift discographies and all the other songs I would blast out of a stereo on repeat. Seriously. You probably can’t listen to “We Are Never Getting Back Together,” without seeing me gyrating and singing/screaming this anthem. Thanks for breaking dishes in the alley next to my apartment when I was so angry as we proclaimed truth over my life and denounced the lies.

Thanks for telling me I didn’t deserve this. That you knew how hard I tried. That it was enough. That I was enough.

That I wasn’t crazy. That I had had enough. When Josh asked me for a divorce on Valentine’s day for what felt like the hundredth gut-wrenching conversation, I agreed. I didn’t give up on my marriage. I chose life. I chose happiness. I chose wholeness. I chose healthiness. Unfortunately, I could not have those things with Josh. For better and for worse, I did not make this decision lightly.

Summer came. Like a timid animal returning from a winter hibernation, I fell in love with myself again. I rediscovered things that brought me immense joy and satisfaction in life. I challenged myself: in every aspect, you can imagine. I fell in love with my body. I treated myself better. I built routines and kept them. I loved that Ed Sheeran released a summer single that included the line “And, baby, my heart could still fall as hard at twenty-three.” I was twenty-three and falling in love all over again. For those of you who didn’t know what was going on and said I was “fake happy” fuck you. You can take that kind of negativity and bury it. Of course, life isn’t always sunshine and butterflies. After the season I had, I was definitely an advocate of that. Summer wasn’t all sunshine for me. It was still HARD. I was consciously undoing years of destruction. But I was working to not be bitter and to be much better. And those days, for as hard as they were, the dark and the light ones, were thousands of times easier than the kind of torture I experienced every day being married to Josh.

For those of you who haven’t lived it, let’s recap the past 5 years or so in the life of Abby Bracy/Abigail Bracy Witten/Abigail Bracy. Between name changes, address changes and overall life changes, the DMV hates me.

In Spring, 2010 I graduated from High School the same weekend my High School Prom took place. I wore a purple cap and gown because it was (and still is!) my favorite color. Some things never change. Because Ellie, Faith and I constructed our own ceremony, we danced down the isle to “Bohemian Rhapsody” (just the guitar solo breakdown) by Queen.

In Summer, 2010 I lived on the family farm helping take care of my ailing grandfather. This was an insane summer for my entire family.

In Fall, 2010 I began going to college at Clemson University and Southern Wesleyan University, 469 miles from my childhood home of Portsmouth, VA. I planned to and did graduate in exactly 5 semesters. I had short hair, a face full of piercings and the world was my oyster.

In Fall, 2010 (speaking of oysters) 18 and still a baby, I was engaged to be married in Summer, 2011 with the most wonderful antique pearl ring. I saw what my life would look like for the next 80 years. I dreamed big. I made plans. I checked boxes off.

In Winter/Spring, 2011 I lived on campus and experienced my last season of being an ignorant and blissful child. I was louder and larger than life itself and could not be stopped.

In Summer, 2011 I worked 3 jobs, pulled “triples” (aka, going from lifeguarding at 5AM, to waiting tables at Red Robin for lunch and closing out Applebee’s dinner shift in the evening) and barely remember anything that happened. Except for…

In Summer, 2011 I was married to my teenage dream, my high school sweetheart. The night before my wedding, I went on the most insane adventure trying to find false eyelashes because the ones I had picked out were gone. My friends laughed with me so hard that we cried. Everyone brought me coffee the day of my wedding. Even though I was married shortly after 10AM, I had consumed four, 24 ounce lattes/coffees. I wept with joy when my father walked me down the aisle. I felt the most loved and beautiful I had ever felt up to that point in my life. I still love my wedding dress and love my wedding and wouldn’t even change my bridesmaids super short red dresses for the world.

In Fall, 2011 Josh and I moved our entire lives to SC (two weeks after the wedding and straight off the honeymoon) where we started a new chapter together while attending school. I will never forget carrying our first sofa that we bought off of Main Street to our first home on Evatt Drive. Josh built the “Morch” (man-porch) and I learned how to cohabitate and compromise.

In Fall, 2011/Winter, 2012 I was working full-time and attending school full-time.

In Winter, 2012 I graduated from college Summa Cum Laude. My family was so proud. Except for Andy. Andy said I would never get a job with my joke of a communication major. Andy also graduated a semester after me. As a great baby sister, I definitely did not forget to remind him of this.

In Spring, 2012 I bought my first home.

In Summer, 2012 I performed extensive renovations while working full-time.

In Fall, 2013 I began my first career based job at a non-profit.

In Winter/Spring 2014 I moved back to Virginia to work for a small business near my hometown. I learned more at that job than I had ever anticipated and loved it.

In Summer, 2014 I had the best summer I had had in years living right off the beach and rooming with Christine.

In Fall, 2014 I moved to outside of DC to work at an advertising agency

In Winter, 2015 Josh asked me for a divorce

In Spring/Summer 2015 I healed from a lot of brokenness and sold the house.

In Spring/Summer 2015 I learned what it was like to be loved and respected by a man who waited a long time for me while I had the time of my life dating and eventually falling in love.

In Summer, 2015 I told Jason that I loved him. On a rooftop, overlooking the city.

In Winter, 2016 I started a new job at CHIEF. And the rest is history.

In Spring, 2016 Jason and I celebrated one-year since our very first date.

In Summer, 2016 who knows what the future holds.