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#i actually did buy a small comm not too long ago so i hope that one saves me from not crying abt it 😔😔😔
jils-things ¡ 5 months
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cant believe my mom thinks that buying art commissions isnt considered getting a christmas gift 🙄🙄 MOM..... MOM YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND
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cloudy-minded-idiot ¡ 3 years
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mentor
pairing: platonic Natasha Romanoff x reader
warnings: none
word count: ~ 1,900
a/n: a big thank you to the lovely @witchyredfoxes who requested this! I hope you like it!
summary: you’re new to the avengers and Natasha takes you under her wing. 
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You had never felt this tired before in your entire life. Out of breath and disgustingly sweaty, you forced yourself to throw another punch at the dummy, ignoring the way your aching muscles protested against every move you made. You needed to do this. The dummy rocked back with the force of your punch and snapped back surprisingly fast. Too fast. Your exhausted senses registered the threat far too late and the plastic head of the dummy hit your face with full force. Caught off guard, you stumbled and fell down on the mat.  
Groaning, you rubbed at your nose, glad that your hand came back without any blood. It still hurt like hell though. Closing your eyes against the pain, you hit your fist against the ground in frustration and used your other arm to hide your face in the crook of your elbow. Maybe you could just lay down here for a while. Just wallow in your shame where no one else would find you. The blue mats were surprisingly comfortable. But that might just be your tiredness speaking.  
“You know you have a perfectly good room upstairs, right?”  
Spooked, you scrambled to your feet as fast as you could, heart beating wildly in your chest and eyes wide as saucers as you stared dumbly at the newcomer in the gym. You knew who she was. Of course, you did. She was basically a legend among the SHIELD agents and a renowned superhero. The Black Widow smirked at your reaction; her arms crossed over her chest as she leaned against the wall. She was glad in her famous black mission outfit, red hair pulled back in a messy bun and face dirty. You had heard that she was gone on a special operation when you had been first introduced to the other superheroes a few days ago, so her attire came as no surprise. She must be fresh off of her mission.  
After few seconds of openly gaping at her, you realized you should probably say something too.
“I do know. I just thought I should get some more training in.”  
She raised an eyebrow, eyes darting to the clock on the wall.  
“A bit late for that, don’t you think? Not even Steve trains at these hours anymore.”  
For a moment you marvelled at the way she so casually referred to Captain fricking America as 'Steve'. Honestly, the friendly way they all treated each other and how close they were was the thing that has surprised you most since you first met the team of heroes. When your instructor told you about the Avengers Initiative, you had imagined a team that only worked together on a professional basis, always keeping a distance, following strict orders. But it was much more casual and less hierarchical than you thought. They joked together, watched movies, had drinks. It seemed nice. You really hoped you could be a part of this someday.  
You cleared your throat, shrugging at the agent's previous statement.  
“He’s actually the reason why I'm here. Mr. Rogers gave me some pointers on what I should improve during training earlier. I thought it was best to get a head start.”  
The Black Widow smiled in amusement, shaking her head at you. Forwning, you went over your words again to find out what she could possibly find amusing about them. But before you could overthink it any more, the redhead pushed herself away from the wall and approached you. Her steps were sure, her gaze never left you.  
It felt like she was appraising you, so you did your best to stand up straighter, hid your tiredness and kept a neutral look on your face. She stopped a couple of feet away.  
“You know, your superiors warned us about you, Y/L/N.”  
Her statement made you nervous, but you forced yourself to not let it show. Her light-hearted tone suggested that she didn’t mean to cause you anxiety.  
“He said you were hard-working, insufferably so even. Dedicated and driven to the point of negligence when it came to your own needs. I’m inclined to agree from what little I know of you.”  
You opened your mouth to defend yourself somehow, but she cut you off with one simple motion of her hand. She flashed you a reassuring smile, making sure to let you know that she did not mean to offend. You relaxed a little, keeping your mouth shut.  
“Your superior also said you were a damn fine agent. The best that he has,” she took another step closer, laying one hand on your shoulder in comfort, “And I promise that despite your obvious worries, you will make an even better Avenger. There’s no need to double-guess and overwork yourself.”  
Her word made it clear to you that she had seen right through you and recognized the motives for your late-night training sessions. You really had thought you were concealing your emotions pretty well. But then again, she was a master spy. Your shoulders sagged as you let out a defeated sigh, suddenly feeling even more exhausted than before.  
“It's just...I really want this to work out and I feel like there’s so much I need to improve before I could even begin to be a valuable part of the team. All of you guys are legends, gods, geniuses, and masters of your crafts. It’s intimidating.”  
Your admission was met with understanding as the redhead slung an arm around you and slowly steered you away from the training equipment.  
“You’re being too hard on yourself. I read your file, even came to watch you train a couple of times at SHIELD.”  
Your eyes widen at her revelation, having been previously unaware of that fact. You were sure you would have noticed her in the training room.
She continued.  
“So, I know what I'm talking about when I tell you to stop selling yourself short. You’re already a valuable addition to the team. We wouldn’t have chosen you if you weren’t.”  
Her words, surprisingly, did much to calm your anxious mind. The knot that had formed in the pit of your stomach since your arrival at the compound loosened little by little. You flash her a hesitant smile.  
“That’s- Thank you. That really helped, Ms. Romanoff.”  
She scrunched up her nose at your words, the two of you stopping at the entrance of the gym.
“Please just call me Natasha. Ms. Romanoff makes me feel old. And I'm glad I could be of help,” she nods to the door with a grin, “Now go catch some sleep, you’re barely standing upright.”  
You shake your head in agreement, an equally embarrassed and grateful smile on your face. You were almost out the door, when she called your name again, a mischievous glint in her eyes.  
“If you really want to improve, I'd suggest training with actual people rather than getting beat up by a plastic dummy.”  
You groan, closing your eyes in embarrassment. Could the floor please just open up and swallow you now?  
“You saw that?”  
She let out a small laugh at your apparent discomfort.  
“Don’t feel bad. You picked the most ferocious dummy of all. But I do expect you to put up more of a fight when we train together tomorrow, understood?”  
You blinked in surprise.  
“You want to train with me?”  
“Of course,” she shrugged like the answer was obvious, “You said you had some things you needed to improve. I'm happy to help you. Fair warning though, I’m very competitive and will not go easy on you. So, bring your A-game and go catch some sleep now. You’ll need it.”  
You couldn’t keep the giddy smile off of your face if you tried.  
“Thank you, Ms- Natasha,” you amended. She acknowledged your thanks with a nod and finally shooed you out of the gym.
 The redhead was of great help outside the training rooms as well. Natasha did her best to help you settle in, making sure to include you in conversations, invite you to hangouts, and to scold the boys when they tried to pick on you. She was by far your closest friend and confidant, and with her help, you really got to know your fellow teammates.  
