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sgt-morgan · 1 year

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Marquee Moon 🌙

Summary: you’re having a tough time with your second baby. Pregnancy sucks, and your lovely Steven does what he can to make you feel better. Part of the Estrellita verse

Warnings: depression, depressive episode, real shitty pregnancy symptoms, AFAB and female identifying reader, one cut that isn’t described too much, inaccurate depictions if DID as made cannon by the show.

A/N: I had a depressive episode, then my baby brother turned on my favorite song and made me have a dance party, then o felt less shitty. I wasn’t cured, but I felt better. This is the result. Also, to those who have asked. No, reader is not married to the system in the Estrellita verse yet. I’m just bad at not writing husband and wife for them because I know where their story is headed. In this house, we support marriage when the couple is ready, no sooner no later.

Moonknight Masterlist

Something was off. Steven couldn’t put his finger on it exactly, but he knew there was something… wrong. You were at the stage that your mom had affectionately called ‘miserably pregnant.’ You had gotten there last time, but this time was hitting harder than the last, and he couldn’t put a finger on just one thing that was messing with you.

Rory was struggling for one, the idea of having to go to a daycare was wildly unpopular for the girl who was so used to being with her mom almost constantly. The change was needed though, the little girl was just cresting the age of four, and you decided that she needs socialization, and to start learning basic skills for preschool. You figure her going to daycare while you were at work would be a good idea. Your parents had watched her up until this point, and you appreciated it, keeping her in a safe environment with your parents for so long was a great way to keep her in a safe environment without needing to worry about her catching illnesses or any other terrible thing. It just seemed to work out, your parents needed something to do, and you needed the childcare. Easy fix. The same could be said for your niece when she was little, three was the age that she started going to daycare, and you were sending her to the same place Cassie had gone. Your sister was able to keep her baby at home, but you couldn’t, so your new baby, when she was born, would also go to your Parent’s place. You were once again grateful that your sister was an accomplished editor, who enjoyed staying at home with her babies to do her job. It was her superpower, and most days you would say it was way more useful than yours.

So with all the transitioning schedules underway, and your parents not wanting to watch two babies at once, you enrolled Rory in daycare, and she hated it. It was too loud and there were too many people, and they didn’t speak Spanish, or Hebrew, or Arabic, and they didn’t believe that she had three daddies, and they didn’t like books. Rory has sensory disorders, so you knew this transition would be rough, but you weren’t expecting the full blowout that was her transition to daycare. She wouldn’t nap, she wouldn’t eat, she wasn’t playing with others, it was hell. She screamed every time you dropped her off, and your husband could tell it broke your heart every time. So you were in the hunt for a good fit, clearly this place wasn’t cutting it, so some other place would have to do. It would have to, you couldn’t do one more crying fit, or another bout of exhausted tantrums when she got home.

On top of all that, Rory was getting even more clingy. You would never dream of complaining about how much your baby loved you, but it was hard to juggle your belly and the rambunctious toddler who had seemed to attach herself to your hip. It was one of the things your doctor had warned you about about baby number two, the possibility of Rory starting to be more possessive of you. It was the underestimation of the century. She couldn’t get enough of you, wanting you to hold her, snuggle her, tuck her in. She was constantly clinging to you, kissing your belly and talking to the baby. She threw huge fits when someone took her from you, even when it was one of her dads, and she loves her dads. It was draining you, he could tell, but you kept pressing on trying to do what’s best for your daughter.

Then there was work, you still had one more mom expecting before your schedule was cleared for your parent leave. Being a dula was hard work, you were an advocate for mothers needs, a helping hand, a birthing expert, but doing all of that while also being ready to burst? Well, that’s its own special kind of hell. Horror stories from other peoples births were wild, and helping your patients with those horror stories while being pregnant yourself? Not optimal. On top of your normal duties, there was also the added stressor of most of your clients coming from Juno, needing you to protect mother and baby through some form or another with your pledge to her service. Thankfully, working with a fertility goddess meant leniency when it came to your duties as an avatar while knocked up, so at least that was a plus.

Then there was their problems. The system’s jobs were stacking up in preparation for paternity leave, dishing out make up work for each if them to handle before they took time off. Marc had exactly one last transit job for some artifact Konshu asked him to see settled, Jake had to make sure licensing, certifications, registrations, and inspections were completed in his fleet before he took off, and Steven was saddled with two deadlines on exhibits he was meant to be curating coming up. All of that on top of attempting to be a parent, a partner, and an Avatar for a grumpy ass deity. All of this had equaled less time spent with his pregnant lover, who just wanted to have one goddamn minute with her lovers please and thank you.

Then there was just all of the bodily side effects of pregnancy. You experienced all of this with Aurora too, but it didn’t really seem to hit you that badly. Your Belly grew more round, you complained that the stretching skin was itchy, they could only imagine. Your nipples were more sensitive, every one of them would wince in sympathy whenever they came home to find you sniffling miserably with bags of frozen peas on your chest. your feet grew a size, they had with Rory as well, and they never went back to normal, and having to buy new shoes again was really pissing you off. You were puking constantly, you developed a supreme sense of smell that caused you to hate some of your favorite foods, and even just catching a whiff sent you sprinting to the toilet at the first sign of trouble. Never let them tell you the puking is just a first trimester thing, it’s a lie. Your hips hurt, your muscles and bones making way for a baby was no easy feat, and you waddled around the house groaning and you tossed and turned all night trying to find a safe position for your aching joints. it was a whole list of terrible shit. The worst though, was your quote unquote ‘Pregnancy nose.’ Gods in heavens how you couldn’t stand the swelling of your face. Hormones are powerful shit, and with the sudden influx of them, and your new water retaining superpowers, your joints weren’t the only things that were ballooning. The system often found you staring in the mirror and picking at your face. The pregnancy acne and the nose were your least favorite things, It bothered you to no end, though they couldn’t understand why.

Your partners didn’t notice, only thinking you were beautiful and lovely while round and full with their child. However, you saw yourself as a whale, no matter how many times they assured you you were the most beautiful woman in the world. It was terrible for your disposition, but none of them knew what more to do about it other than support you however they could.

Steven though, Steven thinks he hit the nail on the head. It was about a month in to your pregnancy, they had just figured out you were pregnant, and you had switched medicines about two months before, new antidepressants that worked wonders, but unfortunately we’re not meant for pregnant women. So you went off them, and back on your old ones, and Steven thinks they weren’t working.

“Hey, you lot noticed she’s slept all day today?” Steven muttered into his teacup, Marc reflecting back at him from the murky surface of his tea, while Jake stared from the reflection of his darkened phone screen.

“Sí, parece estar más agotada de lo habitual.” Jake grunted, running a hand through his hair and snuggly fastening his flat cap back down.

“I know, she’s having an episode.” Marc sighs. You hadn’t had an episode like this since the beginning of your relationship. You had just switched up dosages and it wasn’t enough, you had sat and stared at the television, and slept, and did nothing for about a week until he finally made you call your doctor again to up your dosage. Thankfully this was more than likely a temporary episode, caused by the change in meds. He called your doctor to check and he said the same, but if it lasted more than a week, he should call and have an appointment scheduled to have the medicine changed or the dosage raised. Thankfully, your family’s psychiatrist was a skilled one, and one who was well versed in both your and the systems mental Illnesses. He was a good guy, they’re thankful to have him.

You and Steven were supposed to be cleaning house together today, doing some prep work before the arrival of your second daughter. It had started out well, about two hours in, you had cleaned the entire kitchen, scrubbed the fridge, washed dishes, put new child locks on the cabinets, and were doing really well. Steven was putting together your bedside bassinet for the baby to be put back in your room, having been put away since Cassie had started sleeping in her own room. He had also put up new blackout curtains in the nursery, and moved Cassie’s big girl bed into her new room across the hall from your room and the nursery. He had just finished building the bassinet when he heard a crash from the kitchen. Jake seized the body at the sound and hustled into the kitchen to find you sobbing into your hands, a broken tea kettle on the ground, not yet heated water covering your feet and the floor. They could clearly see this was your final straw for today, and their heart wrenched to see a pretty deep cut on your palm. At the sight of your silent, defeated, tears, Steven immediately took control again, carefully walking to you and wrapping you up in his arms. He shushed you calmly and rocked you back and forth, waiting for your tears to slow before he bandaged your hand. He then softly ushered you to your room where he made you change and lay down with him to take a nap. He lay flat on his back, and you were curled on your side curled facing away from him, staring at nothing and refusing to talk. He pulled you close to him and wiped at your tears until you fell asleep. Which led up to where he was now, drinking a cup of tea and contemplating what to do about your state.

“Let’s finish up the nursery, pick up the kid, and toss in another load of laundry, if she’s up by then we’ll get her to eat.” Steven mumbled, downing his tea and setting to work. Steven knew well that you can’t fix other peoples illness, it’s just a fact of life. He would take your pain and sadness if he could without ever thinking of the consequences, but you can’t just whisk away the bone deep dread and anxiety that was permeating your life like an unwanted rainstorm. He also knew that when you were like this, which didn’t happen often, it made Jake and Marc a little skittish. It didn’t bother him though, out of all the alters, he understood that life is always harder than you asked for, and depression can just amplify those things that make life as difficult as it is. Depressive episodes happen, the system has them, you have them, it’s just a fact of life for your family, and thankfully you were both committed adults who knew better than to take each others bad days personally. Instead, you did what you could to make the bad days tolerable. Today was one of those days, and Steven was more than willing to do what he could to salvage what was left of your day.

Steven put the last touches on the nursery and Rory’s new room. He moved Aurora’s name sign to her new room, switching it for the new baby’s. Then he tossed in the last load of laundry you needed done, and tidied up the toys in the living room. When he finished, he drove to Rory’s daycare. today it seemed that the daycare finally

won the girl over. With a shockingly complete change in attitude, Aurora told her Baba Steven all about the new daycare worker Ellie. Ellie, a new supply teacher finishing up he degree at university, had sat and read with her today. She told him all about how instead of going to the gym, miss Ellie let her stay in the classroom and look at books and listen to music. Steven grinned, like father like daughter, she didn’t like crowds, couldn’t blame her. This was good, a good improvement, one more win in the books.

When he got home, he found you awake and cooking dinner. He could tell from your puffy eyes and listless body language that you were still down though. When he came into the kitchen he gently wrapped an arm around your shoulders and kissed your temple. Even when you were struggling, you still took care of them. He loved that about you. You tried to smile for Rory, and while it might have worked on the little girl, he couldn’t be fooled. Though you did shoot him an impressed look when Rory told you all about her day at daycare, and her new friend Miss Ellie. Dinner was easy, just some pasta your threw together from a jar, but Rory ate it with gusto, and when she finished, he offered to give her a bath. You smiled and nodded, putting the dishes in the washer even though he insisted you leave it to them. You just waved him off and he sighed, carrying Aurora to the bath. Once he got her in the tub and soaped up her hair, the very intelligent child spoke up.

“Mummy sad today.” She stated matter of factly, splashing a toy around while Steven gently rinsed the bubbles from her hair.

“Yeah, she is a little bit down in the dumps, but mummy is gonna be alright, it’s just a bad day innit?” He said, smiling at the little girl gently.

“It’s okay Baba, people are sad sometimes.” She nodded sagely, parroting the words you had both instilled from the very beginning. Once again, Steven finds himself in awe of this perfect little girl, what on earth had a bloke like him done to deserve this perfect angel.

“Yeah mate, s’right. People just have bad days. Mummy is just tired, making a baby is hard work.” He chuckled, gently combing conditioner through her curly locks.

“Why doesn’t she just have the baby?” Rory scoffed and Steven chuckled.

“Would be easier wouldn’t it, doesn’t work like that though, your sister is not baking in there I’m afraid, mummy will have to just let her keep bouncing around on her bladder.” He chuckled, rinsing the girls hair again before pulling her out of the tub with a grunt as the child squirmed. “S’all right though- oh my days, have you gotten taller?- mummy will have your sister soon.”

“Well, then why don’t we give mum a dance party? Dance parties always make me feel better.” She says clapping her little hands at Steven and smiling. He nods slowly, thinking about it as he helps her pull on her Bluey pjs.

“Yah know? Thats not a half bad idea.” He grins at the girl, and he can see the proud stares of his alters in the reflection of the trifold mirror in their bathroom.

“God, we are the luckiest men alive.” Mark sighs, covering his mouth with his hand while Jake grins with a nod.

