#i live in america so it’s common for people to have one or more jobs while being a full time student

[superiorsturgeon]

out of curiosity, why do you like sturgeons so much?

A chance to info dump about my favorite fish…?!

I grew up in the Great Lakes area of North America, where fishing is pretty popular but everyone knows that fish populations aren’t anything like “the good old days” when people took out huge numbers of fish while messing up their spawning sites. I got pretty into fishing when I found out that I could catch bluegill in the surrounding farm ponds, and once in a while my family took me to an isolated fishing cabin for vacation, but for years I never encountered a wild fish bigger than a kilogram or two.

BUT THEN…

I found out about sturgeon! They were HUGE fish that had once lived in the rivers and lakes all around my home, and better yet, fish almost exactly like modern sturgeon had existed all the way back in the Cretaceous period alongside the dinosaurs, and they STILL EXIST TODAY!!! The fact that small numbers of these huge dinosaur fish still existed made them seem almost like a real-life lake monster/cryptid, except that we had proof of their existence!

Furthermore, there’s just nothing else like them. Sturgeon get big. Like, REALLY big. The record for the largest sturgeon was almost 11 meters/24 feet long, which is colossal for freshwater animals. They have armor plates of bone running down their sides, and at the same time they don’t have bony skeletons. They also have a crazy mouth structure, which allows them to actually pop their jaws out like a tube and suck up food. And on top of all of this, the adults are absolute tanks. I’ve seen skin nearly 8mm thick, and it’s so tough that people make leather out of it, and they occasionally lose fins or even entire gill plates and just keep on swimming! (I found out about that last one when I tried to wrestle a big female out of a river and my hand went straight into her gills. She didn’t seem that bothered by it!)

For a long time I filed sturgeon along with Alligator Gar, Giant Mekong catfish, and Yangtze paddlefish as a semi-legendary fish that may still exist, but I was never going to see except possibly in an aquarium, until I enrolled in graduate school. For those unfamiliar with grad school in the US, it typically involves both high-level classes as well as an independent research project the student designs and carries out with help from an experienced professor. When my mentor asked what kind of thing I wanted to study, I tossed out “sturgeon” as one such possibility, expecting to hear that I would probably have to limit myself to more common/accessible species.

I was blown away when she said “Actually, I think I know a guy…”

For the next several years, I got to ride along collecting wild adult sturgeon, gathering eggs, and raising the baby fish in a lab and in a hatchery. I was holding something that I had thought of as a semi-mythical lake/river monster in my own hands! I got to see a river choked with giants as big as 2 meters long, and I got to hold a 5-centimeters mottled baby whose armored scutes were still sharp and possessed the little arrowhead shape and big black pectoral fins that remind me of Mickey Mouse ears! In the video below you can even see a little heartbeat! (Don’t worry, this little guy was returned to the tank soon after to recover from his anesthesia!)

Sadly, I didn’t find anything super groundbreaking in my research, but my experience DID land me a job working in sturgeon aquaculture! If you’ve ever had caviar that wasn’t poached, it probably came from a sturgeon farm, and if you want to see a lot of big fish up close, this is a good place to do it! I probably personally handled more individual sturgeon than there are wild fish in several sturgeon species. In addition, while the wild broodstock I mentioned above might reach 2 meters and over 50kg, the sturgeon I dealt with at the farm would easily double that, and there were a LOT of them! I got to see sturgeon behavior that had never been recorded in field guides, and even a few crazy one-in-a-million mutations like the infamous “ghost” sturgeon!

I even got the opportunity to cook my own sturgeon meat (Yeah, I basically turned into the Touden siblings from Dungeon Meshi except for sturgeon instead of RPG monsters). I got pretty good at making smoked sturgeon, but the meat is also good on the grill or baked, and people have been cooking them in various ways for centuries.

My favorite part of the job was physically wrestling the big fish! Sturgeon are easier to grab than other fish with the right know-how, but a human-sized fish often has its own plans for the day and won’t always cooperate. I was pretty good at moving the adults by the time I left that job, but it was still a wild rodeo every time!

Even more exciting was how we spawned each new generation of sturgeon. In the wild, they form massive spawning runs in big rivers that in the past would be enough to tip small boats, but in a lab or farm we have to use other means. I’ll spare you the details, but I am one of a small number of people who have surgically extracted eggs from a live sturgeon and sutured them back up to swim another day.

The tldr of this essay is that sturgeon are a big, crazy-unique fish that have been around a long time, and I’ve spent a lot of my career handling and working with them. There’s just nothing like them for a fish nerd and they’re damn cool!

(Clip art not mine, I think @sturgeonposting drew or shared it!)

[onlyzizi]

i got hired at the placed i interviewed at. a little nervous about it but whatever i need money.

i start this upcoming friday at 12. it’s a retail job so it’s minimum wage but the job itself seems pretty easy + most of the employees look nice so hopefully it’s alright.

i need to find out the train times over so i’m not late or too early.

i have 2 jobs now so i think things are going to get better now, at least financially. i hope it doesn’t interfere too much with my schoolwork but it always does :(

[hotasfahrenheit]

one thing about this first episode of 4 Minutes that really caught my attention specifically because of my job-

as a florist working ***in America***, most times that a basket of white flowers is sent to someone, it's either being sent to a funeral/calling hours, or as condolences to a home of someone who has lost a family member. most get well arrangements we make at my shop are things in vases. (so please note reading the rest of this that this is all my perspective as an American living in America and i don't have ANY kind of authority about floral traditions in Thailand and anything i might be missing because of that!! this is just what i know about flowers HERE.)

from what i can see in this shot, we've got Oriental lilies, roses, waxflower, alstroemeria, eucalyptus, possibly some lisianthus, and i'm sure more flowers that aren't visible. it's a lovely arrangement! it makes me curious what kinds of flowers are regularly available in Thailand, and what else is in that basket.

that basket is also STUFFED and LARGE, which means it's a pretty pricey arrangement. which i mean Great's family clearly can afford to throw a bunch of money at flowers, so that checks out. a basket like that with the flower selection and the amount packed in there would run probably somewhere around $200 or more at my shop, it's pretty big. it's also probably pretty heavy with floral foam and water in there, so props to Bible for making it look light, because those don't look like silks to me.

anyway for reference here's a less expensive basket arrangement i made a couple months ago for a funeral service (probably around $90). i don't do a lot of funeral work so i don't do baskets often, but this was done on a slow day when they wanted to work on teaching me some new stuff.

is there meaning that could be read into the different flowers and flower choices? possibly, but i CAN tell you that in America, those are all just common flowers for making this kind of stuff and it's more about having a selection of white flowers available on hand in the moment, and things like the alstro and wax that will fill space between the more expensive higher end flowers like the lilies and roses.

do the flowers have different significance in Thailand? again, possibly, but like i said before, i don't know enough about Thai culture to know if they send or gift flower baskets for the same reasons people send or gift them here, and i don't know about the meanings of flowers there versus here.

so do with this knowledge what you will! i just thought given the circumstances that it was a really interesting choice instead of something in a vase.

[littledigits]

What is your take on the current animation industry and the way its heading for AI and job hiring? Ngl its looking a little bleak and I would love to hear your insight!

HOO. This is going to be a long one, but good question. Please keep in mind I am but one person with my one opinion.

I'm going to give you a little context to what was leading up to the job bust, the shit reality, and the hopeful conclusion.

Its always been a completive industry and unfortunately it will more-so for the next little while, even compared to when I graduated. The reality is, the animation industry GREW SO MUCH over the streaming services greenlighting projects to a point where I was like . WHERE ARE ALL THESE CARTOONS GOING. It felt like we went from nothing to a ton and was amazing that so much work was going around (looking back we see why it was too good to be true) A lot of schools and studios responded to this by growing as well. This means while it may recover, I dont see a way that it could reach the highs we had in the 2015-2021 period - because that wasn't representative of a sustainable model or a model they were planning on sticking with forever.

So the streaming bubble popped, and a lot of the reason why it popped was because streaming wasn't as lucrative when everyone joins in. This is the reality of working under the umbrella of Hollywood companies. Mergers happened, projects got pulled - and it probably wouldn't have seemed as big if we didn't have THE MOST JOBS EVER like, just a year before. It was a big rug pull. With the huge growth came a steep fall and all of it because of bad investments and choices of the people with the money. aka, we all wanted to chase someone elses idea thats making money for them and it didnt pay off - which leads me to AI.

While AI is scary and will do/is doing damage, it will not last forever. The industry only looks like its heading this way because the people who like AI are desperate to make it work, so they're pushing at it from all angles despite no AI company being profitable. ( once companies see that its not going to make them money they will drop it ) Its really nothing but a glorified pattern and predictive text machine that of course looks impressive when you feed it oodles of data. People who live on linked in and drink management courses like its water think that sort of shit is impressive, but they dont actually know how it works and just buy into the tech industry hype cycle . What we're seeing is them trying to make fetch happen, and it wont. (some useful bits will stay around but it doesnt 'think', a lot of this is just pure fakery)

You can trace a lot of things that lost jobs to bad investments from people higher up, who just jump around to different jobs when they make a mistake, or just simply get a bonus.

Its a symptom of the greater issue which is the monopoly of people in media and tech, which have been merging over the years with digital streaming. Lack of regulation in industries since the 80s has lead to a lot of the shit you see all around you, and it starts to be controlled by people who only want numbers goup. Overall , I think the animation industry in north America is entirely too controlled by the major studios and broadcasters, and that's going to be a tricky thing to navigate since they're very mask off about what their intentions are at this point. Its a growth-at-all-cost mindset that leads to things like AI, so while im confidant that what we see as 'ai' will die , we do have to realize as artists that as long as these people are in charge they will always try to find a way to cut the bottom line and not invest in the industry.

Its totally reasonable to feel bleak, but that's the intent. They want people to have to settle for less, and they want them to forget a time that it was better. Demoralization is part of the tactics, and 'starving' people out of jobs so they're easier to negotiate with is extremely common and pretty much what is happening right now. And this is exactly why you're seeing more union push from lots of industries because we're ALL being taken advantage of here. While it feels hopeless, this actually puts us much more in line with the artists and storytellers before us. They were up against the same people fighting the same fight, they were just called communists haha. Different words, same tactics, but the history of moments like this in the entertainment industry is more common then the shiny package we tend to grow up idolizing . ( its good to admire but we do often put these products up on a pedestal to our detriment )

The industry will survive, and it will change into something different which is GOOD. Because what it is right now, while workable and still full of things I enjoy - is NOT sustainable. And if we want to keep the skills of 2d animation, stop motion or any sort of creative trade to continue, we NEED sustainability. This is why collective action is so important, and so is diversity in the amounts of media we have! For example

YOUTUBE INDIE ANIMATION IS KICKING BROADCASTERS ASSES RIGHT NOW AND THEY NOTICE IT.

And while there are ups and downs regardless if you work in a small studio or a large one, I am hopeful that the conversations I've been seeing will spark change. Because as sucky as it is , compared to the rest of my time in the industry ( i think im on like 16 or 17 years now ) , I've never seen so much engagement or even discussion on the topic which says a lot. I think as artists we are always up for putting a lot of hard work into our skills, I think if enough of us point that passion into our community and collective action, we can start building an industry that does not have such a power imbalance, and that starts with community, education and engagement ! ( learning about the history of unions/animation/hollywood/workers rights,and then sharing that stuff! just through convo like this !) I hope this gives you some perspective, its something we're going to have to work at, but not something that is impossible. A lot of how the animation industry functions is not great, but what matters is that we work to make it better and the people who HAVE been doing that work are the ones that you want to find. They are the people with the proactive solutions to show you how to take power back. It helps fight the bleak feeling <3 tldr :

the solution is that as much as it sucks we try to make it better for those who come after us - and you can be involved in that job or not ! even just by supporting or being aware. This isnt animation is all careers, we're all effected by the same thing.

never forget.

[kandisheek]

If you're part of the Put On The Suit 18+ Stony Discord Server, you may already know that we've been running a server-exclusive bingo for the past one and a half months. And today is the day when we can officially say:

✨ WE HAVE BLACKED OUT THE CARD!! ✨ Great job, team!

This was the first fandom event I've ever run, and I couldn't be happier with how many people participated and created beautiful fics and art for it. And to share the love, here is a masterpost of all the incredible works that people have made.

What's a Reverse Trope, you may ask? You simply take a common fanfic trope and flip it on its head. "There's Only One Bed" turns into "There's Too Many Beds" and so on.

A special thank you to @avengersnewb for her help with organizing everything, and let's get into the fan works!

S1: Good Doppelganger 🔃 Evil Doppelganger

Now this is a whole different birthday. by Lancelot_The_Dragon_Lord It's Tony's birthday coming up, and Steve doesn't know what to give him.