Finally, after weeks of rigorous training, it was time for your first mission as an Avenger. You had to admit that you were a bit nervous when the call came in, but you went into working mode pretty fast after the briefing. After all, this wasn’t your first mission ever. As a SHIELD agent, you had been a part of several high-risk operations. Still, this was a very special day for you.  
Natasha really hadn't been kidding when she told you she was hard to train with. Every day she pushed you to your limits and you left the gym hurting in places that you never knew could hurt. But she also helped you hone your skills to perfection. With the Black Widow as your mentor, you really could see some great improvements.  
Tony was already in the quinjet when you arrived, working on making the plane ready for take-off. Being able to put on his armor in a matter of seconds, it didn’t take long for him to suit up.  
“That was fast,” he commented as you came closer, shooting you one of trademark Stark smirks, “But I wouldn’t have expected anything else from you. Nervous about your first mission, rookie? Tell you what, you make it out without needing a visit to the ER afterward and I'll buy you a celebratory drink. Deal?”  
You ignore his proffered hand, cocking your head to the side.  
“You really think it’s going to go that bad?”  
“It’s nothing personal,” he assured you, “Things happen, you're new, it's your first time...You know what? How about instead of a drink, I'll let you take one of my suits for a ride?”  
You opened your mouth to reply but were stopped by a familiar voice behind you.  
She returned your smile, before turning a glare on the billionaire.  
“Don’t listen to him, you’re gonna do fine."
You turned around to smile at Nat as she entered the jet, followed closely by Steve and Wanda.  
“And you, stop trying to scare her and get your ass to the pilot seat.”  
Tony raised his hands in mock-surrender and walked to the cockpit, muttering something about a mother hen under his breath. Nat squeezed your shoulder, pulling you towards the seats.  
“You got everything, right? Your weapons? Comms?”  
You rolled your eyes at her worried tone.  
“This isn’t my first mission, you know? I'm fine.”
She nodded with a good-natured smile.  
“Alright. We’ll still go over the mission details again together. Just to be sure.”  
With a sigh, you surrendered to your fate. The flight went by faster than you thought as you rehashed the plan together. Natasha was not satisfied until you were able to recite every step by heart. Which you did, easily. A good thing about her worry was that it took your mind off of your own nervousness. So, once you and the team left the quinjet, you were completely in the zone.  
You were joined in the field by Sam and Rhodes, who had flown in on their own and as you got into formation Steve uttered the two words you had been dreaming of hearing addressed to you for a while now.  
“Avengers assemble!”  
(Tony did end up having to buy you a post-mission drink.)  
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taglist: @fireflyglass @madamevirgo @xxxtwilightaxelxxx
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ohnopoe ¡ 3 years
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Potential Breakup Song | Jack Daniels
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Ship: Jack Daniels x Reader Summary: It’s your birthday, and all you want to do is have a few drinks with your boyfriend, but when he doesn’t show, your coworker, Jack, takes it upon himself to check on you Word Count: 2.2k+ Tagging: @the-purity-pen​  Author’s Note: Ok so this... idk how this happened tbh. BUT I’d kind of love to write more for these two, I have some slight ideas, but idk... so if you’d like to see something more please let me know!
Sitting there alone at the little booth you had claimed over an hour earlier certainly wasn’t how you had expected the evening to go. You had been happy, excited even, when you finally grabbed your coat to leave Statesmen for the day, readying yourself for a proper, fun night out with your boyfriend.
Sure, you’d had to remind him twice already to meet you at the little bar you liked that was not far from work, and sure maybe it would have been fun to invite some friends too, but this was your birthday, and even having a few drinks with your man seemed better than nothing.
But the day had seemed to drag on, as if it knew you were anticipating the well-needed break.
With every knock on the door, a part of you couldn’t help but hope for something, although you couldn’t quite tell what.
Would it have been nice if your coworkers had realised what day it was? Sure. But then, hiding it off facebook had been your decision, and you couldn’t truly blame them for not knowing when you were so careful about keeping things separate between work and home. But with each interruption to your work came a following disappointment. Reports were required, devices needed testing, and not one person seemed to have anything but more work to add to your pile.
Dread was dancing in your periphery, but you refused to give into it.
You had decided this. You had been the one to do that damn stupid idea and hide your information in some desperate plea that someone would remember you even without the irritating little notification Facebook offered. You couldn’t blame others for your own actions, no matter how much it hurt to feel so damned forgotten on your birthday of all things.
But, as you sat alone in the booth at your favourite bar, well, that dread sure was starting to egg away at you.
Another glance at your phone, a silent reminder of just how long you’d been waiting along with the lack of any explanation, only helped solidify your negativity. What if he wasn’t coming? What if he’d forgotten too?
The drink you’d been nursing for the better part of an hour sat before you, the ice had melted into the mix, making it weak and watery as you took a hesitant sip once more. If he wasn’t there by the time you finished, you’d leave. That’s what you’d said to yourself some thirty minutes ago when the drink had arrived. But even you could see you were drawing out the inevitable now, taking slow sips in the hopes of prolonging what little chance there was.
“Either that’s the worst damn drink you’ve ever had, or somethin’s on your mind,” a familiar voice almost cooed from above you, amusement tangling with something you couldn’t quite place as the silhouette of Agent Whiskey blocked out a good portion of the bar.
Offering a half hearted smile, you took a determined gulp of the drink in your hand, stubbornly meeting his gaze as you did so. There was always something about the agent that brought out a fierce competitive side in you, and maybe it was the sheer determination to not appear as pathetic as you felt, but you found yourself offering a smirk as you placed it down on the table without a word, silently challenging him.
“Alright, maybe not,” he offered a chuckle, lips pulling into a smile and drawing out that dimple that caught far too much attention.
“Something I can help you with, Whiskey?” and damn it, that didn’t come off half as harsh as you had hoped. Hell, it didn’t even come off sarcastic. The usual fire in your tone seemed lost, and you could only hope he didn’t hear the way your voice broke ever so slightly with the question.
You weren’t used to this. You’d kept your private life private for a reason, kept yourself away from the work functions and the celebratory drinks in the hopes of distancing yourself from the people you worked with for the most part, and now, having him in front of you out in the real world, when you were already so damn close to breaking… it wasn’t something you were quite prepared for.
“You looked like you could use some company,” he answered simply with a shrug, and if his eyes hadn’t blazed with that intensity you’d seen so often when he was in the field, you might just have believed he was as nonchalant as he attempted to appear.
But his statement brought another thought, more harrowing than the last, and you had to take another sip of your drink to wet your suddenly dry throat as it plagued you.
“How long have you been watching me?”
With a sigh, that playful smirk you’d seen so often slipped from his lips. With a quick point to the opposite side of the booth, he waited until you nodded your consent before slipping in with yet another sigh, but still he didn’t answer your question.
“Don’t see you around here often,” and it almost sounded like a line, were it not for the curious way his gaze took you in as he spoke.
Your shrug was an attempt at something casual, but you knew he was too damn good at reading people to fall for that. “Maybe it wasn’t my idea,” it was. “Maybe someone asked me here,” they didn’t.
