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taldigi · 7 months

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If Sabrina does get added to fashion club, I'm curious to see where she falls on hero-villain spectrum. Personally, I could see two options for her. First is she's like Claude, still "evil" (though she more so just a bitch) but the whole ending the world and nullification/ erasing all emotion thing is way too far for (especially when she see what it did to Amber). The second idea is that she's like Orochi in Fav & Mad, someone to pure acts on her whims and desires and it's those whims and desires that dictate in what circumstances she's either a ally or foe to the heroes.

So, we have two designs for "precanon sabrina."

We have "Sabrina Ratif" The bible describes her as a "rule stickler" and she seems to have access to a "class call" notebook. She definitely has a "teacher's pet" energy about her. She is also described as a chatterbox- talking nonsense in order to seem interesting- and can even lie to inflate her sense of importance... turning lying into an art.

sounds a bit familiar, hm?

and we also have this design. Which still seems to lean into her "class president" or "uncool nerd girl"

wait hold on this is official documentation how did that slip through... i'm going to assume that was a translation error...

I'm assuming this piece of info about her is about the same time that art was made, as Juleka was described as "She’s a bass player in a Goth band" and her design in this line up.. lines up with the description.

(the design, if anyone needs a reminder.)

Reeling back to Ratif, (and by extension the later design) is that she is very wooed by Chloe: "She worships Chloe, whose beautiful blonde hair, matte skin and personality she admires."

(what Chloe looked like btw. Still rocking "Melody from the QK's look", while slowly transitioning into the villainess we know today.)

A pale white girl admiring someone's "matte skin and blonde hair" feels like something I am wholly unable and unequipped to make proper commentary on. But I get very very bad vibes with how Sabrina is portrayed as "worshiping her beauty" and, considering how this attitude is carried all the way through the canon show..

Well.

I understand that teens tend to judge themselves harshly compared to their peers, and that someone like Sabrina (who has a cop for a dad) might pressure herself into being someone who dresses "properly" and gets top grades. Kids get that way, desperate for approval... and when she encounters Chloe- who seems to pull off her looks flawlessly and with confidence- it's no wonder she is drawn to her, even if that relationship makes her self-esteem worse.

"Ah, her hair falls so easily into waves, and my hair is so unnameable." "Her clothes are nicer than mine" "She's able to say what she wants so freely without worrying what people think of her."

I think this is a great bedwork to elevate Chloe as a character, to show the extent of her selfishness and to use and abuse others who are emotionally fragile or are in less than ideal situations. (a thread that canon lost because she does this to ONLY Sabrina and her father... then backpedal entirely because they later have the narrative state that this is what they want. Everyone else tolerates her at best.)

Sabrina doesn't need to be a complicated character, tertiary characters don't need tons of depth and character development, and they exist to elevate other. more important characters. However, it doesn't mean that their stories can't be meaningful. Sabrina breaking free of Chloe's influence can suggest that "Even the most hopeless can break free of being star struck"

While directly unconfirmed, I think this IS her as Dragonfly. Greenhopper and Killer Bee are clearly Alix and Chloe, and the three were depicted and planned to be a trio of bullies. Plus, her red hair and green eyes pop aren't on any other character. At this time of development, it was known that the miraculous could erase disabilities, so her need for glasses was probably erased as well.

Anyway, on to how I would adapt her for FC

I think her wild hair makes her stand apart, but pulling it back into something more controlled hybridizes her design a bit and since it still translates that she's a bit more conservative and trying to keep herself together. I kept the glasses. Below the knee dress, big puffy sweater... she's got self-esteem issues and wishes so desperately she could be as bold as Alina, carefree as Alix, or as much as a shining beacon of confidence as Amber (so many A names!). So much so, that she has become a bit worshipful of Amber- swayed by her golden voice.

Her lack of self-confidence is made manifest via "Garmitt" her faerie, who is SO full of confidence that he is dead-sure that he is actually a dragon, rather than a dragonfly. It is him that pushes Sabrina to assert herself, and try to become what she wants to be.

When she sees a rule broken, she stands up for it- just like her papa- regardless of whether or not the rule was good or bad or even fair or appropriate in context: because rules are rules. She wants to make her dad proud, but he is too busy being focused on taking down the vigilantes: Ladybug and Chat Noir. So much so that it takes time from his private life- meaning his daughter is often left to grow up on her own. She wants to hate them too, but she admires them very much- Ladybug's wild creativity and Chat's confidence- and their genuine kindness to her, causes her to question what she strives to do.

