#is throwback thursday still a thing?

[whywouldyouaskthatpod]

Ep 28: Ghosts of Jell-O Past

CW: War, Poverty

"Even if you can’t cook, you can make a Jell-O dessert!” Ads promoting Jell-O in the early 1900s gladly declared the gelatin treat to be easy and quick, a delight! But things got weird in the 1950s when the jiggly food started to be introduced with a more savory profile… Join us this episode to talk about the history of gelatin desserts, the flavors, the inclusions, and the all-important Weird Food Culture that surrounded Jell-O!

If you prefer to listen on a podcast app instead of in video format, here's the embedded audio.

[furbyfubar]

I was going through an old hard drive and found this photo of me from when I was 23. At the time I really didn't think I was good looking at all. So I'm sharing this to remind all you young ones of two important things:

• If you are young you are almost certainly better looking than you think. When you get older you will look back on photos of yourself and feel stupid for all the opportunities you squandered and regret the time you spent feeling inadequate.

• I was fucking hot!

[weirdopponent]

Port of Trieste

When the boy fell he was watching the ocean. He left his eyes open wide for seeing and taking in, for looking at the pale clouds over the moldy eggshell sky, which was likely blue but he couldn’t see that. When the boy fell, it was dawn. When the boy fell, it was forever, and the world behind him was dazed with sleep and tangled in hotel bedsheets.

As he looked at the harbor, he thought he wouldn’t be able to distinguish sky from sea, but that wasn’t quite right. The blue of the water was light and - well, watery, and clear, and filled with such depth of color, with so many things. There were boats half trapped under the surface, their lines stretching down deep to seek solitude in the silt. The reflection of his face, eyes he couldn’t meet.

He wondered if he ought be ashamed.

The boats bobbed, up and down, nodding past their noses. Some left the harbor with a drawl, slower than they looked and faster than you’d think, leaving him without an answer. He would ignore them, no matter what they said. If his teachers and parents had no agency over him, then surely the ocean and the boats did not, either. He did not care. He did not ever care.

The world was yet quiet, and Gertie was sleeping, the world tangled in her hotel bedsheets, and the boy fell. He fell as he always had, as he always would, leaving the world wondering why he’d want to drop from it when it had everything he should want to have, to be, to make.

When he lands he will be remembered by grotesque lines digging into watercolor pages, long and jagged and strange-looking. He will be remembered by the stretch of ugly sexuality, or perhaps he will not be remembered at all. The world will follow him, eventually.

But for now, he falls, and he ignores the boats bobbing “yes, yes, yes”.

[freakassfemme]

streamer!gf! abby head cannons ✩°｡⋆⸜ 🎧

this came to me so violently. i couldn't get it out fast enough

✮⋆˙ initially she gets popular with a male audience through first person shooter games and her custom builds of old ass computers from like, random 90s scrap lots she finds on ebay

✮⋆˙ is playing black ops or something for a throwback Thursday and bumps into some random kid on voice chat who tells her to play Roblox (she's never heard of it)

✮⋆˙ lev explains it to her and she finds the concept really weird and kind of funny so she agrees and streams it one day, which SHOVES her through a portal to popularity

✮⋆˙ hot buff nerdy girl w glasses on my computer? yeah her demographics change REAL fast

✮⋆˙ surprisingly she has a lot of fun with it. she thinks the games people recommend her are really hilarious and her chat eats it up

✮⋆˙ never mentions being gay until someone makes a Chappell roan reference in chat one day and just casually she's like "omg my girlfriend loves her"

CROWD GOES WILDDDDDDDDD

✮⋆˙ very quickly they want to meet you. abby refuses at first, but slowly allows you to weasel your way in, whether it's through playing on your switch in the background, blurred out, or you running after bear and alice to try to rush them out of abby's office

✮⋆˙ soon enough you're sitting down live because abby can't place on dress to impress and she's pissed

✮⋆˙ it becomes a joke, but she loves it. she really enjoys making more light-hearted content and connecting with different types of people rather than vaguely-threatening tech bros

✮⋆˙ has a thing where if anything gay happens on screen she salutes the camera or gives the craziest side eye

✮⋆˙ still goes back to her roots and plays the most random old games she's had to pirate off some sketchy websites and download suspicious files to obtain, just laughs nervously when everyone's freaking out about it

"whaaaat? no, the internet is really nice to me. it would never do that -- oh FUCK" (mods are rushing to blurr out her IP address)

✮⋆˙ has the driest, most sarcastic humor that everyone adores.

"I want to rip your bicep off with my teeth... that's really normal of you."

"you think you could do it better? yeah? is that going to be before or after your homework?"

✮⋆˙ very minimalist, black setup with some black ambient lighting that's low-key like hot as fuck

but she's really clumsy and trips a lot, especially because it's dark. her monitor is falling like every other night and she's lucky it hasn't cracked

✮⋆˙ constantly bombarded with edits of her to muse that you'll be running in to show her midstream. she gets the biggest, most shit-eating grin

also didn't really understand what an edit was until you showed and explained it to her lol

✮⋆˙ eventually, as she opens up more and becomes more of a charming personality than a stoic bro-type, she starts making other friends.

yeah she becomes friends with streamer!ellie <3

as the time goes by, she and ellie get really close. there's definitely multiple streams of you, abby, dina and ellie playing mario kart or luigi's mansion on some first generation wii

✮⋆˙ abby teaches you how to jailbreak anything and everything from a 3DS to a switch, even when you're freaking out that she's going to lock it and you'll have to get a new one

✮⋆˙ eventually she sets you up a little corner in her office for when you join her on her streams. it goes from being one camera to you both having separate monitors, and yours is obviously much more colorful than hers

✮⋆˙ on very, VERRRRRY rare occasions she'll say something like "gotta lock in" or "ate", and its usually after like the most gruesome scene in a horror game and like 20 seconds delayed

like imagine her saying "gotta lock in" trying to be funny and finally getting into the bathroom in silent hill and then just sitting over the sink with her jaw on the floor for fifteen seconds

"Jesus Christ, am I going to get banned for showing that?"

✮⋆˙ really gets into analog horror and eventually starts drafting her own concepts, which pushes her into the rabbithole of ARGs

✮⋆˙ loves when people make virtual stickers of her, she thinks its really funny and though she never gets into "merch", she doesn't mind people turning stuff into actual stickers. she thinks its even funnier when she's never seen a screenshot until someone sends her it as a sticker

lets you keep them all and put them on the fridge or your water bottle

✮⋆˙ never does anything risky on stream but is no stranger to leaning back in her chair for a good time if you tiptoe in one night after she's logged off

[ohnopicturesofanothercat]

For Throwback Thursday if that’s still a thing: a Bridget baby picture with her mother and brothers, taken by @sunken-standard. She was born to be a star I guess. 😸

[befemininenow]

"My gender identity is one thing. My desire to have her body is another."

Now that I got your attention, here is a tribute to those feminization pages that are either gone or are still here. While they seem kinkish and fetishistic, these kind of captions were a gateway to explore gender expression for a lot of us who were in the closet for years. This is what I was aiming for when making this caption. (I also haven't seen this image in a caption for years now and I wanted to give a small Throwback Thursday to my followers.)

And let's be honest, everyone has their secrets. But with the way some radicals love to dictate and punish those who act outside the "norm", it's no wonder why some are afraid to show even an ounce of femininity (or masculinity) to their social circles. Ironically, those radicals are always the one who break the rules the most. Outside, they seem to be a "perfect rolemodel" of what a "normal" person should be. But inside, they have fantasies and kinks that are, well... let's not talk about it (lol)!

Looking back, it wasn't so much the desire of wanting to be a bimbo like her that made me interested in captions, nor the need to have her features. It was essentially me trying to find some validation for my inner gender and how to express it. Like, yes, she is sexy and her clothing is envy, but all I want is to be a girl like her. Nowadays, if I see a woman like her, let's say I would want something more than just her body, if you know what I mean. ;)

[andreisvechnikov]

Hurricanes’ Seth Jarvis leans into status as an honorary Harvard grad

By: Luke Decock, April 24, 2024

When Tripp Tracy was asked to speak at a meeting of the Harvard Club of the Research Triangle last week, he naturally invited the Carolina Hurricanes’ two other Harvard Men to join him. Jack Drury, owner of a Harvard diploma, class of 2023. Seth Jarvis, owner of a “Harvard Alumni” T-shirt, class of not quite veritas.

Neither Drury nor Jarvis could attend because of the team’s pre-playoff dinner gathering, but Jarvis was nevertheless welcome despite his self-proclaimed “Grade 6” education, because if there’s one thing that’s true about the Hurricanes’ third-year forward above all else, it’s that if you try to make him the butt of a joke, even a heartfelt, good-natured one, he’ll find a way to turn it back around on you.

When Drury returned from his Cambridge graduation last summer with the crimson T-shirt as a gift for Jarvis, he never expected Jarvis to cut off the sleeves.

He never expected Jarvis to make it his undershirt and wear it under his shoulder pads every single day of the season. For every practice. Every game. Every postgame interview.

“I thought, there’s no better way to put it to use than cut it into a tank top and wear it under my gear,” Jarvis said.

Seth Jarvis. Harvard alum. The shirt says so.

“There have been a few people who have seriously asked me if I went to Harvard,” Jarvis said, “and they’ve obviously never had a conversation with me.”

The Hurricanes have always had a strong connection to Harvard, through Tracy and his youth teammate and future front-office executive Jason Karmanos, through players like Craig MacDonald and Craig Adams.

