#'the electrician will be there between 9 and 2' turns out that was a fucking lie

[birgittesilverbae]

a hot meal would fix me

[brokenlibrarygirl]

so I need a bit of a vent…

My parents have been in town since the 14th. I love them dearly but they treat me like I’m 17, not almost 49.

My townhouse/condo has two switches in my kitchen that can be temperamental. One is for the overhead light (which will flicker or not turn on completely every 50th-100th time) the other is for the garbage disposal (which won’t turn on 5% of the time on the first try).

I live with it because it doesn’t bother me, it’s not completely broken, and I don’t want strangers in my home. Monday comes and the kitchen light doesn’t turn on immediately. Of course this is an emergency for the two of them. I wake up and they tell me, I flip the switch and it turns on. But, of course, “We HaVe To Get It FiXEd.”

I tell my mother, that she needs to call and take care of everything. The company “allegedly” will be here the same day. 7 hours later, they have to reschedule to today. I was fine with that. I slept 11 hours that night because of the anxiety the day caused. After a quiet day yesterday; I was ready for today.

So parents go to overnight with friends and make me get up before 6 am. (4:50am if you need to know) I get the reconfirm call for the appt. at 9 am. I’m to get a call 30-45 minutes prior to arrival. OK. I’m chill, and enjoying the alone time.

When 1 pm rolls around, I get a bit annoyed. I’ve been up for 7 hours, It’s been 4 hours and no call. From Mondays’s experience I knew not to call. At 2pm my mom calls to check in. I tell her I’m cancelling if they reschedule again. I used a lot of F words to emphasize my anger.

For context I worked retail/customer service for 10 years between my teens and twenties. I know that a lot of things are out of control for service workers. I am empathetic and patient. You really have to fuck up or waste a shit-ton of my time until I lose patience. I work with middle schoolers…..

2:30 rolls up with a call from the company offering a gift certificate if I reschedule for next week. I said, as calmly as I could, “I’m sorry, but I’ve already wasted two days on this, I’m going to have to cancel.”

If you work as a an electrician for a company that claims same day service, QUIT!! I would rather know what day and time you’ll be at my home, even if it is three days from now, than waste 72 hours waiting for “same day service.”

[charity-angel]

At the risk of tempting the universe/PTB to throw anything more at me, a brief summary of my weekend (with added background info that I bought my first house 2 months ago):

Saturday morning, arse o’clock: text from my mother saying she is sending my dad over and are there any jobs that need doing?

Yes, quite a few. Chief of which is I want to trace whatever fault means that half1 the spotlights in my kitchen aren’t working.2

Slightly later Saturday, more reasonable time: Dad arrives. Decides that since weather is nice, he's going to repair my back gate. Fair enough - it wasn't on my list, but it will mean I can actually open it whenever I need to rather than wrestling with it.

While helping him: Spot something that annoys me, and I have purchased the means to fix but not got around to actually doing it. The security light comes on no matter what time of day it is. It is currently broad daylight. Decide to amend this. Venture into basement, turn electricity off. Arm self with screwdrivers. Prepare to install switch rather than popping fuse out of wall all the time3.

Bit of swearing later: Fuse panel is off wall, but there is something going on outside. Venture out to find a guy out cold in the street running behind the terrace, with two teenage girls speaking to the 999 operator. As I kneel beside him to try and assess, he starts to come round - enough to say he doesn't want an ambulance. I try to get girls to not relay this to the operator, but they do and it's cancelled. He is CLEARLY still out of it. They hang up, go on their way, and he promptly passes out again.

Remind self of how to put someone into the recovery position. Lament that last time I did this it was a conscious, skinny PGCE student in her early twenties, and this is a grown-ass man who is not surreptitiously helping with the rolling over. I also can't get his hand under his head, so I hold his head up myself instead, while my dad finally decides I've been a while and rings 999 back4.

Takes them a while to get there. I think the call timer is over 20 mins. My back is in spasms, my left leg is going numb and pins & needles-y. The guy has vomited three times (thank fuck I rolled him). Paramedics manage to bring him round a bit - enough to get him to confess he's on methodone.

Ow, fucking ow: Have to go back to doing the electrical work, since the power is off and my dad now needs to charge the drill. Set about attaching the cables to the right bits. Discover that the cabling is too short to reach one of the terminals on the new switch. Fuck. Re-install fuse plate. Turn power back on. Thank whoever is listening that I don't seem to have screwed anything up.

Saturday, 2:45: Lunch. I have frozen bread, and a shit-load of eggs. Scrambled eggs on toast it is.

Maybe 3:15?: Dad sets about re-seating curtain pole in the spare room, with decent rawlplugs so that it will take the weight of the curtain my mum is making for it.

Not long later: That's done with minimal fuss5. Dad muses that could do with putting the rail back on the stairs6.

Couple of minutes later: Persuade him that could actually do with lifting the floor since I'd quite like to be able to see in the kitchen after nightfall, whereas the handrail is a minor inconvenience. We begin.

At this point, it is worth noting that I had tried this myself on Thursday evening only to discover the floor appears to be chipboard rather than floorboards. Also it is worth noting that the carpet was laid and then the skirting boards put down over it.

Half an hour later?: Free enough of the carpet to realise that the bed needs to be moved. And by moved, I mean effectively dismantled.

Another hour?: Bed semi-dismantled and on its side7, room totally rearranged. More skirting boards unscrewed, silicon sealant peeled from the walls, skirtings removed8, carpet screws removed, carpet rolled up as much as possible. We manage to prise one of the bits of chipboard up, only to realise that: a) the original floorboards are still mostly there underneath (although mostly not under this particular bit), and b) the majority of the fucking things have not only been screwed down over the floorboards, but also GLUED. I shit you not. Also that some of the boards extend underneath the plasterboard9 wall

We decide this is a bigger job than us and have to at least put the flooring back down and move things we had moved from there into my room back so I can at least get into bed. We decide not to do anything else as it will only need moving again.

Around 6pm: My poor dad heads home. I discover I have a stray text from my mum about half an hour earlier asking if he's still with me.

Not long later: Run bath. Pour self bowl of tesco's coco pops in lieu of meal I haven't got the spoons to cook.10

Ominous message from mother: She is coming over tomorrow to hang the curtain, and set the spare room right again.

Sunday, about 9am: Ow. Owowowowow. Break out the painkillers. Fuck. Browse AO3 for Rose/Ten fics since I have just binged their season and I have feels, okay?

11:30: Text from mother: she is heading over around 1: do I want anything picking up at the temperance bar since she is going?11

Around 12: Decide should get dressed. Painkillers doing their job. Get clean jeans since she is dragging me out for curtain hoops. I might not drive, but I at least know where I'm going.12

12:15: spot a big, ominous wet patch above my bedroom door that is just about to start dripping. FUCK!

Shove water cup under the impending drip, grab towel and slightly larger container, replace cup. Grab bigger container and head for loft access hatch.

Realise loft access is behind all this shit we moved around in the spare room yesterday. Double fuck. Set about moving it elsewhere so I can get in.

12:30:Ring Dad and ask if he can bring over his big set of stepladders as I suspect I probably could get myself into the attic space13, but would break my neck coming back down. Also I need a torch that is not my phone. He laments that Mum has taken the big car. I call her instead, get her to head home and stock up on essentials (ladders, torch, Dad). I decide to change into yesterday's scruffy jeans since this isn't likely to be a clean job.

