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#i have autism if you couldn't tell
mercyluvsyouuu · 6 months
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I love having a chance to be abnormal on the internet. My brother follows me on discord, and I don't use tiktok anymore so that's out the window. But I'm so glad only my friends/boyfriend follow me on here coz I can be like. "I'm sooooo in love with [insert AI from piece of media here] and also I wanna be a robot and ykw fuck it I am a robot. I use xenogenders and also I'm objectum!1!1!2! [Enter 8163827 pictures of Fictional Character Of The Month]" and all my mutuals will be like. Okay 👍. If my family saw this, however, I would never hear the end of it
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thatonenonbinaryyy · 8 days
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Ermmm, uhhhhhhh, I made this. Randomly. On MS paint. Because I unlocked a hyperfixation on Bendy and the Ink Machine again after 7 years. And I was bored so i drew this quickly.
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steakout-05 · 26 days
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i was ranting to myself in a really disorganised fashion just now about how Barry has ADHD and like. dude. he absolutely has it. there's no way he doesn't. i myself am an undiagnosed ADHDer and i see so many traits in Barry. like.
in the rock opera 'The Very Last Minute', Barry spends the entirety of it procrastinating on training for the monster apocalypse and literally having almost every trait of ADHD ever. like when i watch this video and see Barry legitimately trying to do what he needs to but repeatedly getting stuck in a loop of jumping from task to task and struggling at actually get started on The Big Task™, i see me. like. that is me.
Barry tries to train. he really does. he really does try to take a crack at it, but he just can't focus on it. he just keeps getting distracted by it over and over and avoiding what he needs to do with other little tasks to keep him occupied at every single moment. and like he knows he really needs to do it. he knows that it's super important that he gets started on it as soon as he can. in fact, there are several lyrics to this effect: "Gotta keep focused, gotta keep training, but I just can't seem to stop procrastinating" and "I should probably stop working on this rocking theme song" are a couple that come to mind. but for whatever reason, he just can't focus on it properly and it ends up with him looking like he's "lazy" or "not putting in the effort". like, you see him get exhausted by doing a single skiprope jump, and that is how i feel whenever i try to do a big task when i'm not ready for it or focused at all. it's really really heard to focus on something that seems so big and overwhelming when you have ADHD, so you often kind of try to avoid it and ignore it because it's super daunting by doing smaller tasks. the difference between executive dysfunction and perceived laziness is that if you were being lazy, you wouldn't care and would likely be having a great time slacking off, even when you are reminded of the task at hand. but with executive dysfunction, you can forget about it for a while, but deep inside you likely still care and know you NEED to get the task done soon, and when you're eventually reminded or suddenly remember, you feel a crushing sense of dread. at least, that's how it is for me. and all the excessive task switching and getting everything else done except The Big Task™ you need to get done the most? i do that! i do that!!!
Barry literally does the ADHD thing where he sets an alarm that tells him to do what he needs to do, but the thing is that he was already doing something else on his phone beforehand and presumably forgot about the alarm, so when the alarm goes off, he just feels like he suddenly can't and that it's way too daunting to actually start because it feels like an intrusion. like. that's the ADHD thing!!! he's doing it!!!! he's doing the ADHD thing!!!!! his executives are NOT functioning!!!!!!
Barry also shows a lot of ADHD traits in 'Rainbow Barry' as well, as they're the most prominent in that specific short. in fact, he shows literally every single inattentive trait in all of the shorts together. impulsiveness, distractibility, impatience, forgetfulness, commitment issues, not following instructions properly, he's even got the emotional problems that come with it like being easily angered and frustrated. he EVEN shows the same traits in the JJ2 event dialogues!!! like!!!! look at the dialogues on the JJ wiki and tell me he isn't having ADHD traits!!!!! bro is clearly showing each individual ADHD symptom in everything he's in and either no one is noticing it or no one is talking about it and i'm just SO obsessed with this headcanon/theory of mine. Barry Steakfries is an undiagnosed ADHDer and nobody can convince me otherwise
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woodenela · 4 months
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Started playing Potionomics💕
The music is SO GOOD and the characters all have really fun designs~ You can also romance people in it so, Corsac, get ready to get your butt touched first ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) Mint & Quinn, you're up next. Kinda bummed big asshole shark guy can't be smooched but oh well.
I fucking love the little slimes you can buy, they're so baby 😭💕 They even make little "ahhh" sounds when they open their mouths for feeding time, I'm aksbskajshjas ;_;
That being said, I'm so bad at this game😂 I kept losing and losing in the beginning until something just clicked in my brain, I don't know. I'm not sure I'm gonna be able to win the last competition in game but at least I'm having fun :'D
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whining-ylthin · 6 months
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Chains of Harrow may as well drop all pretenses and call me the R-slur.
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andthebeanstalk · 2 years
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Every few hours or so, I see something that makes me feel aggressively in love with autistic people as a whole and I just have to somehow deal with that and then like, remember I made tea.
I'll see posts from strangers that I never intend to follow up on or dig deeper into, and usually it's just, like, the simple things, like... bro, did you just see a photo of a train and then identify the exact make and model of that train down to the smallest possible manufacturing detail for no other reason than you could and you wanted to, bro??
I am in love with you, bro. I am kissing you on the mouth. I am picking you up by the waist and twirling you. I am serving you warm fresh butternut squash bisque on a crisp fall day in our backyard. I am cherishing you always, you beautiful son of a bitch. You legend. You fucking precious sunbeam of human life who deserved and deserves the best in this unnaturally cruel and dark world.
I am holding your hand through the years, bro. I am cradling your soul in mine through the long long storm until we've finally made it somewhere soft.
I will make this world soft for you. I will start with myself.
Your face is aging and yet you grow more beautiful each year. You give off your own light. Did you know that? It doesn't hurt my eyes at all. It is warm. I am proud. Unspeakably proud. The light on its own was always enough.
I watch every evening as the gentle sunset reflects its soft gold into your eyes. It never gets old.
I long for nothing more than to see you alive and at peace.
This is a thing I could never regret fighting for.
Oh my god I made tea
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chicago-geniza · 2 years
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Hey @horrid-little-pedant I can make you a Boy Scouts/international Scouting movement imperialism/colonialism/not-so-crypto-fascism syllabus if you’d like but for a first tantalizing taste here is:
Fig 1) Robert Baden-Powell, founder of the Boy Scouts and the Scouting movement, on the swastika symbol, from his 1917 sequel to the classic manual Scouting For Boys, entitled Young Knights of The Empire. Its companion book, for Girl Guides/Girl Scouts, authored by his sister Agnes, was called How Girls Can Help Build Up the Empire. The Baden-Powell family, prominent British military aristocrats, were instrumental in the British colonial expansion re: South Africa. Baden-Powell’s inspiration for the Boy Scouts was the Mafeking Cadet Corps, a group of child soldiers formed by Lord Edward Cecil shortly before the Siege of Mafeking that secured Robert’s place in annals of imperial military history. His niece Betty later became--I am choking and wheezing and coughing up a hairball getting this phrase out--Scoutmaster for the. Girl Guides of North Rhodesia. Do not even get me STARTED on, uh. The Peace Light of Bethlehem (tl;dr it’s a program inaugurated in Austria circa 1986 nominally to help ~handicapped children, but of course. In 2005. The International Commissioner of Austria symbolically passed the Peace Light to a delegation of Scouts and Guides from the Palestinian National Authority, comma, just after the Oslo Accords. And then in 2007 a delegation of Guides and Scouts from Austria, Germany, France, Jordan, Israel, and the PNA--by the way, all but Jordan and Israel are part of the Catholic international Scouting branch that generally, depending on region, ‘pledges allegiance’ to “[country], God, Church, and Christian Europe”--they symbolically lit the ~*~Peace Light together. In. Bethlehem. Scouting is the most fucked-up Bad Internationalism movement in the world.)
