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#lets file this under art therapy
lexicals · 4 months
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System collapse notes made as I read:
(Spoilers, obvs, mostly out of context)
Amazing opening page as usual. This feels like coming home I'm so happy
Side note, "one of you" - like, is this being delivered to an actual audience, or does mb just like to pretend it is? I know it's just an in-universe excuse for the conceit but either option is so good
ART canon tax fraud?? ART canon embezzlement???
ART @ BE ship: "people die in car crashes all the time. I just thought that was interesting :)"
The note about iris having grown up alongside ART is so funny. And the note about her being ART's ratthi is so sweet from both sides of that comparison
I adore Three so much. The fucking baby deer comparison killed me this poor construct
I could be misremembering but it feels like secunit's narration has more colloquialisms than before, which is fun if I'm right
Love than mb and mensah have the exact same reaction to the extra settlement lmao. Handshake meme
ARGUCUSSION
SECUNIT YOUR BOUNDARIES. YOUR NEEDS. PLEASE STOP TELLING PEOPLE YOU'RE FINE
"Fun stuff like space battles and rescuing people and space monsters and throwing asteroids at planets" this bot loves its cheesy tv so much I'm gonna cry
WHY DO YOU KEEP REDACTING THINGS SECUNIT PLS THIS IS STRESSFUL. I can't tell if this is it editing out trauma discussion or something else
Mb casually using ART as a dictionary lmao
Oh god is it hurting over 2.0 specifically. Oh man of course it is. God this poor bot I'm so 😭
Mb and ART working as a team so fluidly.... best friends......
Ratthi can tell secunit is busy thinking/working just by glancing at it.... FRIENDS.....
"SENTIENCE SUCKS" LMAO. YEAH OKAY WE'VE ALL FELT THAT
MB JUST HAS THE VIDEO FILE OF RATTHI ALMOST GETTING EATEN BY A WORM ON HAND. AMAZING
Mb and pin-lee bonding over watching scifi car crash videos. Incredible
SECUNIT THE SELF-DESTRUCTIVE TENDENCIES. LITERALLY TRYING TO JUMP OUT OF A PLANE WITHOUT A PARACHUTE. PLEASE
I'm gonna cry pls mb stop beating yourself up for being traumatised. This is exactly what you were giving mensah shit about!!!!!
"It was always my job to get hurt" I Am Going To Fucking Cry
CITING ITS SOURCE ON THE PRE CR HISTORY LESSON LMAO
God I feel like this poor bot spent six books building up its confidence and it's all just been shattered after the thing with 2.0. Like it's so palpable in the narration that it thinks it's broken in some way and is forcing itself to carry on regardless but with no regard for its own survival, which has always been of pretty high priority for it even in ASR!! It's let itself get beaten up in the other books but it's never been reckless like this. Mb please stop punishing yourself.....
Ohh tarik and mb shared corpo trauma..... can we talk about that maybe
Ratthi correcting iris about the ex-secunit thing.... ouuououugghghh
"Under normal circumstances that would be kind of hilarious" mb honey as a reader. That IS hilarious
Mb "so is this guy your..... ex-security..... not that I'm feeling jealous or insecure rn....."
HEY GUYS YOU EVER HAVE A PTSD FLASHBACK SO BAD YOU PASS OUT. GUYS
HEY GUYS HAVE YOU EVER HAD YOUR BRAIN-CRASHING PTSD FLASHBACK ANALYSED IN DETAIL BY A BUNCH OF PEOPLE YOU WANT TO RESPECT YOU
Mb once again having the worst time of its life but being offered a media archive by a friendly bot: oh fuck yes hello there
Ooooh pre-corpo media no less......
THE ART THERAPY-SPEAK..... "that’s for humans" "this affects the part of you that is human" I'm going to yell and yell and yell
"No, it doesn't read my mind, it just knows me really well" 🥺
I feel like MW has gotten more up to date on current gender/pronoun usage since the earlier books which is nice to see. We've had neopronouns before but having pronouns attached to feed/character intros is new and appreciated
Mb: "aw fuck am I being tall and intimidating again"
Local secunit physically repelled by power phrase "sexual discussion" like a fucking skyrim shout
VISUAL EQUIVALENT OF A WET BLANKET..... SECUNIT......
OHH...... OHHHHH!!!!! OHH MY GOD THE. IS THIS THE. WHEN I TALKED ABOUT THE CONCEIT EARLIER.........
Oh okay no BUT MURDERBOT NEW CREATIVE DIRECTOR POSITION BABEY!!!!!
And ratthi is so supportive. God I'm so. AAAAUGH
Just patch out the anxiety lmao. New mental illness fix dropped please restart your OS to apply
Telling your bestie to fuck off IS a kind of love language and I'm glad that ART appreciates it 😌
LITERALLY "(INTERNAL SCREAMING)". LMAO
Mb literally in a life or death situ rn: I could just burn part of this person's brain out to save us..... that seems mean though :/
"I lack a sense of proportional response" LMAO ART. At least it's self-aware
"I didn't come here to make friends" says the secunit who literally cannot go anywhere without forming some kind of allyship with someone
The delayed-hack though, that's fun. Wonder whether this file is gonna slowly make its way from CR secunit to CR secunit as mb gradually becomes some kind of mythic figure, lmao
"Be safe" 🥺
FINAL GIRL IS OUT. FINAL DRONE IS IN
ART: "Oooh you guys care about me ^^ lol"
LMAO ART YOUNGER SIBLING BEHAVIOUR
ALSO YES SET THREE UP WITH THE OTHER CRAZY SMART AI THEY CAN ALL GET A SECUNIT BESTIE!!!!
Murderbot trauma acknowledgement 😌 You go working through your feelings mb you're doing so well ily
WHERE ARE WE GOING NEXXXTTTT THAT IS INDEED THE QUESTION!!!
Summary thoughts: this was really good and I like that MW has taken the time to address the NE fallout before moving on to whatever is coming next, I'm mostly just excited for that whatever-comes-next now. I didn't expect this story to still be focused on the same planet, but it's cool that it was! And now we're moving on with more machine intelligences and rogue secunits in play!! And they mentioned the comfortunit from artificial condition so hopefully that'll come back into play soon as well! I feel like something is building up wrt construct rights in the setting and I'm very excited to see that, but in the meantime I loved getting this familiar romp through MB having a very bad day and working through its emotions while also trying not to die. And it was fun having the twist on the usual formula with things being so isolated and it having to handle everything while being off its game, it felt a lot more tense than some of the other entries just by virtue of the fact that MB's narration was so much less confident than usual, and it made it really nice to hear the fire come back to its voice once we hit that point in the story. 11/10 as usual I love this bot so goddamn much
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corevoid · 1 year
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AAYYY some refs for my turts!! Still tryna work out a name for this au lmao. Rewrote the text under the cut, apologies for my atrocious handwriting ahddhhdjf
Really vague story synopsis: “villain” donnie au where he doesn’t become evil exactly but instead snaps and goes on a violent revenge quest to avenge the death of someone close to him. He believes he has to be the one to kill the one who did it, and leaves his family and becomes a sort of antagonist to them as well while they try to help him and bring him back so they can tackle this together.
I don’t know if I’m gonna make it a fic or if it’s just gonna live in my head lmao (motivation to write is sucks) but I’m definitely gonna be doing a good chunk of art for it :D
(ALSO IMPORTANT: their origin is very rise esque in that they were mutated with the intention of them being weapons. They have some genetic enhancements (pain tolerance and strength, most notably) and have some added dna from wolves and cats.)
(Also also forgot Mikey and Donnie’s flags they’re genderfluid and demiboy respectively)
Hamato Leonardo, 17 y/o, he/him, 5’9”
-Headphones are Bluetooth
-yellow pupil, tends to unnerve people
-most doglike of the 4, lets him pull some terrifying expressions
-in regards to knee brace, pain from an old break
-pure white nictitating membrane
-inferiority complex + anxiety
-most wolf dna of the 4, shows in snout and teeth. Behaviourally very doglike. Incredible sense of smell and hearing.
-quiet but not shy. Scarily observant.
-adorably polite, massive people pleaser
-the most hungry for his dads approval, has gotten him and his siblings in trouble trying to get it
-music enthusiast. Has a YouTube channel dedicated to making electronic remixes of literally everything under the sun (huge nerd)
Hamato Raphael, 17 y/o, he/she, 5’7”
-Alligator snapping turtle, second youngest
-plastron chip is as healed as it will get. Is what remains of a near complete left shoulder to right hip crack.
-chews his mask tails when he’s nervous
-red pupil, black band horizontally through iris
-files her spines down, back is flat and smooth
-strap on back for carrying a skateboard like Mikey has
-light bluish iridescence to his nictitating membrane
-kept the most turtle features through mutation out of the 4. Iris band, mostly intact beak, can’t process a lot of foods, higher skin/scales ratio, etc…
-hot headed + short fuse, but also good hearted and gentle
-self proclaimed protector of the family. Made it his duty to be the only killer after seeing how Leo’s first (and only) kill affected him.
-it affects Raph too, but she pretends it doesn’t (get this child therapy!) Only ever talks to Casey about this.
-incredible cook, but only cooks for family. Own diet is just a normal turtles and entirely raw. (Still sometimes eats stuff he shouldn’t as a treat)
-loves animals, mad she isn’t allowed a cat
Hamato Donatello, 17 y/o, he/they, 6’2”
-Spiny softshell, youngest but tallest sibling
-one end of staff is a flamethrower :)
-top compartment of battleshell also acts as storage!
-self conscious about their height
-flexible and very flat shell, spines are soft
-removed several spikes so his battleshell would fit more comfortably —> no longer allowed in his lab unsupervised
-yellow iridescence to their nictitating membrane
-shell doesn’t come up past their shoulders when he stands straight
-very quiet and rather shy, confident in his intelligence but not much else
-doesn’t speak often, and when they do it tends to be very succinct. It’s a special treat whenever they actively participate in a conversation
-Mikey is very special to him. Rarely ever see one without the other. Mikey frequently acts as Donnie’s voice, always knows exactly what he’s feeling and thinking (like twin telepathy pretty much)
-enitrely carnivorous, and a good hunter
-struggles to keep their animal nature separate from their human nature. Prone to slipping into a feral state, especially under stress, and is always feral during fights
-VERY self conscious and embarrassed by this, tries very hard to stay in a human mindset
-robotics hobbyist. Participates in robot fighting and currently holds champ title. Attends remotely via a metalhead-esque robotic body. His persona/stagename is Dondroid :)
Hamato Michelangelo, 17 y/o, any pronouns, 5’ even
-Ornate box turtle, second oldest but still the shortest
-doesn’t wear elbow pads 🤨
-very tall and round shell
-pink iridescence to her nictitating membrane
-heterochromia!
-excitable and energetic, but like in an easygoing sort of way
-VERY emotionally intelligent,can understand someone’s emotional state via vibes alone
-closest with Donnie, they understand eachother on an insanely deep level. Frequently acts as Donnie’s voice and is his primary support
-they’re the most human of the 4. He’s incapable of making the more animal sounds his siblings can and has to just approximate them with the voice box he has.
-she’s also the only warm blooded turtle. Makes them a prime hug target.
-An artist! Loves any 2d medium. Has an ongoing comic (6 books and counting) about a self insert superhero lol (her sidekick is based off Donnie, too)
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baby--charchar · 19 days
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Tell us about Rhea and Vaggie. It's ok if it's a lil dark, my OCs dark too if I were to go into detail.
Okay!
Tw: Mention of suicide with moderate description.
Rhea
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Rhea is...something alright. She spawned within the pool of the renovated hotel one early morning, and floated around aimlessly until she found her bearings. Vaggie came in a few hours later to do a routine check before the pool opened to guests, and there was just this little water spirit creature taking up residence. She coaxed Rhea out of the water, got her a hoodie and a lollipop to keep her comfortable, and sat her in her office while she made a VERY angry phone call to heaven.
Apparently, heaven in all their "glory" were prioritizing those who had committed suicide on the path to redemption. And what better way to set a wayward sinner on the right track was to spawn her directly into the hotel the moment she died! Lute thinks this is just fucking hilarious, because naturally she's the one who picked up the phone when Vaggie called.
"FINE BUT YOU BETTER SEND DOWN HER GODDAMN FILE TOO, YOU CAN'T JUST BE SPAWNING GUESTS IN THE MIDDLE OF THE HOTEL WHEN WE'RE NOT PREPARED-" "Already in your desk, Vajjie~ Have a good day!" *click*
Rhea was a 23 year old earthling with both autism and moderate hearing loss. She had a history of abuse and medical neglect as a child. She made the decision to commit suicide, which Vaggie came in knowing. Vaggie was not however ready for the graphic description of her method, involving both cutting and drowning in the nearby ocean. Rhea was an avid swimmer and always found peace in the water; in that moment, she felt like she was "going home." This is the reason behind her fish like appearance with multiple cuts on her body.
Vaggie takes Rhea under her wing more than any other guest. They don't really use the word 'regression,' although it is what it is. Rhea is anxious, jumpy, and rather unpredictable. She needs lots of support and check ins to make it through the day. Without a lot of support, she can have meltdowns and shutdowns. She can also self isolate SEVERELY, so Vaggie is constantly coaxing her to stay around other people.
Charlie LOVES HER to pieces. Thinks she's such a sweetheart (despite the horrible meltdowns, screaming, thrashing, and breaking things). Working with her is a challenge because of the communication barrier; no one at the hotel signs and interpreters aren't readily available in Hell. Right now Rhea uses little communication cards on a lanyard around her neck, but of course they won't meet all her needs. Charlie sticks to play therapy and art therapy with her, things where language isn't the only way to communicate.
Vaggie is doing everything she can to learn sign language. She's got a few signs down that are vital for caregiving: yes/no, come here, sit, good girl, eat, hug, swim, and sorry. It's not much, but it always seems to help Rhea work her way down from a crying fit.
Rhea is painfully shy and introverted. Does NOT like group activities, being in a crowd, or spending time in the lobby/public areas of the hotel. She honestly wants to be a quiet little shut in, but Charlie and Vaggie are gonna get her past that.
When Rhea has hit or social limit, needs space, or is just in a bad mood, she dashes into the pool. She can stay underwater for up to an hour and ignore everyone, which to Vaggie is a huge no-no. Of course, Rhea is fast, and once she's determined, then chasing after her is like chasing after a greased up piglet.
She gets SOME pool time. She really likes the sensory aspects of being in the pool, so she often just hangs out by the waterfall or fountains, letting the spray beat at her skin. She can sit there for hours just being with water. Vaggie knows it's GOOD for her to have sensory time, she just can't live in their pool, dammit!
Her room is basically a sensory room with a deep-ocean theme. Blue LED lights, a swing, plush carpet, and a massive TV.
Vaggie helps her get to bed (which Rhea loves, she is a very sleepy baby), as well as get up in the morning (which Rhea hates, she is a VERY SLEEPY BABY). It takes a lot of coaxing to get her up and ready for the day.
Small side note: Lucifer makes pancakes for the whole hotel on Friday mornings at the bar. Friday is the ONLY day Vaggie doesn't have to fight tooth and nail to get her up. Rhea loves watching Lucifer pour the batter and see all the little bubbles come up. He already knows to add chocolate chips to all 3 of hers! It's their little weekly routine.
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wecandoit · 2 years
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what i read | jun-jul
note: digital versions of most books can be found on Z-library] '*' indicates a trigger warning (direct references to death, abuse, violence, obvious triggers for mental illnesses)
Books
Little Fires Everywhere by Celeste Ng
The Inseparables by Simone de Beauvoir
Masterpieces of Art: Vincent Van Gogh by Stephanie Cotela Tanner
The Deep by Rivers Solomon
A Little Life by Hanya Yanagihara*
Articles + essays
How Britain's Opium Trade Impoverished Indians (rec from @/apricitystudies)
Bad Therapy*
Life After a Traumatic Event and the Problem with the Resilience Narrative (rec from @/apricitystudies)
Bias in Mental Health Diagnosis Gets in the Way of Treatment
Waking Up Late Doesn't Mean You're Not Successful
Brain Function of Night Owls and Larks Differ
Muslim Feminism is not a Paradox
How Do Women Really Wield Power?
Little Archer, Big Mystery
The Anxiety of Influencers (rec from @/saintbronte)
Leaked Amazon Memo Shows the Company is Running Out of People to Hire
Uber Files: Greyballing, kill switches, lobbying - Uber's dark tricks revealed
How To Help Someone Financially Without Being Rude (Or Ruining The Friendship)
Arabs believe economy is weak under democracy
Why 'Spirited Away' is Japan's Greatest Animated Film
Mountain Gorillas: The Ripple Effect of Conservatism
Short stories
The Light at the Edge of the World by Avra Margariti
For Colored Girls Who Have Considered Suicide When Popeye’s Chicken Was Enuf
Seafoam & Cinders by M.K Hutchins
Emotional Morons by Becky Mandelbaum
Videos + podcasts (yes i know this isn't reading let me live okey)
How To Keep a Commonplace Book
why do the 'it girls' quit?
The most successful pirate of all time
The Gilmore Girls Diet and Food Obsession: A Deep Dive*
DKMH by Dacre Montgomery (poetry podcast)
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ofc-fics · 10 months
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Get Em Is Not A Plan
Masterlist
Taglist: @setsuna1415​
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Bloom recovered easily enough, and immediately started insisting she was fine. Not half a second later, Freyja felt like she was going to throw up. Bloom was urged to sit at the table and thought privately until Sky interrupted. Freyja wanted Farah to snoop, but the older fairy would never.
"Magic won't be needed until we've cleared out the controlled Speciallists so just sit tight." Saul was overly cautious, but perhaps they could use a bit of that.
