#i've tried to be more thoughtful about discussing my illness on here for the past year or two

[baurutruffle]

Let's go!

1. I'm a therian.

2. Crocodile, torn between Mugger crocodile and Siamese crocodile.

3. The most common shifts are mental and phantom shifts. My phantom shifts include tail, snout, the "horns" (which basically are ears), hands/feet, belly and the general flat shape when laying down on my belly. My mental shits often mean the urge to bask in the sun with my mouth open, do the death roll or make sounds like hissing or the like. Occasionally, I have the urge to turn around and snap or slide back into water, too. My oddest cameo shift? Wings. They make no sense but they're funny and feel nice.

4. I sometimes imagine my body to be a crocodile on two legs, interacting with other animals rather than humans. Sometimes, I'm just constantly tired and need to recharge by simply laying around or sitting in the sun. Sunlight is extremely important. Despite me being a mammal - a human - in this life, I sometimes feel like I depend on the warmth and the UV light of the sun more than anyone else. When I choose my meal, it gotta include good meat and veggies (yes, crocs eat veggies and fruits). While most women (and many men) see a sharp jawline as crucial for beauty, I like a slight double chin which I think might come from my crocodile self where we all have a kind of a double chin. A good trait of my body is the robust build. I'm not chunky or something but on a healthy side with small stubby hands which resemble my crocodile hands. And this makes me feel very comfy at times. Guess I had some luck there to look a bit crocodilian in my human body. c;

Though, what makes me feel weird at times are my boobies. They're... big. As a reptile, I often look down and think: "Wth, what's this? Oh, yea... right." Reptiles don't have such. The same goes with other things which I won't talk about here for the safety of the minors on this platform.

When someone's annoying the hell outta me, I have the urge to either retreat in a water body or chomp them or hiss at them. Usually, I'm very disciplined and can avoid following my urges in a social setting but sometimes a deep rumble leaves my throat either way.

Those are just a few slight insights. But I'll happily talk about more of my experiences in my everyday life, if you're interested.

5. I've been part of the community for over a decade. It should be 16 years soon. Over the years, I witnessed a lot. I really like the side where we all peacefully talk about our experiences and discuss about terms and the usage of those etc. The downside on the other hand looks way deeper. Gatekeeping, unwanted grilling, excluding young alterhumans, hate and more. After all, I think if we focus on the positive sides of the community, it's a fairly nice one. We should build up some more of the neutral, peaceful side. We're all sitting in the same boat - nonhumans living a human life and trying to make the best of it. Following the construct of self-care to not lose our minds in-between all these humans where a big part still sees us with despise and hatred. The community has its potential for the good and the bad.

6. Inclusion. I'm most euphoric to be able to say that I'm not alone and not mentally ill simply for identifying as something nonhuman. For believing in having been a crocodile in my past life and still carrying this part of me with me. I am a crocodile and that's completely valid. As a rational person (by law) who grew up not showing too many emotions and letting go of feelings and the like, I tried to find a reason for all these experiences and thought I was just mentally ill for seeing myself as a crocodile. I read plenty of books, went to a couple psychologists and tried to "treat" away this side of me. But the community took me back on the ground and helped me understand what was actually happening. Now I'm 29, have two jobs (social worker and firefighter), pay taxes and all these weird human things and I can still say I'm myself. I gained so much self-confidence and became more self-conscious over the years. I did have my downfalls in the community as well but it still caught me and helped me back up on my feet. Now I can say out proudly that I'm a crocodile. Thank you for that, dear alterhumans!

7. I experience species dysphoria a lot after all. While most four-legged mammals can simply walk on all fours and feel at ease doing so, it doesn't feel that right for me. I can't do this slumber walk and have a heavy tail being dragged over the ground. I can't eat like a crocodile with this weak human mouth and this weirdly shaped face. If a tooth is broken, it won't just fall out and grow back but has to be repaired and treated carefully afterwards. My boobies, which I mentioned above. I have no scales and can't swim like a crocodile. I don't have a third eyelid. My claws are weak and soft.

Many many things make me feel species dysphoria. Though, it's fine. I accept those feelings and do my best with that. I got to the nail manufacturer and let them make me grey relatively pointy nails. I have the possibility to get tattoos. I can swim and dive as a human just as fine. You name it.

8. Don't rush it! I made this mistake which left me in an identity crisis for 11 years! Let it go, live your life, embrace your existence. If you're like me, a journal can help as well. Keep track of your experiences. And don't compare yourself to others. You might not know what you are right now and it might take years to find out for sure but this is what you have in advance. You're able to learn so much about yourself and educate yourself more on many levels which those who know what they are since they can think don't most of the time. Take the part where you have to read about so many animals and dive into zoology so hard that you can consider yourself a little nerd (lovingly). Take the patience that you need. Or maybe learning about many facettes and their correlation to your nonhumanity. Of course, those who know their true self since the very beginning can learn about these as well but you still do it on an absolutely different level. Enjoy it! And if you need help, don't hesitate to ask for help.

9. I don't have any gear yet but would love to have some. Though, I wouldn't know what I could get. Maybe you have some ideas.

10. Theoretically, such experiences and self-portraying as animals or other nonhuman creatures takes us back to the first humans with the spiritual and religious side. We have evidence of humans from the Paleolithic time to self-portray as animals, that's been about 40,000 years ago. Zoologic art has been found that may represent the earliest known form of anthropomorphism. I like to see that as the beginning of nonhuman identities. And maybe humans were identifying as nonhuman even before that or at least have very special connections to animals which could be seen as otherhearted or even as an identity already. Several religions, thelogies and spiritual beliefs practice animal related rituals and the like way before civilization. I think we could root alterhumanity there already.

11. I don't tag individuals but let everyone decide for themselves, if they want to partake in such fun things or not. So, go ahead!

If you are a alterhuman, reblog and answer these questions!

(don't be afraid to write a lot, do what you want ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯)

1/ Which category of alterhumanity do you belong to?

2/ What/who is/are your type(s)? (if you have any)

3/ Do you experience shifts? If so, can you tell us your most common shifts and your strangest cameo shift (if you've ever had a cameo shift)?

4/ How do you experience your alterhumanity in everyday life?

5/ What do you think of the community?

6/ What are the things that make you most comfortable and euphoric in your alterhumanity?

7/ Are you experiencing species dysphoria?

8/ What advice would you like to say to a young alterhuman who has just awakened?

9/ Do you have/want to have gears?

10/ Do you know/have any theories about the origin of your alterhumanity? If so, tell us! (all beliefs are legitimate)

11/ Tag someone/a creature to answer these questions!ㅤᵕ̈

[tcookies777]

Where I am now

Many of you have left such kind comments and sent me messages out of concern for my wellbeing. For that, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. I also appreciate your patience as I understand it can be difficult to wait months for a chapter update on a long, tedious fic such as The Anatomy of Love. Your patience for this story is always sincerely appreciated.

I've been struggling for months to find the right words to say. To decide whether to express the ache in my heart or draw lines and stay silent. But while a part of me wishes to say little to nothing on the matter out of a sense of shame, the better part of me recognizes that conversations like the one I'm about to raise are something that needs to be discussed more. If only to raise awareness of the topic or help destigmatize it. If only to normalize issues like these. If only to just help someone else who might be going through a dark period in their life as well.

It's here that I'll give a final warning of the sensitive topics of this post. So feel free to turn away now if the topic of mental illness might be upsetting.

Trigger warning: suicide and mental illness

Ok, so here goes....

My sister committed suicide. I won't go into details of course, but it was not peaceful or quiet - it was violent, gruesome, and excruciatingly painful. So much so that the police thought it might've been a murder and harshly investigated us, making everything more difficult and traumatizing than it already was.

She had battled with depression for nearly 2 decades, deteriorating far beyond recognition. We had grown estranged over the years of my childhood because she pushed loved ones away, blaming them for the way she turned out but also still relying on them to survive. An awful cycle of codependency.

I myself have been battling with high-functioning depression for the past decade, which is one reason why I struggle to respond to people's messages. From readers, friends, and family alike. I, too, have an issue of pushing people away. Because I'm ashamed for them to see how broken my life is. Because I have seen the way people judge you for having a mental illness. I have witnessed friends, family, and even Healthcare workers gaze upon the mentally ill as if they are a sore sight.

To be honest, I understand both sides; it can also be frustrating to pool all your time, effort and resources into trying to help someone who does not want to be helped. It burns you out. That despite your efforts to fight for that person, they do not fight for themselves and you're forced to watch them deteriorate in a slow, agonizing process.

"At the beginning, you’ll do your best to shoulder all my burdens. At the beginning, you’ll be strong about it. But over time, you’ll come to regret it—you'll come to regret me, and the burden that I have become to you." — Kakashi, Chapter 30 of The Anatomy of Love

On the other side, it's hard to take that step to accept the help offered to you. It's hard to find the strength to meet your loved ones halfway and help them to help you when you hardly have the strength to even get out of bed. Yet, you also feel guilty because it feels as if you are just dragging down those around you.

These are the feelings Kakashi expresses to Sakura in Chapter 30, when he tries to explain the reasons why they cannot and should not pursue a relationship. Guilt and self-loathing are the feelings that have been eating me up inside for years, as they ate at my sister as well.

We were born from a loveless, violent marriage. So we didn't know how to love each other, though we did whether we wanted to or not. Likely it was the trauma that bonded us. But put together, my sister and I were oil and water. Loving someone who is your family but is practically a stranger to you is incredibly difficult and taxing.

Yet, I understood completely. You just don't know how to show love to someone when you were never given love.

But despite my estrangement from my sister, I still love her. Being a 1st generation American often means you have nothing but your family. When you have no house, no savings, no relatives to turn to - just your immediate family - it can be a toxic, tough love where you have only that person whether you like them or not. And in Asian culture, family is especially everything even when it's completely dysfunctional.

So why am I updating TAOL now?

It's mostly for myself. Because it's my own comfort fic that allows me to engage in therapeutic writing. It's a story of loneliness and love of all forms (romantic, sexual, familial, etc). More importantly, it's a story about finding family, finding love, and finding home. Something that I've yearned for all my life.

And it's a story of pursuing happiness even when you think you don't deserve it. It's a story that shows good coping mechanisms and bad coping mechanisms and their consequences. It's a story of picking yourself up by the bootstraps even when you just want to sit and wallow in despair. And it's also a story of embracing the love of those around you and taking their hands when they reach out to you and offer their support.

At its core, The Anatomy of Love is a story about fighting loneliness, self-hatred, guilt, and mental illness with love. With the love of friends and family. And with the love for yourself. Because while it's important to have a strong support system to love and look out for you, it is just as important to love yourself and really put in the effort to take care of yourself. And sometimes that means being ""selfish"" and prioritizing yourself over others.

Why am I saying all this?

I'll admit, I'm uncomfortable revealing the skeletons in my closet to strangers online where everyone can judge and share my secrets. I'm embarrassed to admit that TAOL's themes are projections of my own desires, and for people to know that I write about such things in fanfic because of the fact that I don't have them. But I'm just too insecure to talk to anyone 1 on 1. Not to mention that, unfortunately, it's not that simple to just go to therapy (especially when the healthcare system is broke here).

Most importantly, I hope that if there's anyone out there reading this and going through a shitty point in their lives as well... I hope you are able to take comfort in the fact that you are not alone in this. We individually have our own demons to fight, but we're all fighting the same battle.

I wish I could say it gets better, but there's honestly no guarantee. So many times, I've had to stop myself from telling patients "things'll get better" because that's a promise that we're taught never to make. The truth is no one knows if things really do get better. Personally, I haven't been feeling better at all. For most of my life, people have been telling me it gets better and to just be patient, but every year it actually gets worse and worse. And just when you think things are starting to look up, it instead gets even more worse.