Fig 2) The Rodlo symbol was designed by a woman who was part of the Polish minority population in Germany, she went to a Sokol (also Scouting!!!) gymnasium, she got a scholarship to study with Wladyslaw Skyoczylas and other modernist naive folk-revival painters at the school of fine arts in Warsaw, she survived the war, she got into this bizarre movement of neo-pagan anti-clerical pan-Slavist ‘nationalism’ that confirms every single thing I said in my undergrad thesis, she wants to take these symbols back from Hitler and stress the uniqueness of the Polish-German border regions that are neither like, fashy Catholic nationalist Poland nor fashy-flavor Germany, unfortunately that’s not how history or visual semantics work. She says it’s ‘rod’ plus ‘godlo’ (pretend it’s a liquid l) but it’s rodnoverie, we know what you’re about, Joasia--or rather, if you have to give a paragraph-long disclaimer every time you present your lovingly-rendered symbol, you gotta just let it go once it reaches critical mass and recognize that that your defensive disclaimers come across as “my t-shirt is raising a lot of questions that are answered by the shirt.” Anyway. This Harcerstwo troupe named after...the Harcerstwo movement that became a WWII paramilitary and subsequently Catholic anticommunist movement adopted it as their symbol. They’re from a small town in the Katowice region and they are. Well. If you don’t want everyone to think you’re fascists then maybe don’t be a paramilitary organization with a Hitler Youth lite flag (if you put the Rodlo on the Polish flag...it’s...it scans as the swastika on the...they know! They’re not oblivious, they do 500 WWII memorial actions per year!). And don’t have your scouts swear fealty in military fatigues while doing the seig heil to the Slavic Hitlerjugend flag in the woods. Ya dig. Their website is like “why are our enrollments declining :(” 
idk man maybe your town’s teens want to smoke weed under the bridge and not be put through boot camp after school 
#NISHT REBAGELN#i have so much autism about scouting and it is extremely embarrassing but if  you have questions about it. i have Answers#also did you know the UU church got in a huge fight with boy scouts of america#and boy scouts of america got in a huge fight with baden-powell about being allowed to say god#i do not need to explain the context of the PNA & the oslo accords for tumblr user horrid-little-pedant but can if other people are not awar#*aware. Scouting: Bad Internationalism#OH. wanna hear about the officially recognized Boy Scouts Displaced Persons DIvision after WWII dissolved c. 1950#or Mury: Harcerki Troupe of Ravensbruck#did you know krupskaya once used komsomol and 'boyskautizm' as synonyms and that#ok i got distracted but again. rudyard kipling. he just tweeted it out. there are also 800000 examples in this book about Helping Police#and how scouts are like bees: serve their Queen & DISPOSE OF THE UNEMPLOYED#also baden-powell's sister agnes was great friends with marconi you know the long-distance radio transmission inventor who#joined the italian fascist party in 1923 like years before mussolini came to power and#used his authority as director of the science institute to mark all jewish applicants' papers with an E (italian word for jew starts with E)#& none were admitted during his tenure. before this became state policy & before this pressure was even. you know. subtly dispersed by#mussolini. just of his own initiative!#he has so many quotes praising fascism i couldn't fit them in one document#the british monarchy & aristocracy will see continental european fascism and especially german & go 'Tell Me More...'#the polish nobility AND endecja will see various permutations of fascism & say 'tell me more...' for different reasons#the polish intelligentsia will see ITALIAN fascism & say 'tell me more [eyes emoji] while condemning german fascism bc one has#better aesthetics#meanwhile stefania zahorska & bruno schulz are having stress-induced heart disease#pilsudski wants to be england so bad it makes him look stupid. & dmowski hates england & germany on paper but also#wants to be them so bad it makes them look stupid if he can do it with the slavophile side of the slavophile vs. westernizer debate#comma american industry and isolationism comma good old WWI 'ethnographic borders' comma#and solve The Jewish Question (threat)
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theinfinitedivides · 1 year
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i'm sorry but. ykw the next time i hear someone tell me that i have ADHD and (suspected) autism bc i have low emotional intelligence + all i need to do to get rid of my additional (possibly) EDS-induced joint pain is to think happy thoughts and take zinc supplements. istfg i will smash their kneecaps with a spike-ended baseball bat and put them outside in the rain. naked, and without painkillers. how's that for happy thoughts
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mercyluvsyouuu · 10 months
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This is so dumb but this is MY tumblr blog and I'll YELL about stuff ALL I WANT. So rant under the cut
I FUCKING LOVE VIDEO GAMES!11!1!111!!!! LIKE. SO SO SO SO MUCH!!!! MY SIBLINGS AND FAMILY PROBABLY THINK IM SO WEIRD FOR IT SINCE ITS LITERALLY THE ONLY THING I TALK ABT BUT. I CANT HELP IT!!!11 HOW COULD ANYONE DISLIKE VIDEO GAMES??? it's a look into the mind of whoever made it!! They're works of art!! Just like paintings or music or books or anything else!! After you finish a game you think to yourself "I view the world a little differently now", and that's not easy to come by!! I would love to make video games myself but I don't think I have what it takes.... I just love love love playing games and experiencing what they have to offer!!! They've been such a big part of my life since like.. forever!! One of my first memories is literally playing Kirby on my old Wii.. they've had such an impact on me, and I never ever wanna stop experiencing and loving them!! I'm probably taking myself too seriously but I can't help it!!! I just love video games so so so much!!!
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terrorbirb · 1 year
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Me at work every week: "sorry I have dyslexia, could you tell me how these numbers are different?" "Sorry I have dyslexia, could you send that to me in an email?" "Sorry I have dyslexia -"
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wolfieisacat · 5 months
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He could tell she hadn't slept. For starters, she was almost never awake before he was, and when she was, she would lay in bed admiring his face. So Lainey not only being awake, but not in bed in the morning was enough.
There was also the fact that she couldn't stop twitching. That was another dead giveaway for Simon. So he did what he would do when he'd catch her trying to pull a needless all-nighter. He walked up to her, threw her over his shoulder, and brought her to bed. Everything else could wait, he wouldn't let his girl be a jittery, unstable mess the entire day.
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weird-and-unwell · 4 months
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“Autism isn’t a disability”, “it’s just a difference”.
I am of lower support needs. I hold down a (part time) job. I have travelled around my home country. I live alone.
At work they complain about my speech. I’m too quiet, they say, “barely audible” is the words used at my autism assessment. My voice is all monotone, and it needs to be more expressive. I get this complaint every week for a year straight, until my manager gives up. I don’t attend trainings because I forget and find it overwhelming anyways. My coworkers form friendships, and I watch them talk, wondering how they make it look so easy. I get a new manager, I tell her I find the work socials too overwhelming to attend. She tells me I can just say I don’t want to come. I don’t know how to tell her that I desperately want to, to be like the rest of my coworkers, instead of constantly being the one sat on the sidelines.
I come home, and I can hear my neighbours again. The niggling background noise messes with my head, and I meltdown; I throw myself on the floor, I hit my head on the ground repeatedly as I scream and cry, tear out my hair and scratch my arms and face. When I complain, people tell me that I just have to accept that neighbours make noise, that I should just ignore it, or block it out. I am the problem, the one overreacting. I put in earplugs and it hurts and I'm crying again. I wear headphones but I can't handle the noise for that long.
I have reminders set for everything. Every chore, no matter how big or small. My phone beeps at me, reminding me that I need to wash the dishes. If I don't go now, then tick the little box on my phone to say I did it, it won't get done. My home is almost always a mess despite this. It's not just chores either. I won't think to wash, dress myself, brush my teeth or hair, without those reminders. And unless someone actively prompts me to do so, I will do those tasks "wrong". I haven't changed my underwear in a month, and I'm currently aware that's a problem, but within the hour I'm going to forget all over again until I'm next prompted.
I can't sleep without medication - it's not unusual for autistic people to have messed up circadian rhythms. Without my medication it's hard to even tell when I'm awake and when I'm asleep. When I was younger and at school I slept through so many lessons, and when I have my mandatory breaks from my sleep meds I sleep through every alarm I set. I want to work full time some day, and I'm terrified of what my sleep issue will mean for me then.
I don't travel independently. I don't travel anywhere alone, always with someone or to someone. If to someone, I have assistance the whole way. I find it embarrassing sometimes. Yes, I have a job that requires a certain level of intelligence. No, I cannot get on a train by myself. If I am not shown To The Train, To My Seat, I will be unable to travel.
Last time I travelled, I was left alone at the station for ten minutes. I stayed rigid and sobbed the whole time. I was overwhelmed. It was too loud, I didn't know where I was or where I was meant to be going, and until the assistance person came back I couldn't do anything because for some reason I cannot understand it.
I spend a lot of time trying to explain to people that despite my relative competence, I am unable to do many things. Why can I understand high level maths but not how to get on a damn train? No fucking idea.
"Autism isn't a disability" most severely affects those with higher support needs, and this is absolutely not to take away from them. But for fucks sake, autism is disabling.
Maybe you personally are extremely lucky and just find you're a little "socially awkward", or just find some textures painful or nauseating. Maybe you would be fine with just a couple of adjustments.
But for a lot of us, even lower support needs autistics, it doesn't work like that. I will never sleep properly without medication. I still have the self-harming type of meltdowns as an adult, over things that are deemed as being "just part of life". I live alone but have daily visits from family - if I'm left fully alone I forget all the little daily things one is "meant" to do. I had speech therapy as a child to get me to the "barely audible" "mostly correct" speech. I don't mask, I'm not really sure how I would to begin with.
I'm not unhappy with being autistic. It's just who I am. Life would be easier if I were neurotypical, but I also wouldn't be me. I just wish those luckier than me could...stop saying it's all chill and not at all a disability.
Because yes, socially, I am "awkward". I obviously don't make eye contact - I stare down and to the side of whoever I speak to. People think it's weird or creepy or a sign of disinterest. My autism assessor wrote down about how I often use words and phrases that don't make sense to others, even though they make perfect sense to me. In my daily life this means I'm frequently misunderstood, and have to try explain what I mean, when what I mean is exactly what I said, and the true issue is that what I mean just doesn't make sense to others. I gesture, at times, but again, my gestures apparently don't make sense in relation to what I'm saying. I take things literally, I have almost no filter, and I can't explain how I go from topic to topic.