About 1-1:15: They arrive, and my dad manoeuvres himself into the attic. This is impressive and just a lot of a dangerous move or two involved. It takes a second person (read: me), which means I have no chance of getting up there myself.

Issue is with the chimney stack and can't actually get a bucket under it. But by the light of my phone14 he can see multiple other issues. Although he does move a slate back into place so I can't see daylight between it and its next-door neighbour. Bless him.

2:15: decide to get some lunch and the curtain hoops. Head into town. Can't park15 Mum decides she isn't hungry, drops us at Costa (it's open, at least) and goes to get the hoops herself.

3-ish: Get back. Sort spare room so it is habitable. Because there is still a drip from my bedroom doorframe, so guess where I'm suddenly sleeping tonight. Hang curtain16.

4-ish: Decide to actually put the handrail back, so we can feel we've at least achieved something useful. This turns out to be a bigger job than anticipated because the fucking plaster keeps falling apart and the rawlplugs won't hold properly. And the ones that will, we don't have screws the right size for. I mean...

5:30-ish: Rail is up. They leave. I run bath as everything is ouch.

7-ish: Can no longer ignore fact that I can hear dripping in the bathroom. Get out while bath is still full to try and work out where the fuck it is coming from. Take side panel off bath17. Not obvious. The outlet pipe has drippy bits all along it. Can't get a container under it. Yay.

Shove microfibre cloth under just to try and contain dripping. Suspect the joint in the pipe where new plumbing has been connected to older is the issue, but seems to be from both bloody ends of the joint piece.

7:45-ish: Drain bath, turn shower on so can wash hair. Little later than anticipated - won't dry properly now18.

tl;dr: I hate my house and everything about it.

1. The half that are on the useful side of the kitchen. You know, where the sink and hob are. The ones that help me do things like cook and wash up after dark.

2. Spotlights embedded into ceilings are clearly one of Crowley's inventions.

3. I am not a qualified electrician, but I have studied electronics at school, been taught on the side by my engineer dad, and I know my limits. Do not do this yourself if you aren't absolutely sure of what you're looking at.

4. Can't do it myself as my battery is dead and, guess what - I've turned the electricity off so I can't charge it. And my landline is cordless, so that needs power too.

5. other than Dad not realising that my ceilings are a little lower than his and going 1 step too high on the ladder. Muppet.

6. I removed this about 2 days after I moved in because of the 4 brackets supposedly securing it to the wall, only 2 actually were. I was more liable to break my neck using it than not. It didn't take me long to realise that while removing it was a 1 woman job, putting it back required more hands. 4 more, as it transpires.

7. Dad manages to hit his head on one of the protruding legs of the bed. I swear...

8. Honestly. They were screwed to the wall and then silicon sealed along the top (and joining edges). The carpet was screwed to the floor under the boards.

9. Drywall, for anyone of an American disposition.

10. Ignore suspicious dripping sound. This turns out to be something of a mistake.

11. Fucking yes, I am almost out of all my cordials. Curse not living near it any more

12. Mostly. One-way systems are a touch tricky when you don't have to obey them. As are bus-only routes.

13. On later reflection, this is incredibly doubtful since I lack the upper body strength to haul myself several feet straight up.

14. Because they brought a curtain and cushions as well as the big stepladder, but not a torch.

15. Also not something I have to think about often.

16. Discover Mum and I have been talking cross-purposes as to which side of the window it is going on. Fortunately this is not a massive issue.

17. Inventory of the under-bath: 2 bags grout, 1 tub of paint, 1 jigsaw piece, 1 part of an old loo roll holder, about 50cm of 1cm diameter dowel, 1 electrical cable that is quite possibly live given that an attempt has been made to insulate it inside a plastic bag. What is not there is the wooden frame that should support the sides of the plastic bath.

18. There are many advantages to the care and maintenance of curly hair. Not being able to blow-dry it is NOT one of them. Not having to, otoh, is.

[itsybitsylemonsqueezy]

Odd numbers (sfw & nsfw) for nygmobblepot if you would like?

Good times!

SFW

1. Who cooks? Honestly? Neither. They both CAN, technically speaking, but Ed is skin and bones for a reason and Oswald won’t cook if he can get out of it. Ed, when left to his own devices, never eats enough or makes food that’s very appetizing anyway, although it IS perfectly edible. Oswald has some culinary flair in the kitchen, but it reminds him too much of his mom, so he only cooks on special occasions. So mostly they eat in fancy restaurants or order to go if it’s an especially busy evening of nefarious planning.

3. Who fixes the vehicle after a breakdown?Again, neither. Ed COULD fix anything, if given infinite time, but they really don’t have infinite time, so Oswald always opts to call a guy instead. Although, Ed insists he could make a decent mechanic (plumber, electrician, roofer, etc.) if given the proper equipment and patience.

5. Who buys the groceries?Oswald makes the list, Ed goes and buys them. They don’t shop together anymore, their arguments are prone to leveling buildings. As long as Ed brings home 90% of what Oswald told him to get, usually they can keep the house in one piece.

7. Would they go to the beach?Only in the awkward Sweeney Todd sense. Complete with far too modest bathing clothes and a black, cloth umbrella. Ed wore normal bathing trunks once. They fell right off his skinny hips as soon as he stepped in the ocean. So, yeah, no, unitards it is.

9. Is someone multilingual? Do they try to teach another language to the other? How does it go?Oswald speaks, like, 3 words of his mother’s home language. Ed took it upon himself to research this in depth and has taught himself enough to be conversational fluent in it. This horrifies and touches Oswald who never lets Ed use it if at all possible.

11. Baths or showers? Together or separate? Any bubbles or bubble fights?Bathing together is one of the KEY PLEASURES they can enjoy together without fighting. Yes, please, always. They don’t ALWAYS bathe together, as that would be massively inconvenient, but they do prefer it. There’s just something about the hot, wet intimacy that puts fighting aside and lets them enjoy each other again.

13. Who stays up late? Who sleeps the most? Does the other have to force them to sleep/wake up?If Oswald didn’t have a zillion responsibilities that obligate him to be awake before 10, he would sleep till 2 in the afternoon every day thank you very much. But since he is a Very Important Man, he has a strict schedule of waking and sleeping so that he is awake and alert at all the right times. Ed, on the other hand, has gone several days in a row without sleep and not realized. He has to be physically put to bed or will just... never sleep. Fortunately, if Oswald’s going to bed, Ed’s pretty keen to follow him and can be easily convinced to drop what he’s doing if Oswald comes and gets him.

15. Vacation ideas: who decides them? Where would they go, if anywhere?Neither of them ever want to leave Gotham for very long, for every possible reason, so vacations are always short and rarely relaxing. But, Oswald does favor seeing Old World Europe and frequenting the seats of great empires. Ed doesn’t mind them, the art and architecture are often fascinating and he likes seeing Oswald aglow with wonder and delight at the dictators of history.

NSFW

1. How often do they have sex, if at all? A fine question. It depends who pissed off who and about what recently, but in general, if things are going well, they have sex a couple times a week. At first it was MUCH more rare, but they slowly relaxed into it. Ed’s KIND OF a whore and Oswald KIND OF likes it. It’s a good time.