For the first part of the story, she is a direct threat- the hall monitor, the enforcer. She shrieks to the teachers when something is up- she bars Marinette and Felix from escaping to deal with a wish-maker or renegade villain. She watches Marinette in the bathroom to make sure she's doing bathroom things rather than escaping class. She offers to do tasks that would help our heroes escape and threatens to debunk their alibis.

She is part of the Journalism team, working on the school paper. She's a great reporter when she tries, but her lack of confidence makes her stories lack a certain touch (for example, a new exhibit at the museum written by her is great, but she fails to interview people.) and she also fills in the gaps with white lies. However, Alina is helpful to her here, giving her genuine feedback and patience.

Unfortunately, Alan sways her easily, feigning interest in her in order to learn details- after all, she is the police chief's daughter. When Garmitt is stolen from her by the order. She is finally able to put her foot down- her indecision breaking and slowly building confidence is given a boost by the loss of her Faerie, and what the villians thought would be a person too lilly-livered and spineless to spill beans ends up being a catalyst to terrible losses. Specifically the threats of Amber & the police force... who are being heavily bribed by Fury and TsuTec.

so to summarize. She's a teacher's pet, and her story intertwines not only with LB and CN's, but Alina via the journalism club. Ultimately, she does the right thing, because despite what she does, she does view it as the right thing. She's ultimately a narrative payoff to the heroes being heroes & good people. She shows how dangerous some of the villians are- through her loss of Garmitt, manipulation by Alan and Amber, and the neglect of her father- who's obsession is fueled by corruption & money.

#Anonymous #Sabrina Ratif #sabrina raincomprix #juleka couffaine #fashion club au

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ips-northstar-official · 4 months

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Hey, long-time Caliban pilot here with some questions, first of all, do y'all have a print-code variation for one without all the physical enhancement systems? The motors are nice and all, but... They're too slow, and I keep breaking the damn things...

And, secondly, would there be, ah, any potential complications to mounting an Athena-Class NHP in a rig designed for m- a Sekhmet-Class? Partner's been having some complaints about weird data, and is, ah, a bit more trigger-happy than I would assume is typical for the class, which... Isn't exactly a problem, per se, but I worry about her.

- 'Rictus'

Hello Rictus!

We’re sorry to hear you’re having problems with your Caliban! To answer your question: yes, the printcode for the Caliban is fully modular, and you should be able to remove or change out the physical enhancement motors. If the base Caliban motors are too slow (we assume you may be breaking them because you’re pushing harder/faster than them somehow?) for your tastes, we recommend replacing them with motors from our Nelson line, which are purpose-built for durability and speed.

As for your partner: while it is abnormal to have an ATHENA operating in a SEKHMET mount, there should be no compatibility issues. Based on your data issues, we believe you may not have cleared the engram buffers, so there may still be leftovers of the last person hooked into the mount. Remember there are both secondary and tertiary buffers to scrub as well!

Let us know if these fixes work for you!

#lancer rpg #lancerrpg

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theinsanecrayonbox · 1 month

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Sabretooth War part 8 time

and again, doing it from tower so we can have panels, so that also means a cut to save dash space

bwahahaha idk but that over the top warning box just had me burst out laughing. i sure hope some karen complained that this storyline was too over the top pointlessly graphic (ok i din't really, because again i do enjoy bloody fights, but this is all just edgelordy nonsense for the sake of being unpleasant)

anywhos, onto our story in progress proper

i already mentioned the preview pages, and commented that i liked the parallels in the storytelling, and the Holly Bright/Bonnie Hale things. but the fact that Victor's admitting that he's a victim...has that ever happened before?

aw crap, Savage is dead-dead. i was hoping maybe she wasn't, like how Capt wasn't for an issue, since she wasn't decapitated. but nope, we can't have fun here.

Laura tauntsGraydona nd jumps out a window. he says screw it all.

Logan's getting patched up by Oya and monologing internally about how it;s so great to have no powers and could die at any moment...didn't we do this song and dance years ago before you died dude? also, you're not gonna be able to move very easily with that super heavy metal skeleton that your body won't compensate for properly without your healing factor. you know the adamantium poisoning is gonna get you. we've done this before; stop being so blasé about it.

