#my kids are behaving exactly as i see on tv and as i expect them to -- aw bless

[aspd-culture]

@brandon666

First off, you have some *really* inaccurate ideas of what ASPD is. Do you think we can survive in the world acting like you expect me to act? Far more often, pwASPD appear detached and callous rather than actively hostile the way you're saying. We aren't 12 year old kids on Xbox Live voice chat, * s p o o k y voice* we are all around you. You wouldn't be able to pick most of us out of a crowd, even if you had direct interaction with us. In fact, a running joke here and in my real life is that people often tell pwASPD "don't worry, I can sniff out a s*ciop*th a mile away" or similar not realizing they're talking shit about us to our face.

There *are* pwASPD who are still entirely valid who act the way you're saying - and also plenty of prosocials who behave like that too. But it isn't all of us, all the time. Most of us are capable of and maybe even prefer to be cool, calm, and calculated about how we speak and act because of the trauma we have.

Unlike people on TV like Dr. House, there are real life consequences to the behavior you describe, and many of us strive not to be happy, but for life to be as convenient as possible. Kinda hard to get convenience while you're pissing everyone off. Ever heard the part of ASPD where they mention we are manipulative and charismatic? Yeah that isn't exactly compatible with being crass, careless, pranking, or offensive. Careless actually specifically bothers me because we are often said to "play a social chess game" with people we talk to. Many of us are extremely calculating and overly cautious. And many of us aren't, but it certainly isn't like you're saying all the time. Even pwASPD who *do* act like that usually are calm and "respectful" sometimes.

Also, I never claimed to be unmasked on this blog. Most of the time, I am absolutely masking to some degree - although much less than IRL. You can actually see that in the tags, I use "a rare unmasked aspd-culture" as a joke about this fact. Whilst this is a safe place for other pwASPD to unmask if they'd like, my posts on this blog are different. My side of this is helping educate people - prosocial, antisocial, whoever - if/when they have questions for me about ASPD which is fairly frequent. This isn't to say I am not ok with unmasking here, like I said it's happened before, but consider the context of what's happening.

I'm often asked genuine questions about ASPD, some of which are ableist (almost always on accident!) and many of which are based on extremely common misconceptions. If I were to unmask while answering those, I would end up being really shitty to people who are trying to learn - often people who want to do better for the pwASPD in their life, or for themselves. We talk about coping mechanisms and the development of ASPD a lot here; with those topics there is little room for my unmasked behavior *and* education. If I were to unmask while answering, no one would be getting anything out of asking those questions even if I was providing info because it's hard to take in new information from someone when they're being defensive or hostile.

I don't want to be hostile towards them, I want to help because if ASPD is ever going to be destigmatized, someone has got to answer their questions and help show them what it is and what it isn't! We can't expect prosocials to fend for themselves in the cesspool of stigma that the typical google results on ASPD show - someone has to help them. And since one of my special interests (something autistic ppl like myself have and love to infodump about) is mental health, especially my own disorders, I am happy to be one of the people they can ask these sometimes tough questions to.

I am also helping pwASPD! Many questions I get are people trying to understand their own disorder or the disorder they think they might have. It sucked for me, learning this all on my own (and I'm still learning too), so I can use the cognitive empathy I've taught myself over the years and remember the feelings I went through when I was trying to find unbiased info.

There's a transaction here - a major part of ASPD if you didn't know - I calmly and respectfully answer people's questions, and the world becomes slightly less ignorant and we get a slight amount of progress on destigmatizing this disorder. That makes my life easier too. In the process, I see many culture asks that remind me I'm not alone in this. Often, posting those gives me some catharsis, and you will sometimes see me going off in the tags about what I've dealt with. But for the most part, I'm giving other pwASPD an open space to unmask as well as to ask questions to someone who will, 95% of the time, give a masked and respectful answer. Friendly is a stretch tho lol unless you missed the original post about the syscourse that you commented this on.

So yeah, long and short, you're definitely missing something here and that's ok. Just learn and do better. I know you might see that as another thing that is flying in the face of ASPD or whatever, but it's no skin off my back if you think I have ASPD or not, and anyway I'd rather you just learn and maybe next time someone says something like that to/around you about ASPD, you'll have the knowledge to correct it. Spreading info is an exponential situation - once I tell you guys things, some of you will inevitably tell someone else that, and so on and so forth until a good handful of people now know things about ASPD they didn't before. If not, oh well. I got to infodump and see relatable posts that made me feel seen.

Either way, it's been, and hopefully will continue to be, a net positive. You are absolutely welcome to keep this dialogue going if you have questions, want clarification, are enraged that I gave you a calm response, whichever. Even if you don't get anything out of this, someone else seeing it might.

I'll really fuck with you now - I genuinely hope you have a good day.

[its-a-lark-blog]

Autism and Nugenics

Alright. Now for a topic that means a lot to me. I didn't edit this, nor did I proofread it, because I want it to be as honest a stream of thought as I can muster. I want it to be as-is. I know it'll be an effort to get through but... please, don't knee jerk. I implore you to just walk away and come back to it, where I inevitably take this may not be where you expect.

The warnings of Elon Musk of AI ring hollow to me when I consider that it wasn't so long ago that white men were obsessed with eugenics; That hasn't changed. The target has, not the thinking.

Eugenics was all about breeding out undesirable traits and ensuring that the traits of 'lesser ethnicities' wouldn't impair the purity of the bloodline, it's what the Third Reich built upon for the atrocities it committed in the holocaust, it was thinking that allowed Hitler to justify his heinous misdeeds, and even to think of himself as the greater good.

Conversely, of late I've bore witness to Internet denizens making a good, college try at humanising Hitler. They remind us to not forget that this 'supposed monster' was a man.

This is a very Alt-Right perspective, of course. I think that any reasonable person would understand why it's necessary that we absolutely don't humanise Hitler. Hands up if you know. Anyone? Anyone? Alright, humanising a monster enables the creation of more monsters.

I mean, consider that if you're telling people that you eventually won't be remembered as a soulless monster centuries after your death? It creates this comfort zone, it normalises the behaviours and actions of monsters past -- monsters like Hitler, Stalin, and the company they kept. And contemporary monsters who're so similar to them in thought -- if not action -- that it leaves a bad taste in the mouth.

And that's why we must always remember them as monsters. It's important to remember that something can occupy a human shape, have white skin, and be one of the most cancerous, evil, destructive creatures to have ever walked this planet. All too often humans -- neurotypicals especially -- compartmentalise 'evil' as 'not like us.' This can go as far as the ludicrous, such as using fantasy creatures to embody evil, but it manifests also in much more dangerous ways.

Such as believing only black people can be evil, because they're black.

Okay, I'm going to take the train down a different rail for now into Segue Valley, I promise it'll all make sense in the end. In The Elder Scrolls Online, a video game, I was intrigued by how the factions actually handled the 'evil' they were dealing with. And oh my, it was fascinating. I could write an entire dissertation on this because everything about the creation of this sometimes wonderful, sometimes typical game is telling.

There are three factions: The Pact, the Covenant, and the Dominion.

The Pact and the Covenant are equally as guilty of demonising 'that which isn't like us' as the only existant source of evil; I feel that this writing is very appealing to neurotypicals who tend to filter everything through us vs. them thinking, as confounding, vexing, and utterly disappointing as that invariably is. It's wearisome, really. I'm tired of it, I'll say that!

The Pact and the Covenant are reminiscent of how groups like the Alt-Right see the world -- Groups who're clearly less actualised people, less independent thinkers who want sociopaths to handle all of that for them. They'd rather have an icon tell them how to think or feel; It's the same reason people buy Apple phones. They want someone to tell them what to think, how to feel; All it takes is for a charismatic sociopath to step boldly into that void.

Do note the drop in Apple's popularity since the loss of Steve Jobs, yes?

Anyway, you'll notice there's a third faction I haven't spoken of: The Dominion. They're an interesting bunch, they are. They barely take notice of the other factions because that's just war, and war has never been the most compelling narrative concept. Falling back on such a staid concept which has so much baggage and weight to it feels creatively bankrupt.

So the Dominion doesn't do that because they don't want to engage in this us vs. them problem. Instead, the Dominion focuses on 'us' with the pertinent, erudite realisation that there are problems amongst 'us' and that we're not a homogeneous hivemind, that even within the perceived melange of 'us' there are many different opinions and ideologies. If I had to put it bluntly, the plot of the Dominion is about a fantasy Alt-Right.

And it's so cathartic to punch Nazi elves in the face.

I can't even... I mean, it's just really cathartic. Usually I'm witness to fantasy compartmentalising 'evil' as 'not like us,' which I mentioned prior, which often means having dragons to slay. Couldn't have a wise and kind draig instead of dragons, nooo, that simply isn't done. One has to compartmentalise 'evil' as 'them,' don't you know, because neurotypicals are the only audience. Well, the Dominion plotline isn't that. And it's bloody cathartic.

There's even a fantasy concentration camp where the Nazi elves are trying to break and brainwash their enemies into seeing themselves as innately inferior. You get to punch THOSE Nazi elves in the face, too.

Quoth Savage Dragon: Always punch a Nazi.

Always. ALWAYS.

Since Nazi isn't a person, or a place, it's a CONCEPT. This is something that I'll see neurotypicals trip over time and time again; It's why we have neo-Nazis and the Alt-Right to contend with, now. Nazism ins't indicative of Germany, or any place, or any point in history; It's where the ideology was born, yes, but note what it is -- an ideology. It could exist at any point or time, and it still does exist in the minds of every Alt-Right person.

A Nazi doesn't have to be white, or male, or anything you might assume is baggage to the ideology -- a Nazi is simply a person who took 'us vs. them' too far and became a monster, either through acts of atrocity or the desire to commit them.

In the case of the Alt-Right? The desire is crossing over into reality, I'd recommend a little light reading via Google as to how murder and terror crimes committed by the Alt-Right and other, similar, far-right groups are rising all the time.

Charlottesville was the tip of a nasty ice berg.

Some people saw it coming; I mean, white supremacists have always been around and The Elder Scrolls Online was already in development before the rise of the Alt-Right. Except the Dominion has an Alt-Right story -- because both the Veiled Heritance in The Elder Scrolls Online and the Alt-Right in this reality we call home are based on Nazi ideology.

And you should always punch a Nazi.

Throughout history we have had names for people who've embraced being a monster by taking 'us vs. them' too far, and that's coalesced into Nazi as the quintessence of these very unfortunate people, people who've sold their humanity to follow the most petty of ideals.

It's why people have started taking to calling the Alt-Right Nazis, that's just what they are. See a Nazi, say Nazi! Because it's a bloody Nazi. Nazi notions, though, can be found in all walks of life and can often be used to identify the sorts of people who should be avoided, who shouldn't ever have any power at all. I'm actually glad that The Elder Scrolls Online recognises that, I just wish reality would follow suit.

In reality we should be punching more Nazis, both figuratively and literally. As it's not okay to be a monster.

Neurotypicals have gotten so good at compartmentalising the concepts of evil that when asked to 'visualise evil' most of them would think of dragons or devils rather than a creature like Hitler, and that's tremendously troubling. There was this fridge horror element to it for me, at least, where the realisation compounded itself, more and more, that these woefully deluded people occupy the same reality that I do.

I don't see dragons or devils in my reality; I do see Hitler, the Alt-Right, and people who take 'us vs. them' thinking far too far. They're the monsters I see, they don't have scaly hides, they're humans, just like the one I imagine is reading this. If anyone does.

It's this compartmentalising of evil that allows for the most bizarre constructs to be built, too. I mean, fantasy racism is one of hte most fascinating topics for me because it's so illustrative of this problem that neurotypicals have -- that they can't escape from. I'm going to cite another game, now, before we leave Segue Valley.

Guild Wars.

In the original Guild Wars, the players were propagandised by the perspective of a group of humans called the Ascalonians to see the charr as evil. Whereas in reality the Ascalonians were more like Nazi Germany, just depicted as idyllic and good from the perspective of the player within the game.

It was an unintentional social expeirment, I think, but one of the most truly, genuinely profound and important ones I've witnessed in a long time.

I wholeheartedly invite psych researchers to look into this. Please do! It's enlightening and terrifying.

Anyway -- It was revealed that Ascalon was literally Nazi Germany, committing genocide against a race that couldn't really fight back (since the humans had superior firepower in the form of their gods, as an abstract of contemporary nations with more advanced technology than others). It's an accepted truth that the Ascalonians were slaughtering the women, children, and innocents of this race simply because their ruling body believed these 'creatures' to be nothing more than animals.

Animals who could be cleared out to make space for the humans.

The 'animals,' the charr, were sent into disarray and due to this chaos a very negative faction within the charr who'd been a joke up until this point took power. Sound familiar?

They enslaved the rest of the charr with the power of yet another god they'd allied with and used that god's power to nuke the Ascalonian peoples. This was depicted from the Ascalonian perspective as 'evil monsters who rained devastation down upon us and stole our home.'

Actually, the charr were just reclaiming their ancestral homes and burial grounds; Where they roamed for billions of years before the Ascalonians even turned up on the scene.

The charr eventually freed themselves from the enslavement of the aforementioned malevolent faction and cast them out; They did what they could to make reparations with the Ascalonians, being the first of the two to reach out and try to make peace -- according to the lore.

So, let's recap...

Ascalonians -- Genocidal Maniacs:

Slaughtered most of an indigineous species;

Stole lands from an indigineous species using whatever underhanded tactics they could;

Propagandised their people into believing that the creatures they were slaughtering were naturally evil despite plenty of evidence to the contrary;

Used the retaliation of the charr to further propagandise them and play the victim.

Charr -- Unfortunate Natives:

They were culled almost to the point of extinction;

They had their lands stolen;

They were enslaved by a faction of their own kind;

They rose up against their enslavers and cast them out;

They tried to make peace with the Ascalonians.

Essentially, the charr are a fantasy allegory of some of the troubles Native Americans were faced with when their lands were invaded by European colonists. The charr had more agency, obviously, but there are still a number of rather obvious parallels there.

Now, a sane person would realise that the Ascalonians had a spotty history that they daren't repeat, that the charr were the victims of all that the Ascalonians set in motion. Right? Weeeell...

A sane person would.

However, there were plenty of people who were angry to have their conditioning questioned. They talked about the charr in the same way that Alt-Right people talk about black people; They mocked, derided, and depicted those who played charr as lesser human beings. It even went far enough that some well known charr players received death threats.

And this is fascinating to me.

What is intriguing to me is that where The Elder Scrolls Online makes it clear that the concept of supremacy is the enemy rather than the people who hold those beliefs, and thus that position is adopted by the players? With Guild Wars, those who played as Ascalonians actively hate the charr; There were so many unironic rants about why the charr should all die it frankly made my head spin.

I don't want to say this but it keeps coming up that neurotypicals always appear to be bad at abstracts -- they blame the person rather than the concept. The irony that I am blaming neurotypicals rather than concepts isn't lost on me, yet the truth is is that I can't ignore the science. The patterns of neurotypical behaviour depict overly literal thinking.

It's why it's so easy to convince neurotypicals to hate a 'them.'

I've mentioned before that humanity should see itself as having three enemies:

Supremacy – Where any person believes themselves to be better than another; Enforced Suffering – Where any person is forced to experience torture and anguish against their will; Institutionalised Uselessness – Where the world is designed in such a way that some people are never allowed to offer their worth.

And this should be all of humanity, regardless of one's gender, ethnicity, minority, or any other factor. We should all be united against these three particularly cancerous, surreptitiously creeping evils.

Which finally brings me to my point. The train is now entering a tunnel out of Segue Valley.

Eugenics hasn't gone away -- the target has changed. For whatever reason, neurotypicals love eugenics because they can't separate themselves from the overly literal position of 'us vs. them.' Again, I realise the irony of this. It's painfully obvious, I promise you, but it's akin to Karl Popper's Paradox of Tolerance.

You see, the Paradox of Tolerance says that the nature of tolerance is that we should be tolerant of all people, all ideas, and all concepts; This is the very definition of tolerance. And yet, if we were to enact this, we would then be tolerant of intolerance as well.

In this scenario, intolerance would quickly overwhelm tolerance; As tolerance tolerates intolerance, but intolerance doesn't tolerate tolerance. I know... I know, try to stay with me, here. It makes my head spin too, even though it's completely logical and it makes a good amount of sense.

So you can't be tolerant of intolerance. You specifically have to be intolerant of intolerance for tolerance to survive. Therefore, being intolerant specifically of intolerance is necessary for the survival of tolerance.

I hated having to type that. I'm sorry. I hope you understand.

The same is true of neurotypicals, however; I see that there appears to be a genetic basis that compels a neurotypical mind into 'us vs. them' thinking. I want there to be a study about this as I'm 99 per cent certain I'm correct. I'm not 100 per cent certain as there are no facts, only probabilities backed up by evidence and proof.

Though through my life experiences I'm as sure as I can be; Every neurotypical I've met has this problem. Does this mean that autistic people don't. No, oh dear me, no. We absolutely do. The difference is, though, that we have total awareness of this factor as a problematic element of our own minds. Whereas despite my best efforts, no matter how hard I've genuinely tried, I cannot share this awareness with neurotypicals. I can't. I've tried.

I've tried to explain it in the simplest terms; I've tried to explain it in the most complex terms; I've tried to have an autistic person with better social skills than my own explain it to neurotypicals...

They can't grasp it. I don't know why. Honestly, I'd even go so far as to say that if you're able to grasp this as a problem, to see it within yourself as others as an issue that needs to be dealt with? You're probably not neurotypical.

And that's the thing. I see it in myself. They can't accept that this is a part of their own minds; They believe themselves to be immune to this 'us vs. them' thinking, especially in its more extreme form. They'll then turn around and say something so racist it makes me feel ill.

Eugenics can't go away because of the way neurotypicals are wired. And here's where it gets...

Okay, here's where you might want to stop reading, really. I mean, this terrifies me. It's interesting, yet at the same time it reads like the plot of a dystopian horror novel. It's the world we live in but there is that dissonance there. How can it be so bad? Eugeniscs is here, and the target is now people who aren't neurodiverse.

Cure autism, they say. And cure other forms of neurodiversity which aren't harmful to the person or those around them; In fact, to the contrary, autism seems to create a degree of affective empathy for other people that the neurotypical mind lacks. We know that to be scientifically true, so why would we want to elminate empathy? Isn't empathy a good thing?

Why would you want to remove the people who're aware that 'us vs. them' are a problem, as a concept, rather than seeing a literal 'them' as the problem?

Ask that question.

I ask that question, and I feel scared. I feel scared for autistic children with bad neurotypical parents who blame their kids for their problems rather than recognising their own ineptitude and applying for training on raising an autistic kid, or giving up their kid to a foster home who could raise them better.

I feel scared for vulnerable autistic people who're stuck in institutions like the Judge Rotenberg Centre (which still hasn't been shut down, and I would very much like for you to Google that). I feel scared for autistic people who're bullied by those without autism into wanting their autism cured.

I'm scared of neurotypicals who want to 'cure' us; Because we're not 'us,' are we? We're 'them.' And that's a real problem for neurotypicals, isn't it? We're just a homogeneous mass of 'them' that needs to be cured. A compartmentalised evil.

I think the last, great war will be between people who don't want to be 'cured' and the people who want to 'cure' them, the people who'd have access to CRISPR-cas9 bombs to rewrite their enemies on the fly, who'd be able to holographically edit memories.

And yes, we can do both of those things, now. Hop on over to Google and research them. It's why I'm so scared of neurotypicals.

In the end, the only ones left standing will be those who don't want to be 'cured,' or those who want to 'cure.' I hate that this is the only future available to us, frankly. I can't believe there's another path because neurotypicals won't ever speak up for autistic people, they just see us as 'them' and it's better if all neurodiverse people are 'cured' (killed or reformatted to be exactly like neurotypicals) because that removes the 'them.'

Welcome to the era of nugenics, its clarion call is 'cure autism.'