They’ve had players from the rest of the hockey-playing Ivy League schools as well, other than Brown: Jeff Hamilton (Yale), Kevin Westgarth (Princeton), Lee Stempniak (Dartmouth), Riley Nash (Cornell). Now Drury. And, apparently, Jarvis.

“I think it’s been awesome,” Tracy said. “I would have liked to have had him on the roster.”

Even within the hockey world, it’s hard to imagine two teammates as different as the goofy Manitoban and the cosmopolitan Harvard grad becoming so close. Jarvis left home at 14 to play junior hockey in the Western Hockey League and was in the NHL by age 18.

Drury, scion of a prominent hockey family, spent two years at Harvard and another year overseas in Sweden; even though Drury is two years older than Jarvis, Jarvis has played more than 100 more NHL games than Drury.

The two are akin to brothers as much as they are friends or teammates, so when Drury gave Jarvis the shirt, it was with the best of intentions. Still, give Jarvis an inch or two, he’ll take all 200 feet, same in the dressing room as on the rink.

“I got it for him hoping he would wear it,” Drury said. “Using it as the undershirt, I love that. I didn’t know he’d do that. Once he started to do it, I thought it was awesome. He’s a character. But you couldn’t have a better guy around the room.”

Every single day, the shirt goes into his laundry bag to be laundered with the rest of the team’s base layers, an old-school throwback amid the sweat-wicking, high-tech gear.

By now, seven months into the season, as the Hurricanes head north for Thursday’s Game 3 against the New York Islanders with a 2-0 lead in their first-round series, the T-shirt should probably be in tatters. It looks just fine. Other than the missing sleeves.

“It’s hung on,” Jarvis said. “It’s high quality. Only the best at Harvard.”

At the end of the regular season, when Jarvis sat in on the Bally Sports broadcast with Tracy and Mike Mansicalco while sitting out Game 82, he told Tracy he would have liked to major in “micro-macro engineering” at Harvard, which sounds like a typical Jarvis malaprop, mishmashing economics and engineering. But it also could very well be somebody’s bespoke “special concentration” in Harvard’s engineering school, studying “theories of engineering principles” or the “interactions between microscopic innovation and large system models.”

Jarvis, with his elite hockey IQ and even quicker wit, may be more evidence that you don’t have to be book smart to be smart. He plays up the dopey-goofball angle because it gets laughs — “There’s still a lot of stupidity going on throughout my day,” Jarvis said — and won the Josef Vasicek Award this season for his quotability, but he’s the son of two educators, and there’s a spark that animates both his personality and his game, burning bright under all the self-deprecating humor.

“He plays a little dumb, but he’s pretty smart actually,” Martin Necas said. “I’m positive. He’s pretty smart. He just makes himself look like it on purpose, sometimes.”

Watching his game grow over the past two seasons, as he spent last year becoming a two-way player and this season reaping the rewards, it’s fair to wonder what would happen if he applied himself in the classroom as he has to his hockey career. Who knows what might be possible.

“It’s never too late,” Drury said. “He plays it up a little bit but he’s smarter than people realize. He’s got a good head on his shoulders.”

And the T-shirt over his shoulders to sort-of prove it.

[subwaysurf45]

Meeting the Family

Summary: Bucky was having his family’s annual birthday celebration because seeminly everyone was born in Feburary. you were invited which meant you had to meet the large family Bucky comes from, and with your luck it didn’t go as smooth as you wanted it to. 

Words: 5k

Warnings: panic attack, spitting, mention of stress hives, protective/clingy Bucky, mentions of poverty (if you squint really hard) 

Spring reading week was definitely needed already, you sat in your tutorial while you managed to stay on top of the practice questions rather than doze off like the guy beside you. It was rapping up and people were already starting to pack up and some had already left. 

The moment the lecture ended you raced out the door, not before saying goodbye to your TA and wishing him a nice week off because you - though you hate to admit it - like to suck up sometimes. Once you were walking with Bucky on campus and saw one of your profs, Bucky stood for five minutes as you pitched up your voice and asked about her kids. He never let you live it down that sometimes you were a teacher’s pet. 

Natasha was standing at the bus stop with your duffle bag in hand, you had packed it last night and begged her to bring it to you so you could catch this bus rather than the next one that comes in an hour. She had a smirk on her face as you jogged up, taking the bag with a smile. 

“I can bring your backpack back to the house, if you want?” Nat offered, her hand already outstretched to take it. 

“No,” you caught your breath, “thank you though,” you smiled and pulled her in for a hug, “have a nice reading week, I’ll be back Thursday.” 

“I still can’t believe you’re up there for six days,” she laughed, “throwback to when you thought he hated you.” 

“Shut up,” you rolled your eyes, “and yes, I’m up there for a week, apparently there’s some birthday thing because seemingly everyone is born in February.” 

The bus driver honked and you hugged Natasha goodbye, quickly tapping your card and found a spot. You were by yourself which was great, you needed to put your duffle bag somewhere. This would be a full day of travelling instead of the ride you could have got yesterday, Bucky’s parents have some cabin that’s three hours away but this day would take double the time due to a bus and then train ride. 

You had two important tutorials today that you couldn’t miss, it also helped that Friday had a discount for student bussing, there was always a brightside. You shot a quick text to Bucky to let him know you were on transport number one and super happy to see him. 

You had met Bucky’s parents before you two started dating because Bucky invited the entire group up to the cabin but forgot to let his parents know and they had the same idea. You then spent the weekend with ten people; half were in college and the other were retired. 

It definitely was an important night for you. 

“James,” Ernie slapped Bucky’s shoulder, “I need you to understand that you don’t meet those kinds of women everyday, that girl is perfect for you, you have to sweep her off her feet.” 

“She’s dating someone, Ern,” Bucky whispered, rolling his eyes and leaning back in his camp chair, “this weekend blows.” 

“No it doesn’t,” you looked over your shoulder and paused your manicure for Ernie’s wife, “I think Melissa would disagree, would you not?” Melissa nodded and held out her nails, “see?” you looked at Bucky and smiled, but you could see something was actually wrong. 

“I’m going to bed,” it was rare for Bucky to leave the party first, he normally started it. He threw open the patio door and you watched as you stomped upstairs. 

Ernie looked at you, “are you seeing anyone?” 

“It’s complicated,” you sighed and put down Melissa’s hand to grab the other, “he’s…” you groaned, “I know he’s not right for me but…sometimes proximity and being in a relationship for as long as I have is comfortable, y’know?” 

“I don’t,” Ernie said bluntly, “If my lady was away from me for three months I’d write her letters, I’d keep that love alive-” he cleared his throat, “tell me, has this boyfriend made sure you got here okay? Sent you a whatever those are called…texts yet?” 

You purse your lips together, it seemed everyone’s conversations had ended and they were all looking at you. You looked over at Nat who nodded sadly, knowing the answer already because you had already told her. 

“No,” you whispered, “he…he didn’t want me coming because he doesn’t like me around my friends ‘cause…” you looked up at Nat again, not wanting to air out everything in front of these people you barely know, there’s layers to these things and you didn’t want ruin this weekend by talking about your shitty boyfriend again. 

Ernie sighed, “take it from me,” he tipped his bottle towards you, “a lot of people say life is short but when you’re aware you’re in a mistake it feels like a million lifetimes,” he took a long swig, “slowly withering away.” 

You took a shaky breath and stood up, “I’m also going to hit the hay, see you all tomorrow.” 

Half an hour later you were sitting on the corner of your bed, sobbing into your hands as you tried to keep quiet. You could feel this weight from your chest release but also it felt like a heavy blanket was weighing you down, you could barely sit up straight or breathe. 

Five years of a high school sweetheart wasted, all because you told him you didn’t like that he didn’t check up on you. The things he called you, the names. Those names pressed harder on your chest, squishing you down until you were gasping for air while tears streamed down your face. All of your senses were becoming distorted, your vision was slowly losing focus and you couldn’t see out of your peripheral vision, the feeling of your fingers scratching down your neck felt like TV static, everything sounded like you were underwater. 

“y/n?” The door burst open and you could only hear your name being called from underwater, from his long brown hair tied up being the only thing you could register, you knew it was Bucky. He took your hand that was tugging down your throat to try and create air hole and placed it on his own chest, he took your other hand and held with his, after making sure you could keep your hand on his chest by yourself he cupped your cheek, “breathe, honey, you have to breathe,” he could feel his rapid heartbeat, it wasn’t helping like it normally does. 

“I-” you managed to hack out, trying so hard to gain control. He gently tapped your face to try and bring you back, you couldn’t hear him talking over the pounding in your ears but you knew he was trying. Thrashing out, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him close, feeling things begin to settle when he held you tightly. 

“You are very safe,” he spoke directly into your ear as he held you close, “you are safe with me, alright?” 

“Okay,” you whimpered, balling up his t-shirt as you breathed in his scent which lowered your heart rate. “We broke up,” you gritted your teeth, “I called him a while ago.” 

Bucky pulled out of the hug but kept his hands on you, “how did that happen?” 

“I didn’t like how he didn’t check in on me,” you looked down at your lap, “and I…and he bit back and called me names and I just had enough, so I broke up with him and he screamed at me,” you let out a wet laugh, “I froze and his voice sounded so crisp it was like he was standing in front of me so I didn’t hang up, he just kept going until I snapped out of it.” 