“We are surrounded by perfect women. How could any bastards be luckier than us?” Jake chuckles.

“Your Papí, Daddy, and I love you Princess.” Steven smiles, kissing her hair softly once he has it brushed out and pulled into two tiny little buns.

“I love you too dadas.” She smiles kissing him sweetly on the cheek. He carries Rory into the living room and makes his way casually to the record player. Time to dance.

You’re sitting on the couch facing the window, staring blankly at the rain as it beats down over New York with a vengeance. You’d been down lately, you know you had. Switching up meds and all the hormone changes of pregnancy were really beating you down. Life was changing, and when you weren’t able to fully regulate your emotions, it made every single inconvenience and struggle seems ten times more pressing. You were certain that this was a depressive episode. You’re sure your partner had caught on already, and you were grateful he had effortlessly picked up your slack without making you feel belittled. Starting a life with your Moonknight in shining armor had been the best decision you’d ever made. You may not be married just yet, but he had no hope in hell of getting rid of you that’s for sure.

You know you’d zoned out, but you couldn’t help it. You just felt… tired. Sad, and anxious, and tired. You couldn’t help it, you were trying, you got something done today at least, you cleaned the kitchen and did most of the laundry, you cooked and cleaned up dinner, but all you wanted to do now was pass out again. You felt so guilty, you had already slept for most of the day, you couldn’t be that tired, but alas, brain chemistry was a cruel mistress, and today you were in the doghouse. Then suddenly, music. You turned to look, dropping the moon necklace you had been fiddling with back onto your chest. You look up to see your sweet Steven reaching down and pulling you to your feet, while Marquee Moon by Television floated from the speakers on your record player.

“I remember

Ooh, how the darkness doubled

I recall Lightning struck itself

I was listening Listening to the rain

I was hearing Hearing something else

Life in the hive puckered up my night

A kiss of death, the embrace of life

Ooh, there I stand neath the Marquee Moon Just waiting”

Steven pulled you to your feet with a small smile and started to slowly dance with you in one arm, and your baby girl in the other. Twirling you with a grin.

“I spoke to a man Down at the tracks

And I ask him How he don't go mad

He said, "look here, junior, don't you be so happy And for heaven's sake, don't you be so sad."

He whispered the lyrics in your ear while you danced and twirled around the living room. For the first time all day, Steven was relieved to see a genuine smile grace your lips. He just knew you were recalling your first ever date to that little outdoor night market, a local band playing a cover of this song while you danced like nobody was watching. Just as he and his daughter had hoped, your impromptu dance party was working.

“Well, the Cadillac It pulled out of the graveyard Pulled up to me All they said, "get in, get in" Then the Cadillac

It puttered back into the graveyard

Me, I got out again Life in the hive puckered up my night A kiss of death, the embrace of life Ooh, there I stand neath the Marquee Moon

But I ain't waiting, uh-uh.”

You swayed to the time of the twangy post-punk classic, and your grin just kept growing as you twirled around the room. You started singing the lyrics to your daughter and curled your arm around Steven’s waist. Your joy was slowly creeping back in, this perfect Moment with your little family starting to bring you back to life second by second. You felt the warmth of their love creep up over your sadness, filling your brain with the glow of their love for you, and even though the sadness still lingered at the edges of your consciousness, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. This moment was too perfect to waist. Only made more perfect by the excited kicking of your newest addition where your belly pressed up against Steven. He grinned down at you, snuggling all of his girls closer and resting a palm where baby number two was kicking, and for the first time all week, you were content.

“I remember

How the darkness doubled

I recall Lightning struck itself

I was listening

Listening to the rain

I was hearing

Hearing something else.”

#marc spector #marc spector x reader #jake lockley #steven grant #steven grant x reader #moon knight #jake lockley moon knight #marc spector moon knight #matt murdock #jake lockely x reader #steven grant fic #steven grant moon knight #steven grant fluff #steven grant my beloved #marc spector fic #marc spector angst #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley fic #jake lockley x you

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datastate · 4 months

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do you have any hcs about mishima and nao?

SOOO MANY! BUT for now, i'll stick with a small one on their beginning friendship :D

nao used to be very quiet in a lot of her classes; a nice person, certainly, and easy to talk to! but rather closed off unless you tried to pry, where even that would just be rude and she'd say as much.

but of course, there were small things here and there she'd share with her friends should you happen to overhear. usually, it'd be anime/manga that she'd recommend to others (usually horror with interesting concepts, though she wasn't immune to well-written 'slice of life's) - which resulted in hana (her best friend) actually buying her a keychain for her bag!! nao doesn't usually wear/buy merch, as she fears she'll lose/damage them, but... since her friend got it, she felt she'd be disappointed if she didn't show it off.

&...! this is the spark for professor mishima to actually prompt her on her interests; one of the few things she'd end up rambling on about... and he has enough context to keep her going!

it was nice getting to see her actually relax a bit, if a bit surprising to realize that she liked horror so much... and of course, it was when she inevitably brought it back to art (she was inspired to become an artist from such a silly thing, though mishima assures he understands) that she started getting nervous again; as much as she loves it, she can't draw it well. it doesn't feel like it could fit her style much at all - she intimidates herself out of drawing it.

however! mishima does not lose hope so easily. he encourages her to keep trying & experimenting with her art. after all, art is something she should have for herself if nothing else...

although mishima doesn't typically work with horror, he does have plenty of pointers on how to incorporate characters into a backdrop (it provides variation + reflects his current views too... people being a part of something larger, connected through means they don't quite realize); he had a similar start to nao in that he often relied heavily on portraits/character focus, but for that reason can help lead her along into slowly branching out.

a lot of what nao likes is the eerie - something that you have to really look at to realize how off it is. working on backgrounds such as these definitely helps with integrating characters in a more natural manner! and helps improve her work altogether, too...!! she's having more fun than she used to with her personal projects, where she previously felt stagnant but couldn't pinpoint why (and felt guilty to ask hana, as the response would always be a well-meaning "but i like your art! i don't think that at all" rather than critique she wished for), so it was...!! really nice for her to have <3

and... getting to show a trusted adult that, too, made her very happy. her parents didn't often see art as something that'd work out... but she finally felt pride in her work, and had something else to look forward to when it came to classes, rather than simply skirting by day-to-day. it took about a year and a half of school to get here, but... it makes it feel worth it.

it's also around this late time of the year, too, that mishima casually mentions he's trans.

one of the other students is complaining about the cold, and he agrees a bit too personally that skirts are awful in this weather before offering his usual advice... and it's this moment that stays in nao's mind. combined with previous comments here and there about the dysmorphia in horror...

despite this near-confirmation... nao waits until the very end of the year before she admits to the professor that she's trans. she hasn't really socially transitioned yet, only a few friends know, and she's still a bit afraid she might've misunderstood that he's trans... but it all turns out well by the end of it <3

however, since she's about to enter her last year with people who mostly knew her as a boy, it's only when she graduates that mishima offers to help put word in to adjust her uniform; which she greatly appreciates... also, throughout her last year, they get to actually discuss how it is to be mixed & that is when he offers to learn arabic with her. she was never taught it, and is too embarrassed to ask her parents, so he's taken it upon himself to help her with that too... here and there, still as her mentor and friend even after their time in school :'D

#i kind of digressed toward the end but <3 i love them...#i have. so much to say. but at this rate it 'd be a whole ass timeline...!!#ask #mutuals #zomplush #yttdposting #yttd hcs

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denimbex1986 · 5 months

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'We are so back. Sure, the next season of Doctor Who isn’t supposed to drop until sometime in spring 2024. But to help us transition into the upcoming era, we’re getting three-anniversary specials and a Christmas special this month. Returning showrunner Russell T. Davies is hitting the ground running. Last week’s special was an ensemble adventure involving the Doctor, Donna Noble, multiple members of Donna’s family, and of course, the deceivingly adorable Beep the Meep. In contrast, this episode rests almost entirely on the Doctor and Donna’s shoulders. Good thing they’ve got giant arms! (Or at least, their evil twins do.)

David Tennant and Catherine Tate are flexing their acting skills as both protagonists and antagonists because this adventure introduces a pair of villains that can copy bodies and memories. Perhaps these so-called Not-Things are distant relatives of the creature from “Midnight”? Either way, it’s a thoroughly creepy premise. But in classic RTD fashion, the episode bounces between tense moments and playful humor, making it fitting that its title is a nod to a war song that’s still jaunty enough to be performed by a children’s choir.

“Wild Blue Yonder” picks up with the TARDIS crashing into an apple tree near Isaac Newton, who has enough melanin to inspire some uninspired “Doctor Woke” think pieces. The Doctor and Donna deliver a punchline about gravity in unison, and Newton promptly misremembers this new word as “mavity.” The whole scene feels like an opening sketch from another beloved BBC export — one more pun, and Noel Fielding could’ve walked out and announced it was sci-fi week on The Great British Baking Show. But the tone instantly shifts when the flaming TARDIS drops the Doctor and Donna off on a spaceship at the literal edge of the universe.

Much like Doctor Who itself, the TARDIS is in the process of rebuilding itself. That inadvertently reactivates a feature that causes the TARDIS to dematerialize when it senses hostile action, taking the sonic screwdriver with it. The Doctor and Donna are stranded and aware that they’re in danger. Not ideal. Donna is understandably panicked by the gravity (or mavity) of the situation. The show takes the opportunity to helpfully remind us that even though Fourteen has a familiar face, he’s still a different Doctor. When Donna tries to brush the Doctor off, he kisses her hand and holds it on his chest, offering both physical and verbal reassurance. Yeah, some of his past regenerations could never.

After a scan fails to detect other life signs on the ship, the Doctor decides that he and Donna should split up and complete tasks in different rooms. They meet back up, but something’s off. They don’t usually let the other ramble for that long without interrupting with a bit of banter, do they? Sure enough, the not-alive Not-Things reveal themselves by complaining that their arms are too long, with the camera cutting to the astonishingly elongated proof.

At first, it’s easy to identify the Not-Things. They’re puffed-up, distorted versions of the Doctor and Donna that clog the hallway. But their duplication gets better with each try. And with the ship’s walls periodically shifting, the Doctor and Donna eventually find it difficult to distinguish between body bender and BFF. (By the way, a spaceship where passengers are completing tasks, moving through hidden passages, and having heated arguments over who is an impostor? Oh, RTD definitely played Among Us during lockdown.)

Despite their comically stretchy bodies, the Not-Things struggle to wrap their heads around the concept of nuance. Most concerningly, they’ve decided that the universe is only about fury, hatred, and violence. Their restricted system of thinking makes them falter when presented with any seeming contradictions. How can Donna think she’s both dumb and brilliant? Why is the Doctor suggesting that a superstition can also be true? At one point, the Not-Doctor’s tie disappears after he drops it on the floor. In one of the more unsettling moments of the episode, he realizes his mistake: “When something is gone, it keeps existing.” The episode constantly emphasizes that things don’t always fit into mutually exclusive binaries. It feels like a thematic extension of the last special, which presented a nonbinary solution to the meta-crisis: The DoctorDonna couldn’t survive, but the introduction of Donna’s daughter, Rose — a third party — saved her mom’s life.

Conveniently, the Doctor and Donna don’t actually have to think of a way to take the Not-Things down. The ship’s previous captain has already done that by programming the ship to turn itself into a bomb, slowly enough that the object-permanence-challenged Not-Things haven’t figured out what’s happening three years later. The captain also took her own life before her plan could be copied from her mind. Unfortunately, the Not-Things find it easier to duplicate targets who are thinking, whose blood is pumping. The Doctor can’t stop himself from realizing that a slow-moving robot on the ship is a bomb trigger, which means the Not-Things reach the same conclusion. The Doctor speeds up the countdown, and the TARDIS senses that the Not-Things won’t have time to stop the detonation. This means the hostile action is over, so the TARDIS comes back! The Doctor hops on board with the wrong Donna, and the console alerts him to a tiny mistake in her wrist length. Just as the bomb goes off, he ejects the Not-Thing and scoops up his real companion.

Safely back in the TARDIS, the Doctor seems to be on the precipice of an emotional milestone. Earlier on the other ship, Not-Donna accessed the DoctorDonna’s memories and forced the Doctor to think about the consequences of Chris Chibnall’s era, including the Flux and the fact that the Doctor no longer knows where he’s from. The conversation affected him so much that he stopped to kick a wall afterward. I’d make a joke about men doing anything instead of going to therapy, but it was honestly pretty satisfying to see the Doctor finally reckon with the emotional fallout, even if he has to take it out on an inanimate object. Look, half of creation was destroyed, and his entire understanding of Time Lord history was rewritten … he can have a little tantrum, as a treat. Plenty of fans certainly did.

