#been being traumatized everyday recently. but like. will I have to go too??

[cherrysnax]

havin the weirdest crisis of my life

[cup1dt3a]

Prefect’s Revenge

Summary: The dorm leaders and the vice dorm leader of Scarabia have been noticing weird things going on recently. Having no clue why until the Ramshackle prefect reveals their the one behind their recent misfortune at a meeting.

A/N: This is basically just a crack fic of Mc being done with everyone’s bs and proceeds to traumatize the overblot group. I’m slowly getting back into writing. I hope you’re all doing well and are having a wonderful day/night!

-Sincerely Cupid Tea 💖

It started off with Riddle soon noticing something different with his breath. Usually after he brushed his teeth he always felt like his breath was minty fresh. Recently though he soon noticed an odd taste in the back of his mouth. He hadn’t changed anything recently. Nothing in his routine seemed different too. Even confiding in Trey about anything that could be causing his bad breath. Sadly Trey couldn’t even figure out why and just told him to buy some mints to help including trying to brush his teeth more. The red head was soon left to ponder why his breath smelled so bad recently.

Then it was Leona. Sure his dormitory was known for reckless and obnoxious beastman. Though it’s never been this bad. All he wanted to do was sleep that’s it, but for some reason his dorm mates refused to turn down the music or stop partying. He was honestly sick and tired of hearing the blasting music from the lounge area. He’s even had to grumpily get out of his bed late early in the morning to tell them to keep it down. He was almost on the verge of actually begging them to shut the fuck up. He couldn’t even sleep in the botanical garden anymore without Last Friday night playing on repeat in his head once again. Even I’m a Barbie girl was haunting him.

Soon misfortune stuck Azul his coin collection that he locked in the vault wouldn’t open. He even got 2 new coins. Very rare and coins that were easy for anyone to steal and make a fortune off of. He soon tried to pull the door open thinking it was jammed. Sadly that didn’t work at all. He’s used a chainsaw, a lock picker, he even tried using the twins brute strength to open the door. After hours and hours of trying to get the door open in a desperate attempt to get his coin collection he threw himself at the door. Sadly, once again nothing worked. He was currently heaving with tears of frustration just wanting to put his new coins in his collection that he couldn’t get to.

Jamil soon started to notice an odd sensation on his back in the middle of the night. He mistook it for the cold breeze coming into his room due to it being colder at night. Soon it felt like something crawling on his back. But every time he checked there was nothing. He soon let his imagination get the best of him thinking it was spiders crawling up his back. Not to mention the recent spider infestation at his dormitory it seemed that everyday for the past week everyone in the Scarabia dorm was seeing spiders. This only scared the vice house warden more.

A horrific thing had happened in Pomefiore. Vil. The Vil Shoenheit had a pimple on his face. A horrendous pimple was on his face. Wait now it’s 2! Now it’s three!! What is happening!? His skincare routine was impeccable!! There’s no way this should be happening!

Idia was currently panicking. How the hell could someone hack him!? His everything was hacked!! He couldn’t even play with only friend online without the screen glitching out! Who the hell even downloaded so many viruses onto his computer!? How did they even download so many!?

Diasomnia was no better than the rest as a harsh thunderstorm plagued the dormitory. Malleus had lost his tamagochi Gao-Gao Drakon-kun. Which should’ve been impossible, but here we are he was currently tearing his room apart. While the rest of diasombia cowered at Malleus’s rage Lilia, Silver, … mainly Lilia and Silver tried to help him calm down and think rationally before he caused a tornado to run through the campus. Sebek was no help at all as he joined in on the destruction of Malleus’s room determined to find his masters Beloved Gao-Gao Drakon-kun.

Soon they were all called to a house warden meeting to discuss something with Crowley. They all stood a bit awkwardly. Riddle for once kept his mouth shut as he sat at the table before shoving another mint into his mouth for the 12th time today. Leona was on the verge of passing out as he looked down looked as if he was in pain and sleep deprived. Azul looked upset for once as if he was frustrated about something. Jamil looked paranoid as he kept glancing back and forth left to right at the walls occasionally slapping his back. He had come due to Kalim needing to study for an upcoming test due to his grades getting low. Vil on the other hand had on a mask. Idia was aggressively tapping his tablet making an upset groan once again seeing the screen glitch. Malleus on the other hand was impatiently tapping his foot he had no time for this he needed to find Gao-Gao Drakon-Kun. He was thankful to actually be here for once, but he had more important matters at the moment.

Soon and unexpectedly {Y/N} came in to break the silence.

“… Well it’s oddly quiet in here for once.” you chuckled.

None of it found it amusing as they all looked desperate to get out of here.

“ Fine then I’ll cut to the chase… Crowley didn’t invite you all here I did. “ you revealed having them all look at you in confusion.

“Why prefect?” *riddle asked popping another mint into his mouth after cringing smelling his breath.

“Well you see… you guys all remember when you overblotted right?” the atmosphere immediately grew a bit tense.

“I’m still pretty pissed about it to be honest so I thought why not get revenge on all of you.” This immediately caught their attention.

Soon Vil ripped off his mask yelling “ You did this to me!?” The others stared at him in shock his chin and cheeks were covered in red pimples. Well everyone except you this made you chuckle as you nodded.

“ Yep I replaced that cream you use in your face routine with lard.” You giggled as Vil gasped looking at you in disbelief.

“… W-wait what did you do to be then?” Riddle asked covering his mouth this made you sigh.

“ Riddle in all honesty I did this to you a while ago when you acted like a tyrant… I’ll apologize for this one but… I used your tooth brush to clean the toilets in Ramshackle.”he stood there in shock before gagging and running out the room.

The others just looked at you in shock and one by one you revealed what you did to them. For Leona you actually installed speakers outside his room that constantly play Last Friday night and Barbie girl. Turns out Ruggie really will do anything for a quick buck and donuts. Azul you had used super glue on the vaults lock. Idia you had ortho teach you how to hack and he’s surprisingly a very good teacher; you even sent idias search history to his parents. You had actually put a pregnant spider in Jamils room. Last but not least for Malleus you stole his tamagotchi.

“… You did all this for what!?” *Azul had a crazed look on his face as he looked at you in disbelief.

“ Revenge!” You yelled.

[maybe-boys-do-love]

Love You Teacher looks good, actually, and too many people are just jumping to conclusions.

Nowhere in the trailer does it suggest age-regression kink play, only a traumatic response exaggerated for dramatic purposes that, by all indications, inhibits the established couple’s sex life. (Let it be known, though, sexual exploration between consenting adults is chill.)

More casual age regressive tendencies is kind of the norm in relationships, and y’all y-series fans love it. There are so many edits with one part of couple acting cutesy and being taken care of by their supposed faen. ‘Baby’ is a common endearment for a reason! When we’re in relationships, we pout, we act more cutesy, more vulnerable. Love You Teacher looks to be dramatizing this element to spark conversations about balance, mental heath, and care, both for one’s self and in relationships.

This isn’t some weird romance trope that BL’s pulling from the shady corners of the internet cuz it’s kinkier than het romances. Traumatic regression that leaves one partner simple-minded to some extent has been a part of some really silly and also some really profound Western movies. You’ve got dubious films like Big with Tom Hanks or Adam Sandler’s approaches, but Elf, Thirteen Going on Thirty, or even something more indie like Lars and the Real Girl, with a young Ryan Gosling, (P’Dome seems to be a bit of a cinephile so I wouldn’t put it past him as a reference point) reveal the sweet sincerity that can emerge when these kinds of stories are done conscientiously.

Perth and Santa seem beautifully cast in this. Both have worked in BL for some time now (just with other companies—check out baby Perth in UWMA!) and are listed as one of three leads in Perfect 10Liners, so the accusations of them jumping the seniority queue are a bit misplaced. Even if that were the case, that point would be moot after what they delivered in the mock trailer.

Santa’s adorable energy finds great use in both the role of the ideal primary school teacher and the character’s reverted 7 year-old mental state, and it lends itself as a response to actor Barcode’s recent complaint regarding the infantilization and limited mature roles for those who are established as a uke in a partnership. I’m excited for the industry to address and push for conversations and roles that allow these actors to age. Sometimes that means letting them take on gritty characters that we might ignorantly assume are against type, but it could also acknowledge the youthful energy some of these actors and plenty of people in the world take into their adulthoods that shape their life. A kindergarten teacher is a prime example of job that attracts that kind of person!

I could not have imagined a character that used Perth’s disposition, simultaneously aloof and warm, so well. A teacher too-cool-for-school with no passion except for his partner? There’s our aloof guitar playing boy. Who must learn to roll with the punches of life and laugh at how ridiculous and precious it is? And there’s our warm cuddly teddybear.

The chemistry between the two in the trailer was eye-opening, too. They appeared spontaneous and familiar with one another, easily conveying live-in boyfriends in love. Even most of the naysayers for the show, admitted their initial excitement for the pairing’s intimacy. If the show plays well, it ought to be breakout success for both of them.

Give me ALL the Sammy. Everyday. Girl has been shining since BL day one (the og Love Sick, baby)!

The colors! This show looks lovely and lively. The primary school wall decorations. The costumes. The face paint in the trailer is so cute! Sammy’s hair color is genius! It just has so much vibrancy during a presentation when multiple dark, brooding shows were announced.

Director P’Dome has earned my trust. Peaceful Property was quirky, intricately plotted, and endlessly compassionate. I was crying almost every weak! I’m not surprised in the slightest to see him with a show like this. The premise of Love You Teacher is a bit out there, a bit provocative, and has the potential to have such a huge heart. The closest comparison tonally in GMMTV’s history I’ve seen so far is with the work TayNew did right before PP, Cherry Magic! Let me tell you about the boxes of tissues my happy tears went through for that series!

Basically, Imma be fighting tooth and nail for this show until it actually offers a reason for me to not support it. With what we received in the trailer, Love You Teacher has revealed only green flags, gold star stickers, and A pluses!

[zenonaa]

idk if anyone has noticed the number of tofu fics (or fics in general) that i write/post has gone down in the past few years, but i want to kind of talk about that. i love togafuka. i love writing. my love for them has not diminished.

in early 2022, my mother was hospitalised and soon diagnosed with cancer. she came to live with me for the next 5-6 months during her chemo treatment and such. as well as helping look after her (and seeing her ups and downs) i was working a full-time job and looking after my younger brother a lot who is autistic and epileptic (the latter was diagnosed this year). my father worked and helped how he could, my sister helped my mum a lot but my sister and younger brother were in their early twenties at the time so i felt like a lot of the responsibility fell on me.

i appreciate the time i spent with my mother in that time, i would not change that, but it was very traumatic for me. my relationship with her wasn't always the best growing up, and i think she had mental issues that she refused to get help for that caused a lot of it (and i was a troubled kid too, well-behaved but depressed/socially anxious. also prob have autism). everyday i would see my mother get stronger, or weaker. i remember one night, my brother woke up crying (mum was in my bed, i was downstairs on a sofa bed and bro was on a beanbag bed) saying he was scared she'd never get better. i had to comfort him and support him a lot, all the while trying to be optimistic and keep myself together.

she was meant to have surgery to try to remove the cancer in october 2022, but it was cancelled due to her thyroid. in early december 2022, she went to have fluids drained and i went too. a nurse told her in front of me how they wouldn't resuscitate her which wasn't... great. anyway, she had to be moved to the hospital because she wasn't draining, and a bit before christmas, she told us that she was terminal. on my last visit to her (23rd), i forced myself not to cry and as i left, i said i loved her and i'd see her on xmas.

on xmas day, she passed away. the hospital had lost our phone number, so we found out when a friend who had been with her phoned us. can't describe how surreal that day was. she was supposed to come home after the hospital stay. she told me to make her bed at home. we were going to visit her on xmas. she was going to have chemo again in january. who's going to eat all her favourite foods in my fridge? what do i do with this walking stick? her clothes? her medications? how could i have saved her? why didn't i realise she was sick and get her checked out earlier? why couldn't i have been a better daughter? why must the radio sing christmas songs about this being the most wonderful time of the year, why must people get excited for this one day when my mother died? then i had to help with the funeral, choosing her flowers, choosing what she was going to wear when she was cremated. she won't see me get married (assuming i do) or her first grandchild. it's... a lot to process.

i've had other life events happen after this. i broke up with my ex after 7 years. i was ousted from my job and got a new one. i've resumed driving lessons, even managed to get the same instructor my mother found me 10 years ago when i first tried driving and stopped. so yeah. busy.

also i have been working on a novel. my mother when she was still alive was my biggest fan, she would sit with me and we'd go through editing together. my novel has changed a lot since she was alive, as my writing has improved etc. i've recently been considering self-publishing it. which is daunting because i have the charisma of a potato but i believe in this novel and most importantly my mother believed in it, even in its early stages. but that costs money - i should be getting a pay rise from work soon, but i might open writing commissions again to help fund this as it's not cheap lmao.

soooo my fic writing has gone down because i'm usually exhausted, busy with work and irl stuff, and still recovering mentally from life events. i still need to write my last tofu week fic, which will either be a mastermind au or little sequel story to elusive/mermaid au.

i don't really talk about my personal life here, but even if no one reads this, it was therapeutic to write at least haha.

