#if this gets me blocked. good. less people i have to block myself

[thekindlygrammarfairy]

The only thing that seems like it'd work is fixing public education. I remember when I was maybe 12, my class was taken into the library and taught basic internet searching skills, how to spot unreliable websites, and so on. None of it was new to me, but having it presented in an official capacity made me think about it more often and harder from then on.

I had assignments that revolved around research, which taught me a bunch of stuff about how to find good information.

Hell, even the ability to type at a reasonable pace is something I picked up from school.

So, what schools are like these days is going to be speculation, I don't know what's up, and it's going to vary wildly from place to place. But here's my best guess:

Schools, at least in the US, have been slowly bleeding talent, money, and respect since the start of the pandemic. Essentially, kids are left to self-educate. I like teaching myself stuff via online tutorials and stuff, but that only works because I have the necessary self-discipline and underlying skills. It seems like in most schools, everyone is in survival mode, and a lot of stuf that would have been taught because it's "The Right Thing To Do" is hitting the cutting room floor. Nevada's elections are having an issue with young people not being able to sign their names, for example, because we cut cursive teaching. I don't think of cursive as particularly useful, but some things are written in it - and being able to sign your name is of obvious importance.

Services like Instagram and Tiktok are appealing because of their ease of use, and the network effect, and their ability to direct you into a hyperspecific niche. But the time and energy spent in these apps and services (having tried both, they can be incredibly overwhelming) is not spent socializing in a real, tangible community. On Tiktok specifically, it seems like it's actively harder to do something as basic as learn a creator's name. For example, Amaury Guichon's name is on every one of his tiktoks, but everyone calls him Chocolate Guy. This is not true of any other creator I'm aware of. The experiences are smaller and less lasting than any other media, but are the most readily accessible.

The "I don't want to pay money for internet anything" culture is strong, with my generation and younger. Even if quality stuff is out there, we don't want it, because it's behind a 99 cent paywall. Part of this is the soft age-wall for getting a credit card, but part of this is just stubbornness. New York Times and Washington Post, both respected and reasonably-truthful newspapers, are paywalled, but Conservative """Newspaper""" du jour are free. When I see a paywall on a newspaper, my first instinct is to get around it, not pay up. A few outlets, like the Guardian, have started working with, rather than against, this behavior, but they're in the minority. The impact of this attitude on creators on platforms like YouTube and Twitch is a whole other discussion, there's some good and some bad. But "old media" (books, movies, TV, etc.) is suffering - and people who should be experiencing that stuff are suffering too.

Third spaces for young people basically don't exist. Why exactly this is is a long conversation, but the result is that everyone's on their dang phones, even if they'd get along really well with someone who lives half a block away.

Because of all of the above, patience is not a virtue most of us have. On the internet, anything you don't like can be out of your face in seconds, and there's always an infinite void of content to gorge yourself on. In meatspace, not so much. I don't think the "zoomer attention span" is real, I think it's more along the lines of Gen Z have not been taught to tolerate mild discomfort very well. The effects of this on social organizing patterns is... bad.

The result of all of this is that young people (and I'm part of this) don't have solid social ground to stand on. Everything is online platforms and services that are fickle, fragile, and can't be negotiated with. Finding friends is difficult, and everyone's social skills are atrophied to some extent.

How do we fix this? Fund schools, make spaces for young people to hang out in, and find tunnels out of doomscrolls. I've seen a promising trend in YouTube shorts of people linking longer related videos to pull people out of that infinite scroll.

And tumblr is a good example of this. We have a mix of shallow and deep content, and a culture that's not flexible, malleable, and disposable in the same way that TikTok's is.

I am concerned for gen z. Like I don't think they're doing okay. I think algorithms and a systematic denial of easy access to facts because of Internet enshittification has made them unbelievably miserable with very little sense of how warped their online experience is. Idk how to fix it.

[eocon-fr]

In the head of Esteban Ocon, F1 driver : « At 130 km/h, I have the impression to be able of walking next to the car »

ᯓ Translation of the article “Dans la tête d’Esteban Ocon, pilote de F 1 : « A 130 km/h, j’ai l’impression de pouvoir marcher à côté de la voiture »„ by Éric Michel and Christophe Lacaze-Eslous for Le Parisien. The article is protected by a paywall.

Preparation of the car

"I am completely involved in its development. For me, improving the car is an obsession. Sometimes, I wake up at night with an idea, I write it down and send it straight to the engineers, in case it could help. I tell myself that they must have already thought of it, but in 20 to 30% of the ideas, this was not the case. So, it helps"

The week before the race

"I disconnect less and less. You have to stay 100% involved in the thing. I go to England one or two days a week (to Enstone in the Alpine factory) to see the engineers. Sometimes we leave directly from there to go to the Grands Prix. Otherwise, I work on my personal training. I do recovery, mass gain, cardio, and also visual detection. Even outside the race, these are long days that last from 9:30 a.m. to 6-7 p.m. But I'm happy about it, when I left the circuit, in 2018 and 2019 (he was a test driver for Mercedes), I worked in the cave and I no longer had access to F1. I missed it."

On the starting grid

“Before the lights turn green, I don’t necessarily feel a thrill. It’s more in my mind, a question of adrenaline. It’s always there, even after all this time, every time. After all the preparation before the race and the concentration it requires afterwards, the start is a bit of a lull. I look to the right: Ah, Max Verstappen! I look to the left behind my mirror: Hou là, Fernando Alonso! In front: Waouh, Lewis Hamilton! There are some great guys around me.”

His driver friends

“I realize how lucky I am to be one of the 20 F1 drivers in the world. That’s why I always have a smile on my face. We all respect each other. We’ve all known each other since we were very young. I drove with Pierre (Gasly), Charles (Leclerc), Max (Verstappen), Lando (Norris) when I was young… We have a lot in common, pretty much the same lives. I always said to my childhood friends: If one day you see me change and become like certain athletes — I won’t name any names — I’d like to take one, so that it wakes me up and puts my brain back in place.”

The madness of the start

“Getting a good start means getting out well. It’s the crucial moment, that’s when the most things happen. Sometimes I have a bad feeling. I feel like a guy is going to hit me from behind. You can’t be sure that everything is going to go well, never. It’s so grouped, someone can block the wheels. On the other hand, once it has happened and it has gone well, after that it’s smooth sailing.”

