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#Yes I am looking for children’s encyclopaedias to try reading.
queenofallwitches · 3 years
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an update and primer:
so the last winter was weird. I had a complete breakdown, went into psychiatric hospital for 40 days in total. two seperate times.
learnt a heap of new things, met a tonne of cool people and had amazing conversations and few fights but overcome my own demons by that.
brain speaking-I have a scarred brain stem and neurological disorder is not a mental diagnosis, but a neurological disorder, proven by MRI scan, ADHD.
also damage to my basal ganglia, and prefrontal cortex.
neurological diagnosis means ADHD is not a "mental" health issue, as some believe, rather a neurodevelopment disorder caused by structural differences in the ADHD brain.
other neurodevelopment disorders include: Tourettes, Autism, Cerebal Palsy, Dyslexia and other Motor and Intellectual Disabilities. (Which recieve, in my view, a lot of insight, media information and stigma reduction by the advocacy networks surrounding these types of disability).
Over the last few years Autism has been over everything, I've seen mainstream media cover Tourettes and yet ADHD is still HUGELY misunderstood, misconceived and misrepresented in media, be in from the angle of documentaries, personal insight of a "typical" case, films, tv, and other media.
one of the first things my dr told me was "in females it rarely presents as hyperactive red-cordial OD child"
which is what my mother BELIEVES, that is because I have an adopted cousin with the ADHD dx who was that growing up, but the representation I'm told is also divergent for women with a higher IQ score than the average IQ. I come in around 142 and tested 123 at age 3 when I was unable to focus, pay attention and had severe trauma. I tested 142 in grade 8.
I'll share my experience as a female who is intellectually gifted, with higher IQ than average, and an adhd brain:
I've been told gifted and talented "genius" children are harder to diagnose because the symptoms present differently, we hide it better (camouflage) and our focusing can be "faked" by mediocre efforts of academic success.. this is true, I would do the assignment the Sunday night hours deadline, last minute, or have my parents half do it for me, plagiarise it (fuck I've killed my whole academic career now) copied but changed my words
from old 1970s encyclopaedias I KNEW they couldn't cross reference (I went through 15 years of school never studying doing homework or assignments and still had top grades).
I literally did not listen, and spent my classes planning the end of the world survival strategies with my GT friend who, basically helped me with my calculus and hard fucking maths, which was the ONLY 50 minutes of the day I put attention into my work.
now I'm going to be heading back to full-time study in the coming months, I get anxious as the pressure of a Bachelor level degree, and the pressure it takes me to perform, is enough to break me down. I've been advised it might be wise to start light (like a basic vet style diploma) and then build up, which is logical, but I keep thinking I'm meant to be doing my thesis by now. which is the kind of pressure one gets as a kid who is told repeatedly, "your intelligence is exceedingly the average and you can do ANYTHING you want"
I wanted to be an astronaut, a storm chaser, and an architect, a town planner and then a journalist. I always held to being a "FBI agent" or spy (I wonder why). so when I found psychology is really a blend of all these things, I kinda found a niche in a psych and social science double degree. but I'm thinking my academic career is LIFELONG, and due to the fact I also want to work in my field alongside my many written thesis coming, I'll be in academics for a long time. I may fail a few things, which I have to come to terms with. I do not fail easily, or readily, but I'm a perfectionist type-a academic who will put my whole life on the line to achieve "merit". I get exams, I get assessments, I read journals super-easy, I talk the talk and walk the walk so well psychologists who are at masters level compliment me on my "knowledge".
when it comes to mental health and trauma, I will always have the personal attachment, called lived experience, which will make failure and burnout, 100 percent realistic. I have to boundary up, bootstraps on, and prepare that yes, my personal "bias" will probably be entwined in this.
which is why I'm looking at the social science for the statistics and thesis writing side of things, and the counselling for the trained therapist side. either way, the degree of counselling requires so much self-insight, and then the social-science will back me away from personifying it. the other choice is criminology, which leads to forensic psychology, which is eternally fascinating. my main concern is the pro-pedophile content Ill be up against, which will look at the anatomy of a shoplifter akin to the devil, and leave the pedophile in the DSM-5 dx "paraphilia" box.
I'm not joining or jumping to anything.
either way I've got 2 year of credit, a heap of pathways and a lot of "academic momentum" from all my life being aimed to be "academic powerhouse". I went through my files and found a lot of awards I'd won in my high school, and top place in the competitions we would be entering in. I remember feeling so sad if I had a "credit" vs a distinction or high distinction, only to see now, a credit in university maths in year 9 is a skillset I don't have anymore so, good on me. or a credit in English, or Science at that age was pretty impressive, considering these tests were random and not studied for.
just a general skills assessment only the top 30 kids in the year were to take on a year by year basis and put out to vet from the top universities and taken by other kids in the same grade around the state.
it puts so much focus on my intelligence, because it's primed to be that way, I know that is true. I know I feel good being academically successful and it gives me a feeling of "achievement" but is it really for me?
I also found 2 letters from my local politicians offering me job placement, work experience and I was 1/4 kids in my 10th grade graduation tom get the letter, and due to my behaviour I pissed ALL the idiots who bullied me off. I was "too pretty to be a nerd" "too smart to be pOpUlAr".
so I made a group of misfits, who are all highly intelligent, creative and my group had the ONLY gay male in the school AND THIS IS BEFORE YOU FUCKING RETARDS MADE IT "COOL". he was bullied badly, so fuck you, you fucks claim "liberalism" but I bet you were the type of idiot who bullied guys like him in high school while you pretended to like my chemical romance and fake cut yourselves. I hate you all, forever.
my grade was full of idiots who were fake emo, who left the scene the moment the scene changed to dub-step and club music. I was there, watching you all, like sonny Moore, went from FFTL to that dubstep skrillex shit he started in 2009.
I dated you, hooked up with you and I went to your gigs. I know who was real and who was fake. I met some of you years later and realised the more emotive ones were the less "alternative appearing".
I can say 1/10000 emo guys from the 00s were genuinely Into the music and scene for the right reasons based on my dating history and this can and will be analysed statistically using SPSS one day to prove a lot. I've had too many relationships from each sub-culture and I have had 4-11 males at a time per public "output" of my energy pursue me over life.
I'm not being cocky when I say I have a long line of "suitors" and its banked back about 50 men. it's been a thing I've avoided as it seems to grow based on my body shape, attitude, appearance, so I am currently out of touch with dating scenes, no interest to try that ANYWAY, given the fact that I have had so many LONG TERM relationships ANYWAY. I can't see another one going well, and at this case, I'm living with an ex but we never went on conventional and now our families label this 3 things: "asexual", "polyamorous" and "open relationship". I'm also "bisexual" but this all to humans outside, looks ridiculous on paper. (wild orgies and lots of swinging or some stupid sex magick probably is what J brother literally thinks we do).
bc humans are intrinsically designed to need to label things they don't understand. we share a lease, not a relationship, and fucking polyamorous, I WISH. there are no girl-girl-guy 3 some, or orgies, or sex magic parties.
this has changed the attitude and perception of this "relation' which Is non-romantic, non-sexual. he can date and likely, will, as can I , and I likely won't date.
I would say 14/15 have had ADHD, or other mental illness and or trauma. which means to me, nothing at all.
