#i have had an almost entirely positive experience with my transition but the things i don't like... | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lostinfantasyworlds · 2 months

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Life Update

Heyyyy it’s been a while! I never really expect anyone to notice when I fuck off for long periods of time, but in case you did and happened to be wondering why I was mostly MIA for most of 2023, here's what I've been up to.

The short version: My husband and I sold our first house over the summer and bought our “forever” home! It worked out so much better than I could have hoped, but it turns out that prepping a house to sell and moving = lots of stress and chaos...which caused me to tumble off the deep end mentally for a while afterwards and I’m only just starting to recover.

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Before I elaborate, I feel like I have to give a disclaimer because the last thing I want is to come across like I'm complaining or ungrateful. I'm very aware of how lucky and privileged I am to be a homeowner, so I am by no means asking for sympathy or trying to act like "buying/selling a house is so stressful, woe is me!" I understand that homeownership is a pipe dream for a lot of people, especially in the current economy, and I don't take that for granted. I'm genuinely grateful that I even have the opportunity to be stressed about something like this, but I can't deny that it was stressful.

If anyone is wondering how I managed to buy a house at all, I'm happy to answer that in a separate post. The abridged version is extremely lucky timing plus countless hours of hard work put into fixing up our first house that we bought for cheap back when the market was way more balanced (2016).

When I talk about the stress of last year, it's almost entirely in regards to my own mental health which is something I've always struggled with. I get overwhelmed VERY easily by regular life, let alone when I go through a major change (no matter how positive it is). Every big transition period in my life has triggered intense anxiety disorders and/or depression for me, so that's the main reason why things felt so difficult.

If you happen to be thinking something along the lines of "shut the fuck up, no one cares you were stressed, you're so privileged to even be able to own a house," ...believe me, I've already said to myself a million times. That is part of why I end up so depressed in the first place, because I feel like I “don’t have the right” when my life is so wonderful. But thanks to therapy I understand more about my mental illnesses and I'm trying to be less hard on myself now.

Still, I don't want anyone to get the wrong idea 😅.

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Anyways! If you want to know more about our house/see some pics, the long version with all of my rambling is below the cut!

The long version:

My husband and I bought our first house in 2016, right after getting married. It was conveniently located right across the street from where we had been living with 4 of our friends (which is how we were able to save enough money to buy a house), but it was in such bad condition that it didn't even meet the FHA minimum property standards so we had to use a special type of mortgage to purchase it. We always meant for it to a long-term flip, planning to live there while renovating it so that we could sell it after a few years and use the profit to buy a house that would be more permanent.

We put so much literal blood sweat and tears into that house. In the beginning we spent every single hour of our spare time fixing up the house. We do all renovation work ourselves because my dad and husband have experience with demolition, electrical, and plumbing. And anything we don't know how to do we just figure out as we go along. The only time we hired a contractor was to replace the roof that had extensive water damage.

(This is the water damage discovered down the whole back of the house a few weeks after we bought it 🙃)

(One before-and-after out of many to avoid making this post absurdly long. The contractors finished the ceiling when they did the roof but otherwise we did all the work on that bathroom ourselves, including moving the shower wall back 6 inches so that the shower door wasn't mounted to the window trim 🤦🏻‍♀️)

Over a few years we worked on remodeling each room until we eventually we got super burnt out, and then the pandemic happened and we both fell into a deep depression. Finally, in 2022 I got myself a therapist and started clawing myself out of the dark place I was in, and at the start of April 2023 we started prepping the house to sell. I had been watching the market steadily increase to absolutely insane levels and knew it was kind of a “now or never” situation, even though I still felt very fragile mentally so I was worried how I would handle such a large undertaking.

I never could have imagined just how amazing it would turn out. We truly couldn't be happier with our new home, it’s pretty much everything we were hoping for and I still can’t believe how lucky we are to have gotten it. I was prepared to have a hard time finding an affordable house. I had heard of all kinds of horror stories and the crazy competition going on in the market was intimidating. I thought we were gearing up for the long haul, and prepared myself for a lot of disappointment. Our house was the first house we put an offer on (the third one we looked at in person) and we somehow got it! It’s insane, I'm so fucking grateful.

The only catch is that it's a lot more of a fixer upper than we had originally planned on buying. I didn’t think that we would ever buy another house that required as much renovation as our first one did, because that shit was intense and we are now in our 30s and very tired 😂. But our new house has so many features that were on our “would-love-to-have-but-probably-won't-find-in-this-economy” list like laundry upstairs and an attached garage (also a pond??!?! We have a fucking pond and I love it so so much🥹). So we knew we could turn it into a home we’d love spending our lives in if we put in the work. Plus it was actually well below our budget (probably because of the condition it was in).

We decided to offer what we were willing to pay, which was well above asking but we still didn't think we'd have a chance because the market is so competitive. I don’t know if our real estate agent just worked some magic (she was amazing), but we were genuinely stunned when she told us we got the house.

(Our beautiful pond🥹 🥰)

After that, things moved SO fast. The timing made it overlap with the prepping/listing of our first home, which was really stressful to juggle all at once on top of our full time jobs. I thought selling was going to be the easy part since the market is so skewed towards sellers right now. And it did go amazingly well once we listed (64 showings and 12 offers in one weekend, fucking nuts?!?!!), but the months leading up to listing the house were CRAZY. I knew it would be a lot of work to prep the house since we had a bunch of unfinished projects, 4 open permits with the town that we needed to get closed, and had accumulated so much shit over the years, but I definitely underestimated how intense it would be, especially with the overlap of buying our new house. I had used up all of my PTO for the year by June in order to deal with house things and felt like I was constantly on the verge of a mental breakdown. I pushed myself way past my limits and knew I would pay for it eventually.

But we made it through the chaos and officially moved in July. Let me just say that I hope I never have to move again😵‍💫. It was 90+ degrees (F), 95% + humidity that weekend, and then POURING rain on the day of the move🙃. But other than that, everything went pretty smoothly! After a couple weeks of getting settled and sleeping in the living room, we started on the renovations in early August.

(Before and after of our living room that we are using as a hobby room for D&D, music, art, etc I love it so much!)

(Before and after of the downstairs bedroom which we use as our office)

We remodeled two whole rooms in about 6 weeks, which was wayy too much. We had been going nonstop since April and by the time we got to October, I hit a wall. Because my mental health was incredibly fragile to begin with, surprise surprise I ended up stuck in another bout of horrific burnout-fueled depression for a solid 2+ months after we finally paused to take a break. I've struggled with my mental health since I was a teenager, having periods of depression, panic disorder, and GAD on and off. Also over the past year, I’ve started to suspect that I may have undiagnosed ADHD so there's a lot going on with my brain. I've always been a very sensitive person, and my mental health is the first thing to suffer if I don't take care of myself.

I started feeling a bit better in December, but then things got crazy again with work and the holidays, so I ended up back in burnout land yet again. Now I think I'm finally starting to truly recover as I enter the slow season at work. We are easing back into renovations but I've been trying to take it as easy on myself as possible to avoid falling back into that dark place, which is why you haven't seen much of me on tumblr. It bums me out, and I often feel frustrated with my own limitations when I see everyone posting and chatting and creating and I want so badly to join in, but I sadly just haven't had it in me for a long time. But I'm still lurking and forever obsessed with InuKag and hope to be recovered enough to participate in fandom stuff more soon!

I've still been writing and drawing here and there whenever I get a bit of inspiration. I actually just finished an Inuyasha redraw that I'll be posting soon! I've also been writing a lot more recently, or at least thinking a lot about my WIPs😂. The main one I've been working on is If It Kills Me, which I am dying to share with you all. But it's a mystery/thriller/actiony type of story with plot points that still need to be figured out, so once those pieces fall into place I will hopefully be able to wrap it up. I'm going to be working on it a lot in February, so we'll see what happens.

I would love to share my other main WIP The First and Last this summer (since it's a summer-based story), but we'll see how things go. The next major renovation project is the kitchen 😵‍💫, so fandom things might have to sadly take a backseat again during that. But I'll still be lurking here and missing you all! ❤️

#personal #home renovation #update #I don't expect anyone to read this whole thing but thank you for listening to me ramble if you do xD #I'm an overexplainer sorry can't help it #anyways I missed being involved in the fandom last year so much #happy to finally feel regulated again #it was a busy year and my brain sucks but it was amazing

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twistedastrology · 10 days

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🪐 my take on the outer planets 🪐

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saturn is constantly given a bad rap just because it does its job- saturn's placement in your chart isn't always a bad thing- it can signify difficulties in that area of your life, yes, but it can also tell you what you have unwavering resolve in (especially if you're saturn ruled or saturn is positively aspected)

for example, my saturn is in my 1st house in leo (cancer rising) and I've seen people say that saturn in the 1st house can indicate a fear of growing old or being lonely, whatever- my personal experience with this placement is, ask anyone that knows me and they will tell you i am fucking petrified of losing myself- losing my mind, losing who i am and dying early are my worst fears (dreams in which im dying are NOT the best ive ever had 😮‍💨)

but as a result of this, i know myself SO well. i do think saturn in the 1st house can indicate issues with finding yourself IF it's afflicted, which mine isn't (thank god 💔💔💔)

im also very scared of growing out of touch with the world around me- dont get me wrong, i love being a hermit, but if im ever that old man that can't understand trends or whatever and is overly cynical of younger generations... dawg- take me the fuck out 😕

uranus i LOOOOVEEEEE and i think it stands for so much more than just rebellion- my uranus has a LOT of power in my chart (so does my neptune but they're in mutual reception 😮‍💨) because my moon is cusped (1° pisces, but i feel both pisces and aquarius influence 💔), and it and my mercury im pretty sure are why i think backwards as fuck- (fun fact, my mercury is FIRMLY direct but it likes to act like it's in retrograde 💔💔💔💔)

but!! more interestingly, i have a very specific mental process where whenever im goin thru it, i cant stay goin thru it for a while- if my brain is fucked up for a little too long and i start getting pissed about it, my uranus takes over and legitimately propels me through the pain in almost an instant. i could be going through something for weeks and once i start getting pissed about it or legitimately bored of it, the next day it's like nothing ever happened BUT i still learned from it

ofc I have to do something to trigger that effect, which is where my mars in cancer comes in and i do a workout to tap into the physical catharsis and BOOM, go to bed and wake up the next day a new man 🙏🙏🙏 god bless 🙏🙏🙏

neptune Ok i am not entirely sure what made whoever said neptune is the higher octave of venus think that but I've never been able to see it. this might be controversial as hell but neptune is the higher octave of the moon to me and jupiter is the higher octave of venus. THAT BEING SAID-

neptune is an absolutely fascinating planet to me lately and im not sure why- i do have a couple transit aspects with it right now but ive wanted to write about it literally all day now- U KNOW i might love it so much bc it's in my 8th house actually that would make sense- ANYWAY-

neptune to me is the source of all the visions from god i get, especially my creative ones- (source: it came to me in a vision from god.) the moon is a very creative placement in my opinion (i have a WILDLY different idea of the moon that i can go over in another post), so neptune follows a similar current, but neptune is higher creativity, higher emotion, etc- it's the planet of spirituality and the absolute depths of our subconscious, like to the point of past lives, that's the kinda shit neptune fucks with

but because it's also the higher octave of the moon, to me it can absolutely represent addictions and vices, everything garbage- personally, my neptune isn't very afflicted at all but i also have a major lack of earth in my chart so i Do find myself experiencing classic neptune-based paranoia sometimes- fuck dude i went neurotic for a week at one point, that was some serious neptune delusion- But my uranus/saturn pulled me back from it, because like i said, saturn makes me petrified of losing myself, so those two joined forces like "ya this shit ain't cool actually take it out back and shoot it"

i might make a post on specifically neptune stuff soon and/or right after this bc the hyperfixation is hyperfixating 💔💔

pluto i FUCK with because it's such a soul searchy planet (my 8th house is very active so ofc i fuck with pluto) in the darkest ways and i love that shit- jonathan davis has his pluto in a fucking mastery degree (29° virgo) and i am to this day like 😦 over it- and it makes SO much sense for him to have PLUTO of all planets in a mastery degree- and i have mine in 26° sag so like im not that far behind... 💔

but dude that's mastery of some SERIOUS transformative powers- that's mastery of the wildly darker shit in life and that is so fucking tight to me- i value that kinda stuff more than anything dude- probably why korn is my fav band (been listening to them as i write this 😭😭)

one thing abt pluto that i DONT agree with tho, and this is more of a scorpio thing BUT i know everyone loves to say scorpios are the sexy signs but dawg... it's cancers... i swear 2 god it's cancers- i will write an entire fucking post on cancers and why i HATE everyone's interpretations of them bc everyone's like "cnanncers are cRYBbaueiis and tHyeyre the most emOtIknal siGnsns 💔💔💔" Bro. Bro. Bro dont do me like that for the love of god. that shit made me hate my rising sign for SO long and also not relate to it!!!! then i started doin my own research and found out "Oh fuck nvm im totally a cancer"

