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#i expect dr to show up under things i write eventually
aparticularbandit · 7 months
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Yo, potential new bestie, and welcome!
I call myself Bandit, I'm at least 30, and I write a bunch of stuff!
Prompts are currently OPEN - but note it may take me a while to get to them. If I get to them. I can be really slow.
Currently, I have been liveblogging my first time through the Danganronpa series.
I'm so glad you're here, and feel free to check more specifics below the cut!
Credit for my current mobile banner is here!
General Links:
Tumblr Fic Masterlist
AO3
America Chavez RP Account
Note for Minors
Regarding Asks
Things I Will NOT Write:
Smut
Graphic Sexual Content
What I Write:
Marvel: specifically the MCU versions of Wanda Maximoff, Agatha Harkness, Agnes Bohner, America Chavez, and the Ancient One and a version of Viv Vision that draws on the comics to fit within the MCU
Glass Onion: primarily centered on the Shitheads, with the exception of Miles (and the inclusion of Helen)
Who Framed Roger Rabbit: specifically something I refer to as Timeline Canon (part one, part two), focusing on Jessica Rabbit, among others, although I can write this (and other Toon shenanigans) more broadly
Mrs. Fletcher
Danganronpa: not DRV3 as I haven't played that yet
Jane the Virgin: specifically Roisa (Rose Solano/Luisa Alver)
Anything Else Found Within My AO3
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ddxviine · 9 months
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Glad to know there's actual rational people in this fandom after the s2 drop 😭
(copied from an Instagram comment I posted awhile back, VERY big s2 spoilers implied)
I feel like the people complaining about Aziraphale's character development didn't really pay attention to the symbolism and parallels that Neil and the writers purposefully put in the show for the fans. I find it very unrealistic for people to expect Az to grovel and immediately abandon the place he was created and was put under strict supervision and orders for since the beginning of time. It's a lot easier to fall from heaven to hell than it is vice versa, and angels are meant to uphold differently from demons. He's lived only to know Heaven and his devotion to God, and nothing else; the way true angels should. Even if their love is extremely strong, that doesn't automatically make their relationship soft and safe. Even if the cliffhanger was very saddening and heartbreaking, from a writer's perspective, it just makes sense considering what they've been building up with the entire season. It feels flat and two-dimensioned for people to ignore the undertones and hints of religious trauma and manipulation Aziraphale went and is still most likely is going through currently.
There isn't a need to automatically start assuming Neil doesn't know how to write Aziraphale anymore, and that he's begun to act out of character. Aziraphale didn't "let everything him and Crowley worked for crumble", and he most definitely didn't forget what they went through considering he remembers the Alpha Centauri scene and still doesn't trust Heaven entirely. He even says himself that no, he doesn't want to go back to Heaven; he's AWARE of how it is up there. Beelzebub and Gabriel's banishment would've been a sign of hope to anyone that they could eventually fix things, that Heaven was progressing forward in a positive way. He's very aware, and so is most likely Crowley, that the both of them won't be able to have their happy ending together on Earth as long as Heaven is still corrupt and on their tail. That's why ineffable bureaucracy was sent away; they'd never be happy together if they stayed. Az wouldn't have even accepted the offer if the Metatron hadn't made bringing Crowley back apart of the deal. He isn't just doing it for the sake of fixing Heaven; he's doing it for himself and Crowley. Even if his attempt to restructure the angels is most likely going to be in vain, it's Aziraphale we're talking about; we've SEEN how being away from Heaven was a sensitive and hesitant subject for him, both in season one AND season two.
TL;DR
Aziraphale isn't stupid, he's just hopeful. Him going back upstairs was an act of love to fix Heaven, the only place he's known ever since the beginning, and to ensure a happy future for him and Crowley. Unless corruption is fixed from the inside, using Az's logic, ineffable husbands are not going to be at peace. Don't lose hope in Neil and the writers yet.
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What future headcanons do you have for gravity falls characters from the Cipher wheel?
(Dipper, Mabel, Stan, Ford, Soos, Wendy, Pacifica, Mcgucket)
Huh, didn’t expect this kind of thing (thought I’d get TOH post-series headcanons before GF ones, lol) but here’s a few quick ones I guess.
Dipper: Following in his Grunkle Ford’s footsteps he became a researcher in the paranormal and supernatural. Getting a degree in several fields such as zoology, mythology, literature, religion, archaeology and occultism just to name a few. He wrote several boos on his findings along with having a semi-popular YouTube ghost hunting/debunking channel. He and Mabel still have adventures with each other and she helped Dipper graduate early and get accepted into the dream college that Ford wanted to go to but couldn’t. He would often write books under the pseudonym of “Dr P”
Mabel: Getting a degree in art she is more of a freelancer and does odd jobs wherever she can. Before going to college she did a trip around the country to figure out what she wants to do in the future. Her unique and interesting sweater designs got the attention of fans when she’d appear on Dipper’s ghost hunting webshow and she opened an online store selling her sweaters and personalized patterns. She came out as pansexual to the surprise of no one. She eventually grew to be the taller twin after Dipper had a growth spurt, he suspected she used the crystal lights but she swears she didn’t.
Grunkle Stan: Traveling with Ford and helping him catch up on things that he missed while gone (well, Stan’s view on things. Ford would look it up himself later and knows that Stan left out a few details). He comes back to the Mystery Shack in the summer and helps Soos run it, take care of his (Soos) kid and hang out with Dipper & Mabel whenever they visit. He also brings souvenirs from his adventures with Ford to make as new displays in the Shack.
Grunkle Ford: Traveling with Stan and uncovering more mysteries around the globe about various weirdness spikes. He often helps Dipper with his research and comes on as an expert on Dipper’s web show. He brings back some interesting things from his adventures back to the shack and treats the store more of a museum of weirdness than a tourist trap. He spends more time with Mabel who has knitted him several turtle neck sweaters and she would often be along for the ride when Ford and Stan go somewhere new (Dipper can’t always go due to school but he is okay with Mabel going)
Soos: Becoming the new Mr Mystery he ran the Mystery Shack better than ever and he not only kept the fake stuff but also expanded into a museum of weirdness where both Ford and the magical creatures can submit things to display. He and Melody eventually got married and had one or two kids whom he swore to be the best father in the world for them (he was). He also likes to go around town and help with random handyman jobs during the off-season for the shack and continues the legend of the ronin handyman
Wendy: Wendy worked for her dad at his lumberjack job in order to pay for college out-of-state. While there she discovered and came out as bisexual, having better luck in the dating/romantic game with women then she did with men. She and Dipper remained the best of friends and she even helps him with his relationship issues. She takes some freelance writing jobs to help pay the bills but also helps with Dipper’s web show and has gained a number of fans when she’d appear (mostly woods based videos where she acts as security for Dipper and his crew).
Pacifica: Learning the value of a dollar and taking several jobs to help afford her own place, education and other expenses humbled this former rich kid to the point that she cringes whenever she thinks of how she used to act. She started several web-businesses and has found a bunch of success, one of which is in helping Mabel sell her sweaters online. She and Dipper tried dating briefly but they found that they were better friends, especially since Dipper is usually engrossed in para/supernatural things, however Paz has an on again-off again relationship with Mabel which she (Paz) wants to solidify but respects Mabel’s free spirit and is willing to wait for them both to be on the same page. She doesn’t talk to her parents much and has pretty much cut them out of her life, especially after she caught them pretty much stealing from her and use the “we’re your parents, your money is our money” excuse.
McGucket: With both a newfound wealth and a somewhat restored sanity, Fiddleford started up a robotics company and is on the cutting edge of advanced robotics and AI. There’s still a few “evil” program glitches but it’s easily dealt with in the development phase. He and his son rekindled their relationship and became closer, he’s easily the “crazy grandpa” to his grandkids.
That was just a few off the top of my head since it’s been a while since I’ve rewatched gravity falls
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my-head-is-an-animal · 10 months
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Problems With The Heart
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Greg House x Dr Anna Harding (OFC)
Story Masterlist
Chapter 8 - Tritter’s end
Wilson wasn’t exactly sure of the ins and outs, but it seemed that the second Anna found out Tritter was the cop behind it all, a fury took hold like nothing he’d ever seen and apparently like nothing House had ever seen. They had been in Cuddy’s office with House and Anna had needed permission to do a procedure on a patient. The second she saw him, their faces changed.
‘Anna, so good to see you.’ He smirked.
‘You two know each other?’ Cuddy asked, but House gave Wilson a look that said they needed to step back and let Anna do her thing.
‘When did discharge papers mean you don’t show the proper respect to your superiors?’ Anna growled and House took a seat, staying quiet. Tritter didn’t move and he could tell from Anna’s face that she didn’t really expect him to. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Just putting balance back into the world.’ He said, a hint of something Wilson couldn’t identify behind his eyes, was it fear? Surely not.
‘Balance?’ Anna’s hands were shaking, she was furious. ‘You want to talk about balance? I’m assuming your commanding officer hasn’t been informed of your previous employment, shall I go and have a quick word?’
‘And tell him what?’
Anna strode right up to the towering man, but even he seemed to want to step back. ‘The difference is, I have the scar to prove it, you just have your word.’ Her voice was low and growling. ‘I’m assuming you’re the one I’ve been hearing about? You want to go to court or make a deal?’
‘Deals are off the table for him.’
‘You’re not making a deal with him, you’re making it with me!’ Anna yelled, Tritter immediately stepped back. Anna took a calming breath. ‘Okay, here’s the deal, Dr House, Dr Wilson and pretty much this entire hospital is under my protection. I will stop at nothing to see that they are kept in positions to do their jobs to the very best of their ability. Dr House will undertake four weeks in a rehab facility, you will drop all the charges, you will unfreeze accounts, you will return whatever property you have taken and you will find a different hospital to get treatment for any ailment you may have in the future. Those are the terms.’
Tritter thought for a moment. ‘What if is say no?’
Anna paused for a moment, her knuckles were white and her whole body was shaking. ‘I will destroy everything you have.’ She whispered, lowly. Even Wilson was terrified, he’d never seen this side to Anna before. ‘I told you the world would get smaller if I was angry with you, this is your final chance to put the past behind you. If you don’t, it’s not just a few scars that will prove what really happened.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Reports are only as good as the people who write them. But footage doesn’t lie.’
That seemed to be the one thing that got through to him, made him step back.
‘You don’t have access to any footage.’ He said, calling her bluff.
‘I think the question remains, are you willing to bet your life on that?’ Anna looked like she was on her last stable nerve. ‘You have twenty-four hours to make things right, you won’t get another chance to do so.’
Tritter eventually left and Anna turned to House.
‘Four weeks, do it for me.’ She said. House was reluctant, but he nodded and looked down at the floor.
‘Anna-‘ Cuddy went to say.
‘I just need the procedure approved. We’ve exhausted all other options.’ She said, still shaking.
‘Sure.’ Cuddy nodded and Anna spun on her heel to leave.
No one knew what to do, even House remained quiet.
‘She knows him.’ Wilson said, breaking the silence. ‘How?’
‘I don’t know.’ House seemed genuinely in the dark about it.
‘You must know something. People like Tritter don’t just back down to anyone and Anna doesn’t get that angry for no reason.’ Wilson pushed.
House stood up and sighed. ‘Guess I should check myself in upstairs.’ He said and left.
Cuddy just looked to Wilson who was just as clueless. They’d spent god knows how long arguing about everything and it ended with one word from Anna.
Wilson found his accounts had been unfrozen, he had access to his money again and his car had been returned. He wandered up to Anna’s office a week later to thank her.
‘No need.’ She didn’t even look up from her screen, but she did sigh, knowing he’d need a little more than that. ‘All you need to know is this: soldiers do nasty things to nasty people, I save nasty people’s lives. It’s no wonder I don’t sleep at night when men like him are still here because of my actions.’
‘He was a soldier?’ Wilson frowned. ‘I thought he’d been a cop for twenty years?’
‘He was part time soldier, sent out as reinforcements when I was doing my last tour,’ Anna sat back. ‘Our two units were working together, I was working to keep everyone alive. He abused that and one of his men died because of it. It’s all you need to know.’
She got back to work and Wilson realised that was the end of the conversation. He didn’t push the subject and instead just got back to work.
If you liked this, please consider supporting me ☕ thanks for reading!
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autumnalmind · 10 months
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.: The Intro :.
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Void / Aki || 25+ || They/He || Nonbinary
Cladotherian: Felidae / Cats
Therian + Past lives
Otherkin + Fickin
currently self-Dx’d system (seeking professional diagnosis)
The Rundown:
  Hiya, I’m Void / Aki! This blog is a remade version of an older one...as well as reworked from what it used to be. I am constantly learning to understand myself better, learn new things, and make friends.
   Feelings of being nonhuman have persisted since I was young, and... This is me putting it to a semi-active blog, to stretch those sides of me out, and be in a community that knows what it’s like [to have had similar experiences].
   There’s still more to say, but I'd rather keep this short. I’ll put a bit of extra information under the cut- the stuff I feel like sharing- and... Yeah, hope you enjoy being around here!
TL;DR of Rules: Don’t be an asshole. No discourse, at all, no exceptions. TERFs and queerphobes, bigots, anti-kin, stay off my blog. I unfollow/block to my tastes; it’s not that deep if it happens. I’m not consistently on this blog nor have much spoons, pls be patient with me. (I’m not ignoring you.) Please don’t assume things about me; ask if curious, sure, but I’ll (system included) bring up if I need advice on anything. Most alters can be asked to front, but don’t expect them to magically show up. Consider it more like submitting a request; either they’ll show up or you’ll wait until they do, that’s all.
  So the short of it... Always had alterhuman-like experiences, starting with Pokemon when I was in elementary school. A persistent, but subtle connection to wolves...and a connection to felines that has never stopped. If anything, only got more active with time.
    I found the fickin community first, through OFFkin, but eventually that made its way to finding therians and otherkin. Kinda been at home ever since, if very quietly; lurking for years, on and off.
.:.:.:.