But he seemed to read more from your words than you thought you had offered, his attention falling from you to the drink in your hand, before darting around the room and landing on the door.
“Well, he’s a damn fool to leave you waiting,” he huffed, and, while you still felt on edge being around the agent you worked with day in and day out, a small, albeit genuine, smile broke through your demeanour.
It was just a line, just a statement anyone would make upon hearing someone had potentially been stood up. Your mind was screaming at you to remember that it didn’t truly hold the weight you desperately wished it did. But your heart clung to those words.
Were you really this desperate for someone to actually care about you on your birthday that you were clinging to hollow words said out of propriety? Damn, maybe you were. Maybe Ginger had been right all along, you really should go out with her some time, maybe having some real friends at work wouldn’t be all that bad after all.
“Alright, what about this,” Jack broke your harrowing line of thought with that charming smile he had down pat. “I buy you a drink, we relax, have a good time… if he shows, he shows, and I’ll leave y’all to it, if not, well, hopefully I’m not the worst company.”
A laugh, the first you’d managed all day, escaped your lips as you shook your head at the cowboy’s poor attempt at humility.
“Why would you do that?” the question sounded meeker than you would have liked, and you had to glance away when his confused gaze met yours. But the bar was filled with distractions, even if it wasn’t particularly busy, and you quickly clung to them as you regained some sort of a backbone. “You know damn well half the bar is eyeing you off, you don’t need to waste your evening on me, Jack.”
If his breath caught at hearing your slip up, hearing you utter his name for the first time in far too long, well, he was damn good at hiding it behind that playful smirk. But there was still that shine to his gaze as he watched you so intently that you could feel it even as you focused on swirling the small remainders of your drink.
“And leave you to this lot?” he questioned playfully, raising a brow as he gestured around you both comically. “Honey, I know all too well what these types would do to a pretty lil thing like you, all alone.”
“You would know,” you scoffed a laugh, and, damn it, how was it so easy to relax around him? You’d known him for years, sure, but never personally, always keeping that carefully concocted professional appearance in place.
“Darlin’, are you implying something here?” there it was, that playful lilt to his tone that he always seemed to offer at just the right time, almost cracking your hard exterior more times that you’d care to admit.
“You forget, Whiskey,” you pause, giving him a pointed look that didn’t quite have its usual impact as your lips desperately struggled to hide that playful smile that wanted to break free. “I’ve been on the other end of the comms during far too many of your missions. I know all too well what you’re capable of.”
The smirk he gave in response held a twinge of danger, his eyes lighting up as he leant forwards just enough to capture your full attention. This was a side of Jack you had seen through his glasses many times, a side he hadn’t shown you since you shot him down cold at the very beginning of your working together, and it was a side that could thrill even the most cold hearted of individuals, you were sure.
“Oh, darlin’, you have no idea.”
Well, that certainly shouldn’t have affected you as much as it did.
You’d been working with Whiskey for years now, you knew all too well what he was like, how much he liked to flirt and mess around. You’d watched through his glasses camera on numerous occasions as he flirted his way into the beds of targets, each time rolling your eyes to yourself because you’d surely never fall for something so cheesy.
But then, you’d always been safely seeing things from his perspective, hadn’t you? You’d never seen that intense gaze he offered along with those words, never watched as his tongue darted out to wet those plush lips… damn, maybe you weren’t as strong as you had always thought.
“Babe, hey!” a puffed out breath came from beside you, drawing your attention away from the perfect cupid’s bow that was hidden behind that neatly trimmed moustache.
You almost jumped at the sound, turning quickly to see your boyfriend standing there, looking none too happy to see you sitting there with another man, and, despite the fact you’d been waiting for, was that two hours now?, you felt guilt creep in.
“Hey!” you offered the brightest smile you could, even if it felt somewhat off as you glanced between the two men.
They couldn’t have been more different if they tried. One, the epitome of the suave cowboy, the other in what he so affectionally labelled ‘prime casual fashion’, or, as you secretly called it, jumped up t-shirts that had no right to charge as much as they did. Jack was leaning back in the booth, exuding comfort and confidence, while your boyfriend stood there glancing between you and Jack with a tense jaw. In fact, the only similarity between the two seemed to be the intense fire that sat in their gazes as they eyed one another up.
Oh good, yet another display of stupid macho masculinity. With a roll of your eyes, you cleared your throat, quickly gaining the attention of the silently feuding men. “Jack, this is my boyfriend, Tim-”
“Timothy,” Tim interjected, standing up even straighter, as if the use of his full name would hold some form of power.
Closing your eyes to avoid rolling them once more as you watched him look down his nose at Whiskey, you ignored the interruption. “Tim,” you started once more, more than a hint of irritation in your tone at the fact the same man who had left you waiting for so long was now trying to play some kind of stupid game. “This is Jack, we work together.”
It seemed the two didn’t particularly care about introductions, or, for that matter, manners, as they continued to stare at one another in silence for a long moment.
“I’ll leave y’all to it,” Jack spoke suddenly, breaking the tense atmosphere with a nod as he moved far too smoothly out of the booth. How he always seemed to move with such elegance had often caused you to wonder. It didn’t seem to match the macho cowboy exterior he gave off, but worked so seamlessly when he was in a fight. It was a part of him, small and subtle, that had caught your attention more times than it ought.
Only when Tim sidled up next to you, pushing you further into the booth did your mind fall back to reality with a frown. Words were already falling out of his mouth, mentions of his day, of the clients he had dealt with, and not a word of apology for how late he was, and that same resignation you had felt earlier seemed to sweep over you once more.
“Happy birthday, Y/N,” Jack spoke softly, the words somehow a farewell. His smile was gentle as he met your surprised gaze.
And then, just as suddenly as he had appeared, he was gone, leaving the bar’s doors swaying after him as your boyfriend clambered for your attention.
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avengerscompound ¡ 4 years
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The Surrogate - Chapter 4
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The Surrogate:  A Clintasha Fanfic
Masterlist PREVIOUS //
Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Clint Barton x Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader
Word Count:  1813
Rating:  E
Warnings: Blood and Serious Injures, talk of past miscarriage and red room fuckery.
Synopsis: A freak end of the world incident leads to meeting your two best friends, Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff.  While your friendship with the two Avengers is anything but conventional, they are your all-time favorite people.  When you find out that Clint and Natasha want to start a family but have exhausted all their options, you realize your powerset might allow you to give them what they want.  Having your best friends’ baby might seem like a good idea on paper, but when you are as close as you, Clint, and Natasha are, will doing something so intimate mean feelings get a little mixed up?
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Chapter 4
“We could use a healer over here!”
Clint’s voice had come over comms, and you looked around the area trying to figure out where ‘here’ actually was.  You eventually spotted both him and Natasha with a group of children, sheltering under a bridge.
You took a quick looked around, and ran out from your hiding spot, vaulting over a stone fence as you charged in the direction of Clint and Natasha.  Gunfire immediately broke out and you caught a bullet in the side.  It slowed you for a moment as a hot pain flared out and then died back off.  By the time you reached Natasha and Clint, the only sign that you had been shot at all was a hole in your catsuit and some already drying blood.
