#and who has a thoughtful critique! always welcome

[whiskeyswifty]

Thank you for answering so thoughtfully :) I’ll have to check out some of the critics you mentioned. And yeah it seems like my IRL fan circle just feels differently so that’s my reference point. As always thanks for your thoughts!

No problem! The NYT Popcast is always my favorite for music criticism, especially when they get the gang together (jon caramonica, joe coscarelli, karen ganz, JP, and bonus favs Wesley Morris and Lindsay Zoladz) and often times you can't tell if they like it or not because they'd rather just discuss it on merit. i always read anything they all write as well. Pitchfork everyone knows is the basement halsey wished would collapse in one of the funniest twitter misfires ever lmaooooooo. classic. they're also a really really thoughtful and critical site that rates albums quite controversially, but just know they err on the side of indie stuff so mainstream isn't really their forte (i.e. expect them to be harsh on your pop girlie favs). Switched on Pop features the Vox musicologists and songwriters who break down songs more from a craft angle, always fun. There are others i can't think of, or they're colleagues who i don't really want to put out there cuz swifties are very trigger happy with the hatemail and doxing soooo.... i'm protective of them.

I enjoy engaging with you as well and discussing the different experiences we both have. Also, just want to say the opinions of your IRL fan circle are just as valid as mine! our two circles might not have many overlapping traits that make for different responses to the same album, but they're all fans of hers and all of their opinions are equally as valid. i probably should have been more specific about how i personally felt the general feelings about midnights were meh in my post, and less implying that everyone's experiences mirrored mine. i still feel on the whole that folklore was received with rapturous applause and midnights less so, and i don't want to discount your experiences but i don't want to discount my own either. ultimately, there are always better ways for me to be less generalizing as i ramble about my experiences, and i very much appreciate you reminding me of that and i'll try to keep that in mind for future posts!

#i've had some real bone head anons lately so always nice to have someone genuinely interested in discussion #and differing experiences and takes #and who has a thoughtful critique! always welcome

[thegoldencontracts]

Is Azul Actually Kind?

I know how it sounds but pleaseee hear me out.

Azul isn't kind. That seems to be pretty obvious, right? His benevolence is clearly a facade, meant to hide the selfish, cunning nature lurking within.

I thought that too. But then I saw something that made me question it.

Namely, Azul's Platinum Suit Vignette, where he looks at the Sea Witch's actions regarding Ariel, and calls it 'tough love'.

He isn't talking about himself, he has no reason to fib. He even brings up his Grandma, making it pretty evident he's being sincere. He views the Sea Witch's actions - punishing deal breakers and setting people on them - tough love.

And the Sea Witch's actions are remarkably similar to his own. He makes deals, and he punishes people who can't fulfill them. But there are some very interesting things that, to be, combine with this to bring about the theory that deep down (or maybe not so deep down) he views it as an act of tough love.

1. Azul almost never harms his clients in a truly crippling manner. The one exception to this is the Prefect, but I feel that's easily explained by the fact that this was shortly before his overblot, and like other characters, Azul too was behaving in a manner worse than usual.

Other than that, though, his punishments are typically servitude, or giving up a talent. Keyword: a talent. Not the thing itself. Someone with a good voice who gives it up doesn't become voiceless, they just start sounding hoarse. This is proven during his backstory.

2. Azul comes from a place where 'survival of the fittest' reigns dominant. This is proven during book 6, where he mentions being hypervigilant and a risk of predators under the sea. This was also heavily implied by the twins.

To him, people who don't understand not to trust others likely seem misguided - especially considering his childhood.

3. Azul and Riddle have a lot of Parallels

This one is interesting. If you look closely, Azul and Riddle share many similarities: Sophomore Housewardens, Honors Students, completely broke down during their overblot rather than still concealing their emotions, tyrannical behavior over underlings, heavily implied eating disorders, incredibly hard-working despite their smug appearance, being short-tempered, the list goes on.

Riddle also truly believed that he was doing a service to the students of Heartslabyul by enforcing the rules the hard way. He likely viewed it as a form of tough love.

And so, Azul being kind in his own, odd way starts to make sense. It would give him another parallel to Riddle. And his 'survival of the fittest', bootstrap-pulling upbringing may be he doesn't actually find his actions that cruel, if anything, he genuinely may believe he's doing them a favor by teaching them early on not to trust others, to only make deals they know they can keep. And he's not exactly crippling them, so it's better him than someone who will.

So yeah, maybe Azul really does think he's being kind - at least, deep down.

Discourse, critique, and requests for proper citation are always welcome!

#azul ashengrotto #twisted wonderland #twst azul #twst analysis

[wardenparker]

Hummingbird Has Landed, ch 1

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

After the debacle of his failed engagement and relocating to Washington to take charge of his task force, newly minted Special Agent Marcus Pike is ready to get back out into the dating pool once more. A slew of bad dates has him feeling a little down, and he takes an old friend up on an invitation to get away and get his head on straight. Imagine his surprise when he finds not only fresh air, but his soulmate as well - hiding in plain sight but in the unlikeliest of places.

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 14.4k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: occasional mention of American politics, pregnant character, food/alcohol consumption, mentions of clothing/regulated dressing for occasions, mentions of therapy because we believe in self care here, reader is in a previous relationship, love triangle* Not much for this chapter! Mostly fluff, a little flirting, and playful but on-point use of the term 'tramp stamp'. Summary: On a failed date at the local market, Marcus runs into an old friend and gets an invitation to visit. The beautiful inn and fantastic food were explicit in the invite -- but you are a complete surprise to him. Notes: Welcome, welcome, welcome my lovelies! As a girl who grew up on The West Wing and fosters an unapologetic love of all things romance, a story like this has been on my wish list to write for a very long time. I hope you're all ready for a cast of new characters and the grand appearance of Pedro's character from Graceland, because it's time for Marcus Pike to meet his soulmate! 🧡🧡🧡

There’s something about the hustle and bustle of D.C., that while it can invigorate someone and inspire them to live life as fast as possible, it can also drain them. At least, that’s what Marcus Pike has learned from the last three years of therapy. That and he’s prone to rushing into relationships, being in love with love, as Dr. Barnes would caution him.

It seems sometimes as if he’s unlucky in love, despite the universe providing a perfect match for him, he’s never found her. Always looking, but also being open to loving someone who doesn’t share marks or scars. Someone who just wants a stable and steady man to worship them and give them the world.

He hasn’t dated in almost three years. His therapist had advised him to focus on himself. To work through his emotions of a failed college marriage, a failed engagement. To make himself happy with who he is before introducing another person into the mix. He had thought that’s what he was doing, but apparently he had been wrong.

Finally feeling ready to date again, he had dipped his toes back in the water. Only to have it backfire tremendously. So much so, that he finds himself walking around the Eastern Market on his own. His idea of a farmer’s market casual date obviously not a good one, according to the woman who had tossed the drink he had bought her on the trash and stomped off, abandoning him to feel like a fool.

Smiling faces beam back at him from the covers of glossy gossip magazines, flashing headlines critiquing fashions worn to the recent inauguration ceremony and parties. The new president and her family wave from above the fold of newspapers — the happy family that Marcus himself doesn’t have. Ignoring the rude reminder, he wanders through the stalls and vendors of Eastern Market aimlessly until he reaches the family-owned sweet shop that he’s been coming to for years now. They know him, and like him, and his sweet tooth knows no bounds. There’s another man at the counter just before Marcus so he stands back, but Jenny waves hello from behind the counter. “Morning Marcus! Gimme one second and I’ll be right with you.” She says, turning back to the order marked Juan in her big, looping handwriting. “Six cannoli, right? Two pistachio, two double chocolate, and two cherry chocolate?”

“Right.” The man in a corduroy jacket with his short hair trimmed neatly nods. “Thanks, Jen. The girls are going to be over the moon.”

Another reminder of a life he craves. Marcus frowns slightly and tries to remember what his therapist has told him. Everyone moves at their own pace. Just because he’s not juggling two kids, a dog and a lovely wife with his workload doesn’t mean he’s failing. It just means he’s not met the right person, soulmate or not.

The other man pays for his order and turns to leave but stops dead in the middle of a cordial nod when he sees Marcus standing a few feet away. Sure he had heard Jenny say hi to someone…but he hadn’t looked. Now though? He huffs a laugh at the ghost of his past. “Pike?” They’d been mistaken as brothers — or for each other — so many times back at the Academy that it would be impossible not to recognize Marcus Pike.

“Badillo?” It’s amazing to see the other agent, although he had heard that he had left the Bureau after a friendly fire shooting. He looks good though, and Marcus cracks into the first real grin of the morning since being left high and dry. “What the hell? How are you doing, man?” He asks, coming in for a friendly hug while being mindful of the box in Juan’s hand.

“Good! Good. Errands.” Juan huffs, returning Marcus’s hug with equal surprise and affection. The men had been quite good friends at one time, more than a few years ago now. “Pregnant wife gets whatever pregnant wife wants, ya know?” He grins, bright and shining. “When did you get back to DC?”

“Pregnant wife, huh?” Despite the knife to his heart, Marcus paints on a grin, happy for his old friend. “Three years ago.” He shrugs slightly. “Heading up Art Crimes now. How about you? I heard you got out.” He lifts his eyebrows, allowing Juan to talk if he wants or brush it off if he doesn’t.

“I did.” Juan nods, knowing that various stories circulated after he left the Bureau. Most of them false. “Decided to take a little road trip vacation to clear my head and ended up meeting my soulmate in Yosemite on day two of the whole thing, and I followed her East.” He shrugs, ever the unapologetic romantic just like Marcus. They had had that in common. “How’s Lara?” He asks, remembering the woman that had been Mrs. Pike during their Academy days. Marcus had been over the moon for her. “Is she liking being back?”

Marcus grimaces a little and shrugs. “She’s, uh, we got divorced about ten years ago.” He tells him. “She found out she did have a soulmate.”

“Ah shit.” Blowing out a breath and shuffling his feet, Juan rubs the back of his neck self-consciously. “I’m sorry, man. That’s—there’s just no easy way to get through something like that.”

“It’s okay.” Marcus had loved Lara, but he wasn’t going to stand in the way of soulmates. It wouldn’t be right. “It was actually a very easy divorce; she hated hurting me. More than I can say for the last date, or last fiancée I’ve had.”

“Shit.” Juan huffs again, shaking his head in disbelief. “It’s eleven in the morning but I feel like I ought to be buying you a drink, man.” Hearing that someone as genuinely good as Marcus Pike is has had his heart bashed so often is a fucking bummer, and Juan chews on his lip for a second before his head tilts in that Universal signal of natural curiosity. “I’ve got time today. If you want to hang out? Catch up?” He offers, knowing that drinks will most likely come later if the two old friends spend the day getting back on the same page.

Marcus chuckles, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Do I look that dejected?” He asks, even though he’s not really looking for an answer. “I was supposed to be on a date, I figured a farmer’s market/brunch date would be easy enough and yet thoughtful, but I was ditched.” He snorts. “I have zero luck it seems.” He nods his head towards the cannoli. “But you can’t leave your pregnant wife waiting on those.”

“No, I can’t.” Sydney is waiting back at the restaurant with bated breath, he knows that, but he does offer Marcus a smile. “But she does run a restaurant, so you don’t have to be brunch-less unless you choose to be.”

“Yeah?” He perks up at the idea of trying out a new place, always loving brunch foods. “Where at? I might have to take a spin over there.”

“Her place is called Il Corvo.” It takes a second, but Juan digs a business card for the restaurant out of his jacket pocket and hands it over. “It’s the in-house restaurant at The Inn at Jones Point in Alexandria.” He reports proudly, always ready to brag about his soulmate’s amazing success. Running a restaurant is no small feat. “I know the card says the dining room opens at 4pm, but ignore that. She does brunch for guests at the inn and for special guests from time to time.”

“Are you sure?” Marcus frowns slightly. “I don’t want to impose.”

“It’s not imposing, trust me.” Knowing his wife as well as he does, Juan is more than certain she’ll be doting on Marcus in no time. “As long as you’re on board for Italian food, come by any time you want.”

“I’m out on the bike.” Marcus tells Juan, remembering how the other agent also loved to ride motorcycles. “I might swing by sometime. Normally go for rides on the weekend.”

"Anytime you want," Juan repeats, and he hopes Marcus understands how entirely he means it. "It's good to see you again, man."

“Good to see you too.” Marcus means that, smiling at the former agent. “Nice to see that you are okay.”

The two men part with a smile and a nod, and Juan hustles away to get his precious cargo back out to his soulmate. Maybe he'll pitch the idea of inviting Marcus to their next board game night if Sydney and her best friend don't mind the extra company. Not that they ever mind extra company.

Marcus doesn’t mean for it to be two weeks from the chance encounter with Juan before he steers his bike down the country, winding roads towards this inn that he had been told about. He had a case that required him to travel. Then it was reports and the never ending budget fiascos that new presidencies always bring, his boss wanting a new projections for the fiscal year for some reason.

Now though, he’s enjoying the scenery as the wind blows over his face and he leans into the curve, enjoying the small thrill that races up his spine from the inherent danger.

The winter has been mild so far and all the snow left behind by the storm the area had gotten while he was traveling has melted, making the ride an easy and calming one. He had intentionally driven a long route around Alexandria and the surrounding area, letting him arrive at his destination a little after noon on that cold, sunny Sunday. The inn is a large brick farmhouse, probably originally colonial but it looks like it was redone sometime during the Federalist architecture craze of the early 1800s. Now its clean white painted window frames and front porch are as welcoming as the pristinely kept front garden. The Inn at Jones Point proclaims a sign out front, which is accompanied by a smaller complimentary sign with an impressionist painted black bird that reads Il Corvo in an artistic script. There are cars in the lot with a plethora of states listed on their license plates, another motorcycle that he has to assume is Juan's, and a very government-issued-looking black car parked close to the building.

Marcus is enough of a romantic to fully appreciate the appeal of the property and more importantly, grounded enough to be able to appreciate it without having a partner here to enjoy it with. Since working with his therapist, he's spent a lot of the last three years 'dating himself'. Instead of waiting to make a date to try out a new restaurant, he goes by himself. Not limiting himself to new experiences with partners, he has found that he enjoys the hunt for the perfect spots to eat. The little Indian restaurant he had found is an absolute gem and he is looking forward to discovering a new little brunch spot. If this place is half as good as Juan says, he might make it a monthly habit while he can spend some time with his old friend.

Inside, the lobby of the inn is bustling. Guests sit in plush chairs with travel brochures or excitedly type on their phones. A family is gathered around a display of pamphlets for different travel experiences and tourist attraction. Another guest is hovering around the front desk, seemingly waiting for someone to return.

From the rooms off to the left, wave after wave of stunning smells wafts past Marcus as he looks around. A set of French doors stands open but the hostess stand for Il Corvo stands empty while a small number of diners sit inside, happily chattering over their meals. The scent of fresh coffee permeates everything else just a second before he can see why, as a woman in a blue silk shirt comes around the corner with two travel cups — presumably full of coffee — for the guest standing at the desk.

“Here we are, Mrs. Richards. Thank you for your patience, the pot was just finishing brewing. These will keep you nice and warm while you walk around Old Town.” Smiling as the woman walks away, your eyes survey the room and land on the new arrival with a touch of confusion. “Good afternoon,” you greet, in your typical sunshiny tone. This man isn’t a guest and you genuinely almost thought it was Juan for a second — even though you just saw Juan in the restaurant. “How can I help you today?”

“Hi— uh, I—” Marcus realizes he knows you. Your mother’s picture hangs on his office wall next to the current FBI director’s, and furthermore, it’s hard to not see the darling First Daughter in some news story – although it doesn’t seem like you enjoy the press. “Yeah, sorry, Juan said that brunch is served here?” He asks with an apologetic smile. “I’m Marcus, uh, Pike. We were in the Academy together and I ran into him a few weeks ago.”

You’re prettier than he ever imagined the pictures and news reels, your voice curling into his stomach pleasantly. In true, Marcus Pike fashion. He finds himself instantly intrigued by you.

“Oh, you’re Marcus!” As bright and cheery as you sound, something flips in your stomach and clenches at your chest and you swallow down the oh god he’s really hot impulse that you haven’t felt in…well, in years. This guy looks like someone took Juan and gave him broader shoulders and better hair, and put a little bit more James Dean in his style. “It’s really nice to meet you.” You introduce yourself, probably unnecessarily, but it’s good manners and keeps you from getting nervous or going off track. “Come on this way. Juan said you might be stopping by but he wasn’t sure when.”

“I’m sorry, should I have called first?” He asks, feeling guilty and slightly in the way. The last thing that he wants is to cause an imposition.

“Not at all.” You slip out from behind your desk and wave for him to follow you. “He’s been excited to introduce you to everybody.” The inn is a decent size, with the ground floor being public spaces and all the rooms upstairs being ready-made for guests except for the attic apartment, and you quickly lead the way through the rooms toward the restaurant kitchen.

“It’s been a long time since we’ve caught up.” Marcus admits. “We were close in the academy, most people through we were twins to be honest.” He chuckles slightly.

“I almost thought you were him when I saw you,” you admit, glad to know you aren’t alone in it. Juan had said they look alike but it really is extreme. “Here we are.” Humming as you push open the door to the restaurant’s bar, you huff a soft laugh when a woman slightly taller than you with masses of curls in a tight bun at the nape of her neck in a black suit sidesteps the pair of you and opens the kitchen door to look inside before letting you in. “Thank you, Agent Bailey.” As odd as it is to have constant supervision like this, you’re doing your best to be patient and understanding with it. “Come on into the kitchen,” you offer to Marcus. “Brunch is almost over and this is where Juan sits when he hangs out.”

“Really? The inner sanctum already?” The tone is joking, but Marcus knows that for a lot of chefs, the kitchen is their sacred place. He wouldn’t know, because his kitchen is used to make coffee, but he’s had a few relationships with amateur gourmet cooks.

“Marcus!” There’s no question that this is where he’s supposed to be, when Juan is waving from a corner of the kitchen and immediately zips over to say hello. “How are you, man? Good to see you!”

“Hey.” He grins when he sees the other man, obviously happier here than any time in the Bureau and he’s happy for him. He seems like a completely different man, just from the quick glance. Perhaps it’s the fact that he found his soulmate. “Sorry it’s been a few weeks. Got caught up on a case.”

