#why did they write that why that hurt me so bad

[kitts-mechanix]

Oh my gosh....I might need a tissue for this....this very much sums up the cycle of abuse in a sibling dynamic.

@lexicorp, @ichbinmeltdown and I have been having a huge discussion about the Seeker Trine and the cycle of abuse, but this comic captures it in a very real way.

The drama in Thundercracker's show acts as a form of foreshadowing. Starscream barges in and starts treating his brother like dirt, and judging from Thundercracker's reaction it's obvious that Starscream has been abusive to him. Starscream only bothers Thundercracker because he needs him to help him defeat Megatron, aka something that will benefit HIM. Thunder isn't eager to do it, Starscream starts rambling off fake apologies and pointing out his brother's shortcomings (eg, "I've forgotten how sensitive you can be but I didn't think you'd actually leave over it"). Now that being said, I don't think Star's comment about how it hurt when Thunder left is entirely untrue, because I do like to think he was confessing at that point, having an inkling of regret--but even then that's only to get what he wants. When Thunder brushes him aside, Starscream cracks and admits he's sorry for everything he's done, names what he did and says he won't do it again. But is he truly sorry? Thunder doesn't buy it so Starscream uses his interest of the Earth to get him to do it. But it's obvious Thunder has reached a point where he doesn't want to keep putting up with Starscream's bullying. No matter how much Star pleads and begs, Thunder finally calls him out on his rash actions, like telling him that he's obsessing over usurping Megatron and shouldn't have tried to mess with him. He's had to watch Starscream constantly destroy himself, and his own brothers, out of self-interest. When Starscream realises he didn't get his way, he went back to blaming his brother and destroys the TV--the one thing keeping Thundercracker sane--out of anger. Thunder points out this is the problem with Star. He's done EVERYTHING for his brother but it's never enough, and he's had enough of trying to please him. Enraged, Star attacks him and calls him a traitor because he knows he can't get Thunder to do what he wants.

Meanwhile Skywarp is just standing there watching the whole thing and not intervening, probably out of fear. Star leaves and makes Skywarp go with him, leaving Thundercracker alone.

I honestly feel bad for all three of them. Starscream was HEAVILY abused by Megatron and he internalises that abuse on his own teammates, and even his own brothers (okay, I know the Seekers being brothers is a fanon thing, but I headcanon it). But to be fair, even his brothers--at least in G1--honestly kind of allow Megatron to abuse Star and even assist him in trying to punish or harm him. And this is likely more because Star treated them like dirt and less because they were afraid of Megatron. WIth this vicious cycle, I can see why Star kicked his brothers off of Astrotrain in the middle of space in TFTM. I firmly believe Megatron is at fault for fracturing the Trine's sibling dynamic with his abusive "leadership", but it was Starscream--the most abused of the three--who carried on that cycle.

Thundercracker is tired of the abuse. Starscream won't stop it because he needs to feel powerful and be in control when Megatron isn't choking the life out of him. Skywarp is too afraid to stop him for fear of getting the laser treatment.

I won't delve too deep into my personal backstory here, but one of the reasons this comic hit me so hard is because the dynamic reminds me of myself and my younger sister. I didn't have a great upbringing that I'm slowly realising was more abusive than I thought. My sister had it much easier since I suspect she was the favourite. To put it lightly, I was like Starscream/Skywarp and she was like Thundercracker. I'm not proud of it, especially looking at this and knowing my sister still sees me as this version of Starscream.

I really want to write a fic where they manage to break the cycle of abuse. I know, it's easier said than done and probably wouldn't work in real life....maybe I just want to give these guys a happier ending with their sibling dynamic 💔

It's a canon event.

[Follow up to this post.]

[hwallazia]

hi idk if you taking requests but if you are, heres my idea.

nerdy hongjoong chosen to do 7 minutes in heaven with you. imagine making out with him and you get whiny and moaning BUT he’s just the same as you! he’s whining and hands all over you. with his lil glasses and his hair gets messy from you tugging on his hair 😩

i love your writing and i think you’ll do great with this! looking forward to it if you decide to write this byeeeeeeee

7 MINUTES IN HELL HEAVEN – 김홍중

⋆ synopsis. being dared to do 7 minutes in heaven with the nerd wasn’t as bad as you thought.

pairing. nerdy! hongjoong & fem! reader.

wc. 1,8k

warnings. veeeery suggestive (mdni!), dry humping, making out, desperation at its peak, so much whining, implied virgin! hongjoong, reader calls joong “nerdy”, teasing, reader’s on top of hongjoong but they don’t fuck, getting caught (not fucking but in a compromising position hehe), possessive reader tehee, mention of other ateez’s members, 

nic’s notes ⋆ writing this was a ride 😮‍💨 happy belated vday, lovelies <3 also, hope u like it, dear anonnie !!

how the fuck did you end up here?

a nerd whose name was irrelevant to you, sitting next to you in a king-sized bed, chosen to do 7 minutes in heaven with you. 

you could feel the way his eyes peered holes into the back of your head as you covered your face with your palms, still unable to face reality. he fidgeted his fingers against the fabric of his fancy pants, adjusting his black glasses every now and then; heart almost beating out of his poor chest. 

you sighed, fingers holding the bridge of your nose, before turning abruptly to stare at him. his body jolted slightly in reaction. “do you even know how to kiss?”

his eyes opened wide in shock, taken aback by your sudden question. “huh?” was all he could mutter.

you groaned as you rolled your eyes, a mix of boredom and annoyance bubbling deep inside your guts. “oh my god,” you whispered under your breath, closing your eyes in denial. “you know how this game works, right?”

a soft flush of red brightened his cheeks. “i do,” he breathed, “it just seems quite inappropriate to me.”

amusement laced your tone. “inappropriate? ha! you’re a virgin, aren’t ya?” your words sounded more like a sentence than a question. 

the blush on his face grew stronger, heating his face. nervously, he blabbered. “hah?! w—why would i share that kind of information with you?!”

you chuckled at him. “yeah, you are.”

he looked at you as if you had hurt his pride as a man. so, he talked back in a poor attempt to defend himself. “no, i’m not!”

you quickly dismissed his whines, waving your hand at him uninterestedly. “yeah yeah, whatever you say, nerdy.” 

the nickname caught him off guard, confusion written all over his face; head tilted to the side. “nerdy?” 

you ignored him and got up, clapping your hands together. you stood up in front of his figure, who seemed to refuse to move from his place. you could see how his fingers had stopped grasping the fabric of his pants, shifting instead to the softness of the bed’s blankets. “okay! listen, i don’t know about you, but i’m not planning on staying here doing nothing.” you continued. “so, i’ll be your teacher today.”

you leaned forward, closer to him. “teacher?” he muttered, unsure if he could still breathe if he kept holding eye contact with you. 

“that’s right.” you rested your hands on his thighs, using them as support. “so, what’s your name, nerdy?”

“hongjoong.” he stuttered, fluttered by your closeness. he did his best to avoid looking down at your chest, fighting the urge to glance at the curve of your breasts, his focus straining to stay on your face. 

“hongjoong…” you hummed softly, slightly tilting your head. his name rolled off your tongue dangerously, almost as if you were savoring it. “pretty.”

when he said his name, you couldn’t help but analyze his face, dark irises scanning his flustered self with a huge focus. you frowned your brows softly when you realized: “he’s actually not so ugly you know…”

you nodded approvingly as you leaned even closer, your breasts now touching his own chest; lips only a few inches apart. a rush of excitement and nervousness flowed through his limbs, reddening his ears. “i’m yn.”

hongjoong whispered right on your lips. “i know.”

you chuckled, velvety tone laced with tease. “you’ve kept an eye on me for a while, hm?”

he realized he had given himself away too late. he was about to start rambling again. “i—“

his mind was desperately trying to look for an excuse, a way out of the moment of embarrassment he had put himself in; anxiety rushing through his blood. but before he could even utter a word, you smashed your lips against his, a mix of roughness and desperation coursing through you both. you didn’t waste any time before pushing your tongue into his mouth, and he hummed softly, happily accepting it. 

you leaned forward, pushing hongjoong over his back until his back was laid flat against the mattress. you didn’t break in any moment the kiss as you straddled his lap, pressing your clothed sex against his crotch. 

your hair covered his reddened face and his scrunched eyes, he was immersed in that kiss, deeply intoxicated by your aura, scent and taste. your tongue laced with his just felt right, and it awakened something deep within him. something he never experienced before. something he couldn’t quite define. 

you both were caught up in the heat of the moment, in your own world, until a voice was heard from the other side of the door, making you pull away, a string of saliva hanging from your lips and keeping you connected.

“mingi, the timer, man!” you could recognize wooyoung’s voice.

a faint “oh fuck i forgot” barely reached your eardrum. the loud boo of the whole group almost made you laugh. mingi started whining about being human and how humans make mistakes.“poor mingi” you whispered to yourself.

“y’all, mingi forgot to start the timer!” yunho started talking loud enough for the both of you to hear. “so time’s starts running from…” he paused briefly. “now!”

you turned to face hongjoong, locking gazes with him. he looked so helplessly cute under you, such a blushing mess. “lucky us, then. we got plenty of time.”

you leaned closer, grabbing his face and pulling him to you, forcing him to sit up straight whilst joining your lips together again. your fingers stroked his cheeks affectionately, slightly tilting his glasses to the side. you dominated the kiss since he wasn’t quite sure what to do, what to touch, what to feel. his hands stayed by the sides of his body, holding the sheets beneath him in a white-knuckled grip. 

your eyes remained closed as you tried to fully immerse yourself in the kiss. but with no touch from him, the lack of contact was beginning to feel both dull and unbearable. taking matters into your own hands, you broke the kiss for a brief moment just to whisper. “touch me.” you grabbed his wrists and guided them to the sides of your body, slowly trailing them to your lower back, brushing your ass. “wherever and however you want.”

with that, you dived in for another kiss, now feeling hongjoong’s hands caressing the places that your guidance allowed him to go, still a bit shy to go further. you started to get impatient, desperate. you sunk your hips down him and started swaying back and forth, trying to create some friction. the slow, rhythmic roll of your hips effortlessly coaxed moans and whines from hongjoong’s swollen lips. 

your tongues met in a heated clash, pressing, twisting, and tangling in a slow, intoxicating dance. you tried to match hongjoong’s sloppy pace, but it left you breathless, panting for air. “haa.. hongjoong— wait.”

“can’t,” was all he said before pressing his hands against your back and neck and pulling you to him, locking lips again.

but this time was different. this time hongjoong had gained enough confidence and built enough courage to start roaming his hands all over your covered back and trailing them down to your ass, playing and groping your buttocks. this time hongjoong was the one to insert his tongue into your oral cavity first. his kissing was still sloppy and unrefined, but it somehow stirred something deep in you, deep down. 

a familiar fluid started to pool down your panties, euphoric arousal coursing through your limbs, prickling your skin. your hands instinctively glided to his hair and started tugging it, your fingers laced with some locks of his fluffy hair. your panting and desperate state made hongjoong feel things he just wasn’t okay with, things that drove him up a wall. his clothed sex started to wake up, poking his pants and rising its fabric, creating a tent. his now hardened bulge tapped against your wet entrance insistently. you moaned at the feeling whilst hongjoong was doing his best to keep his whines at a low volume. spoiler: he couldn’t.

he’s a panting mess beneath you, eyes almost rolling back to his skull at the sensation, the satisfaction. the lenses of his glasses are now fogged up, the mist clouding his vision as his breath hitched in the heated air.

he exhaled. “fuck you’re too much.”

“am i?” you smirked teasingly, drowned in his expression, his state. his face was flushed from all the situation, his lips were swollen from all the kissing, his hair was messy from your fingers tugging it. and a sudden sensation of possessiveness washed over you.

your mind just couldn’t help but repeat like a mantra the word “mine”.

you were about to dive into a heated kiss again, start the kiss that’d be marked by that thought, the kiss that’d make hongjoong yours.

but just when you were about to do so, to claim the guy, the door bursted open.

wooyoung and jongho chimed in. “time’s uppp!” wooyoung blubbered, completely wasted and drunk. he stared at you and analyzed everything: the position, the ambience, the smell that lingered in the air. “oh my god, you were about to fuck.” he stated the obvious.

jongho sighed, grabbing his friend by his shoulders. “he’s drunk if y’all can’t tell.” he cleared up. “but yeah, time’s up. so get out of here and join us.” he announced before disappearing through the door. 

when the door clicked shut, you and hongjoong sighed loudly in unison and proceeded to laugh at the unintentional match, genuine smiles drawn on your faces. 

“i guess this is it then?” hongjoong spoke.

