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#i once had someone get mad at me for saying i don't think gendered pronouns are essential because get this

ms-demeanor · 2 months

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hello! sorry to bother w this but im sort of desperate at this point. given your post about school abuse: so like. i had a similar experience and i thought that i had sorted my brain out. BUT. big but. now im trans and every time i have to correct people w/ misgender or come out to people that i dont already know their opinion on the issue, i get an anxiety attack that makes me unable to do it. ive told many therapists and no one so far has understood why im terrified of making stuff that other people can perceive as me being difficult to work with. would you have *any* advice? thanks!

Okay so first of all it is totally valid to feel that way; that isn't an irrational response, that is your body and brain going "!!!! I have learned this lesson before!" But just because it's a sensible response doesn't mean it's functional in the long term, which is why it needs to be addressed (which I'm sure you already know, I'm just explaining for people in the back).

So now here is some meandering advice:

Spend time with people you already know you can trust. It's okay to take a break from new people and situations (as much as is possible) when you are processing traumatic events and learning to care for yourself. Spending time with people who you don't have to come out to, who don't misgender you, can help you normalize being out and correctly gendered to yourself.

Recognize that you don't have to be out to everyone and some assholes aren't worth it. This is going to depend some on the context, but you don't owe everybody an explanation for yourself and if people repeatedly misgender you after being corrected you may just be better off not spending time around those people.

Loop in trusted people in low-stakes ways. If you get the sense that someone who you think is pretty safe has misgendered you on accident, it might still feel too intimidating to correct them in person but it might be a good idea to follow up with text or a call or a message to say "hey, just FYI, I think I heard you use a/b pronouns for me earlier, I just wanted to let you know that I use c/d pronouns. Did you want to meet up again next week?" the breakdown on why I think this is effective is - Distance means you're safe - nonthreatening "FYI" means you aren't saying "I'm offended" and assumes good faith from the other person - feels less accusatory (not that you need to tone police yourself, but if you're trying to lower the stress level overall then assuming it was a mistake and letting them know you don't think it was on purpose should reduce the overall tension) - request to meet up again or topic switch to something lighter once again says "I'm not mad, that was just regular information, we can now return to our scheduled programming"

I think that, generally speaking, this is also a decent way to come out to people if you're nervous; physically remote and emotionally casual can be a good place to work from (even if you're actually panicking in your head but you can pull off casual in a written message)

Find (or create) a space where people are 100% going to support you. If you need to create a discord server, if you need to schedule a regular coffee date with trusted friends or family members, whatever it is, give yourself a space where you are unconditionally supported and can have people to bounce ideas and concerns off of. Even if it's just you and one other person, it's good to know you have *someone* who you can say "I think I want to tell this other person to use my pronouns but it's scary" to and know that you're not at risk in any way. I'd say try to make sure that you're still interacting with people outside of that space, but have a space to retreat to where you can just drop the worry.

Recognize that somebody else's problem is not a reflection of you. If you have, for instance, a coworker who is being a piece of shit and refusing to recognize your gender, that is not a reflection of your gender that is a reflection of them being a piece of shit. If there is a classmate or a sibling who uses the wrong pronouns after being corrected that doesn't mean you're not entitled to your pronouns that means they are being a piece of shit. Some people are just not going to accept you and that's on them. Try to minimize your time spent with them and if you have to spend time with them at work take steps to ensure your safety, but don't fight losing battles with assholes.

It really is legitimately scary. You have good reasons to be scared and you are doing a very frightening thing (and not to do the meme thing but you are legitimately being so brave about it; the fact that you are reaching out and asking anyone for help, including randos on the internet, means that you are taking steps to doing the scary thing and that is SO GOOD and I'm really proud of you for making the effort in spite of the fear).

Here is some less meandering advice:

Practice. Talk to yourself in the mirror, practice with friends, practice with your therapist. Practice coming out to yourself in a casual way. Practice correcting your pronouns. Practice an introduction for yourself that explains the information you want to give to new people you might meet. Get it down to a quick little patter, get it to be something that's easy to say to yourself in the mirror first, then try it with friends for practice, then try it around the safer people you might want to give the information to. It'll get easier as you go.

Look for a local support group (or an online support group). If there's a local LGBTQ+ center you should see if they've got events going on or a support group you can join or workshops or any manner of social thing where you can go interact with people who have been through similar stuff.

Journal. Each time you find yourself frightened of talking to someone about your gender, do what you need to to get through the day and then sit down and think about that interaction. Write down what happened, write down what you were thinking. Was there something in particular that made you anxious? Is it something you can practice addressing? Was there something you noticed about the person that made you uncomfortable? Is that a common thread in the times you have trouble talking about this? If you're able to narrow down specifically what is making it hard to speak to some people that might make it easier to explain to therapists but will also make it more actionable for you.

Here's some very optimistic advice:

If at all possible find a friend who will be rabid and unflinching in their support for you and hang out with them around new people. Get yourself an attack dog copilot who will cheerfully step up and make corrections for you. I know not everyone can do this and I know that if you can find someone like this they can't be around all the time, but it can be wonderfully reassuring to find that one person who you know is going to be ride or die about making sure that everyone in the room respects you. (Being that person for someone else can also teach you how to be that person for you)

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captainjacklyn · 1 year

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Twisted Wonderland x Captain Jack Sparrow!Reader, PART 2 :

A/N : here is part 2 for this 1000+ follower special, thank you all for supporting my blog so far. I'm really really grateful, you all have a splendid day.

-Captain Jacklyn

Personality : According to screenwriters Ted Elliott and Terry Rossio, Sparrow is a trickster who uses wit and deceit to attain his goals, preferring to end disputes verbally instead of by force. He walks with a slightly drunken swagger and has slurred speech and flailing hand gestures. Sparrow is shrewd, calculating, and eccentric.

Warning(s) : the reader is gender neutral, just wanted to give our favourite pirate some appreciation so the reader has his personality, skills & background, pronouns are you cause...it's literally just you. mentions of drinking habits, I've seen teenagers drink their heart out but the age of the reader isn't mentioned so make up your mind, killing, thieving cause its a pirate what did you expect ?

All characters with a Jack Sparrow!Reader :

OCTAVINELLE

Azul コ:彡 - When you found out he was a merman you instantly began to walk away slowly saying : "I've dealt with you fish people and I think I've had my dose in life, please stay far away from me." only to be dragged back by Jack. He found you..a little weird and he took a disliking to your job the moment you explained your occupation as a pirate. They are one of the most common enemy to merfolk people and knowing that you were not someone who he could easily trust he kept his distances from you...He at least tried to but since you were tasked to stop his contract madness by the headmaster, you were messing with his plans over and over again. What he found even more bothersome is when you realized just how easy it was to grab his contract on the table, immediately stopping everyone else from falling into his obvious trap. And don't get me started when leona revealed that you created an entire plan that managed to defeat someone as smart as him. "No..That drunken pirate can't be the reason for this ! It's impossible !" "Not probable..actually."

Floyd 𓆜 - He likes you but you try to avoid him and his weird hugs. He especially likes the way you run away from him like the earth was tilting. "Shrimpy~ whatcha doing here ?" "Is this a dream ?" "..No ?" "I thought so, there would be rum if it was." Like you/I said before, you've once had a not so friendly experience with mermaids and Floyd was the exact example of it. The way you run away from his squeezing attempts is like that scene where Jack runs from the group of island people screaming for his life- what movie was that again there are way too many of them..

Jade 𓆞 - You avoid Jade even more, people might say he's better than his brother but you say he's a lot worse than Floyd. "So prefect..what do you think of my faglutatilia muncosh mushrooms ?" "....I wash my hands of this weirdness." proceed to run for your life. He is a menace and people will shove the idea of him being the definition of satan incarnate simply because he acts polite with a so-called friendly smile. You don't like him, though he loves to scare the crap out of you.

SCARABIA

Kalim Al-Asim ♕ - Like I said before, some students will find your behavior humorous, and in a nice way at that. Kalim is one of them, he pretty much loves to hear you talk about your adventures as a pirate and the jokes you make which are not actually jokes make him laugh so hard. He will always invite you to his dorm to have a feast, and the best part is the amount of times that you managed to convince him to bring you to his treasure room because dear lord he's that one rich best friend who will buy you a mansion even though you never even asked. During chapter 4, you pretty much pitied Kalim. He was completely heart broken at the fact that his trusted 'friend' and vice dorm leader was conspiring against him. But as someone who lives in a world where trust isn't possible, it wasn't difficult to understand him. "Listen to me Kalim..just close your eyes and think that this is all a bad dream, that'd how I get by." "Does that really work..?" "Well..to be honest..it won't work for you now that I think about it, you're too soft and way too naive...if pirates were like you they would die on day one. But that's good for you cause you ain't a pirate..know what I'm saying ?"

Jamil 𓆗 - "The deepest circle of hell is reserved for betrayers and mutineers, Jamil." those were the words you told him during your time at Scarabia, your appearance and mannerism made you look stupid and weak, but when one survives through betrayal countless of times...it isn't hard to spot untrustworthy people. You saw through his facade and he never expected it in a million years..he was suspicious of you but not once did he think you were a threat to his plan. When you managed to escape and bring back the octavinelle trio with you, he knew just how shrewd and tactical your methods were. Even after his overblot was over, you greatly disliked each other, he was the worse type of traitor and even though it was ironic for you to say so, a captain never abandons his ship...and a ship is nothing without a crew. He hated you because of how you tricked him, he especially loathes the fact that he respect your strong mind and that his admiration goes far beyond.

Thanks and bolognese.

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dreamingdarkly22 · 1 year

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So a while back...

I was typing up that rambling description about Cherenkov radiation, and spoke about how I was pretending it was for the benefit of someone out there who might not know about it, but really I was doing it because I wanted to. I alluded to something that I hadn't really intended to talk about, but then, thinking about it I was wondering if I should...

So yeah, here's that thing.

So I'm gonna try to just dive right in, because to be honest this topic is making me anxious as hell. Because well, I don't really know if I have any right to be dealing with it publicly, since I have no idea if it applies to me. Yet.

I might be autistic.

Yeah minefield right? >_< So. Now the longer version. Because that was horribly vague and awkward, I know, sorry. I just wanted to get the subject line out there so I don't ramble for twenty pages without actually getting there.

Last year, someone in my family was diagnosed as being on the spectrum. They are very young, as is typical for these diagnosis, and it was a long time coming. (The individual probably isn't non-binary to be clear. But is very young, and I want to put out as little real information about them as possible including gender, hence vague pronouns.) We all knew they were a bit different, in some areas operating as if they were many years older than their actual age, and in others many years younger. I won't get into the specifics of their case, what's important with regards to my story is that this got many people in my family to start learning about ASD. We have a very large family. So this meant a lot of people close to me learning about this at once.

This lead to me getting the same reaction from a significant number of people who know me pretty well, all within a few weeks. "Hey doesn't this sound like you?"

So for the first few, I blew it off. It's a "trendy" diagnosis these days. People literally chase it, which creeps me out, and I really don't want to be associated with people like that. Also, I told myself, it's probably just the ADHD, they share a lot of markers, and I've generally got reasons for why I have certain behaviours in common. So it's just a coincidence. I mean I've been doing fine for this long, and I relate to people okay now. Mostly. Okay maybe not so good. But I get along with the people who know me well enough. I don't have trouble understanding other peoples emotions or motivations. In fact I'm very good at it. So that can't be right.

But the questions kept coming.

And coming

And at some point I guess I stopped dismissing it off hand and started actually trying to refute the points. Which of course, requires actually thinking about them.

And it started being kind of hard to refute =/

So for example. I've always had ADHD. Maybe. When I actually stop and think about it I was never actually diagnosed. It was just something adults started saying about me in elementary school. But it was never diagnosed or treated.

I have some kind of OCD. Maybe. Also never diagnosed or treated. But I can be obsessive about hand washing. Like really obsessive. Wash my hands ten times in a row because I still don't feel clean obsessive. Crooked pictures bother me. Lots of things.

I seem to have some kind of anxiety disorder. It comes and goes, but it can be a real problem. This one wasn't properly diagnosed, but was medicated for a while, which only made things much worse.

But as I went through and actually researched to try and refute the argument for ASD, I hit stumbling blocks.

Yeah I relate to people fairly well now. But to be fair I've had several decades of practice. If I think back I remember so many times where I really didn't understand why people were mad at me. I would think I was just "joining in" to be proven very, very wrong. I can look back now at some of the things I did and cannot fathom why I thought it was a good idea. Why I thought that people felt one way, when it was so very clear that I was wrong. I struggled badly to relate to my peers. At the time it was explained as a result of my upbringing. It was pretty atypical, and didn't allow for a lot of practice dealing with people my own age.

But what if that wasn't the cause? What if that would have happened regardless?

The OCD... While I obsessively wash my hands, and can't stand a wide array of standard OCD triggers, I also have no problem with others. I'm quite a slob. My living space is a constant mess of clutter. So why the contradiction?

What if... What if my issues aren't actually OCD related, but sensory? I just can't handle the feeling of anything on my hands, visual input that doesn't line up, things like that? It might actually fit far better than OCD, as I have a huge issue with scents as well.

With the anxiety... Well that one's a bit of a wash. I understand it goes along with ASD pretty tightly. But also with ADHD. I read somewhere that the majority of anxiety disorders are actually caused by untreated ADHD, I can't find anything backing that up statistically, but I can certainly find very tight links between them.

Then there's all the other little things. Like Info-dumps (Hello Cherenkov Radiation, and a hundred other things I've posted about over the years)

I think it was actually here on tumblr that I read someone posting about different love languages. And it connected so strongly with me that I actually ended up in tears trying to explain it to someone later >_<. It was suddenly super clear that I had been repeating a number of these supposedly ASD love language things. I hadn't realized how important some stupid little things I'd been doing were to me, and how much it was hurting when it was ignored, until I read it, spelled out like that.

So yeah... All of this combined has me pretty sure now that I fall somewhere on the ASD spectrum. And I'm really, really not sure how I feel about that.

On the one hand, it's already been helpful. The love language thing alone has really helped me with processing some things I won't go into. And much as when I got my cancer diagnosis, it feels like this makes a lot of things make sense that didn't before ( I'm not comparing the two in any way that's meaningful to the actual diagnosis. I'm saying the resolution of a mystery is helpful in a similar way, even if it offers no practical "solution". To be crystal clear, I'm NOT saying ASD is like Cancer. So just stop with that.)

On the other... Well. I'm not a kid. This isn't something coming along during my formative years. I've spent thirty plus years coming to terms with "me". I've always been odd. And figuring that out, and how to be happy, has been a LOT of work over the years. But the work is done for the most part. I'm happy. I'm comfortable. And this comes along feeling like a damn wrecking ball. Like oh, the way I am isn't because of my upbringing, or my parents, or my personality, but just a quirk of genetics? And yes, I know that nothing has changed, even if it's true then this is just the way I've always been and this is just a new way of thinking about it...

But it feels different in a way I can't quite express =/

And I really don't know how to feel about it =/

On top of that, I've seen what parts of the world do with adults who "come out" as autistic. It's seen as a trendy thing now. Like Fibromyalgia. A way to dodge responsibility, or excuse shitty behaviour. (Again to be clear, I'm not calling it or Fibromyalgia that. I'm saying a lot of people do, and treat people differently as a result of their belief). And to be honest I'm a little afraid of what will happen. How some people will react. I'm already a "special snowflake" for many other reasons. I know tons of people will just see this as me co-opting yet another identity to try to be special.