I think this "open book" non romantic relationship style of "friends and roommates" not sexual.
attachment is misunderstood by others but works well fro my adhd, meaning I'm not expected to marry, or be a wife in any capacity. he is free to do what he wants, as I am, and open communication is a novel frontier I brought into this in the start, and stayed with for the duration. we fight, but I fight with a lot of people in my life over many petty things. also down to my adhd, I believe, I have rejection sensitive dysphoria, which makes me hypersensitive to rejection, perceived or real.
im not sure if this is trauma or adhd or both. but
I have used sexuality as a weapon in many relationships but it cannot or will not be used here, so I have had to resort to uncovering parts of myself which I never knew, which will stay with me even if he decided to marry and wife up in 5 years, which I'm okay and expecting him to do, and I would much rather that then be trapped in a situation where I cannot be that "wife/mother archetype" as I'm too "femme fatal/other-woman/sex-laced seductress and siren" a "FWB, unicorn, drug buddy, hook-up where im a therapist" or "intellectual and cognitive mind-bender work-study obsessed woman".
both at once and many types of human, including one who is a full-time ceremonial magician of 7 years. I will drink, drug, fuck, fight like males and still be more feminine and high maintenance than 89% of women. I grew up a tomboy and don't mind getting into fun, adventure based situations, like hiking, or anything adrenaline, I would only be reluctant to eat weird shit.
I also have many "neurological" issues including ADHD, and trauma which causes a rupture in the average human and I dating.
I'll tell you how many men have said "you are the unicorn" and then realised what that means, I went as far as canvasing the PUA world back in 2014 after reading the game, a book on PUA, which is essentially, pick up artistry, based on NLP and hypnosis. I did this after reading the copy my ex in 2008 handed me before we dated saying "I gave this up for you". it took me years to open the book, buy when I did I truly believed the only way I would fall in love again, was through PUA. that failed in so many ways but gave me a training foundation for men who were candidates for that, I have trained up J, and the way that sounds is BAD. I know, but I got a lot of value myself, I just don't see it how I wanted to see it.
but that was my original intent, and I achieved this he knows that, knew it was happening and evolved for the best self.
I am thinking we can modulate this into a business model for how I was operating in the BDSM world was mainly psychological, not physical.
I get told all of is incredibly intimidating (I am told) to women and men.
I don't really care anymore, because people have always seen this part of me in the wrong way ANYWAY, but I own who I am NOW. which is what I needed ANYWAY. so it cannot be stolen again, and sexual healing has come from abstinence ironically.
I also don't care what or who is trying to tear up my relations, toxic or not toxic, all people around me will be on a healing journey by default, or cut out of my life, for I am radiating that energy so brightly its impossible NOT to feel that pull.
I will drag your shadows into the light, and make your secrets spin from your lips into my consciousness. its not what I do but its what is design.
I make your weaknesses mountains to climb over. you cannot hide from these in my presence, I won't be this controlling or obsessive female who wants 24-7 attention as I have a life full of meaning without love or sex. I don't want to be wined, dined or expensively gifted, unless specially requested.
I don't want love letters or romantic declarations, this isn't some femnazi bullshit, but it triggers me. I appreciate the efforts and won't make you feel bad about your insecurities, for mine are probably 30 x more pronounced.
I appreciate small things, that most males won't or don't know how to do. like remembering things I've said and being thoughtful. or knowing my silence isn't personal, or a game, but a protective wall. I've had songs sung too me, guitars played, songs written, or things made in ways that are heartfelt. but I've always had them used against me too. so it is the context. I value time, energy, conversations of depth and reciprocal exchange. I also value trauma understanding, my alters and fragments being accepted and valued as me as a whole and a person who is not afraid, or scared of stupid stuff like sensitivity, emotions, feelings as raw as my own. men feel intensely too, lol.
but will only give oral sex 100 times before I don't recieve it, I can communicate now so that wouldn't happen.
but I won't be a bitch about this stuff. I am extremely feminine and care in ways other people, do not, I forget nothing people tell me, so it can be a reward or reverse uno card pull in a fight, but I am not evil or deviant in my relations. I react, depending on how you treat me. I don't need your money, or providing source of income to be okay as I am my own queen, however sharing resources is okay to build something. I don't need to be seduced, but will need to be shown a person is trustworthy.
few cross that.
that will always be time-endurance and testing. there are ground rules I don't play with, or play games. or like being forced or forged into something I'm not. I know abusive and I know safe, and I am a psychology expert, trained psychotherapist and study humans for fun, so I'll always be analysing things.
and I know red flags and I know ego, I know how to placate and please and pleasure, but will only do so, for a bigger and better reason than the mere act of seduction. which is without value and transactional to someone like me, I won't lie.
and I know every tactic in the book, for the book was written by someone like me, many lives ago, and my karma is being burnt for that book.
in terms of walls, I have many, may it be called a maze. or labrnyth.
I will teach you things you never thought you'd know, and change your life in ways you won't ever be able to go back to before. I will blow your mind, sexually, emotionally, intellectually, on all levels, and I'll make your friends and family love me.
I'll bring your walls down and you won't be able to understand this, because you don't understand me, and thats ok.
but I'll always understanding you and make your life better because thats what I do anyway, and people talk to me about things I will never share, as I keep secrets. I am jealous, of everything but, only because I am attached in a disorganised way, and working on that.(I won't even mention how man women or men don't know basic psychology of themselves). I also am a therapist , for my friends and family too.i should not be , but I am. I care, I listen, If you think I'm not listening, I'm still listening. sometimes I interrupt, because I have ADHD and I am horrible at resolute planning, or being "normal". but I don't want to be normal anyway. I need you to recognise and understand my shit, for that is what I do for everyone in my life, and I have helped more than I receive.
I'll probably accidentally give you therapy, but thats fine, because you will uncover your depths and find meaning in this. it's not something that goes bad unless you are fundamentally, evil, even the most abusive relationship I was in, was benefited from this process. yes he's still narcissistic, but he is self-aware. and did I benefit, never, just know the anatomy of self-proclaimed narc and I still can't hate him. will get my civil claim one day.
I will fuck your mind without meaning too. but thats because I fuck my own mind. but the meaning is made in the man- some find this highly offensive or personal (its not). I fuck minds by my own overthinking, or over perception on many levels of reality. so join the ride, or don't come along at all. because once the rollercoaster is in motion, I have no control of what may or may not happen. it's purely experimental.
I am experimental.
and the women who are judging me, are not any better.
look within, and shut the fuck up. self-improve and quit this jealous divide and conquer bitchiness. I HATE gossip, bitches, snitches and fakers.
I look to other women who are intellectually, physically and spiritually "individual". and find value in superior status to my own, which is something my narcissistic ex taught me.
I look for mentors, and teachers and people who will teach me how to improve myself, which I am fearful to reconnect after something is amazing and I can't give anything back of positive value. I am sorry I am working on that.
I won't devalue those below me, but I also need to be mutually benefiting from a relationship.
I dont drag people down, I may disappear if I feel I am doing this by mistake. I am flakey as fuck, and sorry for that. its anxiety and lack of perfectionism, so I am wrong and bad for this. I can change. will change.
if you can find value with my relation, personal professional or romantic, we can move into a symbiotic beneficial agreement based on mutual "terms". but many won't or cannot see this, nor do I impose my bullshit into the lives of randoms at this age.
I don't care if this is cruel, it's real.
I value loyalty, compassion, self-insight/awareness, someone who understands all parts-spirituality, metaphysics while still having intellectual & logical & analytical brain-sight.
I enjoy music, magick and learning new things.