BUT if you look at pluto like the actual God- nowhere in his mythology (that I read anyway- i could be wrong i dont wanna act like i know everything) does it say anything abt him ruling over sex or sumn like that- but everyone says pluto rules over sex!!!!!! Where!!!!!!!!!!! dawg they said he was a god of abundance bc he ruled over the underworld and gems and stuff were found underground 😭😭😭

i do think pluto fucks with taboo shit though But back in the ye olden days when astrology was being developed, sex was not taboo at all, that's a new development that i think uranus fucks with more because uranus is a very future focused planet in my humble opinion

i could definitely keep writing but i think this is already a novel SO- to specify tho, this is all my opinion of the planets, ive read PLEEEEEENTY of books and stuff so by no means do i not know how this shit works, but my uranus makes me rip everything apart and make my own take so 💔

#astrology #astro observations #astro community #outer planets #saturn #uranus #neptune #pluto #astrologer #space

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ignitesthestxrs · 7 months

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Ssince your askbox is open: give us an update on life? You moved out some time ago to your first place if I remember correctly, how’s it going? What ya up to? You like your job?

wah this is cute anon, thank you! and also a reminder of how very long i have been on this webbed site phew

in hindsight i think moving out was a rough transition for me, although i handled it the best way i could at the time. like it was necessary and ultimately good for me, but i can also clearly see now that this was the start of increasing issues with undiagnosed adhd where i went from a very rigid environment where i had a lot of structure imposed on my life by an external source, to an environment where everything was up to me, and it turns out i was not a super reliable person to give that job to!

that was: a while ago though. these days my living situation is genuinely wonderful and it happened almost entirely accidentally. one of my flatmates had to move out a couple of years ago, so i asked a younger friend who was ready to leave home herself if she was interested in moving in. there was a brief Blip where our third flatmate (TRULY A CUNT) started a campaign of terror that ultimately ended in me kicking her out, which is how we acquired a newer, gayer flatmate. after like a year? her partner moved in, and this is now a 4 lesbian household with one full time cat and three part time cats that just come in through our cat door at will.

nothing is perfect obvs but the difference between living in a house where i was not friends with anyone there and one person actually actively hated me, vs living with people whom i love, who are similarly queer and neurodivergent (this is a 3/4 adhd household, yes it is a mess), who have understanding and community, is the kind of life-changing, revitalising experience i could not have imagined before i had it. like i spent most of my life being alone and enjoying being alone, and i still do spend a lot of time by myself, but it's with the knowledge that like,,,not only can i wander down into the lounge and chill with someone, but that sometimes i will in fact want to do this. this was a revelation for me! i could not have predicted this for myself, and im very glad things unfolded in this way, because there were a couple of moments there where i was very tempted to make simpler, lonelier choices that would have involved taking less of a Chance, and my life would have been duller because of it.

my job is my job! i still work at the same place i always have (15 year anniversary next may lol). i work from home 4/5 days a week (i go in on a monday with my team and don't have to deal with the rest of the company, which suits me well). i make databases of consumer information acquired from surveys that then gets sold to media companies and advertisers, it is not exactly a world-saving endeavor, but we have a solid privacy policy in place so it's ethically survivable LOL.

one thing that has changed over the past few years is that i basically grabbed a metaphorical crowbar and started insisting that we needed more DEI (diversity, equity, inclusion) work happening in our business. this is also not a world-saving endeavour, but it is a way of bringing something that i care about into my workplace in a way that makes practical, effective policy change. white collar workplaces are very good at saying the right thing and doing nothing, and while my workplace is better than many, it has been and continues to be a bit of a fight to drag them into the 'doing things' arena. but i am having gradual success, and my ultimate goal is to create a DEI specialist position for myself if i have to like, carve it out with a butter knife. my boss is on board with this and will throw his weight around as requested, and doing this work definitely brings some interest and purpose to what is a pretty standard tech-adjacent job otherwise.

2023 has been a year of gently trying new things for me. i had a necessary surgery that has given me a new lease on life. i feel like myself again. i have been going to concerts and plays, i have done some volunteer work at a helpline (although i need to follow up on this, a thing that i am notoriously bad at doing). i am trying to reframe my relationship with creativity and writing, a big part of which has been like,,,reading again. my attention span was Shot for a few years though, and this is the first year of being medicated and like, Well enough overall in a long time that i have been able to sustain a pretty regular turnover of books.

i had a period of time there where i was kind of desperately, hysterically unhappy with myself in a way that resulted in me being Incredibly Fucking Needy because i didn't have anything to fill myself up with, i guess? so i have been on a journey of like, well to be interested by yourself it helps to do interesting things, so there has been a lot of re-connecting with hobbies and doing things because i might enjoy them, not because i want to talk about them on the internet. for real, i do think i killed my soul with twitter there for a while.

SO YEAH overall it has been a ride and a life, but i am in a really lovely place right now, even with the bumps and the hardships and the State Of Living. we grow and we go, right?

#hannah answers asks

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evergreen-femme · 10 months

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diarypost

why has my appearance always been, overwhelmingly probably, the main thing i've always been concerned about? it eats my brain and always has, and i can only recognize that i like myself as i exist *right now*, that i am finally pretty, sometimes. and yet ill look at pictures of my body from just 6 months to a year ago and think "what the fuck she was so hot what happened" every single time. and idk if this is some kind of mental programmimg error or loop or something because my mental architecture was developed in the complete absence of ever feeling even remotely good about how i looked. like it doesn't even know how to handle positive self-perception, much less process it and incorporate it into my self image. poor girl needed some positive body image and never once got it or thought she was worth anything. idk it feels like such an overwhelming need these days im crying just thinking about it

like literally that manga panel with the "if i can't be cute then what's even the point of living"... that feeling stretched out to infinity all the time

yeah im a girl but i feel like i only got to be a cute girl for like less than a year and that almost all happened during the really traumatic circumstances of me coming out. and the cute part was always mandatory for me. i feel like if i can't see myself as cute im going to die, but it just gets into my head that i transitioned on the cusp of my 30s and not my 20s and there so much socialization and fun and dressing up i missed and i feel like because of my age i have maybe a year or two of that left and even then i feel a bit too old for it.

like i was a huge nerd but more than that i was just the socially stunted outcast. i never even had friends close enough to invite over throughout my entire childhood. not one. i got to party a bit in college but i wasnt a fucking GIRL then so i stood around being *really really* bad at being a guy and hoping like. girls would notice my skin and how pale i was or something idk. obviously never happened. i got told by my roommate how badly i fumbled the possibility to be the "pimp of our dorm building" because i tried to join a female friend group. over and over he'd talk about it and he never fucking got that i just wanted to be one of them! i just wanted to wear dresses and get pretty together and feel cute and accepted and not on-guard for once. ofc it never got that far (god, god i wish it had my life would have been so much happier) bc of me. and my stupid sexuality. like i hooked up with this weird girl who hinted at doing bdsm with me (ofc it ended up with her wanting me to dom and nothing happening bc of that) but she told fucking everyone and i literally had started reading all this girl's writing to get to know her and writing bad poetry about her (ugh) but yea turns out she was cheating on her boyfriend back home ¯\_(ツ)_/¯¯\_(ツ)_/¯¯\_(ツ)_/¯ and just wanted to hook up and tell everyone the details (like lol he has a big cock but is submissive 🤢)

like over breakfast

and then poof nobody wants to be my friend anymore.

but anyway yea i just need to have that life that i never got in my 20s but all things are convalescing to make me believe that im too old for it and i'll have to live the rest of my life carrying that yawning absence with me

and its already so heavy at 31 i dont know how im going to be able to handle it as i get older

also worth noting that that was my first sexual experience ever.

#diaryposting #pls do not reblog

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sierrabinondo · 1 year

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2022

~5-10 minute read (depending on how fast you can read i guess lmao)

it’s time!!! my annual recap of the year where i detail as much as i can remember as possible because i will 100% forget most of it in the near future. kind of depressing, kind of fun!

i took a peep at the 2021 post and...my god. ohhhh no. lmaooooooooo

in some ways 2022 was better than 2021. where it was worse, it was worse than i could have ever imagined. i was in a very terrible place for the better part of this year. thankfully, a lot of positive things still happened. so,,,without further ado,,,

i went into this year with, again, lofty expectations. i was convinced 2022 would be uber busy and explosive for WSA. the beginning of the year was rly quiet. it was basically just about recording acid redux and getting prepped for our first tour since 2019. for the first time ever, i was entrusted with drawing the tour ad mat. it was so difficult but i’m glad i was able to contribute. i needed to have that experience because i had never done a piece that big before, and i need to do more of those.

my job situation at the time was FUCKING terrible. anyone who is close to me knows how toxic the environment was at eventide. it was really getting to me. i was making an incredible amount of mistakes and i felt myself shrink every time i needed to be in a zoom call with my superiors. i came to hate my job so, so much. eventually, i lost my job around end of february. i already had a new position lined up (i feel like they knew because i updated my linkedin and they FUCKING said something to me about it) but it wasn’t the way i wanted to go. whereas i was panicking losing my job pre-pandemic, i was just angry i had no control over my exit.

another thing that cushioned the blow of losing my job was almost being on the b****** album. pulses. wrote to him that i should be on his next record and he liked murder mountain so much that he contacted me. he reached out a week prior to me being let go, and that kicked off a really cool period of the year. so then i get this cool opp, no longer have to show up to this job i loathe, get a month off, accept a new job offer during this short break, go on tour, and come back to a new job. that was probably the best part of the year. it was great because i had zero idea what was coming lmao

getting a month off was a FUCKING blessing. the only huge downside was that my credit card debt became INFINITELY worse. in 2020 i was privileged to be paid to not work for the entire year and it was one of my favorite years of my life. i will take any chance i can get to experience that again, i.e. having a month and a half free from working. i got to go collision with my twitch friends that i FINALLY got to meet in person, finally hung out with donis, bren, frankie and christy after not having seen them in years, took brawly on long ass walks every day, and drew a lot. it was a relief to have so much downtime WHILE prepping for tour.

most of all. in that period of time, i finally started listening to twice. i don’t know if it was just hitting extra because i was in a transitional period at the time, but it only took a week before i was FULLY fucking indoctrinated. i. love. kpop. i love it!! so much!!! like yes, i know i’m mentally ill, but it’s like cocaine. it’s addicting. i spent the year learning the choreo to two full twice songs then the main chorus parts for about 10 other random songs for other groups laksjdl;akjsdf. i literally hadn’t danced since performing arts hs. i only have like a handful of friends i sometimes see who fuck with kpop and it’s killing me lmao help

i won’t spend too much time on it because there’s like 8 other entries below this one about it, but we spent a week of april on tour with pulses. and IMAY for WCII and it was probably THE best thing that happened this year. our shortest run ever, and our most successful. i am so thankful we got to finally tour again, and it was better than i could have imagined. i really hoped at the time it wasn’t going to be our last tour for the year, but things fell apart (i’ll get to that lmao) so it sadly was our only run.

when i came back from tour, i had my first-ever subathon. i had so much trouble running things smoothly, but it was so much fun. it was a wonderful way to celebrate the folks in my community and everything we’ve done together over the last two years. couldn’t be more grateful for them!!!

in may we played beers 4 tears fest with a shit ton of our friends and it was chaos. i have never played a set trashed before then, and i will NEVER do it again. oh my god. and to my dismay, the evidence is on full display on youtube. so yeah. we wanted to actually enjoy ourselves at the fest and drink red tank beer, but we had to play fucking last at near midnight lmao. one of our worst sets, but it was a fun day and i’m glad we got to be a part of it.

i also finally got covid! that was fucking awful! and i’m pretty sure i am experiencing some form of long covid. i have never been so tired in my life and if feel winded more easily. it really sucked. i wish i could have avoided it, but it’s absolutely impossible now. thankfully, i didn’t get it again for the remainder of the year.

in june, my uncle passed suddenly. it was so devastating, and he died way too young. he had health complications throughout his life, but i never, ever thought he’d go this soon; they were never life-threatening. in may, i knew he was in and out of the hospital, but my mom was frequently visiting him and insisted it wasn’t crtiical. then, out of nowhere, he’s in serious condition after a procedure and the doctors are swearing up and down they can’t do anything to help him. my aunt and mom had just gone to a second doctor for his opinion and said there was something that could be done to save him, but they couldn’t get him what he needed in time. i still to this day can’t grasp that he’s gone.

in both june and august, my band was invited to DJ emo nite baltimore (and eventually emo nite asbury, which we bombed hard lmao) which was shocking to us, but considering we’d get to hang with pulses., and the emo nite crew, there was no way we were turning that down. that was such a fun weekend trip to baltimore. for baltimore we were lucky to have our set earlier in the night so that made things a little easier but we still felt so awkward on stage just dancing around with no instruments hahaha. dropping smooth to a room full of 300 emo zoomers was hilarious. afterwards, alexa put us up overnight and cooked brunch for all fucking like 15 of us. it was so so lovely.