Soooo, yeah. This is me testing the waters. "Coming out" as it were, somewhere safer than IRL =/. It's also early. I can't confirm anything. I don't even know HOW to confirm anything.

I have decided that I want to know though. I want to confirm things. One way or the other. But I'm stalled. Waiting to hear back from a few agencies and doctors. As so far I don't even know where to start =/

So yeah. That's the story. Rambling Info-dump over.

Just gotta get up the nerve to hit post.

#rambling

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big-boah · 2 years

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‼️ I am changing my pronouns from he/they to he/him. I have post-T beard euphoria that says I should stick with that since I never enforce the "they" and it doesn't feel as right.

Also changing my nickname to include Dan because A) I think it's a funny name... "Dan" sounds like just that guy over there. and B) I had to change my name from Danni to Dan at work because no one was respecting my pronouns and I wanted to punch something on client calls (pronouns are on my email signature in big BOLD letters next to my name), and not ONCE has someone messed them up since. I am enjoying being called this name very much. 😁

You can still call me Danni if you want, I accept Dan, Danni, D, Dad, or a handful of blorbo nicknames including Vegeta.

Some details of my trans journey under the cut:

I started going by Danni when I was 12 in 2006 because I "came out" as FtM, my dad, brother, and friends at the time respected the nickname, which was lovely. (The reason came out is in quotes is because I don't actually believe in gender at all, why do people need to be defined further? but in this unfortunate paradigm we live in, i get masculine gender euphoria. I also think that it's ridiculous that people need to "come out" and why can't we just be ourselves and exist and change whenever we want? Who gives a shit? Anyway!)

In 2018 I started going by Dan and started testosterone the week after I got married (we come from Christian families so I had to be a freakin' chick at my wedding lmao the pics came out mad cute though) and my gender went from nb to FtM in my own head.

I had to get off T due to medical issues in January 2021, and NB fit my whole deal better so I "switched" back to Danni, he/they, nb etc etc

The leftover changes from T = gray hair, full on black body hair including chest/face, Vegeta 5-head hairline, downstairs changes and veins lol lots of them. I love these changes a lot and the crappy beard gives me immense gender euphoria, and my husband was petting it yesterday calling me handsome and I was like...mmm yup definitely a gay dude I've known this since I was literally 6 😁

Anyways that's that, you can still call me Danni if you want that's still my name, but I'm updating my socials 🤷🏻‍♂️

#ftm things #dan posts #transgender #trans #transmasc #personal #update

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transenbyconfessions · 2 years

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I don't know how to say this but I need to say it.

I have been questioning my gender for almost three years now, and I think I finally figured out. I don't feel like an specific label is made up for me, the closest I get is being a non binary girl. I kind of like being a girl but I also fricking would love being enby. So that's that.

Early in the day while I was still figuring out this, I was way more open about it. I didn't really got out of the closest, but I allowed myself to experiment with a made up binder (I sometimes look back at that time and think about how idiot I was back then, once I tried to bind with some big hairbands and I didn't even last an hour until I was choking. Another time I tried to use a bandana and got it stuck so I went all my day of school with that thing badly tied around by stomach. Gosh I was so dumb xdd. Don't worry y'all I eventually got my hands on two way-to-small tops that were the safest way to go and I used them responsably.) I allowed myself to put she/they on my social medias (my parents don't usually check my media and they don't really know much english so I was safe). I even dared to draw my flag sometimes and it would make me so happy.

But the things is that, recently, some of my close friends came out as another gender. One is trans and the other is non binary. My parents eventually heard of their thing through different ways.

The thing is that my parents aren't homophobic. They always told my siblings and I that they wouldn't have any kind of problem if we liked girls when we grew up and that, and they seemed really supportive of mtf and ftm trans people.

But when my friends did come out (kinda)...

They say that they believe they are just seeking attention. They laught at my enby friend's gender, they kind of low key mock it off. They say things like the world is going mad and that next thing is someone identifying as an animal or something. I have to laught along. They say they support but that holy cow that sounds invented and things like that.

I also had a problem with my classmates. One of them, somehow found my old twitter account, that I hadn't touched in months and in which I have the pronouns they/them specified. They leaked it to my classmates and they were asking me about it, including some girls that are really mean to me. I freaked out and I made up a story about some old friend of mine that used to be a girl but was now nb and whom I gifted my twitter account, I even logged in to make some fake tweet addressing it. They kind of belived it. But then again, they started mocking that one friend for their gender. I knew they weren't real, but it hurted.

Because of this reasons I decided to make a decision.

I am gonna be a non-binary girl, but no one will know. I am never coming out to anyone ever again.

At this point I came on terms with my boobs, they are small anyway and since I love baggy clothes most of the times they don't show. My parents leave me dress as I want anyway so it's pog on that sense. I can't really use my fake binder atm cuz I had covid and since then I haven't really recovered and it hurts so bad and I can't breathe, but if it ever goes away and I need it, it's there.

It's ok if I can't use they pronouns too, she/hers are also good and I can deal with it. It's not like in spanish we have any that sound good and on the internet most people would call me a she anyway.

I feel it would be easier this way. I will hide the non-binary part of my gender away. The good thing tho is that one day I will live on my own. I wouldn't be able to come out on the public but maybe, one day I will be able to have a little nb flag. I will hide it when people come visit, but I always wanted one and it will be so pog. My little secret.

It's kind of sad that I have to hide it, but I'm trying to find the positives. Less backlash plus I get to be a little spy among the other girls. It sounds so dumb but I like to thing of it like an adventure to not be sad.

I can't not say my name for obvious reasons, but to all of you. I'm here. I can't say hi. I can't reveal who I really am but I'm here, hidden. I'm here. I'm they. Please don't forget about me.

And if you ever come across a blog, talk about them with neutral pronouns in default and I don't correct you... that's cuz you are not wrong.

Maybe one day I get to come out, if the world ever changes enough but for now I will wait here. I'm not giving up I swear.

#trans #transgender #nonbinary #non binary #non-binary #nb #enby #transphobia #nbphobia #enbyphobia #nonbinaryphobia #gender dysphoria #binding #unsafe binding practices

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shortestcake · 2 years

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AFTERMATH

(oneshot)

Pairing: Vi x reader

Pronouns used: none(afab genitalia described)

Gendered terms: princess, good girl

Genre: angst+fluff+smut(mdni)

// mentions of arguing / yelling

Contrary to popular belief, Vi was extremely patient, never quick to lose her temper or take her anger out on people that didn't deserve it. Even before you two started dating, that was something you loved about her. Her gentleness, as tough as she mightve seemed on the outside, she was an absolute sweetheart with you.

Maybe your opinion on her was slightly biased, seeing as she was always kinder to you than most people, but even then, she wasn't the rough brute her reputation made her out to be.

Loving, kind, strong, gentle and patient were usually the first words that came to your mind when you had to describe her, especially behind closed doors, when she knew she could be vulnerable.

But we all have our moments.

After the incident with Powder, Vi swore she'd never take out her anger on someone she cared about, not to drive them away, like she did with her younger sister.

Yet here she was, screaming at you, all over a small misunderstanding.

Her blood was already boiling, even before getting home, you could tell she had a bad day from the way she dropped off her gauntlets, groaning heavily as she tossed them aside, and the way she didn't greet you- nor answer you when you greeted her.

Usually, when Vi was in a bad mood, all she wanted to do was place her head in your lap and vent about what upset her, often falling asleep while you pet her hair, listening to her rant intently.

So, that's exactly what you were planning on doing, standing up from your spot on the couch, to go and comfort Vi.

When she brushed off your attempt at talking with her, you were a bit taken aback, but you only became truly concerned when she completely ignored you.

"Vi? Baby, what's wrong?" The only sign she gave to acknowledge your presence was an annoyed grunt as she took off her jacket.

Now that pissed you off, but you knew better than to get mad with Violet because of it, something horrible must've happened if she was this angry.

"Honey, I know that you're upset, but please talk to-" you didn't even manage to finish your sentence, Violet was already yelling.

You were too shocked to react, she never raised her voice at you- especially not when you hadn't done anything wrong- so, you just stood and took it, unsure of what to say or do.

She knew she'd regret her words before they even left her mouth, but she couldn't stop them, all the insults and harsh words she threw at you were on their way before she could think.

"What don't you get? I don't want to fucking talk with you, leave me alone already."

Violet could tell she struck a nerve with the way you tensed up, she stared at the floor, too afraid to meet your eyes, too ashamed to. Your silence is what brought her to look up to, she wished she hadn't.

Tears were threatening to spill down your cheecks. The same eyes that brought her peace, looked at her with such admiration and were always full of love for her, were now full of pain because of her.

You left before she could comfort you, letting out a quiet sob once you closed the door. That was more painful for Violet than anything you could've screamed at her, knowing that you wouldn't hurt her even after she hurt you.

Just the thought made her scream, she grabbed at her hair, unsure of what to do.

Vi was never good when it came to the aftermath of your arguments, especially since, as much as she hates to admit it, most of them were her fault.

For the rest of the day, which Violet spent mostly taking her anger out in a healthy way, beating up her punching bag, you'd been avoiding your girlfriend.

She let out the entire days events on her the poor bag, by the time she'd cooled down enough, Vi went to take a shower. It was a rather short one- since she didn't have you to take it with, she also soon realized that the more time she would spend alone, the more her own words would haunt her.

Finally, she went to search for you in your shared apartment, wearing comfortable clothes with wet hair.

You were the in the same place you were when she came home, curled up on the couch, with one of your favourite books in hand, flipping through its pages mindlessly.

She slowly made her way across the room, crouching down right in front of you, "Hi muffin," her lips pursed when you didn't answer, "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have yelled at you like that."

Silence was all you gave in return, not even sparing her a glance as you turned another page.

"Baby please-" you turned around completely, legs swinging over the surprisingly soft cushion, interpting and ignoring her like she'd done to you.

She knew she had no right to expect anything from you, but that didn't stop the disappointment that bloomed in her chest. She headed to the kitchen, stomach empty, yet not quite hungry, and odd feeling for her.

Violet swore the universe was trying to make her feel even worse, warm food was placed on her side of the table, it was one of her favorite meals. You probably got some earlier, to greet her home after a long two days of working.

Guilt ate at her while she ate the meal you prepared for her, she hoped you'd be able to eat together, but the dirty plate by the sink indicated that you had dinner without her.

Violet washed both of your dishes before heading to bed, restless but not tired. She was damn near close to praying you'd let her cuddle you, bring either of you some form of comfort for the night.

But, it seemed like you had other plans, minutes turned into hours while Vi waited for you, but you never came.

Slightly panicked, she made her way to the living room. The view was enough to make her cry.

You looked so small on the couch, a thin blanket thrown over your body while you rose with each breath.

You woke to your girlfriend carrying you, with the small amount of power you had in you, you tried to push her away, which soon proved itself to be pointless, her grip on you was sturdy.

"Sweets, I know you're mad at me, but you're not sleeping on the couch." You nearly scoffed at her words, how dare she tell you what to do after being so cruel. "I'll sleep there instead, you get comfy." Now that woke you up.

She laid you down on your bed, tucking you in snugly and hesitantly placing a kiss on you forehead, "Night baby."

Before you could stop yourself, your hand shoot out to grab her arm, "Stay.", even though it was one quiet word, you swore you saw Vi's eyes sparkle when you said it.

She laid down beside you, heart hammering in her chest when you went to cuddle against her. She returned your embrace, holding you gently, as if you'd break.

"I'm so sorry" she whispered softly, her lips brushed against your head as she pecked it a few times. "I know, it's okay." You looked up at her, a soft look on your face, one that she missed so much.

A few moments passed, yet none of you could fall asleep. "'M not really that tired." "Me either, missed you so much." You only hummed as an answer, kissing her neck softly, hands tracing over her tattoos, Violet felt like she didn't deserve you, you were so kind even after she was the opposite.

She sat up, "C'mere, muffin" She patted her lap, waiting for you to oblige, which of course you did, always so sweet.

Violet traced small kisses on your collarbone, holding you tightly against her, her hands slipped under your shirt, roaming along your back.

Slightly impatient, you lifted your shirt over your head, Violet sighed lovingly when she saw your body, eyes searching everywhere she could, her calloused hands rubbed up your sides.

Her head dipped between your breasts, kissing you all over, sucking hickeys onto your skin, while her hands played with your tits.

The sound of your queit pants only drove her to do more, she pushed you against the mattress, working her way down your stomach, stopping at your pants, looking up at you.

You answered her silent question with a nod and she nearly tore off your pants, along with your panties.

She left even more kisses, on your hips, inner thighs, and as much as you loved her affection, you wanted her to touch you where you needed most, "Vi, please."

Usually, Violet was a bit more of a tease, making you wait longer until giving you what you wanted, but tonight was an exception. So, she dove straight between your thighs, peppering light kisses before finally using her tounge.

You both moaned in union, it'd been too long since you'd been intimate, Violet ate you out like a starved woman.

She held you down by your hips with one hand, while the other crept towards your core.

You let out a suprised gasp when you felt her fingers prodding at your entrance, "Baby, you taste so fucking good." You could only answer with moans as she started pumping two of her fingers inside you, all while sucking on your clit.

"You're so good, such a good girl for me." She replaced her mouth with her thumb rubbing smooth circles on your clit while fingering you. Violet moved up to see your face, your moans only got needier when she spoke, "Vi, baby, fuck." Your eyes closed and your mouth fell open, "Shhh, don't worry princess, I'll take good care of you."

A chocked moan escaped your lips when she added a third finger, "Fuck, you're so tight."

Vi kissed you softly before moving her head back between your legs, "I know you're close, you can cum baby."

The feeling of her mouth and fingers pushed you over the edge, a mixture between loud moans and Vi's name filled the room.

"There, there, good girl, so fucking good." You looked down to see Violet looking at you, "You look beautiful when you cum."

Violets fingers slowed before she pulled them out completely, "Let's get you cleaned up." Vi walked out the room before quickly returning with a wet cloth.

Once she was done with making sure you were okay, she got in bed beside you, cradling your head against her chest.

"Love you." You mumbled, voice muffled slightly.

Vi smiled, placing a long kiss on the top of your head, "Love you too."

(Short but sweet fic with Vi, thought this idea was too cute to not write❤)

#arcane violet #violet arcane #vi arcane #vi x reader #arcane vi x reader #vi arcane x reader #vi x reader fluff #vi x reader angst #vi x reader smut #vi smut #vi fluff #vi angst

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nightowlwriting · 3 years

Text

summary: steve is acting weird. avoiding you, being snippy and mean, leaving the room when you enter. all you want is your boyfriend back, but all he wants is to pretend you don't exist. when he's almost hurt on a mission, you do what you're made to do.

word count: 11k

reader specifics: no race/gender/sexuality/body type mentioned, no pronouns for reader used, powered!reader, insecure!reader

warnings: steve is mean to the reader in the beginning, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, canon-level violence, brief ptsd symptoms, slight description of blood, brief mention of racism in the '30s & '40s

brief mentions of: reader's parents being toxic, homelessness, past accidents, ableism in the past & present

note: this one hurt me lmfao. idk why this went the way it did but i'm not mad at it // also i am a queer, trans, disabled american. i have fundamental disagreements with things that marvel/the mcu as it stands for and some of the more nuanced things that you might not notice unless you're looking for it. this will take place in my writing because i cannot separate myself from the lens in which i consume/create content.

title credit: lil nas x

mobile masterlist - request - support my work? - ao3

Falling in love with Steve Rogers went against every instinct you had. You knew that he was going to hurt you from the first moment your lips touched his. Sure - he’s clever, righteous, courteous… You can’t forget he’s also drop-dead gorgeous because every trashy gossip magazine in a three-state radius of New York doesn’t let you forget. Neither does the sight of him waking up in your bed every morning. (Well, actually, maybe that would remind you if he was still fucking doing that.)