A little melodramatic, but the point had to be made, yes. Has this helped anyone? Have I finally managed to explain to neurotypicals why 'us vs. them' is the problem, not 'them?' Is this the explanation that finally works? That I don't want to believe this Universality of neurotypicals is why I keep trying, yet I'm scared that this is precisely why we'll 'lose.'

We want to try and see neurotypicals as 'us,' neurotypicals don't extend that kindness our way. Ever. I'd like to be wrong.

Also, I'm going to call it: The Aldmeri Dominion lead writer at Zenimax Online Studios is as neurodiverse AF.

Wrapping this up? Perhaps I'm wrong, there might be another reason for the divide between people who believe the problem is 'them,' and people who believe the problem is 'us vs. them' other than the neurodiverse and neurotypicals. There might be another brain issue responsible for it. From where I sit, though, after all of my life experiences and now dealing with this new torrent of 'cure autism?' I think I'm right.

I don't want to be. I fight the idea of being right about this but neurotypicals seem intent to cram it down my throat.

So, indeed, welcome to the era of nugenics where neurotypicals cry 'cure autism.'

I wish it were different. I want it to be different.

I want it to be different because I don't think anyone has to be evil. I'd rather get to a point where we don't need the icons of those who adopted evil ideologies to remind us of what a monster looks like. And again, it's not the person -- I do fully understand that and I've written paragraphs explaining that, but we have to recognise that adopting an evil ideology invariably results in a monster.

What evil is shouldn't be compartmentalised into 'them.' Evil can be anyone of us, them, or anyone else who adopts a truly sick ideology, one that adopts any of the three sources of pain. I'll recount those here as I can't stress them enough.

Supremacy – Where any person believes themselves to be better than another;

Enforced Suffering – Where any person is forced to experience torture and anguish against their will;

Institutionalised Uselessness – Where the world is designed in such a way that some people are never allowed to offer their worth.

This is what we have to fight. It's not a person, with a face. it's bad ideas. Bad ideas that can make those who have them remarkably evil.

Curing autism trips over all three of those.

Supremacy -- The belief that neurotypicals are the default state, innately superior to neurodiverse people in every way, so curing autism is the correct response;

Enforced Suffering -- Eradicating a person's identity via a 'cure,' which we've seen before with 'treatments' like ECT and ICT, which had no result other than to destroy lives;

Institutionalised Uselessness -- The belief that because a neurodiverse person thinks differently and has impaired social skills, they have nothing to offer to the world, to any venture or business, and thus should be 'cured' for their own good.

Why do you not understand this, no matter how much we try to explain? We're not 'them,' we're 'you.' We're all humans, we're all made of star stuff. Yes, certainly, we're all individuals but if we're all sapient, feeling creatures who mean no harm to any other, shoudln't we be equal?

Don't 'help' autistic people by 'curing' them. Help autistic people by trying to understand how they're different. I know it isn't comfortable, or easy, but that leads to the best end result for all of us. Sadly, I don't see that one being the future of humanity as i don't have that much faith...

Fool that I am, though, I want to hope.

The reality is likely going to eventually be autistic people being rounded up into 'care hospitals' to be 'cured' by force, sure to be eventually remembered as the new holocaust. Not soon enough to stop it from actually happening, though... And I'm terrified of that.

[letarasstuff]

Miss Missing Curfew

(A/N): This was requested by an anon. I hope you like it :)

Summary: How does Hotch react to his daughter missing her curfew?

Warnings: angry Hotch and angry teenager

Wordcount: 1.3k

✨Masterlist✨ ______________________________

(Y/N) always was an outgoing person. From the moment on she was able to speak coherently and walk steadily the whole world became her friend.

Aaron and Haley surely wanted to encourage her to socialize and meet new people, but they still had to set limits and establish rules to live by. A curfew for example. This is something both parents insisted on her following and (Y/N) did without a fail. After all she knew about her father’s job, what kind of people are out on the streets creeping around and that her parents were concerned about her wellbeing all the time.

Especially after her mother’s death the girl was careful to be at home on time. She didn’t want to be another reason Aaron has to worry. This was before she hit high school. In her freshman year (Y/N) goes through a small and short rebellious phase.

It starts with talking back, not much or mean, but Hotch has to tell her to do a certain chore a few times and has to expect to get some kind of backlash. He doesn’t let it slide, of course, just telling her off and usually his daughter stops and does as told.

“Dad, I’ll be out with a few classmates!” (Y/N) calls into the kitchen, where Aaron is finishing cleaning the counters. “Alright, Sweetheart. Be home by nine!” She pops her head into the room and smiles at him. “I will. Love you!”

It’s currently 8:30 and Hotch sits patiently in the living room watching TV. Every few seconds his eyes dart towards his phone, waiting for it to make a sound. Normally the teenager would have sent him a message by now, telling him she is on her way back home. Out of all the reasons and excuses his mind goes through, the agent decides on her forgetting to text him. After all this is nothing he has ever told her to do, (Y/N) does it on her own accord. Or maybe her phone died and she hasn’t had the opportunity to charge it.

But the closer the clock is to nine, his reasoning gets darker. What if she got into an accident with her bike and is in some hospital by now, listed as a Jane Doe. Is it too early to make a few calls to different ERs?

By the time the clock strikes nine, Hotch is totally convinced (Y/N) lays dead in a ditch. After all she is always on time or letting him know she is late because of a good reason. But his phone hasn’t made a noise since six and this was Penelope sending him a cat gif in hopes to make him smile (it’s her secret mission).

His calls go straight to voicemail. By 9:30 Aaron is sure something so bad had happened, that nobody even dares to inform him. Still, he tries to keep it level headed. He gives her time until ten before he takes action.

But as soon as ten comes it also goes by. For a father waiting on his child time flies and slowly goes by simultaneously. Just as he takes the phone at exactly 11:23 to call his colleagues, because (Y/N) is either kidnapped or dead and he needs their help and advice, keys jingle at the door.

The lost thought person looks sheepishly at her father, who stands with crossed arms and the coldest glare in history in the hallway. “Heyyy Dad, how are you doing? Did you know that you only can swallow two to three times before your body stops you doing that? Well, it’s late and I have to go to bed. Goodnight!” But her attempt to slip beside him is short lived after Aaron sticks his arm out and hinders her.

“I ask you this only one time. Why are you late?” His dangerously calm voice makes (Y/N) stand up straighter.

“Uhm, well do you know that Albert Einstein once said time is relative? And he said that three minutes-” “Stop trying to crap you way out of this. I want an answer before deciding on your punishment. Now give me the truth and the truth only.”

His cold eyes make the teenager look away. She knows that she has lost this battle. “I forgot to check the time. But Dad-” Hotch cuts her off: “No buts. We established your curfew for a good reason and this reason was not you breaking it. You are grounded for two weeks and no electronics for one. No discussions.”

Ok, (Y/N) may know that this battle is lost, but this doesn’t stop her from trying. “That’s unfair! It’s the first time I’m late, Dad. Don’t be such a stuck up.” After uttering those words she realizes that she only dug a deeper hole for herself.

“You call this unfair?! Then how do you name the worries and fear I had to endure over the last two and a half hours, wondering where you were? Thinking about which UnSub could have kidnapped you or in which ditch you may lay dead?” It’s uncommon for Aaron to raise his voice against his daughter. It’s just that all of the built up stress breaks out of him at once.

“I don’t know, Dad? I think I’ll call it overreacting? All of the other kids’ parents aren’t that strict about their curfew! I’m a teenager for crying out loud! Let me live a little! Just because you hadn’t ever let loose in your life, you don’t have to control me like that! This is why Mo-” Suddenly everything goes silent. (Y/N) knows not to end this sentence, because it’s not fair to say that.

“Go to your room.” Hotch’s face goes stone cold again. Without wasting a second she rushes out of the hallway.

In this night nobody gets any sleep (except for Jack, who is oblivious to what happened). Both of them feel too guilty to close their eyes. (Y/N) on the one hand knows that she has crossed a line. To be honest she missed her curfew intentionally, just to test the limits. While lying in her bed, she sees that this was immature and stupid.

On the other hand Aaron cools off enough to see that he is the one who is unfair. He loaded something up on his daughter, just because he grew too paranoid due to all the things he sees in his job.

The next morning is filled with an awkward tension. (Y/N) and Hotch try to avoid each other, knowing they went too far last night. For the most part it works, because he has to drop the youngest off at a friend’s house. That gives both of them enough time to collect their bearings and decide to be the bigger person in the following conversation.

This is why (Y/N) waits at the door as she hears her father parking in the driveway. A bit taken aback by her eagerness, he enters the hallway.

“I’m sorry”, they say at the same time. Baffled by this, they look at each other. “I’m sorry for being such a moody teenager and only seeing my own problems and not acknowledging your point of view.” Aaron shakes his head. “No, I have to apologize. You are allowed to be a moody teenager, I’m just not prepared to deal with one. I promise I’ll get better at that and will give you more freedom and ‘let it loose’ more often. But you are still grounded-”

This gets a groan out of her. “You didn’t let me finish! I said you are still grounded with the possibility of reducing your sentence by doing more chores and behaving. Deal?” (Y/N) acts like she has to think about it before smiling and taking the hand her father offers. “Deal!”

Taglist:

All works:

@agentshortstacc

[goblinkingdomsblog]

Take care of me: when Y/N is sick and needs some help - A Song Mingi one shot

Members: Mingi, from Ateez.

Genre: One Shot.

Premise: You and Mingi have been friends for a while now. When you fall ill, he readily offers to help you recover. The only thing he didn't expect, however, was to fall in love with you during the process.

Tw: (S) = Safe for reading, (F) = Fluff.

Hi, guys!! I just wanted to try a fluffy new thing. I hope you enjoy!😉

"You are so crazily stubborn! And please, please, stop looking so cute!"

You were not exactly the most docile type of person, much less the one who accepted help easily. It was only thanks to Mingi's exhausting insistence that you agreed with him coming to visit you. He acted like he was going to die if he couldn't be of assistance to a "sick" friend.

In reality, what you had was just a slightly stronger cold, which in a few days would pass. You'd even warned him about the risks that he might also get the disease, but the boy didn't care. He seemed to be eager to help, or so he said; you suspected he just wanted to enjoy a quiet day off in the middle of the week, but ended up accepting his presence anyway.

Now, you were both snuggled on your living room sofa, watching some boring TV show. Mingi had brought two bags of snacks and a few more things and had put it on the kitchen counter, which you were now staring at with curiosity. Before you could say anything, however, an irritating sneeze made your body shake, forcing you to pull a tissue from the box propped on the arm of the sofa.

As you blew your nose, Mingi turned his head in your direction:

- Everything okay there? - he asked, his voice muffled by the mask you had established as a condition for him to come to your house.

You threw the used tissue in the trash you placed beside the sofa and sanitized your hands with alcohol.

- Apart from the fact that I'm disgusting, with a stuffy nose and my whole body aching, it's okay. - you said, with a subtle tone of sarcasm, which made him laugh.

- I think the part that hurts the most in you right now is your pride. It can't accept the fact that you're sick. - he shook his head, hiding a small smile.

You just rolled your eyes, snorting in response.

More time passed, and suddenly it was dark outside the window. Colder than you should have felt, you pulled the blanket that covered you further up, trying to settle into your corner of the sofa.

- Are you sure you don't want to go to the doctor?

- I am. I've had several colds like this lately. It will pass soon. - grumbling to turn around, you shrugged - It must be because of my damn coworker who doesn't wash his hands. He's always got that snotty nose, walking everywhere.

Mingi couldn't help but laugh. You, grumpy like that, couldn't seem to help being funny. And cute, he had to admit. Your fluffy pajamas, covered in draws of little elephants playing, were something that simply brought out your big, bright (most likely due to the cold) eyes.

He noticed that you were shivering with cold in a few moments. Then he sighed, lifting an arm to tug on yours.

- Hey, what are you doing?! - you exclaimed, irritated.

- You're there freezing to death just out of stubbornness. Let me help you. - he muttered, pulling you to him gently but firmly.

Too sore to fight back, you just accepted your fate, leaning against his arm. Mingi was so warm that you couldn't help hugging him closer, resting your head on his shoulder.

- Don't come too close to my face, I don't want you to get sick too.

- I won't, Y/N. Rest assured. - he replied, and you finally returned to pay attention to the TV.

×××

It was 9 pm when you got a fever. Mingi was supposed to be going home, but he couldn't help but worry about you.

He asked you where the medicines were in the house and served you a heat-killer in the company of hot tea, which he quickly made with the items he brought in his bags. With rosy cheeks and barely open eyes, you just took it without protest, soon crumpling into yourself again. When you finished the tea, you fell back onto the couch, messing up your already tangled hair even more.

Mingi walked to the kitchen, intending to wash your mug and put away the medicines, when he heard your voice rise from the living room:

- Song Mingi.

He hurried to see what it was. After all, you only called him by his last name when the subject was serious. When he approached the sofa, however, you just lifted your arms and, like a snake in full swing, wrapped them around him.

- I want you to stay here with me. It's very cold. - you muttered, so low he wondered if you were awake or asleep.

He should have protested, but you used Mingi's weak point against him: his weakness for cuteness. He felt like he was about to melt, staring into your tired, heart-shaped face, with cheeks flushed. You would probably never ask for a hug from him again in your life, and he just couldn't miss the opportunity to see someone as tough as you behave like a funny kid.

He sat on the couch and, to his surprise, you laid your head on one of his legs, pulling the blanket over both of you. So you lifted one of your arms and felt around in the half light, without opening your eyes, until you found his hand. You pulled it to you and practically used it as a pillow. At that point, Mingi simply fell silent and watched, practically motionless.

Your hand was much smaller than his, and your feverish face against his palm was like the softest and most beautiful of the blankets. He couldn't deny that he felt like squeezing your cheeks until you got better. In fact, he probably couldn't deny anything you asked for right then.

When you opened your eyes slightly, the sudden appearance of your pupils startling him a little, and pulled his other hand to pat your head, his heart missed a beat. So, without saying a single word, you melted him until there was only a warm puddle of Mingi's heart left. He obeyed your silent order and ruffled your hair, which, though messy, was still as soft as ever. The little smile that crept across your face, which you tucked deeper into his hand, was the final attack.

The only reason he didn't scream out of emotion was because he was too focused and too surprised by the discovery he'd just had. He, Song Mingi, had fallen in love with you. And it ocurred long before you got sick, as he'd spent the entire day trying to contain the crooked-tooth little grins that popped up on his face every time you did something funny or approached him a little closer. He already liked you when he vehemently insisted on seeing you. Now he understood the urge that took over him when you said you were not feeling so well.

He liked you the moment he met you, in fact, with your falsely serious eyes that tried to hide a smile that insisted on dominating your lips. You acted cold just on the outside, because your heart was just the purest thing he had ever seen, as beautiful as you.

For an instant, he wished that moment in your living room would never end. Because worse than seeing you sick would be having to confess his feelings to you. If you didn't feel the same, everything would be lost! Maybe he was exaggerating, but he knew it was a risk to your friendship.

But if you did feel the same... he had to quiet down his thoughts in that moment, otherwise, he would wake you up with the agitation he felt.

Kisses from the Goblin Kingdom!!! ;)

[usedtobe-angstyoikawa]

Tanabata

Itadori Yuji x latinx!gn!reader

Summary: you’re from Latin America and end up moving to Japan (cause your whole family is fucking dead hehe sorry). You feel sad and homesick but Itadori tries his best to cheer you up.

Warnings: I’d say none?

a/n: just to clarify, I am from Latin America and I know not everyone here is loud and touchy but I am and this was kind of a self inserted fic cause I feel that if I had to move to Japan it’d be really hard to get used to the people and their culture in general. Like japanesse people are known for being closed off and distant mostly because they’re very respectful and well behaved, whereas in Latin America people are more outgoing and kind of rude to be honest. Idk I think it’s an interesting contrast between these two cultures and Itadori has a bit of both and I love him so yeah enjoy (also I didn’t proofread this I’m very sorry)

———————————————————————

Being a foreigner student in Japan wasn’t easy, specially coming from a place like Latin America with such a different culture. When Gojo sensei found you in the middle of a loosing battle against a curse back in your country, you never would’ve thought he’d save you and take you with him to the other side of the world. You were grateful though, thanks to him you got to meet amazing people that understood what loosing everyone you loved was like. People who gradually became your friends and helped you through your hardest days without expecting anything back. But you still missed your home, the food, the music and the people. Your people. Sometimes those thoughts made you feel guilty, but you couldn’t help but feel left out whenever Noraba made a reference about a tv show they all used to watch when they were kids, or when Megumi flinched and run away anytime you got too exited and accidentally raised your voice. Yuji was a great cook and would often make you try new dishes to cheer you up, but japanese food tasted so different to what you were used to it sometimes wasn’t comforting enough. You weren’t having a bad time but you definitely weren’t the happiest you’d ever been. You craved touch and warmth, you wanted to go dancing without being self conscious and stay up till sunrise.

The closest person to you was Yuji. You met him a few months after your arrival in Japan, apparently he’d been out on a ‘secret mission’ or at least that’s what Gojo had told you. The pink haired boy greeted you with a big smile and a lot of questions, you were surprised by his outgoing and warm personality at first but you immediately became good friends. You loved being around Yuji, he’d always let you hug him and didn’t seem to be affected by your voice volume. He reminded you of an old friend back home so it wasn’t hard to open up to him and tell him about your mixed feelings towards the cultural crash.

“I can’t say I get it ‘cause I totally don’t, I wasn’t forced to leave my country and leave behind everything I’ve known my whole life to try and start a new life on the other side of the world” he said while grabbing his chin and looking at the ceiling “ and I don’t think there’s a way to make you feel completely at home, I mean I can try recreating your country’s traditional dishes but I don’t wanna ruin that for you”

You’d tried that before but you could never find the right ingredients and there was always something missing, leaving you with and empty space in your chest. It seemed like every time you tried to do things to keep holding on to your culture the more distant you felt, as if the life you knew was forever lost.

“That’s it! We can go to the festival!” the boy next to you jumped and you stared at him wondering what the hell he was talking about. “Noraba didn’t tell you about it?” You shook your head no “This weekend starts the Tanabata festival, it was a chinese tradition at first but we’ve been celebrating it for a while. There’s gonna be a lot of food, cute decorations around the city and… oh!” Suddenly he was in front of you grabbing you by your shoulders “ WE HAVE TO MAKE A WISH”

And that’s how you ended up borrowing one of Nobara’s yukata and headed to the festival, Yuji right next to you. As soon as he saw you wearing the traditional clothes his face lit up and he grabbed your hand, dragging you to what he described as the best place in earth. Some of the second year students decided to tag along but you lost them in the crowd.

Yuji was right, it was fun. He showed you around and bought you different types of food, you played games and he told you about the japanese traditions. You slowly realized that maybe you’d judged his people wrong. Seeing kids running around, couples holding each other, and the dumb idiot’s bright smile made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Yes it was a different country, and yes the people there could be distant and a bit close minded, but they were also very nice and respectful, full of wisdom and spirituality.

Apparently it was this festival’s tradition to write down a wish on a colorful paper strip (tanzaku) and tie it onto a bamboo branch. The color you chose held a meaning and directed your wish towards it’s destination. You chose red, representing gratuity towards your parents and ancestors. Yuji chose yellow but he didn’t tell you what the color represented.

“You know there’s a Japanese legend my grandpa used to tell me every time during this festival” He said while you two walked down a path and heading to a bridge “Aparently there used to be two lovers, a cowherd and a weaver girl, that lived by a riverbank in China a long long long time ago. Before knowing each other they dedicated their time to their respective jobs, but once they got married they’d spend so much time together that they completely forgot about them. The girls father got so mad that he split the two lovers apart and exiled the boy to the other side of the river.” He stoped walking and you realized you’d reached the bridge and the two of you were now standing in the middle of it. “The girl cried and begged his father to let them see each other one more time and he agreed, allowing the lovers to meet every 7th of July. But when the date came they realized there was no way of crossing the river, ‘cause you know there was no bridge and they apparently didn’t know how to swim or maybe the tide was too strong and it would’ve been dangerous to…” he started rambling on about the possible ways the couple could’ve seen each other and you couldn’t help but let out a loud laugh, making the boy blush. “Anyways, a bunch of birds I don’t remember what type exactly but they helped the girl cross the river and she was able to meet his lover. Now we throw our bamboo branches to the river so they reach the sea and the gods can find them and read our wishes, hopefully they’ll make them come true.”