“I completely get it,” he assures his friend. “It’s been kind of crazy around here anyway. Weddings booked every single weekend and the restaurant stuffed full with reservations.” He beams, proud as a peacock, and waves slightly as you disappear back out through the bar to return to your counter. The inn is full up with last night’s wedding party and you have your hands full. “I want you to meet my wife,” Juan says, clapping Marcus in the shoulder and pulling him further into the kitchen.

There are only two people cooking right now and they are both winding down. Enough that the petite woman with tied-up hair and a look of intense concentration on her face can look up and smile. “I hear you talking about me,” she warns with a laugh.

“Syd, this is Marcus Pike.” Juan introduces, bringing his friend out in front of him. “Marcus, this is Sydney. The gorgeous goddess the universe decided to grace me with.”

“Nice to meet you.” Again that pesky pang of longing lurches inside Marcus but he throws her a smile and takes her hand after she offers it immediately. “I’ve only heard angelic things about you, so rest assured, he’s not talking ill.”

“He’s does nothing but tell stories about you since you guys ran into each other at Eastern Market.” Sydney tells him honestly. “Can I make you something to eat?”

“I was hoping to experience the brunch option that Juan was bragging about.” Marcus admits as he glances around, admiring the state of the art kitchen. “Didn’t expect to see this from the historical facade.” He admits. “It’s charming though.” He adds, hoping that neither one of you take offense.

"Charming is her specialty." Sydney points her thumb in the direction of the door, indicating the main lobby of the inn. "We took over running this place about three years ago now. The previous owners weren't able to keep up anymore so they sold to her and we updated the restaurant. Modern Italian dinners and brunch for the inn's guests. It's a big step up from the B&B that this place used to be." Grinning proudly, Sydney moves over to the nearest counter and plops a paper menu down at the stool beside her husband. "What would you like?"

Marcus looks at the menu and lifts a brow, impressed by the sophisticated menu. This isn’t some little spaghetti shop that pretends to be Italian. “It’s been so long since I’ve had good Uova in Purgatorio.” He moans. “Since the last time I was in Naples.” He clicks his tongue. “But I want to try the ricotta pancakes too.”

"Then you will get both," Sydney insists, clicking her tongue and getting to work. "A G-man in Naples, huh?" She barely glances up from her work as she moves. "Art crimes must be the fancy branch of the Bureau."

“I work on international cases with Interpol and Scotland Yard.” He explains as he sits down and admires the fluidity of her movements in the kitchen. She’s completely at home in her space and it’s evident she’s in command. He’s slightly envious of her comfort in a kitchen, if he’s honest.

"Oh, so it definitely is the fancy branch." She laughs. Juan hops up from his seat to grab coffee for himself and Marcus, brushing a kiss on her cheek as he moves past, and the other woman who had been cooking moves away to the other end of the room to work on cleaning up from the brunch rush.

"Fancy branch of what?" The kitchen door swings open again and you come strolling back inside looking infinitely more tired than you had just a few minutes ago but still in a generally good mood. "The wedding party is finally gone. I am officially taking my break."

Marcus stares at you for a moment and then looks down at his hands, feeling like he might be bragging if he were to tell you what they’ve been talking about. There’s something about you that is knocking him off kilter, he’s normally a little more confident than this.

"Art crimes is swanky, apparently." Sydney tells you, never stopping or slowing as she moves around like a controlled whirlwind. "Eggs in purgatory and ricotta pancakes for your brunch? I'll make up a big batch." They're two of your favourite things anyway and it's easy enough to just make a double serving of each when she knows that your break time is always mealtime.

"That sounds incredible," you moan in agreement, making a beeline for the industrial refrigerator in the corner of the room to make yourself an iced latte that is far more espresso than milk. A generous swirl of flavored syrup joins your cup before you plop down on the edge of the counter and sip your drink with a happy sigh. Normally people exclaim over you when they realize they recognize you but Marcus Pike hasn't said a word — and you wonder if he doesn't recognize you from the papers or if you even care. It's nice to not have someone make a fuss for once. To just be nice and not suck up to you for being the President's oldest child.

“Weddings take it out of you, huh?” Marcus asks, smirking a little at the drink in your hand, although it looks delicious. “Or were they just demanding?”

"It was a big party. Very specific needs." Sipping your drink and finally sitting is immediately relaxing, and you're always ready to meet new people. Especially when they're someone that your best friend's husband speaks of so highly. "Nothing I can't handle, but weddings are always tricky. It's the most important day of at least one person's life, so you always want to try to make it as perfect for them as you can. Thankfully," you gesture around you. "I have an incredible team. Syd is the best Italian chef in the Chesapeake Bay and Juanito is an incredible event coordinator."

Marcus snorts and cuts his eyes over at Badillo. “He always did have an eye for details.” He admits, snickering at the nickname you’ve bestowed on the former federal agent. “Although it’s surprising that it’s manifested in wedding planning.” He teases playfully.

"Event planning," Juan clarifies, but he's grinning regardless. "We host a lot here. Weddings, anniversaries, holiday parties, all kinds of personal events. I get to put my organizational mind to work on it. It's actually pretty rewarding."

"Don't let him sell himself short. Juan plans a hell of a wedding." There is pride on your face, pride for your friend and in your work "We've gotten written up in a bunch of bridal magazines and on websites the last few years."

“Good job, Juanito.” If there’s anything that Marcus enjoyed more than the courses in the academy, it was busting his friend’s balls. All in good fun of course, he had taken his share of ribbing as well. It was par for the course. “That sounds like a hell of a job, making people happy and sharing in their special moments.”

"We do our best." Juan will never take the credit for himself, always attributing the effort to the team as a whole. This time, though, he flashes a knowing grin at you. "Although the next one we plan might be a hell of a lot bigger than what we do here."

“Oh?” Marcus asks, turning towards you. “Are you getting married soon?” His eyes drop discreetly to your hand and he tries to remember what he’s read about you but for some reason, he’s drawing a blank.

“No, Juan just likes to tease.” You shake it off with a roll of your eyes, knowing that — unfortunately — your friend is completely right. If or when it does happen, it will be a damn circus. “It’s this…guy that I met last year, and it’s been really good and he really took all the stress of the last year in stride, and these two love to tease.” In truth, you’ve been intentionally moving forward slowly with the junior Congressman from Maryland that you met at a campaign event you attended with your mother last year. Sam is a good guy and has big ideas for the future. It’s just that you normally dive into relationships so fast and so deep that your heart does all the talking before your mind can catch up. And now that you’re a public figure, you can’t afford to have that happen again. “I’m perfectly content to watch other people have their big days for now.”

“I can imagine that it’s hard to have a relationship right now.” He sympathizes. “The press either treats you like a darling celebrity or some kind of public spectacle, right?” He asks, curious as to your view on the entire thing. Personally, he hated the idea of politics taking on a celebrity flare and you aren’t on politics, your mother is.

“I’m honestly lucky that my younger siblings take some of the focus,” you admit. So he did recognize you. It’s nice that he didn’t fuss. You’re grateful for that. “My brother is in law school and my sister is in undergrad and they’re both living in the White House while they study but…yeah. We all agreed to give up our privacy for a while so Mom can do some good work. That means relationships aren’t easy right now.”

“It’s good you had a choice.” Marcus admits. “Sometimes I watch the campaigns for some of the politicians and it’s obvious the family would rather be anywhere else and are putting on a facade.” He shrugs, not wanting to delve too deep into a subject you probably are uncomfortable with. “Nice that you don’t have too much interference here, except for the Secret Service agent.”

"Agent Bailey's okay." In fact, she's sitting outside the kitchen door right now, giving you a bit of space and privacy to try to pretend you still have a halfway normal life. "We're still getting used to each other. I had somebody else during the campaign, but she's been assigned to my sister now. It all works out in the end." Smiling, you take another sip of your coffee and wonder why your stomach is fluttering over this very kind man who has been introduced into your lives very much by chance. It's...unsettling. To say the very least. "But that's plenty about me. How about you, Special Agent Marcus Pike? Where're you from? How are you liking Art Crimes?" You grin, throwing him a mischievous expression. "Who'd you vote for, for president?"

Marcus laughs, a real laugh that comes from his belly and he relaxes. “Let’s see…I’m from the great state of Texas - Go Rangers.” He ticks off. “I love Art Crimes, especially when we can recover sentimental pieces and keep “collectors”,” he uses air quotes, “from locking away art from being enjoyed by all.” He grins at your last question. “And my momma told me never to discuss politics or religion in social settings….but….my candidate is currently hanging on my office wall.”

"Rangers, huh?" Glossing over the not insignificant tidbit that he did, in fact, vote for your mother, you find yourself thoroughly enjoying getting to know this friend of your friend. It's usually not this easy to click with a new acquaintance, although you've become an expert at seeming interested just to be polite. That doesn't seem to be necessary at all with this man. "When we get our Phillies/Rangers series this year we'll have to come up with a bet of some kind."

“It’s gonna be a losing bet on your end.” Marcus predicts. “We’ve got Darío Álvarez and then Elvis Andrus is going to continue stealing bases.”

"Oh thank god," Sydney huffs, flipping ricotta pancakes on her griddle top and grinning as she throws you a wink. "She's finally got someone else to drag to baseball games. I'm free!"

"My alleged best friend," you smirk and decide to tease her back. "And her husband are both hockey people. So I'm generally either stuck watching the game on my own or dragging Syd along with promises of beer and ballpark dogs."

“Nationals aren’t my favorite team. Since they are National League.” Marcus smirks. “But I have season tickets since it’s too expensive to fly back to Texas for every game.”

It would be bragging to admit that you've been asked to throw the first ball out at the Nationals opening game this season as the most vocally baseball-loving member of the new First Family, so you just smile. You know it can feel like a big sacrifice to leave something about home behind. "Maybe I'll see you there," you offer instead. "The Nationals aren't my team either, but the game are pretty fun."

“Oh they always are.” He admits wholeheartedly. “Plus the Navy Yard is close so it’s always interesting.”

"Heeeeere we go." Onto the counter in front of you, Sydney heaps four plates of food – making each of you identical breakfasts. "The fruit compote for the pancakes right now is cranberry lemon. And I threw a little extra chili into the sauce for the eggs." She grins. "Some folks who stay at the inn say it's too spicy but it's how we like it," she tells Marcus.

Marcus chuckles and Juan snorts, hooking his fingers towards the agent. “This man ate his way through a five alarm chili contest and didn’t even touch his beer.” He boasts to the two of you. “If it’s not spicy, I don’t want it.” Marcus confirms with a grin. “Thank you. It smells amazing.”

"Then next time you're getting Calabrian chili instead of just the wimpy flakes." Sydney promises with glee. "That's how our girl likes it, but that's too much even for me most of the time. I have to be in the mood for it."

“You like spicy?” He asks, smirking towards you. “How do you feel about the Indian food around here?”

"There's a place in DuPont Circle that is probably the best Indian food I've ever had in my entire life." Even as you're getting ready to dig into your best friend's comfort Italian fare, your mouth starts watering thinking of curries and dal. "The kind of place where they don't make it really spicy until you've been there a couple of times and they know you can handle it. I swear I've eaten there more than I've cooked my own food since moving out here."

“Rasika’s?” Marcus groans, nodding. “I love that place. They make the best curry I’ve ever eaten in my life. I’m sweating, but I never tell them to bring me the yogurt sauce.”

"If you don't sweat while you're eating there, you're doing it wrong." It's a slight point of contention with Sam, who generally considers mustard to be too spicy most of the time, but you ignore the side eye you're getting from Sydney and dig in to your brunch. Having come in early today, this is halfway through your shift and you're going to be excited to head upstairs to your little attic caretaker's apartment when the time comes this afternoon. "Mmmmm," you groan happily and do a little wiggle in your seat unconsciously. "Syd, I swear. If you hadn't already married Juan, I'd marry you for your brunch."

Marcus takes that as the best kind of advertisement and cuts into his own meal to fork up a bite of the eggs. “Christ.” He groans as soon as the flavors hit his mouth. “That’s amazing.”

"I told you," Juan boasts, sitting up in his seat a little taller with pride for his soulmate. "She's amazing."

“You weren’t kidding.” Marcus huffs, taking another bite. “If this got out, you could run on brunch alone.”

"We're considering offering an incentive package for events." Starting to clean up, Syd watches the two of you eat while she wraps the kitchen up from brunch to get everything prepared for dinner service. "Wedding brunches are coming back in fashion, but a lot of people are wanting to do morning after brunches for their families before everyone goes their separate ways."

“I can see that.” Marcus nods. “Lara and I had a lunch thing before we all said goodbye, but that was casual.”

"Your wife?" You guess, struggling to remember if Juan had mentioned that his friend was married. He's not wearing a ring, but some men don't — a habit that generally rubs you the wrong way because those men are always the ones who basically want their wives to walk around wearing a giant 'I'm married' sign but will never show any outward signs of commitment themselves.

Marcus gives a small shrug and smiles self-consciously. “Ex-wife.” He admits, knowing that soon enough the pitying looks will start. “We divorced a while ago.”

Sydney clicks her tongue, having remembered that fact, and says nothing more. You, though? For some reason you can't help yourself. Something about Marcus Pike compels you to offer comfort in whatever way you can. "If you ever find another Mrs. Pike, you let us know. We've got you covered."

Marcus chuckles. “So far, that search has been in vain.” He admits. “Apparently it’s not in the cards for me.”

"She's out there." Juan offers with confidence. "If I remember correctly, you've even got a couple of tattoos to prove it."

Marcus rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I do.” He snorts. “If I ever find her, I want to know why there is a hummingbird tramp stamp on my lower back.” He laughs. “I get why, but why???? Why a hummingbird?”

A glare of questioning moves soundlessly between you and your best friend — the perpetually meddling woman who sat next to you when you were eighteen and challenged you to answer trivia questions while you had your own hummingbird tramp stamp inked onto your skin in celebration of your high school graduation. "Oh yeah?" She asks, raising an eyebrow at you while you furious try to communicate with nothing more than wide eyes that you do not want her to ask what she's about to ask. "What kind of hummingbird? How trashy are we talking?"

“It’s not exactly trashy.” Marcus defends. “It’s actually a pretty blue and green.“

"Interesting." Sydney hums, practically giggling with glee as she cleans up the kitchen and you bury your face in your meal like it will help you escape the entire conversation. "Maybe hummingbirds are her favourite bird?"

I'm going to kill you in your sleep says the glare you send your best friend's way.

“Totally trashed my punk rock image.” He laughs. “Although I didn’t think of that at the time. Thinking I’m this hardcore next Kurt Cobain rocker and I’ve got a hummingbird tattoo on my lower back.” He snorts, shrugging slightly. “But it’s always been a question I’ve wanted to ask. What made her choose that? What’s special about it to her?”

"Hummingbirds symbolize love and devotion," you murmur next to him, not quite looking up and wondering if the world is really turning on its ear right now or if it's just that you've been thrown off kilter by the possibilities. It's not like you're the only girl in the world with a hummingbird tattoo, after all. Far from it. "And they're supposed to be good luck."

“I like that.” Marcus hums softly. “It’s wistful, hopeful.” There could be a thousand different reasons why his soulmate chose that symbol to etch on her body and in turn, his, but he would rather it be a loving sign. You aren’t looking at him, and miss the small smile he throws you. “Poetic.”

"So she's gotta be out there somewhere." Sydney needles the point a little bit, sounding breezy as hell but just about ready to pounce on any clues Marcus offers up. "Maybe a hopeless romantic with a stubborn streak and an encyclopedic knowledge of Lost Generation authors and impressionist painters?" She shrugs like she's just pulled the example out of thin air. "Who knows?"

Throwing Juan a look, Marcus smirks. “Sounds like your husband has been talking about favorite kind of woman.” He jokes, although he’s pretty sure that he would love it if his soulmate turned out to be just that. “I just want to have someone that wants to be build a lift together. A partner.” He shrugs. “Most people think that it’s crazy, but I think that your significant other should be your best friend and your lover.”

"Absolutely crazy." With as clearly sarcastic a tone as she can possibly muster, Sydney practically deadpans in Marcus's direction. "So weird. How dare you want to spend your life with someone you loves you as much as you love them?" Every single thing she's described has been about you, and while neither of the guys are picking up on that for even a single second, the fact that you have your head down over your plate means you're reading her loud and clear. "I bet your dream girl will even have a thing for your old rockstar days," she goes on, as if she's stringing out a hypothetical and not explicitly describing your opinion that musicians are sexy as hell. "Don't tell me. You were a bassist, right?"

“And vocals.” He admits, shaking his head ruefully. “It’s alright if she doesn’t like that. God, it’s been years since I’ve picked up my bass.” He realizes. “I should do that. Between the bass or the motorcycle, I just spent more time on the bike.”

Bass. Vocals. And motorcycle? You practically groan out loud but barely manage to swallow the sound and instead hop up from your seat immediately to hopefully combine the noise you just made with all manner of other commotion. "Just grabbing another drink," you explain, when all three of their heads turn toward you at once. "You, uh...you should do what makes you happy, Marcus. If that's not overstepping things for me to say. We just met today. But I've always heard that the best things in life tend to fall into your lap when you're not looking for them. So maybe just...enjoy yourself? And who knows what can happen."

“That’s what I’ve been trying to do.” Marcus admits. “My therapist agrees with you. That we need to enjoy ourselves and not just search.”

"Our therapists agree with each other, then," you admit with a chuckle. "I started seeing someone when Mom decided to run for president. I figured it would be good to have someone to check in with and make sure I was handling my stressors in a healthy way." The conversations you had had with them about whether or not to factor your soulmate into future plans when you had never met them were slightly less straightforward.

“That’s always a good thing.” He nods quickly. “I’ve never been one to think that therapists are a waste of time.” He shrugs. “My mom was a therapist all my childhood.”

"It's an incredibly important profession. And an incredibly important resource to have." Seeing as Marcus's mug was empty as well, you bring back two glasses of water to the counter and sit down again, hoping that Sydney won't keep pushing. Or at least that she won't reveal things if she does. "My little sister is a psychology major. She's thinking about medical school next, and talking about different paths she might taken with her studies. Therapist being one of them."