[amyintherapy]

Invalidating your own trauma

A "nugget" from a recent therapy session that I keep coming back to...

My therapist said that a good way to look at your own trauma is through the lens of someone who didn't experience it that way. Because our childhood trauma is normal to us, as it's often all we knew as kids as we're often in cultural bubbles. So our friends, cousins, etc often have similar childhoods to our own, so it can feel like that's what almost the whole world is like. But it's not, of course. They said that when someone had a mom that drank everyday, they often will feel like 'everyones' mom drank too often/too much. And they can point to things like how you can walk into retail stores and find baby onesies that say "I'm the reason mommy needs wine." to show that it is "normal" to drink all the time. So they might feel like having a mother with a drinking problem is something they shouldn't have trauma over. But to me, someone who had a mom who almost never drank, and who I have literally never seen drunk even once - it's SO understandable to me that having your mom rely on drinking as a coping method, or worse - be an outright drunk, could be scary and damaging. They are going to lack emotional presence, you may not feel like they are 'in control' in the ways they should be, you might be afraid of them, you might feel like you have to step up to take care of things when they're drinking. You are likely to think its normal/healthy to use alcohol do deal with big feelings rather than learning healthier methods. Of course that's traumatic! And for me..."normal" is having a parent who doesn't ever connect with you on a deep emotional level, who regularly is frustrated with you for needing anything from them, it's feeling emotionally alone your whole childhood, not going to anyone as a child when bad things happened to you because you knew the support wasn't there. It's being desperate to be 'good' and a severe people pleaser yet still routinely getting yelled at and otherwise punished for making age-appropriate, human mistakes despite trying your best. It's having to shut down your feelings regularly as you weren't allowed to be angry, hurt or sad in most cases but especially cases that involved your parents' behavior, and being ignored or rejected on the few instances where you were so desperate as to ask for help. It's walking on eggshells to try to avoid angering the adults in your lives because if they got upset, you couldn't feel safe. I have no idea how common it is. But there are people who grew up with parents who they could go to when they had a problem with a friend at school. Or when they were scared of the dark. Or when they were sexually abused. Or when they started their period for the first time. There are children who grow up being taught how to feel their feelings not shut them down or avoid them. Who don't think twice about taking up space, because they've never had routine experiences that taught them that they needed to be 'small' to be safe. And those people would see my idea of 'normal' childhood and go gosh, of course that is damaging! Maybe even 'I can't imagine having been a child and not feeling like I could turn to my parents when I was scared/hurt/upset! That's wild!" rather than be like me and think 'that's just how it is, I shouldn't be hurt by this.'

[concerningwolves]

hello! i have question for you if you don’t mind me asking:

one part of my story focuses on a blind-from-birth friend (let’s call them A) struggling with not being overprotective of their friend (let’s call them B) who has very recently gained deafness.

would it be inappropriate or insensitive for B, in their confrontation, to compare their conditions? as in, if A could make it through life as successfully as they have, what’s to say B can’t adapt and succeed too even if it’s not the same condition?

Ohh, this sounds like a very interesting and crunchy dynamic!

I think this is one of those occasions where, yes, what your character is saying could be insensitive, but it's said as a result of a very reasonable conflict. The way I look at it is this: Your character(s) can say and do things that are insensitive if it's true to their characterisation and/or makes narrative/thematic sense. What's important is that you as the writer can recognise when something is insensitive/offensive/incorrect, and handle the issue respectfully in the wider story.

So, there are two issues with B's comment about "adapting and succeeding":

It doesn't acknowledge the nuance in disabled people's experiences, which could feed into the stereotype that all disability exists as a monolith (usually a monolith of suffering).

It doesn't account for any potential struggles or difficulties that A has experienced – or, more crucially, still experiences – because of their blindness. This skews close to the "Inspirationally Disadvantaged" trope, wherein a disabled character is treated as heroic for doing something everyday ordinary. (See also: inspiration porn)

It's a sad reality that if B wasn't otherwise disabled before gaining deafness, they were probably ableist. I don't mean "hateful bigot" degree ableism – more the insidious, everyday type of ableism that seeps into us because of social beliefs. In that context, a comment like B's is understandable. You see it all the time both in fiction and real life: people become disabled or chronically ill, and both they and those around them immediately treat the new situation as something that needs to be "fixed" or overcome.

While becoming disabled is a life-altering circumstance which may carry its own trauma or grief (even if not caused by a more "typically" traumatic event!), it's not a tragic condition that has to be overcome. It's a new way of living. There will be new problems to deal with though, ranging from The Symptoms to internalised, social and systemic ableism, and it's important not to shy away from or gloss over these. In B's case, they're going to learn to live without a sense that they probably never realised was quite so important to them. I've always been deaf, so I really recommend finding accounts from people who became deaf later in life to get a deeper understanding of this perspective.

When handling A and B's disabilities in the wider narrative, think about the two issues I raised above and see if they're present at all. Some questions to help you assess your narrative as a whole are:

Are you painting A and B with the same brush? – by which I mean, have you done research into blindness and deafness separately, and reflected differences in the culture and beliefs associated with them in the narrative?

↪ (Disabled communities often have a culture built up around them, with facets like humour, shared experiences, and language and other communication systems. I always wholeheartedly suggest looking into these and incorporating them into stories!)

Does A ever encounter any issues related to their blindness, or do they somehow manage to ""overcome"" everything? – think about what accessibility aids they use, what barriers they face, and how they navigate the world as a blind person. If you've not checked them out already, blindbeta has an incredible blog for portraying blind and low vision characters.

↪ (Even in an ableism-free 100% accessibility-focused society, most disabilities are still going to be, y'know, disabling in some way. The core question to ask yourself is how does my character's disability/condition affect them on a day-to-day level?)

Have you included disabled joy as well as disabled struggles? – there are often positive aspects to disability! Sometimes it's as simple as "this is how I experience the world and I'm okay with that"; sometimes it's "my disability means [X] and I'm proud of that"; other times it's "this is what I've learned from living with [disability] and I value that". There's a lot of variety in opinion and you won't be able to please or represent everyone, but it's infinitely worth looking into and including as much as you can.

I hope this helps. Please feel free to ask if you need anything clarified, and good luck with your story!

[sunsetsandrivers]

The current state of affairs within the society!

I complained against the aforementioned couple living downstairs right under my home on the UPCOP application for the third time last night when I found them torturing me mentally through windows and walls again by taking advantage of me being alone and without my family or friends (god forbid I talk to anyone I care about and they make my life miserable over it like they have in the past). They dictate my thoughts out loud to each other to make themselves believe that I'm absolutely harmless and not a threat to their existence when my entire question is when I've ever made them feel like this is a thing with them? Everytime I go to the washroom they begin harassing me as though my potential is only limited to the chemicals that my brain releases and body disposes and that it has absolutely no meaning to my family, friends, me myself or even others. As if I enjoy it so much that this is my sole purpose and they're debilitating my existence and pushing me to such a corner that I'm becoming so dependent on this gradually that if I don't have it twenty years down the line, I'll be good for nothing. They ensure nobody talks to me, I can't study or sing or practice my instrument or watch anything on my laptop, I get no work and I can't apply my brain outside the realms of their existence and when it's not about them they set out to make me feel miserable and shame me again by consciously showing others in the neighbourhood how my parents birthed me and I'm carrying the helpless physical potential to birth another only for them. So naturally I complained against them for the third time in a row and even tried calling them via the NoBrokerhood App to avail no real response and overheard them discussing the diffusing tension of that with each other thereafter. I'm writing this because all their efforts to get to me are rendered futile 24×7 and the thought of me feeling for or caring about my future parents-in-law who I would like to build a very homely and genuine relationship with my own parents with (keeping aside my future partner) doesn't allow me to take all that so lightly and tread carefully. It's been driving me crazy for months at end now and I've been trying to take it in my stride everyday despite all odds at work or anywhere else. I'm taking medicines for Anxiety/Depression and ADHD and am hopelessly trying to take my family's support to get better. I'm even taking therapy for the same. But the downstairs neighbours or others around keep getting over-excited at the prospect of being able to provoke an ugly reaction out of me for their behaviours that they leave no stone unturned to gaslight me over. I feel robbed of all my happiness and emotions but have struggled to find my ground and purpose through it all again so that I can continue working on myself but everytime I do anything, they render my existence futile and useless beyond them. What scares me the most is that I might have started believing them a little over the last few months somewhere in my soul and I know that they know that that's not true and they only show those loud reactions to my life in order for me to retaliate in an "i dont give a flying fuck or damn" manner so that they can continue to do whatever the heck they think they're doing.

I have had enough of people talking about themselves for months at end in the pretext of my aunt too who has a stronger mental health condition than me because my presence/mind triggers them so. She has had an incredibly traumatic and difficult life as it is and it has been such a struggle trying to not have to prove myself over the last decade and not allow myself to function with an inflated ego over the years that I feel like it's been the only fruitful result of my prior educational experiences and recent hardwork.

It's inhumane.

[magpie1oh1]

Where Is My Mind...

Where to begin...

I normally write privately in my physical journal, but recently, it has become more and more difficult to hold a pen with a steady hand. I love writing, but to satisfy my busy mind and quiet the silent screams that take place in my brain and body everyday, I need the writing to go a little faster. I need to get the noise out of my head and onto the digital page. I'm writing for myself. I don't want to explain my thoughts, my trauma or the dark passenger that dwells deep within me, waiting patiently for the breakthrough.

I have to write. My mind is racing today. Running on no sleep. That would be many thanks to the adderall I devoured earlier. It's my first day off in over a week and I've been craving some mental stimulation. Some intellectual intercourse. My tank is on E. My brain is beginning to atrophy. I feel so self important. A huge yuck to the people around me. I don't believe I'm being my authentic self. I have this shit fuck superiority complex that creeps up once in a while. I find myself looking at the very few friends I do have and I feel nothing. I want to feel something. I'm forcing myself to feel through these friendships, but I feel stagnant in them. 

I'm a body of water in a confined space. No current. No flow. I desperately want to move, to flood, to pour. I want to storm, but instead it's quiet. I don't find the people around me interesting or stimulating and faking my way through conversations and exhausting myself on a daily basis with the fake laughter and constantly having to be "on" is mentally exhausting and it's making me resentful. I want so desperately for someone else to pick up the slack. Allow me to power down. I'm craving a steady flow of conversation that doesn't involve work. I am not without force or vitality. I can feel it boiling inside of me, but there is no outlet. 

I value my friendships and I love them dearly and would do absolutely anything to make their lives easier and more fluid, but I am being held back. There has been no upward growth. I'm desperately trying to make my way out of the fisherman's net, but I'm constantly being pulled back in. Deeper and deeper. Not to put too fine a point on it, but I don't have much in common with them. I'm masking. My interactions with them are carefully crafted to meet each person's specific needs required for the friendship. I have just enough in common with each of them to sustain the relationship and I don't want to lose them. They matter to me, but I haven't found my equal, my counterpart, in either person. 

I have always been the soundboard in my friendships. People feel safe with me and they should feel safe. I create the space needed for each individual person in my life. Whatever their specific needs may be, I make sure they're met. I am able to relate to the sordid details of their lives without flinching or becoming uncomfortable. My childhood was filled with chaos and varying traumatic experiences, so, I'm more than just a little understanding of the fact that people's lives have static. I don't mind static.

I am the safety net, the soundboard, the comedic relief and should low tide begin to affect the flow of the conversation, I am the gravitational pull that brings it right back. At the end of the day, I am worn out and mentally exhausted. I have to self-isolate for hours to recharge my batteries and I feel like I've been fed on by a pack of energy vampires. Drained. Eaten alive. Nothing left of me or for me. 

I know how I sound. I feel all kinds of ick about myself, but I can't deny that this is how I feel and how I view my relationships with people. I'm carefully curated to fit certain needs for certain people. I have always been this way. I am not attempting to be anyone I'm not. I am simply giving others the leg room necessary to stretch and get comfortable. 

I have had very few people in my life that allowed me the luxury to just BE. I didn't have to entertain. I didn't have to perform. I was just a piece of furniture in their lives and it was wonderful. I could sit in silence, dissociate, converse, retrieve my peace and silence my thoughts because it wasn't necessary to have any. I didn't have to think or be clever or quick. I had only myself to fuel and care for. I haven't had that stillness and peace in a long time. 

I know other people must feel this way. Somewhere they're having all the same mundane conversations with people they love and care about. Muting the best parts of themselves just to give a little peace to someone else. Is it wrong? Are we ever one hundred percent ourselves? Who do we feel safest with? Where do we go to quiet the storm?

[lord-radish]

I just reblogged a post about PTSD, and it gave a lot of examples of PTSD criteria that are often overlooked that really resonated with me.

I'm gonna go over the former best friend stuff. Right away I'm gonna say I'm pretty sure things are gonna go back way before any of that other stuff happened, but the former best friend stuff is the most recent and the most raw.

---

The criteria I'm using are on an Australian governmental website called Healthline. I'll be posting the criteria and discussing its applicability to the situation. I'm also going to read a webpage for an Australian mental health organisation called Beyond Blue.