I do not care about appearances I dont think ive dated based on one time. I do value connections and chemistry which is far-few between, I hate fakers. I smell insincerity miles away. but I do respect women who are well-presented, or beautiful, with hair beauty and makeup, I can't do this shit well, so I look up to those who are in professions who do it like art. I find them to be genius level queens who scare me.
I call out bad behaviour and make people uncomfortable if they are repressed. I will change you without even meaning too, I don't even need to date you. its just my presence, over time, amplified by the intensity of the dynamics.
I don't want simplicity, but I also don't need over complexity.
I value passion, independence, creativity, curiosity, problem-solving, deep-disscussions, shared adventures and some occasional risk-taking (lol), sensuality and sexuality for a common cause beyond physical pleasure. I like being taught but not micromanaged. I need my own independence, and need to be trusted with that. I hate being scolded for that like a child, or being pushed to change my ways to conform to societal values. which I will push back and refuse to do. which is not healthy. I don't adult like many others do, but I try to proceed in other ways. and learn to adult like normal people, accept me.
I also value myself, and how I can be celebrated, enhanced and improved vs. the opposite.
I give space, and have boundaries, and understand human psychology, sexuality and relationships in ways few others unless they are trained, can do.
I value MY time. so you can have space to value YOURS. I dont need to be in anyones pocket for a long time. I love being alone, and being around people who are stimulating, but draining people will be drained out of my life quicker than I intend. I am sorry for the people who felt I disappeared, when I was only trying to be 'fair', if I feel I'm a bad influence, I will work on myself until I'm not. I'm still working on it.
I also use this psychology awareness, to enhance communication, connection. you may or may not become an accidental guinea pig. I will be upfront that I am experimental, but that is part of the buy ticket and take the ride. lets work together. not apart.
I am coming from a place of love, and love is what I feel for my animals, which you will be adopting as children.which I want to stop experiments being done on. I love love, in all ways, but hate cruelty of animals and children, violence and suffering. I dont advocate justice, because I find life is fucking cruel, unfair and unjust. by default, so I focus on myself. what can be changed, and what I am able to do in my own locus on control. I will always find myself drawn to the outsiders, the misfits, the vagabonds, the misunderstood. I want to help people who are society, or socially, disadvantaged by trauma and mental illness, but only when I have ability to help myself.
it's a journey.
I will not date anyone who is cruel to animals, outside of specify magical sacrifice, there is not any place for that. nor will I date or fraternise with anything or anyone linked or associated with pedophilia. I won't judge anyone on anything that are outside animal cruelty and pedophilia. I don't and haven't. I keep on good terms with every ex, bar 1 whom I only apologised too this year. it felt good to do that. I change my behaviour.
I am open, but also highly attuned to both logical, factual, empirical , scientific worlds, and spiritual, intuitive, psychic and the "collective unconscious". I walk in both these realms, and I am "conventionally attractive". which puts a lot of pressure on me, to be "stupid". I am always dumbing myself down to fit into normality, but I look ridiculous if I do that so I peacock my intellect.
only to be misconceived.
I give up because I no longer care how anyone but MYSELF can see ME. I won't dumb myself down , but I can enhance you UP. prepare yourself for graded education, evolution and self-growth on mass scales.sorry not sorry.
that sucks for the people who want to be living vicariously through me, for making up to lost trauma years, for family who sold me out for the success I'd bring home, or fake trauma enmeshed friends, or whatever they want or need from me. I value my time and energy, and have given that in abundance, and if you want to be with nut only "one part of me that is alters". I can't provide that now. not sorry.
I have to work on something or not be in a dynamic at all.
I no longer can switch on demand to adapt for you, it will not be effective and that upsets a lot of people. especially now I'm sober. harder to handle this, as I see the world for its ways and why it is, more vividly. I haven't had alcohol for almost 2 months, although, I could drink, I haven't.
I can't do it, anymore. it, being, faking, my selves fronting to impress. I can't. I have no more left to give, and I'm expected by everyone to be a way I can't do it in the way they want.
I will go to another year long outpatient DBT, followed by 10 weeks of A-C-T therapy, and however many ECT OR TMS may or may not help. I'm told it won't (ect) work. but TMS, is something I am open too. but I am telling you, none of this psychotherapy, that will be based on dbt skills, day therapy, intensive skills training, recommencing my studying, and resuming "life worth living" will or can wipe the traumas I've "recovered" memories for.
I will also shut the fuck up, and tell nobody about this if you leave me alone, I told that to my family, and this is open letter to the watchers, stalkers and perps who read this openly as I track the hits on here and have 200+ visits a day every day for the last month. globally. no idea how or who you are but I think its the same people who called the police for the "ayreon song lyrics" seen to be a suicide not last October.
thanks for that wake up call, I have shut the fuck up, since December, more so now. I will burn the journals, or lock them up.
my recovery is not linear, not yet fully integrated and I trust nobody so I don't think my psychotherapy will be deep, I focus on things like ADHD AND my EDNOS. and dbt skills. I won't be talking about sexual traumas.
enjoy the update, and thanks for the "attention".
I have my goals, my work, my meaning and what my life should and could and will look like, but I will not share that with anyone. that means everyone right now.
I've been tested, traumatised and terrorised to the point of not-tolerant of anyone who may bring that back, and banish the fuck out of my sphere every moment I need.
take me as I am, or watch me as I go, which I will go, where I am not wanted I will remove myself, but I will find where I am celebrated because I create that.
I will rise up against all adversity every time but that is survival and that created a resilient and brave woman, in me. who will not be destroyed or decomposed by humans who are fundamentally fucking evil.
I gift you my truth, in progression, and give up the pain of the past.
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Downfall Of Us All: Chapter 8
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Downfall Of Us All
Chapter 8 
AN: Thank you, to everyone who is enjoying the story and thank you to @jtargaryen18 for sending me positive thoughts.
Link to master list: 
Warnings: Character death, mention of past sexual assault and PTSD.
They reached the kitchen without anyone catching them, but Grace swore she could hear the soundtrack for Swan Lake playing in the distance. Maybe it was just her imagination. Clint grabbed a pack of chocolate cookies, while Grace made the popcorn, and some salted caramel brownies. There was plenty of stuff left over, as they sneakily went to Clint's bedroom. Clint was amused to see Grace's cats were asleep on the lounge near his bed, with Lucky settled peacefully on the large dog bed. He turned on Netflix, and found a film called Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol. He waited until Grace was comfortable and played the film, as they sat together in a comfortable silence while watching the film. Grace felt safe around Clint, he reminded her of a fierce hawk. She smiled, and offered him the plate of brownies, he took one and bit into it with a smile of thanks. They both watched the film, and were impressed so far.