S2: Fast Burn 🔃 Slow Burn

Welcome to the 21st Century by EvilDime Phil Coulson wonders if he should have held back the information about queer rights a bit longer. Captain Rogers does not seem to be taking it well. How to make friends with new teammates by Girl_Back_There Tony didn’t mean for it to happen, but he can’t resist a hot guy in a Captain America suit. Especially when said guy is eye-fucking the Iron Man suit.

S3: Twice Serumed Steve 🔃 De-Serumed Steve

Perfection, Scientifically Speaking by EvilDime When Steve injected himself with the serum in a desperate bid to keep it out of A.I.M.'s hands, he had expected something familiar like more muscles, greater speed, further heightened durability. Or even no change at all, since the first dose had already been designed to make him perfect. Steve had been wholly unprepared for what he got instead.

S4: Fake Break-Up 🔃 Fake Relationship

The Inheritance by laiwrites Without waiting for an answer, Steve approached, laying the spread out on the polished oak desk and setting their places as if they were in the dining room. He was in the middle of drawing up a chair when Tony said, "Darling, I believe we must divorce." On accident, Steve scratched the chair legs against the expensive parquet flooring. "It is too early for this. If you must jest, Tony, could you at least wait until after I have eaten?"

S5: Can't Forget Anything 🔃 Amnesia

Remember (when your dreams have ended) BirtheV If Tony Stark were a better man, he would take responsibility for his actions. But since Tony is not even a good man, he's going to take the easy way out and forget Steve Rogers ever existed. Only then will he be able to live without this grief that's killing him. It turns out brains are rather fickle about what they remember and forget. Things can always get worse.

T1: Empty Nest Fic 🔃 Kid Fic

mirrors a still sky by laiwrites Four snapshots over several decades of Steve and Tony growing old together at their house on the lake. Based off of an AU where they make up and get married after Civil War.

T2: Too Hot To Cuddle 🔃 Huddling For Warmth

Beating the Heat by KandiSheek It's too hot to do anything but lie in bed together. Steve and Tony find ways to entertain themselves.

T3: Hate At First Sight 🔃 Love At First Sight

If You Tame Me by KandiSheek They've been together for barely a month when Steve gets a dog. Which would be all well and good if the dog didn't hate Tony on sight. How the hell is Tony supposed to make a dog like him anyway?

T4: Didn't Know They Weren't Dating 🔃 Didn't Know They Were Dating

Been There, Done That by EvilDime "Steve," Tony interrupts Steve's solicitous stream of concern. "Do we have a date this afternoon?" "Sorry, a what?" "A date," Tony repeats. "My calendar claims that I have a 'Coffee Date with Cap' at four o'clock." There's silence on the other end of the line. Then, hesitantly: "Like, a date-date?" "That's what the calendar says," Tony confirms. In which Tony and Steve lost only a week's worth of memories during a mission, but it turns out it was a somewhat important week.

T5: Lie Serum 🔃 Truth Serum

(No) Touching by Naivelittleprincess "I hate you," Steve whispered with a softness better suited to a different set of words. Tony only hummed and paused in the middle of his rant about pineapple on pizza to plant a quick kiss on his lips. "I hate you too, winghead. Now, listen—this is important and it makes my hot, Italian blood boil."

O1: Presumed Alive 🔃 Presumed Dead

Sanguinary Revelations by FestiveFerret Tony's pretty sure his brand new relationship with Steve is the best relationship he's ever been in. Until he learns something surprising about his new beau.

O2: There's Too Many Beds 🔃 There's Only One Bed

Sometimes, There's too many beds. by Lancelot_The_Dragon_Lord With the others Avengers moving way, Tony and Steve are left in the tower alone, with far to many empty beds. Tony falls back into bad habits, and Steve's just being Steve. This always end well, Right? Romcom Fantasies by starkparade Tony runs into Steve at the airport, and when the hotel Tony booked in Washington DC abruptly cancels his reservation, Steve offers him to stay the night at his place. It sounds like something straight out of Tony's romcom fantasies starring Steve, except Tony is convinced that Steve is in love with someone else. Situation Normal: All Fucked Up by KandiSheek Tony had a foolproof plan. Step 1: Get Steve into bed with him. Step 2: ? Step 3: Live happily ever after. Sure, it could use some work, but success was guaranteed. No one is more shocked than him when it doesn't work out quite like he planned.

O3: Free Space

Friends by EvilDime Shopping for a coffin is not where Steve expected to make a friend. And he almost doesn't.

O4: Ruin-It 🔃 Fix-It

Close It by starkparade Steve had to make the hard call to prevent the nuclear blast going off inside the wormhole from reaching the island of Manhattan. As a result, Tony Stark never made it back. Steve did what he had to, and yet his guilt is eating him alive and he can't figure out just why he is so affected.

O5: Too Much Communication 🔃 Miscommunication

The Opposite of You by KandiSheek Tony has a lot of opinions about the kind of person Steve should date. Steve doesn't quite know how to tell him he's already made up his mind.

N1: True Hate's Kiss 🔃 True Love's Kiss

What if.. Tony was where Rhodey was by Lancelot_The_Dragon_Lord Tony is following the Quinjet, and gets hit by a stray laser by Rhodey. He falls.

N2: Abstain or Die 🔃 Fuck or Die

Swingin' Party by Naivelittleprincess It’s his sister and his best friend’s wedding, and Tony is not allowed to have sex with his ex-husband.

N3: Divorce of Convenience 🔃 Marriage of Convenience

Fools Rush In by betheflame “So you’re getting a divorce of convenience to then get a marriage of convenience, but really nothing about your actual marriage has changed?” “Pretty much,” Tony affirmed. “You’re fucking nuts if you think this’ll work, pal,” Bucky said. "Fucking nuts."

N4: Found Foes 🔃 Found Family

This Meeting Could Have Been an E-mail by laiwrites In an alternate universe where Iron Man is one of Captain America's fiercest enemies, the two of them find themselves on opposite sides of a battlefield as usual. Only, this time Cap has a proposal.

N5: Lovers to Friends 🔃 Friends to Lovers

The sunrise over the cliff face by Lancelot_The_Dragon_Lord Steve is proposing to Tony. Or is he? It's Not You, It's Me by EvilDime “Tony,” Steve said slowly. “Is this the Talk I think it is?” Chewing on his lip did not make this any easier. Resigned, Tony slipped his lip back out from between his teeth and faced the music. “Not the way you’re thinking, Steve. But, basically? Yes.”

Y1: Everyone Has Powers AU 🔃 No Powers AU

Waiting On A Miracle by Naivelittleprincess [An AU inspired by Encanto, featuring Peggy as "Abuela", the team as her adopted foster children with special gifts and Tony as the odd ball without any powers.] "I don't know why you weren't given a gift, Tony," Peggy had raged. "But that does not mean you go around ruining everyone else's life!" "I wasn't. Steve wasn't happy with Sharon!" "And he won't be now. You've made sure of that. Howard was right! You are a miserable child! I should have never let you stay here."

Y2: Virgin Tony 🔃 Playboy Tony

Darling, don't be afraid. by Lancelot_The_Dragon_Lord Tony Stark is a virgin, always has been. It's not for the lack trying. He's just scared to be vulnerable.

Y3: Monstercuddling 🔃 Monsterfucking

All Wrapped Up by KandiSheek Tony gets caught by a tentacle monster, which sounds terrible but actually isn't. The creature just... holds him, for a while, before the rest of the Avengers show up and rescue him. Finding out just how depressingly touch-starved you are via wholesome tentacle kidnapping has to be the pinnacle of humiliation. Now Tony needs to figure out how he can repeat the experience with less tentacles and more actual human contact. And also why the hell Steve seems to be the only one on the team who isn't down for some casual Tony cuddling.

Y4: Undercover in a Straight Bar 🔃 Undercover in a Gay Bar

Fruit Punch by Naivelittleprincess Tony's days of being a playboy might be over, but that doesn't mean anything when he has to teach Steve a lesson.

Y5: Last Kiss 🔃 First Kiss

Forever the Name on My Lips by ralsbecket Tony jokes about how the final kiss they shared was all love and morning breath. A full grin spreads across his face as he confesses, “The only thing I regret in my life is not brushing my teeth that morning.” Don't Look, I Think We Made The Sun Cry by Naivelittleprincess As long as they are together, death is but the next adventure.

[imawreck]

Amends

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier x Original Character

Summary:

Warnings:

Word Count:

Ghost-

Bucky had returned to actively avoiding me.

After the spars in the training room, I made my presence scarce around the tower. I stuck to my floor with Natasha, since she wasn't around much. Banner visited some, mainly to run short tests in the comfort of the living room on my floor. He figured it would be easier on me in this environment and I thanked him graciously. Occasionally, I did have to take tests in the main lab, but he always made it easy and was incredibly patient. It was a lot different than with Hydra.

When people came to my floor, I would return to my rooms and train with what I had. I wasn't allowed knives or anything I could use as a weapon without someone else present. I was allowed in the kitchen though, which confused me. I cooked a lot for Natasha, but I hardly ate with her. I simply left the food on the counter for her or set it on warm in the microwave.

One afternoon, I decided it was time to try and socialize with the group again. I caught Natasha in the elevator, asking her to accompany me down to the main commons area. When we arrived, Steve was sitting at the counter. Nat let me off and headed down since someone was on the floor. An awkward silence enveloped both the Captain and I. I rolled up the sleeves on my shirt, silently getting to work on the lunch I had planned. I could feel his eyes on me as I worked around the kitchen, but he stayed quiet for a while.

When I was putting steaks on the stove, he cleared his throat behind me. "How do you know how to cook so well?"

I shook out some spices on the top of the meat, "I worked undercover majority of the times I trailed the Winter Soldier. Hydra didn't want us to interact unless it was needed, and they didn't want him to know I existed on the field. I was ordered to act like the common civilian. I had jobs and acquaintances, but I always left after a while. " I pressed them down on the pan, searing it. I glanced back at him over my shoulder, "What about you? Did you have a lot of friends? Winter-," I paused, mentally scolding myself. "Bucky told me about you once, he remembered you in the beginning."

That seemed to catch him off guard and he frowned at the counter. "Bucky and I have always been close, he was my best pal long before everything happened. I used to be a real sick kid, frail and all. Bucky always stood up for me when the guys would pick fights with me. I guess it was really only ever him and I."

I flipped the steak, smiling a little. "He is very fond of you. He was, even then."

We didn't talk much while I cooked the rest of the lunch. He helped me get the plates out and set them along the counter. I hesitated, "I don't really think the rest of them are very comfortable around me, so I won't be here, but I hope everyone likes it."

Steve looked up away from the cabinet, "They're only ever going to get to know you if you spend more time around them. I don't think it's really the rest of them that you're worried about, is it?"

I pursed my lips, thinking briefly of the last look Bucky had given me the night of the spars. "I suppose not."

Steve shot me a soft smile, "He just needs some time to mull over everything. He'll come around eventually. Don't worry."

I nodded slowly, "Thank you, Captain." I gave him a small smile. Maybe Captain America isn't that bad. "You should call them in Don't want it to get cold."

_____

Bucky-

I made my way into the commons area after Friday had notified me that a lunch had been made. The team was all sitting around the bar, talking and laughing and enjoying a meal. It smelled heavenly. Steve caught my eye and nudged the plate beside his, motioning me over. Perfectly cooked steaks were stacked on a platter in the center of the counterspace. There were vegetables and drinks set out to the side too.

I took a seat, slowly taking a steak for my own and began to eat. I listened to the chatter around the table as they all enjoyed their food. Steve waited for me to finish before bumping his shoulder with mine. I wiped my face with my napkin and threw it at him. "What do you want, punk? I just finished eating."

"Snow cooked this for the team. I got to talk to her for a while." He knew he just dropped a bomb on me, but he took another bite off of his plate like it was nothing. "I think you should talk to her. She cares about you."

I scoffed, "She cared about the Winter Soldier, Steve, not me." I threw back the rest of my drink and pushed a pea around my plate. "Plus, aren't you the one that 'barred' me from seeing her anyways?" I shot him a pointed look.

Steve sighed beside me, grabbing his own drink just to hold it. "She told me something about you, about when they had you back with Hydra. I think she keeps things from us because the time she had with you was all she has ever had that they couldn't take from her. She told me about the early days of your capture, said that you had told her about me. You talked with her Bucky, you told her about parts of your life. Doesn't that prove that she knew parts of you that weren't the soldier? Yes, she knew the Winter Soldier in a more complex way, but she knew you too."

I sat silently, dropping my fork after a beat, "What should I do? I feel confused, Steve. The Soldier feels something for her. When she's around it's like I'm hyper aware of it. When she was sparring with Natasha the other day, or when you punched her... After I saw her side, I nearly lost it. I don't even know why. I don't think she's telling us the whole story anymore. I think she was closer to the Winter Soldier than she is letting on."

Steve nodded, "I think you're right. But I don't think she means any harm. She feels guilty for not telling you. She didn't want to join us to eat because she thought it would make you uncomfortable. She's thinking of you."