3. Any kinks they clash on?Well... Ed’s is a masochistic little bitch. And sometimes that’s too much for Oswald, who needs a strong distinction between pain-pleasure and just pain. He doesn’t get off on hurting people in his professional life, but he does get off on hurting Ed because Ed likes it. And this DOES satisfy Oswald’s ego and dominance, but the sort of pain Ed wants can in no way look like the things Oswald does to people he genuinely wants to hurt. But normally Ed’s pretty good about that and there’s no conflict c:

5. Favourite positions?Ed riding Oswald cowboy-style is pretty popular. But also Ed face down on the bed getting fucked into the pillows is pretty popular too. In general, Ed is a manipulative sub, but there’s the occasional switch. Sometimes Oswald wants to be taken care of too.

7. Genital headcanons?I mean, to be honest, I’ve never thought of it before ^^; I tend to default to uncut for most penises because that just seems... more comfortable. But given the time period and culture here, I can’t ignore the fact that either or both of them could be circumcised. I expect them both to be average size and shape. But, I do have my fond supernatural AU where Oswald is a werewolf and Ed is an incubus, and, y’know, you might get some interesting sized and shaped penises there ;)

9. Quickest turn ons? Immediate turn offs? For Ed: Turn Ons: dominance, people throwing him around/manhandling, punishment of near any kind, genderfucking (be it androgyny or drag or both, him or his partner or both). Turn Offs: humiliation especially re: his intelligence/personality, people being submissive to him, silence. He is a loud fuck, this is 110% canon.

For Oswald: Turn Ons: submission, flattery/begging, unexpectedly brilliant giant nerds, people doing shit for him/wooing him/to win his favor. Turn Offs: humiliation especially re: his body in any sense, but ESPECIALLY his feet, being belittled, submitting to others, anyone thinking they have power/control over him. Not a lot of secrets to Oswald, really, he likes the things you’d expect, he dislikes the things you’d expect.

11. Favourite romantic gestures during sex/orgasm? Ooooooh, shit, good question! Oswald’s a hand-squeezer, Ed’s a kisser. Ed is extremely affectionate and cuddly post-orgasm, like... hands all over Oswald, petting and fawning and cuddling. Which works out because Oswald is very docile and willing to be coddled post-orgasm. They’re both into hair play, both sexual and platonic. Yes, good, this was a good question, thank.

13. Who’s loud? Who’s quiet? Does one try to make the other louder/quieter? How?*sporfle* Ed is louder by like... a factor of 1000%. Ed could not, would not shut up, come hell or high water. If you’re fucking Ed Nygma, literally Everyone Will Know. There’s NO WAY to keep that shit secret, unless you literally gag him and... even then. The boy is basically a pair of lungs and some very aroused genitals. Oswald... can be loud, but usually has to be coaxed into it ;) It’s just a sign that he’s having a good time. Whereas Ed is just... mmm. Mmm.

15. Open or closed relationship? Do they sometimes share? You want to get involved with this? Be my guest : | I mean, Zsasz is always there for Oswald during the break up periods, but nothing really happens there. Ed has a thing for Lucius Fox and Oswald has an on-again-off-again crush on Jim Gordon, but... again, you REALLY want to get in the middle of this? No. No one with half a brain would go NEAR this shit. It is very well-known and well-documented that anyone who so much as LOOKS at one of them will get courtship murdered by the other. So, y’know, do you really want to gamble your life on that Penguin D or that Riddler Ass? Do you?

[hymn2000]

Called To Be A Rock - Frostiron feat. Spiderson AU fanfic - C12

Chapter 1  Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11

Comments/reviews/questions welcome as always

Overall Desc.: Peter is staying with Tony and Loki one summer while his aunt is away working/travelling.

Chapter Desc.: Post-holiday blues are one hell of a phenomenon. It doesn’t always take long trips to trigger them. Loki drops into a downwards spiral, and Thor takes drastic measures.

Ship(s) involved: Tony x Loki aka Frostiron

Verse: Personal AU

Ongoing Warnings/themes/cw mentions: sickness, domestic, mental health issues, abuse mentions, descriptions of severe anxiety, angst

Chapter 12 - Take The Ropes And Fuck It All - Part One

-

The short trip away seemed to do everyone good. They returned home in good spirits. Once home, Tony turned his phone off for the rest of the day so he could enjoy ignoring his commitments for a while longer. 

Loki and Peter were feeling close, and were quite happy spending the afternoon drinking tea and play-fighting on the rug in front of the telly (and very nearly knocking the set over more than once in the process). Tony was happy nursing a large whiskey and keeping an eye on them. The sun was warm through the windows, turning the mood to a perfect lazy Sunday.

-

For a while, everything was good. Monday came and went, and Tuesday found Tony and Peter working on a new project, spending much of the day down in the lab while Loki took to his reading nook. Eventually he grew tired, having now read every book in the house that wasn’t an electricians manual. Somehow, he didn’t really feel like rereading anything. Even the one’s he had enjoyed seemed tremendously dull now. 

Loki retired early that night, having exhausted all possibilities of entertainment, and feeling rather lonely too. Tony and Peter had emerged briefly in the afternoon, and Loki had been pleased to see them, but within half an hour they were back down in the lab. Loki found it very hard indeed not to mind. 

-

Wednesday morning came as a shock. Loki awoke early, and as soon as he did, he was overcome with a sense of absolute dread. It took him quite by surprise, and try as he might, he couldn’t pin down a reason for the feeling. At a loss of what else to do, he went to Tony’s room and crawled into bed with him, wriggling under his arm. Tony grumbled, but pulled him close anyway.

“It’s five-thirty am, did you know?”

Loki didn’t reply, and Tony soon fell back asleep. Loki didn’t have such luck. He curled up with his head against Tony’s chest, listening to his heartbeat. For once, it did nothing to calm his nerves. He struggled to shake off the feeling of dread he’d woken up with. His thoughts raced as he lay there, feelings he’d pushed right to the back of his mind resurfacing. He tried to repress them, tried to think instead of the weekend he’d just had, but he struggled to see what he wanted to. He tried to remember the dandelion and burdock, the tennis, the talk about nights out, cuddling by the fire... But it all got taken over by feeling sick, struggling under water, snapping at Peter. He felt more than he saw, growing steadily more overwhelmed. He screwed his eyes closed, jerking his head slightly as though he was trying to shake the thoughts. 

-

He must have slept eventually, because he woke up alone. He checked the clock on the bedside table. 8.30am. He wandered back to his own room, brushing his teeth and getting dressed in a distracted manner. 

He found Tony in the kitchen, making himself a mug of coffee - awkwardly, because he had his phone between his ear and shoulder. He looked royally fed up. 

“Should I-” Loki started, but Tony put a hand over his mouth to quieten him. 

“Well, why can’t you sort it? That’s what you’re paid for” Tony grumbled into the handset, letting his hand drop and going back to his coffee. 

Loki tried to hug him, but was stopped quite firmly. 

“What? No, it’s nothing important” Tony said, holding his phone properly and standing back against the counter.

Loki tried not to let that remark hurt him, but it did. Tony wasn’t in a good mood, largely as a result of this current phone call. He sighed, looking at Loki and placing his phone back between his ear and shoulder. 