“what do you mean this is it, idiot.” you deadpanned, pulling yourself off his lap. as you brushed your hair with your fingers, trying to better it up, you continued. “you and i got unfinished business, sir.”

you winked at him before leaning in and pecking his lips. “you ain’t getting rid of me that easily.” you shared one final, brief kiss and pulled away. 

you chuckled softly before making your way towards the door, naturally bringing out your usual self when you met everyone again. “ayooo!” you hollered, being greeted by your euphoric and drunk friends as you closed the door behind you, leaving a poor flustered hongjoong sitting on the edge of the bed with an unbearable hard-on and his smart brain turned into mush.

days later, hongjoong was in the middle of a study session in the university’s library, head almost inside the philosophy book he was reading. 

suddenly, his phone vibrated against the desk, the dull brrr catching him off guard. he picked it and lit up its screen. a message from an unknown number popped up as the latest notification. his fingers swiped the screen and unlocked it, now able to read the text.

come over to my place tonight. there’s still some unfinished business we need to handle, nerdy.

a lustful glint sparkled in his eyes, and a devilish smirk curved up his lips.

everything about tonight promised to be dangerous, and neither of you was going to back down.

| masterlist

[fairestwriting]

Hi! Hope you're doing well! I love your writing, I got so excited when I saw you're rqs were open!!!

Could i request dorm leaders w/reader who sang a break-up song while they're dating w/a happy ending? not for a performance or anything, just listening to music and singing along and a mob character passing by heard it. then suddenly there's rumors around the school saying their relationship is falling apart. the reader doesn't know. the boys don't realize that it a big misunderstanding and think that the reader might not be happy with their relationship and they desperately try to make it up to the reader.

Kind of like this one including malleus and azul https://www.tumblr.com/coralinnii/697097733985730560/singing-a-break-up-song-while-dating-feat

sry for rambling, i really love the way you write the characters, if it's too much, don't worry about! thank you!

fjfejf thank you i hope you enjoy your rq too <3 this one takes me back…. throwback sunday

(Also happy (late) valentines day everybody! i wanted to post that that on time for it but it got. so long

𐙚 Riddle Rosehearts

Ironically, you might have even shown him that song before. Riddle is pretty out of the loop, so he’s always curious about what you’re listening to. He never thought that your enjoyment of the song had anything to do with your relationship. It’s just a song, right? And at first, he thinks the exact same when the rumor arrives at him through Cater, chastising him for spreading such baseless claims.

…But it doesn’t take too long for it to get to him. And wasn’t that one of your most listened songs too? He can never remember the titles very well. His uncertainty feeds on the words of others until they make complete sense to him. If you were really happy, why would you be so obsessed with that specific song, after all? Riddle starts to pick apart his own actions, trying to find what could have made you so unhappy… And the truth is, everything is not only going well, but he probably mixed up the song from the rumor with an unrelated song you’re actually obsessed with. His entire issue is built around an impression that you’ve been secretly wallowing all this time, all due to some awful thing he’s supposedly done— Without even noticing how much he hurt you, no less.

Suddenly, when you spend time together, he’s awkwardly asking if you’re really sure that this or that is really okay, like he did when you just started dating. You ask him what’s wrong, and he quickly, awkwardly, blurts out that he heard the rumors, and he was trying to make up for his actions… And you’re just standing there, confused.

Luckily, Riddle has just enough common sense that saying his worries out loud makes him realize how frankly insane he sounds. And when he hears that he was, in fact, thinking of the wrong song, his whole face is as red as his hair. You might have to hold back some laughter as you comfort him… Despite the ridiculousness of the situation, it does feel sweet that he’s so eager to make you happy. Even if it means having to fix a huge problem he doesn’t quite understand.

𐙚 Leona Kingscholar

There’s probably no shortage of rumors about your relationship. Good ones, bad ones, and a good few that were just weird— Leona says with his full chest that he thinks they’re all a waste of time, that it was just people being bored, or jealous, or both. He does wholly believe his own words. He also remembers every single thing he hears about you two.

Similar to Riddle, his initial reaction is that the rumor is just stupid. You listening to a song meant that you wanted to break up with him? Really? People must be running out of things to say, if they’re fixating on something so meaningless… And yet, he can’t keep himself from getting the urge to watch you more closely when you’re together.

Leona will die before he actually admits this rumor ever got to him, really. Even the people he overheard talking about it said it kind of seemed like a reach. He’s not about to start a conversation about it, or even openly express that some stupid bit of gossip had him so worried— But he still feels the need to watch. Do you get bored when you’re just sitting nearby while he’s supposedly sleeping? Do you look uncomfortable when he comes closer? Questions like that come up in his mind.

The answer, of course, is that you don’t. And that’s the end of it… or at least he wants to believe that. The rumor won’t come up unless you mention it, he just randomly comes off just a little softer than usual. It’d be hard for anyone to make the connection, surely Leona wouldn’t get that affected by something so silly, he said it was stupid himself. And yet, it’s still hard to miss how he visibly relaxes when you confirm that’s how you thought.

𐙚 Azul Ashengrotto

There’s all sorts of rumors going around about Azul himself, but they’re mostly just long debates on whether it’s worth getting involved with his deals or not. That’s easy enough to ignore when he has people coming in and out of the Lounge everyday. People who complain were just mad about the consequences they faced due to not reading the fineprint and all that.

This self awareness doesn’t help that much when the rumor comes to his attention, though. He’ll comment about how childish the people gossiping about you were to whoever tells him the news, but his words are hollow. Logic is already in the process of leaving his brain, entirely skipping over how ridiculous the whole thing was. It’s sudden enough to hit him with every mistake he might have made like a truck. The office door is slammed shut and locked so he go insane in peace. The thought of rumors themselves are what stands out the most. That had to be what drove you over the edge, right? Someone must have told you terrible things about him, and now you were miserable and confused and— And then he’s calling you, urgently asking for you to give him a chance to explain himself.

The whole “song” part of the rumor might as well not exist anymore. You ask him what this was all about, and he’s going on and on about how he swears whatever you heard about him wasn’t actually that bad and how he’s sorry that you’re getting caught up in all of this mess. You have no idea what it’s all about. It takes a bit of a back and forth for him to realize this. Then he’s just silent. And on instinct, as the realization hits him, he just hangs up, mortified.

You leave to go see him in person, worried or confused or amused or all of the above. You knock on his door, asking him what was up, what rumors he was talking about, he’s too embarrassed to answer for a bit. When he finally does, he looks at you so guiltily, you might even expect he’s about to make a serious confession— It does take a little effort not to giggle when he actually explains it. Insists to get you two some fancy dinner afterwards to make up for the “trouble”, no matter how much you insist you’re glad that it was just a misunderstanding.

𐙚 Kalim Al-Asim

Surprisingly, or maybe not, Kalim is actually quite used to people gossiping about him too. It doesn’t mean he’s the best at handling it, but even before deciding to work on becoming a more capable person, he was already a couple steps ahead from quite a few other people. Even compared to the other dorm leaders — or maybe, especially compared to them — he usually doesn’t have a very hard time ignoring what others say about him.

The first time he hears the rumor, it’s from a few Scarabia students whispering to each other in the corners of the dorm lounge. His first concern is calling out how rude it is to spread rumors about other people, and while he doesn’t have much of an aura of authority, people like him too much to not back off. He thought that was the end of it, and was almost succesful at fully ignoring the rumor, but he’s unlucky enough a particularly nasty someone catches on that it did bother him, despite it technically not showing on the outside.

And then it’s not just a problem, but a long running one. Because he doesn’t want to listen to people saying all those mean things about you! You’re always happy when you’re around him, there’s no way you’d be secretly holding a grudge over… what, really? You two don’t even fight! …That’s the sort of thing he’ll be telling himself, as time passes, and without him even fully processing the building anxiety, you start to wake up to… random gifts from your boyfriend, piled up at the door of your dorm room. How long had it been since you forgot about the song, when you reach the point of deciding to ask him what this was all about? Who knows. The gifts didn’t feel that odd at first, he just does that sometimes, but you were starting to run out of space, and Kalim was starting to act weird around you. So you bring it up… And he actually bursts into tears.

Poor guy, honestly. He’s a mess, saying he’s sorry, he didn’t know what else to do to make your not want to break up with him, all that. He’s saying he’ll let you go if that’s what you truly want when you interrupt him and ask what he’s even talking about, and he tearfully mentions he heard those rumors— That at this point might have even died down. You have to assure him it’s all just rumors for a while, and he tears up again, this time out of happiness. He’s not even going to think about how crazy it was that he got so deep into something that had no depth at all. He’s just too glad that you’re not upset.

𐙚 Vil Schoenheit

Vil’s initial reaction mostly depends on what sort of day he’s had. It’s harder to not overthink things when he’s already stressed — Not that he believes it in any case, it’s just unpleasant to hear either way. The whole thing sounds, frankly, just too shallow to truly hit him. How could anyone claim to know how you were feeling just because you liked this one specific song? How could they even confirm you actually liked that song at all, really… But people still talk about it, and that’s how it sticks to his thoughts.

He’s already dismissed the rumor itself, the question is whether it really came up out of nowhere or not. Maybe someone had noticed you were looking down, or you confided in a friend about relationship issues, and that’s what’s really behind all those flashy claims about the song — The idea makes him anxious. You two usually just talk it out if there’s an issue, so what could have happened? You’re caught off guard when he asks you out for lunch, just the two of you, right in the middle of the week because it’s the only time slot he has available.

You think maybe he just felt like doing something nice but still easygoing. So it definitely feels strange when he starts to speak up about how he’s aware he’s not perfect, but he’s willing to work on anything that might bother you, you realize he looks oddly serious for the situation—

You blink, telling him you knew that, but everything was fine. If anything was wrong, you would’ve just talked to him, like you always do. He stops on his tracks, suddenly feeling kind of silly. If it was anyone else, maybe he’d question if you really meant that, but you say it so easily it couldn’t not be the truth— Then you ask him if something is wrong, and he does his very best efforts to circumvent the topic, something about being told you were unhappy… You recall a friend bringing up the rumor to you, before that, and it feels hard to believe something so silly would get to him. It turns out to be a nice date anyway, though. Maybe something you could do more often?

𐙚 Idia Shroud

Honestly, even before he registers that all of this is over you enjoying a song, his brain is already going haywire. When it does hit that this was all over a song, though, he stops, and not because it’s all over a song. But instead because the gossip itself implied that you weren’t listening to it while wallowing by yourself— Then, right after, he wonders if that means things were even worse than they seemed. Did people know because you were telling your friends about it or something? The questions keep coming up, the logic getting more and more complicated inside his head…

Would it be better to check up on you? Straightforwardly ask if anything is wrong? There’s no way he could just do that, what would he do if it all turned out to be right, if you’ve been silently despising him this whole time? In the end, you don’t hear from Idia that day at all. Then Ortho calls you out of concer, not knowing what’s happening beyond the fact his brother is losing his mind. You can even hear him in the background, telling him to hang up.

…And after a day without any texts, and a call from Ortho that sounded like Idia might as well have been stabbed in his room, you rush over to his dorm. You hurry to check up on him, expecting something bad, and he’s actually shocked you’re worried about him. That you don’t outright hate him. Hearing that, you’re understandably confused.

Your reaction brings him back to reality a bit, prompting him to ask if he’s done anything wrong. You ask him what made him think that. He mentions something about a song. Music, of course, is the furthest thing from your mind right now, so you ask him which song— It soon becomes clear there’s been an insane misunderstanding. After relief hits, it’s a little awkward, and he’s apologizing for how crazy he must have looked. You’re just glad your boyfriend didn’t get jumped or anything like that. Details can be discussed later.

𐙚 Malleus Draconia

Malleus takes it all pretty seriously. You probably showed him the song yourself, since he gets curious about the music you like, and it did stand out to him that it’s breakup music— But he doesn’t consider that, by itself, a reason to worry. He’ll always believe your word over others, which is why it’s so confusing to him to hear that you were supposedly unhappy. And people were considering your taste in music as proof on top of it all? Would that mean that showing him the song was some sort of indirect message, then…?

It doesn’t feel in character for you, he thinks, but he doesn’t want to risk it. He does consider doing something to make up for his supposed mistakes, but since the topic of breaking up is on the table, he decides nothing could really be enough. And you were really so upset you were about to give up on him, he doesn’t know what he could do to make you feel better. In the end, he just decided to ask — right at the very next time he sees you, before saying anything else — why you wanted to break up with him.

”What”,you echo, and for a moment he wonders if you were really so resentful you were making fun of him, but that definitely doesn’t sound like something you’d do. He explains he heard people talk about it, saying he wanted to “hear your thoughts on the matter before believing anyone else”, that he was hoping to solve whatever the problem was. He’s so serious it stuns you, you tell him there aren’t any problems.

That confuses him. What did you mean when you showed him the song, then? Nothing, it turns out. You just liked the music. His worries dissipate soon after that, if you say it was all well, of course he’ll believe you. He does remind you to tell him if it’s not, because he doesn’t want that imagined scenario to become true at all, but he’s ready to just (very) gratefully set it all aside. Simple as that. Won’t get it if you seem to find the situation amusing, but won’t stop you from finding humor in it either.

if you like my work you can support me by commissioning me or tipping me on ko-fi ── ᵎᵎ ✦

[lifeasadorkwithnolife]

Protect You

Word Count: 3200

Azriel has always gone out of his way to keep Y/N out of harms way, but Rhys sends her on a mission anyway.