But lately, you’ve had to rely on the fucking tabloids to catch a glimpse of your super-hero boyfriend. The university class you had picked up on a whim at the end of the summer - Life & Times of the ‘30s and ‘40s - avoids any mention of Steve Rogers and the Howling Commandos. Not that your classmates do because, Christ on a bike, those magazines manage to catch pictures of you and Steve in moments that you don’t even remember. Plus, you’re an Avenger too. It’s bound to catch some attention when you waltz into a college classroom.

You’re sure if you were an undergrad trying to fill a gen-ed requirement and were sitting next to someone who could kill you without blinking but also dating Captain Rogers you’d be a little distracted too. You try not to blame your classmates too much, but they do make it hard to concentrate with their -really dating Captain America?- and -wonder if I could get an autograph- whispers. None of that matters because you’re learning, really studying, in between missions and missing Steve and believing that maybe the gossip reporters are right.

Maybe he’s forgotten about you.

You grit your teeth and push the thought away. It does you no good right now, while you’re training with Peter. He’s working his way up to bona fide missions and, because you’re the only one on the team who has experience with real-life teenagers outside of saving their lives, it’s up to you to get him to the level that he needs to be. Plus, the mission where he’s going to get his gills wet is just you, Tony, Steve, Nat, and Bucky. You’d much rather be the one to train him because you won’t traumatize him.

Right now, though, you’re just kicking his ass to try and get rid of some of the tension in your body. You feel a little bad about it, but when you started as his mentor you told him point-blank that you’d never go easy on him. That meant if you were having a bad day he either needed to up his game or he’d have a bad day too. It appears he’s taken that to heart as he struggles to dodge the hits you’re throwing his way. He lunges out of the way when you try to land a right hook but practically walks into the leg sweep that sends him crashing to the ground.

“Awe,” Peter groans, letting his guard down. You take the momentary lapse of focus to grab him by the collar of the hoodie he’s wearing and haul him to his feet, jerking one fist back to cold-clock him but he beats you to it. You hear the sound of your nose cracking before you feel it but then the pain rushes you all at once. You’ve had worse but coming from Peter, the move surprises you. You don’t yell out but he does when you push him away from you and call the fight off. Peter practically yelps your name, hands up by his head as he watches you bend at the waist, both hands over where your nose is absolutely gushing blood. “I am so sorry, I just reacted-!”

“It’s fine, Pete,” You shake your head and stand straight again, the blood beginning to leak through your fingers, “Just go get me a towel, okay?” Peter practically trips over his feet to get something for your nose and as you track him on his way into the locker rooms, you see Steve, Bucky, and Nat. The latter are looking your way, eyebrows raised like they’re asking you if you’re okay. Steve hasn’t even broken stride in his conversation so you wave them off with a bloody hand. Peter’s back in a flash, pressing a wet towel into your grasp and snapping you out of your self-pity party. “It was a good hit,” You compliment as you wipe your face off, “I just wasn’t expecting it. Prob’ly wouldn't have landed it if I had.”

He wrings his hands, shifting from foot to foot. “I’m sorry-”

“It’s a good thing, Peter, means you’re getting better.” You deadpan, checking to see if your nose has stopped bleeding yet, “I don’t think you actually broke it, but I’ll go down to medical to check later.” You do your best to clean up your hands with the wet towel, but it’s so soaked with your blood that it mostly just smears it around. You grimace and shake your head. “Well, I should go now before our sparring match ends up looking like I murdered you.”

“I’ll go with,” He offers, “I’m the one who broke your nose.” You let Peter walk you down to medical even though you were originally going to refuse. Perhaps petty, but it was the way that Steve didn’t even look your way as you left that made you let the teenager walk you the two floors to where you’d be able to clean yourself up. He hums in the elevator and you know that he wants to ask you something - it’s the way he holds his mouth when he’s prying for information or keeping a secret that tips you off. Finally, just before the elevator opens, you sigh and turn to him.

“What, Peter?” He grins but then it falls when he has to skitter after you down the hall. Maybe that’s why it falls - the question he asks next nearly sends you to your ass.

“Is everything okay with you and Captain Rogers?” He easily catches up to you when you stop in your tracks, ignoring that you’re still bleeding a little bit down your face and you might be dripping blood everywhere from where it’s run down your arms.

“What?” You do your best to look confused like everything is fine, but Peter is perceptive. He may fumble around and be pretty awkward, but those are really just teenager things that he’ll hopefully outgrow. You should have known that when someone caught onto how bad things are on your end, it would be Peter. (You wonder if Nat or Bucky has brought it up with Steve, considering he’s spent more time with them in the past week than he’s seen you in the past month.) “We’re fine.” Your words are stilted as you begin walking to the medical wing much faster than before.

“I just thought I’d ask, well, because I’ve sort of noticed… Something just seems off, you know? Like, you two used to spend a lot of time together, and maybe it’s the recon mission coming up, but I was just thinking that you two really barely look at each other even when you’re in the same -”

“Peter!” You say his name much louder than either of you expected and both of you jump. “Peter,” You say softer, looking at the glass door to the medical wing instead of him, “Just leave it, okay? It’s nothing you have to worry about, kid.” Peter ducks around to open the door, forcing you to look at him. “He’s just focused on his stuff and I’m focused on getting you whipped into shape for this mission. We only have two days.” Once you’re inside and surrounded by the medical crew Tony keeps on staff, he thankfully drops it. You love Peter, you do, but it’s a lot like having a little brother. You can only love them so much before you want to fucking strangle them. Eventually, as the doctor checks to make sure he hasn’t broken your nose, you have to order him away to go study or something. “I’ll join you later,” You promise him as the doctor prods at your tender flesh, “I have an essay due soon.”

That’s another thing that’s been bugging you that Peter surely picked up on. Nearly everybody knew you were taking a course at the local community college, but nobody knew what it was about. You’d wanted to keep it a secret until you told Steve, but the day you had registered he’d flown out for a two-week mission without telling you or saying goodbye. After that, you decided it didn’t really matter if anyone knew what class you were taking, and keeping it a secret sort of spiraled from there. If they wanted to know they could look it up. Maybe it was petty, but you just wanted the class to be over and done with so you could forget that you really only picked it up so you relate to your boyfriend more.

If you can even call Steve your boyfriend anymore. You’re not so sure where you stand and, honestly, you’re really close to giving up on the relationship as a whole but you can’t do that. Before you were dating, you were friends, and Steve… He never gave up on you. Not once. How could you repay him by giving up on your relationship? The one that you thought was The One? Even if it hurts, even if you’re unsure more than sure these days, how could you? Somewhere, though, you know you deserve better. You don’t deserve the sinking, dark feeling that lingers in your gut for most of your days now or the way that you second-guess every move you make - even in the field. It’s dangerous but you can’t do anything to fix it.

You’re too scared. You know that eventually, it will happen, he’ll break up with you, but you’d like to put that day off for as long as possible. To relish in the love he once had for you, how pure and powerful it was. You’re sure that you’ll never experience anything like that again.

Hell, you might never fall in love again.

Those thoughts don’t do anything to help you, though, so you try not to have them. You get clearance from the doctor and get cleaned up as much as you can without taking a full body shower. The idea to go back to your room and take one crosses your mind but you know that Steve’s probably done training, probably heading back for his own shower, and you don’t want to open that can of worms. Instead, you go to the common room and drop into the couch between Peter and Tony. They’re talking about something something science something something, but you pull your stack of books and notebooks out from the shelf underneath the coffee table and continue outlining your essay from where you left off. The assignment was focused on how the end of WW1 changed American life and then how life changed leading up to and during WW2 but that had hit a little too close to home for you, so you’re writing about the racial tension and overall racism of the times. Tony and Peter keep talking over your back and then you hear footsteps heading toward the common room.

You barely look up when they enter - Nat and Bucky - because it’s fine. It’s normal. They’re just two of Steve’s best friends, that’s all, nothing to be jumpy about. You don’t even register that emotional pain that hits when you realize that, yeah, you’re not one of his best friends anymore. You doubt you’re even considered a friend in his book.

You groan and lean back into the couch, bringing your study materials with you. Peter glances over, skimming over your page and a half of shorthand, and gags. “Jesus, can you write like a normal person?”

“Oh, sorry,” You say lazily, not looking up as you continue to scribble in your incomprehensible code, “I do forget that some of us had privacy at home.” You lift your lips just a little bit to let Peter know you’re kidding, looking up at him through your lashes as you slouch next to him. He looks red in the face. “Besides, once you have to start doing mission reports you’ll be begging me to learn my shorthand and use my stenography machine.”

“I keep telling you that I can update that ol’ thing,” Tony draws your attention. For the first time, you realize that Nat and Bucky are on the loveseat looking at you expectantly. Steve is standing in the corner over their shoulder reading a book from the bookshelf in front of him. His back is tense and he looks like he’s not reading, just listening. You force your eyes back to Tony on your right and shake your head.

“No, because then you’d know my shorthand and it makes me too happy to see you spend hours trying to decipher it.” His eyes wander to your essay again, trying to find any patterns that he can use to figure out what the hell you’re writing on anything ever. He’s opening his mouth to make a smart-ass remark that will no doubt lift some of the weight off of your shoulders when another voice speaks up.

“Wow,” Steve doesn’t even look at you even as he says your name sardonically, “Way to be a team player.” Your mind comes to a screeching halt, trying to figure out what the fuck he’s playing at. Even Bucky and Nat look surprised at the cold way he spoke to you, Tony and Peter both gasping from your side. You can’t say anything, throat tight and burning with tears as you stare at your boyfriend with raised eyebrows. What do you say to that? How do you respond? You know it wasn’t a joke because he’s not laughing, not smiling, not even looking up from that fucking book in his hands. You can’t tell if you’re more hurt or embarrassed, but either way, you don’t want to stick around for someone to get the nerve to say something.

Instead of replying, you slam your textbooks shut and bundle everything into your arms. You doubt Steve even notices that you’re making such a hasty retreat but if he does, he doesn’t say a fucking thing. You feel like you’re in high school - practically running through an empty hallway with your notebooks and textbooks pressed to your chest, trying not to cry. It’s ridiculous. You’re a trained assassin, you’re an Avenger, you are strong and powerful and yet… And yet. You’ve given so much of your heart and soul to Steve Rogers that he can knock you down eight pegs without even trying. Without even looking at you. You can’t wait to go on this fucking recon mission, where you can put all of your focus on making sure Peter is doing okay and gathering the intel. Where you can stop thinking about how easily Steve Rogers seems to be pushing you to the side.

You spend the next two days writing your essay, ignoring almost everyone, and working on your essay. On the day of the recon mission, you’re running out the door for your eight a.m lecture, printed essay in hand, and reminding Tony that he promised to pick you up on campus after class for the mission.

You’re lucky that you went, too. You hadn’t counted on the professor making everyone stand up and tell the class the subject of their essays - didn’t realize that it would be twenty-five percent of the grade on the paper. You’ll never understand college professors and the weird shit they do, but the class is informative and entertaining. He goes around the room, starting on the opposite side of you, so you’ll be last. Great.

Several students did their papers on the propaganda of the time, one student was brave and did her essay on the ethical dilemma of the super-soldier serum and eugenics, and most of the other students focused on pop culture and how it changed. When your professor looks at you it’s almost like he’s expecting you to have done nothing but fawn over Steve and Bucky, considering you know them personally. He looks surprised when you clear your throat, stand and say: “I focused on the casual and institutional racism that faced non-white Americans at the time.” You almost preen when he looks impressed and then the shame fills you. It’s just… You want Steve to be proud of you. You want him to congratulate you on going back to school, even if it’s just for one class. You want him to be happy and surprised that he was the inspiration for taking the class.

Though, lately, the class has been more for you than for him. You like learning new things, pushing the boundaries of assignments, making people uncomfortable with the truth of the times you’re studying as told to you by two people who lived it. It’s nice. Normal.

Everyone needs a little bit of normal.

But, honestly, normal is fucking boring. By the time your class is over and you’re handing in your essay it’s like ants are crawling over your skin. A combination of nerves from the upcoming mission, a head full of fog from whatever is happening with Steve, and a little bit of fear at the thought of taking Peter into the field has you bolting for the door the moment your essay is taken from you. You’d worn your tac-suit underneath a pair of baggy sweats and a loose hoodie, so you don’t even bother slowing down as you head toward the car that Tony has waiting for you. He’s in the front seat, grinning at you from underneath his aviators and Peter is driving.

You slip into the backseat without thinking or looking at who’s there, tossing your bag in the back and peeling your hoodie off. “God, Tone, we’re goin’ to die before we even get to the mission with Petey driving.” You toss your hoodie back to join your bag and finally see who’s sitting next to you.

Of course, it’s Steve. He’s looking at you - but not really. He’s looking through you, like he can’t stand that you’re both crammed in the backseat of Tony’s electric car. His gaze catches you and holds you in place. Everything around you goes cold and fuzzy, making you miss Peter’s indignant complaining that he has his license so he should be able to drive… And then Steve scoffs and looks out his window, ignoring you. It stings but you have a job to do. You make some witty retort back to Peter, but it falls flat as you struggle out of your sweats. This is what life is, you think. Relationships aren’t meant to be forever - you learned that at a young age.

Until your accident at fifteen, you had watched your parents run out of helium, their relationship expanding and cooling in arguments, in days spent not talking, in trips to your grandparents without the other, in passive-aggressive computer searches for divorce attorneys left open for anyone to see. Then, after you were trapped between those machines - after you spent hour after agonizing hour with electricity pressing between your atoms, being torn apart and rebuilt as a young god - after that day you watched them expand against each other before the neutron core of their relationship collapsed on itself and the resulting supernova sent you to the streets. But then Fury found you. Then Tony, then Nat, then Steve.

Your parents exploded out from each other and the shockwaves ruined your life. At least now, your relationship with Steve is ending silently. There’s no explosion, no collapse, no rapid expansion to take over your cosmos. Your relationship with Steve is simply approaching the event horizon, where it will hang in the air until one of you takes the final step and you both become frozen, two collapsing objects on opposite sides of the universe. Maybe that’s what you already are. You feel so far away from him in the back of Tony’s car - like he’s eons and light-years away from you - and you feel so cold. Frozen, down to the bone. It makes you stiff in your replies to Tony and Peter, slow on the uptake when the car pulls up to the quinjet, nearing stasis and unable to respond when Nat asks if you’re okay.

Finally, you turn to look at her, nodding. “Fine,” You clear your throat, “Been a rough day.” You do your best to smile at her, but your face feels heavy. Your chest feels cold and tight, making you worry about your performance on the upcoming mission. When Peter shakes his head next to you, discreetly telling Nat not to press, you’re focused on Steve and the electricity humming in the most base part of your body.

He scoffs and rolls his eyes. You turn away and force yourself to smile, throwing a weak and numb arm over Peter’s shoulders. “Are you ready for this, Pete?” You jostle him back and forth, leading him toward the sitting area behind the cockpit. “Gonna get your ass kicked?”