   As of July 2022 (the time of me originally writing this), I’ve been self-Dx’ing as plural. To keep it short, I’ve already taken the MID with my current therapist, and we’re both working on getting me to a specialist. In the meantime, I continue to research, read other peoples’ experiences, and speak with my therapist about my experiences, but I’m unsure of when/if a professional diagnosis will happen.
   For now, I, again, use plural terms to describe my mental experiences and those I communicate with in there, but... Only time and a professional can tell, I suppose.
[ There’s still quite a lot of denial in here, but I’m working to accept it. Doubt has only created further damage, and I function better utilizing system-based tips. ]
.:.:.:.
    Decided to not save this for last, so... Links for those on mobile, as well as main blog mention.
Main Blog: autumnshaven
Alter Main-blog: prayersfromaerith
Current... System List || Therian/Otherkin List || Fickin List
.:.:.:.
  ...Alright, that’s about it, I suppose. Quick bit of rules first. That will hopefully be more coherent than the quick-notes above.
Don’t be an asshole. Given that this is my space and I prefer it to be a zone I feel safe in... Just don’t. Transphobia/Queerphobia, racism, etc. will be blocked.
I’ve already blocked some people in the community, but... Don’t take it to heart if I unfollow or block you. I simply cultivate my space/what I want to see and...that’s kinda it.
I’m not consistently on this blog; I’m not ignoring you. This has been a problem in the past with new people & me, so I’ll say it now: I don’t often have a lot of spoons, these days. I need a lot of quiet time to recharge, or to limit my communications w/ people who I already know/am comfortable with. Again, it’s no spite on you if I’m just reblogging here or going silent; I just need a break.
(However, if it’s been a few weeks, you’re free to poke me. Just don’t go overboard and we’re good!) But yes, I never do this to “intentionally hurt people” or whatever. Please keep this in mind.
Don’t assume things about me. I’ve taken quick note that- occasionally- there will be some anon who wants to say, “Actually, I think you’re [this].” I don’t want any part of that! No thank you! Just go, please! I will absolutely understand advice given in good faith (“Hey, what you described sounds more like [X], you should check that out”), but essentially telling me what I should do...no.
(As well, if I’m looking for help...I [or my system] will ask for it. Anything beyond that is a bit much, imo.)
I don’t get into discourse. At the current moment, I still have a lot of learning to do and I wholly understand that. So for that reason, I don’t want any- from plural sides nor alterhuman- to be brought my way. If I rb any of it, it is for __my own learning experience__. I do not want to talk about it. (You can still send an ask/DM, but there’s no guarantee I’ll respond.)
On that note: I can try to provide advice for otherkin/therians, but am uncomfortable giving advice over system-related topics. Personal comfort, as well as the prior mentions of denial I have over being a system, myself. I just personally don’t feel qualified, so please direct those questions elsewhere. Thank you.
I’m still learning terms, how to interact with the community, etc. Definitely wanted to mention this, after noting that KFF is controversial in the otherkin side and so are the terms “kinnie,” “kinning,” and “kin” [as a verb]. Wanted to give a heads up that, while I’m not the former, I’m still “learning the language” as it were, and might still use these terms. However, and I once again stress, I am not KFF.
.:.:.:.
    Thanks for reading! Keep the rules in mind, and we’ll be just fine. Asks are open, as well, for anyone curious about...anything, really. We’ll get to it when we can.
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kynaware · 1 year
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updates [03/13/2023];
hello everyone!
apologies from the get go, for my silence. i know that this blog is pretty much run on a queue of various quotes / prompts / writing things / etc., and not even many people following... but to those that are here, following because you enjoy my work, i wanted to provide an update on what's going on with everything:
[to save on space, everything is below the cut. TL;DR also below the cut.]
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chasing down the gods ⇨
the update is much, much later than i had previously promised. this is due to some things that happened offline, and threw my mind [and - generally - everything] into a bit of chaos. it's been hard to find inspiration, so i was giving myself some breathing space. my hope and goal is to get the chapter done this week, since the following one is already completed. i had considered posting that, but i don't want to time-skip quite yet. i don't think it's fair to all of you who have stuck with me for... 8 years, if my math is semi correct. in the interim, i actually made this fun page for it [link also in the sidebar/drop down titled "check the page"]! my hope is to make one for every work i've posted / am working on [aka, WIPs and completed]. feel free to check it out! i hope you all like it [it's dark mode, and should be mobile friendly-ish].
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now, speaking of WIPs...
untitled gd fic ⇨
if you check this blog's homepage much [i will not blame you if you don't], you will have noticed a new work was put under the right sidebar [dropdown menu on mobile]. this was titled "untitled gd fic," and i am happy to announce that i am ready to reveal some first insights! as with cdtg, a WIP page has been made. as much as I would love to share it, due to a title being... not there, the url is a bit choppy. so, to make it up a bit, here's a photo so you all can have a sneak preview:
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a couple notes:
this will be multichapter
this will be close to complete / mostly completed prior to uploading beginning
current ETA for uploads starting is may 2023 [forgoing more unforeseen life issues]
none of the bigger "archive warnings" for AO3 will apply [i.e. no non-con / major character death / etc.]* * only exception might be gore, but the plan is to not have extreme graphic details. think more criminal minds prior to it going to paramount+ and thus being able to show more.
when we are in april, my hope is to have the page itself available for everyone to check out. i am hoping to use these across the board
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anything else ⇨
as said, these pages will be made for every fic. so, that includes mending bones and packed lunches and misplaced mistletoes. i will be putting links to these... somewhere. i have not gotten that far in my thought process. but, this allots a bit of time to actually work on things for this blog / towards my muse and writing inspiration, rather than just sitting and waiting.
one more thing [almost posted without mentioning this]: i will be linking to my main blog for a fic rec list. there, you'll find fics i've read and recommend for various fandoms. they were basically all wlw, but i don't know what else anyone would expect from me here. i will link both the mobile friendly edition, and the desktop version. i tend to prefer the desktop, but i know that tumblr mobile has become a lot more popular than when i first started here. i will note: i need to update it [has not been updated since... early february, i believe], but if you want something to read, check it out! my blog will also have a book rec page up eventually. that one takes a lot longer since that library is also expansive. if you want to go ahead and see recs now in the interim, here's the link to my blog's page with the direct links to said pages.
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that's it though! i know i wrote a lot here, so:
TL;DR:
cdtg update will come as soon as life stops being messy + a fun WIP page
a new fic for a new fandom coming soon to a theater near you
pages for all previously completed works [aka all two of them] will be added to the blog very soon.
feel free to reach out, if you want to chat or anything. tumblr notifications are wonky as heck - but i will reply as swiftly as i can. hopefully i can do these kinds of updates biweekly / monthly. those of you here for the fic and the quotes, let me know if that sounds good to you.
much love - C
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terresdebrume · 2 years
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01: Migraine
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A new ficlet verse is born!
What's a snippet verse, you might ask? TL;DR: It's a low-effort, medium commitment way for me to write fic, where I prioritize actually sharing bits of stories over pretty much anything else, including revisions, finishing the thing, and posting to AO3.
What to expect in this 'verse? Vecna is dead, Billy and Eddie aren't. Steve followed Robin to New York when she went to study at NYU, found a job in a queer bar, and later found Billy Hargrove in said bar. FT. Billy & Steve friendship, Robin & Steve friendship, probably some Steddie + other appearances by the rest of the group.
What to expect in this snippet in particular: M rating for use of the F slur, all by Steve to recount homophobic things or actions he's seen. Non graphic recounting of a homophobic assault. One brief but plainly stated reference to the fact that being queer in a hospital in 1988 is not safe. Medical environment + non graphic discussion of migraines and the one Steve experienced recently. Steve and Billy friendship, though not front and center.
Important: There will be no graphic or intense homophobia or homophobic violence shown "onscreen" in this verse. While I don't personally want to write stories set in that time period that ignore homophobia entirely, I'm also not interested in making myself suffer, so if characters face any homophobia onscreen it will be limited to words, and most likely not very harsh. I will of course warn appropriately when that's the case.
________
Steve sits on the flimsy paper sheet in silence, keeping his hands at his side and his eyes on the clock on the wall. He's trying to follow the thin red hands as it marks the seconds, but his vision is blurry. His eyes can't keep up with it. Outside the room, he hears the occasional footsteps noise, some bits and pieces of conversation.
It's too quiet and too noisy at the same time, and he can't help but think of El. Of the things Dustin and the other kids told him about her past. He's not sure how she managed not to go nuts after so long in that kind of environment: Steve's been waiting for less than five minutes (he's pretty sure, it's hard to see the clock sometimes) and he already hates it.
Eventually, to Steve's relief, the door opens with a burst of noise and a portly graying man in a rumpled blouse comes in. His hair is just short enough to show the hint of curls, and when he looks at Steve there are huge bags under his eyes, but he gives a polite smile anyway.
"Mr. Harrington, right?"
Steve wants to correct him, but it feels too childish for the circumstances, so he just nods.
"I'm Dr. O'Toole. I see here you've come to us about a headache?"
There's a pause, and Steve spends several seconds trying to figure out if the man is being sept—no, wrong word. Skeptical? Skeptical sounds right. He can't pinpoint it though, so eventually he just says:
"Billy said it lasted for two days."
"Billy being the young man who was trying to flirt his way into the consultation room when I got your file?" The doctor asks, and Steve snorts.
"Probably, yeah. We were hanging out at my place when it started."
Steve remembers trying to read the cookbook Robin got him for Christmas, vision going weird at the edges, then the pain hit. Billy talked to him at first, he thinks? Then after that, mostly just a haze of pain until something calmed down and he found himself in bed, covered in sweat and in desperate need of water. He asked why Billy looked like shit, he's pretty sure, and got a quick rundown of what happened…and then promptly forgot it, which then prompted Billy to insist on taking him to the hospital.
"I don't really—can't he come in?" Steve asks after he finishes explaining that to Dr. O'Toole. "I really don't—"
"Don't worry," the doctor says, "the nurses already took down his account."
He points to the folder he came in with, and Steve swallows. It probably makes sense, but it means Billy really has no chance of coming in, and at this moment that is a terrifying prospect. Steve nods anyway.
"Now, Mr. Harrington, was this the first time you experienced that kind of event?"
Steve blinks.
"You mean headaches?" Dr. O'Tole nods. "I mean, not really, but it's never like that. Usually I just get some Tylenol and call it a day."
He watches the write something down on his notepad, and something scared and ashamed rears its head inside of him, making him add:
"I mean, I could probably do without it, it's just…it makes it easier to keep going. And it's not—they don't happen that often either. Maybe once every couple of months. I guess."
"Mmh. Have you noticed an increase in frequency recently?"
Steve has to think hard about it before he can nod. Not only because he's still a little fuzzy but also because…
"Can you think of anything unusual that happened before the increase? Any kind of injury or sickness you might have experienced?"
…That. Steve knows he's not the sharpest tool in any shed, but even he realizes he has to be careful when it comes to talking about his job.
"Yeah," he says, trying not to show that he's being careful. "I uh. I work security at a bar."
It's a tiny space in Greenwich Village, just enough room for a two-person-wide platform, a row of bottles, and about fifty persons all told, staff and drag artists included.
"We had a few angry drunks last month."
And the month before that, and the month before that. Since Steve started moving there, there's barely been a week without some kind of assholes yelling slurs and playing bash-a-fag or whatever it is they call it these days.
"Does that happen often?"
"Kind of. Usually I just scare them away."
It's the steadiness, Steve found. Once you've fought Demogorgons and Vecna, people yelling and shaking a fist at you really doesn't have the same power.
"But not that group?"
"No. Those were more…motivated."
They didn't come with bats or anything like that, thank fuck, but where most of those people accuse Steve of siding with the freaks, this time they actually called him a fag and a pervert. It hit him in a way he wasn't prepared for, cutting deep into a tender part of himself he didn't know existed.
He wasn't ready when they started swinging.
"One of them bashed my head against the wall."
The pain, Steve could have handled—between the Russians and the demobats and even fucking Billy, he's kind of learned to push through it. But the disorientation, the suffocating feeling of trying to find a way to tell someone their assumptions about you are wrong and finding nothing…he remembers thinking he was going to die then and there, feeling like maybe he deserved it.
"Billy's the one who got me out of it, actually."
Came running out of the club in full Marilyn get-up, screaming bloody murder and spreading peach scented perfume all through the alley. Steve has blurry memories of drunken shouting, and a shoe flying, and eyelashes sticking to his shirt under the jacket as Pete--one of the queens who’d finished his show--took him to the nearest hospital.
“Lucky you,” Dr. O’Toole says without looking up from where he’s still writing. “Was that the first time you were in a fight?”
“No.”
“And was it the first time you were hit in the head?”
Images flash in Steve’s mind. His head, hitting the ground as the demobats throw him down. Jonathan’s fist, again and again, concrete at the back. The plate. The Russians. The drunk guys, manic with it.
“No.”
“Mr. Harrington, how many times did it happen?”
“That last one makes five,” Steve admits.
“And did these hits by chance tend to land on the left side of your face?”
Steve rubs the spot before he can think better of it, a familiar phantom itch spreading under his skin. He turns back to the doctor.
“How did you know?”
“Well first of all, most people are right handed.”
Making the left side a better target. Makes sense.
“And also because your friend mentioned that was where the pain seemed to hit the hardest.”
There’s a pause, as Steve ruminates on the doctor’s words. It’s not…they shouldn’t be so hard to parse. They shouldn’t. But Steve is well aware that he was never a very smart guy in the first place, and he’s been even slower than usual in the first place, so it takes him a while to say:
“So…the headaches are linked to that?”
“Yes. However, the symptoms you and your friend reported speak more specifically to a migraine.
“So like. A big headache.”
Dr. O’Toole smiles in a way that reminds Steve of Will, just a little bit. He would like to say it reminds him of Dustin, but Dustin is more the type to frown or roll his eyes when Steve says something stupid. Thank God the kid’s got other qualities.
“In a way, yes. But they tend to be strong headaches who bring friends like confusion, slowed thinking, blurry vision…or sometimes less expected things like food cravings or diarrhea, for example.”