Soon enough, they moved out. The military students moved in unison, in a single file line through the woods to the outer parts of Alfea. They would move in and attack the Specialists under Blood Witch control, then they would send word when all their men were down and shoot to kill was available again.
But Musa called before Saul did. "I think the Blood Witches know about the attack."
"Are you sure?" Bloom asked calmly.
"No, but there are a ton of Specialists headed outside the school."
"If they send all they took, Silva won't be able to break through," Stella connected the dots.
"He has to. We have to clear out the Specialists so I can get in," Bloom argued.
Freyja tapped her shoulder in scolding. "We," she corrected.
Bloom grimaced at her similar, over her shoulder. "I really think I should go in alone."
"You always think that," she countered easily, shaking her head. "So do I. Trust me, we're both wrong."
"Have you seen Flora?" Terra asked.
"No. I know where they've got her, but-"
Terra shook her head, trying to stay positive. "Okay. No news is good news. There's still time. And if the Specialists fail, we'll break her out ourselves. What about Grey? One last appeal?" she asked Aisha.
"You saw the video," the water fae retorted. "You really think he'd interested in helping us?"
That disheartened Terra, who looked like she was about to start crying.
But said video on Grey could honestly be an argument for him. He showed compassion, scolding his ally with the reminder that their enemy was still human and deserving of basic human respect.
Terra's gaze shifted to Stella, awaiting ideas. The blonde reached for her phone immediately. "Look, I can try Beatrix again."
"I... think she left."
Terra smiled, but she was decidedly displeased. "Okay, so, basically, Flora's screwed. That's what everybody's saying. She's gonna.. lose her magic and there's nothing we can do about it."
A few deep breaths came from the other end of the phone. "No, not nothing. I'll text you later." The descending droplet sound meant she'd hung up.
Terra nodded with a shrug and a smile and left the abandoned cottage. Stella stood and followed the emotional Earth Fairy fondly.
Aisha brought everybody's attention back to the room. "Not one to dis art therapy, but... wanna share with the class," she quipped.
"Earlier this morning, I didn't pass out from exhaustion. When I summoned my Dragon Flame, I saw... Sebastian. Then I saw this." She tapped her drawing with the eraser of her pencil.
Freyja supposed all psychics try to make what they see physical. Unfortunately, her drawing with a ball of shade with an outline of an aura. It could be any element, any spell, anything at its raw center. "What is this?" she asked, leaning closer so her hands held the page.
Bloom shook her head, obviously overwhelmed and tired. "I dunno. Some kind of, um, vision or premonition. I know it definitely has something to do with my magic, but-"
The older redhead took her hand. "Listen. I know this is overwhelming. I remember the first vision I had." She tilted her head with a faint smile. "It was the distorted air over a bonfire. I knew I had to do something with what I knew, but I had no idea what. And it's gonna be like that for a while. You have to flush the memory out, try to retain everything you sense. What is Sebastian doing?" she asked.
"Standing," was Bloom's response.
She didn't let out the sigh in her chest. "Where's the thing?" she continued on, tapping the paper like Bloom had.
"In front of him."
"What does it feel like?"
Bloom shook her head. "I- it doesn't."
Freyja nodded. "Ok. Where is it?"
"In front of Sebastian. Where Rosalind was kept."
The young woman looked over her shoulder at her taller lover. "Under Farah's office."
"The catacombs," Farah supplied.
Both redheads leaned away in unison. "There's dead people in there?" Freyja asked lowly.
The Headmistress laughed. "Let's just call them tunnels, then," she corrected, still laughing.
Freyja adored the sight, and probably unconsciously showed it on her face, but she wasn't distracted as Farah obviously wanted her to be. Bloom was used to the lies, unfortunately. Freyja.... Well, she'd close her legs. Cut off affection. The Head would crumb in days.
But Bloom was distracted. In all fairness, she had quite a lot going on. "I'm scared," she admitted quietly.
Farah silenced, as did everyone else.
The ginger only had eyes for her fellow ginger. "This is all so effortless to you all; I'm freaking out. We're in a coup, our own beds- friends- taken by-"
The older girl took her face, shushing her quietly. "I know. But we've done worse than this many times." She smiled, taking in the youth in a young woman's face. Both she, Stella, Beatrix, and all of Freyja's students never had that. By Bloom's age, they'd all done unspeakable things. Or had been done to them. "You're a miracle, and a rarity. And not because of the power in your chest. And it is okay to be taken care of. Power doesn't mean always in control and always volunteering. You have to focus on you. I think we've had this conversation before," the elder laughed out.
Aisha touched the ginger's opposing shoulder. "It doesn't make you any less of a badarse to let your friends take care of you. It's the toughest thing I've had to learn, but after all this with Grey, if I didn't have you all..." She alluded to an unstable state of mind, an impossibility to relate with Aisha. "We are in this together."
The hug was sweet and all, but the Specialists were back. The mind controlled Specialists had, as Musa predicted and everyone should've trusted the only free mind fairy on campus, all piled out against their small squad. They had to retreat. Aisha went to help the man brought back. She'd even gestured the redheads to stay together. Like clockwork, Freyja's phone went off. Bloom had it, frequently guilting herself by watching the videos. She answered it and, in good cell etiquette, held it for both to listen. The screen didn't know whether to light up or go to sleep, so of course it did both, back and forth.
It was Sky. Had he gone on their suicide mission? Without anti-witch potion?
"THere you are. How are you?"
"I'm good. Even better when I see you."
Freyja made a disgusted face, knowing she felt the same like now, apart from Farah.
"How are you doing?"
Bloom took a dramatic breath in. "I mean, all things considered, I'm okay. Musa saved Flora from the scrapers."
"That's great."
"Yeah, except now they're stuck in there. So I guess we wait for the Solarians."
"Why do I feel like there's a 'but' coming?"
"No, I'm- I'm happy you're safe. I'm happy Flora's safe. I just... feel like this isn't over."
"At's cuz it isn't. Sebastian's going to get what he wants, and you're going to help him."
That was... ominous. Freyja felt ill in her chest. She faced Bloom to show her concern. Bloom just called her boyfriend's name in confusion.
"Go outside. Now." This was a new voice. Irish. Familiar. Antique. 90s.
Both gingers stood together. "Sebastian." Bloom was still doing all the talking.
"Quietly, and just you two."
"Which two? We're all in here and you're on speaker," Freyja bluffed confidently.
"Mind Magic, Freyja," he mocked, his accent twisting her name. "And if I get anymore lip out of either of you, Sky dies."
The ginger bit her tongue and sneered at the cell, her own cell. Bloom was in motion by the time the threat left the phone. Freyja followed, determined not to let her go alone. She'd had too much of that.
Grey stood watch in a blindspot of the Specialist's perimeter.
Freyja snatched her phone and ended the phone call. She walked up to the revealed secret witch.
"Don't you want to hear the rules?" Grey asked in confusion.
"Anything any Witch has to say to me, can be said to my face. Rules?" she asked.
"If you two tell anyone, Sebastian will know and Sky dies. If I get hurt, Sebastian will know and Sky dies. If you try to fight or deny Sebastian once you're there, he'll kill Sky."
Freyja's throat tightened. "What do you want?"
"The Dragon Flame," Bloom answered, halfway numb at the threats outside her reach.
"Now drop the phone," Grey ordered.
"Oor I can set it down carefully inside." When the boy looked like he was about to protest, Freyja looked like she was about to slap him. "This is a fairly expensive - but fuck it it's a - phone and Sebastian'll know if I signal anyone, right?" She didn't wait for an answer, executing her plan. As she stepped away from the table, she almost wished one of the girls would see her. She wished Musa was around. Or Farah. But she slipped out, unnoticed due to her experience sneaking.
Grey followed the pair, but he told them they were going to the Greenhouse at some point. Freyja faced two Blood Witches and smugly stared them down. Since their little magic didn't work on her, she could take em. Grey pulled her by the sleeve, further down the Greenhouse path indoors. He silently led them through the halls they all knew well.
"It's not too late to do the right thing," Bloom tried to appeal to Grey's better nature.
"What's that mean? 'The right thing'? You could've given him the dragon flame weeks ago. Who's to say that wan't right?"
"He's stealing magic from fairies," Bloom retorted.
Grey suddenly stopped and turned back to them. "Fairies are the ones who killed the Blood Witches at Aster Dell. I had family there, Bloom."
"Yeah, well we were there," Freyja suddenly snapped. "You wanna say poor you and your kind. They hurt us too, and we remember it because we were there. We saw the terrible things that happened. I was so traumatized and burned from the lightning, I can hardly get through a day not covering my back with some medieval corset. What else you got? How else did we wrong you?" she sassed. "Maybe- maybe we targeted the most guarded heart in your inner circle and penetrated it with our lies. No, wait. That was you. What else do you have to validate you?" she sneered in his face.
Grey looked a bit hurt, but he covered it by continuing to walk. "I'm just saying; it's complicated."
Bloom rushed after him. "Yeah, maybe. But one thing isn't. Aisha let you in. She let you in and you lied to her so you don't get to be on this moral high ground."
Freyja looked him up and down, and all the blood witch saw was two fairies dead set against him. "I swear, you're so lucky Sebastian thought about leverage."
"Yes, he is," an Irish voice called from the courtyard. "Why don't you wait outside?" the older Blood Witch ordered Grey. The boy left slowly and Bloom focused all her attention on the Witch, just like he wanted.
"i want to see him."
Sebastian 'tsk'd. "Things change, Bloom." When he saw her anger, he immediately went to manage her. "He's alive. He's fine. And he'll stay fine as long as everyone does as they're told. I just needed some stronger leverage." He backed further into the room.
The gingers followed like good pets and Freyja followed his line of sight. Hanging from the banister, wrapped in Earth Magic vines, in a cocoon like a spider's prey, was Farah. With a bleeding head wound, the older Air Fairy almost had a meltdown at the sight. She turned to the witch wicked fast. "I don't have the Dragon Flame!" she shouted in his face. Her eyes flared with her anger.
Bloom was stunned by the change of events and the fact that Freyja was screaming.
"A little over the top, I know, but it gets the point across." When Bloom went to step toward the suspended Head, she was scolded and warned. Sebastian's corrupted magic turned his veins the color of Earth Magic as the vines were coaxed to hold Farah tighter, and constrict her throat.
Freyja felt her chest tighten and she couldn't breathe. "Point-" she squawked out, "-point, point taken!" she screamed out strainedly.
Farah was allowed her breath back and Freyja took a slow one in. She was completely out of it, even with the vine from her throat resting loosely around her neck and shoulders.
Bloom turned to Sebastian, attempting to control her raging feelings but her eyes were bloodshot. She couldn't let Miss Dowling die. The woman who pulled her from the warehouse, who gave her Alfea. She really was the better leverage. "You want the Dragon Flame? It's yours. You can have it," she practically spit out, taking her jacket off. "Do you need a scraper to... feed on my magic?"
Sebastian, of course, knew the question before she finished and started answering. "No, the Dragon Flame would fry it in a second. Luckily, I found this." He pulled the Convergence Crystal out from behind his back. "You know how these work, right? You channel all of your power into this and I channel it into me."
Freyja looked at it. "Both of us?"
"You're both here!" he sang almost sarcastically.
"Because you called when she wasn't alone."
"She's never alone!"
Blue eyes narrowed.
Sebastian dropped his taunting hand as emphasis. "Once I have it, Sky and Dowling go free. And all the other Fairies can have their magic back."
Freyja bobbed her head doubtfully. "You're gonna let a scraper tap you that much?"
The Irishman smirked at the pair, again like he knew more than they did. "You all.... None of you know and you have no way to find out besides me. But your power...." He let out a whistle. "I'll be able to do so much cool shit." He lifted the crystal again, waiting expectantly. When they didn't start transferring power, he glanced up at Farah pointedly.
Freyja's eyes watered then glowed. Bloom got into position. Sebastian prepared himself. Bloom held her arm out, hand opened close to the crystal. Freyja just opened her palm where it rested. They called on the source of their power easily, having drawn on it for the Convergence Ceremony. Bloom had drawn on it before, used to using the full expanse of her power. Both essences were pulled into the Crystal like it was a black hole of gravity. The tear left Freyja's eye, skirting down her face before landing on the floor. Her gaze remained transfixed on the crystal swirling with deep orange and silver.
Next Chapter
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justhannigramfics · 3 months
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I was tagged by @quillienvii and I just have to say: you probably didn't realize what you were getting me into by doing so.
Rules: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! Then tag as many people as you have WIPs (not going to happen, sorry. There are too many)
So, I only write for Hannigram, but I have... a lot of WIPs. I'm going to leave a couple out just for simplicity's sake, but I'll put most of them here. To be clear, a lot of these are not going to be the titles I post under when they;re done. They're just working titles to remind me what each of them is about when I go to open the document. They are not alphabetized or in any specific order.
There are literally so many I'm going to put them under a read more.
Safety Check
For Now
Emotional Affair
Before they Knew
Subject of Adoration
Dolly Dear
Lost
Monster Hunter
Spectrum
Perfect
When it Rains
Uncharted
Desires
Empathy Blossoms
Thieve's Folly
Venom
Every Touch
Burn
Therapy Dogs
Il Mostro
Hell Sent
Little Shop
Halloween
Devil May Care
Ghost Will
Vintage Memories
Not That Interesting
Rope
Dear Doctor
Imaginary Friend
Past Prince
Horrors of the Past
Ear to Ear
While You Were Sleeping
Feelings in Bloom
Don't Shoot
Wondertaker
Undue Torment
Among Nobles
Living Art
Art Gallery
Scars
Falling
Height
Symphony of Souls
Murder
Running from Death
Fortune's Fool
Resurrection Men
My Fair Lady
Outsider
Will Bite
Dress You up in My Love
The Ghost and Mrs Muir
Never Heard His Voice
Sound Off
Origins of Evil
Advantage
For Now
Beetlejuice
Fish Love
Jealousy
Sorrow Demon
Dance
Invisible
Motorcycle
One Year Later
Inhuman
Labyrinth
Chance Encounter
Foresight
Taken
Medallion
Stigmata
Letters
Amnesia
Hardware Store
Medical School
Inner Voice
His Design
Anglerfish
Pastels
Interviews
Accelerant
Collision
Stubble
Christine
Blood Prince
Red String
Dorian Gray
Devil's Sacrament
Baubas
Honored Sir
Muted Thoughts
Grinch
Ladyhawke
Boogeyman
---
So, obviously I don't even know enough people to tag that many here. I'll just tag a couple people and hope they haven't already done it. @bozda-dom @sourweather-fics @slashyrogue @bodysnatcherrrr
There's that. Send me an ask about any of them. I am more than willing to infodump.
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ibibli · 6 months
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Exploring the Wonders of Cosmetology
The art and science of enhancing and embellishing hair, skin, and nails is known as cosmetology. It is the study and use of cosmetic procedures to make people appear good as its goal. It has various branches for face, hair, body, and general health care and beauty therapy. Let us explore the branches and programs of cosmetology in this blog.
What are the Programs Involved in Cosmetology?
Hairstyling Program
Hair is the most essential accessory that can be donned according to the occasion you are involved in. It can make or mar the personality, thus, is an important part of cosmetology. Training in cutting techniques, scalp and hair care, the most recent haircut trends, and many other skills related to professional hairstyling are all covered in the hairstyling program.
Nail Care Program
All types of diseases are most observed through the nails. It serves as a biological function indicator. A few steps are implemented to maintain healthy nails, such as avoiding nail-biting, cutting nails straight across with only a slight rounding at the tip, using a fine-textured file to keep nails shaped and free of snags, and keeping nails clean and dry to prevent bacteria and other infectious organisms from collecting under the nails. The nail care programme in cosmetology includes in-depth lessons on all these steps in protecting nail health. 
Wig Care Program
For many of us, wigs are an essential component of existence. By keeping all the insecurities hidden, confidence is boosted through wigs. Whether you have chosen a synthetic or real human hair wig, you'll need to clean it frequently with shampoo and conditioner made specifically for wigs. Your human hair wig needs regular maintenance to stay tidy, lustrous, and in good shape. Although wigs are identical to your hair in some ways, you must take certain additional procedures to ensure that it lasts as long as possible and continues to look beautiful. Therefore, this topic is covered in cosmetology classes where students are taught how to properly care for wigs, which are generally more delicate than genuine hair.
Makeup Artistry Program
Makeup is indeed a crucial part of everybody's life. It hides all our insecurities and works to enhance our confidence. Makeup is an art that can only be mastered through pure creativity and devotion. It is not a knack. This is why this part of the beauty industry is highly sought after when pursuing cosmetology. Most of the Beauty School Long Island train their students to get hands-on experience and enhance their skills.
Conclusion
Besides these skills, cosmetology students learn sales techniques, which are very helpful in generating more business and raising awareness among those considering cosmetic processes. Additionally, these students receive comprehensive guidance regarding health and safety regulations. These health and safety regulations are vital in educating aspiring cosmetologists about the dangers of handling delicate body parts, including skin, hair, and nails. Many of the mistakes in these procedures can damage the patient's health and destroy their self-confidence and appearance. If you are looking for Cosmetology Schools Long Island, opt for IBBI cosmetology programs, as they are a comprehensive design of all the beauty industry-related programs concerning hair, skin, and nails.
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thewarriorspecial · 9 months
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Greenhill High (CH4 - All Alone)
*Archive Edition* Previously only linked to AO3, full work now available under the cut.
Read on AO3
Rating: Teen | Guy Gardner/Kyle Rayner, Hal Jordan, John Stewart, Dinah Lance, Oliver Queen, Wally West, Katma Tui
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence
A little something special for @hobicat!
Coach Gardner and Mr. Rayner finally have a little sit-down to talk about the art therapy project. All alone.