It's tiresome waiting years for things to get better when it seems it's nowhere in sight.

But I'm trying my best to take it day by day. I do my best to get out of bed, go to work, take a proper shower, feed myself. I do my best to love myself - mostly out of fear that what little family I have will one day disappear and I will have no one left to love me. No one but myself.

But sometimes my best does not feel enough. Sometimes I hate myself more days than others.

That's okay, I tell myself. I hate myself today, but I will love myself tomorrow. I will forgive myself eventually. I can be happy eventually. One day at a time.

Because on my better days, I realize that not every person can afford to wait for things to get better. You have to be the one to take the initiative - get off your ass and take that step forward and make things better yourself. All the people around you can offer you all the help that you need, but the most important thing is that YOU have to want to help yourself.

So that's all I am able to say for now. I do apologize if my thoughts are a bit discombobulated. I am still struggling to find my feet when it feels like I'm still drowning under pounding waves of darkness. If you've read this far, I appreciate you taking the time to read this.

Meanwhile, I hope you guys can continue to enjoy reading The Anatomy of Love. The chapter is not entirely to my satisfaction due to the last minute revisions I made, but I wanted a sprinkle of happiness in the moment. I think that's something we all need.

Also, thank you for the messages you have sent me and the comments you left. I'm truly sorry I do not have the courage or strength to respond, but please know I am forever grateful and touched that people would reach out to a stranger like me.

Hope to see you soon,

TCOOKIES

[defyinggravity-elsa-rp]

Frozen 2 Letter to Disney Animation

((Two years ago, I wrote a letter to Disney Animation about my grievances with Frozen 2, and they recently wrote me back. I will include the response in another post, but since people were asking me what I wrote in the letter, I thought I would post it here. Buckle up, because it is long and unhinged. It also gets really personal, so bear with me.))

Dear Staff of the Walt Disney Animation Studios,

My name is Laura, and I am 33 years old. You probably don’t get a lot of letters from people my age, but my love for Disney movies never wanes as I grow older. I’ve been a fan for my whole life and grew up with the Renaissance films of the 90s. As an adult, Disney is one of my favorite sources of fantasy and escapism, and I love how complex and dynamic so many of your characters are. I actually began this letter at the beginning of 2020, and have been working on it for the past year and a half because I wanted it to be just right. It also required digging into deep emotions that aren’t always easy for me to handle, so that caused delays as well. My original draft was also seven pages long, so I had to condense it.

The reason I am writing to you is to discuss Frozen II. I am a HUGE Frozen fan, and it is my favorite Disney film next to Hercules. Elsa is my very favorite character, for so many reasons. I love that she was a flawed human who had magical powers instead of a stereotypically perfect super-heroine. I also see a lot of myself in her, and have connected with her deeply since I first saw the movie. I share a lot of her traits (like being artistic and introverted), but I also saw a lot of parallels between her story and my own life. When I was a kid, I got picked on and bullied by other kids, so I spent a lot of time alone and isolated. I was very different from everyone, because I didn’t follow trends and was very enthusiastic about my likes. I was also very sensitive and wore my heart on my sleeve, which made it more fun for bullies to target me. Many adults, including my own mother, often told me to not express my feelings or interests so that I couldn't give my tormentors things to pick on me about, so I literally had my own "Conceal, don't feel" instructions. Of course, even when I tried, my emotions were always written on my face and my parents often helicoptered over me trying to help, just like in the flashbacks of Elsa trying to control her powers in her youth.

I also have anxiety and depression, which is a huge reason why the first film resonated with me. I’ve always felt like Elsa’s magical outbursts were much like my emotional outbursts— I try to hold my emotions in, but they build up more and more until I explode, and then I just beat myself up for it and every other mistake I’ve made. Just like Elsa, I have a tendency to be very hard on myself and overanalyze every single thing I do, think, and say. When Jen Lee confirmed on Twitter that "It was important to show anxiety and depression in Elsa," I felt so seen. An openly mentally ill character in a Disney movie? It was a HUGE deal and provided such amazing representation, which is sorely needed because there's so much stigma with mental health. People don't understand depression and anxiety and are so quick to judge, so to have Elsa have those conditions is so very, very important. 

Over the past seven years, Elsa has been a huge source of comfort and joy for me, especially during the dark times. "Let it Go" has been a staple song on my life, reminding me to embrace my weirdness and not hold onto the past. "Monster" and "Dangerous to Dream" from the Broadway show are beautiful songs for when my mental illness acts up, because even though they're not the happiest songs, they're still therapeutic to sing. I've often referred to Elsa as my “comfort character," because she's been such a crutch for me for so long. Watching the film, reading fanfiction, drawing/looking at fan art, cosplaying Elsa, etc. was my favorite escape from the real world and from my own head during hard times.

When the sequel was announced, I was beyond ecstatic and had such a hard time waiting for so long, but I knew good stories take time. I ate up every book, comic, or short that was released over the years, because my appetite for Frozen was insatiable, and still is. However, I will be honest, while I did enjoy most of Frozen II, there were some things that left me feeling very let down and even heartbroken, and that is why I’m writing to you. I’d like to clarify that I'm not writing this letter to make demands or hurl insults. I know all of you put your hearts and soul into this film, and I have nothing but respect for everyone who worked on it. This is just a heartfelt, honest letter from a devoted fan who wants to see the Frozen franchise continue to thrive. I want more stories, and I want people to respond to them the way they did the first movie. I want more awards for the creators more good reviews, more success other than profits at the box office. I know I'm not your target audience at 33 years old, but I still hope you will hear my feedback.

I enjoyed most of the movie. The music, animation, scenery, and visual effects were BEAUTIFUL. I liked the implementation of Norse mythology and the lore that was set up, as well as the new characters, even though I feel like they could have used more screen time and development. I liked Anna’s arc, and Olaf’s recaps were hilarious. I adored seeing Elsa interact and connect with animals (like I do), because I always figured she probably didn’t handle them much in her youth, for fear of hurting them. I imagine she would love reptiles, like Bruni, because she probably knows what it's like to be feared and misunderstood. I also enjoyed seeing her heal and grow more confident in her powers, as well as seeing her sassy side. There are honestly a lot of good things to say about the film, and I loved the themes– I just feel like they could have been executed better. I’m so sorry if any of this comes off as rude.

My first issue is with the treatment of Hans, which is probably not something you hear often. (I’ve gotten a lot of judgement and grief from other fans for liking him.) I have always enjoyed him as a character, even though what he did was horrendous and I'm glad he failed. However, I still feel he has a lot of potential as a very dimensional character, and I completely believe he is redeemable. I know the book “A Frozen Heart” by Elizabeth Rudnick isn’t canon, but I feel she did a really good job of fleshing him out. Even from the bits we get on his backstory in the movie, I just feel like he was so desperate to get away from his family that he got carried away, versus just being completely evil and heartless. Whatever his canon backstory may be, it doesn’t excuse what he did, but I still believe he’s not so far gone that he can’t become a better person.

I was so excited when Santino Fontana said in an interview in 2015 that the writers told him they wanted to redeem him, and held onto that excitement for four years. So naturally, during the charades scene in F2, when Elsa called him an "unredeemable monster,” it felt like the writers were mocking those of us who wanted a redemption arc for him. I also don't understand why Elsa danced when she saw the memory of the Duke in Ahtohollan, then waved him off like he was a minor nuisance, but when she saw Hans, she had to break him immediately. Did the Duke not send two men to try to kill her in her ice castle? I feel like the Duke's villainy is often trivialized just to make Hans look worse so that he can be bashed harder. I really feel bad for Santino, because I know he wanted to come back, and frankly, I find it bizarre no one has addressed why he didn’t return, or even mentioned missing him during the press week and premiere interviews. Josh Gad is the only one who has mentioned wanting him back.

Again, I'm not making any demands here, I know you will do with Hans as you please, and I respect that. However, I do hope that you will consider a redemption arc for him again (without killing him, though. Please don’t give him the Kylo Ren/Ben Solo treatment). I know that it would be difficult, since many fans hate him, and it would have to be done slowly to be believable, but I know you have the talent to do it. Villain redemption doesn't happen much in Disney movies, so it could really be a groundbreaking thing to do, and would teach kids so many lessons about forgiveness and not holding grudges, as well as learning from their own mistakes. Kristoff was great because he taught people what non-toxic masculinity looks like, but Hans could take that further and teach them that toxic behavior can be unlearned— that no one is too far gone and that you don't have to be defined by the mistakes of your past. However, it needs to be apparent that it’s not Elsa or Anna’s job to change him— he must do the emotional labor for himself.

My other issue with this film is one that is common amongst the fan base, for many reasons, and that is the ending. This is actually the part of the letter I’ve had to condense the most, because I don’t want to go all Alexander Hamilton on you, so please bear with me. While I certainly understand the motivations behind the decision, to show that love outweighs distance, and the directors were inspired by their children leaving the nest, I still just don’t feel like it was appropriate for this particular franchise (nor was it in-character for Elsa at all). Not only is it a theme that is currently overdone in Disney films (it was also in Ralph Breaks the Internet and Toy Story 4), but it frankly retcons the theme of Frozen. The entire first movie was about reuniting sisters after thirteen years of separation, and then this one just goes to extreme lengths to separate them again. There are so many other ways you could have had the sisters gain some independence and follow new paths without turning Elsa into a nature spirit that lives in faraway woods with people she’s literally known for a day. (Anna can’t marry a man she just met, so why can Elsa live with people she just met?) She didn’t need a new home or personality to grow.

Sure, we’re told that the sisters keep in touch and visit, but we’re not shown. The sisters are still hundreds of miles apart in the last shot, which is what sticks in everyone’s minds. Also, shouldn’t Elsa and the Northuldra have been at the statue ceremony celebrating the coming together of the two lands? Especially since the statue is of Elsa's parents, so why wasn't she there? Even more painful is the fact that the books and magazine comics set after Frozen 2 (most of which have only been released in Europe and Asia) mostly feature Anna, Kristoff, Matthias, and Olaf. Elsa is only in a couple of them, and is barely mentioned in the ones she’s not in. It feels like she’s just a secondary character now, only coming in for occasional cameos, while the focus shifts on Anna and co. This franchise is supposed to be about the sisters being together, not one sister in Arendelle while the other is nowhere to be seen.

Many kids, from what I've heard, are also upset about the ending. Not only have I heard many stories of kids sobbing in theaters, but when I cosplayed Elsa at Katsucon in February 2020, I had a little boy who kept asking me why I "ran away from Anna again." It broke my heart and the only thing that made him stop asking was to tell him I was moving back home, but still visiting the forest. I felt so sad for him. My friend also cosplayed Elsa at a costume party and her friend’s kid started crying about Elsa leaving. I also read that the Elsa and Anna face characters in the Disney parks get asked a lot about the ending too, and Elsa has to say that she visits Arendelle every day to comfort them. Face characters shouldn’t have to comfort kids about the ending of the film their characters are in.

I also don't understand why it was necessary for Elsa to stay in the woods, especially if she can hear the spirits calling to her in Arendelle, and that the Nokk allows her to travel quickly between the two lands. Why couldn't she bring the Nokk and Bruni back to Arendelle with her, and just visit the forest? (Gale and the Rock Giants could come and go as they please.) Couldn’t she have gotten her own place on the fjord, if she didn't want to live in the castle? I understand that the purpose of the ending was to allow Elsa to be free and find her own place in the world, but I feel like giving her a position of divinity and having her move into the forest with people she just met is much too drastic of a stretch, like taking a yard of tape when you only need an inch. 