Peaks at over 300 km/h

“People talk a lot about the very high speed (300 km/h) and the tunnel vision effect, in other words the loss of peripheral vision. This is not true at all. In Mexico, for example, we reach speeds of 370 km/h. Despite this astonishing speed, we can still see people on the left, on the right, in the stands. Even when I started, I don’t remember this effect. When I was 6 or 7 years old, while driving on the track, at 90 km/h in a kart, I saw a very beautiful flower on each lap. One day, I stopped. Hop! I picked it and then brought it back to my mother!”

Maximum concentration

“During the race, you don’t have time to think about anything else: neither your worries nor your joys outside of F1, your loved ones, your family. Nothing! You have to be 100% focused. If you start to scatter your mind, it’s because you’re starting to see things blurry. That means you no longer have control over your heart rate and as a result, you lose energy. At that point, there’s a big problem and you start to lose concentration, and losing concentration means danger.”

Always measure the danger

"I'm not saying that fear isn't present. Above all, we must never forget that F1 is a risky sport. But if you're too afraid in F1, it's better to stop, it means that you don't know your subject inside out. You're no longer able to control it. I've already had situations where I was at fault and it hurts.

However, distrust always helps me think before taking action. I ask myself: Is it worth trying this or that maneuver? What's to be gained compared to the danger it represents? When a car is in front of me and I can overtake it, I wonder if it's worth it. I constantly ask myself: Isn't there a wall next to it?"

On the road, like the average Joe

"The road you drive on every day and an F1 circuit have nothing in common. On a circuit, we have marshals, guys at every bend who watch out for, for example, an animal crossing. If one of us has left oil on the lap before, there is an immediate yellow flag. On the road, there is no one to warn us of danger.

Even if it goes slower, you have to be very careful. I am of course. I respect the traffic laws by having the chance to drive cars that are very nice with great performance. I just have to get used to it again. At 130 km/h on the freeway, I feel like I can open the door, get out, and walk alongside."

World champion one day

"That's of course my goal. It's not that it's in my head, it's an obsession. Ever since I was little, I've wanted to go to F1. Now that I'm here, I want to win. I've always been a very bad loser. There's no way I'm leaving F1 with regrets. I'm putting all the chances on my side and all the cards are in my hands."

A life as a driver

“Between races, I have time to watch movies and listen to music while traveling. I’m a big Marvel fan. But I don’t really have a normal life, I know that. I dedicate all my time to what I do, about three hundred days a year. It’s hard for people, my girlfriend, my family, we don’t see each other often. I still have a home, but I don’t spend much time there.

I miss things, friends’ birthdays, dinners with my grandparents, but it’s a lifestyle choice. I worked hard to get here. I can’t complain about having a different life. It’s great that I can live my passion, travel and see different countries, meet passionate people.”

[teddyonaboat]

other queer people who call a queer actor of a character they happen to hate (because he and/or his fans are bad in their eyes) a sexual harasser and homophobic because of their own bad faith interpretations of that actor should be ashamed of themselves

[bobasnonbeliever]

only posting this here because i dont think anyone will see it. i need to get this out

im so fucking tired of my life. im tired of caring, like, in general. as stupid as it sounds, i was watching kitchen nightmares, and gordon said something about a chef or an owner, i dont remember exactly, he said; "losing hope is a scary thing to do, when theres just no more light at the end of the tunnel, it takes you down dark paths." or something like that. and ive been suicidal/depressed since i was 9, but i thought to myself "im not hopeless, am i?". the more i thought about it, the worse i felt because, god no, im not hopeless. im helpless, or maybe i wallow too much in my own self pity. i dont know the difference. every goddamn day feels like another waking nightmare, im sick of living with my mom, im sick of her not letting me get a job. i dont want my name on the damn electric bill because shes over $1,000 in debt to the power company anymore. shes already ruining my credit, and i dont even have a damn job! not to mention her fucking kid, her 5yo fucking kid, im taking care of. the product of the man who beat me over and over again, threatened to kill me, and then he took a greyhound bus out of our lives. why didnt she protect me? he never once hit her, or anyone else, why didnt mom help me? i was only 13 when he first pulled me by my hair and slammed me into the stairs because i let moms ice cream tub melt on the kitchen table for half an hour. it took him till my brother was 3 to leave. she valued him over me, and even now. im always taking care of my brother, even when he screams at me, cusses at me, throws things at me, spits on me, hits me, kicks me, claws me, bites me, and more. you get the point. she never even tells him to stop, she doesnt have to scream, or hurt him, or anything. just please, please tell them to stop hurting me. i still take care of him. i take care of him when she takes 20 fucking benadryl and passes out for the full time shes at home between shifts. i sacrificed my education to "help her" take care of him. and she gets mad at me when i parent him, when i tell him off, or even more mad when i have to cry and beg him to stop hurting me. she says "youre 22 years old, get a grip" when im covered in bruises from the 5 year old "hes five!" she will scream when i tell her he hurts me. "he is five, hes supposed to listen to you" i said once, and she just stared at me. im always fucking things up, she never fails to let me know, when she looks at me like that i know its my fault. i cant even begin on my relationship, i shouldnt, he might see this. i just want to give up, im so tired of caring, i want to let it all go. my dog died, i ruined him too, i couldnt take him to the vet i couldnt help him. hes gone because i failed. my baby, im not saying that in the cringy melinial way, he saved me from suicide. so many times, it was "hell be so confused why im gone..", "hes gonna miss me", "whos gonna take care of him?" but now hes gone and im still here. my baby, is gone and im so selfishly still here. why wouldnt she let me get a job? i couldve taken him, i couldve at least got him put down so he didnt have to suffer in his favourite spot on my bed till his kidneys put him down for us. if i didnt know, my boyfriend would kill himself too when he comes home from classes tomorrow, and i was dead, i would take the entire 160 count bottle of benadryl i stole from moms room. i want to see my baby, he never ever missed on helping me, i owe him my life and couldnt even give him that when he passed. but not for lack of trying.

but even so, i dont feel hopeless. maybe only yearning, but it feels enough like hope. when i use my right hand to stroke my left cheek and neck, it almost feels like someone else. i get a glimmer of a thought, "one day, i wont have to beg to be taken care of. someone will do it because they want to.", but still, it hurts worse. i dont know how i can possibly derive so much gut wrenching pain from that little bit of hope, but i do. and still, i cant help myself, i cant blame anyone else. i can only hope someone will come save me. if i could handle this all on my own, i wouldnt be here typing this.

i want to decompose.

writing this after that monster of a textblock in the tags, but if you were wondering. im not exaggerating about the mess, and i wouldnt normally judge. because i have had worse bedrooms, mental illness is a bitch. but its in the common area, and she absolutely does make the 5yo live in it. she moved out to the living room after their room was too trashed for her to even walk in, so she toated her 50" fucking tv right out there and hasnt moved, accept to go to work, since. everyone pray or cross your fingers or send me some good energy to hope she gets sliced into a million pieces at work instead of accidentally oding on bennies so i can raise my brother with her life insurance money.