Nekra thinks Logan's plans are dumb. Mr OC tries a psychic tap and freaks out because Graydon is so much worse than Victor? uh...wut. wiener boi, even in new shiny tinfoil mode, is not as large scale of a threat as you're making him seem. i'm sorry, but no. you cannot excuse taking the spotlight off of a main character because the wieners secondary (tertiary even) character is now the big bad and final threat. i'm just...uhg. Graydon is a wiener, and he has his purposes, but this isn't one of them. "extra dimensional tech will make this easy' yeah, uhhu, sure. you know what would've made this make sense; us seeing HOW we got this cool maybe. because you give the wiener a shiny gun doesn't mean we will immediately think he's cool and capable; it just makes him look like a wiener with a gun and make we should duck because he's probably doing to accidentally shoot himself with it.

and how do you know about that! you weren't part of the Pit Gang conversations. bad writing!!

so Logan takes the Pit Gang (trio really at this point) to his apocalypse bunker. and they fight bears. this is padding.

no it wasn't, stop lying Logan

cut to teh Greenhouse...

THE BOI IS BACK!!!!! where was he? what's he been doing? IDK AND IDC!! he's not dead, he's still here, he's in a panel. i'm not even paying attention to the rest of the page, what's going on...

Black Tom is making them a vegetable plane to go help Laura cause the them got her help texts. mk. and Cuckoo is getting a text from Quint-head that Vic is breaking out of the Audrey Two

and cut back to Logan and friends, and he's in adamantium armor with a Muramasa blade. yeah...lame. if this was to sell action figures maybe, but we don't do that anymore these days. so this is just uhg. also, didn't Laura have one of these getups? are we now repeating the OTHER Wolverine because we don't have enough new ideas???

whelp, this one wasn't so bad (why'd it warrant such a comedic warning idk lol). we progressed a bit, we got some flashbacks, we got a lot of dumb padding/stretching. but Arkady is confirmed still here, and in part 8, so i'll take it. (still not convinced my conspiracy theory that he was originally supposed to be dead in part 1 and it was changed last second isn't true...he has no lines in these 2 pages and could've been added in after the fact...he still isn't in the opening lineups yet Aurora and Northstar are and they haven't appeared in a couple issues)

#kp reads comics #kp rants about comics #sabretooth war #victor creed #sabretooth #arkady rossovich #omega red

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badfrideas · 11 months

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/post/709084580109516800/ kind of canon with the next fest cycle having new element themed ancient genes /forums/ann/3242126

From the post: "Our themed items this year will be elemental-themed, line-breaking tertiary genes for our ancient dragons. These items will be available in Festive Favors, and like the scenes, will return to Festive Favors each subsequent festival."

I'm counting it, flight vs element is sort of a nonsensical division, given each flight has/is an element.

#flight rising #fr #a series of unfortunately canon ideas

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sophieinwonderland · 1 year

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Correcting Misinformation on OSDD-1a and the Theory of Structural Dissociation... Yes, Secondary Dissociation Can Still Be A Complex Dissociative Disorder

The misinformation is getting a bit out of hand at this point, with many people parroting that "complex dissociative disorder" only refers to tertiary dissociation. Many of the people parroting this are referring to the Theory of Structural Dissociation without providing a source on it.

To recap, this is how the theory breaks down levels of dissociation.

There are a lot of problems with this model that make it controversial, such as the idea that OSDD doesn't have multiple ANPs. But that's not what we're talking about today. This is:

The clinical literature on treatment of complex dissociative disorders distinguishes the prognosis of three subgroups of patients (Boon, 1997; Chu, 1998a; Horevitz & Loewenstein, 1994; Kluft, 1994b, 1997, 1999; Van der Hart, Van der Kolk, & Boon, 1998). Of course, patients may move from one category to another over the course of therapy, depending on the success of treatment. The first subgroup consists of high functioning patients with secondary or tertiary dissociation. Such patients have a very functional ANP(s) with a considerably high mental level, internal cooperation and empathy, and various social, educational, and professional assets. There is little self-destructive behavior, and existing comorbid disorders (e.g., depression) respond well to treatment. At least the major dissociative parts that function in daily life have a modicum of emotional and relational skills, and social defenses and traumarelated phobias defenses are available for modification. Treatment is usually faster and proceeds in a rather straightforward manner.

This term complex dissociative disorder was never meant to be exclusive to DID and tertiary dissociation. It's clearly being defined in a way that encompasses secondary dissociation.