Elsa living in the forest also, unfortunately, sends the unintentional message that people who are different, introverted, mentally ill, etc., like Elsa and myself, don't belong in modern society or with our families, and are better off living away from them (not that indigenous culture is inferior– it's just different). I know that's certainly not the message you meant to send, but it still comes off that way. As someone with a mental illness and relates to Elsa so much, I felt so alienated by the ending.

Of course, the part of it that bothers me most is Elsa's characterization during the entire scene. It feels like everything about her was completely changed to make her fit the ending (which I know was written first.) There was no indication in any short, comic, book, etc. that showed us she was still holding herself back or was unhappy in Arendelle. (Anna literally sings at the end of the Broadway show, “Elsa, you’re free!”) It feels like the first film told us, "Elsa learned to let go of her fears and embrace her true self and powers, and still found belonging with her kingdom and family,” and then the second film tells us, "But wait! That's not who Elsa *really* is, this is her TRUE TRUE self, and now she belongs in the magic forest because of her magic! It’s her destiny!” It’s like her powers have become her entire personality instead of a part of her. I feel like the Elsa I’ve known, loved, and clung to for the past seven years is gone. Of course, I expect her to evolve and grow, but this doesn’t feel consistent with her character. Growth and maturity don’t change your core personality like that. A lot of people, including myself, feel more disconnected from her than ever, because she feels like this unrelatable Christ-like figure on a pedestal, instead of a human with magical powers. She doesn't feel like she's on our plane anymore. 

Even the way she talks and carries herself is completely different. She talks so slowly at the end, like an all-knowing goddess as she tells Anna all that she’s learned, and it’s just unsettling. She also doesn’t seem to make her own choices or learn from any of her mistakes. Not only did she tell Anna, "The spirits decided Arendelle should stand with you," which is deus-ex-machina (divine intervention) in a nutshell, but when Honeymaren tells her, "You belong up here!" she just agrees immediately without a second thought. I do like her stepping down as queen, but it should have been presented as her choice, not just because the spirits and the memory of Idunna told her she was fated to be something else all along. (Also, if the issue in the beginning was about her wanting to choose her own path and do more than just be queen, then how is another predetermined fate any better? She's not making her own choices, she's just a vessel at this point for the spirits’ agenda, which takes away her agency.) The trailers before the movie came out made it sound like the story was going to be about Elsa finding a middle ground between her humanity and her powers, but instead it was about how she needed to go too far into her magic because she’s “the chosen one.” 

I know it’s just a movie and I shouldn’t be this distraught over it, especially a year and a half later. I actually started therapy the weekend after the movie came out because I knew that my reaction was indicative of much larger problems. While I have been working on those problems and have been doing better, I still feel disconnected from Elsa, and it still hurts. I miss her. She and the other characters have been there for me over the past seven years when real people couldn’t be bothered, and now I feel like my favorites have been ripped away. Again, I am not here to tell you what to do with your movies, nor are you responsible for my mental health, but I still hope you understand and will consider my feedback.

If there are more Frozen stories (I personally would like a Disney+ series, which would allow for more content and development than a movie), I hope that not only does Hans get a redemption arc (and belonging/friendship with the other characters) as I previously stated, but that I get my relatable, flawed, human Elsa back. I hope she’ll move back to Arendelle (with at least Bruni and the Nokk), but of course, still visit the forest frequently and stay close with the Northuldra. She and Anna should definitely explore their heritage more, and I really would love to learn more about the Northuldra characters. I really hope to see a story about her learning to balance her magic with her humanity, to find that middle ground. To have this “Yes, I have great power, but I’m still human” lightbulb moment. I basically just want exploration of the characters as humans, with their strengths and weaknesses, with their good days and the bad, and how they tackle things together, not just by sending letters via Gale Mail. (Especially with the pandemic still happening, seeing these sisters physically together would really lift some spirits. There are enough long-distance sisterhoods in real life, we don’t need them in our fairy tales.) 

Thank you so much for taking the time to read this still-too-long letter. (I promise, I tried so hard to keep it under three pages, but I failed.) I know that a woman my age should not be this invested in a Disney movie, and you may even be thinking, “This lady is crazy!” (You wouldn’t be wrong.) I also know you’re going to do with the franchise and the characters what you see fit— again, I don’t expect you to cater to me or my wishes. I just love your characters and your world so much and I hate how upset Frozen II makes me. I feel like the ending, as well as the silence from the creators of the film, have just left us fans hanging. I don’t want you to hear the criticism and think, “Oh, well I guess people are sick of Frozen, let’s not touch it again.” I want more Frozen, I need more Frozen. Again, I’m so sorry if I sound rude or demanding. I really hope to see more of my beloved sisters and their friends (including a redeemed prince) very soon. I hope to feel everything good that the first film made me feel. Thank you again for listening to me. I wish you all the very best.

Your Loyal Fan,

Laura

[ramblingvents]

Therapy ramble (discussion of suicidal ideation and aborted suicide attempt but ends with me talking about how I'm feeling more safe in treatment)

Man so I have the worst seasonal depression - it always starts in like September and goes on till roughly February. And I always have dissociation and suicidal ideation every single year so bad I genuinely don't remember a lot of it unless I read my journals from that time.

This has been happening since I was 10 and this year when I started therapy I decided that I was going to find someone trained in DBT (since that's one of the therapies that works for suicidal thoughts) and not lie or omit anything as much as possible.

And I've actually stuck to that pretty well. I have told my therapist when I feel suicidal, how much it escalates, any plans my brain comes up with, etc, when last year I was unwilling to even talk about it enough to make a safety plan.

It literally got to the point where I made an AITA for making a safety plan (in February) and telling my friends I'm suicidal (which I did tell one friend as a result even though I largely ignored the 99% of people telling me expressly to tell people).

I aborted an attempt last April when I was in a particularly dark place due to grief and life stuff.

I didn't tell anyone for 4 months and lied about any evidence of it and everyone close to me believed me. It was giving me serious PTSD flashbacks, especially when I was pretty isolated this summer, and also especially with my living arrangement as I'm in the same on-campus apartment, in the same room.

I forced myself to ask my therapist if it was something she could treat in the first session. Tried to make progress with ADHD, it didn't work out super well because the combo of meds making it so I couldn't sleep and lack of good habits. I missed assignments and got so overwhelmed I couldn't focus on them. So it got to mid-semester and ideation started again. And I contacted the crisis line and told my therapist. And I answered in detail when she asked what plans I had considered. So I've been talking to her about things that can help and letting her know when it's been worsening these past couple weeks. Wednesday I told her all I can remember of the previous aborted attempt.

Also this week, I talked to my doctor and she suggested starting Wellbutrin for ADHD because Adderall does help me focus but I have insomnia and the mood swings are pretty bad. Unfortunately one of the side effects of Wellbutrin is also suicidal thoughts (primarily because it gives you energy before giving you an elevated mood). So I tell my therapist this and she's like "okay you can give it a shot but I will do regular checkups for the next week". So that's what I've been doing now, while also trying to get energy to catch up on assignments and talking to both my academic affairs person and accomodations person.

And it's just really weird?!? I'm not used to being honest about it, I've spent half of my life finding ways to self-soothe and avoid telling my friends or parents. But I feel like talking about it and just reporting everything I feel with honesty is helping a lot. And having her be like "okay so here's stuff you should do, and you know this is situational/you've been through this before and gotten out of it" is also very helpful because it feels less like death is an objective truth I'm trying to deny and more like I'm trying to treat a chronic illness.

It's not "I'm suicidal and I'm awful for feeling that way and if I say anything I'll get hospitalized and worry people unnecessarily and I'm gonna feel like this for the rest of my life, so I need to either cope better or die right now" like it has been in the past it's more like "my brain very much wants to escape the current situation and I'm having a hard time finding a way through it/conceptualizing next steps. I haven't slept a lot and I've spent a lot of time alone this semester because my friends graduated and are now in another city which has worsened my mental health/ability to focus and emotionally regulate. There are things I can try that might help me feel better and improve the situation. I might not be able to do all of them and they may not all help but there are actions I can take and there are people I can go to for help, and trying to do that matters even if I don't end up liking the outcome."

I'm just really grateful to be able to be honest about it and actually get help. It feels like the first time I haven't been trying to deal with it alone.

[elskamo]

UK Gov Still Hates Me, Even With A Job I Can't Afford To Live

So since I finally managed to find work DWP got in touch to check I'm still disabled and have limited capacity to work. Despite having more than enough evidence that my health has worsened in the past few years (e.g. finally having a diagnosis for endometriosis and the chronic pain/fatigue/fainting/vomiting it causes on a regular basis) and having employers outright tell me they won't hire me because of specific health conditions being a health and safety risk (e.g. dissociation and chronic pain) I've now been told that my health problems in no way affect my ability to work when that is clearly not the case (the only reason I knew they were phoning to discuss my health was because I was too ill to go to work that day!) As a result my benefit payment for this month is nothing because they're under the impression that working 27 hours a week on minimum wage is enough to live on (it really isn't).

Getting a second job locally is near impossible at the moment, let alone finding one I'm physically able to do. I've tried freelancing websites but I'm constantly priced out because of people on there selling services for only a couple pounds an hour. As a result I've put a couple of polls up here and here to ask about potentially selling some merch. I've had Redbubble up for a long time but only made one sale so if I can manage it and there's demand I'm gonna try making some physical merch to sell. I do have more designs to add but the transition to physically going out to work every day has taken a bigger toll on me than I thought it would, I'm spending most of my time outside of work sleeping and/or being sick so getting my fandom shit together is taking longer than expected. For that reason I'm also not feeling quite ready to take on commissions yet but am hoping to do so at some point soon if possible.

I've done my best to fill out the online form for affordable housing but the application process takes around 12 weeks and on average people with the highest priority need don't find accomodation for at least a year, people lower down on the list take even longer. I'm gonna attempt to find help this week for gathering all the evidence documents I need as well as fighting the DWP about my benefits case. Absolute worst case scenario is that I'll have to go stay at the local shelter if I can't get my funds up and find somewhere safe to go either when my mum moves or if the situation here escalates and becomes physically abusive again.