over the course of the year, i got to hang out with pulses. SO often. out of all my friendships with anyone, ours is thriving so fucking hard. we really make this long distance stuff work with no issue :’) for the better part of 2022 they’d make the drive to us, but i made trips down to them in august, october and november. in july they came down to go see thursday with jaime and i. every time we’d hang, we stayed up til like 3-4 am drinking and watching music videos. in the fall, we saw shows in VIP at soundstage together and those shows were even better because we had seats lmao. i got to hang out more with adam, carlos and the emo nite crew more, and i’m glad we had more time to chill!!

as i mentioned earlier this year, i got a new job. i actually really, really like it. i will never romanticize a job- they’re all going to have their imperfections- but holy shit, i am actually not waking up every day feeling crippling anxiety about having to work. i have ample PTO (almost a month’s worth). i work with really amazing, like-minded people who actually believe in boundaries and having a life outside of their jobs. the work i do feels like it means something. and i am actually not afraid of my manager and/or boss. i have never felt even the slightest bit positive about a past position, but i do here. and these people got me out to CALIFORNIA and SPAIN this year. so yeah, out of nowhere, i get a new job and find out two months after i start that i’m going to los angeles for a few days. then, i spent a week in september in spain, which overlapped with my birthday. normally, i vehemently reject having to do anything outside of M-F office hours (even parties), but those were two of my favorite parts this year. i absolutely fell in love with LA and i did so much exploring in spain. most of all.....i ate so much good fucking food. to think that, i not only got a way healthier work experience with this new position after going through HELL, but i also got to travel? that’s incredible. and i very much adore the people on my team. they make me want to actually... care about my job

my 30th birthday was this year. i tried so hard to rent a place for it but what the fuck it’s SO expensive. so we ended up throwing the biggest rager we’ve ever had at our house. IT WAS SO MUCH FUN and i wish i could have spent more time with everyone that came. karaoke ruled, THE FOOD SPREAD WAS INCREDIBLE (TY TO MY FAMILY AND KRISTEN) and we partied hard as fuck. so many people came through, and it was an honor to have so many amazing people show up for me (even driving HOURS to be there). i have the best fucking people in my life,,,,,ever. i really do. and i’m so lucky.

i never thought this was ever going to happen but this year i ended up joining nintendo noise! truthfully, i had secretly gotten started in like may or june hehe. never ever thought i would end up being a podcaster. i was elated when pete and steve asked me to join as a co-host and i wanted to do whatever i could to make it work. i am obviously not the most knowledgeable guy when it comes to video games, but it’s been a blast getting to talk games every other week with them. pete and steve alone have been my favorite duo to listen to since 2017, and i’ve known pete since 2010. i’ve learned a lot from listening to their past shows, and now being on a show with them. i know i’m really passionate about music, but i’ve also come to realize that video games are equally as much of an important part of my life. so it’s incredible to also be involved with them in this way, thanks to my friends :’) and i get ANOTHER platform to tell everyone that they should be playing digimon,,,,,,

that really cool feature i landed at the beginning of the year ended up not happening. i really thought, “there’s no way after he paid me half and we put in all this work together that he would just ghost me” but he did. but i’m grateful i even got the opportunity, and i know it means i was worthy of getting there. whatever happened was out of my control, and i came to accept that. it’s not my song. i have my feelings on the way the situation was handled, but it’s all in the past. just! don’t meet your heroes, folks!

in september, WSA stopped playing shows to focus on the full length. i don’t know what happened but we just didn’t get it done this year. as of the time i’m writing this, all main guitars are done and fully tracked, some drums still need to be done, and ALL of the vocals need to be tracked (i just got started last night). the thing i try to keep saying to myself to calm my anxieties about it is that- we only get one chance to drop this album, and once it’s out, we get about a week of people’s attention. that’s it. so, if we have to take our time, so be it. but it’s 100% coming out next year IT HAS TO AT THIS POINT LMFAO

and that was really the rest of my year. enjoying the holidays (cosplayed as mirko for halloween :-----) and trying to stay productive. every time december rolls around i try really hard to make it a fun holiday season, but i end up getting too busy :((( december was also a scary month for me, mentally. my depression has been worsening as of late but i’m trying really hard to work through it.

i also realized this year that i have a lot of friendships that have stood the test of time, and it’s okay if we’re not always in sync! i spent a lot of my mid 20′s second guessing the people in my life, but i don’t have to anymore. i know that i have incredible friends who will always be there for me if i need them. so now i just need to learn how to be a better friend to myself.

it was a really tough year, and there’s so much i wish i could do over, but the good that came with 2022 was ultimately really positive. tons of fun gigs, dozens of late nights forcing my friends to watch buff correll, drunk heart to hearts, lots of kind new faces, and an abundance of laughs. i think this year a lot of foundation was laid for 2023 to be really cool. i’m crossing my fingers and keeping my expectations as low as i can lmao.

so if you read this far, i’m sorry HAHA. but thanks? i hope to come back this time next year with some good news. a lot can happen in 12 months.

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your-time-is-gonna-come · 1 year

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i feel like leftists really devalue stay-at-home parents. And I don’t mean in the “if a woman wants to be a stay-at-home mom then she should be” way.

Conservatives often point to stats about having more parental involvement (like a stay-at-home mom) leading to better outcomes for kids and use that to justify governmental action to de-incentivize working mothers.

And people on the left get caught up in incentivizing them and pushing for day-care. Which like, is fine and it works for some, and day-care is definitely useful in transitioning kids to school & developing social skills, but it 100% detracts from the issue about what’s best for the children. Obviously sending your kid to day-care is a valid option, and for some it’s the best option, but its hard to underestimate the value of close, personal, and involved management that comes from having a parent who does not work a full-time job.

I’m not saying day-care workers aren’t skilled or qualified, but I used to work with really little kids (4-6, so the day-care to school transition age). You cannot provide every single kid the environment that works for them in that setting. There are far too many kids for the number of employees. Day-cares are structured to work best for the median kid. A day-care employee can’t keep track of every single kid’s little differences that help ensure they have a positive and educational experience.

For example, when I was a little kid, I never took naps. During nap time, I just lied there and waited. It was hell. Eventually, I complained about it and my mom asked my pre-school to let me look at a picture book during nap time. That solved the problem for me, but what about a kid who gets sleepy when it’s the day-care’s playground time? what about a kid who doesn’t know to advocate for themself? what about the day-cares that aren’t that flexible or have enough staff to provide an individualized system for every kid?

Even after the day-care age, having a stay-at-home parent is really beneficial for child development! I had someone to pick me up from school and ask me how my day was, someone to help me with homework and make a home-cooked meal every night. I could have play-dates after school and on the weekend. If I wanted to do an afterschool activity that I needed a ride to, it wasn’t an automatic no. When I had to go to the doctor or dentist, the only thing we had to consider when picking an appointment time was whether I wanted to show up to school late or leave early. It meant if I got sick at school there was someone to take me home and take care of me right away without me feeling like a burden or worrying that my parent would be missing something important at work. Even now that I’m in college, if I’m filling out an urgent form or need to talk to someone, there’s someone I can call who can usually pick up the phone.

I know that this is one of the many facets of my immense privilege. But that’s my greater point! Having a child is an insane amount of commitment and labor. And it’s great that many people do it while working full-time jobs! Especially single parents! I applaud those who can do that! But, instead of just focusing on making resources available for those who choose to work, we should be working towards making it easier for a parent not to.

But the thing that I find both sides of the political aisle omitting is that the parent doesn’t need to be the mom. In addition to considering the non-heteronormative “traditional” families and those with more than two adults, we need to pay more attention to fathers! For almost my entire childhood, my dad was the stay-at-home parent. Sometimes he worked part-time but for the most part, his job was taking care of me, my brother, and my mom. Having a stay-at-home dad was insanely beneficial for my upbringing, and that’s what we should be working towards for everyone who wants it. We need to build a future where you don’t need every adult to work for pay full-time. We need a future where more badasses can happily support stay-at-home dads.

#rant #stay-at-home dads #parenting

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emilemily · 2 years

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My experience doing OF: a novel

In 2020, I needed some extra cash. At the time, OF was becoming a major trend.

Backstory: I’ve never been super outwardly sexual or even provocative. Even whenever I used to go to the strip club, 9 times out of 10 I was in my dress and blazer from work.

Growing up, I suffered from an almost debilitating lack of self esteem. Given the bullying I experienced as a child and teen, it wasn’t entirely hard to believe. I was a super weird kid and in return, was treated like I was a monster by my peers. My home was just within a mile of the school district for a wealthy school, which means I, being very poor and very weird, was the odd one out in the majority of my classes.

When I was in my later school years, I moved and transitioned into a school that taught all walks of life, but primarily underprivileged kids. I thrived there and made many friends. I was accepted in a way I’d never experienced prior. It was wonderful. But it was too late, as my low self esteem was sort of a scar on my heart and I would do anything to make and keep friends. I even got arrested at that school for doing things I shouldn’t have been, just because I was a doormat who wanted friends.

Either way, the point is that my self esteem had always been extremely low and as such, I was never one to partake in things that required an abundance of it, or required being bold with my body. I have a low amount of sexual partners because I was so hesitant and when any opportunity presented itself to be intimate with someone, I’d bolt. I’m infamous for bolting.

“Oh Woops gotta work tomorrow and just realized”

“Oh hey I’m sorry my mom needs me”

“Ah man I’m just so tired can you take me home”

I wanted to be this super bold person who took what she wanted, who wasn’t afraid to show off or enjoy my thin, beautiful body. I knew I had a good body, but I just had this weird flaw. I couldn’t follow through with anything. I always ran away.

So back to 2020. As OF started to rise in popularity, I began to imagine a world where I could make a ton of money and stay home with my dogs. Having more time to do the things I loved. Escaping the corporate hell that the majority of us live in, where our lives aren’t truly our own and we belong to our corporation without the contract signed in blood.

I contemplated it for a few days, and then I made one on a whim. I figured I’d simply post provocative photos, but I would not show anything that would shame my family. I just wanted to see how far I could take it without showing more than I was comfortable with.

I purchased ring lights, tripods, lingerie and began taking photosets. I’d shower, shave, blow dry and straighten my hair, put on makeup, and pep talk myself in the mirror. I’d tell myself that I AM that bitch, that this doesn’t mean my value has lowered, that I’m taking back power over my body that has been violated multiple times over the years by men who should be castrated. This was my decision and I was the one making it.

I took beautiful photosets, in fact I was in awe at how beautiful I looked in my photos. Though my self esteem has come very far in recent years, it has yet to fully repair itself. I won’t lie, the power of taking these beautiful photographs and having men lined up at the door to pay for them was fucking with my head.

The subscribers began pouring in. I was so incredibly blown away by my reception. I was $4,000 in my first two months. This may seem like a small amount in the grand scheme of things, but consider the following: I am an uneducated woman. I dropped out of high school and got my GED, and I had primarily worked front desk positions in offices, or in restaurants.

$4k is a lot to someone like me. I began to get hungry for it. I’d take my photos while blasting Lana Del Rey in my living room. I bought a lighting kit. I really enjoyed my photo sessions, solo and just having a good time.

All went well for a few months, and then I began to see that my subscribers weren’t renewing. I had made almost 10k at this point and was money hungry, starting to panic as I saw that money train leaving the station. I decided to go online to Reddit and see what other girls were doing.

What I found sank my stomach. Videos. Boy/girl (another word for porn videos with a man and woman) were everywhere. These women were beautiful and they were experts at making the right eye contact as they did these sexual acts on camera. Their subscription rates were low to get as many subscribers as they could.

How could I compete with that? Did I really want to do that? Wasn’t that something I’d always told myself I wouldn’t do? These were the questions that raced through my mind as I weighed the pros and cons of the decisions I was contemplating making.

Ultimately, I set my price high and decided to do it. The very first time I made a video with my boyfriend at the time, I was filled with nervous energy. It wasn’t exactly something that felt good to do. Having to play up and perform something that is usually done privately and intimately with someone I cared about did not come naturally to me. In fact, it was hard to watch the footage back to edit it.

I filmed, edited, and posted my first video. The reception was out of this world. I’ll never forget the feeling of waking up the next morning and checking my OF to see new subscriber after new subscriber. My balance climbed by over $300 that night. I felt bad about myself a little because it was something I’d always said I wouldn’t do, but I was staring financial security in the face and lost sight of who I was in the process.

I continued to make videos for months. My subscriber count got so high at one point that I was making thousands a month. I quit my job to focus on my content with the goal of getting out of debt and enjoying my life more. This is where everything took sort of a turn for the worst.

Being alone in your apartment all day analyzing the metrics is not a great place for someone who is naturally inclined to suffer from poor mental health. I would obsess over what I could do better, what the men who subscribed to me told me I needed to improve, how I could improve the overall situation and cash in even more. Once the money came flowing in, I always wanted more. I was no longer content with just being comfortable

As my subscriber list grew, so did the comments. I would work hard on a 15 minute video and post it, feel accomplished only to wake up to messages and comments that made me sad. There wasn’t enough tits, there wasn’t enough ass, why did I not think to bring in a third?, why did I not take my bra off?