[zoppzoop]

GAAHAHHHHH

[ban-joey]

sending laser beams to my professor with my mind. kenneth you said midterm grades would b up by this afternoon. it is officially TONIGHT and guess what? kenneth i would love to not be clenching my teeth in my sleep tonight. kenneth i will be sending you a bill in the mail. yes i know its probably a TAs responsibility but i blame you personally. i hate school

[butchlifeguard]

i dont wanna decide on a career unfortunately everyone wants me to soso bad

[teamfortresstwo]

So what I thought was art block might’ve just been dizziness from not having eaten all day on accident. Uhhhh whoops.

[fingertipsmp3]

Does anyone else just like… not give a fuck if they’re chopping vegetables evenly

[pissfizz]

I’m started to get really pissed off that I’m bad at this game

[nonokoko13]

Why can't people like a celebrity without imagine them as queer? Can't people like Taylor music without go saying she's lesbian/queer when she hasn't said anything about that. Pretty sure if she was attracted to women she would have already said it 🫠

Even in the hypothetical scenario where she was queer indeed pressuring somebody to come out or out them yourself is selfish, stupid, dangerous, toxic and overall fucked up (-᷅_-᷄)

We have so many queer pop icons out of the closet but you need to headcanon your favourite ally/het as lgbt for...comfort reasons? Just because she's your fav? Because you are queer? Dude she's not a fictional character can you not spread false information or discuss real people orientations and just enjoy their content 💀

all goofing aside I genuinely don't understand the urge to reimagine Taylor Allison Swift as a secretly queer icon when the pop music scene(TM) is like. literally overflowing with women who actually like women. Gaga and Kesha and Miley and Halsey are right there. Rina Sawayama and Hayley Kiyoko and Rebecca Black and Kehlani and Victoria Monét and Miya Folick if you're willing to get slightly less top 100. Janelle and Demi for them nonbinary takes on liking girls. like what are we doing here. like I'm not even saying you can't enjoy Taylor but why would you hang all your little gay hopes on her.

[dorothylarouge]

US Presidents as Dril Tweets

George Washington: another day volunteering at the betsy ross museum. everyone keeps asking me if they can fuck the flag. buddy, they wont even let me fuck it

John Adams: "ah boo hoo hoo i want to post Foul comments to content leaders" Fat Chance, Dimwit. I will annihilate you under bulwark of the Law and God.

Thomas Jefferson: Q: If your post was proven by a counsil of wise men to be racist, or bullshit, would you bar it from the record? A: I do not delete my posts

James Madison: (sniffing a crumpled up one dollar bill i found on the floor of a dog kennel) ah.. thats greenbacks baby

James Monroe: for decades i have traversed the unforgiving mountains and rivers of south america, hoping to catch a glimpse of the fabled "ass downloader"

John Quincy Adams: "This Whole Thing Smacks Of Gender," i holler as i overturn my uncle's barbeque grill and turn the 4th of July into the 4th of Shit

Andrew Jackson: handing Faves over to my enemies is FRAUD !! base, contemptible FRAUD!

Martin Van Buren: Food $200

Data $150

Rent $800

Candles $3,600

Utility $150

someone who is good at the economy please help me budget this. my family is dying

William Henry Harrison: (spends all of 7 seconds skimming some blog posts) yep. just as i knew all along. having pnuamonia is good

John Tyler: fuck "jokes". everything i tweet is real. raw insight without the horse shit. no, i will NOT follow trolls. twitter dot com. i live for this

James K. Polk: thhere is no such thing as charisma, and art is fake. the only metrics by which we must determine the worth of a man are Strength and Wisdom

Zachary Taylor: the doctor reveals my blood pressure is 420 over 69. i hoot & holler outta the building while a bunch of losers tell me that im dying

Millard Fillmore: trying to heal..... please donate to my go fund me... $10 will make me less racist... $100 will make me extremely less racist...thank you...

Franklin Pierce: blocked. blocked. blocked. youre all blocked. none of you are free of sin

James Buchanan: #NationalGirlfriendDay please cherish your gal's.. in honor of us, the single Boys who must sacrifice all companionship to #CarryTheBrand...

Abraham Lincoln: unloading an entire belt of ammo at me with a minigun or some such device will now get you "Blocked"

Andrew Johnson: who the fuck is scraeming "LOG OFF" at my house. show yourself, coward. i will never log off

Ulysses S. Grant: i regret being tasked the emotional burden of maintaining the final bastion of morality and Nice manners in this endless ocean of human SHIT

Rutherford B. Hayes: using the toilet when i hear Our national anthem start to play. i do what i must. i stand tall in complete agony; as shit runs down my leg,

James A. Garfield: too much truth in such little time. feeling the heat cominh down to silence me... signing off........ for now

Chester A. Arthur: i WILL wise the fuck up. i WILL super charge my content for 2017. i WILL get blue check mark

Grover Cleveland: the way i see it, people who come on here and submit content that is not up to par, could possibly be considered the "Villains" of this site

Benjamin Harrison: i help every body, im not racist, i keep myself nice, and when i ask for a single re-tweet in return i am told to fuck off, fuck myself, etc

William McKinley: boy oh boy do i love purchasing large amounnts of Fool's Gold. wait a minute... fools gold fucking sucks. this stuff is no good..!! Fuck !!!