[storybookprincess]

okay so like on one hand my chronic illness has been an enormously positive force for me & the majority of the things i currently value about myself & my life are a direct result of my experience with it & my absolute worst health periods have consistently turned out also to be my biggest periods of personal growth & i’ve reached the point where i sometimes feel that gratitude even in the moments of particularly acute symptoms because i know that i will continue to use the experience to change for the better

but like on the other hand shitty body feel real bad

[perceremade]

Love when people get mad at others for only liking LIS1... Sorry that the other games are like actually bad even though it gets shit on the most by people making half hour long videos that clearly prove that they missed the point and why its so special to people in the first place. Also LIS2 failed in it's mission of discussing racism properly and the voice acting isn't pleasant and it's romances are horrible and the rest of the game, while not bad, I love daniel and seans relationship.. Is still kinda mid in comparison to the first game, it had such a powerful and beautiful meaning and story that I dont think it ever needed a sequel. Then comes before the storm, which while not bad, kind of butchered rachel as a character for me, and just manipulated more people into not seeing her as what she's meant to be, a complicated person that has done harm and shouldn't be put on a pedestal, a teenager whos just trying to live and follow her dreams and has so much weight on her shoulders and shes just clinging onto another teenager whos just as ill as her and needing to fill the void of her past friendship while both desperately want to get out of that town, now being seen more as that perfect girlfriend that chloe thought she was when they were never together at all, and actually, before the storm isn't fully at fault here, rather the players perception of the game, there are many metaphors including the train track scene and the play they used that are like Hey they arent the healthiest. but in the end, they loved each other, in some strange way that hurt both of them in the end making it bittersweet in a way that I enjoy.. And I just dont like prequels that much, but it was fun enough to replay 2 or 3 times. Then there's true colors.. While fun and enjoyable and sweet and Alex's story was done decently, not as impactful as LIS1 in my opinion.. They tried but it wasn't executed very well. It's not as entertaining, and feels a bit.. shallow, the relationships she had with other characters didn't feel as meaningful.. and I don't know how I feel about her empathy powers. the emotional parts of the story regarding alex and her backstory were good at least.. that has nothing to do with my nostalgia for the first game because I like it more now than I did before even if I was already a megafan back in 2015 as it was coming out, but rather how hard they tried to replicate it without actually knowing the parts of the game that people love the most and taking it into account.. it could've been brilliant but just doesn't have the first game's spark.. It's basically an imitation of its predecessor, without really having the parts that made it wonderful. But it wasnt Bad, definitely a bit better than LIS2, because it's personally the type of game I like more since it was more grounded.. and also it doesn't have ... Sucky discussions of racism that were poorly written and which I, a latino, dont really like seeing.. while also letting you date a white adult with dreads. LIS1 is so special I could go on about it for hours, I think being like "you just like it because it has lesbians in it" really discredits it.. of course most LIS1 fans like pricefield, they are..the focus of the game? Not liking them most likely ruins the experience a little and judging by the youtube videos I've watched and the people I've talked to most people have stupid reasons to not like them that can be easily dismissed because they turn Max into the manipulated small baby and Chloe into the evil angry woman who abuses her when they take care of each other equally as much as they can throughout the whole game and love each other deeply, but anways.. Their relationship, their friendship, their love.. along with all the other things like Rachel's disappearance and her time travel and the storm, discussions of grief, and mental health if you ignore Nathan, while having other imperfect characters that are still generally likeable.. I think it handled most things prety decently.

it's just a stupid point to use against it, the "you only like it cuz it's gay" thing.. Because, you can be gay in the other games even though in lis2 it fucking sucks not because it's mlm to be clear but both romances feel so dry and empty and I hate finn as a character, and also, not all people are annoying tumblr users who only recommend media because of gay people being in it without mentioning anything else. also, not to be terminally online but it ends up making you look lesbophobic even though most annoying people probably do overlook the story even in regards to chloe and max's relationship and only care about the fact that theyre gay. it almost wasnt even a gay romance because of the publishers denying a female saphic-coded protagonist and saying it'd be better to make her a male.. so it's sad to see people say that. Love stories can be powerful and their's was executed beautifully, in my opinion, both their platonic and romantic love (which to be clear are both there no matter whether you choose to romance chloe or not they still love each other they just dont do many advances lol sucks to be a chloe anti when max is talking about her like a lovesick 12 year old in her journal all day 🤣).. and I love everything else about the game too, the lovely scenery and the lighting from the original game since the remaster butchered it even though it was one of my favorite parts, the music, the characters (I love dana and her friend, I love kate, I love warren to some extent despite his creepiness, alyssa is so sweet, victoria is a personal fave of mine, rachel is so complex and I love her for that, etc)... the time travel elements as I mentioned earlier including the timeline stuff which was cool as hell and all of the photography references being in there because of Max's passion as well as one of the creator's own love for photography, and honestly even if I complain about the ending because it makes everything meaningless I think it's cool in a way because of that.. Idk how to explain it. Sometimes in life you have to make odd and hard choices like that. (even though we all know the truth this isnt a biased perspective I'm just being observational and it's obvious what max would choose even if the game pretends theres no right choice.. she's not really very self inserty of a protagonist having her own motivations and dreams that are very clear and that's something that's often overlooked that I love about her, her quirky personality and the things she says while it may make others cringe is so endearing to me, even though her personality is clearly shaped to be relatable to most players. she's also an antihero anyways, so.. bay ending isn't unrealistic basically.. it's better to make a whole other post about that some other day.) There are many smarter things I could say but I wont talk about them in this post

[darkling-er]

the ephemeral radio. joshua crane investigates a town filled with ghosts of the past, present and future. though one can almost find proof of the non-existence of the paranormal, the little town is the exception for it.

content warning for the entire story: mention of child abuse, mental illness, violence, discussion of suicide, drug use, cadaver and gore.

[masterpost]

Casette no.I. [1K]

Silence lays heavily on the small manx town of Ephemeral. The streetlamps, that look a lot like old gas lamps, but since then renovated to be electrical, are illuminating the town square. There's not a single soul outside, not after the disappearance of Margarethe Shelley.

It's past midnight, as the clock on the library tower says, and as such as this time means that the teenagers and the odd folk of Ephemeral are intently listening to their radios.

"Local police announced they're still on the lookout for the beast that has been spreading fear throughout the entire town. And that has claimed four victims since Friday night.

Authorities asked to remain indoors until the creature has been captured and the curfew is lifted.

You're listening to 102.3, the Ephemeral Frequency, all night, every night." The calming, yet eerie voice of the Host announces his intro for the night. A soft and short tune follows, as they usually do in podcasts and radio stations, and then the Host continues.

"Unfortunately, against the usual method, you need to leave a message for now, if you have any stories to tell about your encounters with the supernatural. Because tonight I have prepared something different for you. We have a very special guest joining us tonight, basically a celebrity since her disappearance from town."

The man says with an excited voice into the microphone as he hangs up an incoming call to the radio. He looks at the woman infront of him, bound to the wooden chair by ropes.

"Margarethe Shelley, an outsider, not so long ago, am I correct?"

"What is this?! Why am I here?!" The young woman answers in a panicked voice, just woken up from her forced dream. She can barely remember where she was or how she got here. She tries against her bonds but to no avail.

The Host doesn't even acknowledge her existence as he continues his monologue.

"Say hello to the audience, Margarethe."

Of course the young woman doesn't reply. She remembers the man from somewhere, but she can't quiet put a finger on it. She barely lived in this town anyway, only arrived a couple of months ago. Her employer sent her there to investigate the strange phenomenas, that's been rumored to happen around this strange old town.

"You know, Margarethe, there has been a lot of speculations about what has really brought you to Ephemeral. No one knows exactly for sure what you were doing here or why, not even our dear mayor, but there have been a lot of theories and rumors."

She scoffs, her blonde hair falling into her face as she angrily replies.

"There's no mystery. I'm only here because of my work. I was doing renovations of old books in the local library."

"Oh is that right?" The man counters quickly with a mocking tone. "The librarian didn't know anything about this mystery renovation of yours."

"My employer is someone else." She bites back bitterly.

"And whom might that be?"

"That's confidential." She says and there's a couple seconds of silence between the two.

The Host smiles and it scares the woman.

"Of course, I understand... yet people have wondered when you left so suddenly, without any warning. Even missing person posters have been put up all over town."

"I wasn't missing." She replies shortly, still there's a sudden change in her voice. No more vice, no more bitterness, only sadness.

The Host knows the reason and he smiles with a grin and continues.

"Oooh, I know. But there have been other missing person reports. Children, barely old enough to leave their house by their own."

"I've had nothing to do with that, please. I'm begging you... I was going to go home to my family, they're surely missing me by now, if I don't return-"

"But of course your family can be glad, because you're not really missing. Unlike the children, brutally attacked and murdered by some beast."

There's silence again before a few tears slide down on the woman's cheeks.

"Please." Is her only reply.

The Host opens his desks' drawer and pulls out a silver revolver, already loaded and he points it at Miss Shelley. She sobs as she closes her eyes.

"If there's anyone listening, come to the radio station please, I'm begging you-"

"Of course, but the children were begging as well, I bet." The Host replies coldly without emotion.

The room is suddenly illuminated, not only by the few neon signs, but the moon as well.

"What's happening?!" An afraid shriek leaves the woman as she starts to shake in the chair, her whole body feeling like it's on fire.

"Margarethe, thank you for being here tonight. This month's celebrity in Ephemeral. We wish you safe travels home... the raining has stopped, the weather is clearing and we featured Miss Margarethe Shelley on The Ephemeral Frequency. We'll be right back, stay tuned."

XXX the radio remained silent for almost an entire minute, as the music was cut off suddenly - note, by J.C.

"We heard from the authorities, and the creature has finally been captured. Our next song is dedicated to them.

The creature has been identified as a wolf, and has been brought down by our brave officers. The victims of this creature are forever in our memories and we keep their families in our thoughts.

I suggest, my dear listeners, you stay inside tonight, though it stopped raining and the last full moon of august is brightly shining...

You know what they say... if there is one wolf, there is usually more around the area.

You have been listening to the Ephemeral Frequency, I'm your Host, and as always, I'll be here for you all night, every night."

tag: @seldomabsent

[amoralto]

I've been reading your posts from the past year, and I have to ask: Why do you even do this blog? Why put so much time and energy into writing about Paul's relationship with somebody you don't like? I'm serious here. Every snippet you post about John, every comment you write about him, is critical. If you truly believe John deserves all the blame in the relationship, while Paul is the sainted victim, you have a right to your opinion. But I think the truth is much more complex.

My spontaneous and simplistic response to this ask is that I am very surprised, and that I honestly find it difficult to see how one could glean a clear and obvious (even glaring, as you imply) bias against John or in the dynamic of his particular relationship with Paul. Not in the last year’s posts - which appear predominantly to consist of scattered anecdotes and accounts from varied sources, and clips of John’s own measured and matured introspections - and certainly not in the several previous years’ - which host a cornucopia of John’s best and bad sides, often concurrently.

I am still rather shy about how far I raise my head above the parapet in this place, but I’ll try to be clear as I can on this apparent bias that you suggest, and the closest I have to a stance: I stand myself definitively and decidedly apart from any factioning that may occur in this fandom/community. Not above, just apart. I am not in the “Anti-John” camp. I am not in the “Saint-Paul” camp. I am not in the “Witch-Yoko” camp. I am not in the “Ungrateful-George” camp. I do not weigh anybody in the Beatles or around them in currencies of blame and what they do or don’t deserve. I do not reduce them down solely to their so-called worst tendencies, nor do I ignorantly glorify them by their so-called best.

And I would like to argue that I have not, in this blog, if I felt I could muster a better argument than just pointing out old posts to you, like the ones personally (pathologically) written (waffled) by myself, which have gone into kaleidoscopic (deathless) account about John and Paul alone and together, and how it’s less about victims and villains and easy delineations and more about the entanglement of preoccupations and issues and enabling/disabling behaviours of both parties, pushing and pulling, for both positive and detriment, from both sides. Because that may just come across as passive-aggressive, and I don’t wish to be, especially when I’m unsure where exactly anon is coming from.

You seem to be expressing a frustration with how people in this story are painted within parts of the fandom and without it, how John/Paul can tend to be deified and vaulted where another can tend to be John/Paul demonised and disregarded, which is one I am entirely in commiseration with. I’m frustrated with it too, immensely. But I have to express my surprise at being the brunt of this (and even anxious dismay, if only because I’m an emotional basketcase and wracked with imposter syndrome and doubt over my own competency of credibility).

I agree, truth is complex, as it is also often unwhole. The contents of this blog have, foremost, been about multiplicative perspective and dimension. It has been about complexity, and deconstruction, and reflexivity. Account and empathy. Critical and not condemnatory judgment. Just as human beings are multi-facted, the examination of them (and reexamination) has to be as well. Now, as the curator of materials and very occasional writer of “meta” or “discourse”, my own latent thoughts and interpretations and even speculation will seep into any lofty ideals of neutrality inevitably. I am aware of and understand this, viscerally, which is why I make (or like to think I have made) appreciable efforts into maintaining a balance while also expanding scope.