“That’s not my problem. Just call the technician later if you’re still stuck: it’s not that difficult. It certainly doesn’t warrant an early morning call” Tony said, sorting out the mismatched button on Loki’s polo top. “What do you mean, it’s not that simple?” he took hold of the phone properly again. “Yes it is. You’ve got a manual, and I suggest you use it”

He turned Loki round, giving him a little push towards the door. He was starting to get very angry and impatient with the incompetence he was forced to put up with.

-

Loki went off to the reading nook, feeling quite dejected. He sat down heavily on the right side of the window seat, even though he’d always preferred the left. He looked at the bookshelf, filled with its endless boring novels. He looked at his empty dolphin bowl and the assortment of cushions and blankets. Usually the most comforting place in the world, the reading nook seemed to have lost its potency. Everything seemed unfamiliar and distant. He felt ill. Sick, and scared. All the feelings that had been swimming in his mind earlier on had resurfaced. The sense of dread was stronger than ever. He could hear his pulse, beating deafeningly in his ears. A horrible, hot feeling swirled in his chest and stomach, and goosebumps sprung up all down his arms. 

Before he even really knew what was happening, he had both hands clamped over his mouth, muffling his sobs. It took him by surprise, and because he hadn’t known it would start, it was impossible to stop. He tried desperately to stop, but his efforts were wasted. If anything, trying to stop only made him cry more. 

-

He soon became aware of someone watching him. He looked up, seeing Tony through his tears, and found himself crying harder still. He felt like such an idiot, crying so uncontrollably, but he couldn’t help it. He leant back against the wall, covering his face with his hands. He couldn’t speak. He desperately wanted to. He wanted to look at Tony and tell him - tell him what? He didn’t even know what he was feeling, so what hope was there for explaining it to someone else?

Eventually he managed to muster a bit of strength, moving his hands away from his face.

“Don’t just stand there-!”

Tony hadn’t moved, still stood with his arms crossed over his chest, phone in one hand. 

“What do you want me to do?”

“I don’t know-!” his voice broke, and he drew his knees up to his chest, burying his face in his hands again. “I don’t know!”

Tony went to lay a hand on his shoulder, but his phone rang, distracting him. Loki looked up for a moment as Tony looked at the screen, waiting to see what would take precedence. 

“I’m going to have to take this”

Loki may well have been stabbed, for all the pain it caused him. He found himself falling onto his side in uncontrollable torment. He hated every inch of himself with every fibre of his being. He felt like he was cursed to carry on like this forever. Panic was rising in his throat.

“Just do it!” he cursed himself. “If you’re gonna have a panic attack, just bloody, fucking well get on with it-!”

But he didn’t. He collapsed into the nest of pillows and blankets, pulling one over his face, and feeling in that moment that he may well be better off dead.

-

Tony didn’t return to him, and Loki wasn’t sure if that was a mercy or not. Eventually he managed to grant himself some level of composure, and pushed himself up from the window seat in a dizzy haze. He needed to do something - anything - and the box of cigarettes and bottle of vodka in the drawer of his bedside table seemed to fit the bill. 

As he stepped out into the hall, feeling a bit surreal, he heard the doorbell ring, and the door began to open. He knew who it was straight away: there was only one person he knew to call round and enter without permission, who rang the bell as more of an announcement of their arrival than anything else. Loki held his breath for a moment, and as soon as he laid eyes on his brother, he lost it again.

“Loki?”

He sunk to his knees, too overcome with emotion to stay upright.

“Loki!”

Thor closed the door and dropped to his knees before Loki, gathering him up into his arms and cradling him. 

“It’s ok Loki, it’s ok. I’m here now”

Loki clung to him desperately, unable to quieten but reassured by his presence and the weight of his hand on the back of his head. 

“Thor? What are you doing here?” Tony had appeared in the hall. “I’m far too busy to entertain today”

“I came to see Loki, and thank god I did. What’s going on here?”

“He’s just having one of those mornings” Tony knelt down too, going to hug Loki, but Thor gave him a shove, knocking him backwards. “Ow! What are you playing at?”

“This is your doing” Thor snapped, rather thinking Tony didn’t look very concerned or interested. “What have you done to him?”

“What?! I haven’t done anything! What kind of question is that?”

Thor stood up, helping Loki to his feet and keeping him close. Loki looked between the two of them, suddenly sensing he was caught in the crossfire. Tony stood up too, getting defensive. 

“Look, you know what he’s like: he gets upset sometimes”

“Not like this” Thor said. “Never like this. What did you do to him?”

“Oh for gods sake; I didn’t do anything! Why do you have to keep interfering in our business all the time? So he’s upset: that doesn’t mean it’s my fault!”

“This is the second time this month that I’ve showed up to find him in a state. You’re the common factor here, Stark. I don’t trust you”

“Get out of here. I’ve got enough to deal with without you throwing accusations at me” he went to take Loki’s hand, but Thor gave him another shove.

“Don’t you dare. Come on brother; you’re coming with me”

“What?! You can’t just snatch him away!” Tony protested. “Leave him alone; can’t you see you’re upsetting him?”

“This is your doing, Stark, not mine”

Loki was still crying, and so not in a position to tell them that they were both upsetting him. Thor put an arm round him properly.

“I don’t trust you. I’m taking him home with me”

“How the hell can you not trust me?! Our relationship isn’t just bedroom stuff, you know. Who do you think it is looking after him all the time? This is his home: you can’t just take him away!”

“I can if that’s what’s best for him. I’m not going to stand by and let you hurt him”

Tony darted and made a grab for Loki, and Thor snapped, pulling Loki out of his reach and slapping Tony across the face.

“Don’t even think about it!” 

-

Thor set Loki down in the kitchen back at the flat, putting a glass of water down in front of him. Loki had stopped crying on the journey over, and was left feeling very hollow and drained. 

“I think I need to go to sleep”

Thor nodded. “Ok”

Loki stood up shakily, leaving the glass of water where it sat, stumbling through to the living room. He lay down on the sofa in the sun, staring ahead, but not really seeing anything. He barely noticed Thor putting a blanket over him. He felt stupid. He felt guilty and scared and embarrassed. But more than that, he felt tired. He wanted to fall asleep for a very long time.

-

Sleep is one hell of a healer. When Loki awoke, everything felt hazy, but it felt aligned, like someone had sorted everything while he was absent. He felt a bit lightheaded and groggy, but the sense of dread had lifted, and he no longer felt like screaming his heart out. 

“Oh, you’re awake” Thor said, giving Loki a quick squeeze when he came out into the kitchen. “How are you doing?”

“Better” 

“Are you ready to talk about it?”

“I’m not sure there’s anything much to talk about”

“Loki. I’ve never seen you like that before. I’ve never seen anyone like that before. That wasn’t just you having a bad morning: that was something serious. What happened?”

Loki shrugged. Thor sighed.

“Loki, whatever it is, you can tell me. It was Tony, wasn’t it?” Loki looked up. “It was, wasn’t it?”

“What? No! Don’t say that” Loki said indignantly. 

“Loki, if he’s hurting you, you need to tell me about it”

“What? Of course he’s not hurting me! Whatever would give you that idea?”

Thor gestured for him to come over, which he did, reluctantly. He took hold of the hem of Loki’s shirt.

“I’m just going to take this off, ok?”

“Why?”