“Think this might be above your abilities,” Natasha said.  She was cradling a young boy, and when you moved closer she moved her hand showing you where their leg now had broken exposed bone.
“Fuck,” you cursed, crouching down.
“She said a bad word,” a very young girl said.
“She sure did.  And right now you all have special Avengers’ permission to say as many bad words as you know,” Clint said, as he loosed a couple of arrows. “Ready… set… go.”
The group of children all broke out into random cursing and you looked at Natasha.  “I’m gonna try blood.  Pray to Thor that we match.  Can you get that bone back into alignment?”
Natasha nodded.  “Okay, malysh,” Natasha soothed and took one of her lives out of its leather holsters.  “This is going to hurt a lot.  But I need you to be very brave for me and hold as still as you can.  And when we’re done, we’ll make sure you get home safe with your family.  I promise.”
He nodded weakly and she held the leather holster to his lips.  “Bite down on this, little one.”
The boy bit down into the leather and Natasha quickly snapped the bones back into place with a loud and gut turning crack.  The boy screamed into the holster and passed out. You took the knife that the holster homed and cut open your arm.
You had been part of the Avengers for over three years now.  One mission had turned into many and you had gone from being a new recruit to a full-fledged agent.  You settled into life at the compound and the memory of a time where you were scared and didn’t know exactly how you could use your powers to help people.
You had friends and a routine and you dated on and off and when you were off you would hook up with Natasha and Clint because they were just that little bit too hard to resist.  Especially when you’d just gone through a breakup.  You considered them your best friends and you loved their relationship dynamic.  They were hilarious together and their way of showing affection was so perfectly them.
Most of your missions were with one or the other or both.  The closeness had made you be able to work like a well-oiled machine together, being able to predict each other’s patterns and counter each other.  This particular mission was a big one though.  A small town in the Midwest had been attacked by domestic terrorists and the whole team had been sent out to stop it.
As your blood mixed with the boy’s, nothing seemed to happen.  You cursed the stupid limitations of your powers and you were just about to let your own wound close back up when you noticed the bones and flesh knitting back together on the boy’s leg.  You had to keep twisting the knife in your own wound to keep the blood flowing and your hand was beginning to shake from the pain.  As the wound closed you let go of the knife and your own cut rapidly healed.  Color returned to his skin and his eyes fluttered open.
“Thank Thor,” Clint sighed.  He turned back to look at the kids like he was planning what the next move should be and there was a crack from a bolt of lightning behind him, making him jump
“You can save the thanks for when I have actually helped,” Thor teased, playfully.  “Come, your extraction has arrived.”
A huge armored vehicle pulled up at the bridge and the side opened.  Clint ran to the side of the truck and began loosing arrows out past it, creative cover.
“Come, little ones,” Natasha said.  “Onto the truck.”
You and she herded the children into the vehicle, carrying the injured boy into the back and putting him on a stretcher.  When you were all safe inside, Clint climbed in and pulled the door closed behind him.
“Hold tight,” the agent driving called back.  Clint sat down on one of the benches as the truck took off much faster than you expected.
“How close are we to being done with this?”  You asked as a little girl climbed up into Clint’s lap and clung to him.  He wrapped an arm around her and held her steady as the truck bounced over the rough terrain.
“Captain Rogers is mounting an assault on the last remaining group now.  Shouldn’t be much longer,” the agent called back.  “You were the last group that had been cornered by them.”
“Thank god,” you sighed and let your head fall back against the wall of the truck.  You immediately regretted it, as it banged against metal.
You sat back up and watched Clint with the little girl.  She had calmed down and was gradually drifting off to sleep against him.
“Clint looks really good with kids,” you whispered to Nat.
She nodded.  “Yeah, he’s a natural with them.  I think because he is basically a giant child.”
You snorted and bumped her with your shoulder. “You were good with them too.  You guys gonna have kids someday?”
Natasha frowned.  “Can’t,” she said, trying to keep her voice neutral, but the slight strain giving away her pain.  “We want to.  But… the Red Room did something to me.  Having children creates weakness, so they sterilized me.  But… not… I mean… I have been pregnant but it ended up in a late-term miscarriage.”
“I’m so sorry, Natasha,” you said.  If it was anyone else you would have wrapped your arms around them and let them be weak.  Natasha would rather stab herself in the eye than let that happen though, so instead, you leaned against her a little, hoping that your weight might be comforting and allow her to be strong.  “Have you ever considered adoption?  Or surrogacy?”
She nodded.  “Surrogacy is out, it’s something about the genes.  They have a self destruct in them.  We applied to adopt but were told in no uncertain terms that no one is allowing an ex Russian-assassin adopt a child.”
“That fucking sucks,” you said, not quite sure what else you could say.  It did fucking suck and you wished there was something you could do.  You weren’t used to hearing that crack of pain in her voice.  It was akin to seeing Wanda in actual tears.
Natasha laughed softly.  “Yeah.  It does.  I’d love to be a mother.  But I guess for me, that isn’t to be.  I have escaped what the Red Room did to me.  I’ve tried making up for it.  I send money to the families of my victims.  I save people.  But they will always have this over me.”  She sighed and looked over at Clint.  “He says he’s okay with it.  I know that he would never complain about missing out, but I hate that my past has taken this from him too.  When he called me to tell me he met a healer that day when he met you, I got a little excited.  I thought… I hoped maybe you could undo what they did to me.  But that’s not how your powers work.”
You shook your head.  “I’m sorry.”
She rubbed your thigh.  “Not your fault.  You didn’t do this to me. They did,” she said. “Just have to accept that maybe after everything I did, I have to just be happy with the ending I get.  I am lucky I have him.  It’s enough.”
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You couldn’t stop thinking about the things Natasha had said on the way back to base, through the cleanup, on the ride home, and through the entire debrief.  Your powers couldn’t help fix what had happened to her.  Even if you gave her a full blood transfusion they couldn’t fix something that had been done to her so long ago.  You needed an exchange of fluids and it to be fresh.
Normally a surrogate wouldn’t work because whatever they’d done kicked in late on in the pregnancy due to genes.  But if you were the one that was pregnant, the issue wouldn’t be old, your powers would be here, correcting mistakes and potential health issues before they happened, and as far as fluids, they’d be soaking in them, and sharing your blood supply.  You didn’t know for sure if it would work, but the more you thought about it the more you were sure it would.
You thought about what it would be like having a baby for someone else.  It took a special kind of person to agree to put their body through that for almost a year and then to give that baby up.  It wasn’t for everyone and it would be hard, both physically and emotionally.  Clint and Natasha were your best friends and you might be the only chance they had to have kids together.  If you could give them that, you wanted to try.
After the debrief, everyone scattered to their rooms or apartments to sleep it off.  You couldn’t turn your mind off and so after half an hour of pacing your room, you went to Natasha and Clint’s apartment and knocked on the door.