I grabbed my plate, standing from the stool. Steve took a drink from his cup, "Just think about it Buck. Just so you know, Tony said it's safe for you to be around her now. She's given him enough to show her cooperation. She's also been running tests for the last couple of days with Banner and we have a lot more information on her. Makes him comfortable."

I left the group after dumping my plate in the sink and returned to my room. I hadn't mentioned to Steve that telling me to think about it wouldn't help me. She had been on my mind since the moment I woke up.

I wanted to apologize for ignoring her not an hour after she left the training room. I had no right to be angry with her. We were asking her to tell us, strangers, her entire life story. Anyone who knows anything about Hydra knows it wouldn't be pleasant for her to tell. I shouldn't have blamed her for keeping things from me. I slouched down on my bed, laying out on it. I hardly slept on the bed, finding it more comfortable with the floor. Something hard and pointy poked me when I tried to roll over, and I yanked the covers back.

The poetry book Snow had picked up that day in the book store laid there against the dark sheets. I had forgotten I had returned for it the day after we visited the book store. I glanced at my end table at the small vase I had taken from the kitchen where the single flower stood, still surprisingly full of life.

I picked it up between my fingers, swiveling it around between them. She deserved an apology for my behavior.

I grabbed the book off of the mattress and searched the room for a piece of paper and something I could write with. I quickly scribbled out a note and pinched it between my fingers as I exited the room. Making sure no one saw me, I made my way to the elevator. "Friday, where is Snow right now?"

"Hello Sergeant Barnes, Snow is currently in the training room."

I opened my mouth to speak but closed it again. I wasn't sure if I was ready to see her face to face just yet, so I decided for the second-best approach. "Take me to her floor."

"Right away."

I slipped out as soon as the doors opened enough, and I carefully made my way towards her room. They had labeled it Ghost, having only known her by that the first time she joined us. I frowned, mentally making a note to have it changed as quickly as possible. I knelt down to place the book neatly in front of her door. I placed the flower across the cover and set the note on top of it. A faint ding echoed down the hall, signaling someone had arrived at the floor. I slunk quietly down the opposite direction, careful not to make a sound as I left the scene.

Tags <3

@cjand10 / @blackbirdwitch22 / @imdoingathingmom

[shellingtons-failed-driving-test]

Chapter One

4,311 Words

Authoru's Note:

Sorry, this doesn't have a title yet, but I'm trying to think up one. I just wanted to go ahead and post it to see what people think. If you have any suggestions pls put them in the comments.

Oh, my word this got way longer than I'd originally intended. I hope I was okay with the characterisation. I was worrying so much as I was writing it. I hope the interactions feel in character and you enjoy it.

Also, I have changed the ages slightly, which I think is fine because they're unspecified. However, it is canon that Peso has finished Medical school, but in the story, he has not. He's 19 and a half because he went to nursing school right after high school and plans to get a medical degree later.

And, in this universe, all humans are animal hybrids so they have actual hands and feet but still ears and tails. I'm not exactly sure how to explain it, but they're referred to by what type of hybrid they are as well as their race. Certain areas have more common hybrids that correspond to what "regular/normal" animals live there. EX: skunk hybrids are only in the Americas because skunks don't live anywhere else.

Anyway, sorry about my ramblings, and happy reading!

Peso's Perspective:

The big car stops with a squeal, throwing me forward with its sudden breaking. As soon as the door opens the sound of waves crashing and seagulls crying fills my ears. The sea breeze is refreshing after being cooped up in a vehicle for so long.

“Here we are.” The driver says curtly. He’s a state government employee with a scruffy beard that makes him look older than he probably is. He didn’t say a single word the entire drive, leaving me in silence broken only by the occasional crackling of the radio. In a way, it was good because it gave me a chance to do some last-minute studying of the Octonauts handbook pdf I printed out at home. Still, I felt like he was kind of glaring at me in the mirror. Maybe it’s just the anxiety. Maybe he’s just a grumpy person. He had photographs of his children clipped to his visor, but I didn’t see a wedding ring. Divorced, maybe?

“Thank you, sir.”

“It’s just my job. Say, you’re with that team of astro- er, aqua- whatever, scientist, right?”

“The Octonauts, yes.”

“Right, that’s what it was.” He nods as he helps me unload my bags. I gulp a bit at their size. I’m really going to be living at sea for months. I hope my family will be okay.

As soon as he sets the bags down, he closes the hatch and drives off, leaving me once again alone. The other Octonauts, the original Octonauts, have been at sea for a year already. They got a send-off with fanfare at their port in England, all I got was a crumpled map to try and find my way around this place. I’m not jealous but . . . it only reminds me that I’m the newbie, not one of them.

I’m only here as a filler for Dr. Deere, who had to leave due to a research development for one of his projects on land. They’re going to have a proper replacement, someone qualified, in six months at the latest, that’s what they said. It takes a lot to qualify for this programme, the best of the best with years of study in their fields and here I am, just some lucky guy. I’m not even an actual doctor, just a nurse, and even then I still have a few final training courses to complete. All week I’ve wondered, why on earth would they pick me? Am I even good enough?

I blink at the blare of a ship’s horn. Crap, I can’t zone out like that! I need to be prepared for anything, ANYTHING. I will be . . . as soon as I find the ship.

I was sent the training videos, all 600-something of them, on a hard drive the size of my hand, but obviously, I haven’t had time to watch them all and downloading them would’ve taken nearly all of my storage space, so I just packed the whole hard drive instead. The schematics are on the hard drive too, so I have no idea what this thing looks like. They said they’d go over plans and safety once I was settled, but I wish I could at least have a photo. It’s got to be some kind of submarine, right?

The port on the Isle of Skye is a small, but bustling place. The signage is old, and blocked by containers coming in. A crew pulls a fishing net of turtles out onto the dock, and I wince. Then, I see they’re all for studying. Several scientists surround them, scanning red tags on the fins and retrieving cameras from their shells. I smile as I pass them, waving at the turtles, who wave back. I notice one of the scientists, a brown-haired man hurrying around. When he looks at his tablet he jumps in surprise.

“Jumping jellyfish! We were totally wrong about the feeding grounds. This is amazing! I thought . . .”

I don’t catch the rest as I walk on. I’ve never heard someone so excited about being proven wrong before.

As I round the corner, I see it. 

Dios mío . . .

It looks like an octopus. Of course, it does. I’m so stupid. It’s the Octopod. A state-of-the-art international research station with laboratories capable of housing a crew of 10 for extended periods. Can I just go in?

I stop when I get to the ramp, hesitating at the bottom, I survey the large oddly shaped submarine once more. My temporary home. As I look up something flickers in the window, like a lamp, or a streak of orange, but it’s gone before I’m sure.

I remember what my 4th grade science teacher, Mr. Perez always said: Take a deep breath. I do, and even after all this time, it helps.

The ramp echoes under my feet in a comforting way, assuring me of the ship’s solidity. A small yellow creature greets me, and I gasp. It frowns.

“Oh, I’m sorry, that was terribly rude of me. You’re very cute looking, you just scared me.”

It makes a chirping sound, which sounds affirmative. Laughing, I follow it into the elevator, as it closes I hear footsteps, someone running.

“Tunip!” A male voice pants, he has a heavy Scottish accent. “Don’t . . . leave me.” 

Huffing and a little winded the scientist from before appears. The yellow creature makes a sound that sounds like a scold. 

“Ah, well, sorry. I got distracted with the turtles.” the man says sheepishly. He’s the same scientist I saw with the turtles. Now that I can see him better it’s clear that he’s not too much older than me. His chestnut brown hair is messy and his eyes have bags underneath them but are still concerningly bright, He bears the appearance of an overworked uni student, and yet somehow still cute.

The creature blows a raspberry at him and starts to close the lift doors.

“Hey, now that’s not very kind! I was just trying to– Ah, hey! Don’t close the lift on me!”

The creature huffs, sounding almost affectionate, but allows the man into the lift. 

Once inside he takes a deep breath, pulling a handful of Polaroids from his shoulder bag, looking at them as if to make sure they don’t disappear. They’re of the turtles, and a few have him in them, but he doesn’t spend as much time looking at them. Finally, he turns to me, as if he’s just noticed me.

“Oh, hello there. Forgive me, I didn’t see you. I’m Shellington.” He doesn’t extend his hand, only nodding, but the greeting is still just as friendly.

“I’m Peso. I’m the temporary medic.”

He nods, more to himself than to me, I think, muttering “Oh, good. It’s dangerous for us not to have one on board, especially with Kwazii.”

As the lift rises, it makes a loud mechanical whirring, as if no one had bothered to dampen it as they do in most lifts. In fact, the whole thing looks industrial and feels about five degrees colder than before the door was closed. I wonder why, I also wonder who Kwazii is. Finally, it dings and the doors open and he steps out into a small dark room. I trip after him, barely able to see a centimetre in front of me.

“Uhhh?”

My foot collides with something and I go sprawling over (except not really because there’s barely space in this room for my body length).

“Owwie! You’ve stood on my foot!”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. But, where are we?”

“Oh, whoops, I must’ve forgotten to mention. This lift is only here because some equipment would be unsafe to carry any other way, either because it contains potentially hazardous materials or it’s simply too large.”

“Oh . . . I suppose that makes sense.”

It would be hard to carry an entire x-ray machine up and down stairs, even a portable one.

“Welcome to my closet!” He says it with his arms wide to indicate the space around us with affected excitement, but the space is small so he can’t extend his arms very much. I can’t help but laugh.

The idea of being in a closet makes me laugh a bit, but I still don’t like dark spaces.

“Can we, um, maybe get out?”

“Oh, right, yes.”

He presses a switch I can’t see and light streams in. With a sigh of relief, I follow him into the larger room. It’s a laboratory. It’s very green, with light green walls, floors and posters. Now that I pay attention, even his shirt is olive green. He must really love green.

I turn to ask him about where I’m supposed to be, only to see he’s already gone back to work. Right, they don’t have time for a bumbling rookie. After a moment of debate with myself, I tap him lightly on the shoulder. It takes a few times before he notices, and when he does he jumps again. 

“Excuse me, do you know where it is I’m supposed to go?”

He furrows his brow thoughtfully, “Hmm, I don’t have much to do with the recruitment process, that’s Professor Inkling and the Captain’s job, but I believe you’re supposed to meet with the Captain, he should be in HQ. I have to finish processing this data, but Tunip can take you.”

“Okay.”

The creature, Turnip, seems to smile. He chirps excitedly leading me back to the lift. When he gets in he jumps high enough to press the button that reads HQ. The ride is short and the doors open out to a large circular room. Glass makes up the top half of the room, a large skylight. I can only imagine what it must look like underwater. It must be incredible.

In the centre stands a tall man, not quite old enough to be my father, but a little older than Pogo, with neatly combed white hair, he wears a blue uniform with a tool belt. This must be the captain. He smiles, extending his hand. He towers over me.

“Good morning, you must be Peso. I’m Captain Barnacles, it’s lovely to finally meet you, Dr. Deere told me all about you.” His voice is loud, but kind.

“Oh, h-he did?” It comes out as a question, and I stutter under everyone’s sudden gaze. Even Tunip looks expectantly at me. “I mean, I’m glad he did. And I’m very glad to meet all of you and be working with you.”

“Us as well, we hope you can learn a lot during your time here. Let’s meet everyone.”

He waves for me to follow and takes me to a station full of buttons and computers. A woman gets up when she sees us. She has warm brown skin and hair cut in a fluffy chin-length bob, sunbleached with blond highlights. She’s a bit taller than me

“Dashi, meet Peso, our new medic.”

“Rad! Nice to meet you Peso. I’m Dashi, head of system and operation here in the Octopod. I run all the computer systems and track the weather patterns, but on my days off, I’m a surfer.”

With her Australian accent, it definitely makes sense.

“Ooh, fun.”

“It is, have you met anyone else yet?”

“The Captain, but that was obvious, sorry, and Shellington. He introduced himself as just Shellington, but does he have credentials I should call him by?”

“Not yet, but finished uni and he’s doing his PhD research on this mission, so he will. Have you met the vegimals yet?”

“The what?”

“They’re what he’s doing his research on. Oh, I’m sure you’ll just love them. I think Barrot is with Tweak right now actually.”

At this, Captain Barnacles nods, “Yes, I’m taking him to meet Tweak next.”

“Great, see you around, Peso!”

“You too.” I take a breath as we get back in the lift.

“This must be a lot for you.”

“Oh, no, sir. It’s really fine.”

“Oh, I’m sure you can handle it, but if you ever need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask any of us. I know they can be a bit intense at first, but they’re all good people and they all want the same thing, to help creatures in the ocean. We’re happy to have you and they’ll be happy to help you adjust.”

“Thank you, Captain.” I can tell from his voice just how much he believes in the crew and in me, the only question is whether the crew feels the same, and if I even deserve that belief.