“Just humour me”

Loki did, but he wasn’t happy about it. Thor looked at him carefully, turning him to see better. Loki didn’t appreciate being manhandled.

“What are you doing?”

“How did you get these bruises?”

Loki looked at himself. Admittedly, he did look a bit knocked about, with quite a few marks. His knife wound was almost fully healed, but the bruises on his hips and lower back looked quite nasty. Thor gently touched his shoulder blade.

“And this one?”

Loki hadn’t known about that one - but then, he wasn’t in the habit of examining his back, so how could he?

“I had a wrestle with Peter the other day. Well, quite a few rounds. It got a bit rough”

Thor didn’t look convinced, and Loki noticed this. It suddenly clicked.

“Wait, you don’t seriously think Tony gave me these bruises, do you?”

Thor nodded. “I know he’s hurt you before”

“What? When? And don’t you dare say the argument the other week, because not only was that an accident, it was a one-off too, and you know it!”

“Loki, please” Thor said. “Stop lying to me”

“I’m not lying! Tony would never do anything to hurt me. These bruises are nothing to do with him”

“Have you got any more? Take your trousers off”

“What?! No!”

Thor grabbed him, pining him against the fridge.

“What the hell are you doing?! Hey, don’t you dare!”

Much to Loki’s dismay, Thor exposed his legs. Loki shouted and swore at him, but Thor didn’t take any notice. He saw the bruises on Loki’s thigh, quite obviously finger marks. 

“What the hell has he does to you?!”

“What? Oh, so we like getting a bit rough in the bedroom, so what?! Let go of me!”

Thor did so, and Loki pulled his trousers back up, absolutely fuming. 

“I don’t need this! You and your paranoia have put me into too many compromising positions” he grabbed his shirt, pulling it back on. “I’m going home”

He made for the door, and Thor grabbed him round the chest.

“You are home. You’re not going back there: I won’t let you”

“What are you talking about? I don’t live here” he struggled out of Thor’s grip, standing before him. “This was never my home, even before. Just leave me alone: I’m sick of you interfering with my relationship”

“Loki, I can’t let you go back. I’m not going to stand by and watch you let him abuse you”

“For gods sake, I’m not being abused! How many times do I have to say it?” he looked at Thor, and suddenly his anger turned to fear. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

“I don’t. There’s too much evidence. I can’t stand by and watch you get hurt”

“But-but, I’m not getting hurt! I swear it! Tony would never hurt me, he’s never laid a finger on me” Loki gabbled, getting a horrible feeling in his chest. “I’m telling the truth. Please, you’ve got to believe me!”

“I can’t. You’re being abused, and I’ve sat by too long. I can’t take any more chances”

Loki laughed nervously, but it sounded more like he was crying. “Brother...”

“I have to do what’s best for you”

Loki looked at him, all the colour draining from his face. “What do you mean?”

“I’m sorry, Loki. I can’t let you see Stark again. From now on, you stay here”

Everything shattered around them. All Loki could see was Thor, and he knew he hadn’t made an idle threat. He could feel himself shaking, hear himself laughing to try to stop himself from crying again.

“You don’t mean that. You don’t mean that..!”

“Yes, I do. And you know that I do” he felt horrible. He all but watched Loki’s heart break before his very eyes. “That’s just the way it has to be”

Loki knew this was it, and he didn’t know how to comprehend it. He was still laughing, half-covering his mouth, shaking his head.

“You can’t. No, no, you can’t, you can’t do that” Loki said. His voice sounded funny, higher than usual, and shaky. “I need to go home. I’m going home..!”

Thor looked him in the eye. “No”

Loki laughed more for a moment, scared out of his wits. It soon turned to cries, and he found himself on his knees, clinging to Thor’s shirt and shaking his head.

“No. No, you can’t make me stay here! Brother, please! Please let me go! You have to let me go!”

Thor looked down at him, a stabbing pain in his chest. It was almost more than he could bear, seeing Loki this way. But he felt it was a necessary burden. 

“I need to go home! I need to be with Tony, I need to be with him, please! Please, I’m begging you! I’m begging you to let me go!” 

Emotion took over, and he was overcome with sobs once again. His hands fell from Thor’s shirt, and all dignity went out of the window as he cried on his hands and knees, still begging incoherently, growing hysterical. Thor knelt down in front of him, his heart pounding in his chest. Loki grabbed at him, pulling himself to his knees with the help of Thor’s shirt. 

“You can’t do this to me, you just can’t! You can’t do this-! You can’t! You c- you ca- you-” he stopped, gasping, clutching his chest with one hand. “You c- you c- c- c-, I ca- I can’t-”

“Loki?”

Loki was breathing short, sharp breaths that made his whole body judder as he did so. His hand slid from Thor’s shirt to the floor, the other still clutching his chest.

“I can’t breathe-! I can’t brea- I can’t- I can’t, I ca-, I can’t-”

“Loki, Loki, it’s ok, you’re ok” Thor sat him up against a nearby cupboard. Loki tried to push him away, but was too deep in a frenzy to best him. “Loki. Loki, listen to me”

Loki covered his ears and closed his eyes, too scared to know where to look. He couldn’t breathe. His chest hurt. He felt sick. He had pins and needles in hands and feet, and a tingling in his lips. The room seemed to shake around him. Thor took his hands, taking them away from his ears and holding them tight. 

“Loki, Loki, you’re ok, you’re going to be fine. You’re having a panic attack, that’s it. It’s just a panic attack” 

Loki knew that already. He’d never had one quite like this before. It completely took over. He could feel Thor’s hands, but it felt like he was being held through thick gloves. He could see him, but it was like looking through frosted glass. He could hear him, but it sounded like he was listening from the other side of a door.

“Focus on me, Loki. Focus on me. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere”

Thor took his face in his hands, looking him in the eye. 

“You need to breath. Focus on your breathing now”

“I-I can’t!”

“Yes you can. Come on now, in and out. Slowly”

“I can’t-” 

For a while it seemed he was right. He tried, but every deep breath he tried to take was cut up by several small ones. Thor kept encouraging him, telling him to keep trying. 

Eventually he managed a shuddering, but slow breath.

“That’s it. Keep doing that. Breath with me now. In... And out. That’s it; you’re doing really well” 

Loki did his best, and soon his breathing improved, his heart rate slowed, and within a few minutes, he’d calmed almost completely. He was still trembling slightly, still feeling rough, but he was definitely over the worst of it.

Thor stroked Loki’s cheek gently. “That’s it now. It’s all over now. Well done”

Loki collapsed against him, exhausted. He opened his mouth to speak, but quickly realised he didn’t know what to say. So he stayed quiet, and let his eyes close. Thor held him tight, biting back an apology. He couldn’t give in, not when there was so much at stake.

-

Loki let Thor settle him on the sofa. The sun was starting to set outside, and nothing felt quite real. Thor wasn’t sure how best to comfort him. He knew angry outbursts were on the horizon. 

“Everything will feel better after you’ve had a good nights sleep” 

Loki didn’t bother looking at him. Thor sat beside him. 

“I’m worried about you, brother. That man has such a hold over you. You took my decision really badly”

“And how would you react?” Loki said bitterly, still staring straight ahead. “If you were stolen away from your family and told you couldn’t see them again?”