When the last of Kyle’s students file out of the room, he checks the clock on his phone. Two fifteen—plenty of time to head down to Coach Gardner’s office for their meeting about the art therapy project. He hopes his very Casual Friday outfit won’t take away from his passion for the idea. He hadn’t thought about it until he was already tapping his badge to enter the building. 
Kyle had spent hours researching and envisioning what he wanted the class to look like and everything he had wanted to accomplish. Teaching students that art is for everyone and helping them find their medium—their voice—was the whole reason Kyle wanted to teach in the first place. He’d put hours and hours and night after night into his plan and only had a few pages of notes to show for it. 
He steps out into the quiet hallway. Jordan’s room was empty save for the cantankerous instructor. The older man was hunched over a stack of papers, carefully grading what looked like tests. Kyle decided that was a good enough reason not to bother him. He was terribly vocal when he felt bothered. 
Kyle sneaks passed the other teacher and heads through the long and winding path that Mr. Stewart had brought him through on his first day, obediently checking corners for out of place students. Seeing no-one, the place really felt deserted. A lot of folks either walked or took the train so once the last classes let out for the weekend, the school quickly became a ghost town. 
He heads passed the dark computer lab, the empty library, and sees a few souls reading and studying in the cafeteria. At least he wasn’t completely alone. It was a huge and forbidding place without the chatter and laughter of the students. 
He passes the Physics lab which still had a light on. He approaches the doorway and seeing the room as empty as the others, he reaches inside the door to turn the light off as a courtesy. He was sure he felt a gust of wind rush out of the room. He follows the sound but there was no one there. When he turns back, the light is already off. 
Not wanting to think about the place being haunted he immediately etch-a-sketches the whole event from his mind. 
Instead he turns his mind to the other thing that had kept him up most of the night; the promise of time alone with his guilty pleasure. Kyle sighs wistfully as he reaches the landing of the final flight of stars that will take him down to the locker room where the two had fatefully met on his first day. He remembers Coach Gardner’s honesty and kindness as much as his strikingly handsome face and killer body. Maybe the latter just a little more in the wee hours of the night.
At the bottom of the stairs, Kyle shook his head. He knew he needed to clear his mind and focus on the project. 
“There you are!” Guy’s cheery voice calls out from Kyle’s left. He looks excited and that alone unclenches the invisible hand that had seemed to be crushing Kyle’s chest with anxiety.
Guy sidles up to Kyle, placing a gentle, guiding hand at the small of his back. The touch is immediately electric and Kyle tries to hide his full body response. He’s completely taken aback and as he’s herded into the tiny office at the end of the last row of lockers, he’s overwhelmed—Guy’s height, the shape of his chin from this angle, his completely visible face no longer hidden by those goofy shades, and the hot brand of Guy’s hand separated from his skin by only the thin layer of his t-shirt. 
The office door closes behind him and Coach Gardner squeezes passed. Kyle finds himself transfixed as he’s wrapped in the clean, male scent wafting off of Coach’s still damp skin. He must’ve just gotten out of the shower and that is not a visual Kyle can afford to be distracted by right now. He twists the papers in his hands, rolling the bullet-point lists and handwritten notes until they look like old treasure maps—little trails to the deepest desires of his artist’s heart.
Guy can sense Kyle’s nerves, so heightened he’s sure he can feel his skin tingle as he brushes passed the fidgeting art instructor to sit behind his own desk. He gestures at the small, beaten office chair on the near side of the desk for Kyle to sit in. He gives him a warm smile and hopes his new friend will finally share the plan for this art therapy gig. Guy would do anything for his kids, no matter how goofy or convoluted but he had a feeling Kyle’s idea would be fun and easy.
“Easy,” Guy feels the word start to slide out of his mouth as unbidden images of Kyle on his back flooded his mind—goddamn old head injury—and slaps some other words behind it to cover up his sleazy thought, “buddy. I only bite if ya ask.” The laugh that punctuates that thought is way too loud.
Kyle jumps at the sound but smiles nonetheless, pushing his soft, wavy hair out of his face. His bangs sink back into their heart-shaped curve around his forehead anyways. 
Guy really wants to push Kyle’s hair back for him. He swallows hard and doesn’t miss Kyle’s eyes tracking the motion. Interesting.
“UH,” Kyle starts, clearing his very dry throat, “So. Papers. Yeah.” 
Without his shades on, Guy has no way of hiding where he’s actually looking. He doesn’t want to get caught staring at Kyle’s mouth as he pants or the pukka shell necklace resting just above the dip of his clavicle. Watching those little ivory shells peek out of Kyle’s shirt with each heaving breath makes him want to bite the sensitive flesh there. Instead, Guy leans down and opens the bottom desk drawer. 
Kyle’s eyes take the opportunity to greedily wander his coworkers face. 
Thick eyebrows framed deep set eyes and those blue, blue eyes were framed by short, golden eyelashes. Big nose, full lips, and a wide square jaw made Guy’s profile strong and sturdy. The thick column of his neck rounded into broad shoulders that disappeared beneath a tight, white t-shirt. Every breath stretched that shirt until the seams puckered, leaving far too little to Kyle’e imagination. The deep V in the shirt stretched and slid to reveal a thick pelt of golden fur just beneath the collar. 
A tiny, high-pitched ah creeps out of Kyle’s mouth, sending Guy’s thick eyebrows on a climb into his hairline. 
Kyle’s hand rubs the back of his head as he clears his throat again to disguise the helpless little sound he just made. He barely stopped the request of get on top of me immediately from tumbling out of his face. He’d have to limit being alone with Coach Gardner in the future.
One of Guy’s big hands was splayed on top of the desk, holding him up as he rummaged around the bottom drawer. Looking at that wide palm and long, thick fingers made Kyle press his lips together to prevent any more inappropriate sounds from escaping. He could not allow himself to think about that huge, warm hand gripping his waist or the tight watchband around Coach Gardner’s wrist disappearing between his legs.
“Here,” Guy nearly shouts as he slams a water bottle on the desk between himself and Kyle, “Ya lookin’ a little thirsty.”
“Yeah,” Kyle sighs dreamily before he can stop himself. “It’s a little warm down here.” He curses himself as he screams obscenities in his head. His own voice sounds so obviously gooey he’s sure he’s completely blown this whole project and the whole damn job because he’s acting like horny teenager.
Kyle takes the water and chugs, just trying to do anything with his hands and his mouth that isn’t crawling into his coworker’s lap and that whole train of thought needs to go all the way back to the station before it's too late. Or maybe it is too late by the bewildered look on the other man’s face. 
“What’cha got there, chief?” Coach Gardner asks, looking down at the crushed papers in Kyle’s hands.
“Yes! Right! The plans!” Kyle unrolls the abused sheets of paper on the desk. He tries to push his hair out of his face again and manages to even his tone to something a bit more professional. “Now, I’m not the psychologist, but I did do a lot of research and was kind of thinking about this from a how-am-I-going-to-lead-this-class perspective. 
“Letting these kids express themselves and knuckle-up with some of the more difficult emotions through their own art is a really important step in understanding and controlling those tough feelings. These activities need to be about seeing themselves as whole and not thinking that the way they feel is bad. I want them to come out of this with something in their hands that they made; something that is as much a part of themselves as their own reflection and be able to look at it and say ‘yeah, this is me and this good.’
“I guess what I’m struggling with is the structure. I have so many ideas for activities and I want everyone to feel psyched to join in. I don’t want anyone to sit aside and think oh I can’t draw so this isn’t for me. You know what I mean?” Kyle tries to turn the conversation over, realizing he’d been rambling for a bit. 
Guy takes the rolled up papers, spreading out his fingers to keep them as flat as he can. Then, he reaches into his top drawer and gets out a pair of glasses. He breezes through the list of activities, seeing a big range of traditional art activities, the inclusion of music, and even some physical activities like yoga and dance to include students who just aren’t into visual art. 
“This is really great, Kyle. I think we should break this down as a weekly activity—maybe something to end the week with and send the students home with something to show off or think about.”
“Thank you. My first full week we’ll be starting with line and value. We could do our first art therapy with an approach like, ok break this feeling down and express it with one type of line and we can talk about, like, jagged lines are kind of angry and curved lines are chill. We can tie it together as foundations of art and really tapping into choosing the right medium for expressing what they’re feeling.”
“Perfect! I can wrap it up with the discussion questions at the end. Would you rather have your students do a group discussion and call it their participation points or do you want them to answer questions on worksheets and use that for the written portion of their grade?”
“Oh, um,” Kyle pauses. He hadn’t thought about grading. At all. It didn’t feel right to ask a student to bear their feelings and then judge them with some meaningless letter. 
Guy watches as Kyle thinks it over, surprised to see something akin to anger begin to cross his attractive face. With that furrowed brow and determined pout, he’s either really cute or really hot when he’s pissed. What was it he had asked Kyle, again? He lowers his eyes to the page, shuffling through the papers to give Kyle a moment to think and to give himself a moment to remember. Ah, right. Art, grades, etcetera. 
“No,” Kyle says simply. 
“No?” The excitement in Guy’s bright blue eyes suddenly fades and it feels like a kick in Kyle’s chest.
“I can’t grade their feelings. That’s too far for me. I won’t make them feel judged. I can’t.”
Guy’s face contorts in confusion and then his usual, contagious smile breaks through, “Oh, no, not like that. No one’s gettin’ a D for their feelings. The state requires us as instructors to give points for each student’s completion of tasks in the class. They need some you know,” Guy waves his big hands around as if he’s trying to find the word he wants somewhere in the air. He’s also trying not to say mumbo-jumbo or bullshit. “They want some metric we can measure and say yeah little Timmy here pulled his head out of his ass long enough to answer questions. And he was here most of the time. It’s how we get paid. It’s dumb but it is what it is.”
“Oh! Right!” Kyle can’t help but cover his eyes with his hand for a moment. He can’t believe he managed to get a teaching certificate at all at this point. He really empathizes with little Timmy right now. 
“Bet you didn’t have anything lined up for the writing points, huh?” The smile in Guy’s voice is audible and his tone is suspiciously flirtatious. 
“No,” Kyle sighs. 
“Don’t worry, buddy. I’ll get you fixed up,” Guy says, rising from his chair. He sits on the front of the desk, big body on display inches from Kyle’s hungry eyes. Guy reaches out and pats Kyle reassuringly on his shoulder, “It’s your first rodeo. I’ll help you out.”
Why the hell did Guy have to wear grey sweatpants and then just stand there like that? Why? 
Kyle could feel a bead of sweat leave the back of his head and start the slow, aggravating journey down his back. Why did he choose today of all days to wear basketball shorts?? He was burning through the last of his willpower to Not Look Down. Seated in front of his crush’s crotch in the memetic Grey Sweatpants, fighting the freight train of lustful images, keeping his heart rate under 150, and now also keeping his treacherous dick from going to Phase Two; there should be some kind of medal for this heroic sacrifice. 
“You good, Kyle?” Guy asks, giving the other man’s shoulder a gentle shake. “Rayner?” Guy tries Kyle’s last name a little louder. Kyle’s face is pale and blank. His mouth hangs slightly open.
“Oh yeah. So good.” Kyle closes his mouth before he starts to drool. He stands, pulling his oversized t-shirt down in an attempt to disguise his rapidly growing problem. “Whew, I thought that was gonna be way harder,” Kyle's voice breaks at the double entendre. His laugh is giggly, schoolgirlish. He closes his eyes and grimaces.
Guy’s smile remains warm and inviting. He reaches for the office door and opens it. The air that’s pulled in from the surrounding locker room is just as warm and stagnant and smells faintly of chlorine from the nearby pool. 
“Right,” Kyle says, getting up a little quickly.
“I’ll walk you up,” Guy says as Kyle disappears `around the corner. Guy sets his reading glasses down and picks up his sunglasses instead. He hustles to catch up to Kyle just in time to hide the direction of his gaze as Kyle ascends the stairwell in front of them.
“Oh yeah,” Guy says, unintentionally out loud to the generous swell of Kyle’s gorgeous ass, bouncing up the stairs, “It’s gonna be a great day.”
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buckybarnesbingo · 1 year
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BBB Weeks 26 & 27 Roundup!
We are SO CLOSE to having 400 fills (!!!!!!!) which is amazing! Our content creators are FANTASTIC!
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Title: Molodets, Soldat Creator(s): Dogsled Link: ao3 Square: Adopted - Addiction Rating: Explicit Ship(s): Bucky Barnes/Helmut Zemo Warnings: N/A Major tags: Praise kink, Pavlovian expression of pleasure, hurt/comfort, sex as therapy, addiction Summary: Sex with Zemo is a kind of therapy. It's healing, in a way, but only because Zemo goes as deep as he does, and isn't the least bit likely to back down. For once, all Bucky wants is to make a breakthrough. Word count/format: 1513
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Title: Maybe around you Creator(s): endlesstwanted Link: ao3 Square: U1 - Hot water Rating: Teen Ship(s): James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson Warnings: N/A Major tags: Domestic Fluff, Bathing/Washing, Pet Names Summary: When they come home after a mission, Sam prepares a nice hot bath and Bucky brings up an interesting proposal. Word count/format: 1710
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Title: The Fail Safe Creator(s): Startrekking Link: tumblr Square: Y2 - What did you do? Rating: Mature Ship(s): Bucky/Reader Warnings: Choking, mind control Major tags: Enemies to allies, distrust, injury Summary: Tasked with watching a newly retrieved Asset, Bucky and the reader take turns sleeping through the night. However, when the reader drifts off the Asset attempts to escape and even though they are injured during the attack Barnes still blames them for what happened. Word count/format: 2000
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More under the cut!