The pressure of meeting expectations began to weigh heavily on me. I retreated into myself, neglecting my friends. I began to eat a lot to comfort myself which in turn led to weight gain. I was on a birth control implant at the time that exacerbated the weight gain. I quickly reached the highest weight I had ever been and my self esteem plummeted further.

I would look in the mirror and hate what I saw, I’d inspect each soft roll, each new stretch mark, and agonize over it. As someone who had been a size 00 for most of my life and previously struggled with anorexia, this hit hard. It affected my mindset regarding making content. I’d take photosets and upon reviewing the photos I took, feel sick to my stomach seeing what I had become.

When I would film videos at this weight, I would make sure the angle was just so in an effort to hide my weight gain. Nobody commented negatively on the weight, and those who weren’t into it just quietly stopped resubbing. This continued for a few months.

Eventually, I was so depressed that I was laying in the same spot on my couch every single day, fighting myself mentally to get up and make something for my OF. The stress of waiting too long and losing subscribers ate me alive, but I was paralyzed by my own depression. I failed to manage expectations because it was impossible. Everyone wanted all of their desires catered to in every video and it simply wasn’t possible.

I began to hate sex, or sexual acts. I didn’t want to even touch my boyfriend sexually. Portraying this sexual figure on the internet makes you so numb to genuine sexual desires because you’re so exhausted from putting on the show that you don’t want to even be touched afterwards. This was the turning point.

I moved out of my apartment and into a new one and decided I wanted to go back to work. I thrive on routine due to my ADHD, and when I don’t have a strict routine I become a neurotic mess. The only option to save myself and lose the weight I was still piling on was to get back a sense of normalcy.

I secured a wonderful job with a great company. I was prescribed Adderall XR for my ADHD and I thrived. I killed it! It was the best I had ever performed at any position prior. I informed my subscribers that I would only be making content on the weekends as I had decided to go back to work. I lost quite a few of them because of this, but I wanted so badly for my life to return to normal that the monetary influence this had over me began to fade.

I took a couple of really long breaks from content, and when I returned my subscribers were always ready to jump back in and support me. One thing I can say is that I have some of the best fans in the world. They would send me money for no reason, they always understood when I needed to step away, and they cared about me as a person and showed it. My core fans are people I’ll always appreciate and think fondly of.

After my last big break, I resumed content and realized my heart was no longer in it. On the weekends I would anxiously sit around knowing I’d promised a video. I couldn’t enjoy my time because I would procrastinate making a video until it was Sunday and I had the Sunday Scaries on top of feeling the pressure of making a great video for my subscribers.

The final few videos I made lacked heart and soul. I had dead eyes, I’m sure. I did the bare minimum just to say I’d filmed and posted something. This is when the comments from newer subscribers (not my core group) really began to get to me. One man told me that he didn’t feel it was worth paying for given I only posted on the weekends.

1. My description was very transparent about the schedule I had for posting. 2. He was getting access to thousands of posts for a monthly fee that is very low, one that I set with the mindset that not posting often means I should lower my price. I reminded him of both of these things and kindly thanked him for trying out my content and wished him well. I was always kind when people were rude, because I don’t know who these people are on the other side of the computer screen, nor do I know what they’re capable of.

After that, I wrote up a very long post that was not kind. I’d had enough. I allowed them access to my body, my sex life, the extremely intimate part of my life, and all for a low monthly fee. I was never a professional and all of my content was homemade. I could not meet everyone’s expectations and I was tired of trying to do so when I received nasty messages. As I said, my heart was no longer in it so what’s the point?

I officially quit OF in July after barely hanging in there for months. I was focused on my career and I wanted to thrive professionally. My self esteem had skyrocketed with my hard work and gradual success at work. I was no longer in the same place mentally that I had been when I decided to start doing OF. I loved what I saw in the mirror, and I loved what I was capable of.

OF was extremely helpful to me monetarily for a time. It helped me pay my bills, buy food, buy myself nice things I’d never been able to afford, and also help my friends financially if they needed it. I don’t fault OF for the way it all went down.

My main takeaway from this entire experience is that OF should, ideally, NEVER be something anyone turns to out of desperation. When I started, I was behind on all my bills with accounts in collections. I wasn’t making enough at my job to do anything but live day to day, just barely. I saw this opportunity to make money and traded my soul for it. I say that because I was not mentally well enough to do it, and I did a lot of things I was not particularly okay with to compete.

If you look on Reddit in the same subs I used to advertise in, you’ll see beautiful young women advertising their entire collection for $3. Girls who are freshly 18 starting the day of their birthday. Women who are pregnant and desperate posting content to cater to pregnancy fetishes. Girls similar to the way I was, making blowj videos in their dumpy rooms, just trying to compete and make money.

But you will also see women who are confident in their content, women who thrive doing sex work, women who provide for their families and have no qualms with doing so. More power to them, because I crumbled in the face of pressure. They have strength I’ll never have.

OF changed my life in multiple ways and I’m incredibly grateful for the experience, but I am also regretful about how far I allowed myself to go. The fact that there are videos of me out there posted on the internet is humiliating. One thing about OF is that you can never fully delete it. People steal your videos, people save them and keep them, and there are archives of everything out there.

I cannot control the fact that there is sexual content of me all over the internet, and that eats away at me. I always wonder when someone I know is going to see it. It wouldn’t be the first time. I’ve had multiple people find me online and start viewing me sexually only, messaging me on FB for free nudes. I’ve had former managers subscribe to my OF. You will be seen by people you know and you have to accept that.

And this all goes back to desperation. The thing is that I should’ve known the repercussions of what I was doing before I did it. I should have weighed the pros and cons of it, and I should have probably not advertised as widely as I did on Reddit. But I was desperate and I had a giant golden carrot dangling in front of me. I chased it. Got a few bites out of it, but as I lost my inspiration for making content the carrot disappeared.

In my final months, I made about 3k a month. Enough to pay my bills and use my income from my job for savings. That was cool, but it wasn’t really enough for me to continue. I made the decision to stop and with that decision, lost thousands of dollars a month.

I’ve never been happier with a decision in my life. I began to enjoy weekends again. The weight of everyone’s expectations is no longer breaking my back. I’ve lost all the weight I had gained and I’m secure with who I am, even after everything I’ve done. I have learned very valuable lessons and escaped with my self esteem intact.

However, I cannot change the way people who know of my content view me as a person. I cannot take back making or posting those videos for the world to see. I made those moves at a time in my life when I needed money more than anything, and the consequences of that very rash decision are just something I have to live with.

I have a great heart, I’m incredibly intelligent, I have a will that is made out of fucking platinum, I’m the friend who will drop everything to help you if I can, I take incredibly great care of my dogs, I’m goofy with a sense of humor, and I happened to make and post homemade dirty content for a few years.

I have made peace with my decision in a way, but I do believe that the only thing capable of washing away the regret I feel is time.

Das my OF story. The end.

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lovely--lover · 2 years

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weird request but i'd love to see your take on this. What happens after the movie ends? Does Keller get found? or is he left there to rot. What happens when Alex is returned to his family? ect. :) yk tying up loose ends

Oooo this is interesting!

I believe Keller is found because Loki notices the whistling and begins walking towards it at the end of the film. If Keller keeps blowing the whistle then Loki would continue towards it and probably call out allowing Keller to respond that he is there. If Keller suddenly was defeated and stopped whistling then Loki would have moved on and left. But the forensic team was digging up the backyard so eventually, they would have dug into the tunnel. Making it easier for Keller to be heard and saving him. Although by the time the forensics team found him he would be in a bad condition. My optimistic mind believes that he would have been found. Plus Loki comes off as obsessive and determined especially when solving a case and a finding Keller would have been the final thing that closed the case entirely.

I have seen where people describe Alex as having an easy transition back into his family but I disagree. Alex has Stockholm Syndrome in regards to Holly. There is a deep and toxic relationship between them. He would be very confused and distressed at the information that she is dead and he is going to be with his 'family.' Holly was his family for almost 30 years and all he knew and had left. The memory of his real family prior was probably replaced in his mind with traumatic memories. Because the brain holds onto negative experiences instead of positive experiences, unfortunately. It would be like entering a home with strangers and Alex would not have a good association to strangers. I imagine Alex would be terrified and have outbursts of panic, anger, and sadness. As well as being extremely reserved and having a difficult time forming a connection. Over time his trust could be earned. His IQ and understanding are small so if his family was showing him continuous positivity and love he would slowly understand them as kind and open u more but still be weary. His mother would be devastated to see the state of her son. He is physically and internally unrecognizable as the boy she knew and would have to relearn how to love and care for her son.

For Anna and Joy, I think they both would have to receive extensive therapy to understand the situation and learn how to talk about the situation. They would both wake up with nightmares and have to ler how to exist in the world without constant fear in the back of their heads.

I feel like this would be the case that gets to Detective Loki. He can't stop thinking about it and analyzing all the signs he missed and what did wrong. Eventually, he has to take a break from being a police officer because he can not focus on other cases properly. He definitely checks up on Anna, Joy, and Alex. In my mind, Loki would try to talk to Alex and apologize to him for not knowing he was a victim and not saving him sooner, and blaming him for the crimes.

So sorry this is like an essay but I hope you enjoy my 'endings' lol

#alex jones #alex jones prisoners #prisoners 2013 #thanks for the ask!#mwah <3

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and-above-all-else · 22 days

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Re-Election 2024

I told myself that I wanted to pen down my thoughts and entire decision making process as a reflection so I can refer to it again on hindsight, to either encourage and preach truths to myself or see how much I have grown or change through the years.

Since January 2024, the topic of re-election has been at the back of my mind, because the pastors have brought it up in our conversations.

So 1 month ago, on 18 February 2024, Dev and I had a talk in the middle of the fellowship hall about re-election for deaconship. I had initially prepared a 3 point sermon as part of my processing and so I will be able to articulate my thoughts well. However, before I could even get past the first point, the tears just kept flowing and the other 2 points never really came out in as much depth as the first.

My 3 point sermon was

1. Fear of burn out

Given the rate of ministry and the rhythm of being a deacon plus having a full time job made it hard to rest physically and spiritually. Not having a full-time staff also made being a deacon more demanding. Additionally, work was more demanding, emotionally and in terms of responsibilities. But I was clear that I was not stepping down so I could give more of my time to work, but as a recalibration of the work-ministry rhythm and find a more sustainable balance. There has also been a lingering thought that I may want to see someone with a more professional skill set to talk through these things or someone with lived experiences, because I realised that talking to some friends about it was more draining than helpful.

Side note, ever since my conversation with Dev, I have also limited this conversation to people whom I know can encourage me or help me process things well.

2. Identity

I was worried that the title of a deacon confounded my identity in Christ and in the church. I was also worried that I would not be able to set aside the title of a deacon the longer that I hold this position, and it erodes the purpose and function of this role eventually. So in my mind, the earlier I walk away from it, or if I am able to let it go, the healthier it would be for me.

3. Source of Joy

I was also acutely aware that in 2023, the joy in serving has been decreasing and even dread started to creep in. It could be a culmination of factors, AG25, Covid-19, transitions between school and work. But that was a warning sign to me that things were not right in my heart and perspectives and I needed to sort it out.

And that was how I arrived at an almost 100% no as an answer. I was even questioning the pastors why they would recommend being a deacon instead of other ways of serving and if there are other ways of refining and transforming in godliness?

But in any case, through the tears rolling down my cheeks, there were a couple of things that Dev said that I found helpful

1. Even if I were to step down, I needed to have safeguards to ensure that I am not falling off a cliff

2. He highly encouraged me to continue on, but take a step back with Debbie coming on board

3. He also brought up speaking to others who have gone before me to learn from their experience

I also spoke to Ruth and Vernon separately (and somehow got better at being able to articulate my thoughts without bursting into tears). But it was ultimately reading the book "Serving Without Sinking" that helped bring me back to the basics and reframed my perspectives.

Being the bride and preparing my own wedding dress for the Wedding Feast

“The righteous deeds of the saints—the good things we do in the service of Jesus—are a huge investment of our time, money, sweat and even sometimes tears. And they are meant to be a delight to us. They are our wedding dress. They are our glory. They are Jesus’ gift to us, because He has broken with tradition and not only seen the dress, but made it Himself as beautifully as only the Creator of sunsets and stars can.”

This was quite an awakening of sorts, that the good things we do in service of Jesus are our wedding dresses and in preparation for the Wedding Feast.

"Although we are a royal bride, we are still grubby. We are a long way from living out what it means to be the bride of Christ. So Jesus goes on transforming us; He goes on cleaning us. He marries us as we are, but He loves us too much to leave us that way.”

And each time we choose to do something in service of Jesus, it is an opportunity to learn to serve the Husband as a wife, serving the Husband who loves his undeserving bride.

2. Being part of the family business, and how God enjoys having his children working alongside him in helping in his building project

“We get to be with God as He works. We get to be part of how God works. We get God.”