“Please,” He shoves you off, nervously laughing, “Not with the skills you’ve taught me.” He mimics throwing webs, making hissing noises under his breath, and you bark out a laugh, shaking your head.

“You’re payin’ my medical bills when I have to save your ass, Spidey.” You shake your head and strap in next to the wall, Peter taking the seat to your right. Tony, from the aisle across from you, points a thick finger your way.

“You don’t pay medical bills anymore,” He waggles his finger, “So you’ll just have to make him do your homework for a week.”

“Mister Stark!”

“He’ll have to earn shorthand to do your essays,” Nat chimes in from between Bucky and Steve, who are both doing their best to not look at you - or anyone really. “You willing to share that with him?”

You lean back in your seat and jab at Peter with your elbow. “Hell no, so I guess Spider-Boy better do his best.” The arachnid in question grumbles, crossing his arms and slouching in his seat.

“No pressure, right?” He complains, “Not like I’m already nervous or anything.”

“You’ll do fine, kid,” Bucky pipes up, drawing your eyes back to Steve, “It’s goin’ to be a cakewalk.”

“Don’t jinx it, Barnes,” You warn half-heartedly, tucking in on yourself, “We need this to be easy.” From the look on his face - everyone’s face, really - you know that they heard you loud and clear when you were really saying I need this to be easy.

After an uneasy laugh from Bucky, a claustrophobic silence settles over you all as the jet begins to take off. You’re in for an hour ride and plan to spend it going over battle plans with Peter when harsh whispering catches your ear. It’s Bucky and Steve nearly crushing Nat between them until she gets up and sits across from Peter, rolling her eyes. Still, you try your best to run him through the actions you both had planned - the names, the setups you needed to execute them, everything. If something happens to Peter, you’ll never forgive yourself.

And then, cutting through your soft promptings to Peter and his equally soft replies, Bucky’s voice. “Leave it, Steve. Until after this mission.” Even Tony looks up from his tablet, curiosity piqued. Their faces are both red, set hard and angry at each other and your stomach drops. What the hell is going on that Steve ‘Till The End Of The Line Rogers is fighting with Bucky You And Me, Pal Barnes? You must shift, or lean too far into Steve’s eyesight, because for the first time in what feels like years he is looking directly at you - and seeing you, too. It makes your pulse jump and, almost instinctively, you want to reach out and ground yourself on the rubber of the seat underneath you.

You don’t get the chance, though, because Steve speaks. “No, why should I? This is clearly affecting the team.” He’s still looking - glaring - at you like you’ve done something wrong. “What’s the point of waiting? I’ve been waiting to talk about this.”

“Bo, I don’t think this is the time,” Bucky looks over his shoulder at you, then, and you know what’s coming. You know that it’s time, that Steve is about to break up with you in front of your teammates. Your friends. Your family. You steel yourself for the anguish you’re about to feel and then jerk your chin out, hardening your resolve.

“Buck, it’s fine. If Steve wants to address something, he can.”

Natasha says your name, a low warning over the hum of the quinjet. “I think he should wait.”

“Well, I’m not goin’ to wait!” Steve unbuckles himself and stands, “I have tried waiting, and look at where that has gotten me.” He puts his hands on his hips and puffs out a breath. You unbuckle and stand, too, unsure of where this is going. “You need to,” He holds one hand out, pointing at you while his voice shakes. You notice his hand is shaking, too, but fractionally. If you didn’t know Steve as well as you do you may have never noticed it. “You need to get it together.”

“I need to get it together?” You question, eyebrows nearly hitting the ceiling with how fast they shoot up. You’re not totally sure you’ve heard him right because what do you have to get together? The broken shards of your relationship? The information and research for your final paper? The awful way you’ve let yourself be treated for what seems like forever?

“You heard me,” Steve says, at the same time Bucky leans his head back and groans deep in his chest. “What? Someone had to say it.”

“We should wait for this,” Nat speaks up again, but lifelessly. She knows now that you and Steve are both on the warpath, neither of you are going to stop. (That’s also why the two of you work together as a couple so well. Very rarely are you both so worked up about something that you can’t back down, so the other is always there to meet you halfway and get you back to earth.)

“No, no, no,” You say, near hysterically, “No, he wants to do this now? Before a mission? Instead of the fuckin’ weeks we had to hash whatever crawled up his ass and died out? Be my guest. He’s already dragged everyone into this by treating me like a pariah.” You’re not sneering, but your teeth are gritted so tightly together you can hear them scraping and feel a tension headache beginning to bloom in your temples. Bucky looks… Almost incredulous at your statement. Like putting the blame on Steve is a dick move or something.

“Oh, so I’m the bad guy here?” Steve is curling his lip, glaring at you. There’s something behind his eyes, but he’s buried it so deep that you can’t reach it and figure out what it is. “I’m the bad guy, right. Right, right, right.” He scoffs, shakes his head, and then he’s running his fingers through his hair like he really can’t believe what you’re saying to him.

“Well, what else am I supposed to think?” You throw your hands out to the side and let them slap back down on your thighs. “You ignore me, you make me feel like shit, you talk down to me like I’m some insignificant foot soldier. How else am I supposed to take that, Steve?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe ask me what’s wrong? Maybe ask me why I’m acting like this, instead of ignoring all of your problems like a child?” He mirrors your moments, but the sound his hands make when they hit the outside of his suit is more powerful than yours. Fueled by anger, you think. Anger and whatever the hell was in the serum Erskine pumped into Steve.

“Ask you?” You repeat, near-hysterical, “Ask you? Oh yeah, let me get right on that. Hey, Mister Rogers? Mister Captain America? Mister Ignores-His-Partner-For-God-Knows-Why? Hey, just why are you doin’ that?” You’re surprised that you’ve said something so snotty, but you don’t back down. (Steve looks surprised, too, and Bucky has stood up next to his friend like he’s about to start berating you as well. At least he looks more cautious about it, like he’s not totally sure that this fight should be happening.)

The more surprising part of your fight is how fast it’s shut down. Tony and Nat stand at the same time and exchange a glance like they’ve surprised each other. “That’s enough,” Tony starts.

Nat cuts him off. “I don’t care if you fight this one out instead of talking, but if you do it before this recon mission you two are going to blow it. Do you understand me?” She looks dangerous, the sharp edge of a knife spiraling through the air. You force yourself to look away from her, from Tony, from Bucky, from Steve. She’s right. You know she’s right - especially on this mission. Peter is there, going to be in real danger even though there’s not supposed to be one Hydra agent in a four-mile radius. You have to clear your mind and focus on protecting him.

Steve seems to think the same thing because he stands down. When you watch him collapse in on himself, Bucky’s arms around his shoulders, into the little quinjet seats your everything aches. Heart, lungs, eyes - everything. Even though you don’t know what’s going on, what could have possibly happened to make your relationship sink this quickly and out of the blue, you still love him. He’s still The One for you. You still want to be the one to comfort him and make him feel whole when he’s struggling.

But you can’t. You can’t and it kills you.

The heat of battle makes a lot of things fade into the background. Important things like why the fuck are there Hydra agents here? and Steve is going to break up with you when you get back on the jet and Tony swore on the fucking limited edition AC/DC vintage tour poster he has in his office that this would be an easy in/easy out information mission. None of that matters, though, because you’re in deep shit. There are seventeen of them, all primed to the teeth with weapons made to take your team down permanently.

You’re practically glued to Peter, calling out commands and plans for him to initiate. It’s when all of your plans fall through that you take a hit from a heavy fist on purpose, hitting the ground hard. “Plan F, Spidey, Plan F!” You cover the instruction with a groan and then you’re back on your feet, working your way toward him.

“Plan F?” Tony says, somewhere above you in his suit. Your comms crackle ominously as another heat-seeking grenade is launched, interfering with the radio waves your tech relies on. You don’t worry about it, because you know Tony is on it. He’s your eyes in the sky.

Peter is the one who answers his question, watching your close hand-to-hand tilt out of your favor briefly. “Plan Fuck It, Mister Stark.” He grunts as he webs up a Hydra agent, jerking him away from where he was about to slip a knife up and under Natasha’s kevlar. You finally drop the guy in front of you, ignoring Steve’s disappointed Language! and toss one of your knives toward Nat for her to use. Tony is still laughing in your ear, wheezing as he drops down and snags the rifle from one of the snipers and then takes back off.

What your little protégé failed to mention about Plan F is that it’s not just chaos, but controlled chaos. You let loose, letting a soft current cover every inch of your skin as Peter switches to his conductive webbing and takes special care to not web any of his allies. Except for you - if you’re in the way and he catches you in a web it doesn’t matter because you’re you, alive with electricity that drops the men that get caught in the web, too. You rip out of the webs and turn the current off when one of your teammates gets too close.

More Hydra agents are pouring out of the woods, topping out their numbers around twenty-five. That’s twenty-five too many in your opinion, especially when you can see Peter getting tired, his anxiety spiking, his moves having more and more hesitation behind them. You need to get this over with quickly, but you don’t have the options to do that. Steve, Bucky, and Nat are really the heavy-hitters - you, Pete, and Tony are the only ones without serums despite all of your individual abilities. Desperately you reach out for a web that’s still connected to Peter’s arms, pulling him out of the way of a baton that’s about to come down on the back of his neck.

The baton the agent is wielding glints in the coming dusk, freezing you as Peter scrambles past you with a quick apology. You’ve seen that before - seen it, felt it, know it like the back of your hand. There’s no way that you could ever forget that weapon. The man stumbles when his hit doesn’t connect but then rights himself and searches for a new target.

A long, black baton that splits into two prongs at the end is heavy in his hand. Electricity crackles between the bulbs at the end, flashing in the setting sun and your memories. The man only has one, but if it was hooked up to a machine, spinning. If there were four, five, six. If you were pinned between them, screaming in the pain as they rewrote your DNA… You’ve only felt it once, but you’ll never forget it.

And now, you’ll taste it again. On purpose this time. The man holding the stun baton is going for Steve’s back - his strong back, the one that protects people, the one that holds the weight of the world, the one that lays in your bed, the one you see whipping out of rooms as you’re entering just so that he doesn’t have to look at you - and you can’t let that happen. It only takes ten amps to kill a regular human, but you know those things are cranked up to twenty minimum. You don’t want to see how many amps of current it will take to stop Steve’s heart. You’re between the baton and Steve before you can think about what you’re doing or what comes next, the hard bulbs settling unyielding into your side and cranking out maximum power for maximum damage as soon as the current is connected and able to flow from one bulb to the other.

The pain hits you and your throat catches on it. It burns through your body, setting everything on fire - your chest hurts as your heart protests the electrons and then your powers kick in, sweeping them into your very atoms and cells. You’re a live wire now, ears humming and body thrumming with power you’ve only dreamed of. It hurts, and it burns, and you feel tears rising in your eyes because you’re back there - back begging for death or for life or for God and god at the same time - but then it’s over. The man sees that you’re not seizing up, not dropping dead in front of him, and he takes three steps back.

It’s not far enough.

You’ve only felt like this once before - right after you were unhooked from the machine that changed your life and brought you to your new family. You remember how you looked when you were put in front of a mirror with all of the pent up electricity circling your body - how your eyes were filled to the brim and dripping with bright and blue electricity, the way it was jumping across your body, how you didn’t need to breathe because your body was fully saturated with pure, unadulterated power. You wonder if you look like that now and assume you do because you can see the bright blue reflecting in the terrified eyes of the Hydra agent.

Your suit, unlike everyone else’s, is not grounded. It’s metal, metal, metal. You’re made to conduct, born for it, and the earth beneath you comes alive with bright white as you release all of the energy, the power, surges down and out. You’re practiced. You can reach out and feel the synapses and neurons of every human being in the clearing, know exactly where your teammates are standing, and know exactly how to target everything but them and the pitiful amount of electricity their brains carry. You grin, something truly feral and unhinged, and you can see the fear in the Hydra agent. Then, you let go.

You know that everyone is going to be pissed. (Maybe not everyone.) You’re not built for this, not made to take down nearly twenty fucking people at once. As you let go, you feel what they feel. The seizing muscles, the stopping of their hearts, the inside of their bodies crisping against their bones. At that moment, that delicious moment, you see the universe.

You become God. You become everything - your mother and your father and God and god and anyone else who’s watching your life from the ether. You become the judge, jury, and executioner of souls that you don’t know from Adam. You become lightning, and thunder, and exposed nerves of the cosmos at the same time. The world bends to your will and you relish in it, taking that power in your fist and wielding it to protect the man you’ll love for the rest of your life and the family that you’ve made. You will stop at nothing to end this, even if it means turning yourself inside out to do it.

You damn near do turn yourself inside out too, but that doesn’t matter, does it? The blood spilling from your ears, nose, and eyes feels like heaven. It’s hot, and thick, and it’s proof of the power that your body holds. You’re a temple and a sanctuary, a war-room and a bunker, a field of flowers and a sun-dry desert. It does not matter if Steve doesn’t love you at that moment, because you are love and hate wrapped into one package. You are everything and nothing, spread thin at the beginning and the end of time.

And then none of that is true. You are just… You. Standing in a clearing, surrounded by twenty-something dead Hydra agents and your terrified, terrified family. It hurts to breathe and you can taste blood in your mouth, but that’s an afterthought. Steve is still standing behind you, but he is alive. That is what matters.

This is what love is, you think.

Pain and pleasure.

Even if he leaves you, you will always love him.

Pain and pleasure.

You’re weak at the knees when he finally turns to see you - and you’re a sight. Struggling to stand, fingertips blackened with soot but not burnt, blood pouring from your nose, ears, eyes… You look like death, but you feel like life. Someone says something behind you - Peter, maybe? Or maybe Tony, in your comms? - but you don’t hear it. Everything tunnels out, your weak knees finally collapsing as you keel backward.

Steve bears down upon you almost immediately. You’re halfway to unconsciousness when he wraps you up in his arms, keeping you from falling in with the pile of bodies around you. He’s saying your name, harsh and soft and then in a voice like he’s ordering you to wake up. You loll about as he drops you down onto a patch of clear grass, hands searching your body for wounds. When he skims over your side, where the baton has burnt through your suit and your flesh, you surge back toward being able to have cohesive thoughts. The pain brings you back, hands wrapping around Steve’s arm and calling out his name. “Steve! Fuck, that hurts!”

“Honey,” He breathes, “Fuck, we have to get you back to the jet.” His jaw ticks, hair dirty and loose from its normal style. “Why’d you do that?” Steve doesn’t wait for an answer from you, ordering Peter to web something up to carry you over your protests.

“I’m fine,” You argue, only slurring slightly, “I feel fine.” But you’re going to let Nat and Bucky load you up on the webbed stretcher anyway because it’s the first time Steve has cared for you in a long time. You want to relish in this moment, the way that he didn't say your name but called you honey.

Well, and because Natasha slides a thumb across her neck over Steve’s shoulder in a silent threat.

You groan when Bucky accidentally grabs your calf where there is an absolutely awful stab wound, but you wave off his apology. “How could you have known?” To be honest, you hadn’t even known it was there until his Vibranium hand was slipping against it and sending shockwaves of pain through you. Peter is next to you the whole time that you’re being carried back to the jet - Tony staying back to begin scanning the bodies of the Hydra agents for the information you need and any other information they may be carrying. The poor kid is nearly at a breakdown, so you reach out to him and shake his arm when his fingers twine with yours. “Chill out, kid, I don’t know how you got it into your head that this is your fault, but it sure isn’t.” He sniffles, but hands back with Steve as Bucky and Nat get you situated in the small medical room of the jet. They transfer you and then make to leave, only Bucky hesitating near the door.