“Oh,” Steve says.
He thought he’d gotten the runs from that new street vendor near NYU. What a stupid fucking symptom for a head thing. At least the blurred vision and the not thinking straight kind of make sense. Same with his light sensitivity and the bit after where he didn’t quite know where he was for a solid half hour. Could do without any of these, though.
“So…what does that mean for me?” He asks once the doctor is done explaining how migraines work. “Is it like…can we make them stop?”
“There are ways to reduce the frequency and severity,” Dr. O’Toole says. “Whether or not they’ll go away entirely is a different question.”
“Oh,” Steve says again.
He’d love to say something more useful or intelligent, but he’s apparently not back to full speed yet.
“It’s a lot,” the doctor says with a comforting expression. He rummages around his desk for a bit before handing Steve a pamphlet in muted colors. “Here’s some basic information to get you started. I’m going to write you a prescription for painkillers, to be used if you have another one in the future, and a referral for a CT scan.”
“A what?”
“A test we do to see the extent of the damage to your brain. That will give us a better idea of what we’re working with, and what to expect in the future. Our contact numbers are at the bottom of the page, please call if you have any additional questions.”
Steve nods, feelings a little like his body is moving without his impulse, and then stands up to shake the doctor’s hand. He goes back out into the corridor in a daze, and finds Billy sprawled across three and a half seats in the waiting room, popping a pink bubblegum as he reads through a faded copy of Times Magazine.
He straightens up when he notices Steve though, getting to his feet and coming up to Steve’s side in the blink of an eye. He doesn’t hug him, of course. It wouldn’t be safe, especially not so close to the Village, but Steve sort of wishes he could.
“Hey. How did it go?”
“It was a lot,” Steve manages, trailing off when he realizes his voice is about to break on the last few words. “I’d like to go home.”
Billy looks him up and down with a frown, then gently takes the brochure, prescription and referral from his hands.
“Sure,” he says. “Sit down for a minute. I’ll take care of this, and then I’ll take you home.”
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offbranddrpepsi · 2 years
Text
The snake and the mouse
Pairing: Viper x fem!reader Status: Oneshot Ao3 link: here
Rating: NSFW  Length: 1,945 words Request: Could you please write smt NSFW for Viper and a doctor fem!reader who is very composed in front of other people but in private does everything in her power to tease and seduce Viper? Like they could be working together on some project or smt and the reader will come up behind her and whisper things to her ear, maybe Viper says yes at some point Fic below ------------------------------------------------------------------------------
When you had chosen to go to college for biochemistry you never imagined it would have landed you here. Working for one of the leading technological giants alongside one of the most knowledgeable in the field was more than you could have ever dreamed of. At first you were intimidated by both your station and over seeing the doctor, but over time that changed greatly. The woman in charge of you, Sabine Callas, was a force to be reckoned with. Skilled with biochemistry as well as pharmacology and science in general she was well respected and revered at Kingdom Corporation. You worked directly under her as one of her researchers and chemists, answering her calls and doing whatever tasks she delegated to you. Originally you had started as just a lab technician passed around between the various doctors and scientists before being assigned to Callas’ team. She saw your talents in the field and promoted you quickly to her own personal team, often having you work directly alongside her on projects. 
The once intimidating aura of your senior had dissolved rapidly once you got to see her up close. The poised Dr. Callas gave way to the foul mouthed and competition loving Sabine. She would tease you all as if you had known each other forever, changing entirely behind the closed door of her lab but staying professional outside of it. One of these days you had decided to tease her back, leaning over her to whisper that her new haircut looked nice. The woman had only shot you a glare as she continued working so you kept at it, only escalating as time went on. Going from simple compliments, to very direct flirting, and eventually lewd comments that could easily get you fired; this one sided game amused you endlessly. You had been infatuated with Sabine since you first met her. She was beyond beautiful and her ferocity had only attracted you more, her amazing intellect was like the bow on top of a present. Being able to flirt so casually with her was one of the many highlights of your day and the fact she occasionally blushed or groaned at you made it all the sweeter. Until today you had only ever gotten comments telling you to get back to work or an occasional forced thank you, but that had changed in a matter of seconds. Walking into her office you carried her usual order of coffee, one of the peace offerings you often brought her. She was working on finalizing a research paper that the two of you had been working on for the past few months, her face showing intense focus. Taking advantage of her not paying attention you snuck behind her and sat the coffee down. “You look so captivating when you’re focused,” You teased, seeing her visibly tense. “ I wonder what you’d look like when you let loose.” “Would you like to find out?” Her laptop was closed as she looked at you over her shoulder. You were so caught off guard at her statement that you barely noticed her moving things off her desk and standing. With a swift motion she had you pinned between her and the desk. “Are you going to answer me or are you just going to retreat like a little mouse?” “Um Sure?” Stampering out somewhat unsure, you were not expecting this turn of events but you were certainly not complaining. “Are you truly sure you wish to do this?” She teased as she grew closer to your face, her emerald eyes resembling a predator looking at its meal. “I don’t think the little mouse is ready to play with a snake.” As her face was so incredibly close to yours, you saw your perfect answer. A bit harshly placing your lips onto hers you heard a growl come from her throat as she shoved you further onto the desk, you now sitting on it with your feet dangling off. Her chair had fallen over as she pressed herself against you, you jumping slightly at the bang. “Aw, is the mouse frightened by a little noise?” Breaking the kiss she looked over hungerly. “So precious.” Making her way to your neck it was almost like she was trying to devour you, her teeth pressing into your flesh hard enough you nearly bled. Before you could protest she moved on from the spot to bite and kiss the rest of your neck, without a doubt leaving bruises in her wake. Pulling back slightly she let out a low laugh, “perfect.” Giving your shirt a pull she let you take it off yourself, taking the time to pin some loose strands of her hair behind her ears. “Mmmmm,” She hummed as she looked over at you. “So this is what you were hiding from me all this time, what a naughty little mouse.” Before you could retort her mouth found the exposed skin of your breast, leaving what was covered by your bra alone. She peppered kisses across the area, occasionally drifting back up to your throat to pull small sounds out of you that seemed to satisfy her. You squirmed as she teased you through your bra, grasping your breasts and massaging them far to slow for your liking. “Now, don’t be hasty. You have to earn that mouse.” Releasing you she stepped back slightly and took her own shirt off, the dark green fabric being dropped on top of yours into a colorful mess. The sight of her in a black lace bra was astonishing and made you even more warm than you already were. Her breasts moved as she did, pressing against yours as she leaned into you. “Go ahead, you have my permission.” Using your legs you pulled her to where there was little to no space left between the two of you. You ran a hand through her hair and with a small tug got her to tilt her head to the side. With special care you returned the assault to her neck, not biting as hard as she had but still covering her in marks. Sabine didn’t make a single sound as you worked, you had to look up to get any indication of if she was enjoying it. Her eyes pierced you, a look of satisfaction on her face. That was all you needed to continue your work as you moved to unclasp her bra. Giving you a small sound of affirmation you took the piece of fabric and dropped it to the floor with the rest, loosening your legs from her waist to get a look at her. Sabine looked absolutely divine right now, her entire form had to have been crafted by the gods as you thought no one could look this delectable. Taking your chance you took one of her nipples in your mouth, flicking it with your tongue before toying with it. A hand found its place in your hair, the grip tightening as you went over the bud. You kept at your teasing until she harshly pinched your side. With that you swapped to her other breast, giving it a much more loving treatment. As you pulled away and took in some breath Sabine nearly tore the bra off your chest, settling her mouth on your breast in turn. She made a show of shifting between pleasurable sucking and stroking with her tongue and slightly painful grazing with her teeth. You let out small moans and wiggled against her as she swapped between the two mounds, you could feel her smiling against your flesh as she was obviously enjoying herself. “Pants off, now, make it fast.” She commanded as she pulled back. You complied and slipped out of them, leaving you in nothing but your remaining underwear. Her face looked as if she was about to pounce on you and consume you that second. With little pressure she pushed you back on the desk, making you lay with your back on it and your legs parted. Sabine took her time removing her own pants, casting you a disapproving glance every time you moved to look at her. Taking place between your legs she looked over at you with a satisfied smile, “You can’t go back now little mouse, so, are you sure you want to let me toy with you?” “Yes ma’am,” You responded with a smirk, seeing her expression shift for a moment before returning. With that her mouth found yours again as her hands found your thighs, running across the inside of them. You ached at your core, the moist warmth pooling between your thighs becoming agonizing. Sabine's fingers traced across your clothed vagina, one of her chuckles coming from her throat as her fingers found their way inside. Moaning in her mouth as careful fingers brushed your sensitive flesh you were starting to get desperate for her. As her fingers started making slow work of you, circling your clit but only ever passing over it rarely, her mouth found your breasts again. A flurry of moans and cries left your mouth as she drew this out as long as possible, seeming to enjoy playing with her new toy. “Sabine please,” you managed to get out, her fully stopping everything she was doing. “Hm?” she hummed as she removed her fingers from you. “What is it you want?” “Please,” You took a breath, enjoying the short break from the over stimulation. “Please let me cum, hard.” Her face looked pleased as she took your underwear off and moved her face down between your legs. Trailing bites across your thighs you felt her bite particularly hard close to your hip. You could feel a small bit of blood run down your thigh before a piece of cloth was placed on it. Looking at Sabine she only gave a single response, “Mine.” Kissing the bite she moved lower and lower at an agonizing pace that caused you to fidget below her. Nails cut into your thighs and held you still as her mouth was placed on you, the sensation sending you spiraling. She played with your clit expertly, passing her tongue over it and sucking occasionally to keep you just on the edge. Her tongue delved inside of you for a moment, hitting its desired spot and causing your hips to arch with pleasure. You whined and begged, desperate for release from the enchanting woman. Hands release your thighs as her mouth moves back to your bud, fingers taking their place inside you. She worked slowly, curling and thrust her fingers as she licked and sucked your clit. You felt her moan against you, letting you know she was getting herself to her breaking point as well. As she neared her end she sped up her assault, her fingers and mouth sending overwhelming waves of pleasure over you. It didn't take long before you felt yourself come undone, your vision going white and her name coming loudly out of your mouth. As you climaxed she kept going, drawing it out for as long as possible until the pleasure had become too much and you were begging for her to stop so you could breathe properly. As you panted and tried to ground yourself once again you caught sight of her grabbing a tissue to clean her hands and face up, even taking the care to clean you up some as well. Leaning over you, your mouths found each other again, lazily making out as you wrapped yourself around her. 
“Oh, I’m not done with my mouse yet.” She sounded smug as she stroked the side of your face. “ We’ve only just begun.”
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chickenscript · 3 years
Note
Could you write a scenario for each of the turtles where they sneak into to a hospital through the window and visit the reader who is staying the night after they broke their arm?
A/N: i feel like i could've wrote this funnier but hope you enjoy!
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Least to say, you weren't expecting any visitors when you ended up bedridden in the hospital.
Well, it wasn't all that serious really. You got a bone fracture in your arm after a little skateboarding incident but, the doctors wanted to keep you overnight for observation and to help ease you through those first hours of sheer pain.
Back on topic though- you wondered why you didn't think that you wouldn't see any familiar faces pop by during your stay considering the company you kept.
And by that you meant they would 100% be the type to break into a hospital just to visit you.
Leo: - You honestly thought he would've tried to sneak in dressed as a nurse knowing Leo and his ideas.
- But no, this time around he had snuck in through your window and did so, so stealthily that he nearly gave you a heart attack when he cropped up right next to your face sudden.
- Thankfully you realized it was him before you could let out a scream that would've alerted a nurse or doctor.
- You laughed the fright off and he took a seat on your bed next to you.
- He started off idle chatter about how you were feeling and the specifics of how you ended up here, and you enjoyed the company as much as you knew he should've waited until you left tomorrow for his own sake.
- You couldn't not appreciate that he had come to check on you.
- You're not sure that you had known anyone before the turtles that would've found a way into your hospital room after visiting hours to make sure you were absolutely okay themselves.
- You made sure to let Leo know that too.
- He smiled sheepishly and ruffled your hair; he'd break into a hospital any day for you. You were one of his best friends after all. (Of which the turtles only had you and April).
- The sentiment made you snort and you smiled back at your goofy friend with a giggely thank you.
- You wouldn't have it any other way.
- Regardless, you had to admit that he probably should've left for the lair before the morning rolled in instead of staying so long into the night getting caught up in nighttime conversation with you that he wound up passing out like you did.
- He had to narrowly avoid being caught by the staff and you tried not to bust out laughing at his "timely escape".
- Which was Leo having to scramble out off the bottom of your bed where he'd sprawled out on so he could launch himself out the window when the nurse came to tell you that you were ready to be discharged.
- The sound of a yowling cat as he landed in the dumpster outside didn't help your case either.
Donnie:
- You...you weren't expecting the impromptu doctor costume.
- Or for him to immediately start out his sudden visit by prodding at your cast the second he was done clambering through your room window.
- Donnie insisted he just wanted to check on the sturdiness of it, but you still had to swat him away so he wouldn't fuss over it.
- With a sigh, you let your arm fall back across your stomach. You didn't have to ask to know why he was here because you had a good guess already.
- You invited the turtle to sit on your hospital bed and after hesitating for a moment, he plopped down.
- He cleared his throat and asked you how you were feeling.
- You smiled and told him that they were giving you plenty of painkillers, Dr. Dee. It wasn't a gnarly break, so you were lucky in that regard and didn't need any heavy duty treatment.
- Donnie nodded with closed eyes and folded arms.
- He told you everyone was worried about you and you poked his bicep, telling him to tell them that you definitely weren't dying or anything.
- Donnie looked down at you and poked you in the nose, telling you that a broken arm still wasn't anything to laugh about.
- You wriggled your nose with a puff. You knew that but you also knew that you would be able to recover just fine.
- Even though Donnie didn't show it like his brothers would've, you knew he had come all this way to make sure you were getting treated properly. (Even though you certainly were).
- After his fussing, you and Donnie played a few rounds of Mario Kart on his switch while chatting. You were sure he was going easy on you because of your arm but you didn't say anything about it because well, who could ever complain about winning?