“We get to work with our heavenly Father. Not because He needs our help (remember Daisy and me), but because He enjoys our company. He gives us the privilege of being part of what He is up to. He helps us and gives us the Holy Spirit and covers over our mistakes. He loves us working with Him because He loves us."

3. Gifts vs Chores

It took me a while to wrestle with this, and it was quite a drastic reframing of how I view the gifts that God has given me.

Not going to deny, there are aspects of being a deaconess that I dread and dislike. There are times where I grumble about how I don’t want to do things but I have to do them because there is no one else to do it or because it is a responsibility or obligation. Basically seeing it as a chore or something that I do begrudgingly.

But I soon came to an appreciation and understanding that being gifted with the specific gifts of administration/planning/leading/other things that I may not be conscious of, is always a gift from God. That it could be a gift that I have yet to unwrap, and that it is a gift to be enjoyed with the rest of the spiritual family and to be used relationally, to help one another and to cause us to rely on one another as part of the body.

“In other words, being able to serve in the ways you do is a good gift from your Father. What we sometimes think of as chores to be done, the Father thinks of as gifts to be unwrapped.”

“God’s gifts do not work by themselves. They rely on the context of the church body. And in needing this unity, they help to create it. They make it obvious to everyone that we need each other. They cut against the individualism of sinful selfishness and make us enjoy being part of Jesus’ body, the church.

Perhaps next time you are using an ability or circumstance that God has given you to serve someone else, it’s worth remembering that the Spirit could have simply given them that time, or money, or upbeat nature, or physical strength, or whatever. He didn’t. He chose to give it to you, so that you could give it to them. That’s a gift to you, as well as to them.”

So even if the gifts can feel terribly hard to use, hard to love having them, or when it is a struggle to enjoy them, God’s gifts are good “because they draw us to Him. He is the greatest treasure we can have, and He will draw us closer and closer to Him.” And he uses the harder ones to do this.

“If the gift feels bad, we need to unwrap it more and see that it is given to draw us to Jesus. If we were only given gifts which enabled us to serve in ways we naturally found easy or fun, we wouldn’t learn to depend on Jesus, to lean on Jesus, to ask Him for help. We need gifts and service that lead us to draw closer to Jesus. That’s what a naturally unwanted gift can do, as long as we don’t look at it and think that God must be cold “hearted to give us what we didn’t ask for.

Hard gifts are good gifts because they draw us to Christ. And hard gifts are good gifts because they make us more like Christ.”

“The gift is good not because of what it is, but because of who gives it and what He gives it for. ”

And this work will last eternally if it goes into his temple building project.

And that was how in 1 month, I made a complete U-turn on my decision and found myself committing to another 3 years at least to being part of this family business of God's building project and preparing my own wedding dress. The rationale part of me asked for greater clarity in roles when I told the pastors my decision, while I was mentally bracing myself for the pains, sweat, tears and toil of ministry.

But unexpectedly, there was a sense of peace and acceptance that this is the way that God has chosen for me to live out in obedience to him.

#secondwork #servingwithoutsinking

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omayovaomen · 6 months

Text

The letter no one ever read:

Hey Professor, I wanted to reach out after class yesterday.

I came to university to challenge my mind.

I did not come to university to agree with everyone and be nice (I had 10+ years of service industry experience teach me that), I did not come to be told how to think, I came to learn how to think-How to form my thoughts into something tangible. How to critically engage with other academics and be part of the solution for the new future that lies ahead of us.

The minute I admitted to disliking and having a critique of the book, you became defensive. You and the entire class shut me down; questioning my mental health, indicating my emotional state and passion invalidated my point (in the age of ‘feminism and mental health awareness’, nonetheless).

Let me lay out some quotes from our class:

‘Wow, I didn’t expect you to have that perspective. I’m just kind of shocked.’

‘Sweetie, I just want to make sure you’re taking care of yourself because confronting these kind of complex issues can be tough.’

‘what you’re saying sounds racist.’

‘Wow, sounds like you’re taking things personal and being super defensive.’

‘Well, you’ve been talking a long time and no one has stopped you, so…(basically insinuating this is one way I benefit from the whiteness I am too intellectually inept to observe and acknowledge on my own) ’

‘Well, the book is based in ‘Time’, so if you didn’t get that connection to the course, I don’t know…*demeaning shrug*.’

I’d really love to know how this type of dialogue lends to open, tolerant discussions around complex issues such as racism, discrimination and diversity.

The entire experience was dehumanizing (treating me as though I lack the mental capacities commonly attributed to human beings) and humiliating (an experience I am quite familiar with, unfortunately).

No one inquired with active listening to see if they understood my perspective, no one initiated de-escalation techniques, you all just assumed what you heard, reacted to what you thought you heard with no attempt at clarification.

Instead of allowing me to confront a complex issue, everyone shut me down, rolled their eyes at me and accused me of mental instability. You then ended class when you decided it got ‘too heated’.

I find this type of behavior absolutely unacceptable in the academic setting.

In such a great time of political transition and enlightenment, I will activate and use my right to be curious, to critically analyze everything around me, and speak up when something makes me uneasy or requires clarification.

I am extremely disappointed I was not allowed to simply not like the book, as if my critique equated to perpetuating racism or trashing the author. As far a I’m concerned, I am 100% in the right to criticize a self proclaimed social critic. Especially in such a politically inflamed time as we are in now, especially with all that is happening as human life adjusts to this overwhelm of information unprecedented for our species.

If you had actually taken a moment to listen to my point, you would see my critique had nothing to do with the book and instead everything to do with the linguistics and culture surrounding the community (aka, ‘the people’ i.e. Times Mag, Vogue, Buzzfeed, Esquire, the news channels, etc.) which produced and promoted this supposedly, and I quote, ‘mesmerizing, astounding, intimately groundbreaking’ memoir.'

My critique was that I was unable to find a single negative or neutral review or critique on this book-every comment about the 'masterpiece' was loaded with exaggerated vocabulary, attempting to make the book seem more impressive than it actually is. Everyone who reviewed it said almost the exact same thing, claiming it’s some ground breaking masterpiece…My antenna become raised when everything surrounding a text, person, or idea is only positive and insidiously coercive-it reads as propaganda. It reads as, 'I make money having this opinion.'

As someone who has read extensively true masterpieces of human thought, my intelligence felt infantilized by this book, ‘Good Talk’. It is a youth reading level. The art and conversations are banal. I’m looking for the magnificent depth that is claimed to exist in this book, but struggle to find it. The more I dig, the more offended I feel-for myself and my generation. This isn’t new for me; being autistic means I don’t always ‘get it’.

But the thing is, I’m allowed to have my opinion. I’m allowed to ask questions. I’m allowed to disagree with you.

In fact, being able to disagree and have boundaries is what indicates a healthy relationship dynamic. Abusive dynamics do not allow for the free exchange of ideas-they are only concerned with control.

I’ve been through an extensive amount of psychological, physical and sexual abuse in my short life time-I have suffered greatly from being gaslit out of my human right to autonomy, to discern, judge and analyze my lived experience and perceived reality. I have spent 20 years pouring over psychology, neuroscience, linguistics, religion, trauma, somatics, politics and the extremely psychologically and socially damaging effects of coercive, manipulative, confusing and compelled speech. I have come to believe that compelled speech be one of the most insidiously predatory of human behaviors.

To recap my critique before you twisted it into calling me an uninformed racist and accusing me of not being smart enough to understand this ‘extremely complex topic’, instead of listening, inquiring and encouraging tolerance:

Let me make it clear, I do not have issues discussing racism, I do not have issues hearing about someone’s lived experience with racism, I do not take issue with someone garnering success for telling their story, I do not take issue validating racism as a very real and prominent struggle through out human history, I do not struggle to validate the generational effects of ancestral trauma, I do not struggle to identify my own experiences with racism or what privileges I may or may not have.

What I do take issue with is having propaganda shoved down my throat and being coerced into agreement with out critical analysis. What I do take issue with is the ‘in’ circle of the media dictating how we think and feel about ourselves.

What I do take issue with is the denial of tolerance and critical thought in an environment where that is exactly the entire point.

I really appreciate when my mentors care about my development as an individual and take seriously the act of education by making a commitment to the facilitation of a safe container for the ultimate freedom of thought and theory. This phenomenon, language, is how humans think with one another. In fact, there is data that indicates speech is actually more of a faculty of thought and thinking than actual communication.

Some would say freedom of speech is the antidote to war.

Because what happens when people don’t feel heard? When you restrict their autonomy? They protest and riot, rebel and fight; at the micro and macroscopic level of analysis.

What is most unsettling about all this is even though you think you are so thoroughly morally awakened with your correct political ideology, when I challenged your perspective, you reverted into your toxic masculinity to demean my point, use my emotions against me, call me crazy, and tell me I ‘just don’t get it’, just like every other man in my life. In this moment of discourse, your actions and the actions of the class went against everything you all regurgitatively preach about; tolerance, diversity and willingness to maintain open dialogue (like the program that suggested the book intends to do)

I have fought long and hard for my ability to think and act autonomously. I will not give it up so willingly just to fit in with the automatons. I am here to speak and challenge my mind, not be infantilized by professors who are intellectually intimidated by my critiques or questions and choose to perpetuate the ouroboros of silent ignorance under the guise of moral compassion and higher awareness.

I am here for all the people, not just the sum that are deemed morally acceptable by the elite.

All humans deserve the right to think and speak autonomously and to question everything.

I refuse to engage with othering political ideologies that pit us against one another over something so surface level as our skin color.

The experience of human suffering is much more complex than these skin deep, half baked, mind numbing, theoretical ideologies.

I am here to talk to humans, not at them. I am here for inquiry, curiosity and investigation; not propaganda.

Mind you, I am 28 years old. Most of your class I imagine is about 8-10 years younger than me. They’re babies, and they look to people like you to show them how to engage with healthy conflict. You really missed out on a teaching opportunity here, and I missed out on an opportunity of being heard.

My critique is founded in my passion to learn and contribute to the autonomous thought of the humans around me.

Language is more powerful than anyone likes to admit.

Empowering language is crystal clear- it respects an individual's autonomy.

Coercive speech controls others.

If you are curious to actually pick my mind and engage in a serious discussion about the insidious effects of viral, propagandist, coercive language, I am more than happy to do so.

Otherwise, I wish you best in the completion of your assimilation.

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pantherazuredevil · 1 year

Text

Japan Trip 2023 - Day 1

My flight to Narita airport, Tokyo, Japan, was scheduled at 12:50 AM on Sunday the 16th, meaning I had to be there on the night of the 15th. That Saturday, I ate with relatives at the airport, and then later met up with 2 friends who've been to Japan regularly to get some final advice and some chats.

It was the first time I would be on a plane in 27 years, and my memories of flying through turbulence were not very encouraging. The wait was certainly tough, after my friends had gone home and I was inside the transit area. I found out at a late time that I was missing a SIM card opener for my phone, in order to use the SIM card I had bought for use in Japan. Luckily, I managed to get a paper clip for free at some bank branch inside the transit area. That did the trick.

The plane I boarded had one too many kids, honestly. In the waiting area it seemed as though I might be bombarded within the plane with crying kids, a prospect that is always upsetting. Thankfully, that didn't happen, probably because it was so late at night.

We boarded the flight almost on time, and for the first time in 27 years I once again felt the rush of takeoff and an ascent through vertical space. Needless to say, I don't really like the feeling, but it was perhaps nice to finally experience it again after so long despite the unease that I was practically putting my lives in the hands of the pilot moving this thing.

Unfortunately for me, there was coughing throughout the entire flight nearby. Some guy must have had some illness that he contracted right before he was scheduled to fly, and decided not to waste his money and instead expose people to the dangers of a possible infection. Can't say I like that.

I was also stunned when food was asked to be served at 2 AM. My row of seats had no one due to the late hour of the flight so at least that was something good. Their inflexibility of meal times kind of annoyed me since I didn't know it would be like that, but I was already onboard anyway. The meal itself was pretty good though - butter chicken curry. It was actually nice to eat food like that and it didn't taste like shit like I thought it might. Microwaved for sure, but that didn't take away from the joy of having a late-night meal, something I haven't done due to concerns over cholesterol for a very long time now. It warmed me up.

There was irregular turbulence throughout the flight, but nothing too bad compared to what I had experienced in my young years and I was somewhat mentally prepared, though still stressed. It was also hard to sleep, what with the tight space and the difficult sleeping positions. The meal certainly didn't help. I managed to get some sleep at least, and woke to a lightening sky. It's been years since I last saw the sky from above at sunrise, and it was certainly a beautiful sight. No photos however, because the ones I took were blurry and deemed unfit for use.

A welcome surprise did await me - Mt. Fuji could be spotted from the plane. I took some photos but due to its distance they didn't come out too good, though this shot certainly looks like a painting of some sort. It was visible for quite a while too so I took a few more.

While flying near Narita, the low cloud cover over land surprised me to no end, it was certainly much lower than what I was used to in Singapore. Landing was smooth, and there wasn't much to be said about it.