So... where does the idea that a complex dissociative disorder requires tertiary dissociation comes from? As far as I can tell, it originated from this quote:

Once there are multiple ANPs and EPs then a complex dissociative disorder is in place, structural dissociation applies, and there is no controversy.

This quote doesn't come from the authors of the theory of structural dissociation, but from Colin Ross in a criticism of the Theory. And I feel it's being removed from some very relevant and interesting context.

Ross is not using this line to suggest that having one ANP and multiple EPs wouldn't be structural dissociation or a complex dissociative disorder.

What he's actually proposing is that there may be cases of DP/DR (referred to as DD in the text) which have multiple ANPs without any EPs.

Is depersonalization-derealization disorder (DD) an example of structural dissociation? This is a more complex question than the one concerning dissociative amnesia. As for dissociative amnesia, we have to decide whether all, some or no cases of DD are based on structural dissociation. If we decide, all or none, then there is no problem. Once we decide that some cases are based on structural dissociation, but not all, then the problems discussed in the preceding two sections arise automatically. In DD, however, there are three possible configurations, to my way of thinking: no EP; one ANP and one EP; and no EP with two ANPs. Once there are multiple ANPs and EPs then a complex dissociative disorder is in place, structural dissociation applies, and there is no controversy. The DD then becomes part of a more complex dissociative disorder. The configuration of two EPs with no ANP could occur in theory, but no one has provided a clinical example of that, to my knowledge. In my view, DD is based on two ANPs or one ANP and a buried EP. In the two ANP configuration, there is the prior executive self who has been disconnected and buried, and a new, disconnected, floater ANP who is depersonalized. The new ANP feels like he has lost the old self with all its emotional connections. The properties of FPP, QSPP, SPP and TPP are in place, but they don’t seem real: the life has been taken out of them through a structural dissociation-based withdrawal. For this to be an example of structural dissociation, however, the no EP/two ANPs configuration must be allowed, and the requirement for an EP must be optional. The floater ANP in DD may know intellectually that he is the same person, and may not talk about the prior ANP as a separate person, but that does not necessarily mean that there is no structural dissociation. Careful interviewing of the floater ANP, reversal of the structural dissociation, and a subsequent careful interview of the prior ANP would be required in order to decide if this was structural dissociation. One might say it was structural dissociation with lack of insight. This is not just a theoretical matter. If many or most cases of DD involve two ANPs, then the plan of therapy should be based on structural dissociation, with a variety of strategies to create co-consciousness and inter-personality communication and cooperation between the two ANPs. The same would be true in the one EP/one ANP configuration. If there is no structural dissociation, then it is hard to see how treatment strategies derived from the DID literature could be helpful.

With this context in mind, it seems very unlikely that Ross meant to suggest that having one ANP and multiple EPs wouldn't be a complex dissociative disorder.

This feels like a case of poor wording being removed from its intended context and being misapplied in a way that would invalidate OSDD systems.

This theory from Ross does bring to mind another issue in this debate too. Can OSDD-1a have multiple ANPs?

I think if his theory that multiple ANPs can exist in DP/DR, it should also be reasonable to assume that multiple ANPs can be present in OSDD-1a as well.

With this in mind, I would like to refer this final quote from that paper, because I really like it and think it's something that the system community needs to hear when discussing the theory of structural dissociation, and just any current theories regarding dissociative disorders and multiplicity in general.

In my view, the theory of structural dissociation is a significant contribution to the mental health field, but it is not perfect and should not be regarded as immutable. It should be subject to modification and refinement, by its original developers and others, just like any scientific theory.

#syscourse #plural #multiplicity #plurality #system stuff #systems #system #psychiatry #psychology #plural system #pro endo #pro endogenic #science #actually a system #dissociation #system discourse

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gimmethemprimals · 2 years

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Take a shot every time someone shows multigaze clipping over a line breaking tertiary to the mods despite them having repeatedly said this is a known issue that can’t be fixed due to the nature of eye layering

#flight rising #fr

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manscend · 1 month

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@hollowedstreets notes: starter for Dakota

The upcoming merger had resulted in a lot of late nights on all fronts, their legal time weren't the only ones working overtime. The dull throb at the edge of Alec's temple was an omen of an impending migraine if he didn't give his eyes a break. The firm had sent an intern over to do a tertiary scan of the documents and all these hours later it was just the two of them left. Tie long-loosened and discarded somewhere alongside his jacket, Alec started to pour himself a drink from the bar in the boardroom as he scrutinized the intern a bit more closely.