Clint answered the door and looked you up and down, grinning.  “You didn’t get enough of us this week?”  He teased.
“I just… I wanted to…” You shook your head and took a deep breath.
“No offense, dorogáya,” Natasha said, coming over to the door.  “It’s been a long week and Clint and I just want to have some couple-time.”
“Right, yeah.  I’ll leave you to it,” you said, tapping your hands nervously on your thighs.  “I just… I wanted to say…”  You took a deep breath and let it out in a huff.  “Let me do it.”
“Let you do what?”  Clint said, putting his arm around your shoulder.  “Babe, what’s wrong?  You’re so worked up.”
Your eyes flicked between Clint and Natasha.  You didn’t know why you were so nervous.  This was a nice offer.  If they said no then they said no.  “Natasha,” you said.  “Nat.  Let me carry your baby.”
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// NEXT
214 notes ¡ View notes
sohotthateveryonedied ¡ 4 years
Text
We Dream in the Dark, for the Most Part
Read here on AO3!
Summary:
Jason is in the middle of lathering his hair with shampoo when suddenly the lights go out, leaving him in darkness. An instinctive chill runs down his spine, only to be replaced with annoyance. Of course. Beyond the shower spray, he can hear Lian shriek in fear, followed by Roy muttering curses.
Jason sighs. “Roy?” he calls.
“Handling it!”
It was a grueling patrol, but Jason is relieved to be home. He missed having Roy by his side tonight, but their usual babysitter, Mrs. Peterson from next door, came down with pneumonia yesterday and canceled. She doesn’t seem to have any idea that her neighbors are vigilantes, but they pay her enough that she doesn’t ask. Lian is coloring at the coffee table while Jason toes off his boots, leaving them at the front door. She’s wearing her fluffy Stitch pajamas, which she’s been practically living in for the last week and a half. “Hey, princess.” Jason drops a kiss on top of her head as he passes. “Where’s your dad?” “In the kitchen. He’s playing with the electricity again.” “Oh, good. Because, you know, I was actually hoping our place would explode, just to spice things up.” Lian giggles. “Has he fed you yet?” She shakes her head, her black pigtails swinging back and forth. “Nope. But he promised me special sushi if I cleaned up all my books.” Jason will never understand Lian’s passion for her “special sushi,” which is just deli ham slathered in strawberry yogurt and rolled up like a spring roll from hell. Jason gets nauseated just thinking about it, but the kid loves the stuff. “And did you clean up?” Lian points over at the bookshelf against the wall. They don’t have a huge apartment by any means, but Jason insisted on dedicating an entire wall to his books. That was one of the conditions when Roy first asked Jason to move in with him and Lian. It took weeks of finagling to convince Jason to relinquish a small section of the bookshelf for Lian’s picture books, which are indeed all in their right places. “Then it looks like you’ve earned your sushi, little miss. I’m gonna shower first and then I’ll make it for you, alright?” “I can make it by myself.” Jason snorts. “After what happened last time? I don’t think so.” It was his own fault for thinking a five-year-old could prepare her own food. It took a solid hour to scrub the yogurt stains out of the carpet. Jason pokes his head in the kitchen on his way to the bathroom. “Tell me you’re not burning the building down.” “Okay, then I’m not burning the building down,” Roy says around the screwdriver trapped between his teeth. He stands in front of what was once a light switch, tinkering with something that he most definitely should not be tinkering with, but Jason is picking his battles today.
“I’m not going to bother telling you that you’re on your second strike with the landlord. If he has to come up here again, I’m not defending you.” “You know what I miss? The old days when people would greet each other by saying things like, ‘hi, sweetie, how was your day?’ ‘Oh, it was lovely, darling. How about a kiss after spending hours apart and missing each other dearly?’ ‘Babe, it’s like you read my mind!’ You know, stuff like that?” Jason arches an eyebrow. “I’ve got mobster blood caked in my hair. Still want a hello kiss?” “Not really, no. Go shower.” “Try not to blow a fuse in the meantime, please.” Roy salutes with his screwdriver. “Aye, aye, captain.” Jason goes to the bathroom and relishes in the feeling of peeling off his armor and the bodysuit underneath, every layer soaked with sweat and blood. It’s a good thing his Red Hood getup is all dark colors, or he’d have scarred Lian for life ten times over already. He turns the shower knob as hot as it’ll go, letting his muscles slowly unravel under the spray. He takes his time scrubbing off the blood and dirt, whistling some shitty pop song that Dick paid Barbara to blast through the comms all. Night. Long. Jason has plans to add that to his repertoire of torture techniques if he ever needs some extra edge. It’s definitely effective. Jason is in the middle of lathering his hair with shampoo when suddenly the lights go out, leaving him in darkness. An instinctive chill runs down his spine, only to be replaced with annoyance. Of course. Beyond the shower spray, he can hear Lian shriek in fear, followed by Roy muttering curses. Jason sighs. “Roy?” he calls. “Handling it!” Another sigh. This is what he gets for leaving Roy alone. It’s Jason’s own fault, really. He quickly rinses the shampoo from his hair and leaves the bathroom, and towel wrapped around his waist. He navigates the pitch black apartment and finds Roy lighting a match in the kitchen. He’s got Lian tucked in one arm. “What did I say?” Jason asks. “I know, I know—” “I said not to blow a fuse. That was your one job.” “Technically, I didn’t blow a fuse. I just overloaded the circuit and cut off the electricity for the whole building.” Jason smacks himself in the forehead. “Wonderful.” Remind him again why he’s in love with this man? “I’m sure it’ll be fixed in no time.” “You can’t see it, but I’m rolling my eyes.” “You’re overreacting. It’s just a little blackout.” “We have ice cream in the freezer.” “I’ll buy more.” Jason runs a hand through his wet hair. “You’re killing me, babe. Again.” “It’s just one night without power, right? I’m sure it’ll come back on in the morning.” He bounces Lian a little, who’s got her face buried in Roy’s neck. Poor thing is terrified of the dark. “What do you think, pumpkin? You think you can be brave for one little night in the dark?” “I don’t like it. It’s scary.” “I know it is, sweetheart. But do you want to know a secret?” He leans in close to her ear, mock-whispering, “Jaybird over here is afraid of the dark too.” Lian looks at Jason with wide eyes. “Really?” Roy nods. “Yep. But you know what? He’s so brave and strong that he overcame that fear and now it hardly bothers him anymore. Do you think you can be brave like that?” “I can be super brave.” “That’s my girl. Not, sit here for a minute, ‘kay?” He sets her down on the arm of the sofa. The match has fizzled out by now, leaving them in complete darkness. “I know I have some scented candles around here somewhere. Dinah keeps getting them as gifts and pushes them on me when she doesn’t like them.” Jason’s eyes widen. “Wait, watch out for the—” Roy trips with a shout, glass shattering as he falls. “—coffee table.” Roy just groans in response. “Hang on, let me get a light.” Jason makes his way to the drawer they keep the emergency flashlight in. He turns on the beam to show Roy on the floor, surrounded by glass shards and clutching his leg. There are several small cuts peppering his knee like he crawled on a beach made of broken bottles. Jason gasps. “Oh my god, Roy! You broke Lian’s crayons!” Roy flips him off, angling his hand so Lian can’t see. “I’m fine, thanks for asking.” Jason helps him up and hands him the flashlight. “Lian, honey, will you help him get to the couch? I need to put some clothes on.” And he’s almost positive there’s another flashlight somewhere in Roy’s nightstand. They’re going to need all the light they can get. Jason gets dressed and retrieves the flashlight, plus one of Lian’s Disney princess glow sticks. When he returns, Roy is on the couch with his leg propped up on what remains of their coffee table. Lian is shining the flashlight on her tiny first-aid kit which Kori gave her last Christmas. She sifts through her collection of