Title: The fail safe Creator(s): Startrekking Link: tumblr Square: Y2 - What did you do? Rating: Mature Ship(s): Bucky/reader Warnings: Mind control, blood, choking Major tags: Gender neutral, ex HYDRA reader, enemies to allies, injury, hurt no comfort Summary: Tasked with watching a newly retrieved Asset, Bucky and the reader take turns sleeping through the night. However, when the reader drifts off the Asset attempts to escape and even though they are injured during the attack Barnes still blames them for what happened. Word count/format: 2000
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Title: Point and Click Creator(s): Girl Back There Link: ao3 Square: Adopted - AU: Sports Rating: Teen Ship(s): Bucky/Steve Warnings: None Major tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Athlete Bucky Barnes, Mutual Pining Summary: It's James-Freaking-“Bucky”-Barnes and Steve may actually faint when the object of his affection seeks him out. Word count/format: 823
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Title: finding peace (at the grand canyon) Creator(s): controlofwhatido Link: ao3 Square: K3 - sunrise/sunset Rating: Gen Ship(s): Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Major tags: Road Trips, Boys In Love, Recovering Bucky Barnes, Gentle Kissing Summary: Finally taking the trip to the Grand Canyon that they talked about as kids. A soft road trip fic. Word count/format: 2458
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Title: He lets the arrow fly Creator(s): nolanfa Link: tumblr Square: B3 - Science and Magic Rating: Gen Ship(s): Bucky & Clint Warnings: panic attack Major tags: PTSD Summary: Clint is fine. He's absolutely completely fine. Word count/format: digital art; video file, 1m23s, no sound
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Title: A Little Restraint Creator(s): Dogsled Link: tumblr Square: B1 - Grocery Shopping Rating: Explicit Ship(s): Bucky Barnes/Helmut Zemo Warnings: N/A Major tags: stockings, panties, established relationship, sexy clothes Summary: Chores get in the way of sexy times, and all Bucky can think about is what Zemo has on under his clothes. It's becoming a problem. Word count/format: 1000
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Title: Hydra's Pawn Creator(s): Caiti Link: tumblr Square: Adopted - Forced Marriage Rating: Teen Ship(s): Bucky/Darcy Warnings: Forced marriage Major tags: Mood board, Alternate Universe Summary: In an attempt to better control their weapon, Hydra decides to bring in a new prisoner. Her safety depends on his loyalty. Can Bucky save them both? Or will they both remain Hydra’s pawns? Word count/format: Mood board
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Title: Stuck in Rio Creator(s): Caiti Link: tumblr Square: U3 - Carnival (Swap) Rating: Teen Ship(s): pre-Bucky Barnes/Darcy Lewis/Clint Barton Warnings: Mood board Major tags: Mood board, Alternate Universe Summary: Bucky and Clint have been assigned a shared mission: find Darcy Lewis and bring her back to New York. They have three major issues with this - she’s in Rio during the Carnival; their well-known dislike of each other; and their carefully hidden attraction for each other and their target. How will they manage six days in Rio? Word count/format: Mood board
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Title: An Unrepeatable Miracle Creator(s): Caiti Link: tumblr Square: C2 - Hurt/Comfort Rating: Teen Ship(s): Bucky & Kobik Warnings: Mood board Major tags: pre-Bucky/Darcy/Clint, Alternate Universe Summary: Sometimes it’s not running away, it’s running towards something. Kobik tries to find another place where they can be safe and happy, and they end up in a very different world. They find their miracle in the most unexpected place - an average neighborhood of Brooklyn in a world that never heard of the Avengers. How could they have guessed that Clint Barton and Darcy Lewis would be their safe landing? Word count/format: Mood board
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Title: got a whole lot of history Creator(s): Tori/sup3rbloom Link: ao3 Square: B2 - Wanda Maximoff / Scarlet Witch Rating: Gen Ship(s): N/A Warnings: None Major tags: Fluff, Protective!Bucky Summary: Bucky meets Wanda at the airport for the first time before the big fight. His first instinct is to protect her with all his might. Word count/format: 600
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Title: Have You Seen My Arm? (AKA Sam dragging Bucky on social media - Prologue) Creator(s): rebelmeg Link: tumblr Square: Y3 - image of Bucky facepalming Rating: Gen Ship(s): Bucky & Sam Warnings: none Major tags: drabble, humor Summary: Bucky keeps losing track of his arm (while it's still attached to his body). Sam is... helping? Word count/format: 100
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Title: Down Time Creator(s): scottxlogan Link: ao3 Square: Adopted - Kink: Stripping Rating: Explicit Ship(s): Bucky Barnes/Tony Stark Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content Major tags: Explicit Sexual Content, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Miscommunication, Stripping, Needy Tony Stark, Married Sex, Rough Sex, Aftercare, Parent Tony Stark, Dirty Talk Summary: Tony's been having a great time showing Morgan the family vacation of her dreams. The problem is after all the bells and whistles, he's really missing out on the kind of attention he can only get from his husband when they are alone together. After two weeks without alone time, Tony reaches out to Bucky to let him know what he wants hoping that Bucky has the same ideas in mind. Word count/format: 9896
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Title: Accidents Don’t Just Happen Accidentally Creator(s): cable-knit-sweater Link: ao3 Square: Y4 - Happily Ever After Rating: Teen Ship(s): Bucky Barnes/ Steve Rogers Warnings: N/A Major tags: Modern AU, Meet Ugly, Fluff Summary: Bucky doesn't know what he's done to deserve this. Every time he's running late for something and is already in a horrible mood, this one guy shows up and makes it worse. At some point, his friends think he needs to get a life outside of work, and set him up on a blind date. Of course. It's that same guy. Just his luck. Word count/format: 3812
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Title: Avengers Ice Cream Flavors Creator(s): Caiti Link: tumblr Square: Adopted - AU: Frozen Rating: Gen Ship(s): N/A Warnings: Mood board Major tags: Mood board Summary: If someone decided to do a themed ice cream parlor, what flavors would the Avengers and their friends be? Word count/format: Mood board
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Title: Card Shark Creator(s): Caiti Link: tumblr Square: B4 - Poker Night Rating: Teen Ship(s): pre-Bucky/Darcy/Clint Warnings: Mood board Major tags: Mood board Summary: Maybe Darcy should have reminded them she grew up in Atlantic City and paid her way through college with her poker skills? Then again … they’d read her SHIELD file, right? Word count/format: Mood board
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Title: Mail Order Bride Creator(s): Caiti Link: tumblr Square: C1 - AU: Western Rating: Teen Ship(s): Bucky/Darcy/Clint Warnings: Mood board Major tags: Mood board, Alternate Universe Summary: The men may have gone west … but it would prove to be the woman who won it. Word count/format: Mood board
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Title: A Family Collecting Strays Creator(s): Caiti Link: tumblr Square: C3 - Free Space Rating: Teen Ship(s): Bucky/Darcy/Clint Warnings: Mood boards Major tags: Mood boards, Alternate Universe Summary: Darcy & Bucky knew that getting into a relationship with Clint meant taking on the munchkin, but they missed the fine print about helping him teach, train, and mentor the strays he always seemed to bring home. Word count/format: Mood boards
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Title: A Question of Agency Creator(s): LBibliophile Link: ao3 Square: Adopted - Judge, jury, executioner Rating: Gen Ship(s): na Warnings: references to past brainwashing Major tags: drabble, Winter Soldier trial, agency, philosophical/ethical questions Summary: The Winter Soldier. Is he the gunman, or the gun? Word count/format: 100
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Title: “I hate you” - “I love you” Creator(s): cable-knit-sweater Link: ao3 Square: Y3 - Under Pressure Rating: Teen Ship(s): Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers Warnings: N/A Major tags: Fluff and Humor, Stripping, Lapdance, Steve Rogers is a little shit Summary: Scott plays the song "Under Pressure" each and every time he joins the Avengers on a mission. Bucky is sick and tired of it. Steve decides to tease him a little, and try to change his mind about the song. By taking his clothes off. Word count/format: 1670
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Title: In the Rain Creator(s): Caiti Link: tumblr Square: Adopted - Crossover Rating: Gen Ship(s): Bucky/Clint Warnings: Mood boards, Alternate Universe Major tags: Mood board, Alternate Universe, Crossovers Summary: “Don’t threaten me with love, baby. Let’s just go walking in the rain.” Billie Holiday Word count/format: Mood board
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Title: surrender Creator(s): (HR)tftcw Link: ao3 Square: B5 - Kink: Strength Rating: Explicit Ship(s): Bucky Barnes/Clint Barton Warnings: N/A Major tags: Sensory Deprivation, Blindfolds, Hard of Hearing Clint, Bondage/Shibari/Tied to Chair Summary: He’s just so… so vulnerable like this. Especially when Bucky had spread his legs open to tie them to the chair. Word count/format: 2207
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Title: 32557038 Creator(s): (HR)tftcw Link: ao3 Square: C5 - Dyin' Ain't so Bad Rating: Mature Ship(s): Bucky-centric or Bucky/Steve Warnings: Blood, Injury, Whump, vomiting, Major tags: Torture, PTSD, Prisoner of War, Suicidal Thoughts Summary: A glimpse into Bucky's time in captivity after Azzano. Word count/format: 1573
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Title: bleed for you Creator(s): (HR)tftcw Link: ao3 Square: B4 - AU - Sports Rating: Mature Ship(s): Bucky/Steve Warnings: Blood/Injury Major tags: Underground fighting, Open/Ambiguous Ending, Guilt, Violence Summary: The bloodied knuckles mock him, a reminder that Bucky fights for him. Word count/format: 943
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Title: Childhood Friends Creator(s): Caiti Link: tumblr Square: K3 - Pic of Bucky Barnes carrying gun and walking down a hall Rating: Teen Ship(s): Bucky Barnes & Steve Rogers Warnings: Mood boards Major tags: Mood boards Summary: “The best mirror is an old friend.” — George Herbert Word count/format: Mood board
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Title: Fire and Smoke Creator(s): Caiti Link: tumblr Square: Y5 - Power Swap Rating: Mature Ship(s): Bucky/Darcy Warnings: Implied NSFW Major tags: Mood boards, Alternate Universe Summary: Both of them are trained elementals, under the House of Flame - her with the spark and he with the smoke. In their bonding, they found the ability to combine, share, or swap abilities … but only if one chose to surrender to the other. Word count/format: Mood board
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Title: Animal Shelter Creator(s): cable-knit-sweater Link: ao3 Square: B1 - Visiting the Vet Rating: Teen Ship(s): Bucky/Steve Warnings: N/A Major tags: Established Relationship, Bucky is always picking up strays, Alpine, Fluff Summary: Walking home after a date night, Steve and Bucky stumble upon a cardboard box with abandoned kittens. Bucky’s never been able to let a stray fend for itself when it needs him. Steve is proof of that. Word count/format: 1132
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Title: Mr wannabe Superman. You don’t have superpowers. You are not immune to the cold Creator(s): Laevateinn Link: tumblr Square: K2 - Told you so (swapped) Rating: Gen Ship(s): Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes Warnings: None Major tags: Moodboard, Drabble, Modern AU, Fluff Summary: "“No no, it’s fine. It’s not that cold, he said. Not worth going back just to grab a scarf, he said.” Bucky turned around, put his left hand on his hip and pointed at Steve with his right. “See? Told you so. Mr wannabe Superman. You don’t have superpowers. You are not immune to the cold.”" Word count/format: 100
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Title: Riddle of Your Heart Creator(s): LBibliophile Link: tumblr Square: C2 - "What did you do?" Rating: Gen Ship(s): Bucky Barnes / Tony Stark Warnings: na Major tags: Snow Queen AU, pre-relationship, drabble Summary: Bucky doesn't have to love him back, but something is wrong. Tony will fix it. Word count/format: 100
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Title: War on Leisure Creator(s): lillywillow Link: tumblr Square: B1 - Interrupted by Supervillains Rating: Teen Ship(s): Bucky/ Gender Neutral Reader Warnings: mild angst/ mild adult suggestions Major tags: Mild angst Summary: All Bucky wants to do is to relax and spend some alone time with you but for some reason, all the bad guys of New York attack within very short times of each other Word count/format: 1081
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Title: Apologies Creator(s): LBibliophile Link: ao3 Square: K5 - "It's not your fault" Rating: Gen Ship(s): Bucky Barnes & Tony Stark Warnings: na Major tags: CA:CW aftermath, guilt and forgiveness, Tony Stark's parents' death Summary: In the aftermath of CA:CW, Bucky and Tony have built a tentative truce. But as a certain anivresary approaches, a different apology is due. Word count/format: 560
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Title: Sam dragging Bucky on social media - Part 1 Creator(s): rebelmeg Link: tumblr Square: C2 - image of Bucky from Endgame Rating: Gen Ship(s): Bucky & Sam Warnings: none Major tags: social media post, roomies, arm check Summary: Sam makes a post on social media about Bucky's penchant to forget his arm. Word count/format: social media post edit
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Title: Stucky Pumpkin Family Creator(s): Girl Back There Link: tumblr Square: C3 - Free Space Rating: Gen Ship(s): Bucky/Steve Warnings: None Major tags: Pumpkin Carvings, Stucky Family, Spoopy Season, Digital Art Summary: The whole family is represented for the spoopy season! Word count/format: 0
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Title: Arm Repair Creator(s): nolanfa Link: tumblr Square: K3 - Tony Stark's Workshop Rating: Gen Ship(s): Tony Stark & Bucky Barnes & DUM-E & JARVIS Warnings: None Major tags: Arm repair Summary: Human interaction? Uuuuh, that's a no. Word count/format: 1 digital art + 514 words
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Title: Flawed Hypothesis - Chapter 8 (Epilogue) Creator(s): Faustess Link: ao3 Square: K1 - Newspaper Clippings Rating: Mature Ship(s): Stuckony Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, non-standard A/B/O ‘verse Major tags: Post Avengers 2012, Canon Divergent, non-standard A/B/O ‘verse, alternating POV, Hidden Identities, Canon Divergence, Implied Sexual Summary: Content Fic Summary: What everyone knows about three members of the Avengers may not be the truth. Chapter 7: (Epilogue ) The "news" never rests and there's nothing more gossip-worthy than the much publicized Barnes-Rogers-Stark nuptials. Who's getting cold feet? Will those raunchy pics leaked on the dark web put their happiness in jeopardy? Just whose jealousy is out of control? Could this be why Clint's leaving the Avengers? Wait - what?! All this and more inside - and as always, our sources are completely Candid. Word count/format: Moodboard (Fic is 702 (Ch8) 7617 (entire fic)
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Title: Hush Creator(s): LBibliophile Link: tumblr Square: B5 - Only one bed Rating: Gen Ship(s): Steve Rogers & Bucky Barnes Warnings: na Major tags: Drabble, recovering Bucky Barnes, (in the sense of retrieval as well as healing) Summary: Steve takes a quiet moment to appreciate what he has won, and offers a promise in return. Word count/format: 100
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Title: Firestorm Chapter 14 Creator(s): scottxlogan Link: ao3 Square: U1 - Accidental Marriage Rating: Explicit Ship(s): Bucky Barnes/Tony Stark Warnings: Violence, Sexual Content, Nightmares and blackouts Major tags: Explicit Sexual Content, Mistaken Identity, From Sex to Love, Misunderstandings, Murder Mystery, Canon Divergence Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe-Firefighters, Light Angst, Swearing, Arson Summary: Bucky's past comes back to haunt him at the worst possible time and takes him down an unexpected journey into the unknown with surprising results. Word count/format: 10239
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Title: Enemy Mine Creator(s): Holylulusworld Link: tumblr Square: C4 - Enemies to lovers Rating: Mature Ship(s): Biker!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader Warnings: implied smut, sexual harassment Major tags: bucky barnes, biker bucky barnes, biker au Summary: Your neighbor is more than a loud biker... Word count/format: 1,7 k
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Title: Fanfic Creator(s): Metalbvcky Link: ao3 Square: Adopted - KINK: Kitchen Sex Rating: Explicit Ship(s): Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes Warnings: None Major tags: Canon Divergence, Cabin Fic, Smut, Kitchen Sex, Humor Summary: After a long mission, Steve and Bucky spend some quality time together during their cabin getaway. Word count/format: 1657
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Title: Monster (Hunter) Stories - Chapter4: Saving Stranger Darcy Part 2 Creator(s): MuffinEngineer86 Link: ao3 Square: Y1 - Protectiveness Rating: Teen Ship(s): Darcy Lewis/Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes Warnings: Blood drinking, witchcraft, biting, violence, attempted kidnapping, poisoning, vomiting Major tags: Supernatural AU, vampire, spider powers, orcs, fae, werewolves, monster hunter, tiny Steve, Pre-Serum Steve Summary: Steve had brought Darcy into safety, but she still wasn’t out of the woods. He did everything he could to save her, but she needed blood. And his boyfriend, Bucky, had blood. Bucky just wanted to get home without dealing with his witch's drama. Word count/format: 1883
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Text
~Metal Family headcanons~
These are like my... general hcs)? which means I didn't include my main hc that Glam, Ches and Vicky are polyamorous, married and started dating after Glam met Vicky, and absolutely everything that implies for the kids and the relationships between each member of the fam. Maybe I'll make a separate post for that or maybe not! Who knows lkfwnlfqnf
Glam
Bisexual
Glam has constant nightmares and ocasional night terrors ever since he ran away home and is an active sleep walker. Ches helped him through the worse ones when they were younger, and learned how to deal with them, always preferring not to wake him up but being with him until the episode passed. Vicky has learned how to deal with them, though she normally asks Ches for advice with it cuz she comes out short sometimes.
He has PTSD. I bet it's diagnosed too, he takes medication and goes to therapy, it doesn't mean he still doesn't have his bad days anyway. He's trying to get better.
Glam has talked to Vicky about his past, his father and his family. This is a direct contradiction of Alina's confirmation that Glam doesn't talk about it with anyone but man FUCK THAT. We love good communication in this house, Vicky tries her best to help him, but there's only so much she can do to help.
Glam enjoys gardening, cooking and making models, he also likes doing his make up, painting his nails and dressing up in fancy, extravagant clothes even if he has nowhere important to go.
He likes taking care of everyone's hair, and constantly helps Vicky brush her hair cuz there's so much of it, Dee when he gets stressed over how tangled it can get, buys Ches hair products so he actually takes care of it, and chases Heavy so the kid actually washes, untangles and brushes his hair.
This one is kind of weird, but I refuse to think any adult in the family is unarmed at any time. Glam owns a taser and pepper spray. They're bright pink and sparkly.
This man cried his eyes out while watching Coco. He's hell to watch movies with cuz he talks and predicts what's gonna happen during the movie, judges them with scores at the end and all.
Vicky
Also bisexual!
Vicky's the one who does everyone's laundry most of the time. She prefers it that way since she's the only one that knows how to wash their black clothes so the colors stay vibrant. (This is based on my gf shaming everyone but Vicky cuz their black clothes always look so muted and almost gray, but Vicky's whole outfit is always the same vibrant black colors, so we decided that neither Glam or the kids know how to wash dark clothes)
She has anger issues, if it isn't obvious. I think she also has PTSD, mainly survivor's guilt due to her surviving the accident her brother died in. She blames herself and cannot bear to talk about it, in some sort of deep denial. If she can't remember, it can't hurt as much, right?
She has scars on the right side of her back and her hip, from the road rash she got on her brother's accident, she never treated it due to grief and it scarred badly. Apart from that, the scar of the caesarean section from Heavy's birth. She doesn't really mind both of them, they happened, nothing to do about them.
She likes watching boxing competitions, brawling matches and motorcycle repairing on TV. Loves doing BBQ's and going to the pool. Also an enjoyer of teasing her kids, kissing and loving her husband at random times, spending time drinking and bonding with Ches and bragging about her family and punching anyone who thinks they're not that cool.
Not particularly a fan of make up, skirts and dresses or any traditionally femenine-perceived stuff. But has been making exceptions due to Glam and Ches being unashamed of being seen as femenine, and actually rocking the looks. The internalized misogyny is kind of slowly dissapearing.
Apart from the guns she carries in each arm (I mean her biceps, have you looked at the size of those?? She strong) she has brass knuckles on her at all times. Glam gifts her new ones sometimes, she loves having multiple choices to punch people teeth in.
Loves horror, thrillers and action movies. Falls asleep during rom-coms and dramas. Ironically, loves gossip and talking shit about people. Enjoys hearing Ches talks about the gossip going on in the nursery home even if she doesn't know who the hell he's talking about.
Rest of the family under the cut!
Heavy
Heavy is a trans boy! He doesn't know his sexuality yet though, he's still figuring himself out. When he's older, i think he definitely dated some men but had better luck with girls.
Heavy has had innocent crushes on some girls on his class before, but they never turn into anything more cuz he's not the best at expressing himself. He follows the bother-the-girl-to-death-until-she-hates-you gimmick, and unsurprisingly, it doesn't work.
I'm sorry to break this to u but Heavy totally had an among us phase, and uses so much reddit and twitch slang... You know he does.
Likes bullying and teasing his brother to death. You know that when Dee had his first romance, Heavy was ALL up in his business being a tease and a bad attempt at a wingman. He means well tho.
He's not squeamish at all. Also has great pain resistance. This kid has picked cockroaches with his bare hands and loves cats, of course the cats have scratched him. He's tough!
Grows up to be the charming himbo he was always destined to be.
Dee
I hc him as demisexual. Kind of inherited his dad's tastes for the takes no crap, intimidating but pretty kind of people.
Can't cook. He tries but he can only do basics like rice, cereal, chicken nuggets or eggs. Complicated meals always burn or don't taste like anything at all. It drives him crazy.
Dee was a quiet and very well behaved toddler before Heavy was born. He never threw tantrums or got whims. After Heavy was born though, and despite the fact he understood his brother was small and needed special care, he started craving attention often and cried and got mad at little things. Typical jealousy of the oldest sibling.