Bucky found himself unable to sleep again, his nightmares were constantly waking him, and it made him hate what he was even more. He hated HYDRA, and he hated the KGB for turning him into the Winter Soldier. At least he wasn't that anymore, he preferred the name White Wolf that the Wakandan children had given him during his stay with the kind, gentle villagers. He heard music playing from the ballet studio, and curiously went to see what was going on. He was surprised to see it was Sophie, and she was dancing to Swan Lake, her movements graceful. It was reminding Bucky of Natasha, if he thought about it. "You're up late, doll." Bucky said quietly, Sophie jumped at hearing his voice, and turned around to face him. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake up anyone. I just couldn't sleep, my mind's just a jumbled mess," Sophie explained shyly, she was wearing a grey tank top with a pair of black sweatpants. Her eyes strayed to Bucky, he was in a pair of black sweatpants and shirtless, his left metal arm glowing in the dim lighting. She could see the gold outlines on his left metal arm. He looked intimidating but at the same time gentle, she cautiously put a hand on his left arm feeling him shiver against her touch. He swallowed roughly, and turned his face away. "Monster," he said bitterly, Sophie shook her head and squeezed his metal hand gently. She didn't think he was a monster, he'd been used as a weapon by HYDRA and the Soviet Union. "I think you should be calling me that, James. I was born out of rape, a lot of people would think I'm a monster." Sophie said quietly, feeling heartbroken at how terrified her mother must have been as had their father had been. "You weren't given a choice Sophie, your father...I remember him vaguely. My memories are slowly coming back, I write them in my journals," Bucky explained quietly, and Sophie looked at him quietly. "So, they're memory books?" She asked stunned, a part of her felt terrible for how Bucky must feel having to have these horrific memories of his crimes. He was a victim, just like her parents and Grace had been. The thought of what Grace had been put through, horrified her when they heard Jarvis speak. "Shall, I turn off the music Miss Sophie?" The AI asked politely, Sophie nodded in agreement at his suggestion. "Yes please, Jarvis." She said softly and looked at Bucky who was fussing over Raymond who'd come to visit. The Bengal rescue cat purred loudly and allowed him to stroke his chin.
Bucky nodded. "Yeah, I started journaling not long after S.H.I.E.L.D. fell and I was a fugitive for a couple of years." Sophie stopped to consider that. "You must have been… I can't imagine what that was like for you. All of a sudden you were free in a world that was so different from the one you came from. Was there no one to help you? Anyone?" Bucky shrugged, continuing to pet Raymond. "I could have gone to Steve. I should have gone to Steve. I spent most of that time avoiding him and he was just trying to help me." "Did you remember him at all?" Sophie wondered. "I know you were close before all of that happened to you." "In bits and pieces, Sophie," he admitted. "What I read about him in the Smithsonian seemed like an encyclopaedia next to what I remembered about him then. He said he was my friend but… I didn't know who to trust." His gaze met hers, the sympathy in her expression made him pause. "That's why I want to help you and your sister, I guess. I have an idea of what it's like to be tossed away when you're no longer useful and have to try and survive in a place you're completely unprepared for." He handed her Raymond, glancing around the ballet studio. "I'm grateful that you and Grace are here. This might not be what you wanted but it's better than falling into HYDRA's hands." Wrapping her arms carefully around her cat, she nodded. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little nervous about all of this, Bucky. I'm used to making cakes, not kicking ass." He laughed at that. "You'll do better than you think," he told her. "You showed a lot of promise today." "Yeah." Rolling her eyes, she put Raymond down at her feet. "I appreciate you trying to make me feel like I was… getting somewhere with that." "You did great," he told her. "And you weren't acting at all?" she said with a challenge. He'd kind of guessed that she was proud. He was starting to realize that he'd only just scratched that surface. "I wasn't acting at all," he said seriously. Sophie seemed to consider that. "I guess it wasn't terrible then. Grace showed me up." "She took down Peter." He snorted. "He wouldn't have gotten up off that mat so fast if you'd been the one who nailed him." She nodded, seeming embarrassed by the praise. "We could match you up with someone else to spar if that would help," he offered. "If that would make you feel better." "No," she said quickly, her face darkening. "No, I'd rather work with you. I don't want easier to feed my ego. You give me something to work towards. If I ever get to a point where I can take you down, well, I'll have some sense of accomplishment." "You will, huh?" Sophie was flustered, and it was adorable. "Don't make fun of me," she said with a nervous laugh. "Wouldn't dare, doll," he said with all honesty. "There's a lot of things I can't do. I couldn't make a cake to save my life. Hell, I can barely heat canned and frozen stuff when I have to." Her laugh was a warm, beautiful sound. "I sure couldn't dance like that," he admitted. "You can't dance at all?" She quirked a brow at him. "I didn't say that," he explained. "Used to love going dancing before I went into the army. I'd stay out on the floor with the dames—ladies for hours. Used to drive Steve nuts when I'd set him up on a blind date and drag him along." "Show me," Sophie challenged him. "We're up anyway. Dance with me."
"You're on doll," Bucky said intrigued, and he gently held her by the waist as Jarvis began playing slow jazz music on the speakers. He effortlessly spun her around, and pulled her into his arms, as they began doing a very intimate dance. He distantly recalled dancing before the war, and Sophie smiled at him as he threw her over his shoulder in an effortless move. She laughed, and they continued to dance. He didn't feel like a monster and smiled as the music changed to swan lake. He watched impressed as Sophie pointed her toes and leaned against the bar up against the mirror. She smiled at him, and he pulled her into him as they did pas de deux, and he smiled when she did the spin with attitude. She was like one of those miniature ballet dancers in a music box, spinning around delicately. "I'll catch you, trust me," he said quietly, she nodded at him and did the split leap, landing gracefully in his arms as the soundtrack finished dramatically. Neither of them had noticed Steve, and Natasha watching them.
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"It's like watching a Soviet Union version of Swan Lake, you know?" Natasha said softly, as they both watched Bucky and Sophie perform ballet. Steve nodded in agreement, he couldn't help but admire Bucky's dance moves, which clearly had ballet incorporated into the choreography.
Sophie performed a split leap, which would make any gymnast jealous as the music began ending dramatically. She landed gracefully in Bucky's arms, and Steve smiled.
Bucky looked relaxed, and happy. He was happy that Sophie had been able to make him, smile.
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Clint woke up to see that Grace was fast asleep, and it was three AM in the morning. He vaguely remembered that after watching Mission Impossible, they'd brushed their teeth and put the food away. He quietly put the quilt around her, and she curled up into him even more, seeking his warmth. He stilled, but relaxed and laid down beside her. Laura hadn't liked him holding her too much, that should have signalled warning bells, but he'd been in love with her. He had genuinely thought she had loved him and look how that turned out. Last night, Grace had comforted him and confessed that she felt the exact same way as he did about her son. She knew his pain, and the terrible heartache it left. Unlike Grace, he had closure, but she didn't have that small comfort. She'd been left in an agonising limbo with her sister, ever since S.H.I.E.L.D had taken Zach away. Hopefully they would find him, he felt Grace trembling in the bedsheets and saw she was crying fearfully. "Please don't do this, just let me go home. I swear I won't tell anyone," she sobbed frightened.