Theodore Roosevelt: IF THE ZOO BANS ME FOR HOLLERING AT THE ANIMALS I WILL FACE GOD AND WALK BACKWARDS INTO HELL

William H. Taft: ah.. the perfect Souffle! cant wait to dig in to t(*EVERY PIPE IN MY HOUSE EXPLODES AT THE SAME TIME, COVERING ME IN SHIT AND BOILING WATER*

Woodrow Wilson: the conflicted supersoldier stares over the horizon as he smokes a cigarette. "war is the most fucked up thing ever." he takes a sip of beer

Warren G. Harding: somebody please Bribe me

Calvin Coolidge: aggressively joyless oaf hhere. painfully obnoxious respect demander checkign in. extremely dim witted frowning man looking for pals

Herbert Hoover: it is really quite astonishing that I have yet to win The Lottery, given how good I am at selecting six numbers and saying them out loud

Franklin D. Roosevelt: ive never heard of this “europe��� but it sounds like a big bunch of shit to me

Harry Truman: everybody wants to be the guy to write the tweet that solves racism once and for all because it would look good as hell on a resume

Dwight D. Eisenhower: my "F*&k It!! Let's Go Golfin" t-shirt maintains a tenacious stranglehold on my life. after 1,125 days of Golf my body is twisted, deformed

John F. Kennedy: when you do sutuff like... shoot my jaw clean off of my face with a sniper rifle, it mostly reflects poorly on your self

Lyndon B. Johnson: incredibly handsome , charismatic famous boy credited with ending income inequality after saying that slumlords should be called "dumblords"

Richard Nixon: i attribute the complete failure of my brand to the actions of detractors, oor my “trolls”, as it were, as well as my own constant fuckups

Gerald Ford: shutting computer down until the shitty moods & attitudes can fuck off., if you need me ill be on my other computer, sititng 60° to my right

Jimmy Carter: i warnned you all that bad things would happen if you kept letting your wives wear jeans. AND NOW LOOK! the damn gas prices are up again

Ronald Reagan: spend a lot of time thinking about how sometimes even war criminals can be heroes sometimes... Dont like it? Click the unfollow buttobn

George H.W. Bush: just thought off an idea i believe to be bad ass. lets find the address of the leader of isis, and mail him/ her pieces of our SHIT

Bill Clinton: were at the point now, that when i offer to impregnate my girl followers, people assume my motives are sexual. disgusting, grow the fuck up,

George W. Bush: friday night gathering up together a big pile of things i like to respect (flags, crucifixes ,etc) and just roll around in it ,give kisses,

Barack Obama: my IQ has increased 10 points ever since i stopped tollerating people mucking about, on the time line

Donald Trump: THERAPIST: your problem is, that youre perfect, and everyone is jealous of your good posts, and that makes you rightfully upset.

ME: I agree

Joe Biden: I will shut the fuck up , IF , it will restore the Harmony. I will get on my knees like a dog and make that sacrifice, for the sake of Calm

[yourmidnightlover]

forever?

pairing: mob!bucky x reader

summary: after being forced into a marriage you didn’t want, you become very cautious of your new husband out of fear of what he’s capable of when one of his employees makes a move at a dinner meeting.

warnings: anxious reader, threat of domestic violence (reader is just worried abt it), groping, please let me know if i missed something or need to add anything!

a/n: reader is very timid in this. i know a lot of people like a reader who doesn’t take shit and stands up for herself, but i often find myself in situations where i just shut down and don’t know how to respond… so this is kinda inspired by that feeling

pt 2 -> control

two months out of forever.

two months of what seemed like wedded bliss from the outside.

in reality, that “bliss” included sleeping in separate rooms, never even seeing each other unless necessary to make appearances for either of your parents. 

the ones who arranged for this to happen in the first place. 

you were just glad you were able to have your time for yourself. you thought you would use the time to continue writing for your book, but you’ve hit a serious case of writers block. so lovely. 

on the bright side, he wasn’t as controlling as your few friends had made it seem he would be. 

they had painted this picture of a monster in your head. a man who would loom over your presence during every waking second. a man who was controlling and wouldn’t let you have a personal life or secrets.

so far, he’s been the opposite. 

for some reason, that still leaves you unsteady. 

because they also painted him in a very violent, angry, red light. 

but maybe he had a mistress. if that were the case, he truly didn’t respect you or your family. it didn’t seem like bucky to do that, though. he wouldn’t ruin a business deal that benefitted him so much. 

the reason you married him was because your father’s finance business was going under, drowned in debts while the only options were to sell to the barnes’ or the rumlow’s. the barnes’ seemed the lesser of two evils.

the only way to smoothly transition your father’s business to be under the barnes’ control without raising any question of your father’s capability was to marry. if any questions were asked about why your father sold his company, the not so good side of the finance industry would trample after your entire family. the barnes’ would get a new company and their many clients, while your family wouldn’t become entirely blacklisted by the entire country, would be putting your family under the barnes’ protection, and there would be less questions asked as to why the company had been merged.

you had a few months of “leaking” images of you and bucky together into the tabloids to prepare the public for the news of such a big marriage. some were photos of you and bucky holding hands while walking. a couple of you at a restaurant smiling. a few staged kissing photos… those may or may not have been your favorite.

those times spent with him, in all honesty, weren’t bad at all. going for walks together at sunset, dinner dates, feeling his lips against yours…

you had gotten to know more about his childhood that the tabloids didn’t feel was important to cover. his favorite subject in school and how he actually lost his arm so many years ago. you learned each others’ fears and worries in life. your favorite thing to learn about him, however, was what he truly wanted in life. 

peace.

a couple weeks after the wedding, a few photos of the reception were once again “leaked” in order to sell the “too in love to wait” bit that everyone had started assuming upon seeing the first few photos of you and bucky together. 

but all of your history with him flew to the back of your mind as bucky knocked on your office door. 

“come in,” you replied hesitantly, not sure what he wanted from you for the first time since your wedding. he stepped through the threshold and stood at the doorframe. 

“there’s a work meeting tomorrow,” his hand remained on the doorknob, so stiff you’d think he might rip it off the precious white wood in seconds. “the men are meeting at the house. i wanted to let you know. the men in this business, they expect marriages to be of the… traditional values.”

you nodded with understanding, turning to face him with a forced grin. “so i should play the part of the doting housewife, huh?” no smile in return, so you bit back your humor in turn for matching his serious tone. “what food should i prepare, then? and uh, how many guests will we be expecting?”

