#hide from the government since it does not want their dirty laundry to come to light

[lar-mx]

Writing prompt #8

This time we have Danny as a woman. We also have Siren AU where Danny is a singer with an incredible voice. so enter the scene: one of Bruce's most honored business partners, organized a New Year's Eve party, the whole family was invited, along with many other partners and businessmen. The party starts without problems, the background music is perfect, neither too loud nor too low, and can be heard throughout the room. All of the Batkids manage to not fall into their chaotic tendencies and mostly stick together, until the main "act" arrives. A beautiful woman in a one-piece black dress walks onto the main stage, the musicians prepare for the performance. without introduction, the woman begins to sing:

While the melody invaded the party, the gaze of (insert member of the bat clan here) could not depart from the beautiful blue eyes of the song, everything would be perfect if it were not because suddenly a group of criminals burst into the party, destroying the magnificent atmosphere created by the melody. Although as strange as it may seem, the bad guys on duty were not here for the rich and very rich businessmen and their families (jewelry, money) but for the group of musicians and their lead singer. Everyone from the public, the musicians, the waiters and the singer seemed not to understand the criminals' demands at first, but when they saw that there was no turning back, the group decided to go with them to prevent the guests from being hurt. As the singer passed by (insert bat here) she pretended to trip and hand him a small device while I thanked him for catching it, winking discreetly, the message is clear.

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dpxdc #dc x dp crossover #mala escritura #danny woman #singer danny #Danny and his class formed a complete group of musicians #from the girls in the choir to those who learned to play more than one instrument. #amity park no longer exists #it was destroyed by the government. #Danny and his class along with some others from adults to babies #hide from the government since it does not want their dirty laundry to come to light #Danny x ??? #Who will be the lucky one to win Danny's cold heart and I'm talking about the romantic way. #although if they don't hurry to find them it is very likely that a batkid will end up with a beating heart in his hand. #Youtube

[mirkysconcubinefiction]

Kinda the Secretary

Plot IdEa:

MobBucky! x Reader (either gender but I write as female) swear warning.

Bucky isn't a fool. He knows there's a snitch in his midst. Someone is talking and he's sure it's you.

You are after all here - his secretary/PA - as an undercover to take him down.

He should have killed you but it would have been too easy. Too obvious. So Bucky treated you accordingly.

With what he was paying you it wasn't worth the hassle. First week you're hired you dress in business casual, fetch coffee, answer phone, play candy crush.

Second week there's a hidden camera in every corner, listening devices just about everywhere and there's a God dam dress code.

Skirts - heels - makeup - blouses... you had to take a stupid selfie and send it to him. He complained about your wardrobe and you snidely made a comment that paying rent was more important than making sure each day was something new and titillating.

What does the biggest asshole mob boss of the east coast do? He has someone deliver you clothes every week. A fucking rotation of mini skirts, busty blouses, some with cutouts showing off an inappropriate amount of skin, stilettos with red bottoms and pencil thin heels that made you self conscious of your weight.

God... you would die if your luscious ass snapped a heel and tipped over.

Also. Your desk. Your beautiful mahogany desk with it's hand carved character was replaced by a modern monstrosity and positioned in a way that the asshole Boss could look up from his desk, peer through the glass, and see right up your skirt.

Accepting this stupid assignment was supposed to be easy.

Easy money.

Paid time off from assignment after assignment, working a desk job was supposed to be a vacation.

Paid hours from the government and paid by a man easy on the eyes but he was a good excuse to not do shit. You were fine funneling money into your bank account and pretend to be a loyal dog for the cause.

You didn't care about the drugs, the gambling, the murdering and typical old fashioned business.

James Buchanan Barnes was your retirement. Last a year with his murderous tendencies and you could apply for permanent leave of your secret government job and cash in years worth of OT, Vacation, and Sick leave.

Instead Bucky the asshole ran you ragged. It was as if he knew you were here for shits and giggles.

You're not stupid. The bastard has a mole - it was that incel Quentin Beck - the guy was creepy and got a hard on over being Bucky.