It feels like the Doctor is thinking about opening up about all of this to the real Donna because he carefully asks if she, too, remembers his past 15 years. When she says she doesn’t, however, he falls right back into old patterns of avoidance. Donna even accuses him of timing the TARDIS’s landing so he doesn’t have to talk about what happened. He doesn’t deny keeping her at arm’s length — in that sense, even before the Not-Thing, the Doctor’s limbs have always been too long.

To be fair, the universe does enable his behavior. There’s always a distracting fire that needs to be put out somewhere, and this episode is no exception. When the TARDIS finally lands, Wilf is parked outside waiting for his granddaughter and his favorite alien. We barely have time to enjoy Bernard Cribbins’s sweet posthumous appearance before explosions and fights break out in the street. Wilf reveals that “everyone’s gone mad” and the “whole world is coming to an end.” As easy as that, the Doctor has another excuse to put off processing his feelings.

Cut for Time (Lord)

• The Doctor is so unserious for pretending to be dying after licking that filament. The music added a dramatic touch that helped with the payoff of that scene and several others, so props to the sound designer.

• I appreciate the parallels between the Doctor and Donna’s conversations with the Not-Things. When Donna is wondering what her family (Rose, Shaun, and Sylvia) would do without her, the Doctor is thinking the same thing about his loved one (the TARDIS). The Doctor is reminded of the Timeless Child, and Donna gets to recount her own emotionally fraught origin story (sleep with one eye open, Auntie Iris).

• I’ve heard that some people didn’t love the look of all the body stuff, but I, for one, am glad it didn’t look too realistic. I’d rather be laughing at the Not-Doctor melting into a backbend and galloping around on all fours instead of having nightmares. Incidentally, I can’t believe those giant hands weren’t CGI.

• The Doctor surprises himself by admitting that he finds Isaac Newton to be “so hot.” Perhaps we’ll explore that more with Ncuti Gatwa’s Doctor … also, does that mean the Fourth Doctor was bluffing about explaining gravity to Newton after dropping apples on his head? He just wanted to flex in front of Romana, lol.

• I didn’t expect to get so emotional about the dedication to Bernard Cribbins in the end credits! Hoping to see more of him in the next episode.

• It seems like the chaos on Earth might have to do with the salt superstition the Doctor invoked at the edge of the universe, and I’m worried about it.'

#Doctor Who #David Tennant #Russell T. Davies #Catherine Tate #Donna Noble #The Star Beast #Wild Blue Yonder #Yasmin Finney #Rose Noble #Bernard Cribbins #Wilfred Mott #Ncuti Gatwa #Beep the Meep #Issac Newton #Flux #The Timeless Child #Chris Chibnall

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lady-asteria · 2 years

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Blossick is transfem4transfem,Boomubbles is transmasc4transfem and Butchercup is transmasc4transmasc <3 It's equal rights!!

Finally! Someone who gets it!

...Do you mind headcanon time? For both gender and sexuality?

But also, I'm totally biased bc both Bubbles and Butch use they/them pronouns and BC is genderfluid (mainly he/they)

So meanwhile Brick keeps her name bc she choose it, BC wanted to change it bc it never feel theirs. He still wanted to follow the B and so go for BC bc if feels better.

Both Bubbles and Butch are nb and use they/them pronouns. Their fisrt friendly interaction was them complaining about their misgender bc they know how they presence themselves, bc Bubbles loves pretty and colour clothes, such as dress and makeup and Butch (who also loves makeup) is tall and has muscles, sadly, the "expression = gender" mind of Townsville is used to invalidate their identity, but they get their new bff- So they eat ice-cream, complain and become besties

They definetely change their group names to genderless words (first kids and later teens)

Was Brick Blossom's lesbian awaking? Well, actually, she had crush in other girls but didn't see them as such bc "compulsory heterosexuality" However, she made her realized it (I have a fanfic about it but basically is "Oh, don't be silly, I don't like bad boy....Wait- I don't like boys...I like girls... I like bad girls.... *looks at Brick* A very specific bad girl!"

Talking about this: Blossom is a lesbian, Bubbles is pan and BC is bi. Butch is bi too, Brick is ace-panromantic and Boomer is demi.

Meanwhile the puffs actually had a easy transition and actually had a, relative, easy acceptance (specially a self-accept, the acception of their siblings, father and friends) the ruffs had a more hard time. The toxic masculine and villain life they suffered (not necesarry from HIM or Mojo but from the society) made them doubt about open and being themselves around each other

Brick wasn't sure her sibling will accept her as leader, Butch was scared bc their siblings won't see their identity as valid and Boomer had a phase of toxic masculinty "I must to be the most boy ever bc if not, will they see me as one?" The three of them were scare bc "What if they think there is something wrong with me?"

Of course, they support each other bc nobody but them annoy the other two!

This helped Boomer to go out the toxic masculinity mentality and enjoy the things he likes even if they weren't traditional boy things- Knowing certain blue puff also helped bc "Who cares about gender roles? You're a boy regardless of what you like!"

They started to get along a Boomer fell in love very easy

Butch had always admired BC as a fighter (not that they would addmit it) so it was relative easy to them to respect the other and bond- Their feeling were a natural progression until someday they were like "holy shit, he's hot- Wait, they have always been hot, he's more than that" And become flustered

BC just kiss them bc their team won and he was so happy they had to express it somehow- And they realize

Mojo Jojo and Him were very supportive with their kids, not when they decide stop being villains and be "normal teenagers" but they were almost in retirement so, ok (them dating the puffs was shocking too)

To be fair, lot of people were...doubful, villains see them as traitors and the city started to distrust the puffs. (Also, some people where total assholes)

The puffs just take the shit out of them bc a hate crime is still a crime ❤ (wish I could)

But like, they start to know about the others and discover they, actually, get along! Basically, the ruffs learn to appreciate the goodness in the world and how, yes, it's hard but it's worth it (they don't fight against the crime in the way the puffs do, but if they see someone being a bully or a bigotry...Violence is in their nature.) and the puffs learns that they don't need to sacrife their happiness or lives for the sake of others, (they are still heroes, but they start to ask for better laboral conditions)

I'm Blossick biased so- Be ready

They were flirting intentional at the same totally oblivious to the other's flirt (bc so smart, so dumb)

Hard pining but they are so sure they are good at hiding it...Until one day is like "Are you flirting too?" Took their time-

Brick isn't a villain anymore, but she's mean, she's sarcastic and she's soft for her girlfriend (And she steals her clothes)

Blossom has the need of being perfect bc if she isn't "How could she be seen as a leader? A heroine? Would they even like her?" But with Brick she can forget about it, laugh hard and complain about the people she dislikes (Brick thinks she should just destroy something and let her burn them)

Some people told them not to mess with political stuff, but not taking a side was taking a side- so they figth againts conservative laws bc they care about the future of lgbtq+ kids (and adults)

They. Get. Their. Happy. Ending.

#ppg #ppg headcanons #will add more #blossick #just tagging them bc I focus more of them #again they are one of my otps so-#but I love the three ships #I have more headcanons

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frisbs · 1 year

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Heya i just read your latest requested Harrow fic and i really love it. Could you do another one with story of Jake being best friend with Reader, but not knowing she's Harrow's lover until he took him to the limo and the reader suprised that Harrow was Jake's target of assasination this whole time?

Jake felt a weight lift from his chest as the waiter laid a hot plate of burger and fries on the table in front of him. He pinched several fries between thumb and forefinger and drowned them in the bakelite ketchup cup before stuffing the salt and vinegar in his mouth.

It’d been a hard fucking week and it was burger time.

Across the table Ky sat, expression vacant. Jake frowned, licked the salt from his fingers and wiped them off.

“You’re fucked up, Ky, and you’re not talking about it,” he announced, folding his hands across the table.

She looked up, seeing him for the first time since they’d both sat down, and he contemplated the burger; the steam dissipating from the shining meat, turning the bun soggy. He thought about offering it to her, and decided: no fucking way. Furtively, he met her gaze, and hid the flinch in his chest at the anxiety in her expression. He wasn’t good with feelings, at least he didn’t think of himself that way, and this looked like it was going there quick.

“Yeah, I guess I am,” she said, her voice high and airy and self-deprecating, probably so it wouldn’t hitch. “Can we talk about...can we talk about something else.”

Jake rolled an eye and angled his head at the interior of the railcar diner. “Nice place. You know I haven’t been on a real train in like fifteen years?”

“What?” Ky laughed, though it sounded half like a sob. “That can’t be true. You never take public transit?”

“Yeah I know, it doesn’t make any damn sense.” He lapsed into silence, reaching for something, falling into old patterns. It was easy to complain. “You know, I had a shit week too. My boss, you know, he’s a real hardass. Complaining like...” He tried to think of something reasonable. “Like a real backseat driver, you know? Slow down, speed up, don’t get mud on the carpet.”

He faltered, seeing that he was losing her.

“Is this about a guy?” he guessed, and bullseye, she looked away. Damn, of course it was.

He didn’t spend a lot of time thinking about those things himself, at least, tried not to, tried to be respectful with Ky. It wasn’t like that with the two of them. They just both really liked cats. And greasy spoons with strong coffee. And crazy sci-fi pulp mags. And whether he was on one side of the Atlantic or the other, they just kept running into each other. It would have been creepy if they both weren’t so embarrassed every time it happened. At first Jake had felt like he was getting framed for stalking charges by Satan himself, but Ky was actually alright with it, could tell he wasn’t deliberately being a creep, and they just agreed there had to be a glitch in the Matrix, or some stupid god having a laugh with them.

In any case, he’d guessed Ky was set up. A person this straightlaced and smart and charming would be a catch. And he didn’t want to get close enough to challenge the good impressions she’d formed of him. So he avoided the subject.

Ky licked her lips and nodded bleakly as the waiter returned and gave her whip cream-garnished waffles with fruit. “Yeah, um. Something happened about a month ago...there was a bit of a fight, and then I never saw him again. I’d have filed a police report, but I thought maybe he didn’t want to see me.”

Something twisted inside Jake. “Shit,” he said. “He’s still missing?”

“No, I tracked him down,” she said, her voice going high again, throat constricting. “He was in a mental hospital here in the city.”

Jake blinked, trying to keep the burger in focus.

“Did he get—” Jake blinked hard. “He had a mental breakdown? I have,” he stopped himself, not sure where the words were coming from, his throat suddenly dry. “That shit’s no joke.”

Ky looked at him strangely, then her expression grew withdrawn. “Anyway, I finally filed a police report, because the facility had lost him. And turns out, they had his body.”

“What?”

“The police had his body. Someone killed him.”

Jake felt the room receding around him. Ky’s voice called to him from an incredible distance as his vision tunneled.

Hey, someone said. Where the hell are we?

Jake blinked and shook his head. “Sorry. Um, shit. Are you? —Sorry, that’s stupid—you’re not okay—I’m so sorry Ky.”

He felt like half his brain was devastated for Ky while the other half was climbing up the walls and peeling off its own skin wondering if it was possible that the thing that had tied them together over these months had somehow been this. A job he hadn’t even known about until a few days ago. A job he still didn’t understand. But he could still feel the pain in the chest where those two bullets had entered. So he hadn’t sweated too hard about returning the favor.

“Thanks,” she mumbled. “I mean he was into some strange stuff. It was dangerous sometimes and when he first disappeared I did wonder if something like that could have happened. But the idea that he was walking around, not even in his own mind, and someone took advantage of him. I just wish someone had been looking out for him. I wish I had found him sooner.”

Jake shook his head. “Me too.” He picked up the burger mechanically and bit into it.

Ky fiddled with the knife on the table. “Sorry. This is all pretty fucked up.”

Jake eyed the knife as he chewed. He swallowed. “Feel any better, with that off your chest?”

She tilted her head, shrugging. “Guess so. I really haven’t been able to talk to anyone about this.”

A shudder ran through Jake. “Yeah well. Me neither.”

Her fingers curled absently around the knife and he realized how stupid he was, how utterly deluded to think that this could be his moment of absolution too.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

He swallowed. “This guy. His name was Arthur Harrow?”

Ky sat a little straighter in the chair. That was all the answer he needed. He toyed with the idea of putting on the armor.