"Grace?" He muttered, his voice rough from sleep. "Please don't," she began to cry in her sleep. "Don't touch me. Please. I just want to go home—" "Grace!" Clint had firmly grasped her upper arms and shook her enough to awaken her but not enough to make her terror worse. "Gracie, wake up." Her eyes flew open, rolling around wildly until she began to focus on him. Her palm smoothed up to his face, staring hard at him for a moment as if she didn't know him. "Grace, it's Clint. It's me. Breathe," he whispered. Tears ran over her cheeks. Christ, she looked so scared. "Clint?" She asked, sounding so small. "Yeah, it's me," he told her, keeping his voice calm. "You're safe. I've got you." Her eyes scanned the room frantically, she seemed to be remembering how she'd got there and why. "He's not here?" "No, honey, he's not. Just me. You're safe with me," he whispered. "Please breathe. You're scaring me." It reminded him of the nightmares Cooper used to have when he was small, worried about monsters killing his daddy. She sucked in air before a sob ripped from her chest, a low painful sound that broke his heart as he watched her crumble. "Come here," he whispered, pulling her to his chest and holding her close. "It's okay. I've got you. You're safe with me." "Oh my God, Clint," she managed between sobs and breaths. "He's… he's still out there." "Not for long," he swore. Brock Rumlow's days were numbered. Clint would personally guarantee that. "What if he… f-finds me?" Her voice sounded so broken. "One day," Clint told her, rubbing small circles on her back, "he will find us. You and me. And we'll finish him, Grace. We'll keep him from ever hurting anyone else. I promise." Her arms wrapped around him, held him tight. He felt her nod against his chest. "Yes… yes, we will. I want to be there, Clint," she said, sounding stronger. Pulling back, she stared up into his face, her eyes filled with shadows of the pain he felt. "I want to be there to see it." Pressing a kiss to her forehead, he pulled her into his chest and stretched out on his back. "You'll be there, Grace. You'll see it." Nodding, she rested her head on his chest, throwing one slim leg across his own as she sought comfort. Trusting him as her sobs faded and her breaths slowed down into the cadence of sleep. Clint, who had a hard time sleeping himself, just enjoyed holding her. Her sleep seemed peaceful now and he'd take that. She'd need her sleep for the days ahead. He wasn't just telling her nonsense to get her to go back to sleep. He'd meant every word he'd said. He didn't care if Rumlow found him or it was the other way around. The outcome would be the same. Rumlow was already dead.
Clint had never hated someone as much as he did about Rumlow, and Laura but he did hate them. He'd make Rumlow suffer for what he'd done to Grace, and all of his other victims. He held Grace close and leaned back against the pillows as Starling came over and sat by his feet. The black cat purring lightly, as he lulled Clint into a restful sleep.
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Jarvis woke up the team for their morning training session, causing a bleary-eyed Tony to stumble out of his bedroom. His dark brown hair was tousled, and his Metallica t-shirt looked like it was covered in motor oil. "Eat breakfast, then we'll be doing team training," Steve said amused, when he saw Bucky and Sophie coming together, Bucky had a peaceful expression on his face while Sophie looked more at ease than she had yesterday. "Who's turn is it to cook?" Natasha asked curiously, the team had come up with a weekly rota, so each team member could cook breakfast, lunch and dinner. "Mine, Sam cooked yesterday." Bucky answered, as he began getting the ingredients out for Belgian waffles, pancakes and beef sausages. "Are we doing the training, and then eating?" Sophie asked tentatively, she didn't know how this worked out but was curious about how the team did it. "We'll be eating breakfast, and then doing training, shortly. We want you to build muscle, not waste away." Natasha explained patiently, and Sophie smiled in understanding. "Mr Stark, there are two police officers wishing to speak with you," Jarvis announced, Tony frowned but nodded at the AI. "Let them in, Jarvis." He said wearily, and they heard a car driving into the car park before seeing on the security camera two non-uniformed police officers entering. "Mr Stark, I'm Lieutenant Olivia Benson and this is my partner, Detective Amanda Rollins. I'm afraid, something has happened to Happy Hogan." The woman said gently. The room became quiet, everyone looked worried and Tony had paled considerably. "Is Happy alright? Where is he?" Tony asked worriedly, he cared a lot about Happy and the man had always supported him. "I'm so sorry Mr Stark, but Happy Hogan was found murdered this morning outside Stark Industries. Do you know where we can find Virginia Potts? She was the last person who Happy spoke to." Olivia explained sympathetically, her hazel eyes meeting his. Tony opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. Happy was dead......someone had murdered his close friend, and he felt sick to his stomach. The others looked at him worriedly, wanting to say something to try and console him. "I haven't spoken to Pepper since yesterday morning, she wants a divorce and I'm signing the papers today," Tony said quietly, feeling distraught. Who would want to kill Happy?
"Are you… are you sure it's him? Has the body been identified?" Tony tried, praying with everything he had that this was a mistake, that he and Happy could laugh it off later.
"You can help us with that, positive identification," Detective Rollins told him. "If you'd come with us."
Natasha gently embraced Tony from behind. "Maybe this is a mistake," she whispered.
Tony felt fragile at the moment like Nat was holding him up.
"Stay here and manage things," Tony told her. "I won't be long."
To Steve he nodded. "Take care of things, Cap."
Steve's face mirrored the sadness that was crushing him from the inside. Steve clamped a hand on his shoulder.
"Whatever you need," Steve told him.
Tony saw Bucky and the one spider girl, read their concern. Since when did people feel sorry for him? Pity him?
At least he had his shoes on as he trudged after the two policewomen and headed out of the front of the compound. The detective – her name was Amanda, right? – turned back to him as she motioned to their unmarked sedan.
"Would you like to bring someone with you, Mr. Stark?" she offered.
Tony felt lost, realizing everyone was back up in the kitchen. Glancing up and down the sidewalk, he saw one small woman coming up the walk, lugging a bag as big as she was. Her dark brown hair had gold highlights in the sun and it looked like she'd spent some time styling it. Her blouse and skirt looked professional, the heels he could tell she wasn't used to walking in were scuffed already and there was a huge runner in her stockings as she carried the bag up to the sidewalk.
Deliberately he came to a stop in front of her. "Who are you?"
Her mouth dropped open when she glanced up at him, her grey eyes wide. "Lillia Dumitrescu."
"Do you work here?"
The young woman nodded. "It's my first day."
She was adorable, and she would do.
"You work for me?"
"Yes, Mr. Stark."
"Okay, we're going to the police station," he told her before opening the back door and ushering her in the back of the car, huge bag and all. "Get in."
Once they were settled, she sat demurely in the back with her hands folded in her lap. "Am I in trouble, Mr. Stark?"
Tony shook his head. "I just need someone to come with me to the police station."
"Okay."
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Tagging list: @jtargaryen18, @marvelfansworld, @sapphirescrolls, @kitkatd7, @sweater-daddiesdumbdork, @nomadicpixel and @queenoftheunderdark, and @my-favourite-fics​
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laughingpinecone · 4 years
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Press Start letter
I am laughingpineapple on AO3
It’s a long list of character combos so the specific requests aren’t overly detailed, please draw at will from my general likes and general fandom likes in addition or as an alternative to any of those!
All requests are art or fic - for art, the stuff I like is the kind that depicts the characters doing something. I’ll always be happier with a very simple drawing of two characters walking together or sharing a cup of coffee than with an ambitious composition that looks like an Avengers poster. I also enjoy seeing them wear different clothes, getting a feel of what their fashion sense is like beyond their canon outfit(s).