“I didn’t steal you away: you didn’t exactly protest when I told you to come home with me”

“I was upset: I’m allowed a momentary lapse of judgement” his voice sounded odd, disconnected. “I can’t believe you’re doing this to me”

“I’m trying to protect you. I know it feels like the worst thing ever to happen right now, but it well get better. You’ll thank me one day” 

Loki rested his forehead in his hand and closed his eyes, but he couldn’t stop the tears from spilling down his cheeks. Thor went to comfort him, but Loki flinched away from his touch. Thor sighed sadly. 

“I’ll give you a minute”

He excused himself and went out to the kitchen. He tried to remember what he used to cook when Loki was still living with him. It wasn’t a memory he’d retained too well. He could only think of one thing. He checked he had the right things in the cupboard, and set to work.

-

Loki looked up as Thor came back into the room. 

“You’ve burnt up a lot of energy today” Thor said, putting a cushion on Loki’s lap and balancing one of the plates on top of it. “Eat”

Loki opened his mouth to speak, but Thor stopped him before he could say anything.

“Now don’t you dare say you’re not hungry, because I know you are, even if you don’t feel like eating” he sat down in the armchair by the sofa. “I bet you’ve forgotten how good my chip butties are: it’s been so long since you’ve been round. Go on. You need your strength” 

Loki was feeling too weak to argue the point, and too tired to be defiant. He picked up the butty and took a bite - and was immediately reminded of just how good Thor’s chip butties really were. It was a single moment of bliss in an otherwise horrendous day. Thor was relieved to see Loki settling down and tucking in. He couldn’t fix everything, but he could start with the little things.

-

Loki felt much better now he had a full stomach. He crawled onto the armchair, moving into Thor’s lap, as it proved a bit of a squash being side by side. 

“I wish I could make you believe me” he said. “Tony gets angry sometimes, of course he does. But he-”

“You don’t need to defend his actions. There’s no excuse for hurting you”

“But-”

The phone started to ring, distracting him. Thor didn’t take any notice.

“You should get that”

“It won’t be anything important”

Loki couldn’t bear to leave it ringing, so he knelt by the telephone table and answered it. 

“Hello?”

“Loki?”

“Tony!”

Thor snatched the receiver from him. “Stark”

“Thor. When are you bringing Loki back?”

“I’m not”

“What do you mean, you’re not? Why do you have to keep sticking your nose in?! Bring him back, now! We’ve got plans”

Loki stayed where he was, listening to the buzz of Tony’s voice, trying to work out exactly what was being said. This end made it clear it was an argument. Loki tried to grab the phone back.

“Let me speak to him!” 

Thor grabbed his wrist, stopping him. Loki listened hard.

“You can’t just take him like this! Did you even stop to ask what he wants? Right, bring him back or I’ll-”

Thor put the phone down on him. Loki looked up at him. Thor looked down at him.

“What?”

“I wanted to talk to him”

“Loki” Thor knelt down. “When I said you can’t see him, that also means you can’t have contact with him. That means none whatsoever. We have to completely cut him out of your life. It’s for the best. You do understand that, don’t you?”

“But I love him” Loki whispered, and tears spurted down his cheeks. 

“I know you do”

“He loves me too”

Thor wasn’t convinced. “He wouldn’t hurt you if he did”

“I need to talk to him”

He went to grab the phone, and Thor stopped him quickly. 

“No. The phone is off limits now, understand? That man is nothing to do with you anymore, ok?”

“That man has a name!” Loki suddenly shouted. “He has a name. He’s my boyfriend and-”

“Not any more. You can’t be in a relationship with an abuser”

“He’s not an abuser! Stop saying that! Why won’t you believe me??” Loki cried. “Where’s your proof?!”

Thor grabbed hold of him, yanking his shirt up to expose his bruises.

“These are a good start”

“Those are nothing to do with Tony, I’ve already told you! You’re just trying to break us apart!” 

“Of course I’m trying to break you apart!” Thor snapped. “I promised to take care of you: I’m not going to let you be with someone who puts you in such sorry states as this”

“You can’t blame him for this! You’re the one who’s done this to me!” Loki stood up, squaring up. Thor got to his feet.

“Loki, please. That’s just the dependence talking” 

“What does that even mean?! Stop treating me like a victim! I don’t need you interfering like this! Even if Tony was abusing me - which he’s not - I wouldn’t be running to you for help. I hate you!” 

Loki pounced, half-blinded by tears, acting from emotion more than malice. Thor managed to catch and restrain him easily enough with an arm round his chest, holding his wrists together in his other hand. Loki didn’t even bother struggling: he just cried. 

-

Thor carted Loki off to his old room, sitting him down on the bed. 

“You need to rest” he said firmly. “You need rest and time to get your head around what’s happened today. I’m going to leave you alone for a bit while I find you something to get changed into, ok?”

Loki let him leave. He looked round the little room, remembering when he used to live there. He’d always hated this flat, hated this room: it always felt like a prison. It felt like that again tonight. He screamed with the anguish of it all.

“Look what you’ve turned me in to!” he exploded at Thor when he returned, grabbing his shoulders. “Look what you’ve done to me! I don’t even know who I am any more!”

Thor decided ignoring his outburst was the wisest course of action. He sat him back down on the bed, helping him out of his clothes and into the pyjamas he’d found for him.

“There. You’re still a bit swamped, but it’s better than nothing. I’ll go and get some of your things for you in a day or two” 

Loki stared at him in visible confusion, wondering what exactly was happening, and why Thor hadn’t shouted at him. Everything felt to be the very definition of Wrong.

“Come on, brother, it’s time you went to sleep”

Loki kept his eyes glued on Thor as he obediently climbed into bed and allowed himself to be tucked in. 

“Things will be different in the morning. You’ll see” Thor locked the window, putting the key in his pocket. “Goodnight, Loki”

-

Once he heard the click of the door closing, Loki sat up again. He felt close to panic-attack level again. He looked round the dark little room, feeling like the walls were closing in on him. He knelt up on the bed, pulling at the handle on the window, hoping to buckle it. He’d started to shake again. The window wasn’t huge, but he knew from experience that he could fit through it easily. All his strength seemed to have disappeared, but he wasn’t willing to give up just yet. He knew breaking the glass was out of the question though: he’d surely be caught. 

Footsteps sounded, and Loki let go of the window handle like it was red hot, plonking back onto the bed just as the door opened. 

“Thought you might need a drink” Thor placed a large glass of water on the bedside table. He stroked Loki’s face gently. “Lay back down. Poor old stick”

“Don’t pretend you care”

Thor chose not to take it to heart: he knew Loki must be hurting dreadfully. He sat on the edge of the bed.

“I do care. Now, I’m going to stay until you fall asleep”

Loki almost spat a remark about not needing a prison guard, but it didn’t quite reach his mouth. He gave in, utterly exhausted, and lay back down on his side, his back to Thor. He didn’t belong there. He wanted Tony so much. He wanted to be back at home in his own bed, surrounded by his own things. He wanted to be anywhere other that Thor’s flat. He wanted to be somewhere where he’d be believed. The life he’d spent the last few years building for himself seemed to have completely collapsed in the space of a day. He’d been forced to watch it crumble before his eyes, at the hands of his brother.

But he couldn’t hate Thor, not really. Because he did care, and he was there, stroking his hair gently and reminding him that everything would be ok. And in that moment, he was all that he had.