“Stevie’s goin’ to be here soon and… I don’t know what made you do what you did but you have’t explain it to him. He’s bendin’ over backwards to figure it out, and we don’t have’a clue. Came out’a nowhere.” He looks at you for another moment before shaking his head and stepping out of the room. Your head is spinning, partially from what Bucky just said and partially from the pain and stimulus of electricity. You wait there, then, because this is it. This is the event horizon. You wait there, eyes closed, until you hear footsteps approach the med room, and then the door slowly opens. Steve says your name, holding all the finality and weight of an atomic bomb. You don’t open your eyes until he swings a chair next to the stretcher and lays a hand on your calf.

“You don’t have to do this,” You finally say, pushing yourself up onto your elbows to watch him. “I know that you don’t want to.” Steve only scoffs and begins to wash the stab wound using a packet of soap and a water bottle. You say his name twice before he looks at you, something between hate and hurt curdling into a glaze over his eyes that stops you in your tracks.

“Just let me do this. It is the least that you can do.” His words are painful and stilted, like it’s taking force to push them past his teeth. You lay back down and close your eyes, content to just feel the pain of Steve beginning to stitch you up and then dress the wound before you feel the pain of Steve leaving you like you knew he always would. (Falling in love with Steve Rogers went against every instinct you had. You knew that he was going to hurt you from the first moment your lips touched his.)

When he’s done he sits back and puts his elbows on his knees, head in his hands. He heaves a heavy sigh and then shakes it off, “I’ll dress your burn, and then we’ll talk.” And normally, yes, you would agree but this is too important. You want to get it over with so you can lick your wounds metaphorically and dress them literally - and then you want to go home, you want to pack your bags, and you want to disappear and remake your life somewhere else.

Some far-off place where everyone you know won’t take one look at your face and know that you’re still painfully, deeply in love with Steve Rogers, end of your semester be damned. Family you’ve made be damned. You can’t sit around and be in love with him like a neon sign on a dark highway while it’s painfully clear that he hasn’t had a sign on his highway in a long time.

So instead of agreeing, you swing your legs over the stretcher and swallow your flinch when the burn pulls tight. Steve opens his mouth to argue but you give him a tight-lipped shake of your head and his jaw snaps shut. “No,” You say, voice not giving in to the emotion swirling in your chest. “I have let this go on long enough.”

It’s the wrong thing to say because Steve fucking scoffs again and looks away from you. “One day was long enough.” He says, cutting straight to your core. Okay, ouch. You take a deep breath and shake your head to try and bite back the tears that are inevitably rising in your eyes. If one day was long enough for him to realize he doesn’t want to be with you, why did he let it go on for nearly a full year? Why did he spend so long leading you on, pulling you by a thread before garroting your heart with it? What was the point?

“If you want to leave me, just say that,” You reply harshly, standing and wobbling away from him. He just watches you go, watches the way you struggle past the lead weights your muscles have become, the way you’re starting to feel the stab wound on your leg, the way the skin on your burn is beginning to blister and only just now losing its heat. He just watches you, where the Steve that loved you once upon a time might have helped. You turn your back on him, hands on your hips so that you can hide the way that you’re crying and your hands are shaking.

“If I want to leave you? If?” He says. You hear the scrape of his chair as he stands, “I think after what you’ve done, it’s not an if, sweetheart.” The way he says it tastes like iron. Steve never calls you sweetheart like he never calls you by your name. It’s always honey, lover, dovie. You don’t turn to face him because you’re struggling to keep yourself above water. “I spent so long thinkin’, wonderin’, askin’ myself - God damnit, will you look at me?” You turn slowly, not because you’ve never heard Steve speak like that but because his voice is desperate and raw. When you turn, you’re not sure what to expect. Maybe him, standing in front of you, broad-shouldered and disappointed like in those PSA’s he had to film once. Maybe he’d be angry, hands clenched at his sides and eyes narrowed like he gets in meetings when he doesn’t agree with something but he’s out-voted. But you never expect to see him crying, lip wobbling, folded in on himself like a young boy instead of the strong, invincible man you’ve come to love.

He looks so different.

It hits you, then, that you’re not looking at Steve Rogers. Not really. He's not Steve Rogers, not Captain America, not even Captain Rogers. You see him as he was - before America spat it’s untruths all over him and injected him with a serum that changed who he was, is, will be. He’s not the able-bodied man that you know, not strong and unreachable, not the heartthrob that overshadows the team during press events. He’s not America’s Darling, not really. Not where it counts.

You’re looking at Stevie Rogers. Stevie Rogers who, for all intents and purposes, was supposed to die before he made it out of toddlerhood or soon thereafter. Stevie Rogers who the doctors said wasn’t supposed to survive. Stevie Rogers who grew up sickly, rattling painful breaths and never playing ball with the neighborhood boys. Who couldn’t walk until middle school when he got his braces off. Who never had a partner because Bucky, strong and handsome and tall Bucky, was always deemed the better option. Who believed in his country so much that he tried to sneak into the second world war, subjected himself to a painful medical procedure so that he could change his very DNA to be what the world wanted him to be.

Captain Steve Rogers. Captain America. Strong, blond, patriotic, resilient.

You’re sure that if men don’t want to go to therapy now, in the modern age, they certainly didn’t want to go in the ‘40s. So where did that leave Steve, your Steve, standing in front of you and looking small, and broken, and sad, and alone? Did they expect him to take his new, taller, working body and run with it? Did they not think about how he would lose a part of himself in the process? How did they expect him to go from disabled to abled without some disconnect?

You think about the You That You Were Before and the You That You Are Now, and how you lost a part of yourself when the accident gave you your powers and how you’d lose yourself if someone figured out a way to take them away. You Before formed your identity around being normal - living in a shitty home with shitty parents, sure, but normal - and You Now form your identity around your powers, your team, your job, your love. If you lost those things, what did you have left? Who would you be?

When Steve lost his identity and became everything that America wanted everyone to think that America was, what did he have left? Sure, he could tell himself that he represents America - strong and patriotic and just - but it must have conflicted with everything he knew about himself before that. You know that disabled people now know that American society is unjust, unfit for them with abled people not willing to make room to allow them to thrive. You can only imagine what it was really like for Steve in the ‘20s and ‘30s and ‘40s. What he had to do just to survive. (Medical experimentation, you remind yourself. Did they know it wouldn’t kill him? Did they know his body wouldn’t rip itself apart with the new sinewy muscle they were packing on? Did they care? Or was he just a body they saw as broken? A project to fix? To turn him into something more like them and call it patriotism?)

You shake your head at him, still filled with despair, and try to figure out what he’s talking about. “Stevie,” You start, pet name easily replacing what you had been calling him because it’s not fair to shoe-horn him into a body that doesn’t feel like his own. You wonder if he still expects the bone-grinding pain that he used to tell you would happen when it rains. He raises a hand, a strong and family hand, shaking his head.

“I just need to know why I wasn’t enough for you,” Steve looks sad, slouching in on himself like he’s expecting to get his ass handed to him in another alleyway and hope Bucky is there to save him. “I need to know why you wouldn’t just break up with me if you wanted to see other people so badly.” You suck in a shocked breath because, okay, that’s not what you were expecting. Between that and the paradigm shift you’ve had on how Steve must view his identity, body, and self, you’re stunned. Steve continues like he doesn’t even register that you look shocked and pale and now you’re crying because he thinks you’re cheating on him? “And I get it. I get it. You have no idea how much I understand. If I were you, I wouldn’t want me either, okay?”

You cut him off there because what the actual God damn fuck is he talking about? “No, Stevie, I’m not cheating on you.” You shake your head again and this, your statement, lights a fire in him. He still looks like Stevie rather than Steve, but there’s anger there. You imagine that’s what it might have looked like moments before he got himself in trouble back before he was serumed. “I’m not.”

“Oh, yeah?” He challenges, jaw ticking and chin jerking up, “Oh, yeah? You can’t lie to me. I know, okay? The act is up, it’s over, I know, okay? You can stop pretending.”

“Steve, I do not fucking know what you’re talking about but I”m not cheating on you!” You raise your voice, not really angry but more out of necessity. You need to get it out of his head that he is anything less than everything you want - that you could possibly love anyone more than you love him.

“I wanted to clarify something for you,” Steve says like he’s reading an old script from when he was just a beefy, red/white/blue stage prop for the American military, “I am excited to meet with you, but there are some rules. Do not talk about Captain Steve Rogers. I don’t want to hear about him,” As he continues to recite something that has clearly hurt him, you go lax. You know exactly what’s happened - your fists unclench, your jaw drops a little bit, and it feels like someone has gutted you, “I think it is wise to keep work and pleasure separate, and it’s a rule I will enforce heavily. I look forward to seeing you again.” He’s sneering at the end, tears falling down his ruddy cheeks.

“Steve,” You try again, but he cuts you off.

“Am I just work for you?” His voice is shaking more than you thought possible, and so are his hands. You’ve never seen Steve so off-kilter, so thrown, and it breaks your heart that yes, technically, you’re the cause of this. Before this, before this horrible misunderstanding, your relationship with Steve was the paragon of trust so neither of you cared if the other read emails or texts. You remember the email - the email from your fucking college professor - because it had made you so angry that he’d referred to your relationship with Steve as something as simple and base as just pleasure - like you could even put words to the galaxy of a relationship you had with Steve - that you’d gone to the gym to work off some of that irritation. You hadn’t wanted to take it out on anyone accidentally. When you came back from the gym, Steve was gone on that two-week mission that he’d left on without saying goodbye.

Oh, God. You feel sick to your stomach as the paradigm of the way that Steve’s been treating you shifts violently to the left. You have to physically hold yourself up and try to speak past the lump in your throat. Steve looks… Brokenly smug. Like he knows he’s right, but he’d rather gnaw his own legs off than be right.

“No,” You croak, “No, Steve, you’ve got it all wrong.” You want to reach for him, but it feels like the room is closing in on you. You’re second-guessing everything now - especially what you’ve just said. How many people said the exact same thing to him pre-serum because they said something meant for Bucky to him? How many times did he hear that when he was getting a new diagnosis, hoping for the best? How many times had his own mother said it to him when he told her something someone had said, fresh-faced and not yet used to the way that abled people sometimes treated disabled people? You think you might be sick. “That email was from my professor, Steve. I’m not cheating on you, I’d never.” He laughs darkly and sits back down in his chair, head in his hands again. You try to gather the strength to move toward him when you see his shoulders shaking, a telltale sign that he’s crying.

“A professor,” He says with a watery laugh, “Right.”

Finally, you realize that he needs you, needs to know you love him, that you’d do anything for him. You can iron out the kinks later - figure out why he didn’t want to come to talk to you past the original hurt, why he treated you so coldly, why he didn’t trust that you wouldn’t do this to him - but now, you need to show him that you’re here. That you choose him. That you’ll always choose him.

You make your way to him and set a shaking hand on his shoulder. For a brief second you think he’s going to shake you off but then Steve’s hand shoots up and latches onto where your hand is resting, dipping his head to press against your arm. “Stevie, please,” You say, unsure of what you’re asking him to do, “I picked up a class, just one, and it’s… I picked it up for you, it’s about the ‘30s and ‘40s and…” He looks up at you and he looks so broken - face ruddy and wet with tears, lip wobbling, chest heaving as he tries to not sob. His brows are knit and he looks confused, “I just wanted to be able to understand you better. You had to leave so much of yourself at the door when you joined the Avengers, had to leave so much of yourself in the ice… In Erskine’s lab… Stevie, I just wanted you to be able to be you when you’re with me. I wanted to know the you that you were before you became Captain America.” Your voice is shaking, knees knocking together, and honestly? You feel like you might blackout.

“What?” He rasps, “What?”

“He sent that email because too many kids signed up for his class thinking that they’d be able to look at pictures of you and Buck for a semester. Emailed me directly because he knows we’re…” You choke on your words, shaking your head because you’re not even sure there’s a we anymore, “Because he knows I’m on the team. Didn’t want me walking in and making his class about just a few years in the ‘30s and ‘40s rather than the culture of the time.” You don’t know how else to explain it to him, but Steve isn’t saying anything - practically isn’t moving or breathing- so you continue to try and explain what’s really happening as best as you can, “And - and that email made me so angry because he singled me out, didn’t email anyone else about it, and I left to try and work some of that out; I didn’t want to take it out on you, or let it spoil - let it spoil… But when I came back from the gym, you were gone. You were gone for two weeks and I didn’t know why.” You’re crying harder now and pretty sure that within the next sixty seconds you’re going to collapse if you don’t sit down.

Steve shakes his head, still looking like he doesn’t understand. “What?” He says for a third time, “A class? A college class?”

“I just wanted to feel closer to you,” You confess, “Just wanted to understand a fraction of your life without making you do the heavy liftin’ and teachin’ me. Shouldn’t have’t do that,” You’re sobbing, barely biting out your words as you realize that something you’ve done to strengthen your relationship with Steve has destroyed it, “Shouldn’t have to explain a whole different time just to feel loved, Stevie. Should be able to be with someone who understands without you havin’ to explain.” You’re not sure you can say Peggy’s name out loud, and you hope he understands what you’re saying without making you actually say it, “Should’a been able to have love with someone who knew, and I know I’m nothin’ compared to what you should’a had, but I want to be. I want to be in the same ballpark instead’a watchin’ from the stands.” You wipe your face with your free hand and look away from Steve when he stands in front of you. You don’t want to see the look on his face - what he’s thinking about what you’ve said.

He says your name and you glance at him, but his expression stops him in your tracks. Where Steve looked broken and hurt and fuming with anger to hide the anguish, now he looks stricken. You shake your head, “No, no. I didn’t say that to make you feel guilty-”

“You think that I care about whether or not you can understand the ‘40s?” He cuts you off, hands moving to curl around your biceps, “You think that I care whether or not you can relate to a time in history when you weren’t even thought of?”

“Of course I love you. I love you more than anything in this world, but you shouldn’t have to not care, Steve,” You argue, shaking your head, “That’s what I’m trying to say. You should be with someone who understands without explanation. I just wanted to give that to you - didn’t know that this would happen.”

“I should be with someone who loves me,” He argues back, “If you love me, that’s all that matters. My past be damned.”

“But your past is you!” You try to pull away from Steve, but he anchors you there. You’re dizzy from being so close to him after this long, but also because of how many different twists this situation has taken. You can barely keep up with how bad your communication with Steve has become - barely keep up with how you need to fix it, or how to fix it. “Your past is you,” You repeat when you realize that Steve isn’t going to let you go. “And you shouldn’t have to give that up so that someone will love you.”

“But you love me,” He says desperately, ducking his head so that he’s nearly nose to nose with you, “You love me, right?”

“More than anything,” You say, closing your eyes and relishing in the feeling of being so close to Steve, “I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone. I don’t care about what anyone else thinks, or anyone else. I’ll even stop goin’ to class if you want me to - Steve, I just can’t do this anymore. Can’t do this thing where you don’t talk to me about what’s botherin’ you.” You’re choking up, barely whispering, but you know he hears you. YOu can feel his warm breath on your face, “Nearly fuckin’ killed me.”

“I thought it was goin’ to be easier,” He breathes, nose bumping yours, “When you eventually decided to leave me for him. Thought I was savin’ myself some trouble.” You can practically taste his tears as they fall again, “Buck and Nat tried to tell me that you weren’t - that you wouldn’t - but I just couldn’t believe them.”