“I do hope you’ll settle in easily.”

“I’ll try my best. The crew all seem really nice.”

The lift dings then, relaising us to what looks like a garage with a large pool in the centre.

I see more of the creatures like Tunip standing next to a machine I can only describe as looking like a big orange shark, holding wrenches. What was it Dashi called them? Vegi-mals? The vegi-mal is as orange as the gup.

“47, please.” a female voice calls. Whoever she is, she has a southern United States accent like I’ve never heard before. I look around for the woman but I only see a pair of fluffy, light green ears sticking out from underneath the metal shark. They contrast oddly with the orange.

The vegi-mal hands her the large wrench he was holding.

“Thanks, screwdriver.”

She reaches up and he puts a small screwdriver in her hand.

“Thanks.” she hands the wrench back, “carrot.”

Huh?

The vegi-mal hands her a carrot straight out of the toolbox.

“Tweak, are you almost finished?” the Captain asks.

“You bet, I’ll be done faster n’ you can say buncha munchy crunchy carrots.”

Just as she pronounces the “t” she slides out from under the machine, half-eaten carrot in hand.

“What’s up?” Her hazel eyes sparkle in a nice way.

“Tweak, I’d like you to meet the new member of our team, Peso. He’ll be our medic for the next few months.”

She jumps up, striding over to shake my hand, “Nice to meet ya, Peso. Welcome abroad, and welcome to the Launch Bay.”

She takes a big bite of carrot, smiling, her green braid swinging as she walks over to the control panel. She’s more muscular than I am, wearing a jumpsuit not zipped all the way so it shows her tank top revealing her build. Her belt is full of tools I can’t even name, she looks like she belongs here.

“Thank you, it’s such a nice space,” I tell her honestly, looking around at all the gadgets. Finally, I spot something familiar. Ring of Fire, it's my younger brother, Pinto’s favourite video game. Seeing it makes me miss him more. 

She follows my gaze, “You play? I’m always up for a tournament!”

“Oh, ah, no. My younger brother. I’ve joined him a few times but I always die before the first round.”

“Shame, maybe I can teach you. Perhaps I can even teach you so well you’ll beat Kwazii. Ah, speakin’ of Kwaz, I should probably put Bea way before he comes lookin’ for her.”

Two people now have mentioned Kwazii. I wonder what his deal is? Is he the Octonauts mischievous pet or something? Whoever he is, I really want to meet him now. Meanwhile, there's a bubbling and the orange metal contraption disappears into the water.

The Captain laughs, “Yes, you should. Thank you for taking the time for Peso, I’m sure we’ll be back soon to see which Gup he’ll be riding in.”

“Well I was working’ on a little project . . . but yeah, s’probably best if he just rides with one of us for now. Gup A’s probably safest. You’re going to see the professor?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, well tell him thanks for the book, it’s helped a lot with my design.”

“I will. He’ll be glad to hear it.” The Captain smiles as he takes us back to the lift.

“The Equipment elevator, really, Cap?”

“Well, I thought that—”

Suddenly there’s a whooshing, and somebody lands right next to me.

“Ahoy Tweak!” A male voice shouts.

Tweak looks unimpressed, but I can see hidden affection when she rolls her eyes. “She’s not here.”

“Not anywhere?”

“Nope, ya just missed here.”

He whines, “Tweeeak! When am I gonna get my Gup back?”

“Come on, it’s just repairs, we do this every quarter, you know this.”

“I know, but . . .” he turns, starting to stalk off, then calls over his shoulder, “Fine, but I’ll be back!”

“I’m sure you will.”

While he’s looking at Tweak he stalks right into me. I fall very gracefully onto my butt. He snaps his head back in my direction with surprise, looking down.

“Oh, hey there little fella. I’m sorry about that.” he bends down offering his hand, and after a second I decide to embrace the humiliation and take it. He smiles, “So what brings you here?”

“I-”

“Are you lost?”

“What? No, I-”

“Kwazii.”

“I’m just trying to make conversation, Captain.”

“I know but-”

“Are you here for a tour? I didn’t think they let people do that.”

“Kwazii.” Captain taps him hard on the shoulder.

“Ouch! What is it, Captain?”

“He works here now.”

The man, Kwazzi, steps back, eye wide, then narrowing into basically a slit. I shiver. “Oh.” he lifts his eyes patch, squinting to look at me . . . and then he bursts out laughing.

I feel my entire body heating up with humiliation. Tweak winces.

“Oh, matey, I’m so sorry!” he manages between laughs, “I thought you were a kid. My bad, my bad.” At last, he recovers himself, extending his hand. “You must be Peso. I’m Kwazii, First Lieutenant.”

I don’t shake his hand. He frowns, retracting it and crossing his arms in disappointment. He seems kind, like someone who cares but that only makes it more patronising, only he isn’t wrong. Of course, he thought I was a kid. I am a kid. I don’t belong here with these smart talented adults.

It must show on my face because he softens, he steps forward, then back as if unsure of what to do. I don’t want to be babied. I’m not some creature he has to help. I want to be here to help, and here I am obviously a penguin out of water.

“Oh, I’m not laughing at you, I was laughing at meself, for being so knot-headed”

It’s fine really. I’m used to it, to being underestimated (even though I’m not sure I even have the skills) I don’t let it touch me anymore. (at least that's what I’m trying to tell myself. It’s not working.) I shake my head, not able to help the sign that escapes me. I am so in over my head. I don’t think he meant to be rude (surely not, but maybe insulting rookies is acceptable in scientific communities. Even if he sounds like some sort of pirate, he’s probably waaay smarter than me). “Oh. No, it's perfectly fine, you’re not the first and won’t be the last.”

He stands even farther back, not saying a thing, arms still crossed. His eyes scan over me, as if picking me apart, definitely judging me. He almost looks still, almost, but I can tell he’s not, not on the inside anyway. He can’t seem to truly stand still, his tail and ears twitching impatiently. He rocks on his feet ready to go do whatever it is he does at a moment's notice. Now that he’s as close to still as I suspect he gets I take the chance to really look at him.

The last member of my new team is tall (well, tall to me, and most people are tall to me, so probably medium height), and ginger. Unlike most gingers I’ve seen he’s not actually strawberry blond or a carrot top, but a light shade of orange that changes colour as the light shifts. It’s pretty.

His eye does the same. I can only see the right one and it's hard to tell because he keeps twitching but I think he has heterochromia, the rarer kind where one eye has two colours. The eye that I can see is brown with an amber in a ring around the middle.

But that’s not the strangest thing about him, one of his ears has a piece missing from it. I shiver at the thought of what could’ve done that. Did he get it while on a mission? Luckily they said I won’t have to go on missions . . . probably.

The Captain coughs awkwardly to break the silence. “Kwazii is field personnel, so he spends most of his time outside of the Octopod. You most likely won’t be seeing each other too often.” he looks at me as if trying to assure me. I know it’s unkind, but it makes me feel a bit better that I won’t have to spend much time around Kwazii. He's loud, seems unpredictable and looks dangerous (though I’m sure he’s not).

“That must be very exciting. I’m sure we can get to know each other some other time, then.”

He smiles but like all cats he has fangs, so it’s all teeth. I try my best not to gulp. Thankfully Captain leads me toward the lift. As we walk away I hear Kwazii whisper to Tweak “Huh? Where are they going?” I don’t even know why I turn around, but I do.

“Why aren’t you using the octochute?”

“The what?”

“The octochutes, haven’t you been using them?” I can tell he’s not trying to be mean. He looks so genuinely confused that it’s almost comical. His face is like the "???” expression in real life. It makes me laugh a little, releasing the tension.

“No.”

“Well then how’ve you been getting around, then?”

“I just took the lift.”

“But . . . it’s for equipment?”

“Yes, Shellington told me.”

He still looks incredulous. “The equipment lift? Why in the seven seas would ya do that, matey?”

“I don’t know, I just . . . did.”

“Matey, we ONLY use it for equipment, plus it’s sooo slow, and cold.”

Oh, that would explain why it isn’t nearly as fancy as the rest of the ship and opens into closets. I feel dumb for not realising it before. I guess I just thought they were cramped for space, but of course not. How stupid of me.

“Kwazii. Be polite, I told him too. It is his first day, after all. The octochutes can be a bit shocking at first, and he’s already come a long way to get here. I wanted to ease him into it.”

Kwazii droops, face losing the confusion and entering to a neutral state with no expression at all, after seeing him so energised it looks wrong like excitement is the natural state of his particles.

The Captain leads me away, back into a second equipment lift (I didn’t know there were two), I exhale when it closes and Kwazii and Tweak disappear.

After escaping another closet, we step into a bright blue and white room. It’s filled with medical equipment. This must be the Medical Bay. Through the door’s small window, I can see through the window across the hall. In his laboratory, Shellington is typing away on a desktop. Probably finishing the data he was talking about earlier.

“Here we are.”

I turn back to where the Captain stands. 

“This is the Medical Bay, where you’ll be working for the next few months. You share a sleeping pod with Dashi and there’s an Octochute that will take you there.”

“Sh-hare?” I mean, sure, I’m gay, I’ve known that since I was young, but still, wouldn’t Dashi like her privacy? I’d like my privacy. We barely know each other!

“Oh, not like that, this isn't a sleepaway camp. We’re all professional adults, she gets one half and you get the other, there’s a wall in the middle with an Octochute. If you want Dashi to show you how to use it she’ll be happy to, I’m sure.”

“Oh, okay. Thank you, Captain.”

“I hate to leave you all by yourself, but I have a meeting with Tweak to discuss her latest project. If you need anything just find one of us.”

“Oh, okay.”

He leaves, and then I’m alone. The Octopod must be soundproofed to outside sounds because I can hear nothing but the air system cycling. I pull my phone from my pocket for music, but the battery is dead. Great! And then, I’m not even sure exactly why but I start to cry. I’m an idiot, trapped on a ship with people I don’t know who probably think I’m incompetent and unqualified for a job I didn’t even sign up for. The meeting with Kwazii showed me exactly how much I don’t know. Now here I am, pathetically crying. I miss my family.

There was a cat in my class in primary school, an orange tabby just like First Lieutenant Kwazii. He’d been held back a year so he was taller and bigger than all of us and he was loud too and would always bully the smaller kids and get away with it. I don’t even know why I’m remembering him all of a sudden. I know he and Kwazii aren’t the same, but I’ve never liked loud unpredictable people. They scare me. Maybe that’s why.

And something tells me I’ll be seeing Kwazii in the Medical Bay somewhat often. I’m not sure how to feel about that. I don’t dislike him, of course not, but I feel . . . wary.

Oh well. I won’t allow him or anyone else to interfere with my job. I will prove to myself and them that I can handle myself for a few months. And then it’ll all be over and I’ll get to go home again.

Taking a deep breath, I keep busy by familiarising myself with the workings of the Medical Bay and everything in it. It’s fully stocked with any supplies and equipment I could need so all I brought were clothes. There isn’t much to do, so I resort to cleaning the space that’s probably already sterile, just because it calms me down.

After a while, an announcement comes over the speakers that we’ll be departing for the Mediterranean Sea to aid in the preservation of coral at sunrise tomorrow. 

Before I know it I find myself falling asleep at the work table. Too tired by the day’s events I let myself drift off.

(A/N: Poor Kwazii, he can be kinda scary without meaning to be. He’s just so confused as to why someone wouldn’t want to use the super duper fun octochutes. LOL)

[olderthannetfic]

I am not American so this an actual question: Why do people never use those American names in writing? Kayleigh, Keinleigh, or Lakesha, Shalissa? Saw those names on real people, but no one in America uses names like that in stories? And apparently for the latter names it's racist as well, but those names are actually names people have! So what gives?

--

People absolutely use those names in writing.

White Mormons writing boring het romance novels use ones like the first two all the time.

Really, I cannot emphasize enough how annoying romance novel names are to me. The reason I wouldn't name a character these names is that they look stupid.

I also associate them with demographics of white people I rarely write about.

In fic, you'll see the occasional OFC mary sue badfic with a lead with a name like this. It just depends on the author's own milieu and what names they consider normal.

--

The latter two sound like black people from the city. If you know enough to write black people from the city, great. Much of fanfic fandom is either too white or too suburban, and US media is not kind to such characters, so there's not a lot of incentive to use such names in fanfic.

Publishing overall is very racist and so are book-buying audiences, so a lead named Lakesha will not sell well unless positioned just right. Or at least that's the theory. But it's a theory that affects what mainstream US books you're probably hearing about.

When I've lived in places with black-focused bookstores, I've occasionally run across trashy fiction for a black, urban market, usually from small indie presses that cater to a black audience. Those authors know what they're talking about and will certainly name their characters names that make sense for the setting.

For me personally, it would be hard to tell the difference between an actual name and a racist parody name someone made up. I can tell when a name "sounds black", but that's not enough knowledge to pick a name correctly.