I source and archive and then have myself and others who browse the blog to try to derive corroboration and context and further speculation from there, but sourcing and archiving first also entails documenting any manner of opinions and accounts that I may not necessarily agree with or believe by people whom I may not necessarily find reliable in one or another particular context, but which I nonetheless determine is intriguing or important as a point of view, as a point in time, as a facet of the vast frame. Intrigue does not equate to endorsement. I provide contextual description on such posts, off and on, sure, which can at times be conjectural, but for the most part I refrain from opinion and if anything try to stress not jumping to conclusions. 

And this is what still makes up the vast majority of the posts on this blog: quotes, anecdotes, interviews. Scattered, inconsistent, varied. And for all that I try to maintain an overall balance of perspective in the content, I can’t deny that my actual logistical posting habits are imbalanced, which is another thing which may have impressed negatively/wrongly upon anon - crucially, that I don’t unfortunately space the posts out evenly by “content perspective”, where a negative anecdote about somebody will be followed up immediately by a positive one. I just post things as and when I’ve looked them up, or finished working on them, or such. I may read a book and post a few quotes from it, successively, and then perhaps a clip I’ve just transcribed, and then a video a friend of mine requested that I found I had in my possession. I’m not operating on any ingrained biases, Amoralto’s Active Agenda For The Day, I’m just operating on what I have in my possession and capacity to post at a given time.

And perhaps this is a real fault on my part that I can take into hand, that I should try to be more evenhanded in my dissemination, but – basically, if a few consecutive posts that seem to be critical/negative of John or any other particular person at one given point in time is what has convinced you of some untoward bias of opinion I may hold, then I can only say that this is not the case at all.

You talk of the time and energy I put in - if I didn’t love John, and any of the Beatles for that matter, I would not be spending all this time into finding more facets for the frame, acquiring more vantage points, searching for nuance. I’ve even discussed in this blog before, more than once, about affinity and relatability, and about how I can relate to John’s emotional hedgings and compulsions (and the other Beatles for that matter, in other ways, for other reasons). I don’t like myself very much for all kinds of reasons, but it doesn’t make me project upon John for reflecting some of my more shameful tendencies back at myself, or further embolden his; if anything the relation only fosters better understanding of them because I can see more clearly how things can spiral and have repercussions that were not entirely meant at all, well or ill, and I can see why it would be entirely valid for John to feel this way in that circumstance, or do this with what little he’d perceived to receive, and on. And this applies for Paul and the others as well.

I’m not sure how to conclude this, so – this is my general case, anon. I think the least we can agree on is that I am a little more familiar with what I post than you are, and can thus speak with more about authority about them. I have tried going over my own posts with your eyes and have failed to see the same criticisms you do, and I can’t hope that you will see things from my perspective when you read this either. However, I do hope it will at least have broadened your perspective in some way, if it hasn’t changed your mind about me or the opinions I appear to prescribe.

(… And you know the phrase “paranoid troll logic” is meant in the most exasperatedly fond and not at all sneering way, right? I’ve tagged Paul as an “emotional disaster ocean” before too, I do not consider emotional disaster oceans remotely saintly. I allow myself to be glib and cavalier every once in a while, because the Beatles story can be so existentially absurd at times; I would hate for it to be interpreted as a deride.)

[failing-to-write-again]

Germany x Ireland!Reader: Snow Storms and Confessions

Ok so the plan was to post another scenario and write two more yesterday. But Tumblr did an oopsie and deleted everything.

Every cloud has a silver lining however, my friend sent me this gem of a find and all I could think about afterwards was this story. I was going to write them as scenarios but I found it difficult to imagine situations for the other characters.

So here's a different story. A one shot...goody.

---------------------------------------------------

*Ireland's POV*

I sat there cold and alone in the Russian airport terminal. My flight cancelled due to the violent snow storm outside and no hotel room to go to. All the other countries had already left, the usual flights to Ireland weren't available. Just one at 10pm when a blizzard was due. Russia didn't exactly give a direct response when I brought it up...

*flash back*

"Little Ireland! You are feisty small one, you're lack of fear is amusing."

"I'm not being feisty I just want to know why there's none of the usual planes to my country. I don't want to end up caught in the blizzard"

"Она умнее, чем выглядит...I don't involve myself petty plane issues. Perhaps this is fate, you believe in a lot of those magical fairy tales no?"

she's smarter then she looks

"Она также говорит по-русски. Что ты прячешь?"

she also speaks Russian. What are you hiding?

*flash forward to present*

Just before I could pry, Germany got the meeting started and I was left to get to my seat and ponder over Russia's behaviour. He's a strange study for sure.

Germany was as well. We became properly acquainted in the early 1900s only labelling ourselves as friends around the 70s when I joined the early version of the EU (then EEC). He definitely is a layered character, and even though he is sweet once I became closer with him, he seems to still be hiding aspects of his personality. But enough about that I'm cold and have to figure out where I'll sleep tonight.

"Ireland? Vhat are jou doing here?"

Speak of the devil and he shall arrive...

"Hey Germy, my flight got cancelled and it was the only one available, my hotel booking also ran out so I'm just sorta stuck here haha."

A rather enjoyable shade of red spread across his face at the mention of the nickname. I'd do anything to see those little cracks in his tightly woven character. Anything to see the little smiles or chuckles, the crush I'd developed over years of friendship pushing me to.

"V...Vell mein flight vas cancelled as vell...vould you like to share a hotel room vith me? I still have an extra day."

Panic.

"I wouldn't be against it, but you probably would like to not share a room so I understand if you don't want to and everything. Thanks for the offer though"

"Nein it's fine I don't mind ve're friends ja? It's ok!"

The air is so fucking uncomfortable. Big brother France is looking on in disappointed from Paris. I just know it. After a few more rounds of pitiful back and forth we agreed we both were ok with sharing a room and set off, chittering throughout the walk.

*[insert timeskip joke] Germany's POV*

Ireland was in the bathroom getting ready for bed as I sat mentally preparing to sleep beside her.

At some point my feelings of friendship began to be replaced with... love as Italy put it. I thought I was ill whenever my heart would flutter like a manly butterfly near her. After voicing my concerns to my brother and Italy, bruder proceeded to have a laughing fit. Italy took the time to gush about love long enough for me to come to the conclusion I was in it.

Ireland. She's not perfect by any means and we've had our fair share of arguments and disagreements. Though we always manage to work then out. Would it be the same if we were dating? I would be living in a dream if that was true...

The door opened and in she came. In the shorts she wore for sleep her false leg was on full display. I remember helping her make it, replacing the standard wooden one for a metal one with upgrades bring added whenever we visited eachother or were together in our free time from longer summits. The leg, essentially fully functional due to her use of spells and my use of metal. Light blue swirls, famous for their use in her history giving off a slight hum in the dark room, dancing up and down the metal limb. Gott she was an angel.

"That meeting left me a wreck." She stifled a yawn, lowering herself slowly to the bed beside me. The blue began to fade slowly as she stopped using magic, bleeding up her leg until disappearing once it reached the end of the metal at her upper thigh. "How does it vork?" I lowly hummed.

"The magic I use to move the leg? It's a weird mix of electricity and telekinesis. I use the electricity to stimulate the metal wires and pistons you put into it and use the telekinesis to make it move in a more natural way. I just wish it didn't glow, it makes it impossible to hide"

Hide? Why hide it? It's beautiful...is it inappropriate to say that out loud? I settle on a less invasive response.

"Why hide it? The blue looks like the tattoo you always joke about getting?"

She went quiet did I go to far? No she always said when I went too far same as I always did if our discussions on my...past got too vivid...She continued.

"When I lost my leg, I lost a part of myself. The image of the country who would fight anyone to be free, that had the confidence of countries ten times her size, it was gone. I kept up the act in letters and statements acting like the leg didn't phase me...Then I got to finally see my siblings again. None of them were allowed near me after one of my attempts for freeedom out of fear I'd help them escape or convince England to go rogue against his boss. They watched me struggle to do anything, they watched me have to ask for help to move, they watched me weak. It's been hard adjusting...then..."

She took a deep breath and looked up. Something she often did when trying not to cry. I gently lay a hand on her back and put on the calmest voice I could.

"Then vhat? Take jour time, I know it's difficult, but please tell me vhat happened?"

"I met someone. They helped me without even realising it. They slowly built up my confidence in myself, taught me how to laugh and smile like I used to. Obviously my family helped but the help from this person stuck with me more I suppose. He built me up, tried to help when he didn't have to."

He. My world slowly shattered and fell around me. So she has somebody else. Someone better. Someone who can show her all the love they probably expect being raised by someone like France and England.

"Oh...vill jou tell me more about him?"

She let a slow smile spread across her face.

"He's kind and sweet but covers it over with a stiff outer shell. He has many talents...so many talents. He's amazing really, but one thing in particular is what I think made me fall for him."

"Vhat vas it? That he did"

I was probing. I was pushing too far into her private life. If she never spoke about him in all our years of friendship, she had a reason not to. She's a damn ex-spy and rebel leader she knows how much to trust people. But...I didn't care. I wanted to know. Needed to. I had loved her for years only for her to slip away the moment I had started working to con-

"He built me a new leg. Then he called it pretty and sleek and said he liked the blue the magic made on it."

Oh...this was...not what I expected. I was the one who built the leg...she knows that...she...she...

"Ireland I..."

I slowly pulled her gently, she was straddling me so I could look into her eyes.

"Do jou really. But vhat I've done. How could jou?"

"Fall for a lovable human being? It's rather simple. I'm just hoping you'll give this amputee a chance."

She looked at me hopefully through her eye lashes. At that moment I realised why us Germans aren't seen as great romantics. We're better at doing, not speaking. So do I did.

I kissed her. Pouring every piece of emotion I felt for her, because of her into it. Desperately trying to show her how much I cared regardless of how bad I'd be at saying it. And it was bliss. My pulse was racing faster then any of my, no Germany's, F1 cars.

She was with me, not my country, not my people, ME. And I'm going to be selfish.

Her soft warm lips, pushing against my colder ones. Tasting like that brand of chocolate she loves mixed with the minty taste of toothpaste. Her arms, laying around me neck, playing with the hairs on the back of my head. My arms, pulling her closer filling every gap between us I could find. I was in heaven, kissing an angel, and I wasn't going to give it up for anything. The entire world could be damned so long as she was in my arms. Everything Italy, France, Spain, Bruder, and all the other countries preached about love suddenly clicked. I loved her. I never wanted to leave her side. I wanted to be her hero, her Ritter (knight), her lover.

And by the way she was kissing back she wanted to be mine.

*POV switch*

HOLY FUCKING SHIT HE'S KISSING ME!

HOLY FUCKING SHIT I'M KISSING HIM!

AAAHHHHHHHH!!!

I barely thought of anything else, all I could focus on was getting drunk off his kisses. He was kissing me like the world was ending and I loved it.

At some point it went from me in his lap to beneath him on the bed, staring into icy blue eyes.

"vell..." He drawled "ve have a hotel room, a snow storm. no ozher countries on zhis floor, or anyvone for that matter until tomorrow. and a very horny country. vhat do jou suppose ve do Ms.Ireland?"

I spoke before my mind could think. "Well Mr.Germany. A second, equally as horny country is beneath you so the real question is...Was wirst du dagegen tun?

What are you going to do about it?

Snap.

"Ich heiße nicht deutschland Ich heiße ludvig" he growls out. Responds very well to German if the kisses are any proof.