Likes: worldbuilding, slice of life (especially if the event the fic focuses on is made up but canon-specific), missing moments, 5+1 and similar formats, bonding and emotional support/intimacy, physical intimacy, lingering touches, loyalty, casefic, surrealism, magical realism, established relationships, future fic, hurt/comfort or just comfort from the ample canon hurt, throwing characters into non-canon environments, banter, functional relationships between dysfunctional individuals, unexplained mysteries, bittersweet moods, journal/epistolary fic, dreams and memories and identities, canon-adjacent tropey plots, outsider POV, UST, resolved UST, exploration of secondary bits of canon, leaning on the uniqueness of the canon setting/mood, found families, characters reuniting after a long and/or harrowing time, friends-to-lovers, road trips, maps, mutual pining, cuddling, wintry moods, the feeling of flannel and other fabrics, ridiculous concepts played straight, sensory details, sickfic, places being haunted, people being haunted, the mystery of the woods, small hopes in bleak worlds, electricity, places that don’t quite add up, mismatched memories, caves and deep places, distant city lights at night, emphasis on non-human traits of non-human characters (gen-wise, but also a hearty yes xeno for applicable ships)
Cool with: any tense, any pov, any rating, plotty, not plotty, IF, nerdy canon references, unrequested characters popping up
DNW: non-canonical rape, non-canonical children, focus on children, unrequested ships (background established canon couples are okay, mentions of parents are okay), canon retellings, consent issues
Dark Souls
I’m only familiar with the first game+DLC! It’s probably relevant to mention that I think that linking the fire is kind of a dumbass move and Gwyn is an ass, but on the other hand Kaathe has his own agenda and there’s no winning move in this world, or at least no obvious one. Feel free to deviate from anyone’s canon endings, to make things happen that’ll stave off their hollowing. I am interested in any of these people meeting and possibly striking up a friendship, and also in exploring Lordran’s temporal/dimensional fuckery, where it’s possible to meet people who have been gone for ages…
Group: Solaire of Astora & Siegmeyer of Catarina: so much fanart of Sun Bro & Onion Bro being bros, so little fic. And yet, the potential! How’d they bounce off each other, what about the fact that Siegmeyer is apparently a proper Catarina knight after all while Solaire just painted his self-made insignia and left, what would Sieg think of Solaire’s quest?
Group: Alvina the Cat & Sieglinde of Catarina: dunno, kitty. I love them both and I want everyone cool to go on adventure with each other. What’s left for Alvina now that Sif is gone, Artorias’ grave desecrated? For her part, did Sieglinde, you know, (mimics Ash Lake)?
Ghost Trick
I am very interested in various characters finding about the erased timeline, but not getting their memories back, and having to live with being told about what they did but never remembering it. Exploring the ghost lore is great. All what-ifs welcome (what if they managed an acceptable happy ending but didn’t reset the timeline, what if a different party went back to the past and kept their memories, what if Alma’s ghost stuck around…) Also open to AUs here, especially for generic fantasy or sci-fi settings or the Final Fantasy ones I prompted last Yuletide.
For the non-canon sides of Jowd/Alma/Cabanela, please no infidelity? I’d be good with either setting the fic during the game timeline or some what-if thereof when the other spouse is dead or unavailable, or simply keeping them offscreen and not mentioning them (eg Alma/Cabanela beach day, Jowd/Cabanela precinct shenanigans)
For Jowd in general, I do love my big boy and enjoy milking that size difference for all it’s worth. In gen contexts too, it’s neat. him big.
Group: Jowd & Yomiel: I’d love to read about the intimate understanding that comes from their shared memories and the horrors they’ve mutually forgiven (and a penchant for morbidity they’ve gained from such horrors probably). Cat dads things welcome.
Group: Alma/Jowd/Cabanela: maybe once Alma and Jowd have figured out he’s smitten and that they do in fact reciprocate... they tease him to death, slowly and deliberately? Is it even a Jowd romance if there’s not an exhausting amount of teasing involved, I ask?
Group: Alma/Jowd & Cabanela: Cabs’ life is wild; his best friends’ home is a safe haven...
Group: Emma & Pigeon Man: Emma’s unsuspected beta reader...
Group: Alma/Cabanela: (taps mic) legs. And fashion!
Group: Cabanela/Jowd: a recent tumblr post made a convincing argument for Cabs liking to be in charge (the argument is just pointing at Cabanela, honestly). Jowd is... agreeable, by his own admission. But is it that simple?
Kentucky Route Zero
I love the ending and I’d love to see its themes and setting explored. I’m all for exploration of any of the game’s themes and for including any staples from adjacent genres - wanna go full-on American Gothic? Dip into surrealism? Take a leaf from Twin Peaks with tulpa / split narratives to explore the characters’ issues? I love AUs so that’s an option too. Or of course there’s Xanadu at the height of its glory, an infinite what-ifs generator. Were the requested characters part of it, what were their digital counterparts up to? A Xanadu narrative would be great! I’d also love to hear about any new spot along the Zero or the Echo river, or an expansion of some place that’s only mentioned by Will in HATATE or only gets a few paragraphs of text. Mostly, I just love all these characters so much and I’m going through the tagset’s options like a hyperactive cat. Any fragment of their lives will make me happy.
Group: Shannon Márquez & Conway & Conway's Dog: does Shannon get to see them after the ending? Even for a moment?
Group: Lula Chamberlain/Joseph Wheattree/Donald: so Lula went back to Mexico. Joseph is pensive. Did the events of the night shake up Donald, or what will it take?
Group: Junebug & Lula Chamberlain: artists! Outspoken... artists... with a complicated personality. Put them in the same room and...?
Group: Junebug & Johnny: where’s the strangest place they played in, and what did Johnny find there?
Group: Conway & Johnny & Junebug (Kentucky Route Zero): their story is about finding individuality, his is about succumbing and losing it. Would any of them pick up on this mid-Act IV? Or just... talking about limbs and stuff?
Group: Cate & Will & Shannon Márquez (Kentucky Route Zero): a few months later, Shannon finds herself on the Mucky Mammoth again...
Group: Carrington & Weaver Márquez & Shannon Márquez (Kentucky Route Zero): maybe the cousins were trying to bond or reminisce or whatever and Carrington dive-bombed into the conversation, but in the end it was an enriching experience... of sorts?
Group: Carrington & Lula Chamberlain (Kentucky Route Zero): I don’t usually look for college shenanigans but this may be the exception? Or Art Opinions?
Group: Carrington & Clara (Kentucky Route Zero): would she even... get a word in? Maybe with the right topic?
Group: Carrington & Cate & Will (Kentucky Route Zero): Mammoth life! ...what does theater have to say about mushrooms again?
Group: Shannon Marquez & Weaver Marquez (Kentucky Route Zero): at the end of it all, Weaver was waiting. After this end, they can stand side by side again...
Group: Emily & Ben & Bob (Kentucky Route Zero): so what does it mean, like, poetically, that they were temporally displaced and Act I is in their future from Act V? Is it possible they were not aware of it?
Mutazione
The island, the sense of community, newcomers joining the community, gardens and music... I love the mood of this little game. Got ideas for some part of the island we haven’t seen? What stories do they tell each other about Moon Dragon and the first days of the new life it brought? The plants encyclopaedia was great - do Yoké’s archives hide some other cool tome? Please, if Graubert is mentioned, I would much prefer a sympathetic portrayal - he’s got his issues but I felt that the game was much harder on him than anyone else.
Group: Yoké & Karoo: I love the friendship between Yoké and Nonno and filtering it through Karoo feels even cooler to me. When did the big spooky bird first visit, did Yoké know or perceive what was going on?
Group: Yoké & Claire: book club book club book club!
Group: Spike/Claire: they’re so cute! Dinner at Mori’s? Swimming together?
Group: Nonno & Spike: I love Nonno’s role in the community and Spike’s role in the community, and they’re the two people who landed there and decided to stay. Could they bond over this?
Group: Dennis & Nonno: Important Tree Health Business!
Group: Bopek & Jell-A: Jell-A is the absolute coolest and Bopek grew on me a lot. Their friendship is adorable! What could they do together? As a side note, Jell-A’s place has the tightest interior decor in the whole game. How’d that happen, and does Bopek get a flair for vintage shapes and volumes in his weaving?
Group: Mori & Nonno & Yoké: FRIENDS. Friends for a long time, through so much pain. An evening together while The Youths (tm) are at Spike’s bar?