*

[keziacole]

tagged by @bumbleblossoms​ - thank you! 

Tagged Rules: Answer these 92 statements and tag 20 people.

THE LAST:

1. Drink: Coffeeeeeee

2. Phone call: My partner, just as they left the dentist. :( 3. Text message: Motherbot 2.0 4. Song you listened to: Been Caught Stealing – Jane’s Addiction 5. Time you cried: Uh… some point in the last couple months, I guess? Not sure when, but it was at something related to dogs. Honestly, I did most of my crying last year, during The Year From Hell, and I’m still a bit dried out.

6-92 under the cut. :)

HAVE YOU:

6. Dated someone twice: As in getting back together again? Nooooo. 7. Kissed someone and regretted it: …yup. Often. Sometimes not until a long while later, though!   8. Been cheated on: Not to my knowledge. 9. Lost someone special: Yep. 10. Been depressed:  Eh, I’ve never been diagnosed with depression, so no, I don’t think so. Situationally really fucked off with things? Yes. 11. Gotten drunk and thrown up: Once. Story time, everyone! 

So, I generally have a really good alcohol tolerance and a cast iron stomach (not necessarily for good reasons, but hey), but I did once go to a party that ended very badly. I was about 17, had recently been diagnosed with CFS, and was on a heavy painkiller regimen. I drank when I shouldn’t really have done so, because bullshit and All the Emotional Drama, BUT… I did not know that my friend’s asshole brother had spiked my drink. (He was a peach. Gave his 14 year old brother acid once just to point and laugh at the result. Fuckin’ hated that guy.)

At some point in the evening – somewhere after the sham marriages, interpretative dance, and someone putting someone else through a table, because teen parties – I realised I was wayyy more wasted than I should have been, despite the painkillers, and I ended up spending all night hallucinating and throwing up, plus feeling horrific for about three days afterwards. 

Moral of the story: if you spike people’s drinks, you are a gigantic bag of toe lint and should suffer mosquito bites on your asshole for a thousand years. The end.

LIST 3 FAVORITE COLORS: 12. Purple 13. Red 14. Blue

IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU:

15. Made new friends: Not yet. Befriend me, tumblr, you’re my only hope.  16. Fallen out of love: No, though I have watched my relationship with at least one family member crumble into dust. Does that count?  17. Laughed until you cried: At least four times a week. Which is one big reason why I’m marrying that motherfucker.  18. Found out someone was talking about you: Yes. See 16. 19. Met someone who changed you: Not yet.  20. Found out who your friends are: Yes, sadly. It sucks when you realise how effectively someone has manipulated the people around you.  21. Kissed someone on your Facebook list: Nah, I don’t really do the FB thing. I should, I guess?

GENERAL:

22. How many of your Facebook friends do you know in real life: See above. I kind of have a profile, but I only use it to message people I’m related to who are freaking obsessed with Facebook and won’t communicate any other way. Ugh. So… most of them? I guess?   23. Do you have any pets: One dog – Hector, a grumpy and elderly terrier - down from two resident mutts and a boatload of fosters. Older dog died last year, and I’m not in a position to foster right now, which sucks, because I miss having a house full of beasties, not to mention making a difference. 24. Do you want to change your name: Already have done/am doing! I have no real interest in keeping up with more than 80% of the people I’m related to, and I never liked my birth name, plus this is easier to spell and dictate to people, and isn’t known by the abusive assholes in my life. So, yay! 25. What did you do for your last birthday: Ordered pizza and watched favourite movies with my partner. We did The Blues Brothers and shit-talked the progression of police militarisation in the US over the past 30 years, and it was incredibly fun, despite the fact we’re 3000 miles apart right now. Also, they remembered my birthday, which is more than can be said for over two-thirds of the people I’m related to.  26. What time did you wake up: 9am, but in my defence I was up until 3 last night. 

27. What were you doing at midnight last night: Talking shit with my partner, knitting an afghan, and watching foster kitten cams and reviews of awful movies together, because these are good ways to help someone who has a dental appointment in the morning try to stay calm. 28. Name something you can’t wait for: Getting my current backlog of work finished. Sooo clooose…. Promised myself a movie and gaming binge when I’m done. 29. When was the last time you saw your mom: Last week. 30. What is one thing you wish you could change in your life: Either having enough money to fix all my problems (yes, in this case, money most certainly can do that), or just being on the same continent as my partner, so we didn’t have this immigration thing to worry about. Not having a debilitating illness that fucks everything up would be pretty awesome, too.  31. What are you listening right now: Freddie King 32. Have you ever talked to a person named Tom: Yep, many Toms. All the Toms. Well, like, five plus. 33. Something that is getting on your nerves: Not knowing whether or not the electrician is going to show up tomorrow, which will mean I need to move the paintings and quilt top I currently have all over the sitting room floor. I’m not done piecing that thing yet. Grr. 34. Most visited website: Lots. Mostly Google, Politico, Reuters etc., but I’m living on eBay right now because I’m trying to sell off a bunch of DVDs, books, and vintage glassware. …Does anyone want to buy some vintage/antique glassware? 35. Mole/s: Yep. I had one removed from my back once. Turned out to be benign (phew!) but I got an interesting scar out of it. 36. Mark/s: I still have a faint surgery scar on my elbow, but it doesn’t look as Frankenstein-y now. Most of my scars have faded, but I still have some weird idiosyncrasies from things that have been broken or busted up. 37. Childhood dream: Writing was always my main thing, but also acting/directing. Illness took that away. Other than that, I always wanted to live somewhere rural with lots of animals, and be happy.  39. Long or short hair: Long. Lots. It’s huge. Send help. I like both on other people.  40. Do you have a crush on someone: Not right now. Give me ten minutes and a new Fet profile to stalk and I’ll get back to you... 41. What do you like about yourself: I’m a creative dynamo and I don’t stop until I fall down. I’m also proud of the fact that I’m a pretty compassionate and patient person, and I like the fact I’m slow to really anger. Someone told me recently I’m a very stabilising influence, and that was nice to hear. I feel like life can use more of that.  42. Piercings: Ears (two left, three right), nose (left). More on the way, maybe, when I can justify it.  43. Blood type: ???? I should check. I know the NHS won’t let me donate blood because of my medical condition, which blows.  44. Nickname: Zia. Some people call me Kez. One person is allowed to call me Admiral Fuckface McAsshole III.  45. Relationship status: Open relationship with my primary partner, technically speaking. Poly is good, but my planner is too cluttered for anarchy.  46. Zodiac: Aries w/ Aquarius moon, Virgo ascendant. I also have Mars and Venus in Taurus, so mooooo. And yes, I did used to do natal charts for beer money. I read palms, too. I’d still do it if asked nicely.  47. Pronouns: They/She. I don’t mind feminine pronouns, because I’m incredibly cis-passing and most people will assume “she”, plus I can live with being labelled female if it’s a binary choice, but I see myself more as a person than a gender, so I love that neutral pronouns are being used so much more now.

FWIW, I considered whether or not I was trans for a hot minute when I was a younger teen, because I used to love passing as a boy when I was a kid (until puberty at nine. Boo.), but for me it was the difference in how I was treated when I passed as male that mattered. It was the difference between “Oh, isn’t he confident and intelligent?” and “Hello, sweetie, don’t you look pretty today?” that affected me, not a real sense of dysphoria, so I decided the problem wasn’t really in how I presented, but in society itself. I have yet to really find a satisfying way of rectifying that, but I think we’re all making progress as a society. It’s very slow progress, sadly.   