The first time Dee fell in love with someone, he didn't recognize it was love at first. He just thought his interest on the person was born out of curiosity and aesthetic attraction, but as soon as he realized he seeked validation and companionship, that he liked seeing them smile, that he wanted to protect them, that he yearned for more time alone with them and that he wanted more than what just a simple friendship implied, it was an instant 'oh hell no'. He wanted those feelings to get the hell away, but unfortunately, they were there to stay.
Canonically likes MLP, psychological and horror anime like Death note and Hellsing, so I'm deciding he also watched Death Parade, had a FNAF phase, is very into The Walten Files. This guy enjoys any kind of specially dark ARG's and knows a ton of lore of real crime, unsolved cases, ghost appearances and other stuff. Doesn't believe in the supernatural, but sure is entertained by it.
He's a mess at romance. Flirting? His attempts at compliments are hardly flattering. Giving gifts? The best he can manage is jewelry and you can kind of tell he asked his dad for help. Dates? He's so nervous he's silent for most of it, but begins getting comfortable and having fun if his partner really knows how to get him down from his negativity cloud.
Ches
Pansexual.
He's very good with kids. He has the patience of a saint and he's laid-back, chill and fun but still is an authority figure who knows how to put limits. Sure, he's gonna let the kids light up a house on fire BUT hey, now they know everything about fire precautions, burns and how to treat them AND how to get away with arson. What an educational evening, am I right?
Due to certain info from the "Goodbye" official comic, I headcanon Ches as depressed. I don't want to elaborate a lot 'cuz of spoilers, but... God, everything related to his mom fucking hurts, man. How did he deal with all that?
Ches has been Dee and Heavy's babysitter so many times he cannot count them with all his fingers. He learned how to put those kids to sleep almost immediately (Sing Bon Jovi's "This ain't a love song" and any cheesy love song in a slow lullaby style and they're out), which movie were their favorite as kids (Heavy loved 'Monsters Inc.' and Dee never looked away during 'Meet the Robinsons'), how to console them after nightmares (Heavy needed reassurance, sweet words, and to be with someone until he fell asleep again. Dee just had to be tucked in, get his nightlight turned on and kissed in the forehead). He practically raised those kids along with Vicky and Glam.
More than once, Dee and Heavy have slipped and called Ches "Dad". Ches immediately gets his shit eating grin on and answers "Yes, son?" and does a couple of dad jokes just to mess and embarrass them. He's actually very flattered and surprised at how proud of himself he is for being a father figure to both kids.
Has a scar on the left side of his forehead due to a bottle his mom threw at him when he was younger, around the time he met Glam. He hates the scar with passion, it's a permanent reminder of the fact she never cared, that's why he always keeps it covered with his headband. Gets sad about it sometimes.
Ches likes to spend his time with a group of grannies of the nearby nursing home. He genuinely considers them his friends and gossips and hangs out with all of them on weekends. Bingo, billiards, walks in the park, soap opera marathons, you name it. I even designed them, gave them names and backstories... God, i just love the concept too much. I'll make some art about Ches and his granny gang FOR SURE, you're NOT ready for them.
Carries a pocket knife on him at all times. This man grew up on a bad neighborhood and absolutely knows how to defend himself, he can be intimidating when he wants to be and will pose a threat if needed. He's fucking terrifying when genuinely mad. Just cause he looks harmless doesn't mean he is, darling.
That would be all!
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ohmycenchaheart · 3 years
Text
Came across these headcanons that I’d written post the finale because I refused to accept the show ending like that. I refuse to believe that after everything they’ve gone through, Cha Young and Vincenzo cannot be together. Sorry PJB, but that’s not happening (even if it was sorta realistic and brilliant). Anyway. This is what I’d have loved to see play out. 
Homecoming
It happens on one of their game nights. Game day became game night because Cha Young often has trials at the court these days.
They’re playing Mafia again. Of course they are. And when Cha Young ends up as the Mafia, she thinks momentarily of a compliment, indulgently given over cups of Makgeolli, that maybe she truly did believe in the Mafia.
Their game is interrupted by the arrival of two of Geumga Family’s honorary members — Ahn Gi Seok and Cho Young Woon, who are lovingly welcomed with hugs and pats on the back. Because it’s not often most of the family gets to be together (most and not all, because one of them is always missing).
“Well, my old-looking hoobae and I were wondering if there’d be room for three more players at tonight’s game night…” “Yah, Ahn gun, we’ve been the ones drinking, but it seems you’re the one who is drunk,” says Mr. Tak. Upon which, Mr. Cho adds, “Ahh, you see, we brought an old friend along.”
And it is then a familiar voice greets them. “Annyeonghaseyo.”
To say that the Geumga Plaza family collectively loses it would be an understatement.
Mr. Nam is the first to tackle Vincenzo with a hug and his trademark “Byeonhosa-nim!”
Cha Young stands at the back, elated and trying to process if this is really happening, while Vincenzo gets hugged by the rest of the family. With a knowing smile, Yeon-Jin reassuringly squeezes Cha Young’s arm, while her husband gushes over Vincenzo, and others wait their turn to hug the now returned man.
When it is her turn for a hug, no one misses on how Vincenzo is the one to initiate the hug. No one even remarks on the soft look both their faces sport, or how their hug lasts a few seconds longer than the others’.
And then game night isn’t game night anymore. Over Tteokbokki and beer, Mr. Cho and Mr. Ahn reveal how they worked it all out, using their agency and the guillotine file to clear Vincenzo’s name and let him come back. On Vincenzo’s part, he still has his secret island, but he has moved his Italian family somewhere safe, and left someone very capable in charge. It’s not that he has changed his ways, no, he is still the man he was when he left. It’s just.. it was about time he returned home to his family.
The three also let the plaza people know how well Han Seo has been recovering after undergoing numerous surgeries, and how they hope he will be joining them back in Seoul after completing his rehabilitation therapy abroad. Mr. Nam wonders if that means they’ll be getting a new intern at Jipuragi sometime soon.
When Hee Soo accidentally drops her napkin and bends down to retrieve it, she catches the two lawyers holding hands under the table, while being the perfect picture of nonchalance. She smiles and doesn’t say a word.
When the family has finally finished catching up, and sleep gradually takes over them all, the group decides to disperse.
Before leaving, Mr. Lee and Yeon Jin let Vincenzo know what time his goddaughter will be awake the next day, so that he can finally meet her.
Cha Young and Vincenzo make their way to the footbridge (a place where some of their fondest memories linger still despite all the time that has passed) because there’s something Cha Young has to let him know: she might have (read: definitely has) taken over his old apartment.
It was honestly a matter of convenience, nothing else. For those days when work makes her put in longer hours, and it’s easier to sleep at the apartment rather than going back all the way home. Plus, she already had the spare key and it was easy to negotiate with Mr. Cho (who didn’t charge her a penny for the place, as if he’d dare). It had nothing to do with the fact that on days when Cha Young found herself missing him more than usual, curling up in this apartment brought her comfort. With all his things still there, sometimes it felt as if he hadn’t left.
But of course, Vincenzo already knows all this. Mr. Cho had already filled him in.
And so they make their way to the apartment 606. It still is sparsely furnished like the way it was when he lived there, but there are a few new additions. His couch has more pillows and a soft throw blanket. His living room table is littered with case files and a familiar bunny massage stick. In the kitchen there are boxes of ramen and instant coffee mix, and cartons holding makgeolli bottles. In his bathroom, there’s an extra toothbrush and a small make up bag by the sink. Bottles of shampoo and perfume and soap that smell like her now stand next to his old toiletries. It makes him smile because it feels he never left, like they’ve been living here together in this tiny apartment all this while, his world and hers mixing together. He won’t admit how many times he’s dreamt of this -- just them and the life they’ve made together.
When he enters his room, he finds half his closet space is taken over by her “emergency wardrobe”... And it seems his old Booralro sleepwear has somehow made its way to her pile of clothes. In Cha Young’s defence, despite looking silly, that silky nightshirt is ridiculously comfy, and it’d be such a shame if she let a limited edition piece of work go to waste. That she kept it because it reminds her of him remains unsaid.
The one addition Cha Young has made to the apartment that Vincenzo loves the most is in his room. Atop the dresser, next to all his lighters and Inzhagi’s bird food, are three photo frames. The first has a picture of him and his mum. The second is the portrait of the two of them with Cha Young. And the third is the picture from their fake proposal that the art gallery had emailed them. It’s funny how, despite spending all that time together, this was the only photo they had together. Vincenzo thinks it’s time they change that.
They both stand by the window, and when Inzhagi finally comes by to say hi to his old friend, Cha Young is reminded of a Shakespearean quote — Journeys end when lovers meet — because lets be real, Vincenzo’s true love is this pigeon. Vincenzo is highly offended when Inzhagi shows preference to the bird food Cha Young has laid out for him, and not the one Vincenzo has to offer. Guess Cha Young’s diligent feeding of the bird during his absence has secured her a new friend.
Given the late hour, it only makes sense that Cha Young sleep over. And traditions must be continued, so some ramyeon is made (this time it’s two servings because no matter what Cha Young says about not wanting ramyeon, Vincenzo remembers his lesson all too well) and bottles of Makgeolli are consumed.
The two wake up the next morning, all tangled up on the living room floor, in the space between the couch and the coffee table (that is now pushed aside). And despite the uncomfortable floor, it’s the soundest sleep they’ve both had in the last year and half.
But they need to wake up soon and head out. First stop coffee, a quick check up on their gold,  and then to meet his goddaughter over whom he has promised to look after. And after that, a quick stop to their old Bungeoppang stand (if it’s still there) and a drive to where their parents now rest.
This, Vincenzo thinks as he holds an asleep Cha Young in his arms, is what it means to finally be home.
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sequinsmile-x · 3 years
Text
Day-to-Day
Emily is the glue that holds the family together, aka five times the Hotchner family needed Emily.
A story in the “5 times + 1″ format.  
Part of the Whatever Tomorrow Brings universe.
Chapter 1 - Amelia. 
Read on AO3 via this link, or below the cut
March 2010
Aaron wakes to his bed being empty. He rubs his eyes, trying to remove the last remnants of sleep, and he turns to check the alarm clock, groaning when he sees it’s 3am. He touches the other side of the bed and feels that the sheets are cold, indicating that his wife had been gone for some time. Amelia had been off the evening before, their usually happy baby grouchy and sleepy. Which was always the first sign that she was coming down with something. Theo had been ill the week before, a bug he’d picked up from school, and Aaron had naively hoped they’d managed to avoid it being passed on to the youngest Hotchner.
He sits on the side of the bed and spots light filtering out from under the ensuite door. He walks over, opening the door to find his wife laying back in the bath, Amelia dozing on her chest. Emily looks tired, a small smile on her face when she spots him. “Hey.” She rasps out, staying quiet so she doesn't wake their daughter.
“Hey, sweetheart.” Aaron walks in and kneels on the floor next to the bath. “Everything ok?”
“She woke up about an hour ago, she had a fever. I thought a lukewarm bath might bring it down, but she started to cry every time I tried to put her in here herself.” Emily says gently, placing a hand on Amelia’s forehead. “It’s come down a bit.”
“You should have woken me up.” He says, placing a hand on their daughter's back. “I’d have helped.”
“It’s ok, honey.” She says placing her hand over his. “You need your sleep, work has been rough on you lately.”
“Right.” He says, with a raised eyebrow. “Because your job is a piece of cake.” Aaron links their fingers and runs a thumb over her knuckles. “You don’t have to do it all on your own anymore, Em. I’m here now. We’re all here.”
She purses her lips together and nods at him. It was still her instinct sometimes to try and do it all by herself, especially anything to do with the kids. Memories of those months spent alone waiting for Foyet to be stopped were sharp, and sometimes it still took her breath away. How close they had come to losing everything.
“Can you take her?” She asks softly. “She should be fine for now.”
“Of course.” He lifts the toddler off of his wife's chest and wraps her in a towel. Amelia wakes almost immediately, grumbling at being removed from her mother. “Let’s go get you dressed sweetie.”
He takes Amelia to the nursery and puts a fresh diaper on her, and a thin sleepsuit. He frowns at the warmth still on her skin, and soothes her when she starts to cry again. “I know what you want, you want Mommy.” He lifts Amelia into his arms and kisses her forehead. “I don’t blame you, I always want her when I feel sick too.”
Emily is already in bed dressed in one of his shirts when he walks back into their bedroom. Amelia immediately reaches out for Emily, the little girl's face already scrunched up as she cries. He passes Amelia over, lets his wife take him into her arms. “Mama.”
“You’re ok, sweet girl.” Emily says, running a hand over the back of her daughter’s head. She kisses her forehead and frowns. “It’s gone down, but she’s still warm.”
“We’ll call the doctor if she’s still got a temperature in the morning.” He says. Emily nods, settling Amelia so she is resting against her chest. The little girl's favorite place to sleep when she was sick or sad. “Sweetheart, you aren’t going to get any sleep if she’s in here.”
“I know.” She replies, soothing the small coughs coming out of Amelia by rubbing her back. “I’ll get someone to drop some case files and paperwork here tomorrow, work from here until she’s better.”
“And if you get a case?”
She glares at him. “Then I’m sure the team can handle it without me. It’s not like they haven’t before.”
“Sweetheart-”
“I’m not leaving her if she’s sick, Aaron.” She says, her voice firm. “She only settles for me if she’s sick and I’m not putting either of you through that.”
He knew his wife somehow felt responsible for his delicate relationship with his daughter. Things were better now, so much better, but he couldn’t say it didn’t hurt when Ameila, or any of their kids, immediately reached for Emily when something was wrong. The six months they had spent alone together had formed a bond he loved, but that he was also, in his worst moments, jealous of.
He wants to argue, wants to say that eventually something would happen with one of the kids when she wasn’t there, but he knows this isn’t the time. That it can wait until it isn’t almost 4am and she has their feverish daughter pressed against her.
“It’s a good thing your boss is so understanding.”
Emily smiles at him. “Well, I do repay his understanding with blow jobs so I think it’s earned.” _________________
May 2024
Ameila was Emily through and through. It was something Aaron, and just about everyone they knew, said frequently. She looked like Emily. She had her nose, her dark eyes and hair, and the same smile that had always been able to convince Aaron to do just about anything. Amelia had inherited her fathers jawline and his seriousness, her frown, a pure ‘Hotch’ look that Penelope had often joked would serve her well in whatever she decided to do in the future.
She also had Emily’s attitude. A need to know everything, to push all the boundaries around her, that often drove Aaron to the edge of his sanity in a way neither of his sons ever had. Elizabeth often commented on how similar Amelia and Emily were, and he never missed the way she smirked at him when she said it.
Emily was fiercely protective of Amelia. Aaron knew it was because their daughter was the only one of their kids who didn’t remember the incident with Foyet. She was so small when it happened, only a few months old when her family was torn apart by the actions of a psychopath, and they were grateful for it. Jack and Theo still bore the scars of what happened, years of therapy had done them wonders, but it still surfaced at times, almost unexpectedly. Leading to Theo calling in the middle of the night, the now 21 year old plagued by nightmares that his mother was dead, only calmed down by the sound of her tired voice over the phone.
The first time Amelia really pushes the boundaries with her parents is when she comes home one day with her nose pierced. The ring in her nose was massive, big enough to allow for the swelling that would follow, drawing her parents attention to it immediately.
“What the hell is that in your nose?” Aaron asks, annoyance clear in his tone.
“It’s a nose ring, Dad.” Amelia answers, her eyes rolling as she hangs her keys up. “I got it done after school.”
“And who said you could do that?”
“It’s my nose. I didn’t realise I needed permission.”
“Ok.” Emily interrupts, placing a hand on her husband's arm to try and diffuse the situation. “I think what your dad is trying to say is that you should run this stuff past us, ok?”
Amelia scoffs. “Well it’s your nose I inherited, surely you understand why I wanted to do something to it.” She walks past her parents and goes up the stairs before the conversation can go any further. “I have homework.”
_________________
Aaron walks into their en-suite later that night to find Emily standing in front of the mirror scrutinising her appearance. He leant against the doorframe and watched as she turned her head side to side, running her finger down the slope of her nose. Her eyebrows furrowed as she looked at herself straight on again, her finger pressed into the tip.
“Em?”
She turns to look at him, taking her hand away from her nose as she does. He doesn’t miss the shy look on her face as she wrung her hands together. “Do you think my nose is weird?”
He frowns at her. “What? No.”
“I know it’s ridiculous. I’m 53 for fuck sake.” She mutters to herself.
He kisses the tip of her nose and she smiles at him. “You’re beautiful.”
“And you’re ridiculous.” She wraps her arms around him anyway, pulling him in for a kiss. “It will look better when she can switch to a smaller ring.”
“It will look better when she just takes it out.”
Emily laughs, shaking her head at him. “Come on, let's go to bed. Some of us have work in the morning.”
He raises an eyebrow at her as he always did when she referred to his early retirement, even though it had been years since he left the FBI. “Whatever you want, sweetheart.”
_________________
The casual mention of a boyfriend, a boy from Amelia’s art class called Chase, almost sends Aaron orbital. He manages to keep his opinions to himself until Amelia has gone to bed and he’s just in the kitchen with his wife, helping her with the dishes even though it was long ago established as her chore since she never cooked.
“She’s not that bad, Aaron.”
He scoffs at his wife. “She’s going to make me go grey.”
“Honey. Amelia is a teenage girl. A pretty well behaved one in comparison to what I was like.”
“Suddenly I feel a lot more sympathy for Elizabeth than I ever have before.” He mutters as he continues to put dishes away.
“What was that?” She raises an eyebrow at him.
“Nothing, sweetheart.”
