tora42 said: So what are your triggers? I'll try and remember to tag appropriately before I reblog.
Thank you for asking <3
It comes up on twitter a lot more than it does on tumblr, but I have OCD (diagnosed, not in the appropriating-someone-else’s-mental-illness way) and anything to do with contagious illness is a massive trigger for me.
Sometimes I’m internally like “How is that a trigger?, ” then I realize other people have different life experiences from me, they don’t owe me their story, and I move the fuck on.
These things go around all the time. ALL THE TIME. But still almost no one tags for my triggers, no matter how many times I ask them to.
perletwo said: Clint/Coulson, meeting in the E.R/A&E au?
Clint’s been waiting super patiently for a couple of hours by the time a guy in suit pants and a blood-soaked white shirt sits down in the empty chair next to him.
He’s moving stiff as hell and the left side of his shirt has been ripped by something that looks like it had giant fuck-off claws. He’s more interesting than the screaming kids, the shaky old people, or the nurses Clint’s been watching up to now.
He’s also way more interesting than Clint’s own broken ribs, bloody nose, and maybe-concussion.
“Let me guess,” Clint says, “lion tamer.”
the only domestic instinct my parents have managed to pass on to me is the tendency to hoard multiple plastic bags in another plastic bag despite the fact that I will probably never need this many plastic bags in my adult life
hils79 said: Steve/Bucky sitting on the same park bench au
Steve is waiting for Sam outside the VA, just enjoying the feel of cool winter sun on his face, when someone sits down on the other end of his bench.
There are plenty of empty benches around them, so Steve spares him a long glance, checking him over to see if he’s a threat.
The man doesn’t look like Hydra; he’s wrapped up in a coat that’s too big for him, the sleeve of the left arm empty, and a dirty cap pulled down over his eyes. He looks cold down to his bones.
Steve finds himself turning toward him, holding out the cup of coffee that he bought but didn’t want.
“No, thanks,” the guy says, looking at Steve like he’s potentially crazy.
“I haven’t drunk any of it,” Steve says. “It’s cootie-free.”
jmathieson-fic said: Clint/Coulson 18. waking up with amnesia au
The pain in Clint’s head gets worse with every step, his whole body screaming at him that he needs to stop, needs to sit down and rest or his brain is going to bleed out of his ears.
He stumbles on, one foot in front of the other, the heat of an explosion he doesn’t remember at his back. His radio crackles in his ear, but if they’re talking, he can’t hear it over the ringing in his ears.
One more step.
A third step and his knees give out. Strong hands catch him under the arms, helping him control his fall down to the ground. He blinks upward, watching Phil’s face swim in and out of focus.
Something’s wrong about that, he knows it, but then it’s gone.
“Hey,” he mumbles, then everything goes dark.
nerdwegian said: 22, miserable people meeting at a wedding!
“… but my wife and I like to think that we’re not losing a daughter, we’re gaining a son.”
The effort of not rolling his eyes is threatening to give Clint a migraine. It’s not so much all the cliches, it’s the fact that the bride’s father is delivering them as though he was the first person to ever think of them, and the audience (are they called an audience? No, wait the guests) are lapping it up.
“I will pay you to stab me with that bread roll,” Clint mutters.
Next to him, Kate kicks him hard under the table and hisses, “Don’t tempt me.”
“You’re bored too,” he says out of the corner of his mouth. She is, he knows all her tells, and she’s been obsessively straightening all her silverware into neat little lines since the father of the bride started droning on.
“No, I’m not,” she says, a charming smile etched permanently on her face while she talks through gritted teeth. “This is beautiful and… Oh thank god, I think he’s nearly finished.”