“whatever’s easiest for you,” he shrugged lightly. “there will be 9 of us there.” with one final look in your direction, he left the office and didn’t return to say goodnight. 

-

the next morning you got to work setting the house up for the 6pm meeting your loving husband was hosting. 

you had decided to set up a buffet-style table outside of the main dining room where the meeting would take place. for the menu, you settled on simple grilled chicken with quite a few side options. roast potatoes, asparagus, sauteed carrots, green beans, and rolls. 

you were putting the rolls in the oven when bucky got home, seemingly entranced by the smell of all the food, heading straight to the kitchen.

“it smells amazing in here,” bucky called from the archway of the kitchen. you jumped slightly from the surprise, but swallowed down the shock and another weak smile. 

“thanks,” you nodded to the edge of the island where a large chalkboard sat, your handwriting neatly displayed on the board that listed all the food to be had. “the menu. i figured a variety would be nice, and who doesn’t like chicken, right?”

“vegetarians,” if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was telling a joke. but you knew better than that. “the men are coming in a little less than an hour. do you maybe want to change before they get here?”

you looked down at what you were wearing, a pair of blue jeans and a loose t-shirt clearly not worthy of someone who had married a barnes man. “right, of course. i’m sorry,” you finished setting the timer on the oven and ran upstairs to get yourself put together before bucky saw the tears trying to seep past your waterline. 

you settled on a black cocktail dress you had worn to one of your dad’s company events before the downfall… quickly swiping some makeup on to cover the exhaustion in your eyes and pulling your hair up to a more respectable updo rather than your typical messy bun. 

luckily you had become an expert at quickly getting ready from your time in university, as you were back in time to pull the rolls from the oven, but not before pulling on your apron. you’d be dammed if you got this stunning dress dirty right before this prestigious meeting. 

t-5 minutes before the meeting was supposed to begin and you could already hear lots of rustling from the formal dining room. you knocked on the closed doors before bucky opened the door for you. 

the men went silent as their gaze rested on you in the doorway. 

“the foods ready. buffet style?” your eyes didn’t leave bucky’s pretty blues, too scared to do anything wrong in front of his men. 

“that’s perfect, my love,” his hands gravitated to your waist before pulling your body taut against his, one hand moving a stray hair behind your ear before leaning in to whisper. “you look ravishing…”

as he pulled back, you were sure your blush was evident across your cheeks. you tried to hide it behind a smile, shrugging with a shy ‘thanks’ leaving your lips. 

“what do you say to my stunning wife, boys?” his hand squeezed your waist once more before turning to the other men, ‘thank you’s being echoed throughout the room as they stood and made their way to the kitchen to make their plates. 

in a matter of minutes, all the food was gone. you figured it was best they liked the food, even if you didn’t get to try any of it yourself like you had planned. 

you got started on cleaning everything up with earbuds in your ears, starting with the dishes already in the sink from when you were cooking. then, you were sure to place the dishes that the food was in inside the sink for you to clean before starting on wiping the counters, then sweeping, then mopping, and then back to the dishes. 

you didn’t realize that bucky had called for a break in the meeting, however. you were in for quite the rude awakening when you felt a pair of hands on your waist, but not the ones you were semi-familiar with. 

you turned around with a gasp, shock evident on your face as you tried to piece together whoever this man was. blond hair, blue eyes… definitely not steve though. you knew steve well and had seen him often. 

you pulled your earbuds from your ears in attempt to better understand what was going on. his hands were still gripping your sides, but you couldn’t necessarily escape his touch. you were backed against the sink. even if you could fight him, you’d likely lose to his strong grip. 

“is the meeting-is it over already?” your voice was so much more cowardly than you’d ever expected yourself to be. 

“no, no,” he shook his head. “just a little break, some of the guys were getting antsy.” you leaned back further, trying to create some semblance of space between you. “i figured i’d say a special thank you, on behalf of all of us guys in there.” he let one hand cup the side of your face and neck, his other hand trailing down from your waist, firmly grasping your ass with a sqeeze before you jumped at the invasion.

“i don’t-i’ve got it…”

“john,” he smiled grossly, as if he could convince you to go to bed with him.

“no need for a thanks,” you tried to remind him. “i did this for bucky. for my husband.” your eyebrows rose, trying to emphasize that his boss was also your husband. 

“i’m sure he won’t mind you getting a little bit of extra special attention, don’t you?”

then, a growling voice cut through the fear running through your veins. 

“i think he might mind.”

you turned to face bucky with wide eyes before facing john, wishing the tears welling in your eyes would just go away. 

his hands slowly retracted, stepping back with a chuckle.

“sorry, sir,” he smiled before turning to face your husband. “she was just telling me how she wanted some extra attention, weren’t you, toots?” he tilted his head expectantly.

your mouth opened, nothing leaving in spite of your brain screaming at you. what would bucky do? would he take his side? would he believe you? would he hurt you? 

you’ve embarrassed him now… humiliated him in his own home. surely he’ll take action against you for this. 

your mind replayed stories your old friends had told you about him. how he would lash out at men that betrayed him. how he never took shit from anyone who showed him any disrespect. how he was the kind of man to shoot first and ask quesitons later.

and now, in a way, you’ve both betrayed and disrespected him. or at least, that’s what he’ll think. 

you didn’t even realize tears were flowing down your face until your sobs were interrupted. 

“enough!” you finally looked at bucky before his eyes softened for a second before walking closer to you. “go to the room.” he ordered sternly. 

“but the dish-”

“i’ll take care of it,” he interrupted gravely, “go. to. the. room.” 

“yes, sir,” you nodded and swiftly left the room entirely, collapsing against the door once you had shut it, sobs wracking your body. you held your knees against your chest before trying to regulate your breathing.

he won’t hurt you.

he has to protect his image.

you’ve embarrassed him.

you’re his wife.

you’re his business deal.

you’ve humiliated him.

he’ll hurt you.

you didn’t know how long it had been since the incident. 

your sobs had subsided. you had, at some point, moved to your bed. you were still rocking your body back and forth, trying to self sooth. 

and then there was a knock at the door. 

your body instinctively jumped at the sudden noise, although it wasn’t harsh in any manner, at least not one that you were expecting. 

he twisted the knob, slowly opening the door with slow movements. 