Instead you have fun. Either you survive the year or you die. If Bucky wanted you to dress like the office slut then so be it.

Underwear? Meh, laundry day.

Bra a dark shade that stuck out from your tops? Can do.

Nails? Black French tips, pointy witch nails, bedazzled with fake stones? Done.

Pedicures? You thrived in pampering yourself.

You deserved it.

No matter how much was stacked on your plate you got it done. Late nights? Early mornings? Skipped lunches? Whatever it took you made sure it was perfect.

Sucked that the minions took to bothering you at least it annoyed the asshole Boss

Had to suck moreso for the asshole Boss when you didn't fall into his amateur ruses. Giving you bread crumbs to see if you would snitch.

The frustration looked good on the man.

The scowl.

The pacing.

Eventually it comes to a head when the higher ups question you. They send people to bother you. To intimidate you for information to put the asshole man away.

You ignore it until it gets physical. They're aggressive and now they believe you're a traitor. You break a heel when someone pulls you into a stairwell. It's a dirty fight. Woman to woman and you regret wearing your hair loose.

Your nail chips.

Another breaks off and it hurts since it tore off part of your real nail.

You toss the woman out of the stairwell and leave her in a heap. Thankfully you have spare clothes at work, you take off your broken heels, pick up your bag, and run up the stairs and away from the mess left behind. Your head is down as you have to walk through the garage to get to the business entrance of the company that was a front for the heavy stuff.

Unfortunately you're recognized and someone tattle, calling their boss to tell him you're a mess.

Making it to the office you hurry to the coat closet where your spare uniform is hanging in a garment bag. Leaving is another story as Bucky is suddenly there, filling the doorway and he's pissed.

You try and fix your hair and hide your sore hand with it's broken nail but he's taking you in. Dirty, bruised, bleeding, hot mess with torn and rumpled clothing.

He leads you to his private bathroom, his goons quiet as he pushes you inside and closes the door. He's careful and gentle as he helps you undress, you don't fight it, he cleans you up, wipes away the makeup, checks for a bump on your head, helps you redress and even sits you on his marble counter and cleans your feet.

Unexpected and weird.

"Stay here" he says and leaves.

Later once a doctor checks you over, finger is bandaged, the cuts and bruises are tended, he shows you security footage of the stairwell.

He knows.

He's had you followed.

One day you're an agent of the government playing secretary and the next you're the girlfriend of an infamous mob boss.

It's all i got so far 😅

Too many stories working on so here you go. Hashtag and @ if interested 🖤

#mirkysconcubinefiction #fanfiction #avengers #writing prompt #fanfic #dark #marvel #mob!bucky x reader #mob!bucky #dark bucky barnes #bamf #reader insert

[amazinghcwkeye]

                        META TALKS;;  CLAIRE && PREGNANCY && SEX

(  OVERALL TRIGGERS FOR childhood sexual abuse, domestic violence, mention of a miscarriage, mention of wanting an abortion, sexual harassment and rape. Bad and sexist language is also used. Please tread carefully if any of these things trigger you.  )

First thing first, this is going to get down and dirty and I am not going to mince words. Claire was sexually abused at the orphanage and the circus. Because of this, she developed C-PTSD/PTSD and has complex emotions towards sex and pregnancy. 

** IMPORTANT: Everything has been researched very carefully and some of it is based on my own experiences. Please do not come into my inbox or ims screaming about how I don’t know anything. And yes, well everything in here is a bit dark, it’s something that has been in development for over a few years. This was not spur of the moment, this has been thoughts and headcanons I’ve collected and worked on since starting Claire’s blog originally. If you don’t want to read anything in here, that’s fine. While this headcanon is apart of this blog, not all of this is going to show up in most of the threads, so don’t worry. Also this is part 1/? who knows how many meta talks i’ll be having about Claire.  

I'm really nervous about sharing this but I really want to, so that said, let’s get into this. 