Symptoms of PTSD, according to Healthline:

re-experiencing the trauma

I don't think about the actual event all that much, where I realised my friend had gotten with a girl I had been hung up on for about a year. It was less "why doesn't she love me", because she had let me down easy and was seeing other people and I was moving on, and more "how could my friend have done this to me", because I had confided in him about the crush for the entire time I had it and I was already having inadequacy issues with him and severe self-confidence issues.

The initial trauma, where I realised what was going on and blew up at my friend, is embarrassing but not something I revisit very often. What gets me is the thought that he's going to try and come back into my life, or I'm going to be trapped in a room or a conversation with him, or people are going to expect me to be around him and like pressure me to forgive him. It's the thought of going back, or being forced into a stressful situation, that gets me.

repetitive memories (or flashbacks) that are hard to control and intrude into everyday life

The recurring memories that get me are related to the moment where I realised I wouldn't be trying to go back to the friend group any more. It's the entire chain of reasoning that led to me leaving for good.

It's a laundry list of things he did that I didn't like and actively made me uncomfortable or upset, but which he did anyway because he thought it was funny. The first day we hung out outside of school, we went to the pool with another friend. They both got out, and when I went to get out, they started tredding on my hands and arms so I couldn't. I swam to the other side, but they'd beat me over there and keep stepping on me.

What struck me about remembering that in the wake of the girl thing is that it formed the foundation of our friendship, and going forward he would do things just like that - things that he would do to me that I didn't like, but which he did anyway because he thought it was funny. That was the foundation our entire friendship was built on. It was there from the start.

nightmares

Nightmares have always been few and far between for me, thank god. I don't have nightmares.

extreme distress caused by reminders of the trauma

At one point, I would start hyperventilating and crying whenever something happened that would reopen the wound. There have been times since I started working that this has almost happened at work. I'm always in flight mode when I'm in public, especially when I'm around where he works, and even more so when it's the time of the day I've seen him around and run into him after work. I'll have one of those one-sided mental conversations when I'm in bed or at work, and I'll need to let it play out and go over my rebuttals because otherwise it's just the thought of someone trying to force their way back into my life.

memories or disturbing thoughts that can be prompted by smells, sounds, words or other triggers

I have a hard time whenever I see his name, or the name of his girlfriend. I need to rush past it and forget I ever saw it. Both names are fairly common too.

---

The next set of criteria deal with avoidance.

staying away from places, people or objects that may trigger memories of the traumatic event

My former best friend used to work at a shop on the main street of my town. My main street is made up of three blocks, with his place of work being down the end of town we both live close to.

For the first year after the falling out, I wouldn't walk on that block of the main street. There's a second road that goes the same way, but it isn't as paved or well maintained as the main street. Whenever I was walking down the street, I would take that less well-maintained road to avoid potentially running into him. I did that for over a year, and I only stopped because I found out - tangentially, from seeing his new uniform after running into him - that he doesn't work there any more.

I did a similar thing with his home, talking a less convenient path to stay as far away from where he lived as possible. He lives *behind my mum* now, so I'm trying to stop washing my clothes at her house despite not having a washing machine in my flat because I can hear them across the fence.

I also left all of our mutual friends to get away from him. All of them. They're all his. I also close my eyes whenever I'm travelling by the place where the initial fallout happened so I don't have to look at it.

changing a normal routine to avoid triggering memories

Just discussed that in the previous entry. This one very much applies.

not wanting to talk about or think about the event

Outside of the councillor I've had since 2021, a friend I made and my mum, I haven't told anyone about what happened and why there was a fallout between me and my former best friend. A big reason why is because this isn't a "good guy vs bad guy" thing, and while I'm clearly very hurt and fucked up about it, I don't want to color people's perception of him.

If they like him and want to be his friend, they should be able to like him and be his friend. It's not like I'm The Good Guy and he's The Bad Guy, it was an ugly set of circumstances that I reacted very poorly to that forced a personal schism between us. I would talk about it with someone close enough to me because it's cathartic, but I have valid reasons to keep it to myself. All people need to know is that I can't be around him.

Now, thinking about the event - that's something I don't want to do. If I'm talking about it, I'm breaking it down and thinking about the mechanics of it and rationalising it. It's a process I can work through. Thinking about it, on its own, just hurts to do.

I think that's why I have those mental conversations, because I need to always be working through it and breaking it down. That's a fresh hell in itself, because I've been repeating the same points to myself for almost two years. I think of it, I have the mental conversation, however long it takes is a write-off. That's one reason I don't want to think of it.

feeling numb

I've felt numb about a lot of things for years before this was an issue, because I was severely bullied all through school. This event caused some numbness, but most of it is from that prior bullying.

---

These criteria regard negative thoughts and mood.

feeling a sense of hopelessness about the future

Not specific to the best friend stuff. This one stems from over twelve years of bullying, and is aggravating by living in a stressful home environment for most of my life and having such a strained relationship with my friends post-school. The best friend thing is whatever - the end of that friendship isn't going to kill me. The potential to find better friends is endless.

But I struggle to believe I'm ever going to fit in with a crowd that I jive with and which wants me, which has been a persistent feeling ever since primary (elementary) school. I felt that way before I met my former best friend, and I feel it now.

negative beliefs about yourself or the world

Again, moreso due to the bullying that occured before/during the time I made friends in high school. There is something wrong with me compared to other people, and there always has been - there's a tangible difference that puts me at a disadvantage. I have a very negative opinion on anti-bullying tactics and legislature like zero-tolerance policies, because it could be weaponised by bullies in ways that got their victims in trouble. On a good day I'm an optimistic atheist, on a bad day I'm a pessimistic agnostic.

blaming yourself or others unreasonably

I treat the former best friend stuff as a "both sides" issue. I feel bad because I was very emotionally ugly, and this led to me lashing out and being a very angry and spiteful person towards him. In the long run, this was to protect my own feelings and be able to live with myself in the long run, and I have to live with that.

And while I'm indescribably angry at him to this day, the actual decision between him and his girlfriend is both a positive development for both of them and a perfectly reasonable decision between two consenting adults. So like I said, both sides have a point.

I hold a lot of animosity towards my former best friend, and I will never let him get close to me again. I'm also angry at myself for my role in it all. I can recognise the good in it all, but it doesn't make the anger and hate any more palatable.

intense worry, depression, anger or guilt

I've covered anger and guilt in previous entries. Adding onto that: when this was still fresh, my emotional state was changing every day. I felt the full gamut of human emotion in the span of a week. A few months in, I had my first and only anxiety attack because I felt like I was running out of time to mend the bridges I thought I needed to mend.

I was immensely depressed - I didn't know what to do. I lost all my friends for the duration I was gone, and when I left for good, I lost all those friends forever. I felt guilty for the effect my acrimonious exit must have had on people in that group. Even today, it makes me feel angry and guilty, and I worry about the possibility of people trying to force their way into my life. Worry, depression, anger and guilt is most of my life.

not being able to remember the traumatic event

I can remember the traumatic event just fine. I remember the moment I put it all together, I remember lashing out at my friend. I remember the spiral I went into after I stormed out, and I remember the Saturday where I saw him for the first time since and he told me what had been going on.

What I don't remember is most of our friendship before that point.

I remember some good parts, and I remember a lot of the bad. I've blocked everything else out of my memory.

no longer enjoying favourite activities

This is another all-encompassing one with roots in being bullied. I find it hard to play online co-op games with other people, though I play a lot of games we used to play by myself. I've avoided a lot of movies, TV and music due to general shittiness stemming from being bullied, I have to find something that really engages me before I commit to any media.

becoming emotionally detached from others

This is the big one - again, not exclusive to the friend stuff.

I've never been good at making friends, and I stopped actively trying back in primary school. I made friends at the end of high school because I made an effort to befriend people I wanted to be around, but that's how I ended up with my former best friend.

I've never been good at talking to people unless they're more of a conversation starter. Nowadays, I don't even try. Partially because I feel poorly about myself, but thanks to the former best friend stuff, I'm also afraid of being hurt and getting excluded from places when things go poorly.

not being able to experience positive emotions

Again, not exclusive to the former best friend stuff. It's hard to find joy in anything, because I learned to feel judged and criticized at an early age. I stopped getting my hopes up that things would get better. After the friend group fallout, there were weeks where I felt like I would never be happy again unless I found a way to go back to that friend group, and things were endlessly bleak.

Even now, with the job I have, I've resigned myself to a long, arduous existence of working with outdated machinery instead of holding out hope for better equipment coming down the line. It's better to expect the bare minimum and - more often than not - getting it, than to wish for the moon and getting nothing in return.

---

These criteria regard increased arousal.

constant, excessive alertness

I mentioned this before - I'm always on the lookout for a flash of green or a person who looks like my former best friend so I can go the other way and avoid it. I'm always "on". I'm always thinking about places to hide or how to escape.

scanning the environment for signs of danger

See previous entry. Short answer, yes.

being easily startled

More of a general symptom. I've always been easily startled. My former best friend would startle me and play on my insecurities and fears to get a reaction out of me, because he thought it was funny.

irritable or aggressive behaviour

When I was bullied, I came out the other side trying to be as polite and inoffensive to the senses as I could be. I had intense anger and sadness for a long time, and I did lash out for a brief period in early high school, but I grew into a more kind, measured person.

When the former best friend stuff happened, the way I would phrase it is that I "became a person I didn't want to be". I'm outwardly angry now. I'm always ready to be rude and shout at my former best friend if it comes to that, and I will do so with impunity if I'm ever cornered. I still try to be measured and calm, but I stew and mutter and have a hard time regulating my emotions now.

difficulty sleeping

poor concentration

Both of these are moreso bullying-related issues that have stayed with me for most of my life than anything to do with my former best friend.

[acey-waceyy123]

Alright, deep breath… I don’t know how long you’re willing to sit and listen but this is gonna be LONGGGG, mkay? So anyway, actually only three of them are ROTTMNT ocs and Ace is a 2012 oc. Two of these are pretty old and two of these are recent and my beloved children I love them so much oh my fucking god

Ace

I’ll do the guy you came for first. Ace is a 2012 oc like I said earlier, and he’s like 12 y/o in most things I depict him in. Ace was a normal human at one point I’ll explain that just hold on. Basically Karai found this random baby on the road and was like “OH GEE WILIKERS FREE BROTHER! And took him home to shredder. She was about four at this time. Shredder really didn’t wanna take care of this stupid kid but did so for his daughter. And this led to what we call.. ✨favoritism✨ shredder decided he may as well make Ace worth something so he decided he’d train him into the “perfect ninja” (aka training him until he passes out and abusing him him or threatening him when he failed). Karai and Ace do have a good relationship tho :3 by the time Ace was twelve shredder had been fighting the turtles and stuff already and he finds out about mutagen. So he does a little test run! He grabs Ace while the kid is sleeping and dunks him into a mutagen tank. Yeah, not too nice for Ace. Anyway, other than that, he’s manipulated into believing the tmnt are evil and whatnot, blah blah, fight fight, and then the second kraang invasion happens. Being a twelve year old amidst the chaos of an alien invasion, he didn’t know what to do until he saw the turtles driving off to Northampton, so he followed them since he had nowhere else to go. For the three months Leo was in a coma, Ace lived in the forest practicing his archery or hunting for food. One day after Leo’s coma he was taking a walk in the woods when BAM!! Ace comes in with a blade to his throat! Somehow after some talking Leo convinced him to stay with them and kinda just realized he was just a misguided and traumatized kid. Eventually he became friends with the turtles and he lived with them until Karai remade the foot clan in s4 so he joined his sister.

Bennu

This is the little doggy guy! He’s not in the same universe as my other rise ocs due to overlapping cannons. I think I can make this one quick. He’s raised by big mama, sheltered, popular bc he’s the champ, has no friends, is manipulated by big mama, befriends tmnt, BOOM!

He’s really childish and friendly and nice. He has PTSD and trauma from all the lives he was forced to take.. he feels like a monster.

Zac

Oh boy this is DEFINITELY a long one. He’s my hyperfixation right now and has 18 (maybe soon to be 19/20) AUS and his story and character is HEAVILY dependent on my friends’ ocs who I made him together with but they don’t really talk to me anymore for some reason so I’ll be using the version of their ocs they left me with. If you guys see this, hi!! I miss you :3 but anyway I’ll be talking about Main Zac for now. Zac grew up with his sister, Emmie, in my own fan made version of a district in the hidden city called Swamp City that’s basically full of criminals and psychos that the police dump there because Draxum made him and his sister after the main turtles but left them there to die after quickly realized parenting is a ton of work. Zac grew up around constant violence and being beat up almost everyday, having to steal to survive. He is dedicated to protect his sister and wants to get stronger and stronger so he never feels pathetic again, and so he feels like he can fight back unlike when he was a kid. Violence ended up being normalized in his head and he committed crimes and murder all for fun, getting genuine pleasure and joy from watching the life fade from someone’s eyes. He also has unnatural strength and teeth sharp as knives because Draxum might’ve messed with a few genes. He escaped swamp city early on in the series after one of Leo’s portals messed up and brought him and Emmie to the surface. He ended up dating Leo (GAY🤮 /j). He made friends, Mel, Nora, and Zivi, and so many more shenanigans happen along with him getting ninpo that give him super strength and increases his defense. (Though, it can be fatal if abused too much or if used to a large extent.) also he has autism and adhd :3

He’s really reckless and can be pretty rude, literally a psychopathic murderer, doesn’t care about anyone other than his loved ones, is actually silly once you get to know him, childish, and his special interest is skibidi toilet :3 I really tried to keep this short and sweet THERE IS SO MUCH MORE TO HIM AND SO MANY AUS but those are for another day, my dear friends.