The black people I know offline mostly do not have names like this. I think it's because they're relatively rich, live in relatively non-black areas, and face a lot of pressure to pick names white people find more comfortable. Having a "whiter" name on job applications gets you interviews you will not get with a "black" name both because of racism and classism. A lot of it is probably also regional.

If I wanted to name a character, I'd do some research and choose a relatively common name with its most common spelling for safety. 'Lakesha' can be spelled that way or 'Lakeesha', 'Lakeisha', Lakisha, or Laquisha, among others. This one's, what, Arabic originally? That and Swahili seem to be the ultimate origins of a lot of names we associate with urban black communities. There are plenty of patterns here: I just don't know what they are.

--

Basically, naming characters requires a metric fuckton of sociological knowledge and just being American isn't enough to know about every demographic in the US.

Research is perfectly possible. People do it all the time for naming characters. It's just more work than picking a type of name you already know a lot about.

And on top of that, names sometimes tell you race, class, region, etc. and people may not be writing characters for whom these names make sense.

[whumpinggrounds]

Writing Visible vs Invisible Disabilities

Poll winner! Here goes. I would like to emphasize that my information and knowledge pertains specifically to the USA - I’m going to discuss some legal stuff with accommodations/disability equity that are super specific to America so if you are reading from/writing outside of the USA, you should probably conduct some of your own research on that.

Vocab

Invisible disability, hidden disability, or non-apparent disability are all terms used to describe a disability that is not readily measurable or apparent to sighted individuals. Invisible disability is the most commonly used, but non-apparent is felt to be the most neutral, as “hidden” implies a conscious secrecy and some so-called “invisible” disabilities do become visible or apparent in the right circumstances. Examples may include things like neurological conditions, chronic illnesses, mental illness, or autoimmune diseases.

Personal note: In this post I primarily use invisible disability because to me, it is the most common, and most recognizable. I also use non-apparent, because I think it’s specific and useful. I don’t use hidden because it does seem to carry value judgment, more so than invisible.

Visible disability is a term that describes a disability that is measurable or readily apparent to a sighted individual. Examples might include someone with a partial limb, muscular dystrophy requiring the use of a wheelchair, or a form of dwarfism resulting in a different body shape and size.

Multiple disabilities or multiply disabled refers to a person that has more than one disability.

Cross-disabled or cross-disability is a term that refers to organizations or concerns that apply broadly to people across the spectrum of ability and disability. This is as opposed to organizations or concerns that are specifically tailored or related to a particular disability.

The ADA, or Americans with Disabilities Act, is a piece of cross-disability legislation.

The SMA Foundation (Spinal Muscular Atrophy) is a single disability organization.

Passing is a term sometimes used to describe someone that is not in an identity group but can look or behave as though they do. An example might be a Deaf person using hearing aids to “pass” or be seen as hearing. 

Nondisabled is a good neutral term for people that do not have disabilities. Abled or able-bodied is frequently used, but some see it as creating a hierarchy between abled and disabled people. Try to avoid words like “normal” or “healthy.”

Limb difference is a term describing the partial or complete absence, or malformation, of an arm or leg. This can be congenital (from birth) or acquired.

Facial difference is a term that describes anything above the neck that is visibly different from the majority of other people. I have a post about it that goes into much greater detail.

Self-disclosure means sharing something about oneself. In the context of disability, self-disclosure refers to the decision to share one’s disability status or diagnosis. Generally speaking, self-disclosure is a formal term and in my experience is used when referring to disclosing disability status or diagnosis as part of attending school, starting a new job, or otherwise requesting accommodations. 

Access needs are something that a person needs to communicate, learn, or take part in an activity.

Support needs are sometimes used interchangeably with access needs, but can also refer to a person’s basic needs in order to live (eating, sleeping, bathrooming, etc.)

Accommodations is a term often used to describe legally mandated services provided to a person who has been diagnosed with a disability. These are most commonly in place at a person’s school or work and help a disabled person effectively complete tasks.

Access needs, support needs, and accommodations are similar in nature and are sometimes used interchangeably, but are not always the same thing. I know this is wildly confusing.

Generally speaking, the word “accommodations” (in regards to access) is used primarily in schools, and sometimes in professional working environments. Access needs are used more often in public or professional environments, and support needs in personal environments.

Some examples: Ramps are an access need. They can also be an accommodation, but an accommodation would more likely be phrased as “wheelchair-accessible classrooms or workspaces,” which could either be accessed through ramps or being on the bottom floor.

Assistance with handling finances is a support need. Extra time on tests is an accommodation.

Visible Disability Considerations

Before we get started: I am not saying these things only apply to those with visible disabilities. They may be more common for people with visible disabilities, but people with invisible disabilities could, and many have, experienced the same or similar things. I am not gatekeeping anything; I am just trying to organize this post.

Harassment in public. Someone who is visibly disabled may be openly stared at or subject to ableist abuse because people can tell that they have a disability. Most of what I have to say here relates to this, but there are some specifics I’m going to get into as well.

Being pitied. “Well-meaning” non-disabled people may try to do something “nice” for someone who they see as “less fortunate.” Assistance with things someone doesn’t need assistance with, comments about being brave or inspiring, or offers to pray for someone all fall under this category - all that and more, in fact.

Assumption of incompetence. Sometimes this means that people assume someone with a visible disability is automatically cognitively disabled. Sometimes it means that people believe a visibly disabled person is not capable of performing simple tasks. This can mean anything from being “helped” in a supermarket to being discriminated against when applying for work.

Ableism and discrimination. Everything listed is ableism and discrimination, but it’s worth saying outright. People with visible disabilities are often subject to ableist abuse, hiring discrimination, housing discrimination, and many other kinds of prejudice because they cannot mask or hide their disability, or pass as non-disabled.

People with invisible disabilities also suffer from ableism and discrimination. This is sometimes more common for people with visible disabilities, but can happen to anyone - even, actually, to non-disabled people who are thought to have a disability.

Inappropriate questions. Just because someone is visibly disabled does not mean that anyone is entitled to further information. Asking a stranger “what happened to them” or “what’s wrong with them” is always inappropriate, and is often inappropriate with coworkers or acquaintances as well. Your characters should know someone decently well and be able to gauge your disabled character’s comfort level before asking this kind of question.

Mobility aid policing. Mobility aids are visible, so users often fall under the visible disability umbrella. Sometimes, even though someone is using a mobility aid, random people in public decide they do not need it, or try to argue with them about faking it. Not being visibly disabled “enough,” or not being believed about being disabled, is still a problem for the visibly disabled.

Service dogs can be mobility aids, or other kinds of disability aids. People interacting with them, or trying to interact with them in public, also falls under this category.

Invisible Disability Considerations

Once again: I am not saying these things only apply to those with invisible disabilities. They may be more common for people with invisible disabilities, but people with visible disabilities could, and many have, experienced the same or similar things. I am not gatekeeping anything; I am just trying to organize this post.

Assumption of ability. Someone with an invisible disability may be assumed to be capable of everything a non-disabled person can do. They may have to repeatedly explain why they cannot do certain things or even why they do do things - like take pills, avoid certain foods, or rest more frequently than non-disabled peers. This ties into our next section -

Not being believed about severity or symptoms. People without visible or measurable disabilities can be disbelieved by strangers about their disability status, but also, very painfully, by friends, family, or medical professionals. Since a non-apparent disability may rely on self-report, other systemic biases may come into play here as well, like not believing someone because they’re a woman, or POC. People may also get comments like “you’re too young to be disabled,” “it’s all in your head,” or “you don’t look disabled.”

Again, this can and does also happen to visibly disabled people as well.  

Being accused of lying or faking it. This is obviously the same as not being believed, but is a slightly different manifestation. This is when non-disabled people believe someone is faking having a disability in order to get attention or access to disability resources. Ignoring the fact that that is a completely unrewarding thing to do, this is a combination of disbelief, and suspecting the disabled person in question of intentional malice and selfishness. Again, this can be frustrating and incredibly painful.

Once again. Can and does happen to visibly disabled people.

When to self-disclose. Someone with an invisible disability gets more of a choice in if and when to talk about their disability. This means they have more control over who gets to know, when, how, what, and why, but also comes with problems of its own.

Telling new friends may come with concerns about being viewed or treated differently.

Telling a school or place of work may introduce the risk of scrutiny or discrimination.

Telling anyone risks potential ableism or alienation. 

Asking for accommodations. Possibly more so than a visibly disabled person, a person with a non-apparent disability may have to self-disclose and then actively pursue the fulfillment of their support needs, access needs, or accommodations. I know many people who have voluntarily gone without the accommodations that they are legally entitled to, because they wanted to avoid shitty conversations about them and their needs. 

Being able to go without one’s accommodations and “pass” for non-disabled can be viewed as a privilege, but going without one’s needed support needs, access needs, or accommodations can also be difficult, painful, and sometimes more impossible than a person realizes.

Resource policing. Some people may not be visibly disabled, but may still need resources like a service dog, an accessible parking pass, or use of the accessible bathroom stall. It is not at all uncommon for random people in public to see someone that they don’t think is disabled making use of a public resource for disabled people, and decide to say something about it.

Cross-Disability Considerations

What are your character’s support needs, access needs, and/or accommodations? If they don’t have any, why not?

How is your character perceived? Is their disability apparent to all, some, or none of the people around them? Under what circumstances might it become apparent?

How comfortable is your character with talking about their disability? Is it something that they take pride in, or something they would rather not be defined by? Does it feel very personal to them, or is it not that big of a deal? In what situations do they explain their diagnosis, and in what situations do they decide not to?

In what ways does ableism manifest, or not manifest, in your character’s life? Is there stigma attached to their diagnosis? Why or why not?

How does the medical establishment of your setting view your character’s disability or disabilities? How does that contrast with other disabilities? What is the reasoning behind this?

How does your character feel about medical interventions or cures? How much time/effort/money are they willing to put into medical interventions and cures, and why might that be?

Is your character part of a community or identity group centered around their disability? Do they know anyone with their same disability, or any disabilities at all? How does this community, or the lack of it, feel to them? How does the representation and kinship, or lack thereof, feel to them?

Rethink

This visibly disabled character has it harder than the invisibly disabled character. Or vice versa. Try not to set up hierarchies of suffering or ability. Non-apparent disabilities can be just as disabling, or more so, than visible disabilities. Setting up these two arbitrary categories in conflict is not really necessary, and is ableist no matter what direction it is in.

This character has accommodations/access needs/support needs but doesn’t use them or seem to truly need them. Why would your character have accommodations/access needs/support needs but not use them? Why might it seem “better” to not have these kinds of needs?

This character goes to great lengths to appear non-disabled. Again - why? Not saying you can’t do this, but think about what messages it sends and be intentional in the way you write this.

This character is visibly disabled, but can function exactly like a non-disabled person in every way. Exact same questions as above. Also - how realistic is this? Why might it be important or valuable to adhere to a non-disabled standard? What might be gained or lost?

Resources

As I have mentioned, I don’t like recommending media I haven’t personally read/watched/listened to, because I like to know what I’m recommending. In reviewing my own stuff, I don’t have much for invisible vs. visible resources. I have two books that are pretty general. If anyone else has media that fits with this post, please feel free to add it on!

Demystifying Disability by Emily Landau is a cross-disability primer on disability basics, etiquette, and disability justice. It’s a quick read that I highly recommend.

Disability Visibility, collected by Alice Wong, is a book of essays written by disabled people about their lives, thoughts, and experiences. It’s super engaging and informative, and I also highly recommend, particularly because these people are talking about their own lives in their own words.

[marunalu]

I had never realized that Hisashi doesn't even go home for New Year's, as it is extremely common for people who work far from home to come back to at least spend New Year's with their family, he doesn't do that... Tsuyu's parents work abroad and come home sometimes

also apparently Inko just didn't question or find strange her son suddenly having yet another Quirk

I remember I talked with a few others about that 2 years ago or so. The fact that hisashi doesnt even come home for new year despite that its considered the most important family holiday in japan is the main reason why I dont and cant believe that he is a normal guy working in an office or even as a hero somewhere overseas. No matter how far away they work and no matter how important the job is, japanese people will always come home for new year and visit their family. New year for them is more important then christmas, birthdays or any other kind of special days and holidays. If hisashi has only an office job abroad there is no way why he shouldnt come home for the most special day you are supposed to spent with your loved ones.

And the same goes if he was a hero working outside of japan. Why should a japanese man work as a hero overseas and not in his own home country in the first place? All might was a special case and he returned to his own home country after a few years in america. All the countrys have their own heroes. We dont see any heroes from other countrys LIVING in japan and working there, so why should it be the other way around? Also, lets not even mention there is no way that hisashi is a hero and izuku wouldnt have mentioned him and that fact at least once. As if izuku would be able to shut up about his hero father. And like I mentioned, lets say some heroes do work and live in other countrys then their own home country, thats again no reason for hisashi not to show up home at new year! Nobody can tell me other countrys dont have enough heroes on their own so one of them cant visit his family for ONE DAY! Nope! No way! Hisashi is neither an normal office guy nor is he a hero. It would make zero sense at this point of the story.