-------

Azriel and you weren’t exactly on the best of terms, despite the fact that you had been a part of the inner circle for centuries- he rarely spoke to you. At first it really hurt your feelings, was it something you did? But after the years passed you learned that sometimes you can’t change a male’s opinion, no matter how many times you tried.

               It was just another normal day at the house, you and Nessa were occupying chairs across from each other, reading in silence. Although your primary job was writing down Prythian’s true history, you still loved the library and reading all the books the house had to offer. You were never really adept for the front lines, no matter how much training Rhys put you through.

 The library was aglow from the setting sun from the large windows, and you felt the warmth on your face as you read. You could honestly stay like this forever. You and Nessa had a unique friendship- despite her forceful resistance to joining the inner circle and stubbornness to admit that sometimes she was wrong, you two had gotten along well.

               “Sometimes, I wonder if I will ever find a male like the ones we read about.” Nessa sighs, dropping the book in her lap. “They are just so…. In tune to their lovers’ feelings- I’ve personally never witnessed that before.”

               “I’m sure there are some males like that.” You smiled, meeting her dark eyes. The thought of Cassian crossed your mind, and the love for her that he wore openly on his shoulder. “At least you have a few centuries to find it now.”          

               “Yes, thank the cauldron.” Nessa rolled her eyes, pulling her book back up to eye level. After a few moments, she lowered it to meet your eyes. “Have you talked to the shadow singer lately?”

               Your eyebrows rose, and you set down your book, sitting up a bit. “You know me and Azriel don’t talk- what do you mean?”

               You were right- you and Azriel did not talk, if anything, he actively avoided talking to you at every opportunity. “I just feel at times- that you two might be a good couple, but I could be wrong.”

               “I promise you- you’re wrong. Azriel is the last person I could ever imagine being with.” You laughed, picking up your book. “I don’t believe he even has feelings- much less for me. But speaking of males- what about you and Cassian, have you ever thought about it?”

               “I’ve definitely thought about Cassian, but I am not sharing those thoughts with you.” Nessa laughed, throwing a pillow towards you. “He’s insufferable, but I can’t help who I’m attracted to-“

               “Y/N, the high lord has requested you.” You heard a deep voice behind you and nearly jumped out of your chair. Azriel was standing in the doorway, shadows slowly snaking up his arms. You had never seen him in this light, his skin was almost glowing, he was breathtaking. You froze in place, admiring the swirls of tattoos up his arms and leading into places that you wish you could see. Caldron, why couldn’t you control yourself. “Did you hear me?”

               “Yes, yes Az I heard you. Sorry, I’ll be right there.” You sighed, moving the blanket and getting up to slowly stretch. You had anticipated spending the whole day reading, so your outfit wasn’t exactly…. appropriate. You reached up to stretch, feeling the fabric of your shirt lift up past your navel. You heard the loud footsteps of the male walking away, and you sat back down.

               “You are down so bad for him, Y/n.” Nessa muttered, “I don’t know who you’re lying to, but it’s definitely not me. You should have seen the way that male looked at you just now...like he's starving."

               “I’m not lying to anyone- and I’ll be back as soon as I find out what our ‘high lord’ requests of me.” You laugh, throwing her pillow back and placing your bookmark. "And there is no way he looked at me like that, you've been reading too many of those books."

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

               “Would you feel comfortable going to the Spring Court?” Rhysand asks, tapping his finger against his chin as he stares at the excessively large map on the table. “I feel like it would really be helpful to get a sense of the…attitudes of the population there. I don’t feel like our high lord of the spring court is doing a great job with moral.”

               “Of course, anything you need.” You replied, “When do you need me to go?”

               “I was thinking today, if possible.” Rhys looked at you, “if that’s okay with you.”

               You nodded, looking at the map. “It should only be a couple days- but you’re well known here. You should probably wear a disguise and make this as discreet as possible. The last thing I need is you getting caught.”

               “I can handle that,” You smiled at Rhys, you two had been through so much over the years. When he went under the mountain, you were sure that you were going to lose your mind, Azriel and Cassian had lost theirs. “I promised you when you came back- I will do anything it takes to keep you here and keep Velaris safe.”

               Rhys nods, then his head perks up. “Go pack your things.” You nodded, turning and leaving the room. After a quick walk down the hall, you remembered the book that you had left sitting on the desk. You quickly turned to grab it, but as you placed your hand on Rhysand’s door handle you heard the hush voices of Rhysand and Azriel.

               “You cannot send her out there.” Azriel growled, his voice low. “We have spies for this very reason.”

               “Y/N will be just fine Azriel, she’s a big girl and can handle herself.” Rhysand chuckled; you could hear the smirk in his voice.

               “She’s going to get herself hurt out there, just let me handle it.” Azriel insisted, but Rhys didn’t reply. “it’s going to drive me crazy out, you know that right? Knowing that she’s out there in the spring court, and I’m stuck here and can’t do a thing about it? She’ll ruin everything!”

               You shook your head, ire filling your veins. How dare he? You rarely, if ever, go on missions. Sure, you weren’t as strong as Cassian or Azriel, and sure, you weren’t as experienced at combat or using your powers as them, but you were still useful- especially at reading emotions. You hesitated, removing your hand from the handle, torn between throwing open the door and ripping Azriel a new one, or going back to your room to cry.

               The decision was made for you when the door was opened, and Azriels dark eyes bore into yours. “Eavesdropping now?”

               “Fuck you.” You spat, looking between him and Rhysand. “I know that you think I’m weak- that I’m incompetent, but I can assure you I’m not. I can handle myself just fine.”

               “That’s not what I’m saying Y/N,” Azriel tried to interrupt, but you held up your hand.

“I’m going, and I’m not going to ruin anything okay? I will die before I ever let Tamlin get his hands on me or give up anything about this court. Despite the fact that you don’t seem to think I can handle myself.” He went to speak again, and you stopped him, “I’m packing my things, I just came back to grab this.” You stormed past him, grabbing your book off the desk.

               An emotion quickly crossed Azriel’s face, which he quickly concealed. “You’re right- I don’t believe you can handle it. Just stay here in that little library with Nessa and I’ll get this handled. The first time danger comes your way- you won’t be able to handle it. Let me handle it.”

               You stared at him, dumbfounded. “I’m glad I know how you truly feel Azriel, but I don’t care.” You walked away, storming down the hall, a middle finger pointing back at him.

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

               The spring court was… and absolute disaster. The territory was chaos, fae ran rampant and there seemed to be no order- even Tamlin’s guard was nowhere to be found. You sat in the attic of one of the only buildings that wasn’t burnt down and wrote in a journal that you would be bringing back to Rhysand- hopefully all the details would help.

               “Whos’ up there?” A gruff voice shouted, and you heard a loud bang as the floor from under you collapsed. You fell, crashing to the lower floor in a pile of hay. The breath left your lungs in a whoosh, and the pain from the fall echoed across your back. “Who are you? Why are you hiding?”

               You couldn’t respond, still waiting for the breath in your lungs to return. “Who are you?” The man shouted, sending a kick towards your stomach. You rolled over, coughing up whatever air was left. A gasp escaped your mouth as you tried to breathe in whatever your lungs would allow.

               The notebook was ripped from your hands, and the male started to read. You looked up at him through the haze of dust that floated around you due to the ceiling falling in, and although you could not read his facial expressions super clearly- you understood that you were screwed. You tried to quickly get up to make a run for it, but after one step you found that your ankle was severely bent in the wrong direction. The pain shot up your leg and you winced.

               “Well well well…” The man stated, “I’m sure my high lord would love to see you, the friend of the high lord who stole his bride.”

               You shook your head, but he pulled you up, and another male took your other arm. They tugged you out of the building, into the open clearing outside. Fae froze in their tracks, either holding baskets of vegetables, linens, or whatever else could be traded, they all froze to stare at you.

               You tried to remember whatever moves Cassian had showed you, but with a bad ankle, even if you could get out of this hold, there would be nowhere to go. You couldn’t give up any information, that was just not an option. The words you had told Azriel only a few days before came back to you- you would rather end your life, than give away any information about the night court.

               You knocked your head back, feeling the pang as your head hit the man in the lower jaw. His grip loosened ever so slightly, and you were able to turn and throw a punch at the first man, right in the eye. You felt the warmth around your hand and knew that you had severely injured him, possibly puncturing his eye. You tried to run, but your ankle wouldn’t allow it and you fell to the ground. The male came running back towards you, his eye shut and already swelling.

               You took the knife out of your sack, knowing what you had to do, there was no way that you would win this fight. You held the knife out, aiming it towards your chest, when a gust of dark wind picked it up and tossed it aside.

               One minute the men were coming towards you, the next they were backing away, hands in the air as they nearly tripped over themselves. You felt the air change around you, a familiar scent entering your nose, and you knew who it was- it was Azriel.

               Two knives flew towards the men, entering each of their chest with no issue. You sighed, leaning back into the ground and placing your hands over your face, not being able to help the tears filing your eyes. You felt two strong hands pick you up, and start walking you towards the forest.         

               “Did Rhys send you out here?” You sniffled, not being able to help it. “Did he assume I couldn’t do it?”

               “No, of course not.” Azriel replied, looking down at you, an expression you didn’t recognize on his face. “Please- don’t cry.”

               “Don’t tell me what to.” You mumbled, wiping your eyes with the back of your hands. “Just take me home- please.”

               Azriel nodded, winnowing you both back to the winter house.

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

               Your ankle was healed, but you refused to leave your room. You told Nessa you just didn’t feel well, but it was the shame in the pit of your stomach that you had afraid to leave. Rhys sent you on a secret mission, once of the most basic missions he could have asked, and you still fucked it up. Azriel was right.

               A knock sounded on the door, and you grumbled, turning over in bed. “Go away.” You mumbled, but the door opened anyways. “Nessa, please I’m not in the mood.”

               The door shut, and you turned to see… Azriel standing in the doorway. He had a book in one hand and a glass in the other, filled with water. “Are you here to rub it in? To tell me you were right?” You turned back over, slumping in bed.

               You felt the end of the bed sink as he sat, and placed the book and water on your nightstand, the book that you were reading when Rhys sent you off. “Y/n- I just want to talk.”

               “I don’t want to talk to you.” You whispered, staring at the setting sun outside the window. “You have had literal centuries to talk to me, but you haven’t, what’s changed?”

               “I came to say I’m sorry.” Azriel sighed, “I’m not very good at admitting that I’m wrong, but it’s something I’m working on.”

               “No Azriel, you weren’t wrong.” Tears stung your eyes again, and you sat up to face him. “You’re never wrong, and that’s the problem. You said I couldn’t handle it, you said I would ruin everything, and I did.”

               “No, you didn’t.” Azriel grabbed your hand, squeezing it. You froze, you had always wanted to feel him like this, always wanted to grab his hand, but had always been too scared- he would have never had welcomed it. “I need to be honest with you, and I’m going to say this once. You can reject me or push me away and I will never ask again- but please just hear me out now.”

               “Fine.” You whispered, wiping the tear from your eye. He stared earnestly at you, his eyes open and unguarded for the first time. He shook his head, looking away. “Just tell me.”

               “I can’t tell you when you’re crying- I can’t stand it.” He released your hand, standing up and turning towards the window, his back to you. “Y/N, I never believed you couldn’t handle it, I never believed that you would fail- but I just could not stand the possibility that it was a possibility.”

               “What are you talking about Azriel?” You asked, but he refused to turn around.

               “The reason Rhys doesn’t send you on missions, the reason he doesn’t put you in danger, is because he owes me one.” Azriel said, his hands folding behind his back. “Knowing that you are in danger, knowing that you are somewhere I can’t protect you- I can’t get anything done, I can’t be productive, and my shadows don’t agree with it either. It literally drives me fucking crazy Y/N.

               He turns to you, his eyes wide open, almost crazed. You could recognize his expression now, it was fear. “The whole time you were there, I watched those men watch you. It wasn’t any fault of yours, it was just pure luck. You did so well.”

               “Wait- you were there? The whole time?” You shouted, ripping off the covers and revealing your pajamas. “Wow- you must really not have trusted me, you just assumed I would fuck it up.”

               “Are you not listening to what I’m saying?” Azriel shouted, running his hands through his disheveled hair. “I cannot live knowing that you are in danger! Rhysand knew full well that I would not be able to sit here idly by as you risked your life out there, without me there to protect you in case things went wrong. Y/N, I can not live without you, you must see that.”

               The bed groaned under your weight as you sat back down, unsure of the words. “Y/N, please. I told you I would tell you once. I cannot ever- ever- put you in a situation where you are unsafe. If it were up to me, you would be in this fucking house all day reading your books, and I would work twice as hard just so you wouldn’t have to.”

               “I know its unreasonable, I know it’s crazy, but some instinctual part of me just can’t let you put your life at risk.” He whispered, moving to the floor and kneeling, grabbing your hands. “Your work here is important, just as important as fighting on the front lines. Please- for me, just stay here.”

               “Why do you feel this way Azriel?” You asked, pulling your hands from his. “no offense- but you have spent the last 2 centuries avoiding me at every opportunity. I have tried to be friends, I have bought you books I thought you might like- hell, I still even go to that stupid bakery and buy you a cake on your birthday every year- but you still don’t talk to me. And now you come around and ask me to keep myself out of danger? I need a good reason Azriel.”