My name isn't Germany. My name is Ludwig

I leant up to whisper in his ear..."Es ist gut zu wissen, was ich später schreien werde. Ich bin (Y/N)."

It's good to know what I'll be screaming later. I'm (Y/N).

I hear a growl before my hands are held above my head with kisses attacking my neck...If this was Russia's plan for only having only one flight home then he's getting cookies next meeting.

*both POV*

Thank God/Gott for snow storms.

[activist-expressing]

"Get a fucking life you freaks"

Curious.

Occasionally, as a society, we are confronted with citizens who are trying their upmost to improve the lives of others, but happen to operate just beyond the bounds of our current understanding, and rather than attempting to improve our grasp of what they want to achieve, we respond with extreme aggression and hostility.

I am standing in a passageway between two shopping areas in a small city, I'm wearing a mask, I'm holding footage showing what happens to animals as standard practice in the time between birth, and the point where their bodies make contact with the consumer population as neatly deformed commodities. There is peaceful music, and smiling faces of out-reachers, everything about our street art performance is designed to draw curiosity, and invite interaction.

I've already embraced a crying man today. He watched as a mother cow, genetically mutated and agonised, attempted with all of her desperation to chase a quad bike trailer carrying her newborn child, with all the grace and beauty that she lacks. She is undone by the colossal mass and chronic illnesses that we have designed her to have.

The man watched as the newborn calf reached up from the conveyor belt to the slaughterhouse employee, and attempted to nuzzle the pair of electric prongs he held in his hand. I stood with the man, and we watched as the male calf lowered his head, only for his new friend, the slaughterhouse employee, to drive the electrified prongs into the back of the calf's skull, emitting smoke as the calf's brain, every neural pathway and memory within it, and all of the longing thoughts of his lost mother, were eviscerated in electric current. The slaughterhouse worker, himself programmed and conditioned into normalised brutality and unimaginable violence, slung his little admirer up by the rear leg, and his little throat was cut.

The man broke.

I should have been broken too, but I've seen this happen too many times to break, despite how much it admittedly still hurts. I wonder what it says about my psychological state that I have become desensitised to the extent that the most unspeakable atrocities committed to the most innocent beings imaginable, rarely surprise me.

We spend our day talking to more people like that man, we watch as many begin to unravel the layers of conditioning that they have been increasingly laden with since childhood, finally asking themselves whether violence towards innocent creatures is necessary at all.

As I stand inside our little art performance, as the world passes by, as I exist in what I hope to be a salient and persuasive silence, and as the music and faces that surround me help me to forget why I'm here, to forget the atrocities about which I will soon have to speak, a silhouette glances across my periphery.

"Get a fucking life, you freaks"

Get a life, he said. Everything about the sentence seemed ironic to me.

Despite the perspective of this piece, I want to emphasise that I don't believe that I am better than this man, I don't believe that I am more 'enlightened', and as a flawed member of society myself, I have no room to pass judgement. I'm also not here to persuade anyone, including this man that I have 'a life'. I don't want to discuss my experience because by invoking my successes and failures, all that I could hope to achieve would be to invalidate the activism and experiences of anyone who tries to bring about change, yet feels that they may not be a success by today's societal standards. I don't believe that one's personal background diminishes the solidity of the words which we utter in earnest.

To my knowledge, the only defining difference between this man and I, causing the dichotomy between our personal sets of circumstance, is chance. Perhaps, also luck? Is either of us more lucky than the other to be entering this interaction from the perspective that we do? I live with immense happiness from the reality I experience, but also with great pain. I don't know this man, but I'd imagine that he also carries with him the joy and suffering of his own reality.

That said, there is one difference that I know of; without the annoying, self-righteous, know it all, do-gooding, relentlessly irritating and uncompromisingly difficult people like me in the society of the past, he and I would be living in a very different world to that in which we do. The limited freedoms and justices of modern day democracy that we take for granted, the human rights act, the strive for equality across genders and sexualities, the philosophy that all of humanity are born equal, and the simple concept of mitigating suffering and increasing joy, would all be distant, unreachable ideas in the minds of passive citizens living under oppression.

We all benefit from the activists, advocates, and changemakers of history, and all of those inspired people had one thing in common with eachother, and in common with me. They were all fucking irritating. Now, I'm not saying that I see myself as comparable to the giants upon whose shoulders we all stand. To the contrary, I think that if I ever begin to perceive myself as worthy of being compared to those people, then my own colossal arrogance and self aggrandisement will have prohibited this comparison from being logical.

What I am saying is that it's okay that he hates me, that's how it's supposed to work. I'm just hoping that his grandchildren and the creatures that they inhabit this planet with will think that I'm, you know, an alright bloke.

You will never read this, but if you do, my angry friend, go easy mate. Have a good day.

[yourtoradorasextendedwarranty]

It's honestly something I've been talking about for years but I had been discussing this for some time in the 2010's when a person's entire personality could be defined by their sexual orientation.

And I'm specifically talking about the people who would be like, "I eat gay, I walk gay, I sleep gay, I breathe gay. So literally everything about me and all I do is the most gay thing ever." Or in better terms. Narcissistic little sh*ts.

And of course my broader point, was the fact that the US is the world stage unfortunately. Everything that happens here is broadcast essentially worldwide at almost all times. So if the rest of the world, including third and second world countries, see stuff like the shooting by a trans person, high-end levels of narcissism, kink and debauchery at Pride parades, and an attempt to indoctrinate and harm kids......... What exactly do they think other countries around the world are going to do?

The short answer? They're going to outright place of bans on LGBT people. They're going to place bans on Pride parades and public actions involving gay people. Some countries might even go so far is to imprison, castrate or purge their LGBT populations to avoid any of this happening.

Unfortunately, a lot of people don't understand that their actions can have global effects sometimes. Especially if we're talking about the rights of a minority group. Rights of which aren't even being removed. Because here's the thing. Drag queens are not LGBT, they are performers. Drag queens never used to be even associated with being trans. Because drag shows used to be something akin to clown shows. They were over exaggerated versions of feminine standards worn by men. And then strutting around as if they were on a catwalk.

Then at some point, they became associated with being trans. Because apparently wanting to look like a woman 10% to 30% of the time somehow makes you the opposite sex all the time. But it gets more dumb than that. With the vast and increasing numbers of detransitions that are leaving children and young adults sterilized and mutilated, I'm not even remotely surprised if legislation would be passed that would mitigate that harm.

And if you think having to wait until you're past the age of adulthood, and having to go through actual proper channels of psychological help/evaluation, is the same thing as genocide. You're dishonest. You're a narcissist. You are uninformed. And you are a arrogant piece of shit.

Genocide is an attempt at absolute eradication of a group of people. Being trans used to mean being transsexual. Which was something that would get diagnosed and you could actually have insurance take care of your doctor's bills for. It was also appropriately labeled as a mental illness. This, right up until, it was either the CDC or the world health organization, decided that they didn't want trans people to be stigmatized anymore. And they thought removing the classification of mental illness would help.

Unfortunately however it hasn't helped, and it has made things much worse. And not just that, it made getting help for actual trans people that much harder. But also 98% of people who are transsexual wanted to surgically transition at one point. But only after they were positive that's what they wanted. And they were positive they were ready for it, and had received the proper mental and emotional help.

Nowadays, if a three or four year old grabs a dress or tries to imitate mommy or daddy they are immediately considered trans. And worse than that, we've allowed an easy out for people with Munchausen by proxy. Now if mommy or daddy wanted a different sex baby they can literally just force that on their kid. And because radical trans activists don't actually give a damn about the health of children. What ends up happening is these parents are allowed to indoctrinate and pressure their children and to believing they are something that they probably are not. (And if you try to tell me that's impossible consider how many cases of detransions there are. KIDS are impressionable. More so when you stunt their development with chemicals)

I honestly wonder how many people have to die and be harmed by this movement before people start taking a good look at what's happening and decide enough is enough. I've already seen posts from activist types and from trans people blaming the government rather than blaming the shooter. I've already seen people say that the kids deserve it for being christians. And I've also seen Democrats and activist stand on the grave of these children for political brownie points.

If you're trans and you're not raising your voice about these types of people and how you are not aligned in any way with them, you will be lumped in with them. And eventually, it is possible that you will actually lose rights. Because I promise you second and third world countries are currently removing them because of incidents like this. And it'll come for the 1st world countries next.

[loki-subterfuge]