Her first introduction into sex was after their parents died, because despite how horrible Harold Barton was, he sheltered his children (imho) from things like sex and relationship and their mother figured they were too young to even really talk about anything like sex and finding love. So, her first introduction was with the man who did the orphanage’s laundry. He thought she was pretty and she was just terrified and unable to really find a niche in the home and so she looked for places to hide which is where he found her, hiding and he took advantage of her. When her and Barney managed to run, she tried to leave behind the icky feelings that came from what happened to her, but she was never able to really get rid of them. 

Which leads to..

Claire’s first time was with Viktor, the son of the fortune teller at the circus. She was 15 years old and he was 17 and she didn’t love him. But after breaking up with a townie shortly before going on the road again, Viktor offered to take her to a party where they got drunk and slept together in the bedroom of some townie who they didn’t know and honestly, she loved it. Afterwards though, she quietly sobbed in the bathroom, mentally eviscerating herself for sleeping with someone she didn’t love because that meant that the laundry guy was right; she was a whore. 

(of course we know that is a big ass lie) 

After that, Claire got herself another boyfriend, this time a little older (which is very illegal) and focused on trying to ignore the overwhelming feelings of complete dirtiness that came from all her drinking and fucking. He was a townie and believed her when she said she was old enough. After a few weeks, she got sick of him and broke up. But then she realised that she was getting sick in the mornings shortly after and that was the first time Claire got pregnant. At 16, she couldn’t be a parent, she was hardly a functioning adult. But she didn’t want to have an abortion, she was raised in a religious orphanage and thought that it was wrong. 

It didn’t matter though, the strain of training and the violence that she lived with in the circus caused her to miscarry and while she cried daily about it, there was a little part of her that was relieved that she didn’t have to figure out what to do anymore. Her relief lasted shortly though as she realized that with losing the baby, she gained a crippling sleeping problem that made her drink more and act out. She waited a bit to start dating again, she had heard that if you had sex after being pregnant (even if you had a miscarriage) you could risk getting pregnant again and she was too terrified of that. 

Though after a few months of not sleeping unless she was piss drink, Claire went back to dating and sleeping around because the nightmares from when she was younger was scarier than the nightmares of getting pregnant. Her first “boyfriend” after her miscarriage was the Strongman of the circus. He was violent and reminded her of her father and she made sure that no matter how drunk she was, she took the birth control that she had stolen. She refused to end up like her mother: shackled to a man who abused her and her kids. After a few months, she broke it off with him. Sorta. He was not one to take no for an answer so Claire just ignored most of his advances and slept with a knife under the bed. 

(Even if that didn’t protect her all the time) 

After the circus and the relationships that destroyed her understanding of basic relationships, Claire would get drunk and sleep with whoever was nearby. Sometimes, she would sleep with her marks or people who employed her and she occasionally dealt with people who refused her saying no unless she held a gun to their heads. ( unfortunately, more than once she had incidents where she didn’t have a weapon to protect herself and despite her training there are people stronger than her       it’s why she has so many scars on her body ) 

That was until she came across a situation where she felt she had fallen in love with a mark; sure he was wanted for a lot of things ( murder, thievery, being a turncoat, things that claire normally abhorred ) but he valued her opinions and made her feel wanted. Deciding to stay with him for a bit, she lived on the run with him and they decided they were going to start a family. But things weren’t as they seemed and shortly after she got pregnant - whoo boy did that do a huge damage on her mentality - he went missing. Too far along for an abortion, Claire was forced to carry the baby to term. 

Throughout it all, she suffered mentally. Her body changed in a way she didn’t like, she was forced to go into hiding until after she went into labor, she was forced to deal with nightmares every night she was actually able to go to sleep. She wanted to drink, all the time, but she didn’t because she didn’t want to hurt the baby even if she didn’t want it. Claire tried to find him all the time but she couldn’t and by time she actually gave birth, she was severely depressed and ready to end her life. 