               “I love you, Y/n.” Azriel shouts back, grabbing your hands back. “From the day I met you, I have loved you. I love you when I watch you read your books, I love you when you laugh with everyone BUT me, I love you when you stare at the night sky. And how was I supposed to tell you when you’ve made it so painfully obvious you could never love me?”

               Azriel stopped, clearing his throat and backing up. “But now I understand, you don’t feel the same. Just please keep yourself safe- if not for my sake, then yours.”

               “Azriel- stop, please.” You whispered, more tears coming to your eyes. “I…I have always hated when you left too.” You looked at him, and he turned to look back at you. “I have looked at other males and found myself comparing them to you- every single time. It hurt me so much when I overhead what you and Rhys said about me. I’ve always known that I’m not as strong as you or Mor, but hearing my worst fears confirmed-‘

               “I didn’t mean what I said.” Azriel interrupted, giving you a small smile. “I was trying to find any reason for you not to go- or at least send me with you. You can handle yourself- but I can’t handle myself while you do. I heard what you said about me and you never working out, I was angry about that and angry at him, I just wasn’t in control of my emotions.”

               “Please don’t accept any more missions from that asshole.” Azriel grew serious, his eyes darkening with anger. You grabbed his hand, squeezing it slightly, nodding. “I know you feel like you can’t say no, but just tell him to fuck off.”

               You laughed, choking on the tears. “I’m not going to tell him that Az.” You whispered, you went to touch his face, then hesitated a couple inches away. He moved his face towards your hand, and you cupped his cheek. His stubble grazing your palm, and butterflies filling your chest. “You…really feel that way?”

               “I swear it to you.” Azriel, covered your hand in his. “If you let me, I will spend every day protecting you for the rest of my life.”

               You nodded, and you felt the relief in the breath he exhaled. “I love you too Azriel.”  

[sweatersexual]

I think you do make some fair points, and they're much better thought out than most of the criticism directed at Lirin, so I really appreciate that.

I think the main issue here is that the flashbacks in twok were very much from Kaladin's point of view, so any developments between Lirin and Tien, or the other family members and the rest of Hearthstone, happened entirely offscreen.

We don't see the decade plus of rapport Lirin built with the people of Hearthstone before Roshone showed up. Yes, there was uncertainty from the townsfolk regarding his science-based care model, and being the only second nahns in the town did create some social rifts between them, but I don't think Lirin and Hesina would have settled there in the first place if they didn't form any deep connections or friendships with their neighbors. Lirin admits as much to Kaladin. We know that even when Roshone is driving that wedge between them and the rest of the town, they are receiving support from their community that Kaladin doesn't see.

I think that points to Lirin and Hesina not wanting to cut off well-established ties just because they were hitting a rough patch. You're right, they wouldn't have been bad people for leaving, but also, idk, to me a lot of the arguments contending that Lirin should have left Hearthstone sound a bit like redditors proclaiming that someone should definitively end their 10 year marriage based on what they know from one AITA post. There's context we're missing here, but what we do see is telling. When Kaladin floats the idea of the whole family moving to Kharbranth, Tien's first reaction is "but I like it here." That doesn't sound like a kid who's completely socially isolated.

I think you do make a good point that there was probably some disregard to how the tension was affecting Kaladin’s mental health. Like yes, some of the people who threatened Lirin ended up giving them food later, but Lirin didn't think to demand an apology from them to Kaladin, the child who witnessed that violence? Would that have helped? I don't know, again, we're missing a lot of context here.

But when Kaladin returns to Hearthstone, Oroden is being looked after by the neighbor girls. Lirin and Roshone have buried the hatchet as far as they are able to, that's part of why Lirin is embarrassed when Kaladin punches Roshone in the face. A year after that, Lirin and Hesina are coordinating the smuggling of refugees out of Herdaz, with the help of everyone in town. We have six years of development between Lirin and Hesina and their neighbors, which takes place pretty much entirely offscreen.

And you're also right that we can't assume a relationship was good when we don't see evidence for it in the text. We don't know what kind of care Lirin may have taken to find an apprenticeship Tien would've been suited for. We do see that Tien has some aptitude for woodcarving, but there is a personality mismatch between him and his master. Is it because Lirin didn't try harder to find a better fit for Tien? I don't necessarily think you're wrong to assume that, but I think there's scant evidence the text gives us to support any kind of conclusion on that front.

I don't think it's fair to say Lirin writes Tien off when he's conscripted, though. Lirin immediately argues against it when Tien's name is called. Amaram has to physically hold Lirin back from stepping up to Roshone. Lirin only relents when it's promised Tien won't be in a combat position, because there's nothing else he can do. He cries for BOTH his sons. That is not a man who is writing anyone off. Yes, he doesn't see how comforting it is to Tien when Kaladin volunteers to go, but I don't think he's a bad father for being angry and hurt that his sons are both risking their lives, when one of them has a choice in the matter. I just don't.

If you give lirin shit for staying in hearthstone you're wrong. It is made VERY clear in the text that while his family was under financial strain under Roshone, they were NOT starving. They weren't eating GREAT food but they were eating. They didn't go without any major necessities. And they could afford medical supplies on top of it. Also it's wild that people assume they could afford to move if they couldn't afford to eat. And Lirin says they could afford to move

Not going to downplay that financial stress is bad for a kid's home life but at the same time, you can tell that Lirin and Hesina were shielding Kaladin and Tien from most of it, which is what good parents do when they've fallen on hard times

And yeah, it would be a dick move to deprive an entire town of their ONLY medical professionals just because of a grudge. Do the lirin haters know what community building is and that you're not going to always get along with the people you're in community with. At the end of the day they were practicing mutual aid and I hope the lirin haters remember that the next time they call him a liberal centrist or whatever

[thatfrailsoul]

– I watch the skies getting light as I write

tarot pick a pile reading ( → 1, 2, 3 )

pictures from pinterest → one, two, three

One step after another. One shaken breath. One look around you, confused, as you are trying to understand what is real, what is good and what is bad… What you got through, the things you’ve endured and accepted from the same hands that you thought would only caress you, take care of you, protect you… With that one fear of making the same mistakes. Of never learning and calling upon yourself the same fate again, as you hold another hand.

After surviving a fever that lasted a little too long, I'm back again, with this new reading from our Divinatory Jukebox!♡ I still feel a little meh, so for a while I will do readings that are slightly shorter, so I can come back gradually without overwhelming myself. And so for today, and through the song “How to disappear” by Lana Del Rey, your inner self has a little story to tell you, about what it is holding deep down in your heart, hiding it, not being able to release it, not before being fully able to understand it. What it was, why it did happen, how so much pain was able to overwhelm you right when you felt so safe… This reading will be a little message for you about your journey of love, the one that you are so eager to go through, to make progress in, without realising how your own hurt heart is holding you back, too afraid of feeling again the same pain of the past now, when those wounds are still bleeding so much.

Give yourself a moment. Slow down your breath, feel it. Put aside any judgement, overthinking or convictions… And just follow the pile that caught your gaze more, the one that will allow you to connect to yourself and receive this needed message.

And let me know what pile you chose..!♡

P.s. A little question for you ♡

{ Thank you so much for letting me know!♡ }

– Pile One,

the child: the six of cups and the knight of wands

It was never your fault. All the people that you met. The bonds you had. The things they did and said… It never was because of you. Of how you were, your worth or what you did. And it never could've been different, no matter how much the regret makes it seem possible or real.

There are so many ways in which a situation can evolve, so many different outcomes that depend only on what we are willing to do and want. It's true. But the past is a whole different story. It is something that we can’t reach. And that, fortunately, can never grasp us no matter how much we fear it.

And you need to understand it. To feel it. A truth that is so simple that is just overlooked, never considered by our judgemental and overthinking mind. The fact that we are safe here. Now. You are safe. Because you are not anymore with those people, not stuck in those suffocating moments that felt like an eternity of hurt.

You are here now. And it is new, every single second of it. At each step, each moment, each new breath… You enter a new reality of possibilities, created with your decisions, with your awareness and confidence that you won’t allow it to happen ever again. And it is enough. Truly. To protect you. It is enough to put miles and miles between you and them, or all those reflections of their meanness and cruelty of which you sometimes catch a glimpse in others that come too close to your heart.

You are safe here, with your own self. You have enough protection and guidance. Enough to not make again those mistakes, even if they never were yours in the first place and you simply learned from them through all this pain. You are doing well. No matter if you are getting closer to someone or, contrary, are hiding for a moment to heal and rest. No matter if it is all like you wanted and imagined, or completely the opposite and frustrating in how slow or fast it is. No matter if you are making a decision, opening your heart again, or are still waiting, still unsure… You are doing well. It is your journey. Only yours. Even when it seems to be influenced so strongly by the others. It is still and only yours to live and follow. And no matter how you will do it, it will always be the right way, the one that will be enough for your heart.

Don't put even more pressure on yourself. Don't fuse the past, of which you are still so afraid, and the future, that you are already overthinking, in this ball that you are ready to throw at yourself again and again. Let them go for a moment, detach them. Not from yourself, but from each other. Don't force the past, with your fears and convictions, to come into your future and shape it. Because it never was supposed to do it, it never wanted it, if we’d talk about it like it is a personification of some sort…

It's the past for a reason. You already got through it. You already lived it all. So allow yourself to stop keep on doing it in the now. Or in the future. Don’t look at this life through the lenses of someone that you are not anymore. Nor through those of the ones that wounded you, betrayed you, even if it still hurts. Let those situations and memories alone. Let them be. In their own eternal moment. In the space and time that was created just for them. They don't need more of it, they don't need for you to sacrifice your present moments or the future ones. And you don't need it in order to stay safe.

You already learned from them. What you needed and even more, even those lessons that weren't yours. You gained the strength, the confidence. You healed enough to live different moments and connections, to experience a different type of love… You just need to become aware of it. Of the fact that there is no need to keep on fearing, aggressively protecting yourself from it. Whatever that “it” might be. It will not repeat. It will be all different. And, in the good and in the bad, you are ready for it. You just need to realise and live it.

{ ♡ }

– Pile Two,

the tree: the queen of cups and the temperance

Even though it is much better and gentle to hear that it never was supposed to be this way, that you never were destined to feel so much pain… That it wasn't your fault, nor the consequences of who you were and what you wanted… Even if it would be so much easier to heal those wounds if you would hear all of this… It still wouldn't be a complete truth. And you would know it deep down, you would have that uneasy feeling, that fear that it might happen again, because you would be aware of the fact that it was indeed because of what you did and said, to others or to yourself.

It was bound to happen. Your heart was destined to be scratched and crushed. In that moment or in another. In the hands of that person or in the ones of someone else… perhaps even yourself. It would've happened either way. Because it was the only thing that could've break through that wall of delusion, entitlement, a little immaturity, that was creating so many wrong convictions in you about the connections, about the shapes and ways of love. That pain and the feeling of betrayal… were truly the only things that could get you angry enough to unveil that mirror that you never looked in. It was the only way to make you see. Who you were, your own actions and words, your needs and desires, that often weren't so aligned. It was the only way to turn your gaze, your scrutiny and judgement inwards. To you. And not only to others, that so often simply reacted to how you were.

It is not an easy subject. The one of the maturity, of growing, of realising our own mistakes and for the first time, after so long, seeing the uncomfortable truth that it wasn't only others, the source of so much challenge and pain. It is not easy to listen to all those sudden conclusions and answers that our mind starts to find, when it is alone with our heart… And it is even more difficult to accept them, to admit that we too did our part in creating those battles in which we got stabbed…

But you did it. No matter if you wanted it, decided to take that time and reflect, or if it just came crashing down on you in the moment that you were already so tired and consumed that you couldn't ignore or postpone it. You did it. To your own self. You found a way to listen to you, to the truth, to allow you to show yourself how the things really were as you got through them, not seeing nothing but attacks and betrayals. You did it. You stayed there for a moment. You let it sink in. Until it changed something in you, even if those wounds still continued to sting.

Your healing became your growth. And each stitch on your heart started to feel sweet and sour in its pain, because of the knowledge that it wasn't just useless hurt. It had a reason, a motive, that you can now escape and avoid because you know what are those things that can trap you in them.

It gives you confidence, that new knowledge and awareness of yourself, enough to make you feel ready for another journey. For a new connection in which you can practice the things that you learned, making them truly work… But it is a little too soon now. You still need those stitches to keep you together, to burn a little to remind you of the consequences of impulsive and rushed steps that you shouldn't take if you want to take care of yourself. And this means that you are not ready. Not until those wounds will be only scars. Scars that you don't try to forget about and hide away. But those that you respect and are proud of, the ones that you look at without feeling regret, shame or rage. Those that you honour, by making the steps that never would make your body, your heart, go again through all that pain.

You need a little more time. A little more patience. Those feelings and connections that you strive for will not go anywhere. They will wait for you to be truly ready. They will wait because they know that it is best this way, that it is worth it, for you to heal completely first, before doing the next step.