“It’s a beautiful story” he nodded and kept looking down at the river. Together you threw your branches and watched them get carried away downstream by the current.

“My wish was yellow, it represents friendship. I usually choose the red paper like you did, I like to make wishes for my parents and my grandpa.” You listened intently, he rarely spoke about his parents. “This time I decided to be a bit selfish and wished for our friendship to last forever and for you to feel at home.” He turned to you and dug holes in your sole with his brown eyes.

You stood there silent, not knowing what to say or how to react. Your heart was beating fast and your eyes were getting wet, but there was this indescribable feeling beginning to settle in inside of your chest. Itadori moved closer to you and cupped your cheek with his cold hand, hot breath fanning over your face.

“I promise I’ll try my best to make you feel at home”

[agirldying]

hey, reading over what you reposted from complexptsd made a lot of sense to my trauma. 

I hit every point. especially with the one abuser I talked about last time I feel my cptsd mainly revolves around if that makes sense. I just get a lot of triggers specific to her. I definitely have a lot of dissociation when her name is brought up or I see her, nightmares, flashbacks, fear of my city and wanting to avoid the whole thing altogether, but also the vengeful fantasies and being attracted sexually, platonically, etc to people just like her. I tend to subconsciously and consciously find people like her.

do you think the one time I escaped from her for about 6 months (until I went back and unfortunately couldn't escape for a few more years) I managed to get away and stay away, that the trauma symptoms were acting up back then due to being away from her for so long? then when I went back things were almost abnormally triggering and scarier for me. she amped up her abuse on top of that though...which happens in Dv cases all the time.

do you think its fawning if I were to deny the reality of my opinions and feelings and mimic hers all the time since we were little kids I did that I didn't realize I lied about my own beliefs or wants until after I left her for good...

im happy that I talked to a friend (childhood friend I recently got back In touch with- and a few others) and their family has a business and they all said I could work with them its just on the job training so luck is on my side!!!! im so excited and happy and I missed all my friends from elementary school im so glad theyre all great people like they always were to me so good to see them doing so well.

🕷️

Hi 🕷️,

Yes I think it makes total sense to not only have your abuser be a whole separate trigger, but also this whole concept of like, not idolization but I don't know how exactly to describe it. Just that they have this transcendent significance, if that makes any more sense.

From my understanding, once you subconsciously and physically register that you're in a safe environment, it's common and natural for you to begin unpacking your trauma or remembering things you didn't previously. Typically repression is in place so long as the person feels unsafe to recall and process what happened. Once that person is in a safe place, repression typically melts away. This is a survival mechanism. Similarly, it's possible to re-repress if you are put back into a threatening situation.

I think what you described makes sense as fawning. It reminds me of something we talked about in my Literary Criticism class recently about the concept of the panopticon, which was essentially that, when you're under an unusual and invasive amount of surveillance, your sense of identity shifts to cohere with whatever the viewer is watching you for. In other words, if you're constantly being watched, you either act more recklessly (like in reality TV) or you do exactly what the person behind the camera wants you to do, to avoid punishment. But what happens when you "behave" exactly how you're expected to, your sense of self starts to blend with the person keeping you in line, as their wants become yours (you want to behave to avoid punishment, they want you to follow these certain behaviors or else). It's a cruel method of control, at least when looking specifically at the dystopian panopticon (surveillance in general is a double-edged sword, I could go on).

On a brighter note I'm glad to hear you were able to reconnect with an old friend and that you might be able to work with them! That's great news and you seem proud of yourself for that! Hope you can continue to keep in touch with them.

Hope I could help! Let me know if you need anything or if you have any comments.

[babylooneytoonz]

Summary: Your first meeting with Sergeant Barnes wasn't exactly charming, hell, it was a disaster. And the only adjectives that came to your mind when you thought about him were words like prick, bastard and a jackass. He made your life hell, and you lived to make sure you made him suffer. And neither of you realized, how your sole mission of tormenting each other became the most important part of your life.

Warnings: Bucky Barnes continues to be an ass // Reader has finally has it // War declared

Coffee Stains - Masterlist

Coffee Stains

Your anger still lingered inside of you like a deep rooted worm, even after you had stepped into the warm soothing shower, after your encounter with whoever the fuck that man was. You were still annoyed, and you were sure as hell worried that your mood might end up affecting your performance at the training today. You stood in your room, the pads of your feet nestled onto the feathery carpet that adorned the floor of your apartment, semi dressed when you heard Friday.

"Miss Y/N, Captain is here, waiting for you."

You frowned, wondering if it was already 7 and somehow, you had lost the track of time, but you noted that it was still 6: 40 pm by the clock.

"Thank you, Friday," that was the fastest you had ever gotten into your yoga pants, pulling it over your round bum, the elastic strap stinging against your soft fleshy belly as it hit it with a slap. The towel still rolled over your hair, you ran up to the door and flung it open, only to see Steve standing there with two people you didn't know of and who were probably newbies like you.

"Y/N, how are you holding up?" Steve asked in soft voice, and somehow you found your previous anger slowly melting away.

"Great, Steve. I thought I'm late on my first day," your lips now crept upwards in a grin, and Steve just shook his head, his hand flying to the back of his head as he ran his fingers through his blond locks.

"I thought I'd introduce you to the two of them, they were the only ones I could find lurking in the recreation room, so I dragged them here."

"No, you did not, I was the one that insisted I wanted to meet the newbie," the dark haired girl just winked playfully in your direction, and you couldn't help but snort at her words when you saw Steve's face turn crimson like a cherry.

"I'm Wanda, well, people around here might call me stuff like the Sokovian witch and all that, but when they're saying that, consider it is me they're talking about." The woman threw out her hand towards you, her hand extended in a shake, and you took her hand, feeling a comfortable warmth radiating from her. Wanda then turned towards the one to her right, and smiled, "Well this one doesn't talk much, but you'll like him."

"Hello Miss Y/N, my name is Vision, and I have taken it upon myself to welcome you to our team."

"Thank you Vision, it's my pleasure." You shook his hand; the little meet and greet causing you to temporarily forget about the man; the stranger you had met in the kitchen a few minutes back.

Steve's thick voice reaching your ears caused you to turn towards him, and you saw him looking at the trio of you with a small smile playing on his lips.

"Well, I'll leave you guys to it– " He took a step away, his front turned towards you, but his steps moving backwards until he was now a good distance away, " Y/N, I will expect you to be at the training room in ten minutes." With that, his heavy footsteps retreated away, until you couldn't hear him anymore, and you were left standing with Wanda and Vision, on your doorstep.

"Around here, punctuality is the key. And in general," Vision began.

╞═════𖠁𐂃𖠁═════╡

Vision and Wanda lingered around in your apartment for the next ten minutes along with you, talking to you about the life at the Avengers Towers and how you got used to it once you had started adjusting.

"After a while, it feels like you are living with your roommates, except the fact that they all are superheroes," Wanda chuckled, as she watched you place your glasses away and pull out your contact lenses and fix them into your eyes.

Exactly nine minutes later, you left your apartment, and slowly started making you way towards the training room with your newly found friends, who you realized just couldn't stop bantering and talking amongst themselves; and it was cute, not in a way you felt left out. The three of you made your way to the fourth floor, and towards the training room when Wanda and Vision finally parted ways with you as it was time for their own training as well, leaving you alone.

It wasn't long before you reached the training room, but before you could step in, you heard muffled voices from the inside, until you strained your ears a little and an automatically induced frown found its way to your forehead.

"What's gotten you so grumpy today, Buck?"

Steve.

The other voice that replied wasn't one of the voices you really wished to hear again.

"What's with Stark hiring all the weirdos found in NYC? I can't believe my best tshirt got ruined."

"Come on Buck, it was a tshirt. And besides, I'm sure it was an accident."

"Who the hell cares what it was, if I was Stark, I would have fired her lousy ass right away."

"Buck, language."

You couldn't believe this piece of shit was still stuck over what had happened that afternoon. You couldn't say you had forgotten about it, but atleast you were acting all grown up and weren't bitching about it to anyone. And here he was, bitching around with none other than your mentor. This day was getting worse and worse, and you internally begged to call it a day and disappear into your apartment so you could peacefully spend your night curled in that soft, mushy pillows and the silken sheets.

You cleared your throat, intentionally, so you could announce your presence and as if on cue, Bucky's head snapped in your direction and his scowl widened, making him narrow his eyes at you.

"You again? The hell you following me around for? If you're here to apologize– "

Steve's eyes widened when he sensed the tension slowly rising in the room and it wasn't like he was daft. Having put the two and two together, he understood now that the person responsible for putting Bucky in this foul mood had been you, well not intentionally.

"Buck, easy. She is our newest recruit. Thank you for being on time, Agent."

Bucky took a double take, his eyes raking over you, in a very obvious way; and not in a sexual kind of a way but in a way to believe that he was truly shocked. This annoyed you even more and your fingers clenched against your sides.

"You got to be kidding me, punk. She can't even walk straight while holding a darn mug of coffee."

That's it, you had it with him taking continuous digs at you.

"You know, you deserved it. And now I wish it wasn't just coffee but something way worse. Probably horse piss," you literally spat and if it wasn't for Steve who had now fixed himself in front of you, blocking the two of you from slamming anything you could lay your hands on, into each other's faces, things would have gotten messy in the training room within seconds.

"Bucky–" he warned, his palm outstretched towards him, glaring at him, "we have to train now."

He then turned towards you, his expression reflecting a bit of disappointment in his orbs, "Y/N, I expect atleast one of you to be sensible, and if not, then cordial, he is a senior in here."

It suddenly clicked in the back of your head. You had watched the coverage of the Battle of Triskelion on TV. So, this was him, that ass, Winter Soldier. Of course, this man had issues, like really serious ones. But that didn't excuse the way he was behaving with you. But also, you knew that Steve was right. There was no point in engaging with him, so you decided to just be cordial, if it meant not having to deal with his shit anymore.

"Fine." You grumbled, almost under your breath.

Running your hand through your short shoulder length (Y/H/C) hair, you finally walked up to where Steve was standing, already in the Captain America mode now.

"Today, we'll test your hand to hand combat skills," you heard him say and you nodded your head, zoning out all the unwanted presences in the training room, although you could feel Bucky's piercing gaze on you. You knew he wanted to watch you fail, and falter but you weren't going to give him a chance.

╞═════𖠁𐂃𖠁═════╡

Sweat drenched down your face, dripping off your neck, as you shifted the weight of your body and threw out your fisted palm towards your mentor, with a sudden looping overhand, but Steve managed to block your punch, his own aim now towards your nose. Your reflexes had kicked in, causing you to duck at the right time and block his punch, at the same time managing to knock him off his feet with your foot thrown out.

Captain America was hard to beat, but so were you.

The distance had once again taken its place in front of the two of you, and the two of you were ready for another round, and you were glancing at your opponent, analyzing what he was thinking, what his next moves were. He was subdued, the weight of his body shifted to his left, his eyes narrowed at you, probably ready to attack, but you couldn't be sure; maybe he wanted you to attack first, and then he would counter you.

Suddenly, he lunged at you, his fists aimed in an attack and you had been wrong there, to study his body language, and even worse, when you let yourself get distracted when you heard a low, meenacing and annoying voice reach out to you, "Agent.. are you sure you can see Steve, because you don't seem to have your glasses on. Not that you know where to go even with them on."

Your eyes flew to him in disbelief and your mouth curved into a perfect O, making you lose your fighting stance, and your guard. Steve was already fast, and when he heard Bucky's taunt, he tried to shoot him a sharp glare for distracting you, but he couldn't stop himself, he was so in momentum, his heavy palm cracked against your abs, throwing you away, down on the mat with a force you didn't think was possible.

Steve threw his hands in the air, as he rushed over to you, kneeling down beside you, to check if you were alright, but you gave him a tight lipped smile and nodded, sitting upright, shooting Bucky a glare.

"I didn't know they taught you these cheap tactics of distracting people back at the army, Sergeant."

Bucky smiled, leaning forward slightly, so his elbows were resting against his knees, his lips stretched into what looked like an evil smirk.

"Weak people always find excuses, one way or the other. You let yourself get distracted."

He stood up, with slow steps, walking over towards you. By that time, you had lifted yourself off the mat, and your hands had flown to your hips, your neck held upright. Bucky stepped onto the mat, moving in front of Steve, who had opened his mouth in protest, but hadn't yet said anything, until Bucky was in your face, giving you a stare down.

"This is the real deal. I don't know where you came from or what you did. But this is the real deal. There will be real enemies, and they will do everything on their part to distract you. There is no room for weakness here."

Suddenly, a feeling of dread washed over you, it wasn't exactly dread, but it was something else all together, like a sudden burst of adrenaline , perhaps provoked by his words, but also because of his close proximity. You hadn't realized till that moment, and perhaps, neither had he, but he was so close, you could feel his hot breath on your face which caused your eyes to involuntarily fall over his lips for a second, and then back up, until you caught him smirking down at you, probably basking in his little mountain of victory.

You only thanked Steve inwardly, when he suddenly stepped in, breaking whatever this moment was, when he grabbed Bucky's palm and pulled him away from you, his eyes now on him, a look passing between the two of them that you couldn't decipher. Maybe it was a best friend thing between them, something only the two of them knew of.

"Buck, that's enough, she was good, and you know she was."

"I agree."

When a foreign voice sounded in the room, the three heads involuntarily snapped in that direction, only to find Sam Wilson leaning against the door, a half eaten apple in his hand, and his mouth moving as he was chewing on it.

"What?" He shrugged, his voice sounding unclear as his mouth was completely stuffed, "that was the Captain that she just fought. And I am impressed."

Your expressions softened, and a smile broke out on your lips and you nodded towards Sam, who nodded back with his eyes twinkling at you.

Bucky shrugged and finally, he let his shoulders relax, and shot you a quick look, "I don't think so. I think you just went soft on her."

You scoffed in disbelief, biting your lower lip to bite back from barking back at him and moved away from the mat to grab a chilled bottle of water that lay on a table. Your fingers worked on the bottle and at the same time, your eyes remained on Bucky, and Sam who had now joined the two of the super soldiers. You could see that Steve was trying to knock some sense into Bucky, tell him how he was just overdoing it, but Bucky just deadpanned, his glare fixed on you until he again took a dig at you, and this time you couldn't take it.

"Did it hurt? That blow to your –" He pointed his index finger towards his abs, that cocky smirk still draped over his lips,   "Now maybe that's payback, for almost burning me a few hours back."

His words caused you to almost tighten your grip on the bottle, the grip so hard, the plastic of the bottle almost shrank. You took a deep breath, taking one step towards him, slowly, before your pace rose, and you were striding towards him, your eyes brewing with anger. The bottle was still in your hand, the cap laying abandoned on the table, so when you were sure you were at a close proximity from him, you tipped the bottle, letting the cold water drain through his tshirt, right on his abs, drenching him completely.

"There you go, I think it won't burn now, I feel I should have done that hours back, atleast you wouldn't be crying about it till now."

Steve closed his eyes, his palm flying to his face as he swiped his hand over his face. He knew that things were going to get murky now, and things had gotten out of hand, which is why his grip on Bucky's arm tightened. Bucky was seething, partly in rage, and partly due to a sudden flush of what he could only name as embarrassment, while Sam was openly smirking at what he had just witnessed.

A woman had managed to shut the Winter Soldier up, and how, with cold water right on his burns.

Today was a good day.

(Feedback is appreciated. 💗)

Permanent Bucky Barnes Taglist :

@thepeakygurl

@all-art-is-quite-useless

@baumarvel

@really-dont-forget-it

Want to be added to any of my taglists? Please fill out the form on this link. 💗

[the-final-sif]

"i trust you" under the lying quirk oh no that killed me. Imagine the bakugous in the katsuki hakamata au but without anybody realizing whats going on so baby doesnt get adopted (canon?), and Bakugou not trusting adults ohhhh dear

God, Katsuki getting hit by a lying quirk would be super interesting.

I think it’d have to be that he bumped into someone, maybe someone in gen ed or a kid or something. They don’t realize their quirk activated because Katsuki yelled at them afterwards and they thought he was fine.

The rules for the quirk are a bit more complex than just forcing someone to say stuff that’s untrue, it forces a person to try to deceive other people.

As such:

Any form of communication is affected, although to varying degrees.

The quirk compels the affected person to deceive other people on any given matter. This can mean telling lies directly, but it also means the person will dodge questions/refuse to answer if simply lying would reveal the truth.

Speech/typing/writing is all forced to be lies in some form or another.

Body language/facial expressions are somewhat effected, although less so.

The quirk lasts for 24 hours or so.

Katsuki gets to class, and he feels fine right up until a teacher asks him a question. He opens his mouth to tell them the answer, but instead finds himself saying he doesn’t know. He’s extremely confused as this pattern repeats. When Mina asks if he’s okay after their first class, he tries to tell her something’s wrong, only to find himself saying that everything’s fine and to mind her own business.

This keeps up until lunch, by which point, Izuku has solidly picked up that something is wrong with Katsuki. He approaches Katsuki about it towards the end of lunch, only to have Katsuki look him in the eye and say, “Everything’s fucking fine with me, Midoriya.”

Good news; This clearly communicates to Izuku that something is wrong.

Bad news; Izuku has anxiety, and Katsuki has never called him by his last name, so he assumes that he did something horribly wrong and offended Katsuki without meaning to. He tries to apologize and ask what he did, but it’s ineffective and Izuku retreats to try and figure it out.

This means that Kirishima approaches Katsuki, also trying to figure out what’s wrong with him. He asks Katsuki what’s bothering him, and Katsuki tells him that He’s bothering him. Because of the lying quirk, Katsuki sounds so serious that Kirishima is now convinced it’s something that both he and Izuku did, so he also leaves Katsuki alone for fear of angering him further.

Lunch ends with the whole class on edge and trying to figure out what Kirishima and Izuku did. One of the students, probably Iida, informs Midnight whose their next teacher that something seems to be wrong with Katsuki. He indicates that it’s some sort of serious friendship fight/emotional issue. Midnight pulls Katsuki out of class ahead of time to speak to him, telling him that he can talk to her if something’s up.

Katsuki looks at her, and all he can see are images in his mind of being chained up at the sports festival. A muzzle in his mouth, chains on his arms, fucking thousands of people watching, and her part in putting him there. It’s been awhile, but that’s the sorta shit that’s hard to overcome. Particularly after it got broadcast on national TV, and villains decided they liked what they saw.

So, with all of that in mind, his mouth opens and he speaks in a reluctant but oddly soft voice.

“I fucking trust you, and I’ll tell you if there’s shit I want to talk about, but there’s nothing on my mind right now.”

And Midnight buys it. Later, in the staff room, she’ll brag to the other teachers about it. That she was the first one Katsuki said he trusted. It strikes Aizawa as odd, but he doesn’t speak up for fear of being called jealous. Maybe he is, a bit.

In the meantime, a grouchy Katsuki returns to class to suffer through the rest of the day, telling lie after lie of “I’m fine.”. He says a few odd things, like telling Denki that he ‘well and truly thinks he’s a complete moron without even a flicker of light on in that head of his’, mentioning in response to someone that he’s never gotten a nightmare in his life, and pissily telling Uraraka that she’s a total coward who he doesn’t even have an ounce of respect for. Everyone assumes he’s just in an awful mood though, and takes to avoiding him.