And yes, I do have sensory problems. Sometimes people, including others with sensory problems, tell me that "sometimes sensory issues have to be tolerated", and I wonder what they think of as being sensory issues. I'm sure they do struggle, but if I say I can't handle a touch, I mean you will need to forcefully hold it against me for me to touch it more than a second and it will make me meltdown. If I say "I can't eat that", I mean that I am unable to swallow it, that I will gag and choke and inevitably spit it back out, as much as I try. If I say I can't handle a noise, I mean I'm so close to a meltdown and my meltdowns are a problem for everyone around me.
But yes. Autism. Not a disability. Just a fun quirky difference.
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emo-batboy · 7 months
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Things Battinson Totally Did During His First Year of University
Using Unhinged or Odd Things I Also Did as a College Freshman :D
Note: for this list, let’s believe Bruce was living in an (admittedly expensive and swanky) dorm because it is required for first-years, especially those entering at a young age, and Alfred told him he needed to make friends. Also yes I did every single thing on this list. I never claimed to be a role model
Bruce, to his TA: I’m so sorry I’m late to class. I gave blood a few hours ago and almost fainted on the way here, but it won’t happen again.
Signs up for a class called “Age of Dinosaurs” despite it not being required whatsoever and proceeds to work his entire schedule around it
Bruce: Your mental health is super important. If you think you should see the on-campus therapist, go see them. Friend: Fine. I’ll sign up for therapy if you sign up for therapy too. Bruce: Hold on-
Finds a loophole in his housing contract that allows him to get a pet frog, calls him kermit :)
Gets a second frog because Kermit was lonely, names it Constantine after Muppets Most Wanted, then realizes that they’re gay for each other. Wonders if the rainbow-colored rocks he got them triggered anything
Swings dramatically between calling Alfred every single day and ghosting him for weeks, cries when he realizes what he did
“Accidentally” joins the student body council, doesn’t know what he’s doing, gets re-elected anyway
Molds a dragon out of Laffy Taffy instead of doing his work
Bruce: *joins Honors, gets all A’s, takes the max amount of classes, has several minors, overachieves* Also Bruce: I’m a failure.
Breaks into a building after hours to study because NO ONE KNOWS HOW TO SHUT THE FUCK UP AT THE LIBRARY
Bruce: I will not get seasonal depression this year. Bruce: *gets real and seasonal depression that year*
Meticulously schedules his day with a color-coded planner because if he sits down for too long, the thoughts will consume him
Gives a presentation to his rhetoric class on how much he likes Spider-Man: Into the Spiderverse (it is 20 minutes long)
Successfully allocates funding from the student body council to pay for free feminine products in the dorms OUT OF SPITE because someone said it couldn't be done. fuck you, Andrew
Bruce: It is not an all-nighter if I go to sleep before my first class. Friend: It is 7:30am, the sun is in the sky, and your first class is at 12:30. Bruce: But I am getting sleep.
Refuses to go anywhere without his backpack because what if he needs three notebooks at once
Loses over 20 pounds because ✨stress✨ and scares the shit out of Alfred when he comes home for Thanksgiving
Argues with his TA over the one (1) question he got wrong on his Dinosaur exam
Bruce, calling Alfred: Hello father figure. How do I do taxes? Do I have to do them myself? Also, I think I’m having a panic attack.
Joins in on a charity arts-and-crafts project that gives kids books with matching activities made by volunteers, proceeds to commandeer the project because “it’s not color-blind friendly” and rewrites the instructions for everyone
Makes a murder wall
Goes to one (1) sports game and proceeds to leave in the first ten minutes because it’s way too loud wtf is wrong with people
Professor, addressing the lecture hall: I dare you to write an essay about these two sentences. Bruce: *writes an essay about six words, gets a 100, never even read the book*
Crawls into the ceiling for some alone time
Ghosts someone after a date because he’s too scared to tell them he didn’t know it was a date in the first place and now he feels bad
Classmate: How tf does he walk across campus that fast? I go in the same direction he does on my bike, and he’s always ahead of me. Bruce: *is gay sprinting to Dinosaur class*
Refuses to let others use his Favorite Pen TM
Constantly gets mistaken for a Grad Student because he is “so wise and mature” (bestie, that’s the autism)
Alfred: *casually mentions he got into a car accident through text* Bruce: *replies with a meme while hyperventilating because he doesn’t know what to do with that information??!*
Wears a suit to one of his finals
Regularly eats non-organic food for the first time in his life, proceeds to learn about several allergies Alfred forgot to mention he has
Writes “What is a Hot Pocket?” in calligraphy and proceeds to laugh his ass off alone in his dorm because he is so exhausted he’s reached the point of delusion
Locks himself out of his dorm right before class, frantically asks the floor group chat if someone can help, proceeds to tell the nice gay man on the floor who saved him “I love you” because his social skills have hit rock bottom
Makes a little music album display next to his desk for his favorite band (Nirvana) His friends call it a shrine, and they are technically correct
Has a blacklist of people he refuses to interact with because Reasons
Counselor: What do you want to do when you graduate? Bruce: *gestures vaguely*
Refuses to take the bus because there are people in there and he doesn’t like those
Loses one of his frogs, how tf did he do that, they’re fully aquatic, oh fuck, this is probably why they got rid of that loophole a year later because unbeknownst to Bruce, he accidentally started a frog revolution in the dorms, btw he SWEARS he did not mean to do that
Has two trash cans in his room: one for the Good Garbage, and one for the Bad Garbage. Only Bruce knows which is which
Bruce: *writes a creative piece about a ship’s final thoughts as it sinks, bringing its passengers down with it* TA: Absolutely lovely, Bruce, but are you okay?
Goes on Night Walks, keeps himself safe by maintaining a level 12 resting bitch face at all times
Earns the nickname “8th floor cryptid” after pacing the halls at 3am when it’s too cold for Night Walks (honestly tho how tf didn’t he get the nickname earlier?)
Bruce: Do you think a depressed person could do this? Bruce: *has a manic episode*
Okay that's all love you BYE
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lovelypastelroses · 2 years
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Having your main and most successful form of connection with people be through online really sucks when you want to do like, physical stuff
Especially you get to the point where you can meet them, but you realize you can visit every half a year if that, and 6 months is so long
And then you find it hard to adjust being alone, because your brain now Knows that you Can get this thing, that it's not just some far off imaginary concept that lucky people may have
It really sucks too when you find out you work better with someone, especially with this person you can rarely see
And you get so lonely and touch starved that sometimes the only way you can sleep is if you convince yourself you'll wake up next to someone you love, and you'll conquer the day together, and it'll be okay
And of course you won't, and it only gets worse, and you think about calling old highschool friends who weren't the best people but at least it was Something, you wonder if your standards are too high now
You wonder why you didn't go to college, forgetting the reasons why you couldn't, you wonder why you can't seem to make friends and never have (forgetting that the area you're in has a majority of people who aren't like you and wouldn't understand), you wonder if your whole life will just be spent chasing people around the world and being Just out of reach from real connection
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angel-of-the-moons · 6 months
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Small Surprises
Moon Knight System (Marc/Jake/Steven) x Single Mother!Reader
TW/CW: Some mentions of past childhood abuse, cheating partner, mostly fluff
A/N: Like the Symbrock one I did, this one will be one whole fic with a few times skips here and there! This fic will also explore a bit more into the autistic side of Steven as a character, based off my own experiences with my autism, tics, habits etc! Also, once again, featuring snippets of the hobby headcanons done by @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction! (I love those headcanons so much they are canon as far as I'm concerned asdfghjkl)
Taglist: @chrishy973 @katitakenway @queerponcho
EDIT: Part 2 is out now!!! Read it here!
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Another droll day at the museum, the same disinterested customers and more nagging from Donna. Honestly, Steven was lucky he got his job back at the museum--though he only surmised it was due to the fact nobody else wanted to work for Donna--but he was grateful for the extra income.
And it definitely helped provide a distraction from Jake's night activities for Khonshu, as well as Marc's from time to time.
But of course, even though it provided a distraction, it wasn't much of one.
That is... until the day a poofy mop of curls bounced into the gift shop, eagerly looking at the wares within with big sparkling eyes. The child couldn't have been older than four--maybe five--as she happily looked at the myriad of items available.
Contrasting to most of the little girls he's seen come in (which, were admittedly few) she didn't immediately run over to the cheap horse figures with the chariots or even the cat plushies.
She went right for things like the plushie scarabs, the statues...
This of course had Donna proverbially chewing her nails as she watched the unaccompanied minor scamper about the gift shop.
"I'm going back to do inventory," She warned Steven. "If she breaks anything, it's coming out of your pay, Stevie."
Steven ground his teeth when she called him that, and waited for her to walk away before muttering. "What little you do pay me, you bloody old biddy."
Steven fixed his name tag and walked up to the little girl, crouching next to her as her chubby little face scrunched in what appeared to be distaste.
"Hey there, poppet. What's got you upset, eh?" He asked, his big brown eyes meeting hers as she crossed her arms with a huff.
"They don't look right!" She complained.
"Oh? What doesn't look right?" Steven asked patiently, a warm smile on his face.