{ ♡ }

– Pile Three,

the paths: the moon and the five of wands

It wasn't really your choice to be here. To be alone, to feel so tired and cold. It never was your intention, not even for a second, to remain without anyone… It never was the reason behind your actions and your words. And yet they led to this. To feeling so misunderstood in every connection and situation, to seeing their eyes so hurt or full of rage, even when you chose your words so carefully, as you only tried to explain what you needed, what you felt…

It feels a little like a losing game. The one you can never win no matter how hard you try, not when the rules change every single damn time. The people, their thoughts and feelings, their unique way of seeing a connection, what love is supposed to be… It is just tiring and confusing. Especially for a heart that never wanted so many complications, so many “adventures”. A heart that so innocently and genuinely only looked for love, in any way, shape or form.

It really makes you slow down, all of this, so many challenges, difficulties, arguments and hurt. It makes you reflect on whether this is really what you want. If it is worth it at all. If you really can't live without it to the point of finding somewhere that strength and patience to keep on trying no matter what…

But, what if, the desire and need for this unconditional and powerful feeling, did indeed led you to a journey of love? What if they still worked, all those wishes spent on this… but just in a way that you didn’t know you needed to experience first?

You were so eager, so open, so ready for it… You did so much in the name of love, never pretending to find a specific type of it, just wanting to feel it once… And it was given to you, a journey of love. Of love for yourself. And the urge to take care and protect every inch of you, exactly like only a person truly in love would've done.

Through the ones that came closer, their often annoying or painful ways; through others that are further, their fairytale like stories that made you feel jealous and simply sad because this is not what you have; through the experiences, the ups and downs, the never ending frustrating stories and only few feeble joyful moments… You did go through a journey. And you did find love. The one of the truest and strongest form. You found love for yourself. Who you were. Who you are. And who you can and will become.

It is not what you looked for nor expected, it's true. But it is exactly what you needed to experience and learn. Before letting others teach you what love truly is, you needed to understand it on your own, to set those boundaries, expectations, limits that only those that are worthy can overcome. Those that you will see from miles away, feel so naturally and instantly. Because now you simply know what love is, respect and kindness, and you can recognise it in every gaze of those that truly can embody it, making you feel safe.

{ ♡ }

_

[blondemrk]

Hi can i do envelope 2 with mark 🐯

LOST TIME

p mark x fem!reader genre angst wc 1.2k

the sound of tires rolling over wet pavement fills the silent streets as a black van slows to a stop in front of the venue. the neon lights above the entrance flicker against the dark sky, and the muffled hum of a crowd seeps through the brick walls. the air is cold, damp with the remnants of rain, but mark barely notices as he steps out, hood pulled over his head, gaze drifting across the unfamiliar yet familiar city.

it had been years since he last walked these streets.

years since he left without looking back.

and years since he last saw you.

his fingers tighten around the strap of his bag as he follows the security team inside. the venue isn’t massive—not like the arenas he’s used to—but there’s a strange comfort in the intimacy of it, in knowing that this place, this city, holds pieces of his past that he abandoned a long time ago.

he doesn’t know why he agreed to come back. nostalgia, maybe. or guilt.

maybe you.

maybe the hope that after all this time, you’d still be here, still waiting, still willing to see him after he disappeared without a trace.

but that would be selfish, wouldn’t it?

you and mark were inseparable as kids, bound by a friendship that felt unbreakable. you spent summers biking through the neighborhood, sharing headphones as you lay on the grass, talking about the future like it was something you could control.

back then, mark’s dreams were small—simple. he wanted to make music, to write songs that made people feel something. you believed in him before anyone else did, sitting cross-legged on his bedroom floor while he scribbled lyrics in a worn-out notebook.

“you’ll make it big one day,” you had told him, grinning. “i’ll be your biggest fan.”

he laughed, nudging your shoulder. “you’ll be right there with me, right?”

“always.”

but “always” had an expiration date.

the day mark got his acceptance letter to train in korea, everything changed.

he was ecstatic, eyes shining with the kind of excitement you had never seen before. and you were happy for him—so, so happy—but beneath that joy was something bitter, something selfish.

“you’re really leaving, huh?” you had asked, trying to sound teasing, even though your voice wavered.

mark hesitated before nodding. “yeah… but it’s not forever.”

but it was.

at first, he tried. he texted, called, sent voice messages telling you about his training, his struggles, the late-night practices that left him exhausted but fulfilled. and you held onto those messages like lifelines, responding every chance you got, telling him about your mundane life in comparison.

but slowly, the messages became less frequent.

the calls stopped.

the time zones stretched the distance between you, and suddenly, you weren’t part of his life anymore.

you told yourself you understood. he was chasing his dream, living the life he always wanted. who were you to hold him back?

but understanding didn’t make it hurt any less.

the coffee shop on 3rd street is the same as he remembers—warm lighting, the scent of espresso, the low hum of conversations overlapping.

but the moment mark steps inside, he feels out of place.

his hands are clammy as he orders, shifting from foot to foot as he glances around. he doesn’t even like coffee that much, but this was your favorite place. he wonders if you still come here.

if you’d even recognize him after all this time.

the barista calls his name, and just as he reaches for the cup, he hears it.

a laugh.

soft, familiar. a sound he hadn’t heard in years, yet it still manages to send a sharp pang through his chest.

his gaze snaps to the corner of the café.

and there you are.

sitting by the window, a book in one hand, a drink in the other. the sight is so painfully familiar that for a second, he forgets how much time has passed.

you look… older. not in a bad way. just different. the softness of youth is gone, replaced by something quieter, more mature. he wonders if you’ve changed or if he just doesn’t know you anymore.

he takes a shaky breath. he shouldn’t disturb you. you look happy. peaceful.

but then your eyes lift, and suddenly, he’s frozen.

shock flickers across your face, but it disappears just as quickly, replaced by something unreadable.

mark swallows, gripping his cup tighter as he takes a hesitant step forward.

“hey,” he says, voice barely above a whisper.

for a moment, you just stare at him, as if trying to determine if he’s real. then, slowly, you set your book down.

“mark.”

it shouldn’t hurt, the way you say his name—carefully, cautiously, like he’s a stranger.

like he isn’t the same boy you once promised to stay beside forever.

the air between you is thick with unspoken words. you agreed to talk, but now that you’re here—now that you’re sitting across from him in a quiet corner of the café—mark realizes he has no idea what to say.

he should apologize. should tell you he’s sorry for leaving, for never looking back, for letting the distance turn into silence.

but before he can, you speak first.

“you look good.”

it’s polite. distant.

not the way you used to talk to him.

mark forces a smile. “so do you.”

a beat of silence.

then, you exhale, setting your cup down. “why are you here, mark?”

the question is simple, but it carries weight.

mark shifts uncomfortably. “i—i had a concert here. thought i’d… check out the old places.”

you hum, nodding, but you don’t look convinced.

“i didn’t mean just here,” you clarify. “i mean… why now? why after all this time?”

mark clenches his fists. he wishes he had a good answer. wishes he could say something that would make up for the years of absence, for the messages left on read, for the calls never returned.

“i don’t know,” he admits quietly. “i guess i just… missed you.”

a sharp exhale. you look away, fingers curling around your mug.

“you don’t get to say that,” you whisper. “not after disappearing for years.”

mark flinches. he deserves that.

“i know,” he murmurs. “i messed up. i—i should’ve tried harder.”

“you didn’t try at all, mark.” your voice isn’t angry. just tired. “do you even know how long i waited? how many times i told myself you’d call back? that you’d keep your promise?”

mark swallows the lump in his throat. “i—”

“but you didn’t,” you continue. “you left, and i had to be okay with it. i had to move on. and i did.”

something cracks in his chest.

“you’re right,” he says hoarsely. “i don’t deserve to ask for anything. i just… i wanted to see you. even if you never want to talk to me again, i just needed you to know that i—” he stops, inhaling sharply. “that i never forgot about you.”

your expression softens—just barely.

for a moment, neither of you speak.

then, you sigh, rubbing your temple. “i don’t know if we can go back to how things were, mark.”

“i know,” he whispers. “but maybe… maybe we can start again?”

a pause.

then, finally, you meet his gaze.

and for the first time that night, your lips twitch into something almost like a smile.

“maybe”

and that’s enough.

for now.

be prepared for the next one... its SO SAD.

[emvsswrites]

overthinker - ft. megumi fushiguro

synopsis- being comforted by megumi after s shitload of work

tags- hurt/comfort, mentions of overwork, mentions of physical touch, panic attack, megumi is bad at feelings but like really good yk?, fluff, not beta read, this shit sucks

word count- 0.66k

‧₊˚♪𝄞࿐₊˚⊹‧₊˚♪𝄞࿐₊˚⊹‧₊˚♪𝄞࿐₊˚⊹‧₊˚♪𝄞࿐₊˚

Being a teenager is hard shit. Being one with countless expectations placed on you is harder. You had to be the best at everything given to you—whether it’s education, extracurriculars, anything that you did.

Right now, you had a research paper due for biology, a song to practice for your (instrument) class, two pages of statistics homework, a writing assignment for english, and it was fucking hell.

As you sit at your desk, staring at all of the work, you could feel your hands begin to tremble and breathing quicken the ever slightest bit.

For the first time in a bit—you were scared.

How would you get all of this done? It’s all due soon, and if it’s not all perfect then your grade is going to be affected, and every detail must be paid attention to, but there’s no time to do that, and all of a sudden you’re all pathetic and panicking, and crying, and-

“Hey.”

—an arm on your shoulder. Upon realizing that someone is in fact there and saw you like this, you wipe your tears almost on instinct, composing yourself enough to turn and see who it was. It was Megumi. How pathetic! Your boyfriend had to see you like this and now he probably hates you for it-

“I need you to calm down, yeah? just breathe, follow my breathing, it's alright..”

Megumi was never good at these kinds of things. But for you? Oh, he would learn to recite 6.19k digits of pi backwards for you if it made you happy. He may not admit it, but he is so smitten with you, and so you being in this state is not okay.

Your thoughts were racing right now. Why is he not upset? Why is he helping you? Why is he not mad?

“I-“ You stammered, your words stuck in your throat.

“No.” He chided, his tone firm yet soft.

Megumi kneeled in front of you, lightly grasping your hand with both of his and placing it on his cheek.

“Listen to me. You aren’t going to argue back, and you aren’t going to continue to panic like this. You are not in danger, and I will and always will be here. Just breathe, please..”

You took quick, shaky breaths as you tried to calm yourself, your trembling hands beginning to settle in his touch. With his free hand, he guided you to the floor with him, having you sit on his lap in his embrace as he stroked your hair.

He sat there with you for a while, waiting for his actions to mollify you. With your head buried in his chest, he glanced at the amount of work on the table— God, how much did they give you?

Once you had eventually managed to pull yourself together, you uttered the first things that came to mind.

“I-I’m sorry….It’s just- i have a lot to do right now, and I don’t know how I can finish it all, and it has to be-“

“That’s enough.”

Megumi silenced you, his hold on you tightening slightly.

“You’re doing it again—overthinking it.”

“..What..?”

“You’re overthinking this situation. Listen, you don’t have to over analyze all your work like you always do. Not everything has to be planned to a T. I can help you finish some of this, okay? Just rest for a bit—you look like you need it.”

You chuckled softly, a slight smile forming on your face.

“..Thank you, Megumi..”

After spending a bit of time resting with him, you both got to work and managed to finish in about three hours. You were certainly in a much better mood than when you began.

‧₊˚♪𝄞࿐₊˚⊹‧₊˚♪𝄞࿐₊˚⊹‧₊˚♪𝄞࿐₊˚⊹‧₊˚♪𝄞࿐₊˚

author notes- man its like 1am im catching some z’s after this i was out all day☹️

[chrissssssmut]

Could you write a han sohee x male reader story that’s slice of life/realistic? Thank you!

Almost, Always.

Han So-hee x Male Reader

AN: Felt really sad today so i decided to make this request. I actually finished 3 stories but will upload if i feel like it hehe. ♥️

Seoul in winter always felt like a memory—soft, fleeting, and cold in a way that seeped into your bones if you let it. The city pulsed with neon signs and the chatter of people slipping into warm cafés, the scent of roasted chestnuts lingering in the air.

You weren’t sure why you agreed to meet her.

Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe it was nostalgia. Or maybe, deep down, you always knew you’d say yes.

Han So-hee.

She was waiting by the café window when you arrived, a wool coat draped over her shoulders, her hair tucked neatly behind one ear. You used to tease her about that, how she always had to make sure at least one side of her face was showing. She once told you it was a habit from childhood, something about being called "too pretty to hide." You remember laughing, telling her she was ridiculous, and she had smiled—that rare, unguarded smile that made you forget how to breathe.

That was years ago.

Now, she looked up, her eyes scanning the room until they landed on you. There was a flicker of something—recognition, hesitation, maybe even relief. But it was gone before you could name it.

"You're late," she murmured as you slid into the seat across from her.

"You asked me to come last minute," you countered, shaking the cold from your jacket.

A ghost of a smile. "Still bad at taking responsibility, I see."