“It’s a good profession.” Marcus admits easily. “Just- let her know, most therapists have their own therapists they see. It’s draining to take on everyone’s secrets and burdens, trying to do the best you can to give them the tools to help themselves. So tell her that there’s no shame in that.”

"I will." It isn't worth negating the kindness of Marcus's thoughts and advice by telling him that all three of the First Kids started therapy at the start of the campaign. It's the care he has for other people — people he has never met and may never meet ever in his life, that touches you so very deeply. "Thank you, Marcus. That's very kind of you."

He nods and picks up the glass of water, needing to wash down the remnants of the eggs before starting on the pancakes. “So, Juan, how did you and your lovely wife discover you were soulmates?” He asks curiously.

"Uhm..." Juan chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck and looking to Sydney for her permission to tell the story.

"Go ahead," she laughs. "I've go to start dinner prep. Tell him as much as you want."

"It's not exactly PG," he admits, still laughing softly to himself. "The polite version is that we compared tattoos."

Marcus isn’t the head of his department because he’s dimwitted. “One night stand?” He asks, lifting his brows in surprise. It wasn’t like he had never had them himself, but both men had preferred to be in relationships rather than sleep around. Not that he’s judging.

“I was willing to take whatever that goddess was willing to give me,” Juan admits without shame. “One night would have been a memory to cherish. But the universe said it should be a lifetime, instead.”

“I’m happy for you.” Marcus promises with a slap on the back for his old friend. “You deserve it. Glad you found her.”

“You say that now.” His friend smiles happily though, beaming at the commendation. “But now it’s going to be my mission to find you that girl with the hummingbird tattoo.”

Marcus smiles, a little sadly, but he just shrugs. “I’ll find her when I’m supposed to.” He reasons. “Knowing my luck, she’s happily married.”

“Not as happily as she would be with you.” He’s confident in that, and Juan looks to you to bolster his encouragements. “How could anybody not be ecstatic to have a guy this good, right?”

It feels rude. Like a trick from the universe that you do not like one bit. Like the powers that be are rubbing your nose in your defiance of their plans. “They’d have to be blind.” You offer, with a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. Sam is a good guy. He’s been a good boyfriend and has made you happy. Why are you suddenly thinking about someone else after an hour of knowing them? That’s utterly ridiculous. “You…never really know how the universe is going to have things work out.”

She’s just being polite. Marcus realizes that when he sees your smile, his stomach churning unhappily. It doesn’t matter, you’re seeing someone. A woman in a relationship has always been off limits to him. He doesn’t like, nor respect cheaters and yet he’s upset that you don’t seem that attracted to him. Or, you’re reluctantly attracted to him. He stares down at his pancakes and sighs. “All that matters to me if that my soulmate is happy.” He decides.

Juan and Marcus talk about this and that for the next few minutes, but you quickly finish your pancakes and excuse yourself. It was very nice to meet Marcus, and you tell him so, but you’re a little rattled by the possibility that was just laid out in front of you and you need a few deep breaths of fresh air before your break is over and you have to go back to solving guest’s dilemmas.

Juan doesn’t miss the way Marcus’s eyes follow you out of the room and he smirks. “Thinkin’ about it?” He asks, knowing you are the other man’s type.

“No.” He shakes his head quickly. “I mean, I would if she were single, but she’s not.” Deciding to change the subject, he leans in. “Did they heighten security here, or just the one agent?”

“Updated cameras and increased security personnel. We turned the spare office into a surveillance room but her Secret Service detail doesn’t butt in on anything they don’t need to.” Juan shrugs, knowing that things always change over time. “So far.”

That’s good and Marcus nods. “Sounds like you might have had some input.” He knows that Juan is very analytical, he would know what the weakness were in a place like this.

Juan snorts, taking a sip of his drink and shrugging vaguely. "My wife's childhood best friend is the First Daughter of the United States. If I can help her be safe, I'm going to."

“I can certainly understand that.” Marcus admits.

"It's a good system." Juan acknowledges. "She always has a detail agent nearby and the place needs the security because we've gotten a hell of a lot busier since the campaign last year."

“I’m sure.” Marcus snorts. “Everyone wants to claim they have some insider pull.” He says, a little cynical, but he looks around. “And I’m sure a lot of it is the fact that this place is a little gem.”

"272-year-old farmhouse with restored gardens and a barn and a gazebo from 1823. The place has had so many owners and been used for so many things." It's clear that Juan has nothing but affection for the place, and that he really has leaned into a fully civilian life. "I'm glad you came out to say hi," he tells Marcus honestly. "Hopefully we'll see more of you around here."

“With food like this?” Marcus groans, throwing his buddy a grin. “Those are the best damn pancakes that I’ve eaten in forever.”

"And considering you're a certified pancake expert, that says something." Juan chuckles. When Marcus hadn't shown up for a few weeks he was afraid that maybe he had said something wrong or that his old friend had moved on from the comradery they used to have, Apparently, neither was the case.

“Still love pancakes. It’s finding the time to eat them, that’s the problem.” He snorts. “It’s getting better now that I run the department, but after I ran into you? I was flying out two days later.”

"Sounds like you earned a day to relax." Sounds like he earned a lot more than just one day, but Juan knows how the Bureau works. A single day can sometimes be a miracle to come by. "There's books and board games in the library if you want to stay and spend some time relaxing."

“What do you have going on?” Marcus asks, tilting his head curiously.

“It’s…board game night.” As silly and domestic as it sounds, it’s a nice tradition that they’ve managed to keep going among friends. “Every month we have a group of friends over and we do a potluck for dinner. Just to unwind and be social. Just catch up, eat some good food, and play board games. You’re more than welcome to join us.”

“I don’t want to impose.” Marcus shakes his head, wondering if he’s so desperate that it sounds like great evening or if it just really was.

“It’s not imposing,” Juan assured him. “We bring new friends all the time. There’s about six of us usually, so it fluctuates depending on how many other people we bring or if someone can’t make it.”

“Well, is there a store or something?” He asks. “I can pick up some wine or something to contribute.”

“Old Town has some good liquor stores.” The historic district of Alexandria has become increasingly popular in the last several years, and the revitalization of the neighborhood has helped the inn as well.

“Anything else you could possibly want?” Marcus asks seriously. He’s willing to go get anything that could be thought of, the prospect of not spending the night alone incredibly cheering.

“Get whatever you want,” Juan encourages. “Every once in a while someone will show up with something they’ve never tried just try to it together. So really — anything you want.”

“Okay.” Marcus grins, excited about this and reaches out to slap Juan on the back. “Do you still ride bikes or have you given that up?”

"Hell no." Juan tuts, glad to see the smile back on Marcus's face. "My Indian is back at our house. We take rides when we've got time off together."

“That’s good. Although the rides have taken a pause since the pregnancy, right?” Marcus asks. “I can’t imagine a doctor signing off on a pregnant woman on the back of a bike.”

“Yeah…these days we take rides in the station wagon.” He chuckles at that, and Juan knows how ridiculously domestic it sounds but he really doesn’t care. He’s in love with his life in a very unexpected way, and that’s okay. “It’ll be nice to have someone to ride with again.”

“I can imagine.” Marcus is missing that, but on the bright side, he rides when and where he wants. “Do you guys know what you’re having yet?” He asks.

“Not yet.” Juan is excited, though, as evidenced by the way he lights up when asked about it. “It’s still too early to find out. Obviously we don’t care, as long as they’re healthy and happy.”

“Congrats, man, you’re living the dream, you know that?” As envious as he can admit to being, he’s also incredibly happy for Juan. “You deserve it. Especially after, you know…”

“Life is totally different now.” Leaving the Bureau is what was best for Juan. He knows that now, even if it was a painful decision to make back then. “I’m not going to ever downplay the things in my past, but the future is looking pretty fucking good, man.”

Completely understanding the fact that Juan doesn’t want to talk, he nods. “I’m happy for you. Truly.”

“I appreciate that, man.” Juan grins and pats Marcus on the shoulder. “Enjoy some time in town and come on back here around seven tonight. Syd isn’t working the dinner rush tonight so we’ll all be able to relax.”

“That sounds good.” The comfortable jeans and a sweater will still look sharp enough for game night and he sends his friend a smile before he walks out of the kitchen.

Things have calmed down in the lobby when you return to the front desk to pick up a few papers and check in on your concierge before retreating into your office for the rest of your shift. The inn may have calmed down but you're still spinning wildly on the idea that your soulmate might have walked through the door of the inn this morning with absolutely no fanfare and a nervous smile on his incredibly handsome face.

Nope. Stop it. Sam is coming for board game night tonight and you really fucking like him. Don't give up your whole stance on freedom of happiness just because some absolutely dishy FBI agent has your tattoo.

"Everything going okay, Malachi?" You will be professional, and not a blithering mass of nervous energy. Even if it takes all the energy you have to force it.

“Everything’s fantastic, we had another couple call to book a room for next weekend. So we officially will have no vacancies.” He reports proudly, like he had recruited the couple himself.

"Good. That's actually excellent. That means we have no vacancies at any point for two week on either side of Valentine's Day unless someone cancels." It's always possible. After all, break up happen around that particular holiday. But with the way they've been booking rooms lately, they should be able to fill a hole more easily than not. "I'm going to go to my office and work on the schedule. If you need me, just call."

“Of course.” Malachi cranes his neck as that handsome guy walks out to a beautiful motorcycle. “But before you go.” He hums. “Who is that?”

You can't help but chuckle, your concierge's obvious interest making you recognize the ridiculousness of the whole situation all over again. "That's Juan's friend," you tell him, gathering up your paperwork. "He'll be around more, and he's allowed into the kitchen. So you know he's special."

“And does Juan’s friend have a name?” He asks, smirking slightly.

"Special Agent Marcus Pike." You smirk right back at him, giving Marcus's title along with his name. By now Agent Bailey has probably done an entire workup on the agent. Why wouldn't she?

“Special Agent.” Because it’s the two of you and there’s no guest around, Malachi watches out the window with unabashed interest. “He can mount me like he mounts that bike any time.”

"Mal!" There's no reason for you to be taken aback by that comment considering how well you know Malachi Debose, but you still find yourself stifling a laugh with wide eyes. You tell yourself to joke, ignoring the twist in your chest at the idea of Marcus with anyone else. It's not up to you. He's his own person. And he might not even be your soulmate to begin with! "I'm pretty sure he's straight, honey, but you never know. It would not be the first guy you've swept out of the closet who didn't even realize they were in there in the first place."

He sighs dramatically, even though he’s smirking proudly. “You’re right.” He admits. “We’ll see how mister Special Agent Marcus Pike acts and then I’ll decide.”

"Behave yourself." Is the playful warning you give him before turning and nodding to Agent Bailey. "Time to sit in the office while I swear at my computer," you tell her. As the Secret Service agent who is with you most of the time, Kendra Bailey has learned your past, your friends, your job, and your habits like a book. She appreciates that you're not throwing yourself into politics because it means her days are a little calmer than they could be, but the coming and going of all sorts of people through the inn on a daily basis presents its own challenges.

She nods, already curious about the FBI agent that she’s encountered here. It’s not unusual to run background checks on people who continuously hang around the inn, and it sounds like he will become a fixture for the foreseeable future. “Of course, Hummingbird.”

You groan softly, realizing that that is going to get said around Marcus Pike at some point or other, and just try to shake it off for now. "You can call me by my name around here, you know." She won't. You've had this conversation more than once, but sometimes you think you'll never get used to being ma'am or Hummingbird at all times to your Secret Service detail.

“Yes ma’am.” She nods, both of you aware that she’s not going to break protocol like that. Instead, she’s turning to the chair that has been placed outside your office, tucked into a discreet corner so it’s not completely obvious that you are being guarded. Giving you the illusion of privacy.

"Someday I'm going to get you to at least come into the office." There are rules. A hell of a lot of them, in fact, and you know that they exist for a reason. But Agent Bailey is allowed to be in your office with you, and you hope it won't take your mother's entire first term in office for her to get comfortable enough with you to do that.

“I understand that, but if I’m in your office, you won’t concentrate.” She reminds you with a small, unseen smile. The first time you had insisted, you hadn’t gotten anything done.

"Too social for my own good, I guess." With a small smile exchanged between the two of you, you nod in agreement before heading down the hall to your office. She's right, and you both know it.

Outside, a snazzy sports car pulls up. Not too flashy, because a junior congressman from Maryland can’t be seen throwing money away frivolously, but sporty enough to make him grin as he changes gears. The door pops open, sunglasses tossed on the dash and Sam hustles out of his car, eager to see you.

"Hey Sam." Malachi looks up from the desk when the door opens and offers up a smile. Professional, but friendly. So far, Congressman Chase hasn't done anything to warrant the cold shoulder. "Is she expecting you?"

“Not until later, but I was hoping to surprise her.” He admits, sending the concierge a wink. “She in her office?”

"Just went in to work on the schedule." Malachi reports, but his smile morphs from professional to earnest in half a second. "The new software is giving her a headache and a half. I bet coming in with a cup of coffee with also be a welcome surprise."

“You are a good man, Malachi.” Sam slaps the antique reception stand and grins. “Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.” He lifts his brows and points at him as he changes directions to the kitchen to beg a cup of coffee from Sydney.

A knock on the kitchen door is odd but not unheard of, and Sydney glances back over her shoulder when the swinging door pushes open to admit the six-foot Congressman she now affectionately calls, "Sam Sam! As happy as I am to see you, your lady friend is not in the kitchen."

“I know.” Sam tosses the chef an easy grin. “A little birdie told me that she might appreciate a cup of coffee, so I’m here to be her runner.”

Sydney smirks, never ceasing in her work but nodding to the coffee pot in the corner of the kitchen. “Go right ahead. I’m sure she’ll be grateful.”

“Thank you.” He immediately beelines for the coffee maker, intent on also making himself a cup. Though he would prefer a cocktail. “It smells great in here, like always.” He tosses over his shoulder.

“Flattery will get you everywhere.” She hums happily in return. “I made a lasagna for game night. Are you staying?”

“Unless an emergency session is call.” Sam snorts. “And you know half those crusty old bastards don’t want to work.” He adds some creamer and sweetener to his, doctors yours and turns back. “Is this the lasagna with the pancetta?” He asks, giving her a pleading look.

“It is, and I did a little something different with the ricotta layer this time, so you’ll have to tell me what you think.” One hand shoos him playfully away, but she does laugh. “I’ll feed you later. Go see your lady.”

“Thank you!” He laughs as well, zipping out the door to head in to see you. Hopefully you aren’t working on anything too important that you can’t steal away some time for him.

Two short knocks on your door could be anyone, but you save your progress in working on next week’s schedule and call for them to come in. It’s probably Malachi with a guest accommodation question, which is no problem. You can hit pause on scheduling the housekeeping staff around their various class schedules to answer just about anything.

After getting the okay to enter, Sam juggles the cups and pokes his head in the door. “Can you spare a few minutes, beautiful?” He asks.

The grin that spreads on your face is surprise and relief, and you hop up from your dream to open the door fully. “If that’s coffee in your hands, I can spare more than just a few.”

“Of course it is, fixed just the way you like it.” While he doesn’t drink it nearly as sweet as you do, he also doesn’t make fun of you for it.

“To what do I owe the early visit?” The door clicks shut behind him and you sit back in your chair with a happy sigh.

“We let out early.” Sam explains. “Figured we could spend some time together .”

“I’m always glad to see you.” It’s true. It genuinely is. Which is why you hate the nagging guilt of the fact that you had just been telling yourself to stop speculating about your possible soulmate and focus on work.

“That’s a good thing.” Despite the idea that dating the First Daughter was good for his career, Sam genuinely cares for you. It might not be the passionate love he had imagined years ago, but he’s mature enough to understand that a solid connection was a good thing.

“So your meeting went alright?” The committee that he’s on had an unofficial lunch meeting today, which must have gone well if he’s already here saying hello. “I was afraid they’d have you all day and you’d miss out in lasagna and the new Clue game that Sydney’s sister picked up.”

“No.” Sam snorts. “They wanted it done as quickly as possible.” He tells you. “I’ve got to admit that I’ve never seen people that hate to work more than politicians.”

“Well that’s hardly encouraging,” you snort, and shake your head before taking a sip of hot coffee. “I guess you’ll just have to whip them into shape, Congressman. No two ways about it.”

“I’m trying.” He laughs and shrugs. “Right now I equate it to herding cats.” He jokes, sitting down on the other side of your desk and watching you for a moment while you savor your coffee.

“That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever called a member of the House of Representatives.” The two of you share a laugh, and you shift in your seat a little with an awkward expression before talking again. “I…got an email this morning. From Mom’s office. Informing me of my first few expected photo ops as First Daughter.” It’s a big part of the job, for you at least, to look the part and play the part and help the country to see your mother as not just the president, but a family-oriented professional as well. Being the first female President has its challenges and your mother is plowing into them head on. Which, honestly? You give her a lot of credit for. “They asked if I would be willing to release some social media photos from our Valentine’s date…” The fact that you hadn’t planned one yet is slightly beyond the point. Now you pretty much have to.

“Well, what kind of pictures would you like?” Sam asks easily, aware that you don’t relish the attention, but it’s part of the job. “We can do a dinner at home, appeal to the base of Americans.” He suggests.

“I don’t love the idea of someone recognizing an aspect of your house or neighborhood and you getting doxed for it,” you admit ruefully. It would have to be Sam’s house, since you don’t actually have one. You can’t exactly put out photos of your attic apartment and expect the White House press core not to make noises. “I was thinking we could put the spotlight on a minority-owned small business or go to some low-key arts event? If they’re going to ask me to be in the spotlight then I want to use it for good.”

“Do you want to decide?” He asks, aware that you can be quite choosy at times. He doesn’t really mind. “Or do you want me to come up with something?”

“It’s probably easier if I figure it out.” You admit. It’s not your favorite option, all things considered, but since it’s dumb for you to be even vaguely upset that your boyfriend didn’t announce he had secret plans already in the works — which your stupid romantic comedy loving brain had hoped for but knew was a longshot — it’s better to just be practical. “So the Secret Service can tell me if wherever I pick is insecure or something like that. Even though I can’t imagine that anybody is out to get me. That’s absurd.”