48. Favorite TV Show: I don’t watch that many series, but Star Trek (especially TOS and DS9), X-Files (S1/S2), Game of Thrones, old mystery adaptations (all the Agatha Christie ever), Stranger Things, Better Call Saul, Breaking Bad… can’t think of anything else right now, but there are some. 49. Tattoos: One black and grey dotwork spiral goddess on my arm, next one coming soon (watch this space, now I’ve found an artist!) 50. Right or left hand: Ambidextrous. Yes, I can write with both hands. Sometimes, I switch in the middle of the sentence. No, it doesn’t look the same. I can also operate light switches with my toes from a standing position.  51. Surgery: I fucked up my ulnar nerve a couple of years ago by blacking out and falling on some stairs. It was melodramatic, and I lost the use of my left hand. Had surgery to correct it. I was awake but a bit sedated, and spent most of the time talking to the cute anaesthetist about chastity cages. Because... sedated? Yes. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it. Sadly, he did not call, though I’m pretty sure he did a lot of googling when he got home that night.  52. Hair dyed in different color: Always, since I discovered Olaplex, which means I can actually bleach my hair without it completely frying. Most recently, I’ve had a mermaid fantasy in turquoise, green, and purple, but it’s faded a lot. Not sure what I’ll do next. Maybe orange, or neon yellow again. 53. Sport: I can’t do much without turning blue and blacking out, but I’ve always enjoyed tennis, badminton, swimming, and equestrian stuff. Is hiking a sport? Hiking’s fun.  54. Do you use sarcasm a lot: Um... 

55. Vacation: Last one was to see my partner; next one will be too. So, the woods of NEPA. Hiking out with some granola and my favourite human, and spending a few days playing with shelter pitbulls. <3 Otherwise, I’ve never really been on holiday. I went on a school trip to Germany once where I nearly got arrested and, when I was seven, I went to Malta and there was a hurricane. I remember wedging wet towels into the window frames and hoping we didn’t die, because we were on the twelfth floor and there was nowhere else to go. 

I did go to Norfolk with my mother for four days after her breast cancer diagnosis. Macmillan, a cancer charity that is very worthy of support, granted her a short break. There was a lot of playing dominos and trying to convince her she wasn’t actively dying at that precise moment.

56. Pair of trainers: Converse. All the ratty old Converse low tops in the world. 

MORE GENERAL:

57. Eating: I have the house to myself right now. It’s awesome. I’m celebrating with homemade shiitake tofu stir fry, wontons, vegetable udon… and doughnuts. Not in the same bowl, though. 58. Drinking: Rum. 

59. I’m about to: Finish a short story, close out an editing project, format a print galley (again. Goddamnit, Adobe.), and try to finalise the running order of a poetry collection. Maybe send some emails, maybe eat the rest of those wontons.   61. Waiting for: The dizziness to go away, usually. 62. Want: The time, space, peace and quiet to focus on my work, and my health to cooperate long enough for that to happen. 63. Get married: As soon as possible, which basically means when we can afford it, because immigration, legal wrangling, and a ton of other bullshit. It’s a headache, but if there weren’t so many technical hurdles it would already be done.  64. Career: I write and make stuff. I’m doing it under a new name now, which is daunting, because it means starting over again, but I’ve spent the past few years doing a lot of genre fiction and being told my original work is “too original”… but I’m ready to say “fuck you” to that and see what I can carve out for myself. Come on, internet: don’t prove me wrong, ‘k? 65. Hugs or kisses: Ooh, tough. Yes? I guess hugs if I have to pick.   66. Lips or eyes: Eyes. 67. Shorter or taller: I honestly don’t care, though I do very much enjoy short subs. Pocket rockets are adorable. 68. Older or younger: It really doesn’t matter. 70. Nice arms or nice stomach: Arms, I guess? Doesn’t really matter. It’s all pretty to look at, but who really cares? Arms are best for hugs. 71. Sensitive or loud: Sensitive. I don’t like too loud. 72. Hook up or relationship: Define the terms, yo. I’d say relationship, but the definition of “relationship” can be open to numerous things. 73. Troublemaker or hesitant: Um… possibly a bit of both, but more hesitant, probably.

HAVE YOU EVER:

74. Kissed a stranger: No. 75. Drank hard liquor: Yup.

76. Lost glasses/contact lenses: I once dropped a contact lens down the back of a gas fire and spent three hours getting it out with Vaseline on a paperclip. My vision is awful and I wore very expensive gas permeable lenses at the time. 77. Turned someone down: Yup. 78. Sex on the first date: Nothing wrong with it (and nothing wrong with sex being the date), but it’s not for me. 79. Broken someone’s heart: So they said. 80. Had your heart broken: Yes, but not how you might assume. 81. Been arrested: Nope. 82. Cried when someone died: Yep. 83. Fallen for a friend: A couple of times, with varying degrees of success.

DO YOU BELIEVE IN:

84. Yourself: I try to, because few other people often do. (*the world’s tiniest violin plays*) 85. Miracles: Yes, sometimes in the form of coincidences, surprises, or the results of hard work. I believe in inverse miracles, too, when things go catastrophically wrong for no apparent reason. Or, as we call it at my house, Tuesday. 86. Love at first sight: Yes, in a way. Potential for love at first sight, I guess? I’ve usually found I know the moment I meet someone whether that’s a thing that’s going to happen or not. 87. Santa Claus: YES, DAMN IT. Okay, maybe not a literal dude in a red suit, but as a personification of the generous spirit of Non-Denominational-Winter-Solstice-and-Festival-of-Lights, he works. (I’m an eclectic neo-pagan/hedgewitch, but my most loved time of year is the whole October-February period, so I start celebrating Yule/Christmas around December 1st and don’t stop until Twelfth Night. I will take ALL of your symbolism, ALL your traditions, and – most importantly – ALL your festive foods and embrace them. In my belly. Thank you.)

88. Kiss on the first date: Probably. Unless it’s a baaaaad first date. 89. Angels: Again, not so much the literal sense, but it’d be nice to think there are positive presences looking out for us. I’d be very concerned about the serpent-like pillars of fire, though.  

OTHER:

90. Current best friends name: Aside from my dog, that’s my partner but they don’t like their details shared, so SHHHH IT’S A SECRET. 91. Eye color: grey-blue-thing 92. Favorite movie: You can’t just ask a person that at the end of the thing like it’s a simple question…! So. Many. Movies. Depends on the genre. The Blues Brothers, Priscilla: Queen of the Desert, Gattaca, Silence of the Lambs, Re-Animator, Die Hard, Stand By Me, Sleepaway Camp, Alien, Lady in a Cage, Rosencrantz & Guildenstern Are Dead, TRHPS, The Great Escape… those are movies I can watch a billion times (and have done). Honorable mentions, depending on my mood, go to things like Basket Case, Caramel, An American Werewolf in London, Exterminating Angel, Secretary, Gran Torino… I could have done 92 questions just on the most popularist movies I like!

tagging: I’ve been away for a few days and I don’t wanna tag people who’ve already done it, so if you’re reading this and want to do it, consider yourself tagged! <3