She narrows her eyes at him as she passes him another plate, patting his cheek with her spare hand. “You’re already grey, Aaron. It’s got nothing to do with the fact our daughter has a boyfriend. Or a nose ring.” _________________
Emily finally loses her cool two weeks later. They are eating dinner, just her, Amelia and Aaron, when she spots something on her daughter's wrist as she reaches for more salad. Emily grabs Amelia’s arm and pulls her sleeve back slightly to reveal a, admittedly very small, heart tattoo onto her daughter’s wrist. It was crude, slightly wonky and clearly not a professional one.
“What the hell is this?” She asks, staring her daughter down.
Amelia tears her arm out of her mother’s grasp and pulls her sleeve back down. “It’s a tattoo, Mom.”
“A tattoo? When did that happen?” Emily looks over at Aaron, who to her annoyance looked slightly amused that she was finally reacting like he had been all along.
“We did them at school.” Amelia answers, taking another bite of her dinner.
Emily’s initial reaction of telling her daughter how dangerous that was, how stupid, was drowned out by her overriding fear of who exactly had done this. “What do you mean ‘we’?”
“Chase and I did them. We have matching ones.” Amelia says, looking at her mother with a challenge on her face. “I don’t see what the big deal is Mom, you have tattoos.”
Emily glares at her husband when he chokes out a laugh at that, and he quickly excuses himself from the table. She turns back to her daughter. “Amelia, it really wasn’t very safe to do that. You have to let professionals do this kind of thing.”
Amelia rolls her eyes as she takes the final bite of her dinner. “Whatever.” She gets up from the table, already half out of the dining room before she speaks again. “I need to go FaceTime Chase.”
Emily puts her head in her hands as soon as she is alone. Her daughter was too much like her for her own good, independent and wilful almost to a fault. Emily loved that Amelia was like that, that she was so sure of herself in a way that Emily certainly hadn’t been at her age. She took it as a testament to her and Aaron’s parenting, but right now she was struggling with it. She just wanted to sit Amelia down and tell her that not everyone in the world had her best intentions at heart, and Emily had an increasingly sinking feeling that Chase was one of those people.
She blows out a breath and stands up, starting to collect the dishes from the evening meal. Emily hears her husband re-enter the room. “I’m going to get her some antiseptic cream to put on it. Who the hell knows where they got the needle they did it with from.”
“Emily-”
“She gave herself a matching tattoo with her boyfriend, Aaron.” She says, putting the dishes she had been holding back down on the dining room table. “They’ve been together for 8 weeks.”
He steps towards her and places his hands on her hips. “What was it you told me last week? That it will work itself out eventually.”
“She thinks she loves him, honey.” Emily lamented, allowing her husband to pull her into his arms. “And I know he’s going to break her heart.”
Aaron kisses her. “Sweetheart, we can’t protect her from that.” He kisses her again, cupping her cheek with his hand. “All we can do is be here for her if it happens.”
Emily rests her forehead on his chest. “Now who's being annoying ok about all of this?”
_________________
“This is where I found out I was pregnant with you.” Emily says offhandedly, a wistful smile on her face. It was so long ago now, but she still remembered the joy she had felt when she first saw Amelia on screen. The baby she had always been told she couldn’t have was now this amazing person she couldn’t imagine her life without.
Emily looks at her daughter when she doesn’t get a response, and she stops herself from laughing when she sees how pointedly Amelia is ignoring her. “Oh really, Mom?” She says to herself. “That’s so interesting.”
“Mom, I cannot believe you are doing this.” Amelia seethes, looking at the floor of the clinic they were in. Embarrassment coming off of her in waves. “This is so embarrassing.”
Emily rolls her eyes, and bites back a comment about how if she found birth control embarrassing then she should think twice about having sex. “I just want you to be safe, ok? You’ve got a boyfriend now and whilst I am not exactly delighted at the idea of you having sex.” She says, not missing how her daughter grimaces. “I don’t want you to take any chances.”
“Amelia Hotchner?”
Emily and Amelia look up to see Joanne standing at the door to her office looking expectantly at them. Emily smiles at her, Amelia does not, and the latter sighs as she stands up. She takes a few steps towards Joanne, only pausing when she realises her mother isn’t following her.
“Well you may as well come in. This was your idea after all.” Amelia says, annoyance colouring her tone. Emily sees past it, spotting the way her daughter nervously wrings her hands, fingers digging at her cuticles in a way she had picked up from her.
“Of course, sweetie.” She stands and walks up to her daughter, and guides her into Joanne’s office with a gentle hand on her back.
_________________
“You did what??” Aaron asks, seething, as they get ready for bed side by side in their ensuite. He turns to her, a disbelieving look on his face.
“I took her to get birth control.” Emily answers around her toothbrush, spitting into the sink. She rinses it and places it next to his in the holder.
“Why?” He is glaring at her, and she's suddenly more glad than ever that she hadn’t broached this subject with him until after Amelia had a packet of pills sitting in her bathroom cabinet, with very explicit instructions on the importance of taking it correctly from both Emily and Joanne. “Is she sleeping with him?”
“I don’t even know if she is having sex yet. But you know these things happen. I bought the boys condoms when they were teenagers.” She purposely misses out that she had also bought Amelia condoms, thinking that admission might make her husband's head explode. “I wanted to make sure she takes precautions if she takes that step.”
“She’s 15, Emily.”
“Yeah, and so was I.” She closes her eyes and sighs, turning to look at her husband as she crosses her arms across her chest. She looks at him and bites her lip, trying to figure out what she’s been wanting to say. “Aaron, I just don’t want what happened to me to happen to her.”
Emily can see the moment it registers in his head. The way his brow unfurls, his whole body unclenching as the anger seeps out of him, replaced by concern for her. He takes a step towards her. “Sweetheart…”
She shakes her head at herself, wiping a stray tear away that had fallen at the admission. “She deserves better than that.”
He sighs as he drags her into a hug, one she gladly returns, wrapping her arms around his back. “You deserved better than that too.”
Emily buries her face into his neck, breathes in the scent of him that had comforted her for more than half her life. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” _________________
Three days later it becomes a non issue. Amelia is out with friends, and Chase, leaving Aaron and Emily with the house to themselves.
Emily is sitting in her husband's lap on their couch. His hands up her shirt and his tongue in her mouth, when she hears it. A car door slamming on edge of her consciousness, someone running up the steps of their porch. She pulls back from Aaron, the dazed look on his face surely matching the one on her own. “Did you hear that?” She breathes out.
They hear a key in the door and break apart like they’ve burnt each other, both standing as the front door opens.
Amelia bursts in, tears streaming down her face. She drops her bag at the front door, her school things abandoned in the foyer of their home, and as soon as her eyes land on Emily her face crumbles. The steady stream of tears turning into sobs. “Mom.”
“Amelia?” She closes the gap between them, concern for her daughter overriding anything else, any lingering hopes she had of alone time with her husband gone in an instant. Amelia is in her arms in seconds, clawing at her shirt to try and get as close as possible. She buries her face into Emily’s shoulder and weeps. Emily cups the back of her daughter’s head, and runs her other hand up and down her back. “Oh sweetheart, it’s ok.” She soothes. “You’ll be ok.”
Emily exchanges a concerned look with Aaron over the top of their daughter's head and she shakes her head at him slightly when he takes a step towards them, silently asking him to leave it to her. He understands, just like he always had, and leaves them to it despite wanting to know exactly what has upset Amelia this much.
“Mia, honey.” She says gently, hand still tangled in her daughter's dark hair. She tries to pull back slightly, cupping Amelia’s cheek, but she holds on to her tighter, sobs still tearing out of her throat. “Let’s move over to the couch, ok?”
Amelia nods against her but doesn’t separate herself from her mother at all. Emily carefully guides her over to the couch and sits down. Amelia curls into her, wrapping herself around her in a way she hadn’t done in years. Emily wraps her arms around her, and whispers random words of comfort into her daughter's hair.
“Sweetheart.” She says gently, pulling away enough that she can cup Amelia’s face in her hands. She wipes tears away from her cheeks with her thumbs. “You don’t have to tell me what’s wrong, not until you’re ready, but I need to know if you’re hurt.”
Amelia shakes her head. “Not hurt.” She says, her words choked by her tears. She leans back into Emily, pressing her face into her neck.
“Ok, sweet girl.” Emily says the old nickname, one she hadn’t used since Amelia was 9 and turned her nose up at it, slipping out without thinking. She presses a kiss on her daughter's head. “I’m right here.”
It takes almost 30 minutes for Amelia to calm down, for her sobs to dissipate into sniffs and a hoarseness in her throat as she takes in ragged breaths. “He broke up with me.”
Emily frowns, holding her daughter impossibly tighter. “What?”
“Chase broke up with me.” Amelia says, pulling back so she could look at Emily properly. “He said I was boring.”
Emily covers her reaction to that, keeping her surprise away from her face. Boring was not a word she would have ever used to describe Amelia. She tucks some of Amelia’s hair behind her ear. “I’m so sorry, baby. I know you really liked him.”
Amelia snuggles back down into her, sniffing as she lays her head on Emily's shoulder. Emily runs her hand through her daughter's hair, soothing her as she finishes calming down. “What do you want to do?” Emily asks. “We could get Dad to go out and get Taco Bell.”
Amelia chokes out a laugh but shakes her head. “I think I just want to go to bed.”
“Whatever you want.” _________________
Aaron is pacing their bedroom when she enters it, softly closing the door behind her. He stops and looks at her, an expectant look on his face.
“He broke up with her.” Emily says. “She is heartbroken.” She hears how her own voice breaks as she tells him. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen her like that.” She shakes her head at herself. “The worst thing is when she told me what happened I felt relieved. She’s sitting there absolutely hysterical and I’m relieved?”
Aaron closes the distance between them and hugs her. “You’re a fantastic mom, Em. I won’t let you believe anything other than that.”
She chokes out a laugh, somehow still surprised after all these years that he was able to guess what was really bothering her without her saying it outloud. “You’re a pretty great dad yourself, Mr Hotchner.” Emily lets herself relax in her husband’s embrace for a little longer, she pulls back and looks up at him. “I’m going to go in and sleep with her tonight.”
“Ok, sweetheart.” He kisses her quickly before letting her go so she can get ready for bed. He watches as she pulls on pyjama pants and a soft t-shirt that once belonged to him.
Aaron admires his wife as she takes off her makeup from the day and puts her dark hair up, smiling as he catches sight of some grey flecks that she hates as she twists it into a bun. She never believes him when he says it, but he thinks she's more beautiful now than she was when they first met all those years ago. Emily had always been beautiful, from the 22 year old she was when they first met. Teasing smiles and flirty comments as she coaxed him out to a bar with her.
Emily always lamented aging, wondering where the time had gone. More self conscious now than she had been the entire time he had known her. All he saw in lines on her face that she thought made her look old was all the laughter and joy they’d had over the years. She was softer now, her hips wider, evidence that she had given him two of their children that made him find her even more attractive. The grey flecks in her hair, that he knew she’d get dyed again soon, that showed him just how long they had loved each other.
They had been together 31 years and sometimes Aaron felt every moment of it, every single thing that had happened to them since she kissed him at one of her mother’s events. It somehow also had passed in the blink of an eye, decades gone in seconds and he was still somehow lucky enough to have her by his side.
“You’re staring.” She says, pulling him out of his thoughts with an amused look on her face and a teasing tone to her voice.
He pulls her into his arms again, kisses her cheek, then her nose. Making her laugh as she tries to squirm away from him. “You’re beautiful.”
Emily rolls her eyes at him. “You’re ridiculous.” _________________
Ameila smiles shakily at her mother as she walks into her room. Emily walks over to her bed and climbs in on the spare side, settling down for the night. She lays on her side and looks at Amelia, tucking some hair behind her ear. “How are you doing, sweetie?”
Amelia sniffs, suppressing a sarcastic laugh. “I’ve been better.” She settles into her mother’s side, resting her head on her shoulder. In the darkness of her bedroom, with Emily’s arms wrapped tightly around her, she finally feels like she can admit the truth. “It’s because I wouldn’t have sex with him.”
“What do you mean?”
Amelia closes her eyes as she catches the tone in her mother’s voice, the dangerous edge to it that she was so rarely on the receiving end of. She had only ever really overheard it when she was talking to someone about work over the phone, or one the rare occasion her parents had a full blown row, their angry voices soon turning into other noises that Amelia thanked whoever was listening for the invention of noise cancelling headphones.
“That’s why he broke up with me.” Amela says, feeling tears build back up in her eyes. “Because I wouldn’t sleep with him.”
She feels her mother’s hold on her tighten, and the sharp intake of breath that she takes beneath her head. Emily kisses the top of her head. “You’re ok, sweetheart. Go to sleep.”
Amelia drifts off to the feel of her mother stroking her hair, something she hadn’t had happen since she was younger. She was surprised to realise how much she had missed it, regret for how she had started to rebuff her mother’s affection a few years back building in her chest. “I love you, Mom.”
“I love you too.” Another kiss to the top of her head. “Now get some sleep.”
She falls asleep, completely unaware of how Emily laid awake for hours, anger for a teenage boy she had only met once burning through her veins until she came up with a plan. _________________
Emily wakes in the morning to the sound of Amelia’s door opening. She opens her eyes to see her husband standing there, a takeout coffee holder in his hand, and an unsure look on his face.
She smiles at him as she sits up in bed and beckons him in. He switches the light on, which immediately wakes Amelia, her groans the first indication that she was up.
“Morning, sweetheart.” Aaron says kissing his wife before sitting on the edge of the bed.
“Morning.” She murmurs against his lips, before lifting the coffee she knew was intended for her. Cold brew with enough sweetener in it to rot your teeth.
“You guys suck.” Amelia groans from below the comforter, voice still thick with sleep.
Emily chuckles. “I think you’ll change your mind when you see what your dad has brought you.”
Amelia lifts the comforter from off of her face and shoots up when she sees her favourite frappuccino in her fathers hands. “Dad, you are the best.” She takes a sip and moans, the sugar hitting her tongue. “No wonder Mom has put up with you so long.”
Aaron laughs, glad to see that she seemed her usual self after how devastated she had been the night before. “Are you ok, Mia?”
She smiles at her dad, a shaky thing that was always the first indicator from his wife and daughter that tears were on the horizon. “I will be.” ______________
Emily’s first thought is to set Penelope on Chase. Let her hack into his social media accounts and digitally ruin his life for upsetting her little girl. For trying to pressure her into something she didn’t want to do. She knew Penelope would do it without a second thought. She was the most trusted confidant of all of the younger Hotchner's outside of their parents. Jack had asked for her help planning his over the top proposal to his now wife. Theo had come out to her first, a nervous teenager in her office asking for help on how he could tell his parents. Amelia went to her for advice on everything from boys to elaborate hairstyles, and Penelope gently discouraged her from dying her hair bright purple when she was 13, knowing it would have given Aaron an aneurysm.
Emily was finishing getting ready for work, Amelia already on her way to school, as she started to formulate a text to her friend, a cryptic request to come see her as soon as she got to work, when Aaron snuck up on her in the kitchen.
“You can’t get Penelope to ruin his life.”
Emily jumps, cursing under her breath. “Damn it, Aaron.” She turns to look at him, a sheepish look on her face. “I wasn’t planning on doing anything of the sort.”
“Oh really?” He raises an eyebrow at her. “You weren’t thinking of having her hack all of his social media accounts and freeze his bank account?”
Emily flushes and puts her phone down on the counter. “I can’t just let him get away with it.”
Aaron smiles at her and pulls her towards him with his hands on her hips. “Baby, this is something we have to let her deal with ok?” He kisses her cheek, his smile deepening as she narrows her eyes at him. “No getting Penelope involved.”
“Fine.”
Plan B it was. _________________
Emily is never happier than when she has all of her family in her house. The boys were coming round for dinner, Jack and his wife Sara and Theo and his new boyfriend Zach, someone he had met at college. Theo texted her that morning, a list of strict instructions of things that absolutely couldn’t happen the first time Zach was meeting the family.
She had just let them in, hugging her son fiercely as he walked in and feeling love bloom in her chest when he hugged her back just as tightly, no embarrassment at giving his mother this affection in front of Zach.
She lets him go and turns to the young man standing next to her son. “You must be Zach, I’m Emily.”
He shakes her hand, a nervous smile on his face. “Nice to meet you.”
Amelia bursts into the house, slamming the front door behind her, and immediately breaks the first rule on Theo’s list. “Мама, какого хрена?”
“Не сейчас, милая. У нас гости. И не ругайся.” Emily replies, tilting her head towards where Theo and Zach were standing.
“Ты должен был подумать об этом, прежде чем угрожать моему бывшему парню!”
Zach leans in to Theo, a confused look on his face. “Are they speaking Russian?”
Theo sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he did so, and looks at his boyfriend. “Yes.” He turns to his mother. “Ne pouvons-nous pas le faire? C'est la première fois que Zach rencontre tout le monde.”
Amelia rolls her eyes and Emily smiles at Theo. “Je suis désolé, chérie. On va bien se comporter.”
“Are you speaking French?” Zach asks, looking even more confused at the complete nonchalonce all of the Hotchner’s were showing at the multiple languages being thrown around as if it was nothing. The slight look of amusement on Aaron’s face as he walked into the room. “How many languages does your mom speak?”
Theo grabs his boyfriend's hand and leads him further into the house, away from the rest of the family. “Six. Seven if you include English.” _________________
Emily eyes Sara curiously when she turns down wine with her dinner, a small look passes between her and Jack when she asks for soda instead. Emily shares a similar look with her own husband, a look on his face saying he had spotted what she had too, and she gladly gets an alternative drink for her daughter-in-law.
Amelia sulks all the way through dinner. Rebuffing her brother’s questions about school, a glare fixed on her mother almost the entire time. It’s when she refuses her favourite dessert, cheesecake, that her brother’s interest is piqued.
“Mills.” Theo asks, amusement on his face at his sister’s behaviour. “What’s up with you?”