- When you wrapped up, you let him sign his name in an almost obnoxious purple that glinted neon in the dark on your cast and he told you not to break anything else.
- You laughed and replied that you didn't plan on it.
- The answer seemed to be good enough for him as he left and after the nurse came to turn out your lights for you, you laid back in your bed and stared for a long while at the glow in the dark signature on your bum arm before falling asleep.
Mikey:
- You had to shush him the moment he launched onto your hospital bed.
- He was immediately poking and prodding at you, and asking about whether or not your arm still hurt.
- You laughed softly and shook your head. You reassured him you were doing much better compared to earlier.
- Mikey was happy to hear about that, settling down a bit and sitting down.
- He asked if he could touch your cast and you gave a nod.
- He touched it very gently, wrinkling his snout at the coarse feeling texture of it under his fingertips.
- Then he looked up at your face and asked the question you knew he was probably waiting to since he got there.
- You gave another soft laugh and said yes, he could sign your cast.
- With a wide smile he whipped out some markers he was carrying with him and got work scribbling on your cast.
- You quickly got the feeling that his "signature" was going to be much more elaborate than just that.
- And you weren't wrong as he spent the better part of an hour, chatting with you as he drew.
- Truthfully, you hadn't been able to get to bed at all before Mikey dropped by and having him here was nicer than tossing and turning, waiting to fall asleep.
- Eventually, he's done and you're amazed by the graffiti style doodle now on the corner of your cast.
- Mikey beamed at the look on your face and asked you what you thought. To which you were quick to say it looked amazing.
- You ended up having a chat about art and you two did some doodling in one of your notebooks before he had to go back to the lair so you could call it a night.
- He wished you a goodnight and you promised to be over the next day to spend some time with your favorite turtles, and when you let your head rest on your pillow, sleep found you much easier than you thought it would before Mikey got there.
Raph:
- You were surprised a herd of staff didn't rush to your room as he had to all but force himself through the window and knocked over an IV pole and those little carts that held nurse supplies.
- Of course, a sweet little nurse did pop in to see if you were alright and you told her that a strong breeze must have done it all.
- She bought the story and Raph, who had ducked under your bed and raised it a good foot or two higher, crawled out.
- He asked you how you were doing and whatnot, and you waved off his worries.
- Still, he didn't seem very sated by the look on his face.
- You reached out with your good arm and gave him a pat on his. - In truth, Raph felt bad that he nor his brothers could've been there to prevent your injury; as stupid as that might sound.
- And he seemed to think you would laugh at him as he admitted that to you.
- You didn't think it sounded stupid in the slightest though. A lot of people feel that way when it comes to people they care about, you reassured him.
- You felt the same every time the turtles had altercations with the villainy lurking in New York.
- That seemed to work and you were glad to shake some worry off of Raph's big ole shoulders. He had enough of that while trying to lead the gaggle of turtle brothers.
- You patted the side of your bed and almost regretted the gesture when it groaned in agony at Raph's mass.
- You tried to laugh it off, hoping internally that the bed would turn out okay. You were just happy that it was holding up for now. But, you were surprised that Raph didn't notice the potential problem.
- You two spent a while just idly chatting and Raph recanted the brothers' recent encounter with some villains last night. You eagerly listened and enthused about it alongside the behemoth of a snapping turtle whose giddiness about things always reminded you he was truly a softie.
- After some hours, he got around to leaving once he signed your cast in big, blunt red letters and the hang out session made you feel like you really did have friends looking out for your more than you realized before.
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starlit-dreaming · 3 years
Text
[prologue] élémentaire
Fandom: MLB Ship: Eventual Felinette, MarcNath & Chlogami, Past Lukanette TL;DR: HBIC Marinette + Rich Marinette + ML Salt Fic + Canon Divergence
[0] | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5
Note: recently i’ve been really craving some hbic marinette, so much that i ended up writing this entire thing tbh even though im not even actively in the fandom anymore post-s2. this was inspired by [Braided Lies] in particular (i’ll be linking it in the notes for those interested; i highly recommend it). i also just really wanted to write a fic where marinette’s family is actually rich it’s just that her family’s very humble and doesn’t like to flaunt their wealth like chloe’s fam tbh. a lot of this fic more or less comes from my own personal headcanons
also, i wasn’t sure if i wanted to go canon felix or fanon felix. so i kinda did both? as in mashed em together; this felix is still adrien’s cousin, a graham de vanily, but his mannerisms are more closely towards fanon felix
this will be crossposted on ao3 under the same name
there is salt in this fic. idk how much yet, but please take care of your blood pressure--
————————————————————
0. primaire couleurs
————————————————————
‘Oh,’ Marinette Dupain-Cheng notes, her eyes surveying her classmates, noting that she was in the center of attention.
It was early morning, with only ten minutes until Mme Bustier arrived for class to begin. For the most part, it seemed that everyone else was in attendance — including Chloé, and everyone knew that Chloé has no reason to show up to class early. She couldn’t help but blink at that, a bit of wide-eyed confusion as she made eye contact with the group that seemed to be confronting her.
A typical confrontation, optimized for humiliation by showcasing her ‘faults’ in a wide setting.
“I can’t believe you would do something like this, Marinette!”
Alya was at the forefront, a look of near betrayal and hurt showing on her face as she held a notebook that was torn asunder. There was torn bits of paper that seemed to work in tandem with the mess around the trash bin. It was Alya’s new journalism notebook with a black and red cover — she could see the ripped sticker of a ladybug on the bent and torn notebook. The notebook was barely used from what Marinette could tell, and only now does she realize the reason why Lila made sure to smugly look at her the previous day when she openly gave it to Alya at the start of class with a declaration of being besties.
Lying Rossi wanted to frame her again, and this time, swiftly delivering the final nail of Alya’s judgement regarding Marinette. She was expecting this to happen eventually, and Marinette was foolish enough to think that there was still the tiniest chance of maintaining an amicable friendship with Alya.
Unfortunately, someone spoke up amidst the group who all seemed to display horrified disbelief or heartbroken watery eyes.
“I can’t believe you would rip my gift for Alya because of jealousy,” Lila cried, covering her eyes as she turned to Mylène who immediately closed her eyes and hugged Lila, rubbing her back as she tried to comfort what appeared to be a distraught friend to her. Ivan was next to his girlfriend, seeming somewhat uncomfortable with the confrontation, but standing near to support Mylène and Lila nevertheless. Rose as also next to Lila, and wherever Rose went, so did Juleka.
A glance to everyone else in the classroom showed that they were all filled with varying levels of discomfort or disbelief. Adrien stared at the scene with pinched brows and a frown on his face, as if wanting to doubt the liar’s words, but at the same time being uncertain of it all. His opinion wasn’t important, of course, considering that Lila planted the seed of doubt regarding Marinette, her claims that she was Adrien’s stalker was enough to get Gabriel Agreste to issue a warning against the girl to maintain her distance from Adrien.
And in the end, it didn’t really matter. It was likely that Lila believed that everyone in the class stood at her side. In a way, it was almost true — it was Marinette against a mob mentality. A group of self-righteous people rallying together for the confrontation, believing that they’re protecting a victim against a self-proclaimed bully. As long as there was even a minor bit of evidence, they would readily work together.
Because in their eyes, Marinette is just a Baker’s Daughter. She’s an ordinary girl in their eyes, not famous like Adrien nor as flauntingly rich as Chloé is.
(And that’s what Lila failed to recognize.)
“We can’t stay as friends anymore,” Alya sharply declared as Marinette politely stares back. “You’ve changed, you became a bully just like Chloé!”
It wasn’t the first time Lila had set her up — it was just like Chloé’s work from before. Sloppy, without any regard for consequences, overconfident. Unlike Chloé who had no need for being seen in a positive light, everything about Lila was cliché and relied solely on poorly done acting to sell it. And fortunately for Lila, their class was primarily comprised of socially gullible teenagers.
Only — it’s different this time. Unlike the previous, minor class-based humiliation type of confrontations, it was different.
Because Lila pulls out a pink-covered sketchbook that Marinette had lost about a week ago. It was her practice sketches, where she simply drew still life and the clothes that her peers wear. Everything in that sketchbook was an accumulation of her surroundings, the beauty of the world and the ugliness in society.
And Marinette is silent, staring at Lila and knowing what the girl’s about to do, with a smug smirk on her face with fake tears on her face. And she feels… numb, knowing that nobody will save her sketchbook.
“Exactly!” Lila had sniffed, opening the pink notebook.  “How would you feel if I did the exact same to you, Marinette?”
And all she hears is the sound of pages ripping. Again. And again.
It falls to the ground in broken, ripped pieces.
The class is silent.
Whether it’s because they found it cruel for Lila to tear her sketches to pieces, or that they regret allowing this confrontation to progress the way it did, Marinette will never know. It was a strange feeling, watching her sketchbook be ripped apart because of a liar’s whims, and even then, Marinette can’t find it in herself to care about it asides for the fact that the liar had torn up her sketchbook. Even though it wasn’t her commissions, or her personal works, it was still hers.
Marinette takes in a deep, quiet breath, and she narrows her eyes at Lila who seemed more preoccupied with guilt-tripping their peers into agreeing that her actions were justified.
Her gaze doesn’t linger for long, instead making direct eye contact with Chloé Bourgeois.
——————————
Chloé Bourgeois had been waiting for the day when Marinette would finally admit defeat.
While she herself will readily admit this fact, she is well aware that outsiders will misunderstand the relationship between the two. It doesn’t matter what they think about her and Marinette’s relationship, and it honestly isn’t any of their business either. She indulges herself in adoration and attention, and that’s the simple difference between her and Marinette. It’s the cause of their divide when they moved on to Dupont, and Chloé will always remember that slight. She was given a taste of what she — at the time — deemed to be a betrayal of their promise to always stick together. Félix wasn’t a part of it, and how could he? It wasn’t his fault that his parents wanted to move to Britain.
So yes, she and Marinette were rivals and have been since the day they first met. Were they enemies? That depends on who you ask, and it’s likely that everyone will assume that they were. It’s a complicated matter, really, because to the students of Françoise Dupont, Chloé is a simple school yard bully. But to the students that have been with them since primary school, it was a different story.
For the people who followed them, it was a complicated situation where they laid in wait as years passed.
The premise of it all was simple: Chloé Bourgeois doesn’t want the goody two-shoes Dupain-Cheng who smiles and never says no and wants to be the better person. She doesn’t want to see Dupain-Cheng be the boy-obsessed fangirl when she was simply a critical fashion lover who knew how to speak with a silver tongue disguising her insults — it was the one matter where Félix would agree with her. They hated seeing Marinette Dupain-Cheng act like someone she’s not.
And Marinette was fully aware of how she and Félix felt about the person she is now, but she didn’t want to stay as the kind Heather McNamara of their primary school past. She didn’t want anything to do with fame and would much rather stop and smell the roses — she wants to enjoy life and experience the feeling of being fully seen as a commoner. And it’s fortunate in everyone’s eyes that she’s the Baker’s Daughter and was thus dismissed as a regular girl.
Otherwise, maybe then Chloé would’ve succeeded a long time ago.
In the past three years, almost four, of sharing the same classes at Dupont — something done intentionally by Bustier’s own design, Chloé had tried to push all of Dupain-Cheng’s buttons. She tried to get under her skin, tried to show her the worst of all their peers who would do nothing to come to her rescue, and if it hadn’t been for the new girl at the time, Alya, she probably would’ve won earlier. They all knew that those who were part of their court wouldn’t do anything, partly out of fear of Chloé’s wrath, partly out of respect for Marinette’s wishes, and mainly because they, deep down, had missed the good old days.
Last year Chloé was prepared to go all out until Alya showed up. Plan after plan — ruined because of Alya’s interference, enough to give Dupain-Cheng reason to fight back against Chloé and telling her to back off. As the days had gone by, she was beginning to think of finally moving on, of actually conceding defeat to Dupain-Cheng. And yet, Lying Lila Rossi came around. And Chloé began to see how the girl could cause Marinette to finally snap and return to her senses.
Chloé leaned back into her seat with a triumphant grin, knowing Dupain-Cheng will finally concede defeat as the fashion designer turned to look her in the eye.
After all, Dupain-Cheng is a naïve girl, while Marinette knows her own worth.
——————————
Alix Kubdel leaned back into her seat, biding her time and ignoring Mme Bustier’s lesson as Lila Rossi interrupted class yet again to spin yet another tall tale of her life.
It was sickening to see everyone so easily manipulated. It was sickening to her that she was one of those people that was actually interested in her fake stories. Then again, Lying Rossi could’ve been an author if she hadn’t been more focused on telling lies.
She was hyper aware of the silence coming from Marinette who sat in the back of the classroom. Alone, without sparing anyone a glance as she stared down at her notebook and occasionally typing on her phone. And Chloé, sitting in the row in front of her, Alix can see her typing away on her own phone with a delighted smirk on her face. She can see Sabrina diligently taking notes for herself and Chloé with one hand, the other hand typing away on a tablet.
Then, she heard familiar tapping from behind her. Slowly, Alix glanced back, and Max shoots her a confused look, wondering why she was looking back at him, when really, Alix wanted to confirm that she wasn’t hearing things. The tapping repeats, drawing her eyes to Kim who grinned smugly at her.
Scowling, she elects to ignore him by adamantly glaring at the board, but couldn’t resist the temptation to retaliate as she mutters, “Nobody likes a smug asshole.”
“Yeah? Well Ondine likes me,” Kim smugly stated in return, like a smug asshole.
“Don’t you have anything better to do?” Alix huffed.
“Duh,” Kim stated, and it was that infuriating tone from back in their elementary school days where he would roll his eyes as if she said something dumb. “I’m interested in hearing what you guys plan on doing, though,” he stated, and at this, Alix finally deems him worthy enough for her to actually look back at him. “Ondine’s a part of your faction, if I remember correctly.”