“Do you want to come sleep in my bed?” Bucky brushed away your tears, “just so you’re not alone?” 

“Okay,” you timidly stood up. 

“We will be stopping for five minutes at the Main Station, please take your time getting off and remember to take all your personal belongings with you, have a nice rest of your day, thank you.” 

You sat up straight and got off the bus, heading out into the main area and looking up at the screens to try and find your train platform number. You walked around for a while and noticed it was number 14 but you had time, so you got yourself a snack while you waited beside the tracks with a few other people. After sending Bucky another text you looked down the tracks and snacked on your cream cheese bagel, patiently waiting for the light to appear in the distance. 

********

The house was already buzzing with family members, they were all asking about if you were going to be there. Apparently your mother had told them about you, you had met Bucky’s immediate family but no cousins or grandparents yet; this would be the big day. 

“So you’re making her take a train and a bus to get here when you could have stayed back one more day?” Bucky’s uncle was already tipsy, for some reason getting upset and the situation. 

“y/n and I both talked and we agreed this was best for the both of us,” Bucky sighed in annoyance as you took another sip of his beer, “I’m driving her home next week and picking her up form the station today, so…” Bucky rolled his eyes and headed into the kitchen to find his mom plating all the appetizers. 

Winnie looked up and smiled, “could you be a doll and bring this out?” she nudged the spinach dip, Bucky nodded and picked it up. “Is everything alright?” 

Bucky looked around to make sure no one was in earshot, “can people just stay out of my relationship?” he whispered while he walked around the island to get near his mom, “I mean, my God, we aren’t going to crash and burn just because she wanted to go to two very important classes which makes her have to come up today,” Bucky placed his beer down, “it's just everyone is on my ass about it and it’s starting to piss me off.” 

Winnie nodded, “you’re the oldest out of this generation in the family Bucky, all your cousins are younger than you and you’re the first to introduce a girl,” Winnie cupped his face, “people are just excited there’s fresh meat, I bet you any money they’ll swarm her when she shows up.” 

“That is the exact opposite of what I want to happen,” Bucky leaned against the counter and crossed his arm, Winnie stepped in front of him. “Have you mentioned in the e-mail about-”

“Yes, I have,” she scrunched her nose, “no one will make a single comment about what or how much y/n eats, no one will mention anything of the sort.” 

Bucky let out a deep breath and rolled his shoulders back, “I want this to be enjoyable for her,” Bucky looked at his mom who was nodding, “y’know, I want her to like my family but I also know the sheer number of Barnes’ can make anyone feel cornered, and when she feels cornered she…” Bucky rubbed the back of his neck, “and the last time she was here she broke up with her previous boyfriend,” Winnie placed her hand on his clenched jaw - making him relax it.

Her eyes flicked between Bucky’s, “you get protective and this anxious when she does, you hear?” Bucky nodded again, “right now, you are going to put that bowl on the coffee table and then come back for the chips as well as the pigs in the blanket and then you will go pick up your lovely girlfriend,” Winnie spoke softly and Bucky closed his eyes, “and you won’t crawl all over her with information and you won’t be glued to her hip all day, you can’t be the one to corner her, alright?” 

Bucky bit his bottom lip, “I love you, Ma.” he pulled her in for a hug, “I got really lucky with you, didn’t I?” 

Winnie chuckled, “I'm speaking from experience of meeting your father’s parents back then,” she sassed, “now go run all that stuff,” she waved him away. 

After putting everything out and finding George, his dad, Bucky got the keys to the truck and headed out. He brought a blanket for the passenger seat as the window in the old truck didn’t fully close and the heaters didn’t work. Bucky kept one hidden in the truck for himself when he was driving his dad's car. 

********

It had been five minutes since you got off the bus, you were shaking as you stood in the parking lot. Your arms folded over one another and you bounced in spot to keep from freezing solid, nothing helped with the outfit you were wearing. The train had the nicer bathrooms so you changed there, pulling on black tights to go under and a chunky wool dress that seemed like an oversized sweater; something Bucky would wear. 

The cabin was in the woods and a little more North, making it colder than campus even though the winter was not completely gone yet. Spring break was more like the end of winter break for where you lived, but a break was a break. 

A truck pulled in and flashed its headlights, you ran up and opened the door. Bucky looked nice with his dark green flannel, black shirt complimenting his hair and eyes. You lunged over the center console and hugged him, his hands pulling you as tight as he could. 

“You look so pretty,” he whispered, “you’re going to have my eight year old cousin wrapped around your finger,” he laughed as he took your duffle bag and threw it in the back seat. After you got settled in, Bucky drove away, taking one hand off the wheel to place on your thigh. 

“So,” you sighed, “what do I need to know?” 

Bucky laughed, “you’ll find out soon enough,” he briefly looked over at you, “just-...” Bucky scratched his stubble that was growing in, “I have a lot of family members and I was talking to my mom about this,” Bucky looked over once he stopped at the red light, “you’re the first person someone has brought home, I’m the first to have a girlfriend and bring her to a family thing so…”

“Go on,” you cupped his cheek. 

“They are going to be all over you,” he admitted, “they already are and you weren’t there yet,” he pushed out a laugh, “so I’m not trying to scare you or anything, I just want to to be prepared and if you start feeling anxious just tell me, we’ll take a second outside, okay?” 

You nodded, “that’s lovely Bucky,” you smiled wide, “you talked to Winnie for advice about me,” you cooed and scratched his cheek when he got extremely red, “I love that, baby, thank you.” 

“And…” Bucky swallowed hard, “I just want full disclosure with this,” he turned down a dirt path, “I ask them to keep comments about food to a minimum, I just want you to know that.” 

Your lips parted with a gasp, “really?” he looked over like he was in trouble but was met with you melt into your seat, “I really appreciate that, lovey, thank you.” 

The moment you stepped foot in the cabin you were greeted with loud chatter coming from another room, Bucky called out and you heard Winnie call back. Bucky took your bags from you and also hung up your jacket, smiling as he gave you suggestive eyebrows when he saw your full look, it was becoming a running joke between the two of you. 

Winnie ran over with her apron on, she held her arms out for a hug and you gladly fell into it. You had met George and Winnie a few times before, it was easy to find out that Bucky was a copy and paste of Winnie, everything about him was the same. She took your arm and stole you away from Bucky, taking you into the kitchen with her. 

“So,” she opened the fridge, “I picked up those ingredients you sent me, they are all over in their little corner,” she pointed to the top right, “dinner is going to be early so whenever you need to start just go ahead, alright?” 

“Sounds good,” you nodded. Before heading into the busy living room you were pouring yourself a glass of white wine, “George, nice to see you!” you reached out for a hug and he gladly accepted. 

“You got your work all done?” He asked as he took out another beer for himself, “Bucky told us you two two tutorials?” 

“Yep,” you took a small sip, “I was confused about the lesson and I didn’t want to be thinking about it this entire week so I thought I would clear it up for the big celebration,” you giggled until you quickly realized something, “has it arrived, by the way?” 

George couldn’t contain his smile, “it has, it’s going to be in your spare room under the bed.” 

“Perfect,” you raised your eyebrows, took your glass, and headed into the loudest room in the house. 

********

Repeating the same conversations over and over bored you like crazy, you didn’t know how many times you had to go over your entire life story until the entire room was on the same page. It was the same thing every time. 

You were standing by yourself with your second glass in your hand, what looked like an uncle had locked eyes with you and was coming over. You smoothed down your dress and smiled back, when he walked up he shook your hand and then faced the group before the both of you. 

“How are you liking the family so far?” simply from the way he talked you started to figure out who his kids were, you could also tell he was on Bucky’s dad’s side. His posture was almost perfect, a sweater tied around his neck and hanging off his back like a cape. 

“I’ve met some of you guys before, just in passing, but seeing everyone together is very sweet,” you giggled and looked over at Bucky who was showing his eldest grandpa something on his phone. 

“What are you studying?” he asked and took a sip of what looked like whiskey, it was odd because almost everyone else was drinking wine or a beer from the bottle. 

“Psychology,” you said for the ninth time, “but I’m definitely going back to school after, to specify.” 

“Huh,” he poked his tongue against his cheek, looking around the room again. He seemed to be waiting for something, he fixed his posture and you tried to look at where he was looking but nothing could be found. “I have my PhD,” he leaned down and added when you didn’t ask. 

“When did you defend it?” your eyes lit up, “i’ve always wanted to watch one happen in real life, it’s so amazing what you guys can remember and work with on the spot, I’d be too nervous,” you laughed and brough your glass up to your lips. 

He seemed to grow red very quickly, “I haven’t defended it yet, I’m…” he paused, “I’m close to submission on my paper.” 

“Oh,” you nodded, “so you don’t have it yet?” You couldn’t help but laugh a bit at the way he was trying to get out of the hole he dug himself into, he was far from actually having his PhD. part of you felt like he already had people call him Doctor. 

“I don’t,” he gritted out, “I’m going to grab a beer.” 

********

You were working away in the kitchen to make your little desserts for everyone, Winnie had taken her break and was mingling with everyone else. Bucky joined you not too long after to simply sit and watch, he watched you in silence as you looked back and forth between the recipe and the bowl in front of you. 

“I love it when you talk to yourself,” Bucky muttered, “you’re adorable.” 

“Shut up,” you grabbed the whisk and started mixing. 

You and Bucky stayed together in comfortable silence, both of you had done tons of talking already and just being near one another was enough. He had this calming presence that worked even when you weren’t aware you were up tight, it seemed his aura lowered your heart rate no matter what. 