But hisashi being secretly a villain, needing to hide his identity and isolating himself from his family? Thats a whole other story and explains perfectly why he cant just show up in front of their appartment door. Not even to mention that neither inko nor izuku seem to question his absence and are sad about it. They behave as if their family only was just the two of them and thats why I still go with the "memory manipulation quirk" theory that made hisashis existence simply vanish from their memorys.

[lyrenminth]

When we were together

Summary: You and Joe split and meet years after, he realized he fucked up and is mad/sad to see how happy you are without him and starting to regret he left you walk away. 

Warning: I mean Joe is a selfish prick is we look it objetively haha Grammar mistakes.

"I can't do this anymore, I'm sorry" you said, your fists tight, your stomach clenched in a tight knot. Many sleepless nights brought you here. You didn't know if you would regret one day, but today it was a decision taken consciously. "Are you serious?" Joe's inexpressive face hurt a little bit. He always has this pretty face and pinky lips you dreamed your children would have one day. "I'm breaking up with you, Joe" you stated, not making eye contact. After eight years together it was so uncommon for a WAG to leave this late, but since there was no ring and no signed papers leaving was easier.

“Why?" He raised his voice "Why are you leaving me?" You closed your eyes, trying not to cry. "Because it is better that way. We don't spend  many time together anyway, you are busy and I'm busy. That's it"

"That's it? It's what you have to say?" he frowned "And we spend time together"

"No, we don't and I don't want to discuss it" you contradict him. You had discussions about this topic all the time.

"Well, I want to. You can't leave me, we have been together eight years"

 "And that's enough for me" you said harshly, Joe expression was a hurt one, like you just slapped him. "Sorry, I didn't mean to be rude" you sighed, tired and wanting to be as far away from him as possible. You told you closest friends and your family in advance about your decision. You friends weren't so convinced since you had stability with Joe, but your parents were more understanding about the matter. You didn't know why love vanished from you. Maybe it was the routine or how lonely you felt during the season, but one day you woke up and saw Joe as a roommate rather than a boyfriend. And his house started to feel foreign, and his presence wasn't wonderful anymore. And you thought the feeling would be temporary because everyone loved Joe, and you should too. He gave you many things other men could never, but it wasn't enough. You tried to loved him again, going to dates, dressing cute but in general the experience felt so bad. And the blame drown you. How could you think even for a moment to leave a man like him? Handsome, athletic, rich, popular and down-to-earth. "If you leave him, you are going to regret it deeply" a friend told you "You are not gonna find someone like him elsewhere" Maybe you don't, maybe you would regret it for life. But crying every night wasn't your long term option. You couldn’t live like this forever. You weren't attracted to him anymore, a sour and true feeling. And if you brain were smarter, you would have stayed and enjoy the expensive lifestyle, but since your heart was slowly dying you decide to leave."If it is what you truly want, then what can I do?" He said sadly. He wasn’t even fighting for this  "But let not make a mess about it, it wouldn’t be good for my image"

You don't. People didn't realize Joe was single after a couple of months later during a interview when he denied to have girlfriend. 

***

You built a new life far away from anything football related. You stayed in contact with some of the girls, but always went out during the off-season and never talked about Joe or football in your presence. Sometimes you felt like an outcast but they truly enjoyed your company. You noticed Joe's popularity rise and you watched his commercials in public spaces. When you moved for a job opportunity in another country you got the news that he won his first Super Bowl ring and you were happy for him. You reminded him fondly. You bet he hated all the attention he was receiving, but it was the way it was. After his win, you didn't hear about him at all, until you went back to America, now as a married woman. You saw each other at a wedding from a friend in common. You genuinely thought Matt would never get married, so when you received the invitation you had to see it first hand. You saw Joe in the ceremony, he was dating a beautiful woman that you knew later was a model. You made eye contact across the crowd, it was just a second but you could tell he was surprised. Then his eyes focused on the person next to you, your husband. You felt a little guilty not knowing why. You made a life after him, not avoidable.

You enjoyed the wedding, chatting with old friends and catching up, meeting their partners and babies. A few of them didn't know you were married and you introduce them to your husband. When the party started, you dance together. Your hubby was a good dancer, and both enjoyed the party between laughs and alcohol. 

  ***

Joe hated it. He felt fucking sick. 

You were gorgeous as you always were, your blue dress flying around, your naked back he touched many times before. Your childish smile...How could you do so well without him? He was hurt, his ego was hurt. His pride didn't let him to approach you, but when he saw you leave to the gardens, his feet started moving. He wanted to see you again, touch you. See how much you have changed. Why do you married someone else and not him. Why do you moved on when he still had a little silly hope that got crushed when he saw that ring in your finger. Why he wasn't enough? Why, why, why. He loved you so much, and he failed in many ways. You were a simple woman, you never cared about money or luxury things, but the things you care for he couldn't give it to you. Against his pride, he had to admitted to himself that letting you go and letting your relationship sour and die was the only regret of his life. So when he saw you in that bench, staring at the night sky he felt sad. Hurting from memories. You always saw him as Joe Burrow, the guy from Athens, fan of Starts Wars and geeky stuff, the perfectionist and grumpy man. The insecure boy about his teeth and appearance. The anxious man who people has never seen on screen. You knew those sides of him. He loved you since college and those feelings punched him in the gut watching you there. 

He walked towards you in silence, when you looked up to him, you got startled. "Joe" your voice sounded strained, surprised. You looked older, your hair had its natural color. When he entered to the NFL you decided to dye it blonde, but always loved your brown hair. 

"Hello" he said, a little nervous.

"What are you doing here?" you stand up, looking around. You were alone.

"I want to talk to you"

"Oh, about...what" you asked, flat.

"I wanted to see how are you doing" he shrugged, his hands in his pockets. "Oh, I'm doing well" you said, looking at his blue eyes. The black suit made wonders on him. "I'm married know, I live in London, have you been? It's a nice city" you babble. He felt a sharp pain across his chest. "No, no, you know..." he started.

"You don't like long flights" you finished for him. A short silence between you. The tension rising.

"Can I sit? " He got closer and took a seat, you sat down a few inches apart rigid. "You are dating someone I suppose?" Joe nodded without hesitation. "Nothing serious she wanted help with her model career, I'm helping her until she gets a contract" he shrugged.

 "Oh, that's...well, good for her" he smiled a little bit, he was still staring, studying your face. He noticed a few white hairs too, but your eyes were kind as always. Your lips were red and plump as he remembers. 

 "I can't believe Matt got married" you said, looking the flowers in front of you. "Yeah, I have been wishing many things tonight" he replied as a joke.

"Like what?" He shrugged with nothing to say apparently. The true was he didn’t want to say it out loud.

 "Winning another Super Bowl?" You added. "Did you watch the game?" he asked, hopeful. It was a great moment in his career.

"No, I couldn't" you answer disappointed  him. You were beating him without knowing. Damn you were completely over him. And why you shouldn't? You were resilient, strong on your own. What a selfish piece of crap he was. When you broke up with him, he thought you were going to comeback to him after a couple of months, when that didn't happen he thought you needed time, and when that time become years he realized he fucked up. Of course, you were dating Joe Burrow the guy from Athens, not Joe Burrow the Superstar Quarterback. Because yes, you break up with him because he didn't pay attention to the relationship. Because he thought you were staying no matter what. He took you from granted and he lost you.

"Are you ok? You look tired" He hear you voice and went back to his senses. "Yeah, it has been a long day" 

"Well, I'm happy you are doing well, Joe" he looked you, your answer was genuine he could tell. You were smiling at him. “I hope you continue your career as healthy as you could be. I wish you the best, truly”

He stared at you long and hard. He felt a sting in his eyes and looked down. How could you be so kind after so many years? and why it seemed like another goodbye from you?

"Yeah, thank you" he coughed “I wish you well too. Can I asked you something?”

“Yes, go ahead”

“Are you happy with him?” he asked.

You blushed. "Yes, I am" He sighed feeling suddenly more older and tired than ever. "Glad to hear, you deserved it”

“You are going to find someone too, Joe” if you were trying to comfort him, it didn’t work. It was pretty much the opposite.

 “I need to come back. Take care" He stood up. He walked a couple of steps when he turned around and said:

"Just for the record, I also wish I had done things differently when we were together" 

[monstress]

hii. if u dont mind, could u please share that "change of attitude" towards journaling? i feel like i really need that.. since i myself changed my attitude towards drawing and have been much more productive and happy doing it this last year. however Writing About Myself its another beast completely.. hope u r having a nice day! 🍃

hope you're having a lovely day as well! anyways as i was typing this up, what starts as a small tidbit has gone off the rails so i suppose this is my blanket advice as a newbie in journaling:

the materials!

choosing the titular journal aka notebook:

soft vs hard cover - i didn't realize this is SUCH a deciding factor until much later. most people prefer soft covers since journals can get massive with use but it's very subjective. be tactile - if it just don't feel right in ur hands, it's not gonna be something u reach out for when u have free time.

size - the most common sizes are A5, A6 or regular aka travelers notebook. you have to think abt who you are as a writer. do u have a large handwriting that takes up pages and pages? do you like space or are you overwhelmed by a blank page? do you travel a lot and do u want something unobtrusive in your bag? choose something that will reasonable work as a part of your daily life.

paper texture - paper that is smooth to write in are a great source of pleasure. notebooks with 100gsm paper is a good benchmark.

price - pleaseeee do not break the bank to purchase a fancy notebook. an expensive notebook can become an unloved one. you'd be too stressed to ensure every entry is perfect and pretty enough and the notebook eventually becomes too intimidating for you to fill in. check out your local hypermarket or online stores for quality notebooks. moleskins are overrated--in my country, they are v v expensive so don't feel pressure to buy a certain stationary just bc you see them often on ig/tiktok like my journal cost me approximately RM10 (USD2.34) and my new one w 100gsm paper cost me RM17 (USD4) like affordable options are out there!

build a connection with your notebook - listen...this sounds strange but having an attachment with your journal and making it inviting as possible is a great source of motivation. personalize it: add stickers, doodle or paint the cover. get a fabric/pvc cover to keep it clean if you'd like (you can add lil papers/stickers on ur actual notebook cover before putting on the pvc cover! very cute and easy)

and your pens:

again: less is more! use any relatively cheap pens you like - be it for the ink or smoothness. if you want to journal a lot, expect to lose a few pens during traveling or just around the house lmao

for fans of darker inks like me, i use Uni-ball Signo Broad, M&G R3 retractable gel pen and my favorite: Faber Castell RX Gel Pen 0.38mm - which cost like RM1.49 (i dont wanna convert - it's change money in america)

final note: i don't use fountain pens so i'm afraid i'm not well-versed enough to advise in that department but i deeply respect (and a little in awe) of journallers who use them 🫡

the tenet!

purpose: what do u plan to use the notebook for? daily journal? art journal? planner? all three? it's your life! live deliciously! since i have a 9-5 job, i know i can't keep up with more than one journal so i've been using mines as a diary and i dump my daily activities/thoughts/reviews of all kinds of media i'm currently obsessed with and it fills up quick!

don't be too hard on yourself: if you missed a day or two of journalling, it's fine - take it back up. write down anything memorable you'd like in the past few days. if you come across a certain blank page your brain is blanking to fill, perhaps after a previous dark entry, skip the page. skip two pages if needed. don't be scared of blank pages. if it needs to be blank, let it be.

it doesn't have to only be words! add stickers, dried flowers, receipts, ticket stubs, other ephemera you collected in the day. be artful! go crazy on page decoration!!

if there's anything you take away from this post, it's this: if you truly want a journal that is used up quickly, do not have plans to share it on social media. personally, i find once you are in the mindset of sharing your journal for an audience's consumption, you get worried whether it's "aesthetic" enough or is it too boring or too ugly or too dark or that you don't upload regularly enough. social media can be inhibiting your creativity or motivation to journal like let your animal brain ruminate in private! stay free from the shackles of responsibility!

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

So my inbox currently contains over 1,600 messages. I am getting Very Overwhelmed, apologies to everyone who is waiting for me to get back to them.

Something I have spotted, though, is that far too many of these have a common theme. Of the top thirty currently sitting at the top of my inbox, 19 are questions about haircare and the CGM. Of those, 12 are exactly the same question - namely, "Is co-washing just washing with conditioner instead of shampoo?" - which I have answered multiple times in multiple different posts, all of which are in my "Hair" tag (the answer is yes, please stop asking).

The other 7 are different hair questions - but, all but one is something I have answered before, in most cases more than once. Again, in my "Hair" tag.

Babes. Loves. Silly rabbits.

I did not sign up to be customer support for CGM.