“That doesn’t mean she was a part of the court, though,” Alix scoffed, her eyes darting to the back, where Marinette sat. “I don’t even know if she intends to keep her court the same, especially because we’ve been acting as bystanders.”
“True,” Kim easily acknowledges, and it was in that moment that Marinette looks up and makes eye contact with Alix. “But you’re forgetting one important thing.”
“And what’s that?” Alix finds herself asking, though she already knows the answer.
“You still dye your hair pink.”
——————————
There once was a school called École primaire d'élite de Notre Dame.
Notre Dame’s Elite Elementary School.
It was a fancy rich kid school ruled by three people, and the students had taken it upon themselves to be divided by three factions.
Cyan, Yellow, and Magenta.
Fondamentaux, Charmante, and Méticuleuse.
In the English translation: Fundamental, Charming, and Meticulous.
The colours were chosen because of their faction leader’s favourite colour, the faction names to match the letter of their ruler’s first name, and the meanings carefully picked for what their leaders stood for. Despite how official it all seemed, the leaders that people had chosen to follow did nothing to encourage or dissuade them — well, except for the Charmante Faction; their leader adored all the flaunting and had a rather elaborate princess phase.
Félix Graham de Vanily was known as the Fair Emperor of the Fondamentaux Faction, sometimes being called the Frigid King for his cold demeanor. Out of the trio, he toyed with the rules, twisting them to his advantage and vastly enjoyed making bullies into a show for his own amusement and for their humiliation if they, in particular, wronged him or a close companion. It was a give and take, a businessman sort of approach, the faction out of the three that cared more for facts and logic. He wore dark blue, and so the students who admired his use of logic and manipulation took it upon themselves to wear dark blue accessories — ties and bows, watches and hair ties. He didn’t care for justice, and oft preferred to only make deals that were either fair, or were profitable for him.
Chloé Bourgeois was the Charismatic Queen of the Charmante Faction, otherwise known as the Cruel Empress. It was obvious just by knowing the girl in question that she ruled with an iron fist, commanding everyone she deemed to be beneath her. She was like her own mother at times, using sharp words to bring someone to tears and mocking them all. Unlike Félix, she was self-interested, a fact that never seemed to change with time. She always wore a golden yellow, and her followers would follow behind wearing gold jewelry and accessories — showy, fashionable, and noticeable. Out of the three factions, she was the only one to make her vocal approval and encouraged it by acting as if she were an actual princess, and it didn’t help the fact that she was spoiled beyond comparison.
And then there was Marinette Dupain-Cheng, the Mirthful Majesty of the Méticuleuse Faction, often being seen as the Miraculous Princess for her creative problem-solving and uplifting smiles. Everyone seemed to be in the same mindset that Marinette was a Disney Princess, the sweet McNamara of the three Heathers, despite being the faction that donned on all the shades of red. While Félix was known to be the businessman, while Chloé acted as the queen bee, Marinette was the sweet princess — a bit of a joke, considering that she was the daughter of two incredibly successful bakers, but it was a genuine compliment. People didn’t seek her out like they would for Félix for his connections, nor did they wax poetry and adored Chloé, but her admirers outnumbered both factions because of Marinette’s vast popularity among the student body. Her fans all took to wearing reds and pinks, some would even dye their hair to show her their devotion — anything was fine, so long as they ensured that they would not be an eyesore to the budding fashion designer.
Unlike the others, she was often behind schemes that would get rid of corrupt teachers. Meanwhile, Félix was the sort to use and gather as much information as he possibly could. Chloé was the one who would throw tantrums on occasion while conspiring to get others in trouble. It was expected for the trio to get along like oil and water, meaning not at all. Instead, their friendship closely resembled the three primary colours. They worked together to purge the school of anything they found distasteful, strangely becoming friends throughout it all.
They were called Les Trois Primaires — The Three Primaries.
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Note
✏, hotchreid, first kiss 🥺
You don’t just get a blurb honey, you get the whole damn night. I’ll eventually start writing blurbs and not full-length oneshots for these asks, but Cee (my love my family my favorite always) is who got me back into CM in the first place so yours was always going to be the long, fleshed out version. I love you so my dear. 
((P.S. Yes I’m still working on the 200follower asks xD I’m so sorry life got in the way and I discovered hcs but I’m being responsible and finishing all of these now I promise!!!))
Personal plot bunny: Hotch invites Reid over to help with a research paper/with Jack and Reid gets to see his boss all domestic and soft, and in turn Spencer just kind of fits in his home seamlessly and Hotch kisses him as he leaves.
Word Count: 3107
--
It’s a perfectly ordinary day in late November when Hotch opens his apartment door to Reid standing there in the clothes he’d worn to work earlier that day. Satchel over his shoulder, wrapped in jacket and scarf, and giving him a small quirk of a smile in greeting -- still very obviously thrown off kilter that Hotch had invited him over in the first place. 
When Reid said he’d lend him a hand on his most recent research paper, the younger agent had probably expected them to do it at the office. Interviews and research were all a big part of having a Behavioral Science subunit at the FBI, and published papers were a requirement from all BAU members to aid in this endeavor. Every team had to keep a steady output of resources and research studies going just to keep funding for the department afloat. He may be Unit Chief, but Hotch was no exception to these requirements, even with as much work as he has to put in on the regular. 
Usually, he can do his research and piece together papers in between his daily paperwork. But this week Jess is sick with a stomach flu, and Jack hadn’t gotten to spend time with Hotch in what feels like a month. So the easiest solution was obviously to invite Reid to have dinner with them at his home, entertain him while he read over the drafted paper and helped Hotch out. 
Obviously. 
The only reasonable option, really. 
“Thanks for coming, Reid,” Hotch greets back with a softened expression as he looks him up and down. “Did you even go home first?” The very first thing Hotch always does is change out of his suit when he gets home, shedding that armour as best he can to switch mindsets between Agent Hotchner of the FBI, and Aaron Hotchner the ever-stressed-out single dad. That evening donning worn jeans and a heather grey Henley to better accommodate himself within the space. 
“Oh -- no, I didn’t see much point,” Reid shrugs, then motioning to his satchel which is now filled with books that weren’t there when he’d left the bull pen a couple hours before. “I stopped by the law library in Georgetown and found a few more references, just in case you were using the Favero citations instead of Weston and I don’t have all of those read yet -- or I didn’t. I do now. But I still brought them--”
Hotch smiles, a real smile -- small as it is, but no less fond of Reid going out of his way to help him. But before he can thank him again Jack’s socked feet come thundering down the hall behind him. 
“Dr. Spencer! Dr. Spencer! Dr. Spencer!” And he’s slipping past Hotch, smooth and fluid as water, attaching himself to Reid’s legs and waist in a hug with a big smile that looks so much like Aaron’s own. When he’d been younger, only about three or four years old, Jack had been deathly scared of Doctor’s visits. It had been Reid’s idea to have Jack start calling him ‘Dr. Spencer’ to help alleviate some of that fear, associating the moniker with his non-threatening and familiar face. Reid had been much younger then, too, and that had helped the tactic work like a charm. Haley had been over the moon when his reverse psychology worked out so well. 
“Jack! Woah, you got taller!” Reid’s whole demeanor changes. A little more animated, more comfortable, even -- and Hotch could remember a time when Reid hadn’t even wanted to hold a child for fear of the interaction. Now, he was always the first to talk to one if JJ didn’t beat him to it. “How’ve you been?” “Good!” Jack says excitedly, barreling over the small talk in ways only children can. “Dad says you’re going to help him with his homework, can you help me with mine too?!”
Reid smiles even wider and chances a glance at Hotch that he feels in his chest. “You bet, I love helping with homework.”
Jack just scrunches his nose up at him. “Why?”
“Because it’s fun.”
“Homework isn’t fun.”
“Well, maybe you’ve been doing it wrong.” 
“Let’s let Dr. Reid in from the hallway,” Hotch interrupts with a laugh, herding his son and the younger agent inside. “Jack, go get your homework and you can do it at the table,” Hotch says as he takes Reid’s coat and watches him kick off his shoes by the door. Mismatched socks prominent against the hardwood floors. Making himself at home, shedding some of the layers and getting comfortable in the space much like Aaron does every day after work. “Hope you like spaghetti. It won’t be as good as Rossi’s.”
“Who doesn’t love spaghetti,” Spencer grins with a soft laugh. “Rossi’s is almost too fancy for me, anyway.”
“A man of simple tastes,” Hotch teases him.
“I’m easily impressed.”
“Lucky me.” 
It slips out, the low, comfortable banter, and Reid’s eyes are alight and Aaron feels himself smiling enough his dimples show, and he leads the way to the kitchen where dinner is already in the works on the stove. Filling the small condo with the smell of tomato sauce and garlic. 
-
Jack and Reid set up at the kitchen bartop where they can watch Hotch finish cooking and stay within reach of conversation. It doesn’t take long for Hotch to finish making dinner, or for Jack to finish his homework spurred on by Reid’s strange enthusiasm for math problems. With how much time they spend talking about psychology and sociology (and sometimes even philosophy) Hotch always forgets one of Reid’s Ph.D.’s is in mathematics. 
“Numbers just make sense,” he explains, when Hotch brings it up while drizzling olive oil on the drained pasta on the stove. “There’s always a right answer and the rest are wrong. It’s comforting, to an extent, but predictable -- that’s why I shifted focus from sciences to humanities. There’s no right or wrong answers in philosophy, it’s all argumentative. Always evolving. I prefer that, it’s no fun having all the answers.” 
And coming from someone who does always have all the right answers, that must mean something profound to the younger man. One conversation outside the walls of the BAU and Hotch already feels like he understands Reid more than he has in a long time.
--
Dinner runs so smoothly it’s as if Reid is always there for it. Jack even finishes all of his food and helps with the dishes before Hotch has to ask him to. Making the two men exchange a glance and Hotch ask, “You charge by the hour?” and Reid laughs into his water glass in reply. They end up talking a bit about the paper Hotch has been working on, along with about a dozen other things Reid launches into in side tangents -- from the books he’d read during his brief visit to Georgetown that afternoon, to his most recent philosophical debate he had with his doctoral advisor about his thesis paper he’ll have to submit at the end of next month. 
“Do you need time to piece it together? I didn’t know you were that close to your next Ph.D.”
“Oh, no, it’s fine,” Reid waves him off. “I just need a weekend where we are actually in town and not on a case, and I’ll get it finished.” 
“I’ve been working on this paper for the past six months,” Hotch all but balks in disbelief. “How can you write a Ph.D. dissertation in a weekend?”
“Well, I’m not the Unit Chief or a single parent,” Reid points out with a gentle grin, and Hotch feels one pulling at his own lips as well. “But it’s mostly written anyway, just all up here.” He points to his head, and Hotch bets he could recite the paper verbatim with what he writes up when he has the time.
“You could always write it on the jet,” Hotch says. 
“I do,” Reid smirks, and Hotch can’t help but roll his eyes. “In my head, someone is usually taking up the table with a headstart on paperwork.”
“I think they can be talked into relinquishing some table top space,” Hotch says, until Reid gives him a look. “Oh, you mean me?”
“You spread out everything to keep it organized in piles.” 
“I’d share with you.”
“You told Rossi to use the couch last week when he wanted to answer emails,” Reid says with a barely contained laugh.
“Yeah, well, he’s not you,” Hotch admits before he can take it back, and Reid almost answers -- mouth open and everything -- when Jack comes back and is all but begging ‘Dr. Spencer’ to help him with his science fair project he hadn’t even decided on. 
--
The rest of the evening ends up with the three holed up in Hotch’s office, Reid surrounded by Law books and reading material he hasn’t gotten to sift through before, Hotch with his drafted paper printed out for Reid’s ease of access, and Jack with his science textbook and a notebook already talking Reid’s ear off about a science project for the spring. 
But once the time starts to tip into the later hours of the night, Hotch tells Jack to get ready for bed and say goodnight to Dr. Reid. 
“Goodnight, Dr. Spencer. Thanks for your help,” Jack says politely, ingrained in him by his father and Reid smiles a little too bright and soft at the same time at how sweet it is he tries to be good for company.
“You know, Jack, you can just call me Spencer if you’d like,” he says, knowing that the older boy has already outgrown his fear of the doctor and the reverse psychology is no longer needed.
Jack looks a little confused for a moment. “Dad doesn’t.” 
“Well, your dad can, too -- if he wants,” Reid says, looking to Hotch and they share a look he once again can feel in his chest. Watching the whole interaction with a carefully guarded expression, but it melts under Reid’s glance and he isn’t quite sure what is there anymore. But whatever it is, it makes Reid smile softly at him.
“Okay, goodnight Spencer,” Jack interrupts their moment, and hugs Reid around the neck from where he’s sitting cross-legged on the floor. It jostles the younger man, and Hotch smiles wide and ducks his head down to hide it. But Reid hugs Hotch’s son back, and tells him goodnight, as well. “You’ll come back, right?”
“Of course, I’d love to,” Reid tells him, and -- satisfied -- Jack goes off to brush his teeth, leaving the two in a lull of heavy silence. “Sorry, I think I just invited myself over, some time.”
“You’re welcome anytime.” And he means that, knows Reid knows that as he looks at him a little more soundly than before. “Not just for work.” If that needed to be said. 
And if Reid’s face flushes a little darker in the low lighting, Hotch doesn’t mention. No matter how much he can’t seem to look away.
Reid looks over his entire paper while Hotch tucks Jack into bed, and is already making notes on it at his desk when the man returns. The next hour rolls into two, and Hotch drags another chair in from the kitchen so they can share his desk and work through bullet points on the paper but… it was pretty much done, from the start. Even Reid’s edits didn’t take them long. After a while they dissolve into just talking, discussions and anecdotes and sitting maybe a little too close and laughing so much and so loud sometimes they have to quiet themselves so they don’t wake Jack down the hall. 
It’s almost 10:30 by the time they resurface from each other, before Hotch realizes Reid probably needs to go home because they both have to be at work bright and early. But this was… this was the best night he’s had in a long, long time, and he wants to do it again. Soon. More than soon. More than once. He thinks about all of this as he follows Reid to the front door and helps him gather the rest of his things. 