Asher

The kraang?! KILL IT!

But seriously, ash isn’t exactly loved for being a kraang. He’s Zac’s child in the future apocalypse. Zac in the future is married to Leo, who finds a little baby outside of a kraang base…

Long story short, that baby is a shape shifting kraang experiment who is now under the care of Leo and Zac. They keep him inside mostly in fear of the kraang finding him and hurting him or kidnapping him or whatever kraang stuff. But Ash would rather be inside. He distracts himself with comics and cartoons and all his toys, not wanting to think about the war and destruction beyond his walls. He kinda hates himself for being a kraang too. Ash clings VERY tight to his childhood, acting like an 8 year old when he’s 12. It’s how he copes, it’s a way to distract himself. When ash was seven, Zac got infected by the kraang and went on a RAMPAGE, he ended up killing his niece and nephew indirectly and ripped off half of his son’s face. The kraang in Zac realized it was their experiment and sent a kraang to capture ash right after Zac’s coma. Oh yeah, Zac was in a coma. Remember when I said too much ninpo can be fatal? Well, the kraang used a lot and he was out for three days. He also lost his arm and eyeball after Mikey had to burn off the infection with mystic fire to save him. Rescue mission is a go and they save ash! Things go as they do in the movie and having both of his dads dead and being plopped in the past isn’t the best for Asher. And he dies by kraang raph.

There is an au where he survives though! That’s it.

Thanks for staying for my ramble if you made it this far!!!! (Zac is the favorite child if you couldn’t tell.)

REFS:

Can u please tell me about your rottmnt ocs from that post? If you're up to it I'd love to hear some character rambling :3

HAHAHHAHAHHAHAB FUCKING GLADLY OH GOD YOY HAVE NO FUCKING IDEA WHYA YOU GOTTEN YOURSLEF INTOZ HAHA AUAGBANEUAYAHHAHAGGbanahahaggagagHhhahHHAHAHAHHAGAGAGAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAH

I will respond in a reblog! Just give me a moment to calm the fuck downABAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHA

[blackrosesandwhump]

Uncommon Whump Tropes

I compiled the answers to my recent uncommon whump trope question into a list for everyone's reference. Enjoy!

CW: very brief mentions of teeth whump, minor whump, female whumpees, noncon body modification

Feral hissy kitten whumpees, the bitey scratchy ones who scream incoherently at their rescuer/caretaker rather than use their talking words. The ones who can’t be made to understand they’re not going to be hurt anymore

Medieval fantasy dungeon/torture chambers

Female whumpee and platonic male caretaker

When person 1 passes something to person 2, via kiss or other pda, to help P2 escape somewhere, especially if there had been some kind of prior misunderstanding between them

Good old-fashioned chloroforming

Mind control and mind control-adjacent tropes like hypnosis

Whumpers who are subtlety scary

Childhood trauma/minor whump

Whipping

Teeth whump

Older whumpees

Whumpees who aren't conventionally attractive

Non-“innocent sweetie” whumpees: bastards, confused himbos, feral ladies, baffled aristocrats, tormented monsters, traumatized immortals, frightened Everyday Gals who react by throwing things and yelling, questionable antiheroes

Whumpees who turn bitter. Whumpees who are angry and complicated. Recoveries that are tough. Caretakers that don’t know what to do because a little nice touch and sweet words aren’t enough

Captive whumpees that slowly manipulate the situation they're in, gaining enough favor and trust with the whumper till it's the right moment for the tables to be turned and whumpee can get their revenge

Snakes used on the whumpee

Female whumpees

Small whumpers

Whumpers that aren't the physically stronger ones

Whumpees who aren't honorable, who lie and scheme and cheat their way out of their bad situation

Whumpees who aren't defiant, because they're smart enough to know all that defiance will get them is more pain. They aren't stoic because they know the whumper wants to hear them begging and crying

Manipulative whumpees. They bend, pretending to break, until their whumper gives them an opening

Villain whumpers who aren’t interested in captivity. They just love to antagonize the hero, do they care about stealing or blowing up the city, no not that much. But they love getting on hero’s nerves and beating them and mentally dragging them down until they can hardly do it anymore, and then just moving onto a new hero when it gets to boring for them

Androids, or human whumpees inside mech suits that get ripped to shreds during a fight so that the circuitry is exposed

Average whumpees, whumpees who aren’t super muscular and have more realistic proportions, whether they are large, medium, or small

Caretaker with some sort of trauma already in their past, and they’re desperate to protect whumpee, who’s probably someone older.  The caretaker— having been scarred and trying to grasp at any bonds they have made as comfort— takes care of the person who should probably be taking care of them, and then, when the whumper comes in and does what they know best, the caretaker goes ballistic. They do unexpected, dangerous things to themselves behind whumpee’s back. They get themselves so deep in their deals with whumper just to be able to get whumpee out, because caretaker would inflict pain on an entire continent before letting whumpee go. And when the whumpee’s out, caretaker is too far in to turn back now… maybe they’ll force the whumpee back, they’ll be safer with them anyways…

Monster whump. More claws, wings, fur, long ears, tails

More queerplatonic Whumpee/Caretaker relationships

Female whump (that isn't non-con). Ladies can break their arms and get kicked in the gut too

Being conditioned into submission and having trouble shaking it, i.e. even days after the shock collar has been removed they still almost never speak unless spoken to

Human experimentation

Unique stress positions, especially ones where the pain builds up over time

Noncon body modification, but more extreme than piercings & tattoos, e.g. wings/ears/tails/etc, or cybernetic things

Sci-fi themed whump that's not about androids

Whump involving timelines, time loops, alternate universes and other stuff like that

Physical signs of whump for supernatural whump that aren’t scars or lost body parts, like changed eye colors or new appendages or like marks on your soul

Forced mind control self-whump while the caretaker watches but doesn't know they're under mind control, or even a non-consensual situation because it's just barely mild-looking enough until the caretaker leaves because they really thought they were doing the right thing by trying to step in but they were told they were just interrupting and now they feel bad. And the whumpee has no idea what’s going on but when they come to and are being weakly willful to the whumper but they are informed that the caretaker saw and didn’t care, breaking the last part of the whumpee’s will that was barely holding out

More accidental trauma reveal

Lab whump

Lady whump (and lab lady whump)

Feral whumpees

Spitting blood

That trope where the group has to explore their loved one’s mindscape to save them and secret trauma is revealed in their memories

Being presented with a fear that is wholly mind numbing and the annoying character not poking fun at the one that's scare

“Phantom pain” but not in the traditional amputee sense, e.g. whumpee’s arm gets cut off in a corrupted video game and he still feels the pain of it IRL despite his real-life arm being intact…or alternative forms perhaps being: sharing a soul with someone and feeling the pain that they feel, characters with past lives feeling old injuries from their predecessors, or a mecha story where damage done to the mech is felt by its pilot

The plot allowing enough time for a newly disfigured character to process and grieve over their new appearance, e.g. Spiderman 3; the worst/best part is Peter did this to him, which adds that best-friends-do-permanent-damage-to-each-other-but-they-remain-good-friends layer. They could overcome that sense of betrayal, even if Harry ended up dying

Character getting kidnapped while sick

Teams saving someone from hypothermia

Colleagues as caretakers

Seizure aftercare

Dehydration after a long spell somewhere hot, like working hard outside, and whumpee doesn’t feel the heat exhaustion and dehydration creep up on them, which can lead to a fever

General extremes of heat, when someone pushes their own body to the limit and doesn’t realize until it’s too late, and their coworkers and friends have to pick up the pieces, leading to some pretty difficult conversations about looking after yourself and listening to your own needs

Whumpee leaves or disappears and after some time is found again with a big injury by caretaker with no context

Brainwashed Whumpee randomly switching between their brainwashed personality and their original one. Top tier: the original is stoic and grouchy but the brainwashed is either really goofy or lovey-dovey - and their loved ones go from finding this funny, to finding it unsettling because the original personality is reacting to it with terror

Shapeshifting whumpers. Whumpers that can effortlessly infiltrate and adapt to whumpees' friend circle even before (or after) whump. Whumpers that shapeshift into whumpee's loved ones during whump. Whumpers that basically catfish whumpee by turning into multiple different people and all "befriending" Whumpee, just to see the look on whumpee's face after the "I have friends who will find me" moment

Older pet whumpees, e.g. pets on the verge of being put down or past their prime time of use being berated for being so slow and weak and useless. Pets knowing they’re on borrowed time and knowing that their master is so merciful as to keep their worthless ass alive

Impalement through the neck/strung up by the neck

Being forced to apologize to everyone for making them worry while you were being tortured/otherwise suffering

Whumpees who aren't male and white

Redeemed villains that are too scared to ask for help and they end up hiding all their injuries from the hero(es)

TW: noncon/abuse/nsfw

Tickling, either consensually dubcon or against whumpee's will

More nsfw/dubcon (basically noncon but the whumpee doesn't really have a choice to resist)

Noncon touching (SEXUAL)

[ladybirdplace]

Recent Events

Fellow autos, and not-o’s: like I said in the last post, I haven’t been doing great, and now that I think of it, I think it would be important to mention it.

I’ve been really upset about something else that’s too personal to talk about but I will say this:

I’ve had a very privileged life for an autistic person. I have had isolated incidents of bullying (specific people routinely being antagonistic towards me) but it’s been an on and off thing. I’ve never had someone say to my face that I’m weird. I’ve been able to have friends (though not keep them). People only criticized me in subtle, quiet ways, in looks and gestures and confused, semi disgusted staring.

Compared to the kind of awful things autistics go through everyday because of who they are, I’ve had it really, really good.

But I’ve only recently realized that I’m still severely traumatized by the things I have experienced.

All my life, I’ve felt rejected.

I’ve been able to mask enough to seem sort of allistic, but never completely. I never realized I was masking because it was just how people acted around me and I thought that was how I was too.

I offered what I had as authentically as I possibly could. Even when I had friends, there was this barrier that I could never cross with them. I could never understand them, and I don’t imagine they understood me.

My mom says people liked me, but I never felt liked. If I was liked, I don’t know why people didn’t show it.

If people liked me, why did I feel like no one ever thought I was a person? Why did I feel inherently inferior to literally everyone?

Why have I never, ever in my life felt like a human being? Why have I never felt equal to anyone I have ever met?

And I’m just now admitting it. Yeah, I thought it wasn’t that bad, but it is.

I feel like my chest has been ripped open for my whole life and it’s never bled and hurt as much as it has lately.  Even with this though, the one thing I cling to is me. I know I’ll be alright as long as I stay with me.

[nightswithkookmin]

Goldy,

Kind of off topic, but a little on topic. Have you seen the band Maneskin from Italy? They won 2021 Eurovision Song Contest. Beautiful, beautiful people.

I have no idea of their sexual orientation or preferences, but they wear a lot of makeup on and off stage , and smooch on each other a lot on stage. Nobody bats an eye. They are a Metal band and they dress accordingly. I wish that everyone around the world was as accepting as all their fans are. They are super androgynous as well and they are SEXY as hell

Their charm and sexuality is so fluid and just so natural. They are who they are and they are beautiful and fun to watch. Their comfort with each other is how I wish ALL of us would be

Rock bands rock period

I wonder what they look like in brand ads. I wonder if they are given or are required to have a much tamer look with little to no rings and funky clothing or hoop earrings you can barely see.

Where are the dangly chrome earrings?! WHERE ARE THEY?!🤺

I like my BTS the way they are. It's what I bought in. I want to see men in corsets, waist snatched, dark eyeliners selling alcohol to men. Is that too much to ask?! Is it?!😒

This is what happens when they treat queerness as aesthetics and have no qualms drawing on- if not appropriate- gay culture and lifestyle. Y'all just ditch it for your hyper heteromasculinity whenever y'all want😒

Their ability to divorce themselves completly from certain looks at certain times is what gives me whiplash. When that happens, it creates the impression queerness is just a look, gender fluidity is not real and establishes traditional definitions of masculinity as the norm. You do not have to 'look like a man' to sell alcohol 🤺

I was literally waiting for this Kloud, Klout beer ad to drop ever since Winter Package at the end of last year because we all know what most people think about Alcohol and men. I was curious to how how BTS would market to men as compared to women and teens. I feel there is so much room for them to break norms and set new trends in the advertising world. I'm disappointed so far.

For contrast, look at how they look selling a nonachoholic beverage as compared to how they look selling alcohol. Can I weep? Can I?! See how they look like they just stepped off a set for a music video? They look like themselves. Their everyday selves but you look on your left and it's like huh??????