Getting through immigration did take a long time due to the queue, but thanks to getting procedures done ahead of time on the site Visit Japan Web I was able to get through smoothly. My luggage had already been taken off the conveyor belt and was waiting for me, which would have been unthinkable in SG.

I came out of the arrival gates and sat down to change my SIM card, and had a bit of a problem though I got it working in the end. Then came the rush of having to move around getting things while fearing I might lose my way as a first-timer. I got my JR pass from the JR office (and learned they were called 緑の窓口 that way) and reserved some seats on the shinkansen and Narita Express (NEX) for the first time. NEX reservation would come to bite me in the ass later.

The ride on the NEX to Tokyo Station was pretty much uneventful, though I confirmed so many things that were common in anime were in fact accurate representations of Japan, though, I mean, duh. I was too tired to fully enjoy the scenery though, lack of sleep and all.

I reached Tokyo Station and what a massive number of people. Even if it was expected, it still overwhelmed me a little. I moved quickly to simply find an ekiben for the shinkansen ride, it was just for the experience. I did find tons of shops in the basement or something selling them, so I bought one that I thought looked good for ￥1200 (12 SGD) and rushed for the train to try and make it on time, which ended up being a good idea as I wasn't familiar with the train timings and how uncannily punctual they are.

At my seat I thought no one would sit beside me, but I ended up having some uncle take it up, just casually taking out newspapers and reading them with nary a thought for my side or feelings. Oh well, I was too hungry to care in the end even if it killed my mood. I still ate heartily as it had been some 10+ hours since my last meal at 2 AM. I was also thirsty, but I had been in too much of a rush to buy a drink.

The view on the way to Sendai was pretty good. I dozed off here and there though. My baggage also ended up too big for the upper rack, which was a real bummer as it was definitely within the dimensions stipulated by JR. I had to stack it with others' luggage and was quite embarrassed having to trouble them about it.

I reached Sendai after about 2 hours on the shinkansen (hereafter referred to as sks). Getting out of the gantry I tried looking for a drink and a way out, the stations in Japan are vastly different from the ones I'm used to. I did get stuck in the JR queue again getting a Suica card though, because I couldn't get one from the machine despite having watched a video. No idea why but the option to buy a new one didn't come up at all, but perhaps I didn't press all the buttons possible.

I ended up walking to the hotel I was staying at, which was 1 local train stop away. It was nice to finally be able to settle down in a room and write about my experiences and unwind a bit. I unpacked a little, had a drink and relaxed.

A small room but that was to be expected.

I rested a bit before dinner, and went out to look for a store nearby to eat at, according to Google Maps. It turned out that the store was no longer there, a seemingly common problem with Maps. I saw a McDonald's and 7-11 nearby and figured I didn't want to take the trouble of having to find food for the first day, what with a throbbing headache and all, so I just went straight to McD and ordered a double cheeseburger meal. It was about the same price as in SG but the size was bigger, so I'd say it was perhaps a better deal? Comparatively anyway. It tasted roughly the same.

I went to 7-11 as it had been noted as the best konbini (convenience store in Japanese) in Japan. Lawson may be more famous but that's all the anime tie-ins. Things were so cheap there. I bought a packet of wet tissue (that I'm still using) for ￥100 and a pudding and some apple juice. I also starting my farming for coins as I'd already heard they would be used a lot here.

I was able to relax again after dinner and also took a real shower for the first time in 2 days. There was a public bath just for men so I went and soaked as well, wow that was 気持ちー. I'd never soaked in a hot bath or hot spring before so it definitely was a pore-opener. I was in there for almost 10 minutes, and there came another guy so I decided not to stay too long. I purposely chose a time when I thought there would not be many people as I was afraid of breaking etiquette or doing something rude.

Back in my room, I had the pudding that I always saw in anime and now I see why it's praised - a great jelly-like texture with some firmness and a sweet flavor that doesn't overpower the taste buds. Imagine a premium pudding. The apple juice was just average.

After this, I decided to go to bed early to prepare for the next day, which I had to wake up early for. Day 2's main event would be Tashirojima, otherwise known as one of the main Cat Islands.

#Japan #Japan Trip 2023 #blogging #Sendai

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ev-pierce-writes · 3 years

Text

Doll

Pairing: Bucky Barnes (Winter Soldier) x F!Reader

Words: 7.7K

Rating: Very much 18+

Warnings: P in V, oral (fem receiving), light (consensual) choking, praise, James Buchanan Barnes is a sad boy and only you can make him happy, mutual therapy over past trauma, a couple light spanks, and some sexy sparring

Note: Reader had a run-in with Hydra that gave you invisibility powers. Bucky is tasked with training you. Totally not canon, I just kept the parts I liked. Got the idea from a tiktok but I can't find it anymore oops. I'm thinking of turning it into a series of all the places you can fuck Bucky Barnes at Avengers HQ. Enjoyyyyyy....

---

"Alright, so I'm thinking absolutely the first thing you need is a suit. Because we can't have you sneaking around in clothes that give you away."

Tony Stark and Peter Parker stand before you at Avengers HQ, furiously tossing ideas back and forth, trying to come up with ways to build you the best possible suit. Last night had been...interesting, to say the least.

"Who's that?" Stark had said when you appeared all of a sudden from your room. "Come on Agent Hill, don't tell me you're taking in lost kids nowadays."

Your mother had only laughed, slightly inebriated and feeling loose because of all the drinking that was going on in your penthouse apartment. She was hosting one of those parties where too many superpowers drank too much alcohol and got a little too rowdy. "That's my daughter."

Usually, you stay away from such events, go out with friends, and avoid the house until it's all over. For the past four years, you hadn't even been in the house to need to avoid it. But now you're 22 and a recent college graduate and something about the party was drawing you in so you had emerged from your hideaway to join in the fun.

"Alright, Maria, how'd you manage to keep that one a secret?" Romanov spoke up.

Until this point, you'd remained silent, in shock at the sudden attention a group of superheroes had focused onto you. But you couldn't help yourself from responding now. You'd managed to hide away long enough. It was time to come into the open.

"I'm a ghost," you said jokingly, approaching the couch and stealing the drink your mother had been drinking to take a sip. It was strong and burned on the way down. The group laughed at your words, unaware of how true they really were.

It was then that you'd performed your little trick, the one that only a few of your closest friends had ever seen. You became invisible.

The laughter had immediately stopped. The girl who suddenly appeared out of thin air had disappeared right back into it. They could still tell where you were of course. The glass in your hand remained visible, floating in mid-air, giving away your position. And your clothes were still perceptible, not being able to change with you. But your features were otherwise undetectable, not even a shimmer revealing your face. You took another sip of the drink, liquid disappearing into an invisible mouth.

"I want her. On the team," Stark had said.

And that was it. The start of your superhero career.

"Explain again exactly how this works?" Parker asks.

You sigh and start from the beginning, again. "I can distort the absorption wavelengths of my cells so that the reflected light is in the invisible range, usually infrared."

"And how long can you hold it for?"

"About seven minutes now," you explain. "It's sort of like holding your breath. You can go underwater for a while, and you can practice holding your breath longer and longer, but eventually, you need to come up for air. Eventually, I have to 'recharge.' But I've been working on extending it."

Stark turns to one of the many holograms of his supercomputer, working with Friday to design a brand new suit to accommodate your skills. You're so engrossed in watching his process you don't even notice the shadowy figure appear in the doorway that leads to the training facilities.

"How'd you get these powers? Agent Hill isn't lacking in skill but it certainly isn't supernatural."

You knew Stark's question would come up eventually. It always did. Over time, it became easier to tell the story, but now you really don't feel like explaining fully, so you tell the short version.

"Hydra. When I was seventeen. They used me as a bargaining chip against my mom in a mission gone wrong and decided to experiment on me in the process. Left me with a lot of scars and a lot of therapy. Almost dropped out of school."

You don't remember much from the experience. But enough for it to leave lasting damage.

"Hydra?" a familiar voice asks behind you. Only now do you notice that Barnes is behind you. How long has he been watching?

You remain silent, just like you did the night before when he'd arrived late to the party, unable to speak under his gaze.

You had planned to leave not long after you joined the festivities. But when the elevator doors opened, a pair of blue eyes halted you in your path. James Buchanan Barnes, the Winter Soldier. You'd recognize those eyes anywhere. Crystal clear and icy, freezing you under their gaze. He wore a leather jacket and leather gloves, concealing his metal arm, but you knew it was there, hiding behind the layers.

Barnes had always been the one that caught your eye during your mother's briefings. His transition from the greatest warrior Hydra had to offer, and thus S.H.I.E.L.D.'s greatest enemy, to the trusted companion of Captain America and official Avengers member intrigued you. At first, he had been more of a schoolgirl crush, the little girl grappling with her new powers seeking guidance in someone who didn't even know she existed. But age had not reduced your admiration of him. Barnes' face was hard set in serious determination and his glance barely grazed over you before turning to the rest of the group. He paid you not a single ounce of attention, yet you felt dumbstruck in his presence.

But Bucky had noticed you that night. Noticed you in a way he wanted desperately to hide, so he disallowed his eyes from lingering on you. Who were you and why were you wearing pajamas at a party and how did you make them actually look good?

And not only did he notice you, but he recognized you. He wasn't sure how, but something at the back of his head buried beneath decades of blurred half-memories told him he knew you. It was a stupid thought, though. How could he know you?

From the doorway, his eyes narrow in concern, making you feel smaller than ever beneath him. How is that 5 o'clock shadow so enticing? You just want to run your fingers across--

Stark gestures at Barnes, completely ignoring his comment. "Good, you're here. Our young Agent Hill needs to get started with her training immediately. I want her in the field but she can't be going in inexperienced. Teach her the works."

It's rather bold of Stark to assume you have no combat skills. And to assume you even want to go into the field. But you follow behind Barnes in silence anyway toward the training facilities. It doesn't matter what you know and don't know. He's going to kick your ass anyway.

"Feet wider," he says, coaching you on your swing. His blue eyes have somehow darkened, and along with the faint beard, he looks positively dangerous. "Not too wide."

"I know how to punch, Barnes," you whisper under your breath. He's not meant to hear your words, but he does anyway.

"Oh yeah? Punch me then. Go for it." His voice is challenging in the way that reveals he knows he could block any swing that comes at him. But he wants to see what will happen. Your mention of Hydra loosened a memory in his brain somewhere, and though he can't quite place his finger on it, the memory told him you're anything but the kid he's treating you like. He wants to know what you really have inside you.

Your annoyance gets the best of you. You aim for his face, the way your mother taught you. And she taught you well, teaching you all the self-defense skills you might need moving through the world as a woman. But she did not teach you how to fight super soldiers. That's an entirely different world.

Unsurprisingly, Barnes predicts your move and his metal arm comes up to meet your human one, halting your punch mid-swing. His palm fully engulfs your fist, your knuckles slamming into the metal with a ringing sound.

"Fuck, that hurt," you seethe through your teeth, gripping your hand in pain. And yet, you still smile. You mean for your words to sound irritated, but they betray how much you enjoy getting a swing in. "Didn't have to do me like that, Barnes."

He ignores your pain, though secretly it pleases him to find how much force is truly behind your punch. Nothing, of course, his metal arm can't take, but strong enough. "Language, kid. Go again. And this time, try not to be so obvious."

Despite his advice, it's impossible. He predicts every one of your strikes and counters them with four times as much strength as you possess. You give him everything you have, and nothing lands.

"This would be a lot easier if you let me use my powers."

So far, Barnes has refused to let you fight invisible, not that it would have done you much good without a proper suit. But you're tired and sweaty, your hair falling from its ponytail and sticking to your face, your muscles aching and your heart beating fast. Barnes hasn't even broken a sweat.

"Unless you learn to fight without your powers, they'll do nothing more than level the playing field. You need to be at an advantage if you're going to survive."

Survive. You've done plenty of that already. You want better than survival. Barnes recognizes the look on your face, the one that expresses the desire plainly. He knows the feeling, drifting from one day to the next and wanting more than that.

His voice softens a bit. "We can call it quits for the day. Get some rest. We'll go again tomorrow."

He didn't intend to be so kind. It just sort of happened, drawn out of him by the not-so-innocent girl who still has a lot to learn but can hold her own better than most.

---

Tomorrow. Tomorrow's8 like the day before, 9 am at HQ, wait for Parker to get his ass up the elevator so Stark can begin, get sidetracked by coffee, and then finally return to the task at hand.

"Give this a shot," Stark says, handing you what looks like nothing more than a vaguely human-shaped paper suit. "Not exactly protective, but it's a new technology. Should conform to your abilities."

"You did this overnight?"

"Of course. Get changed."

The suit has little support and definitely no protection. You feel like a fingernail could rip a hole through it if you pull on it wrong, let alone a knife coming at you from an angry enemy. But it's a start. An impressive start. You stare at yourself in the mirror of the bathroom as you shift, the suit shifting along with you.