“What?”

He took another bite of the burger, meeting her gaze, watching something ignite in there, fury and confusion. He set the burger down, his hand shook a little, and she noticed.

“I say this because I value honesty,” he began. Not that it mattered anymore. Not that he’d have anything left after this. “Your Harrow shot me first.”

She pressed against the seat back, coiled, the knife clenched upright now.

“I had no idea he was yours,” Jake blurted as Ky lunged across the table, scattering the food. He pinned her wrist down and she froze. “I’m so damn sorry for whatever you had with that man. Whatever I took from you. Really. But he murdered me first.”

“Is that...supposed to be funny?” To his surprise, Ky’s posture relaxed and he let her pull away into the aisle of the dinner. The knife clattered to the floor and he silently toed it away from her.

“No.”

“You had to know...you were planning this,” she muttered, flustered and confused. “I don’t—Stay the hell away from me—and get some fucking help. Goddamn creep!”

“I had no idea,” he said softly to her back as he watched her stalk out the door. His fingers curled hard against the edge of the table.

“Maybe I do need help,” he murmured, his throat tightening in rage and grief. He let the darkness swallow him up.

(Thank you for the request! In this version of Jake I imagine he isn't aware of the rest of the system, in denial of his own mental health issues.)

#moon knight #jake lockley #moon knight fic #harrow #arthur harrow #requests #fan fic requests #diner jake lockley #cw: stalking #cw: violence

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lea-andres · 1 year

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How do you decide how long a chapter will be? I ask as some of your chapters like like 9k!

Short answer: I... Don't. 😅

Long answer: (Spoilers to WtDMtN ahead!)

I know the beats that need to happen in each chapter. I'm gonna spoil an upcoming chapter to kinda walk you through the method to my madness, but I'll lay out the beats like this:

Chapter 9. Girl in the Tower

-It's very obviously going to thunderstorm today. The sky's dark, a cool breeze is blowing, there's that 'it's gonna storm today' feeling to the air.

-Jewel's fussing over the neatness of her flat, for an unknown reason. She mumbles at one point about how she hopes it starts raining before the fights end today. We don't know why she's so wound up yet.

-We jump ahead to the fights. Jewel isn't sitting with the others. She's hovering down by the on deck area talking with Bark as they watch Tangle fight Rouge. They get talking about Bark's opponent today: Storm. Jewel starts to tell the story of that time Storm threw her against a wall, but doesn't get to finish before Storm wanders over.

-Jewel hastily retreats, still spooked of Storm. Storm apologizes to Bark for 'what he did to his girl', vaguely explaining that when your boss tells you to toss someone out, ya gotta do it. There was no hard feelings. He then offers that they can get even: If Storm gets a romantic partner, Bark can throw them, no fuss or complaining. Bark is VERY confused by the topic.

-They have their scheduled fight. Bark wins.

-It has started to storm at this point.

-Jewel stops Bark from leaving, hastily and anxiously explaining that he shouldn't walk back to his hotel in the rain because he could get sick. The Museum's closer, they could hang out in her flat and wait out the storm. Bark's confused by her concern, because he's a polar bear a summer storm isn't going to get him sick, but he elects not to bring that up and accept Jewel's invitation instead.

-They run back to the Museum. They get soaked in the process.

-Jewel gets Bark some towels so he can dry off and goes to change. She offers he can put something on the TV if he wants while he waits.

-Bark finds the King's Quest game Jewel was playing still on her TV from the last time she was playing it.

-Jewel's embarrassed he found it, but explains what it is. Bark suggests they play it, because he'd like to see Jewel's favorite game. She eagerly starts over from the beginning so he can get the Full Experience™.

-During the opening sailing cutscene that takes a million years, they get horribly distracted. Jewel finishes telling the story of the time Storm threw her against the wall, and that conversation transitions to [REDACTED BECAUSE SPOILERS I DO NOT WANT TO GIVE THIS PART AWAY EARLY]. The game interrupts them.

-Jewel makes Bark take the controls while she gives guidance when he gets stuck. Bark initially fears he's too stupid for a puzzle game, but with Jewel's encouragement he finds he's pretty decent at figuring out the puzzles. He also finds the main character's struggles very relatable... For the most part.

-The rain has calmed down, but not stopped. They order takeout while Jewel has to take over for an extremely bullshit puzzle they got to.

-Jewel tricks Bark into dying in a bullshit manner, resulting in a brief wrestle/tickle fight in retaliation. [MORE SPOILERS HOLY SHIT TWO MOMENTS HAPPEN HERE I DON'T WANT TO REVEAL YET]

-They hit the point in the game where you could get the easy ending instead of the true ending. Jewel offers that she could steer Bark to the easy ending and they could end the game sooner. Bark declines: he wants to see the full thing.

-Bark's incredibly relieved this portion of the game isn't too relatable to his situation LMAO.

-They finish the game, and Bark realizes the end credits have a cheesy early 90s love ballad duet. (The very one the chapter gets its name from LMAO) he and Jewel laugh like idiots at it and lovingly butcher the thing singing along obnoxiously and mimicking the singers.

-The storm has gotten bad again. Jewel offers Bark can crash in her guest room. He accepts... but can't fall asleep right away. He's stuck thinking about the [SPOILERS] part of the game on a loop, and how much he feels that moment RIGHT NOW.

Once I have my beats, I fill them out. This is where my maladaptive daydreaming comes into play. I think about my fic constantly, and the scenes play out in my head like a movie or a stage play. Actions, descriptions, even sometimes the dialogue is already figured out, I just gotta get it transcribed (that's the hard part lol). Anything that didn't come to me in the daydreaming gets made up on the spot.

And then I connect the dots. Where are we having a cut in the action to jump to a new scene, or what actions need to occur to take the characters from Beat A to Beat B and so on? This is also quite hard because I don't imagine these as frequently as the meat of the scenes LMAO.

And then somewhere along the lines of all of this it all gets insanely long and I have an almost 10k long chapter. 😂😭

Are there more coherent methods to do this? Yes. Would it help me to try to trim it down, or tackle it in chunks? Probably. But sadly this weird brain doesn't seem to work that way. 😔

#lea's a dumbass #when the day met the night

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recreancyrpg · 2 years

Photo

BASICS.

NAME. Pandora Malfoy AGE. 27 ALUMNI HOUSE. Ravenclaw BLOOD STATUS. Half-blood FACECLAIM. Aleksandra Bortich

HISTORY.

Expected yet unexpected, Pandora’s birth marked a time of transition for the Malfoy family. Her father Alcaeus was the youngest twin with her uncle Abraxas having served as the heir and the one to strictly follow familial expectations. It was decided Alcaeus would be permitted to wed a half-blood the family approved of despite knowing it would “ruin” a secondary branch of the family tree. The marriage resulted in the two having one child. A daughter with a fiery temper that couldn’t be quelled by her grandparents’ attempts in turning her into a proper young lady. The child came into the world earlier than expected and arrived with the cost of her mother being informed she would not be able to have more children. Where the birth had the mother and her child at risk, the family was grateful to have had both make it out mostly unscathed. Trademarked Malfoy blonde hair and bluish-gray eyes, the infant was named Pandora Alcmene. The two names meant all gifts and strength of the moon and were decidedly fitting for the small child from day one of her arrival in her parents’ lives.

Pandora’s upbringing was unconventional at best. Where her cousin was pigeonholed into the role of heir and the expectations that accompanied that, she was taught to value her independence and the traits that made her unique. The family spent minimal time with her extended relatives and made it seven years before the not-so-subtle differences in their daughter’s upbringing reared their head. Lucius made the mistake of calling Pandora’s friend a mudblood and the rest went down in a history of the tiny girl tackling them to the ground and throwing punches until forcibly removed by her uncle. They weren’t welcomed back to holiday dinners after that and the family thought little of being erased from the Malfoy narrative.

Sorted into Ravenclaw, Pandora’s thirst for knowledge should have been dimmed by the countless books Hogwarts’s library had available. Instead, the inquisitive teen made a point to set aside time to chat with the ghosts and explore the “abnormal” parts of the castle to strengthen her knowledge of the school. She had a few acquaintances and was used to people distancing themselves since it wasn’t common practice to have a weekly tea date with the Grey Lady. She didn’t mind it so much as long as it didn’t turn into people poking fun at her to her face.

Upon turning seventeen, Pandora was shocked to discover her parents secured the little bit of money that had been put into her bank account by her grandparents when she was younger. It covered purchasing a house and not much else. She can’t complain since it left her open to freelancing as a charm and curse specialist for questionable patrons (the Order included under that umbrella) and can afford using a jewelry stall at Nightscare Market as her main source of income.

CONNECTIONS.

XENOPHILIUS LOVEGOOD. There is no explaining what first drew Pandora to them but she is grateful to have them in her life. They have a good connection and are used to each other’s tendencies at this point — something she is extra happy about now since it means having someone she can rely on when things seem tough. JOHN DAWLISH. John is a lot. High-strung, irritable, and all too easy of a target in Pandora’s eyes. And that’s exactly what makes bothering him so much fun for her. If it doesn’t involve trying to engage him in a discussion about Nargles, it’s her chatting up a storm around him until he cracks and asks her to stop. Please. ROBYN LYNCH. They do a lot of the same things, if you look at it from a certain angle: both picking magic apart, to figure out how it works, how to make it better. But they have very very different approaches — and ideas of acceptable costs. Pandora wonders sometimes if Robyn looks down on her for being a tinkerer...but she also wonders if she necessarily respects Robyn for what she does, either.

PANDORA IS TAKEN.

#marauders rp #hp rp #marauders rpg #pandora malfoy bio #character bio #half blood #ravenclaw #taken

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forgottenyear · 1 month

Text

[I wrote most of this earlier. I wandered in and out of dissociation throughout. I thought this would be something easy to talk about. I always think it will be easy.]

(the previous was obviously not the trigger warning I intended it to be, sorry)

[tw: sex, sexuality, unwanted sexual attention, rape, CSA, gender dysphoria, body dysphoria]

(I hope that covers it. I hope it covers the whole fucking lot of it.)

Apparently, this is the point where I loop back over the subject of gender.

I told a friend that if I could look like her, I would transition. Just half an hour later, another friend reblogged the poll about certainty of one’s gender.

If I could look like my friend, I would immediately go out to wherever people could see me, and I would revel in not being seen. And I would probably be traumatized quickly, because this friend was complaining that her body is overly sexualized.

What I like most about the body I have is that I can blend into the background. I do not attract attention. It has been rare for anyone to be overtly attracted to this body [in my time] (mostly, people are attracted to our heart and mind, and the body is not an objectionable container).

What I hate most about this body is that it is suspect, understandably and necessarily so. I must always expect to be perceived as wanting sexual gratification and as unwilling to accept “no” for an answer. I hate that I cannot just be a human being among human beings.

Angela was fetishized. I cannot cope with that.

From what my friend says, her body is also fetishized.

In both cases, our culture leans toward victim blaming. “If you would dress to express extreme shame and loathing for your body, maybe then you would not be asking for it.”

My friend is a wonderful person. I got to know her before I saw her photos. I struggled for a while with whether I should unfollow, after I saw her selfies. Living as a middle-aged man, people assume I am on tumblr for one reason – the same reason my friend copes with every day. My friend does not dress to express extreme shame and loathing for her body, so people assume she is asking for it.

My brain goes offline. I am not asexual, but maybe that is part of the problem. I traumatize myself, possibly more often than I realize.

The mere perception of anyone fetishizing anyone else – against their will – sends me into dissociation. It does not matter which “anyone” I could be in a given perception,

I am not sure what I am writing anymore. I want a body that cannot be fetishized, although I am sure someone out there would find that sexy. I want a body with no trace of sexuality. I want to be able to talk with my friends without anyone concluding I am just a desperate sexual organ trying my chances with what I perceive to be another sexual organ.

I do not like the connotations behind a middle-aged man talking with a young woman. I do not like that I had to risk these implications to offer the support I feel a friend needed. I do not like that If I said the wrong thing, my effort could have produced the opposite result and made her feel still more sexualized.

My friend was grateful for what I wrote (anonymously) and said that she felt “seen.”

I think it is obvious that I am pretty messed up right now.

I saw a need to validate a friend’s humanity.

I would do it again without hesitation. It has to be done.

But I also know the times it was not done.

And that is what has me shaking and crying and feeling nauseous.

The times when this body was not human in the eyes of others.

That we were too bad, too stupid, and too worthless for anyone to care.