And in case the message and intent is not clear, here is a photo of different models modeling for the same brand.

Their girls look like "girls" and their boys look like "boys." I'd say BTS in those ads look much more similar to the male model here in terms of looks- that clear cut box labeled men- which to me is a problem.

I'm sorry but this is just lazy advertisement. Nothing at all ground breaking. The models look great. Taehyung looks tasty, heteromasculine and perfect.

I feel used to male oriented brands breaking boundaries and participating in the gender discourse in recent times I think my expectations for BTS on this topic in advertisement was this high.

If heteromasculinity is all y'all can tap into to sell a can of drink I'm sorry but that's misogynistic and sexist and homophobic.

If Jimin or any of these boys come out a few years down the lane in another documentary to say these kinds of shit affected them in any way I AM STARTING WORLD WAR III.

I'm tired of seeing Jimin and other Asian men be emasculated and treated as if they aren't men enough just because they look to them 'feminine.' You don't have to fix their masculinity or tweak it to suit your idea and ideals of masculinity. There's no one way of being man.

Don't get me started on the desexualization of Asian men and it's subsequent effects on Asian men. You hear Asian men are not sexy, they do not sell the fantasy, they are not this, they are not that blah blah blah and yet we sit here and wonder why someone like JK, who had probably internalized that shit, would say he wants to be seen as sexy too and perform sexy choreos and shit.

And no, it's not an American Asian problem, it's a global Asian problem. BTS are on the world's stage being socialized by the global community and they do face almost every microaggression prevalent within the regional communities. It's the American's take on them, Canada, UK, Africa, Asia, Europe, all of them. Everyone is projecting on to them their ideals and understanding of gender and who they should be. Did we not see BTS BIOT trending from the Philippines lately? Gay because WHY???? They wear make up and earrings and love androgynous?

Naa, I'm actually getting gassed the more I think about it🤺🤺🤺🤺🤺🤺🤺🤺🤺🤺

The notion that Asians aren't sexy sits on the opposite end of 'Asians are too soft and good looking they are not masculine' all on the something is inherently wrong with Asian men spectrum.

I keep saying Jikook are the two members who've faced and have perhaps had to defend their masculinities the most- from BTS themselves effeminating JK and always bringing his masculinity to question- you know they once said JK is the most feminine within the group? I think so too but that's besides the point chilee.

Then for Jimin, he's always been either over feminized or defeminized, masculated and treated as if his femininity is wrong and invalid. Didn't a certain Karmy call him a fake woman or something like that? It's almost the same microaggressions transfems and gay men steroetyped as bottoms recieve on a dialy basis in this shit hole we call planet. It's all so ghetto.

Ass holes like to masculate and invalidate fems and masculine femininity, it's appalling. And people like to gaslight and pretend these microaggressions cannot have Freudian effects on these people- he is too strong to be bullied, oh he worked so hard on himself he can't crack so easily, oh it's nothing they're just being sensitive, it was joke, they're reading too much into it, and my personal favorite- y'all are over analyzing when you point it out😌

Some people are legit serial gaslighters, they will gaslight you before you can say the Jay in Jesus.

As a black woman growing up in a community that view black women as strong and incapable of being mentally attacked and traumatized by certain experiences- black people don't get depression or mental health issues because they are black and they are strong- being masculated and defeminized on a dialy basis, I tell you- shit is torture.

All of this, and we sit here and wonder why Jimin wants to go to the gym and build muscles and blend in with the boys etc. Could be nothing, could be a response to the over feminization of Jimin, the emasculation or it could be he is internalizing some things. We will never know.

Personally, I feel JM is on the precipice of something and may be its something, may be its nothing but imma put my foot on these companies' neck and keep it there 🤓

Because it's not just about Jimin. It's about all the people who look up to him. All the people he has influence over. For every queer child who sees themselves in him and these men.

Any who. I think I've said everything I want to say on this topic. The weight on my chest is lifted. Asian men are sexy, their masculinity is VALID. Queer masculinity is valid too and they need to be inclusive of it. If you don't wanna include it leave BTS as they are. We get the representation as they are. Don't tweak them in y'all's brand campaigns. Don't fix Jimin's Jawline and make it more chiseled. HE IS PERFECT THE WAY HE IS.

Now please, let's talk about BigHit and the recent shipping agendas.😐

Signed,

GOLDY

[alsikamiwrites]

I was wondering how Muriel would react to a traumatized war veteran who had his brother exicuted by his commanding officer

(He/they)

Muriel reacting to a traumatized war veteran M/c whos brother was executed

Story style: Head-canons Requested by: anon Note: I wasn't sure if you wanted your ask to be a head-canon or a scenario, but I thought it'd be easier to write as a head-canon, so I went with that. I was also unsure of how you wanted the relationship to be, so I went platonic. I hope this is okay, though of course, if you would like something different, let me know! Thank you for sending me an ask💛 Slight Spoiler warning! Tw: Mentions of trauma, murder, panic attacks, and Ptsd

Muriel isn't a stranger to trauma himself.

He knows of the way it haunts you. Keeps you up at night. He knows of the phantom sensations that trick your mind into reliving things that were long in the past. The flashbacks that replay in your minds eye, like a silent movie you can't turn away from. He knows how much it hurts, and how much it will always hurt, everyday. That it never really truly goes away.

That's why he knew the man was going through more than he let on, the more he got to know him.

He was quiet, kept to himself a lot of the time, much like himself.

He wasn't all that interested at first, given the fact that he was trying to avoid others as much as he could.

But after getting to know the man who had come to be one of his dearest friends, he finds himself caring.

Concerned about the far away look his friend had in his eyes, the one that sometimes left him sitting in the same spot for hours on end.

The flinching at sounds that were a bit louder than anticipated, away from unexpected touches, (accidental, of course. He wasn't a touchy person much in the first place.) things that moved too quickly in his already wary sight.

The unprompted attacks of panic that had him screaming his lungs out, chest rising and falling sporadically as if the room were swallowing him whole, punching and writhing out of Muriels' confused and frantic hold as he tried his best to calm him down.

Muriel hated confrontation.

Hated having to ask something of someone when he knew he would hate the same thing asked of himself. Knew he'd never open up.

But he recognized what he was going through.

Could see it so clearly it hurt.

He could see himself.

So he couldn't just...Stand by and watch his friend fall apart right in front of his eyes.

He's not the best at comforting others, not having much experience, but he would try. So one day, after a lot of contemplating, he'd sit him down, deciding to ask him about what was going on

Honestly, he really didn't expect him to talk about it, but he'd definitely listen if he needed someone to lend an ear.

If he'd rather not talk, Muriel would be more than okay with that.

Would suggest going somewhere to get his mind off of it for a little while instead, even though he knows how hard that can be.

Maybe they'd go for a walk in the forest, or he'd go with them into the city, (even though the large man didn't care for it much there, with it being so lively.)

Pretty much anything to distract him from the inevitable and overwhelming grief he knew his friend was going through.

Inanna would even allow him to pet her, sensing his distress, knowing she could trust him given Muriels' friendship.

But if he does end up telling Muriel what happened, he'd let him talk about it without any interruption, his face almost holding no reaction.

Though as soon as trembling hushed words of the horrifying reliving goes into the air, his skin is as white as a sheet, hands shaking atop his knees and tear burned eyes holding sheer remorse as he watches them break down.

It hits almost too close for him, with his past. How he'd...What he was forced to do in the colosseum.

How he had to watch the life of numerous victims eyes drain at his hands, over and over again.

While he knows his situation is much different, his mind can't help but to make the connection.

The constricting ropes of guilt wrapping around him without relent as he watches him try and hold back sobs, try to keep his voice steady, visibly at the brink of another panic as his eyes stare off like they often did.

Somewhere far from where they were sitting at the moment.

Somewhere Muriel knew he couldn't reach. Did they...Did those people go through this hurt too? Did they fall apart with sobs wracking their bodies at the thought of their loved ones dying at cruel hands- his hands.

Did they flinch, and scream, and relive the same nightmare over and over-

He'd force himself to snap out of his own down-ward spiral, blinking away the remaining tears in his eyes with a shaky breath, arm going to wipe away any that strayed quickly.

He didn't deserve to cry.

He, his friend who had helped him when Muriel was in a state not much different than his own, who had understood his traumas, understood him- he needed him right now.

He knows of how much his friend had cared for his brother, having heard so many stories of the man, seen the smile that didn't show very often lift his lips.

Knew he'd held so much pride for his sibling.

Even though Muriel hadn't met him himself, with how much his friend,( who didn't speak so much otherwise)- had spoken so highly of him, he found himself having respect for the man himself.

He's not much help in the regards of wording, but he hopes that his presence is enough.

He's not sure if a pat to the back as comfort would do any good, not knowing how he felt about touch at the moment considering what he had gone through in the past,

But he would definitely sit a safe distance beside him, and ask if he needed anything from him.

Muriel would allow him to vent and let it out for as long as he needed, to grieve.

To lose a brother, family, in that way no less- was nothing short of horrible.

He resented the man who had done it, wanting nothing more than to do something about it. The urge to hurt someone, an urge that usually made him sick to the stomach- to hurt that man, the person who left his friend in this state.

But he knew he couldn't.

The devastating event, while somewhat recent, had happened a little while ago by the sounds of it.

Though, even if he couldn't do anything quite substantial, Muriel could at least be there for him.

Calm him down when he had another trigger induced panic,

Distract him when he noticed he wasn't quite there like he should be,

Do whatever he knew would make the man temporarily happy,

Just...Be the person he wished would've been there for him.

It would be a long ride, these kinds of things; trauma, never just up and left.

But it would subside, little by little. Be a little less painful everyday.

And Muriel knew some days would be harder for him than others, progress seeming to disappear within the blink of an eye at the smallest of remembrances.

But Muriel also knew he would be okay.

He would be there for his friend, for as long as it took. Every step of the way.

[exoluxionlove]

EXO-L JPN Planet #14: Chanyeol's Emotional Book

👤: Say something happy that happened recently! 🍒: I had a jam session with Raiden-Hyung recently, he complimented me and I was super happy. To me, his (Raiden) existence is like a teacher, he complimented me and said "you improved from previously", I'm just so happy.

👤: Have you quarreled with members before? 🍒: Not at all, it'll be on a level of simply being questioned, wanna fight? Everyone is tolerating and accepting of each other, or when you're together for too long, there's nothing to quarrel about (laughs). But during trainee days, leader (Suho) will get angry at me occasionally (laughs). At that time, I was more of the playful (refuse to listen) type, leader is more of the role model type, so he will often remind me. Although I didn't use to understand why he did that in the past, I'm very grateful towards him now.

👤: When doing activities with EXO, a moment you felt joy? 🍒: When together with members, I'm always very happy. Moments like when we sing on stage together, laughing together in the waiting room.... We all know each other very well, we aren't nervous around each other, it's comfortable and relaxing.

👤: Something scary recently? 🍒: Cockroach! It's really so scary. Although nothing traumatic happened, I don't know why I'm just scared. Speaking of which, there was once I just got out of the shower and saw a huge roach, I had a battle with it. We had a standstill for 10 mins, I didn't have insecticides so I used detergent, I guess I sprayed only about 200 times ~ When I came back to my senses, half a bottle was gone (laughs)

👤: When angry, will you silently sulk alone or express it? 🍒: I will quietly allow my emotions to cool off. I won't vent my frustrations to others, I'll just adjust my emotions myself, but when I'm mad, I can't hide it off my face (laughs). The one who made me mad didn't do it on purpose, they might also have their own reasons too. I'll do this to calm down. Besides, I'm not a super sensitive person, I'll forget it after a while ~

👤: Emotion that's hardest to express? 🍒: Happiness. Sadness, fear, shock can be created with specific images in your mind, but when it comes to happiness, it's tough. If it's not happiness from within, "joyfulness" can't be expressed. It's easy to just smile but having to express happiness from within is very difficult.

👤: How do you cope/resolve sadness? 🍒: When sad, I'll record down the emotions that was greatest at that time. This kind of emotion to me is like a treasure. I'll record it down on my phone memo or play the guitar. Rather than saying "resolve/cope", why not say letting my emotions change into something else and save it. When in thought process/concentrating, the feeling of sadness will naturally go off.

👤: If you were to express the feelings in your heart everyday on a scale of 100%? 🍒: I live my life with 100% happiness. I don't really have much negative thoughts. And if there are signs of negativity, I'll "switch myself off", closing off the negative thoughts - I wish to live my life positively.

👤: What is the happiest memory you had with the members? 🍒: The memory of going overseas with everyone, having fun while working, drinking and eating delicious food is what I remember the most. Especially, during the reality show "Travel the World on EXO's Ladder" was the happiest time for me. It was fun during the shoot, but even during off-camera we played games at the hotel, we also went to the pool... The feeling of having to go there just like hanging out with friends was very fun. At that time I feel like staying there as it is for 1-2 months. Eating delicious food together while watching the sunset... I remember every single detail of those memories.