People would come in and out to fill their drinks or see what was going on in here, a lot asked if they could help but you kindly declined. The music could be heard from the kitchen but not the living room, you bopped around as you placed the cookie mix onto the cookie sheet. 

At one point Bucky made his way around the island and towards you, picking up your wine glass and going to the fridge. He filled it and added ice cubes when you asked, making you smile to yourself as he softly replied. You looked over your shoulder to see him move swiftly but with care, slowly dropping them in so it didn’t bang against the glass or cause the wine to splash up. 

His hands made their way around your middle, you plunked the cookie dough on the sheet as his head dropped to your shoulder and stayed there for a while. His entire body was pressed up against you, Bucky just swayed as you worked. Every once in a while he’d place a soft kiss to your shoulder to reach around to tuck some hair behind your ear, nothing that got in your way or annoyed you. 

“I think it’s almost dinner,” Bucky whispered, giving you a squeeze. 

“Can I sit beside you?” you joked, looking over your shoulder to see his smiling face. It was a no brainer but you still found it sweet he nodded quickly. “I also think this is going to be my last drink,” you took a sip, “it’s really nice but I’m getting tipsy,” you both laughed. 

Bucky let go and took the tray to place in the oven, “my dad always breaks out the whisky at night,” he shook his head to himself, obviously remembering something, “beer makes me happy and funny drunk while whisky makes me all needy and clingy, get ready for that.” he walked over again, “I mean it.” 

“You already are a grade A clinger,” you pecked his lips, “looks like you’ll be miserable with me in the guest bedroom.” 

Bucky quickly shook his head, “nu-uh, I’m sneaking in or bringing you with me, I’m going to fall asleep on top of you, I’m calling it now.” 

Everyone made their way into the dining room, you found your spot beside Bucky and looked around at all the food in front of you. For a moment you were overwhelmed but Bucky’s hand was swiftly placed on your thigh, when you looked over Bucky wasn’t even looking at you, he was talking to his gramps again. 

As the food was passed around you put enough on your plate, getting coy when Bucky gave you a bun without asking. Little conversations began to build but you and Bucky stayed in your own little world, whispering to each other and laughing as if you were out on a date with no one else around. 

After a while Bucky’s youngest cousin began to ask you questions, it was much more entertaining than the adults. She asked if you had any imaginary friends or dogs, everyone laughed as she rapidly fired questions. 

“Do you and Bucky love each other?” the little girl asked. 

“Very much so,” you giggled and leaned into Bucky, he kissed your temple. 

“So…” she lost her train of thought, “do you and Bucky kiss?” 

Everyone laughed and Bucky answered, “sometimes,” causing the room to awkwardly laugh. 

The eight your old tucked her chin into her neck, “do you hold hands?” 

You lifted your hand to show you were already holding it, bringing your other hand up to sip your wine. 

“Do you have sex?” 

Immediately spat out. 

The white wine sprayed all over the kid’s face and food that people were eating, everyone erupted into belly laughs, including Bucky, but you stared horrified at the little girl crying in front of everyone. Your hand covered your mouth as you sat in shock, the little girl’s mother scolded her for asking that and wiped her face off with a decorative napkin. 

“That was too good!” the PhD faker slapped his knee, everyone agreed except you. 

You sat in horror as everyone calmed down and worked around their infected meals, you just curled up and kept your head down. The last thing you wanted was for this to become a household story that will show up next year, the embarrassment made your entire body boiling hot. You reached over and grabbed Bucky’s ice water, taking a couple gulps which also meant he looked over at you. 

“No,” he whispered, “no stress hives,” he rubbed his thumb down your neck, “baby, it’s okay,” you didn’t listen as you kept drinking his water, feeling him rub your back as you tried to cool down. 

Occasionally someone would laugh, all you thought about was the kid being wiped down in the nearest bathroom, it looked like a whale breached right beside her. She probably didn’t know what that meant and had run out of questions, she was so cute when asking other questions you knew she was coming from a good heart but not the right definition; she must have meant to say something else. 

You kept to yourself for the rest of dinner, not really engaging in the conversations and no one talked to you anyways. Eating quickly, you finished with enough time to get the cookies out of the oven and have a moment alone in the kitchen. You found another cup and filled it with ice water, letting Bucky keep his own glass. 

“Here are the cookies,” Bucky called as you walked in with the platter, “you guys, they’re amazing,” he took some of the plates away from the people who were done, “does anyone want coffee or tea?” 

“Oh, Buck, I can do that,” George stood up from the head of the table, “stay here, alright?” 

Bucky sat down and was quick to pluck a cookie for himself, making sure you saw him eat it and encouraging other people to eat as well. They all began to snack away, quickly looking at you with wide eyes; they were a hit!

“It’s a very old recipe,” you smiled. 

“Tell them the story,” Bucky nudged your arm. 

“Well,” you smoothed out your placemat in front of you, “My mom and I were moving out of this apartment complex because they were tearing it down for some…I don’t know, high rise,” you looked around to see everyone intensively listening, “and so when they were in the middle of construction my mom and I went back to check it out and it turned around there was this cookie recipe that seemed weird on paper with all the ingredients but we gave it a shot, it was old and crumpled up but you could buy it all at the store,” you took another bite, “so when we told people my mom’s friend said that it was probably used as insulation because our complex was old and people used to use news papers,” you laughed, “so we think this recipe literally came from the inside of a wall because my mom and I were in the rubble when we found it.” 

“Isn't that crazy?” Bucky laughed and took another, “when I first heard it, I was like maybe it was keeping you guys warm the entire time, maybe it was next to old newspapers that kept you guys warm?” He slung his arm around you. 

“Why couldn’t you guys get real insulating stuff?” one of the teen cousins asked. 

“It was an old building,” you took a sip of water. 

“Yeah but like,” he paused and scrunched up his face, “couldn’t they fix it, make it with modern materials?” 

You thought about it though you knew the answer. You held yourself back from saying it was the cheapest building on the block but you instead smiled and said, “I’ll give you the landlord’s number, you can set him straight.” 

Everyone laughed and the PhD guy chimed in, “does this recipe call for you to spray anything in it, because I don’t know if that’s a culture thing,” he chuckled, and the rest of the group laughed. 

You could feel the heat spreading around your neck again, “ha, ha,” you smiled through it, “I’ll never live that down, will I?” 

“It’s such a funny story, I’ll tell that one instead of that recipe one for next time,” he had the audacity to wink at you. His smile fell quickly, you hadn’t given him a face but when you looked over your shoulder to see Bucky beside you, it was clear. 

If looks could kill. 

********

You had called it a night a while ago, curled up in bed after finishing some work. Most of the family had left before it got too dark, not wanting to drive out of the lonesome woods in the middle of the night. Bucky stayed down for a while, of course drinking his whisky with his dad. 

“It could have been worse,” you said out loud as you looked at your duffle bag sitting on the chair in the corner of the room. Nothing was perfect but you had made friends with Bucky’s family and learned a lot, they seemed to really like you and not swarm as much as you thought. 

Hearing heavy footsteps coming up the stairs you listened close, smiling to yourself when you were able to label them as Bucky’s footsteps. Your back was to the door but you still closed your eyes, wanting to see what he’d do if he saw you sleeping. The door cracked open and you heard a gasp, he was drunk and needy. 

His hands slipped under your curled frame and picked you up, “my sack of potatoes,” he whispered to himself and left the room, turning off the light. When you were tossed onto his bed you opened your eyes, Bucky was taking off his shirt and nice pants. 

“Are you really going to-” he cut you off as he slipped under the sheets and laid right on you, just like he said he would. His face nuzzled into your chest and his arms held you close, you couldn’t help but play with his hair and watch how fast he fell asleep. “It's your birthday soon,” you whispered, “you’ll get your present soon.” 

Bucky held you impossibly closer, “it’s already here, baby.”

Masterlist 

Taglist: @jackiehollanderr​ @tylard-blog1​ @readingbooksanddrinkingtea-blog​ @linzc-reader​ @hotleaf-juice​ @honeybunchesofbucky​ @seybox​ @yaszx​ @happyt0exist​ @sky0401​ @striving4averagegirl​ @searchf0rtheskyline​ @aya-fay​ @wbyss​ @luvrsbian​

If you would like to be added to my taglist just send an ask!

[burgerkingussy]

My Favorite Thing’s From Milo’ New Audio

(spoilers under cut)

👁️‍🗨️ Sweetheart panicking when Milo came back injured

👁️‍🗨️ Milo’s soft “i promise i’m ok”

👁️‍🗨️ “it was from me, being a dumbass” (the way he said this was just so funny)

👁️‍🗨️ The pack boys go hiking together 🥺 precious beans

👁️‍🗨️ Milo trying to make SH asking to take off his shirt sexy (this man could rival Gavin istg)

👁️‍🗨️ “i did not mean literally poke you monster”

👁️‍🗨️ *SH kisses him* “that does not make it all better” (but then he asks for more kisses)

👁️‍🗨️ “i’m no stranger to a little physical fitness” oh we know

👁️‍🗨️ Milo calling Asher “the energizer bunny on a serotonin overdose”

👁️‍🗨️ Similarly, i just love how David and Milo refer to Ash even though they’re all the same age lol iconic king

👁️‍🗨️ Asher challenging Milo to race up a “damn near vertical” mountain

👁️‍🗨️ Milo calling Ash “happy-go-lucky” and then “a competitive prick”

👁️‍🗨️ “it’s a good time, right up until it wasn’t”

👁️‍🗨️ “damn, sweetheart” 👀

👁️‍🗨️ Milo kissing SH to reassure them while SH is healing him >>>

👁️‍🗨️ Milo confirming that running in wolf form feels good >>>>

👁️‍🗨️ “i’m not gonna be the first one to give up”

👁️‍🗨️ “and the energizer bunny, takes a tumble” WHY DID HE SOUND SO EVIL SAYING THAT???!!!?