Irked

Author: lokilover9 Chapter: #17 Rating:Teen Notes: Movies ~ What Women Want with Helen Hunt ~ As Good As It Gets with Jack Nicholson. Song ~ Night And Day by The Temptations Relieved to discover Shandis jacuzzi only half full, the ladies happily eased themselves into it and got comfortable. “Ahhhh. Isn’t this nice, Natskies? It fits two perfectly.” “It does. So why did Loki threaten to spank you?” “Geez your brain pounces to the gutter awfully fast. Were you always this perverted? Maybe you were a man in a past life an’ it filtered over into this one.” “That would explain a lot…well?” “In case I didn’t let him help me outta the car an’ hold hands in public. Said we need to appear in love.” “He’s right. Why hadn’t you agreed to that before?” “‘Cause I didn’t wanna.’” “Mmm. Still in denial of your feelings were you?” Shandi stared at her, uncertain of how to respond. “Okay, look. I’ll admit to findin’ him somewhat..attractive…” “Somewhat?” Asked Nat. “I’ll bet sleeping across the hall from him is causing some wet dreams.” ‘If you only knew.’ “There’s that perv again. Even if it were, it’s not like I could relieve myself.” “Why? I thought your newest vibe was pretty quiet?” “It was. When amongst the livin.’” “A little aggressive, were we?” “No.” Said Shandi. “I played nice. Then outta nowhere, it went tits up. The day we left, too.” “No wonder you appeared agitated that morning.” “Nu uh. That happened ‘cause I forgot where I’d put the damn Hitachi and tore my room apart lookin’ for it. You shoulda seen me. Tossin’ shit from drawers over my shoulder, pullin’ stuff from bins under the bed…dumpin’ baskets outta the closet. You’d think the Tasmanian Devil from..Bugs freakin’ Bunny, had himself a tantrum in there.” Nat laughed. “Hopefully your treasure hunt was successful.” “Sorta. I twied…‘tried’….” “Twied what, Elmer Fud?” Shandi splashed her. “Back off, woman. ‘Tried’..to use it here an’ it’s toast, too.” Nat laughed again. “What the fuck? You broke two vibrators in one week? Who does that, Shandi?” “Oh shuddup. Now I’ll be goin’ manual ‘til our missions over.” “Why bother when Loki’s readily available?“ “An’ what do you ‘spose I do Natskies? March over there durin’ the night an’ wake him with a slap to the ass? ‘Yo Cactus, I could use a stress release. Mind if I play ‘ride the rodeo bull’ on your face?’” “That’s a perfect idea.” “Uh..no.” “Then have him drive you to the local sex shop to buy another.” “Oh, sure. I’d never live that down an’ have ya forgotten the breast pump incident?” “What about it?” “Seriously? The God of Mischief in a store with..vibratin’ dildos, butt plugs an’..bondage supplies? Nope.” Seconds later… “Clint can take him. Then tell Cactus what you want, via snapchat.” ***** Meanwhile, Loki was finding the increasing volume level of Clints music, unnerving and offered him another drink. When discovering the kitchen empty and the second bottle of vodka missing, he returned. “The ladies seem to have mysteriously disappeared.” “You’re kiddin’ me.” Said Clint. “How long ago?” “It’s been at least an hour.” “Oh really? I’ll bet I can guess what they’re up to.” “That being?” Loki asked. In his rather inebriated state, Clint revealed Nat was bisexual and Loki’s brows rose. “Are you suggesting what I think you are?” “I don’t know, but they constantly screw with me insinuating it.” “Do they now? Then I suggest we investigate their whereabouts.” Hoping leaving the music on would give them a better advantage, it almost worked until Cupid malfunctioned. Loki knocked on Shandis door and receiving no answer, slowly turned the knob. Then a hastened shove from Clint, slammed it against the inner wall. “Could you be more conspicuous? I might as well have tied a fog horn to your neck.” “Fuck off Cactus.” Hearing all the noise, Nat and Shandi sunk beneath the bubbles and Loki knocked at the ensuite. “May we come in?” “You may.” Said Shandi. He opened it and again, Clint pushed past him and scoffed at Nat. “Yeah, just as I thought. You’re screwing with me again.” She batted her lashes. “Meaning?” Loki leaned against the doorframe, smirking at Shandi. “Discussing menstrual cramps were you?” Clint continued. “Vixens. I’ll bet you’re both dressed under there and can prove it.” Bending too fast to touch Nat, he slipped and fell in, forcing a large wave of water onto the floor. “Fuck me!” Nat was holding her drink in the air and smiled, when he landed in her lap. “Now?” Loki swung into action, using magic to clean it up, while Clint snapped Nats bra strap. “Was that really necessary?” She asked. “To prove my point, yes!” “Uh, baby cakes…” “And now I’m soaked because…” “But, baby cakes…” “Don’t interrupt, Nat…” “CUPID!” Loki suddenly shouted. “WHAT, CACTUS? WHAT?” He gestured towards Shandi who’d escaped Clints path, but with the water shallower, was concealing her naked tits with her hands. “Shit, sorry darlin.’” Once he left to change, Loki eyed Shandi and Nat. “Have any further pressing issues to discuss, or will you actually be re joining us this time?” “Beat it.” Said Nat. “Before I drop kick your sorry ass.” He smiled, closing the door. “I’ll take that as a yes.” Back in the entertainment room, Clint asked Loki to keep his revelation about Nat, secret. She was partially dressed after all and he regretted embarrassing Shandi. Loki thought it wise to prevent any unwanted visits, from paramedics. The ladies sauntered in with water bottles and Loki eyed Shandis new attire, of form fitting tights and a t shirt. “Care to explain yourselves?” “Shandi craved chocolate and bubbles.” Said Nat. His arms crossed. “This was your idea?” “What of it..brat who skinny dips after midnight?” “Aren’t you cheeky.” Shandi stood her ground. “An’ what of that, too?” They stared each other down and Loki envisioned reddening her ass, when Clint spoke up. “Maybe you guys are taking this husband and wife thing a little too seriously.” They both looked at him. “Hey, just an observation and uhh..sorry about that Shandi.” She smiled. “It’s all good.” “Why don’t we watch a movie? Flip a coin for dibs.” Said Nat. The girls won and decided on ‘What Women Want.’ Everyone settled into the large sectional, with Shandi curled up against an arm next to Loki. She kept repositioning her legs and after the third time, he leaned in and whispered. “Use me.” Smirking at her confused expression, he gently placed one across his thighs. “Better?” “Mm hm. Thanks.” Clint had long fallen asleep, when during a scene near the films end, the actors were slow dancing in the female characters bedroom. The song playing was Night And Day and Nat looked over at Shandi. “There it is again.” Loki glanced between them. “What?” “That dreamy look in her eye every time she watches them dance to that song. She’ll listen to it for days now until the effect wears off.” “You’ve both seen this before?” “Yes, it’s one of her favorites.” Said Nat. “The other is ‘As Good As It Gets.’ “I don’t know what she’s talking about, there’s nothing to see.” Said Shandi. Nat reached for the remote. “You missed out, Cactus. I’ll rewind it.” Shandi gave her the stink eye and he chuckled. “Take heed Kroshka, you’re being warned.” She put it back. “Apparently so.” When it was over, they decided to call it a night and Nat couldn’t wake Clint, so he was left there. Shandi helped take their bags upstairs then returned to the kitchen. Loki entered with some glasses, to find her searching through multiple cupboards. ‘Shit.’ “You’ve rearranged everything. Messed me right up.” She teased. “Clint loves Fruit Loops and I wanted to set him up with my spare box.” “Mustn’t one be awake to eat? Worry about it tomorrow.” He suggested. “I might forget.” After looking in every one, she finally turned to him. “They’re missing along with other items I bought on our first shop.” ***** Nat was just returning up the front stairs, when hearing Shandis unimpressed tone and froze. Loki was visible from where she stood, but he couldn’t see her. ***** “I’ve a confession to make, Shandi. On the day you were ill, I disposed of all the frozen goods you’d purchased out of concern they would cause the same. Your Fruit Loops, Coco Puffs and Lucky Charms, magically disappeared the day after.” He’d hoped light humor might smooth her crinkling brow, but it failed. “Well, I can’t find anything we bought today, either. Where is all that, Loki?” He hesitated. “It never left the store.” Shandi began recalling the day’s events. “That’s why you had me wait in the car…threw everything in the trunk and then put it away before I noticed. You were deceiving me the entire time.” The look of disappointment on her face, made Loki’s stomach knot. “I hadn’t meant…” She interrupted, her tone calm, yet firm. “Please don’t? I thought from our conversation about subjecting me to things without my knowledge Loki, you fully understood it’s not okay. Yet even as we had it, you were concealing things. Then you did the same, when mentioning my diet earlier. I said I’d consider your help after you stated, ‘It’s up to you.’ You could’ve confessed then what I’d chosen wasn’t purchased.” A heavy sigh escaped her. “Maybe to you, they’re simply unhealthy choices about food. The point is, they’re ‘my’ choices. One’s only ‘I've’ the place to make, no matter what they regard.” Loki was internalizing every word, knowing it pointless to defend himself. Regardless the nature of his intentions, she was right. He’d purposely deceived her and tried to conceal it, again. Shandi stopped at the backstairs and looked to him. “I wish you wouldn’t have done this. I liked trusting you. Goodnight.” With that, she was gone and Loki silently berated himself. ‘Brilliant you idiot. Fucking brilliant.’ Seconds after Shandi arrived in her room, Nat entered and quietly closed the door. “Clints lost without his phone in the morning, thought I’d take it to him. You alright?” “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” “Don’t be angry, but I kind of eavesdropped on the way back. Heard everything.” “What, that?” Shandi began searching for pajamas. “It was nothing.” She rammed the drawer back in with her hip. “Nothing at all.” “Obviously.” As they readied for bed, Nat watched her become increasingly frustrated. After dropping the toothpaste lid, she grumbled curses, searching for it behind the toilet, slammed the doors beneath the bathroom sink, banged the lid shut on the hamper after shoving her clothes into it, then turned towards the bed, tripped over the Hitachi bag and toppled onto the floor. “Fuck!” Nat was already in bed and laughed. “Oh, beautiful. You’ve got it bad.”

[skippyjo94]

Something Special

Albus Dumbledore was no stranger to special witches and wizards. He had encountered more than his fair share in his life.

His entire family was talented for one thing. His brother, outstanding. His father, insanely powerful. His mother? Never outright showed it, but the ease with which Albus witnessed her performing any of her magical affairs, he had a hunch she may be more powerful than them all.

His sister hadn't had the chance to be anything special, rest her soul. But he knew in his heart, she would've put them all to shame.

Albus himself, of course, was nothing to scoff at. He had always been a natural at all things magical. He had watched other children struggle to learn things that came to him effortlessly. It had always bothered him when he could watch and see what was wrong, what his classmates were missing. He was always one to jump in and help.

At times, he admits, he may have seemed to be a know it all. He truly just wanted to help. He grew to understand, through life experience, that he may have been less than gracious in how those handled situations.

Everything that happened with his sister and his father and then his mother made him a bit resentful of it all. His natural ability had gotten him exactly nowhere. He still had to return home and do all the things everyone else does, be less, even, than what everyone else is.

He met Gellert Grindelwald. He was another outstanding wizard, both in the conventional way and a way all his own. They did their thing. Two wonderful wizards, making plans to make a better world. One that corrects the injustices Albus has faced in his life.

Until it happened. And then they couldn't anymore. Albus couldn't. He wasn't the same person he had been.

He understood. He understood all the wrong, all the misconceptions they were under, all the unfairness and lies. It was like the glass shattered. Suddenly he saw what this new world would be. What it would turn into.

It wasn't what Albus wanted.

He had always loved seeing witches and wizards excel. He had always been one to excel himself, so he knew how elated they were when they got that new spell finally. When they were told their potion passed with flying colors.

Grindelwald's world didn't allow for that. It didn't allow for people to succeed that way. For the peers he had helped, even though he hadn't been too gentle with their feelings he now knew, to have the chance to get there too.

Gellert's world, it only allowed for the exceptional to succeed.

Albus now recognized the error in this way of thinking. He had always known, but now it was all he could see.

They were all exceptional. Every witch who was the best at transfiguration, who puts her whole class to shame. Every wizard who took three attempts to make the perfect sleeping draught because he was distracted from a lack of sleep the night before. Every muggleborn child who got their Hogwarts letter at 11, and even their younger sibling that didn't.

Not a single one of them was unexceptional.

Even his brother, who people often see as exactly that, unexceptional

And just like that, he knew there was more he had to do. He had to be the one to make them see just how much potential they had, each and every one of them. How exceptional they could be. And he had to help them make sure they got there.

Some years down the road he had become a professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He liked to think his students benefitted from his efforts in teaching. He liked to think his students enjoyed having him as a teacher.

He made an effort with each and every student that came through his doors, to make sure they felt confident and as if they were one of the brightest students he had ever met. It was hardly a chore. They were each amazing in their own right.

Every year there was that one child that stood out above the rest. Usually a student to whom magic seemed to come especially naturally. They were usually much like him in this way.

He always strove to set them on the right path. He had been dangerously close to making an irrevocable move down a path he would rather not accept existed most days.

He made sure he could use his own experience to stop others like him, others whose horses were maybe too high some days. To ensure they knew it was alright to stay a bit lower to the ground, lest they stop seeing where their hooves fell.

The one student this year was peculiar. Usually Dumbledore could pick out his pivotal pupil, as Professor McGonagall jokingly called them, within the first week of classes. This year was different. No one seemed to stand out to him really. They were all exceptional, but none that truly caught his focus.

Until about halfway to the Christmas holiday. It was during a lesson with the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff first years. There were only about eighteen students in the class, one of the smaller groups, with several out with whatever illness was ransacking the castle.

The lesson was on how to fend off various beasts, generally a popular subject among the younger students. Especially those born from Muggles, having grown up without the knowledge that all sorts of magical creatures they've heard about are far from the myths they were raised to believe.

One such beast was under discussion, what it may do upon catching a human, how to defend against it. Not always the most palatable of discussions but a necessity none the less.

Rarely did Dumbledore have a student disagree with his teachings. A small boy, reddish-brown hair a mess atop his pale, slightly freckled face, spoke up.

"Why wouldn't you just distract it? Or get its attention and make it trust you?"

The innocence in his voice was striking. Dumbledore suddenly realized he had never heard this student speak before.

"There are times that is a viable option of course," Dumbledore began, thinking through his answer carefully. "Other times, though, there may not be a choice. Of course we never want to unnecessarily harm a creature, but in life there may be situations where they don't leave you with another option."

He hated to put that thought into their minds, especially that boy who asked the question, innocent as he seemed. "I do sincerely hope none of you are ever in a place to make such a call."

The boy seemed to have more to still be displeased with the answer but chose to leave it at that. Dumbledore was grateful, he didn't want to see a more displeased look on the young boy's face.