When you open your eyes, his are closed. This close to him you can see the soft freckles that are blooming over his eyelids, his soft eyelashes kissing his cheekbones. You can feel him breathing, feel him nearly pressed against you in a way that feels hauntingly nostalgic and terrifyingly fleeting; like you’ll be able to feel his warmth for years to come, but he’s about to disappear. “That’s okay,” You finally whisper, “It’s okay that you didn’t believe them. That you thought what you thought. It’s okay.” He shakes his head against yours, opening his mouth to protest, but you refuse to let him feel guilty about feeling this way - you have plenty of time to sit him down and talk to him candidly about the way he acted because of these feelings, anyway. “If I would have been in your place I’m not sure I would have believed them.”

“I treated you so badly…” He shifts and wraps his arms around you. It’s almost immediate - you relax into his arms and wind yours around his waist, keeping him pulled against you as he presses his face into your neck and you press your cheek against his chest. “So awfully.”

“We’ll talk about that, okay? But later. Right now you just need to know that I love you, Steve. I love you more than I can tell you - more than I can express.” You want to kiss him, but you can’t. Can’t kiss him, you need to wait for him to kiss you, for him to close that gap and show you that he still loves you like you love him. “We’ll have to have a talk, a long and hard conversation about this, Stevie, but for now… For now, I’m just content to be with you, okay? MIssed you so much.”

He sighs, nose pressing against yours again. “Missed you too, dovie. Missed you more than I can even say,” His voice breaks as his lips brush yours. Your relationship is not without its flaws and problems - Steve’s actions when he thought you were cheating on him are proof of that and, well, the fact that you didn’t realize what was happening, why it was happening, or a large part of your boyfriend’s psychological makeup having an impact on your relationship while it went unknown by you… There is a lot of work for the two of you to do, a lot of work to do, a lot of communication to be done… But you’d do it all for Steve, over and over again.

When he presses forward and presses his lips gently to yours, you know that he’ll do it all for you, over and over again, too.

#steve rogers imagine #steve rogers/reader #steve rogers x reader #marvel imagine #mcu imagine

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anime-fan93 · 2 years

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Yo I'm kinda new here but if it's fine and if you have the time may I request an encanto matchup if your still doing it still?

I'm a minor will be 18 in a few years (I hope this is specific enough I'm personally uncomfortable with sharing my exact age)

Honestly if someone actually likes me I'd be in shock- but uh no label nor do I care what gender they are really

He/him or they/them pronouns once again unlabeled

I can get pretty moody without caffeine but I do adore physical affection- also I can get pretty worried or sink back into a shell at certain loud nosies

Cuddles and hugs to the max just yes I would love to pass out cuddling someone-

I barely sleep at night tho-

Uh yea I get scared by certain loud nosies such as yelling may actually cry if someone yells at me in anger as I hate making people upset

I love drawing! And bakeing!

I may melt if someone gives me a pet name but there getting a cheesy one like "darling" or "sweetheart" from me no questions asked

I get pretty defensive if someone tries hurting someone I know mentally or physically I personally think that it's not that much but I find making people smile by my little comments refreshing and fun.

I tend to be pretty awkward but even with me locked up in my room by choice I like talking to people I know though new people make me anxious and being alone in a place without anyone i know is even worse- also the amount of times someone's called me a cat and dog in my friend group is kinda funny-

I'm like 5'2

Look I've manged to trip on my own foot I'm pretty clumsy

Oh yea I'm a Taurus ig

I tried as I ain't to good with trying to describe myself have a good day/night/afternoon and I hope I didn't make ya uncomfortable I'm sorry if I did also please inform me if I did anything wrong with this

-a highly caffinated mushroom

Thank you for requesting!

I match you with...

Camilo!

Camilo would love you so much, but would try not to show it around his family, not wanting them to get loud and possibly scare you.

He would always make sure you had your caffeine, and physical affection, not wanting you to get mad at him, but would lowkey want to see you moody.

Camilo would make like half of the loud noises you don't like on accident, but then realize and apologize non-stop throughout the whole day.

Camilo would love to cuddle with you, whispering how much he loves you while kissing your face and neck. If you couldn't sleep, he would definitely try and stay up with you, but would end up passing tf out.

Camilo would joke being angry and yelling at you once, but as soon as you started to cry he would break character and hug you, doing everything for you for the next two days so you would know he's sorry.

Camilo would definitely bake with you, but would opt out of drawing, wanting to watch you draw instead.

He understands you getting defensive, he would be the same way about you and his family. Someone would say something sideways and he would secretly shapeshift into someone else and get them in trouble.

He would comfort you while you're out in public in a crowd, acting silly to distract you or holding your hand and giving you soft smiles.

He would love you being clumsy, always there to stop something (or you lol) from getting broken. He would love comforting you, wanting you to feel comfortable with him.

Thank you for requesting!

#camilo madrigal #camilo x reader #encanto camilo #encanto matchups #encanto

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female-lord-is-our-wife · 2 years

Text

Since everyone start sharing their LoH OCs so why not mine too?

Under the moonlight sky, she dancing around with smile on her face, forgive about all her burden and pain, living without having purpose, just following the line of her life...,

"The Mysterious Stranger — Shubellian Amethyst."

See the information bellow of your new heroes!

Gender : Nonbinary (prefer female pronouns.)

Age : 22

Sexuality : Bisexual

Race : Human

Birthday Date : 5 May

Zodiac : Taurus

Values : Something that interesting to her

Height : 174 cm

Backstory :

Once worked as a servant of the Gallus Empire, but decided to leave soon after because of Kartis's brother who hated her, who also made her blind, thirsty for revenge Amethyst decided to make a pact with a Devil, trying to get enough power to take revenge on Gallus, which caused her eyes to turn blue, but for the consequences of that agreement, Amethyst had to be prepared to lose all her memories. Even though she had forgotten who she really was, her grudge against Gallus still lingered in her heart.

She was born as a slave, the reason she was able to work as a servant in the Gallus Empire was because someone recommended her to work there, thirsty for money, Amethyst accepted it without a second thought.

After losing her memory, Amethyst didn't know where to go, she had no purpose in life, and so she arrived at Lumisade, living in the shadow of the elven Kingdom, but everything changed when she saw the Monarch of Avillon kill the monster that attacked Lumisade, at that time, Amethyst realized that she had to join Avillon, hoping that Avillon would help her take revenge on Gallus.

Hero Stats :

Element : Dark

Position : Guardian

Star Rating : 4 stars

Recruitment : Ocuppy Lumisade Extreme Mode & 6.000 crystal.

Weapon : Spirit Soul.

Normal Attack "Spirit Madness."

Damage based on her speed, Attack one enemies, 30% chance reduce action gauge.

Lv. 2 : Damage +10%

Lv. 3 : Damage +10%

Lv. 4 : Damage +10%

Lv. 5 : Damage +15%

Lv. 6 : Damage +20%

Active Skill "Devil's Blessing."

Cooldown : 5 turns

50% reduce action gauge, increasing all allies attack for 45% from their original attack for 1 turns, also giving all allies Leech buff for 2 turns, 50% giving all enemies 2 stack of sap for 2 turns.

Lv. 2 : Debuff Rate +9%

Lv. 3 : Debuff Rate +9%

Lv. 4 : Cooldown -1

Lv . 5 : Debuff Rate +10%

Lv. 6. : Cooldown -2

Burst "Tears On The Moonlight."

Spirit cost : 4

May God forgive your sin, but I wont.

Attack all enemies, removing all allies buff, giving all allies invicibilty for 2 turns, reducing all allies action gauge.

Lv. 2 : Damage +10%

Lv. 3 : Damage +10%

Lv. 4 : Spirit cost -1

Lv. 5 : Reduce all allies action gauge.

Lv. 6 : Spirit cost -1

Passive Skill "The Urge for Revenge."

Increased speed by 5.

Lv. 2 : Speed +2

Lv. 3 : Speed +2

Lv. 4 : Speed +3

Lv. 5 : Speed +3

Lv. 6 : Speed +4

Passive Skill "Silent Tears."

Increased attack against Dark Element by 10%

Lv. 2 : 3% extra damage.

Lv. 3 : 3% extra damage.

Lv. 4 : 3% extra damage.

Lv. 5 : 3% extra damage.

Lv. 6 : 4% extra damage.

Assist Mode :

When she need help "A little help, please?"

When she help someone "Two is better than one, right?"

Upon Recruitment :

You will satisfying me right, Monarch of Avillon?

On heroes main menu :

"Laphlaes once told me that Nine love tomato, I trying to give him a bunch of tomato and he went crying, was I doing something wrong? Ugh..."

"Mikhail was a great guy tho, don't tell him I'm saying this but he's kinda hot."

"Yesterday Lyn giving me a pretty necklace, I will treasure that. It was so beautiful."

"Monarch of Avillon, hope you have a great day today. Would you like a cup of tea?"

"I wonder if Rouin had enough sleep, he's kinda remind me of Rashad."

"Lucilicca was so scary when she was mad, she almost kill me because I accidentally throwing my coffee toward her."

"What do I think of Rashad? Pft, he was a great guy honestly, but he lack social skill, poor him. But once you know him, you know that he was a very nice guy."

"Johan said that he love you, don't tell him I telling you this, he would be very mad at me."

"Charlotte is so cute, why would people hate her because she's half elf? I almost fallin love with her cuteness."

"You love when I was smiling? What a sweet of you, Monarch."

Ascencion mode :

1st Ascencion "The Lonely Soul."

"I will trying my best to get stronger."

2nd Ascencion "The Seeker of Justice."

"I will continue to protect you, Monarch of Avillon."

#lord of heroes #lord of heroes oc #loh oc agenda

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peterrparrkerr · 3 years

Text

Trans character - read on ao3

Okay so this was somewhat depressing to write because its so fresh. I kind of took my own coming out story to my mom and copy and pasted it with Tony and Peter. (What aunt May tells Peter is almost word for word for what my mom told me) it was kind of therapeutic to write honestly, but anyway here you guys go!

I wrote this in Tony's POV instead of Peter's because I wanted to write the switch. You know, where Tony no longer thinks of Peter as a he, but as a they. I really liked how it came out.

Also if anyone comes at me saying non-binary isn't transgender I will throw hands.

*-*

Its hard to say what exactly is wrong with Peter when he first walks into the lab after a long holiday weekend.

He smiles the same, walks the same, even makes the same quips and terrible jokes. But there's something off about him that has Tony glancing at him a little longer than necessary when the teenager isn't looking.

"You alright, kid?" He had asked, casually when the silence between jokes grew a little too expansive.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, I'm fine," Peter had responded, waving a hand in Tony's general direction before getting back to work.

Tony hadnt pressed the issue. He must be tired. He doesn't press for the whole afternoon he's with Peter.

But he comes back with that same offness to him the next day, holding the strap of his bag the same as he's done before.

It takes Tony half the day to figure out what's wrong -well, not whats wrong, but that he's upset. Trying desperately to hide it.

"Lets take a break," Tony said, setting his tools down. Peter's head snaps up to meet his eyes, his own wide with surprise. Tony never offers to take a break when in the lab.

"Uh, are-are you sure?" Peter asked, hesitantly setting his own tools down. "I'm not finished-"

"We'll get back to it, I'm hungry."

So Peter follows him up the stairs and into the kitchen. He sits on a stool at the island while Tony putters around the kitchen, getting stuff around for sandwiches.

Tony pretends to put all his attention on making sandwiches, but he sneaks glances at Peter, noting his somewhat drooping shoulders.

He picks at the counter top with a slight frown. He's chewing on the inside of his cheek.

Tony finishes the sandwiches and claps once, jolting the kid. "Done!" He says, watching as Peter immediately changes his features.

The smile is back, wide as ever, eyes glittering and shoulders raising.

"What kind of chips do you want?" Tony asks, instead of asking what he really wants to.

"Uh, plain is fine," Peter said, still scratching his forefinger against the granite.

They both sit across from each other at the island, eating silently. Tony waits until Peter's got most of his food eaten before he decides to start pressing.

"Whats got you down?"

Peter blinks at him, caught off guard. "Huh?"

"You've been off for the last two days. I can tell you're upset about something."

"You can tell?" Peter asked, sounding even more upset. Tony sighs, shoving his empty plate to the side so he can fold his arms on the counter, leaning forward a little.

"I may come across as uncaring at times, or oblivious," he confesses. "But I notice when it counts. And something is bothering you."

And just like that, Peter's walls crumble. Its depressing, honestly, that all it takes is someone taking notice for Peter to break.

"I came out to my aunt this weekend," he said, looking down at his finger, still picking away at Tony's kitchen counter.

"It didn't go well, I take it," Tony sighed. Peter instantly looked up, eyes wide.

"No, no i-it went good," Peter said, shaking his head.

"Then why are you so upset?"

Peter's shoulders sag once again, and he slouches closer to the counter.

"I don't know," he confessed sullenly.

"Is she not supportive of you being gay?"

"Uh, I didn't come out to her as gay," Peter corrected. "I mean, I don't know if I'm gay or not. I'm still- still trying to figure it out."

"Thats alright," Tony said. "Its okay not to know right away."

Peter gives him a small smile.

"But you gotta give me something, kid. Tell me what happened."

Peter lets out a long sigh. One Tony's made many times before.

"I came out as non-binary," Peter said, eyes never leaving the counter. "I've already come out to my friends, and they support me, but, uh, I didn't like lying to Aunt May. I already have to hide the fact that I'm spiderman, I didn't want to hide anything else from her."

Tony stays quiet, nodding along. Peter's gotta tell him more, and Tony doesn't want to ask a question and drop the ball.

"She- she wasn't upset when I told her," Peter continued. "She said she'd always love me, which-which was what I needed to hear," Peter continued. "I thought she'd kick me out or send me to some conversion camp, or just- I don't know, tell me I was wrong."

"But she didn't," Tony said. Peter shook his head, seeming to slouch even closer to the counter.

"No," Peter said softly. "She- she said she wasn't mad, and that what I was feeling was okay, but. But she said she wasn't going to use my pronouns, and that she was going to continue calling me her nephew -which is fine, there's not really a gender neutral term for it- but she- she just, doesn't want to switch how she thinks of me, and- and that kind of sucks."

"That does. I'm sorry, kid," Tony sighed. There's a moment of silence shared between them while Tony processes a little. "What pronouns are you using?"

Peter glances up at him. "Uh, they/them," he said. "But, uh, you don't have to, you know. Use them," he added lamely.

Tony shakes his head. "They're your pronouns, Peter. Of course I'll use them."

Tony watches as Peter blushes, dropping their eyes to the counter once more.

"Do you have a preferred name?" Tony asked again.

"Uh, no not really," Peter shrugged, looking up again. "I like Peter."

Tony nods, smiling at them encouragingly. "If you ever decide your birth name doesn't fit you, I'll call you whatever you want."

Tony must say the right thing because Peter lights up like a Christmas tree. They climb off the stool and rushes around the island.

Tony turns in his chair just in time for the teenager to crash into him, hugging him tight.

"I'm sorry about your aunt, kiddo," Tony sighs against the top of Peter's head.

"Its okay," they said, voice muffled in Tony's shirt. "She was just- raised differently."

Tony shook his head, tightening his hold on Peter. "Its not okay, Pete. We were born in the same generation. Its not about being raised a certain way, its about her mindset."