👁️‍🗨️ Milo calling Asher one of him best friends and saying that he doesn’t want him to get hurt

👁️‍🗨️ “you’re not going to believe this next part, but as a wolf, i don’t have hands” (comedian Milo??)

👁️‍🗨️ Milo THROWING himself under Ash to BREAK HIS FALL DOWN A MOUNTAIN 😭😭 (when i tell you i love the relationships these boys have 🥹)

👁️‍🗨️ Milo calling himself Asher’s personal surf board >>>

👁️‍🗨️ Milo telling the most dramatic, terrifying story and then ending it with “it wasn’t that bad”

👁️‍🗨️ Milo not wanting Ash to feel bad

👁️‍🗨️ Milo endlessly flirting with SH while they try to heal him 😙🤌

👁️‍🗨️ Milo saying “i can get them” and then letting out with string of “ow’s” is peaky humor

👁️‍🗨️ Sweetheart practicing healing magic since (/because of) the inversion (/Milo’s core being injured)🩷

👁️‍🗨️ Milo insisting on showering even though he’s “covered in full body scratches”

👁️‍🗨️ Throwback Thursday to the first time Sweetheart healed Milo

👁️‍🗨️ “Asher used my shoulder blades as an impromptu pair of skis”

👁️‍🗨️ Sweetheart’s healing magic improving from “sledgehammer” to “barely hurt at all”/“god, that feels good” >>>>

👁️‍🗨️ “you don’t have to ask baby, i trust you. i know you’ll be gentle” THE SCREAM I JUST SCRUMPT 😭

👁️‍🗨️ WDYM ITS BEEN SIX YEARS?? 😭😭😭

👁️‍🗨️ Milo is such a little shit sometimes but i love him

👁️‍🗨️ “i felt bad about him feeling bad” Milo the Best Boy

👁️‍🗨️ Asher being able to see through Milo’s shit >>>

👁️‍🗨️ Also, Asher being an angel and offering to carry Milo because he was injured (they’re more than best friends, they’re brothers)

👁️‍🗨️ Milo STILL trying to make it sexy and sensual

👁️‍🗨️ Milo’s “come here come here” 💗

👁️‍🗨️ “I want to hold you for a bit,, and thank you properly”

👁️‍🗨️ “I love you so goddamn much” Milo and Sweetheart are thee couple. there, i said it.

👁️‍🗨️ “You feel like forever in my arms” MILO FUCKING GREER 😭😭

[attollogame]

Summer Festival Burst Event

Running from July 15-Sept off of patreon (accessible for all tiers), the summer festival will consist of 6 short stories surrounding the Attollo Summer Festival occurring at Lovers Square!

Smash bottles, get lost in a horrible fun house, take a boat out on the ocean (with assistance), and enjoy the fireworks over some snap shots with the core cast.

------

Contrary to belief, Attollo is not always the dreary, destitute location that many perceive it to be, and you discover that when summer officially begins.

The smog that so often hangs above the city soon becomes a means of trapping the heat between the buildings and the concrete roads. You can see the shift in the population, as well; more people spend time indoors with their air conditioning—rendering some parts a ghost town—while others gravitate towards patios and store overhangs to bask in the warmth. 

You're surprised to see that even the sun appears to be combating its way through the clouds in a more proficient manner. 

The thing that really interests you about the shift into summer, however, are the posters that begin popping up around town on various telephone poles and building walls. With a bright, colourful theme, it greatly contrasts the usual aesthetic you find yourself subjected to—which is why you yank one off of the wall as soon as you see it. 

Your eyes narrow in suspicion as you read over what’s advertised. It’s a summer festival—apparently one that comes around every July. You flip the poster over in case there’s anything else advertised, but only a white sheet greets you back. 

Doubt still creeps in your mind as you pull out your phone and skim through the list of contacts you have available. You wanted to do a little status check on this thing, in case it’s Attollo’s version of a lure trap to just get all of the meagre amounts of money you have available. 

Your tongue sticks out a little as you thumb through who’s active. 

DW

Operator

Pariah

Suha

Sysba

Vasilisa

SYSBA EXCERPT

...

When you glance to the side, you spot Sysba lounging on one of the chairs, their feet up on the table and a glass of something red and questionable in their hand. They’re wearing a pair of dark sunglasses and staring intently at the bar across the street. You approach with an amused, albeit slightly confused, look. 

“Did something happen?” You ask as you sit in the chair next to them. Sysba hums and takes a slow sip of their drink before speaking. 

“Did you know they opened their patio after I did?” They finally say, moving their straw around their drink as they keep staring at the bar across the street. “Not only that, but they’re offering the same deals I’m offering my clients, they’ve started a throwback Thursday, and they’re doing renovations like I am.” 

You raise an eyebrow with a smirk. “You know that a lot of clubs and bars do deals and throwback nights, right?” 

At this, Sysba snaps their attention to you, and you can feel their glare even though their glasses conceal it. “They’re copying me, and it’s pissing me off.” 

...

SUHA EXCERPT

“Do you want to do it again?” Suha immediately asks, which has you sending her an incredulous look; or, you would have sent her this look, if your eyes were able to focus on her properly. You feel her hand lightly grab your arm again as she guides you over to a nearby bench and urges you to sit down. She stands in front of you and tilts your head back so that you’re looking up at her.

For a moment, she looks genuinely concerned.

Then she speaks.

“If you plan on vomiting, please do it in the trash bin and not on me. I didn’t pack paper towels.”

...

DREAMWALKER EXCERPT

“Nothing to concern yourself over.” He sighs before shifting in his seat. He reaches down and pulls a ball cap out from under the table, which he then pulls on his head. This is quickly accompanied by a pair of dark sunglasses, and after a moment, you’re looking at someone who is trying to be inconspicuous in the most conspicuous way. 

You stare at him, and he stares back as he crosses his arms over his chest. “What?” 

“You look ready to rob a bank.” You reply with a little grin. Either that, or hack the mainframe. Dreamwalker has a talent at blurring his features when he’s doing his whole ‘terrorize in your dreams’ spiel, but you’re still pretty sure that at least one person will recognize him based on demeanour alone. A scowl like that can only belong to one man. 

...

PARIAH EXCERPT

“My, oh my! Don’t we have ourselves a sharp shooter here?” The worker whistles slowly before stepping back and pointing to the rack above them. “Well, what would you like to claim today, then?”

Pariah looks up at the rack and puts their hands on their hips. After a moment, they point to a cat with large eyes and a permanently shocked expression on its face. The worker pulls one down and hands it to them with a cheery smile.

When Pariah steps down and goes back to where you are, they shove the stuffed cat in your arms. “Here. You two are wearing the exact same expression right now.”

Your expression shifts to a sardonic one as you wave the cat in the air and follow along after them. “Thanks. You really know how to make me swoon.”

“You think I’m trying to make you swoon?” They glance back at you with a cheeky grin. “Please, you look like you’re about to collapse in my arms from the heat alone. You think I need to work for this?"

...

OPERATOR EXCERPT

“God, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this,” you muse as you squint up to the cavernous ceiling above. It truly is an architectural feat, to craft an entire metropolis below ground. It’s an act that would usually take years to complete, but you figure that the perk of having powered abilities probably got it done a lot faster. Operator pockets his keys and comes to stand beside you.

“You’ll get used to it, trust me,” he sighs. “The more you come and visit, the more it’ll feel like entering any other city—other than the several hazards this area poses. Like stray dogs, for example.”

He gives you a pointed look before turning and beginning to walk down the street. You grimace as you follow behind. Stray dogs… it feels like he has no intention of letting you live that down any time soon.

In fact, you wouldn’t be surprised if he had a recording of your standoff saved on his hard drives downstairs.

...

VASILISA EXCERPT

By some miracle, you actually survive until you hear the familiar put, put, put, of Vasilisa’s car pulling up. You’re pretty sure it’s an import from outside of Attollo, and you’re also pretty sure it was made in the early 90’s. It’s a wagon with manual roll down windows, and yet she looks so happy as she pulls up and tugs down her sunglasses to peer at you.

“Well? How’s your first Attollo summer?”

You send her a look before circling back and getting into the passenger seat. You make sure your seat belt is on real secure before happily accepting the ice cold drink that she offers you. “I think I speak for everyone when I say it’s weather to melt in.”

[the-sun-and-the-sea]

Odesta Week Day 4: Throwback Thursday

Annie is almost fourteen years old, and that is a very important age to be. Yes, there’s the ‘you’re growing up’ speech that her parents foisted onto her last year, but that’s not what she means. She’s talking about something even more important than that.

From the ages of twelve to fifteen, students are leaving District Four’s training facility in droves. That’s because this is where things start to get serious. A lot of parents pull their kids out before they reach sixteen, so they never live and train at the Academy full time. But the teachers are also cutting people from the program; anyone who can’t run or fight or survive is gone.

That won’t happen to Annie.