The child pointed to the small canvases and posters of the various Egyptian gods. Namely the ones of Bastet and Anubis, and in particular of the two, one of the canvases depicting Anubis surrounded by shrieking souls and flames.
He himself had raised a complaint with that depiction, as after his own time in the Egyptian afterlife (alongside Marc, and unbeknownst to them at the time, Jake) he knew the afterlife was not like that. While they hadn't met Anubis himself, they were guided and weighed by Taweret.
But he wholeheartedly agreed that the artwork of Anubis was entirely wrong, and frankly, offensive.
"'Nubis isn't like that." She said, stomping her little foot. "He's nice!"
Steven raised his eyebrows at her, tilting his head as some stray curls fell over his face. "Oh?" He asked. "Then tell me little one, how is Anubis?"
"He's--!" She scoffed, rolling her eyes in the typical fashion a child does when they feel like they're explaining something painfully obvious to an oblivious adult.
"He's a good dog-man." She says to him. "He doesn't mess with skulls n' stuffs! He's nice, he helps people who might get lost when they die."
'That's a hefty subject for a kid.' Marc's voice spoke.
"No kidding." Jake remarked. "Where are her parents?"
Steven meanwhile, was positively thrilled that one so young understood that Anubis, while being the god of death, was not evil. And... naturally this sent him into info-dump mode.
"Why, yes! Anubis is good." He held up a finger as the little girl looked at him, awe on her face that he understood what she was saying and was willing to actually talk about it.
"He guided souls once they left their earthly bodies." He explained, grabbing a small replica of an Egyptian temple front. "Once their hearts were weighed, if they were good, he would help guide them to the afterlife. If they were bad..."
"They got ate by the crocko-lion!" The girl finished with a gasp.
Steven suppressed the urge to laugh at how she described Ammit. Jake and Marc meanwhile, held no such compunction and were laughing their asses off.
"I like this kid." Jake said as his laughter died down.
"Yes! They did. But did you know they also had to be judged? Not just with the scales?" Steven grinned at her as she bounced on her heels, the palms of her hands rubbing on her coveralls as she listened.
"Now that subject is very lengthy...." Steven leaned over on the flats of his shoes and plucked a small book about the Egyptian afterlife and mythos and showed it to the little girl. The cover was emblazoned with raised gold print; with images of sarcophagi, and motifs scattered on the front and back.
"But it's always worth a good read." Steven continued. "Now, if you want to know someone else who sometimes assists those who've passed on?"
The little girl plucked the book out of Steven's arms, nodding, her eyes tracking the way his mouth and hair moved. Not once did she make eye contact, instead settling for staring at other features instead.
Steven could understand, sometimes looking into people's eyes was... oof. It was difficult and frankly sometimes it made him uncomfortable, made his palms itch and the hair on the back of his neck tickle.
He stood up, and walked to another shelf, the little girl trailing behind him, the book looking three sizes too large for her tiny body as her little light up sneakers squeaked on the waxed linoleum.
Steven reached down, then, and grabbed a plaster statuette of a familiar feminine shape sporting a hippo head and kneeled back down, showing it to her.
"This is Taweret." He beamed proudly.
"She's the nice hippo lady." The child peeped, staring at the statue with rapt attention.
"Yes! Yes, she is! Very nice." Steven chuckled. "But she's also the goddess of motherhood and children, did you know? She protects women when they have their babies, and helps them."
The little girl nodded, "Yeah, I read a thingy 'bout her! She's--"
"Victoria! Oh my god." A breathless voice called from the front of the shop.
The moment Steven lifted his gaze, he could feel his heart catch on his throat when he saw you. Even Marc and Jake went quiet as you approached.
You were wearing some faded-out jeans and a t-shirt with a faded band logo that hugged your figure very nicely. You had a backpack slung over your shoulders and the keychains dangling from it tinkled and clacked as you moved, rushing to scoop up your child.
Steven could easily see that Victoria got her looks from you, those gorgeous inquisitive eyes, her nose, hair texture...
Jake had to give him the mental equivalent of a slap to stop his gawking as he stood up awkwardly, wiping the hand not holding the statue on his jeans as he gave you what he hoped was a charming smile, but judging by your wariness, you obviously weren't thrilled at the sight of your daughter talking to a strange man.
Steven was about to speak up, but Victoria did so instead for him, not reading the tenseness in the situation.
"Steven's my friend!" She beamed, holding the book in her pudgy little fingers, showing you. "He knows about 'Gyptian stuff, too!"
Steven blinked, feeling a blush creep up on his cheeks as you looked at him, raised eyebrows. It took him a moment of awkward glancing away to realize Victoria knew his name because she read his name tag. He hadn't once said it to her. Hell, he only knew her name because you said it when you ran in!
"Ah... Yes. I work here, in the gift shop. Egyptology is a major... um." He struggled to find a word.
"Hyperfixation?" You sigh, the tension easing from your shoulders as you smile tiredly.
"Oh! Yes. I s'pose!" He said, blinking his big doe eyes at you.
"Yeah, Victoria is... well." You chuckle, propping the young child on your hip with practiced ease. "She's obsessed with the stuff! I swear, the stuff she can shove into her noggin with how much she knows of ancient Egypt, it feels like she was born in the wrong era, I'm telling you!"
Victoria smiled happily and snuggled into you, rubbing her cheek on the soft fabric of your shirt with a content hum, almost like a happy little cat.
You didn't pay any mind to her as she rubbed her face on you, instead conversing with the man in front of you.
"Ah... A little scholar to be, eh?" Steven laughed awkwardly.
"Hah, more like she already is one. With everything she knows, I swear she outpaces me in the IQ department." You sigh fondly, brushing a stray curl from your daughter's face.
Steven's eyes anxiously tracked your movements, how your fingers curled, the way your eyelashes brushed your cheeks when you blinked, the way your foot tapped on the floor...
"I'm surprised she talked to you. She's normally very introverted." You hum softly, raising those drop dead gorgeous eyes to lock with his before he awkwardly dropped his eyes to your lips whilst you spoke.
"But then again, if you started talking about this stuff with her, it's no surprise. I'm the only person she talks to about it because nobody else understands."
You noticed his Steven was looking anywhere but your eyes, and how he nervously licked at his lips, his fingers wrapped around the statuette in his hands tapping idly.
"Oh! She's a lovely little conversationalist. Rather well-knowledged as well!" Steven replied, looking at Victoria again, who grinned as she once again rubbed her face on your shirt.
"Honestly, she's more learned than half the adults who try to talk to me about Egypt." He huffed out a chuckle.
His eyes dropped to the picture of Anubis that initially offended the child. "We got into a little debate about how inaccurate those pieces of Anubis are."
"Oh, don't get her started on those inaccurate artworks... She despises them!" You laugh softly.
"Oh, I fully understand why! It's so offensive!" Steven gasped. "Especially to a culture! Anubis is not an evil god by any means!"
"Oh yeah, believe me... we watched a movie the other day and she had a meltdown because they made Anubis the bad guy. She was so distraught it took thirty minutes to calm her down." You smile with infinite patience at your little girl.
"Oh, poor little dear! But I can totally understand that." Steven smiled, finally locking eyes with you as he reached some level of professional comfort with you.
"Mommy, can I get em?" Victoria peeped, interrupting you before you could get another word out.
"Hm?" You hummed at her, raising an eyebrow.
"The book and hippo lady!" She replied, holding up the book.
"Hippo Lady?"
"Yeah!" She said, sounding a little exasperated, pointing to the statue Steven clutched in his hands. "Her! Tawar!"
"Taweret." Steven chuckled softly at her mispronunciation.
"Tawww--" Victoria frowned as she tried to get the word out. "Tawweret."
"Close 'nough. I'm sure she wouldn't mind." Steven smiled warmly, holding up the statuette.
"All right, all right." You laughed, following Steven to the counter so you could check out, having another nice chat about what he and Victoria discussed. He even tossed in a little keychain that held a preserved scarab beetle in epoxy, much to Victoria's delight!
What you didn't know as you left the shop, was how positively smitten he was with you already.
That was your first meeting with Steven Grant.
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A few weeks crawled by, and every other day you were at the museum, letting Victoria lead you by the hand as she animatedly discussed what every object or picture meant, and you struggled to keep up, making mental (and a few digital) notes on what she was talking about. Of course, she insisted that after every tour, you stopped to say hi to her new "bestest friend" Steven.
You were thrilled that you found someone who operated on the same wavelength as your daughter, knowing that it was hard for her to make connections with other children, let alone adults. But Steven and Victoria took to each other like ducks to water.
And hey, he seemed harmless enough. Cute, too, beneath that mop of curls. You even started researching more just to be able to tag into the conversations between your daughter and her unlikely friend.
Today, you were at the local grocer and Victoria decided that she wanted to walk with you instead of riding in the trolley on her tablet like she normally did. You were happy, but ensured she kept her noise cancelling headphones over her tiny ears to make sure she stayed comfortable.
You had picked up a pack of steaks to examine the cuts when Victoria slipped your hand free of hers and darted off, squealing, "Steven!"
You almost dropped the steaks when Victoria darted down the aisle and wrapped her arms around the legs of the man she ran towards.
