#here goes everything

[seaside-writings]

Just applied for a new job, so if it's not too much to ask could you all just say a little prayer for me, cross your fingers for me, and wish me luck.

[labrynthesis-moved]

moving to a new blog (long post under cut)

I don't really need to explain as to why I am moving, but it is something I wanna get off my chest.

People who knew me from my previous blog (and in this blog too tbh) knows how much I hate/despise/loathe Endgame. I've spent months venting about that hate with a burning (and boiling) passion.

But I am very tired.

And frankly, quite sad with what happened to the fandom.

I haven't been with the fandom very long. Just about a year and a half. But prior to Endgame, I can say that I enjoyed being in it. I can even say that joining the fandom was one of the best moments of my life. I get to be around people who share the same love and passion over characters and ships as much as I do.

Then Endgame happened.

It devastated the fandom. Not only the Stucky fandom, but various fandoms within the MCU. We were all angry, frustrated, disappointed, and felt so many other emotions we can associate to unhappiness.

We were all unhappy for various reasons, and we had every right to feel that way!

Not even as shippers, but as people who love the characters greatly. Characters, who we as fans, identified with/admired/aspired to be/cared for/etc.Or even as fans of the MCU in general.

The fandom came together. Comforted each other. Made new content to make each other happy. 

But over time, I witnessed ugly truths about some parts of the fandom come out one by one. Truths I have been desperately denying that exists for a time. (I won't state them anymore. I’m not looking for a fight.)

It made me felt unsafe in the fandom I am in. And it broke me even more than Endgame did.

Everyone has their own pace in recovering from something so disappointing. This is something I understand greatly. There are days when I can say I am already okay. Then within the same day, I will feel so much anger, sadness and grief about what happened that I’d have a hard time doing anything but cry or lie down because I'm tired and angry.

But I don't wanna associate something that I enjoy and love so much with so much hate and negativity to the point that I don’t think it’s justifiable anymore.

I acknowledge that I have contributed to the chaos as well. I can’t say I regret it since I met new friends through it. I also know that it was a process I had to go through to recover. However, I am sorry to anyone who got hurt because of it.

I am now drawing a line. For my own well-being, and for those who are as tired as I am about the chaos. For those who just wanna enjoy what they love again.

I will be over at @lyricayed starting on October for a new environment and fresh start. This was also the reason why I left my old blog. But I guess I wasn't ready to move past the hate when I did, so it still happened on this blog. And this is something I won't let myself repeat on the new blog. I don’t wanna lose sight of who I am anymore. 

I still and will always hate Endgame, but I won’t talk about the movie anymore in general. The new blog will be an anti/hate-free zone.

I would love to follow blogs who love Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes both as individuals and as a relationship (platonic/romantic/etc.) So if you are one, I hope to get to meet you there and bond over stuff within and even beyond the MCU (especially since I won’t blog about future MCU projects post-Endgame)

To the friends I've met in the fandom, I love you all! Our friendship grew beyond fandom-related stuff and I hope it will continue to grow. See you there <3

To the Stucky fandom (former and current members), thank you! We’ve comforted each other through dark times, but I want to move past the dark. I hope we find the kind of love we all once shared, no matter the fandom we are in or end up in <3

[rustandwhiskey]

G-d. Hashem. Shechinah.

Give me what I need.

[clowns-on-parade]

I have a very cursed idea for a drabble and on god, I’m gonna write it

I’m not sure if I should share it privately bc it’s like... cursed cursed.

As cursed as I can get.

Not “vc at 2:19 am cursed” I can’t get to that level

But it’s cursed.

[vanities-redemption]

❤

[probablypracticing]

Well, here goes.

Hey guys! It’s currently 1:36 am and I have all my worst best ideas around this hour, so here goes! I figure it’s time to really get serious about language learning, so I’m starting here and now to get with it! I’ve been silent in the langblr community for a while, but I love the camaraderie and support that everyone gives to everyone, so here goes, jumping right in and joining the family! 

I’m a native English speaker (lol that was easy) but I’m C1 level in Spanish, and currently studying Italian and German (with a little bit of Norwegian on the side). I love all languages, so please feel free to follow and talk to me about your language/languages in general! If you have any questions for me please feel free to ask and I hope to get to know y’all soon!

[cassieraider]

Melts in your mouth, not your hand...

Summary: A first meeting with the Winchester boys

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Reader, Reader’s Family, John Winchester

A/N: This was written for @impala-dreamer‘s Titles are Hard Challenge.  @trexrambling is an awesome Beta, who I threw this at last minute, and who made it so much better.  This story makes sense on it’s own, but there are a few other parts in the works. Oops.

Warnings: Road tripping with an obnoxious child, sick toddler, fist fight, grumpy parents...are these even trigger worthy?

1988

“Why do we have to be in the car all the time?  Where are we going?  When will we be there?”

“Oh, for the love of…” My daddy swerved the boat of a car over two lanes, causing me to hold onto the door and three year old AJ’s car seat to rock.  That was enough to wake her up and start her waterworks all over again.  Why did she always have to be crying?

“What are we doing, Daddy?  Why are we here?  What’s a Whaal Maarrtt?  Mum, what’s wrong with AJ?”  Daddy just opened his door, stepped out, and closed it.  He didn’t make a move to open any of the back doors, just leaned his back against the car.  Mum came round and unbuckled AJ, feeling her forehead as she lifted her out of her seat.

“Her fever’s spiking again, Dave.  We need to get her out of this damn heat.”  I had been about to whine about my door not being open, but swallowed it.  My mum never swore.  Something was wrong.  “Y/N needs to stretch her legs, too.  Let’s go into the Walmart, stop by the pharmacy for some Tylenol, and let Y/N run some of this energy off.  That should help all of us until we get to Des Moine.”