“You’d be surprised what humans are capable of.” Sam reminds you, having read some of the most horrific reports imaginable. He likes that you are practical, even if you are a bit naive.

“Not a super fun thing to hear from your boyfriend, but okay.” It’s nothing you can’t brush off, and you do so with a wave of your hand. “There is also a state dinner coming up in a few weeks that I definitely do not want to go to without you.”

“I’m available.” He promises. “I’ve got a couple of events in my district coming up. But I’ll mark that on my calendar.”

“Thank you.” Though you aren’t blind to the ways that attending these things helps him, you appreciate the company. You aren’t effortlessly charismatic like your brother or a star student with enigmatic insights like your sister. You’re the least comfortable in the public eye out of your whole family, and that is what it is. At some point in the night when he inevitably veers off to shake hands and schmooze politically, you’ll sit quietly at your table and smile politely while you wait for Sam to come back, and that’s okay. “I really really appreciate it.”

Sam huffs, sending you a small smirk. “A night where you are wearing a beautiful dress, we eat an elegant dinner, what’s not to love?” He leaves the part about making connections unspoken, both of you know how this game is worked. “And maybe you can come spend the night at my place after.”

"What an absolutely scandalous suggestion." One hand clutches your nonexistent pearls, pretending to be aghast, but you throw him a wink. Intimacy in your relationship unfortunately does have to be scheduled at a certain point...just on the basis that you have a Secret Service agent you can't simply ditch, and he has a personal assistant that might be even more invasive than the Secret Service. "I love it."

“Good.” Sam smirks back at you and sends you his own wink. “I’ve missed a cute little snore, and I need to get some cuddling in.”

"I do not snore." Despite pouting at him – and knowing that you do, in fact, snore – you end up grinning. "But we have been low on cuddle time lately, I agree."

“Yeah, I know my job is hectic and yours isn’t a walk in the park.” He acknowledges wholeheartedly. “But I want this to work. Maybe we just need to move in together.” He hadn’t meant to just blurt that out, but he’s been thinking about it.

“I—what?” You nearly spit out the sip of coffee you had just taken and sit up arrow straight in your chair, staring at him without the ability to stop yourself. “You—you want me to—to move in with you?” It’s never been discussed. Not really. At least not with a timeline, and that’s probably your fault. You’re so prone to jumping into relationships head first that you had told yourself you would move slow with Sam. That…seems to not be the case now.

“It doesn’t have to be now.” He promises. “Just something to consider. That’s all. We would get more time together.”

"I can honestly say I was not expecting that today." It's shaken you up a little, if you're honest, but you reach over your desk and squeeze his hand before leaning out of your chair to kiss him.

“That’s not a bad thing, is it?” It’s not quite the reaction he was expecting, if he is honest with himself.

"No, not at all!" You're quick to reassure him, realizing that Sam's expression is a little more guarded than usual. You've disappointed him. That's not a feeling you like at all. Not even a little. "I'd say the fact that my boyfriend wants to spend more time with me is a very good thing." If it's such a good thing, why is your mouth dry and why are you all tense with nerves? "And I want that, too. You just surprised me, that's all."

“Of course we need to talk about it more in depth.” He relaxes slightly, happy that you are at least open to the idea.

"Is that...something you want to talk about soon?" There are ideas rolling over in your head with varying levels of comfort, but the fact is that you hadn't realized that Sam was already there. Sure you had said your I love yous already, but you really had been trying to go slower this time, and that pace had seemed to suit Sam just fine. And why is it suddenly now that your mind is stuck on the idea that he isn't your soulmate? Is it just because you met a man who could be? You had always told yourself it didn't matter before now...

“We are coming up on our one-year anniversary of dating.” He reminds you, wondering why all of a sudden you look like you’ve seen a ghost. He’s been patient, letting you move slowly since you were afraid of diving in too much too soon, but this is the natural next step. Otherwise, it will be random sleepovers whenever you can manage it for the rest of your lives and Sam doesn’t want that. “I figured we could discuss what our next steps were.” He smiles softly. “I want the next steps, whenever you’re ready.”

"You're right." He is right. The logic is there, and the sweetness, and you do genuinely like him. In fact, loving him came easily and naturally. It's just that today has you a little shaken up and you don't want to admit it to yourself. Any other day and you would have been ecstatically throwing yourself into his arms. "You're absolutely right. This is definitely next." Composing yourself into a smile and reminding yourself to goddamn relax, you pick up your now cold coffee and finish the cup. "Why don't we pick a night this week to cook dinner together and talk through what we want our future to look like?"

“That works.” He flashes you the boyish grin you claim to love and nods. “Little food. Little wine, little….cuddling while we talk. It’s exactly what we need. You’ve been peddle to the mettle lately, and so have I. It will be good to decompress and hash out our concerns.”

"Perfect." And you will, you tell yourself sternly, get your shit together by then.

“But tonight…” he winks at you. “I’m going to whoop your ass at Clue.”

Because it's your turn to host, your small apartment has been cleaned top to bottom in preparation for the night. Sydney took care of making dinner, you have dessert in the refrigerator, and you have it on the authority of the group chat that garlic bread and salad are both coming as well. Juan said he and Marcus were supplying drinks, so everything is set up with plenty of time for everyone to arrive.

Agent Bailey is sitting on the couch waiting for her evening relief so she can go home to her own family and Sam is setting a stack of mismatched plates on the dining room table when Juan, Marcus, Sydney, and her sister Anna Leigh all show up very promptly on the turn of the hour.

Marcus is a little nervous aware that he has a tenuous tie to the game night, but he is quickly at ease when everyone starts greeting people like old friends. He hadn’t quite known what to get, so he had bought several bottle of whiskey and wine, figuring someone would appreciate it. The bottle of ‘76 Statesman Reserve a personal favorite of his and the little store he had stopped at had one last bottle.

"Hey, we didn't scare Marcus off!" Maybe you're a little happy to see him, but you excuse that as being glad that Juan has his friend back and ardently ignore the way your chest clenches when he walks into your little apartment.

“Hope you don’t mind.” He offers instantly, holding back from flirting like he wants to. You are seeing someone. “But I brought gifts.” He holds up the bottle, the others in his bag.

“Statesman.” You practically groan with delight at the sight of the bottle. “When we were campaigning in Kentucky, my little brother and I toured their distillery, I love this stuff.” Fighting the instinct to offer him a hug — and it really is an instinct — you grin and wander toward the kitchen to complete introductions. “You already know Syd and Juan, of course. The beautiful agent of chaos currently throwing garlic bread in the oven is Syd’s sister Anna Leigh, and the intimidating lady on the sofa with the New York Times crossword in her lap is Agent Bailey. I don’t know if you two officially met earlier or not. Looking around, Sam is not in sight, but you chew your lip for a second and smile. “My other half seems to have disappeared, but I’m sure he’ll be right back.”

“Oh, okay.” He shouldn’t be disappointed that your boyfriend is here. That’s what he keeps telling himself. “Congressman from Maryland, right?” Okay, he might have read up on you.

“Right.” There’s a note of something off in Marcus’s voice but you can’t figure out what, so you just smile. “I promise we don’t use official titles over board games.”

“Good.” He cracks a lighthearted grin. “I hate when I’m made in charge of the jail in Monopoly.” He jokes. He hands you the bottle and looks around the little apartment. “Anything I can do to help?”

“I think we’re just waiting for Issy and then everyone will be here. So for now if you want to maybe pour drinks while we all get settled?” This is always an informal setting and you want everyone to feel relaxed as much as possible. “Let me give you the grand tour first?” What a stupid thing to say in your little, tiny space. But now you’ve said it, so you just have to pretend it was something charming to say instead of awkward.

“That sounds good.” Marcus quickly agrees, although it’s obvious that there’s not much to the small space. “The private sanctum.”

“Eat it kitchen.” Is the space you’re standing in, with a too-big dining room table that is also your prep counter because there is basically no counter space — just enough to put a few grocery bags on and nothing more. “I have an unholy love of dinner parties, hence the big table. Over here is the living room. Mandatory bar cart with the tv, and as many throw pillows as the couch can hold.” Agent Bailey currently has her arm resting on the head of a pillow shaped like a horse that you brought back from a campaign trip out West. “Bathroom is down the hall, just here.” The door is closed, so that must be where Sam is. “And just turn the corner and you’re in the bedroom-slash-library.” You have to call it that — you really have to, because the entire room is covered in wall to wall bookcases that are pretty much entirely full. The only exceptions are where your sleigh bed and writing desk sit on opposite ends of the tight room. “It’s more library than anything else.”

“Obviously like to read.” He nods. “What genre? Or is it too embarrassing to mention in company?”

“I’m not embarrassed at all to read romance novels.” A whole section of the shelf by your bed is dedicated to them, in fact. Healthy sexuality and healthy explorations of that sexuality are vital, but you won’t get that far into the topic. “I have a lot of various things here, but the majority are probably mystery, thrillers, and classics from all over the world.” The shelf you’re standing by has your collection of writing by both F. Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald, and you smile. “Of course, some of the classics are romances. That’s to be expected.”

“They are. I find that if you limit yourself in what you read, you are missing out.” He looks over your shelf with interest. “It looks like a wonderful collection.”

“Thank you. A compliment for my books is the highest compliment possible.” There’s a warm smile on your lips when the bathroom door pulls open a few feet away and you feel like you’ve been caught although there isn’t a single thing wrong about showing a new friend around your apartment. There’s no reason to jump out of your skin, but here you are with burning cheeks feeling embarrassed.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Sam doesn’t frown, but he wonders who this man is and why he is in your bedroom.

"Hey." Your smile does widen of its own accord, and you motion between the men in a sort of vaguely formal way that is definitely odd for you. "Sam, this is Marcus. One of Juan's old friends. He came by the inn earlier today and we thought it would be nice to introduce him to the group." It's awful, and very unnecessary, how heavy your tongue feels when you go to make the introduction the opposite way. "Marcus, this is Sam. My boyfriend."

It’s a little awkward, Marcus can admit that but he extends his hand. “Nice to meet you, Sam.” He offers, smiling in a friendly, first meeting kind of way. “My connection to the group is through Juan.” He explains. “We were at the academy together.”

"Ah, a government man." That seems to win Sam's approval, though his handshake might be just a hair tighter than it would otherwise be based on the tension in the air. "Well, welc—"

"Babe!" Sydney's voice comes loud and clear from the other room as the door opens and the sound of chaotic friends can be heard. "Issy's here! Let's gooo!"

The introductions are interrupted and it’s probably not a bad thing. Marcus lets go of Sam’s hand and immediately makes for the door. “Guess that’s our queue.”

“Coming!” You call back, eager to be standing anywhere but your doorway between these two men. “Issy is a friend from college.” That’s the easy explanation you give Marcus as Sam steers you back to the kitchen with his hand on your back. “Syd, Anna Leigh, and Issy and I were suite mates at Mount Holyoke.”

Marcus nods, committing everyone to memory. “Nice to meet all of you. Thank you for letting me join you tonight.”

Getting everything set up doesn’t take much longer, and a buffet of cheesy garlic bread, a huge salad, Sydney’s pancetta lasagna, and the lemon tiramisu you made for dessert is all laid out on the counter. Everyone digs in and says a loud chorus of rowdy good nights when your Secret Service detail has its changing of the guard in the middle of it all. It’s a lot, and it’s chaos, but it’s so comforting because these are all people you love to spend time with. Even Marcus, as new as he is, fits right into the group effortlessly.

“Oh! Sydney.” Marcus dives back into the bag and pulls out a bottle of sparkling white grape juice and some sodas and grenadine. “I figured you might like my family’s version of Shirley Temple’s?” He offers. “So you can have a mocktail with the ladies?”

“Absolutely!” Syd’s eyes light up at the offer, and she brings her overstuffed plate over to the table to sit beside her husband. In her favorite baggy sweatshirt, no one could ever tell she’s pregnant, but one of her hands rests on the side of her belly anyway. “That sounds fantastic.”

“So my grandmother used to make these for all the kids, so we could feel special too.” Marcus explains as he grabs a wine glass and starts to mix together the non-alcoholic drink. “It had to be sparkling grape juice because of the bottle shape.” He chuckles now, but back then? He had felt grown up. “When she died, we served these at her wake.”

“That’s so sweet.” Sydney awes softly as Marcus carefully pours out the drink. “These are Birdie’s favorite, actually,” she points her thumb back at you while she chats at him. “We usually spike them with rum, of course. To be a Shirley Temple Black. I can’t remember the last time I just had a regular old Shirley Temple.”

“A dirty Shirley?” Marcus gasps in faux horror. “The best way to spike that is with Statesman.”

“On it!” You hop up from the table immediately to grab a glass and line up next to Sydney at the counter. “I’ve heard of people doing them with rum and vodka, but never with whiskey. I have to know.”

He chuckles and nods. “You won’t regret it. The grape juice plays off the smoky, oaky flavors very nicely.” He tells you. “It’s almost better than a robust bouquet on a red.”

“I can’t claim to know anything about wine, but I’m trying to learn.” Sam prefers wine, and you’ve been trying to not feel foolish when people discuss wine pairings at official dinners. It’s been a fairly deep learning curve. “But I’ll take your word for it.”

“More of a whiskey girl?” Marcus asks, filing away the information even though it’s not like he’s going to use it. One of those odd little quirks of his time in the Bureau, he tries to read people.

“Always have been.” As evidenced by the Whiskey Makes Me Frisky sweater still stuff in your closet from college, which won’t see the light of day again until your mother is out of office. “You too?” Your eyes widen immediately and you stumble over correcting yourself. “Guy, I mean? Whiskey guy?”

Marcus laughs and gives you a guilty grin. “I learned to enjoy wine. My ex was a wino to the point where we honeymooned in Napa Valley.” He snorts. “But my first love was a Jack and Coke.”

“The next time you’re sick, have a whiskey and ginger beer.” The advice comes as he hands you your glass but he looks skeptical. “I mean, it’s a good drink no matter what, but I swear it knocks out my colds faster than anything else.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Marcus hums and decides that he will make one for himself. “Tell me what you think.”

One sip has you groaning, and you bring the glass back to the table like you’ve found the Holy Grail. “Sammy, try this. I know you’re not usually big in whiskey, but this is fantastic.”

Sam wrinkles his nose, really uninterested in trying it, but he politely takes a sip. Pleasantly surprised, he makes a face. “Huh. That’s not as horrible as I imagined.”

“And that,” you look back at Marcus and laugh. “Is the highest compliment he’s ever given a whiskey drink.”

Marcus chuckles politely and motions towards the table. “There’s a nice Cabernet that he might like better.” He offers.

“That sounds perfect.” You move back to the counter to collect a wine glass, corkscrew, and the bottle to bring back, knowing that Sam will open it far more neatly than you can.

“So how has everybody been?” Prompting conversation once everyone is at the table gets the ball rolling nicely, and conversation starts as everyone starts to eat their dinner.

“Well, everyone knows that Sydney is expecting.” Juan boasts proudly, obviously loving the prospect of becoming a father. “But she started experiencing her first cravings.”

“Oooo, what are they?” Issy sits up in her chair immediately. “Please tell me it’s something non-gourmet. If this baby is a food snob I’m not going to have anything to tease you about.”

“Right now….” Juan grins and sends his wife an utterly besotted look. “Ranch flavored bugles.”

“Oh my god!” Both Issy and Anna Leigh practically scream with laughter immediately and your jaw hits the table with maniacal giggle.

“I know,” Syd moans in embarrassment. “I know! The baby likes ranch!”

“There must be a joke there somewhere.” Marcus laughs, enjoying the lighthearted atmosphere of the group and how they are all so easy with each other.

"Syd's current greatest fear is having a kid who doesn't care about food." You explain, picking up a forkful of lasagna. "If they turned out to not like food or hockey, she'll be doomed."

“I see.” He chuckles, although he himself had a less refined pallet when he was younger. Now he enjoys trying new things.

"They're exaggerating." Sydney promises, not wanting her husband's old friend to think she's that much of a snob. "Obviously no kid comes out loving caviar and oxtail."

“No, I can see why you would expect your child to give you cravings for something like this.” He praises, lifting a forkful of the lasagna. “I gave my mom cravings for salami and bologna. Which she couldn’t eat.”

"My mom had a lot of cheese cravings." Not expecting baby-oriented conversation was probably an oversight on your part, but it's fun and your best friend just absolutely glows whenever it's brought up. "With me it was gruyere, with my brother it was cheddar, and with my little sister it was asiago." The memory makes you grin, and you laugh a little, mostly to yourself. "She ate so many asiago bagels when she was pregnant with June."

“Ohhhhh I could see how that could be an easy craving.” Issy snorts. “I have cravings for those all the time and I’m not pregnant.”

"Right?" You're nodding in agreement instantly. "I'm honored that my pregnancy craving was gruyere. That's quality cheese."

“Maybe the craving will change to truffle cheddar fries.” Marcus suggests with a grin. “With ranch.”

“See, this is the kind of encouragement we should be thinking about. Positive thinking all the way.” Sydney grins, beaming across the table to her husband’s friend. Even if her hunch about the true nature of Marcus’s soulmate marks isn’t true, he’s still a good addition to the group. “What’s everybody else been up to.”

Everyone starts talking and Marcus leans back. Watching the dynamic of the group and it’s obvious that everyone is comfortable with each other. Talking over one another and laughing, poking fun in a gentle way. It seems as if Juan - and you - have a solid friends group.

The tempo of the night is unchanged from any other — there is as much laughter and fun as any game night you’ve had in years. The joy of having your friends nearby is never tempered, but tonight it is…just a little bit different. As for first time ever — with your boyfriend sitting next to you — you have to wonder if maybe your soulmate is actually sitting there at the table. And what will you do when it isn’t the man with his arm around you?

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

HHL: @haileymorelikestupid

My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Marcus Pike #Marcus Pike x you #Marcus Pike x reader #Marcus Pike x female reader #Marcus Pike x f!reader #The Mentalist #soulmate au #First Daughter reader #Juan Badillo #Graceland #Juan Badillo x f!OC #Juan Badillo x OC #love triangle

[aphroditesmoon]

umm, you’re taking Gwen x reader? I have a request. Black cat reader who was best friends with Gwen and Peter but is the rival of Spider woman. Something or another happens and their identity’s get revealed

love it if we made it

gwen stacy x blackcat!reader (gn)

warnings: cursing, tiny angst, gwen's peter is alive here, reader has hair long enough to tie them (only description)

a/n: i rlly hope u like this!