band-aids. “One to ten?” “Barely a two,” Roy says. “I already dug the glass out, and none were deep enough to need stitches.” Jason checks him over anyway, just to be sure. He wipes away the blood and applies some ointment over the cuts. He turns to Lian when he’s finished. “Can I trust you to finish this up while I make dinner?” She nods enthusiastically. Perfect. Lian can keep herself busy plastering Roy in Hello Kitty bandages, and Jason will have time to figure out what the hell they’re doing, food-wise. “How do you expect to make dinner without electricity?” Roy asks, reading his mind yet again. “What, did you never have to eat cold leftover pizza in your million-dollar mansion growing up? Weird.” He dodges the pillow Roy throws his way, laughing. “Those jokes don’t count when you also grew up in a million-dollar mansion.” Thirty minutes later and the three of them are sitting on the couch, Roy and Jason eating cold mushroom casserole while Lian enjoys her ham and yogurt. Once you get over the temperature difference, cold casserole turns out to be just as tasty as hot casserole. Gordon Ramsey should take notes. Jason managed to track down the candles Roy was talking about earlier and set them in various places around the living room, lighting the room in a dim glow. It’s not perfect lighting by any means—not even good lighting, really, but at least no one will be falling into another coffee table anytime soon. Roy’s knee is covered in Hello Kitty band-aids, some of which are in spots that weren’t even cut up by the glass. Roy doesn’t seem to mind. Jason took a picture for potential blackmail reasons. “I’m bored,” Lian says after a while. “You could always go to bed,” Roy suggests, “given that your bedtime was fifteen minutes ago but your daddies are nice enough to let you stay up this long.” “That was nice of us,” Jason agrees. “I think we’ve earned a quiet night to ourselves.” Lian pouts. She grabs Jason’s arm, clinging to his bicep like a koala. “But it’s dark in my room.” “It’s dark in there every night.” “It’s really dark tonight. Can I stay here with you instead?” Her eyes are big and innocent, perfectly disguising the mischief lurking within. This girl could be a successful con artist one day. (Not that Jason or Roy will ever let that happen. She’s going to grow up and become a veterinarian or something equally harmless.) Roy and Jason meet eyes, having a silent conversation over Lian’s head. Finally, Roy sighs. “Fine. You can stay up with us a little longer, but only because of the blackout, okay? Don’t go thinking that this trick is going to work tomorrow night.” Lian claps her hands, bouncing in her seat. “Can I have coffee?” “Absolutely not.” She isn’t deterred in the slightest. “This is gonna be so fun! We can stay up all night long, even past midnight and three o’clock which is when the ghosts come out.” “Ghosts, huh?” Jason says. “Yeah, Aunt Stephanie told me all about it! Three o’clock is when the witching hour happens and witches and ghosts come out like Bloody Mary and Freddie Cougar and they call come into your house and walk around but you can only see them if you’re awake, which I’m gonna be because I’m not even tired, I could stay up all night long and for a million, bazillion years, and—” She lasts seven minutes. Lian is fast asleep now with her head in Roy’s lap, her tiny feet dangling off the arm of the sofa. Jason drapes a blanket over her, kissing her on the forehead. He’s careful not to jostle Roy’s bandaged leg as he takes a seat beside him, putting his arm around Roy’s shoulders. “Well, I’m fucking exhausted.” “It’s cool if you want to go to bed,” Roy says. “I don’t mind sticking around here with Lian until the power comes back on.” “Nah, it’s fine. I like it better in here, anyway.” In here, where the light is. Roy doesn’t comment on the hidden meaning that he definitely catches on to, and Jason loves him for it. He just kisses Jason’s cheek, settling against his side. Jason doesn’t mention the darkness thing often. Or at all. After all, grown men don’t get scared of the dark—especially when they live in a place like Gotham and were raised in a literal cave. But if Lian insists on having the hallway light on in addition to the night light next to her bed, then Jason isn’t about to discourage her. Roy never says a word about it. Every night he keeps the door to his and Jason’s bedroom cracked open just enough so a sliver of hallway light floods in, and it’s good for both of them, really. Jason feels safer with the light on, and they both feel safer being able to hear every creak and draft in the apartment, falling asleep knowing that nothing will sneak up on them. Even when Jason was living on his own, post-resurrection, he always kept a lamp on when he went to sleep in whichever safehouse he was squatting in that night. Back before he had a place to call home. On especially bad nights, he would turn on the lights in every single room, even the one in the microwave. Only then could he sleep soundly. He can’t exactly do that now, but he doesn’t need to. Whenever his head gets too heavy to bear, he’ll simply wrap his arms around Roy and fall back asleep to the sound of Roy’s heart beating under his ear. He falls back asleep in minutes. Jason isn’t entirely sure what caused the light issue in the first place. Sometimes he can’t remember if it arose before or after he was adopted by Bruce. Other times he’s sure it’s lingering trauma from the coffin, from waking up in pitch blackness six feet underground. No bearings, no sense of what was happening or where he was. The only thing in there with him was the thick, cloying darkness on every side of him. Jason shivers just thinking about it. “We should get her a new night light,” he says. “Battery powered, not a plug-in. It would be a good investment if you ever try destroying our electricity again.” Roy hums. “We can pick one up tomorrow. I need to take her clothes shopping anyway. And it might be a good idea to have a couple for the living room and bathroom so we don’t have a repeat of tonight.” “Good idea.” God, Jason’s craving a cigarette right now. Every nerve in his body urges him to get one and soothe the anxiety buzzing in his brain, but he has a rule against smoking in the apartment or anywhere near Lian. He’d settle for a beer instead, whatever keeps the buzzing at bay, but he doesn’t drink at home either out of respect for Roy’s sobriety. He’s stuck. Roy must notice Jason’s twitching fingers because he reaches into his pocket, careful not to wake Lian as he pulls out a stick of nicotine gum. “Here.” Jason unwraps the gum and shoves it in his mouth. He takes a deep breath in as he chews, letting it out slowly. It takes the edge off some, but not completely. Still, it’s better than nothing. “You’re just carrying these on you now?” "Came in handy, didn't it?" “And I thought Bruce was the king of being prepared for everything.” Jason straightens the wrapper until it’s flat like a card. He holds it over the nearest candle until it catches, watching the flame consume the paper, eating away at its edges. He blows it out just before it gets too close to his fingers. “When I was a kid,” he says after a minute, “my mom and I used to light candles like these. The heat would get turned off pretty often since she was usually too high to remember what day it was, let alone when the bills needed to be paid. But whenever it happened, she would send me to the store with a couple dollars and I’d buy a bag of marshmallows. We’d roast them over the candles and pretend we were camping.” “That sounds nice.” “It was. I mean, now I realize that it’s actually really fucking sad that we had to resort to candles ‘cause my mom wasted all her cash on drugs and couldn’t pay the heating bill. But at the time, it was nice. It’s one of the few good memories I have of that time.” He feels more than sees Roy’s fingers lacing through his own, clasping their hands together. “I was telling the truth earlier, you know. You’re brave and strong and badass all the way.” Jason snorts. “Even if I get freaked out every time the lights go out?” Roy doesn’t laugh with him. “Yeah, even then. And you know why?” He rests his head on Jason’s shoulder, lets Jason feel his warmth. “Because of all the things to be afraid of, you picked the one that can be fixed by just turning the lights on. Once you do that, there’s nothing left in the world that can scare you. And that’s pretty damn badass if you ask me.”