“Why don’t you ask Mom?” She said, pointedly looking at her mother. “Мама пытается разрушить мою жизнь, вот в чем дело.”
“I did not try and ruin your life, Amelia.” She says, rolling her eyes at her daughter's dramatics. She looks at her sons and their respective partners. “All I did was have a conversation with the boy who made Amelia cry herself to sleep a couple of days ago.”
“Yeah. By explaining that you’re a Section Chief at the FBI, whilst you had your gun and badge on display.” Amelia exclaims.
There was a moment of silence at the table before it descended into laughter, confusion all over Zach’s face on whatever he had walked into.
“Oh sweetheart.” Aaron says, looping his arm around the back of her chair to place a hand on her shoulder. “Not again.”
Amelia frowns, looking at her parents in shock. “Not again? What the hell does that mean?”
“Mom’s crazy, Millie.” Theo says, a laugh bursting out of him.
“Hey, I resent that.” Emily says, sinking back into her chair slightly, glaring at Aaron when he laughs at her and kisses the side of her head.
Jack gives Emily a look with his eyebrows raised before looking back at his sister. “My first ever girlfriend broke up with me the day before homecoming, Mom scared the absolute shit out of her by showing up at her cheerleading practise the following day. She somehow managed to mention that Dad once killed a guy with his bare hands.”
“Your dad did what?” Zach asks, leaning in to Theo who just shook his head. A silent promise that he’d explain later.
“In my defence.” Emily says, crossing her arms across her chest, a slight flush to her face. “This one was really sick at the time and I was pretty sleep deprived.” She says pointing at Amelia. “I wasn’t entirely in control of my emotions, and you were just so sad.”
“She also made me very aware of what she does for a living when Jack and I first moved in together.” Sara pipes up, nothing but amusement on her face when she looks at her mother-in-law. She turns back to Amelia. “I think it’s sweet.”
Amelia shakes her head at them all and turns to Zach. “Run whilst you still can.” __________________
Emily closes the door behind Jack and Sara as they leave, promises of getting together soon uttered in between lingering hugs.
“Mom?”
Emily turns to see Amelia standing behind her, her hands in her pockets as she avoids her mother’s gaze. It’s the calmest she’s looked all evening, any frustration she had towards her and her actions having melted away.
“Look, I’m sorry, Amelia.” She says taking a step towards her daughter. “I know I probably shouldn’t have done that. But you were so upset, and he deserved to-”
Her ranting is cut off by Amelia throwing her arms around her waist and placing her head on her shoulder. “Thank you.”
Emily smiles and hugs her daughter back, kissing the top of her head as she pulls her closer. “You’re welcome, sweetie.”
“I always thought it would be Dad, or Theo or Jack who went after a boy for me.” She says against her mother’s shirt before she pulls away. “At least I can tell any future guys that my mom is crazy.” _________________
Emily turns to lay on her side as Aaron joins her in bed, she smiles at him and pushes some hair off of his forehead before running her blunt nails over his temples, the mix of dark and grey hair rasping as she goes. “When do you think Jack and Sara are going to tell us she’s pregnant?”
A laugh peels out of Aaron before he leans forward and kisses her, pulling back only to press his forehead against hers. “Whenever they are ready.”
Emily shifts so her back is against him and pulls his arm over her waist, sighing when he settles his chest against her. “You’d think they’d learn they can’t hide anything from us.”
He kisses the top of her head and holds her a little tighter. “We’ve got some pretty great kids.”
“We really do.”
“You have got to stop threatening anyone who hurts them though.”
“Sure, love.” She says, pulling his hand up to her lips to kiss his knuckles. “I’ll stop.”
They both know she won’t.
43 notes · View notes
noritoshiikamo · 3 years
Text
driver’s license 
cause you said forever, now I drive alone passed your street [au where suna is a doctor specialized in memory removal and his last patient of the day is his ex]
pairing: suna rintarou + fem!reader genre: pain, angst, doctor!suna + patient!reader tags//warning: medical procedure of mind erasing, slight suicide ideation, alcohol abuse note: the obligatory trio of mine: not well edited, lowercase intended, english isnt my first language im sorry if i murder it. the songs made me brawled i had to write something about it and i just so happened to finish haikyuu
“it’s odd,” he looked up from the computer screen, osamu approached him pointing to the screen, the last name listed in the appointment schedule under dr suna rintarou. please don’t say it please don’t say anything, he begged silently in his head. “she kinda has her name. haven’t heard her name in ages,” osamu shrugged, grabbing his next patient’s files, “want to get lunch later?” the doctor popped in another stick of gum, leaving before suna could even said a word.
funny that osamu said that. that is his girlfriend. he moved the cursor and clicked at the name. the birthplace, the date, her eye colour, the address and her number; it matches everything he ever memorized of her. except they are no longer together. it has been a month since their breakup.
 she’s an architect. not by choice but she likes art. she’s talented and had once held an art show during school’s open day where they met. she didn’t draw him until they started dating, but she had known some of his close friends who was the subject of her drawings. her parents disproved of her ambitious and to compromise, she agreed to take architectural instead. she stopped drawing completely and suna was the only person in japan that has the largest collection of her paintings stuffed in boxes and behind shelves.
 suna rintarou has been a doctor in inarizaki institute for 5 years now. inarizaki institute was different from others. it was the only medical institution that had successfully developed a procedure to remove unwanted memories. he’s one of the qualified doctors for said procedure. he had done the procedure multiple times now, even on his former high school friends and families but never his own girlfriend.
 is it him she’s removing from her memories?
 he didn’t remember how they broke up. maybe it’s because he was too busy. maybe it’s because she had fallen out of love with him. maybe they just couldn’t stand being in each other’s spaces, but it happened so quickly. she moved out from their apartment, returned when he left to clear out her stuff and he just threw himself back to work.
 he did remember how they met. she was the miya brothers’ neighbor. one night when he came to visit them during semester break years ago, they were in their parents’ car with a girl. suna felt like he had recognized but couldn’t think of where or when. “oi, suna,” the window rolled down and asamu called him over, “come in!” despite being weirded out, he entered the back door of the car. “we are teaching our friend how to drive; can you believe it? she’s in our university and can’t drive to save a life.”
 “shut the fuck up, atsumu or i’ll run you over,” she muttered angrily as she moved the driving gear.
 suna saw the stick going down to reverse instead down further and he immediately reached for her hand. the girl startled at the stranger’s sudden touch. “what the fuck are you d-doing?” she choked up.
 “you’re going to reverse into the wall,” he muttered bluntly, pouting his mouth to the gear. grabbing the stick through her hand, he pulled the gear into drive before letting her hand go. the light from the post shined in and he could see red flush on her face as she nodded, “oh okay, yeah d,” she muttered to herself. she started driving. she wasn’t exactly bad; she just needed a lot of practice.
 so he came over every day of his semester break and accompanied them as she practiced her driving.
 “i can drive you home?” she offered on the last night of his break before he returned to school.
 “you don’t have too.”
 “i insisted,” to which suna agreed and she glanced back at the miya brothers, “get the fuck out.” despite their disgruntlement and the it’s my mum’s car argument, she managed to kick them out. it was just two of them together. “so, i know we went to same high school and university. how come we have never crossed path before?” she questioned as she took her first turn. she memorized the roads to his home. suna shrugged as he fidgeted with the corner of the jacket’s zipper, “i played volleyball in high school.”
 she chuckled, “i’ve never watched any sport matches in high school, sorry. anyway, i’m a last year architectural student by the way. are you taking the same course as osamu?” she glanced at him with a smile. his heart skipped a beat. “y-yeah. i’m in my 5th year of medical.”
 “why not volleyball player?”
 “i got bored.”
 she let a soft exhale and shrugged, “fair enough. i took architectural to please my mother so i’m in no position to give any advice.” she slowed down in front of his house before pulling into a full stop. she pulled into parking and pulled the hand brake. she smiled and fist pumped herself, “did you see that? perfect stop!” suna didn’t expect what was going to happen next. he watched out of control as his arm reached out for her face and pulling her close. what he remembered being in control was asking her boldly whether he could kiss her.
her eyes sparkled and she smiled so widely, “yes.”
so, he did.
she moved into his apartment at the end of his graduation. she didn’t get any job for the first few months while he entered inarizaki institute as medical officer. she took commissions online and waited tables while going to a couple of interviews. he saw a decline in her motivation. when suna returned one night, he found her behind the sofa, drunk out of her mind. what spooked him wasn’t the bottles of whiskey on the floor but the stainless-steel paint scrapper she stabbed the canvas with. she could’ve hurt herself. but, putting her into therapy and pulling strings with some of her friends, she recovered, and he got her an interview. suna watched as she dreadfully shoved her portfolios and files into her bag. 
“you’ll be alright,” he reassured, bringing her a cup of coffee. she sighed and pushed her bangs back, “i don’t know, rin. i just don’t feel like getting another rejection after another and then i’ll just spiral into a-” he stopped her rambling with a kiss. he tasted like coffee; she tasted like their toothpaste. every time she tried to pull away, he pulled her back into the kiss and she could feel him laughing against her lips. “this is going to turn into something else,” she whispered between the kiss and he nodded. he was half aroused. she drank the coffee and kissed him one last time. he felt her fingers slipped from his grip. she stood by the door and waved back.
 “see you?” she beamed.
 “always.”
 suna snapped out of his own memory when an alarm blared out. he looked up past the nurses’ counter and saw a patient being pushed out of room B by a couple of nurses. he knew what goes on in that room; he helped in perfecting the procedure. osamu followed soon. he tugged the blue gloves off and shoved them into the yellow bin. “you would not believe who I met in the waiting room?” by the look of his face, osamu already got the feeling that suna already knew. osamu flipped his file and pulled out a pen. he signed the bottom of the pages and dumping it in the completed pile. “did she tell you?” suna asked.
 “about?” the other doctor asked.
 “the memories she’s erasing. did she tell you?”
 osamu shook his head and pocketed his hand in the white coat. “she asked about you. whether you’re around. i said yeah, he’s on call and she just smiled.” suna stood up and grabbed the file. he felt conflicted. osamu stopped the man before he could enter the room. “look man, I’m sorry about whatever happen between you guys and I’m in no position to judge at all.”
 suna shrugged and smiled, “it’s fine. we were just ruining each other.” the other man nodded understandingly before excusing himself. suna wanted to move but his feet felt heavy. he was glued down. room B was just a few feet away, but he couldn’t move. this is it. the end of them.
 he forced himself into the room. standing in front of the panels and monitor, separating him and her was a one-way mirror. she sat on the seat, talking to the nurses in charge. his heart hurts. she had bangs now framing her face. she’s slight thinner and no longer wore the charm bracelet he gave during their first anniversary. the nurse placed a heart-beat monitor on her thumb and attached a couple more of sensors to her brain, forehead, and neck. his monitor lightened up and spitted out the information. this is it. “doctor, she’s requesting of removal of memory from 2009 up to last month,” the nurse’s words went in his ears and out. it’s of him.
 all his own memories flashed through his mind.
 the memories of every kisses, hugs, the late nights and the earliest of days, the coffees, the spilled paints. memories of every tear he ever wiped and for ever meals she had ever cooked. memories of all the paints of him that she had gifted to him and every night she drove down his streets. for every missed calls and unread texts. the way she touched him and the way she made him felt. he felt suffocated.
 how could he ever love someone else?
 “everything is accordingly. you may press the start, doctor.”
 he looked at the flashing button and back to her. she was looking right at him. she might not see him, but she is looking straight at him and she looked so beautiful. a small smile appeared on her lips as her fingers fidgeted nervously. he felt tears prickling his eyes. his fingers brushed against the button and he slowly pressed it. 
 it took them 7 years to build this much of memories together and it took him 3 minutes to erase it clean from her mind.
 she was drowsy and she had tears running down her face. the nurses rushed in after the red light disappeared and green light beamed. the alarm rang. another memory successfully. “I’m okay, I’m okay.” he heard her from the opened door. shutting off the machine, he immediately rushed out for the door, feared that he might bumped into her and lost it. he hid his shaking hands in his pocket and gritted his teeth.
 “doctor?”
 he stopped. the world stopped spinning and he felt lightheaded. the way she called for him didn’t change, the tone and the pronunciation were the same. it was always melodious yet painful. he turned around to see her being wheelchaired out of the room by the nurse. her eyes were slightly red, and her nose were puffy. the nurse passed her a cup of water. she smiled politely, thanking her and took the cup in her hand. she took a sip, coughing at the coldness of the water down her dried throat. it’s the side effect of the procedure.
 “have we met before?” she asked, innocently.
 suna shook his head and smiled weakly, “no, we haven’t.” he turned to the nurse and nodded. before the nurse could ushered her away, she called him out again. 
 with a smile on her face, she waved goodbye, “see you, doctor?”
 “always.”
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mckiingbiird · 2 years
Text
@thebrokenrobin asked:
“I know I said we needed to meet somewhere low key, but Jesus, this place is shady even by Gotham standards. If someone spots you here and recognizes you, they’re gonna think you’re looking for a hooker, just so you know.” The young man in the dark red hoodie murmured as he slid into the dingy booth, his face barely visible under the dim lighting; just a glimpse of black hair falling just above his jaw, and turquoise eyes studying him carefully through the fringe of his bangs. He looked young, early twenties. Not wasting any time, he pulled a file out of his pocket and flipped it open so Harper could take a look. There was a picture of an awkward looking but smiling young teen standing with a few others her own age, with bright brown eyes and long pale blonde hair.
“This is the girl I was telling you about, Cassie, 16. Up until two years ago she had a different name… James Thompson. Her parents were socialites and kicked her to the curb after she came out at 14. She was turning tricks on street corners to get by until I found her and got her a room at a group home run by the Wayne Foundation six months ago, and she started attending school again, getting therapy, she was excited to start HRT and maybe arrange a visit with her estranged cousins. She wants to be an art therapy teacher one day and work with disabled children. She’s a good kid.” He insisted firmly.
The vigilante hesitated and flipped the page. The next photo was a crime scene, a boy around eighteen or so laying in a pool of his own blood, with a large kitchen knife embedded in his chest. “Terry Lockhart, went to Cassie’s former private school. He was found dead outside the home she was staying at. She was covered in blood and hysterical, I haven’t been able to get a moment alone with her but when we spoke on the phone she wouldn’t say what happened.” Another page turned and it showed Cassie standing in an orange jumpsuit, her pretty blonde locks were now a short and choppy bob, as though she’d tried to hack it off with a pair of scissors herself. She looked sad and empty, no makeup, just dull brown eyes staring blankly at the camera for her mugshot.
“She needs help, but because she’s a minor, the state will only let her appointed guardian - a Wayne Foundation foster parent from the group home - or her attorney talk to her. I thought you might be able to reach her because at this point, if she won’t say what happened, she’ll be assumed guilty by default.”
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"It wouldn't be too farfetched, considering half the hookers in this neighborhood have my number on speed dial for when pimps or client decide to forget they're not walking punching bags. And the owner of this particular place owes me a foot-long list of favors so he won't make a peep about seeing me here."
The lawyer turned towards the counter to wave at the owner as he slid into the booth in front of the red-hooded figure, the old man giving a somewhat nervous but sincere smile in return. Harper had opted for a more casual wardrobe than his usual suits, just a pair of washed-out jeans and a grey jacket with the hood firmly pulled up, although he did push it back once he was seated, revealing ruffled brown hair and bright yet calculating hazel eyes behind a pair of glasses.
"Nice to finally put a face to the voice that's been asking for help. I apologize for my insistence on wanting to meet up in person, but it wouldn't be the first time one of the criminals I've refused to represent tries to lure me into a trap using a potential case as bait, I had to cover all my bases." He leans forward with his elbows on the table, chin resting on his own intertwined fingers as he looked at the hooded figure from over the rim of his glasses "I'm all ears."
His face did not betray a single emotion as he listened to the story, only his eyes giving a glimpse of what he might be thinking, narrowing in annoyance or rage, brightening in interested and dulling in sadness. He was silent for a long moment after the man in the red hoodie finished speaking, eyes lingering on the pictures of the young girl, of her awkward but happy smile and her dull, hopeless expression in the mugshot. Then he reached out with one hand, expertly flipping the folder closed and pulling it towards himself.
"I'll make a phone call in the morning, perhaps even later tonight, I've got a few contacts in foster care that might be of help. Cases are never easy when there are minors involved, but I've faced worse. If things go well, I'll have an interview with young Cassie scheduled first thing tomorrow morning. She's probably scared and unsure who to trust, but I'll do my best to help her out."
He looked up at the young hooded man then, eyes narrowing as if he was trying to analize him through a microscope "You don't strike me as the type that willingly exposes himself, given your reluctance to meet up in person, yet here you are, doing just that. To request help for someone no one else is willing to assist. You're one strange man for sure, Red Riding Hood."
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ad1thi · 3 years
Note
henlo adi tis i with a request for some stevetony fics,,, angsty if you have 'em 💓
okay so this rec list is mainly classic stevetony fics, but i assure you - there’s angsty ones in there (ive marked the angsty ones with a 😞 so you can identify them quicker) just a general note that a lot of authors are going to repeat, because there are some authors that (imo) are stevetony staples (so if you see an author more than once - thats a sign that ALL of their stevetony is good and ive cherry picked the ones i love the most) (ive also marked those authors with a 🌟) 
//
in the light of limerence:  @shell-heads
It's the final game of the season, their biggest one yet, and there's only one question on everybody's mind: who the hell is Captain Steve Rogers' boyfriend, and why does Cap keep dodging questions about him?
"You gotta admit it's suspicious that only Bucky and Sam have met your boyfriend, dude," Clint points out as he shoves Pietro away with a smirk, pulling the uniform over his head and tugging it down. "We've known you, what-two years? We've never seen the guy even once."