At the end of training for the day, Katsuki took a few hits which he blows off any concerns about and stomps his way back to the dorms. Tired, frustrated, and hoping he can just sleep off the quirk. His plan is to hide in his room until it’s over.

Only, Kirishima just can’t let sleeping dogs lie. He knocks on the door until Katsuki opens up, only to be greeted by his friend’s tear stained face.

Kirishima gives a watery, heart felt apology, asking Katsuki to please tell him what he did, because Kirishima has been desperately trying to figure it out but he can’t come up with anything. He promises he didn’t mean to hurt Katsuki, but he knows the other is clearly genuinely upset about it, so for their sake of their friendship, won’t Katsuki please tell him what he did wrong?

And in that moment, all Katsuki can think about is how much he cares about Kirishima. How much he doesn’t deserve a friend this kind and good. His mouth takes hold of that thought, eyes narrowing in anger that isn’t his own, and they start shaping out, horrible, horrible words.

“I hate y-”

Katsuki is cut off by himself slamming the door shut, having wrestled back a tiny bit of control from the quirk to prevent himself from saying something he can’t ever take back. He locks the door and steels himself against Kirishima’s crying, because even though every part of him wants to go comfort his friend, he knows he can’t.

It’s silent for a long, long time after that.

Given that that was such a shitshow, Katsuki’s expecting to be left alone for the evening. He doesn’t think there’s anyone else in the dorms stupid enough to come try to talk to him after Kirishima was sent sobbing.

Surprise though, there is!

Shouto had heard about what happened with Kirishima, after he spent most of the evening trying to console a panicked and heartbroken Izuku. Comforting people is hard for him, and he feels like he’s doing a shit job of it. So instead, he decided to try to solve the mystery of what’s going on. He’s not sure what Katsuki’s deal is, but he’s going to get to the bottom of it, even if he has to break down Katsuki’s door to do it.

To rephrase that a little;

Shouto breaks down Katsuki’s door after he refuses to answer, to try to get to the bottom of what’s going on.

After a bit of angry yelling, Shouto demands to know what Kirishima and Izuku did to upset Katsuki so much. Katsuki wants desperately to say that they didn’t do anything, but again the quirk forces him to lie.

“They know what they fucking did!”

Shouto, whose stubbornness can match Katsuki’s on a good day, shoots back that the two of them don’t know what they did, and that Katsuki needs to explain what’s causing him to behave so weirdly. Again though,

“Those assholes know what they did, and I’m not fucking behaving weirdly!”

And then a thought strikes Katsuki, and out of desperation, he tries something.

“Those assholes know what they did, and I’m not fucking behaving weirdly!”

One more time, red eyes fixed on Shouto now, pleading.

“Those assholes know what they did, and I’m not fucking behaving weirdly!”

He can’t repeat the phrase again, the quirk has caught onto his trick, so now he’s left wondering if Shouto got the message.

Here’s the thing. Shouto can be dense at times. He really can be. But he’s also willing to leap to ridiculous conclusions based on limited evidence, and sometimes, just sometimes, that’s exactly what a situation calls for. Maybe it’s Katsuki saying it three times, or maybe it’s the desperate look in his eyes, but Shouto gets the hint.

“Katsuki, what color is your hair?”

It’s a weird fucking question, but Katsuki is relieved knowing that Shouto’s got it now. He finds himself dodging the question, getting hostile, but Shouto stays patient and firm, demanding an answer and asking other, simple, straight forward questions that Katsuki is unable to answer. After a handful of those, he’s convinced Katsuki is unable to say the truth, and he connects the dots that Katsuki’s been hit by a quirk.

Obviously, he takes this information to Aizawa, who in turn checks the school’s cameras from that morning. There they find the student that Katsuki ran into, and get an explanation on the rules of the quirk. It’s only 24 hours, which is almost up, so really all that’s left to do is for Shouto to go tell the others what’s been going on.

Oh, and Aizawa has to check on Katsuki, because unfortunately he distinctly recalls the kid saying he was fine after training that day when Aizawa asked if he’d taken any hits.

Aziawa has to ask a number of questions to suss out if Katsuki is actually okay. Not to mention trying to get permission to check and wrap Katsuki’s (thankfully minor) injuries from training. It’s uncomfortable as hell for him, but some of Katsuki’s answers give him pause.

“Fuck off, I don’t trust you.“ 

“I don’t want you here. Leave." 

“You’re the last person I want to see right now.”

And sure, it’s not quite the same as hearing Katsuki say that he trusted him or that he wanted Aizawa there, and Aizawa’s not going to take anything said under the quirk at face value, but it still warms his heart a bit. Because he knows what the kid is really saying.

In the afterwards, once the quirk is gone, Katsuki is tackle hugged by Kirishima who he assures he is not mad at. Izuku is still crying, but he’s always crying, and it’s a better sort of crying this time as he joins in on the hug that Katsuki reluctantly allows. There’s some teasing, but mostly the class doesn’t take what happened to heart.

Midnight pulls Katsuki aside again to talk, and after this whole mess, he’s just very tired. After he confirms he said what he said the day prior under the influence of the quirk, she’s hurt, asking if that’s really how he feels. If he really doesn’t trust his own teacher. And Katsuki knows this is when he’s supposed to comfort her, but he’s too fucking done for that shit.

Instead, he gives her an exhausted look and asks her what she expected after the sports festival. It catches her off guard, but he doesn’t relent, saying that he said what he said. The quirks worn off now, so If she wants someone to lie to her to make her feel better about what happened, then she’ll need to find someone else, because Katsuki doesn’t do lying. Then he leaves, because he’s got other shit to do.

And after that Fun Talk, and after this entire experience, Katsuki is emotionally raw, but he still has to talk with Aizawa. It’s a thankfully quick conversation, but afterwards he mumbles out a thanks to his teacher. Then even more hesitantly, he double checks that Aizawa knew Katsuki was lying when he said those things last night.

Aizawa says of course, he understands it was the quirks effects and he’s not holding it against Katsuki. Katsuki replies that that’s good, and then quietly and quickly, he makes eye contact with and says he does trust him, and there’s nobody else he would’ve rather handle that situation. Katsuki being Katsuki, he barely gets the words out before he’s off in a huff with his face red, leaving his teacher in shock behind him.

Somehow, despite all the chaos caused, Aizawa still finds himself secretly glad for that stupid quirk.

[sleepymccoy]

sleepy’s fic masterlist

Doing this cos I wanted to! And I can’t find the short things I’ve written on tumblr half the time, so i wanted a place to go to find them. I’ll edit this whenever I post something new and give it a quick reblog when I do <3

Tumblr shorts

Inventions and Ice-cream

A chererful conversation between Crowley and Aziraphale about their favourite invention humans have come up with. Also read for hand holding, ice-cream, and macking out against the Bentley door. Goes hard on the hand holding stuff

1600-ish words

What kind of lover are you?

Filled a prompt, wing grooming by South Downs. It turned into something very soft, very loving, with some acknowledgement of the aftereffects of trauma and constant threat and the anxiety that would be on you from that. Also, some nice massaging and snark from the main two. I feel like I’m getting a hug when I read this, thb

1200-ish words

Chamomille

Aziraphale notices Crowley getting tired and swings into action with a prepared bedtime routine. Crowley is not consulted. Very short and sweet

350-ish words

Monsieur and Difficult Topics

Crowley and Aziraphale are having a meal together after the apocalypse. Crowley says they're not friends and a very challenging conversation follows as Aziraphale tries to correct this. This is a pre romance thing, so they finish having had a worthwhile conversation, not leaping into dating

2000-ish words

Burnt Coffee and Crosswords

Crowley stumbles out of bed and finds that Aziraphale has, yet again, snuck into his flat while he was asleep. Fluff and fondness ensue

1000-ish words

Absolutely Adorably Nauseating

Outsider POV of Aziraphale and Crowley having very dramatic public fights. Three different stories. Mainly meant to be funny, but has some nice fluff in it

2000-ish words

How can someone as clever as you be so handsome?

Aziraphale remembers Crowley calling him clever in an angry moment and fondly teases him for it. Very fluffy.

1000-ish words

Gifts

Through the years Crowley has been giving Aziraphale gifts that are, overwhelmingly, in poor taste. Fluffy and silly, has pictures

2000-ish words

An Unpleasant Suprise

A butteromens effort. The similar fics were Aziraphale saving Crowley from Gabriel, I wanted to do a twist that had Crowley more engaged in the fight. Turns into an awful lot of flirting and the like at the end, it’s a fun read. Quick warning for a brief decrip of gore from being burnt, but I move on pretty fast

3500-ish words

A New Eden

Filled a prompt; “I’m going to need you to put some underwear on before you say anything else.” It’s not sexy, but by the virtue of the prompt there is dick. Mostly speechless Crowley, though.

1200-ish words

Entirely Unapologetic

Filled a prompt; “so why did I have to punch that guy?” Features protective Crowley and blustering Aziraphale

500-ish words

Be Unashamed With Me

Crowley’s waiting for Aziraphale to leave a church and as he waits he gets a bit sad about his demon-hood and remembers how hopeless he was before he and Aziraphale got together. When Aziraphale joins him a lot of fluff and compliments follow to cheer Crowley up. Which works. Gets a bit flirty.

1500-ish words

Climb Every Mountain

In the biblical narrative, God tells Abraham to sacrifice his son, Isaac, on Moriah. Abraham begins to comply, when a messenger from God interrupts him. Abraham then sees a ram and sacrifices it instead. In the me narrative, Crowley does a favour for Aziraphale then swiftly changes his mind and doesn’t let the kid be killed.

1200-ish words

How Many Ways Can I Say...

A very short form fic, more a casual tumblr post, but it has some cute descriptions of different ways Aziraphale can sat I love you to Crowley

500-ish words

AO3 links

If You Like

link to tumblr promo post

link to some relevant art

a take on the few days between apocalypse and the body switch, cos Aziraphale goes from surprised at Crowley offering to let him crash at his apartment, to swapping bodies and letting Crowley risk himself. So it’s following Aziraphale’s trauma and consideration. Lots of bed sharing and a very fluffy body-positivity ending with Aziraphale’s golden stretch marks.

10,000-ish words

Nothing’s Changed

link to tumblr promo post

A week into July and Crowley has finished sleeping in. He gives Aziraphale a ring and receives a very frosty reception. Although Aziraphale insists nothing has changed, Crowley suspects otherwise. Fic includes Aziraphale pinching Crowley to prove he’s not dreaming

2000-ish words

Slipped My Mind

link to tumblr promo post

Crowley and Aziraphale are so used to not being in a relationship that its quite easy to slip into old habits and forget that they’re allowed to touch now. A bit of angst, but mostly fluffy as they get used to this new normal.

6000-ish words

Requisite Lockdown Fic

link to tumblr promo post

This was actually a tumblr short fic I wrote, but it got crazy out of hand and the format is much easier on ao3 so I’m linking it here. Told entirely through phone calls in the same format as the lockdown youtube special. Crowley is setting boundaries for the first time and Aziraphale is struggling to adjust to these new rules. But it goes well

4000-ish words

To Seduce, Beguile, and Entice

link to tumblr promo post

Crowley isn’t any good at seduction temptations. This comes up one night and Aziraphale is concerned because he’s seduced in Crowley’s name before. All part of the Arrangement. So, of course, the only solution is for Aziraphale to teach Crowley how to seduce. It gets out of hand quickly. The last chapter is post apocalypse and Crowley tries his hand at seducing Aziraphale in a very intentionally referential way, as a kind of method to express that he’s actually interested in a relationship.

10,000-ish words

Still Waking Up

link to some relevant art

link to tumblr promo post

Follows the pair for about two years after the apocalypse as Crowley is behaving oddly and Aziraphale is figuring everything out. This is your trauma recovery fic! Crowley has nightmares and a fear of fire and some abandonment. Aziraphale is lonely and feels deeply incompetent and lost, as well as having not fully resolved some of his issues with Heaven. They learn how to be on their own side together rather than keeping it all separate and protective. Also, bed sharing.

30,000-ish words

Not Quite Human

link to tumblr promo post

Omnipotent POV (but not god) that sorta swaps between them. It’s just a simple 18 hours or so in the shop on afternoon as they’ve begun to get more physically affectionate. This is a decent mutual pining fic. I tried to lean into the real not-human stuff they’ve both got going on. It’s your classic admission of love fic with plenty of panicking Crowley. Features some smut with a sex-positive, asexual Aziraphale and a sex-neutral, demisexual Crowley.

10,000-ish words

the kind of thing one says easily

link to tumblr promo post

This is my silly take on an au. Everything is exactly the same but they actually communicate honestly occasionally. Wild, I know. We follow Crowley and Aziraphale through moments of time in their history (some canon friendly, like follow ons from scenes in the tv show, some made up) as Crowley quite simply tells Aziraphale that he loves him. And Aziraphale gets used to it and learns to be honest in return. Things really come to a head as the apocalypse approaches. The last chapter is a sex scene, but it’s very very loving rather than smutty.

15,000-ish words

Soft.

link to tumblr promo post

This is a very fluffy fic. Crowley tells Aziraphale he has a nice body and it dredges up Aziraphale’s residual concerns over what Gabriel said and in the panic-fueled conversation that follows as Crowley tries to right his wrong they slowly step in sync into discussing their feelings and wants. This fic is the big three, communication, consent, and soft. (gets a bit sexy too, but it’s pretty tame)

10,000-ish words

Is It Worth It Yet

link to tumblr promo post

Around abouts the 1000AD mark, in what would become Turkey a few hundred years later, Crowley sat down, took a breath, and told Aziraphale how he feels in a total trainwreck of a conversation. Chapter 1, that conversation. Of course, Aziraphale would then expect Crowley to bring it all up again after the apocalypse, and when he doesn't he decides to take matters into his own hands and broach the topic himself. It doesn't go as well as he'd hoped. Good ending tho, don't worry guys. If you need an overload of angst then a big old hug to pull you up again, this is a good one.

10,000-ish words

Summoned

link to relevant (lemon) art

link to tumblr promo post

Post apocalypse, timeline unspecified. Heaven and Hell refangle the way humans summonings work so it only applies to Aziraphale and Crowley. This means Crowley finds himself summoned an awful lot more than usual. We see their relationship readjust after the apocalypse in snippets of moments as Crowley’s been summoned. It’s mostly fairly light hearted, but there’s a couple chapters of pretty good angst and one very sexy chapter at the end! Just straight up smut, of the light d/s variety

13,000-ish words

Try Some Pride On For A Day

link to some relevant art

link to tumblr promo post

Shortly after the apocalypse, Aziraphale set a challenge down. Sin vs virtue. Each chapter shows an attempt from Crowley to get Aziraphale to succumb to sin, and Aziraphale tricking Crowley into performing a virtue. Some attempts are easier than others, some are impossible. They learn a lot about each other and slip into some unexpectedly honest moments. This one gets sexy but not out of hand. Aziraphale is pretty explicitly asexual.

20,000-ish words

Needed a break, gone to France x

link to tumblr promo post

A few weeks after the apocalypse and Crowley goes to visit Aziraphale to find a note taped to his door. Panic, anxiety, and general sadness over being so broken up with ensue. This is a miscommunication fic with a writing style that leans toward humour rather than angst and has a nice fluffy ending with good asexual overtones

9000-ish words

Heresy

link to tumblr promo post

Set 3000 years after the apocalypse. Crowley and Aziraphale live together and are romantic. They have been left not entirely alone by their old colleagues, but they are unthreatened so it’s all okay. Until one day Beelzebub and Gabriel drop by to visit in the most surprising way. This fic is my first and was written before the discussion of Beelzebubs pronouns kicked off, so I used the actresses pronouns (she/her) instead of they/them which I’ve used since when referring to Beelzebub

2500-ish words

[multific]

The Three of You

Michael B. Jordan x Reader

Summary: Accidents happen, and this accident is both of your faults, but Michael doesn’t think so.

 “I swear to God, Michael, if you don’t get off that couch right now, I will make you regret your life!”

“But Mum!”

“No! You need to go and apologize to Y/N! Right now! She’s the best girl you ever brought home.”

“Mum, you don’t understand, she-she-“

“I don’t know why she got mad a left, but you would be a fool not to go after her.”

Michael rolled his eyes as his father took a part of the argument he had with his mum. Michael’s mother was angry at her son, because he let his girlfriend leave. You left after an argument with Michael, although his parents were in the house, they didn’t hear or know the reason behind it. And now, his mother was determined to change his son’s mind.

“She did the worst possible thing, Dad!”

“She cheated on you?” asked Michael’s mother with a shocked expression.

“No! She got pregnant.” upon hearing the news, Michael’s father took a look at his wife, they had been married for long enough to know when she was about to blow up and whoop their son’s ass. Michael was about to hear it, and his father couldn’t wait.

“What did you just say?” Michael’s mother was calm, way too calm, she probably wanted to confirm is she heard her son correctly.

“I said, she got pregnant, what was I supposed to do, Mum?”

“So, what you are saying is, you made her leave, after she lived with us for the last three years while dating you for the last five, because she got pregnant?” Michael obviously didn’t understand that his mother’s calmness was only the calm before the storm.

“Exactly!”

His mother blinked once, twice.

“How dare you?” his mother’s voice was as calm and collected as ever but it was only the coating, inside she was furious. “I thought I raised you better than to be an asshole. I know you didn’t want to have children, I get that, you told us before. But the fact that, you got your girlfriend pregnant and then you not only yelled at her, but made her leave her home is borderline disgusting.” Michael watched as his mother’s eyes filled with tears. Tears and disappointment. It was a mother’s gaze that sent shivers down his spine.

With one last look his mother walked away, his father following her.

Michael was left alone with his thoughts and with his mother’s words still ringing in his head.

***

You and Michael had something you would call a normal relationship, despite his job and yours.

You were an actress who got invited to the premier of Black Panther, and there you met the very handsome and inviting Michael. He started talking with you and you soon found yourself dating him.

Everything went normally, you started living together with him, and since his parents lived with him, you felt welcomed. You had a great relationship with his mother and often helped his father grill. You knew Michael didn’t want children, he told you before and you respected his decision. However, after a hot and passionate night, you found yourself to be pregnant. You thought about getting an abortion, you thought about the possibility to give your child to another family, but you just couldn’t. You thought the best option should be to talk with Michael and find a solution together, after all he is the father of the child under your heart.

What you didn’t expect was the anger in Michael.

He started yelling, accusing you of cheating then of the fact that you got pregnant on purpose so he had to become a dad.

You don’t remember a lot of what he said or accused you of, all you remember is his last words to you. “Leave my house you whore.”

It hurt your heart to see your kind and gentle Michael become this monster.

When you left, you had nowhere to go, since you were living with Michael, you sold your old apartment, so you stayed in a hotel until you could find a little apartment for yourself and your baby. Although it hurt, you knew you needed to be strong for the two of you even if deep down you were having a panic attack 99.9% of the time. You were alone for the last three months.

Today, you had an appointment with your doctor, it was just a regular check-up on the baby.

Everything went smoothly, you got to hear the baby’s heartbeat and got the date of your next appointment, by that time you’ll be four months into your pregnancy which you found very interesting since your baby bump was just about to get showing.

However as you walked out of the hospital at to your car, your eye caught a very familiar car.

It was the exact model and colour as Michael’s. The car was empty that you can see. You looked around you but he wasn’t there. You quickly made your way to your car, taking deep breaths.

“It cannot be him. It’s just a coincidence, I’m only imagining things.” you told yourself once you were in your car, calming your heart as you quickly drove away.

Your next appointment came quicker than you anticipated. You were now into your fourth month and now you had an apartment which was fairly furnished and your baby was as healthy as you can wish for. As you left the hospital, you saw the same car you did last time, the same your ex-boyfriend was driving. You figured that a worker at the hospital might be the owner, you really wanted to believe that, but when you saw him get out of the car, your heart and legs stopped. You didn’t want to believe that it was Michael at the hospital, you were careful and chose a doctor who was furthest from Michael’s place, so you wouldn’t run into him. And now your biggest fear just happened. He was right there. You felt like you’ll faint. Lucky for you, he didn’t seem to notice you. As you made your way to your car, carefully not to get noticed, you remembered his last words to you, the hatred is his eyes and just how heartlessly the man who taught loved you, put you out.