That we were "obviously asking for it."

Angela’s time was years before my friend from today was born. People like Angela were not human beings. Angela was a diagnosis in a psychiatric hospital (Gender Identity Confusion). Angela was just a homosexual who got confused by the clothes he wore to attract men to satiate his deviant wantonness.

Angela had to travel two states away, to find company with other such deviants. We had to go to gay bars because we would not be allowed entry anywhere else. We risked arrest on charges of vice. We had to go as a group for safety in numbers. Even the gay waiters in the gay bar were disgusted with us.

And when Angela got what she was “asking for,” there was nothing we could do about it. Telling anyone would require admitting we left the safety of acceptable society to keep company with inhuman deviants.

We were already the family scapegoat. A liar.

We had already, at a much too early age, employed our wanton deviousness to lead the father astray by looking too much like our sister.

In writing to a friend, I wrote to this body and to its occupants.

As much of my heart as I put into the words I wrote to a friend, the words fail to be heard by us. They are too little, too late. We heard no such words in the long months we spent in the hospitals.

We were kept and we were stared at, this boy who looked like a girl.

In ordinary circumstances I do not interact much with my friend. We are not that close, either here or irl (five time-zones difference, I believe).

But when I read what she wrote this morning, their need was right here, in front of me.

Their need is my need. Is Our need.

I know this person well enough to know that they needed someone to say something, to do something, many times in the past.

If I can be there. If I know. I cannot remain idle. I cannot be exactly what they need, and I may always be too little and too late, but I cannot look away.

How failed a human being can look away?

[maybe TMI]

I am ashamed that I am covertly hypersexual (alone), but I frequently dissociate during, and never finish.

Can it be more complicated?

Yes. Apparently, it can.

I have seminal fluid hypersensitivity. I am allergic to myself (and others, we discovered the hard way) (with our first boyfriend) (it does not help a guy’s ego to learn that his junk makes you sick) (we so wanted to prove ourselves and ended up embarrassed and ashamed instead). Without care, and sometimes with, I can be burned, inside and out. The burns can last an hour or two before they fade into mild discomfort.

Since the allergy is not limited to the finish (much to our boyfriend’s disappointment), I sometimes dissociate to where I do not take the necessary care, and then I have an hour or two to wallow in my burning shame.

The allergic burns may have lead to the breaking of the amnesia. There were many other events at that time, but an allergic reaction to a cooking oil bore a strong resemblance to the burns we experienced after the rape, and in locations my heterosexual lifestyle has not replicated.

This has been exhausting.

The subject of gender is a direct link to trauma.

The subject of sexuality is a direct link to trauma.

Both are burdened with heavy shame.

Both also appear to be ongoing arguments within the system.

I write that I am ambivalent about my gender and would sooner leave well enough alone – and with no awareness of contradiction, because there is none in the moments of writing – I write that I would transition in a heartbeat if I could have every hint of maleness removed. I know both statements are true. [I forgot that I have also written that I would like to have all sexuality removed from the body.] [Or just the body itself.]

I think I will write a simple thing, and then my head explodes.

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abrushwithdeath · 4 months

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🎉❤️ obviously he can't let his girl not get a new year's kiss

@lediableblanc-amoureuxdechats

It's not like they hadn't already spent a good portion of the evening stealing kisses, obviously, but once 11pm hit, there were no more kisses to be had. Not until midnight, at least. Anna Marie had declared as such just a few minutes past ten because she wanted that kiss at midnight to feel... a little more special, maybe? Actually, she wasn't sure what she'd been thinking and, by the time 11:30 rolled around she was already regretting it. (Who knew an hour could be so damn long?)

She supposed she could have rolled back her decision part way through the hour. She doubted that Remy would complain (though he might tease her some about it). But she was stubborn. Even when she was a little bit tipsy, and even when Remy was pressed so close she could feel the brush of his stubble against her cheek- she was still stubborn. No kisses. She could hold back. Just for the hour, she could hold back. They'd gone so long without kissing before all this that she'd thought it would be easy. Clearly, she was wrong.

But midnight would come eventually. And with it, the start of a new year. To some, that meant a chance to change. An excuse to try to flip their lives right side up and get their shit together. For some, when they inevitably slipped up a month or two in, they'd say to themselves "there's always next year" and fall back into the same patterns as always. Maybe that's why Anna Marie rarely thought of this transition as something so transformative. The calendar reset to "01/01", but your life kept right on chugging along like nothing had changed. It was all in your head. So why not make the effort to make changes on March 12th? Or June 22nd? Or even November 8th at 10pm with a whiskey sour in one hand and blind optimism curled in the palm of the other?

A glance at the clock post-conversation with Logan and Ororo suggested she only needed to wait out 7 more minutes before she'd be kissing him again. Yet she hadn't even though to ask him about what this all meant to him until right here, right now, the ice clinking in the now slightly watered down alcohol at the bottom of her glass. "Got any New Year's resolutions?" She asked Remy, reaching up to brush the satin of her glove along the slope of his jaw. Even through the thin fabric of the glove, she could feel the light prickle of his not-quite-so-freshly shaven facial hair against the pads of her fingers. It sent a little tingle through her. The thought of her lips, her teeth, brushing against the same path her fingers were now following...

Her only resolution was a long standing one, not something that came new and fresh with the changing of the year. She wanted to get this fully under control. She wanted to be able to touch every inch of him, to press her naked body against his. Nothing left between them. But it was more than that: she wanted to let some of the fear go. It would never leave her entirely, she was sure- you don't live as long as she has playing it careful just for that anxiety to disappear overnight. It was about controlling her powers some, yeah, but it was a lot about the mental work, too. And the mental work was a bitch. So she supposed she wouldn't beat herself up over it if the end of this coming year saw her without full control. Still, though, it was a nice thought to think that by the time 2025 rolled in, she'd have it figure out. She told Remy as such, too. Not because he ever pressured her, but because this was something that was entirely within her reach, she thought. "This year, I'm gonna play optimistic. Ain't served me none in the past to be broodin', right? And I suppose ya've proven ya ain't goin' nowhere..." She tapped her finger against his lips with that.

3 minutes to midnight.

"Guess we'll jus' strap in an' see where the years leads," Then, just to tease him some. "Could strap-on, too, if yer willin'..." The words were blatant enough, she didn't need to explain any further. Though she did follow them with a soft chuckle, even if it wasn't intended to detract from the seriousness of her words. After all, it's not like they hadn't discussed it before.

The final countdown started up soon after and she didn't hesitate to get a grip on his tie and tug him nice and close. Her green eyes locked on the red of his and she swore she could feel the sound, the rhythm, of every second tapping inside of her like a living thing. If they'd come this far in a year, she wondered how much further they could make it with another to follow. And hopefully another after that. And plenty more even beyond then.

"5!" Her fingers tightened their grip on that tie just a bit. "4!" And she was leaning up a bit with anticipation. "3!" Every nerve was a live wire- like there was electricity crackling in her veins. "2!" Last year's kiss had been short lived. Much shorter than either would have liked. "1!" This year, though? This year, he'd be hard pressed to get her to stop.

She slipped her arms around his neck and pressed herself up against him as their lips met. Forget everything and everyone else. Nothing beyond them existed. At least not for now. She hoped he'd caught his breath beforehand because Anna Marie had no plans on letting him actually stop anytime, soon. Not with the way she was kissing him right now with fingers in his hair and lips parting. She was gonna keep this up until her lungs were screaming or her powers kicked in. Whichever happened first. And, much to her surprise, it was the need to catch her breath that had won out. (It made her wonder just how much more she could do when she wasn't letting herself worry or overthink it all too much...)

The next kiss was smaller, a quick little kiss to accompany a now long overdue "Happy New Year". One which was soon followed by the reminder that they were still, upsettingly, not all alone. Though it was good that they were near the back of the room- she didn't much like the idea of winding up as the center of attention. "Whatcha say we get outta here? Ring in the New Year in a more... excitin' way..."

#lediableblanc amoureuxdechats #v; ''i cannot hide myself from you. i cannot hide my heart from my heart.'' // lediableblanc amoureuxdechats #((Well this ended up being much much longer than I intended. Oops xD))#reply

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briamichellewrites · 10 months

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“Mike, how does it end?”

He looked at Brian confused, as he sat down next to his bedside. How does what end? He heard him and his father talking about a dream they had. They didn’t know. Did he want to hear about it? Yes. Okay, he started from the beginning. The last time he fell asleep, he had not transitioned and he had a four-year-old daughter named Stephanie. Though, they called her Stevie. He was walking across the country to raise awareness about child abuse and he had just left.

They found out he was the biological daughter of Prince Andrew, the Duke of York. He, his father, and Stevie flew out to London to meet him and the queen. His father was fighting to keep him and Stevie with him until he turned eighteen. The palace wanted them both to move to wherever as soon as possible. At the time, he was around fifteen years old.

In the second dream, he was a single mother at eighteen to a four-year-old girl. Her name was also Stephanie. They lived in a government-subsidized apartment building and had to live on government assistance. He took them in because she was working at the label as their assistant. One day, his father walked in and announced he was his father. That was where the second dream ended. The third dream was where they were currently at.

“That’s a lot. Stephanie is such a great name. So is Stevie.”

“You named her after Stevie Nicks.”

He laughed. “That’s awesome!”

If he woke up again, things would be different. Yeah, it would be. It was like he was in an indefinite time loop, like Donnie Darko. Without the giant rabbit. He had never seen that movie. It was awesome! He laughed. After taking a nap, Brian was feeling a little better and not as nauseous. The fluid drip was helping a lot. Dave excused himself to get coffee for them while they waited for him to wake up. That was ten minutes ago.

Mike didn’t know what would happen next in the time loop. Maybe it was indefinite. Did that mean there was no way to break it? He hoped he would meet Brian or Bria again. Did that mean he had to die for it to reset? If it did, he hoped it didn’t mean he lost him forever. Dave would always be there but Brian? He didn’t know.

The following morning, he was woken up to prepare for surgery. The doctor came in and gave them an overview of what was going to happen. He also answered any last-minute questions. They then went down to the operating room, where they hugged him and told him they loved him. He loved them, too. Dave gave him a fist bump before he was wheeled through the double doors. It was going to be a very long and difficult six hours. Elisa texted them saying she and Brad were on their way.

Dave put his hand on his shoulder and told him everything was going to be okay. He nodded as he pulled him into a hug. Thank you. They were both scared but they had to be strong. As they were about to sit down, they were greeted by Brad and Elisa. They exchanged hugs with them and they congratulated them on the pregnancy. Thank you. They then sat down. How was he doing?

“Brian is Brian. He has a great attitude about everything, even though he’s terrified”, Dave said.

“Does he ever complain”, Elisa asked.

“He has an attitude sometimes, which is normal for kids his age. Besides that, no. Not really”, Mike replied.

They were very lucky because he was an easy kid. He did mention that he wasn’t scared of death. What he was worried about was how it would affect them, namely his father. At almost twenty-one years old, he was too young to die from heart disease. They wanted him to live until he was in his forties. Unfortunately, it wasn’t up to them.

Brian was fast asleep and couldn’t feel anything as they opened his chest. A nurse anesthetist watched his vitals while the surgeon was handed tools. It was a very risky procedure and everything had to be perfect to prevent the patient from dying, suffering serious injuries or complications. That was why the surgery took so long. They found the arteries that were blocked by plaque. Carefully, they removed it. While they were looking at his heart, they noticed a tumor.

They took a tissue sample for testing. It was possible he didn’t know it existed. Once they were done, the doctor went out to the family to give them the news. In the waiting room, he approached Mike and asked if he could speak with them privately. Yeah. All four of them grabbed their stuff and followed the doctor into an empty office.

They sat down in the chairs while the door was closed behind them for privacy. The surgery was successful and without complications. Brian was in a recovery room waking up from the anesthesia. They were relieved to hear that! He then mentioned that they found a tumor. There was a chance it was noncancerous. They removed some of the tissue and were having it tested. He would let them know when they had the results.

Cancer. He had been through so much already. They didn’t want him to go through more than he already was. Brian was tired when they came to visit him. They carefully hugged him. How was he feeling? It felt like he had taken a very long nap. They laughed.

“There is something we need to talk to you about but we will let you fully wake up first”, Mike said.

“I have a gnarly scar. It looks fucking awesome!”

“I think you’re still a little high”, Dave joked.

“Gnarly.”

“Is that your new word for awesome”, Brad asked.