Sharp jaw, sunken brow, athletic build - it was like the firm was basically dangling the intern on a string. Alec would bite, he had a weakness for hard-bodied interns. Crossing a line immediately, Alec waited for Dakota to pass him by before the weight of a strong, dominant hand came down on the other's backside - giving Dakota's rear a firm squeeze as he did. "I can see why they sent you over." Alec set his drink down, "You're a hard worker. I like that."

#hollowedstreets #hollowedstreets.dakota #alec.

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aglassoforangejuiceee · 2 years

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Old Skool #1

summary: steve introduces bucky to a girl he’s sure they’ll both like

warnings: dark themes, non-con/dub-con elements, mentions of drug use, reader deals/struggles with mental health, dealings with trauma, single parenthood, single mother reader (has a genius 4 year old), slow burn (kinda), blackmail, stockholm syndrome, angst, more tags to be added…

(1) Are You Gonna Go My Way?

You were tired when you walked into the studio.

A visible tiredness that you tried to combat away with coffee and a poppy seed muffin. Hiding a yawn behind your hand, you shuffle yourself and your materials to your sloppy desk. Papers, pens, and spilt paint littered along the surface.

Not only was sleep pulling at your eye lids, you were running behind with only ten minutes to spare before your workshop class entered.

Luckily your classes were small and intimate, but you tried to keep up with protocol. Unloading your canvas bag onto your chair you exhale deeply. Moving around the spacious classroom, you lay out trays, paintbrushes, water cups and napkins.

You walked along the spaces between the desks, remembering as close to detail how your students preferred their table set up — a nuances you’ve developed with time — muttering along to the lyrics in your head. Satisfied with each desk, you huff and pivot, talking out your headphones to prepare for the next task.

The easels are the toughest to move, and that’s exactly how he found you, struggling with the second one. Your hands ached as you pulled the metal and wood.

“Hey, need a hand?” The friendly lilt in his baritone voice gives you a jump. You look over your shoulder and smile at him, “Hi Steve,” His grin widens, his presence is palpable as he nears the usual desk he sits at, “you’re early.”

Bashful, he rubs the back of his neck and sets down his bag of items before approaching you. You step back, stifling another yawn behind your hand, “Thank you-“ your yawn breaks through making your speech slightly garbled, “I would’ve had this set up earlier but I had a late morning.”

“It’s no problem,” He grunts as he lifts the easel, “Where do you want it?” His blue eyes bright and striking as he looks for your instruction. You’re stricken at his gaze, mouth blubbering like a fish before you speak. “Uh, a quarter ways by the window,” you point to the window on the right of your desk.

Steve places it down before going to the wall where they normally rest. You direct him where to put each one, slowly slinking to your desk to devour your coffee and muffin.

Steve asks after you, a small line marring the skin between his eyebrows. You feed him the same lies, that you’re just tired, had a late morning. His gaze is lingering, not that that isn’t unusual, but this time there’s something… you brush it off. Not allowing yourself to ponder it.

When the classroom is set up, you’re at your desk going over the lesson plan, nibbling weakly at your muffin. “So Y/n,” Steve slowly walks over, “what do you have planned today?”

Glossy eyes meet his, “Um,” You pause, trying to find your words, “Color theory, I think it’s a nice way to wrap up the unit.”

Steve nods thoughtfully, “Walk me through it?” his lips curve into a small smile, contagious as you mirror his. “Y-Yeah, uh, it’s pretty simple. We’ll go back to the basics in a sense,” you swallow and look away, his gaze troubling to hold.

You pick at your hands, toying with the frayed ends of your long sleeve, “We’ll start with our primary colors, red, blue, yellow, and from there our secondary and tertiary etcetera,”

You explain briefly complementary and monochromatic colors just as a few more faces trickle in. Your eyes shift and you nod a small greeting to them as they go to their tables. Conversation bubbles in the otherwise airy classroom.

“Hey teach,” A dazzling smile turns your attention. “Hey Mikey.” You blurt, readying to turn your attention back to Steve.

“How ya been?” He walks over with an apple in hand placing it over a dried-paint covered tray. His regard for Steve is non-existing as he moves in his way. You tightly smile to hold back your yawn and cringe, “I’ve been good, sleepy, but okay”

There’s shifting at the corner of your eye, You turn your gaze to Steve. The taller man looks tense in his features, silently walking off to his table and easel of art materials. Worrying your lip you look back to Mikey, “anyway, you?” You politely return the formality.