°°°°°

A robbery happened on a Tuesday, 6th July 3AM sharp. A robbery in a golden jewelry store. A minute after that, the Pandora store next to it.

No one cared about the robbery, of course. People were too busy talking about the anonymous donation worth more than 15000 the next day to three different centres in need of them.

Gwen Stacy's mind however, is still stuck at a particular difficult nemesis, the black cat. She's never failed to capture a villain like this, never took this long. But again and again, with time, the annoyingly quick and sneaky cat escapes from her grasps.

It was probably obvious that she wasn't too enthralled by any of the breaking news today, all of them critiquing the infamous Spider-Woman for being unable to get her webs on the villain. Her mind was so full and blurry with different kinds of thoughts that she didn't notice her own best friend walking into class and waving at her.

You took your spot next to Gwen, creaking your chair loudly to get her attention. When she finally flinches out of hee daydream and looks at you, she's met with a knowing smile. "Sleeping? Its not even the first period yet." She shook her head and forced a smile out. "No, just dreading AP maths." You laughed at that. Gwen was good at maths, and all the stupid numbers and figures that came with it, that couldn't have been the reason.

"Well, whatever it is, I need you took a little alive for this gift im about to-" "Gift?" Her eyes brighten up immediately. You grinned at her and pulled out the small paperbag, waving it in front of her.

Gwen, impatient she is, snatches it from you and gets to opening its ribbons open. "It's not even my birthday." She mumbles. "Good, now you can't ask me for anything on your birthday." You settled it, earning a mischievous smirk from her. She knows, you would've given her anything if she'd only asked.

You revel in her suprised expression as she pulls out the golden bracelet, it was a waving design, two long whirling gold around in a circle, with a small blue diamond placed in the middle. "You are insane." She says, glaring your way. "What? Can't treat my girl?" The both if you turn slightly pink with those words. You should've just said your welcome.  "The blue reminded me of you. A centerpiece around all the golden whirly shit." She lets out a small laugh, shaking her head. "I love it, thank you." You replied with a nod and your same small smile.

"This must've costed you a lot though,  couldn't you have bought me a two dollars friendship bracelet." She joked while putting the gift on her right wrist. "Oh don't worry, I stole it." You say with your usual tone.

Gwen almost backtracked when you said that, before hitting herself awake in her mind, forcing herself to leave the Spider-Woman alter ego aside for today.

You were making a joke because you didn't want her to feel bad, you always did. So she rolled her eyes before repacking the box and the paperbag to put them under her table. "You'd be a shit thief." She concluded. You furrow your brows. "Well then, at least I'd get to see Spider-Woman." You teased while wiggling your brows.

"I wonder how many people became really bad burglars and thieves just to get her autograph." The last of your sentence became muffled ariund the sounds of other students as your teacher finally arrive, but gwen who heard it all to well only smiled at the thought. 

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎

School finished two hours ago, and neither of you saw or heard from Peter the whole day. He was probably at the lab again, as he always was so you didn't really bother.  Gwen, on the other hand, wouldn't stop trying to get him to answer his phone.

She's pacing around the room with her phone speaker on while you're laying on her bed, messing with her giant flower shaped plushie while she loses her mind. "Maybe he left his phone at home." You reasoned. Gwen shool her head and kept trying.  "He always lose his damn phone."

You frowned at her and decided you were done waiting. "Gwen, its over 10pm, I need to get back home, my dad will be worried." You say before getting up and taking your jacket from her coat hanger. "When has your dad ever even noticed if you're gone." She snaps, phone thrown on her bed in frustration. 

Your eyes widen at the words and you scoff at her.  She opened her mouth to apologize, immediately getting cut off. "Look, I don't know what spider has crawled up your ass these days, but we both know Peter's always disappearing these days, he's probably fine, and I'm going home since you're so worried over your friend that isn't in front of you." You ended the conversating as soon as it started, not giving her a chance to respond, you left her room, banging the door.

Your house was a few blocks away from Gwen's. When you're sure no one's around, you climb up quickly inti your room by the window, hands fast, some help from your claws. Tossing your backpack onto your bed, you changed into your suit without wasting time.

Gwen was right about something, your dad has long since noticed if you ever even came home these days. You jumped back out of your window, swinging upwards onto the roof instead of the streets.

You hopped from building to building, taking your time while enjoying the view. The lights. They were beautiful tonight,  accompanied by the bright moon, staring down from above. Even the neon signs of Joe's Pizza seemed pleasant to look at in times like this. You wished you could've shared these kind of moments with Gwen, but you didn't want to think of her now.

You find a spot above a tall empty building, where the ciry lights seemed clearer, and the smell of trash and dog piss was further away. Pulling your hair up in a bun, you tied it over twice, fixing it so you'll be able to see better without your hair always on your face.

And what a fate, as you're tilting your head down whilst your hands fixes the hairtie, a robbery happens right in front of your eyes.

Your heart skipped a beat at the crime, until you remembered you were also a criminal of a sort. This was interesting to see. A crime done by someone other than the Black Cat, finally.

The pleasure was shortlasting though,  when you had realized who was getting robbed. It was Peter. The masked man pulled out his gun, aiming it to Peter's face when he tried to run. "Run, and I'll shoot." His voice a mumble from below.

You move to stand up, backing away from any visibility, tiptoeing until you've reached the end of the building and hopped off, landing on your feet.

When you walked over the building to stand behind the robber, Peter's eyes involuntary widen,  as if a warning towards another civillian. But you weren't a civilian,  and when he takes in tbe suit and the masks, he realized who you were.

The robber gets annoyed when his eyes weren't on him anymore. "What the hell are y-" he spuns around towards you, receiving a kick to his stomach, making him fall on his back on the blow. You smiled at the victory watching Peter look between you and the fallen robber in confusion.

It seemed your victory didn't last long when a sling if webs shot againts your face.

You wretched the sticky web out of your face, growling in disgust. "Robbing an innocent citizen? That's low, even for you kitty." The annoying voice spoke. Once you manage tu cut the webs off fully with your claws. Regaining your vision,  you sneer at the ghost-spider, standing in front of Peter, who's finding protection behind her. "Is being blind apart of being spider-woman? I didn't rob him, I saved him." The hero's eyes squint along with her mask. "You? Saving people?"

Your eyes actually widen in offense before looking towards Peter. "Tell her doofus! I literally kicked him for you."

Gwen swings her head back at him and he stutters in panic. "Wh-I mean, yeah, she did, technically...kick him." You fold your eyes and glare at her as she turns back at you.  "See?" The two of you lock eyes for a minute long before she finally speak. "Peter Parker-" She calls him.

Both you and Peter frown at the name dropping . "-go home. I'll deal with her." The boy doesn't hesitate, turning his back and running way.

You snorted at her words. Always a show off. "You'll deal with me? How?" She tilts her head. "Like this." When you saw herbhand moving up, you move faster than her, snatching up her wrists in a tight grip as you push her againts the wall. "I might not have any venom on me, but try that again spidey, and I'll make you'll feel these claws for days." You see her physically wince at the words.

"You think just because you saved one man, that erases the 166 crimes you've done?" She asks sarcastically. You pout and pretends to think.  "I think, I really don't give a fuck, but its nice of you to remember all of my crimes, definitely not weird and obsessive or anything." 

She tries to speak again but you shush her when your eyes bore into the bracelet on her wrist. Firstly, who is stupid enough to wear their jewelry outside of their suit? Its like they're begging to be robbed.  Secondly; "Where did you get that bracelet?"

Your nemesis lets out a 'huh?' You repeat yourself, sterner. "I bought it?" You scoff. "You couldn't have bought something I've robbed." She seems annoyed by your questions. Being accused of stealing by a thief is pretty hurtful. "I could've brought it before you robbed it, you know."

You hummed thoughtfully at her words before you spoke. "You could've, or-" Your grip on her loosens, "-We're both just really, really, stupid." Gwen cocks her head in confusion. "What the hell are y-" realization hit her then. "Oh my god, no."

"No? Are you sure, Gwen stacy?" She winced at the mention of her name. Her hands move towards your mask. "How did I never..." Her words trails off a second before loud voices of people coming your way was heard. You pull her back swiftly into an alley, putting yourself between her and the open space.

The both of you lean yourselves againts the wall, you feel her fingers slowly slips into yours and holds back a tired sigh.

Once the group of kids has passed the alley, you finally relaxed. Her hands try to pull aw

ay but you curl your own fists around it.

She spins you back to her and her free hand moves to graze over your mask. "I didn't want you or Peter to be involved like this." She murmed. Your own hand slids around her waste as you lean closer. "I don't think it's up to you, Gwen." She huffs. "You know what I mean." You say nothing, eye staring down at your intertwined fingers. 

"Are you still going to get me arrested, spidey?" You could feel her glare from inside the mask. "What? Because I'm your friend, it all changes now?" You honestly ask. "Because I love you, and I know you and your heart, is why it's all different now. You're not who I thought you were, you can't be,  the Black Cat I've thought of before was evil in my head, evil and cruel."

You say nothing, waiting for her to continue. "You're not evil, and you're not cruel." You raised a brow. "Then, what am I?"  She's hesitates. "You're, with me. And I'm not going to let them take you, not anymore, whoever your secret identity is." Your mouth remains shut at that.

  All the bad jokes and sarcastic comments dies on your throat.  But your stubornnes always wins, "You didn't really seem to care much about me this evening."

Gwen groans loudly. "Come on, we'll go back to my place, I won't even look at the ground on the way home to shown you how much I'm paying attention to you now." You snort, a smile escaping you despite your efforts to remain upset at her.

#gwen stacy x reader #gwen stacy #ghost spider x reader #ghost spider #atsv #atsv x reader #across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse #hobie brown x reader #miles morales x reader #pavitr prabhakar x reader #miguel o'hara x reader

[oletus-writer]

Topping Danny Johnson, Albert Wesker, Pyramid Head, Leon S Kennedy

Warnings: nsfw, male reader, gets a bit kinky

Danny Johnson

The little shit thought that he was going to top you, regardless of the signals beforehand, as he has had experience with men and is too egotistical to think that he would be a bottom, but he doesn’t mind it, not at all.

He’s constantly horny, so if you don’t want to deal with him, he’ll slink off into a corner and masturbate. Before, he did not know the pleasures of anal, but now, he fingers his hole while thinking of you and how you pulled his hands above his head and kissed him fiercely.

If you’re a soft dom, he’ll be demanding more, always. Hope you like brat taming, because he’ll do his utmost to be a power bottom. He prefers sex to be hard and fast, and damn interesting.

He’s into some pretty freaky shit, ranging from dacryphilia to heavy bondage to wound fucking, and was not introduced to the concept of openly discussing kinks and fetishes beforehand, so if he whips out a knife without warning, don’t be surprised.

He’s very vocal, and will praise you and then critique you in the same breath. ‘Oh, the new technique isn’t as good’ or ‘go faster, I’m going to fall asleep’. Yeah, I don’t know why I’m attracted to him either.

Albert Wesker

How embarrassing, but he’s not exactly opposed to it. It’s a new and strange feeling, having something in his anus, but he grows to enjoy it. Like Danny, Wesker likes rough sex, and, as he is genetically modified, has incredible stamina. If you can last, introduce him to overstimulation and dry orgasms and he’ll be weak and pliable in your hands.

He’ll never suggest anything, though. Maybe he wants you to suck him off while fingering him at the same time, but you’ll never know if you don’t ask. Wesker is open to experiments, and is willing to push his body to the limits (not saying eroguro but-) if you’re willing to indulge him.

But please spare him the soft dom and the intimacy, as he finds it rather sickening. Once in a while is fine, and he appreciates romantic gestures, but will soon tire of it if that’s the only thing that happens in sex. Make him know who’s boss.

Pet names while making him see stars is also a new concept he enjoys. Call him a good boy, an obedient cockwhore, all the things he’d generally call someone else, and you might get to hear some heavenly moans. He likes to be degraded and praised at the same time, and I honestly see him as a partialist.

He does enjoy getting a taste of his own medicine - strap a vibrator on his penis with one up his ass while you sit there idly and scrutinise with scientific detachment, and he wouldn’t even know why he’s cumming.

Pyramid Head

He never thought that the day would come that someone was manhandling him and grinding his heel onto his dick, calling him a needy slut that would be lost without him, but he’s not complaining. Run your tongue along his pectoral muscles while jerking him off and he feels a strange emotion bubbling inside him.

While his vocalisations during sex are more guttural and less human-like, sometimes you’ll hear a moan or two when you’re really performing well. Take mental notes on what would make him moan, and you’ll perhaps hear it more often.

As one would probably guess, he’s a sadomasochist, and is welcoming for you to give him some rough treatment. Tie him up, suspend him, whip him, spank him, the list could go on. Hopefully, you’re ready for some hardcore bdsm. If you don’t like it, however, he may take out his sexual frustration another way, but will come to terms with the fact you don’t want to do it, and won’t push you.

He’s definitely chill for dual penetration as long as it’s with a vibrator or dildo, as he doesn’t want to share. Unless you have a monster cock like him, he wants to stretch himself as far as he can - all the more pleasure.

Pyramid head also has a pretty high libido, although it is more of an anachronistic desire. Jerking off does not satisfy him at all, so be sure to introduce toys of you’re unable to keep up. If you are, though, congratulations on the sex.

Leon S Kennedy

Since we’re talking about dbd Leon, that is, re2, do you expect him to top in any relationship? He’s a bottom through and through, and a good one at that, taking your cock like an obedient bitch and sounding so good while doing so.

He’ll put on lipstick and such your dick, worship your penis, let you watch as he preps himself nicely and then gets a bit carried away… yeah. He’s a bit adverse to some more bdsm stuff, especially the sadomasochism, but is open to some really light stuff. Aftercare with him is got to be stellar for him to agree with things like choking.

Leon would appreciate it if you’re patient with him, as he’s never fucked a man before, so you’ll have to wait a few sessions before introducing kinks, but don’t expect him to be a bashful maiden, either. He’s got preferences of his own, although slightly on the vanilla side.

He’s the type of guy to ask if it’ll fit, and would he pretty skeptical of it, and would appreciate it if you show him just how much of your hand you could put in your own hole, both to reassure him and for jerking off material.

Out of everyone here, he’s the most comfortable with this sexuality in the sense that he’s open to discussion and will even watch porn with you to introduce potential kinks and fetishes. During these discussions, he’s also intelligent enough to suggest a safe word (as he’s done some research into kinks beforehand). Hair-pulling he’s a slut for.

#dead by daylight #dead by daylight x reader #dbd #dbd x reader #dbd ghostface #dbd ghostface x reader #ghostface #ghostface x reader #danny johnson #danny johnson x reader #resident evil #resident evil x reader #re x reader #albert wesker #re albert wesker #albert wesker x reader #pyramid head #silent hill #silent hill x reader #pyramid head x reader #dbd pyramid head #resident evil leon #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon x reader #dbd x male reader #danny johnson x male reader #albert wesker x male reader #pyramid head x male reader #leon s kennedy x male reader

[the-travelling-witch]

I’m gonna need morden day au Scara HC i love that man

hmm i don’t want to spoil anything i might throw into a potential part 2 but i can give you some stray thoughts i have about the guy

Anemo tattoo

Like his coworkers, Scara has a tattoo of a triangle with wings extending from it, reminiscent of a bird spreading its wings; his sits on his left pectoral, right over his heart.

The matching tattoos were an idea Venti had while drunk on a night out to commemorate opening their own shop together and while some might have grumbled about it (Xiao and Scara *ahem ahem*), they all have one.

Morning routines and opening times

Scara and Xiao are always the first at the shop, everyone else is late without fail. On his way to work, Scara stops by the same coffee shop every day to get a large black coffee (if he has to put up with his energetic coworkers that early in the day he needs the caffeine).

After opening up, the two wait for the others to trot in one after the other as they set up jewellery displays and check the equipment. If the order of piercers coming in isn’t Scara/ Xiao —> Aether —> Kazuha —> Heizou —> Venti, something is very wrong, apocalypse might be upon our world.

Clothing

Scara has a habit of altering his clothing himself; whether it’s cutting it up, drawing on it or even taking it in, he’s gotten pretty good at it. If someone’s clothing gets torn or a seam comes loose, he can certainly mend it; the problem is getting him to agree to do it.

A glimpse into his past

Scara met Venti after he ran away from home and had no place to stay. Venti took the young man in and they bonded over their shared interest in art; his roommate’s free spirit was a welcome breath of fresh air compared to the stifling expectations (he felt) he failed to meet at home.

Venti brought up the option of Scara pursuing a career as a tattoo artist, something he never considered before, seeing as his family disapproved of art as a job. After being introduced to some of Venti’s friends, drawing became his main outlet for his emotions and he eventually decided to risk it and make it his life.

At the studio

Despite his generally brash way of speaking and being the person who hits his coworkers with the newspaper most, it’s clear to everyone who knows him that he deeply cares for his friends and clients. He’d grate his ass on a cheese grater before admitting it but they all know.

If he critiques someone’s idea, it’s never to put them down but he genuinely wants everyone to walk away satisfied with their choice. The improvements he proposes are always founded on his experience and have his clients’ best interests in mind.

hmm i think that’s all i can offer for now without getting too ahead of myself :>

i’m happy you’re enjoying how i’m writing him though!! <3

modern au masterlist

#┊✩彡 divine correspondence ♡ #┊✩彡 unsigned letter ♡ #genshin impact x reader #scaramouche x reader #scara x reader #wanderer x reader #┊holly’s modern au ✩彡

[starsha-stardust]

The overwhelmingly negative reception to Wish must be studied in the future because I have never seen a Disney movie get constantly critiqued and nitpicked to the tiniest of things as much as it and as I've said before I simply do not believe the film warrants it. People were writing YouTube essays on why the animation and the main character suck before the movie even came out. I've seen people point out supposed issues in the film that have existed in dozens of previous films but never got brought up until now..

For example, Moana follows the Disney princess story formula to a T, has a far more "adorkable" heroine, has no threatening villain, an animal sidekick who only exists to make funny faces and noises, and pretty much the only songs I see people talk about from that film are How Far I'll Go and You're Welcome... And these are all things people have critiqued Wish for but were dead silent about back then.