You wanted to pretend for a moment that you didn’t care, and that you were over him, but how could you? You were carrying his baby under your heart.

You managed to get into your car and drove away, on your whole way back home, you wondered just why he would be there, hoping he didn’t notice you.

Not even a day passed when you heard the knock on your door.

A bit confused, you got off of the couch and walked to open the door. Since it was late afternoon, you weren’t expecting anyone.

And sure enough, the last person you wanted to see, Michael, was in front of your door. Before he could say a thing, you shut the door and locked it back.

“Please, I just want to talk.” you heard him say.

“I think you already said enough, Michael.”

“I won’t leave, please just give me five minutes.”

You opened the door and looked at him.

“Five minutes.” you said with a firm tone and let him in, but not further than your door. You looked at the clock on your wall, taking a note of the time.

“I would like to start by saying, I’m sorry. I behaved like a complete asshole. And throwing you out wasn’t fair of me at all. I should have thought things through before acting, but I got scared. You know how I feel about kids, I get nervous around them and having one on my own scared me to death. I know that’s not an excuse for my horrible words and behaviour, and I’m not going to make any, I was a dick. The fact that you got pregnant is not your fault, I’m the one to blame since I should have paid more attention. I just wanted to apologize and I know you probably don’t want to, but I still love you, so please, come back to me. I mean I’m so ridiculously in love, I cannot even sleep without you, Y/N.”

“You know, Michael. I love you, I honestly do, and what you just told me is exactly what I wanted to hear for the past three and half months. But this isn’t just about me and you anymore. This is about the baby, our baby, I will be a mother and I cannot be selfish. I have to make sure that the future for my child is bright. I cannot go running back to you, and then you take another turn and throw us out. I cannot let that happen.”

“I get it, I honestly do. You can imagine the shit I got from my parents during the time you were gone.” Michael shifted from one leg to another. “But I’m sure. I’m in love with you and I know I can love the child, our child too. I already love half of them, now I just have to settle with my half. Please, Y/N.”

You needed a moment, so you held a finger up to signal him and left to the bedroom. You sat down on your bed and thought things through. Michael looked like he really meant what he said and you believed every word of his. But who knows what would make his switch again and call you a whore while he’s throwing you and your child out.

And yet, will all this fear in your heart, you were determined to risk it. You decided to go back to him, to be with him. And so, that night he slept at your place, with his arms around you, with his palm placed on your belly. It was just the three of you, it was perfect. And Michael was finally able to sleep.

The next day Michael brought you back to your home, his parents were over the moon to see you back at the house. They were so excited for the baby they went on and on about the unborn baby and how much they’ll love them.

You were finally back in yours and Michael’s bed. It was a lot bigger and a lot comfier than yours at the apartment. You felt like you finally arrived home.

Later that week, you had a shower at night, getting ready for bed. Michael was still watching TV with his dad. When you put your pajamas on, you realized your belly started showing, you felt it a couple of times before and it definitely was harder to the touch. 

The signs of your child being healthy and growing steady. You were so caught up, you didn’t notice Michael coming in only when he hugged you and placed his big hands on your smaller ones.

“He’s getting bigger.”

“Excuse me?” you said. “He? What makes you think the baby is a boy?”

“Well, with my amazing genes, he has to be.”

“And what if the baby is a girl?”

“That’s good too! I can already see myself in a tutu pretending to be drinking tea while being surrounded by stuffed animals.”

“Sounds like a dream.” you said with a big sign. The picture Michael just painted for you was perfection. 

You were so excited to see what he would be like as a father.

“It is my dream.” he said, his voice barely a whisper. You didn’t comment on that. Thinking that only a few days ago you still believed he wanted nothing from you and now, you were standing in your home, in his arms, surrounded by nothing but love.

You enjoyed every second as Michael held you. It was only the three of you at that moment, nothing else mattered but the love you felt for one another and for your child. It was true happiness.

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 ~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

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Feedback is greatly appreciated. Thank You for reading my story!~ 

[yunho-es]

Member/s: Seonghwa (ATEEZ), Namjoon (BTS)

Genre: soft/angst

Warnings: swear words

Words: 2133

"May I take your order?"

"Chocolate croissant and orange juice, please." I say, handing back the breakfast card to the waitress. "Namjoon?"

The man in front of me lifts his look from his card. "I will have blueberry pancakes, please." he gives back his card and smiles politely at the waitress. She smiles back at us and leaves with our orders. "I heard your little boyfriend is in town." he coughs.

"Little baldie is here?" I reply calmy, ignoring the fact that he calls him my boyfriend. He laughs and slaps his hands at my words. I know his laugh is coming from his heart when he does that.

"Why baldie?"

"Since he became a little famous on YouTube with his singing he behaves like a kpop idol; dyeing his hair 3 times a month." I roll my eyes and look over at the kitchen door, waiting for my meal to come out.

"So... He's behaving like me?" Namjoon raises his eyebrow.

"You can make fun of me but at the end of the day you are the ones that will end up bald." I can't help myself so I start laughing and he joins. "Also, he's not my boyfriend."

"If we ask you, of course he isn't." the brown haired boy looks towards the kitchen door too, ignoring my suspicious look. Then he takes his phone and starts texting someone.

"What do you mean if you ask me? Who else do you ask?" I know who, but I want to hear the words from someone else so I can be sure. But Namjoon pretends he doesn't hear me and continues to type on his phone. I look down on his screen trying to read the person's name. "Typing on the phone while you're with someone is considered rude, in case you didn't know."

I lean back in my chair and watch his face, waiting for a reaction. But he doesn't move anything except his fingers. Finally, I saw the waitress coming towards our table.

"I swear I'm gonna eat all your pancakes." he smirks and leaves his phone.

"If you do that, it will be your last meal." he says with a wink. The waitress put he croissants and orange juice in front of me, then the pancakes with a glass of water in front of Namjoon. Just as she was about to leave, he stops her. "One medium vegetable omelette and sausages too, please. Thank you."

I give him a confused look. "Don't you have to watch what you eat?" he looks at his pancakes, then at me, then back at his pancakes.

"What are you talking about? I am watching what I eat." he proceeds to stare at his plate. "And it looks delicious." as soon as he said that he stuffed his mouth with the blueberries first, then pancakes.

"You're so funny I forgot how to laugh. Sometimes I miss you when you have a busy schedule but I get tired of you real soon."

"Isn't she a delight?"

I turn around quickly as I feel a voice near my ear. "Holy sh*t!" I jump and the person laughs.

"Nice to see you again." the blonde haired boy said. Just two weeks ago he had blue hair and a different clothing style. "Hi, Namjoon."

"You made it! Unfortunately I'll have to go as soon as I finish this but you have your little girlfriend here." Seonghwa sits next to Namjoon on the opposite side of me and smiles. "You two enjoy. I ordered what you told me." so that is why Namjoon was on the phone the whole time.

The two of them start a small talk and I find myself staring at Seonghwa. His look changed, but his facial expressions and body language didn't. I know exactly how he reacts when he's surprised, angry, happy or sad. I know his eyes very well. Speaking of his eyes, I noticed him giving me a few quick glances. My boyfriend, says Namjoon. I can't wait to find out what that is about.

***

"Kids, it was nice seeing you, but Hoseok told me I have to leave soon to catch them on the bus." Namjoon takes his jacket and puts his sunglasses on. Then he does his little handshake with Seonghwa and hugs me. "Enjoy your meals!"

"How old do I have to be for you to stop calling me a kid?" the blonde boy complains.

"I don't know. All you can do is wait and find out." finally, he gets up and leaves the cafe. Now I'm left with one chocolate croissant, half glass of juice and a boyfriend. They say that based on your morning, that's how the rest of your day will be. Let's see.

"Hi." he speaks first. "I'm sorry I didn't ask if you were comfortable with me coming here. I know that you're not a big fan of me." I notice one of his movements when he's nervous: playing with his fingers and rings.

"Says who?" I can be rude towards him sometimes, roasting the h*ll out of him just to have a good laugh. But as time passes I realise that while I'm getting the laugher, he's getting the embarrassment and lower self-confidence. Today I will be the best I can. "Just because I make a few jokes sometimes that doesn't mean I can't stand you."

"I wouldn't say a few jokes..." he grabs the fork and starts picking the remaining vegetables on his plate, then continues. "Are you still working in the same place?"

I explain to him that our boss had a case in her family and gave all employees three days off. He nods his head at my words as a small sign that he understands. "What about you?" I finish the other croissant, together with the juice and lean back into my chair, ready to listen to him.

"I have a few days off too. Not because something happened to my boss, but because I accidentally set the studio on fire." he replies calmly. I stare at him wide eyed, waiting for him to laugh or at least say that he is joking. But when I see that he doesn't even look at me I realise he is serious.

"Even though I'm really curious about what happened, I have another question."

I decide to ask him about Namjoon's words. It is a joke, but there must be something that created it: a situation, or a person. Seonghwa finishes his plate as well and takes a sip of his water. Then I decide that we should rather take a walk. We've been too long in this place and I need fresh air. I will ask him about it outside.

***

It is a warm, sunny day, just like they said last night on TV. Seonghwa decided that a nearby park was a perfect place to sit and talk, and I agreed. So here we are, sitting on a wooden bench, listening to birds.

"Look, I wanted to ask you-"

"Namjoon told you, didn't he?" he interrupts me. As usually, he avoids to look at me and instead just looks around the park. I turn my body towards him, putting both of my legs on each side of the bench.

"He didn't tell me much. If you want, I can pretend that I don't know anything and you can say what you wanted instead of him." I try to speak as calm as I can. With his hands in his pockets and his lip under his teeth, he still refuses to look at me. I never saw how pretty his side profile is. He truly looks like an idol: with his clear skin, sharp jaw, almost perfect face proportions.

Finally, he sighs and turns his head towards me and catches me staring. "I think I have feelings for you." he goes straight to the point. My mouth suddenly gets dry and I try to think of my next words, but when he sees that I'm trying to speak, he puts his hand up as a sign to stop. "Let me finish. Believe me when I say that I have no clue when this started, and how it started. You always made fun of me and my dreams, but I laughed with you. You always refused to go out with me anywhere, and when you did go out with me, suddenly a third person would join. In case you didn't notice, I found a job in a studio on the other side of the city, just to be far from you. That way I could help both of us, but it didn't work. I still have no f*cking idea how I fell for a person like you, but I'm-"

"A person like me?" I raise my eyebrow. "What is that supposed to mean?" the blonde haired boy laughs at my words, making me even angrier.

"From all of the things I said, that's what you decide to ask me? Yes, a person like you. A mean person. A person that would embarrass anyone just to give the crowd a good laugh, even if it meant breaking the person. You know what? Forget it. I'm going back to the hole which I came from and I'll continue working hard on my stupid and impossible dreams, as you say. I don't even know what I expected from you." with those words, he gets up from the bench, not giving me a single look. Then he starts walking away. It takes me a few moments to replay all of his words in my head, and I get mad at myself for getting mad at him. He has every right to be like this, but one thing I still can't understand.

"Hey, idiot!" I slap myself mentally. Was it hard to call him by his name? It stayed as a habit, I guess. As expected, Seonghwa doesn't turn around, so I'm forced to run towards him. I grab his arm and stand in front of him, thinking of my next words. A sorry is all I can say. His gaze is killing me. From the look on his face I can see that he is remembering all the moments I let him down. I've never felt more ashamed and bad. He laughs sarcastically again and keeps walking. "No, please! You have no idea how sorry I am. All I wanted was to fit in I didn't even think about-"

"That's the thing. You didn't even think." he interrupts me for the second time today. "I hope you feel at least a little bit like I felt most of the time."

He's trying to look angry, but every few seconds his gaze softens. I used a boy with dreams to impress people I didn't even know. As a result, I broke him.

"But still, my mind and my heart are so tired and broken that I still wish to grab you and kiss you right here, hoping that you won't push me away." the words leave his mouth as a soft whisper. My hand is still holding his arm and I can't seem to let go.

All the words he said to me made me see him in a different light. I always saw him as that guy with good grades, but too big dreams, as the guy who could take all the jokes and even make jokes about himself. But right now, in front of me stood a grown up man, confessing everything so bravely. And his wish became true; I did feel a bit like he did. Humiliated and ashamed, but ashamed of my behaviour, not my dreams.

As we stood like that in the middle of the park, I didn't notice that he closed the gap between our bodies and gently removed my hand from his arm. "I really want to kiss you." he admits and waits for a response.

"How can you kiss a person like me?" my eyes are slowly starting to get teary as I keep replaying all his words in my head. He doesn't respond to that. Instead, he grabs my face gently with both his hands and presses his soft lips on mine. I close my eyes with a sigh and allow myself to return every kiss he gives me. I melt into his touch and find myself asking for more. After a few very short kisses, he pulls away.

"How can I not kiss a person like you?" he smiles. "You did make me feel miserable, but that didn't stop me for developing feelings for you. And I always believe in second chances when it comes to people. So please use it well."

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs, “Positive Reinforcement.”

You guys wanted to see the spiderlngs meet his family, and that is what you shall have! Hope you guys have a good day 

“Glados! Stop nipping at people.”

The spiderling, now somewhere between a terrier and a border collie was getting big enough now that she could actually do some damage with those large glittering teeth, though Adam was having trouble disciplining her. She always had a choleric temper, but the longer things went on, the worse she got.

Adam had a bandage on one hand fro where she ha d bitten him, and worst of all, he was the one she actually liked.

Sunny, Conn and Krill huddled at the back of the shuttle while the commander attempted to keep the spiderling still by holding her on his lap.

The other two, Cortana and Hal were curled up together at Sunny’s feet, relatively mellow, and downright friendly in comparison to their sister.

“No, no no no.” The spiderling continued to repeat, squirming and wriggling in the commander’s arms as he attempted to pilot the shuttle.

If he was any less of a pilot they might not have survived the flight, but somehow, they managed to land, the path of their engines deforming the grass with the power of the engines, before setting down and finally settling into place.

He shut off the power and in frustration looked down at Glados.

“Glados! Stop it, right now.”

She didn't listen to him, instead proceeding to nip at him again. Her jerked back away from her, but still, she caught him a glancing blow on the cheek.

A stream of blood beaded up in the wound.

Sunny could tell by the look on his face that he was livid. Adam wasn’t known to be an angry person, so to see him like this, during a time other than war was…. Disconcerting to say the least.

Their issues with Glados had escalated in the past few weeks, so much so that Adam was constantly bandaged from her antics, and others around the ship were almost to wary to approach the captain knowing that glados would be there. It had ruined his social life, and had even driven a block between him and his closest friends, Sunny, Krill, Conn, Katie, Ramirez, and Mav.

The man was at the end of his rope, and had even contemplated dropping her off back on her home planet to let her real parents deal with her, but Sunny could tell he felt really guilty about even thinking that.

So, he had made a decision.

To consult the smartest human he knew.

His mother.

He tucked the still wriggling glados under one arm the expression on his face, so done than Suny and Krill said nothing. Even Conn kept his thoughts to himself, uncharacteristically, as Adam marched towards the door and pushed it open.

They were already waiting for him when he stepped outside.

A blond woman with a hair a little longer than shoulder length, and a quiet man, graying at the temples wearing a baseball cap. They both smiled upon seeing him before their eyes dropped to the snarling ball of anger under his right arm, and the two little scuttling figures at his heels.

Mr. Vir raised an eyebrow, “So…. this is our…..” He glanced at his wife, “Three quarters grandchildren?” 

Martha just looked on in fond exasperation at her son, “Its like when Thomas was a kid, he used to bring home little animals and ask to keep them as pets, but I swear every time you come home you bring a new alien.”

Adam walked to stop in front of them mouth tugging up at one corner though he didn’t smile, again very uncharacteristic.

At Mr. Vir’s feet, Hal and cortana had begun sniffing his pant leg recognizing the smell. The man glanced down looking a little off put but willing. After a glance from his wife, he knelt down and allowed the two to sniff at his hands. Cortana rubbed her head against him opening her mouth, and letting off that strange distorted voice, “Adam?” 

The man pulled his hand back then tentatively patted her back like he would a dog, “Erm, no. I am Adam’s father, Jim.”

Sunny could have laughed at the scene before them as Martha reached down to pat the spiderlings before standing up and approaching Adam.

He pulled back, “You might want to stay over there, mom. She’s not exactly a big fan of strangers, or really anyone who gets close to me.

She paused sympathetic, “You look tired.”

“Exhausted…. I…. she’s getting worse and I, well I don’t know what to do.”

As if on cue, Glados began to wriggle again screaming, “NO NO NO NO NO.”

Martha’s mouth drew into a sharp line, “Mmhmm, I see. Kind of reminds me of Thomas when he was a toddler, don’t you think,hun.” She said, directing her question towards her husband, who, to Adam’s surprise, was now sitting on the ground with the spiderlings, holding one in his lap and allowing the other to crawl up his back.

Then again dad had always been good with kids, though he hadn’t exactly expected the adaptids to count. He looked up smiling, “Oh yes, I remember it well his terrible twos were well….. “ he frowned, “Terrible.”

Adam looked hopeful, “so, you think you can help me?”

Martha nodded, “I think there are a few things we can try. Have you done rewards, timeouts, taking away things from her. That sort of thing.”

Adam shuffled his feet, “Well, no. I guess. I guess I haven’t really been looking at them as toddlers, since, you know. They well, aren't exactly human.” 

“Well we begin there. With your crash course in parenting. Come on inside and we can get right into it.” 

He thanked her and walked past, joining his dad who, carried one spiderling in his arms, and the other on his shoulders, laughing as Hal sniffed at his ears and nibbled at the brim of his hat.

Martha stayed behind greeting the doctor with a smile, “it's good to see you back, Dr. Krill.”

“A pleasure as always, Martha.” He responded walking past.

Sunny gave her a nervous nod of the head. They hadn’t exactly had the best relationship starting out, but both of them were trying very hard for Adam’s sake. “Ms. Vir.” Sunny said, “Thank you for helping. This has been really rough on Adam. I wish I could do more but….. Glados doesn’t exactly like me.”

“Well at least he has a good friend like you who does their best. Head on inside and take a seat.”

She greeted Conn last, looking up at the starborn with narrowed eyes, “So you’re the mind reader.”

Conn had lifted his hands to say something, but a motion from martha stopped him, “I’ve heard about you. Now you better remember I have company, and a lot of small children running around. So I will be having none of your balktalk or sass while you are here. Do you understand?”

The starborn’s smug expression melted away, and he simply signed, “Yes Ma’am.”

“Good, now head on inside.”

The starborn did as told, discreetly trying his best to keep his ribbons from knocking into anything, which was quite uncharacteristic of the starborn.

When she walked back inside. Her husband was sitting on the couch, two spiderlings in his lap fixated to the TV with him, sunny, was politely sitting on the floor by the couch out of the way. Krill had taken the seat next to Jim, and Adam had claimed a chair all his own, trying to keep Glados contained as she proceeded to start squirming squealing and screaming nipping and biting at him.

He looked about ready to chuck her across the room.

“Does she often throw tantrums like this?” Martha wondered 

Through his teeth, “Yes, more and more so lately.”

“And what do you usually do.”

“I just…. Deal with it.”

“Do you give her attention?”

“I have to, don’t I.”

Jim shook his head absently and the spiderlings followed suit copying the man’s movements. Martha shook her head, “You’re teaching her than throwing fits gets her attention. What we need to do is, no matter what, if she throws a fit, we have to ignore her. Now considering as she can actually do some damage by biting, my suggestion is to put her in a room and lock the door, and wait her out.

Adam looked skeptical, “But she can go forever, mom.”

“We said the same thing about Thomas, and yes he would scream for an hour, but eventually ed run out of steam.”