“Ah you know, I’ve been good but my mornings are better seeing you.” He flirts, leaning over your desk and in turn leans over you. “Since this is the last class and the unit is over…” the invitation is left in the air as he studies your face intently, his grin softening.

You rub below your eyes, tilting your head. “Yeah?”

Mikey’s smile is wolffish as he shifts on his feet. “Let me take you out to dinner? Take a trip upstate?”

Your attention is drawn to Steve as he stands, and adjusts his easel. He watched your attention, the hardness in his eyes a noticeable difference from the brightness that had you in awe. When he meets your gaze, your words evasive as you answer Mikey, he winks, a smirk on his lips.

“So, it’s a no?” Mikey stands in front of your line of sight. “C’mon, I think we have great chemistry-“

“It’s not that, I’m just… things are weird for me right now.” You let him down easily. You stand slowly from your chair and move around him. Mikey looks at you for a moment.

“It’s the Captain isn’t it?” He prods, standing in your way. “I mean, yeah he’s a hero, but what about the average guy…”

Your brows tighten over your darkening eyes, the implications in his words not lost on your ears. “Mikey… I don’t care for titles and accolades-“

“Sure you don’t.” Scoffing under his breath he steps back, “but you won’t go out with me?” His eyes lighten in a way that makes him look like a petulant child.

With a sigh you pull at your sleeves. “Like I told you last class, would you want to deal with a bunch of baggage that has nothing to do with you?”

“This is different, it’s just a date-“

“A chance you’ll take to sleep with me. No thank you Mikey.” You tighten your firsts in your sleeves, hoping your voice is as firm as your hold on the fabric in your palms. “Please, class is starting.” You look past him and meet Steve’s eyes.

There’s a buzzing in your ears as his worried gaze flips between you and Mikey, his lips form the same question and like routine you shake your head ‘No’. Discouraged, Mikey sulks to his seat.

You inhale on an eight-beat count. Then you exhale. Shifting from behind your desk you wave to the last few stragglers. You stand in the middle of the classroom.

Pushing aside all the rage that goes on in your head, you put on your best smile and begin your introduction into the lesson plan.

“So,” You twist your smile nervously on your lips, “color theory. I know pretty basic,” You chuckle at the few minor groans you get. “But, it’s the last class, so let’s take it easy.” Again you find yourself looking at Steve, his eyes attentive and glinting.

—

You trip on the curb as you walk to your car. Wincing, you lean against the car, slowly rolling out your ankle. Conversation flows around you as students of all ages mingle and flow like traffic on the highway.

Unloading in your trunk, you limp partially to the drivers seat and drop inside. You reach for the box of cassette tapes and shuffle through them. You pick your hair-rock mix and pop it in the player.

A grin rolls over your lips as ‘Dr. FeelGood’ roars in the speakers. You’re off on your way, switching lanes in traffic and cutting through the city to get home. Your fingers tap along your steering wheel, head bouncing to drums and bass of the classic song. All could be considered well, had you not been fighting tears.

Whew, just a few more minutes… and then I’ll get to my little girl. You blink back your tears as you think of your little girl. Her bright smile, wide curious eyes. She was a ball of sunshine, a radiant bright child. She was amazing and was always the highlight of your day.

Your on a narrow two way road, obeying the speed limit as you keep an eye out for the street the preschool is on. Behind you an impatient driver beeps his horn and flashes his high beams.

“Uhh, it’s really not that serious dude,” you mutter under your breath. Quickly you glance at your rear view mirror, you mentally document the car: model, color, first three digits of the license plate.

Flipping on your blinker you turn. As you maneuver your car the one behind you swerves around you dangerously.

Your heart thunders as you slam on the brakes. Adrenaline spikes in your system as you switch the gears of your car and jump out. Your vision tunnels as you spot the neon green leaves and hot pink flower petals. Sprinting to the entrance of the school you shout at your daughter to get back from the curb as the psycho driver swerves past the school bus.

Furiously your heart pounds against your ribs as you cringe. The drivers bumper and tire hit the curb, metal grins against metal as they narrowly miss your daughter.

“Nineve!” You holler, crashing to your knees as you grab her up. Her little hands squeeze your sides as she struggles in your hold.