“I’m going to the beach when I get out of here. Maybe Matt will be there.”

That sounded fun. They were all amused by how high he was. He had no idea what the hell was going on. The drugs were slowly leaving his body. It would take a full twenty-four hours for him to be back to normal. Until then, he would be carefully monitored by nurses. His heart was beating. They could see the lines on the monitor. Up. Down. Up. Down. His breathing was also normal. It was going to take a long recovery for him, but he was tough. They learned not to underestimate him.

While they waited for him to wake up, they talked about his father. Brad was denying needing help. Mike and Dave were there for him while being very careful to not enable his addiction. They would not buy or give him alcohol. They also would not give him money to buy alcohol. If they found alcohol in his house, they confiscated it right away. Angelina trapped him by getting pregnant.

Now, he had no way out. If he left her, he risked losing his daughter. What was happening to him? He was being abused – physically and mentally. That led him to start drinking. The more she abused him, the further he sank into his addiction.

What about Brian? He wanted nothing to do with him and his drinking. It was very hard on him because he didn’t understand. Because of his health, they protected him. Probably more than they should. Brad and Elisa could tell why they wanted to protect him, though they warned them to be careful. He could become very upset if he found out that they weren’t telling him the truth about his father. They understood that. They would tell him after he recovered from surgery.

@zoeykaytesmom @feelingsofaithless @alina-dixon @fiickle-nia @boricuacherry-blog

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lumlync · 1 year

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Do You Believe A Woman Should Marry A Guy Without A Job?

Do you believe a woman ought to marry a guy without a job?

I think a woman would and should marry an unemployed man. Why not if she met him while he was unemployed and fell in love with him?

After getting married and leaving the military, I was a stay-at-home husband and father for quite some time. After my wife gave birth to our son, I got a job a few months later. But when I noticed she was getting depressed, I told her to go back to work, and I would stay home with the baby. It was easy for us to make that transition because I had more experience with children and I wanted to start an online business.

For nine years, I was a stay-at-home father. When he got older, I occasionally worked as a temp, but mostly I was a stay-at-home father. I heard all the old clichés about how a real man would go to work while his wife would stay home and care for the house and children.

Sometimes it got to me. But the thing is, it worked for us. I even started an online business while staying home. People were still talking about how the man was supposed to be the sole provider. But again, it is what worked for us, and it definitely did financially.

My issue is that, as a society, there are far more issues to be concerned about than who will be the breadwinner in someone else’s relationship. We should worry about where the next piece of bread will come from. Too many people talk about how things should be between men and women. Each of them should recognize what they want before telling someone else what they want from them.

They should be honest about who they are and what they have to bring to the relationship. This way, the opportunity is there for them to walk away from each other before going further. This way, they will have nothing to complain about or pass judgment on.

#Love #self love #friendship #connection #moneyisnoteverything #money #work #relationship

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bwohlhuter · 2 years

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Slow it down...

Baseball season has officially ended, so we have some more free time on our hands. What a whirlwind of a sports season! You start in the middle of May and then you have 4 games a week until the end of June or beginning of July. Baseball is the last sport of the kids’ year so it really marks the last stage in a life journey. Seniors are off to college and kids in high school are off to their next grade.

I’ve been thinking a lot about life transitions. I recently went through a job transition. The transition has been good, and it has been harder than anticipated. I’ve watched friends go through life transitions themselves, and with their kids. Marriages, births, deaths, kids leaving for college, illnesses, new houses, new jobs, new pets, and the list is endless. What I have been thinking a lot about is how much we look towards the next thing in life. Do we ever really slow down and simply be in the moment?

As a kid you are always looking forward to the next life stage...double digits in age, driving age, 18, graduating high school, 21, graduating college, job, possibly marriage and children. Seems like there are endless milestones to get to and you can’t wait to get to each one. I saw a cartoon once that said: the dumbest thing I wished for as a kid was to be an adult! I suppose with these milestones there come more opportunities and more responsibilities. Many of the rights of passage for a kid revolve around age so there is a natural looking forward to the next big thing.

What happens when you become an adult? You still have the milestone birthdays, but they usually come at the start of a new decade...30, 40, 50, 60, retirement, 70, 80...etc. Besides retirement, the age doesn’t really change much in our lives. Well, besides the obvious signs of getting older. I think we adults get too caught up in looking ahead and we miss the here and now. If you have kids, have you ever heard a parent of grown children tell you how fast it goes?

I watched a video of a coach, Kara Lawson from Duke, talking to her team about handling the hard better. In a nutshell she states that life is hard, the next stage isn’t going to be easier, and we need to handle hard better. A quote she says, “...if you have a meaningful pursuit in life, it will never be easy.” What I took from that video and what I’ve been thinking about is: we think when life gets easier then we’ll really enjoy it or we’ll do that thing we’ve been putting off. When I get that next job, when that bill is paid, when I just get some time to settle down, when the kids leave for college, when my back feels better. Whatever it is, we seem to either be looking forward to the next stage or we are complaining about where we are now. We miss so much of what’s happening now that life does seem to fly right past us.

I don’t know the answer to slowing yourself down, to quieting your soul, and being more in the moment. I’m as guilty as anyone of putting things off for when life is easier or simply looking forward to the next stage. I know there’s a reason Jesus stopped whatever he was doing numerous times to pray and to rest. He knew enjoying life, embracing the suck and handling the hard required connecting with God through prayer and rest for our mental and physical bodies. Maybe that’s the secret. If the Son of God needed to stop and rest and pray we should try a that a bit more too. I bet if we do, we’ll handle the hard better and find ourselves more mindful and be able to enjoy the moment. Don’t wait to do that thing that scares you or you really want to do. Life isn’t going to get easier, the timing will never be prefect. Just do it with God’s help and you’ll be alright. Life might be hard, but it can be handled better with some help.

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forbidding-souda · 3 years

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... headcanons for Nagito, Hajime, and Shuichi with a fem!reader who likes it when he lays on her chest/stomach even if she's shorter than him because she finds the feeling of his weight on her comforting? if you'd rather do a gender neutral reader that's fine too

Nagito Komaeda, Hajime Hinata, and Shuichi Saihara with a fem S/O who likes it when they lay on her

my clsssses start tomorrow as i'm writing thisn wowowwow i get free public transit from the school too and free access to the library whaaatt crazy

-Mod Souda

Nagito Komaeda

❤ He was originally very nervous to touch you. In the beginning of the relationship, there was a lot of am I not enough?

❤ But once he let himself cuddle with you, he realizes that it was okay. And that he loved it.

❤ He will take every opportunity to rest his eyes against your chest. Sometimes, like a cat, he'll force himself into your lap and just nuzzle his head into you. And you better play with his hair when he does.

❤ It doesn't matter if you're on your computer. He will find a way to fit himself into the equation.

❤ Now that he's in love with laying on you, it's going to be hard to try to lay on him. Ever want a break? No. He will flip you over and rest on your stomach. Sometimes, when you wake up, you'll ever find him upside down - his legs by your head and his face on your stomach.

❤ Whenever he's sick, he's going to want to sleep on you. Being on you mean he can feel your heart beat. And somehow... it makes him feel worthy.

❤ It reminds him that you're living, and that you genuinely like him back.

❤ It's something he never imagined he'd find comforting.

❤ Sometimes, he'll plop his head so aggressively down on your boobs that it sends a ripple of pain throughout your chest.

Hajime Hinata

❤ He would much rather have you on top of him. It makes an easy gateway to wrestling you, too. He loves play fighting.

❤ But on days where he doesn't feel too good, sure, he'll lay on you.

❤ This man is heavy. So you best feel crushed if he fully goes on top of you.

❤ You can play with his hair, scratch his back, do whatever. Once you're in that position with him, it's about completely possible to have him agree to do anything you want.

❤ He mumble cute petnames into your shirt as he dozzes off to sleep. Who knew he could go unconscious so quickly when being with you? It's a bit alarming. And now you can't move. This isn't too bad.

❤ He definitely wakes up before you - and he's gone the moment you wake up. He'll either be making breakfast or standing in front of you, adjusting his tie.

❤ And he'll get a little defensive if you bring up the sleeping position. Hajime? Sleeping ontop of his girlfriend? No, no way. Totally definitely not possible.

Shuichi Saihara

❤ Is dreadfully hyper aware of your boobs. He doesn't want to hurt you - or touch them and make you uncomfortable. His cheeks will be bright red whenever he lays on you.

❤ That being said, he much prefers to lay on your stomach. One of his secrets is the fact that he actually enjoys listening to the sounds your body make.

❤ He doesn't really prefer to be the big spoon too much. He likes to feel cared for. He'd want to cuddle right into your arms and put all of his weight onto your body for you to hold.

❤ Late at night, when you're already sleeping, he'll sneak up into bed and under the covers to lay on top of you.

❤ Sometimes, you wake up before him and feel trapped. I've got to pee, Shuichi, you'll complain in your head, trying not to wake him.

❤ Sometimes pushing him off of you and watching him abruptly wake up is awfully hilarious.

❤ Being more often, seeing him at peace, with a content look on his face is more satisfying.

❤ He'll definitely not mind cuddling up to you like that in other places, like couches or sleeping bags.

❤ It's one of his favorite positions.

#nagito komaeda imagines #nagito komaeda x reader #hajime hinata imagines #hajime hinata x reader #shuichi saihara x reader #shuichi saihara

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myonepiece · 3 years

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Hi can I please ask for some headcanons of Ace and Shanks having feelings for a fem!S/O but they always reject their advances etc. until she decides to move on/leave because she’s heartbroken and thinks she’ll never be loved back;; like what would they do? tysm💜💜💜

ooo i like it i like it- you also chose some characters that work well with this prompt so thank you 😂💛

ace, shanks teasing their fem!crush and taking it too far so that she moves on thinking they don't like her

description: ace and shanks (separate) teasingly reject their fem!crush's advances until she moves on thinking they won't love her

-shanks is well known troublemaker, and it's not like he's going to stop any of his shenanigans with person he's fallen for, if anything they increase tenfold

-at first he didn't really think you liked him, he thought you had a flirty friendly personality like him, so he'd flirt with you on a daily basis- but they always held the truth, they weren't meaningless flirts and compliments he was saying what he was thinking because he knew you wouldn't know that

-and he had a lot of fun doing it

-then he found out from gossip spreading through the ship that you did like him, and he was thrilled, but he wasn't just going to make it an easy "get together", he liked the fun you two would have teasing each other and joking around, he liked the game

-so he decided to start messing with you in a slightly different way, that way being to make it seem like he didn't like you

-but of course once knowing everyone, including shanks, knew about your crush on the red head, and then having shanks brush off your normal teases and flirts, you immediately thought the worst

-that shanks was so disgusted that you thought of him like that, that he didn't want to keep messing around with you even when it's just joking

-everytime you'd throw him a compliment suggestive or not he'd give a quick thanks or just a half-hearted chuckle, or even ignore it and turn back to something else

-when you tried to sit next to him he'd scoot away a bit or get up and go talk to someone else

-he wanted to frustrate you so much that you just burst out a confession, he grinned thinking about it- having you come to him yelling about how he's been acting and saying something like "i'm sorry i like you!

-unfortunetly thats not how it goes at all, because instead of getting hung up on shanks you knocked some sense into yourself telling yourself that you don't have to waist time on him, that didn't get rid of your feelings, so you did decide to distract yourself... with other men

-you began doing the same thing shanks did, to a less extremity, but he noticed it and just thought you were trying to get him to break first

-he found it somewhat amusing but at the same time it didn't seem likeyou were sneaking glances or anything like that, things that proved you still liked him

-so he began to get annoyed and unnerved

-then you brought a man back to the ship, one you had met at a bar, and shanks had been sleepless that night so you and your "friend" had run into him in the kitchen

-his eyes widened slightly in surprise and then narrowed in realization, "what do you think you're doing y/n?" -"what do you think i'm doing." he got up from the table and glared at you while he walked over, "leave." he said addressing the man beside without his eyes leaving yours, but he had to pull his eyes off you because apparently your date hadn't understood shanks was talking to him

-"why'd you do that shanks?!" "why'd you bring here y/n?! just last week you liked me." his eyebrows furrowed in confusion and frustration but you looked up at him with surprise, "well you were ignoring me- very rudely- i thought you didn't like that i liked you."