Yoké: catch-all Yoké request because he’s my fave! Doing Yoké things, being a big nerd, caring for books and plants and stuff
Pyre
The burning found family feelings, the revolutionary passion, the tension between topside social constraints and the kind of freedom allowed by the Downside! Thoughts about finding oneself at  the end of an age, as everything crumbles down to form something new. I love all the themes, the solemnity, the heart of this game. I adore everyone in that Blackwagon+Dalbert+Celeste, so if you want to add a Nightwing or two to any prompt, please do! I also love all the Scribes and find Erisa a compelling tragic figure. Out of the other triumvirates, I’m “love to hate them” for Manley, Brighton, Udmildhe and Deluge and would not like to see them featured in sympathetic roles. My main interest usually lies in post-canon exploration when applicable, but I’m also into various adventures during canon. Pick a location or a place outside the map and see what happens? As for the ending variables, I’d ask for a peaceful revolution and Oralech alive, but no preferences for who’s up and who’s down, pick whatever works best for any given plot bunny.
Group: Tariq & Soliam: what were Tariq and Celeste like in their earliest days? Were they made or summoned from some sort of preexisting star consciousness? They’re wildly different scenarios! I’m good with either. Does Soliam then see Tariq as a child of sorts, someone he made, or something greater than himself? Did he mean to do that, to have these two immortals around? What does Tariq learn from the First Scribe?
Group: Tariq & Dalbert Oldheart: Any excuse for Tariq to hang out with the Fates for a little while, and treasure and be treasured by dear Dalbert...
Group: Oralech & Vagabond Girl: after all is said and done, Oralech’s view of the Scribes is probably... understandably... dire. So of course I want to see him talk it out with ae!
Group: Celeste & Ignarius: look, listen, if the various triumvirates just camped out near their respective Scribe’s place during the Nightwings’ years-long absence (not the only possible explanation for how you find them all neatly lined up before the first lib rite, but an explanation nonetheless, I think. just let me have my crack), that means Iggy was Celeste’s neighbor for a long time. Neighborly hijinks please?
Group: Bertrude/Pamitha: Pam returning from her travels, again and again, and finding a home in Bertrude’s lab, finding an understanding there... Bertrude’s attitude being thorny in a way that’s just what Pam needs to allow herself to open up... also: snake kisses.
Group: Volfred Sandalwood/Oralech: waking up and remembering that the mourning that’s set deep in your roots is for someone who never died, waking up and remembering that the bitterness that consumed you had made up a betrayal that never was, finding each other through these crumbling walls... 
Molten Milithe: that’s the pov for a love letter to the Downside, right? And/or which Scribe did she bond with the most? Or the least for that matter?
Volfred Sandalwood: catch-all Volf’n’anyone request. I want to see our tree interact with any friend and foe you might fancy! Arguing for his beliefs, being a history professor through and through, finding himself in a tight spot and getting unexpected help, verbally tearing Brighton a new one if they ever cross each other’s path again...
group: Volfred Sandalwood/Tariq | The Lone Minstrel: Volfred’s zodiac sign is Cancer and Cancer is ruled by the Moon, so there’s that.    I love how they both hold the other in the highest esteem, especially on Tariq’s part since he’s the immortal Herald of the Scribes and Volfred is, all in all, a history teacher, but listen to him and you’d think the roles were inverted. I love my nonviolent canon but could anything happen to either of them that may require a rescue, and/or some good old-fashioned h/c? What’s something that could make Tariq of all people lose it? How’s life 100 years on?
Shenmue
This game cares for the little things. I’d love to see fanworks that try to out-slice-of-life canon...
Group: Qiu Hsu & Xianzi Bei: cormorant kung fu adventure! Do they hang out sometimes?
Group: Hazuki Ryo & Shenhua Ling: any moment, discussion, small adventure from their travels together! I love their bond! For all its waifufication of Shenhua, S3 really sold me on their friendship and a shared brand of dorkiness. Alternatively, sometimes I remember that they’d be 50ish in the present day - how and where do you picture them?
The Silver Case
I‘m all for the surrealism, big things being introduced and never picked up again, Rashomon’ing it up with six explanations for the same thing where no single one can be true, people dying and then popping up again like nbd...  maybe the thing I like the most is characters transcending their humanity and looming over the dystopian world like ominous avatars. Correctness’ first ending had me swooning, that kind of mood is unparalleled. I have played TSC, FSR and 25W so far and have vague memories of K7. I’m aware of the “everything’s connected” readings but that’s not my main interest in these games. For FSR-focused requests, I see Lospass as a real island but also a metaphysical  place of transformation first and foremost, where strange things happen that don’t make sense elsewhere.
Group: Toriko Kusabi & Remy Fawzil: What’s Toriko up to when she’s not chasing Chris? I think it could be fun to throw her at Remy and see the island from their point of view!
Group: Tokio Morishima & Edo Macalister: since Tokio stayed at the Flower Sun and Rain... I’m interested in peculiar happenings on Lospass that are not centered on Sumio...
Group: Tetsugorou Kusabi/Sumio Kodai: Tetsu picked one hell of a crush, huh! What’s it like in the aftermath of the games, when Sumio is Like That? How does Tetsu grapple with Parade? Is Tetsu an anchor of sorts for Correctness Sumio, who seems (at best) to be existing on a slightly different plane of existence at any given time and could disappear if you blink too hard?
Group: Tetsugorou Kusabi & Shinko Kuroyanagi: I’m joining the “let these two be foulmouthed friends” masses - who’d be more fed up with the other’s nonsense, and in which ways would they be an unstoppable team?
Group: Shinkai Tsuki & Tetsugorou Kusabi: Both of them end their stories in the shadows one way or another, and defending their protégé may have had a hand in their misfortune one way or another. What kind of understanding could they reach? What IS Tsuki up to anyway?
Group: Christina & Catherine: anthro Catherine, as per the Placebo bonus chapter Yami, was unexpectedly charming. What was Chris before reaching Lospass, and did he also have a chat with her on the plane or on the island?
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clefairytea · 3 years
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Oh no my lunch time post about the Pokédex is ticking upwards in notes. I am once again emphasising that I am not Japanese nor fluent in Japanese. If I am wrong about the common connotations of the term 図鑑 please correct me.
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Easter Hunt
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Characters: Reader, Dean, Sam (all platonic)
Inspiration: Easter!
Warnings: None
Summary: The moment Dean and Sam turned their backs to practice target shooting, you get up to some Easter-themed antics in the Bunker.
Dean and Sam walked into the library after spending the better half of the morning shooting rounds at target practice. It almost felt like they were going to bring the whole place down with the way the gunshot sounds bounced off the walls and echoed to every inch of their home. They took a seat at the library table and poured themselves a glass of whiskey, each taking comfort in the silence.
Wait. Silence? That couldn’t be right. There were three hunters in the bunker the last time the duo had checked.
“Have you seen (Y/n)?” Sam asked, being the first one to realise that they were down a hunter. Dean took a sip of his drink and leaned back in his seat. Just once, he wanted to relax and not be bothered with something trivial like the lost case of (Y/n).
“They’re probably in their room trying to find a spell that’ll bring Cas here.” He assumed but before he could take another swig, the older Winchester was pinned down by his brothers’ glare. They both had walked past your room on the way down and knew that it was unoccupied. The kitchen was the same.
“Just once.” Dean grumbled to himself, straightening up with a sigh and looking up. “(Y/n), where’d you go?”
Crickets...