You feel clammy as you pull her back. Eyes search for any sign of distress or injury. Turning her cheek this way and that, you ask if she’s okay, if she’s hurt.

“Mommy, mommy,” she whines. “I’m ‘kay, mommy i’m ‘kay.”

“I know, but that really scared me.”

“I’m ‘kay, look.” She breaks free from your constant searching. She spins around, showing off her pretty dress and colorful book back. “See mommy? I told you.”

You shakily exhale, wiping your cheeks and nodding. “I see, I see,” you reach for her and she stomps her little feet to you. Her chubby hands grab at your face squeezing your cheeks. “Mommy, did you get ‘nough sleep? You look t’wired.”

“Yeah, mommy is fine but her nerves are definitely shot.” Her cheeky smile is contagious as you lift her in your arms.

Her teachers and a few bystanders come to check on you. Some give condolences while a few try to get ahold of authorities.

“My goodness, people are just so crazy these days.” One older woman gossips to her neighbor. “Oh the poor girl, is your sister alright?” she turns her attention to you.

“No, I’m mommies baby.” Nineve shows off her toothy grin. You kiss her cheeks and hold her tightly. “She’s alright.” You reassured the older woman.

You and Nineve wave goodbye to the little crowd. As you walk to your car Nineve tells you all about her day. She enthused over the Dr. Seuss books she read during rug time, then came music time and she becomes even more animated as you strap her into her car seat.

Reaching into her bag, you grab the extra apple juice and one of her snack pouches. You secure both with her, kissing the top of her head as she continues.

“Then guess what mommy? We had station time, Ms. Periello taught us all about the dinosaurs.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes mommy! We learned about the triceratops,” She struggled to pronounce the word, the sound of it incomplete with her missing front teeth. “I think that’s my favorite dinosaur.”

“Oh! when I was your age my favorite was the tyrannosaurus rex-“

“The T-rex! An a-apex predator!” She hollers, kicking her little feet against the passenger chair. You chuckle and coo for her to calm down.

She’s bouncing for joy as she finishes telling you about her day. “…And then that crazy man almost hit me with his car, but mommy how was yours?”

You hum, flipping your blinker before turning on your street. “It was pretty good. A nice way to end the class. We worked on color theory and I left the class to paint freely.”

“Mommy are we going to paint when we get home?”

“We could if you like.”

“Yes, I like that very much mommy.”

“Okay kiddo,” You smile at her through the rear view mirror, putting your car into park before shutting off the vehicle. As you exit, you round the car and goto the right, back passenger seat. Unstrapping Nineve, you give her her book bag and lock the car.

She sings the hook to ‘Don’t Stop Believing’ and by the time you’re unlocking the front door she’s hollering the song. Proudly you holler along with her, waving to your neighbors as you close the door.

Nineve acts like your twin, stepping out of her shoes in time with you. She hangs her jacket on her rack of hooks, just as you hang up your jacket. She holds your hand as you walk over to the cubbies. She puts her bag in her cubbie, and you put your canvas bag in yours.

—

A clamor and the sound of a cars engine sputtering causes you to jump out of your sleep. Your skin is sweaty and clammy, the soft thin sheets and thick blanket clings to your skin. The central cooling hums, cold air chilling you.

You blink away the sleep in your eyes. Stretching your limbs you reach for your phone checking the time. 9.03 AM. You throw back the blanket and start your treck to your daughters room, you look down the hall to the front door, looking past the glass out to the street on the other side. A man is hunched over a large truck. The hood of the car is propped while smoke flurries in the air.

Just as your about to turn in the opposite direction, clamoring in the kitchen gives you pause. “Nonny?” You call out.

“In here mommy.”

“In here?” You whisper under your breath. “Baby what are you doing?”

Her little hums lead you to her. “I’m making break-fest.” She grins at you as she puts forks next to two plates.

On each are two eggo waffles drizzled with chocolate syrup, a mixture of blueberries and leftover roasted potatoes from dinner. Your eyebrows shoot up your face as you look at your little girl.

 She fixes a few dandelions in the vase, centering the table before sitting down. “Sit mommy, your breakfast will get cold.”

“Uh-“ you take a seat slowly. “Baby, you… you did all this?”

“Yes, I got up early.”

“Why? I could’ve made us breakfast.” You fold your hands together bowing your heads, you say grace and then begin to eat.

Nineve watches you carefully, eyes bright in wonder as she watches you eat. “It is good?”