One minute Marc was looking at a box of matzahs, the next, he had a child clinging to his legs.
His whole body froze as he looked down, immediately going rigid as the little girl looked up at him, babbling something he didn't quite understand because of how quickly she was speaking.
He did make out the name "Steven".
"Uh--" He said awkwardly.
"I'm so sorry!" You say, hastily bringing the trolley up to the two. "She just got excited to see you, and..."
Your brows furrowed as you looked at him. He looked like Steven Grant, but he didn't feel like Steven Grant. His normally messy curls were combed back neatly, his flannel hanging open with the sleeves rolled up and T-shirt untucked from his pants. His big brown eyes were wide, looking at you with a face that simply pleaded "Help me".
"Uh..."
"I'm... Marc." He said in an unmistakably American accent.
"Oh. Oh!" You lean down and scoop up Victoria, hastily plopping her in the trolley, willing yourself to ignore her little wobbling lip as you messily search up her favorite video to watch on her tablet to prevent the simmering meltdown you could see just beneath her surface.
"I'm... I'm sorry. You just look like someone we know from the museum, and..." You sigh, rubbing your hands together as you cringed.
"Steven, yeah..." Marc said, giving a stiff smile in return as he dropped the box of what looked like crackers into his basket looped over his elbow.
"You..."
'Play it cool, Marc...' Jake's voice softly warned.
"We're, uh, brothers. Triplets. All identical." He spat out with haste.
"Oh! Well... That's... That explains the looks, huh." You smile, hoping to ease the awkward tension. His explanation didn't sit well with you for some reason, as to why he suddenly blurted it all out. But you chocked it up to him trying to explain to avoid upsetting Victoria.
"But, yeah. Um... Your brother, Steven? He and Victoria are like, best friends now. She looks forward to seeing him whenever we're at the museum." You chuckle softly.
Marc's eyes soften as he smiles, giving Victoria a gentle look. "Yeah, uh, Steven's told me about her. She's a smart kid, huh?"
"Oh, yeah. A real genius." You smile at her as she starts tapping away at her tablet, selecting one of her drawing apps and beginning to scribble.
"Sometimes I can't keep up with her."
"Hey, that's good. She'll go places." Marc replied.
Your smile falters a bit. "Yeah, if people will give her a chance..." You mutter.
Marc was about to ask what she meant, but he kept his mouth shut, watching as Victoria was engrossed with her tablet, her little feet wiggling and tapping on the sides of the trolley as she moved her mouth silently, mouthing words to herself.
"She's... Eh." You rub the back of your neck. "She normally doesn't come to the store with me. She says she can hear the lights buzzing and it upsets her, which is why she has to wear her headphones. I mean I can't hear the lights or anything, but all I need to know is that she can..."
"Yeah, Steven is the same way sometimes. It makes him twitch so he has to wear headphones when we go shopping..." Marc said, frowning.
"Yeah. That's something I'm kind of amazed about. Victoria doesn't really have any friends outside of well, me... and your brother? Steven and her are just... man, they're like two peas in a pod!"
Marc stays quiet as you smile fondly at your child, and he notes the relief in your expression as you recount that your child was able to finally connect with someone. It warmed his heart to know that Steven was able to socialize with someone who shared the same mannerisms, even if she was just a kid.
His eyes flicked down to your hands as you put your hands on your hips, and noted the lack of wedding ring and a ring tan line.
'Focus, cabrón.' Jake snickered.
"She's autistic. It was a pain to get her diagnosed, but we managed. I could tell she was different. Namely how she would act with fabrics." You sigh.
Now that grabbed both Marc and Jake's attention. If Steven were aware and co-fronting, he was sure he would be rapt as well. Steven explained the fabric thing to hime a few times, but being in the same body it was still hard at times to understand that Marc or Jake could feel one thing but Steven could feel another.
"Uh... Fabrics? You'll have to forgive me, but..."
"Oh! It's a sensory thing." You explain, rolling your hand. "With her, it's fleece, or satin-like textures. They irritate her and make her fussy. As a baby I never understood why she flipped out when I would put her little socks on her until the doctor explained it when she was older. But for some people it's cotton, or microfiber... The way Victoria describes it is that it's, uh..."
"Scratchy." Marc murmurs.
"Exactly!" You snap your fingers.
"Yeah, Steven is the same way. Though he's not like that with satin, he usually prefers cotton--the super soft kind? Or silk." Marc nods, shoving one hand in his pocket.
"Yeah... It's thankfully easy to shop for her, she prefers cotton and soft microfiber. It's why she rubs her cheek on my shirts or pants. Some people mistake it for being affectionate--and don't get me wrong sometimes it is--but usually it's a grounding thing." You sigh softly. "It helps her calm down."
"Ah... Sounds hard. What about her dad? He know how to handle it?" Marc asked curiously.
He immediately felt bad when he saw how your expression fell, and you glared at the ground.
"He skipped out on us while I was pregnant. I caught him in our bed with someone I thought was my best friend the day I found out she was a girl." You spit, angry and full of venom.
Marc cringed. "God, your best friend? In your bed? That's a whole extra level of degeneracy..."
"I know! Ugh! I swear, if he wasn't stronger than me I would have stabbed him that day!" You groan.
Marc rocks his head back in shock at the admission. "You were gonna stab him?"
"When you're five months pregnant, hormonal, tired, and sore and walk in on your fiancee doing the deed in your own bed? Yeah, emotions get high." You run a hand through your hair, smirking as you looked back at him.
"Grabbed the knife right outta the block and lunged at him. Chased em both half naked out of my flat."
'Shit, I'd be in love. That sounds sexy as hell.' Marc could just imagine the grin that would be spread across Jake's face at that.
Marc laughed, unable to contain himself, both at the retelling of your story and Jake's remark.
'You got problems, Jake.' Marc shot back mentally.
'Pot, meet kettle...'
'Touché...'
"So it's safe to say, he's out of the picture, huh?" Marc says, his laughter dying down into a soft chuckle.
"Oh yeah. Had his parental rights severed, and kicked his sorry.... well. I tossed him out and told him that my "best friend" could deal with him and his lazy antics, considering I pay for the flat."
"Yikes. Sounds like a real dirt bag."
"Oh yeah, he was. I have no idea what I saw in him, to be honest... And knowing that Victoria isn't "normal" like other kids, I feel like he would treat her badly, or... hurt her." You say, shaking your head.
"Hey, if he shows up and does that just call me." Marc grunted. "I hate it when people do that crap to kids. I'll knock his teeth down his throat."
The words slipped out before he could stop them, and the weight of them almost made them feel oppressive as glimpses of his abusive childhood shone through. The memories of his mother swinging her arm down, the crack of the leather belt, the red, bloody welts in his skin...
'Ay, hermano. Come back, don't think about that.' Jake's voice said gently, urging that door in his mind shut. 'That's not your life, anymore.'
Marc blinked and looked back up at you, his eyes locking with yours. And the concern on your face... he felt so undeserving of it. He wasn't sure why, but...
"Ah... I mean... Let's just say I have experience with that sort of thing. So I'm..." He struggled.
"No, no, I get it. My dad was a piece of shhh..." You cringed as the word almost slipped from you, casting a short glance to Victoria, making sure she couldn't hear you. "Er. He was bad. So yeah, I totally get you."
"Oh... Sorry, people get weirded out when I..." He rubbed the back of his neck.
"Disassociate." You finish for him. "I used to do the same thing when it came to my dad. It gets easier once you're free of it, I promise."
The soft, sweet smile you give him was strong enough to make his heart jump into his throat.
'Wow...'
'Ask. Her. Out. Steven won't do it, so you do it!' Jake urged him.
Marc choked suddenly, coughing awkwardly to clear his throat at Jake's further commentary.
"You okay?" You ask him.
"Y-Yeah, I just... Uh..." He cringed again. "It's... allergies! I've been dealing with them since we dusted the flat, and... Yep. Allergies."
You chuckle softly at him as Victoria tugs on your sleeve and whispers in your ear.
"Oop, mama duty calls. It was nice meeting you, Marc." You grin, giving him a short handshake.
"Yeah... You too." Marc replied as you walked off, giving Victoria a wave as she peeked over your shoulder as you push the trolley away.
'Allergies? Smooth, Marc. Really smooth. How the hell did you ever bag Layla with romantic skills like that?' Jake sighed sarcastically.
'I swear Layla probably only married you for your dick, man. You're so BAD at romance.'
Marc knew Layla did love him, at one point but with all the drama of being Moon Knight, it quickly snuffed that relationship... They were still close of course, but they'd never open up to another intimate relationship again. Which was fine, none of them minded particularly.
Especially not now. Not now that there's a cute single mom with and adorably--scarily--smart little girl on her hip to occupy those thoughts.
And that... was your first time meeting Marc Spector.
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Now, meeting Jake was different. Completely different. You technically "met" Jake weeks after you met Marc and built a rapport with him.
One night, Jake was sitting in the window, munching on some saltines he'd spread with sunflower butter as he read some old knitting patterns in a book he'd picked up at a resale shop.
He thought he could knit something for both you and Victoria and have Steven give it to you, it would be a good way to start actually flirting, to hopefully open up that door for all of you.