She’ll be sixteen soon enough, and then it will be her turn to live at the Academy. It will be her turn to become a Senior and eventually be selected as the volunteer. Her Games will be the 70th, the first of a new decade. She got really lucky in that way.

She’s just gotten out of a weapons class, but she needs somewhere quiet to study. Although the Academy doesn’t require as much studying as regular school, they’re still expected to know the most common causes of death and what weapons are most frequent at the Cornucopia. Annie finds her way to an isolated hallway, grinning as the sunlight that beams through the big windows hits her skin.

It’s only after she walks a little further that she realizes she isn’t alone.

He’s sitting on a bench, slumped against the wall, oddly still. The sunlight seems to illuminate him from the inside out. When he looks at her, his eyes are so vividly green that her breath catches.

Finnick Odair. In case that wasn’t clear enough from the description of his eyes.

Annie almost apologizes and walks away. Victors are supposed to be treated with the utmost respect, but Finnick Odair is only a year older than her, so it feels weird to treat him like any sort of authority.

“Mind if I sit?” she asks, faux casual. Hopefully she’s not overstepping. She’s pretty sure Finnick Odair doesn’t even know her name.

“Sure,” is all he says.

Annie joins him on the bench gingerly, pulling out her notebook that’s filled to the brim with her careful handwriting. This notebook has everything from arena strategy to fighting stances to different tactics for the Flickerman interview. Finnick peers over her shoulder, and Annie pretends she doesn’t care.

“I guess you don’t need this stuff anymore,” she says conversationally. There’s a hidden question in there too; what are you doing here? He must pick up on it because he huffs a laugh.

“I spent a lot of time here,” he says. “I used to come here when I needed to think.”

Annie feels heat rise in her cheeks. She’d never admit it because the last thing she wants to do is look stupid in front of Finnick Odair, but she does the same thing. “What are you thinking about now?”

“Are you going to volunteer?” Finnick asks, promptly changing the subject. It’s not a smooth transition at all, but she supposes that since he won the Hunger Games, some brusqueness can be excused.

She folds her notebook proudly in her lap. “Of course.”

He gives a vague hum of acknowledgement, and Annie can’t tell if it’s approving or disappointed.

“Do you have any advice?” she asks after a beat of silence.

“No,” says Finnick softly. “I thought I did. But I don’t.”

She gets the feeling that they’re not talking about the Games anymore. The only problem is that she doesn’t actually know what they are talking about. “Well, that’s okay. You’re only fourteen. You can take your time, right?”

He laughs. “I guess I have all the time in the world now.”

What that must feel like, to have achieved your life goal at fourteen. Annie can’t even imagine. She’ll be eighteen by the time she wins, practically an adult. It all feels so far away. “What are you going to do with it?”

He actually smiles now, and it’s genuine enough that his eyes brighten. “Eat all the saltwater taffy I can find.”

“Lucky,” she says. She’s actually salivating. The Academy doesn’t really do sugar; the closest thing she’s had to real dessert since she turned twelve is protein cookies, which are definitely more protein than cookie. “When I win, I’m going to have so many muffins.”

“What kind of muffins?”

“Chocolate. Obviously.”

Finnick hums. “Solid choice. You don’t have to win to have muffins, though. They have them in the Capitol.”

“It’s not the same,” Annie says immediately. Victory muffins will just be different. She watches the swatches of sun on the ground until they start to swim in her vision and she has to look away. “What’s the Capitol like?”

“It’s cool,” he says with a shrug.

When he doesn’t elaborate, Annie asks, “That’s it?”

“I don’t know. It’s weird. The people dress like they’re in costumes all the time. And they sound weird when they talk.” His eyes meet hers guiltily. “Don’t tell anyone I said that.”

“I won’t,” she says solemnly.

“It’s not too late to drop out of the Academy,” he says, and Annie’s caught so off guard by the sudden change in topic that she almost drops her notebook.

“What? I’m not dropping out. I’m going to—”

“Win the Games, yeah,” Finnick finishes. He’s not looking at her anymore, but his eyes have taken on a glassy look. “Just try to think about if that’s really what you want.”

What is he even talking about? “Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“I was reaped,” he reminds her.

“I know,” Annie replies, because she’s watched the reapings of every living victor enough times to memorize them. “But you trained here before that. You must have wanted it a little.”

Finnick shrugs. “I guess. I don’t really remember, honestly. Everything feels different now.”

It would, after an experience like the Hunger Games.

Annie stands up, sliding her notebook back into her bag. “I hope you figure it out,” she offers. “Whatever it is you’re thinking about.”

His eyes gleam in the sun as he looks up at her. “Thanks, Annie.”

[forest-of-stories]

Throwback Thursday, Fandom Edition: Vampires of London

The Magnusquerade is an AU, created by NevillesGran and Listless_Songbird, in which all of the Fear Avatars in The Magnus Archives are vampires, with a variety of different powers depending on which Fears they serve in canon.  Eye vampires can read minds and manipulate memories, Corruption vampires can command vermin, Vast vampires can fly, and so on.  In this world, the Archives staff were first Elias’s thralls, and then became Jon’s after Elias turned him.  All of the titles consist of corporate jargon.

After reading an almost incidental line in an early fic, Management Skills With Regard To Attempted Homicide, I thought, “I know exactly how this scenario would play out!” and the author gave me permission to write that scenario when I asked.  It was one of those ideas that would not leave me alone until I put it on paper.

I posted Encouraging Employee Initiative on October 2, 2019.  Since then, I’ve written or co-written 25 more fanworks in this universe, more than half of my TMA fic output to date, and totaling almost 58,000 words.  One of those stories connected me with @amusedmuralist, who’s now among my closest online friends, and we’ve spent many, many hours discussing possible storylines for the vampires at the Magnus Institute and beyond.  A few other amazing writers have contributed to the AU as well.  The Magnusquerade gave me the opportunity to play with my favorite telepathy and mind control tropes – and to write Elias as even more of a Manipulative Mentor Figure than he is in the show – without worrying about whether I was being too self-indulgent.  I hope that everyone is able to experience this kind of creative and collaborative joy at least once in their fannish lives.

Contributions to this AU – including my own – have slowed over the last year.  I still hope to return to it at some point, but even if I don’t, it’s still one of the best things that’s happened to me in this, and maybe any, fandom.

[where-is-francis]

Steve harrington x male reader fluff where steve is dating a flim nerd and they work together but in the breakroom they make out

𝙁𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙎𝙝𝙞𝙛𝙩

𝙎𝙩𝙚𝙫𝙚 𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙩𝙤𝙣 𝙭 𝙈𝙖𝙡𝙚!𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

Before You Interact - Rules Of My Blog

𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙩: Clumsy beginnings can lead to happy endings. Even for a former-douchebag like Steve Harrington.

𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙨: He/Him

𝙎𝙩𝙮𝙡𝙚: Literally all fluff.

𝘼/𝙉: IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK AGES I NEVER CHECK MY DRAFTS AND I FORGOT JFC but I had this idea for meeting Steve for the first time (bc my first impressions are always awful) and decided I had to write it like this. So it’s not exactly like the request but still.

𝙏𝙒: Throwback to when Steve got drugged by the Russians, mentions of weed (he tries to convince you he doesn’t smoke/it was a one time thing), no use of Y/N, I think that’s it.

The mention of Steve Harrington’s name would’ve earned no reaction from you at one point. He wasn’t anybody special, just another name and face in the school hallway. You never really had any classes together, and the end of high school solidified the difference in interests. You’d be lying, however, if you said it didn’t surprise you to see the brunette sporting a gaudy sailor suit and taking employment at Starcourt.

It wasn’t unusual for you to be at the mall. You and a few friends would normally meet up to go see whatever was playing in the theater as an excuse to hang out. It was a mutually loved experience — though you’d lost count of how many popcorn kernel shells had gotten stuck in your teeth that summer. If you weren’t at the theater, you were probably at the video store. Your life revolved around movies.

Naturally, it wasn’t surprising that the theater was where Steve met you on a very specific night. But his first impression was anything but perfect. In actuality, you’d forgotten all about it until a few weeks after when he came in for his first shift during late August. It was surprising, to say the least — considering how Keith despised him — but the brunette seemed pretty happy to swap the ‘Ahoy!’ printed hat for an equally ugly green vest.

It was early on a Thursday when he had his first shift with you. In his mind, he had been dreading and simultaneously looking forward to the shift. It was inevitable that your schedules would line up, but it still seemed too soon. The most you’d seen of each other was in passing or payday, casual interactions that left the (taller/shorter) male silently thinking about you for the rest of the evening.

You dreaded the shift a bit as well. Not for any big reason, but Keith said Steve had a shitty taste in movies. And it would’ve broken your heart, just the tiniest bit, to see the look on his face when you shot down his trashy recommendation to fill the lobby.

Even for only being there a few weeks, he caught on quickly, but had to redo his work most of the time considering how clumsy he was when flirting — both verbally and literally. While attempting to woo a really nice brunette girl, his stack of returns fell and scattered along the floor. You watched, amused, as the two picked the tapes up.

She left without getting anything other than a laugh.

Steve glanced at one of the hanging clocks, squinting a bit to make out the time.

“Break time?”

Your (e/c) hues caught the time and you nodded, motioning towards the back room. Nobody was likely to come in, but you left the break room door propped open just in case. Steve walked over to the fridge and pulled out the leftover pasta you had stowed away. The beige walls and cheap folding furniture didn’t do much to add comfort to the room, but your smile definitely did. He moved slightly, giving you space to use the small microwave.