👤: You're known as happy virus, what do you do to stay happy? 🍒: It's similar to the question about my motto. Even if something happens that drives me to edge I'll still try my best to enjoy/have fun. Not just for myself, but I also wish to infect the ones around me through optimism. Sometimes when I wanna hype up the atmosphere, I might go a little overboard, but if this makes others happy, it's a joyful thing to me too.By making others happy, I'll be rewarded too.

👤: Is there a situation/time you thought: I absolutely can't lose in this? 🍒: My thinking has changed slightly recently, I'll be 30 in a few years, my mentality has changed from the past too. I used to think 'whatever I do, I do not wanna lose, I have to be first'. Now, I just think, as long as I'm happy, that's what matters! I guess it can be said that my mentality has relaxed, I no longer go head on/do the unnecessary (just to be first), you can't refuse to admit defeat on everything.

👤: Up until now, the time you cried the hardest? 🍒: During elementary or middle school, a dog we raised at home passed on. It was a Dobermann, it had only been with me for 2 years but it was closest to me at home. An accident occurred later on and it was being treated at the vet for over a month, did a few surgeries but ultimately, it lost the battle. Finally one day after I ended class, came home and learned that it was gone, that was probably the hardest I cried in my life. Although it's something that happened when I was young.

👤: You once said your motto was "Let's enjoy!", can you tell us the reason how it came about? 🍒: I love this saying, "A genius can't win a hardworking person, a hardworking person can't win a person who enjoys the moment". If you don't think/dwell about how tough it is to do something, and carry a mentality of enjoying it while doing it, it might result in a happy ending. Even if the results are unsatisfactory, the process is still happy. So when approaching everything, (I) carry the mindset of enjoying it and do it.

👤: Something you find cute recently? 🍒: The little puppy I'm raising now, she's too cute, it's like I'm raising a newborn/little baby, I pour my whole into raising her [even if I do not get a sound sleep/sleep properly, I have to get up and look at her] I keep thinking about how she is/situation (laughs)

Translation 1 2

[wordynerdygurl]

Skin Deep - Part 6

Author’s Note:  Honestly, this story is nearing it’s ending.  Hard to believe that a little idea I couldn’t shake has now grown into this mini-series!  For all my die-hard homies, waiting for the next installment, I hope this is worth your while!  If you’re new here, take a look around, see if you like anything and please, let the management know if you have any questions!! As always, writing like this requires the emotional support of people and pets.  My dogs, Murphy and Winston, get me through a lot of plot bunnies just by being stalwart companions.  My husband, graciously, lets me take these flights of fancy when I probably should be paying better attention to him and his day... and some of my besties here on Tumblr make it possible for me to do this for you guys.  @sammy-jo1977​ , my sister from another mister!  Couldn’t/ Wouldn’t do it without you! To all the folks who follow me... My Minxes!  Love you all!  Stay well, be kind, and remember that Love, really does conquer all!  If you want to be a Minx, send me a note, I’ll happily add you to my tag list! Lastly, be sure to like and share anything that you see on Tumblr that catches your eye.  Creative types, we need the constant validation, you see?  Without it, like an unwatered plant, we wither on the vine and perish!  Be kind to those who help you through the day and reblog! Skin Deep Part 5 - click here for the previous chapter! Pairing:  Loki x Reader, Steve, Valkyrie & Thor all make appearances Summary:  Continued from Part 5, You and Loki put your plan into action, returning to Farmhouse.  When you encounter Steve again, you learn there’s more than two sides to this story. Warnings:  Loki’s POV and perspective, including mentions of his time under Thanos.  I’m re-writing MCU history here, but some of the main beats are the same, so look out for SPOILERS for Dark World, Ragnarok, and a touch of Infinity War.  The SNAP never happened because, reasons.  

Empathy used to seem such a human emotion.  Loki had no time for that on Asgard, not when Odin denied anything as frivolous as feeling.  Hiding in plain sight was the means to survival and if that made the young prince sneaky and sly, so be it.  By placing those parts of himself under lock and key; the parts that hurt, the ones that ached, Loki found it was safer to disconnect from others than subject himself to their suffering too.

Operating under the influence of Thanos and his minions when he held the scepter, Loki had purposefully divorced connection of any kind from his mind.  It was dangerous.  Weak.  And moreover, it allowed Loki to do what Thanos commanded without really experiencing the horror, the havoc, of his actions for himself. 

  Who could hear the screams of women when the voice of Ebony Maw subliminally chanted all the ways that one could be dismembered at Thanos’ hands should Loki fail?  What man would shed a tear after the near constant beatings doled out by Black Order members, just for the fun of it?  How could someone care about a house, a car, a city, when they no longer cared about themself? Losing the Battle for New York had consequences far beyond the destruction of property.  With Thanos’ hold over him vanquished, the walls around his heart, constructed in youth, crashed and burned like the dream of ruling Earth.  Suddenly and completely out of reserves, Loki was powerless.  And he felt everything.  The fresh hurts caused by his manipulated ambitions in the hands of Thanos. The furious feelings of his brother, the inadequacies of his character, the feeble needs that drove his wild ambition washed over him unceasingly.  Anger.  Loss.  Lunacy.  Loki learned a hard truth in that moment.  He was a monster.  A freak.  A creature beyond hope and salvation; proving his adoptive father right and his own hopeful heart wrong.  Bitterness soured the fallen prince. Endless hours in isolation on Earth, which continued in his father's house, had Loki believing he had no chance of seeing the world outside again, and it hardened his heart further.  To feel was so painful, so raw, and so humane.  Why bother anyway?  All that emoting, those high spirits, all they really did was expose you to derision.  What was grief to a goblin?  What was horror to a monster?  What was love to a villain like him?  An evil, conspiring demi-god, with a mind bent toward domination.  A damaged, destroyed, deity alone and in pieces.  Who would ever give someone like Loki Odinson a chance?  Why should they?

Turning to his mother, Loki did everything but ask for forgiveness.  In long rambling talks, her projection to his jailed person, the pair talked around ideas of guilt and innocence, of fate and fortune, of destiny versus desire, yet Loki never heard the words he needed in order to truly find peace.   

If Frigga was aware of her son’s need for absolution, Loki would never know, as their last exchange was harsh and full of anger.  Another stroke of loss, crippling now, because there was nothing Loki could do to change any of it from inside his prison cell.  No illusion could conceal the painful ache that consumed him entirely. 

Those days were dark, even for a soul as dusky hued as his own, and Loki’s thoughts followed a similar path.  If there had been a way for him to shake off this immortal coil, free himself of the burden of living, Loki would have done so and been glad.  Death was welcome compared to all this longing and heartache. But life, even a nearly immortal one, was funny. 

When Thor provided a chance at redemption, Loki snatched at it, in his own detached way.  He played hero, rescuing Jane, aiding his brother.  And if he took a bit more in the form of deposing his arrogant, aging father, who would be surprised?  He was Loki, God of Mischief, after all. Ruling the Nine Realms without the oppressive oversight of his father allowed Loki to prove himself in ways he never imagined.  And Loki wasn’t just good at it.  He was great. Of course, it helped that no one knew he was Loki.  Living disguised as Odin was often unpleasant, frequently frustrating, but entirely necessary.  Being Loki was still too difficult and likely to bring unwanted attention in the form of The God of Thunder, a thing that no one truly wanted, Loki least of all. Return Thor did, along with an unknown sister and the end of Asgard.  When confronted with the insanity of Hela’s bloodlust, Loki’s only thought was of his kingdom, now without a ruler.  He had worked too hard, too long, to see the land he cared for in the hands of an enemy, even if she called herself sister.  Opening the Bi-Frost, panicked, his mind was solely on saving those he had recently held dominion over.  They were his people, after all.  But he never reached Asgard. Swallowing his fear, Loki focused all his energy on staying alive in a new and distracting environment, initially.  What Loki found on Sakaar wasn't a new home base under a flamboyant, ineffective leader that he could control, even if that was his first design.  On Sakaar Loki found his loyalty.  

The proud, deep resonance of being Asgardian, of being an Odinson, of being capable and cool under pressure.  Sure, he had to prove himself to Thor, Valkyrie, Banner and honestly, the rest of the kingdom, but actions speak louder than words.  And through his actions on Sakkar, and by extension rescuing the people of Asgard, Loki had shown everybody his true mettle. It was on the deck of a stolen ship headed for Midgard that  Loki had made a commitment of sorts.  One that was not to the people, so recently saved or for his found family.  This time, the promise Loki intended to keep was for himself.  Loki was going to change. The problem is, a task like that takes time.  Patience.  Motivation.  It was something that Loki had to work at and it was exhausting. They say that the best things come to those who wait.  Loki was learning to wait everyday.  Having earned a place at the side of his brother, he worked tirelessly to win over the heroes of his new home planet.  Was it easy?  Hardly, but Loki wasn’t willing to compromise.  Not anymore. A life like Hela’s was not in his runes.  Loki was simply going to be better.  Not perfect.  No one could be as good hearted as Captain America, nor could one be as tech savvy as Stark.  So Loki was planning on being the best Loki he could possibly be, and that’s how he found himself going to meetings at The Avengers Tower, a mostly welcome addition to the team. Meetings weren’t all that exciting and boredom was an awful temptation for a deity devoted to mayhem.  In fact, Loki spent more time doodling in his notebook than listening to whoever was droning on about whatever part of the world needed the attention of this motley crew.  That was, until Pepper Potts hired her new assistant.  That you were polite, pretty and pert wasn’t lost on the young god.  Sitting outside Mrs. Iron Man’s office, typing away with a phone tucked under your ear, moving faster than anyone he had ever seen was certainly impressive.  You were quick witted, clever and most of all, funny. Everyone else seemed to fall under your spell without much effort on your part, something that Loki found frustratingly fascinating.  Here he was, struggling to get people to say his name without having a traumatic flashback, while you simply smiled and smarted off prettily, and had everyone singing your praises.  But Norns, were you adorable. If he thought about it, and while off planet, Loki definitely had, he could remember the moment he realized that you were the woman he wanted.  You were busy, as always, fielding phone calls and flipping through screens yet every moment your flying fingers weren’t hovering over a keyboard or pushing down telephone buttons they curled around a heart shaped charm at your throat.  Clearly, it was a habit and one that you weren’t even aware of, still - it transfixed him all the same.  Watching you from his side eye, your voice never wavering, your tone always so pleasing, and your nimble digits returning again and again to the small sigil around your neck.  “Loki?” “Huh?”  Dumbfounded at your call, those deep sea eyes blinked wildly at the sound of his name on your lips. “Hi!  Yes, Pepper can see you now.  Go ahead, she’s ready!” He rose on stiff legs, adjusting his tie, about to lie to Tony Stark’s woman all for the chance to see you in passing.  Who had he become? It started out innocent like that, but soon, Loki was having to invent excuses for being in the office so frequently.  Missing files, random visits, even going so far as to buy Tony coffee just for the thrill of seeing you.  Something needed to change, and quickly, or Loki was going to blow. On another made up errand, hanging around the executive’s high rise office, Loki was doing a bad job of pretending not to see you.  His mind was on your pouty lips as you sipped lemonade through a straw and not on the stately woman seated behind the desk. 

“Loki, you’re a man of some… style.”  Pepper said it so casually that he almost didn’t hear, his head lost in thoughts that would shame any other person. “I like to think so.”

Shutting her folder with a snap, Pepper smiled, “And you’d love to help your old friend Pepper out, right?” That got his attention, and quickly.  Loki, shoving his hands in his pockets, turned to face Pepper with a widening grin, “I feel like I’m being baited.”

“Baited?  Never!  It’s just, you’re always here and I have a… project that needs the kind of help that you can provide.”  At those words you entered the office, ready for action with a notebook and pen, eager and excited. Suddenly, it was all clear to Loki, “Pepper, no.”  

The noose closed in on the handsome god as Pepper gathered paperwork without looking his way, “Come on, it’s the Stark Homecoming Gala and the two of you will do great!  I have faith in you both.  I can’t wait to see what you come up with!” “Really, Miss Potts, I simply can’t-” Stopping short, the strawberry blonde whipped around, almost nose to nose with Loki.  Shrewd and straightforward, Pepper interrupted, saying, “You’ve been dancing around my office for weeks now.  Clearly you like her and… against all the odds, she likes you too.  I’m doing you a favor and when someone does you a favor, you say “Thank You”.” “Thank you.” Nodding curtly, “You’re welcome.  Now, make yourselves comfortable, order some dinner, my treat.  And do whatever you need to make sure this is one great party!” That’s how Loki found himself sitting at a clear glass table over sweating bottles of iced tea as you discussed color themes and tablecloths.  You were shy, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you reviewed notes from previous gatherings both large and small.  His hands itched with wanting to do that job himself. “So, what do you think?”  It was the first time you had addressed him directly since coming through the door and for a moment Loki couldn’t answer.  You were too… not beautiful, that wasn’t the right word, although you were.  No, you were too open, too easy to read, and the earnestness you offered him was downright frightening. Sitting forward in the uncomfortable, yet fashionable, office furniture, Loki cleared his throat and again tugged his tie, “What I think is that you should let me take you dinner.” Dropping your eyes, your cheeks colored slightly as your fingers found that locket charm once more, “Loki, I… I don’t know-” Grabbing for your hand, suddenly afraid that you would take those shining eyes away, Loki lowered his voice and did something he never thought he would.  He begged.  “Please?  I find that you’re all I can think about.” It rushed out of him in a torrent, the way truth so often does, and he found himself unable to look you in the eye.  Loki was afraid to see rejection on your easy to read face, afraid that wanting you had cracked open the lock box holding his heart, afraid that you would see just how weak you made him.  Your fingers twined with his own as you replied, “You didn’t let me finish.  I don’t know what took you so long.” Sighing with relief, his face melting into a genuine smile, “Me either.” Over the next two months the pair of you worked tirelessly to plan and execute a perfect party.  You were inseparable during the day, heads buried together as you discussed linens and table settings, the quality of cocktail glasses, and debating over a band or a dj.  But at night, at night Loki talked about the things that haunted him in the dark.  And you loved him in spite of the awful things he had seen and done and said. Others took notice.  Loki was more lighthearted, more available.  He listened when people spoke and wasn’t constantly doodling during meetings.   Yes, Loki was learning how to love through your loving him.  If empathy had seemed too humane before, then sharing his life, his love with you, was the kind of immortality that earned someone a place in Valhalla.  It was the bravest thing Loki Odinson had ever done and he didn’t mind one bit.