“i-i’m so sorry,” you began apologizing as soon as he stepped through the threshold into your room. “i swear-i swear i didn’t tell him that. i didn’t even realize he was there, i promise. i wouldn’t lie to you. i’m so sorry, i’m so sorry. please believe me.” your body was still rocking and you didn’t even notice he was as close to you as he was until you saw his hand moving by your head.

automatically, you assumed the absolute worst, your head ducking into your body like a fucking turtle, the meekest squeal leaving your lips mixed with a sob. your arms went over your head protectively, as if a bomb were about to go off.

“sweetheart,” his voice sounded so broken, so torn, so unexpectedly soft. 

you finally looked at him for the first time since he came in your room. his flesh hand was holding his metal one as if it were something that could kill. in ways, it was. 

“you-there’s no need to…” after looking at him for a second longer, you noticed that his eyes had tears that almost mirrored your own. “i would never, ever lay a hand on you. i’m so sorry for scaring you. i can’t…” he sighed. “i can’t believe i made you believe i’d ever hurt you.”

“i’m sorry,” you pleaded with him once again. 

“you have nothing to apologize for,” he hesitated to reach for your hands before settling on simply grabbing a spare pillow. “i came up here to apologize. for my tone earlier… i know john. he never knows his boundaries. i should’ve… you never should’ve been put in that situation. that’s my fault. that’s on me. and i will spend the rest of forever to make it up to you.” 

“you don’t have to-”

“no, my love,” he shook his head. “can i-can i hold your hands? please?” you, without hesitation, grabbed his hands yourself. “i need to make it up to you. you’re mine. you’re my wife. it’s my job to protect you, to keep you safe. and to have someone ruin that? to touch what’s mine in my own home? i’m so sorry.” he brought your hands to his lips, pressing at least ten kisses to each hand. he was so gentle and careful it was a good thing you knew better than to think it actually meant anything.

you were surprised, to say the least, at how tender he was being with you. 

how could you have ever thought he would hurt you? that he would raise his hand and swing? that he would cause you harm? he was here declaring that he would make up this incident for the rest of eternity when it wasn’t even his doing… 

“will you stay with me tonight?” his eyes lit up at the request.

“are you sure you want that?” he became a touch more reserved. “i don’t know if it’s a good idea since you were worried i would…” his voice trailed off.

“i’m sure,” you nodded before scooting over in the bed. 

sure, your marriage was arranged and didn’t stem from true love. you may not have talked outside of when absolutely necessary. you might have even been terrified of him at one point. 

but now, the thought of forever with bucky barnes didn’t seem half bad. 

[ranboolivesaysstuff]

IMPORTANT POST PLEASE READ

Im gonna be honest and open for a sec, and please do not take this as "oh I HATE my community or I dont like the people who watch me" but honestly as of late (and I did highlight this during the mcc bit), ive felt like I havent been able to really be in my own community simply because of the constant way that "discourse" is handled. Making vague posts and not really tackling issues in a good way, all that is going to do is just show people a big "THIS COMMUNITY BAD" sign and not actually help anything within the community, all its going to do is have the good and potentially good people leave or not join in the first place. The way that discourse is treated that ive seen has been the main reason why I have started to try to distance myself, which has been the most heartbreaking thing I have had to do. I want problems to be solved in a mature, civil way, with either a dm or a reply, not an entire vague thing that only says "bad things are happening" and doesnt elaborate on anything or barely elaboratesa and only gives people on both the inside and outside a bad sign of what the community is. Making posts whenever something happens being like "here we go again" is only going to highlight the wrong things, and actually DOESNT help the issue at all! The problems should be discussed directly with the people who are doing said problems FIRST! Bring attention to behaviors and things that arent good DIRECTLY! And also, YOU DO NOT HAVE TO!!! It is not your duty as a viewer or fan of me to be involved in any of this if you do not want to! Just enjoy the content and make silly posts! As someone who constantly tried to fix and get into every problem as it was happening, it took a huge toll on my mental health, and I want you guys to just be able to enjoy the content without having to worry about what you say about it! Be constructive! Dont make posts again just being like "wow this community is so bad" because that doesnt solve literally anything! If you have enough passion to make the posts saying "wow this community is bad" then only post about that, you are only spreading that negative message, and not uplifting anything of actual value! And if the person you are trying to help is not willing or not listening, BLOCK! MUTE! DONT BRING MORE ATTENTION TO THE PERSON IF THEY ARE NOT BEING A GOOD PART OF THE COMMUNITY!!!! I know I say that if I see problems I will call them out, but I shouldnt have to babysit every single time a thing happens within the community as that just isnt a healthy way for a creator or a community to be handled. This does not mean that I do not care about the issues or dont want them fixed, rather it shouldnt take me having to make some grand statement every single time something happens it should take only your own self reflection and self awareness. And to add onto this, make sure that every once in a while no matter who you are you think and have that self reflection, you should be open to being willing to learn and grow as a person! And again, I do NOT want anyone taking this as "Wow this community is terrible" but rather that we just have things that need to be fixed and changed and THAT IS OKAY! I do not hate the community, I care so much about it that I want it to be a silly place for my content again! I want it to be the reason why people get into what I do because of it again! And I want to be able to just have fun and relax without having to worry about how every single thing that I may say could have someone stirring things up that simply dont help or solve anything! Take care of yourselves. And this isnt coming from a place of "I hate the community as a whole" but rather again I want to be able to exist and make content that we can all enjoy without having to worry about walking on eggshells around me or around eachother! At the end of the day im just a fella that wants to make silly videos for you all, and you are people who enjoy said videos. Nothing more. Nothing less.

[byoldervine]

Why You Should ‘Make Yourself’ Write (And How To Do It)

Most people who write for a hobby - especially the neurodivergent crowd - will write whenever they’re inspired, and many will be able to get an insane amount of writing done in one go, but then there’s a good while of writer’s block and low motivation/inspiration in between those bursts of creativity. You can see forcing yourself to write as something irrelevant to you; it’s just a hobby, so why burn yourself out forcing yourself to do it until it’s no longer fun?