Back in the training facilities, where you know Stark and Parker will be waiting, you remain in your shifted form. They don't look up as you enter, somehow having not heard you, and instead are engaged in a heated discussion with Barnes about something you don't understand. So you creep up behind Parker, lean in, and whisper into his ear.

"I think it works."

You feel a little bad, but only for a moment. Parker jumps straight out of his skin, screaming a scream you didn't know was possible from the kid. Stark lets out a laugh as you rematerialize, and Barnes even cracks a smile at your prank.

"Yeah, yeah, I'd say so." Parker's voice quivers.

"Well, what do you think?" Stark asks.

"Very thin," you say, aware that much more is visible than you really want. "I feel like it's going to rip at any moment. And there's not a whole lot of support in this area."

You gesture vaguely at your chest, not knowing how best to explain to a group of men that a sports bra is a necessity for fighting, but knowing you have to make them aware all the same. You can feel Barnes' eyes on you, a little less polite than the others, and you find you like the way he eyes you up, a bit like a puzzle to be solved or a strategy to be devised.

"Right, right, I'll get on that. Only a prototype anyway," Stark responds nervously. "Back to work, Parker. Hill, Barnes, back to training."

Bucky tries his best not to picture what you might look like without that suit, but it leaves little to the imagination as you saunter away to change again.

And so the days move forward. You've never before been so busy or exhausted in your life. You just graduated college, which is a feat in itself, but all the training, all the work, keeps you on your toes so that by the end of the day, both your brain and your body are tired.

Still, you improve and get better at sparring Barnes, even taking him down a couple of times on your own, though you suspect he's going easy on you.

"Again." Barnes is already on his feet and helping you to yours. Today the sparring room is particularly warm, and you've long forgone your sweats for shorts and a sports bra. Barnes has lost the shirt as well, and his chest glistens with sweat beneath the fluorescent lights. Maybe it's the heat or maybe it's him, but the whole thing feels a bit dreamlike. Here you are, sparring with a man who could take you to the ground with one arm alone, and he's letting you kick his ass every once in a while.

But there's no way you can do it again. You feel destroyed by all the slamming onto the mat.

Barnes is doing his best not to be distracted as well, but those tight shorts and the top that reveals your midriff have to be on purpose. It's easy to admit to himself that he likes you, might even be attracted to you. You fight hard and relentlessly, rising to every one of his challenges and not backing down even when you're tired. You've already come a long way since that first encounter, and Barnes has come to look forward to the two hours a day you spend together in the gym. He had tried to tell himself it was the fun of having a new sparring partner, but in truth, he knows it's the determined glint in your eyes, the way you bounce on your feet in excited anticipation of the fight, the way you collapse on the mat after a hard session, chest heaving deep breaths in and out. But what he likes most is your heated gaze when he pins you to the ground, or even better, you pin him.

"Knock me down one more time and you can be done," he challenges. The familiar determination returns, though a flicker of doubt remains behind your eyes. He can tell you need encouragement. "Remember to use your size to your advantage. Don't let me get ahead of you. Keep me guessing."

You do your best. You really do. You hold your own for almost two minutes, but it's obvious you're only barely staying ahead of him. As soon as you falter, Barnes has you flat on your back on the mat without much resistance, immobilized by a knee on your thighs and his metal arm trapping your hands over your head. His free hand plants by your head and holds him up to prevent him from actually hurting you.

You gasp underneath him, trying to disguise the weird flicker of desire with breathlessness. He looks good from down here, all sweaty and dark and serious. But you're also a bit too tired to care. "I'm out, Barnes. Let me go."

Let me go. Please.

And that's when the memory returns. The full, real memory, the one that has been tickling the edges of his brain since he first saw you. You, a kid, his mission. Kidnap, don't kill. A small voice, your voice, begging. Please, let me go. What has he done?

"Fuck," he curses under his breath, standing up quickly.

"Language, Barnes," you say teasingly. But he doesn't laugh, simply exits the sparring room, abruptly leaving you, speechless and alone on the floor. What just happened?

After a moment of confused silence on the mat, you brush it off and stand, heading to your room for a shower. Stark offered you a place to stay at HQ, and you happily agreed. Though you loved being back with your mother after four years away at college, you cherish your independence. A room at HQ offered you just that.

A nice shower would certainly make you feel better after that confusing interaction. You pull on your robe and shower shoes, leaving your clothes behind so as to carry one less thing. But as you pass down the hall toward the showers, you can hear Barnes' voice drift through the slightly open door to his room.

"I remembered," he says. "It was her. I'm the reason she's--" He cuts off, appearing to be interrupted by whoever he's talking to on the phone. You pause by the open door.

"I know that's not me anymore but I'm still responsible," he continues. "I have to tell her."

Again a pause. By now it's apparent he's talking about you.

"No, Steve, we aren't a team. We aren't partners. I'm helping Tony out. I don't care if she doesn't want to work with me anymore, this is part of my redemption. I have to tell her."

The conversation seems over. You rush to the showers, not wanting Barnes to realize you were listening the whole time. Apologize, he said. Apologize for what? You've known him for a whole of four days and he's been nothing but polite to you. Cold, at first, but he warms upon acquaintance. And then he's downright sweet.

So sweet, you realize, for someone so damaged. He has every right to hate the world, and though he walks through it with a healthy dose of cynicism, he never lets that cynicism touch you. If anything, he's outright positive around you, an undeserving brat. A kid, really, though you don't like when he calls you that. You know you can be naive, positive on the verge of artificiality, and yet he never tries to burst your bubble. In fact, he seems to relish it.

The shower feels nice, but it does nothing to assuage your fears. Maybe it's you who has done something wrong? Now you're spiraling. You have to find out what's going on or it's going to drive you crazy.

You know what you have to do. You have just about seven minutes of invisibility before your shifting gives out. In those seven minutes, you can duck from the showers, sneak into Barnes' room, snoop around, and make it back to the showers unseen. Plenty of time. But you have to go nude. Now would be a great time for the suit, but no such luck. Naked it is.

Out in the hallway, all is quiet. Barnes' door is still ajar, but when you peek your head in, the room is empty.

Easy.

Where to start? His phone is a dead end, being one of those ancient flipping kinds rather than a new, high-tech smartphone. He has few personal belongings, the bed is made perfectly, and his closet contains only clothes.

The drawers of the nightstand are empty. Or nearly empty. At the back of the top drawer is unceremoniously shoved a small booklet with a pen stuck between the pages. It's worn and supple, as though held a thousand times and read a thousand more. You flip through, finding a list of names, some crossed out, others not. Your name does not appear, but something about the list tells you these are not ordinary names. These are the names of his victims, people Barnes hurt as the Winter Soldier. Your heart aches and your stomach clenches, the reminder of his past jarring against the kind demeanor you've come to know. But deep down, you know this isn't him, know he's a good man, despite it all.

You know better than most the first-hand horrors of Hydra's super-soldier experiments. Of anyone, you can relate best to the experience Barnes has been through. Your memories of that long week are blurry, but the pain remains, forever seared into your mind. You can only imagine a lifetime of that pain.

The sound of the door opening jolts you from your reverie and you close the drawer quickly. But you soon realize your mistake. Barnes would know he left the door open, would know exactly how he placed his book in the drawer, would recognize something was off. Unfortunately, you're right.

"Hello?" he calls into the darkening room. The evening is coming on fast and the sun dims to barely glimmer, casting the space in shadow despite the large windows on the south wall.

Bucky knows something is off the moment he finds your room unoccupied, having gone there with the express purpose of confronting you about his actions earlier in the afternoon. And though he has no way of truly knowing, he suspects you are now here, in this room with him, invisible to his gaze. Bucky shuts the door behind him and waits.

You're trapped. You don't have long before your powers give out; already the suffocating feeling that begs you to take a breath is coming on. And Barnes has closed the door, effectively sealing you in, as you can't open it without him knowing for sure that you're here. On top of that, you're clothingless. You've run out of options and Barnes seems to sense this. So, he waits, drawing out the moment of tension, building the suspense.

"I know you're here," he says finally, his voice soft and barely audible. "You can't hide that well. Next time, dry your feet off before you go leaving wet footprints all over the place."

Oops.

"I--" you begin, and immediately Barnes' eyes snap to where your voice originates from. "I'm sorry. I overheard your conversation with Rogers. I shouldn't have but I know it was about me."

Barnes sighs, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Yeah, you're right. I have some things to explain. Though I'd much prefer talking to you if I could see you."

You hesitate. "Only a slight problem there. I'm not wearing any clothes."

If it had been any lighter in the room you would have seen Barnes blush. Instead, you watch him pull his shirt over his head. He hands it to you blindly, the shirt off his own back, soft with wear and long enough to cover the tops of your thighs. It smells of him, salty with sweat and sweet with the scent you've come to recognize only as him. You shrug it on and shift back.

"I'm sorry," you say again, having trouble concentrating with Barnes' bare chest at your eye level. Is that an old bullet wound on his shoulder? The reminder of a knife across his stomach? You can't look away, even at the seam where man meets metal.

Barnes shakes his head. "No, I should be the one apologizing."

He pauses for a moment and tries to begin several times before finally forming a complete sentence.

"It's my fault you're like this, that Hydra tested on you. It was me who kidnapped you, it was me who followed orders, it was me who completed the mission and got you hurt. And I'm so sorry."

You're so frozen in shock that the absurdity of the situation doesn't even register. There's nothing under this shirt, no underwear, no pants, no bra. And here you are standing in the bedroom of your greatest inspiration, listening to him apologize for being the one that facilitated your kidnapping, for being responsible for all the injury, the pain, the nightmares, the isolation, the...

It all comes flooding back, the things you had forgotten, or simply chose to not remember, and one of those things is his face.

You thought you'd dealt with impact. So many hours with a therapist, and you realize all you did was suppress the feelings, not confront them. And then you break, all the anger and sadness and frustration flowing from you at once.

"You piece of shit." Your voice begins as a whisper but soon amplifies nearly to a shout. "You monster, you bastard, how could you? How could you?"

All this time you forgave him for the damage he'd done, excused it as brainwashing and manipulation from Hydra. But now that it's you he's involved, you have somewhere to direct your anger, and you take it out as a shove straight to his chest.

He didn't expect that one. The words he understood. He accepted those, accepted that you would hate him forever. But then you're pushing and hitting him with all your force. Barnes could fight back, could hold his ground. But you need this, so he lets you shove him into the wall with a newfound strength. Finally against the wall, with nowhere left to go, you turn to pummelling his chest with your fists, repeating the words over and over, how could you, how could you, how could you.

For a moment, he lets it happen. But eventually, Barnes reacts, grabbing your wrists and holding them to his chest in an attempt to calm the fury that rages inside you. Surprisingly, at his touch, you still, slumping against him once the anger is replaced with nothing but sadness. That anger, one you never truly realized you'd harbored since your capture, bled from you all at once, leaving you exhausted.

You don't notice you're crying until a soft thumb wipes a tear from your cheek. Barnes releases your hands and wraps his arms around your sobbing body, pulling you close. "I'm so sorry," he repeats in your ear, his words a whisper against the rage inside your head.

Is it hours, or only minutes, standing like that, wrapped up in him, his skin so soft against your cheek? Time has ceased to exist, melting into the nighttime that encompasses the room in near pitch-black darkness. Your breath calms, your heart rate slows, the tears dry. He's only a man, a broken, misplaced, lost man. But he's also impossibly kind to you, caring enough to train you day after day, to pick you up when you fall down, to ensure you're happy here at all times. That's the man you know and rest your cheek against and seek out for comfort in this moment, despite him being the reason for your anger. But he's not truly the reason for your anger, only an easy outlet standing right before you.

This is not how Bucky had expected this to go. Perhaps to never see you again, yes. But to hold you in his arms, certainly not. And not just hold you, but comfort you. It surprises him how much he finds he likes it. And he can't ignore the fact that you're here in his room, wearing his shirt and only his shirt. He doesn't try anything improprietous, just wraps his arms around your waist, but it's not lost on him that your supple chest is pressed against him and the delicious scent from your still wet hair is filling his brain with a flowery cloud. His stomach clenches at the thought of burying his face in that smell for the rest of the night but he pushes it aside. That's not why you're here. That's not what you want.

But your next words surprise him. You pull slightly away, tilting your splotchy face upward towards his to look him in the eye. You take a ragged breath and speak.

"I forgive you."

Bucky is taken aback. That's not why he made this confession, not to seek your forgiveness. "You don't have to do that."

"I know. But I do. And I know you think I'm just a kid--"

Barnes lets out a short laugh, cutting you off immediately. "Jesus Christ, that's not true. You're not a kid. You're smart and strong and capable. And you've seen the ugly world for its true self and choose to remain good and happy all the same. I'm not like that and that makes you wiser than I'll ever be."

He takes a deep breath, unsure if he should admit to the feelings he desperately wants to express to you. The way you're looking at him, with a mixture of hesitation and admiration, makes the words tumble from his mouth without a second thought.

"But somehow being around you makes me want to be good again. Not for my sake, but for yours."