“Which should be this evening, if the traffic holds.” Dad came around the car to my side and finally pulled my door open.  I was halfway across the parking lot before Dad’s bellow froze me in place.

“Y/N Y/M/N, you will wait.”  I knew he meant it.  My daddy, a shift worker, was a kind man, but a bear all the same.  I didn’t cross him, ever.  I waited impatiently, skipping in place until the super old slow people reached me.  Daddy took my hand, and I made a valiant attempt to dislocate his shoulder.

“Are there toys?  Can I have a book?  Can I have two?  What’s a Whaal-Maarrt?” I asked again, sounding out the word, proud of myself that, at seven, I could read while my dopey little sister continued to sniff into Mum’s shoulder.  Little sisters were so gross.

“It’s a store.  We’ll see about the buying; be good and maybe.” I knew what maybe meant; I had to be just right if I wanted anything.  I held Daddy’s hand tight and looked in awe as we walked in under the big blue banner.  This was the biggest store I’d ever been in; surely there would be toys and books.

AJ started fussing again, and Daddy let go of my hand to take her from Mum.  They walked down the aisle towards the medicine stuff.  I tried to follow, I really did, but there was no fighting the pull of the toy section. I could read that sign for sure.  Mum and Daddy didn’t notice as I got further and further behind, then ducked behind the row of bikes. The row behind me was full of all the Barbies in the world, but all I could see were the shelves and shelves of books.  Heaven on Earth.

I slowly scanned the titles.  I wrinkled my nose at the old lady books with the naked people on them and skipped over the books made of cardboard for babies like AJ.  There, right at the back, was a Babysitter’s Club novel, one that hadn’t been in the Scholastic book order yet.  I grabbed it with a happy dance and opened it, starting to read while I walked.  I fully intended to return to my mum and daddy.  I walked and read, seemingly forever, but my parents weren’t around any of the corners.  

Growing tired of walking, I curled up on a cushy lounge chair under a tent thing near some barbeques.  I kept reading, my eyes growing heavy.  I kicked my jelly sandals off and was laying my head down on the chair when I heard the whisper.

“Sammy, you have to stay with me.  Dad said so.”

“I just want to look at the books, Dean.  Can’t you come find me there?”

“Dad said stay with me.  You’re too little, Sammy.”

“Am not! I’m eight, and it’s Sam.  Not Sammy.”

“Dad said no.”

“I don’t care!”

“Don’t you run away from me, Sammy!”  A gross boy noise followed that almost whisper, and a flash of dark brown hair and skinny limbs shot past my hiding place.  A larger shape followed, tackling the younger boy to the ground.  “Don’t you run!”

“Let me go, Dean!”  A fist connected with a jaw, too quickly for me to see who earned that point.

“Dad said no!  You have to…”

“Hey, leave him alone.”  I wasn’t sure what I was hoping to accomplish, but this Sammy kid was little.  I was completely ignored.  Words weren’t going to work.

“I said, leave him alone!” Without waiting to see if I was heard, I jumped the bigger kid and held on for all I was worth.  

I overestimated my worth. Suddenly, I was out of breath, lying on the floor, with pain radiating through my skull.  Tears sprang to my eyes as I looked up into two pairs of confused eyes.  I pushed myself up sitting, scrambling away from the boys.

“Hey, whoa.  Are you okay?”  the younger boy, Sammy, Sam, asked.  I shook my head, making it ache more.  Tears escaped, rolling down my cheeks.

“You shouldn’t jump into a fight you can’t win.”  Sammy glared at his brother, but Dean didn’t change his tone.  “Who are you, anyway?”  I just cried harder.  Sammy elbowed Dean and looked at him.  Through my tears, I watched as the two boys had an entire conversation without saying a word.  Dean ran his hands through his hair and sighed.

“Look, don’t cry.  Here, have some of these.” Dean pressed something hard and small into my palm.  I looked down and sniffed.

“M & M’s?” I lifted one to my mouth, savouring the taste.

“Melts in your mouth…”

“Not your hand.” I giggled as I completed Dean’s sentence for him.

“Yeah, do you like them?”  I nodded, wiping my cheeks with the back of my other hand.  

“If you stop crying, you can have the whole bag.  Can you do that?”  Dean offered me the bag while Sammy looked on.  I nodded again.  He handed me the bag and offered me his hand.  I took the candy, but stood up on my own.  It was bad enough I had been crying.  I didn’t want to look like more of a sissy.

“Sorry I hurt you.”  

“Sorry I jumped on you.” Dean and I spoke together.  “S’ok.”  Again.  That was annoying.  Dean smirked.

“Do you think you’re funny?”  My attitude was coming back, chocolate fueled.

“I think I’m adorable.”  Dean grinned, and I rolled my eyes. “You’re okay now.”

“She might be, but I think we’re dead, Dean,” Sammy grabbed Dean’s sleeve. The three of us turned to see a tall, angry man stalking towards us.  Dean straightened up while Sammy gulped.  

“Dean, Sam!  Get over here!” “Y/N Y/M/N, there you are!”

“See you around, Y/N.” Dean pulled his brother towards what must be their daddy.  I felt my daddy’s hand on my shoulder.

“Bye, Dean.  Bye, Sammy,”  I called as I was firmly escorted out of the store, into the car, and back onto the highway, all without my book.

[magnificentgoldenking-a-blog]

So I am finally going to experiment with something I have been wanting to for years but never really got the gumption to try.

I am opening commission slots for short written pieces. As this is an experiment just to see if I can get into the habit of doing it I’ll be charging thus:

$10 for a 1,000 to 2,000 word scene.

If I can pull this off, I’ll add other options and play around with changes and such. But for now, that’s how it stands. If you’re interested, you can get in touch with me via discord of course or through IM if you don’t have my discord.