“Do you think they went out?” Sam wondered. He knew, as well as Dean, that their friend had been on edge with the case of Kelly Kline and now, with Castiel refusing to respond, he feared that maybe you had taken matters into your own hands. You had done it before.
“Impossible. Their bike’s under repair, they hate the other vehicles in the garage, and I’d hear my Baby roar if they’d dared taking her.” Dean reasoned.
All of a sudden, the boys felt their phones buzzing in their respected jacket pockets. Pulling it out, they found a text message from their missing hunter.
‘All was well.’
“All was well? What the hell does that mean?” Dean asked, brows furrowed as he tried to decipher the message like Da Vinci’s Code. Sam chuckled at his brother’s lack of knowledge and the way Dean repeated the three words like a chant. Finally, he grew tired and pointed at Dean’s screen.
“All was well - it’s a quote.”
“A quote from what, the Encyclopaedia?” His brother questioned.
“From the last Harry Potter.”
“Wow, you’ve sucked (Y/n) into your circle of weird.”
“Dude,” Sam took Dean’s phone with an eyeroll and shook it, “They’re giving us clues.”
He walked over to the furthest bookcase on the left and scanned for his selection of Harry Potter books that stood out with their multi-coloured spines. He pulled out the final book and opened the cover only for a small, yellow paper to slip out. Dean bent down and picked it up only to smack his lips and glare at Sam as he held it out for his younger brother to see.
The slip of paper turned out to be a cut-out of a comical chick and Sam couldn’t help but chuckle at the effort (Y/n) put into it. Dean’s scowl remained - these weren’t the chicks that he was fond of.
“If (Y/n) thinks that we’re…”
“Dean, come on. It’s Easter and they’ve already been messed up enough with Cas and Lucifer’s kid. It’s been some time since they’ve done something like this.” Sam argued gently. Dean rolled his eyes for what seemed like the hundredth time that morning and gave Sam the paper in response. Sam smiled quickly before flipping the yellow paper on its back and read the message out loud.
“I’m a room that gives you strength,”
“The arsenal, obvious.” Dean solved.
“But I am not the weapons bay.”
“Seriously?!”
Dean stormed away which left Sam to squint at his actions. “Where are you going?”
“The kitchen!” Dean snapped, still sour about not getting it right the first time. Sam sighed, put the book back in its place on the shelf and hurried after his brother. Sam reached the kitchen a few moments after Dean and found the man staring at the kitchen bench where there was an empty egg-basket.
“What are you doing?” Sam asked and moved forward to grab the basket only to be stopped. “Dude.”
“Don’t. This is the making of every horror film.” Dean told him, one hand on the hilt of his gun while his eyes were trained on the intricately-woven basket, missing the way in which Sam’s hazel eyes rolled to the back of his head with the dramatisation. Sam moved past the blockade and picked up the object, much to the disapproval of Dean, finding the next message in the shape of a rabbit.
“‘Baby, baby, baby’?” Sam frowned. He was stumped by this one. What did they mean by-?
“Baby!” Dean cried out and bolted for the door. Sam jolted at his brother’s outburst and quickly ran out after him.
“Hey, wait!”
Sam sprinted down the kitchen hallway and was hot on his brothers heels until Dean turned a corner and nearly had his brother trip over his misplaced slipper. Sam groaned and finally understood why (Y/n) was always pissed about the hallways.
Looking up, he saw Dean curve a second left and realised that the man was headed to the garage.
Baby, of course. He thought. Sam mapped out the interior of the bunker and instead of following his brothers’ heading, he turned right and took a shortcut instead.
Just as he had planned, Sam reached the garage a few seconds faster than his brother, who halted his runs and started stalking forward instead, like he was on a hunt. The garage was darker than normal and Sam noticed a glimmer of silver as he jogged over, flinching when he saw an angel blade in play.
“Dean, why are you even holding that?”
“This isn’t (Y/n), Sammy. This is some demonic crap that’s messing with us.” Dean stated, his voice low and dangerous. Sam scoffed at the foolery and took the weapon from him, refusing to give his brother an explanation.
Dean scowled as he proceeded deeper into the garage, prepared for a fight oddly enough while the younger Winchester looked through the dark for the next clue. As they took a few more steps forward, Dean kicked something hard that tipped onto the ground and, judging by the sound of it rolling, it was an egg.
Quite suddenly, the lights flicked on and just by Dean and Sam’s feet were a trail of coloured easter eggs that led to the Impala.
“Son of a -”
The Impala was untouched on the outside but the inside of the vehicle was a completely different story. There were coloured eggs crammed in the interior of the car, from the bottom to the top, and very visible through the window.
Dean ran up to his pride and joy and plastered his hands against the window to look inside, hoping that (Y/n) had the decency to leave some room for the leather to breathe.
Nope. There was no space that wasn’t occupied by chocolate.
“Happy Easter!” You cried out, jumping out from behind the glossy, black ride. Sam laughed along, happy to see you smile again, while Dean seemed unable to move. You joined the taller Winchester and shrugged curiously.
“What do you think?” You wondered while Sam glanced at the chocolates.
“Well, I get the hunt but why’d you fill the car with eggs?” He questioned. You opened your mouth, a response on your tongue when Dean suddenly turned and interrupted.
“What did Baby ever do to you?” He asked and, when you looked at him, he was offended.
“It’s a delayed April Fool’s.” You answered, placing a finger on your chin while pretending to think. “I’m pretty sure I mixed a few raw eggs in there.”
“How dare you.”
Laughing, you reached into your pocket and pulled out the keys to the ‘67 Chevrolet, tossing it over to your friend-turned-family.
The instant the keys landed in Dean’s hands, he swiftly unlocked the passenger-side door and chocolate eggs cascaded like a waterfall onto the ground. Dean took a step back to stay clear from the hollow pieces of chocolate but tripped and fell backward, crushing several egg shells beneath his weight while being buried in colour.
You scooped up an armful of sweet treats and bolted from the scene. Sam chuckled to himself and scratched his forehead at your antics.
“I hate this!” Dean shouted as he sat up, pulling out broken fragments of chocolate and then taking a bite out of one.
“Well, Gabriel is their guardian angel.” Sam justified, picking up an egg and unwrapping it before popping it in his mouth while watching his brother sigh heavily.
“Don’t remind me.”
Dean finally got to his feet and started the mission of digging out the eggs as carefully as he could, just in case he broke one of the real ones. Sam had eaten half-a-dozen chocolate eggs in this time and turned to leave only to find you rushing back in.
“Gotta work faster, Dean. We’ve got a case.” You informed, shaking your phone gently.
“You’ve got to be kidding me?” Dean groaned from somewhere in his car as he found a very real egg. Sam ignored his brother and kept focus on the hunter.
“What are we dealing with?”
“There are reports of a creature stalking a small town in Ohio that’s targeting children and leaving their bodies missing of their front teeth.”
“So, rogue faerie?” Sam wondered but you shook your head.
“Sightings report large ears, whiskers, and a puffy tail.”
“I hate Easter!” Dean declared as he glared at the egg-yolk dripping through his fingers. Sam nodded at the strange turn in events and rolled up his sleeves.
“Looks like we have an evil Easter Rabbit to slay.”
A/n: Hey, hey! Yes, I’m still alive and well. If you want to throw your torches and pitchforks at me for abandoning you – you’re most welcome to do so. It’s been really difficult balancing writing, work, and ‘me’ time :( but I’m trying to fix it.
Unfortunately, the uploads won’t be consistent but I hope to keep them rolling because I love all of you <3
Masterlist here
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