The reason people say this, even for hobbyists, is so that you have some level of consistent progress; relying on random spikes in creativity or convenient hyperfocus isn’t a sustainable plan when it can either leave you burnt out after or leave you at a creative dead end for weeks or months between actual writing sessions

If you write consistently, you make progress consistently, so it’s good practice to make a habit out of using writing goals to keep you on track. Maybe you work best writing X amount of words, or maybe you prefer to write for X amount of time. Maybe you want to meet this goal every day, or maybe every few days, or maybe every week, or so on. I’m personally on 1000 words per week, and despite my autistic brain that thought I’d never be able to set and keep a consistent goal, I’ve been able to stick to it for nearly six months now. I also know people who are on 10 minutes per day, 100 words per week, 500 words every three days, 5000 words per month, etc

For me, being able to keep track of this not only means I get to see consistent progress being made, but it’s actually been really encouraging to see that word count go up so often and I’ve found that it motivates me to keep up with it. I’ve really enjoyed getting to work on this and having a minimum amount of progress per week really helps me feel like this is something real and something that’s slowly but surely going to be complete soon enough

Give it a try; say to yourself “if I want to achieve this goal, how long do I reasonably need to give myself to do it?” and have a go. After a few cycles it starts to register in your brain that, hey, you’re actually getting something done and being productive and watching that word count going up every day/week/etc! And don’t be afraid to change up your goal and your deadline if you think you’re not being challenged enough or if you’re starting to get burnt out on it - I’d consider it burning out when it’s consistently feeling less like a fun activity and more like a chore you have to do. It should still be fun!

[klausysworld]

Very closed off reader who kinda clings to Klaus because they relate to him in the fact that he has family troubles :( she sees that he clearley does the things he does because of trauma or whatever and so does everything in her power to show him that he's got someone to fall back on.

Every time he shouts at her or retaleates because he's upset and dosent understand how soemone could be so nice to him she simply gives him a hug or a gift or just sits some distance away to show he isn't alone.

She deals with all his meanness quite well because she's used to it from her family and has learned to block it out :( one day he really has enough of her and after something goes wrong with Elena or Salvatore he really doesn't want reader around him. She tells him quite confidently that he needs soemone to help him and she would never leave him alone at which point he smirks and says something snarky before proving that he doesn't need her. He reaches into her chest and grips her heart and kinda realises he is in the wrong when she looks kinda shocked and sad so he gently takes his hand out and feeds her his blood to help with the damage he left behind. Afterwards reader is less affectionate with him and only sits with him when he is in a state, now afraid to touch him incase he lashes out but still wanting to support him cuz she cares about him :(

Thanks for reading, love your stories!

The Betrayed Becomes The Betrayer.

Growing up on an aggressive household desensitised me to a lot of things; yelling and smashing objects especially. My parents were a mess, I'm not sure if they didn't know how to love or just didn't want to.

Eventually I realised that they were the same thing and that I wasn't wanted at home, so I left and found Hayley.

Which was how I wound up finding Klaus.

He was a broken man, I could tell. Elijah confirmed that their parents had been cruel and abusive almost as soon as we met him which I assumed they also must've become desensitised over it after a thousand years.

However when I actually met Klaus, it was obvious that he was still deeply affected by it. I could understand him, his feelings and his thoughts. I got why he wanted to be so strategic, to have the control that was taken form him. I knew why he wanted to make people hurt the way he hurt and why he was as aggressive as the the people that raised him.

I wasn't violent, or an angry person. I had learnt to be quiet and keep things to myself so that I didn't get in the way but I would think about it. How it would feel to hurt someone, to make them feel worthless and then leave them. Could it really feel good enough to do over and over?

In my head I assumed it must do but I could never bring myself to actually torment someone the way I had been.

But I could tell that Klaus was still haunted by the past and it affected his every move. I couldn't blame him, or fault him for acting upon the images that swirled in my own mind.

Often he got frustrated, angry and inevitably lash out against someone. Something would be thrown, smashed. Someone would be yelling, screaming.

But I never wanted to be mad at him, to me he didn't deserve to be ranted at for what he'd done. They were riling him up further and it was obvious, it was like they wanted him to explode and hurt someone.

So instead of pushing him off that edge, I tried to help him back up.

To begin with I would just be the only one in the room not glaring at him with hatred. I just wanted him to know that there was someone on his side. He didn't notice for a little while but after a couple arguments I think he started to feel my presence. Sometimes he would get snappy, ask what I was looking at but when I'd just tell him that I understood why he did what he did, Klaus would get less defensive.

I wasn't a touchy person, ever, but the time his mother had been back and she hurt him so bad that he cried in his room, I didn't know what else to do but hug him.

After that it seemed like I was hugging him all the time. He calmed so much easier with some touch.

Sometimes he accepted it without complaint but sometimes he didn't want anyone near him so I would go away and come back later. He knew I was there when he needed me and I learnt to be a patient person.

I also learnt not to react so when he screamed in my face I didn't yell back. He had been so stressed lately and a lot of people had died yesterday the day before. I left him alone for the night before coming back in the morning to try and be there, he didn't want to talk so I went away and came back in the afternoon. To begin with he was fine but he got angry so fast, I barely said anything before he was yelling.

I tried not to react, not to talk back or get defensive but then he pushed me. Both hands on my shoulders, shoving me backward toward the wall and I tensed and something stirred in me.

I told him he was being ridiculous, pathetic and he didn't know what he needed.

"What? You think I need you? You think I like your desperate little cuddles. I'm not the one craving touch and love. I've been fine for centuries and I don't need a clingy little thing following me around." He snapped at me and I felt my frown deepen and the hurt biting at me.

"I'm not being clingy...I'm just trying to be helpful." I whispered and he scoffed.

Klaus got close, too close and it frightened me a little. I took a few steps back and he chuckled, trapping me to the wall.

"What is it, love? No more snuggles? You don't want to tell me it's okay? You gonna tell me I should paint a picture?" He mocked, his breath hot on my face. "You think I'm pathetic sweetheart? Think I need you? All I need is for you to disappear." His voice was low but clear, eyes cold and I felt the adrenaline hit and screaming for me to run but I froze just like I used to when I was little.

The smallest sound left me when I felt something agonising within my chest. My mouth opened but no noise would come out and I struggled to breath at all. I looked down, watching my own blood seep through my clothes and drip down his wrist. My eyes were stinging and I could feel my heart close to exploding as his grip tightened. I wasn't sure if I was stood there for hours or seconds before my body reacted and my arms shot up, both my hands latching onto his wrist so he couldn't pull the organ out.