Giving birth was the worst part of her life, she hated every second of the event and when she had given birth to the baby, she refused to hold the child. Everyone chalked it up to postpartum depression but Claire knew it was because this child wasn’t going to stay with her. She wasn’t going to risk giving the child up for adoption in a foster system - she had been a victim of it and she refused to do that to a child she didn’t want - but she knew she had to get rid of the kid. 

She spent a year looking and after finding a family that wanted a child (after secretly watching them for that length of time) she left the baby with them, swearing to watch over the child to make sure it was loved and cared for and promising to leave money in their bank account every month to help them. 

Not long after that, Claire was picked up by SHIELD and became an agent. During the beginning she was sent on honeypot missions (not that often but enough that Claire has developed a healthy hatred of trying to seduce someone and now just flirts really bad) and Claire hated every bit of it, and she eventually told her handlers that she refused to do those types of missions anymore because she felt uncomfortable using her body in such a way. Her first handler (before Coulson) didn’t care and told her that she was a weapon to be used how SHIELD wanted because she was a criminal who belonged in prison not working for the government.

Claire bucked it up and continued to do whatever mission that was sent her way. If a few of her missions lead to sexual harassment then she didn't complain. She knew her place - even if she argued with it. By time she finally decided that she had had enough, she was having hard time sleeping, nightmares and just hated working there, and so she decided to approach Fury and tell him to toss her in prison, at least there she had a chance to escape. When asked where all the negative emotions were coming from, Claire explained what was going on and Fury was not happy. 

She got a brand new handler and life at SHIELD got a bit easier to deal with. But there was still some trauma that was not dealt with because even though she was forced to go to aSHIELD therapist, she refused to truly talk about why honeypot missions bugged her and so she didn’t really deal with it. 

Which leads to..

Future relationships with Claire is so low maintenance (even if she does occasionally have problems where she cheats without meaning to) that she honestly just wants to cuddle and not discuss her past relations with her partner. When it comes to kids, oh god does she have problems. She wants them, she really does, but at the same time, she’s still haunted by the child she left behind. Any relationship she would have is a relationship built on trust and love and she’s terrified that finding out that she has a child, that finding out that her entire sexually history is tainted by dark heavy stuff that she’d rather just never explain will destroy any relationship. 

If it ever came to discussing having kids, Claire would probably have an internal freak-out and then, after trying to ignore it for so long, Claire would explain her history of pregnancy and talk about it with them. If she ever got pregnant, she’d deal with it badly by talking with her partner and a lot of communication by hiding it in the beginning, she would be terrified that they’d leave if they found out (because last time she thought she had a forever relationship, it went badly). When it came out, she would be over consumed by feelings and in some situations (if she felt too confined) she might even leave. Eventually she’d just come out and explain that when she was younger she had a child, gave it up and has felt horrible about it for years. She knows that she can’t take it back and she really doesn’t want to, but she would still regret it.

Eventually after much therapy, she would learn that what happen wasn’t her fault and that she is better than what her past was. She would also learn (after taking parenting classes) how to be a better parent. Because while much of her trauma towards children settle deeply from what was done to her and how she reacted towards it, a lot of it still stems from the abuse that was done to her by her father. Honestly, relationships would be hard even if she wasn’t abused, because she would be terrified of ending up like her mother or ending up like her father and not trusting herself not to end up like either of them. 

OTHER THINGS: 

Claire struggles with insecurity due to the abuse she suffered. In a relationship, she struggles with feeling good enough for the other person and she also struggles with drinking during a relationship. She feels like she doesn’t deserve her partner and will show it by either attaching herself to the other person or distancing herself.