“We should do this again, sometime,” Hotch mentions, hands in his pockets and trying to be more cool about this than he feels.
“I’d like that, I had a lot of fun tonight,” Reid answers, standing up from tying his shoes and giving him that bright, wide smile he doesn’t always feel comfortable enough to allow. It never fails to stall Hotch in his tracks, staring a little too long at his mouth than he should be. 
“What if, next time, it’s just us? And no Jack?” he continues, elaboration just in case Reid doesn’t grasp what he’s asking. Reid is watching him with this look as if he’s unsure he heard correctly, and Hotch is nothing if not patient.
“I’d… I’d be okay with that,” Reid answers, slowly as he weighs some unseen options and gauges Hotch’s facial expressions to the most minute detail.
“Good. How about Saturday?”
He can see the moment it all clicks into place.
“...Are you asking me on a date?” Reid asks, a little winded. 
“If that’s alright with you,” Hotch says with a half smile. Once again sounding more confident than he should in the face of how Reid’s eyes start to dart around and he licks his lips nervously.
“I don’t know how -- how good I am with dates.” There’s a story behind that, and Hotch wants to know it, but he does his best to press Reid gently. Because… he’s been holding off asking the younger man for a long time, now, but after tonight he gets the feeling that he might not have needed to be so hesitant, after all. 
“Oh?”
“Just -- the ritual of it all always throws me off. Dressing up and going out, and making conversation over dinner while trying to eat and maintain the other’s attention, and then keeping it all going if you manage to do that I just don’t always do so well one-on-one and --”
“Reid.” He pauses, then -- “Spencer.” And that stalls his stream of thought to words, catching Spencer’s attention and snagging it in the best way. “...we just did all of that. And it was great.” Hotch knows his own expression has softened around the edges over the course of the night, smiles easier to hold, eyes more expressive, and Spencer takes in every change and nuance with a well-practice eye and is… very obviously stunned by what he finds. “So -- I’d like to do it again. Saturday?” 
Shocked, eyes a little wide, breath lost to the wind, Spencer waits a beat too long to answer. Enough to make Hotch nervous, before he answers in a sound that could have been a whisper if it had been quieter. A slight crack to it that betrays his emotion.
“Okay.” 
Hotch gets a turn to be stunned, because he thought this had been about to take a very different turn. “Okay?”
“Yeah.”
“--Okay.”
Intelligent men that they were, that was the extent of the conversation, and then Reid is smiling that bright, sunshine laced smile and Hotch is trying to contain his own and -- Reid still needs to go home. So, biting his lip, Reid turns as if to leave -- is just about out the door when he stops and turns back so quick he almost runs into Hotch on the threshold. 
“So… technically, that means this was our first date, then. Right?” he looks so goddamn hopeful, and like he has something further to add, that Hotch smiles outright and this time doesn’t bother hiding it.
“Technically, yes.” He supposes it was. And it really had been… a great night. Not a bad first date, at all.
Reid takes far too long trying to string together words after that. Keeps looking to Hotch then away to gather his thoughts, then back again as if in search of something; and it’s after about the third time that Hotch realizes what he’s getting at. What he’s trying to find a way to ask. 
It hits him so silent and hard it about knocks the wind out of him.
Oh.
He can do that.
Hotch steps closer, about the same time Spencer opens his mouth like he’s finally figured out the right combination of words within the range of the English language to form a coherent sentence, and they all die on his tongue the moment Hotch guides him back with a hand on his hip. He’s done it before, gentle leading when Reid strays the wrong way or needs to be shifted in a crowded room on cases, and this time is just as easy and no different.
Except this time, Hotch isn’t maneuvering them to get past him. This time, he presses Spencer’s spine to the doorframe and leans in to capture his lips with his own. Right there, in the open doorway.
Hotch kisses him, and it’s perfect.
The gentle slide of lips is over before either know it, lasts longer than his racing heart can measure, and before Hotch can decide his next move Spencer tilts in closer and kisses him back, slow and methodical and Hotch feels that. Feels it the way he’s felt every moment they had and shared the whole night. His free hand finds that sharp jaw framed in messy curls getting longer all over again, and Spencer doesn’t seem to know what to do with his hands beyond grasp at Hotch’s shirt at his sides and then -- 
Then Hotch pulls back enough that he can nudge his nose against Spencer’s carefully, a punctuation that ends the kiss soft and apologetic. Silently says that’s all they can do tonight. That there’s more, awaiting them, but that… 
That had been one hell of a good first kiss.
“See you in the morning, Spencer.” 
For once, Dr. Spencer Reid is speechless in an entirely new way, and he merely nods with lips still parted and a little darker from the kiss. From kissing him, and Hotch knows he stares more than he should, but that’s been a frequent occurrence lately. It’s just getting harder and harder to turn away, watch Reid -- Spencer -- smile at him in that quiet way only ever directed at him, and then walk away. But he lets it happen, feels every step even as he shuts the door behind him.
Because Hotch will see Spencer tomorrow.
And, one day, maybe he won’t have to watch him walk away at all. 
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aspec-writers · 2 years
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Aro Characters and Dating
Hello! Because I’m talking about something somewhat controversial today, I would like to say please fully read the post before firing off an angry reply! This issue has some nuance to it, and you might get the wrong impression is you don’t read the whole thing. And if this post is too long for you to read, there is a tl;dr at the end. I don’t expect this to happen, and hope it won’t, but if your response to my post attacks a position I don’t actually hold, especially if I disagree with that position in this very post, I’m probably just going to tell you to reread it. 
However, if you have actual criticism, I’d love to hear it! I’m open to changing my mind; I just don’t want to engage with people who aren’t reading the post they’re criticizing.
And if you’re wondering what’s up with the massive hiatus: I’ve been very busy!
Anyways, today I’d like to talk about something that there doesn’t seem to be a very strong consensus on: aro characters and dating!
(Also, a post about ace characters and sex is going to come out eventually...again, busy life.)
So I’d like to give you my opinion on whether it’s okay for aro characters to date. It is: yes, with nuance. Which is something you should get used to if you decide to stick around, because ‘with nuance’ is just about everywhere in life.
Different Forms of Aro Characters and Dating
There are actually a few ways in which aro characters can interact with dating. And, of course, they all have their own nuances.
#1: Aro Characters Dating Because They Don’t Know They’re Aro
This one is actually the lived experience of many aros!
Amatonormativity has taught us several things, but only two of them are of significant importance for this particular issue: romance is the strongest form of attachment between two humans, everyone falls in love/has crushes, and that men and women cannot have a strictly platonic relationship if they aren’t blood relatives.
Aros don’t experience romance like alloros do (I know, an obvious statement), and due to the extreme ignorance of aro identities in modern society, we grow up learning that everyone experiences romantic feelings, no exceptions. 
This combination leads to many young aros assuming any platonic feelings towards a member of the opposite binary gender is a crush.
If they’re not told about aromanticism as they grow into their adolescence and adulthood, this leads to these aros acting on their ‘crushes’ and dating them, even if they aren’t actually attracted to them.
In order for this to be in play, the creator has to be aware of aromanticism and of the results amatonormativity has on us.
It’s safe to say that this creator does not intend to erase aromantics, but rather to show an experience that isn’t uncommon and provide representation to us.
(Note: this doesn’t apply to characters that are HC’d as aro and are in canonical romantic relationships, although this can be the explanation the person with the headcanon believes to be the cause for the relationship.) 
#2: Arospec Characters Dating (And Aro Doesn’t Have to Mean ‘Never Feels Romantic Attraction Ever’)
So, if you’re unaware, aro is often an umbrella term for a whole lot of people! And all of those people aren’t ‘plain’ aro. (I don’t mean to use this term offensively! I, myself, am a ‘plain’ aro.) Demiros exist. Grayros exist. Many of these people can, and do, call themselves aro! 
Not to mention, aro has the generally accepted definition of ‘experiences little to no romantic attraction’, so under this definition, even people who identify as ‘plain’ aro, can experience romantic attraction, although it is very rare.
Both of the above cases (being arospec or ‘breakthrough’ romantic attraction with a ‘plain’ aro) are perfectly valid.
Although, to be honest, alloromantic writers should probably stay away from the second case. Because it can read like erasure. (I might make a post or something about writing aros as an alloro later, but it will probably just be a google doc linked in the intro post. Because this blog was, generally, supposed to be a place for aspec writers, not explaining aros and aces to allos.) The second case is something I’d really only recommend aro/arospec writers explore, and even then, there’s a chance it could be done poorly. But saying ‘never, ever do this’ is not something I like to say, especially because I know there’s at least a few aros out there who have this as their lived experience and I in no way want to invalidate that. 
#3: Aro Characters Dating Because They're Romance-Favorable or Otherwise Enjoy Romance
If you’ve hung around the aro community at all, you’ll know that there are different ways to describe someone’s personal attitude towards romance. The five that are in common use are romance repulsed, romance averse, romance indifferent, romance favorable, and romance ambivalent. 
There are plenty of people who don’t subscribe to this framework, as well.
However, the point is that aromantic is not equivalent to hating all romance and never desiring romance at all.
Aromantic is a lack of attraction, not a complete desire to be in a relationship.
As I, personally, am romance-repulsed, I am not going to write an essay on how to properly represent aros who enjoy romance/date. That’s not my place.
However, this is certainly a possibility for why an aro character may be dating and I want you to keep this in the back of your mind as something that could happen and is also the experience of some aros!
But Wait, Isn’t It Erasure???
Aro characters and dating. Characters who don’t feel romantic attraction and romantic relationships.
Sounds pretty weird or impossible, right? Well, it’s not!
Have you ever dated someone that, in hindsight, you weren’t actually attracted to? Congratulations! You can now understand how aro characters could date.
I outlined above a few ways an aro character may date, so I’m not going to go over them here.
The point is, it’s not erasing a character’s identity if you’re representing the experience of many people of said identity!
That being said, there are some people who will pull the ‘aros can date regardless’ card out in bad faith. When it comes down to it, aros are still different from alloros. Their experiences won’t be the same as that of an alloro character.
If you see a creator responding to someone pointing out one of the characters in a ship is canonically aro with ‘but aros can date!’, it’s a red flag. It’s possible that the creator is hiding behind aros who do date as an excuse to keep their favorite ship. I’m not saying this is always the case. Just as there is bad-faith representation, there can be bad-faith critiques. But, if you see this critique echoed many times, it’s likely that the creator is not representing a romance-favorable aro or an arospec character and is simply erasing aromantics. 
The real question to ask is ‘during discussions of romance, is this character written as aro?’. If the answer is no, chances are, the creator is not representing aros. If the answer is yes, the creator is most likely providing good representation.
You can apply the same thing to your own writing. If the character reads as someone who is entirely alloro, you’re probably doing something wrong.
(Note: there is a huge difference between ‘this character’s romantic orientation is not focused on and there is no discussion of them and romance’ and ‘this character is involved with romantic plotlines and shows literally nothing to suggest that they could be aro’. The first case is simply a story that chooses to not focus on romance. I write plenty of those; it’s okay. The second is erasure. It is not erasure to not mention a character’s orientation; it is erasure to ignore, or, well, erase, a character’s orientation. A character is not ‘allo until proven otherwise’.)
Homophobia? No.
I’ve seen a few posts saying that the idea of aro characters dating is homophobic. This may seem a little...bizarre. I had the same gut reaction. However, I read the post and while I could see where the poster was coming from, they made a few serious missteps.
The main argument here is that if aro characters can date (or, in most cases, aro people, period) it is homophobic, because it suggests that someone can date a person they are not attracted to. In other words, according to the argument, gay people and lesbians should be expected to date the opposite binary gender, because you don’t have to be attracted to someone to date them.
Saying gay people and lesbians should date the opposite binary gender and not the people they’re attracted to is homophobic. This is correct.
However, just because an aro person is dating someone they are not attracted to, that does not mean gay people and lesbians must. The key point here is choice.
An aro person, or character, can choose to date someone, despite not being attracted to them. This aro is not saying that other people should do the same. They are making a choice for themselves. 
Let’s use an analogy.
Alex doesn’t feel the urge to eat cookies. However, eating cookies is not repulsive to him. He may enjoy the feeling of swallowing the cookie. As such, Alex may eat a cookie, despite the fact that he does not particularly feel the urge to eat said cookie. There are many reasons Alex may eat a cookie, but they are not relevant.
Now, Bob comes along. People try to tell him to eat sugar cookies, but he’d much rather eat chocolate chip cookies. He says that Alex eating cookies is harmful to him, because if Alex eats cookies he does not feel an urge to eat, he is essentially saying that Bob should eat sugar cookies, despite the fact that he wants to eat a chocolate chip cookie.
The problem here is that Alex is not forcing Bob to eat sugar cookies instead of chocolate chip cookies. Alex is eating cookies for his reasons, despite not feeling an urge to eat them, but he is not forcing Bob to eat sugar cookies.
Bob is free to never eat a sugar cookie and eat exclusively chocolate chip cookies. Alex eating cookies does not change that.
I’m not sure if this analogy actually helped, but maybe it did.
Bottom line, aro characters dating despite not feeling romantic attraction does not mean gay people and lesbians should date the opposite binary gender.
TL;DR
Saying ‘aro characters can’t date, no exceptions’ is a well-meant but unhelpful statement. Aro characters are allowed to date without the representation becoming erasure and/or arophobic, provided that the character doesn’t actually have romantic feelings for the other person(s) involved in the relationship, assuming the character does not have an arospec identity, in which case romantic attraction is perfectly logical and not erasure. This is because, at its core, aromanticism isn’t being repulsed by romance or being averse to dating, but simply not experiencing romantic attraction. Also, aro characters dating isn’t them trying to say that gay and lesbian characters should date the opposite binary gender.
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bamf-jaskier · 4 years
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Accidental Witcher AU
Just gonna put this here so I can find it later if I ever start writing again...
...
alright so accidental Witcher Jaskier
which is objectively hilarious. No more angst, no glamour, no memory loss or curse NOPE all we have is an absolutely shitfaced Jaskier, a Geralt who left his bag at the inn and isn't coming back until the morning.