And the last thing I want to say is that while I do believe a lot of the criticisms of Wish are valid, I believe they are both exaggerated in how much they actually effect the bigger story and most importantly... the POSITIVES of Wish are almost never spoken of? Like no one else thought the villain was hella entertaining? That Star was loveable and it was impressive how they moved the plot without even speaking? That Asha was an active and passionate protagonist with a lovely singing voice? No one liked all the woven in Easter eggs to past Disney classics?

If only the flaws of something are ever pointed out and never it's strengths people's perception of that thing will be flawed. It will always be ironic to me that the first 2d incorporated disney film in over a decade.. the first Disney film with a classic villain in over a decade.. a film uniquely crafted to celebrate Disneys anniversary, is being branded as generic more than anything else. And people are refusing to go see it and even taking part on the "critiquing" (after stating they haven't seen it!) because if all that's being said is that it sucks it must be true right? I strongly feel Wish deserves better.

#Idek if it's my love for the film or my disdain for bandwagons making me this heated but yea lol #At the very least see a film for yourself before deciding if you think its trash or not #Wish #wish disney #wish movie #Rant #film

[anonymouscheeses]

Just for fun Hazbin Hotel redesigns!

(If it sounds like I'm hating on vivzies designs. I'm just critiquing I love her designs so much yall don't even know)

Angel Dust! Gave him a more slutty mafia look to make it clear where he came from. If it weren't for the rumors I would have never known he was from the mafia. In addition, I gave him a scar on the eye that had no reason being black but now it does. Also gave him more pink to blind your eyes with his pink...iness. He has shorts, that can atp just be called underwear, he uses for quick... usage erm.. this is angel Dust we can't be surprised.

Vaggie! Gave her a more moth look, because honestly, I didn't know she was based off a moth. Just... smack some antennas.. boom, that's it. No hate to any of the designs, I just think there could be places to be add more. Also striped arms because MOTHS HAVE THEM AND ITS SO ADORABLE (I'm a bug freak) made her bow bigger to give a better silhouette. She wears armor 24/7 the only moment she takes it off is when she goes to sleep, even then she keeps it near. Which is both hilarious and concerning- (Also this isn't really reflected but I wanted to make Vaggie more sassy because it just fits. Angel Dust and Vaggie cuss eachother out until one of them passes out. So hc ig! :D) PURPLE

Alastor! Hhhhhh.. Ngl this is my least favorite. My design I mean. If that's because I didn't reference the others bodies and made him look short or I didn't transfer him to my style well enough or because his design DOES look ass idk. I made him more deer like, putting his deer ears to where his real ones would be. His antlers are bigger now, yeah I understand how hard it would be to make the antlers look normal while also near the deer ears so I just made the ears relocated. Oh yeah, I gave him a scar on one side of his face because maybe one of his victims did that to him when he was alive, it also just symbolizes his two-faced role(sorta, since he doesn't hide it all that much). Since the others don't have as much red as him it gives him the possibility of standing out.

Charlie Morningstar! Can you guess who the favorite is? Can ya can ya? Since I heard that Charlie is based off a puppet I made her look more like it with joints and the mouth lines(it doesn't work like a puppet would, it's like marker drawn on a normal face except it's genetic). Vaggie told he to dress up more formal(Charlie always wears overrals), so she put a yellow suit jacket and blue jeans on over her overrals and called it a day. I feel like she's the type of silly who would doodle and put stickers on her pants, so. She did. What a goofy goober *pat pat*. I gave her a bit of pink to compliment the yellow, despite pink not being it's complimentary color I still think it's cute. I changed her pose back to the original one, because instead of it looking like she's singing(like the new one) it looks like she's actually welcoming you

Demon form Charlie. Yeah. SWEET MAMA. *cough* it's not that hot but uh anyway. I gave her a halo because, duh, she's half angel. But I didn't try to lean too much to the angel side since this is her, well, DEMON form. Maybe she could have an angel form as well? Buuuut I haven't started designing one yet. She has two colored eyes because. Iunno it looked nice. Just kidding, because everything symbolizes something it's supposed to show her normal/angelic side and her inner demon(HELP). I GAVE HER BIGGER FANGS. *INHALES* SWEET MAMA. Vaggie is bleeding each night I swear to you. Charlie sometimes transforms into her demon side on accident, If she's thinking very hard or is mad at something. Yes I thought extremely aggressively for this one because I love Charlie, fight me.

Gave them all their own specific colors to be associated with, because why would I not. That's like 101 of designing, twas a joke, vivzies designs DO have their own associated colors it's just I made it more apparent and noticeable(plus changed Vaggie's main color). I did NOT reference their bodies with the others because all of them I did in the middle of the night bruv. So, no they did not get shorter or taller, except Charlie, who is just a tiny bit taller than Alastor(I don't know their actual heights, what, you think I did research? No. I just took what I heard and SPRINTED with it.), I just love height difference relationships so I exaggerated it for Chaggie heheheh

#might do Husk and Niffty in the future. #art #fanart #digital art #artists on tumblr #hazbin hotel #hazbin art #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin hotel vaggie #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor #hazbin angel dust #hazbin charlie #hazbin vaggie #charlie morningstar #hazbin characters #hazbin chaggie #vaggie #alastor #angel dust #hazbin hotel redesign #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin headcanons #I AM DROWNING IN THE TAGS AAAAA #im not a character designer. im not good at it like at all. this is all for fun and for practice because for the life of me HELP #chaggie #charlie x vaggie #vaggie x charlie

[multiplicity-positivity]

Hello!

I was wondering if there were discussions/norms/etiquette in the plural community surrounding system origins of various beliefs. I've noticed when learning that some system/alter origins relate to religious/spiritual/metaphysical beliefs. Some of those are not in line with my own beliefs. So I was just wondering how people tend to come together in light of such things. Especially since this is an area that has potential to turn hurtful. I don't think it has to be hurtful. I think love and respect between people is possible even while maintaining different beliefs. But this is just the kind of stuff I think about whenever I see that some people are cruel in dismissing certain types of origins.

Hi! This is a really good question - thank you for asking! We’re not a religious system, and we haven’t had much confusion or struggles when it comes to respecting the beliefs of other systems, but we see how it could be potentially troubling for some!

To us, we feel similarly about systems with different spiritual beliefs as we do about singlets with different spiritual beliefs. And that is: we may not understand your (general you) spirituality, we may not believe in the higher powers that you believe in, but that doesn’t mean we are incapable of showing you and your spirituality the respect and acceptance you deserve. You don’t have to be spiritual or religious in order to respect others with different religious faiths or backgrounds. If someone says they experience plurality or spirituality in some way, it’s not our job to argue with or critique them!

People get to choose how they label and define their own experiences. So, if a Christian system says their headmates are angels or saints or something along those lines, we will believe them and treat them as such, even if we ourselves are not Christian and don’t even have faith in Christian beliefs.

For us, plural solidarity means showing kindness and respect to all sorts of systems, even those with beliefs that conflict with our own. And as a system, we even have some conflicting beliefs amongst our alters! It really is possible to uplift, support, and respect systems with many different beliefs without compromising your own faith or values.

When it comes to norms/etiquete, we do believe our ideas may generally fall in line with the majority of the inclusive plural community. Although we are just one system and we don’t speak for the whole community, so we can’t say for sure!

And as far as discussions go, system discourse can be found in the “#syscourse” tag. Honestly it can be rare to see genuine, thoughtful, productive discussions happening in that tag, but that is the right place for those conversations.

We’d like to invite any systems who have thoughts on this to please share! We are a community full of diverse individuals with a wide range of beliefs. How do you show respect and solidarity to systems with beliefs that differ from your own? If you respond, please remember that this space will always be welcoming to systems of all origins, so respect and thoughtfulness is appreciated!

Anon, we hope this helps answer your question, at least a little bit. Plurality, like spirituality, is not a monolith! And it is possible to be polite, welcoming, and accepting to all sorts of systems, even if their beliefs don’t align with your own. We hope this response is at least somewhat coherent and beneficial for you! Thanks for reaching out!

#spiritual system #spiritual plurality #religious system #spirituality #religion #metaphysical #trigger tags: #syscourse #christianity #long post

[lurksunderthebed]

Thoughts on CoD dudebros that attempt to gatekeep their "role" characters? Over the course of last year it's funny how many i've seen upset that Laswell has a wife because they genuinely thought Price was "bonking" her according to them. Even more so going as far as to say that they'd be into experimental poly relationship. And don't get me started on YT side of the base where people say stuff like Soap & Valeria, Ghost & Milena double date, it's hilarious really. But god forbid you post anything about GhostSoap remotelly romantic. It's like hellfire out there.

Oh man that's a good question. I haven't actually thought too hard on that tbh. Funny timing because I literally watched an opinion piece on YT on what they [the male fanbase] thought on mwiii(23).

I think people want to read into things as they prefer. People are so conditioned in these action movie style sort of storylines to assume Man + Women talking = relationship. And in that sense I can see why people would ship Price and Laswell because they do have a friendly relationship, one that implies years of knowing one another. (though Valeria and Milena /soap or ghost?? Why??)

I think the biggest shame is the fact that male and female platonic friendships are so rare in these instances that for a significant part of that vocal fanbase, it blows their mind to have heterosexual friendships that are just that: friendships.

And it's always a bit ironic we have this situation when you have those dudebros pile on the ghostsoap ship and say, "can't friendships just be friendships, stop making everything gay". Can't friendships just be friendships, stop making everything het.

Bro, we ain't making anything gay, it's there in the text. Call the spade a spade. They flirt with each other. I can even pull up the receipts and go through every bit of possibility and still think, wow, even them joking is pretty sus with all the context. Especially when it's Ghost who flirts back, out of all people—the man who is so emotionally constipated that showing his face and letting people use his name is a Big Deal™.

I always wonder what that fanbase would make of these meta posts. In a weird way, I do sort of welcome that critique. It would be interesting to see what would come out of that.

I mean, yeah you can read Ghost and Soap's relationship however you want. But it's definitely not something as clear cut as, "they're just friends. That's what brothers in arms are like. You just don't understand!" sort of thing. I think reducing them down to 'just friends' would be doing a disservice to how much Soap meant to Ghost in terms of the actual codmwii plot line.

The nice thing is that despite all the differences we all have with each other, we as an entire fanbase all agree on this: Codmwiii(23) has the worst campaign out of all codmw games.

The storyline sucked and didn't go anywhere. The ending was there for shock factor. It didn't really add anything to the story aside from making one feel upset. It was sloppy storytelling, and it really felt like it could've been better.

But yeah. Lol 😂 sorry for the rant guys. Hope you enjoyed the Ted Talk.

Btw, much thanks and love from everyone reading my meta posts. All the encouragement fuels me for my next overly long post. 💞🥹

#ask #ghostsoap #soapghost #cod mwiii #cod mw3

[demon-trees]

Morning Glory

This is more of a welcome back into the world of writing fanfics since I haven't written anything since high-school and what better way to kick it off with my current obsession then Trigun! I'm sorry it took me so long I was trying to figure out how I wanted the story to go but I think I got it now.

So standard rating would T nothing to gory and no beta readers so if you some mistakes please excuse them but I welcome any critiques you may have for me.

Enjoy what I have written, and I hope to do this fandom, proud!

Word count 4.3k

_______________________________

Hanahaki Disease,

A rare disease where one is in unrequited or even one-sided love that leaves its victim to cough or vomit flower petals mixed with their own blood. In most extreme cases left untreated can lead to a flowering plant growing in the lungs,stomach or heart in which case the disease then turns fatal with then having to vomit or choking fully bloomed flowers and slowly succumbing to the lack of oxygen and blood. The only known cure is to undergo a surgery to remove said flower from the host but no record has shown a case where the patient has recovered unless they do another more high risk operation on the brain to remove part of the limbic system. More studies show that people who undergo brain surgery have a ninety-nine percent rate of recovery and no return of the flowers but have a difficult time to process emotions or even become shells of their former selves. Other studies of this disease have shown zero chance of survival due to the type of plant that can take residence in the victim's body which can shut down its host's body four times faster than normal, meaning the average lifespan with this disease cuts down to a year to a few months while other victims have years ahead. 

Year 3xxx

It's been almost one hundred and fifty years since the seed project crashed on this planet, 

Fifty years since the discovery of the strange plant disease that riddles the lonely and the daydreamers, twenty years since the discovery of a so-called “cure” for it, and three days since I too have fallen victim to the hanahaki disease. 

I thought everything was fine, everything was fine if I just kept my distance from the infamous outlaw, but just like the sun I was always drawn back to his warmth. We met a few years before the Jenerora Rock incident, when I was waiting tables at Rosa’s diner just hiding out from bounty hunters when this unusual man in a long red coat and pointed gold hair walks in. All he asked for is a simple drink, nothing fancy but then one drink turned into one more, and then three more, and so on, honestly if Rosa hadn’t cut him off when she did he would have ended up passed out on the diner floor with her husband. He hadn’t paid for a room and it looked like he wasn’t sober enough to ask for one yet but with the town inn being so far away it didn’t look like he would make it that far in the state he was in anyway. Really what could have been so bad that someone would neglect to get shelter to instead come get their ass blackout drunk?

I really should have minded my own business but with Rosa having her own troubles with her sorry ass husband and Tonis what else could she do with the stranger who seemed to be dead to the world already, apparently drag him to the upstairs apartment that resides above said diner that I'm currently renting, bless you Rosa. With a bit, well with a lot of struggle i managed to drag the idiot up the stairs and not so carefully put him on the bed, really this man who appeared to not weigh much was much heavier than i expected and his staggering height was a struggle i didn’t account for when i decided to be a kind civilian for once. Really, one glance at this man and my natural caregiver instincts kicked in and I hated it, it wasn’t me, not anymore i thought. I went to turn to leave but his shaky voice startled me causing me to freeze, it wasn’t a question that left his lips but a small broken thank you, i hesitantly turned back to look at the poor sap but he had already fallen asleep with small snores leaving his mouth. Thinking back on it i wasn’t sure why i helped him removed his boots or even covered him up with the nicest blanket i could fine but meeting him that day had set everything in motion, I would begin to start falling for the fading sun: star boy, i would call him but to the rest of Gunsmoke he will forever be known as the humanoid typhoon: Vash The Stampede, and to my unsuspecting self I would soon learn why he was given the nickname. 

The morning I woke from my spot on the tiny loveseat to find him nowhere in sight, nothing that showed that he had been here the night before unless you count a neatly made bed. I assumed he had just got up and left town but no, I walked down to see the very sunny man talking and laughing with Rosa as he helped clean the diner with the help of her husband who looked like he saw better mornings. Confused was most likely an understatement given the situation, why was he still here, why was he helping a stranger with a kind smile plastered on his face? Questions that I hadn’t had a chance to ask as I was rushed out the door to help unload the supply truck by other waitresses leaving behind a stuttering mess of heys and wait by the blonde man who looked a little shocked to see me as well. As soon as we were outside I was bombarded with who he was, was he available, and was he a “good time”, shameless the lot of these people! As much to my horror he decided to follow us out back and without a hint of decency he played along with they're crude jokes! 

“Well ladies i must say i would never kiss and tell but she was absolutely rude in the bedroom! She was so rough in the bedroom, she even threw me on the mattress!” He said dramatically holding his arm over his face, crocodile tears threatening to leave his eyes but that cheshire grin he had given it all away that it was a horrible joke. 

“My my i would never have thought our sweet little y/n was into that sort of thing! So scandalous I tell you!” One of the ladies said as she pretend to faint into my arms 

“I have a half mind to drop you, you know and that isn’t what happened last night.” I said sternly glaring at the looming giant who seemed to have a grand of a time laughing with the rest of them as his aviator glasses slid down his face revealing his baby blue eyes and long lashes as he glanced my way. 

‘Damn him, he really was beautiful.’ I thought as I pushed the woman back up and went to the truck to pick up one of the many boxes. 

“No it's true I heard the loud thump of the bed myself last night.” I heard Rosa tell them and it took everything in me not to drop the heavy crate on the ground.  

“ROSA!” I yelled mortified as the rest of them held onto their stomachs from laughing so hard while ‘pretty boy’ fell down laughing. 

I can feel my face getting warm while I walked away from the humiliation.

“Names Vash by the way!” He yells after me as I plopped the crate down at the bar.

He rushes to stand in my way with a shining smile that could put the suns to shame.

“I don’t believe I caught your name yet.” Lier.

“And i believe you just heard it from my friend there so excuse me.” I say as I tried to go under him. Again he follows me. Cute.

“But I would much rather you tell me yourself, beautiful.” He says smoothly.

If god was real then i'm sure the devil is as well because no one should be that handsome and lame but cute at the same time. He’s a temptress, I'm sure of it.

“Does flirting come naturally to you or am I a special case?” I say as I give into whatever game this is, leaning against the door frame with a huff. 

“It depends really, is it working?”  I can see the little glint of mischief in his eyes with his smile turning genuine.  

“No, but I'll give you credit for trying. Names y/n.” I finally say with a small grin. 

The next few weeks were filled with such an odd sense of peace that I almost forgot we were human, but there is no such thing as peace when humans are involved. 

I was out back on break when it happened, playing with Tonis and one of the worms he had found when the loud shouting laughter of kids could be heard and a not so kind shriek of what I could guess was a blonde idiot. He was tackled down and hogtied by the local kids in a game of catch the outlaw, really such a fitting game if you think about it. Kids piled on top of him while he tried to wiggle his way out from under them but the joyous laughter of the kids caused him to laugh a little too and slumped.

‘So he was good looking, great with kids and a decent person.’ The more I looked at him the more I wondered who he really was. With a teasing smile I got up from the small porch taking Tonis with me over to shoo the youngins away but the small child had other ideas as he broke free from grasp and jumped on Vash as well leaving the stranger with no more fight in him as he laid flat on the sand and his glasses laid barren beside him.

“Need a hand there, stranger? It looks like you're about to start seeing stars here in a minute.”  Laughing as I crouched down to his level picking up his glasses and using them to push back my y/h/c hair back. 

“No, no! Everything’s fine, I just need a minute to regain my strength. It will probably come back faster if someone were to say "I don't know, bless me by going on a date with me, tonight maybe?” He shoots me another charming smile. I swore I could see little stars and sparkles around him as he offered his best attempt at a smolder. 