Yes, this boy was something special.

It went on like this for the rest of the semester. Newt, he discovered, Newt Scamander was the boy's name. He had an older brother, Theseus, who was quite talented at defensive enchantments.

The boy was very quiet, studious, though without any real desire to follow the rules it seemed. He was very intelligent, and exceedingly awkward. He seemed to light up whenever the lesson or conversation turned to any kind of magical creatures.

Newt had a wealth of knowledge on magical creatures, rivaling that of any upperclassman. He knew things even some of the teachers only vaguely remembered hearing, obviously stemming from his own research.

It was clear he was entranced by creatures, not just for their uses, but for their well-being above all else.

One day Dumbledore came across Newt out on the grounds. He appeared to be speaking rather intimately to a tree.

Not wanting to startle the boy, Dumbledore stopped a safe distance away and watched. What was happening soon became apparent.

The boy stuck out his hand, slowly, no sudden movements and continued speaking softly to the tree. His words were too quiet to be heard from a distance, but his actions seemed to be encouraging.

Just as Dumbledore was about to walk away, write it off as one of the boy's many peculiarities, a small movement caught his eye.

It could have been the wind, but something about it made him stay. A while later, long past when Dumbledore's own patience would have worn thin, a tiny twig seemed to inch out of a hole in the bark.

A Bowtruckle. And then another.

A couple of very tiny sticks with eyes are inspecting the offered hand very cautiously. They must decide the boy is safe as they crawl into the open palm.

Dumbledore starts walking forward carefully, making enough noise to announce his presence but not enough to seem threatening.

Newt never looks away from the treasure in his palm. He stays facing the tree, keeping the bowtruckles close to their home to ensure they feel safe. He is a new person after all, they mustn't feel separated from their home.

"What have you found there, Mr. Scamander?" Dumbledore kept his tone light so as not to startle the peaceful moment.

"Not what. Who. There is a Bowtruckle family living in this tree. They only live in wand wood trees so I've never seen one in person before." Rarely had anyone sounded as happy as Newt.

"I've never tried to get one to come out. How did you manage it?" Dumbledore knew plenty about Bowtruckles, but he was eager to learn more about his boy.

"Well, they aren't very trusting. They have to feel safe to leave their home, which means they have to recognize you." Newt recited the facts as though they were second nature. "There is very little information on them as a whole because they so rarely leave their trees. I wanted to learn more about them, so I've been coming here for the last couple of months and talking to them."

Dumbledore was surprised by that. "Talking to them?"

"Yes," Newt responded. "They're wonderful listeners. I come here after classes are finished, before supper. I tell them about my day, my classes. Sometimes I read to them from our books."

Dumbledore wasn't sure what to do with that. It made sense from the boy somehow.

"At first, they acted like they weren't there. They must've been frightened. Then I read them the story the knight and his dragon from our History of Magic class, and they forgot to pretend they weren't listening." Newt smiled then, proud of himself for his efforts. They had clearly paid off.

"They have never let me hold them before. They have been coming out to talk for a couple of weeks now. Well, to listen. But they're a very responsive audience." Newt looked up at Dumbledore for the first time in their exchange. His eyes were shining.

"I think they're just shy, Professor. I think they don't mind humans at all, just no one ever takes the time to get to know them, to gain their trust." Something in his expression made Dumbledore positive they weren't just talking about the Bowtruckles.

He looked down at the tiny creatures in Newt's hand, and sure enough, they were leaning into Newt's chest where he had his hand cradled, looking up at Dumbledore warily.

"I'm sure you're right Mr. Scamander. People must learn to be more patient. Not all creatures are kind, and some are more cautious of who they place their trust in." Dumbledore was amazed at how wise this young boy was. "It would do us all well to remember that. And perhaps be a bit more like that ourselves."

Newt had long since returned his gaze to the Bowtruckles tucked safely into his chest. His gaze was one of adoration, something surely reflected in Dumbledore's own gaze upon the scene.

"I think it best if I leave you to your observations now," Dumbledore said fondly. "We have yet to become acquainted and I would hate to cause them undue stress. Perhaps in time, I may earn their trust as you have, hmm?"

"Yes, of course Professor." Newt looked pleased that someone he seemed to hold in such high respect was treating his knowledge as the authority on the matter. "They really are a gentle species. They are just...misunderstood I think."

Misunderstood indeed, Dumbledore thought. "Then we must fix that at once. I believe you to be the right man for that job." Newt looked up again at the thought, hopeful at the opportunity and responsibility he had been given. "If anyone can properly understand them, I am sure it will be you."

Newt felt his face flush at the confidence in his teacher's voice. No one had ever had such unwavering faith in his abilities before.

Dumbledore turned to head back to the castle. He had only made it a few steps away when he heard the boy, barely loud enough to hear even from this small a distance, "Thank you, Professor."

Dumbledore turned to look back at his surprising young pupil. "I feel as though very soon, it will be I thanking you, Mr. Scamander." He made sure to make eye contact as he said this. "Bowtruckles is just the beginning for you, I'm sure of it."

Newt looked away, uncertain what to do with the praise. "I look forward to being learning from your observations, Newt."

And with that Dumbledore was off, back to the castle, his initial destination long forgotten.

He had dealt with a great many exceptional students. Though so far, none as surprising as this boy, with no friends to speak of, but the trust of a creature thought, until now, to be notoriously coldshouldered to humans.

Yes, this boy was going far. He was destined for great things. This boy was truly something special.

[the-origin-story]

Origin Story Text Posts and Onion Headlines Part 9

Kira: one of these days i'm going to roll my eyes too hard and i'm going to go blind, i just walked into this room at a party and someone yelled "dibs!", I'm sorry you must be at least a level 4 friend to unlock my tragic backstory, I'm developing all these feelings it's disgusting., how ones one turn their emotions off, idc (I do care), This Shit Again, i hope common sense is the next cool trend, no offense but i hate myself and i hope i die in my sleep, i need a tall boyfriend so he can get things for me off of tall places. i changed my mind boys are demons ill get a ladder, "your eyes hella red u been smokin??" no I been crying bitch leave me alone, why do ppl think its ok to waste my time, who let me adult I can't adult, japanese legend says that if you shut the fuck up you wouldn't be so annoying, "yall need to chill" says me, who isn't chill not even a little bit., here i am, cuter and more kissable than ever, and how many kisses am i receiving? zero, why doesn't anyone appreciate my sarcasm and bitterness as much as i do, what the hap is fuckening, current mood: angrily bisexual., buying clothes that aren't black is hard, are those feelings get them away from me, girlfriend: why don't you take off that battle armor and slip into something a bit more.....comfortable me: i am most comfortable when i am impervious to most forms of physical attack, "I need to you to totally straight with me-" *nervous bisexual laughter*, i can't stop laughing at the fact that i used to think that i was straight me a heterosexual, ever wonder how different your life would be if that one thing never happened, Youve heard of Best Buy, now get ready for... me (the best bi), ATTENTION! The rumors are true! i AM beautiful AND hilarious at the SAME TIME. yes it is a lot to take in take ur time my beauty is timeless, Fact: Bisexuals are open to everything. Coffee dates, crowded parties, underground robot fighting rings, secret witch covens. We're open minded., bi people are are wonderful and magical and their identity is so so valid pass it on, Your Safety Is Our Second Concern, anyway sorry I sound really gay and bitter, list of things i'm handling well currently 1., my life's resume: i tried, anyway *goes to push my glasses up my nose by the bridge and accidentally gets fingerprint on lens* fuck okay hold on, do you ever just look at someone and think "I'm glad your parents had sex", If I had a dollar every time someone called me ugly I'd have 0 dollars bitch you thought lmao, I may be short but you're still beneath me

Jean: me 300 times a day: im so done, that person you just called a nerd? they are a giant nerd. you made a good call on that one., "if u like someone just tell them!" yeah sure goodbye, why does life feel like i'm playing on expert difficulty, the robot apocalypse will be caused by people talking about the robot apocalypse so much that the robots will think that's what we want and they're just trying their best, i want to give him (Becket) things like blowjobs and self esteem, I am awake but at what price, me: *discussing w/ myself in my head* me: my thoughts exactly, I'm like four days past my bedtime, no offense but some of us *looks pointedly at self in mirror* need to fucking chill, reasons to date me: 1: 2: 3: 4: 5: please lol, "its dark im scared" don't worry bae i got this *stomps foot* *sketchers light up*, me: *talks for 30 minutes straight on a subject no one cares about just because i love sharing information*, me:*lies down* things:*continue to happen* me: lieS DOWN HARDER*, friend: you look stressed me: haha yeah it's the stress, it's raining but it's not men so what's the point

Cypress: is it gay in here or is it just me?, im the seductive malicious forest spirit your parents warned you about, me: hangs out w/ little kids and tries to reach them self love and feminist ideas, I am a dream girl I already know, i'm a good person i don't deserve to be mistaken for a heterosexual, *me flirting* hey wanna suffer together, "sit up straight" how dare you i'll sit as gay as i please, Area Women Not Listened To Again, "women are weaklings!" i'm strong enough to carry your corpse to the woods, I'm in love with this girl. She's gorgeous, smart, talented, funny as hell, and totally badass. That girl is me. boy: says something sexual or flirtatious me: right...anyway, "you can't wear that!!!! people will get the wrong impression!!!" the impression that i am a hot babe with an ass that just won't quit??" honey that ain't wrong that's just a fact

Becket: am i a complex carbohydrate because i am slowly breaking down, I'm usually that person who has no idea what's going on, no offense but what the fuck am I doing, eyebrow game strong?, more like eyeBAG game strong. i'm fucking exhausted. haha lol, au where i'm not crying, i expect the minimum and am still disappointed, INCREDIBLY ATTRACTIVE PEOPLE who are simultaneously GIANT DORKS are my ULTIMATE WEAKNESS, me: knows exactly what i have to say me: stutters and fucks up a 5 word sentence, me, a sensitive and very emotional person who cries easily and can't take any criticism: i wanna fight someone

Liam: im fluent in talking shit, is it morally okay to pray that your crush's relationship doesn't work out, I walk this broken road on the boulevard of broken roads Don't know where it broke but it's only me and I broke the road, can you not date people that are not me? it's rude., i think i stole all of the wrong personality traits when when making my identity because no one fucking likes me??, hot people who know they're hot are the worst and can't be trusted, I thought you were in love? just with myself, *avoids even people i love w all heart*, I may look calm but in my head I've killed you three times, Child Development Experts Say Boys Not Fully Mature Until Avenging Father's Murder, i bet you thought you'd seen the last of me, i try not to sound like an asshole but it's really hard because i am an asshole, why are 15 year olds so angry

Bean: wanna make a secret handshake it involves us touching our mouths together for three hours, don't look at me i'll fall in love with u, Do you ever look at a person and get the urge to just drop everything and yell I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU, here's a little song i like to call "i cherish our friendship so i won't tell you i would totally have sex with you if you asked"

Cyra: IF YOU SAY ONE MORE WORD I'M GOING TO GRAB YOUR FACE AND kiss it because you're cute , do you ever just want to hold someone in your arms for about 37 years, QUICK. PUT YOUR LIPS ON MINE IT'S AN EMERGENCY, @god thanks for making girls so pretty, they're just really cute and in love, my kink is a happy n fulfilling relationship, my seduction style is is genuinely caring about your life & wanting you to improve & be happy, otp: smol and tol, you can't be hot and just expect me to act normal

Jean and Kira: I'm Always Open To Feedback I Can Get Defensive About And Ultimately Ignore

The Squad: Group Of Good-Looking People All Headed Toward Same Place