Listen; I love you all! And I don't mind people asking me novel questions, even, within reason (although I am about to come to that)! But it is not my job to provide this information, and it is absolutely not my job, obligation, responsibility or anything else to keep writing out the SAME INFORMATION again and again and again. It is certainly absolutely not my pleasure to do so, either. I have explained how the method works now. I have explained the sorts of things to avoid. I have recommended CG friendly products. I have tagged all of this.

If you're going to ask me about this stuff, for the love of all that's holy, would you PLEASE look through my damn hair tag first and save me the increasingly stressful task of opening my inbox and seeing another five variants of the exact same already-answered question in a single day. I am not here to provide you a service. I'm here to do you a favour - PLEASE do me one, and check you aren't very literally wasting my time first. As I say, I am more than happy to answer novel questions on this! I'm also happy to clarify if I've worded something in a confusing way! But identical process questions for the seventeenth time in a week is starting to feel disrespectful.

But, I have to also say:

I am just Some Guy on the internet. I am not a professional. I have joked that I am not a Hairxpert, and you've all gone "Lol, yeah, not a Hairxpert, we get it - anyway, what products in America are good? What's your advice for <hair type you don't have?> If I live in an area with hard water (unlike you), what should I do?"

I am Not A Professional.

If you need specialist advice, YOU NEED TO GO AND FIND A SUPPORT GROUP. Buy the handbook, like I did! Go and find one of the hundreds of CGM websites that are free to use! Find a sub-Reddit! These will be full of people who actually are professionals, and will be able to answer these questions. I cannot tell you how best to adapt the method I use for type 4 curls, because I don't have those; you need a professional, or a support group with people who have type 4 curls. I cannot tell you the best styling and drying techniques for pixie cut curls, because my hair is down to my ass; you need a professional, or a support group of curly people with pixie cuts. I cannot tell you the best products to use on a remote island nation I have never even visited; you need a professional, or at the very least, a neighbour.

In fact, as an addendum to that last one, I have now been asked by six different people on separate occasions what my advice is for them because they live on "an island" and can't get the products I use and also can't get Amazon, and... guys!!!? How could I possibly answer that??? You haven't even told me which island, for one, but for quite another, if I'm not a hair expert, I'm certainly not an International Shipping To Remote Islands expert!!! What do you want from me?? I'm just some guy. Who uses a method. I can tell you the basics of it (which I have, extensively), and I can tell you what I personally do (which I have, extensively), and that's it. I have zero expertise beyond that. Anything else is information I would have to try and get from a support group of other people to report back, at which point, you bloody do it. I am not CGM customer support.

To reiterate - I truly, honestly, don't mind getting novel questions that I haven't already answered, or clarifying things that might be confusing; to be honest, it's not like I even massively mind someone going "I live in a desert, how could I combat dryness?". But if you ask me, a Welsh woman, a question like that, you're going to have to accept that my advice is, at best, going to be guesswork or second/third-hand information I once saw someone else mention online somewhere that I have now mostly forgotten if I ever truly saw it at all. Because I do not live in a desert, and I am not a professional.

ALSO A NON-HAIR POINT

I said at the start of this post that 19 of the top thirty messages in my inbox right now are hair questions. Five, though, follow a different pattern.

I imagine this is part of my follower count still exploding (I gained another three thousand of you since August, to give an idea; where the fuck are you all coming from?!? Really like grilled cheese adventures, huh), but I've started getting A LOT of messages from people who blatantly want to use me as a billboard to get their message out. Sometimes a serious message about a vital global issue, sometimes a relatively trivial one about a piece of media they want people to see, and anything in between.

I sympathise. I do understand. But I am not a billboard.

Apart from anything else, I just don't have the time to go fact checking and researching everything to make sure I'm being a Good Billboard, and it would be incredibly irresponsible of me to avoid that step and just blindly go "Sure, yeah, signal boost" and hit publish. If you send me one of these, I am unlikely to do anything with it, I'm sorry. It might put something on my radar, and make me more likely to pay attention when I see the issue being posted organically - when the Iranian protests began someone sent me a message asking me to reblog a particular user's post about it (not their own, it was a separate user). I didn't post that ask, but I did go and manually check the user in question's blog, found a good infographic post there about the protests, and I was able to reblog that. That was fine. But even then, if I hadn't had the time to do that (my life is very busy), that ask would have been buried.

Anyway, I don't want to discourage asks in my inbox generally, nor is this me yelling at anyone or telling anyone off. But with the hair thing in particular, I cannot go on like this pls take pity T_T

[council-of-beetroot]

I had a dream I published this without making it anonymous lmao

I like ameliet only if it's done well. In my own family, people like my great great grandmother came to America at the age of 16 alone so I have that connection to the eastern European immigrant experience that Tolys has.

Seeing my last post this is hypocritical but it's not like I care that much because I read anything and will still enjoy it.

Common things I see in ameliet that I dislike

Alfred being interested in Tolys' culture

Especially during this era, assimilation was expected of any immigrants at the time. I don't see Alfred learning Lithuanian or learning Lithuanian cooking or whatever because all that was seen as something you left at the docks the moment you stepped foot in America as an immigrant during those times

The 1920s itself

I know it's canon but I personally in my fics have the outsourcing somewhere between 1890-1915. This is because in 1921 the us restricted immigration based on race and ethnicity so that the only people that could really move to America were Canadians or Western Europe such as the UK or Sweden. But I won't complain since it is canon.

Alfred as Tolys' saviour

I think this is just one annoys me because America has very little to do with say things like Lithuanian independence and the like. Also the way I see it depicted often renders Lithuania completely powerless and unable to lift himself up.

Now onto the other thoughts

I want to see more in outsourcing fics someone calling Tolys polish or Russian as at the time you could be labelled on papers as Russian despite not being ethnically Russian because your country was a part of Russia. For example my Great Great Grandfather's records are listed in the Russians to America files.

if it's the 1920s even better because you can have someone calling Tolys a Pollack and he gets pissed off, but not because it was meant as an insult but because how dare they mistake him for ugh a pole. 1920s is like the worst points for Tolys and Lithuania.

More red scare stuff too please

Tolys confronting the difference between his own experiences living with Alfred and his countrymen who are living in America working backbreaking jobs in poverty with little support. Yeah my great great grandfather ignacy for example was a miner upon immigrating to America. The work was literally back breaking in his case and he fractured his dorsal vertibrae which is incredibly painful but he managed to live with it for nearly 18 years until he got septicemia and died at 52. American dream amiright? There were instances where immigrants who tried to unionize were met with violence. I just think it would be interesting to see tolys grapple with this as he knows what it is like to work in a hostile environment.

Cold war era for example, I think Tolys would also have to grapple with the fact that he has romanticized America like literally as such a great place and Alfred is so much better than Ivan. So then when say Alfred does equally dumb stuff Liet finds it hard to take in.

1992 Barcelona Olympics these two and basketball. Read my basketball fic okay

Tolys thinking that certain things are normal American things as he doesn't realize it's literally something only Alfred does

The Feliks and The Baltics thinking Liet is an Expert about america but his knowledge no longer useful as it's been how many years. Same with slang

Tolys sabotaging his own relationship with Alfred because he thinks Alfred will manipulate him or end up hurting him like past relationships.

Tolys realizing Alfred's naïvete like omfg this is so good. Also Alfred turning to Tolys as almost a mentor or source of advice because Alfred on a nation scale is quite young

Also Alfred not grasping the reality of his actions because he has never been in a place where he has lost that power or been at the mercy of others while powerless. But Tolys is like wait a minute

Tolys having known both Alfred and Ivan and seeing what makes them different and quite similar

The awkwardness of moving in with someone you don't know well

Here is my fic that has ameliet as the backdrop of the fic

[writer168]

I've read your "the lemonade stand" and i'm really curious how the events that happened in "Hoshigaki" and "Eight" trasfer to it, so if you had perhaps an outline of it and don't mind sharing, please share, i'm wracking my brain for how it could work.

Have a wonderful whatever-time-is-it-where-you-are!

hi!

so the barebones ideas i have for team eight's lore in the lemonade stand goes something like this:

the akatsuki have based themselves in north america, but kisame leaves sakura in tokyo with an old relative on his wife's side and doesn't keep in contact, hoping for the best and living with the guilt the second he drops her off. unbeknownst to him, that relative passes a few weeks later and sakura is promptly shuttled into an orphanage

the years sakura spends there helps her grow into the calm, smart, calculating version we all know and love in the original hoshigaki-verse. naruto is a part of the same orphanage but they don't really interact. she sees him cause trouble, get chastised by the works, watches the cycle spin over and over. but it's none of her business and he's never really talked to her, so she keeps her head down and spends her free time finishing homework that's too easy for her and sticking her nose in library books until curfew hits

she meets kiba sometime in the middle of elementary school and her free time splits to spend some time at the circuit of shelters and veterinary clinics the inuzuka family owns

by junior high, sakura and kiba are thick as thieves. the first day of their first year, they meet shino and immediately get him in trouble with them. they spend that day's detention under kurenai yuuhi, their homeroom teacher. from that day on, shino's sucked into their group and they gain a reputation for themselves by racking up more absences than attendances and most teachers couldn't care less about what they do with their time. they still turn in their assignments, still keep up their grades, and if they keep their 'delinquent tendencies' out of their sight, it's not their problem

kurenai disagrees. they're good kids, she knows it, and she'll try to help steer them on the right path no matter how many detentions she has to host for them. now if only they could take it seriously and stop bringing her cheap snacks to bribe her into letting them leave early

it's also in junior high that naruto starts hanging around sakura and her friends. they both had growing up in the orphanage in common, and both had that troublemaking gene, and it was both of them that went out of the orphanage together to make a deal with a landlord who didn't mind renting out some rooms to a couple punk kids who were tired of the group home. the kids were scrappy and clever and knew their way around the streets so he offered them this: a unit for each of them if they ran odd jobs for him whenever he needed them to. when they made deliveries, they'd never look into a package. when he sent them to check up on people, they wouldn't get caught - if they did, he wasn't doing anything to get them out of it

anything beat going back to the orphanage. so they agreed

back at school the other teachers keep telling kurenai it isn't worth the effort, especially when police officer tenzo keeps hauling them back to the school if he can catch them out during school hours. but what they don't care to notice is how police sergeant tenzo is half trying to keep himself from laughing along with these kids and half trying not to worry himself gray when he find that they've thrown themselves into another fight with another group at another school. it doesn't matter if they keep winning, and it's certainly not funny when kiba's cheek is so swollen that it makes him talk weird for a week

but what tenzo's really worried about isn't the fights or the truancy or how scary smart these kids can really be. it's that because they're scary smart that they'll get in trouble with the worst sort of people one day, and him and kurenai won't be enough to save them

his fears are realized in the kids' second year of junior high when one day, they disappear

kurenai is distraught. her and tenzo are the only ones outside of the inuzuka and aburame families that actually care that the kids are gone, and along with it comes some gutting realizations. her the kids never stirred up any real trouble, per se, but they never made many friends at school or got in any other teacher's good graces or care enough to actually address the reputations they've built up for themselves

for a year and a half, she mourns them. she watches inuzuka tsume demand the police to find her son and why the hell aren't you doing anything he's out there and he's thirteen and if you don't do something he'll be dead. she watches aburame shibi, the quiet and polite managing partner of the renowned Aburame Law Offices, blame his son's friends for turning him into another bad kid when he has such a bright future ahead of him. she watches as tenzo tries his best to keep their case open because he's so sure they're still out there despite it growing cold around the edges; he'll never give up on them, he says, even when everyone up to the superintendent general of the tokyo metropolitan police department - second in rank only to the chief of japan's national police agency - thinks he's chasing shadows. she watches as naruto never loses hope of sakura and kiba and shino coming home and... and that one has a particular sting to it. especially when it's only recently that an explosive altercation between him and his best rival landed naruto a couple month's stay in the hospital and had sasuke whisked off somewhere out of japan without leaving so much as a phone number behind

kurenai never loses hope, and it's that same hope that kills her a little bit every day

everything changes when naruto starts his first year of senior high school. because three kids stroll onto the same school grounds like they hadn't ever gone missing in the first place. sakura, taller and stronger and indifferent and with a shock of pink hair. kiba, louder and angrier and sharper and a hearing aid in one ear. shino, more brazen and colder and more blunt and never taking off the dark sunglasses he's taken to wearing on his face

they're back, and it's like the warmth has found its way back into kurenai's blood

(it's later when the kids and kurenai and tenzo flee to north america for a charge of a murder they didn't commit that the latter two find out what really happened. one day when the kids were skipping school like usual, they see police officers dumping the body of a missing child. back then they hadn't been quick enough or strong enough or wise enough to react accordingly and get sucked into a dark conspiracy that they never wanted to be a part of in the first place. superintendent general shimura danzo is kidnapping kids, he had once sold some of them to disgraced scientist orochimaru to supplement illegal experimentation, and prime minister sarutobi hiruzen was covering it all up.)