Adam looked skeptical, but with the help of his mother, they went into the, mostly empty, laundry room, set glados down and quickly hurried out. 

What followed was admittedly very impressive. None of them had ever herd a creature scream and make a fit like that.

Jim simply turned up the TV. Conn looked smug that he couldn't hear it, and the rest of them moved into the kitchen.

Martha proceeded to clean up her son’s hands, “You know it was always up in the air whether you were going to end up a father, I just didn’t think this is how it was going to go.”

Adam sighed, “believe you me, this isn’t exactly what I had in mind either. Not that I don’t love them, obviously I do, but glados….. Sometimes I just.” He hung his head, “Sometimes I think about hurting her and I am…. A horrible person.”

Martha laughed, “Adam, all parents think about smacking the annoying out of their kids on occasion, the difference between a good parent and a bad one is that the bad ones actually act on that impulse.” She finished up with his hands, “Is there anything that Glados like specifically? A treat or something? And how much does she understand?”

He sighed, taking a seat at the kitchen table, “They are primarily meat eaters. Chicken works, I find, and I am pretty sure they understand more than your average toddler, though that just makes them more contrary sometimes.”

Martha smiled, “Then I have at least one idea. There are two areas of parenting that we know tend to work. That is positive and negative  reinforcement. Either you add a good stimulus for good behavior, or you take away a negative stimulus for good behavior. We know positive punishment like hitting doesn't work in the least and negative punishment, while popular, is not as effective as the reinforcements. So what we are going to do.” She reached into the kitchen fridge and pulled out some lunch meat, “We are going to positive reinforce the two who are behaving, and allow Glados to see that, though she is not allowed to get any unless she behaves.”

They walked into the next room, the open bag of meat permeating the air with a smell that attracted a head turning form the adaptids, and the dog. Martha threw a slice to Waffles before walking over to sit next to her husband.

She patted the spiderlings, “Aren't you so good and well behaved.” She cooed tearing off little pieces of meat, which she fed to them one by one.

Off in the other room, Glados had gone quiet lured in by the smell.

The other two ate an entire slice.

“It is so sad that glados is too naughty to get treats, because treats only go to good ...? Spiderlings?”

She walked back into the kitchen and put the food away.

The ensuing hour, GLados kicked up a fit, but eventually quieted back down.

“You can go get her now.” Martha indicated, “Generally children don’t need to be in timeout for that long, but since she understands more than your average child, I think it is safe to say it may take longer because she is more stubborn.”

Adam sighed and got up opening the door to the laundry room. Glados was sitting in the corner moping not looking at Adam.

He sighed and walked over, “Are you going to behave yourself now.”

Glados didn’t answer, but he supposed that was a good thing, picking her up and carrying her back into the living room. 

At least she wasn’t screaming No repeatedly.

[5289belle]

Captain America’s Legacy

Summary: When Katerina Rogers watches as the flags smashers cause further mayhem, she knows she needs to come out of hiding and go help Sam and Bucky take them down, all while dealing with the fact that the United States government replaced her dad with some idiot as Captain America.

Meet Katerina (Katy) Rogers, the daughter of Natasha and Steve. Will take place during the falcon and the winter solider with some flashbacks to black widow and civil war. Also Tony is alive in this timeline, Steve did that snap instead, Natasha still died getting the soul stone.

Chapter One Captain Americas Legacy 

Sitting on the bed in her hotel room in Paris, Katy looked up to the tv and watched as Sam Wilson gave away her dad’s legacy to some museum. How could he when her father had chosen him to replace him while he lay there dying, anger and grief swelled up in her as she angerly switched off the tv.

It had been six months since she lost both of her parents within hours of each other and it hadn’t gotten any easier, she was all alone with her grief. Wanda was off somewhere trying to get through her own trauma and grief, Clint was taking time to be with his family again, thinking of him getting to be with them again made it easier to handle her mama’s sacrifice. It hurt too much to be around her mama’s family, they all reminded her too much of her mama. Tossing and turning in bed she found it difficult to sleep when she knew what awaited once she did manage to go unconscious for a few tortured hours.

Sometime around six and five am she managed to fall into a semiconscious slumber, until her alarm went of at noon. Rolling over to turn it off and turn back into her pillow to get a little bit more rest. Soon she would have to get up and leave. Never stay in one place too long, that was her motto, the constant moving helped to keep her mind distracted.

About two weeks later she was strolling through the streets of London when she spotted the news paper stand. On the front cover it read “Cap is Back” below it described how John Walker was the new Captain America. Unable to read anymore she back away and ran back to her hotel room. Flipping on the tv to try and forget what she had just seen, she looked up to see the man in question having a interview on Good Morning America. She felt sick to her stomach, scoffing she sat down to see just who this Walker guy was.

“It’s the greatest honor of my life um, but I I’m just a little shocked how’d a guy like me end up here?”

Ugg, his obvious self-depreciation was revolting, as if. She could tell he was trying to hard to emulate that humble hero, trying to emulate her dad. After watching a few more minutes to get a better understanding she decided she had enough and flipped the channel. In its stead a news report about the flag smashers was playing.

Apparently they were escalating and even caused a panic and injuries at a robbery. Watching the news footage, she noticed that one of the masked smashers had apparent super strength. That was news to her, to her knowledge the only ones with the super soldier serum that was still alive was, her dedushka(grandpa), all the former black widows had a form of the serum including Yelena and her babushka(grandma), Bucky, and herself. Though her was from her parents passing on their enhanced genetic codes.

Letting out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding in, she looked down to her hands. This whole situation was getting out of hand and obviously the GNC couldn’t handle. She knew she couldn’t hide out anymore, not when people were getting hurt. It was time to go back home and follow in her parents’ footsteps.

Two hours later she was on a plane, heading back to the states.

Hopping out of her uber she thanked the driver and closed the door. Now she only had to find Sam and get to the bottom of the situation. According to his phone he shouldn’t be too far off. Not too far up ahead she spotted him with Bucky, having one of their usual banters no doubt. Though the closer she got to them she noticed Bucky a bit more. He had cut his hair, and hot damn if it did not suit him. “Fuck me” she muttered to herself before noticing and blushing.

You have got to be kidding me when did she find herself thirsting after him. Okay be cool she thought to herself, but damn he really was hot.

“Well I don’t trust redwing” Bucky said to Sam and he followed after him.

“You don’t have to trust redwing, but I’m gonna go see if he’s right. Because I have a feeling they might be part of the big three.” Sam replied back slightly annoyed by the other man.

Hold up, the big three? What the hell is that? Apparently Bucky didn’t know either because he asked Sam “What big three?”

Looking at him incredulously he replied “ the big three, androids, aliens, and wizards”

Shaking his head Bucky said “that’s not a thing’

“Since when has that been a thing?” Katy interrupted with genuine interest.

Both men looked over in shock, they hadn’t expected to see her. Not after she took after and disappeared.

Bucky did a double glance real quick, she seemed different somehow.

“Where have you been all this time? We looked everywhere for you.” Sam said with a worried expression. Giving them a tight-lipped smile, she looked away towards the skyline and then turned back to them. “Oh, you know, touring Europe.” Grimacing she continued “ I just, couldn’t face it. It was easier to disappear, but when I noticed all the trouble the flag smashers were causing and the GNC inability to do anything, I decided it was time to come back.”

“Are you doing any better?” Sam asked. “Of course, others wise I wouldn’t be here. Any way what the hell is the big three? I’ve never heard of that..”

Rolling his eyes Sam, looked to Bucky and then back to Katy. “ You know the big three, anytime we fight anyone it one of those three.”

“So who are you fighting now? Gandalf?” Bucky replied back sarcastically.

Taking a moment to register what he said Sam responded back incredulously “ uhh, how do you know about Gandalf?”

“ I read the hobbit, in 1937 when it first came out”

“So you see my point”

“oh, I love the hobbit. I read it back in fifth grade” Katy said to aloud, glancing at the both of them she was surprised to see they looked shocked at her admission. “What, it’s a good book.”

Looking back to Sam Bucky replied “No I don’t, there are no wizards”

“Doctor Strange” Sam said to which Bucky quickly replied “Is a sorcerer”

“ahh, ha ha. A sorcerer is a wizard without the pointy hat.” Sam said smiling in triumph.

“No, a wizard does magic with a wand or stick, a sorcerer used their hands” Katy interview with her commentary.

“Same difference” Sam looked over to her.

“Any ways’ he went on “they use brute strength, just like you guys and are incredibly annoying like the guy in front of me with a staring problem” With that he walked away to the plane with Katy and Bucky hot on his heels.

“I’m coming with you” Bucky and Katy said in unison to Sam.

“No you’re not”

“Uh, yeah we are. I’m not just going to sit back while I could be doing something to help people. Okay so I am going with you rather you like it or not. She said with a snarky tone, looking for Bucky to back her up. He merely nodded to her and followed Sam into the plane.

“Fine you and Cyborg can come with, just don’t annoy me” Rolling his eyes Sam couldn’t help but think how much she reminded him of Steve, always sure of what they were doing.

A few hours later sitting on the plane Bucky and Sam were having some kind of stare off. Looking between the two of them she couldn’t believe it. Seriously they were to grown ass men behaving like teenagers, her partners on this mission. Joy. Standing Bucky asked, “So what’s our plan?” Sam merely looked over to him and went back to putting in his earpiece and handing one over to her.

“Great, so no plan” Bucky said while sitting back down.

Torres interrupted with “Thirty seconds”

“Enjoy your ride Buck and Kat”

“Nah you can’t call me that”

“Why not, that’s what Steve called you”, shooting back Bucky said “Steve knew me longer, and Steve had a plan”

“Fifteen seconds to drop”

“I have a plan”

“Really? What is it?” he said while spreading his arms out walking toward Sam and Torres. Following after them Katy, stepped closer to Bucky.

Sam just jumped out the window, rather than replying back and dealing with those two.

Looking over to Torres Bucky asked “Great, where is the chute?”

“Were 200 hundred feet. It’s too low for a chute”

Huffing, Katy looked to Torres and asked, “Do you have some rope?”

“I don’t need it anyway” Bucky said while walking over to the open doorway and ripping off his sleeve with the metal arm.

“Yes we have some rope, why exactly” Torres questioned, looking over at Katy.

“Perfect, I can use that to jump out. Thank you”

Looking back to Bucky he replied, “You sure about that?”

“Yeah”, with that he jumped straight out.

Walking back over with the rope he handed it to her and watched as she wrapped it around herself and then to the plane, “have a nice flight” Without she dove right out of the plane and did a flip while holding out to the rope and scaling down to the ground. After fifteen seconds she let go and free fell another fifty feet before lading and doing her iconic superhero pose.

Looking over a few dozen feet, she noticed Bucky laying on the ground trying to catch his breath. Letting out a chuckle and smiling she walked over to him to make sure he was okay.

Standing over him she put her hands on her hips and looked down while asking “Are you okay? That looked like it hurt”

Suddenly Sam interrupted with mirth “I have all of that on camera, you know that right”

Then redwing flew over to them, Bucky merely looked over to her and said “Yeah, im fine. How are you?” and then looking over to redwing hovering above them he grunted “ Get out of my face, Sam or I’ll break it.”

In the comms he just simply said “okay, head north”

Sticking her hand out to him she offered to help him up. Reaching to take her hand with her flesh one she pulled him up, and then quickly took a step back flustered at his proximity, “come on lets go” with that she went north.

Walking into the abandoned building Bucky and Katy looked around, while walking around redwing swooped right by Bucky prompting him to swat at it while she chuckled, and Sam said “don’t hurt him”

While they walked up to Sam he called out “You’re doing that staring thing again”, looking down to his wrist he continued “They’re in there.”’

“Where’s they guy?” Bucky asked, “I don’t know, I think they’re smuggling weapons, though.”

“Well, I think you could be right”

“hmm,” was all Sam said.

“Well, I think we should do something about it rather than just standing here and bantering about it” Katy called out with a smirk and then walked closer to get a better look to see what the two guys were doing.

Looking over to her Bucky had a light smile reach his eyes at her quip, while Sam just laughed. “There’s only one way to find out, I see a clear path. I say we take it.”

“We’re not assassins”

Grimacing as his reply Katy looked over her shoulder and then looked back.

“I’ll see you inside or not.” Bucky replied in his deep baritone voice staring out Sam, then walking over to Katy.

“Hey, come on man. I’m just messing with you. Come back” smiling Sam trailed after them.

With Bucky leading they way she trailed behind him.

“Look at you. All stealthy.” Chuckling Sam continues through the comms “all stealthy. A little time in Wakanda and you come out White Panther”

“It’s actually White Wolf”

“Huh”

“All right, I’m inside therefore, way ahead of you.” Crouching down her looks over to Katy and then back to the scene in front of them. “It’s not great, but very doable with Katy and I”

Feeling a presence creeping up behind her she looks back to see Sam stealthy creeping up behind them.

“huh”, Bucky said in confusion”, then went on in a sarcastic tone “Hello. How are you?”

“Good. What did I miss?”

“Nothing”

Huffing out she replied between them “Boys, can we get back to the mission? Kind of important here..”

“Alright let’s go” Bucky replied

“No wait.” Sam said.

“I got a vibranium arm. I can take them”

Something felt off about this, it looked almost too easy, before she could say anything Sam quickly responded “And I can fly, Katy can take them down with hand-to-hand combat. Who gives a shit? Wait.” “I wanna see where they’re going”

“Now wait a minute, I can do more than that” she said offended.

“There’s two people”

“You only see two?, what about you Kat?”

“That’s what I saw. Bucky responded while looking over to her.

“I only see two, but I..” She stops to take a break and then looks at them unsteadily. “I can sense more, if that makes sense.”

Both men are surprised by this and look at her questioningly.

Sighing she looks to them and the says “About seven years ago I was taken by the red room, and they experimented on me, apparently they saw an opportunity with my already enhanced DNA. From that I’ve been able to sense things, kind of like a sixth sense. I don’t know if that makes any sense, but it’s all I got.” Unable to elaborate anymore she looks away and hopes they will be satisfied with that answer.

Noticing her apprehension, they let it go for now and focus back on the mission. Bucky has a straight face, yet there’s concern there and a bit of understanding.

“Let me see what redwing sees.” Looking down at his wrist Sam points of the multiple body heat signatures redwing is picking up.

Grateful they let it go, she looks over to see that there appears to be five people.

How many people you see now? One, two…. Oh, here it comes again. Four, five. Yeah five.” Sam continues while Bucky just snaps “fine”

“Yeah.”

“So they’re strong whatever. All right lets go.”

“No, no wait. Shit”

Watching as the people look up from the noise, the trio held still trying not to be noticed. Finally, they looked on and continued their tasks.

“Alright, lets move” A woman call out to the other people. Waiting for them to be out of sight the three follows after . Looking at his wrist Sam notices that one of the trucks has an eight person in it. “I think they have a hostage he remarks.”

With that Bucky and Katy run off towards the truck while Sam flies towards it.

Running up the truck Bucky jumps up onto the back and opens the door climbing in, with Katy hot on his wheels. Walking in further he begins to look around, trying to find the hostage. Looking around they notices the crate and the contents, “They’re stealing medicine. Vaccines”

Looking up she notices a young woman poke her head out from one the crates, she looks scared and slightly hopeful. Alarm bells are going off in Katy’s head, but before she can do anything Bucky is saying hi and getting himself jacked out of the truck.

“Oh shit” she remarks before kicking out the woman and then turning to Bucky to see him being pulled up onto the car truck by two guys. Jumping up onto the other truck she goes to help him out with the other woman right on her heels. Turing around she blocks a swing from the red head and take a step back raising her arms and falling into a defense position.

Thrusting her foot forward she kicks out at the woman and hit her gut before she can even react. Thanks to her mom she has the quicker reflexes and quickly continues on her attack, turning to check on Bucky.

In her distraction the other woman get a kicks in and sends her flying back before Bucky’s feet, redwing then comes soaring in taking shots. The woman jumps up and catches it and then uses her knee to break it in half.

While on her back Katy quickly jumps back up landing with her one foot tucked in a kneeling position and the other in front while her hands are touching the floor.

Bucky looks up and happily says “I always wanted to do that.”

Sam’s going to be pissed she thought with a smirk and then turned and lashed out at the guys holding onto Bucky, sending them stumbling away. Ordinary her kicks would have wiped them out, but with the serum the just took a few steps back. Annoyed by this she turned around to see Sam swooping down and kicking the woman.

Ha she thought, I knew it.

While Sam was engaging in combat with the woman Bucky yelled out “Good of you to join the fight Sam” Quickly Bucky and she took on the other two men. In the meantime, the fight was joined by the other truck rolling up and two other men joining.

Sam was kicked onto to other truck leaving Katy to run up to the other guys and quickly jump up towards them, using her body as leverage she wraps her thighs around one of the guys and uses the momentum to throw him down, quickly raising her wrist she shoots out one of her widow’s bites from her gauntlet. It was a gift from her mother for her eighteenth birthday.

To her dismay it didn’t take him down for long, “Damn super soldiers” She muttered to herself.

Suddenly one of the men fighting Sam was hit by her father’s shield, looking up she noticed a helicopter with that Walker idiot jumping out. Rolling her eyes, she went on fighting.

Before she knows it the shield is flying around nocking the flag smashers down, while another mans jumps down on a rope. Great another idiot to contend with, who the hell is he supposed to be?

“Sam. John Walker, Captain America.”

“Lemar Hoskins”

Walker continues “Looks like you guys can use some help”

The two men say, responding to the questioning looks.

Ugg she thinks he looks way to proud to be brandishing that shield around. Dark thoughts quickly take over her mind, the very sight of him enrages her. Using that anger she quickly takes out her opponent.

The woman quickly makes her way up the Walker and Hoskins, Walker goes to hit her with the shield and then throws it out the other guys, while it soars back Bucky catches it with ease, handing it over to Walker reluctantly.

Witnessing the whole thing, the only thing that comes to mind to Katy was “Damn, that was hot” While slightly panting, blushing and hoping no one notices she looks towards the other two.

The fighting continues for a few more minutes before Bucky is pushed off the truck, faltering at the sight she receives a swift hit to the gut, quickly focusing back on the task at hand she continues to fight. Worried over Bucky still she notices Sam swoop in and them him and Bucky tumble away onto the field. With her head turned away her opponent kicks her off the truck sending her over in the direction the other two went.

Tumbling onto the ground below her and then rolling onto the grass, she berates herself for allowing herself to get distracted enough to get her ass handed to her. She was better than this, trained by a former red room assassin and a freaking super soldier since she was her girl.

Standing up she notices Sam and Bucky walking towards her.

“Well, that went horrible. We got a asses handed to us back there. I mean we are professional’s right? Because after that it seems like were amateurs. It’s embarrassing”

“Yeah, we sure did. Although I might add they were all super soldiers” Sam tuned in while him and Bucky walked off onto the road following after her.

“Well, this should be a fun walk back” Bucky said aloud looking straight ahead. Are you okay doll?” He said looking towards her.

Stuttering in her steps at the name, she quickly collected herself and responded with a smile “Never better, always love it when I take a tumble off a moving semi-truck, in the middle of nowhere.”

“Only twenty more miles to go of this” Sam intoned.

[forensicsisabelle]

Not Too Bad

SRating: General Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: F/F Fandom: Shadowhunters (TV) Relationships: Helen Blackthorn/Aline Penhallow, Alec Lightwood & Aline Penhallow, Max Lightwood-Bane & Aline Penhallow, Helen Blackthorn & Max Lightwood-Bane Characters: Aline Penhallow, Alec Lightwood, Helen Blackthorn, Max Lightwood-Bane, Magnus Bane Additional Tags: Background Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Married Helen Blackthorn/Aline Penhallow, Married Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Babysitting, Shadowhunter Bingo Summary: Aline and Helen have begun discussing having kids, but Aline is worried that she doesn't have what it takes to be a good parent. After a heart-to-heart with Alec, Aline finds herself babysitting baby Max in what Alec and Helen hope will be a self-esteem boost. But things don't go as planned.