-"i was just trying to get you to tell me yourself. i guess i went a little too far- but if it still matters, i like you too." his face softened a bit and a small smile appeared

-"well i don't see why you couldn't have just told me that." you crossed your arms pouting up at shanks and he took a step closer, leaning down so that his breath could be felt against your lips

-"can you forgive me?" a sly smile spread across his face before. his eyes fluttered shut and he crashed his lips into yours, melting against your own in a passionate kiss, his arm finding its way around your waist and pulling you flush against him

-when he pulled away he stayed close, watching your eyes with sincerity and guilt present in his own, "i'm really sorry."

-similar to shanks, ace thought you were just flirty and friendly to everyone and thats one of the things he loved about you

-but because you were the same with everyone- you actually weren't but ace didn't notice how you were always more touchy and affectionate and flirty with him- he thought he wasn't anyone special and he wwas just another friend

-and at first it was okay he didn't stop or change anything, but gradually over a few weeks he began to slowly grow away from you because he would always fele the happiest when he spent time with you and he'd feel perfectly content, but when he left he would always remind himself that he'd never get anything more, that he'd never get to stay

-he hated the quick but painful transition from "she looks so pretty when she laughs" to "i wonder if we'll still hang out like that when she finds a boyfriend"

-so he figured if he started distancing himself it would be easier to get used to you not spending as much time with him, like if he chose to not be as close to you he'd loose feelings

-and you noticed how he stopped going to spend time with you every chance he got, he stopped slipping his arm around you and sitting next to you when he was about to fall asleep mid-bite, he just started spending less and less time with you

-you'd still have your occasional moments together but they felt hollow like something was missing

-and you figured that ace just grew tired of you, that he didn't like you, that you didn't have a chance with him

-so you started distancing yourself too, doing the exact things ace did until the two of you were rarely talking despite being on a ship together

-marco was one who had watched everything and easily figured it out, letting it play itself out for a bit before he stepped

-ace had been complaining to him about you and how you had avoided him all week by talking to other people and running away when he was going towards you, so marco pointed out "did. you ever think that maybe she's doing that because you did andare doing the samething?"

-"well why wouldn't she just ask me about it?" "probably because she likes you too and now thinks you hate her."

-ace thought for a moment putting all. the pieces together and then marco could see the moment ace figured it out and realized what he had done, "oh shit!"

-ace ran out of marco's office towards your cabin knocking twice before he opened the door, "can we talk?"

-he stepped into the room where you were sitting on the bed and he closed the door behind him, "why are you avoiding me?" he could see your cheeks redden at the question and took that as a good sign, "i-is it because you like me?"

-you opened your mouth to say something but closed it and opteed to nod your heead sheepishly instead, a smile slowly appeared on ace's face and he said "i like you too!" before diving onto the bed once you had reached your arm out gesturing for him

-he crawled towards you captured your lips in a serious of soft sweet kisses, pulling away and wrapping his arms around your waist pushing you back on the pillows, "i'm - sorry - i - started - avoiding - you." he punctuated each world with an apologetic kiss somewhere on your face

#one piece x reader #one piece imagine #one piece headcanons #one piece fluff #one piece #shanks x reader #shanks imagine #shanks headcanons #shanks fluff #shanks #portgas d ace x reader #portgas d ace imagine #portgas d ace headcanons #portgas d ace #portgas d. ace x reader #portgas d. ace #ace x reader #portgas d ace fluff #portgas d. ace fluff

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the-truest-sentence-i-know · 2 years

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no one teaches you what to do when a good man hurts you (and you know you hurt him too)

Fandom: Agent Carter

Characters: Peggy Carter x Daniel Sousa

Rating: T

Summary: Peggy transfers to the new SSR office in LA to be closer to Daniel but finds the transition more difficult than she expected.

Word Count: 4.4k

ao3 || ff.net || wattpad

They were going to be late for work. It was still Peggy's first week and they were going to be late. And they were going to blame it on the traffic, even though what really happened was that they were somewhat enthusiastic in bed the night before and had knocked the alarm clock on the floor where the batteries had fallen out.

Daniel was honking and swearing at the other drivers and complaining about LA traffic and Peggy couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.

"They don't know where you live," Daniel said. "So they can't check up on the story."

"You think they're going to check up on my traffic story?" Peggy asked, holding on to the door for balance as they switched lanes quickly. "There won't be an investigation. The only person who cares about me being late is my boss, and that's you."

Daniel grinned. "You know I keep expecting Dooley to come back from the dead and tell me that Hawaiian shirts are not proper office attire."

"I'll bet he'd have a lot more to say about LA than just the fashion."

When he had parked in front of the Auerbach Theatrical Agency, Daniel said. "Alright, I'll wait five minutes, so we don't go in together."

Peggy smiled and kissed him on the cheek. "Ruining your reputation as a punctual supervising officer for me is so sweet of you, darling."

"I'll ruin more than that," he said, pulling her in for a more substantial kiss.

When she pulled away, she smiled and handed him a handkerchief. "For the lipstick," she whispered and got out of the car.

Daniel watched her go, the handkerchief to his mouth not hiding his smile.

Peggy had known, from the first day, it would be difficult. From the first time she'd walked into the LA office, newly transferred from New York, she'd felt the looks sent her way. Her desk was quite near Daniel's office, which her new colleagues were also quick to observe.

And when Daniel had formally introduced her to the other agents, there were knowing glances, nudges, and murmurs. But she was used to all of this. Surely she had gone through worse before, with her relationships with Steve and Howard openly speculated upon in New York. She had handled all of that. She could handle this too.

And Daniel was sweet and understanding and made sure to follow her admittedly strict rules. They did not discuss personal matters at work, ever. They did not even hold hands in the office. If one of them went out for a drink with their coworkers – usually Daniel – then the other wouldn't – usually Peggy. She was determined to give no fodder to the rumours she knew were already pervasive – that she only had the job because she was sleeping with the boss.

It was a little over a month since her transfer to LA, and it was Valentine's Day. She and Daniel were going out for dinner after work. Peggy came to the office and found a pink envelope on her desk, addressed to her in what was not Daniel's handwriting. Inside was a somewhat mundane store-bought secret admirer card. She wasn't quite sure of what to make of it until Sutton – a newer agent who had been hired since the last time she had been in LA – sallied up to her desk.

"So, what about it, valentine?" he asked. "Be mine?"

Peggy rolled her eyes and held the card out to him. "Fortunately, I'm already spoken for."

"Oh." He took the card, acting surprised. "I thought we were taking turns. He's had you for over a month; I thought it was high time someone else–"

"If you finish that sentence and I'll ensure you don't see next month," Peggy snapped.

He laughed. "Threatening a fellow agent, I oughtta report you to the chief, although I've got a feeling he'd let you off easy."

Peggy glared at him, grabbed the card from his hand and tossed it in the garbage can as he walked away.

When Daniel came by her desk a few minutes later, he asked, "Are you alright?"

"Yes, fine," she said. "I left my report on the east side break-ins on your desk."

He blinked. "Right, thanks."

She smiled and she knew he could tell it was forced, but, as per their rules, he didn't say anything about it.

Dinner was at a new restaurant near the beach. It was lovely and romantic but Peggy's mind kept wandering. She kept glancing around the restaurant, worried there might be SSR agents there, seeing her and Daniel out as a couple. It was ridiculous and paranoid and she knew it, but then again, fears are not always rational things.

One evening a week or two later, Peggy was so focused on her work that she hardly realized that everyone else had left. The only light in the office other than her desk lamp came from Daniel's office. She looked over and felt herself relax a little at his presence. She missed having his desk just a few in front of her. Over their months in New York, she had learned to read his mood by the set of his shoulders and how many times he had run his hands through his hair.

It had been simpler then. They had been a bit of a team – both outcasts from the other agents. As she turned back to her work, the vague thought came to her that maybe they were no longer on that team. Daniel had moved up in the world. She shook the thought away; Daniel had risked his career – and his life – backing her play against Vernon. He was on her side and had been since the beginning.

About twenty minutes later, Daniel's office door opened and closed. Peggy looked up and smiled at him as he approached her. "Late night, chief?"

"Always," he said. "You done for the night?"

Peggy glanced at her desk and sighed. "I can probably leave the rest till tomorrow."

"Well," Daniel said, drawing out the word as he pulled Peggy to her feet. "Since neither of us is on the clock and no one else is here, I'd say we're not technically at work."

"I like the way you think," Peggy said.

Daniel pulled her into a kiss, holding her close. Peggy wrapped her arms around his neck and tangled her fingers in his hair; she let herself sink into and get lost in it. There was no work, no stress, no fat-headed male coworkers; there was only her and Daniel and far too many clothes between them.

They stumbled their way back into his office, refusing to let go of each other, crashing into chairs, desks, and the doorway on their way. Daniel lost his footing as he opened the door, but Peggy managed to hold onto him until they both tumbled onto the couch, her on top of him.

Peggy had just gotten her blouse unbuttoned when there were footsteps out in the bullpen.

"Hey, chief," Vega's voice neared them, and Peggy tried to hastily do up her top again. "I realized I forgot to give you the report on–" He stopped when he stood in the doorway and stared at them, before quickly turning his head away. "Sorry for... interrupting."

Peggy quickly got up and, holding her blouse closed with one hand, walked over, and grabbed the report from his hand. "Thank you, Agent Vega," she said. "Have a lovely evening."

Daniel sat up and watched as Peggy placed the report on his desk, waiting to see what her reaction would be. He knew this kind of thing was exactly what she had been afraid of being insinuated in the office, and here they were, actually doing it.

Then she laughed. "I feel like I just got caught kissing a boy in the bathrooms at a school dance," she said, turning to him.

Daniel relaxed. "That happen often?"

"It wasn't really the boys I liked," Peggy said, straddling Daniel's legs where he sat. "More the rebellion of it all."

"Rebellion, huh?" Daniel looked around them. "Should I be nervous?"

Peggy just smiled and kissed him. Daniel's hands roamed up under her blouse before he pulled away.

"That wasn't a no," he said.

"It wasn't a yes, either," Peggy said teasingly.

He looked at her for a moment then grinned. "I'll take it."

It wasn't until Peggy got home that night that it really hit her. She sat down on her couch, surprised at the rate of her heartbeat, the way her breath was trying to come out in short shallow gasps. She held out her hands and found they were shaking.

"Alright, Peggy," she said to herself. "Pull yourself together."

It was fine. She was fine. Everyone had been caught in a compromising situation at some point in their lives. If Captain America could snog someone on an army base and have no one say anything about it, then... Well, then this was nothing compared to that.

(Except it was something, because it was different, and she knew it was but God she was just so sick of it all.)

Mr. Jarvis and Ana were currently back in New York, where Howard was too, on business. Peggy sat in her empty apartment and realized that she did not have many friends in LA – except for Violet, who she couldn't talk to about this for obvious reasons.

Angie's voice was such a comfort – even over the phone – that Peggy nearly teared up. "Hey, English."

"Angie," she said, relaxing on the couch. "It's so good to hear your voice. I hope I didn't wake you."

"Don't worry about it," she said, a bit more hesitant at the quiver in Peggy's voice. "Are you okay?"

"Well, I–" She sighed. "Not really." She explained the situation to a patient Angie, pulling her legs onto the couch and leaning against the armrest. "I just feel stuck," she concluded. "And with no one to talk to about it."

"Other than Daniel, you mean."

Peggy doesn't say anything, which Angie immediately picked up on.

"You've talked to him about it, right?"

"Not really," Peggy said, quickly continuing before Angie said anything. "Because I know that if I do, he'll want to talk to them, and tell them off."

"Which will only make things worse," Angie finished.

"Yes, exactly."

"Peggy," Angie said, and Peggy already knew what she was going to say. "You need to talk to him. You two were friends before you got together, right? Tell him like you told me."

Peggy sighed. "You're probably right."

"It happens more often than you think."

Peggy knew Angie was right, and she would talk to Daniel about it. Eventually. After she tried to do things her way a little bit longer. Because she was doing what she had always done, working as hard as she could until she finally won the begrudging respect of her coworkers.

She worked long hours, taking the shifts no one wanted, and made sure her reports were detailed and above reproof. She responded to the comments from Sutton and the others with witty retorts until that became too tiring, and she just ignored them.

Around the time she thought she was finally gaining a little respect, she also realized she was seeing less and less of Daniel. She made a note to figure out a day they could go out for dinner, but it was soon buried by paperwork.

One evening, as she was going over the weekly records of a florist they were investigating for being one of the mob's fronts, there was a knock on her door.