But of course... well. He knew Steven was way too shy to ask you out on a date, and Marc was too chicken shit and awkward about the subject to bring it up himself.
And so, it fell upon Jake Lockley to find a way to get closer to you, two. He understood that many single mothers found it tricky to date, especially with a child like Victoria. It would require immense levels of trust to get past those walls you would have put up to protect both you and Victoria, especially after you'd told Marc about Victoria's biological father fucking your best friend the day of your ultrasound.
He could just imagine how your poor face fell when you closed your front door, hearing the ridiculously high-pitched, false moans and the squeaking of the mattress as that miserable excuse of a man was having his way with your supposed "best friend"...
All while your hands would have clutched the pictures of your unborn baby girl, tears bubbling up in your eyes as you screamed at them while they scrambled to cover their shame.
And then.... as you told Marc, you would have grabbed the knife and the rest was history; bidding goodbye to that cheating bastard and woman you once trusted.
You were strong, loving and oh so patient with your daughter and her needs. Jake found your whole being attractive, honestly. He hadn't seen you angry, but he just knew you were a badass if you wanted to be.
He chuckled as he picked up his knitting needles, and began to loop the soft, thick yarn through each line. He was sure to pick yarn that wouldn't upset Victoria and her sensory issues, so he picked the softest yarn he possibly could, selecting enough to make the both of you matching jumpers.
Victoria's would be a little big, to allow for comfort and her to grow into it as she wore it. He could just imagine how adorable she'd look with the sleeves hanging over her little hands, squirming and giggling as you two played together--
Jake's hands stopped knitting.
Shit. He had it down bad for you, too.
When he looked down, that's when he noticed the green laser pointed right at him...
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You were there, simply cleaning up the mess from dinner as Victoria happily colored on her dry erase board, drawing the shapes and hieroglyphs she saw in the book Steven selected for her.
She had been quiet and engrossed in her little art project for so long that you jumped and almost dropped a plate on the floor when she squealed loudly.
"Mommy, it's Steven! Or Mister Marc?"
"Huh? What?" You looked around your flat, for some reason your brain told you to look inside instead our our the window where her little finger tapped the glass excitedly.
"No, there!" She insisted. "Over there!"
You walk over to her and lean down, looking out the window.
And sure enough, across the street, in the building across from yours, an apartment had the curtains open with the lights on.
In one of the windows, at a desk, sat a man. The streets were close enough together that you could make out some details. The shadow of a mustache being the first thing you zeroed in on, and then the immaculately slicked-back hair.
He looked like he was... knitting? This man, who looked like Steven and Marc. Marc and Steven both mentioned on different occasions that they had a brother named Jake, maybe this was him?
And wow! So close by, too!
Victoria waved her arms, trying to get her attention, but the man was so absorbed in his task that he didn't notice her try to get his attention. When her little disappointed sniffles could be heard, you snap your fingers.
"I got an idea!" You say, dashing to the end table by the front door and rummaging through the various keychains you'd accumulated. It was a guilty habit of yours, you found.
But then you pluck up the laser toy and run back to the window. It takes shaking it once or twice for the green light to illuminate, but when it does, you shine it directly through the window and at the man's chest.
Then, he looked up.
You break out into a happy grin when he spots the two of you, and Victoria giggles with unabated glee as she waves some more, her whole tiny body moving with every shake of her overly excited hand.
You see the man smile back and he waves at the both of you.
"Hey, baby, why don't we use your board to say hi?" You suggest, rubbing her shoulders.
"Yeah!" She giggles, grabbing the board and erasing her painstakingly re-created drawings from the book, and messily scrawled the word:
Hi :)
The man laughed and looked around until he grabbed a notebook, scribbled something with a marker, and held it up for you two to see.
Hello
You chuckle as Victoria hands you the board, knowing that your writing is neater than hers is, and with how excited she is, she was bound to mess up.
You quickly and clearly write something down and turn the board to face the window.
Steven or Marc?
He smiled at you and scribbled back.
Jake
Marc n Steven told us about you. Hi!
They've told me a lot about you, too.
"That's Jake, honey. Remember what I said? How Steven and Mister Marc look alike? He's the same way." You explain to Victoria.
"Oh." She sighs. Poor little thing seemed dejected that once again, she misidentified someone as her "bestest friend".
You lift your eyes as Jake showed what he put on the notepad next. It was a badly drawn cat with a happy face on it.
You can't help but laugh and grin, nudging Victoria to look at what he drew for her.
"It's a kitty!" She gasps, snatching the board from your hands to draw pictures for him.
You spent much of the evening that night with Victoria and Jake drawing pictures back and forth, writing messages until he ran out of paper.
That's when you put down your phone number and told him to text, to make it easier on Victoria.
Victoria, upon realizing this, dropped her board and snatched your phone, starting a video call with Jake and chattering his ear off. He seemed to take it in stride, engaging with her. Not on the same level as Steven, but something about how he handled it gave you the impression he had experience with kids, or even worked with kids.
He didn't talk down or dumb anything down for her, he spoke to her calmly and clearly like he would anyone else, and the fact he was so sweet was endearing to you.
He was even teaching her little words in Spanish. For some reason, she liked to repeat the word "cat" because she liked how it sounded, and it was "funny".
That was how you met Jake Lockley.
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It was now half a year since you'd indirectly met all three "brothers" and quickly, the pressure was beginning to mount on them to reveal the truth to you as their crush developed more and more into full infatuation with you and your darling girl.
But they still hadn't asked you out, yet. They'd come close a few times, but it was never when Jake was in control so Marc and Steven backed down at the last possible moment. Every time Jake was in control it wasn't a "good moment" for them to propose a date with you. But now?
It was late in the year, the harvest festival being over with and the holidays around the corner with Christmas, as usual, dominating all others. Snow and ice encased everything. It came early this year, and Victoria couldn't be more thrilled. (She could build snowmen with her friends, Steven, Mister Marc and Mister Jake!)
You and Jake would text, and he gave in and told you that he, Marc, and Steven all actually lived together and he would "let" Steven or Marc use his phone so he could video chat with Victoria and you.
You didn't know the boys all shared the same phone regardless.
It was nice having a social life again, even if it was small. Outside work and ensuring a comfortable upbringing for your little girl, you'd forgotten how nice it was to have friends. Even if those friends consisted of three identical, quirky brothers who lived in the flat across the way.
The day was coming soon, for when they would have to confess to you about the true nature of their identities. And the three unanimously agreed that they would tell you about Moon Knight.
For your safety, and Victoria's. They didn't want you to agree to date them (if you ever would) only to find out they snuck out in the dead of night to do the bidding of some creepy ancient bird god who could frankly do with a wardrobe update...
They just didn't anticipate that day to be today. Of course, Steven would rather have broken the news to you over a nice dinner in the corner booth of a quiet restaurant. Or even on a nice walk through the park...
But no. No, it had to come out when you decided to pull out your phone and go through your texts or the day as Victoria sat in Steven's lap on the couch of your living room.
Jake had sent a meme earlier in the day, of a little cat wearing a sombrero and you chuckled. You sent a meme back in reply, of a snail holding some maracas on some drawn-on arms.
That's when Steven twitched when the phone in his back pocket vibrated and chimed with a silly little ringtone.
You blinked at him as he fished it out of his pocket, careful not to knock Victoria off balance as he checked it. He awkwardly cleared his throat and gave you a strained smile as he set it on the coffee table in front of you.
"You okay..." You say, eyeing the very familiar phone. They could just have the same model and case...
"Oh, yes, just an email alert, luv. Don't worry 'bout it!" Steven chirped, quickly shifting his attention back to Victoria as she practiced her reading from the book in her hands.
You squint at him suspiciously. Your finger hovered over the send button when you selected another silly little image...
But you decided to call instead.
That's when a song began to chime. One you recognized very well as Steven's favorite song...
♫"Lonely is a man,
Without looove~"♫
'God damn it, Steven! You forgot to put it on silent again!' Marc's panicked voice shouted inside their headspace.
'Ay, hermanito, not now!' Jake groaned.
Steven began to sweat profusely as Victoria handed the phone innocently to him, urging him to answer it, not making the correlation with the song, or your phone number...
Steven shakily held the phone to his ear and answered.
"H-Hello..."
"Steven." You deadpan, raising an eyebrow and tapping your finger on your arm.
'Shit shit shit shit.' Marc hissed.
'Busted.' Jake almost sang.
You look at Victoria, hesitant to interrupt her time with Steven, but you wanted answers. Why is it that none of the men ever agreed to all meet up in person to hang out? Why did you only ever see one at a time? Yes, work was a convenient excuse, but every single day?
And then there's the phone!
Yeah, you weren't letting Steven wiggle free from this talk, even as Victoria pouted and trudged back into her room to play with her toys.
You almost feel like a cop in a bad movie, the way you lean back with your arms crossed, almost like you were an interrogator in a police precinct.
Would this make you both the bad and good cop?
You felt so bad, knowing that this kind of behavior would only freak Steven out, so you relaxed your jaw and posture, leaning away from him and giving him breathing room as his sweaty hands began to pat nervously in the memorized tune of that specific song that was just playing.