#rape tw #child abuse tw #abortion mention tw #miscarriage mention tw #domestic violence tw #unhealthy coping mechanisms mentioned #//Honestly I have to write a entire thing on how claire copes with relationships bc it’s not going to fit here. this has gotten to long. #♛;; lets just dive into the hell that belongs to her backstory and character ❜ misc;; headcanons ❜ #♛;; talking on and on; her mouth moves quickly and her hands even quicker; there's a story to be told and she's telling it ❜ misc;; meta ❜

[violetsystems]

#personal

When people wonder how long I’ve spent being ignored down here like everybody else it’s nothing compared to how long I’ve held the same job.  Truly one of the things I’ve been most successful with in proving consistency has been my work ethic.  It helps that it returns financial compensation and benefits not that any of that impresses anyone these days.  I say that work is work a lot and leave it at that.  It is important to note I work in an extremely liberal environment.  I don’t mind being inclusive in fact I think it’s more rewarding in the long run.  You expect that respecting people’s right to be will create an atmosphere that encourages you to do the same.  This is the Utopian vision of liberal America that always has it’s heart in the right place but fumbles upon execution.  Mainly because accepting people in America seems to be largely an egocentric experience.  We the people.  Wait who are we all again really?  It’s true I don’t really feel much in line with extreme politics on either side these days.  I spent years soul searching after making dance music on how to do something more important.  I volunteered for a Korean American Festival for three years back in 2011 through 2013.  That imploded in such a Tarantino-esque way like everything else in my life.  People come together and power struggles emerge out of the vacuum.   Around 2013 I worked with a collective of mostly women from my school in a project called Collective Cleaners.  It was a project about cleaning and the value of human labor.  I learned how to weave rags from old bedsheets.  We did a year long show at Jane Addams Hull House at UIC.  I could go on and on right.   But it seems like I’m telling a joke about my life with no actual punchline.  Like I’m mockumentary in the flesh.  Here I am still out here ambiguous proving myself to some phantom army.  And here I am still not good enough for America staring it in the face.  After all this my life is still a fucking joke to people in the worst and most hurtful way.  It becomes exhausting to remind people you have acted on solutions to these modern problems.  Nobody cares about me and what I do about it year after year.  Trust me I get that part by now.  That’s what it seemed like for awhile.  And then I had the painful realization that the work never stops.  And it seems like I’m all alone doing all the work.  To be truthful a lot of the work and expectations follow me around after I leave my day job.  On my lunch break I had to break up a fight between a white christian woman and a fake monk on Michigan before it happened.  The woman came running down the street making a sign of the cross with her fingers.  I stepped in front of her and calmly asked her what the fuck she was doing.  She ran away in opposite direction.  Where’s my comic book Marvel?  

For all the things I’ve done I’m still just as mistrusted and questionable in the eyes of the social elite.  I’m never quite good enough.  Never quite valid enough to prove I’m just as just viable as a closet misogynist with a six figure salary.  I’ve been questionable for years only to realize that nobody has any answers for me on how to be otherwise without being me.  Other than me.  And so in the end only I really know how successful this has all been.  And only I know when it’s appropriate to stay the course or give up entirely.  I haven’t given up.  That’s self confidence talking.  And sometimes you have to lead yourself forward towards some sort of progress through the hazy chaos.  I spent an entire year answering political calls and surveys out of guilt.  Mostly due to what I would hear from my peers about the intrinsic value of being politically aware and woke in the arts.  When it comes to American politics I do participate at bare minimum in voting.  One robocall asked my political leanings.  I said left.  “So I’ll mark you down as progressive.”  I didn’t know how I felt about it at the time.  Progressive in Illinois is a strange beast.  We elected a billionaire for Governor and a lawyer for Mayor.  At surface level that sounds horrible and I guess the more you dig into Chicago and Illinois politics you’d find the same shit.  You need money in America to have a say in politics regardless of how many free speech arguments you win on the Internet.  You can of course vote and it would be remiss to say I haven’t seen progress in that.  As of January we have recreational Marijuana and abortion legal across the state.  I have seen the drug war up close and personal.  It sounds like I’m a vice news reporter.  I’ve probably nudged up against them too in the field but they pretend I don’t exist.  Maybe that’s a parable of the drug war and the media industrial complex.  Maybe shit was lame.  All I know is through a series of miracles in the democratic process smoking weed in Chicago isn’t as dangerous to your personal freedom as it used to be.  Making friends in public still is.  Welcome to snitchville.  Whereas New York is up close but never personal Chicago is your best friend and your arch enemy at the same time.  Progressive politics signifies that things move on, evolve and change.  I’ve read enough news feeds to understand the Governor made whatever possible by crossing the aisles.  Which can be read as compromise.  That’s government.  I’m a private citizen in America.  Or so one would think.  There’s endless commentary about how people like me don’t do enough.  Americans love to talk all day about privacy and talk can be cheap.  Facing the realities of a growing surveillance state that likes to masquerade as the land of the free is troubling.  So can facing the reality your favorite punk rock festival is using public space for profit in under served neighborhoods.  I’m more concerned about white dad rock masquerading as punk.  But insecure men would rather lash out at the me too movement than rock the boat.  You pick your battles right?  Generally when I’ve been the one to stand up to things it’s been about not moving backwards in terms of progressive beliefs.  I believe in a woman’s right to choose.  I got targeted on the street all summer because of it by Christians who thought it was ok to bring it to my face.  I didn’t get a medal and I sure as fuck didn’t really get a pat on the back.  I still have my secret support systems but I don’t have the luxury any more of hiding from who I am and what I believe.  I often stand by myself and what I believe and suffer for it.  Or worse it gets hijacked, misunderstood, and misrepresented by someone’s interpretation of what I’m trying to say.  And I sit here every Saturday morning wondering if I’ve made any progress in being happy at all.  