‘This little shit.’

“You know what, you look fine here on the ground so i'm just gonna go but thanks for the new glasses star boy, i think they look good on me.”  I quickly tried to walk away hoping the way my heart skipped a beat was just a weird fluke when I heard a rush of waits being directed at me. I turned around annoyed to see him clumsy jogging over to me, red staining his cheeks and the tips of his ears from the heat I assumed.

“I’m sorry about making a pass at you but can I make it up to you with a drink? No funny business, I promise just a casual drink as a thank you for the other day?” The shy smile he gives me nearly puts me in an early grave.

“All right, one drink, just one pretty boy then we call it even deal?” I offered him back his glasses as a sign of good fate but he freezes.

‘What?’ 

“Pretty?” Oh no, no I didn't!

“You think I'm pretty?” God kill me now as the damn smile he wore now was blinding me. The next thing I knew Vash pulled me down as a random bullet shot passed us and hit a window. 

‘TOO SOON GOD!’

Gunshots rang throughout the city, people scurrying into their homes and children ran to hide in alleyways with the critters, the smell of gunpowder and blood soaked the air. I dropped Vash’s glasses to run and grab Tonis and pulled him into the diner with Rosa who was already loading up her gun. I left him with Rosa’s husband as we ran back outside to see what was happening and nothing could have prepared me for how fast my blood drained at the sight. People were injured, some dead, and a few with life threatening wounds but in the middle of all that was enough for me to turn to stone. 

Bounty hunters.

A large gang of bounty hunters have held up my wanted poster and the leader threatened to shoot up the town and plant if I wasn't handed over in the next five minutes. I turned over to Rosa to explain myself but I had a gun pointed to my head before I could let out a sound, the anger on her face says it all, because I have seen and heard it all before.  

‘How can I bring them here? Why did you endanger all of us? Think of the lives you are putting at risk!’ I’ve heard it many times before but I could never give them an answer that was satisfying, because really all I wanted was a place to call home too. It wasn’t fair that everyone had a place to call home, someplace safe and warm, instead I was cursed to wander around these damn dunes with nothing more than an old hand me down gun and a forgotten name.

“Take me to the leader Rosa, I won't put up a fight I promise.” I said holding back my tears and stretching out my hands to be tied, I don't deserve to cry, not after running for so long and almost killing what could be considered friends again. I deserved this I thought as she tied me up and dragged me to them showing no remorse for me, just a grim frown. I was then thrown to the leaders feet and the last thing i saw was the hilt of his weapon hitting me and the sounds of gunshots being fired. A small panicked hold on was the last thing I really heard but I will never believe it was real. 

A day, a full twenty four hours I was out and in that time Vash had stopped the gang from dragging me off but not before they damaged one of the plants but by some god forsaken miracle he managed to save that too. While I was grateful he saved me, I needed to leave, and I needed to leave now while the diner was bustling with people probably celebrating the hero. I no longer had a home and no friends, so I packed the necessities and managed to slip out into the apartment alleyway. I didn’t bother to leave a note because really who will miss the bitch who brought a dangerous gang here and almost destroyed the town. As I grabbed a Thomas I saw the so-called hero as he stood in my way with both arms outstretched to halt my steed, head slightly down and a certain emotion was hidden behind his tinted glasses, what it was I would probably never know for sure. 

“Out of the way, Vash, I'm not in a playful mood tonight.” I say as I pulled my double action revolver out of its holster and pointed it straight at him, turning the safety off. 

Instead of moving away like i warned him too he moved closer to me arms still up in the air as a silent promise he won’t draw. 

Like that means shit to me right now.

“Vash, I'm serious! Take one more step and this bullet goes straight through your head!”  I yelled, clicking the trigger into place. Again he moves closer, barely five feet away as I shoot a warning next to his head just barely missing a hair. 

“Next time I won’t miss.” I tell him but my hand is shaking and he sees it.

He gently lowers my arm down and grabs my now useless gun to place on the ground all without breaking eye contact with me. 

“I won’t stop you from leaving and I won't follow you out but, i still expect that drink you owe me in the future y/n.” The sad smile he wore never failed to make me feel guilty but I couldn't stay one more night for a drink and I didn't want to make empty promises to the same broken vagabond as me.

“Vash i can’t promise you i will be alive the next time you see me.” I shook off his hand as I stared up at the sky just to keep from looking into his eyes. I wondered if the stars could ever be trapped by a mere human because everytime i would look into his eyes I would catch a tiny glimpse of the vast space. So full of wonder and awe but oh so cold and lonely, an endless cycle of new life and death.  

“Then I'll make a promise to you then, a promise to see my new friend alive and well again.” He then hands me my gun back as vow that if I take it I have honored the promise he made.

‘I want to be selfish, please just this once, let me keep this promise’

“All right, I’ll see you around then starboy.”

That was the first time I felt the pain in my chest.

That was two years ago and I became a gun for hire myself, so imagine my utter surprise when I ran into this idiot again at a bar shoot out when he so casually saves us by using the broken metal sign to shield us from the massive wave of gunshots. Lucky basterd. 

“Well nice to see you again y/n! While I wished it was under better circumstances I do believe it's best for us to start running.”  He grabbed my hand and we hauled ass out of there because someone didn’t bother to check if he had bullets, and neither did i. It seems like nothing changes when sharing a city with Vash the Stampede, except my ability to check my own supplies.

We managed to defeat the two bounty hunters by Vash cleverly using the giant one's weapon against himself while I distracted the other one long enough for him to get hit with it as well. I hate to think it but we made a good team. Although his sillness gets the better of him he’s actually very smart if not too passive about how to win a gunfight, i still wonder about this man.  

During the fight we met two insurance girls named Meryl and Millie who are on the lookout for the “real” Vash to keep him under surveillance for a whole twenty four hours. I didn’t have the heart to tell them that the man they were looking for was the poor sap next to me and not a gruesome, womanizing monster, he’s a flirt for sure but hardly a womanizer. We parted not long after but the way Vash’s eyes kept tailing that woman, Meryl, had me guessing this wasn’t the first time he’s seen her. His gaze was too soft and somber to have for a first time meeting.

‘The pain is back, fuck.’

“So you gonna tell me how you know her or do you want to play the fool all night?” Turning to him once again, a sad smile was plastered on his face as he watched her go.

‘It hurts, it hurts a lot’

“I don’t know what you're talking about.” 

“Vash, I've been around for a while and I've seen more than a hundred people with the same look on their face. You know her, you're in love with her.” 

“I would appreciate it if you just let it go, please.” The way his fist clenched and jaw tightened told me enough that it was painful but nothing else.

‘I’m overstepping again’

“Okay.”

Bitter, I was bitter and for what reason I couldn't tell you back then. I don’t know why I thought it was a good idea to bring it up when we weren’t friends and we didn’t know much about each other either, but I craved painful answers. I desperately wanted the missing knowledge that had him so wind up but i have to let it go.

‘My lungs feel like they’re on fire.’ 

He started to walk away and all i could do was stand there, i didn’t dare reach out to him again. Walking back to town slowly as I followed him from a distance, giving him the space I owed him but then stopped as I stared up at the night sky. It was terribly stunning as I witnessed a rare meteor shower above us leaving me breathless for the first time in years. The glowing worms seemed to take interest as well as they filled the sky next to the shower. I never realized Vash had stopped walking as well until I heard him clear his throat trying to gain my attention tilting his head towards the small run down town.

“I know the bar is destroyed but did you want to find someplace else to grab that drink I still owe you?” 

“It's been two years since we made that promise, I'm surprised you even remembered.” 

“I have a very good memory. Is that a yes?”

“It's not a no but lets see if we can find a place first. Yeah?” I tell him as we walk in sync towards the town with the little bit of pain in my chest hurting a bit less but the ache is still there. Then the coughing started.

“That’s quite a cough you got there, you okay?” 

“Yeah i’m fine it must because its cold out now, you know.” I tell him trying to ease his worries and to convince myself I was fine.

"Weird, I hope I'm not getting sick.’

“Well if you ever need a handsome guy to nurse you back to health i’ll gladly do it, Flower!”

"Flower? Why?" I managed to choke out and resist the urge to fan myself.

"Well you remind me of the pretty flowers in old books, but I guess flower sounds weird. How about petal?" 

'Why must God punish me this way!'

"Well if I call you star boy it's only fair. I suppose you can give me a nickname as well." Be still thy beating heart comes to mind as i gently grasped my shirt over my aching organ.

"Moon flower it is then. To match mine.” 

‘Oh how fitting.’

We spent the next hour going back and forth between diners and shops but nothing. No booze or homemade alcohol in sight but it was okay because after a while we stopped looking and just enjoyed each other's company for the evening. We settled for dinner now with another promise of that drink. I will always think back to that little time we spent together fondly as we departed a few days later.

I wouldn’t see him again for a couple of months this time around but when I did, it was with the insurance girls again and some man carrying a very large cross. The ominous feeling never went away and neither was the horrorbile envy I had towards Meryl. She was stunning,brave,kind, and had such a righteousness to her that when compared to me it was- pathetic. She was someone who deserved to be by Vash’s side, who would fight to stay by his side even if she says it's purely for work but I think that lie was to keep her heart off her sleeve for a while longer.

I kept an eye on the way Vash’s eyes trail after her, wherever she was Vash was never far behind where it would be by her side or hiding from plain sight after a mild scolding from her. I hate her but admire her the same.

During our time apart my chest pain worsened, the coughing fits grew bloody and my body was slowly being overcome with yellowish veins that stretched from my heart to my lower abdomen. It could be easily covered by my clothes but the bloody cough was what gave me away the night of the quick draw contest. The priest was the one to find me hunched over a desk as we both watched in horror as white petals were mixed with large blood clots. 

‘No. Please no.’ I could cry, scream my decaying lungs out but what’s the use now. I’m dying a lonely lover's death, oh how the reaper must weep for one's like me. 

“Have you told him yet? Needle-noggin?” Wolfwood asks him to light a cigarette and walks towards the bathroom.

“It's not him. There's no way, it's a mistake." I couldn't love Vash, it's too soon.

"You really want to keep lying while on your deathbed huh?" Wolfwood threw me a towel as he took another drag.

''By the looks of those petals ya could have a Morning Glory growing inside that lil heart of yours, worse case its a moon flower." 

"Those are poisonous right?" I tried to wipe up the blood and petals but I think it stained the wood floors. I might have to pay a deposit or damage fees.

"Right. So even if you get enough money for the surgery it will be useless since the poison is already in your system. You'll die in a few weeks sweetheart. "

'I'm dying' 

"I guess I should be glad I met a priest when I did huh? Maybe you can bless my grave with some religious crap about heaven or something." I tried to joke around but in the end everything came out in short labored sobs. 

'I'm really dying'

"So you really don't want to tell him huh? " 

"What's the point? I'll be dead soon." Looking back now maybe I should have told him sooner.

Stay tuned for part two coming soon

#x reader #fanfic #trigun #trigun stampede #trigun x reader #vash the stampede #vash x reader #vash x you

[enarei]

I'm sorry, but I don't believe you have even a rudimentary grasp on feminist theory, and could benefit from an education.

maybe you're right, and you're welcome to educate me (like, genuinely, I would probably enjoy that). I would appreciate if you were a bit more specific with what of what I've said makes you think that, because I believe the gist of my argument is very important if not to feminism broadly, to a model of feminism that is capable of incorporating trans women without stabbing them in the back within its critique of patriarchy —namely that there isn't one intrinsic, "natural" female/woman identity or trait that invites misogyny, it's a self-reifying set of relations which creates the necessity for the concept of "womanhood" to exist, performing a woman's roles and being perceived as a woman is what makes women, women, and that includes trans women, there's little more to it than that

if you wanna set yourself apart from everyone and say you're actually a real woman, because you say you are, and dissect the difference from the transfem that doesn't necessarily think of their relation to gender through the same exclusive binary lens, however that manifests in practice, whichever labels and pronouns they choose to use, then do so, but I think you'll find that gets us no closer to examining why we are actually oppressed and the ideas we have to disseminate to counter that, because that line, while important for self-actualization, isn't actually very relevant to how we're perceived, which is often the most important aspect of how we're treated by society. while we can affirm our personal identity in relationships that are both recurring and premised on mutual respect, we don't get that privilege most of the time, and people's understanding of us are based on assumptions.

it does not matter then that you ID as a woman and the other person doesn't if you never get the opportunity to say that, it's completely irrelevant. if you are both read as <genderweird person dressed like a woman & male voice>, you're both legitimate targets for modes of violence for people associated with the words "tranny faggot".

I also find this very disingenuous because it ignores that passing, presenting as our preferred gender, isn't always a possibility, likewise, the implication that "men" by necessity can't be discriminated for gender non-conformity under exactly the same rules as non-passing trans women is completely arbitrary. you don't know how other people are being read, you don't know if they're being read as a gay man or a tranny trying to hide the fact they're tranny, or something in between, how okay the interviewer is with either and where do they draw the line. you simply don't know that! we could run the same thought experiment where a trans woman is boymoding for a job interview, wearing a binder to hide her tits (something I've done countless times), using her deadname and not displaying any signs of femininity, and she gets the job and the "man" who has a panty wearing kink and maybe also presents a lot more overtly effeminate in public doesn't, because the interviewer thought she was less of a faggot.

even if the "man" may have an easier time concealing what you would call a "fetish" at work, something you can't really distinguish from a normal aspect of a person's gender expression without a degree of moralism, are trans women that are not always out, or hide their transness at their job, not subjected to transmisogyny, are they not deserving of calling themselves trans women? should we shun them and lump them with "chasers" because they are not baring their femininity full time and being pummeled for that constantly? like, where do you draw the line? and I'm not saying the guy who likes to wear his wife's skirt while she pegs him and is otherwise a massive homophobe the rest of the time gets it like you or me, but I think it's pretty obtuse to pretend the line between "binary trans woman" and "non-trans CAMAB person who cross-dresses; whose oppression should be understood under the framing of transmisogyny", can only be measured by those two points.

#gender

[celluloidbroomcloset]

This is more general fic related, but I am curious what your take on it might be. I've enjoyed your thoughts on fanworks and this particular bugbear has been gnawing at me for years.

There's a trend in some fandoms to take a (usually) mlm relationship, both canon and fanon, and turn one party into a cisgender woman. A genderswap AU where both characters are cisgender women (or men, though I have yet to see this specific occurrence with wlw ships) or one comes out as trans are not the same thing as what I mean here. It would specifically be a cisgender woman, thereby turning a queer relationship cishet.

It was popular in the Gotham tv series fandom to turn the canonically queer Oswald Cobblepot into a straight woman and then ship her with Oswald's canon love interest, Edward Nygma*. It was also always Oswald who got this treatment, never Edward. To me, this reads as "straightwashing" a queer relationship to make it more palatable, as though they enjoy the canon dynamic but dislike the fact that it is queer. So they turn one half of the pair into a woman.

So at the end of all that explanation my question is, what do you think of this occurrence? Am I wrong in thinking it happens because someone doesn't like the queerness of some ships?

Also, I am glad to say that I have yet to see this turn up in OFMD fanworks. There are plenty of genderswaps and trans headcanons, which I welcome gladly, but thankfully I have not seen Stede as a cishet woman and Ed as her equally cishet boyfriend...yet.

*Oswald/Edward is canon, though it was only confirmed as romantic on Oswald's part, making him at least canonically queer. Edward's sexuality and the nature of his feelings for Oswald were left open to interpretation.

So I haven't seen this particular thing in action, as my fandoms are generally relegated to OFMD, The Avengers (UK) (very cis het but quite kinky couples), and a bit of Good Omens. So I'm taking this as it's offered and assuming that what is being described here is accurate.

Fandom, and especially shipping fandom, trends female and cisgender (and white, but that doesn't seem to be the thing at issue here). This varies from fandom to fandom, of course, but that's a general trend. It's often hard to really get down to demographics on who ships what and how, in part because a lot of fandom is anonymous and based on people deciding to disclose gender/race/sexuality/etc.

What is being described above does read to me like straightwashing a gay couple/ship to an author's preferences, for whatever reason. This could just be personal desires or interest in dynamics, but it does have the effect of taking a semi-canon queer couple and turning them cishet for the sake of...something. Hard not to see something at least a little problematic going on there.

I think that there may be a bit of self-insert going on, as well, and this is where we get into that problem of cis women placing themselves into gay male ships. This gets into what I would call a porn aesthetic from the perspective of a cis woman - fantasizing about being with/being part of a gay male couple. We gotta be careful there because female fans tend to get marginalized for shipping two male characters together and are often accused of fetishizing gay men, and of course this is all fantasy anyway. But while I do not at all think that the majority of fandom shipping is fetishization, there are times when it does cross over into that and should be considered and interrogated a bit more. I wouldn't apply a blanket statement to it, but consider the media itself, what is canon/what isn't canon, and what the goal is of an individual author/artist/fan. There's nothing really wrong with self-insert, but it does become something we should think about in context of the specific media involved.

(I'm very much someone who believes that fic/art is fair game and that it should not be censored in any way, but also that all fic/art can be critiqued in the same way anything else can, and indeed should be. No art can develop if we're not allowed to critique it.)