Peter pulls back a little, looking up at Tony. "I just- I'm okay with her just knowing," they said softly. "It made me feel better to tell her, but- but I respect her enough not to- not to force her to use my pronouns. Its just- I can compromise."

That gets Tony really scowling.

"Kid," he sighed. "Listen, respect is a two way street, and thats not respect. She should have respect for you enough to accept you."

"She does," Peter said, eyes widening.

"She doesn't," Tony countered. "If she accepted you, she'd use your pronouns no problem. She may still love you, and she probably won't think of you any differently, but refusing to use your preferred pronouns is disrespectful."

Peter looks torn, and Tony smooths his features, trying not to show his anger towards Peter's aunt.

He pulls Peter back into his chest, and they go willingly, tucking their head under Tony's chin.

"I'm sorry about your aunt," Tony repeated, holding the teenager tight.

This time, Peter only nods, hugging Tony back just as tightly.

The rest of the week, Tony notices Peter's mood changing. Its a slow change, starting out with disappointment, and working its way to acceptance.

They're still not happy about coming out to their aunt, but Tony thinks talking with them seemed to help a lot.

Peter decides to turn their focus on other things. On his friends, on the avengers, on Tony and the project they're working on together.

It doesn't make the problem with their aunt go away, but it helps. Tony knows when they're old enough to move out, life will be much easier on them. They'll be able to express themselves completely in their own home -not just with their friends.

But until then, Tony thinks Peter's okay with the slight crack in the foundation of their relationship.

All Tony can do is be there for the kid, let them rant about their feelings and offer a room for them when they need time away. He wishes things were different for Peter, but they've both accepted that its not.

#marvel #tony stark #peter parker #starker #ironman #spiderman #my writing #ao3 #sfsummerbingo21 #coming out

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uta-no-sin-sama · 2 years

Note

HEAVENS reacting to their s/o coming out the closet??(revealing sexuality or preferred pronouns basically)

Before I begin this request, I'd just like to say that I think that all the boys - not just HEAVENS - along with Haruka and Tomochika would be allies if not LGBTQ+ themselves. It might take some of them some time to initially remember their S/O's sexuality or pronouns, but I don't think any of them would love their S/O any less simply because of things they have no control over such as sexual orientation or gender identity.

Anyway, on with the request! Thank you for the request!

Content warning: mentions of homophobia and transphobia, but none of the characters are saying or doing these things

----------

Yamato Hyuga -

- Only one thought runs through this man's mind when you ask to speak with him in private: who do I need to... teach a lesson to this time?

- Your very apparent anxiety over whatever it was you needed to tell him certainly didn't help that thought go away.

- The moment you take a deep breath and come out was the moment that thought vanished.

- In fact, there wasn't a single thought behind Yamato's eyes for a few moments after you came out. Not because he was upset about the whole situation, but because he didn't know what to say in response to being trusted enough by you to warrant you coming out to him.

- "(S/O), I - um... Thank you for telling me. No, I'm not mad! I'm just... I'm so happy that you trust me enough with this information."

- Once he gets over the shock of realizing how much you trust him, he offers to attend Pride with you and asks Shion to help him make you a pride flag for your sexual orientation and/or gender identity.

Eiji Otori -

- His mind starts racing once you ask him to talk alone for a moment. He can't help but wonder what you need to talk with him about.

- Did he do something wrong? Did anyone else in HEAVENS make you uncomfortable? Is someone hurting you? Are you leaving him?

- When he learns that, no, you were just coming out to him, an instant wave of relief washes over him.

- "I thought you were going to say something bad for a minute, there! You had me pretty worried - huh? Oh, right, that. Of course I support you!"

- If you don't already have a pride flag for your sexual orientation and/or gender identity, you bet he's going to buy you one.

- He makes sure that the guest room in HEAVENS' house is always available for you in the case you need to escape from homophobic or transphobic family members.

- All in all, he's very supportive and makes sure to keep you safe if need be so you can be your true self.

Shion Amakusa -

- Like Eiji, Shion’s mind would also be racing when you first ask him to talk with you alone for a moment. He doesn’t like being kept wondering.

- Once you come out to him, though, he’s relieved that it wasn’t because he said or did anything to hurt you.

- “Oh, was that it? You had Amakusa worried for a moment, but after hearing that you’re closer to finally being your true self, Amakusa is feeling better now.”

- I have this little headcanon that Shion likes to knit, so I think he’d try to make you a pride flag if you didn’t already have one.

- He’s also one to make sure that the guest room in the HEAVENS house is open for you should you have any homophobic or transphobic family members.

- He’ll definitely keep reassuring you that he loves you for you, even if it’s a more indirect way of letting you know that fact.

Van Kiryuin -

- This man radiates so much bi/pan energy, it’s not even funny at this point.

- There’s a good chance that he already had an inkling that you were LGBTQ+, since he has a pretty decent gaydar.

- He’ll pretend that he had no idea when you finally come out to him, but he’s internally shouting “I knew it!” at the top of his lungs.

- “That’s so cool! Thanks for telling me this, (N/N)- wait, I can still call you (N/N), right?”

- It might take him a bit of time to fully remember your pronouns depending how soon in your relationship with him you decide to come out, but he always catches himself when he accidentally uses the wrong pronouns and makes sure to apologize before correcting himself.

- With your permission, he’ll plan a coming out party for you to celebrate you coming out where he’ll give you a pride flag for your sexual orientation/gender identity if you don’t already have one.

Eiichi Otori -

- He might not worry as much as his brother would, but he'd still be concerned about what you could possibly need to tell him.

- Oh, you're coming out to him? iiiii~ He's very grateful that you trust him enough to feel safe in doing so.

- "I see.... Thank you so much for trusting me with this information, my angel. Hm? You thought I'd leave you? (S/O), it's going to take a lot more than that to get rid of me."

- Expect to find a post on HEAVENS' main blog within the next 24 hours about how all of HEAVENS supports the LGBTQ+ community.

- He'll insist it's to let the Angels all know that they have HEAVENS' support should they be a part of the LGBTQ+ community, which is true, but it's mainly to reassure you that he still loves you for you.

- With your permission, he'll also make a post on his own account bragging about how brave and amazing you are for feeling comfortable enough to come out to him.

Nagi Mikado -

- *insert that one vine where someone comes out as a lesbian to their brother*

- “I thought you were American”

- Okay, but in all seriousness, he could tell how nervous you were when you first came out to him, so he’d try to crack a few jokes to lighten the mood a bit.

- He's too much of a cocky little shit to admit it, but he was actually worried about what you were going to tell him before you came out to him.

- Like Van, there's a decent chance Nagi already suspected you were part of the LGBTQ+ community but was just waiting for you to confirm his suspicion.

- "I knew it! I was wondering when you were finally gonna tell me! After all, there's no keeping secrets from the universally-cute Nagi for very long~ Huh? Of course I support you! Homophobia isn't cute at all, so why would I be homophobic?"

- Nagi, like Yamato, would be one to attend Pride with you. He’d also keep his eye out for any pride merch related to your particular sexual orientation and/or gender identity to give to you.

Kira Sumeragi -

- As proven in much of the canon material, Kira is very observant, so chances are good that he already knew that at the very least you were trying to hide something from him.

- He won’t try to pry any information out of you, but he does notice when you drop hints of the possibility of you being LGBTQ+, mainly if you get more interested in attending Pride when that interest was either non-existent or toned down before.

- Once you do come out to him, he’s the least surprised out of all the other HEAVENS members. He, unlike Van, won’t try to act surprised either.

- “I was wondering... when you were... going to... tell me. Thank you... for trusting me enough... with this information.”

- Though his words might sound a bit blunt or harsh, he’ll make it up to you hand-making pride-themed ceramics pieces to give to you, baking a cake in the colors of your pride flag(s), or other gestures like that.

--------

This was one of the three requests that have been in my ask box for who knows how long now, and I’m happy that I finally got around to it. So sorry that it took me a while to do it, but I hope it was worth the wait. One scenario request down, two more and my first ever matchup request to go!

Up next, either another scenario request or the matchup request.

#shion-kusa #request #uta no prince sama #utapri #utapri heavens #yamato hyuga #eiji otori #shion amakusa #van kiryuin #eiichi otori #nagi mikado #kira sumeragi #this has been in my drafts for months now #oops

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virtual-luvr · 4 years

Text

˗ˏˋMary, Midari, and Runa with an s/o who is a ghostˎˊ˗

Pronouns: gender neutral; they/them

Warnings: cussing. mentions of death, murder, suicide and a g>n-

Note: request by @massivewolfpandaknight thank you so much i love writing for kakegurui especially these girls!! Also marys is longer then all the other ones sorry😔 i tried to have more fun with this request too so i hope its still good :(

-----------

Mary Saotome

First off, you met because of Yumeko

She was dragging you all over the school and at one point it was pissing you off so much you just decided to work your ~ghostly~ magic and get out of her grip

As shes lecturing you on acting normal, you're just staring at her with a black expression

"I dont see the problem"

"The problem is that we dont want everyone knowing your DEAD" she says ending her sentence with a sinister smile

It lowkey creeped you out

So you let out a sigh and give her a, "fine but dont drag me around like you did at our old school"

You actually died at the old school you used to go but you didn't have to stick at the school, you could go where ever

There weren't any boundaries lets say

So when Yumeko moved schools she dragged you with her and here you were now, pretending like you were still alive and not dead at all~

While you both were in deep conversation Mary came barging in asking "who in the hell is this bitch"

Sighing at her rude attitude you flick her forehead, your cold finger almost giving her a brain freeze and she stood in shock for a second.

"Who do you think you are" she says crossing her arms

What were you supposed to say to that, "a ghost???"

You mimic her actions and words in a high pitch voice

Yeah your relationship didn't start on the right foot

But hey after that whole meeting, you and Mary spent quite a long time together

Even though you fought a few times since her ego was so massive at the start of your relationship

But after a while she started opening up to you more and being nicer

Even going as far to be more affectionate to you and Yumeko noticed fast

Seeing as you were, very, oblivious

And didn't think anybody wanted to date you because you're a ghost, you thought nothing over her new actions towards you

At one point Yumeko just grabs you, brings you into a room, and tells you the truth

"Mary likes you, are you stupid? Oblivious or something? Go get her"

And as soon as you were in the room, you were out

As you stumbled out the door, Yumeko walking out calmly after you, Mary finds you

She looks between you and Yumeko, rasing her brow

Before leaving Yumeko says "no, nothing happened" winking at Mary and running away

You're still lowkey shocked at what Yumeko said

If you were alive, you'd probobly be blushing right now

"Heyyy Mary"

"What was that all about?" She asks, her cheeks puffed up a tiny bit

"Oh, it was nothing we were just talking"

"Didn't seem like just talking.." She mutters under her breath but you caught it

"Are you jealous??" You snicker out, getting closer to Mary step by step

As you walk closer and closer you basically have her pinned to the wall, blushing she just looks away from you

You smirk and give her a cheek a peck

She looks back with a shocked look on her face before giving you a smirk too

"Idiot, you missed"

Y'all kiss after that-

Honestly, she really doesent care that you're, dead-

She really likes when you pat her head or scratch her scalp since your fingers are cold

Flicking her forehead actually became a habit too-

You also have scheduled gambles and she gets mad at you if you say no sometimes

Midari Ikishima

To be honest, at first you wanted nothing to do with Midari

But she just kept on talking to you and annoying you

And even though the memory is blurry and hazy somewhere in between begging you to gamble with her and her being by your side twenty four seven

You started to get less annoyed by her

In the midst of starting a friendship with that girl you told her you were actually

And when you saw that glint in her eyes you got w o r r i e d

She almost tried to commit not alive on the spot

You screamed

Your reflexes were good enough and you took the g>n out of her hands

You tried to push her away but she fell on top of you in the process

Knowing her you knew she was going to say something that will not do good for you

So you panic and accidently go through the floor

You can hear her hit the floor even through the thick floor, it made you laugh but you wont tell her that

When you go back into the room shes actually knocked out

Did she really hit the floor that hard-

Either way you grab her unconscious body and take care of her until shes back on her feet

For once in your (after) "life" you see Midari calm

It was a very weird sight

She made you gamble with her once too

Never again.

You somehow one and she got too excited waiting for whatever punishment was going to happen next, she was on top of you at one point

You've also caught her in...compromising positions and you've ran out of that situation as fast as you could

She dreams of the day she can actually get you alone without you running away

It happened once, and that was the day you guys actually got together

She cornered you and you forgot all about your ghostly abilities for once

She pushes up to you and puts her face right in front of your face

"Why do you panic so much"

..what in the hell-

Since she's only met with your silence and your eyes aren't even meeting hers she gets a little impatient

She bonks you on the head with her g>n, not very lightly may i add

And as you open your mouth to protest she takes this opportunity to kiss you. After all shes been crushing on you for so long, not like you noticed though

You thought she chased everyone around

Im not going to act like the kiss went too smoothly, your teeth crashed with hers before you pulled away to give her an actual kiss

You grab her chin and give her a proper kiss this time, her g>n making a soft thud when it fell on the ground but you didn't pay much mind to it

After that she tries to kiss you as much as possible, sometimes more then kissing even when there are people around

Shes like one of those kids you have to put the animal backpack leashes, yeah you always need to check up on her before she does a disaster

When you joke about it she doesn't take it as a joke

So next time you see her at school with a leash in her hands you run away immediately

Runa Yomozuki

You guys met when she caught you trying to watch a gambling fight and didn't recognize you as a student there.

You guys met eyes and you just sat there like, "...hi :D"

She immediately starts questioning you, lollipop still in her mouth and you could barely understand half of the words she was saying-

When she notices you don't even care and you're just staring at the candy in her mouth she sighs and grabs another lollipop from her pockets

She hears you softly mutter, "i haven't had these in ages", shes a little confused

You just look up innocently and say, "oh im dead", when she gives you a questioning gaze

You're surprised when she doesn't start doubting your words-

She just goes "oh, makes sense" and walks away

You just sit there like, ?????

Also you might not have any taste buds

But you're still addicted to those lollipops

Anyways after that you make it your goal to annoy her as much as possible

And you do

For a few months actually

She usually shuts you up with a lollipop sometimes you annoy her by making the lollipop pass right through you

At one point she takes on a different method to shut you up and kisses your cheek, you sat there for a second and malfunctioned

She giggles at your reaction and does it a lot more

Doesent matter how many times she does it, you never get used to it

Your relationship kind of just blossomed

You guys didn't even notice any of it until one day you were staring at each other and kissed and you both just went "okay well we're dating now"

Everyone else barely knew about you so when they see Rona and you just kissing they're so confused

Rona doesn't even explain and you don't bother too either

She finds it funny

She giggles a little when you give her kisses since your lips are just as cold as you are

She now has to get even more candy since you both are obsessed and you steal her candy from her too

You pay back in kisses though

She likes it that way😌

She also likes to join you in scaring the students of the school

You guys do it in various ways but there are some that you like more

For example, sometimes she starts talking to someone and youll randomly appear right behind her and somehow that scares some of the students to death

Another one of your favorites is hiding behind a corner together and just waiting for people nearby and then yelling in their faces

Usually she goes first and after the person has calmed down you chime in and yell in their face too

[1699 words; aug/10/2020]

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queer-as-frikc · 3 years

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My coming out story is weird, it gets a lil transphobic so tw near the end tw long post too

So, pretty much throughout my time growing up through elementary school and half of middle school, i grew up in a white middle class area. I didnt know about the LGBTQ+ or anything other than what I saw, which was white people and an occasional poc. Eventually I had to move and I ended up in a super diverse area, and ended up becoming best friends with this person (they are ftm now so imma use the right pronouns but they were f when this story mostly takes place) he told me all about things I didnt know, specifically the LGBTQ+ community and that he was pan, and it was new information so just like any 13 year old learning new things, I questioned myself, I questioned if I could like the same sex or not or possibly more.