“Yeah,” you smile, “It’s really great.”

“I wanted to surprise you mommy,” She stabs her waffle and takes a huge chomp out of it, getting chocolate sauce on her lips and chin. “You said you were t’wireed.” She speaks around the food in her mouth.

You smile and eat some more of your food. “That’s so sweet of you.” You look around the kitchen at the mess. The leftover containers are out and opened, she forgot to close the freezer door. The utensils draw is open and microwave has chocolate sauce stains. The out of place table chair makes you chuckle as you take in the scene. “You did all this?” you whisper in wonder.

As you ate, you could hear the man outside curse profanities. You lean back in your chair, head poking out to the hall but you could barely see. You stand up, ready to check when the coffee maker chimes.

“Oh! You’re coffee,” Nineve chirps. She wiggled out of her booster seat and pushes the out of place chair closest to the coffee maker.

“mommy don’t forget your coffee.” She grins and hands you the steaming mug. “Thank you baby,” you kiss the top of her head and she jumps down to eat her breakfast.

You fix up your coffee the way you like before setting down the mug. “I’ll be right back, I’m going to see if that guy outside needs help.”

“okay mommy!” she sings, squishing a piece of potato between her fingers before nibbling it. You place another kiss on her head before leaving her side. You stand in the doorway for a moment, assessing the situation before closing the front door behind you.

“Hey,” You jog down the few steps and cross the short lawn to him, “Spark plug troubles?” you guess.

The man grunts, bumping his head before lifting to his full height and facing you. Being starstruck lasted a second before you blink, clearing away the invisible fairy dust around your eyes before looking into his eyes again.

He smiled sheepishly, “How’d you know?” The sun glints off of his left arm, metal glaring as he rubs the back of his neck, hissing as the burn.

You bite back a chuckle and step closer. Pointing at the smoke you wave it away from your face. “The smoke isn’t as dense as a burned out battery.”

You peer over the top but grimace, “I’ll be right back,”

You jog up to your driveway and open the garage door, you move quickly grabbing the stepping stool before jogging back. Prepared, you step up, ready for hands on work.

Your maneuvering is almost expert like, continuity in your movements graceful as a swan. Leaning back, you show him his spark plug, “Dunno how you missed this; but it’s been cauterized severely. You need to replace it and clean up the ash or the entire system will be fucked,”

You jump down from the stepping stool, analyzing the damaged spark plug. “I’m talking new reworking, replacements the whole nine yards..”

“How do you know so much?”

“Trade school, Advanced automotive tech,” You shrug.

“And the plug?”

“No cauterizing from inside the engine, definitely tampered.” You turned around to look at him, He stood at the garage door watching you.

His steely eyes are focused, sharp as he inspects you. “I’m surprised though,” You turn away and climb up your supply shelf, using your tip toes to balance you on the shelf.

“Why?” His voice sounds closer, you hear him tinker in your tool box.

Looking over your shoulder you eye him, only looking away when you spot smudged ash on his jean pants. “Avengers tower is about fifteen miles from here, with a plug damaged like this, you’re not making it a quarter of a mile,” you mutter, digging in your spark plug box. “let alone anywhere..”

Searching out a plug the same size as the one in your hand you continue, “the truck would’ve broke down, maybe even cause a fire. Lucky, I guess.”

There’s movement closer behind you. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end when you feel the ghost heat from his angry metal hand.

“Mommy where is the watercolor paint?” Nineve asks. You peer over at her, focus in your features. “Check my desk.”

Her dark eyes matte. Focus on the man you assumed to be behind you. “Mommy,” she whispers, eyes slowly drifting up to you. “It’s okay nonny, go get the paint, I’ll be inside soon.”

She frowns at you but resigns. Nineve opens the door that connects the house to the garage wider, her gaze focused on the famous man. “I’ll be right inside mommy.” her eyes narrow as if to threaten the goliath.

When she slowly disappears behind the wall in the hall you chuckle. “Believe it or not she’s only four, ah! there you are fucker.”

You turn around to him, not fazed by the look of surprise on his face. You step down the shelves, coming up to his chest as you hold on the damaged plug. “I can install this if you’d like Sergeant.”

“Call me James-“

“James. Got it… well?”

His face reddens, lips parted to speak until he’s interrupted.

#dark!stucky #dark!stucky x reader #dark!stucky x black!reader #single mom! reader

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