"And your phone mysteriously only has pictures of Tony Stark," Johnny Storm adds as he joins the conversation, knocking knees with Thor when he sits down on one of the benches. "Tony Stark, who has at least ten fansites and personally assured me he's had a boyfriend for the past five years."
"I can't believe Cap is actually out here acting like Tony Stark's boyfriend," Luke says with a smirk, resting against a wall without a care.
"I can't believe you guys still think this is a joke," Sam throws back while tossing his other dirty sock at Luke, who dodges it smoothly.
In little more than ten minutes, the biggest question of Shield University is answered with much aplomb by none other than Tony Stark himself.
almeno tu nell'universo: @silkspectred 😞 🌟 (funfact: this is the fic that got me into stevetony) 
Tony drives off.
Well, he wants to.
But he can’t.
Because.
Steve Rogers is in front of his car.
Steve fucking Rogers. Is in front of Tony’s fucking car.
Rookie and Jailbait Take On The World: @theapplepielifestyle 🌟
“You really should be in school, you know.”
“Why would I be there when I could be here, solving crimes with my favourite rookie?” Tony flashes a grin, and Steve’s stomach twists like it did on the first day.
Teenager, Steve’s mind supplies. Definitely not legal, stop doing fluttery things, stomach.
Thumb, Index and Pinky Extended: @/Eudoxia 😞
Tony Stark is twenty-one when he loses his voice. It shouldn't matter, but in a world where the first words your Soulmate says to you are marked on your skin, it can be pretty damn annoying.
I (created from fantasies) exist solely for you: @mizzy2k
Six years ago, without the Avengers Initiative there to save the day, scientist Dr. Eric Selvig sacrificed himself to save the world, the almighty demi-god Thor was lost to a terrible storm, and vigilante Iron Man – spotted with a nuclear weapon trying to take advantage of the situation – was forever labelled an enemy of SHIELD.
This is a comic book office AU, where Steve is defrosted a year too late, Thor has forgotten who he is, and no one knows Tony is Iron Man.
Also includes: office pranks, inappropriate post-it notes, and superheroes who like pina coladas and getting caught in the rain.
Celestial Navigation: @sabrecmc
Celestial Navigation: 18 year old Omega!Tony finds himself Bonded to Captain Steve Rogers. He isn't happy about it until he is.
By request, here is CN in one place without other stories and artwork.
Ironsides: @copperbadge 🌟
Antonia Carter Stark takes no shit and no prisoners.
Paved With Good Intentions (I’m On The Road To Hell): @itsallavengers 😞 🌟
When the mysterious group of vigilante assassins known only as 'The Avengers' are tipped off about the dirty secrets that lie within Stark Industries, Steve Rogers has his heart set on taking out Tony Stark for good in order to protect the rest of the world from his evil. He's seen the footage, after all- Stark is a man who fights only for himself. And of course, when a job arises as chief bodyguard for Stark, to protect him from the growing threat of an ominously infatuated stalker, the opportunity is way too good for him to miss out on. It's the perfect placement, and the perfect way to find out whether or not their tipoff is genuine.
But as Steve falls into rank as the new bodyguard for Mr. Stark and he spends time getting to know and protect him, his initial hatred begins to falter and merge into something different, something far more terrifying than the prospect of killing the face of Stark Industries.
Steve Rogers may just be falling in love with him instead.
The Problem With Communication: @itsallavengers
Steve is terrible at flirting, but when he finally picks up the courage to talk to the adorable barista who makes his drinks, he finds himself hitting a small snag:
That being, Tony is deaf. He doesn't know what Steve is saying.
But never say Steve Rogers does not rise to a challenge.
Killing Me Softly (With His Song): @itsallavengers
Steve is Tony's whole world. Tony couldn't imagine life without him. They've grown up together, after all.
Steve gets cancer.
Open Field In Front of Him: orphan account
Steve Rogers's football season is functionally over after a loss to Rutgers, but he finds a distraction in Tony Stark (yes, THAT Tony Stark). A college AU Stony fic.
Good For You: @orbingarrow 😞
Steve doesn't understand why Tony dates people who abuse him. Tony doesn't understand why Steve cares.
The rest is bad choices, good choices, rehab, milkshakes, paintball, YouTube videos, couples therapy and learning to put the past in the past. Or: How Tony finds his happy ending.
COMPLETE 5/27/16 Edited to add art as last chapter on 6/23/16
Wrapped Up In Clover: @festiveferret
It's been seven years since Steve and Tony split up, and Steve's sure he'll never see Tony again. He's finally managed to put their failed relationship behind him and move on, focusing on his friends and building his business. But then his best friends, Bucky and Clint, decide to get married, and their wedding week at a cabin resort in Vermont turns into a minefield of heartbreak for Steve.
little green soldiers: @/nasa 🌟
“Rhodey,” Tony says. “I’m not stupid. He’s shipping out in three months. I’m not going to fall in love with him.”
Tony is a student at MIT; Steve is a soldier. They meet at a house party six months before Steve is set to deploy. This is their story.
flesh and bone: @/nasa 😞
“You or Rogers?” they ask, brandishing a knife or a gun or a flame.
“Me,” Tony says, over and over again. “Me, me, me,” always me.
Buried: @not-close-to-straight
When Howard Stark demands Tony work at a dig site in S.America one summer to "build character" and "learn about life", Tony is furious. But then he meets soldier/archeologist Steve and falls in love with blue eyes and a perfect smile. 
Just as they are ready to move forward together, Steve leaves abruptly with no explanation and breaks Tonys heart. Ten years later, Tony stumbles across the file for the old dig site. He's determined to visit and shut it down, but discovers that instead of a village, the dig has uncovered a temple and actually needs MORE money to stay open. A security team is hired to protect the staff and the artefacts they find, and Tony comes face to face with Steve Rogers all over again– except Steve is bearded and BIGGER and way more dangerous than he used to be...And Tony likes it.
When the camp is attacked, Steve jumps into action, snatching Tony and running into the jungle to escape and work their way towards safety. But long days and nights together bring back old feelings, and one day Steve takes a risk and asks Tony to give them another chance. Will Tony say yes? Or is his heart buried too far for the soldier-turned- archaeologist-turned-mercenary to find it?
don’t know why it took me so long to see: @3799steps 
“Oh, watch this,” Natasha says, propping her chin against her knuckles and turning a sweet gaze on him. “Tony, what’s it like dating a superhero?”
Tony bristles in irritation. “We’re not dating,” he snaps. “Captain America probably thinks he can get into anyone’s pants just ‘cause he’s got a mask, costume, and reputation, but not me, buddy. That shield? Gotta be overcompensating for something.” He adds, a bit petulantly, “Oh, and all that blue? Definitely more Steve’s color than his.”
- In which Tony is a genius in all matters except recognising his boyfriend past a mask
Heartlines: @nanasekei 🌟
“Let me,” Tony repeats. He regrets it deeply, so much, he wants to stick the words back into his mouth again, and it must show, in the way his voice wavers. He feels exposed, all of a sudden, as if he’s asking something bigger than what he can actually say. Let me touch you, let me take care of you. “Just… Let me do it.“
Feel Whole Again: @thepartyresponsible
Steve turns to leave. It’s easier to talk, somehow, when he’s not looking at him. “If you need anything,” he says, “I’m just a few floors down.”
“Might regret that, Cap,” Tony says to his retreating back. “I’ve been told I’m needy.”
Steve doesn’t know who the hell said that to Tony. It’s probably for the best that he doesn’t.
“It’s an honor,” he says, a little helpless, out of his depth and out of his time. “It’s an honor to be trusted with something like that, Tony.”
Attack Dog: @/salytierra
Steve doesn't swim in self-delusion. He knows that he is sick and that his owner is even worse. He is aware of it every time he rips some nameless guy’s throat out and feels the crunch of bones under his fingers. He is aware of it every time the rush of adrenaline at seeing life slip away from a stranger’s eyes hits him and gets him bothered and panting in ways that have nothing to do with physical exhaustion.
But it feels so good…
His owner’s approach is less personal. His shots fall clean and take out several foes at a time, his figure elegant and so graceful he looks like a god among savages. He is power incarnated, cold and burning like a sun at the same time… and Steve tries not to focus on him when they are fighting together, least his knees go weak and his technique falters. It’s fine though. They will go home afterwards and his owner will fuck him on the hard floor, with most of their gear still on and a vicious grip in his hair.
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rotzaprachim · 3 years
Text
be gentle with the people who were not made from The Fall
- Gen, Declan Lynch &  Mór Ó Corra
2k ao3 here
She passed Declan a blank manilla envelope. He ran his fingers gingerly over the edges, life having long ago built up a healthy suspicion of anything from the channels of the Fairy Market. He couldn’t feel anything, but he’d also never had the touch for it. At some point he’d always ended up having to hold his breath and jump in in order to get the rough work done. 
He slit it open with the knife in his pocket.  
There were answers he’d had before he even knew what the questions were. Firstborn, Niall told Declan. My All-American son, Niall told Declan. When you were born the rivers dried up and all the cows in Rockingham County cried blood, Niall told Ronan. When you were born, I wasn’t here, Niall told Declan. 
The silence swallowed his voice for a long time. 
“Ó Corra?” 
She gave him a look that said, you can’t pronounce your own name. Finally she said, “You have my name. It’s what they did when the father couldn’t be found.” 
He studied the certificate in the small crescents of yellow light that bounced in through the tinted windows of her sports car from the streetlight outside. The Births and Deaths Registation (Northern Ireland) Order 1976, Article 34. Registered in the District of Belfast. 24 July 1997. Declan James Ó Corra.
There was a box that asked for Name and Surname and Dwelling Place of Father (6). It was blank. There was another box that asked for Rank or Profession of Father. On that one, someone had gona back with a red pen at some later point, scrawled angrily, messily, bleeding jaggedly out from the neat black boxes, GONE. 
It made sense, in a strange sort of way that Declan’s brain dimly seemed to recognise in the same way that the drowning man thinks the sun streaming through the surface looks quite nice even when he’s being pulled under. Niall Lynch’s sons. The dreamer son of a dream and the dream of the dreamer the son of a dream. And here now was the odd one out, the liar the son of a lie. 
“I was two years younger than you.” The woman finally said. He couldn’t think of her as anything other than the vague idea digging at the back of his eye turned hard, angry secret when he started to shift through his father’s boxes of crap after death. He’d left a fuckton of a lot of loose threads, although Declan hadn’t thought he’d be one of them. Letters and phone bills from a far-away woman, even a photo or two, all the vitriol and anger he’d carried around bubbling up again acridly through a mirror. Collected in an old file box next to IOU’s and pay me bastard or i’ll fuck you ups in seven different languages, three of which Niall didn’t know how to read. Collected, and never returned. Even some photos of him as a kiddo in a tiny knit sweater. 
“No explanations.” Declan finally said. His voice sounded like when he’d had the lights punched out of him by one of the goons his dad owed rubles, or rupees, or riyals, in the parking lot of a Fairy Market. It could have been all three. “You don’t have to give me one.” I don’t know if I want one, he didn’t say. 
“I’m a very dangerous woman to find, Declan. You wouldn’t have found me if you hadn’t been looking.” 
He didn’t know what he wanted. He wanted safety, although he’d ruled out that as a possibility years ago. He wanted the ones the world had left him to care for to be safe, and he’d jeapordised all that on a wild goose chase to find the woman in one of his father’s fucking dream objects on a hunch of a hunch. He’d done exactly what he’d warned Ronan not to do, relied on himself to be smarter, sharper, more careful. All attributes hard won on his own,  like learning from imitation from a mirror. You see what this who looks like you does? Now do the opposite. 
He sighed. The air bristled, and he realised he sounded a lot like Mór Ó Corra.
“Maybe I-” 
Maybe he hadn’t been angry, almost, to find out. Maybe he’d almost been relieved. A voice to his darkest thoughts saying, you did not dream this up. The part of himself that’d been forced through seven years of Catholic school and then forced himself through a few months of therapy where he couldn’t tell the therapist about any of the things that had most profoundly fucked him up said a good man should have loved any child, regardless. He was about fifteen years past thinking Niall to be a good man. 
“Maybe I spent so many years dealing with all the fucking dreaming, the dreamers and the dreams and every fucking thing that’s come to kill us because Dad couldn’t fix any of his own shit and the fact that none, none of it was ever part of me that I thought I wanted some kind of fucking explanation for it all. I wanted some- some explanation for it all. Why I was different. WHy dad- … WHy dad. I wanted some part of a past that was mine.” Selfish, maybe. Learned. If you spent a lifetime you were different from other people, eventually you came to a wanting a reason for them to be different from you. 
“And you think I’m going to be the dear old Mam who darns your socks and calls to remind you to bring a good girl home to the family?” 
“No. I didn’t ask for that. You know what I asked for.” 
The second Manilla envelope she gave him was far thicker. This time, he could feel the slightest trace of- something. Not a buzzing, not a mist, a- something. He slid it into his briefcase. No expectations. Nothing more. A deal that was a deal, only a birth certificate instead of a handshake. 
“I was two years younger than you. Sometimes life doesn’t hand you many choices. I’d say you didn’t understand, and you don’t, but I’ll also say you’ve been a hell of a lot more of a father than Niall ever was. All the more so since the world’s made you be one.” 
Niall was drunk off some kind of spiked slivovitz when he’d come round to it the first time. Retrospectively, he was probably scared shitless, and rightly so. “Anything happens,” he’d slurred into the hotel couch. “You’re the man of the house. Take ‘em to church. Make ‘em proper. Make ‘em fear God. There’s money in the bank, anything happens.” And Declan had almost said, you know it’s my number Matthew’s school’s had down on the books for a year now? You know the priest there already thinks we’re orphans? 
“You’ve got a number and an adress. You’re a smart boy. You know if you use it my women’ll kill you just as likely as the dreamkillers.” 
“Everything has a price. At least you’re up front on it.” 
“I’m not a good woman, Declan. Don’t make your father’s mistake. Don’t dream me into being one.” 
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” 
--- 
He didn’t open the package until he’d driven two hours, switched lisence plates and then cars, moved a state line, and walked two miles out to a sublet Jordan knew from a friend of a friend of an enemy in the art underground, where two dreams were now. It came with two dozen forged Miró’s in the living room, all done with a variety of blue paint with a distinctly incriminating synthetic binding agent manufactured solely post 1986, and even in the palest strands of morning light it made the living room into a riot of psychedelic stick-figure Catalan sunshine. He opened the door carefully, walked gingerly past the still-sleeping Matthew, TV still flickering from where he’d probably been watching it far later than Declan would have let him. Flicked the kitchen light on and made himself a cup of instant coffee, and more than anything else resisted the urge to upstairs and collapse next to Jordan in the bed that was for the moment theirs and sleep till noon. But if there was a lesson he’d learned by know it was that he couldn’t do any of the things he wanted to in life. So he downed the shitty instant coffee and he opened Mór Ó Corra’s folder and he got to work. You do what you gotta do for your family, Niall had told him. A deal had gone south and they’d made it out with their lives and stacks of money shoved in their pockets. One day you’ll have yourself a wife and some kids and then you’ll know. And he’d swallowed what he now knew was his rage. 
     “Ready to make a deal with the devil?” The voice on the other end of the number had said when he’d dialed it, and he said, only the devil can help me now, and he’d been right. No one with their head above the water could know the things he wanted to know about the Moderators. I have two dreamers and two dreams to keep out of the reach of a shadowy intergovernmental agency who’s whole M.O is about killing every dreamer they can find to stop the end of the world. Only a shadow knows its kind. And for her part, Mór Ó Corra had been thorough. He didn’t trust her. He didn’t trust her and he didn’t even know if he trusted the birth certificate. When you were the lying son of a lie, another one would be more natural than anything. He wouldn’t act on any of her information until he could put some feelers out, a few red herrings, get ahold of some of Nialls’ other bullshit to run cross checks. It was a start. At some he’d always ended up having to hold his breath and jump in in order to get the rough work done. At some point, he’d always just been shoved in. 
He didnt’ realise he’d fallen asleep until he was woken up. By Matthew, prodding his neck with the tines of a fork. 
“You said to wake you up if you slept past noon.” Jordan set down a massive plate of something exactly an inch from his eardrum with a loud clatter. 
“It’s 12:02,” Matthew added generously. 
He looked down. He hadn’t gotten through the pile. There was still more- 
Jordan’s eyes flicked notably towards the floor tiles. Declan followed them. In his early morning haze he’d somehow missed a second, smaller envelope within the envelope. He slipped it into his jacket before Matthew could see. He slid all of the papers back into the envelope before Matthew could see more. 
“Two whole extra minutes? Well, that’s where’s where the rest of my day went.” 
“You looked like you needed it. Like, you definitely looked like you needed it.” She handed him the day’s second mug of instant coffee and it hit him again that he loved her a not, which would have felt all new and electric even in circumstances that were not the current ones and when and if this was all over with hopefully no more deaths she deserved a really really nice vacation to somewhere sunny. Which he would not promise until he knew he could actually pull it off, because Declan Lynch was a liar but he was not a man who broke promises. 
  He didn’t open up the other envelope until he was in the bathroom with the door firmly locked. Magical all female mafias ran on the power of the sticky stuff at the top of a Manilla envelope, apparently. Only a few sheets inside. A surprisingly blurry print-out map with a building circled, a clipping from the Belfast Telegraph about the NHS’s most recent warnings on the loneliness epidemic among young adults and seniors, and new local projects for seniors to form new connections through knitting circles, classes in French and Irish, and mentorship opportunities with Sixth-Form students. “Former school teacher Anne  Ó Corra recounts feelings of isolation after the untimely death of her only daughter in 1999. She says that mentorship opportunities with Saint Mary’s Compre-” Declan scanned the article. On the back the same hand that had scrawled, GONE, wrote, THink the old bat’d be happy to see you. 
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