Since that night at the mall, something about you had the (taller/shorter) male hooked. He remembered knocking the drink into your chest and muttering apologies, before staring at you in his drugged haze. You weren’t mad and began laughing it off immediately, instead becoming concerned about the blood and bruises that hid his features. Something about the way those fluorescent lights in a multitude of colors made you look ethereal and otherworldly. He had never seen a guy like you.

With the pasta finished warming up, you made your way to the small table while Steve tried to hide how he looked at you. He grabbed a half-empty can of Pringles and moved to lean against the wall. The loud climactic score of Terminator rang through the empty lobby and provided ample ambience for you two.

Steve’s sneaker tapped anxiously in tune to the music, leaving him to figure out what to say.

“Hey, I just — wanted to apologize? For, like, when we first met and everything.”

You looked up and met his eyes. He was expecting a confused look or for you to be mad, but you rolled your eyes instead. “Oh please, don’t even worry about that.”

He took this as an invitation to pull up the chair across the table and offer you a chip — to which you declined — before he continued.

“You actually remember that?”

“Uh, how could I not? I was seeing Back To The Future on the Fourth of July and you ran into me so hard I spilled my Coke. Not to mention I’ve never seen anybody’s pupils so wide — what did you do that night?”

Steve groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose with embarrassment, but smiled underneath his palm. Something about the way his bushy brows furrowed was unexpectedly cute and endearing in your eyes.

Nobody could deny that Steve Harrington was attractive. No, he definitely was. But especially now — not being shadowed by Tommy or Carol or any of the other stuck-up assholes from school. Now he was best friends with an awkward band girl and gaggle of dorky freshman. He was different. Still handsome and confident, but more authentic.

Steve leaned back a bit in the folding chair. “Oh man. That was a trip, for sure. I had a, uh, special brownie after work and was going to meet somebody to see a movie. I definitely overdid it, though.”

A smile formed over your features as you leaned closer to keep the conversation quiet. Keith wasn’t supposed to come in, but if anybody found out about Steve and the brownie, the nerd would definitely use it to fire him.

“Holy shit. Did it kick in during the movie? Wait — what happened to your face? You were all… bloody and fucked up.”

The brunette laughed and tried to think of a convincing lie. You wouldn’t believe he was drugged by Russians, of course, but it wasn’t a good idea to blurt that out. He leaned back and stretched a bit, giving you a good view of his toned arms that perfectly filled out his striped shirt.

“It kicked in before the movie even started. But Billy had been messing with Max — stepsister, friends with Dustin — and I tried to get him to just go home. Needless to say, he wasn’t happy about it.”

“So you fought him again and lost?”

He somewhat faked offense. “Uh, no. I didn’t lose. For your information, he had a date and left. But I’m assuming you knew about the first time?”

Steve watched as you poked and prodded the lukewarm noodles in the Tupperware container. It was evident that you were enjoying the story, anybody could tell with how your eyes glinted mischievously in the humming light of the break room.

“Of course. Everybody knew. I mean, I always thought it was pretty cool how you watched out for Henderson and stuff. Even if it did mean getting your ass kicked.” You wiggled your eyebrows at him.

He couldn’t be mad. In all honesty, it made him giddy — the idea of you thinking he was cool or something. The titles and admiration from peers began to matter less and less since graduation, they were nothing more than grains of sand. You, however, were different. You didn’t have to try to be anything — it came naturally.

Steve’s eyes wandered over every detail of your appearance as you focused on the pasta. It was like he was back in the theater, staring wide eyed at some (h/c) haired God.

Though you couldn’t see it, you felt the warmth of his gaze. “You’re staring again, Harrington.”

A hint of red dusted over his freckled cheeks. In an attempt to avoid saying something stupid, he resorted to eating again. The silence wasn’t tense, but it wasn’t very comfortable either. You wanted to ask about that night at the mall, as well as why he still seemed to look at you like you were the most beautiful thing the world had to offer. At first, the mall situation could’ve been a fluke. He was high out of his mind — it would make perfect sense.

But now? He looked at you in the exact same way, nearly a year later, completely sober.

You rested your chin into the palm of your hand and met his gaze again. “I bet the movie was totally amazing in that state.”

Steve nodded and flashed you a grin. It reminded you of that night and how his smile still seemed perfect, even with his perfect white teeth contrasting greatly to the dried blood that had covered his face.

“It was… something, that’s for sure. Felt like my mind was just gonna—” he gestured and made a cheesy explosion noise, “—yannow?”

“And was that from the brownie, or the movie?”

The brunette laughed nervously and shifted in his seat. Your voice was enough to drive him insane in the best possible way; sweet, caring, but still teasing enough to keep him going. Robin had been telling him to just go for it — he didn’t want to get his hopes up at first, but she insisted her superpower was having ‘gaydar’. That, and you’d not so subtly flirted with a few guys that came into the store.

Unbeknownst to you, Steve’s heart picked up in pace like it was about to pop out of the confines of his chest. It almost beat in time to the ending credits of the long forgotten movie that played in the lobby, and left a rhythmic pulse going through his body. He shrugged a bit, trying — and failing — to stop the words before they could come out.

“It was the movie at first, but something changed. I just remember looking at the lights then I ran into you.”

You laughed. “You looked at me like a deer in the headlights. I was tempted to call an ambulance, if I’m being honest.”

“I don’t blame you. I feel like I stared for hours or something — you just looked really hot. I mean, besides being covered in Coke. Pretty sure I told Robin you were a Greek God, or an angel, or something. At first I thought it was just the drugs, but then I saw you again and just… it’s the same thing.” He rambled.

And there it was, out in the open, before he could even realize what he was doing. Steve’s motion came to a blunt pause while he registered what he just said aloud. The pace of his heartbeat picked up until its thumping was the only thing he could hear.

The words came out of his mouth so quickly, and clumsily, like they weren’t a combination of the most genuine thoughts and that anybody had ever had about you. It was like an earthquake had just spawned out of nowhere, and once the rumbling stopped, your mind was racing as fast as your heart.

Steve took the silence as a very polite rejection. Once his own earthquake settled, he would try and apologize — ask you to forget about it — and he, too, would try. Every word was genuine, but the timing was off. Even then, he didn’t want to look across the white plastic table and meet the disgust in your eyes.

It would’ve killed him.

You sat with Steve in the stillness for what felt like too long. When his pleading gaze finally met yours, clearly working out what to say, he was met with a smile. Red heat filled the high points of your cheeks and spread into a dusting at the tips of your ears; it wasn’t hot, just warm.

“Holy shit… that’s, like, the nicest thing anybody’s ever said about me. Do you mean it?” The words came out ever so breathy.

Just like that, the former king of Hawkins High let the rest of his composure slip. It was like being exposed for the first time in a while; he wasn’t some arrogant rich boy with his pick of the school. The boy in front of you was as clumsy as he was gorgeous.

“I mean, yeah.” A nervous laugh worked through his body. “This isn’t exactly how I pictured our first shift together — just so you know.”

You grinned at him from across the table. “Me either. But I wouldn’t change a thing.”

There was no rush, but the brunette still felt like he should say something. No words of substance circled his mind, however, so he sat in silence with you in the dull room. Everything about the (accidental) confession had him feeling giddy and like he would melt into a puddle at any moment. With your lunch finished, you put the lid back on and moved it out of the way. At the sound of the bell from the counter, you maneuvered out of the room, sending Steve one last smile before attending to the customer.

A few hours had passed until the moon replaced the sun in a navy blue sky. And though the confession wasn’t what he had planned, not in the slightest, Steve was just glad that you’d been willing to give him a chance. For the rest of the shift, he would inevitably try to think of a nice date for you two. Unfortunately, he didn’t know much of your other interests at the moment — would it be too cheesy to go to the movies? Hawkins wasn’t exactly known for its creative date spots.

Your not-so-secret admirer leaned on his elbows across the counter as you worked on shutting down the computers for the night. It was silent in the door, now filled with a bit of darkness, save for the clacking of keys and the slinky that Steve messed with. The computer screen finally dulled in color and fizzed a bit as it turned off. The brunette followed as you moved towards the door to lock up, trying desperately to figure out how to word things. He hovered beside you like a shadow while you spun the open sign around and tugged the door closed.

“Whatever you’re thinking, the answer is yes.” You eyed him carefully with a smug grin.

“Really?”

“Of course. On one condition, though.” Steve nodded a bit nervously as you began to trap him between your body and the window, “If it involves movies, I’m picking. You may be pretty, but your taste is… in need of work.”

He smiled again. The (taller/shorter) male moved his hand to yours, not quite holding it, just gently running a thumb over your lower knuckles. Such a small gesture, but one that had you weak in the knees again.

“I think I can live with that.”

Reblogs over likes — it helps other people find my stuff. More male & enby reader content on my blog. ST requests still open!

[laylawatermelon]

Now that I'm thinking about it I wanna theorize/call for action outside of buddie (don't worry i WILL return with a vengeance) but now I'm on a bit of an Eddie Diaz kind of run.

I'm reading a fanfic now of Eddie's sisters which kind of spawned me to think about his relationship with them and kind of think about his family dynamics and expectations and what's coming up for his storyline.

Now they mentioned bringing his family in, specifically his sisters, and i think this storyline ties into Marisol (noname i swear this drives me crazy when i think about it?!??! PLEASE if you want me to care/be invested gimme a last name!) and his Catholic guilt/sense of responsibility/man of the house complex.