The first time Loki tasted you was burned into his brain, as bright as a flash of lightning.  A firefly in a memory jar that he kept returning to, time and again.  Loki remembered what you were wearing.  He recalled exactly how the light shone in your eyes.  If he concentrated, he could tap out the rhythm of your racing pulse as he held you in his arms. It was the night of the gala.  Inviting everyone under the Stark Industries banner, up to and including the heroes tasked with saving the world, the event was a way to earn money for one of the many charities Tony supported.  The place was full of beautiful people wearing gorgeous clothes under perfect lights set to the hand crafted soundtrack you had created together.

But, Norns, he could still remember the way your eyes sparkled under the lowlights of that hall.  How your dress, simple but sophisticated, clung to the fullness of your bottom.  Low cut but somehow still modest, Loki couldn’t tear his gaze away from the promise of your curves, willing himself to find anything else as interesting as the idea of you.  

You were across the room hanging onto Tony’s every word, eyes bright and cheerfully glowing as you sipped champagne.  It made Loki want to do something grand, something suave, something that would demand your attention for his own.  Moving towards you, his tuxedo perfectly pressed and fitting better than it had any right to, Loki looked long and lean.  Each of his steps seemed to echo, even though the room was full of sound, and you turned your head as if you also heard.  Breaking away from the cluster of acolytes surrounding Iron Man, you bit into your lip as the crowd parted, moving closer together one step at a time.  It was one of the sexiest things Loki had ever witnessed. Lifting your glass in a toast, taking in the room of mingling millionaires, wealthy hangers on and Avengers, “Well, we did it!” “You did it, my dove, I just hung around and judged everyone.” “Oh stop.  I couldn’t have done it without you and you know it.”  Playfully you pushed against his shoulder and Loki took advantage, using your momentum to pull you to his side, your curvy figure flush against his own. Crooning into the shell of your ear, his lips brushing over that sensitive skin, “Somehow, love, I think you would have managed.”  Before you had time to think, Loki had melded his mouth with your own, stealing your breath along with your heart.  Loki’s feet moved in time with the music as he pulled into a dance, laughing in his arms, your cheeks hot and your head swimming. You laughing was, without question, Loki’s favorite sound.  Nothing in this world or any other came close to matching the joyful, childlike glee of that enchanting noise.  Loki memorized its melody, the rise and fall of your giggle.  He had craved it, being away for so long, and now he wanted… no, needed to hear it.  But you were the furthest thing from happy at the moment.   

"Darling, please.  We have to go."  Loki tapped his watch, shaking himself free from the memories of your previous life together and barely suppressing his irritation.

Tears filled your eyes as you whipped your arms around Thor’s mighty shoulders, his deep voice grumbly with emotion, "Take care of him, would you?  He's a jerk, but Loki is the only brother I have."

"Of course… always.  And Valkyrie, your highness, I can’t thank you enough for-"

"No need.  Loki, and by extension yourself, will always have a safe haven here in my palace."

Looking on, Loki and Thor embraced almost tenderly before crashing their heads together.  

"Stay safe, little brother."

"Be good, Thor."

Eyes on the sky, Val ignored the show of masculine emotion, chastising your plan, "You’re going to start a war, Loki."

Straight backed, Loki turned to the king, "Not on the grass of New Asgard.  I will take the fight to them, that is my vow to you."

As Loki offered his hand, Valkyrie shook it, with parting words, "Work on staying alive.  You have a tendency to worry your brother."

Solemnly nodding, "As the king commands.  Shall we?"  With that Loki laced his fingers with yours, leading you a few paces away from the people who loved him most, before summoning the magic that had you both transcending space and time.

This time when your feet touched down it was on the familiar turf of the orchard, surrounded by the scent of apple blossoms and the buzzing of happy bees.  Morning had broken and the world seemed full of promise, with the exception of that knot in your stomach.

"Are you ready?  Darling?"

"Oh… yes.  I mean, I still don't love this plan, but-"

"But it's going to work."  Only it was no longer the baritone voice of your long, lean Loki speaking.  In his place stood Nick Fury, leather duster and eye patch in place.

"If you say so!"  And you clutched your own throat as Natasha’s bored tones came out of your mouth.  The suit, skin tight but flexible, molded to your modified form.  All in all, you were comfortable, "The boots are a bit much."

"Ya think?  This jacket weighs a ton."  Pulling at his collar, "Why does he wear a turtleneck anyway?"

"Loki, this is so weird.  It feels so weird."

"Agreed, but then, why am I so turned on?"

Laughing, you shook your false red hair, hands resting on Natasha’s waist, "God, I've missed you."

"Same, dearest.  Now… let's get your necklace and some answers!"

---

 Convincing Bucky to head home had taken a lot of work, but sometime around 2 am Steve had finally seen his friend off.  The house was empty.  Steve felt the same way.

Turning the black velvet box in his pocket, fingers crushed against the fragile fabric, Steve struggled to feel anger.  When that didn't materialize he shot for sadness but even tears seemed beyond his ability.  

With a sigh, climbing the same stairs he had trudged up a hundred times before, Steve started going through the motions of bedtime.  Only tonight you weren’t there to tease him about the wildly inappropriate amount of toothpaste on his brush.  He didn’t have your light footsteps to follow to the bedside or your help with stacking all of your extra, yet entirely essential, pillows on the chair.

Someone must have changed the sheets, he thought.  There was no evidence of you and Loki’s adventurous afternoon anymore.  Steve made a mental note to thank Buck for that little piece of kindness in the morning.

Shucking his shirt, Steve sat on the mattress, a hand to his forehead.  He had lost.  Captain America had been bested.  Beaten.  And by Loki, no less.

Moonlight in silver slivers shone through the window panes, squares of light in the deep of night.  Steve was alone.  Utterly and totally alone.

And there was no one to blame but himself.

Sighing hard, Steve stood, pacing the floor to work off some of the unspendable anxiety he kept creating.  The room still had your energy, your vibe, as you liked to call it, and the feeling was a prickling itch Steve couldn’t quite satisfy.  Traces of you were everywhere and something about you leaving all of it, and him, behind was just too big to process. “Damn it.”  Even whispering sounded like thunder in the silence of your recently vacated room.  His hands, so big, so strong, smoothed along the fabric of your hanging clothes.  All that power had done nothing to help Steve get the thing he wanted. Sorting through the baubles and trinkets on your dresser, bottles of perfume he had purchased, necklaces and pins, each with a moment of memory it hurt him to recall.  Your watch ticked away the minutes as he stood, stoic and still, surrounded by the shadow of you.  In the orchard the birds were waking, their song filling the air, as morning broke in low golden rays.  Abandoning his plan for sleep, Steve watched as the light chased away the dark, casting rainbows on the floor.  The sun was reflecting off of your Grandmother’s necklace.  A pretty, ancient, carved cameo,  heart shaped locket.  He recalled his own mother owning one just like it, pictures of loved ones pressed inside, holding them as tight as history would allow. Fisting the filigree chain, winding it around his fingers as if it would somehow undo what he had done, Steve slipped it into his pocket before settling back onto the bed.  ----

At the back door to the home you so recently shared with Steve, Loki hung back, “I think this is where we split up.  You go find your treasure and me… I’m going to find some answers.” Nodding, Natasha’s signature red hair swinging, you squeezed the hand holding your own.  It no longer looked like Loki’s long fingered paw, but that was only a skin deep change.  You felt the undeniable essence of him in the press of his fingers against your own. “Be careful.” “That’s no fun, dove.” “Loki-”  You hated the way your voice broke as you said it, but there just seemed to be so much at stake and you had already lost him once. Sensing your unspoken concerns, Loki flashed you Nick Fury’s best smile, “I will.  I promise.”

“Ten minutes.” “Ten minutes.”  You watched the black coated back of your charmed paramour as he opened the shed door, hoping that he’d find something worth knowing in that place out of sight.  Inhaling deeply you twisted the doorknob as quietly as possible, letting yourself into what was once your kitchen, “What a mess.”  It was impossible not to notice the unwrapped leftovers and empty bottles littering the table.  An overturned trash barrel, crumpled beer cans littering the counter, things that Steve, your Steve, would never have tolerated.  All evidence that the grand evening he’d envisioned had been thwarted by Loki’s arrival and your collective escape.  

You started up the stairs, praising Natasha's footwear for its stealth, when you heard the toilet flush and the unmistakable shuffle of Steve’s feet on the carpet.  There was no place to hide on the wide stairwell.  It was time to see if Loki's plan was going to work.

Voice blurry, eyes rubbed red and raw, you couldn't deny that Steve looked like shit, “Bucky?  That you?  You back?”  Steve’s voice bounced around the brightening room as morning sunlight filtered through the soft sheers you had picked out for exactly this reason. Panicked, you backed into the railing with an over loud “Oof!” “Nat?  What are you doing here?  I thought you and Fury were headed to New Asgard?”  Suddenly wide awake and wondering, Steve rushed to your costumed side, eager for information. The man in front of you now bore little resemblance to the angry Avenger you had escaped from hours before.  This man had hair sticking up in odd angles from near constant finger raking.  This man had a hint of a stuffy nose and red rimmed eyes, all indicators that tears had been shed.  Now those blue eyes were scrutinizing you closely, full of concern.

“Uh… We... We got intel.  Yea, intelligence, that Loki was headed back this way.  Turned around… and uh, here we are.” One of those sandy blonde eyebrows lifted, “Natasha?”

Squaring your shoulders, channeling that cool confidence you’d see Black Widow display over and over, “Steve?”  Something about your tone of voice convinced him in a way your words couldn’t.  He visibly relaxed, those broad shoulders going slack as he asked, “Didn’t make it to Norway, then?"

Nodding a negative, you felt the unfamiliar brush of her red hair at your cheek and had to fight the urge to tuck it away, “No.  Loki’s using some sort of transporting power to move them around.  Fury suggested I keep an eye out here, in case they come back this way.” “She won’t be back, Nat.  There’s nothing for her here.”  To you, Steve sounded so sad, so removed, that you had to will yourself not to comfort the giant before you.  “That’s not true!”  It came out of you forcefully, thoughtlessly, and you saw the shock register on the Captain’s face. “That is, Fury and I… we… have reason to believe that she will come back.  They left with nothing, Steve.  She’ll need clothes… maybe some shoes… and-”  Swallowing hard, you didn’t want to give anything away, “-a necklace from her grandmother.” Steve, patting his pocket, felt the weighted chain and it’s heart shaped locket, “I don’t think-” Stepping up to his bulky form, suddenly aggressive, you started, “Never mind what you think, Captain.  We're here for a necklace...  the necklace.  Our intel suggests that your former flame might return for it and… And, I want it, with me, as a means to subdue her when she arrives." Sounding forceful and official was enough to back Steve down.  Just a touch deflated, you watched him shrug, “If that’s what you want, Nat, here-”  From his pants he pulled out the shining bauble, a trinket really, but full of sentiment and memory. Sitting in his palm, the tiny heart that held the picture of your grandmother and mother looked so small, almost unreal.  Reaching for it with wet eyes, you smiled at Steve as you lifted the charm and chain, “Thank you, Steve.  Thank you.” Nodding deeply, that golden head bobbing, “You’re welcome.”  The large grandfather clock could be heard ticking throughout the house.  The sun was gaining on the day and you, dressed as Natasha stood in silence in front of a somber Steve.  For another long beat nothing was said, then, as if sensing a shift in your conversation, Steve flashed your fake Natasha a weak smile, “I could use some breakfast.  How about you?”

“Um… sure.  Yea, ok.  Breakfast.” 