81 notes ¡ View notes
skzsauce01 ¡ 4 years
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In Fair Verona︹Chapter 2
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Synopsis: Jisung knows he is the Romeo to your Juliet. He could wax poetry about you all throughout rehearsal and even a little after. Except Hwang Hyunjin is the one playing Romeo in the school play, not him. Jisung is just another tech crew member that you don’t know, but he’s determined to win your heart... by any means necessary.
Warning: none... yet
Word Count: 2.2k
Pairing: fem!reader x Jisung; fem!reader x Hyunjin
updates every Wednesday and Sunday @ 11 PM PST︹chapter list
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O Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo?
Deny thy father and refuse thy name,
Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,
And I’ll no longer be a Capulet.
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Jisung is waiting for fourth period to begin and homeroom announcements to be over when he overhears two girls discussing the play. He stops doodling in the margins of his notebook once he hears you being mentioned.
“She’s so lucky! She gets to kiss Hwang Hyunjin!” the one with the ponytail exclaims.
So that’s Romeo’s name. He makes a mental note to look him up on Facebook and Instagram later.
Her voice then drops to a whisper. “I heard they kissed during in-class rehearsal.”
Jisung snorts and quickly disguises it as a sneeze. Stage kisses in school productions are almost always fake; based on his experience, there’s usually a hand hiding obscuring the kiss, so the actors get as close as possible without actual contact.
“She’s so lucky,” the other girl sighs. “Oh, Y/N, Y/N! Why did you have to get the part of Juliet and not me?” she dramatically says.
Jisung silently agrees but for a totally different reason and goes back to drawing sunbursts when the conversation turns into a debate about who would be the second best choice for Romeo.
Jisung leaves his belongings in the green room after school and sits with Chan behind the soundboard while he waits for rehearsal to start. Chan is busy with testing new sound effects and new music choices, so Jisung scrolls through Hwang Hyunjin’s Instagram. He only finds food pictures and some videos of him dancing. Nothing incriminating.
“Hey, did you bring dinner today? Me, Felix, Changbin, and Jeongin were planning to go to the convenience store during dinner break,” Chan invites.
Jisung has a bowl of instant noodles and a thermos of hot water in his backpack. “I’ve got food already.”
“Ah, next time then!”
“Actors! To your places!” comes through on the loudspeaker, and Jisung hurries backstage. The balcony is being pushed back to the center of the stage already. He shimmies through the gap between the wall and the main curtain, trying not to trip on any cables. Changbin is sitting with his giant binder open and his headset on. He points to another headset on the table, and Jisung takes it and puts it on. The comms are already abuzz with bad jokes and the sounds of turning pages.
The side door opens, and you rush in, adjusting the circlet in your hair. Your lips close and part, and Jisung can only imagine the swears you’re mouthing. He wants to shout something encouraging, but that would only delay you. He also has no idea what he would say anyway. The floor lights for the cyclorama tint your whole body blue as you hurry to the stairs for the balcony. You make it to the top just in time.
Ms. Park tells Hyunjin to start from “She speaks.” To Jisung’s delight, Hyunjin has not improved from yesterday, and his delivery only is slightly better than monotone. Meanwhile, you look as crestfallen as you possibly can. You rest your cheek on one hand and gaze into the distance, which turns out to be the back of the auditorium where the soundboard and light board are. Romeo likens Juliet to an angel, and Jisung agrees —  you’re beautiful, bright, and out of his reach.
Hyunjin ends his lines, and it’s your turn to say the most famous line of the entire play: “O Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo?”
Your cries resonate with him; why did Hyunjin have to be Romeo? If he knew that you were going to audition for the lead role, he would have too. If the current Romeo managed to get the part, then he would have had no problem. He could have been the one looking up at you, telling the world how lovely he thought you were.
Though he’s far away and off to the side, he sees the way you glow as you recite your lines. Your passion radiates off of you, and Jisung gets a direct hit. He’s so enamored by you, he doesn’t even mind when Hyunjin poorly says his lines.
It’s like that for the rest of the scene. Jisung remains standing and watches you and Hyunjin flirt in Elizabethan English. Before the scene ends, Jisung detaches himself from the curtain and positions himself by the prop table. He pretends to be rearranging the props so that as soon as the lights go out and the tech crew members on stage left drag the balcony back into the wings, you speedily walk to the other wing where he is.
It’s strange to be excited by a mundane act, but that’s what love does, he supposes. He whispers, “Be careful of the cables,” at you.
“I know,” you whisper back. There’s no sharpness to it; it’s just a simple statement.
You brush past him, and your arm, raised from holding your skirt, knocks into his elbow. He stiffens, and you murmur an apology before leaving through the side door.
After a less than satisfactory scene four, the director decides it’s time for a dinner break. There’s a few cheers in the comms and an audible sigh of relief from the girl playing Nurse. Ms. Park reminds them that dinner will end at 6, so she expects them to be back in the auditorium by then. Changbin is already leaping out of his chair and running down the stairs on the side of the stage. Jisung imagines that Chan, Felix, Seungmin, and Jeongin are just as ready to eat; they were discussing what to buy for dinner right when the scene started.
Jisung follows the other members of the crew to the classroom for dinner. The room is just as crowded as before, and there’s a long line to use the microwave. Jisung squeezes through the groups of people and gets out his meal.
“That’s a smart idea,” a familiar voice comments. When he looks up from his water pouring, he sees that it’s you.
He looks at the glass container in your hands and realizes that you’re one of ones waiting to heat up your food. “Your dinner’s probably better though,” he lamely responds. His face begins to feel warm, and it’s not from the steam.