"I'm not blind, and I'm not dumb... So start from the beginning." You sigh. "I don't want anything to come out and upset Victoria, but I have to know who I'm letting around my little girl."
Steven licked at his slightly chapped lips, taking his bottom lip between his teeth briefly.
"Okay..." He peeped.
'Just take it slow, Steven.' Marc urged him gently.
'I can take control, if you want.' Jake offered.
"No, that's too much right now." Steven muttered aloud, without thinking.
You tipped your head to the side. "What's too much?"
Steven jumped and covered his mouth, his big doe eyes wide as can be, like he's a little boy who was caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out.
He despised awkward situations like this. He could never tell what to say to keep someone happy and to avoid them getting angry with him...
"Steven, I'm not mad. I'm honestly confused. Please... Just... Tell me everything, okay? I just wanna know some things." You say, leaning forward to put your hand on his knee, your ever so patient eyes sweet and understanding.
Yeah, those eyes were his undoing.
"Do you know what Dissociative Identity Disorder is?"
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Whatever you had originally expected to hear from Steven, finding out that he, Marc and Jake all shared the same body was a lot to absorb. Especially after Steven blurted out about their superhero alter ego that apparently did bidding for an Egyptian god?
Steven expected you to be mad, braced himself for it, but instead, he and his two headmates were knocked entirely off center when you made the remark that if Khonshu ever got to be too much for the boys, they should lock him in a room with Victoria and her never-ending questions.
That would shut him up for a little while, surely.
Another thing you weren't expecting was the date proposal from Steven (and of course Marc and Jake).
You hesitated, at first... But...
They were so kind and sweet. They already have shown so much care for you and your daughter... And you were honestly happy to realize that you weren't crushing on different guys, that your feelings were no longer awkward and conflicted.
Or wait, were you crushing on different men? Yes they were completely different identities, but they shared a body, and... oh, this was gonna take time to learn more about.
Your first date was for later that week. Steven informed you it would be Jake, taking you out, as he felt like a "bloody awkward fool" and was afraid of messing it up, and Marc was just as bad at those social situations.
But you agreed, and when the date rolled around, you and Victoria were bundled up, all ready to go to the charming little Italian restaurant somewhere in town where apparently Jake was friendly with the employees there.
Victoria skipped in the snow, struggling to match her pace with yours, making sure her footsteps were measured so her prints mirrored yours exactly as she walked on her little tippy toes.
As you approached where Jake had his car parked, he smiled, his mustache quirking up as he scooped Victoria in his large gloved hands, laughing when she dragged her fingers over his hairy upper lip, comparing the stache to a caterpillar.
You stifled a snort and covered your mouth as you watched Jake buckle Victoria into a booster seat in the back of his car.
"Where did you..." You blinked. You fully intended to run back to your flat and grab the booster seat you owned, but you were surprised to see Jake already had one. A rather expensive-looking one, at that.
"Ay, cariño, you didn't think I'd let the little chiquita ride unprotected, did you?" He smirked at you, his dark eyes glinting mischievously.
"But, I have one. You didn't have to..."
"Hey, if it makes it easier, I'll be happy to foot the bill." Jake hummed, leaning in to check Victoria's buckles as she played on her tablet, snow-caked shoes kicking lazily as she did.
Normally, Jake was insane about his car. He always made sure his fares cleaned their damn feet off before getting inside. But for you two he willingly made the exception.
"Now, c'mon mamacita." Jake grinned at you once more as he enabled the child lock and closed the door on Victoria's side. "We got lunch to get to, right?"
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You couldn't remember the last time you were on a date. Actually wait, you could. The night you got pregnant. One of the only times Victoria's sperm donor was ever romantic with you, and he proposed the next morning after.
Yeah, you knew how that story ended.
But now it looked like a whole new book was being written right in front of you, as cliché as it all sounded.
Jake had treated you both well, engaging happily and drawing with Victoria on the activity mat the restaurant provided as you sipped your glass of red wine, watching; your heart was fluttering in your chest as you watched how happy she was interacting with them.
After a while, he went back out to his car and returned with a sparkly red gift bag for the two of you and you immediately felt your heart lurch up from your chest and into your throat.
He knitted the two of you matching jumpers. A mama cat and her kitten, of course, he managed to do it in an Egyptian style, much to Victoria's glee as she ripped off her regular jumper in favor of the one Jake made, immediately rubbing her face on the sleeve with a happy giggle.
You couldn't help but smile warmly as Jake helped her pop her head through the top, and you decided to slip yours on, yourself.
God, it was almost surreal how Hallmark it all seemed. Not one, but three men interested in you, a lonely single mother. All three men who adored your daughter and treated you both with respect. All three men, who shared the same body and nighttime secret.
And you found yourself falling just as hard, and somewhere in the back of your mind wondered if--if--you had met them first... would they have been Victoria's father(s)? Would they have rejoiced in your pregnancy? Gone to your appointments, held your hand in the delivery room? Would they have helped the doctors weigh and print Victoria for the very first time?
Your mind was knocked out of the what-ifs when your phone jingled, catching Jake's attention.
"Oh, it's Victoria's pediatrician. I have to take this." You sigh sadly, not wanting to step away from the cozy atmosphere in your booth.
Jake smiled at you and winked, "Go ahead and take it. I got her handled."
You smiled back, hoping the flush to your face wasn't as obvious as you feared as you got up and answered the call.
Jake continued to play and draw with Victoria, letting her explain how some of her learning games worked, what apps were her favorite, and who her favorite cartoon characters were.
Honestly, if anyone thought Steven was great with Victoria thanks to their same autistic traits? Jake was good simply because he was a natural with kids. Marc was, too, but he was a bit stiff and nervous. He needed to be eased into it just a bit more.
"Hey.... Psst. Mister Jake." Victoria whispered to him, blinking her big, bright, gorgeous eyes up at him.
"Yeah? What is it, gatita?" Jake hummed at her, grinning.
She waved her hand, urging him closer as she whispered conspiratorially, cupping her hand over his ear, "Look where Mommy's standing."
Jake lifts his gaze to find you among the crowd of people, where you stood on your phone, talking to the doctor about Victoria's upcoming appointment. He tracked where Victoria was pointing, and that's when he saw it: the mistletoe.
He knew immediately what Victoria was hinting at.
"That means you gotta kiss my Mommy." She whispered to him again.
"Oh, I do, huh?" Jake teased, poking her in the side. "And what if I don't?"
"Then Imma make you!" She squeaked and giggled.
"Oh, dear, then in that case I definitely have to do it, eh?" He chuckled.
"C'mon." Jake said, scooping Victoria up and holding her on his hip. "Let's go give another present to your wonderful mamá."
As they got closer to you, he caught the tail-end of your conversation.
"...yeah. Next Wednesday at 3pm. See you, then, Doctor Wilson. ...Of course! Happy holidays." You say cheerily, ending the call.
When you turned around, you saw Jake holding Victoria against him as he walked closer to you.
The sight really shouldn't have taken your breath away the way that it did...
But if you thought your breath was taken before? It was entirely robbed from you as Jake leaned in, wrapping an arm around your waist as he tipped his head down to kiss you, his mustache tickling your nose and upper lip.
You were so taken aback that you didn't hear the whooping and laughing from the workers of the restaurant as the scene unfolded in front of them, congratulating Jake.
Victoria squirmed and squealed and laughed and laughed, rubbing her face on Jake's leather jacket as your lips finally parted and your jaw dropped.
"What's the matter, mamacita? Cat got your tongue?"
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God, dating those men was the best decision you ever made. Even with them being Moon Knight.
They were kind enough to always say goodnight to Victoria before they went about their business, giving you a soft kiss before whichever one was in control of the body departed.
You had only been dating a short while, it was now entering February and you were all spending more and more time together. Marc, Jake, and Steven had all spent the night once or twice in their own time.
Nothing sexual happened, but it was so nice to fall asleep with someone wrapping their arms around you. It was even better to wake up and see Victoria snuggled onto his chest, his arms caged around her protectively, flexing when she made any movements as his unconscious body ensured she wouldn't roll off of him and--god forbid--onto the floor.
It was a few days before Valentine's, and Marc had spent the day with you and Victoria. He had gotten much more comfortable around her, falling into a natural and gentle routine unique to them. Just like she had with Steven, and Jake. And above all, they handled her autism well.
Steven was exceptionally good at helping distract her during her meltdowns, whereas Jake could cradle her, singing little songs in Spanish as he rubbed her back. Marc would start by talking to her in a low, gentle tone, urging her to just breathe, and talk, explaining what was upsetting her and what would work best to help her calm down from it.
But right now, Victoria was in the midst of a battle against sleep.
"Don' wanna sleep." Victoria sniffled into Marc's jumper.
"I know, babydoll, but you'll feel loads better once you do, mkay?" He murmured quietly to her as he padded, barefoot into Victoria's almost obnoxiously canary-yellow bedroom.
"I can make some apple pancakes for you in the morning, hm? How's that sound?"
He dodged the minefield of toys scattered about and chuckled softly at the shelf where her little ancient Egypt memorabilia sat meticulously organized alongside her books and drawings on the subject. A half-finished paper sarcophagus lay on the desk in the corner, a project Steven had started with her two days ago that they intended to finish together.