"James, I--" You've never used his first name before, but it falls deliciously from your lips, the sound of it nearly distracting him from the finger you run across the stubble on the cleft of his chin. Nearly. He captures that hand in his own, holding it there against his face.

"You don't have to forgive me. I don't deserve it," he repeats, eyes falling shut to the feeling of your thumb pressed to the corner of his lips. He still holds you close, the other arm wrapping tight around you, and though verbally he rejected the comfort your warmth offered, his body says otherwise, desperate for the acceptance his brain refuses to give into.

"Stop punishing yourself," you whisper. For a moment, he almost feels that he could.

And when your lips find his, soft and delicate, he forgets why you're even here in the first place, forgets his guilt and your anger, forgets even to react.

His lack of response has you pulling away, worried you've done something wrong, but then he's chasing your lips with his own, leaning forward to meet you halfway, gathering you impossibly tighter to his chest. He pauses, mouth mere centimeters from yours, eyes still shut, a deep breath heaving from his chest. He wants more, wants to kiss you again in all the places that count, but he can't quite yet.

"What was that for?" The question's not an accusatory one but simply curious. Have you always looked at him in this light since day one? Has he just not noticed?

"Are you blind, Barnes?"

He laughs and shakes his head. "None of that last name shit, doll, we've moved on to a first-name basis."

But your words are enough to surge him forward, this time capturing your lips in a dominating kiss that leaves you gasping for air. He takes advantage of your open mouth and presses his tongue to yours, seeking to fill his soul with your all-consuming warmth, to wrap it around him like a cocoon of your scent. His fingers slide down your back and slip under the shirt you wear, his shirt, grasping at the bare skin of your ass, filling his hands with your supple flesh.

You moan softly under his touch, relishing in the feeling of being encompassed by someone so large and so strong. The vibranium arm, which you expected to be harshly indelicate against your relative fragility, caresses you with the same gentility of the other. The intense contact sends your heart racing like it did all the times you were pinned below him on the sparring mat. Will he pin you like that in bed? Hold you down while he fucks you within an inch of your life?

The thought rouses a heat between your legs and stirs butterflies in your tummy. You don't even know if that's where this is going, but it invades your brain anyways. You're sure Barnes can feel your racing pulse beneath his lips when he kisses your neck, sending your nerves haywire as he creeps toward the neckline of your shirt. He inhales your scent, the hot air of his breath fanning your cool skin.

Everything about this is sloppy, the wet kisses dragged across your skin, his tongue tangled with yours, your fingers tugging at the hair that brushes the nape of his neck. Even his hips against yours are messy and rough, the heat of him leaving your core feeling slick, the wetness of it rubbing between your naked thighs. And then Barnes is sliding his hands back up your body, this time under your shirt, and tugging it over your head, his lips leaving your skin just long enough to toss the item to the ground.

You expect him to keep surging forward, to lift you in his arms and take you to bed like you want him to. But he pauses instead, hands cradling the back of your head, his eyes staring intensely into yours. Or you think he's staring into your eyes.

"Are you okay? Is this okay?" His voice is full of concern but raspy with arousal all the same.

"Yes, James, yes, I need more."

"Well, I would, it's just that you've disappeared on me again." One look at your hands and you know he was looking right through you, not at you. The swirl of emotions--pleasure, arousal, timidity even--sent you shifting without your knowledge. You can't help but laugh.

"Let me see you, doll," he groans, sounding exasperated that he can't rake his gaze across your naked flesh or find all the places he wants to touch you because they're invisible.

"You first."

A heated understanding lights up his eyes, still vibrant in the darkness of the room. Slowly, he releases his grip on you, relenting to not knowing where you are in space. You take an invisible step back to get a better view of the specimen before you. With one hand, he unbuckles his belt, sliding the leather from his pants and dropping it to the floor with a thunk. And then his pants are gone and he's left in his boxers, tight against the bulging muscles of his thighs.

And other bulging things. He doesn't hide his attraction to you. But still, you do not reappear.

Bucky begins to worry you're never going to, that maybe he's taken things too for. But then, a soft finger trails across his neck and he jerks in surprise. You're tracing the plain of his chest with a feather-light touch, dipping into the indent between his collarbones, feeling along the puckered scar of a bullet wound and the long slice of a knife. He feels healed beneath your touch, but it's not enough to satisfy the insatiable hunger building in the tightness of his groin. This entire evening has been a long, drawn-out, build-up of tension, and if he doesn't release it soon, it will snap like an overstretched rubber band.

He makes his move.

Apparently, Bucky's senses are just as perceptive here as they are on the sparring mat. His metal hand shoots up and wraps around the wrist of the hand on his chest, despite being unable to see it. The other reaches out and grapples at your invisible body in the dark, somehow finding your waist. He doesn't need to see you to manage to flip you around and press your back against his chest. In your surprise, your invisibility falters, and you flicker out of your shifted form with a flustered squeak, one hand suddenly pinned between your back and Bucky's rock-hard chest.

He holds on with an iron grip and walks you toward the bed, holding you up to prevent you from tripping in your ruffled state.

"You're taking too long, doll," he mumbles into your ear, and you feel his chest rumble with the vibrations. Your free hand flies to the one around your waist, which is slowly creeping upward toward your breast to twist at the sensitive nipple. "I know you like it when I pin you on the sparring floor. I can see it in your eyes. I'll take you like that right now if you give me the word."

Fuck, you want nothing more but you can't breathe enough to get the words out, opting for nodding vigorously instead. But Bucky wants words, gently prodding you forward to get a verbal commitment out of you. He will never take you against your will again. So you manage a long, drawn-out please and suddenly you're face-first in the sheets, bent halfway at the waist, your ass grinding against the delicious bulge pressed against your aching cunt. It pleases you that he has been thinking the same wicked thoughts as you when he slams you to the mat over and over again in training.

Bucky pulls your arm out from underneath you, joining it with the other and holding them together with his metal fist at your lower back, forcing your chest further into the mattress and your ass higher in the air. There's no way for you to move, no matter how hard you try. But you don't try, won't try. Bucky has you right where you want to be.

"Tell me if it's too much," he murmurs in your ear and you breathe an affirmation. His teeth nibble suddenly at your ear lobe and you squirm, the sensation of his breath fanning your skin sending goosebumps along the trail of kisses he leaves down your spine. Somehow, you know this is only the calm before the storm, the gentle caresses of a man who's about to rearrange every organ in your body, all the way up to your heart if you aren't careful.

It doesn't matter to you that it's pitch black in the room; you wouldn't have been able to see anything with your face shoved into the comforter, even if the lights were on. But Bucky's starting to regret having left the lights off, wishing he could better see the curve of your hips, the swell of your thighs, or the bloom of his handprint on your ass when his hand comes down with a smack. He resigns to being satisfied by the mewling gasp that escapes your lips and your soft pleas to Do it again, harder.

So he does. Smack.

And then he's sinking to his knees and you can tell because he leaves a wet stripe of skin with his tongue over the globe of your ass and blows a shock of cool air across the rawness of your skin. He replaces the sting of his hand with the bite of his teeth and then a kiss to soothe you again. The rollercoaster of sensations has you moaning against the mattress and rocking your hips toward his face and Barnes chuckles at your movement, your actions giving away the desperation you feel to have his tongue move to more sensitive places.

He is happy to oblige. You hadn't even noticed you'd been squeezing your thighs together until he slid a hand up between them, forcing them apart. It's a blessing your legs aren't doing any work to keep you up anymore because they feel like jelly under his touch. The hand between your thighs moves higher still until you feel his thumb pressed to your sensitive clit, warm and twitching with anticipation, desire coursing through your veins and dripping from your wet cunt. Your ears barely register that he's speaking, the blood is pumping so hard in your ears, but his words are exalting.

"Look at you, so wet for me." The hand around your wrists tightens just slightly. You are surprised by the extreme control he has over the cool metal fingers, and you almost wish he'd use those on you instead. And then he says, "you like it, don't you, doll, being at my mercy," and you forget all about the arm and decide it doesn't matter what hand presses down with a gentle strength on your clit as long as he doesn't stop. And he doesn't. Doesn't move, doesn't flinch or twitch or falter, just holds steady until your gasping mewls die down just enough for you to say, "yes, all for you, all for you, all..."

With those words, his thumb slips, between your slick folds into your pussy, finding the soft spongy flesh and pressing down again and you cry out with a careening moan that tapers off into a silent sob. He's taking his time, picking you apart, pulling at the laces that bind you together, and undoing them to release the tension he knows you harbor. But what about him? Is it not torture for him?

You breathe in a rough gasp, enough to squeak out a few more words. "I thought we were going too slow for you."

He laughs, he actually laughs, at your words, but relents.

"I hear you, doll."

I hear you. Oh wow. His tongue replaces his finger and you lose all coherence, able only to blubber some iteration of his name as the smooth muscle traces circles around your clit, finally allowing your orgasm to build with a steady contraction in your pelvis. Barnes moans between your legs like he's never tasted chocolate or buttercream or any of those other wondrous flavors and there's only you. And that moan sends you overboard, the vibrations diffusing down your legs and you tremble into your first orgasm. Your first orgasm.

He keeps going, riding out the waves of your high until you're crying that it's too much, James, too much and he pulls his tongue away from your oversensitized clit only to move down your legs. He's working you up again, teasing the smooth skin of your inner thigh with gentle nips and kisses until your body is craving release again, your cunt clenching around nothing but the memory of his mouth. He is deliberate in his ministrations, methodical in the way he must be with his missions. The flood of your first orgasm has dripped steadily down your thigh and he cleans you with his tongue, dragging upward along the sticky trail of your musky release until his tongue makes contact again and he pulls an orgasm from your desperate body once more.

He still hasn't released your arms.

"You know how long I've wanted to do this?" he groans, as you shudder again into the pleasure of his touch. He kisses back up the length of your spine while you twitch under him, his free hand dragging shock wave after shock wave from your cunt. It strikes you that this man is truly 106, not 26 like his body suggests, and you absentmindedly wonder if that's why he's so good at it, that he's had years to practice. And then his cock is pressing against your folds and you forget the notion halfway through thinking it. "You're so good to me doll, so good for opening up for me. Wanna feel your tight pussy around me."

You push backward, or do your best to without the employment of your arms, wanting desperately to feel him inside you. He is warm and all-encompassing and part of you thinks his cock spilling his seed inside of you would complete you like nothing else. But you know that's a bad idea and you can hear him already unwrapping a condom (where did he get that from?) and your body trembles with the anticipation. You haven't even seen him yet but you know he must be big, the way he grunts when the tip of his erection teases your entrance.

When he enters you it isn't gentle like the stroke of his tongue. It splits you open with a rough thrust, the laces of your heart fully undone and releasing you from their confinement. You choke on your own air.

And then he's releasing your arms, and before you can react, Barnes has you lifted, your back to his chest, your knees shoved roughly into the mattress so he can stand and fuck you from behind. The metal arm finds your neck and forces your head back, his lips dragging hot against your soft skin and muttering filthy praise into your ear, his hand gently on your throat to hold you there. Your hands fly to his, not to pull him away, but to convince him to squeeze, just a little bit harder. The pressure is grounding, and then the hand around your waist is trailing toward the bud of your clit and rubbing in urgent circles and you let out a silent gasp as he thrusts into you at a pace astounding for the position you're in.

You come hard, over his hand, around his cock, and for the first time Barnes falters, stunned by the intensity with which you clamp around him and if he hadn't made you come two times already he might have held out a bit longer to pull another one of those stunning orgasms from your slick cunt. But you're sagging, using him to hold you up against the exhaustion of repeated abuse so he releases, riding the wave of pleasure you started. Bucky groans out your name, surprising you with the gentleness of it on his tongue despite the rough hand around your neck.

When he releases you softly back onto the bed, you sink heavily into the mattress, feeling high on pleasure and drunk on his hands. He pulls away and shuffles around the room, and if you had had any energy left you might have complained at the loss of him but as it sits nothing will rouse you from the intense desire to simply fall asleep.

He continues to move about and then... the lights go on? You groan at the harsh treatment of your eyes as they adjust. But Barnes returns and pulls you against him and apologizes for the rude awakening.

"Sorry, doll," he mutters. "Wanted to get a better look at you." His fingers glide along your back and his face nuzzles into the top of your head, breathing into your hair as you press your forehead into his chest. Despite being exhausted himself he trails his hands all over your body, exploring the side of you that has been shoved into the sheets for the better part of the evening. You let him, although your nerves feel fried and oversensitive to touch.

"Watch what you do with those hands," you giggle as his fingertips brush over a nipple, "unless you're ready to go again."

"Already looking forward to next time?"

"You wish," you tease, but already you know for certain that there will be a next time.

#bucky barns x reader #bucky barnes #winter solider fanfiction #bucky barnes smut #winter solider smut #definitely not canon #i refuse to believe steve went back in time for some 1940s kitty kat and left his best friend behind #tony and nat are alive bc they are the only truly valuable characters #sebastian stan #also youre the daughter of agent hill #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #winter soldier #wEiNeR sOlDiEr

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