Written for @shadowhunterbingo Square filled: babysitting

Read on AO3.

“Aline?”

Alec’s questioning finally caught her attention, and Aline sat up straight, dropping her hand that she’d been resting her chin on as she stared at the fire on the other side of her office. Her cheeks warmed as she tilted her head up to look at Alec standing opposite where she sat at the desk, just to the side of the same fire. She prided herself on her abilities as a Shadowhunter, yet she hadn’t heard him approach or the knock on the door that she assumed he’d given her before walking in.

“Sorry,” she said with a self-conscious smile. “I’m a little distracted today.”

“I can see that,” Alec said, lowering himself into one of the chairs in front of her desk. He watched her for a moment before he continued. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No, no,” Aline said, waving her hand dismissively through the air. “It’s nothing that anyone should be worried about. I’d much rather discuss why you’re here. I assume there’s something you need to tell me?”

Alec’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t press her any further.

“Uh, yeah,” he said. “I was talking to Lindquist. A vampire clan in their jurisdiction wants to speak to the Clave, so I was hoping to talk to your mom about scheduling a meeting. Only she wasn’t in her office, so I came to see if you could pass the message on.”

Aline gave him a smile, much more at ease with the topic safely on work instead of anything personal. Alec may have been her friend, but she’d been having trouble discussing her feelings with Helen recently, let alone anyone else. Still, she felt dangerously close to blurting out her feelings to anyone who asked.

“Of course,” she said. “Last I heard, Mom had a meeting with Tessa Gray from the Spiral Labyrinth this morning, but I think she’ll be finished soon. We had plans to meet for lunch. I can pass on your message then.”

“Sounds good,” Alec said. “I was just about to head out to lunch myself, so I was hoping to let her know before I left. Better we don’t leave the Lindquists waiting too long. They’re not a big fan of your mother. Don’t want to give them more reasons to dislike her.”

Aline cringed. Now that Alec mentioned it, she remembered the spat her mother and the Lindquists had gotten into several years earlier. She couldn’t even remember what the fight had been about, but dealing with them had been touchy with her mother ever since.

“I’ll definitely let her know,” she said with a decisive nod.

With their business complete, she’d expected Alec to excuse himself, but he remained sitting in the chair across from her desk, watching Aline as if he were trying to sort something out. She stiffened, already sure of what was coming and dreading it.

“You sure you don’t want to talk about whatever had you lost in your own head when I came in?” he asked hesitantly.

They’d known each other for years, but Alec had always been more closed off with Aline than Isabelle or Jace. It was only in the past few years that she felt she’d really gotten to know the real him and not a closed off version that he’d carefully crafted to hide himself. She was pretty sure that he could say the same about her, even if she liked to think her facade had appeared more genine than his.

She sighed, feeling her resistance crumbling from no other power than his gaze.

“Helen and I have been talking about adoption,” she admitted. “It’s not new. We both said we wanted to have kids when we first got together, but now we’re really talking about it.”

“Like the ‘it may happen soon’ kind of talking about it?” Alec asked, leaning forward in his chair.

His eyes sparkled with excitement at the idea, and Aline couldn’t hold back a snort of laughter at his eagerness for someone else to have kids. She never would have pegged Alec as a kid person before baby Max had come along, yet his son had made him more baby crazy than anyone she knew. Not even her wife with her million siblings who she’d practically raised could compare.

“I think so,” Aline said quietly, her gaze on the fire. “It would make sense. We’re married now. We’re settled, and we’ve always said that we would. Now’s the time.”

Alec’s excited smile dropped into something threatening to become a frown.

“Are you sure about it?” he asked. “Because if you don’t actually want kids, you shouldn’t—”

“I do,” Aline rushed to assure him.

With anyone else, she would have been offended that they’d offered unsolicited advice as if she hadn’t carefully considered everything for herself, but she didn’t feel that way towards Alec. She just felt tired after the long morning she’d had obsessing over the same nagging thoughts that had been coming and going for months.

“I want kids,” she added even more forcefully. “That’s something I’m sure of, and I wouldn’t have promised Helen otherwise if I wasn’t. It’s just that…” She fiddled with her pen the click clack of her opening and closing it echoing through the room. “I’m an only child,” she continued. “Helen has lots of younger brothers and sisters. She’s been around kids her whole life, and she’s so good at taking care of them. Any time that something happens, she knows exactly what to do. It’s like she doesn’t need to think about it.”

Aline clicked the pen closed and threw it down on the desk before sinking back into her chair. Alec was silent as he watched her, a thoughtful frown creasing his brow.

“I don’t have instincts like that,” Aline admitted, staring into the fire. “I’m an only child. The closest I’ve come to taking care of kids is helping out with Helen’s siblings sometimes, but there’s always someone else around too. And they were all older when I met them anyway. It was nothing like taking care of an actual baby, you know? I don’t know how to do that.”

She fell quiet, her cheeks were warm, but she couldn’t tell if it was from embarrassment or the heat from the fire. She tapped her fingers against the armrest of her chair, waiting for Alec to say something to end the judgement she felt.

“Lots of people don’t know much about kids when they have their own,” he said slowly, turning over each word carefully before he said them. I was eleven when my youngest brother was born, and I had to help out some, but that was nothing compared to having my own kid. And lots of only children have kids. Either way, you have to figure out everything as you go. It’s difficult sometimes, but I know you and Helen would be up for it. You’d care too much to do a bad job.”

Aline offered him as genuine of a smile as she could muster.

“Thank you. I wish I could believe that as much as you claim to.”

Alec shook his head in amusement.

“Well, if practice would make you feel better, Magnus and I are always up for a date night. You and Helen can watch Max any time. Just let us now.”

The idea sent adrenaline through Aline’s veins. She’d never watched a kid as young as Max before. She wasn’t even sure if she’d held a kid as young as Max except for the times she’d held Max himself. As a result, she’d always been more nervous around the baby than she wanted to admit.

“Do you mean that?” she asked. “You’d trust us with him?”

“Why wouldn’t we?” Alec asked with a laugh. “Like you said, Helen has a ton of experience. Between the two of you, I can’t imagine anything bad would happen.”

It wasn’t a bad idea. Aline knew Max better than she’d ever known a baby, and she knew he was fairly well behaved. A bit mischievous at times as was probably required by the son of Magnus Bane, but it was nothing too bad. If she couldn’t handle him, then it would be a real sign that she needed more experience under her belt before she and Helen took the next step.

“I should talk to Helen first,” she said. “But thanks for the offer. It’s not a bad idea.”

“Of course,” Alec said, standing from his chair. “Like I said, just let us know if you want us to bring him around. We can make plans.”

She gave him one last smile as they said goodbye. Already, nerves were building in Aline’s stomach. Asking Helen about this meant admitting that she needed practice, and that on top of actually taking care of Max made her more nervous than it should have.

Aline plastered her best smile on her face as she tugged open the door to reveal the Lightwood-Bane family on the other side.

“Look who it is!” Alec crowed to the baby warlock in his arms.

Max babbled with excitement, smiling widely at Helen and Aline. He flapped his arms happily, one of them waking Alec against the chest repeatedly, not that he seemed to mind at all. Looking at him, you would have thought that he didn’t even feel a thing. Maybe he didn’t. Max’s fists were so small that Aline couldn’t imagine they made much of an impact, especially when you were used to much worse injuries. She swallowed, suddenly even more aware of the fact that this tiny person was going to be her and Helen’s responsibility.

“Hello,” Helen said, taking over the greetings as Aline struggled just to keep the smile on her face. “Look at you,” she said to Max in her best baby voice, which Aline would have found adorable if she weren’t petrified.

Her eyes grew wide as Alec slid Max into Helen’s arms. It was actually happening. They really would be left alone with him for the evening. Aline’s heart began to race faster than when she was face-to-face with a Shax demon.

Magnus handed Max’s bag out to her with a smile, and she took it without fully processing what was happening. It was black with blueberries embroidered into the fabric. She stared down at it as if she didn’t know what it was. It was heavy as she slugged it over her shoulder. She could only begin to imagine what was inside: diapers, bottles, toys. She wondered if she’d even recognize everything inside when she looked.

“Everything you need should be in there,” Magnus said, still smiling as if he didn’t notice Aline’s unease. But she knew he must have. “We packed twice the amount of diapers that we think he’ll need, so I really doubt you’ll run out of anything.”

“But if you do, just call us,” Alec finished. “Even if it’s just a question about something.”

“Of course,” Helen answered for the both of us. “I really don’t think there will be a problem, but if there is, we’ll let you know right away.”

A few more assurances were exchanged before Magnus and Alec were back out the door, Helen waving Max’s little hand at them as they left. The baby was still babbling in her arms, not concerned that his fathers had left him behind. He was a mild mannered baby all things considered. Aline tried to let that comfort her as she remained rooted in the same spot with Max’s diaper bag over her shoulder. It had been a struggle to even get a ‘goodbye’ out to Magnus and Alec when they left.

Helen gripped her shoulder.

“Aline, calm down. He’s not even remotely upset yet.”

“Yet,” Aline repeated dryly.

Helen rolled her eyes, but she was smiling as she carried Max down the hall and into the living room. Aline followed her with the bag and sat it on the coffee table. She unzipped it to find a plethora of baby supplies, and she breathed easier with the knowledge that she recognized just about everything in the bag. She pulled out a toy and held it out to Max, who took it with a cheerful cry and stuffed it into his mouth.

“Get that blanket and spread it on the floor,” Helen said. “We can set him down and let him play for now.”

Aline did as instructed, even placing down the other toys his dads had brought along, and watched as Helen sat the baby down. She half-expected Max to start crying the second he was out of someone’s arms, but he didn’t seem to mind. Helen knelt beside him, and he played with his toys happily, almost as if he’d entered his own little world with them.

Tension left Aline’s body, and she sunk onto the couch.

“Don’t relax too much,” Helen said, throwing a smirk over her shoulder. “We’re only five minutes into the evening. He will cry, Aline. The goal is to keep a level head when he does.”

Aline sighed. “I know that, but I already told you that I can’t promise anything.”

Helen laughed. “And I told you that, if you can fight demons, then you can handle a baby for a few hours. Remember, it’s okay if you don’t know why he’s crying the second he starts crying. We’ll figure out what’s up together, okay?”

Aline nodded. She sure hoped she could manage that.

Max babbled excitedly as Aline zoomed the spoon towards his mouth like one of those mundane airplanes. Helen had warned her that he may not accept the food easily. Apparently, Tavvy had refused to eat mashed carrots when he was Max’s age, but Max accepted them with no problem, smiling happily as he chowed down and smeared the bright orange mush all over his face.

For the first five or so spoonfuls, Aline had felt proud. Max was hardly even making a mess, and she was confident they’d make it through the whole meal without any major mishaps.

The feeling of success was premature. A few minutes in, Max started trying to grab the spoon from her hand. Aline’s reflexes were quick. She swiped the spoon away before he could get hold of it, but the whine he let out at the rebuff set off alarm bells in Aline’s mind. She knew it was a bad sign.

Sure enough, the next time she raised the spoon to Max’s lips, he tried to get the spoon again, but this time, he knew better than to just reach with his hands. Blue spars erupted from his hands, and Aline felt a supernatural tug on the spoon. She tightened her grip, determined not to let go, but Max kept tugging. Alec had to have a method for dealing with moments like these, but Aline had no idea what that method was. In the magical tug-of-war, the mashed carrots went flying and landed on the other side of the kitchen floor with a splat. Max laughed in delight and clapped his hands, no longer trying to grab the spoon that was still in Aline’s hand.

Helen chose that moment to enter from the other room, where she’d been picking up the toys Max had been playing with earlier.

“Oh,” she said, looking down at the splatter of carrot with a smirk. “Is someone having too much fun with his dinner?”

Aline rolled her eyes and grumbled. She knew that babies made messes, yet she couldn’t help but be a little annoyed to have her perceived success yanked away from her. Still, when the babbling Max looked at her happily, she managed a smile. She pushed the spoon back towards his mouth, and he accepted it easily, apparently content to eat this particular spoonful instead of making a mess.

Sensing Aline’s annoyance, Helen came up behind her and squeezed her shoulders.

“If that’s the only mess he’s made so far, then you’re doing a good job,” she said encouragingly.

Aline nodded but didn’t verbally respond as she tried to get Max to take another bite. Once again, he was more interested in grabbing the spoon than eating. Feeling self-conscious in Helen’s presence, Aline didn’t react quickly enough, and another splatter of carrot went flying in the opposite direction of the last one. Aline sighed as Max laughed. Helen gave her shoulders another squeeze, massaging them for a moment.

“I’ll clean it up,” she said, doing just that as Aline continued feeding Max.

It was silent as they both completed their jobs, Helen humming to herself while Aline did her best to stay calm. She wasn’t mad at Max; she was frustrated with herself. Surely, there was a secret to getting more food in his mouth than on the floor that she wasn’t aware of. Perhaps Magnus was able to deter Max from his mischief with magic, but Alec must have had a different strategy. Helen probably knew it too. Whatever it was, Aline couldn’t figure it out.

By the end of the meal, Aline wasn’t sure how much of the food Max had eaten instead of played with, but Helen swore it was enough. She took the baby, who was still babbling happily, to wash the slowly trying food off his face and hands. Aline leaned back in the chair, searching for the energy needed to clean up the high chair.

She couldn’t believe how much energy one dinner had taken out of her when she hunted demons every night. It shouldn’t have been possible. She ran a hand over her brow, more sure than ever that she wasn’t cut out for kids no matter how much she wanted them.

Helen found her in that position a few minutes later with a much cleaner Max in her arms. She sat down in the chair next to Aline and reached out to take her hand. Aline continued to stare at the mess on the high chair.

“Don’t be hard on yourself,” Helen said. “It was your first dinner. You didn’t do a bad job, Aline.”

“How do I feel so tired?” Aline asked instead of responding to what Helen had actually said. “It shouldn’t be possible.”

Helen shrugged. “Like I said, it was your first time. Babies are a lot of work. That doesn’t mean you were bad, Aline. It just means you’re new at it. Even parents need a break sometimes.”

Aline didn’t respond. She wanted to believe Helen. She was even sure that Helen was convinced of what she was saying, but she just couldn’t believe it herself. Surely some kind of maternal instincts should have kicked in, but they hadn’t. There was something about taking care of kids that just didn’t click with her; she was sure of it.

She rose to grab a dish rag and wet it in the sink, setting to work cleaning the high chair without looking at Helen. Max was being much quieter than he had been during the meal, watching Aline work from Helen’s arms. Aline tried not to look at him too much as she worked.

Aline let Helen take the lead when it came to putting Max to bed. She hovered, prepared to step in and assist whenever needed, but she didn’t trust herself nearly well enough to do any of the most important tasks.

Max had sniffled a little once he realized he was being put down in the bassinet that had once been Tavvy’s, but Helen had quieted him with an ease that had left Aline in awe. By the time they were back in the living room, snuggling on the couch, Aline felt as if she were in a daze. The struggle she’d been expecting to happen before bedtime hadn’t come, but that didn’t make her feel at ease.

“You’re amazing,” she told Helen, letting her head fall to her wife’s shoulder. “I wish I could have helped more. I feel so useless.”

“Stop that,” Helen scolded, moving her shoulder to jostle Aline. “You fed him dinner, did you not? And you were a help putting him to bed even if you think you weren’t. Trust me. If that’s you being useless, then I know some actual parents who could learn a thing or two.”

Aline sighed, not believing Helen in the slightest. Anyone would have seen that Helen had done far more work than she had.

Just as she was about to respond, a high pitched squeal echoed through the house. It wasn’t one of terror, but it was loud enough that Helen and Aline both shot to their feet. Aline took off for the bedroom that they’d tucked Max away in before she could think about what she was doing. She reached the room before Helen, and her heart lurched into her throat when she saw that the bassinet was empty.

She whipped her head back and forth but didn’t spot him until Helen gasped, “Look up!”

Max’s back was pressed to the ceiling as if he’d been plastered to it. He laughed happily when they spotted him, clapping his hands together without a care in the world. If he realized he was hovering above the room, it didn’t bother him. Aline’s stomach dropped as she rushed forward to stand beneath him. At that moment, she may not have known how to get him down, but she wasn’t going to let him plummet to the floor.

“What do we do!?” Helen shouted, panicked for the first time since Max had arrived. “Neither of us can use magic, and he probably doesn’t know how to get himself down. Even if he did, he can’t understand what we tell him to do, and he could accidentally send himself in a freefall.”

Aline looked away from the baby long enough to zero in on the dresser that sat against the wall. It was a little far from the bassinet that Max was still floating over. If she stood on top, she wouldn’t be able to reach the baby.

“Come here and stand underneath him,” Aline said, using the same voice that she used when leading a team. “If he falls, you’ll have to catch him.”

Helen did as she asked, her arms out with a purpose despite no sign that Max was budging.

“What are you doing?” she asked Aline as she the other woman approached the dresser.

“Getting Max,” Aline said shortly as she took hold of one end of the dresser and tugged.

It wasn’t as easy as it would have been with someone at the other end helping her, but she could at least maneuver half the dresser closer to the bassinet. She climbed on top of it and found that the tips of her fingers could just about brush the ceiling. Max babbled happily when he saw that she was closer to him. His back was still pressed against the ceiling, and he didn’t show any signs of moving, but she knew better than to rely on that.

Helen still hovered beneath him, not moving an inch. The dresser was still a bit too far away for Aline to snatch Max out of the air easily. She moved carefully to the edge, her feet partially dangling off the side. It would be hard to reach for Max and also keep her balance. There was a chance that Helen would be catching her instead of the baby, but she’d have to risk it.

She reached for Max, and in what could only be a twist of fate, Max reached eagerly for her in response. He moved, and for a second, her heart dropped with the fear that he was about to fall. Instead, he reached his tiny blue fist out, and it was enough for Aline to grab onto him.

She tugged. It was rougher than she would have dared be with him in any other circumstance, but she didn’t know what other choice she had. As soon as he was close enough, she clutched him to her chest with one arm and used the other to stay balanced as she wobbled from side-to-side. Helen latched onto her legs, doing what she could to keep Aline standing. After a tense second, they both realized that Aline and the baby were stable, and Helen laughed, hitting Aline’s foot in her excitement.

Aline allowed herself a smile as she crouched down and handed the baby to Helen before climbing off the dresser herself. The rush of adrenaline that had pushed her to act fled, and she collapsed back against the dresser for support as her head spun. She watched in bafflement as Max stared between the two of them with wide eyes, not showing much of a reaction to what he’d just put them through.

Helen surged forward and captured Aline’s lips in a kiss. Aline gasped, her mind struggling to process what had happened, let alone a kiss.

“That was incredible!” Helen exclaimed loudly. “I was so worried that we wouldn’t be able to get him down, but you climbed onto that dresser like you’d already prepared for him to fly into the air like that. Amazing!”

Aline shrugged. It didn’t feel as impressive to her as it was to Helen. She’d only done the first thing she could think of when she’d seen Max hovering above them. It easily could have been Helen who’d thought of it first.

“You could’ve done it,” she said in a weak voice.

Helen raised an eyebrow. Max let out a squeal in her arms, and Helen rocked him back and forth, starting the process of getting him back to sleep.

“But I didn’t,” she said in a voice that was barely more than a whisper. “All I did was panic at the door. I might still be there if you hadn’t acted.”

Aline knew that wasn’t true. Helen would have gotten herself together eventually, and if Max had fallen, there was no way Helen would have stood there and done nothing. But she was right in a sense. Aline had been the first to think of a way to get him down, and she’d followed through on that plan without thinking. She bit her lip to hold back her smile, but it was useless. Helen smiled at her, and Aline couldn’t disguise it any longer.

“See,” Helen said, tilting her head to the side. “You wouldn’t be as bad at parenting as you think.”

Max may have been one of the most adorable babies she’d ever met, but Aline breathed a sigh of relief when Alec and Magnus knocked on the front door not even an hour after the ceiling incident.