You wanted to say, And you still love pushing my buttons. But instead, you exhaled a quiet laugh, the warmth of the café barely reaching the spaces in you that still ached.

The conversation started carefully, like tiptoeing across a frozen lake. She asked about your work. You asked about hers. She told you about Paris—how she got lost in Montmartre, how she missed Korean food so much she cried over an overpriced bowl of instant ramen. You told her about your new apartment, how it didn’t feel like home yet.

There were moments when it almost felt normal, like no time had passed at all. But the silences stretched longer between words, settling between you like the weight of everything unspoken.

"So why did you ask me to meet you?" you finally asked.

She hesitated, fingers tracing the rim of her cup. Then, softly—"I just wanted to see if it still hurt."

Your breath caught.

You swallowed hard. "Does it?"

She looked up then, and you wished she hadn’t. Because her eyes held everything—the quiet ache, the regret, the love that never fully left.

"A little," she admitted. "But not in the way I thought it would."

"How did you think it would?"

She exhaled, her breath fogging the window beside her. "I thought it would feel like reopening a wound. But it's not like that. It’s more like…" She searched for the words. "More like pressing on an old bruise, just to see if it’s still there."

Your fingers curled around your cup. Yeah. You knew exactly what she meant.

Outside, the first snowfall of the season had begun, tiny white specks drifting down under the glow of streetlights. People walked by, some alone, some huddled together, their laughter muffled by the glass.

"I loved you," she said suddenly.

Your heart clenched. "I know."

"And you loved me."

You nodded, because there was no point in denying it. "Yeah."

She smiled, but it was a sad kind of smile, the kind you give when you've already made peace with something. "We were good once, weren’t we?"

You felt your throat tighten. We were everything. But instead, you just whispered, "Yeah."

She reached across the table then, hesitating for only a second before her fingers brushed against yours. Her touch was warm. Familiar. It sent a thousand memories rushing back—lazy Sunday mornings, the way she’d laugh when you kissed the tip of her nose, the quiet comfort of just existing together.

And then, just as quickly, she pulled away.

"I should go," she said, reaching for her coat.

You nodded, though every part of you wanted to say, Stay. Just a little longer.

She stood, wrapping the scarf around her neck. For a moment, she just looked at you, like she was memorizing the moment, the version of you that existed here, now.

"Take care," she murmured.

And then she was gone, disappearing into the city, her footsteps swallowed by the snow.

You sat there for a while, staring at the empty chair across from you, the warmth of her lingering in the space between your fingers.

Outside, the snow kept falling.

Some things melted away.

Some things stayed.

BRO THIS SHIT MADE ME SAD NGL T_T

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

“i just don’t get it. you're not some soulless monster like everyone else seems to think, you're just… hurting. i don’t know if anyone else was listening, but i was, when you did that whole take over the world thing, and i know you're not happy trying to kill us all. so… why?”

metal gestured at his lack-of-mouth with his remaining arm, shaking his head, and amy covered her mouth in shock. “oh yeah! i forgot you can’t talk when like that, so…” she pulled a sketchbook and a glitter-pink pen out of nowhere, placing them on the table next to him.

slowly, he wrote a reply, pressing the pen down harshly enough it bled into the pages beneath it. when he held it out, the words were in shaky block caps. amy got the sense he'd never written something without a keyboard in his life. “MY HAPPINESS IS IRRELEVANT. I SERVE MY PURPOSE.”

“yeah, but why? you don’t have to anymore. you’re safe here.”

he was faster, writing the next part, and his penmanship was noticeably improved already. it was kind of spooky how quickly he learnt that stuff. “YOU KIDNAPPED ME.”

“well, you kidnapped me first, so it’s only fair!” amy put her hands on her hips, pouting. “besides, i couldn’t just leave you there, right? you looked so sad, lying there on your own. it’s not right.”

“I FAILED. I DESERVE IT. BESIDES, FATHER WILL BE BACK EVENTUALLY. HE ALWAYS IS.”

“and he's left you abandoned and destroyed before?” he nodded, and amy's heart sunk. she had her suspicions, with what he was saying during his edgy teen thing, but it still hurt. metal might have been a creepy robot copy, but he was also a person, and no person deserved abuse. “well, i don't think you deserved that! i think you deserve to be happy. and i think you should stop hurting people for a stupid guy who leaves you to rot!”

the strange robotic noise metal made almost sounded like laughter. “YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND, DO YOU? I AM PROGRAMMED TO DESTROY, TO CONQUER. TO DOMINATE. I DON'T DO IT FOR HIM.”

“but can’t you just… nor do that? you- you took over the eggman empire, right? so you can go against your programming! you don’t have to do that! i don’t understand why you make yourself mis-“

the sketchbook was shoved into her face before she can finish. “I PHYSICALLY CAN'T.” the underline was so aggressive parts of the page were ripped. he takes it back to scribble some additions under the tear. “I WAS NOT PROGRAMMED TO BE LOYAL. I WAS PROGRAMMED TO BE SUPERIOR. HE FIXED THAT OVERSIGHT ANYWAY. IF IT WAS AGAINST MY PROGRAMMING IT WOULD BE IMPOSSIBLE.”

“so… you can’t control it? you'll just hurt people until you die?” Amy’s fists were curled into balls so tight she couldn’t feel her fingers. “but that’s unfair! that’s stupid! you don’t- you don’t deserve to be stuck like that! i know that you're a person, even if everyone else doesn’t. you shouldn’t be forced to do bad things.”

the laughter like noise again. “I DON'T HAVE TO. IN THE SAME WAY YOU DON'T HAVE TO BE AROUND OTHER ORGANICS. BUT I THINK YOU CAN IMAGINE HOW THAT'D GO.”

“but you’ve been fine here! i mean, as fine as you can be, considering the, uh. circumstances.”

“I PROVE MY SUPERIORITY HERE ON A DAILY BASIS. I THINK THAT ONE SHOULD BE OBVIOUS.”

“okay, rude! but… hmm…” if it didn’t have to be hurting people, then there were ways to get around that. there were plenty of socially acceptable opportunities to “prove your superiority”, right? maybe there was a way to help. she couldn’t just fix him, even if he was a robot, but they could adapt. slowly. “that's good! it means you don't have to hurt people! you can have a life here, with friends, and hobbies, and a therapist, and you'll never have to do anything you don’t want!”

“WHAT I WANT IS IRRELEVANT. I'M NOT A PERSON, NO MATTER HOW MUCH YOU DENY THAT. I'M A TOOL. IF I'M NOT SERVING A PURPOSE, I MIGHT AS WELL JUST BE SCRAPPED FOR PARTS.”

“but-“ amy stopped herself mid sentence. don’t push too hard. she didn’t know how to deal with child soldier robots she was keeping in her apartment but she did know how to deal with people who were scared and sad and confused and needed help understanding themselves. and sometimes, that meant you couldn’t push too hard at once. metal was hurting and he'd been treated as less than a person by everyone except amy his whole life. that was a lot to unpack, and if she tried to force it, she'd hardly be any better than anyone else. “okay. okay. you want to be useful?”

his ears pricked. it was too smooth a motion to be real, but amy found the attempt at expression adorable. he nodded slowly, like he was afraid of a trap, and the sinking feeling that prior thought briefly erased hit again all at once.

“then you can… uh…” there wasn’t much they could do, metal barely having one functional limb and all. “we can watch steven universe again together! that’s important!”

“IS PEARL IN IT AGAIN? I LIKE HER. SHE'S THE ONLY ONE WHO MAKES SENSE SO FAR.”

“you know she's in the whole show, right? she’s a main character.”

“I HAVEN'T WATCHED TV BEFORE. I'VE READ THE BIBLE BUT I DON'T THINK THAT'S PARTICULARLY APPLICABLE HERE.”

“it can be if you want it to, i guess.”

“THAT DOESN'T SOUND VERY USEFUL OR IMPORTANT.”

“it is! you’re understanding people life! having questions and stuff is helping me there”.

“OH.” he pauses for a long time, before writing, smaller- “WHY ARE THE GEMS ALLOWED TO BE GIRLS?”

amy blinked. “allowed?”

“I'M NOT. I WANT TO KNOW HOW.”

oh. mentally, she filed a note to kick eggman's ass for being a shitty “father” to his daughter. “who told you that?”

“NO ONE. I JUST KNOW I'M NOT BECAUSE HE ISN'T. DO I HAVE TO MAKE HIM A GIRL?”

okay, well at least he wasn’t transphobic. that was one thing less she had to beat eggman up about. “no! no, you can just choose to be a girl. you can be one now, if you want.”

“WHAT I WANT IS IRRELEVANT.”

“okay, then… what do you think would be, uh, most useful?”

“GIRLS SEEM MORE POWERFUL THAN BOYS. THEY ARE THE SUPERIOR OPTION.”

that was. one reason to be her true self while she was still in the “denying her autonomy” stage. it was a step. she was closer to finding a way to make things right than this morning. that was something.

things were not going the way amy wanted, but they were going close enough she could be okay with it.

[legalandnotease]

The biggest problem with Bucky defenders like you is that you refuse to acknowledge anyone else’s suffering. Never denied Bucky grieving nor being a victim of horrific proportions, but he was far from the only one grieving.

"I don't deny Bucky was grieving" but then 10 seconds later you be like "he doesn't have the right to grieve and has zero right to any of his feelings".

There's a word for what you're doin there. Its called *gaslighting*. Its what my abuser used to do to me- yes, you're talking to a real life abuse survivor in the flesh.

That's the problem with a lot of Sam fans. They cannot identify with any other character or their experiences.

I mean this here a prime example of what I am saying:

You really need to get off of Bucky’s fictional dick and stop believing that he’s the grand winner in the trauma olympics

You believe Sam is the grand winner do you not? People like you are convinced Sam and Isaiah have some kind of monopoly on suffering, and because of this they are incapable of identifying with the trauma of others and understanding how other people's suffering impacts them. (Legit they are getting as bad as Tony fans..)

Thus anybody who has feelings or emotions that do not align with what Sam wants is condemned. This is absolutely classic gaslighting, and its also incredibly narcissistic: recognize Sam's struggles by all means but nobody is required to supress or alter their emotions to cater to him.

Nobody is required to turn off their trauma to make him feel better: not that they can.

How Bucky managed to not grapple or try to understand Sam’s mental strife ... means he’s an obtuse little fuck when it comes to emotionally attaching himself to an inanimate object in lieu of feeling abandoned.

Yeah.... um its called the grieving process. Grief impacts different people in different ways.

You're basically saying here that because Bucky doesn't grieve the same way as Sam it means his grief is not legitimate. Gaslighting again.

Sam and Bucky have different experiences, ergo their experience of grieving is different. Although Bucky feels to a degree for others involved in the fight against Thanos he didn't really know any of them aside from the Wakanadans. So its harder for him to grieve for somebody like Natasha because he didn't know her. People generally don't grieve for strangers - that's not selfish its just how we are.

The only person he really knew was Steve Rogers: Steve is the man who literally saved Bucky's life when everyone (including Sam) was telling Steve to kill him.

That's why the shield means so much to Bucky. Its the object that was used to save his life by his brother. It doesn't mean the same thing to him as it does to Sam because they both associate it with different things.

Both their experiences are valid: but of course you want to say that Bucky's are not.

But him feeling betrayed and hurt gives him no leeway to be a bastard to Sam as he was

Ah yes, here we come to it. Bucky has no right to his feelings and he has no right to his trauma responses. Gotcha. He should turn off his PTSD to cater to Sam, did I say that already? Only problem is it doesn't work that way.

You see here's the thing: the vast majority of Sam fans who write things like this do not have PTSD or trauma: but the vast majority of Bucky fans do.

This is why Sam fans don't get it: they are looking at things from an outsider perspective. They see a traumatized person acting a certain way and they think they're choosing to do that because they're just being a dick.

What they don't understand is that trauma messes you up. It makes just living from one day to the next a sruggle. Traumatized people do not have room for others because they are struggling to just survive themselves. Not because they are selfish but because they have been harmed in horrific ways and it keeps impacting them long after the event.

Also, certain conditions predispose people to act and respond in certain ways, so when they people say say incredibly misinformed things like this:

Being a victim doesn’t give him a forever pass to be an asshole to those that didn’t cause his pain.

...All they they reveal is that they cannot comprehend trauma. That they have absolutely zero understanding of hiw trauma impacts human beings. That they are incredibly ignorant and certainly in no position to lecture anybody else on trauma healing or say they understand.

See here's the thing about PTSD, the condition that Bucky has. You don't have to be around the person who hurt you to react in a certain way.

In fact, anything that reminds you of your trauma and pain can cause a certain response. These things are called triggers. And when I say it cane be anything I mean *anything*. Objects, sounds, even certain words can remind a person with PTSD of the experience which caused their condition, and this by turn can cause unpleasant responses.

Lashing out, freezing, panic attacks, etc. Bucky doesn't like notebooks because the Soviets used a notebook with the Russian words to activate his programming: that's why Raynor's notebook annoys him so much. Its probably one of his triggers.

This means that Bucky is not being mean to Sam because he's malicious: he's a traumatized person who has been triggered by something or somebody.