Jaskier starts mixing together Witcher potions, why wouldn't he? He's drunk, they are shiny, what isn't there to like?
So Jaskier mixes these potions and it left with a black liquid, dark like tar. And what does this man do? What does this renowned Bard do? HE DRINKS IT
and when Jaskier wakes up the next morning, he realizes oh FUCK he can say a lot more things than the night before, he can smell a lot more things too, damn he reeks.
He looks in the mirror and thank fuck his eyes are still blue somehow but when he looks directly into the light they dilate just a bit, all Cat-eyed. Well. Okay. Jaskier isn't stupid. Something bad happened last night and now he's a Witcher.
But here's the thing: making himself physiologically a Witcher doesn't mean he's a Witcher now. He doesn't know much about the path (besides what Geralt has told him) and he has NO IDEA how to use that huge ass pointy Witcher swords. And the LAST THING he wants is for people to expect him to run around wearing armor and fighting monsters. He would much rather prefer to follow a Witcher around and perform.
So what does Jaskier do? Pretends nothing happened.
Geralt comes back from his contract that day and there is...something different about Jaskier but he can't put his finger on it. Jaskier meanwhile is desperately trying to get used to all these new sense and after accidentally breaking a door handle finds out that Witchers are just a little bit stronger than the average person. He practices with his lute until he can control his strength (and music is such a good way to practice controlling his strength)
And Jaskier just continues traveling with Geralt pretending nothing has happened. Partially because he doesn't want Geralt to get it into his head that he ought to be "trained" (Jaskier will carry a sword the day he dies) and partially because he's embarrassed to admit he recreated the lost recipe to the trials shitfaced.
Of course, if Jaskier's songs begin to focus a little more on a Witcher's senses and are just a touch too realistic about a Witcher's sense of smell? Well Jaskier needs a coping mechanism somehow and the world STINKS now.
Now, Geralt is smart, but even he wouldn't suspect Jaskier of accidentally becoming a Witcher but he knows something is wrong. So what does he do? He starts testing Jaskier to see what's wrong.
At first Geralt thinks its a doppler but that is quickly proven wrong when Jaskier falls directly into a mud puddle and makes Geralt stop at a bathhouse to change and clean up.
He thinks Jaskier has a secret lover but then he see him sleep with someone in a tavern.
Maybe Jaskier is under a curse, but the medallion doesn't even hum.
Geralt even asks Yen to check if Jaskier is under a glamour or a spell and she tells him no.
Geralt has no idea what to do so he asks Yen to dig and find out.
Yen and Jaskier like to gossip and drink together so while Geralt goes off on a contract Yennefer and Jaskier get together to bitch and stitch a little.
Once more, drunk Jaskier starts talking about how he totally accidentally made himself a witcher and he has no idea what to do now. Yennefer of course, doesn't believe him. She thinks he just fucked up and took some potions with temporary side effects that will wear off eventually.
so OF COURSE Jaskier grabs Geralt's bag and begins making the Witcher potion once more. And he holds up this tar-potion, drunk as all hell and declares he is the maker of Witcher and the god of the skies. Then Yennefer steals the bottle, pushes a drunk Jaskier to the ground and chugs the potion.
She wakes up the next morning with a resounding FUCK as her purple eyes dilate in the light. Yennefer didn't even think mages could become Witchers? What the fuck was in that potion Jaskier made?
Jaskier and Yennefer both freak out. Now they are both in deep shit and Jaskier has definitely discovered how to make more Witchers but can only do it while drunk, sober attempts to recreate the potion have been met with no success.
Geralt returns and now BOTH Yennefer and Jaskier are acting weird and fuck what's wrong with them?
Geralt comes to the COMPLETELY wrong conclusion that Jaskier and Yennefer are sleeping together.
Cue Geralt trying to make weirdly supportive comments about Jaskier and Yennefer and the two of them acting super weird because, "does he know? what the hell is Geralt talking about now?"
Geralt: I would support the two of you no matter your life choices
Jaskier: wait does he know?
Yennefer: is he trying to invite us to go monster hunting with him?
Jaskier: Oh gods, please don't let it be that
For Yennefer, the transition from Mage to Witcher-Mage isn't all that different. She supposes she's a bit stronger now and her sense are enhanced but honestly she's really just shocked that drunk Jaskier managed to recreate the trials.
Witchers put on muscle a LOT faster than humans and are better at retaining it. What does this mean? Jaskier, who previously was tall but not exactly a brick shithouse like Geralt is suddenly getting muscle definition and OH NO he doesn't like that. His doublets are getting too tight and Jaskier basically desperately trying to not build muscle which goes against the biological instinct of Witchers.
Cue Jaskier cutting his protein and doing lots of cardio to stay smaller and more lithe. Jaskier refusing to pick things up or do any kind of arm exercises.
Jaskier: Geralt can I tie my lute to Roach's side, I can't carry it anymore
Geralt: why?
Jaskier: .... because
This is when Jaskier buys his horse Pegasus so he doesn't walk quite as much (he unfortunately finds out that horseback riding give you great thigh muscles)
Meanwhile Yennefer doesn't give a shit and she is building some truly fantastic arm muscles in the corner.
Geralt stops by Yen's place on the way to Kaer Morhen and she is....chopping wood a la Captain America with an ax. When Geralt watches Yennefer rip apart a log with her bare hands he literally swoons. Jaskier catches him.
Of course, Geralt STILL thinks Jaskier and Yennefer are sleeping together so he begins to make comments about Yennefer's new look and immediately apologizing because he doesn't want to overstep his bounds.
Geralt: Yen ur looking very powerful lately
looks at Jaskier and back to Yennefer
Geralt: not that u didn't always look powerful, and not that I care or think that's it's attractive or anything.
Jaskier: what...?
Yennefer: Are you saying I'm not attractive Geralt?
Geralt: no...I'm...fuck
Jaskier: hello fuck nice to meet you I'm Jaskier.
Okay but after a few months of Geralt making pointed comments about Yen and Jaskier they begin to think he is trying to matchmake them.
Jaskier: I think that Geralt wants us to bone
Yennefer: he does keep making comments about us alone together in the bedroom, I thought he was joking but-
Jaskier: he just left the room and told us to 'have fun'
Yennefer: I mean, should we?
Jaskier: yeah, sounds fun
okay but IMAGINE. Jaskier and Yennefer are sleeping together right? and they decide to spend a Winter at Kaer Morhen with Geralt who just acquired a new child surprise and they show up at the Wolf Keep and Vesemir (who knows these things) is like, "what schools are these Witchers from" and Geralt just...blanks
Geralt: these aren't Witchers?? One is a bard and the other is a mage??
Vesemir: No these are definitely Witchers
Geralt: ???
Jaskier: ...
Yennefer: ...
Jaskier: OKAY SO LONG STORY
TL;DR Drunk Jaskier mixes together a bunch of potions, him and Yennefer end up drinking them and becoming accidental Witchers, they hide it from Geralt and end up sleeping together due to Geralt misreading the situation
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raeynbowboi · 4 years
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How Kipo Makes Great Villains
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I stayed up all night binging the second season of Kipo and the Age of Wonderbeasts, and I’ll admit. Going into it, my expectations were a bit low. Season One had such a self-contained objective, I didn’t know what the show was going to do with itself with a second season. But the second season of Kipo blew me out of the water. So, now I’m going to rant about why Scarlemagne and Jamack are fantastic villains for Kipo to confront, and what Kipo teaches us about writing antagonists. Obviously, spoilers ahead, but if you’re caught up, prepare to gush over great villains. If you’re not, do yourself a favor and go away, experience the second season for yourself, and then come back and fangasm over how great it was.
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JAMACK
Kipo’s first antagonist is a perfect character foil. That is to say, Jamack is the exact opposite of Kipo. When Jamack meets Kipo, they are in exact opposite situations. He’s in a group while she’s alone. Later, when Kipo finds friends and is no longer alone, Jamack is kicked out of his group, forcing him to survive on his own. Jamack is very focused on self-interest and self-preservation, belittling his underlings for minor mistakes. His outlook is cold, cynical, and jaded. On top of that, Jamack grew up in this crazy world where only the strong survive. He’s also a part of the Mob Frogs, which seem to be the only mute culture with internal hierarchy. Other groups have a leader, but only the Mob Frogs seem to have levels of rank within the organization, causing the Mob Frogs to be competitive, even among themselves. So it makes perfect sense why Jamack will stoop to pretty much anything to get what he wants. Because that’s the mentality that allows for upward mobility in Las Vista. Thus, when Kipo arrives and upends the status quo and proves Jamack’s way of living wrong, he lashes out. Initially seeing it as her stealing his life from him, Jamack begins to gradually change. Jamack is on a similar and reflected hero’s journey to Kipo, and as she grows, so too will he. It’s no surprise that Jamack will eventually become a genuine ally of Kipo, even if he’s still hiding behind a Tsundere mask.
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SCARLEMAGNE
My god is this a fantastic villain. In the first season, he was genuinely creepy and intimidating, but in season 2, Hugo became incredibly sympathetic. As season 2 went on, I kept debating to myself who is more of the Zuko of this show: Jamack or Hugo. Scarlemagne serves the same narrative purpose as the Diamonds in Steven Universe, about how words and kindness can work through problems. But I think it’s done a little better here, since Hugo isn’t a world-destroying dictator. He’s done some damage, but nothing that was really lasting. His pheremones can wear off. The humans he’s enslaved can regain their freedom. So, Hugo’s actual damage as a villain is much smaller and thus much more forgivable than immortal galactic conquerors. Hugo shows this deeply in that he genuinely seems like he wants to make Kipo happy, but he’s been hurt for so long that he doesn’t understand how to. And this genuine care seems to come a lot more from his core personality, and not just Kipo making friendship speeches. Even Steven didn’t really change the minds of the Diamonds. He just kind of proved he was their sister/nephew, and they suddenly cared about what he had to say. With Hugo, it’s much easier to see that he’s not a monster, just a scared and confused man lashing out to maintain control in a barbaric world. It makes him a character who you don’t want to see succeed in his evil plans, but you don’t want to watch him fail and lose everything he's worked for. You simultaneously want to hug him, and also punch him. It’s that perfect balance that makes Scarlemagne so well-written. He’s officially on my list of top 10 tv cartoon villains. Also, it’s hysterical that Hugo is voiced by the live action Beast, and the second half of this season was honestly a better Beauty and the Beast story than the live action movie. Am I the only one who hears Dr. Animo from Ben 10 when Scarlemagne speaks though?
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DR. EMILIA
Talk about bait and switch. I don’t know if it was their intention, but I assumed the woman in the bird mask was Song, Kipo’s mother. It was clear that she and her goons were wearing burrow jumpsuits, and as it seemed more and more like her mother wasn’t dead, so I assumed this had to be her. This was such a great misdirection. Assuming she’s the hero because of our opinions of Scarlemagne, it’s what gives this show such amazing rewatch potential as now you can go back and pay attention to her words and actions and realize what she’s genuinely like. But even on a character level, she’s a fantastic villain. Kipo is a master of Talk no Jutsu, a fan term from the Naruto fandom, as he had a knack for talking literally anyone into becoming his friend, even the ones actively trying to kill him. Steven Universe and Kipo seem to be the other two masters of this technique. But Dr. Emilia will likely be immune to this. She doesn’t strike me as the sit and talk things out type. Because there are times when words won’t stop people, but action will. Dr. Emilia is a villain Kipo can’t reason with, someone she can’t befriend with a good speech. But even on a philosophical level, Dr. Emilia is fantastic because while she’s clearly a villain, her goal isn’t inherently evil. She sees mutation as a bad thing and wants to restore mute DNA to their normal animal forms. Which is a large part of why humans need to live in burrows. She wants humans to not live in fear, and to restore animals to their genetic origins. At least in theory, it’s a benign enough goal. The problem comes when you consider that animal mutes have sentience. they can speak and express desires. Robbing them of that is akin to purposefully mentally disabling a group in order to be dominant over them, which adds to the great themes here because there’s a loose veil of animals as an enslaved species. Kept in cages or as pets, ruled over or hunted by man who views itself as the superior race, the same sort of thinking that white slave-owners used to rationalize their prejudice. Thus it’s also a loose allegory for Dr. Emilia wanting to return emancipated slaves back to their chains. This is why she’s such a good villain. At face value, her goal sounds sort of reasonable, but when you examine what she’s really doing, it’s incredibly dark and cruel. That level of detail and writing is amazing. Talk about a well-written villain. I’m sorry, I can’t stop gushing.
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Kipo demonstrates three equally compelling types of villains, and handles all of them amazingly. Jamack is the hero’s villainous foil, on his own mirrored hero’s journey as hers. His situation is always an exact opposite of hers, as was his life experiences, which led to such a stark difference of ideas. Thus, why it takes her utterly alien character traits to kick start his character arc. Hugo is a beautifully flawed and tragic villain whose goal of bringing the mutes together under a single ruler is genuinely compelling, but you still don’t want him to succeed the wrong way. Yet, if he could achieve his goal in a less hostile and evil way, I doubt fans would be upset with him achieving this goal otherwise. It’s just his approach that’s problematic. Dr. Emilia seems reasonable enough on paper, but once you unpack what she’s really doing, you can read a really deep allegory for slavery and racial superiority into her character that really complicates the otherwise black-and-white opinion of her character. Each of these villains shows ways you can make a compelling antagonist, and if you read this without watching Kipo and the Age of Wonderbeats despite my spoiler warnings, do yourself a favor and watch it. You will not be disappointed.
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milk-carton-whump · 3 years
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I like writing backstory stuff, it's always fun to see who a pet whumpee was before everything.
Tagging: @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @cowboy-anon @tears-and-lilies @unicornscotty @albino-whumpee @sideblogformindtrash @heathenwhump @myst-in-the-mirror @whumpasaurus101
CW: pet whump, talk of human pets, captivity, kidnapping, captured
Benett's Price
Junk. Junk. Junk. This was different...