They've introduced how his upbringing brought him a lot of guilt and a sense of duty (to serve and protect amirite? Dang religion can be a perfect line to how modern society works but lemme save that for a thesis or something this is about 911 on abc🤣)

Back on topic though, there's a really nice post talking about how he's military family and how that affected his and Shannon's relationship. (x)

Reading that helped me to appreciate the writing and details.

I also want to talk about the beautiful work being done on Twitter and Tumblr about the Miami Vice costume theory and coincidences.

(heh throwback Tuesday and takeover thursday came in clutch with finding these x )

Yes i do ship buddie, but if I look at it not just as a romantic things but as they are written as kind of parallel soulmates who run along the same line of development.

One always spurs the next to grow and change and are heavily involved in some way even if that way it's just being themselves.

Buck being open with his sexuality will trigger something in Eddie. What it is can vary.

I think if we look at it with non shipper glasses, Buck's freedom will lead to Eddie's freedom. What I mean by that is since Eddie had came to the 118 Ryan mentioned how each year he was there the more he learned about himself and other people.

I think what Eddie would be at free from the image/expectations of what a family should look like/be.

He knows what a family could look like in a queer/unconventional way. Bathena's unit, Chimney and Maddie's family (let's say cause they're not currently married with a toddler church would pass out), and HenRen's family.

The could be and should be is the important part.

Eddie grew up being told what he should be and what his life should look like. Evidently his life went none of the ways it was intended to go.

He's a widower single father from a teen/young pregnancy and veteran. Sure he's a firefighter now but he has no "complete" family.

The way they're emphasizing the mother aspect throughout his story is still fascinating.

(i also thought of something hilarious as like he probably imagined/process mothers as like the Virgin Mary or something when they brought up how he can see woman as mothers but not really women at the same time)

(also Madonna whore complex was mentioned and it's also a fascinating way to look at it as he can either desire or love.)

Shannon seems to be the only exception and even that is iffy. I would also say that when she became a mother the desire kind of left? I think the mother aspect solidified for him when she left them I would say.

Yes they did have sex but that was a (very bad, horrid) form of communication between them. They both avoided stuff at some point in some (eh it's like 20/80 her and Eddie) cases.

Every other woman he has dated has kind of been a substitute, for a lack of a better word, replacement for the role of mom.

Now he knows what moms should look like in all shapes and forms. He knows what dads should look like. He's knows what his family should look like.

Granted he did get rid of some of the flaws of his father and the way he was raised which also ties into the way he is.

Eddie was parentified at an early age. (I will say as a black/poc person that there tends to be adult responsibilities placed on our communities kids from young partially because of culture but mostly because of the inherent unevenness that we have to struggle to make balance worldwide in different facets and environments.)

Once again, this is about 911 on abc, not my thesis😭.

I just imagine him standing on a stool to cook food for his sisters or some other things like laundry. Or even worse the cannon car accident with his pregnant mom. (I love to make myself cry)

Eddie had technically been a parent since he was a kid. He literally became the man of the house or the father. So i guess that entailed taking on the emotional and sometimes physical burden of the father role.

I guess when he was actually a father and not just the role he felt the weight of responsibility again and panicked. It makes sense he has a habit of running since he never had the opportunity to do so as a kid (since he never got the chance to be one).

So after Chris it was once again role of the father but now with added responsibility of bringing money to provide the household which he didn't have to do in that role.

It was hard then so it became even more difficult.

So he gave his body to the military and returned wounded in mind and body, and with a disabled son who needed insurance and stability and a wife who just needed him.

And he needed to be a man. Again and again and again.

He broke out of the loop when he got to the 118 (bless the haven that is that building) met Buck, then Carla and Bobby who offered a safe place for his kid.

He was no longer alone and had distanced himself physical from the church but mentally still shackled in his beliefs.

After this Buck and Tommy things and he's not present we're going to focus on how a family could look for him.

Last season and recently they mentioned the fact that his aunt had been divorced and he didn't know.

There was also mention of family secrets.

There was also Marisol and Chris together which I'm guessing he wasn't to happy with her but it's either or since we haven't seen them together so it's a 50/50 chance. More like 90/10 he's annoyed or feels weird about his mom being replaced). Since we touched on him repairing his relationship with his mom and subsequently girls and women/relationships he wants to be in now that may shift his image of Marisol suddenly being more present.

Slight Buddie tangent (i gotta let the beat out for a sec raaa-) but the fact that he's still hanging out with Buck pretty consistently (well we can say he's his other parent who's sadly been in his life almost longer than his mom 🥺 lemme stop I'm crying) but it might decrease due to his and Tommy's relationship. (They're two firefighters with very busy schedules ofc he's not present they got work to do chop chop!/j)

In turn this leaves Chris with one less stable parent figure and it's forced to turn to Marisol who may be overeager to please him.

This can lead Chris to probably feeling uncomfortable with the changes because he's happy his dad's happy but he's not happy because it feels like his family's changing again too fast, and what if she leaves then his dad's not happy and a whole other sleet of teenage issues and angst.

So what I predict their storyline to be going it's that Eddie tries to find his own freedom from the church and maybe even the expectations of his home community would have on him.

Buck will be radiant in himself at the wedding, so will Hen and Karen, and Marie and Chimney, and Bobby and Athena.

He'll look around and look inward.

He'll stop focusing on what his life should look like and focus on what it could.

And that life could be just as radiant as the family he's apart of now.

(and that's all i could ask for 🥹)

[thescrapwitch]

Throwback Thursday Sunday

Thank you @sallysavestheday for tagging me! Sorry I'm late!

Very soon (April 11th) will be the one year anniversary of The Haunting of Imladris, aka that turned my weird little eldritch!Maglor one-shot into a full series which I have come to adore. And, of course, it also introduced me to Lindir, who remains one of my favourite characters to write. So, to celebrate, here's a snippet:

Lord Elrond’s eyes drifted to the harp in Lindir’s hands. “That instrument…” Something like grief flickered in his eyes. 

“My lord?”

“I have seen it before, long ago. After the War of Wrath, I thought it had been destroyed.” He shook his head, as though pushing a memory away. “May I ask where you found it?”

“I once again have Lady Galadriel to thank for it.” Lindir ran his fingers across the strings, sending a few sweet notes into the air. “She gifted it to me in thanks for a…memorably entertaining performance.”

“It must have been quite spectacular,” said Lord Elrond. “It belonged to one of her cousins, you know.”

“Yes.” Though Lindir couldn’t remember which one. Lady Galadriel had so many, and most of them were long dead, and their Sindar names always blended with the Quenya ones in his head. “She said it had been silent long enough and deserved to be played.”

“Lady Galadriel is very wise.” A stern faced elf brought them tea, and Lord Elrond paused to pour both Lindir and himself a cup. “May I ask what it was that you sang about? If your song could win such a gift, I would be curious to hear it myself.”

“Ah, it wasn’t memorable for the song, exactly.” Lindir blushed again, this time in embarrassment. “It wasn’t even my own composition.” Well, he’d have to admit to this failing eventually. Best to say it now instead of later. “I have a terrible memory for history. I can’t help it! There is far too much of it and all of the songs written - especially those from the First Age - are dreadfully boring. In my opinion, respectfully. But an old man came to visit Lothlórien - Gandalf, I think his name was? - and asked if I could sing about one of the famous elven smiths. The most famous smith, according to him, who lived in Valinor before the Two Trees were destroyed.”

“And you did not know the song?”

“I knew most of it,” said Lindir. He could not meet Lord Elrond’s eyes, the memory still a terrible shame. “But I kept getting the smith’s name wrong. For the whole song.” He still didn’t know what it was. Ferinor? Farrimir? Fingolfin? 

“I see.” Lord Elrond, thankfully, did not laugh. 

“Lady Galadriel still enjoyed it, though.” That had been the most important thing, and the only reason Lindir had not thrown himself into the sea. “She thought it was delightful and said that she hadn’t laughed so hard in ages, and that I deserved a reward for such a wonderful performance.”

Tagging: @dreamingthroughthenoise @chthonion @leucisticpuffin @lordgrimwing and @dovewifes No pressure of course!

[ermingarden]

Throwback Thursday!

@grey-gazania (yesterday) and @zealouswerewolfcollector (earlier this month) tagged me to share a fic at least one year old! I'm going back to my first published Silm fic:

A Helping Hand (Fingon/Maedhros, 600 words)

There are a few things Maedhros can't do for himself anymore. Fortunately, Fingon is happy to help.

I wrote this for @naryaflame in the 2018 round of fandom_stocking. So many people were so nice about it and really made me feel welcome in the fandom, so revisiting the ficlet definitely brings back happy memories! (I was so intimidated to write for Narya - I've now written for her twice and she's been unbelievably lovely both times!)

In retrospect, this was definitely influenced by Handle With Care by @thelioninmybed (one of the first Fingon/Maedhros fics I ever read!), although I'm not sure I realized that at the time.

I've definitely grown and changed as a writer since posting this, but there are still parts I'm happy with, and it touches on themes I'm interested in today. "He had to give Maedhros the dignity of taking him at his word" remains my favorite line.

Also, I did not realize until posting this here how smutty the summary sounds without the tags - it's about hair braiding!

Tagging @polutrope, @naryaflame, @vardasvapors, @welcomingdisaster, and anyone else who's reading this and would like to share something!