Steve started moving again, downstairs towards the cluttered kitchen when he paused, "So how did you get back so fast?  Cause that's like a 7 hour flight, even with you in the cockpit." “Steve…”  You could hear it, the whining almost pleading tone that signaled the end of Loki’s well planned charade.  That wasn’t enough to stop Steve.  He broke hard, one of those strong arms stopping you in your tracks before you could reach the lower level. “It’s clever, I have to give you guys that.  Almost perfect, really.” Panic rising, you doubled down on the ruse, struggling to keep your voice even, “I don’t know-”  Blocking you in, his body the perfect unmovable buffer, “Loki’s here too, isn’t he?” Pushing against “Steve, I… I don’t…” “Don’t lie.  You don’t have to…” “But… how-?” “You’re not mean enough to play Natasha, doll.  Not by a long shot.”

--- It was strange to be seated at the table and chairs that you and Steve had picked out together one sunny Saturday when you thought that your future was going to be Loki-less.  Your place, the one that you had imagined filling with children that had golden hair and bright blue eyes, felt like a set.  Something false and fake.  A facade, put together simply for show. Steve must have felt it too because his fingers drummed against the white washed table incessantly.  Clearly he had something on his mind.  “Steve-” “No.  No.  Please, let me just get this out, ok?” Raising an eyebrow, you waved at him to continue, nervous but interested in what the super soldier needed to explain. With a shaky inhale, running his constantly moving fingers through his golden locks, Steve caught your eye and didn’t waiver.  “When I saw you… No, that’s not right.  Let me start at the beginning. “When Loki left Earth, you… you were so sad.  It hurt me to see you so… deflated.” “Steve, I-” “You know it’s true.  When he returned to Asgard, something in you, it dimmed, and I just couldn’t allow that… Not when I felt the way I did about you. “I don’t think you realize just how incredible you are… how full of life!  And since I had already missed one chance to be with you, I knew I needed to prove that I could be the man you needed… If you forgot about Loki along the way, even better. “Only… you never did.  I waited years for you, ya know, doll?  Years.  And just when I thought there was no chance with you, Nat gave me a reason to hope. “She was your friend.  An ally.  Someone you could trust… someone I could trust.  I swear it started out that innocently, at least for me.  I just wanted to make you smile again.  But she had other plans.  Plans that came from higher up the ladder of SHIELD. “Fury, he wanted us to watch you… something about Loki being too powerful.  And-”, grabbing your hand tightly, Steve emphasized his point, “-I promise you that I had no idea about his success, or the messages he had sent to you through Nick.  Like you, I thought that Loki was gone.  Missing.  Never coming back.” “I… I believe you Steve.  I know that you didn’t do all this on your own… but what was Nick hoping you’d find out?  I knew less than nothing about what was going on!” “I think he was worried that Loki would get to you first.  That if… when Loki returned, you would be his first stop.  Then you would know about Loki’s success and, frankly, Fury’s failures.  You would also know… well, everything you know now.  That Fury had you tailed, lied to, and led on in an effort to stop Loki from out flanking him.” Frenzied and frantic, you felt anger boiling up inside of you, “But I thought Loki was gone forever.  There was no hope for him and I… and Natasha, she told me that he was dead.” “All a part of Fury’s plan to keep you neutralized and Loki away.  If Loki thought that you’d ignored his letters, that you no longer loved him, why would he come back here?  And, if that didn’t work… when Loki came back and you were with me, what else could keep him on Earth?”

Whispering with realization, “So, they used you too.” Steve sighed and buried his hands in the pockets of his sweatshirt, “Don’t feel bad for me.  I let them use my love for you, let them twist it up and shape it as they needed.  Honestly, I wish I could tell you that it was for you, but it wasn’t.  It was for me.  I wanted you, so, so badly.  I didn’t care what strings were attached.  And we built a life together, you and me.  I thought I could outrun the reality of the constant monitoring and daily reports.  Telling Natasha and Nick about every word and each email.  Don’t you see, I love you… and I wanted you, however I could get you.” Shaking your head, Natasha’s red wisps flying, “That’s not love, Steve.  I don’t know what that is… but love isn’t it.” “No?”  With a loud thunk, Steve slammed a small velvet box on the table between you. “Is… Is that what I think it is?”

“Last night.  It was going to happen last night.  Our friends here, under the lights and the stars, I was going to ask you to marry me.  I still would if-” Realization hit you like a ton of bricks, “If Loki hadn’t stepped back into our lives.” “-If Loki hadn’t stepped back into your life.” It made you both laugh in a sad way, how you finished the same thought, and for a fleeting second you could see why you had allowed Captain America to sweep you off your feet.  He was a lot of things to you now, but there was a time when he had been almost everything.  The evidence of that was in the small black square that said nothing but spoke volumes. “Steve, I don’t know if I would have said yes… even without Loki’s… arrival.  I think I have always known that you and I… we are very different people.” Sitting back in his chair, his gaze still locked on your own, “I just want you to know that I’m sorry.  I’m sorry about what I’ve done… what I’ve said… How, shit, how I’ve behaved.  I could say that it was my duty.  I could tell you it was out of love, but the plain truth is that I have always been jealous of what you and Loki share.” “You’ll find it Steve.  You really will.  There’s a person out there waiting for you.  And once you’ve found them, oh Steve, you’ll see that this… what we had, it’s a shadow.  An illusion.  Because love, real love, doesn’t come with caveats and catches.  It is an undeniable force which, in my case, even the boundaries of time and space can not deny.” Something like a sob burst out of Steve, and you were surprised to see tears in his eyes, “I was so wrong.  Could you ever forgive me?” “I want to, Steve.  I really do... “  What more could you say?  Patting his hand you started to rise, “I have to go now.  Loki and I need to keep moving and I don’t want to risk running into Nick and Natasha.  At least, not yet, anyway.” “Where are you planning to go?” “To the Avenger’s Tower.  I believe I know what Mr. Fury has been planning all along.”  Loki’s strong voice entered the conversation as smoothly as his arms wrapped possessively around your waist. Steve took in the protective stance of your returned lover with a raised eyebrow, and without further comment asked Loki, “Really?  And how are you going to breach the building?  They’ll be looking for you, even with disguises…  Fury is no fool.  Plus, there’s little chance that Tony hasn’t activated a million safety and security protocols by now.” Only interested in you, Loki refused to give Steve any of his attention, “Getting in can’t be that hard!  I’ll figure it out when I get there.  Ready pet?” With a gentle push under his broad hands your feet started to move towards the door.  Loki was eager to be off and away, especially after hearing so much of Roger’s confession.  Just knowing what Steve had done, manipulating you while also convinced of his love for you;  it was enough for Loki to commit murder.  He was having quite a difficult time not tearing the good Captain’s limbs off his body. Softening his tone, Steve practically pleaded, “Loki.  Wait.  I… I can help.” Turning his attention fully to your former flame, Loki purred venomously, “You can help?  I’d love to know what entails, Captain.” “I can get you into the place and take you exactly where you need to go.  Fury’s going to hate it, but I’m tired of taking orders that hurt the people that-”  His pause was as lingering as the look he gave you, “- That I love.”  Before Loki could offer a sincerely sassy reply you grabbed his sleeve, tugging, “Um… Excuse us a minute Steve.” Pulling him down the hall of a home that felt like a familiar faced stranger, you waited until you had a bit of distance from Steve before harshly whispering, “How long were you listening?”

Serving you that small, sexy smile, Loki grinned, “Long enough.  How did you know I was there?” “You are sneaky, but even you, God of Mischief, cast a shadow.” Swinging you close enough to catch your mouth with his own, Loki pressed a sweet kiss there before answering, “A mistake I will be careful not to make again!” “The tower, huh?  That’s where you want to go?”  Grabbing you at the swell of your hips, grinding his frame against your own, “Where I want to go, my darling, is to the nearest bed, preferably naked, with you and you alone.” Your hands traced over the lapels of his borrowed leather duster, pausing only to jerk him closer by the supple fabric, “Hmm… is that so?” “Oh yes…”  Loki’s buttery grumble filled your ear as his strong hands dug into the flesh of your bottom.  For a moment you thought he’d give in to temptation, his sweet lips teasingly close to your own upturned mouth, “But-” On your toes, leaning into Loki’s sturdy, leather draped frame, you paused, “Ugh.  But?” Moving you to a safer, less kissable, arms length away, Loki sighed with the same frustration you felt, “-But, where we need to go, as soon as possible, is the Tower.” Moaning grumpily, you stepped out of the arms you longed to linger in, “I was afraid you were going to say that.” “I know it’s less than… ideal, love, but I did find something useful before the good Captain unburdened his soul this morning.” “And that is?” “Fury’s plan.  At first I couldn’t figure out exactly what he was after.  What did Fury want?  How was I involved?” Loki was dragging this out, loving how it kept you hanging onto his every word, and you rolled your eyes, “Well?  What is it?  Weapons?  War?” “All of that, yes… and… yours truly.”  That triumphant smile that filled Loki’s whole face lit up his mischievous eyes.  Tilting your head, struggling to make sense of what Loki had just told you, “What do you mean, you.  Fury wanted you… to do what, exactly?’ “Loki was going to be the patsy.” You both turned toward the sound of Steve’s baritone at the door, suddenly remembering that the Good Captain was still there and that he was waiting to see what you were going to do next.  Leaning his 100 year old bones into the doorframe, Steve crossed his arms, “The fall guy.  An example of what happens if you cross SHIELD.” “I think, my dear Mr. Rogers, that you mean, I am to be used as an example of what happens if one crosses Nick Fury.”  Loki countered, slinging an arm over your shoulder protectively. The idea was frightening.  A man like Fury had too much power, too much at his disposal.  Just knowing the lengths he had gone to in order to keep you and Loki apart was scary enough.  Making enemies of your friends.  Threatening the people you loved.  Selling your affection to Steve in an effort to control Loki.

Now, the knowledge that all of it was done in an effort to ensure that Nick Fury was the toughest guy in the galaxy, it made your stomach clench.  “What do you mean, an example?” “Unless my intelligence is flawed, I believe that Fury was going to kill me.  Is that correct, Captain?” Steve felt the weight of two sets of eyes on him.  Yours, full of fearful love and blind hope that this was all just some misunderstanding.  Innocent and naive and as lovely as he could ever remember.  Loki’s were reflecting a deeper understanding.  The kind of knowledge that only time in the trenches teaches. There was no answer from Captain Rogers.  None was needed.  Honesty, final and resolute, was out in the open.  “Look.  I know I’m not the guy you want on your side.  I’ve… I haven’t been the man I needed to be.  Not for you-”  Steve locked his bright blues onto you, offering a small smile that spoke of sadness before facing Loki, “-Or you, Loki.  But if you let me help you now, I promise that I can get you into the tower and maybe, one day, you won’t think so little of me.” 

Around you the morning gained strength.  Somewhere nearby birds chirped wildly, blissfully unaware of the drama unfolding in the modest little farmhouse and its implications on intergalactic politics.  Without  moving a muscle, Loki plainly asked you, “Do you trust him, dearest?” Squaring your shoulders, you crossed your arms, staring down the man called Captain America.  Nodding decisively, “I do.  I don’t think he’d spill everything like that only to turn on us.  He’s not so bad Loki, really.” “We’ll see about that.  For now, we trust Steve.  Ok, what’s your plan, Rogers?” --- “Hey.  I… I have one other thing to show you.”  Steve was dressed for action in his branded tactical gear, looking every inch the super soldier that Dr. Erskine envisioned. “Steve, we have to get moving.  Loki’s eager and -” “Just open it, ok?”  The envelope was thick with folded paper, the flap tucked under and not sealed.  Clearly it had spent time in and out of pockets, the edges frayed and tattered.  In exasperated curiosity you gingerly pulled the sheets free.

Shaking, your hands trembled holding the once white documents as your voice thickened, “Is this… is this what I think it is?” Cocking his head playfully, that rueful smile pulling at his full mouth, Steve almost seemed cheerful as he teased, “It’s yours.  I think something about this place has always been yours and I want you to have it.” “But-” Folding your small hands in his mighty ones, Steve squeezed gently, “It was a wedding present, or it was supposed to be.” “But we’re not getting married.” “I know.  Still-” “I can’t, Steve.  It’s yours.  Your house, your farm, your dream.” Shaking his head, disagreeing, but feeling lighter than he had in decades, Steve insisted, “Too late, I’m afraid.  It’s done.  Actually, that version of the deed has been signed since our second week here.” As realization sunk in you appraised the man changing right before your eyes, astonished but exhilarated, “Where will you go?” “I dunno.  Think I might need to be alone for a bit.  Maybe see the world… but first-” “First, we have to stop Nick Fury.”

To Be Continued... My Minxes:   @scrumptious-finicky-illusion @iamverity​ @mizfit2​ @sammy-jo1977​ @wolfsmom1​ @jessiejunebug​ @iluvsumbucky​ @unadulteratedwizardlove​ @procrastinatinglikeabitch​ @shxdowofdarkness​ @nonsensicalobsessions​ @ahintofkiwistrawberry​ @alexakeyloveloki​ @rorybutnotgilmore​ @crystalizedcaramel​ @lokislittlecorner​ @capcapcapsicle @jamielea81​ @caffiend-queen​ @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore​ @jenjen8675309​ @that-one-person​ @roguewraith​ @toomanystoriessolittletime​ @vodka-and-some-sass​ @just-random-obsessions​ @brokenthelovely​ @lots-of-loki​ @thefallenbibliophilequote​