Marc laid her down and she nodded, rubbing her eye. "Okay..." She mumbled in agreement.
Marc picked up the plushy scarab that Steven bought from the gift shop and handed it to her, tucking her in all nice and warm.
"There you go." He said softly to her, kneeling next to the bed. "Snug as a bug in... well. Blankets, right now, huh?"
He grinned when Victoria giggled groggily at his pun, squeezing the beetle plush she named "Digger" and snuggled under the blankets, her feather lashes brushed her cheeks as she began to drift off.
"See you in the morning, babydoll." Marc said softly, giving her a kiss to her forehead before standing.
His finger had just flipped the switch to turn off the lights in her room, so only the salt lamp dimly illuminated her bedside, when he heard her peep as she rolled over.
"G'night daddy."
He felt like his heart stopped beating as he shakily closed the door, dragging his suddenly very heavy feet through your flat as he made his way to your couch, the weight of that word landing on his shoulders.
He felt like Atlas, carrying the world on his back as he dropped down onto the chocolate brown cushions.
You walk over, having finished dishes from dinner, wiping your hands on a tea towel. Upon seeing his shell-shocked expression, you sit next to him in concern as he covered his face with his hands, his arms shaking and skin pale.
"Marc, sweetie, what's wrong?"
"I..." He said, his voice breaking.
You lean in, reaching out to brush a hand through his mop of curls, letting him take his time. Maybe Steven or Jake was trying to front? You've seen how taxing it could be on them when it happened so suddenly. One time Steven had seized control in the kitchen from Jake and he fell and cracked his head open on the counter! Poor Victoria cried when she saw how much he was bleeding, scared that he was dying.
It took a lot of hugs and kisses to convince her otherwise...
"She... God. Fuck." Marc swore softly, sniffing. "She--she called me daddy."
Your jaw dropped and you gawked at him. Was Victoria already so attached to him? To them? But then again, she's never had a father figure, before, either, and suddenly having not one, but technically three men in her life doing all the things a dad should do? You can understand why she would--hell, why you would...
He dropped his arms and you could see the beginnings of tears clump in his beautiful eyelashes, heavy weights of emotion settling deep in his chest.
He looked up at the ceiling, trying to blink the tears away. God, he didn't deserve all of this. He didn't deserve this... this domesticity. Guys like him just didn't get to have a life like that. Not with everything he's had to do as a soldier, a mercenary... in Khonshu's name.
He didn't deserve such a beautiful woman, or the idolized gaze of her sweet and innocent baby girl.
'You're too hard on yourself, Marc.' Steven said to him in their headspace.
'Yeah, hermano...' Jake murmured.
"Marc, honey..." You say, leaning in and adjusting your position, so your head lay on his chest. You spread your hand over his heart, feeling how it hammered in the muscle of his chest.
"I just... What the hell did I do to get this?" He asked softly, bringing his arms around you to bury his nose in your hair.
"Well, I think it all started the day a certain little girl wiggled free of me and ran into a gift shop..."
Marc chuckled, squeezing you tight.
"Would you want us to?" He whispered. "Would you want us to stay? Would you be okay with that? I know it's soon, and--and I'm not saying we move in or anything like that, but..."
"I think it would crush Victoria if I ever shoo'd you boys away, honey." You assured him, tipping your head up to give him a sweet kiss.
You feel the tension slowly bleed from his body and his expression softens into a heartbreakingly sweet smile, his dark eyes sparkling with a warmth that you haven't seen before as your lips parted.
"Then we'll stay. As long as you both will put up with us." He said to you, his voice so quiet you almost couldn't catch his words.
"How do Steven and Jake feel about her calling you daddy?" You smile slyly.
Marc grins and drops his head back with a laugh, listening to the bickering of his headmates as his anxiety ebbed away.
"Oh... They're arguing over who Vicky is gonna call daddy next."
"We need to think of nicknames for you guys so she doesn't confuse you." You laughed with him.
Your laughter was cut short when you heard Victoria's door click open, and out she waddled, blanket clutched in one arm, Digger firmly squeezed into the crook of her elbow and her thumb was in her mouth. She only sucked her thumb when she was frightened, or severely anxious.
"Baby, what's wrong?" Marc asked, shooting to his feet even before you could, at her side in a split second.
You joined him and put your hands on her shoulders, looking into her drowsy and not-entirely-awake eyes. "Did you have a bad dream?"
She shook her head, mumbling something around her thumb.
"What is it, kiddo?" Marc inquired next.
She pulled her thumb out of her mouth with a pop.
"There's a bird-man in my room."
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whillywisp · 4 months
Text
Seeing a lot of talks about finnick as a dad/doting husband during pregnancy on the fyp and I must contribute to the conversation 🌱 (warnings: it's long and so fluffy you're gonna die). Part 1.
Part 2 ☁︎
The thing about Finnick is that he has a lot of love to give to anyone who would take it. His heart is overflowing with it, shining cerulean with it. So of course fatherhood came to him as easily as breathing—
Wrong. Have you seen that walking talking ball of anxiety, love and autism?
The day you tell him you're pregnant he passes the fuck out. On the floor. And when he wakes up he cries for an hour straight, thanking you enough times with kisses pressed into every inch of your skin he could reach that the words don't even sound like English anymore. He's so grateful, so fucking grateful and terrified but above all, completely and irrevocably in love with you.
Throughout the pregnancy, he's as paranoid as it gets to the point you have to beg him to please leave you alone and no, Finnick the baby won't be hurt if i eat too fast please breathe and let me breathe but it's all from a place of love. He's lost too much, almost everything in his life. The few people he could still keep were precious to him and he was not going to let any of them forget that least of all his babies. Or baby.
Finnick talks to the baby a lot. Asking the most bizarre question to your bump as if he actually expected a tiny, baby's voice to answer him. He was constantly on about something new and his favourite topic to talk about was whatever his new hyperfixation was and you just nodded and smiled because of course the baby wants to know how to do an alpine stitch! But it was so endearing and relieving to see him finally be happy, finally find a purpose, even if it was to just talk nonstop to your belly. He deserves this, these little pockets of happiness.
And one of his greatest happiness was taking care of you. Circling back to the fact that he starts hyperventilating when his lover so much as sneezes too hard, the hellscape that was pregnancy scared him. No, fuck it, it terrified him. So he did what he always did and loved to do and banned you from anything and everything that needed physical exertion. Chores of any kind were out of order. You were on a healthy diet of four meals a day and of course they included all your cravings that he always presented to you no questions asked thank you very much and you had to take naps, multiple of them, all with his presence as a requirement (you were sure those were just an excuse to cuddle you but you would rather take up another round of hunger games than call him out on it). He attended every appointment, had an alarm set for all the prenatal meds, and always a kiss for the belly and your lips just so you knew that this was it for him. You and your baby were the very centre of his universe and this was him orbiting you both. And you couldn't help but be grateful that you had him to love and cherish just as he did you.
And your favourite way of telling him you loved him was letting him take control over the one thing you knew he loved: baby shopping. With all due respect, this is the type of guy who bought baby shoes when he was eighteen with no baby in sight because look at how tiny this is it's so cute *big sparkly green eyes.* But it's particularly endearing watching him waltz around the store, arms full of onesies and plushies and you kind of just stand there, unable to do anything because what the fuck were you supposed to do at nine months pregnant and married to a man who you *checks notes* gifted a day where he could buy anything he wanted as a birthday present?
I promise you the answer was not 'go into an early labour the second he dumped the shopping bags in the living room' but who am I to say anything?
The baby coming two whole weeks early did not sit well with his anxiety. He was a mess, a complete and utter mess but he was also the most precious angel on this planet so seeing him holding back tears of fear so he could be there for you and hold you tight, so tight, because he was scared he would lose you broke your heart too. While the pain of the labour was bad, knowing he was close, holding you tight as he pressed gentle kisses everywhere, to cater to everything you needed, was enough to realise, he was the one. And you were going to fight through hell for him.
Such a wretched thing, love, you thought to yourself as you felt him shake beside you through the pain and haze, to ask you to hope against hope that the strain on your strength and your fading string of fate would persevere despite it all.
But you did. You survived and so did your precious little baby girl, and so did the last pieces of Finnick's soul, despite it all.
The first time he holds his tiny, tiny baby in his arms, something in his brain just clicks (or maybe his frontal lobe was finally fully developed because of course his baby picked the day before his birthday to make her own entry on planet earth) but whatever it was, it was perfect. His entire world narrowed down to the squirming little angel in his arms and he couldn't help but feel his heart leave his chest for the second time in his life to become hers. She fit right into the crook of his arms, the space in his neck. She fit into his life like another piece of puzzle that he never knew he was look for.
She was his little angel, his little girl. The person he never knew he fought through whole wars for but now, holding her against his chest as he watched you both sleep, he knew this is what he was meant to do. To love, to love, to love. For the sake of it. Simply because he could. Simply because he was alive and it was good enough reason to love with his entire being.
Part 1 because I don't exactly know if you people will like it enough to want more.
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