After failing so much in everything you get a little tired of falling for the same old tricks.  The personal is the most political you can be and I have years of resistance to draw from.  Nobody ever wants me to be me even after all the passionate posts on the internet about what I believe.  It goes nowhere.  There are people who do understand and people I trust.  But the reality in America is that is few and far between in public space.  The propaganda that we’re all free is largely based on some huge stipulations.  Money is one of them.  I work for a non profit.  You can do the math.  It feels like everything that the Left wanted me to be based on critique is largely ignored unless I have my wallet out.  And even then I’ve been happier being less liberal with my money in places where it isn’t respected.  I guess I could run away to Hong Kong and start over.  The irony of that is pretty funny right now.  I haven’t talked to that side of the family in a while since I’ve been off Facebook.  I haven’t left the country since I came back from China, Korea and Japan by myself since the first summit between Moon Jae-in and the other guy.  I don’t know that I feel very safe leaving the country.  I don’t feel very safe leaving my house these days.  So do I shrivel up and waste away hoping somebody will save me.  What have I done to deserve all this I’m not sure.  I’ve spent over three years clocking in hundreds of miles running around desolate and abandoned areas of Chicago.  What am I really afraid of at this point?  Dying alone and forgotten?  I feel dead inside already every day.  I have no hope any of this will change no matter how much we sit and argue about it.  Nobody does anything.  Nobody is out there with me other than the people close to my heart.  Nobody invites me to a special club other than me at my kitchen table on a Saturday morning.  For all the good I’ve done I’m still the first person to scapegoat as ‘problematic’ after all these years.  And I can’t even profit off it on the internet?  That’s a joke.  If listening to all these criticisms and taking them to heart got me where I am why do we still pay so much attention to Dave Chapelle’s career and for profit opinion?  I’m invisible.  Just like all the victims out there who are invalidated when somebody says they’re over reacting to sexual abuse and harassment.  I think America has enough problems that nobody wants to confront without us having an opinion about any other country’s sovereign dirty laundry.  And this is where I think we can all learn a little something about progress.  I got to where I am by believing in myself and resisting people’s judgements of who I am.  I got there by challenging my own perspective and growing into my own by putting my ideas into practice.  It hasn’t been easy.  It has been largely thankless and a complete mind fuck.  But I haven’t been alone as much as it seems.  People use so many words and get nowhere.  And then people learn how to communicate without ever opening their mouth.  People can say they love you all day long.  I’m always going to be out here showing you just how much it means to me regardless of who sees it and how they feel about it.  In that I err on the side of consistency.  If that makes me a loser I’m happy with the results.  <3 Tim