His eyes scanned the envelope, his name was expertly written across the front of it. The logo in the corner was familiar and the more he looked at it, he realized exactly what it was. 
The Company was well known for providing top quality human pets for the public to buy. Each one was always advertised to be fully trained and a perfect companion, eager to please their owner. For some it was a last resort to be there and for others it was a dream to be behind the walls of such a prestigious company. 
Now Benett looked at the letter, he didn't remember applying or anything and now assumed that it was some form of advertisement. His eyes swept over the front again and couldn't get it out of his head that his name was handwritten. Whatever was in the envelope had to be important. 
Walking back through the halls of his on-campus residence hall was a nice trip as he ripped the top of the envelope open. He tucked the rest of the junk mail and a small package that had come for his roommate under his arm. He read over the enclosed letter, his walk picking up to a jog as he neared his room. 
"I got a job!" He exclaimed with excitement as he entered the room.
His roommate looked up at him grinning happily. The two were almost inseparable as roommates. 
"Holy shit! Where?? When do you start?" She asked as she got up to look at the letter. 
"The.. um! The Company! They…. They want to hire me… I think maybe one of my professors sent in a good word about me." He excitedly looked over the letter again. "I've always wanted to work there. This… this is amazing!" 
"Benett, I'm so proud of you! You're gonna have to tell me all about it… it looks like they want you to come in first thing tomorrow too."
With that, the pair went over what he should wear and bought dinner as they anxiously awaited the morning. 
----
Benett walked up to the front desk, the woman behind the desk looked up at him curiously then smiled warmly. He was sure she could tell he was nervous and entirely unprepared for the job he would be taking on.
"Welcome to The Company, how can I help you?" She asked sweetly. 
"Oh! Um hello, my name is Benett Price, I got a letter saying that I had been given a job here? Um, who would I talk to about that?" 
"Ah yes! Mister Price, Doctor Birch has spoken extensively of you. You can go up to her office on the third floor, second door on the right. She's expecting you." 
"Um, thank you." Benett smiled back and turned to the elevator, taking it up to the third floor where he knocked on the door he'd been pointed to. 
Upon entering he was met by a woman who's long blonde hair was pulled back in a low ponytail and a largely unimpressed look on her face. However as she saw him, she smiled. 
"Benett Price? I'm Doctor Taylor Birch, it's a pleasure to finally meet you. Your professors recommended you to me and well, I felt you could show true potential. Are you ready to start?" 
"Yes Ma'am! I can't tell you how excited I am to be here! I… being at headquarters where the pet's are trained is…. It's a dream come true! Thank you so much for giving me this chance." He grinned excitedly. 
She lead him out of her office and to the elevator, taking it down below the ground floor to where they kept all the pet's in training. Long hallways had numerous doors on each side and led to relatively small rooms. 
"These are where the pet's spend their first months with us until they are ready to really begin their training… it's a long and delicate process but eventually all applicants are ready for training." Dr. Birch said casually as she led him through the hallway on a small tour. 
Her key slid into one of the locks and opened it, pushing open the door in the process. 
"And here is one of the rooms that the pet stays in, go ahead and look around… you're going to know it very well." She said the last part after he entered the room. 
Benett whipped around, his face filled with confusion before it flooded with terror as the door slammed shut. His hands grabbed at the door handle, yanking on it but it was too late, the door didn't budge. 
"Wait! Wait wait wait please wait I'm still in here!! Doctor Birch!? Please let me out!!" He begged in a panic, still uselessly pulling at the door. 
----
Hours went by, the door never opened again that day. He'd taken to tucking himself in the corner, near the door, hoping he would be let out soon. This was all just a silly mistake and it would be over soon.. Tomorrow would come, he'd be let out, he was sure of it. 
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beyondspaceandstars · 3 years
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While You Sleep
Chapter 18
Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: angst Summary: Soulmate!AU - Throughout life, you’re given glimpses of your soulmate through dreams. As you sleep, memories flash in your mind showing you the life your soulmate has lived. Everyone around you raves about how their soulmate reads great books or volunteers in their spare time. But you can’t relate as your dreams end up being more like nightmares. Through initial images of death and violence, you come to learn your soulmate is the Winter Soldier.
A/N: so sorry I’ve been slow with updating Tumblr - my blog was shadowbanned (basically Tumblr hid my blog in searches, notifications, tags, etc.) and it just got fixed so I’m working to update here!
Masterlist | Series Masterlist
“You’re back,” Dr. G smiled as you plopped down in the seat across from her. 
You resisted the urge to roll your eyes and instead forced a tight smile. “I’m back,” you confirmed with a dramatic nod for emphasis. You didn’t know why you were feeling so hostile. You had shown up here willingly this time. 
Bucky didn’t even know you were seeing your therapist again. But it wasn’t exactly like he was around to find out. He had left for his mission yesterday in the very early morning and you were now on constant edge. You didn’t know what he would encounter. You knew none of it was at your clearance level seeing as you had no government clearance level to begin with but still… You didn’t like that anything that went wrong would come back to you in the depths of your sleep. Even if Bucky had shared everything step-by-step, any mishap was another blow. Even if everything went right, you feared you were bound to see something. 
“Would you like to share anything?” Your therapist asked, disrupting your spiraling thoughts. It was like she knew and, well, maybe she did. You really did kind of suck at hiding your emotions. You could practically feel your face darkening with worry. 
“Bucky and I learned something about us recently,” you said a bit nervously but Dr. G nodded in encouragement. You tried to steady your breathing and continued, “Our soulmate bond has been disrupted. It happened when he was part of Hydra — I mean, not like part of. That makes it sound like he joined willingly which he absolutely did not—,”
Your therapist said your name sharply, cutting off your words. “I know what you meant,” she said.
You nodded briefly, recomposing yourself, and began again, “While under Hydra, he was brainwashed and in that process, they thought they had rid him of his soulmate. But, turns out, all they were doing was tampering with the transmission lines. This means any sort of trauma or… or really emotional occurrences in Bucky’s life gets passed along to me, intercepting any, well, normal dreams. And there’s nothing we can do about it.”
“Nothing?”
You glanced away. “Well, I’ve asked him to retire to maybe… minimize the damage.”
Dr. G nodded as she scribbled something on her notepad. She let out an interesting hum. “How did Bucky respond to that?”
You fought back the urge to roll your eyes. You weren’t really upset with him, more angered by the situation. “It took him a second to come around to the idea and, sure, eventually he did but then he was given another mission. A mission he couldn’t turn down.”
“And how did that make you feel?”
Another feeling of annoyance flashed across you at the cliche therapist speak but you could also recognize the question for its worth. Someone was actually asking you how you felt about the new, and last, mission. Lord knows Bucky hadn’t.
You bit your lip, feeling tears already threatening to run down your cheeks. “It made me feel bad, to put it simply. I just felt horrible and scared. I know that with time it’ll go away and maybe we’ll find some peace but I’m just really hurt it has to be this way.”
More notes were scribbled. “How did Bucky react to hearing that?” Dr. G asked without looking up. You shifted awkwardly in your seat, fiddling with your fingers out of habit. Your therapist glanced up once her writing has finished. Her brows raised as you struggled to find an answer.
“He doesn’t really know.”
Your therapist placed her pen on her notepad and leaned forward in her chair, eyeing you a bit upsettingly. “Do you remember what I told you during your last session?”
Talking. Talking, talking, talking. Just let it out. How could you forget? That’s exactly what you had done and while it made some kind of progress, you were still stuck at this godforsaken dead end for the time being. 
You picked at the chair cushion. “He didn’t ask,” you sighed. “Besides, what good was it going to do? I couldn’t have stopped the mission.”
Dr. G shrugged. “No, I doubt you could’ve, but that’s not the point. The point is you’re hurting and your soulmate needs to know this, especially when it involves him. You can’t beat around the bush or try to sidestep this kind of stuff. Be gentle, yes, but little progress can be made if everything is bottled in.”
“Well, doc, I’m sorry to break it to you, but I’m sure he knows very well how I feel about all of this,” you snapped back. “Think I made myself super clear during our first conversation about retirement.”
“Fine,” she shrugged. “Assume he did. Assume Bucky knew everything that was going through your mind. Did it open any conversation?”
Your shoulders slumped. You looked away. 
Dr. G continued, “My point exactly. Of course, you don’t want to hurt him but you can’t hurt yourself in the process. How many people actually knew about the nightmares to begin with?”
“None,” you mumbled. And it was, sadly, the truth. Your coworker was the first to know. You hadn’t even had the guts to tell your parents. 
“I’m sure I make it sound easier than it really is but there are some benefits to it over time,” your therapist said after a moment. 
You let out a dramatic sigh. “You’re kind of annoying, you know that?”
Your therapist laughed. “You’ve been wanting to bite back for a while, haven’t you?” You didn’t answer. She shrugged. “Already testing out those communication skills I see.”
You let yourself roll your eyes this time.
***
It was nearing midnight when your cell phone rang. You jumped, suddenly disturbed by the ringtone as you laid on your couch watching some sitcom reruns. You frowned in confusion as you stretched to reach your phone on the coffee table. You weren’t expecting any calls.
You turned the screen around and were greeted by one name: Bucky. You just about yelped when it registered he was calling you -- and from his mission, amazingly. You sat up quickly and answered.
“Hi, Buck,” you greeted, hopefully sounding a bit more cheerful than you felt. Your therapy session from the morning still had you a bit shaken. 
“Hey, doll,” Bucky responded, his voice a bit hoarse. He sounded exhausted and...defeated. 
You sink into the couch. “Is everything going okay?” You guessed it wasn’t too weird he was reaching out while away but something was off in his voice. You thought you had already mentally prepared for the worst.
“For the most part,” he mumbled. “I have to tell you, sweetheart, it wasn’t smooth sailing. We… We all had to do some things we aren’t proud of.”
You shut your eyes, trying to reel in your panicked brain before you said something you’d regret. This couldn’t all fall on Bucky, it wasn’t fair. He had a job, one final job, and you were going to have to accept that. 
Regaining your voice, you said, “What… What things, Bucky?”
He fell silent on the other end. All you could hear was some soft breathing and others talking in the background. The rest of the team you could guess. You said his name into the receiver again.
“Just know I didn’t like what I had to do and I can’t wait to put this life behind me.”
If that was all you were getting from him, you’d have to accept it. “Okay,” you said, your voice cracking slightly. “I-I understand.” You didn’t really but you knew after tonight you definitely would.
Bucky took another pause. “You deserve so much better than this.”
“Bucky-,”
“You really do, sweetheart.”
“Bucky, please, listen,” you sighed. “While this isn’t ideal and I was very upset you just jumped on this assignment without speaking to me, I know it won’t be like this forever, right? 
“I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you about the assignment before leaving,” Bucky responded. “I-I knew I couldn’t do anything about it but that’s still not fair to you. You deserve to be heard.”
“It’s okay, honey,” you said, fighting back some tears getting ready to start again. “You’re almost done, you’re almost back home.”
Bucky hummed. “I am,” he confirmed. “And when I get back I’m going to make up for all of this, I promise.”
You let out a weak laugh through the tears. “You can make it up to me by getting home safely.”
Bucky was about to say something else but was then cut off by someone yelling at him in the background. He gave a curt response before turning his attention back to you. “Sorry, doll, but I have to go. We have some debriefing to do.”
“Of course,” you said, waving a hand in the air like he could see you. “I’ll see you soon, alright?”
“See you soon, sweetheart,” he said. “Love you.”
The line cut before you had the chance to say the words back. You held your phone out in front of you, staring at your lit homescreen, shocked and overwhelmed. He loved you. And he had said it.
***
You were dreading getting ready to go to sleep but, at the same time, your body was practically begging for it. You were finally getting back into the swing of working and now with therapy sessions on top, you couldn’t believe how exhausting life was. As if you had forgotten at some point. 
But with that craved moment of relaxation, an unnerving threat lurked. 
You practically moved with caution when it came to your nighttime routine now. You washed your face carefully and precisely. You scrubbed every tooth again and again for a good minute. Even combing out your hair seemed to be tedious. 
It was all sad attempts at procrastination and you knew it but what could you do? It wasn’t like you were jumping into bed happily no matter how much your body screamed. 
When there was no more to do in your routine, you had to accept it. You had to finally lay down in your bed, let your head hit the pillow, curl up under the duvet, and welcome whatever kind of sleep was going to greet you. 
Almost immediately, you were hit with everything.
As always, you’re seeing it in glimpses from Bucky’s eyes, from his mind. In this instance, he appears to be located in some kind of warehouse. It almost reminded you of where you had been taken to but abandoned.
At first, Bucky seems pretty calm and collected. He’s assessing his surroundings and mapping out a plan. He says something to the person next to them. You can’t see them and possibly you don’t want to. 
They agree with whatever Bucky has suggested but before their plan can commence, they’re both attacked. Guns blazing, doors busting, a whole goddamn ambush. You’re panicking, you feel Bucky panicking. But it doesn’t last long for him. No, within seconds he’s in destruction mode, stomping towards the pop-up army - you don’t even know what they’re part of - dodging bullets and taking them down one by one. 
Some others are helping out it seems but you’re only allowed to be consumed with Bucky’s take on the situation. Despite how much you don’t want to be, especially when he… You see the glint of his metal arm rush past. They’re dying. Being killed. These soldiers or whatever are dropping left and right around him. You feel Bucky’s pulsing anger. He has no plans of slowing down. You feel the tension in his arm as he strangles another and another and another. At one point, he even throws some across the room.
They’re finished. No more men pour in. The rest of the team has stopped. They’re all looking at Bucky, wide-eyed and nervous. You feel his fury turn to shame. You didn’t know the mission’s expectations but you could guess they didn’t exactly involve this much death. No one says anything as they move on. 
The images fade but the feelings don’t. You suddenly want to cry in your sleep feeling Bucky’s distraught and embarrassment. 
Unable to deal with it anymore, you force yourself awake, everything vanishing as your eyes open. You look around your dark room. The clock beside your bed reads just past three a.m. 
You curl back into your blanket and face the wall. You stare at it for the rest of the night, heart pounding and hands shaking.
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