"It's me!" Daniel called.

"It's open!" Peggy said, not looking away from the papers.

Daniel came in, carrying what smelled like Chinese food from the place around the corner. He set the bags on the dinner table and then came over to her, kissing the top of her head. "Have you eaten?" he asked.

"I had a coffee after work," Peggy said distractedly.

"That would be a no then," he said. "Come on, you need a break and food."

"Just let me finish this," Peggy said, flipping to the next page.

Daniel came around the couch and manoeuvred himself into a kneel beside her. "Peg," he said, and she finally looked at him. "Hi."

Her face softened and she smiled wearily. "Hi," she said and leaned forward to kiss him. "Sorry."

He smiled. "Come on, you need to eat."

She sighed and put the papers down. "Did you get Pork Chow Mein?"

"Yep."

Peggy smiled and kissed him again.

They sat at the table, unpacking and dividing up the food.

"So, how's the florist looking?" Daniel asked.

"Pretty normal, except for the high demand for tiger lilies. I didn't think orange was very in right now."

"Do you think it's code for something?"

Peggy shrugged. "Or it's simply me being behind in LA floral fashion."

Daniel laughed. "Maybe we need a fashion consultant in the office."

"Mm, maybe we do."

They ate in silence for a bit.

"Oh, I've been meaning to ask you," Daniel said. "The office has tickets for the Rams game next Saturday. Do you wanna go?"

Peggy smiled. "Daniel, I don't know anything about–" She stopped. "Wait, are the Rams baseball or football?"

Daniel sighed, exaggeratedly exasperated. "Football. And I can explain while we watch."

"I wouldn't want to spoil your fun."

"You wouldn't be," he insisted. "Besides, Peggy, we hardly ever go out."

"It's a work event, Daniel, it wouldn't be a date," Peggy said. "And anyway, I don't want to be the girl who needs the rules of the manly sport explained to her."

"You don't know the rules because you're British," Daniel said. "If we went and watched a game of cricket or polo or whatever, I'd need you to explain what was going on."

Peggy sighed. "That's not how they'll see it."

"Since when have you cared how people see you?"

Peggy's gaze dropped to her food, and she took a deep breath. "Fine, I'll go then."

"Wait, I– I don't want to force you to go."

"Okay, then I won't go." She looked up to meet his eyes. He looked at her, confused, before looking away again.

"Well, there's still over a week, if you... change your mind."

"Right."

They ate in silence again until Daniel said gently, "Are you alright, Peggy?"

She looked at him and smiled softly. "I'm fine, just tired."

Then one day, like some malevolent trickster, Jack Thompson showed up. "Hey Marge," he said, walking through the bullpen. "Hope you're keeping everyone on their toes."

"Chief Thompson," Peggy said. "What a lovely surprise."

"Have I ever told you you really know how to make a guy feel welcome?"

Peggy gave him a small smile. "I believe Chief Sousa is on the phone right now, so you'll have to wait."

"Are you his secretary now too?"

"That's what we've been wondering," Sutton said, approaching Jack with his hands held out. "Agent Sutton, sir."

Jack shook it. "You know she almost shot me once," he said, jerking his head toward Peggy.

"What?" Sutton asked, confused.

"Yep."

"Women and their aim, right?" Sutton tried to recover.

"Oh no, she woulda gotten me, except the building behind us exploded." He leaned in and lowered his voice. "Just don't piss her off."

Sutton glanced between her and Peggy. "Right..."

As he walked away, Peggy shook her head and stared at him. "What was that?"

"Seeding fear amongst the new recruits," he said. "He's new, right?"

"Relatively."

He grinned. "Wait till I tell them about the time Sousa tried to kill me."

"In my defence," Daniel said, who had come to stand beside Peggy's desk. "You were being, well, yourself."

They shook hands. "Let's go into my office."

Peggy sighed as she watched them leave. With her luck, everyone would think she was sleeping with two SSR chiefs.

It was Friday and when everyone else had left, Peggy went to Daniel's office, where he and Jack were still talking.

"Peggy," Daniel said when she came in. "Jack wanted to go to The Mint. I've got some stuff to finish up here yet, but maybe you could take him."

She hesitated only a moment. "Yes, alright." It had been too long since she'd gone out with a friend. As much as she could call Jack a friend.

Jack grinned and stood up, holding his jacket. "I promise not to steal your girl," he said to Daniel.

Peggy rolled her eyes. "As if you could."

The bar was smoky and dimly lit, and it was one of Peggy's favourite places to come with Daniel. Maybe it was because it would be difficult for their coworkers to spy them out with the poor visibility, but she didn't put too much thought into it. She and Daniel usually took one of the back booths, but with Jack, she sat at the bar; this was not a semi-secret rendezvous, this was having a drink with a friend in the open.

"Jack," Peggy said after they had exchanged stories from the job for a good twenty minutes. "Do you remember what you said to me in the interrogation room that time? That no men would ever see me as an equal and that it was sad but no less true?"

He looked at her curiously. "Yeah," he said. "Why?"

She shrugged. "I suppose I've just been thinking about that lately."

"I wasn't entirely right," he said after a moment. "I bet Sousa's telling off guys left, right, and center for looking at you funny."

"I've told him he's not allowed to do that."

"What, you guys have rules?" he asked incredulously.

"I'm a female agent dating my supervising officer," Peggy said. "Of course, we have rules. About work..."

"No hand-holding in the office?"

"No anything in the office."

Jack raised his eyebrows and smirked. "Really? Cause I heard this rumour–"

"That was one time," Peggy interrupted. "And we thought everyone had gone home."

"Ah, rookie mistake," he said. "Never assume the office is empty."

"Have you been dallying with anyone at the office, Jack?" Peggy asked with an amused smile.

"Not the SSR's office," he said. "That would be inappropriate."

Peggy rolled her eyes.

"Seriously though," he said. "Since when have you cared what people think? Half the office thought you and Stark had messed around and you still went to bat for him. You didn't give a shit."

"You think I don't go to bat for Daniel? Of course, I do. I just think we should keep our personal and work lives separate, so people don't get any ideas."

"You think they'll think you only got the job because you're screwing the boss?" Jack asked, confused. "They won't. They don't. They're just dicks. Believe me, I'd know."

Peggy nodded. "I know."

"Then what's the problem?"

She sighed. "I'm exhausted," she said, then laughed. "I'm so tired of it. Every day, the looks, the comments. It's like nothing I do is enough."

Jack nodded. "Not to play couples' counsellor, but what are Daniel dearest's thoughts on the situation?"

"Daniel is not fully aware of the extent..." She looked at him. "I don't exactly tell him everything."

"Always the sign of a good healthy relationship," Jack said, nodding sagely. "I never tell anyone what's bothering me and, as you know, I am happily married with like three kids."

Peggy tried to look displeased but couldn't ward off a small smile. "You have a remarkable talent of making things sound worse when you say them."

He grinned. "Happy to help." He downed the last of his drink. "Before you go make your relationship all better and boring, or whatever," he said. "Why'd you come to me about this?"

"I think you and I are quite alike."

"Really?"

"You're more cynical than I am, but we both see the world as it is."

"And Sousa sees it as he wishes it was," Jack said. "He's an optimist."

Peggy smiled slightly. "I suppose I can't fault him for that."

"I do," Jack said. "Makes him too much of a boy scout."

"I happen to like nice men."

"Clearly," he said. "Picking Captain America over Howard Stark? Your type is showing."

Peggy stood up. "This was a more enjoyable and enlightening evening than I expected it to be," she said. "Thank you, Jack."

"And if it doesn't end up working out between you two," Jack said. "I've got a cousin's wedding this summer that I may have promised my grandmother I was bringing a date to."

"As much as I'd hate to disappoint your grandmother, I think we'll be okay."

"Alright, see ya, Marge."

On Monday, Sutton slapped Peggy's ass as he passed by her in the bullpen.

Peggy spun around and snapped, "If you touch me again, I'll break all those delicate little bones in your hand."

He just grinned and wasn't backing down and Peggy was just starting to think she'd have to make good on her threat when Daniel poked his head out of his office and said, "Everything alright out here?"

Sutton stepped back from Peggy. "Yeah, chief. Everything's fine."

"Peggy?"

She kept her eyes on Sutton. "Yes, sir."

"Alright, then." His office door closed.

Sutton grinned again and went back to his desk. Peggy's knuckles were white as she gripped the back of her chair. When she went to the bathroom she punched a dent in the wall of the stall and then almost cried at how tired she was of being angry.

Daniel was sitting on the front steps of the apartment building when Peggy got home that evening. She accepted a kiss to her cheek but put a hand on his arm when he started to follow her inside. "I'm tired, Daniel," she said.

"Is everything alright?" he asked.

"Yes, I just need to rest."

"Was Sutton bothering you today?" he asked. "Because I can talk to him–"

"Don't do that!" she burst out. "I mean." She sighed. "That would only encourage him."

He followed her into the foyer. "So, he is bothering you."

"I'm handling it."

"You don't have to handle it alone."

Peggy sighed. "Remember what I said before: I can handle whatever those adolescents can throw at me."

"Yeah, but then I didn't have any power to help you. Now I do."

They had reached her door. Peggy unlocked it and they went inside. Daniel helped as Peggy began unpacking her groceries.

"I just want your time at this office to be better than in New York."

Peggy turned to him. "Darling, it is." She took his hand in hers. "You treat me the same as all the other agents. That's all you have to do. The rest I can deal with myself." She continued putting things in the fridge.

"When you say to treat you equally, what you mean is that you want me to turn a blind eye to guys bothering you," Daniel said. "Are you telling me Jack never told off a new guy for giving you a hard time?"

"No, he left that to me," Peggy said. "And even if he had, that would be different."

"What? Because we're together?" Daniel said. "I know that's why you weren't so sure about transferring, but–"

Peggy turned to him. "Daniel, if you say anything to them, you will only make it worse. I can deal with them; I have ample experience."

"Peggy, you're working yourself to the bone."

"If that's what I have to do to gain their respect."

"What kind of plan is that?"

"It's my only option," Peggy snapped. "You wouldn't understand."

"Yeah, 'cause you're the only one who was given a hard time in New York," he said seriously.

"And which one of us is now the chief of the new SSR office?" Peggy asked. "Oh, look, it's you!"

"Hey, don't blame me, alright, I recommended you for the job."

"I'm not blaming you, I'm just saying that this is what it is. This is what it was like during the war, this is what it was like in New York, and this is what it's like here." She sighed. "We both know what it's like to be overlooked and viewed as less than ideal. But you can't understand what I go through any more than I can understand what you go through. So believe me when I say: this is the only way. I must excel to be at all respected."

Daniel sighed. He pulled her close and she rested her cheek on his shoulder. "I just wish I could help." They swayed in the dimly lit kitchen.

"Me too," Peggy said. "But you can't."

Something between them shifted that night, but at the time, Peggy wasn't quite sure what it was.

Daniel began acting differently after that as well; he was less accommodating and more clipped and terser with the agents. Mistakes were met with strict telling offs. Peggy found herself comparing his leadership style to Jack's and Dooley's – and even a few of her superiors during the war.

And because she knew what had caused this change, she didn't ask him about it.

Peggy kept working every shift she could get. She pulled all-nighters and cracked difficult cases and arrested dangerous people and it was somehow never enough. She got into petty arguments fueled by too much coffee and not enough sleep with anyone in her way, including Daniel.

Any time they spent together that was not work-related was usually spent sleeping together – in the most literal sense. They were growing apart and they both knew it. Peggy knew Daniel resented her dogged determination in earning everyone's respect; a determination that sometimes felt like running into a wall, getting knocked down and then running at it again anyway. And he knew she resented the fact that he resented it.

He thought that them caring about each other would be enough to carry both of them through the difficulties of the job. And she knew that it probably should be enough, but for her, it just wasn't. She needed more than a supportive boyfriend to come home to at the end of the day.

They weren't broken up yet, but it would happen eventually, and when it did, it will have felt inevitable. It wouldn't be some final argument, but an outside thing – or, more likely, a multitude of outside things piling up until they became unbearable – as it had always been.

But for now, they stayed, tumbling exhausted into bed together after a day of barely making eye contact at work, quietly wondering how much longer it could possibly last.

#agent carter #peggy carter #daniel sousa #peggysous #peggysousa #peggy x daniel #daniel x peggy #jack thompson #angie martinelli #my writing #amwriting #ao3 #ff.net #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #marvel #mcu

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