Helen led Magnus straight to the room where Max was sleeping. There hadn’t been any more magical incidents since the first. Aline hovered in the hallway with Alec, internally debating how many of the night’s events she should share with him. She didn’t want to keep anything a secret, but she also wasn’t sure how to broach the most dramatic of the night’s events.

“Did everything go well?” Alec asked with a slightly nervous smile as if he was expecting to hear the worse.

Aline wanted to ask him where those nerves had been when he was assuring her that everything would be fine, but she didn’t.

“He’s healthy, I think,” she said slowly. “But there was an...incident after we put him to bed.”

Alec groaned, his whole body crumpling.

“Please tell me he didn’t levitate himself again.”

“Again!?” Aline snapped, crossing her arms against her chest. “You’re telling me that he’s done that before, and you didn’t warn us?”

Alec scrunched his shoulders up towards his ears and gave her a sheepish smile.

“It must have slipped our minds. It’s not like he does it every night. It’s only been a few times, and last time it happened was a few months ago. I genuinely didn’t think about it.”

Aline sighed, the tension she’d felt over revealing the truth leaving her.

“Yeah, well, he’s fine, so I guess it’s all in the past now,” she said.

Alec narrowed his gaze.

“How did you get him down? The other times it’s happened, Magnus has had to use magic.”

So, Aline quickly told him the story of the dresser, earning a laugh and a pat on the back.

“For whatever it’s worth,” he said just as Helen and Magnus appeared at the other end of the hall, “I agree with Helen.”

[greatfay]

since ur answering asks and shit can u explain what u meant by generational differences in communication

Damn it’s like 2015 tumblr when my inbox used to be WET. So if you’re talking about the controversial opinions post, YES, like I totally understand where people are coming from when they say that generational divides aren’t real (because they aren’t, they’re arbitrary) and distract us from real problems and yes they paint past generations as collectively bigoted when Civil Rights protestors in the 60s (who are in their 70s and 80s now) are mirrors to BLM protestors today, who could be of any age, but the most vocal and famous (at least online, especially irt to the founders, like Patrisse Cullors who is 37.

But how we communicate is sooooo different. I really point to the Internet and Social Media as a major influence in how younger millennials (more Tom Hollands and less Seth Rogans—see even there, I feel like there are two different types of Millennials) and Gen Zrs/Zoomers and even Generation Alpha behave and communicate. We live in a world where we grew up either knowing right out the gate or discovering the hard way that what we say and do has permanence, the kind of permanence that prior generations have never experienced until today. The dumb things kids have been saying since forever can now follow them... forever. We have an inherent understanding of how online spaces work. Compare that to, idk, let’s say you posted on your Facebook (for the first time in 18 months) “All these big and bad grown ass Senators going after actual child Greta Gerwig lol ok, you’re so brave for attacking a CHILD over climate change” and then your aunt, who’s turning “forty-fifteen” in May replies to your post with “So happy to see my passionate niece! Much love from us, hope you’re doing well. Paul is doing great, waiting on his screening results. Tell your mom I said we miss her, we need to get together, we forgive her for last Christmas.”

Like... ok there’s a lot going on there, but your hypothetical aunt is oversharing on a publicly accessible post. And even with the most strict of privacy settings, she’s oversharing where your other Facebook friends (which may include classmates, coworkers, etc.) can see. But she’s saying things that would only be appropriate in a 1-on-1 conversation. This Aunt doesn’t have an understanding of such boundaries, she’s not as technologically literate and hasn’t grown up in a world of Virtual Space, she still gets most of her news from TV, she trusts what a reporter on Channel 4 will read off a script more than what actual video footage of an incident might reveal on Twitter, and she has no clue that she’s been sharing her location data with every post she makes.

There’s such a huge difference. I think it even affects how we experience and express stress and frustration. I think growing up partially in online spaces has made me more accustomed to conflict and consequence-free arguing than someone who never had to worry about that. I’ve been exposed so much to harassment and bullying, triangulating and echo chambers in forums and threads, and vastly opposing point of views at such an early age that it’s had an effect on how I see the world. Compare this to a customer I helped two weeks ago who was looking for a specific type of supplement for children. I found it for her, I handed her exactly what she was looking for, even though her description of the product actually matched several different products; to make sure I’d done my job thoroughly and that she leaves happy and satisfied and doesn’t bother me again, I then show her more products that match her description so that she knows she has options. And she proceeds to freak out, saying “NO, NO, I’M LOOKING FOR [X] AND IT HAS TO BE [XYZ]” and when I say freak out, she looked stressed and PANICKED. And being a retail employee wears you down bit by bit, and add COVID on top of it and little shit like this makes you snap, sometimes. So I have to cut her off like “Why are you screaming and freaking out, jfc you’re holding what you said you wanted. It’s in your hands. I gave you what you wanted, I’m just showing you more things.”

That customer is not an exception, she’s not a unique case. She’s representative of a frightening percentage of her generation, the kids who watched Grease and The Breakfast Club and Ghost in theaters when they were originally released. This is how they communicate and process information. She could not, for some reason, register that her need had been fulfilled, and defaulted to an extreme emotional response when given new and different information.

I’ve yet to deal with someone younger than 35 act the same way, the exceptions being the kids of very wealthy people at my new job who reek of privilege I gag when they walk in—but even they are like *shrugs* “ok whatever” and understanding when there’s something I can’t do for them.

Me: “sorry, we are totally out of that one in your size, but I can order it for you, it’s 2-3 day shipping at no cost to you and we ship it straight to your house”

A rich, white, attractive 22-year-old who’s had access to organic food, a rigorous dermatologist, and financial security since she was born: “mmm... sure, I’ll order it”

A 47-year-old of any socioeconomic background, of any race, in the same situation: “AHHHHHHHHHHH”

I just think it’s crazy how three generations of kids and young adults raised in a world where everything moves so much faster, where knowledge and entertainment and communication can be gathered so much faster, are often so much more polite and patient and understanding. Yesterday I told an older man (mid-50s) whose native tongue is the same as mine, as clearly and succinct as possible, that what he’s looking for is “in aisle 4.” He proceeded to repeat back, “Aisle 7?” four time before I dropped everything to show him what he needed in aisle 4, despite his insistence that he didn’t need me to walk him there. 4 and 7 sound nothing alike in English. There’s just something going on up there 🧠 that’s different.

Oh, other generational divides!!! We have different approaches to labor and working. Totally different! I’m a “young” millennial where I’m almost Gen Z, and I’ve noticed an awful trend among my demographic where people actually brag about working 90 hour work weeks. Or brag about how they skip breaks and live on-call to get the job done for “the hustle” like this “hustle, become a millionaire by 30″ culture that’s dominated these kids, idk where tf that came from. Like why are you proud of being a wage slave, getting taken advantage of by your millionaire/billionaire overlords. Compare this to my mother’s generation (she’s a borderline Genius X’er, she and her best friend were a year too young to watch Grease when it came out and had a random older woman buy tickets for her; she went to Prince concerts, took photos of him, then sold the photos on buttons at school, that’s her culture and teenage experience), where she’s insistent on her rights and entitlements as an employee, and these things she instilled me: “whatchu mean they didn’t schedule a break for you and you’re working 12 hrs today? oh no, you’re off, don’t answer your phone cuz you are NOT available!” There are Gen X’ers who entered the workforce at a time that America was drifting toward this corporate world, with more strictly defined regulations, roles, and understandings of labor rights (and also, let’s talk about how the 80s there was so much more attention on workplace harassment, misogyny and gender divides in wage gaps, etc. etc... not that much has changed, but at least it was talked about!). There are young people today who are taken advantage of because they aren’t as informed or don’t feel as secure and valuable enough to claim what belongs to them.

At the same time, those generations (Gen X and older) have a different viewpoint of hierarchies in the workplace and respect irt our direct supervisors. That’s how you get this blurring of boundaries between Work Life and one’s Personal Life that leads to common tropes in media written by their generations, where oh no! I’m having my boss over for dinner and the roast beef is still defrosting :O is such a “relatable thing” for them... meanwhile us younger generations are like I don’t even like that you know where I live, and if I see your 2017 Honda Civic pass my place one day, we’re going to have a problem. I think older generations have a different relationship with the word “Respect” than we do. Like, my grandma, who’s turning 87 (?) this year, and the other seniors in my area, they have a different concept of honor and an expectation of professional boundaries that I, and my mom and her generation, just don’t see (so then there’s something in common with Gen X’ers and the rest of us.) My dad grew up in a world where talking and acting like George Bailey and knocking on someone’s door with a big smile could get you a job, a job that could pay for college and rent no problem. My mom grew up in a world that demanded more prestige, where cover letters and references could get you into some cushy jobs if you’re persistent and ballsy enough. And I grew up in a world where potential employers literally don’t see your face when you apply unless they lurk on any social media profiles you have publicly available and they hold all the cards, and you need all those CVs and reference letters just to make minimum wage... so I feel like I am powerless in the face of such employers.

[sanderssidesfanfiction]

If There’s a Place I Could Be - Chapter Twenty Seven

If There’s a Place I Could Be Tag

July 6th, 1993

Emile tilted his head to the side as he read his book and he hummed in thought. “Mom?” he asked, looking up from his book to his mother, who was sitting across from him in the living room, watching some show or another on TV.

“If you’re going to ask for a puppy again, Emile, you know my answer,” she said with a smile.

“No, it’s not that. What’s a therapist?” he asked.

“It’s someone who helps people when they have mental illnesses,” his mom said. “So when some people get depressed or really anxious and they can’t stop on their own, they see a therapist, who can teach them how to feel better.”

“So...they help people?” Emile asked with a frown. “In this book the character doesn’t want to see a therapist.”

“Some people don’t like therapists, but they’re taught to help people,” his mom said.

“Oh.” Then, “Can I be a therapist? I want to help people!”

His mom smiled. “Emile, that sounds exactly like something you’d love to do.”

  April 26th, 2001

Emile was whistling as he walked into the apartment complex, tired from classes and work but relieved that the day was over and he could relax with Remy. He made his way to the stairwell, but halfway there realized that something had been left on the floor. Emile tutted. If Aubrey had gotten lazy with the garbage again...

The unidentified lump shuddered and sobbed, and Emile’s blood ran cold. He knew that voice anywhere. “Remy?!” he asked, rushing over.

Remy’s face was streaked with tears, red and blotchy. His hands were shaking as he brought them up to shield himself from Emile, flinching. His eyes looked hazy, like he wasn’t entirely in the present, and Emile’s mind immediately supplied dissociation or flashback, likely caused by an unknown trigger. Get him upstairs and safe. “Hey, Rem, it’s me. It’s Emile,” Emile said, crouching down and gently grabbing one of Remy’s hands. “It’s okay, I’m gonna get you upstairs, all right?”

“Is she gone?” Remy mumbled, looking around. “She can’t discover that I live here, Emile. She can’t know where I sleep. Where I relax. Where I love. Who I love.”

“Remy, we can talk about all that when we get you upstairs, okay?” Emile asked. “Can you stand?”

Remy successfully pushed himself into a sitting position, but the second he moved a leg to get into a position to stand up, he was shaking so violently he collapsed again. His breathing was picking up and Emile’s brain was going into overdrive again. Panic attack. Possible paranoia, or phobia. Get him upstairs, work on reassurance. “Hey, Remy, it’s okay. I can help you, okay? We’ll get upstairs and we can get you better.”

“She can’t know, Emile. She can’t know,” Remy breathed, as Emile helped him stand.

“She won’t know, Rem, let’s just get you upstairs,” Emile said, leading Remy up the stairs and into their apartment. Remy was listing to the side as Emile closed the door and Emile guided the both of them to the floor, pulling Remy on his lap. Remy was still shaking, setting off all sorts of alarms in Emile’s head.

“Is she gone?” Remy mumbled again. “Where did she go? She was...she was chasing me...”

“Who is she, Rem?” Emile asked.

Remy’s breathing picked up as he stammered out “M-M-M-Mo-o-om. M-Moth-ther. My mother.”

If Emile’s blood ran cold before, it positively turned to ice now. “Remy, can you tell me what happened?” he asked.

Remy looked around fearfully, like his mother would come crawling out of the woodwork at any moment. “She found me. I don’t know how she found me, but she found me. Came to my shift today. Ordered a coffee and waited until I was off my shift to ask me what I was doing. She found out I had dropped out from some kid with a big mouth at college. And she grabbed my arm, and refused to let go for a bit, and...and she kept talking, and I kept responding, and she said...she said she was taking me back home, Emile. She said she was going to take me back home, and I was gonna explain to Dad what I did, and they were going to figure out what to do with me, and let’s be real, they’d probably force me to join the military because if I’m not going to college and not getting a real job that way, then obviously the next logical step is to ship me off to who-knows-where and pray I don’t get blown up, because yeah, that makes total sense, especially if you kid was suicidal going to college and was finally happy when he stopped trying to impress others and just wanted to be himself!” Remy’s breath was heaving in his chest. “So I ran. I ran and ran so she wouldn’t know where I live and she couldn’t catch me. She can’t know where I live, Emile, she’s gonna ship me off and away and I’ll never see you again.”

Emile kissed the crown of Remy’s head and said, “That’s not going to happen, Rem. I didn’t see any angry women stalking around nearby shouting your name. You must have lost her at some point. You’re safe.”

“I’m never safe,” Remy whispered, starting to cry. “I’m never safe, Emile, and I’m scared. I know I shouldn’t be but I’m so, so scared.”

“Hey, you’re absolutely allowed to be scared, that’s a scary thing,” Emile said, brushing some of Remy’s sweat-slicked hair off his forehead. “Come on, I can get you in your bed and you can just lay low for a bit until you feel better, sound good?”

Remy nodded and Emile stood, and carefully picked Remy up, staggering over to Remy’s bed and laying him down, taking off his shoes. Remy was asleep in seconds. Of course, immediately after there was a harsh pounding on their front door, and a rather unpleasant voice hollered, “Remington, I know you’re in there!”

Emile twitched as Remy’s forehead creased. “Ssh, it’s okay, Rem, I’ve got this,” he murmured into Remy’s ear. He stood, closed Remy’s bedroom door, and then opened the front one with his best fake smile. “I’m sorry, ma’am, can I help you?”

“Where’s my son?” the woman asked with narrowed eyes.

“I’m sorry?” Emile asked.

“My son. Remington. Remy. Whatever he’s calling himself these days,” the woman huffed.

Emile twitched again, making sure his fake smile was still in place. “You must have the wrong apartment number, ma’am, because the only people here are me and my girlfriend, Ramona.”

Remy’s mother narrowed her eyes at him. “I know you from somewhere...” she said.

“Oh! Well, I am one of Remy’s friends from college,” Emile said brightly. “We were talking about moving in together at one point to split rent, but that was before I got with my girlfriend. He and I hang out a lot, but I don’t really know where he lives nowadays. Sorry.”

“So he did drop out of college?” Remy’s mother snarled.

“I guess so!” Emile said, pretending to look shocked. “Didn’t you know? He moved off campus because he thought it might be cheaper. He mentioned that he didn’t like going to school and he picked up a second job, so I guess he dropped out in order to make ends meet, but I don’t know, ma’am. You’d have to take that up with him.”

“I was trying to,” she hissed, “Before he ran away in the middle of our conversation! And the people in this apartment building said that he lives here!”

“Well, gee, ma’am! Remy sure does visit a lot but he doesn’t live here!” Emile laughed. “His roommate, whoever they are, doesn’t keep things clean at their place, apparently, and he never wants me to come over to his, so whenever we hang out it’s here. Ramona jokes that we might want to make the guest room his room, but he doesn’t live here, ma’am. I’m sorry if anyone mislead you.”

Remy’s mother huffed. “Whenever you see him next, tell him I expect him to call. Maybe if he behaves I’ll give him Tobias’ new phone number.”

It took all of Emile’s strength to not strangle her then and there, but he just smiled and said, “I’ll try to pass the message along, ma’am.”

She looked him up and down. “What’s your name, young man?”

“Emile, ma’am. Emile Thomas,” he said.

She snorted. “Your parents must have a sense of humor, with a girly name like that.”

Emile twitched again, and he was really starting to hate this woman more than he had ever thought it was possible to hate someone before. “Is there any reason you were asking, ma’am?”

“I was just curious. Remington never talks about his friends much when he calls,” Remy’s mother said.

“Funny, he never talks much about his family, when he hangs out with me!” Emile chirped. “Anyway, my girlfriend Ramona is sick, and I’ve been trying to make her feel better. So if you don’t mind, I’ll be going back to helping her. Best of luck finding Remy!”

He closed the door without another word and growled. He hated that woman before, but he positively loathed her now. He waited by the door until he heard the slam of the complex’s door to the stairs at the end of the hallway, and then he went back into Remy’s room to check on him. Thankfully, Remy seemed to have slept through that whole ordeal. When he walked closer to Remy, though, he realized that wasn’t the case. “I’m glad you didn’t kill her,” he mumbled, blinking blearily. “But Ramona? Really?”

“Gimme a break, I had to tell her something!” Emile defended. “And I came pretty close to having to hide a body.”

“I’m glad you didn’t,” Remy repeated, sighing into his pillows. “I want to sleep, but I can’t. Not if she knows where I live.”

“Rem, I’m pretty sure I convinced her you don’t live here, you’re safe,” Emile assured.

“You say that now,” Remy said. “But you know what’s going to happen? Provided she can get away with it, she’ll camp out in front of the complex and see if I enter or leave at any point, just so she can talk to me about my behavior, and possibly chew me out a little more for dropping out of college.”

“Well, I won’t let her get away with that,” Emile said. “If you see her car, you let me know, and I can call the cops. Because stalking you is unacceptable behavior.”

Remy made a pained noise. “She has Toby’s number. His new number, Emile.”

“Yeah,” Emile agreed. “But is knowing his number worth more than your mental health?”

“You’re gonna say no, but...but he’s my brother, Emile. I love him,” Remy said.

“And he loves you too,” Emile said. “You know what that means? He would not want you dealing with your mother shipping you off halfway around the world just to get his number.”

“How do you know that?” Remy asked, turning to face Emile and tilting his chin up in challenge.

Emile stared down Remy’s scowl. “Because I love you. And I would never want you to go into danger just so you could talk to me. You know what would happen? Provided we both made it out alive, I would chew you out for being stupid enough to endanger yourself just to get to talk to me. And I don’t doubt Toby would do the same.”

The pout Emile got in return for that meant that he knew he was right, and Remy was desperate, and lonely. Emile sat down on Remy’s bed and asked, “Do you want to cuddle for a bit?”

“No,” Remy mumbled. “It won’t make me feel better about Toby.”

“But could it make you feel better in general?” Emile pressed.

Remy shrugged. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But I don’t really think so.”

“Well, it can’t hurt to try, right?” Emile asked.

Remy’s eyes were welling up with tears and Emile tutted. “Oh, it’s okay, Rem, c’mere.”

Without another word, Remy crawled into Emile’s lap and cried. Emile just hugged Remy tight, murmuring softly to him. That it was all right, that he was all right, that everything would work out and at the end of the day and they both would be okay, and safe, and so long as they were safe they could work on being happy another day. Emile desperately wanted Remy to feel better, but he knew that was going to take a lot of work yet. Especially if his mother insisted on bothering them both for a while longer.

Emile swayed from side to side ever-so-slightly as he could feel Remy’s tears tapering off. He knew that naps were generally not beneficial to someone’s sleep schedule, but if anyone deserved a nap today, then it was Remy. He kissed Remy’s forehead and continued to sway back and forth. “I miss him,” Remy mumbled into Emile’s chest.

“I know you do,” Emile murmured back. “But right now, your main focus should be you, and getting you better.”

Remy nodded slowly, eyes drifting shut. Carefully, Emile laid both of them down on Remy’s bed, and he cuddled Remy close. Today had shaken both of them, and they would definitely need some time to recover. But it would be okay. They would always have each others’ backs, no matter what.