((then, superintendent shimura finds out there are witnesses. he figures them out, packs up three teenagers into a shipping crate and loads them up on a ship, and sends them off to their deaths. when their bodies are inevitably found, it won't be hard to spin it: "three juvenile deliquents up to no good. something like this was bound to happen. what a shame, what a tragedy. may their souls end up in a better place than their bodies did."))

the conspiracies end up coming to light by the time the kids are sixteen, exposing a rotten and corrupt system that the new prime minister, senju tsunade, is quickly and aggressively working to root (ha) out. but even as names clear and charges drop and japan is ready to welcome three misjudged teenagers back with open arms, they decide to stay in north america.

kiba's intrigued with the goings-on in technology department at RAIN Securities and would probably go to college for something in the field. he's a whizz with tech anyway, and he knows they're probably going to pay for his degree in exchange for his employment

shino knows he's going to put himself on track for medical school. kiba and sakura are always getting hurt and he wants nothing more than to devote himself to the little family they've made for themselves. keeping them safe and healthy will always be in his top priorities, and he's already had exposure helping the medical team at catatumbo sanctuary in south africa. sure it was all veterinary medicine, but at least he knows he's interested in that sort of science

and sakura, well, isn't sure what to do with herself. she's content with floating through high school and taking general courses in college until she finds something worth doing. maybe she'll find something in physics; the subject makes kiba gag, and that's as good a reason as any to study it

it's not like the north american high schools are much different than the ones in japan when it comes down to what matters, anyway. she doesn't make any other friends in the school, she doesn't endear herself to the staff, she submits her assignments and takes her tests and thinks that they school should be lucky they don't have to deal with her and the boys' truancy habits this time around. the days go by and she spends her time after school in a rotation of places: her dad's gym, konan's company, sasori's tattoo shop, kakuzu's car customs shop. it's more of a variety than japan, but it's still routine. she doesn't expect any change

then one fateful day, she gets a project partner in the form of the the football team's pretty boy. and the timeline of the lemonade stand begins :)

this... really got away from me lmao. the outline turned out to be both way more information than i thought i'd get down and not enough detail to fully explain how the world is molded by the events of the hoshigaki-verse, but i hope it's a good structure to give you some idea of how things went down! i could definitely make a prequel fic to elaborate on the world, but we all know i'm already struggling to update my current fics lmaooooo

but if you have any specific questions, i'd be happy to answer them! thank you for your wonderful ask! <3

[fanfic-scribbles]

Dinner Date Chapter 29

Masterlist

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Overall Story Facts:

Fandom: MCU Captain America/Avengers

Story Summary: Steve Rogers has a girlfriend. A prickly, generally asocial girlfriend, but they make it work. They have more in common than some people might think.

Quick Facts: Romance – Steve Rogers/Reader – Female Reader

Story Warnings: Reader-insert that verges on OFC, written in 1st person past tense

Chapter 29: Cold and Dark

Chapter Summary: Winter is stupid.

Chapter Word Count: 2166

~

Work was stupid. People were stupid. Wind was stupid. Snow was stupid. The sun going down before dinner was stupid.

Everything was stupid.

I looked around my cold apartment, lit only by the front light I bothered to turn on, and went over my priorities for the rest of the night. Those being: dinner, and bed. Dinner was also stupid. I could go out and get food. I could order food. I could try and scavenge through what I had. But I thought of how much work it was just to figure out dinner, and how tired I was, and decided, fuck it, fuck dinner, I was going to bed. Never mind it wasn’t even seven yet. I was an adult and it was Friday so who cared if I fucked up my sleep schedule a little. Steve was off at some super-secret training thing, (“It’s basically a work seminar, I don’t know why Fury has to be so dramatic about everything,” Steve had opined a week ago, with nary a glimmer of self-recognition), so I had no reason to stay up, and if I slept then I wouldn’t be hungry, and saving myself a few calories was probably a good thing, right?

My stomach grumbled but I ignored it and trudged to my room. Also, if I went to bed I could just curl up under the covers and save some money on heating, which was also good. Saving money, saving calories, saving energy. Good fucking job.

I briefly considered warming up first with a shower and washing away the week, but it too ended up seeming like way more work than I wanted. Instead, I dressed for bed and slid under cold sheets to distract me from getting even more negative and grouchy than I already was. When I did eventually warm up I didn’t really sleep, but I did get to doze a little. Enough that I had a dream of Steve coming home, walking into my apartment like he belonged there (which made me smile), kneeling next to my bed, putting his cold hand on my face–

I blinked open my eyes, because that felt– real. Wait. This was real. “Steve?” I asked and took his hand in both of mine to try and warm it up. I tried to lift my head but I felt groggy still, so I let it fall back on the pillow as I woke up fully. “What are you doing here?”

“I thought I’d surprise you,” he said and flicked on the bedside lamp so I could better see his worried frown. Or maybe so he could better see me, though he was definitely getting the bad end of that deal. “Are you sick?”

“No.” I sighed, and then immediately broke into a yawn. “It’s just…cold. And I’m gross. And kind of miserable.” I considered moving. “Give me a second and I’ll get up.”

“You don’t have to,” he said and kissed my cheek.

“Are you gonna crawl in too?” I asked hopefully. I was not up for anything resembling physical activity, but I was totally down to cling to Steve like a limpet and suck up all his heat.

“In a minute. I’m going to take care of a few things first,” he said and stood. “Did you have dinner yet?”

“It’s too much work,” I said and curled up again. “I’m fine without it.”

He stayed there for a moment. “You aren’t going to eat at all?”

“It’s one meal. It won’t kill me,” I said. My stomach grumbled and I pinched it. Traitor.

He hesitated longer but before I could reassure him that I was fine, I was fully stacked for the winter (as if he could forget), he said, “Okay. I’ll be right back,” and left.

While he was out in the living room doing who-knew-what, I flipped on the other bedside lamp and scooted over to try and warm his spot a little bit so he wouldn’t have the shock of discomfort that was cold sheets. Because I was the best girlfriend ever.

Steve came back in just his pants and tank top, carrying a couple of drinks and a…tray? A tray that was covered with the miscellaneous snacks I’d had floating around in my cupboard and fridge, apparently. Steve set it down next to me as he slipped off his jeans to change into his sweats, and I lifted the paper towels to see what he had used for this impromptu snack party. “Oh shit; I was wondering where my baking sheet went,” I said and picked up the tray to hold it steady as he slipped under the covers. “I can make cookies again.”

That felt like a stupid thing to say, considering I couldn’t even do the minimal work of ordering a dinner for someone else to cook, but Steve smiled at me and I forgot to be mad at myself. “I’m glad you came to see me,” I said and leaned over to give and receive a kiss. “I’m sorry it’s not a nice homecoming.”

“I think it’s great. I ordered some food for us, but right now, sitting in bed with snacks sounds like the best thing in the world,” he said, took the tray onto his lap, and handed me one of the bottles he’d carried in. He gave me his best pleading eyes and added, “Will you share with me?”

I held my stomach tighter. Mostly-unbroken chips, a fancy trail mix I’d bought on a whim, some budget cookies I was too cheap to throw out– he’d even pulled together some crackers, torn up some leftover lunchmeat, and added some cheese for a poor man’s charcuterie. “I’m sorry you had to do all this work when you just got home,” I said as I took one of the cookies.

“I’m the one mooching off your apartment and food,” he said, snagging a couple pieces of cheese.

“I’m glad you are though. I’m always happy to have you here.” I pressed my forehead to his shoulder. “But you put the snacks together, ordered dinner…” And all I had done was crawl into bed.

“I had a good idea for dinner. You know I don’t mind,” he said, briefly pressing his head to mine as he took a cracker and stacked it with some meat and cheese. “I know dinner is a lot to think of sometimes, but you still need to eat.”

“Eh.”

“Hey.” He gently bonked his head to mine, almost making me drop the cracker and cheese I had just grabbed. “No skipping meals.”

“I didn’t want to,” I said. “But it’s not like it’d kill me. I’m not doing a whole lot that needs the calories.”

“Existing requires calories,” Steve said, like he was sharing an implacable truth.

Well…he kinda was. “Existing is stupid,” I said as a I munched and snuggled into him. After a moment, though, I reconsidered my words, and quickly swallowed my bite. “That came out sounding worse than I actually meant it.”

“Yeah, I got the meaning by your grumbling,” he chuckled and kissed my head. “Winter’s really getting to you, huh?”

“It’s stupid. And cold. And dark. And stupid.” I sighed as he rubbed my back. “And I’m going to miss it when summer is hot and bright and stupid. Seasons are terrible.”

“They’ve got their downsides,” Steve said. “But right now, winter is for warm blankets, and eating food. So we’ve got the right idea.”

“If you say so.” I kept sliding down though, until I was laying only slightly propped, and able to semi-burrow into his side. He slipped me another cracker, and I ate it. “I do like this,” I admitted and pushed my head closer into him. Laying down, resting my eyes and snacking with Steve felt…cozy. “How was your super-secret seminar?”

He sighed so dramatically, and then, without any further prompting, proceeded to tell me as much as he could, considering that the super-secret seminar was actually a super-secret mission, (“oops,” as Natasha had said), and he ended up being a decoy so Natasha and ‘someone else’ could do the real work–

He only stopped complaining to go get the food when it arrived, and though I would have been content to just eat crackers and listen to him bitch, I managed to pull myself up and eagerly take my container when he handed it to me. The tray was nearly empty at that point so it was easy enough for him to brush the crumbs aside so he could use it as a makeshift lap table for his multiple containers, and then he was right back to telling me how bad it was to have to mingle with rich people who were maybe doing something evil, how boring it all was (the number one sin when it came to Steve Rogers, if you listened close enough), and how at one point he’d dared Clint to attempt a trick shot off a fire alarm with a rubber band and a tartlet, but they’d gotten caught and yelled at about it.

“How was the food?” I asked, even as I shut the lid on my empty container.

“It was fine,” he said and flashed a smile at me. “Nothing like here.”

I snorted. “Yeah, I bet socialites have nothing on my store-brand crackers and cheese squares.”

“Well, they certainly don’t have anything on the company,” he said and pulled me in with one arm for a brief hug. Then he stuck the trash from dinner in the plastic delivery bag and picked up the tray. “I’ll be right back,” he promised and left.

I should have felt bad for making him clean up, but in actuality I felt better, even if truly tired for real now, and I dusted and picked up any stray crumbs before he returned. I lifted the blanket for him to get in, and finally, finally, I was able to attach myself to him like a strong current was threatening to wash me away.

“I’m glad you came home safe,” I said. However, one thing poked at the back of my brain still. A question I was too afraid to ask because of the potential for embarrassment. And yet, it would not leave, so I sighed, hid my face in the space between him and the pillow, and asked, “Did I leave the door unlocked again?”

He froze. “…No.”

I perked up, because my embarrassment potential was officially gone. “Did you break in?” I didn’t know whether I should laugh or be mad. I was…definitely leaning more towards the first, in all honesty.

He turned pink. Deep pink. “Natasha’s been teaching me a few tricks,” he mumbled. “I tried it on my place first. I swear I didn’t break anything.” He shrugged one shoulder and added, with a little half-smile, “Well…not literally, in any case.”

I stared at him a little longer, still torn between offense and hilarity. Then I reached back, snagged my phone, and opened up my texts with Natasha.

Me: YOU ARE A BAD INFLUENCE

I expected the next message to ask me for clarification, if only because ‘which thing’ would be very Natasha. However, clairvoyancy was also, somehow, very Natasha.

Natasha: I’m putting ‘corrupting Captain America’ onto my résumé Natasha: Not because I can sell it, but because I find it funny

Well. She had a point. And I, actually, had a way to circumvent that issue.

Me: Well from now on he can only use that party trick on people who aren’t me Natasha: Spoilsport

I sent back a bunch of kissy-face emojis and hopped out of bed before Steve could ask about our conversation. He did protest for a moment but I went to my key dish, grabbed the spare, and zoomed right back into bed.

“Here,” I said and gave him the key, quashing down the butterflies in my stomach. “I probably should have given you this a while ago. Also don’t lose it because if I lose mine I’ll need it back.”

“You make this so romantic,” he chuckled, but he gripped the key firmly in his hand.

I rolled my eyes, but I leaned over him, supporting myself partially with a hand on his chest, and kissed him gently; then I brushed my nose across his, once, and then again for good measure. “You’re always welcome here,” I said. I watched him turn soft and asked, “How was that?”

“Pretty damn good,” he said, set the key aside, and flicked off the last remaining light before he pulled me in closer. I snuggled in to rest my head against his chest, (maybe my actual favorite pillow), and let out a sigh as my body relaxed without me even having to try.

“Maybe winter isn’t as stupid as I thought,” I admitted as the dark settled around us.

“Only a little stupid?” Steve said.

“Only a little stupid,” I agreed, and fell asleep where the cold no longer touched me.

~

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