My eyes shot up to look into his, seeing them soften after a second before his hand let go around my heart. A loud cry left me when he tore his fist out of my chest, leaving a gaping hole. I panted and a strong metallic taste filled my mouth as blood dripped past my lips.

His voice sounded blurry when he tried to tell me something, nothing felt real as my legs went weak and his hands touched my sides. The touch made me cry again and I felt him hesitate before something gross was pressed to my mouth and I couldn't tell if I was choking on my blood or his.

After a moment I could feel my body healing from the inside out, physically I felt better but now my mind was spinning. I looked up at him again, I could feel the fear pulsing through my veins when he reached his hand toward me.

This time I didn't freeze.

I was up and out of the room as fast as my legs could move.

I avoided him for a few days, part of me knew he wasn't going to do anything again and that he felt bad about it but the other part of me couldn't help but worry.

It was only when he was attacked again that I willingly sat in the same room as him.

"You okay?" I asked and he looked over to me, he was splattered with blood but at least it wasn’t mine.

"Yeah...I'm okay." He whispered, nodding.

I shifted in my place and he shuffled over on the couch so I could sit on the other end to him. The silence was awkward for a while, actually the entire time.

It was for quite a lot of the times I was near him. I wanted to be there for him, show him I understood but I was still scared and I didn't want to be close enough that he could kill me or hurt me just incase he did.

It was when he was carried in my Elijah, Papa Tunde’s blade in his chest causing him to be immobile and in agonising pain, when I got close again.

Elijah dropped him to the bed with a soft thud and was moving fast. He turned, looking right at me before talking.

“I need you to feed him your blood. It’s laced with vervain, he’ll heal slow. You need to keep him here or he is going to kill Rebekah. I don’t want to burden you, Y/N, but I’m afraid you’re the only who’s even a possibility.” He directed quickly, whilst dragging the blade from his brother’s chest.

“A possibility for what?” I asked, confused and afraid. I didn’t want to give him my blood. It was like asking him to kill me.

“You’re the only person he might listen to.” He explained as he headed for the door. “He won’t hurt you.” He told me and it sounded like a promise before he left.

Klaus let out a groan and I turned, hesitantly walking over to the edge of his bed. I silently dammed myself for being concerned enough to follow Elijah when he carried him in here.

I looked down at him, wincing at the cut that hadn’t healed down the length of his bare chest.

“What…what happened?” I whispered, wanting to reach out to touch but willing myself not to.

“Elijah-“ Klaus grunted, his teeth grinding as he forced words out. “He stabbed me for her.” It was clear that rage was all he felt in that moment as he tried to push himself up, only to let out a cry of pain.

“Rebekah?” I wondered and he seethed.

“She betrayed me. Called Mikael. She wanted me dead!” He yelled, his aggression growing as I felt my hairs stand on edge.

I was quiet, watching him struggle desperately.

I understand why he was so mad, betrayal was a huge thing for him. Abandonment, paranoia. It made him this way and Rebekah used it and ruined all of their lives but I had no doubt she had her reasons…not that I’d tell him that.

“She doesn’t now” I whispered and his had snapped to me. “She loved you now, she’s here now-“

“Only months ago did she stand beside Marcellus and watch as his vampires tried to kill me. She has always wanted me gone. She’s so desperate for Marcel that she’d kill her own brother-“ he snapped and I flinched.

His voice died off when I stepped back and he grunted softly. He was taking fast but deep breaths, trying to gather some stability and I could feel Elijah’s words echoing through me. That I had to let Klaus feed from me.

Reluctantly I shifted closer again, he was quiet as I sat down on the edge of his bed. His body was laid so close to me and his chest moved with each pain-filled breath.

My entire arm shook as I held it out, right infront of his face and it made his skin dance with veins. “Love…” he muttered, his jaw clenching as he inhaled through his nose. “I’m not going to hurt you” he uttered, I could feel his eyes on my but I couldn’t look back at his. “Not again. Just…there’s blood bags downstairs”

“Elijah said I have to use mine, the vervain makes it slower or something? I don’t know…I can’t do it wrong” I pushed my wrist closer, glancing at the fangs that were pushing past his gums.

“He won’t be mad.”

“He’s trusting me.” I whispered, finally looking up to klaus’s eyes and he sighed before slowly nodding.

I almost tugged my arm back when I felt his teeth pierce the skin, the sting making me move but his hand lifted to keep me in place. His eyes stayed locked on mine as he fed, it was such a strange sensation; much less painful than a needle.

As I felt myself weaken, I noticed the wound across his body fixing itself. My eyes started to go and for a second I faltered, my head beginning to drop but his other hand caught my chin and held me up. His fangs retreated back up and something warm and wet slid across my wrist before I was leaned up against him.

“I’m so sorry, love.” He whispered into my ear. “I have to finish what they’ve started.” He told me and I knew he wanted to murder Rebekah and I wanted to talk to him but he’d taken so much blood. His eyes stared straight into mine, reaching into my mind. “You’re going to fall asleep, you’ll wake tomorrow morning and you will feel no pain from this bite. I will heal you when I return. I promise I didn’t take enough to kill you, just to empty you of vervain.”

I wanted to argue, yell or anything but my mind shut down and my eyes wouldn’t stay open. I sunk into myself completely and lay, somehow conscious and unconscious as I tried to wake myself up.

I woke the next morning like he instructed my body to do, I glanced at my wrist to find it wrapped in bandages. My head lifted to see a glass of water, tinted pink by what I assumed was blood beside a small teddybear.

Hesitantly I sipped the drink, feeling instantly better before picking up the toy.

“I thought you’d like it” a voice sounded from the doorway, I glanced to see Klaus. Both his hands were behind his back and a guilty look painted his face.

I pushed myself up, it felt strange being in someone else’s bed; especially Klaus’s.

I didn’t answer him as I got up and pushed past him, shoving the teddy into his chest and going straight to my own room.

For a man who hated betrayal, he sure knew how to commit it.

He knew I was already afraid of him, that I didn’t want to be that close again and he took advantage of the ounce of trust I still had.

I understood him, but I couldn’t do this again. I’d been in this situation too many times.