#reply #trying to be careful in my response here #but i'm happy to hear other viewpoints

[psychewritesbs]

hi! i didnt have much success when looking through ur blog to see if uve addressed this alrdy so apologies if u have.

i was curious to know ur thoughts on jjk's portrayals of gender, esp women/femininity. if u have particular insight from a psych or philosophy bg, id be interested in hearing that (warning, i have a v feminist critique lens)

ik u love gege's writing 😅 but his handle on female characters/femininity has given me such a difficult relationship w jjk, and its v difficult to have discourse on it. on one hand, we're introduced to sm interesting realistic women, tbh i actually never stanned a woman in manga before jjk. but imo it cant be denied that gege is a sexist writer. despite how realistic jjk women r theyre all .. halfwritten? i cant think of a single one who isnt underwritten, not fully explored, not utilized substantially in the plot, etc. and there r sm ex's of extremely minor male characters in jjk who r given more thematic relevance than frequently recurring women that just underscores that gender gap imo

this isnt solely a gege problem ik but what bothers me in particular about jjk vs other mangas is how gege addresses strength, even in the light of nb/androgynous characters, and how it feels as if gege's def of strength is inherently masculine? even despite going so far as to give us a philosophical battle shonen w diverse reps of gender and emphasizing individuality that encompasses both femme/masc traits

how a reader interprets whether a jjk woman is strong or not is obv subjective. like, i think shoko is strong but shes not depicted as such bc she doesnt have a combative technique whereas yuki maki nobara or mei r depicted as "strong" bc of their battle abilities. but it also feels as if those women r strong bc they take on "masculine" traits/mindsets whereas there r no clear depictions of "femininity" making women or men stronger. even utahime who falls into v classic shoujo girl tropes is seen as weak despite teaching her students v proficientally in battle strategy (mechamaru v mahito is a good ex of that imo), as compared to how gojo teaches his (ie dumping them into missions for experience). but thats not what gege ever chooses to highlight

femininity also doesnt even seem to make men/nb characters stronger. the ex's i can think of r naoya as a vagina (lmao), geto as a mother to curses, yuta as highly attuned to his emotions, kenjaku as yuji's mother -- those r things that support these (mostly) men's strong sense of individuality but like, those arent really the things that lend those characters their "strength", u know? like geges just sprinkling in androgyny for the spice 🧐

what is feminine vs masculine, how an individual embodies those traits in their gender identity r already complex topics. im obv generalizing a lot here, but i just, idk despite how many other nuanced philosophies gege explores, what is strong/desirable in jjk still falls down to all-out fighting abilities/physical prowess, emotional detachment, isolation, extremism, etc -- all things we harp on toxic masculinity for. and even when he critiques that, theres no cogent counter solution/way to be strong that gege provides, much less one that incorporates "femininity" and women

maybe im just asking for too much from gege after having read so many great representations of women and gender by female (and male) mangakas/writers but.. i shouldnt be 🙄 he can utilize his female characters more imo, esp when he can clearly set them up so well. and im sure theres things ive misread about jjk and its portrayal of femininity, theres plenty of holes in my thoughts ^^ anyways, this is obv not a great topic to bring up in a fandom that is so polarized between dudebros and women w unaddressed internalized misogyny.. so i welcome any and all thoughts and interpretations on ur end! (also omg im rlly sorry this got so long)

I love you feminist anon, if I may call you that lol, I just always name my anons 😂. I am so grateful that you sent this.

I feel like you've very eloquently explained the deeper reason as to why I personally can't relate to the female characters in jjk. If I'm honest, I like them and think they are fun and good enough representations or attempts at depicting the archetypes that rule their personalities.

As you say, however, some of them remain rather superficial and underutilized... and please forgive me anyone who loves them, but some of them feel like they are basically dudes wearing skirts.

No offense to dudes who wear skirts or people who like men who wear skirts or anyone for that matter. It's just that, as a personal preference, I like female characters that wear skirts, pants, leggings, etc and have equal amounts of masculine and feminine energy.

So, even if I find they are good enough, I've never necessarily loved jjk female characters, because, as you also say, I've read/seen one too many amazing and iconic female characters by other authors...

And it's not like I think you're asking for too much from Gege in wanting better female characters, it's just that, as you also said, I like his writing and I read jjk precisely because of what it's doing for my masculine psyche. Like... quite literally.

So perhaps I'm more forgiving than you are because of it? Because in all reality, there are female character moments in other manga that I have to give the bombastic side eye to, and jjk isn't one of them.

Let's taco'bout it more under the cut.

So, that said, I have to admit that you might not find a lot of "feminist oriented" content in my blog because my feminist lens is reserved for dealing with lame dudebros in my real life, and also, I honestly do not know how to wear the lens on the same level of depth as you do.

Also, since my blog's lens is depth psych, I very much focus on femininity and masculinity as psychological qualities that exist on opposite ends of a continuum regardless of biological gender. You'll see me refer to femininity and masculinity like this throughout my answer.

So because of this, I'm coming at the whole issue from a slightly different angle than you are. The way I see it, I think the way the jjk female characters are written and thematically utilized (basically everything you said), ultimately comes back to how Gege's exploration of femininity is limited by his own sense of self, and very much likely biased by the sociocultural landscape he grew up in.

I don't know how much you know about Japan, but Japan has one foot in the future, and one foot in the past...

And like... ok I'm totally oversimplifying the whole thing. All I'm saying is... Gege is a man who grew up in a man's world, sharing his view of the world through jjk, which is a story about initiation of the male psyche that is published in a magazine for young boys.

Do you see the pattern there?

So If you feel like his female characters are underutilized and underexplored, and that thematically jjk focuses way too much on masculinity and masculine definitions of strength at the expense of the feminine archetypes he does present (like Naoya as a vagina LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL)... well... to me, we're basically looking at the limits of his own relationship to his femininity, which, this relationship is in turn an imperative precursor for psychospiritual development in depth psych. More of this in a bit.

Anyways, that's my anticlimactic reasoning for why I am more forgiving about the issue than you are. To be honest, I've been so consumed exploring my masculine psyche through jjk (because personally my feminine psyche is more developed in certain aspects) that I just never focus on the female characters (that is not to mention what I shared earlier).

ANYWAYS, I fucking love what you wrote about Gege's exploration on power from a masculine perspective because you're 100% spot on. What I'll say to that is that, to me, from a depth psych perspective, that's kind of the whole point.

I invite you to look at it from this other level of perspective (in addition to the whole "Gege's psych is a product of his upbringing"): the whole idea of individuality and focusing on the sense of self as a measure of "The Strongest" is being shown as an incomplete part of the equation...

... that leaves "the strongest" ultimately feeling dissatisfied.

This is a sentiment echoed by several characters because ego strength (masculine definitions of strength) is ultimately an unbalanced measure of strength precisely because it ignores feminine values and measures of strength.

Who knows where Gege is taking jjk at this point, but I will admit I am hoping he is going to explore this in more depth because, central to Jungian thought and depth psych is the idea of the Buddhist middle path and union of opposites.

In Jungian psych this means that, when you have an unbalanced ego attitude like that, something has to give so that the pendulum swings in the opposite direction, which gives the ego the experiences it needs to integrate the "opposite" attitude. This ultimately results in a more holistic and balanced perspective for the ego.

That to say that I'm wondering if Gege is going to make the pendulum swing in the opposite direction with the whole "individuality" idea since self-preservation is a "masculine" trait. Again, psychologically, it's all about balance, and right now, the story is out of balance in favor of the masculine traits you mention.

But... to bring it back to Gege's possible limitations around his perception of femininity and how developing a healthy relationship to his anima (femininity) is a precursor for psychospiritual development... what if, on a meta level, jjk is depicting part of Gege's journey towards integrating and deepening his relationship to his femininity and what you're seeing is the beginning of that journey?

Hint hint Tsumiki! maybe I'll write about it someday

This is the thing... In depth psychology, more specifically what is called "the psychology of fairy tales", fairy tales and myths are stories that depict the thinking patterns of a peoples through metaphor and symbol. The characters in these myths and stories are thus characters playing out dramas in our own psyches. So basically, think of jjk as an objective exploration of Gege's subjectiveness (psyche).

Admittedly, even if the pendulum swings in the other direction (more feminine definitions of strength), you might find that his exploration is rather shallow or that it falls short of your expectations for what you'd like to see from a feminist perspective. And you wouldn't be wrong for it, it's just that Gege is probably not on the same level of understanding that you have about femininity because he's, like you and I, a human on a journey of self understanding and growth reflecting on how his environment has shaped who he is.

The same goes for women with internalized misogyny. Sometimes you don't know what you don't know, and coming to an understanding of it is a process that doesn't take place overnight.

So I think the only part I'll disagree with is that Gege is a sexist writer. But that's perhaps because I'm being a bit too technical in what sexist means? i.e. masc supremacy or hating women and perpetuating stereotypes. I think that rather than being sexist, his unconscious biases are showing, which is why someone like you can pick them out.

I do understand where you're coming from though, and admittedly perhaps I am being too forgiving of him.

Last thing I'll say is that I've said a couple of times that wanting for jjk to have these iconic female characters feels like an exercise in futility. In retrospect, I now understand that it's not that anyone shouldn't want for jjk to have iconic female characters, but that doesn't change the fact that jjk will probably remain the wrong manga to look for them, and that's something to make peace with because it is what it is.

So, here's to hoping we get a chance to see a deeper representation of feminine values in jjk or Gege's next manga. Because, if he's done such beautiful work with the masculine psyche, like you, I'd be curious to see what he makes of a deeper exploration of the feminine psyche.

Between you and I, I'd actually love reading a proper battle bl from Gege. And I mean proper. Like... gays so canon that even the dudebros can't deny it.

ANYWAYS... giiiiiiiirl what an ask 😮‍💨. I don't think I've done it justice tbh. But hopefully I made sense? I really do love what you wrote. It was very eye opening to see this age-old argument spelled out the way you did it. So thank you again for sharing your thoughts!

If you over have any other thoughts on the topic I look forward to hearing from you!

I rambled too so... hopefully I made sense 🤣.

#ask the mental gymnastics anime girl

[littlemisstfc]

So...No LAYERS For The Decepticons: How RID 2015 Fails At Critiquing The Prison Complex

Welcome back to this side of the Hundred Acre Woods. It’s been 84 years since I have written a blog post here, so forgive my absence. 😭 By the way, I will be at TFCon LA 2024 on both March 9th and March 10th. Feel free to say hi to me, I cannot wait to meet more of you there as well as meeting more voice actors and artists. Anyways, let’s get onto today’s topic. So…RID 2015, my dear friend. 

After making that compilation of the purple icon and the moment Fracture, I began to have thoughts about RID 2015. I will be coming out with a video retrospective that will hopefully come out later this year. My collaborator is dealing with a personal matter at the moment, so I’m respecting their space. Think of this as a preview to what we have here. I thought about doing a video, but I feel like my strongest strength has always been writing. 

RID 2015 is an interesting show in the sense that it has so much to say, yet never got the chance to fully explore what it wants to say. If you know me by now, you know that I am one of the most hardcore RID defenders in existence akskskskdjdkd. Let me make it clear: it’s a show that exists. However…it is MY show that exists. Like, compared to the very worst of the worst that Transformers has to offer, this show doesn’t even scratch at the surface. It’s a mid show that manages to keep me entertained and engaged at least. However, at the same time, its flaws are genuinely that egregious, and as much as the writers tried, I feel like they’re held back from fully exploring its potential. Like I said, I will go into the gritty nitty detail at a later day, so at the moment, let’s go discuss what’s perhaps the main issue I have with RID 2015…it fails at critiquing the prison complex.

The Prison Complex...BUT WITH FURRIES.

In case you don’t know what RID 2015 is about, let me summarize it really quickly. RID 2015 takes place three years later after Transformers Prime ended, and it focuses on Bumblebee now. After getting a sign from Optimus’s spirit to return to Earth, he does so, along with a cadet named Strongarm and a delinquent named Sideswipe accidentally joining him. Eventually, they all ended up at Crown City and they found out a Decepticon prison ship, the Alchemor, crash landed near here, courtesy of the caretaker Fixit. Then, after taking care of one escaped Decepticon, they were then joined by Grimlock and two humans named Russell and Denny. So, the entire series is focused on Bee and his team capturing the escaped Decepticon prisoners, while also having to deal with the shady behind the scenes of the Cybertronian government.

Now that we got the main premise out of the way, on the surface, it seems like it’s a harmless monster of the week type show. For most of the time, it’s just Bee and his team capturing Decepticons, who are also animals in this version. Okay, Beast Wars aksksksks. It seems like there’s not much issue. However…when you really think about the circumstances of these Decepticons, not to mention how oddly it portrays the police force in a mostly positive light (and I say that loosely), the show did not age in retrospect. It does not do a great job at critiquing what’s wrong with the prison industry.

Now that I brought it up, you may be asking why I did so. It’s important to bring it up, because it ties into how this show tackles the Decepticons and the Cybertronian police state. In a nutshell, the prison complex refers to the relationship between the prison system and various businesses, specifically how they benefit from incarceration being the end-all solution in tackling society’s problems. It relies heavily on the surveillance and policing of the population in order to make the quickest profit that really only serves as a bandaid to the elephant in the room. In case you want to learn more about the prison complex, I highly recommend doing your research by looking up sources, especially from those who work in prison reform.

Back to RID 2015, the show makes it seem like the Decepticons should be treated as menaces to society because the government says so. Now, let me make it clear: I am in no way justifying what these characters did. I mean, there are legit serial killers and legitimate dangers to society in there akksksksksa. It’s called nuance, folks. However, at the same time…these people should be getting help for their issues and/or get rehabilitation instead of being treated as animals (no pun intended). You look at characters like Springload and Filch, who are individuals that show severe signs of mental illness that heavily impact how they navigate the world. Then, you have Decepticons who only really committed minor offenses like Bisk. Now, I’m not saying that they’re justified in doing those crimes. I’m saying that the consequences should fit the crime, yet for some reason, the show likes to say that brutal incarceration is the answer. In the world of the Aligned Continuity post Prime, you get labeled a Decepticon for your crimes and you;re packed off to jail until you die or something. 

Then, we have the head bitch in charge himself, Steeljaw. Now, I’m saving my thoughts on his character and how he wouldn’t go away at a later date, so for now…Steeljaw may be a character that the show stubbornly refuses to let go, but I’m sorry, he brought up good points about the way things are runned. He is basically TFA Megatron if he was a furry aksksksks. While his intentions are ultimately a power grab and the way he treats his pack isn’t justified, at the same time, you do see where he’s coming from. The show portrays the premise in a very strict black and white sense, in which the Decepticons are all evil and the Autobots are justified in throwing all them into prison. Now, we do learn about the actual truth behind the Council and Strongarm is a genuinely good person, but still, the show is so committed to the anti Decepticon status quo that it makes the premise much worse. It lacks the nuance that Animated and Cyberverse to an extent had in portraying the two sides, so it’s insensitive at best and actually quite harmful at worst. 

So…you may be wondering, “wait, but what about Grimlock and Drift?” That’s where they both come into the discussion. To me, those two represent the nuance that the show desperately wanted to convey, but isn’t allowed to explore. They’re both reformed Decepticons who showed that they are not defined by their past, and they put in the work to change. Hell, there was even an entire ass episode dedicated to the team realizing that Grimlock did change for the better. In Drift’s case, when he was confronted by a figure from his past, he made it clear that he also changed for the better. So, if the show was willing to offer both Grimlock and Drift second chances, then why can’t it offer the same grace to the Alchemor prisoners?

This then leads to the character of Scowl, whom I honestly believe that he is capable of having a genuine heel face turn if the show GAVE HIM A FUCKING CHANCE. The instant chemistry he had with Grimlock reveals that he seems to be a cool guy. I think that once he’s taught to learn right from wrong and is given a support system, he can be redeemed. Yet frustratingly, the show goes, “nah bro, he’s 100% evil underneath his bro bro act.” It’s kind of hypocritical that it allows Grimlock to reform, but it puts Scowl and a majority of the Decepticons into a black and white box. They’re not allowed to be their own characters in the first place, so they received the short end of the stick even more. Just…UGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. Show, why do you test my patience sometimes? When I tweeted about this thought I had after I made the Fracture compilation, someone summarized it best right here:

"Legitimately, if RID15 wasn't aimed at kids, it would be a really nuanced show and likely would get recognized as better than Prime."

Kids are fucking smarter than we give them credit for. I was six years old when I watched Animated, and I noticed the deeper aspects of the show. I just didn’t have the words to articulate it until I became an adult. If RID 2015 was given the time and care it needs to explore this concept to its fullest potential, it would perhaps be the best well thought out show in the Aligned Continuity. I may get canceled for this, but it’s the LAYERS that Prime wants. However, because the higher ups wanted a toyetic approach and thought the kids are too dumb to pick up on LAYERS and nuance, we got this, and it honestly saddens me it turned out this way.

Conclusion: Even the most mid Transformers show deserves LAYERS.

Being a RID 2015 stan is the toughest battle God gives to his silliest little guys akskskskks. I criticize this show because I truly believe it deserves BETTER than what it was given to work with. You may look at me like I’m crazy for thinking about this way more than what a normal person would do…but I ain’t normal, lads. 

I'm saving my full thoughts for the retrospective like I said, but right now, the show has a lot to say, but it was sadly silenced. I honestly think it would've been one of those Transformers shows people will fondly look back on had it been given more time in the oven. This is why I appreciate fanfiction and fanon existing because they explore the LAYERS the show has underneath the silly vibes. I would do anything for this show to receive a comic book continuiation or a spinoff that explores its full potential.

Anyways, Pingu.

#transformers #tf rid 2015 #tf rid15 #val talks #tf discourse

[bigbangharringrove]

If authors don’t get claimed i hope you people don’t run this event any more and let someone bigger take over this would be bigger if we knew who you are :////

I think this is a repeat anon but I’ll address it anyway.

We know that claims weekend is an incredibly stressful time for writers. Trust us, we completely get it and we’re stressed too. There’s a lot going on behind-the-scenes as we make sure that the event is running as smoothly as possible. There may be some things to work out for next time, but this is the first event we’ve run for this fandom (though certainly not first ever) and we’ll learn.

We don’t have 100% control over claiming but what we can assure you is that we will do everything we possibly can to ensure every fic gets claimed. Honestly, you all have really shown up too. More artists have signed up this week and that’s all thanks to everyone who’s been spreading the word about this event, so thank you to all of you. We also have some wonderful, amazing pinch-hitters that we can ask for help, and if it comes down to it we will hold public claims. We want to see all fics claimed as much as y’all do, we promise.

We may not be the most well-known names, sure, but that doesn’t mean we’re not passionate about this event or these characters. We’re writers and artists too, we understand and we want to make this the best event possible. This fandom is a close community, and I am over here fangirling every time someone joins because there is SO MUCH talent in this fandom. It’s amazing to see so many talented individuals all involved in projects for this event. When I say us mods cannot wait to see the finished projects, I mean it.

Also, we’re humans and we realize we make mistakes, and that we may not have the best way of doing things 100% of the time. If anyone ever has any critique (thoughtful, please) or suggestions, we will always welcome that with open arms.

-Grey

#faq