Sadly, drama happened between my best friend, his girlfriend and I, so thing got a little weird. But there was a time in winter, when he was off that relationship for more than a month and he said he'd like to date me, and I really thought about it before hand and said yeah, I couldnt tell you how happy I was to have this experience.

I told my mom that night, in a round about way cuz I was nervous, "Hey mom, what if I liked girls?" She told me she doesnt think that I do, because I always expressed feelings for guys, and when I tell her I didnt really understand what being gay was when I was younger, I didn't really know it was a possibility. She snapped at me and said, "Unless you are willing to kiss a girl and do the other stuff, you arent gay at all."

Eventually I have a sit down conversation with her, about how confusing this all was and how I wish I knew how I felt, and so on. She said she had a similar questioning phase but it never stuck so she doesnt think I am.

Like a month later I figure it out and dude that was so gratifying. I came out as bi to my mom, who just dismissed the whole thing, but I was terrified to tell my uncle (it's a long story about that, no it's not "sweet home Alabama") because he always said bi's were wh*res so yeah. I ended up telling him, and he goes, "You know my opinion on it but that doesnt mean that I'll disown you or anything." Btw the relationship (dating wise) with my best friend after he came out as ftm because he went back to his ex, it's all cool tho.

So that was that, or so I thought. It was my first year of high school, and I finally really understood the definition of pan, what was holding me back though was the trans experience, I thought because I didnt know what it was like, I couldnt be pan, even though I didnt have a preference, turns out it just means you like people no matter their gender and it like, clicked finally so yeah. I've told my family about that since but I a similar reaction: my mom said she doesnt think I am and she lectured me on my generation having so many labels and how she hated it. My uncle said he appreciated that I was pan more than me being bi which confused me but he just had a better view of pansexual than bisexual. (I explained to both of them what the difference was but idk man)

I believe it was my second year of high school when I really started to question my gender, and that was mostly because I saw a video of what gender dysphoria looks like if it's not that strong and you arent aware for ftm. So like wearing bagging clothes all the time, always wearing sports bras, and practically no other bra, feeling really good if someone accidentally calls you sir, etc. And I was like, oml it's me. But it wasnt, I didnt find that out until later tho. So, with my friend group, I find a name that seems to fit me well and ask them to address me by it and he/him pronouns, as like a test of sorts. (All of my friends are gay in some way so it was cool) In the end tho, I got a little iffy about the whole thing and wouldnt ever correct them at times or it was just off for me. I felt really bad because I thought that they might have thought that I was just trying to force myself to be more like them, but I wasnt, i still felt bad though and kinda dropped it.

I'm not sure 100% how I figured it out tho, but I remember talking to my best friend (not the same one from middle school, they were my best friend as well but they arent the same person) about the whole experience and I believe they brought up the idea of genderfulid, and I was like :0.... what that. They explain it, you go aall over the gender spectrum, some days you might feel like a boy, others you might feel like you have no gender, some days you might feel like your gender is something completely weird and different, that's just what it is. And I was like, "It fits but like, I barely feel femme at any point in time, maybe like once a year." And they tell me, that's ok and stuff as long as my gender just decides to be a completely weird and went all over the place, it counted, so I was like, "I finally figured it out!!!" And i was so happy.

Then came the time I was comfortable enough to tell my parents. I had been using the label genderfuild for over half a year already and I thought that it was what I was so it was ok to tell them. I saw how ok me being gay went, so I was nervous but not as nervous as I should have been, probably. I told my mom first, she went on a similar rant of her no liking my generations labels and such, but it went fine, I explained it, I thought I was through, I thought I was fine, apparently not. One day I'm in the shower and I hear my mom being very expressive with what ever shes talking about to my uncle, which is fine, she needs someone to vent to sometimes. When I get out though, and I can here her clearly, I hear sees complaining about what I told her recently, that I'm genderfulid, but instead of saying that, she only says I want to be a boy. (Oh no) So shes complaining to him, asking why I cant be more like her and just be a masculine girl and be fine, why do I have to fit in with the crowd of my generation to feel special, why cant I just be fine with who I am now? Etc.

The sad thing is, that night, I was going out shopping for pants and underwear with my uncle because I needed some and I wore men's pants already at that point, because they are more durable, and stuff so I knew it was gonna be a long ride. My mom was snippy with me that whole night, just the entire time which sucked.

When we finally left to go get clothes though, I didnt know it could get worse. My uncle lectured me about how that's just my generations fad, and how his was making tattoos and piercings ok in the work place and mine is being trans a gay and all that crap, and that I'm just trying to fit in, I'm not being myself, no matter how much I chop myself up and cut my hair and take hormones my chromosomes will never change and so I can never be an actual guy. He also said that I would bring just more attention to myself being a woman who does guy things rather than try and be one, and he thinks I'm doing this all for attention. I was mad but silent at this point, I didnt want to cause anything to happen. He ended up asking me, "So did you pick a different name?" I was surprised but I said yeah, and my friends were using it and it seemed to fit better. He asked me what it was and fear over took my body. I told him, "I'll only tell you if you dont use it against me if your mad." He says, "i cant promise that." And then gets mad because I wont tell him. Though I do, because I feel obligated since hes buying me clothes. To be even more confusing, he buys me guys underwear, and undershirts along with the predetermined pants he promised me and now I'm so confused.

But it gets even worse. When we get home, my mom freaks out on him because be bought me all that mens stuff and she said he was encouraging my behavior and stuff, he defended with it's just clothes, and yah it is. Eventually things settle down, obviously my mom isnt talking to be, but that's for the best at this point. I'm in the living room with my uncle and he just then starts harassing me with questions like, how do you know? he asks. "Well, I just feel that way, same as you." I say. But why do you wanna be a guy? he asks. "I dont wanna be a guy, it's just weird that way. Also it's not me being a guy, it me being many more than that," I say. He says that's bullsh*t. I offer to show him videos that better explain what trans is and how it's an actual sciencey thing and stuff but he said he wont take a video because he wants me to say it. And then he just goes off, saying the name I picked out shows how self centered I am because I am selfish, he kept asking me if i liked to fight, to catch and play with bugs, to be strong, to be angry all the time, and all these stereotypes for men and I just left, and went to bed. He wasnt going to listen to me, so there wasnt a point to me staying.

But, it gets worse. The morning comes and I'm awoken by the slam of my door by my uncle and the laughter of my mom. My uncle starts being really aggressive and starts cleaning my room, I only have clothes on the floor mostly so that's all it was, but he starts saying, well if you're gonna be a man, imma start training you like one, the man of the house picks up after everyone, the man of the house does everything he can to help the house run smoothly, the man of the house has to be strong, and all that stuff. (Which I thought was funny because he was "the man of the house" yet I did everything, and still do. I clean up most after him, funny huh.) And, I know what's happening and so I stay in bed, I don't want this to happen. But I literally get ripped out of my bed by my uncle and get told to stop being a little b*tch and a brat because I'm being selfish by my mom and I'm yelled at to sit in the living room and wait while my uncle cleans my room. When hes done hes starts lecturing me and being all aggressive and in my face. He keeps asking me a million questions with the tone that he didnt care so I knew he wouldn't listen. Eventually, him and my mom leave, I'm told to stay there until I get back. When they do get back, they act like everything is fine, nothing happened between them and I and it's just been so hard for me to talk to them about that since.

I'm greatful that I dont have to deal with that anymore but every time something that that is brought up with my family, I panic so much now. I'm fine and I'm safe but it was very traumatic for me. And uh, thanks for listening.

hey, thank you so much for sharing your story. this was just. so heartbreaking. noone deserves to have a person like your uncle in their life. im so sorry you had to go through all of that. i hope you’re in a much better place now <3 (also i loveeddd reading about how you figured it out) =)

again, tysm <3

#transphobia #transphobia tw #biphobia tw #abuse tw

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lovely-renard · 2 years

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1st!! congrats on hitting 300 <3 I always enjoy reading your works and you always do so good on them :)

here's the info!! / psst my mbti is istp. my pronouns r she/they. I would like a haikyuu matchup- any gender is fine!

in general I am a pretty cheerful and friendly person. I am a huge introvert in-public, I get anxiety ( I start stuttering,sweating and breathing fast) it's worse when I have to speak to people, So I usually tap my fingers to calm down. I'm pretty socially awkward, I can't really start a conversation with just anyone and I just sit there and stare or figure out something . Though when you get to know me, I am really talkative and goofy. I love cracking jokes and having a overall good time. I can be a very big clutz, I either hit my head on stuff or trip over something (mostly the air). around my friends, I am the therapist/mom/fun friend! usually people come and ask me for advice or vent. I like cracking flirty jokes with my friends, and I sound like a pervert sometimes >_< . I also am kind of boy-crazy? like I see a cute boy and I start freaking out- I'm just gushing about them, same thing with females- I am just a big simp though,I GET VERY EMBARASSED easily and flustered, I'm also kind of reckless? I don't think anything through until midway and if i feel like doing something, I'm gonna do it- and suffer the consequences after ( I walked outside during a rainstorm/thunder storm and started dancing in the rain- I later got sick.) I would say my bad traits are that I am blunt. I can be really truthful and hurtful in what I say (depending on who I talk to). I get angry too easily sometimes, I don't lash out or anything, I just shut down and kick around things (if it's at someone- I glare at them), this also makes me kind of mean, like i start insulting . not vocal whatsoever in how i feel, my emotions r like not going in the open. I say uncanny things sometime, like randomly- I don't know why? I just say weird things to get a reaction out of someone ( I randomly asked my sister what it's like to get knocked out by a stalker. yeah.) eerr i can't take a joke, depending on how it sounds. If it's like, "your dumb y'know?" with a certain tone, then I start getting mad and talking back. I'm pretty dense at somethings- it's hard for me to catch on irl.

my fav song/series/style - my fav song rn is cotiles - ENA REMIX. my fav series is moriarty the patriot and my style is mainly black clothing/grunge or alt (tho I just wear oversized hoodies + leggings )

hobbies/interest - anime/manga,thrifting,writing/reading,true crime,music,fashion/makeup, I've been meaning to pick up photography again, piano,video games,singing and dancing! (in private bc I'm shy </3)

I match you with... Yaku Morisuke ♡

Your relationship song : HIP (MAMAMOO)

“That’s the worst idea you could ever had.

- But that’s what makes it funny!”

Honestly, you know your boyfriend is right: trying to do a whole spin while flipping crepes wasn’t smart nor useful. Why are you trying it tho? For entertainment purpose. After all, it’s gloomy outside and the only way to light up the mood, according to you, are to make crepe and have fun during the process. That’s where your little challenge came from.

You pour a good spoon of batter in the pan, smearing it across the whole surface. When bubbles start to form, you prepare yourself, shaking lightly your wrist to get in the move. While you’re waiting for the perfect moment, Yaku eyes you, arms crossed on his chest, disappointment but also worry painted across his face. Once the bubbles are popping, you give a vigorous shake to the pan, effectively flipping the crepe and you start spinning.

OK, maybe you went overboard with it and spined way too fast, ending in you loosing your balance and falling on your butt. And OK, maybe you should have seen it coming but honestly, is it that bad if, in the end, the crepe miraculously land on the pan again.

“ I did it! you cheer loudly before wincing.

- Are you alright?” Says Yaku who’s already kneeling beside you, taking the pan from your hand, putting it back on the stove and checking you for any injury.

Of course, your achievement couldn’t be perfect, you had to injure yourself in the process. Your left hand is bright red, probably because, when you fell, the burning pan came in contact with your skin. It hurts a bit but you’re quick to reassure your boyfriend everything will be fine quickly. He stills stands up, sighs, and brings you to the sink, putting your hand under the cold water.

“I can’t believe you made it but found a way to fail at the same time…

- Hey, I did NOT fail, it was just a contest of circumstances!

- Right… Please be careful next time.” he concludes, kissing your forehead gently.

You ended up doing it again, under the eyes of your pleasantly surprised boyfriend who really thought it was luck the first time.

#the fact that you like moriarty the patriot ughhh 😩#hope you like your match-up!! :)#love is in the air event #from : marii-e

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antiterf · 7 years

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I don't understand why dysphoric men get so mad at TERFs, when all they do by excluding them is being rational and think logically. Transphobic TERFs may be a thing, but even then their disgust has nothing to do with the Radical Feminist mindset. (and it wouldn't surprise me if the whole "TERF=transphobe" thing was made up by a triggered transexual in the first place...)

I’ve been meaning to answer this ask for ages, but I typed like two paragraphs before and my mouse flipped out at the worse possible timing and deleted it all. First I want to say that radical feminism was never originally trans exclusive, so you’re right, it has nothing to do with the Radical Feminist mindset.

I’m not a trans woman, so I can’t give you all the reasons. I’m going to try to make a list, and if any trans women want to add onto it that’d be awesome.

You refuse to even address them as trans women. Apparently even that’s too much.

A lot of you shits use the T-slur and say it’s okay because apparently it’s a slur against your male oppressors.

You can’t respect basic pronouns.

You try to make it harder for name and gender changes.

You call them mutilated freaks.

You call them misogynistic just for fucking existing.

A lot of you want to make transition, the only proven way to help with dysphoria, harder.

You call them deluded when doctors won’t even let you fucking transition if you’re actually deluded.

Janice Raymond literally wrote about having trans people as a whole saying that they have to be “mandated out of existence.”

Someone doxxed a afab lesbian on this fucking site thinking that they were a trans woman. I want that to fucking sink in for ya. Then they joked about the person being sent to conversion therapy.

You’d rather see a trans woman told that they’re perfect just the way they are than actually help them with dysphoria.

You want them to be in male only spaces when there was literally a trans woman that was raped about 2,000 fucking times in an all male prison

It’s hard to tell you guys from conservatives when talking about trans people in general so that should say a lot.

You demonize them so much that I’ve had many tell me that they feel like monsters. I can’t really blame them, I’d start feeling that way too.

Heaven forbid if they actually stand up for themselves. Whenever they do it seems all of you jump on it at once.

Most of you call all of them rapists without a second thought.

“Drop the T”

They’re demons for being feminine and demons for being masculine

You constantly talk about them in a sexual way which is probably really bad for dysphoria.

In a sexual way especially thinking that the second a trans woman says “listen to trans women” you think it’s about wanting to have sex with you. Calm down Henry you’re not that attractive.

You think all of them are lesbians. Just. All of them. Or at least act like it.

I’ve seen multiple terfs call trans women disgusting.

A lot of you are plain transphobic. I say a lot of you because no one ever stops them and it spreads like a virus.

You guys actually joke about trans suicide sometimes?

I’ve definitely seen suicide baits to trans men and such I wouldn’t be surprised if trans women got them too.

I know I said that you assume that all of them are lesbians, but they don’t have control over dysphoria so much as their sexuality.

You tell them that they’re weak for feeling like shit over almost everything I listed above. You then tell them that they’re irrational and need serious help.

Also “made up by a triggered transsexual” my ass crack.

#long post #rape mention #whatsintheinbox #not sarcasm #notaterftip #if anyone wants to add on but be anonymous just pm me or send an ask

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