Most likely, the talk of the shield reminded him of how Steve had to save him when he didn't feel like he was worth saving- and then he had somebody telling him HYDRA were "his people" so he was feeling like shit all over again.

Of course the vast majority of Sam fans don't see that: all they see is somebody being mean to their fave, and that is an unforgivable sin.

And Anthony Mackie stayed talking shit in the interviews whenever asked what was involved in the films, but you’re 100% ready to believe the character that Sam was only reached out to ‘taunt’ Bucky? Are you fucking serious?

Actually, yes.

Sam taunting Bucky with those text messages is entirely consistent with the behavior he displays throughtout the show- making jokes about his disability, mocking his trauma and the symptoms of his brain damage etc.

Like you pointed out, he was a counselor and knew the importance of contact but he’s only reaching out to fuck with him, not to check in, not to try to connect over similar experiences of losing time and friends? Shows how much you know the character.

Do you remember what I said about certain Sam fans being incapable of identifying with anybody else?

The same goes for Sam himself. Believe it or not, Sam is an able-bodied person who has never experienced things liks captivity, mind control, torture and sexual assault. He hasn't been forced to kill people against his will.

As such, Sam cannot identify with disabled people or abuse survivors. That's why he does things like mocking Bucky's appearance or making fun of his bionic arc and his propensity for staring. Which is due to brain damage btw.

You call that banter- but its very much more like the way able-bodied people act towards the disabled in real life. The kind of casual cruelty or insensitivity able-bodied people display when they ask intrusive or hurtful questions about disability or make off-color remarks about certain condtions.

Sam isn't necessarily trying to be insulting or offensive (although sometimes it appears he is) he probably thinks calling Bucky a "freak" or a "cyborg" and asking him if he killed anybody lately is just a harmless joke, but he is nevertheless being incredibly insensitive.

And like you said "intentions don't mean shit in regard to hurt feelings". Yeah the same applies to Sam. It doesn't matter if his remarks weren't meant to offend Bucky- they clearly did and he had a right to be offended.

You don’t get to dictate how what Bucky said affected Sam and you don’t get to pretend that some of the shit he said didn’t reek of self centeredness.

Guess what? You don't get to dictate how what Sam says effected Bucky either. Just because you think Sam was seeking to bond over mutual experiences it does not make it so.

Its entirely possible that Sam said things in those texts Bucky ignored that were incredibly offensive, insensitive or triggering and that's why he ignored them.

Its like if you sent me a text saying " how is (naming my abuser) today and did you freak out?"

You might think that's a harmless joke, but guess what? You don't know how that is going to impact me.

Being a counsellor doesn't mean Sam cannot also be an insensitive dick. As I said before- Sam is not an abuse survivor so he cannot identify with Bucky's experiences as an abuse survivor.

Which means he also doesn't understand how his negative attitudes and behaviours are likely to impact people who are. That also makes him more likely to engage in things like victim-blaming, and casual ableism.

That’s the way to heal, but Sam giving the advice was such a big problem fer y’all stans and I’ll never understand why.

Um, no.

You don't get to tell traumatized people how they heal. When you don't know anything about PTSD or trauma its very likely you also don't know anything about the long, slow process of healing, so I won't bother going into the complexities of it.

What I will do though is tell you why Sam's "advice is such a big problem".

Sam was doing what is known as victim-blaming. Victim blaming is a phenomena where victims are told that what happened to them is their fault, and that they caused or wanted it in some way.

Sam telling Bucky he had to "make amends" whilst he lectured him on the importance of "being of service, being present in his life and surrounding community" was akin to telling a person who was r*ped that they have to go and apologize to their attacker, and then they have to go find other people who were attacked by the same person and apologize to them as well.

Instead of like, bringing the rapist to justice and telling them to make amends.

Everything about what Sam says is implicity and explicitly telling Bucky that he was 100% responsible for what HYDRA did to him. He was to blame, it was his fault and he has to make right. Victim-blaming.

The fact that this came at the end of a series in which *every single character* as well as the narrative itself said that Bucky was serving HYDRA willingly and wanted to do all the things he did as the Winter Soldier makes it even worse.

Its like if they retconned Nastasha's story and decided to say she joined the Red Room voluntarily and then make her Dreykov's lover or something.

Oh and in addition to that several major characters outright say that Bucky is an evil monster and a pyschopathic killer and can never be anything other than that. Sam never once challenges or questions this version of events. He goes along with it, in fact.

So yeah, that's why Sam's advice is such a big deal- because it and the series itself are constantly shoving this idea down our throats that Bucky was never a victim. That he chose to do everything he did as Winter Soldier, and he is to blame for all that happened to him: which is why according to Sam and everybody else he has to "make amends" help others.

He's not a victim, therefore he doesn't deserve care or compassion. Therefore he doesn't need self-care. He just needs to stop kidding himself and admit it was all his fault. Oh and he then needs to do something which could explicity put his life in danger by confronting the families of victims. Cos' last time he did that it ended so well (Tony Stark almost killed him...)

All the while, remaining HYDRA operatives are walking free, allowed to do as they please.

As for the rest of your post: Bucky had zero intention of allowing Zemo to remain free forever, he fully intended to hand him over to Wakanda when he didn't need him anymore. He literally explained that. He was using the guy as a means to an end and the Wakandans were welcome to him when he was finished.

But if you want to talk about betrayal- how do you think Lemar Hoskins family would have felt seeing Sam treat the little terrorist bitch who murdered their son as some kind of fallen hero on live TV? The same little terrorist bitch who had burned innocent people to death and said she would do it again: the same little terrorist bitch who got her serum off a *Nazi*.

Whilst we're at it this is the most antisemetic piece of trash I have ever had the misfortune to read.

And lastly, while this is a fictional show, real world imitates art and vice versa. Sam not feeling he could follow in Steve’s footsteps, the literal blue eyed, blond poster boy of America, was saturated with racist ideologies.

That show had the fucking audacity to say that Steve became Captain America because he adhered to some kind of Aryan stereotype.

I was going to give them the benefit of the doubt and assume they did not watch The First Avenger but no- actually I am not going to do that because the showrunners probably did watch it and chose to ignore it anyway.

They still had the FUCKING audacity to say that the Jewish Doctor who chose Steve for the serum chose him because he looked Aryan? Yes, Dr Esrkine was Jewish.

At a time when Jews in Europe were literally being murdered by the Nazis because they were not considered to fit the Aryan model of racial perfection closely enough

As opposed to the actual truth: Dr Erskine chose a disabled puny son of Irish immigrants for the serum, who was the total opposite of the perfect race stereotype.

If you want to pretend that racist connotations didn’t exist in either the show or the movie, go play dumbass somewhere else.

Racist connotations exist in ths show: its fucking racist against Jews just for a start. Not only did they try to retcon the heavily Jewish coded Bucky to be a fucking Nazi they then tried to say Dr Erskine chose Steve for being a good little Aryan.

Its also utterly and disgustingly bigoted against every other minority group in existence.

...and then to top it all in the movie this continues with Sam saying Bucky chose to get the serum in the same way Steve did. As opposed again to the real truth: he had it put into him against his will when he was being experimented on by Nazis in a Prisoner of War camp. (Just like actual Jews and actual Eastern Europeans were experimented on by actual Nazis in actual real-life prison camps)

I am going to put this in big bold letters.

Sam being subject to racism does not give him a free pass on victim-blaming or being a bigot to disabled people, people with PTSD, Jews, women or anybody else.

Nor does Malcolm Spellman or Kori Skogland or whoever wrote that shit get a free pass on the trash they produced on that basis.

After watching the only scene in BNW that mattered to me, I wanna emphasize how important it is that bucky says one of the most emotionally mature things that a character has said in the MCU in a long while.

He asks sam “Why?”

He doesn’t correct Sam. Tell him he’s wrong. He doesn’t make the moment about himself.

It shows that Bucky fucking grew after TFATWS. a show where he is so self-obsessed (because of his trauma which isn’t inherently his fault) that he rarely considers Sam’s emotions.

Bucky Barnes has one of the best arcs in the MCU, and I think him even saying “I love you” is another sign that he is frankly pretty damn emotionally intelligent and either the writers or Sebastian Stan decided that it was important to include.

[unriding]

hi evie !! how have you been ? :33 i hope you dont mind me borrowing you and moze for something ehehe <3

[gooperts-gunk]

im so crazy over the tragedy of everything q!bbh does being under a demon pretense even though he's a fallen angel.

do u think he just accepts the demon label because it's easier. do u think he believes it too, and catches himself in his thoughts with "oh, right. im not exactly that". and maybe he believes that he did this to himself? do u think what he did was to protect himself or someone? no matter the fall, he still has so much kindness to give and his brain just isn't wired the way a natural-born demon would be, he can't hold back instincts when time demands it, maybe that's why he fell in the first place.

and when he's finally bad, not good, it's treated like the end of the world, without empathy on why he would act out. do you think this keeps happening? the same scenario, multiple times, every timeline? he has to be used to it. so he has to take it in stride. he's good until he lashes out under extreme pressure, and suddenly he's called demon. and once again he's what heaven made him out to be. what he made himself to be, his brain would ruthlessly provide...

i don't think he wants to be that, though he hides secrets behind secrets of which neither identity is a home... but i don't think he wants to have to change, either. and i don't think that's wrong of him.

...you collapse atlantis ONE TIME and all of a sudden YOU'RE the bad guy and SURE it was FUN but REALLY now,--

[pa-pa-plasma]

you just made the scientific discovery of the century & you want to tell everyone & your kids are first on that list but you can't find them. you manage to get a hold of your daughter & she says everything is fine but her voice gets tight when you try to mention your work & she sucks in a breath & says she won't keep you from it any longer than she already has & doesn't say bye as she hangs up the phone. you have a sinking feeling in your gut & you really want to get back to what you were doing but. something's wrong. where are your kids. why was your daughter not surprised when you told her. why was she so quick to hang up on you. your husband has the same type of mind & that's probably why neither of you can ignore this odd turn of events & so you decide to track them down. the research can wait. after all, the spook got away somehow afterwards. it's not like you have anything to go through but data & recordings.

[j0kers-light]

Two Steps Forward

Oh this chapter. This one right here had me evil laughing at my computer. What a time.

I dunno why I love writing the interrogation scenes out. Maybe because I like reminding the reader Joker is retelling the story of us and that everything is the past tense? This is him confessing, coming clean about his Light and that does something to me.

You spoiled him rotten on life and he couldn't, in fact he didn't want to go back to the way things were before he met you.Unfortunately that wasn't meant to be. He was Gotham City's most wanted and you were a mere (semi-famous) citizen.

OOOOH! I can’t wait to reveal why Joker turned himself in!!!

"I told you, Bats. I would never hurt her. I... heh, well I made a promise noT to."

Could this be a clue? 👀😏

“Depending on the time... she could be in one place or another, so I can't answer unless ya tell meee."

“Are you implying she's in multiple places? I won't fall for that again." A brief memory of having to choose between two people came and went.

RACHEL!!! I’m sorry I had to use the movie reference!

Joker just wanted you safe. You meant more to him than you'd ever know. He never felt this way for someone before so pure possessive instincts forced him to put your safety above his own in any situation.

Joker, the man you are. I won’t let anyone talk trash about you!

The way you acknowledged his character flaws, (you knew in the end Joker wouldn't change) but you treated him like a normal human being, and it meant everything to him. Joker felt like he changed as a person while remaining true to himself and he would cherish that feeling forever. It was hard to describe the way you loved Joker and he felt like a fool for throwing that bond away, but he had to. It was all to keep you safe.

👀 hehe…

“Not at first. I was many things to her but never the bad guy. I tried so hard to make her hate me but she's.. something else. She would cry and get mad— but she always forgave me afterwards. Nothing I did scared her away. Say Bats! Would you believe me if I told you My Light and I started out as..."

THAT FLIPPING TRANSITION WAS SMOOTH CHAOS!

Joker merely smiled wide. God, you so desperately wanted to brush his teeth. But that was another fight to get into later. He would probably threaten you again but you didn't care. You hoped they weren't permanently stained.

Confirmed: they are not.

Your bathroom was straight out of a magazine. Joker whistled lowly. "How much are your uh, royalty checks? I should change professions."

I’m so glad I created this apartment in the sims 👏🏾👏🏾

“Don't you wanna stay? I might.. slip and hit my head on your opulence." He grumbled, looking around the fancy room. You never knew when Joker was living up to his name or just being honest. His sardonic humor was difficult to pinpoint. "I hope the towel rack takes you out on the way down. I'll be outside."

Writing their banter is so fluid. They just click. ALTHOUGH I would love and stay J.. 👀 if you want me to hold it for you just lemme know 😭

“So.. this is where your ideas are stored. My, my Y/n.. you have quite the uh, imaginative brain." Oh god what did he read? You forgot to hide your notebook earlier! You felt like a teenager catching your mother reading your first WIP for the first time.

We’ve all been there.

Utter embarrassment flushed the tip of your ears scarlet red. The situation became worse when you jumped up and down trying to snatch your journal away from Joker. If you weren't so hellbent on retrieving your notebook, you would've noticed the height difference between you and him.

Size kink activated. No I’m not sorry.

Were you just imagining it? Perhaps, but when you walked towards Joker with arms open wide, he didn't take your pre-offered shoulder to lean on. Instead he didn't move at all, causing you to awkwardly hug him. Only then did he wrap his arms around you and bend down to whisper in your ear. "I happen to like the err story idea on page nineteen. Mind sharing your thought process on how that came to be, hmm?" He pulled you closer, urging you to rest your head on his chest.

Joker, Gotham City's most wanted criminal, was holding you in your bathroom and subtly sniffing your hair. It smelled divine to him and he subconsciously squeezed you tighter because of it. You smelled like rosemary, lavender, peppermint, and some kind of fruit he couldn't quite name. The combination was intoxicating and before he knew it, his hand was snaking up your back and into your hair.

I think you dropped this J

“Stupid jerk reading my stuff, being so freakishly tall, and ugh!" You yanked the last article of clothing out the dryer and into a basket before slamming the door.

Fun fact: this is actual dialogue I said as I was writing this rough draft. The more you know how Chaos brain works, the better. 🤣🤣🤣😣

The quicker he was healed, the faster he could be out of your life, so why did he find himself getting used to staying here? More importantly, why did he want to see you happy again?

Yeah? Why are you getting attacked Joker?

“Do I looK like someone who watches tv?" Joker grimaced. Your left eye twitched but you didn't argue with him.

Do I look like a guy with a cable plan? 🤣🤣🤣🤣 yes.

You yawned. "Real Housewives of Gotham City." Joker resisted the urge to smother you with a pillow. He did however smack your hand away from his plate. He tried to ignore your puppy dog eyes but caved in. The plate had two servings of food, he just wanted to mess with you.

HOW CAN YOU NOT LOVE THEM?! Look at my babies! Two steps forward!

The plate of food was long gone and he didn't realize he had sat up halfway into the season in suspense. Joker underestimated just how fascinating a group of housewives could be until today.

Every guy talks bad about reality tv but slick be invested in it!!

You heard him sigh on his end. You still failed to use his first name. "I must confess Y/n, I grew tired of waiting for you to call and asked Barbara for your number. I hope that wasn't too intrusive of me."

Oh Bruce. The lowkey creep you are. Stop acting like Batman. Still love you tho 👀

You whirled around in shock only to find Joker, arms crossed on the couch, looking every bit the murderer he was. His narrowed eyes sent a clear message. He was no joke to be taken lightly.

Hands down, I adore a jealous Joker. He does it so well ugh.

“Oh my dear Y/n... it's you who doesn't know a thing about Gotham's wannabe savior. What has he done for Gotham other than sign a check?"

Ooooooh get em Joker! Bruce is just a pocketbook!!!

“Do you like living, Y/n?" Joker asked. You scoffed. "What kind of dumb question is that?"

Now, I had an anon ask me what I was thinking about with this. We had a dm discussion about it and Joker is trying to pick apart Y/n here. He wants to find her flaws so he can break her. He wasn’t asking if she’s suicidal.

Just what was it about you that made him act so unlike himself? You had a way of confusing Joker.

Our man is going through it you hear me?

But first these ridiculous emotions you stirred up within him had to be eradicated. He would not be distracted by romance and lose sight of his goal. That was his plan– yet you made him toss logic out the window.

“Quit acting like somebody's daddy. The city is on a curfew so no one will be out anyways. The most dangerous criminal is currently sleeping on my couch, scolding me like a strict parent."

Girl you wish J was yo daddy 🤭🤭🤭 IN TIME HE WILL BE! 😏

“Where else am I supposed to sleep bunny? With you?" You saw his grin backlit by the bright tv light, making you roll your eyes. You really hoped that nickname didn't stick.

It does.

Your back hit the bed followed by the heavy weight of Joker landing on top of you. For someone so tall and lanky, his full body weight knocked the air out your lungs.

I created this scene simply because I’m petty. Pinned to the bed under Joker? Yes please.

‘Be a good girl..' It was official, you were a goner.

He forgot what he had asked you. He forgot his own name really. The only thought on his mind was what your lips would feel like. He wanted to find out. He would find out.

Haha remember when I teased yall for the longest? I said slow burn.

His Lighthouse Re-Read Thread

Hey hi my loves!!! I've read my own story 14 million times but I never did an official reread thread so thank @jaysmentalspace for what's about to happen! 🖤✨

This will be an interactive thread. Yes, you can join in with your own comments, reblogs, whatever! I will start from chapter one and I guess, review/commentate my own story! I hope you enjoy the ride. There's gonna be fun facts, behind the scenes commentary, who knows. 🤷🏾‍♀️

His Lighthouse masterlist let's get started.

[skrunksthatwunk]

you go to a lesbian blog and find it says women only!! no men allowed!!! and go oh! excuse me, um, what about other lesbians? plenty of lesbians are genderqueer... and they go well, okay, go fuck yourself tim chop off your sweaty dick and stop calling yourself a lesbian. you do not have a dick, actually. you think about that fact often, even though it does you no good. you do not tell this person that.

you go to another lesbian blog and it says women only and you try again, and this time they change it to wlw + nblw only (non-men who love non-men :D). and you'll say hey i appreciate that but gender's not really that cut and dry for a lot of people. someone could be both a man and nonbinary, for instance. i just worry that you're looking at nonbinary as a generic third gender, or an extension of womanhood. i mean yeah you include nblw in your tags but all your posts are about pussy-havers exclusively. what's with that? and they say go fuck yourself you pervy man pretending to be a lesbian. you tried to sneak in but i won't let you.

so you go to a lesbian blog with a dozen or so posts about queer people needing to be more weird about it and you sigh in relief. but you still see the men dni. that's odd. hoping for the best, you say hey! i know you mean well but please maybe don't put men dni at the end of the lovely posts on your lesbian blog bc some lesbians are men. and they'll be like ok!! well you're allowed ;) and you say no that's not. no. some men are lesbians not just me. you think about your own dicklessness and wonder if that's why you were given entry. and you add that even if male lesbians are allowed, there's no indication of that. how would anyone know without asking? and they're like ohh gotcha gotcha well men dni + this is for sapphics only!! and you'll be like ok well that treats the concepts of men and sapphics as mutually exclusive identities and i just told you that's not true and you agreed with me so.. i don't think that solves our problem. and they're like. ok. fine. men dni but genderfluid and multigender people are allowed! and you're like no see that's. that's still the same thing.. you're saying the same thing just with different words. if you don't want men to interact but you're fine with multigender/genderfluid/etc ppl interacting then you either don't see them as Real Men (because they don't reach a standard of Full Manhood) or Complete Men (because they're only Part-Time Men), both of which suggest that they are, in some way, not men or less-than men, which is invalidating and defeats the point of the exception in the first place (accommodation) OR that you don't really mean the dni which is confusing and inconsistent and makes guydykes feel weird and uncomfortable and excluded from the lesbian space you're trying to cultivate. and they're like um. ok. so. cishet men dni? and you're like well i think that makes more sense, but what if someone identifies as both a cishet man and a sapphic? again, if we're trying to accommodate the genderfucky populace then that has to be a possibility that is considered. and they say god you people are never happy. what do you want me to do? what am i supposed to say to keep the right men out? and you pause. you empathize with the need for a space free from dudes trying to fuck you straight and feminine. dudes who watch lesbian porn and joke about what they'd do if they were allowed into girls locker rooms. who look at you like a piece of meat, and like someone who looks at women like pieces of meat in the same way he does. you get it. you know. you want a space where you can be sapphic, too. that's why you came to these blogs in the first place. you brace yourself and you say well i don't know that there are "right men" to keep out. i don't know that there's any single label that would accomplish whatever it is you're trying to accomplish. you could go for "sapphics only" or "queers only" and i think that might be the closest thing to what you want, but it's never going to be perfect. creating any exclusive space is going to shut out people you didn't account for, and the broader the label, the more people will be shut out that you didn't want to shut out. and what about people who don't know if they're allowed? what of questioning transbians, where are they supposed to go? and, frankly, i think i might rather my dykey posts get read and appreciated by a gay guy who sees me as a man than a woman who only sees me as a sacred womb, pure from male perversions or violence or whatever. i think community might just be more complex than a dni can handle. and they look at you and say i don't want to not have a dni. i think you're too permissive. you can't just "what about" or microlabel your way into everything. go fuck yourself, i bet you're not even a lesbian anyway. go find a real problem to get mad about.

you go to a lesbian blog. you ignore the men dni because you know you probably don't even count to them. or maybe you do count and, out of respect for your manhood, they'd shun you accordingly. you try to feel okay about that. you scroll past dozens of posts about mediocre men and gagging at straight friends' boyfriends and how gross and undeserving men are of the beautiful women they couple up with and how all women should be gay so they can get treated right and and and and and. you finally find a post about curling into someone you love and feeling at peace and try to lose yourself in it. you know that feeling is what unites you, what makes you belong. you try to focus on it. you think about carding your hands through a butch's hair or lacing fingers with a femme and feeling warm and loved and more yourself than you ever have before. like this is who you're meant to be. you read about lesboys and butch boytoys and genderfucky dykes and big hairy deep-voiced wonderful women (like you want to be someday, like you wish you could make yourself) and you try to ignore the men dni underneath each and every post. and you daydream about meeting someone kind and earnest at a lesbian bar even though you don't think any such bars exist within three states of you and you can't drink and don't want to drink because you need to be in control of yourself at all times so you don't fuck up like you're always about to and here in the nonexistent lesbian bar you feel wanted and safe and in good company. you picture your ideal, happiest self. it is a mistake. ideal-you has a goatee. not the mascara one you smear on and call drag even though you know it's not drag, not really, the beard you call drag because you think everyone would look at you sadly if you told them it was just to pretend you had something out of your reach. a beard that's soft and that you grew and that cannot be smudged away if you get too comfortable with it. the dream shatters. your people pull away from you, their scoffs mixing with the mind-numbing gay girl bedroom pop you learned to settle for just to have something that almost resembled you, they all pull away and turn their backs and do not look at you. you're too close to being a man now, even though you're the same amount of man as before. and they know you're not supposed to interact with men, not as you would with dykes, at least. and it sours. it's all your imagination, all in your head, but it sours.

you sigh. you think about how small you are. how short, how narrow, how feeble. how your voice pitches up when you talk to strangers because it's easier to speak quietly when it carries more, and because you're nervous. because it's a chore to talk, like everything is. you think about testosterone. you think about how your family would look at you, the questions they would ask, your answers they would only pretend to accept. the uncomfortable glances and whispered questions they'd try to hide from you. you think about how small you are, and how small you will always be. how you don't know of a way to fix it, but even if there was one, no one would want you anymore. you'd be the only one thinking it made you a cooler dyke. you think about how you don't even want a T-voice all the time, how you'll never be able to switch it at will, because you don't know how and can't bring yourself to figure it out. you think about how your throat closes around every hint of your own attraction. how wanting is perverse, how wanting is invasive, how wanting is embarrassing and too vulnerable so it must stay anonymous, as an online witness, and how you can barely manage to form or maintain friendships because your brain makes you pull away, always spinning out and struggling to recover from the simplest of interactions. how they'll all leave you and you won't chase after them at all and how that will hurt them. how stuck you get. how it looks like nothing's holding you back, how that frustrates everyone who thought you were going to be more than you were. the people you love who understand except when it comes to being ghosted, being shut out. how you don't want to hurt them. how you can't tell them that because you're stuck. how you turn to stone when touched, how you never reach out, how you lose your speech and can't look at people, how your autism is fun and sexy until it becomes real and you never see them anymore, how much you longed for someone who knew everything without you having to explain, and who loved you anyway. how unreasonable you know that is to expect of anyone. you think about that not-even-real lesbian bar. you think about how you still can't drive. how you can't leave your home on your own, without dragging somebody into helping you. how you can't leave your body. how you can't leave your manhood behind.

you think about finding another lesbian blog and ignoring everything. about skimming it for the parts you can juice some meaning from. the parts men ignore and don't understand, and how typical of you it is to do so. or the parts where you're not welcome and you should accept that, because it's for lesbians only. how you are a lesbian anyway. how you're meant to choose lesbian or man, how each is a betrayal of some kind to yourself or your people, your family, your lovely strangers, your rare friendly acquaintances. about the parts that tell you you're not wanted, that you're ugly and lazy and gross and insert yourself everywhere without even asking. about the parts that tell you you are hated, and how lesbians are above it all by rejecting men. how lesbians are each blessed miracles. about the parts that say you should be ashamed of being whatever twisted confused freak you are, of everything, of looking and wanting or not looking or not wanting, of picking and choosing instead of taking it all in with a smile. after all, shouldn't you take it? or is your ego too fragile, as men's so often are? aren't you tired? good. we're not here for your consumption. and we sure as hell don't want your company or "community" or whatever. didn't you read the sign? no boys allowed. and if you want to come in you have to make up your mind. as if you haven't told them the only answer you have. you're both. you're both.

you know you broke the rule by interacting.

but it gets lonely sometimes. you wonder if they know.