“It’s the slightly burnt fried rice I made three days ago,” you smile. “Wanna trade?”
He wants to say yes so badly. But it would be better to play it cool, right? The panic must have shown on his face since you laugh and say, “Knew it.”
The line shuffles forward and so do you. He turns back to his food, disappointed that he didn’t take you up on your offer. He likes fried rice.
(And you, but that’s only the tiniest bit relevant to his plight.)
He is halfway through his meal when the chair in front of him is pulled out. You sit and set your container down. He smells kimchi with a touch of smoke.
“Hi,” you say. The corner of your mouth quirks up. “Any chance you’re willing to trade?”
Jisung shakes his head, playing along. “I’m half way through mine already, sorry.”
“Darn.”
There’s a moment of silence before he decides to break it. “Your name’s Y/N, right?”
“Mhm.” You swallow your rice. “It’s kind of embarrassing to admit, but… I don’t actually know yours,” you slowly say. “And we’re eating together, which makes it doubly embarrassing.”
The way you say it makes Jisung’s heart pound. It’s like a date, but not really. “I’m Jisung.”
“The props guy, right?”
He shakes his head “I’m part of the floor crew. ”
“Oh! I saw you by the props earlier, so I thought you were. And you’re always watching the play, so I thought you were waiting for cues or something.”
A wide variety of curses appear in his mind. He can’t let you know the real reason why.
“No! I just really like Shakespeare,” he makes up. More unnecessary lies flow out. “Romeo and Juliet is a really great play. I love the plot and the characters. Speaking of, our play is going to be so great. You — I mean, the entire cast is perfect.”
You light up at the compliment, and Jisung swears he’s looking directly at the sun. “You think so?”
You’re far too amazing to be stupid, naive Juliet, but he nods his head anyway. “You’re a good actress.”
“How do you feel about Hyunjin then? Does he live up to your expectations?”
The brainless Romeo who only pursues Juliet out of lust? “Yeah. He’s exactly like Romeo.”
“Hyunjin will be happy to hear that,” you say. You glance at the clock, and Jisung does too. It’s only a few minutes away from six o’clock. “Dinner’s almost over. Darn, I need to get into costume, too.”
While you pick through the less appetizing portions of your meal, Jisung finishes the last of his noodles. Not a minute passes before you snap the lid back on the container and jump out of your seat. You hurriedly say goodbye and run out the door to the dressing room.
Jisung stays seated, processing what happened. Was it a friendly conversation or flirting? Did you eat dinner with him because you felt bad for him or because you were interested in him? He replays the last few minutes in his head. You started the conversation and chose to sit at his table, so it had to mean something. You joked with him and beamed at his compliment, but you also brought up Hyunjin and no one else. He sighs and leans back in his chair before someone yelling the time makes him jump out of it.
He helps set up the next scene before watching the play from stage right like before. He feels strangely betrayed when he hears how desperately you, as Juliet, want to hear Romeo’s message after getting his hopes up at dinner. His brain knows it’s not real, but his heart thinks otherwise. He paces in a small circle to try and get out his nervous energy. He stops after a minute and forces himself to think of something else. If he closes his eyes, he can pretend it’s him that you’re referring to; he’s the one you want to marry.
In his daydream, you stand in front of him in a white dress and a circlet instead of a veil. The bouquet of roses in your hand matches the glowing blush across your cheeks. You look up at him through your long lashes, and Jisung can barely hold himself together at the sight of you. His hand covers his mouth to stifle his soft sobs. You’re no different. With shaky breaths, you hold a piece of paper in front you and read your vows.
“... in sickness and health. I promise to love you until death do us part,” you manage to say through your tears.
The minister pronounces you husband and wife, and Jisung reaches out to cup your face. In reality though, he is only able to touch air. The pretty stained glass of the church is soon swallowed by the darkness of backstage. There’s no organ playing, only Changbin yelling at him in his ear to get ready for Act III.
The first scene of Act III features a poorly choreographed sword fight, two deaths, and not you. In other words, nothing of Jisung’s interests. Rehearsal ends after the scene is finished, and Jisung halfheartedly listens to the tech director’s notes. Like yesterday, he gets called out for not paying attention enough to calls. He once again promises to do better, but Mr. Gi and Changbin don’t look like they’re buying it. He really has to do better tomorrow.
When everyone is finally dismissed, Jisung goes back to the classroom in hopes of seeing you before he goes home. The actors are still receiving notes from the director, and it doesn’t seem like she’s going to be done soon. He tries to catch your eye while he grabs his belongings, but you’re fully listening to Ms. Park. To add to his disappointment, he notices that Hyunjin is sitting by you. Thus, Jisung “accidentally” opens his textbook, sending all his papers to the floor, hoping that you take notice. You do and give him a sympathetic smile.
He plays “Marry You” on the drive back home and sings along, thinking of you.
~ ad.gray
58 notes ¡ View notes
happy-beeeps ¡ 4 years
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I Don’t Do Droids pt. 3
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Read part 2 here!
Pairing: translator!reader x Din Djarin
Summary: Reader and Din finally make it to Devaron. She gets to use her skills as a translator and help him pick up the quarry, and she finally gets a moment to think to herself and maybe develop a crush on her Mandalorian partner. 
Warnings: firefight *very brief, no gore*, mentions of death, alcohol
WC: 2k
A/N: I think after this part i’m time jumping. I want them to develop their relationship so the *romance* can start. Also, I need yodito content. Next part is going to take place like right before/maybe during part of episode 1!
* * *
You land in Devaron not long after. You fell asleep somewhere between a gently teasing conversation and shortly before the Razor Crest sputters out of hyperspace, and you watched as Mando steered the ship towards the planet. It was lush, a warm green that seemed to light up the entire visor of the ship, with the foliage so bright it seemed to blind you beyond the transparisteel. As you neared the planet’s surface, the shapes of jungles, vines, trees, and warm duracrete temples poked out through leafy branches, and you smiled as you took in all the system had to offer. You hadn’t been off Coruscant in years, before that was spent in the hot and dry deserts of Tatooine. You were excited to stretch your mind and use the language skills you had acquired, that was a guarantee, but the promise of new travel and a new system couldn’t be ignored. Mando seemed to catch the glint in your eye as he spoke up, “Haven’t been off Coruscant in a while huh?”
“Can’t say I get out much, I’m sure you understand.” You chided back, resulting in the echoed chuckle underneath his helmet. “Sure, I suppose I do.”
He landed the ship amidst some of the heavy foliage, deep enough in the jungle that your ship was obscured by heavy branches, but not far enough that the walk to the last known location of the quarry was going to be too far a walk. You bounded down the ladder of the ship after him, and paused at the large metal doors of the armory. He paused and looked at you for a moment before handing you a small, yet powerful blaster. “Can you use this?” 
“Yes I can use it.”
“A stormtrooper can use it. But can you actually hit something?”
“I’m a better shot than a stormtrooper thank you.” “Well, let’s just hope it doesn’t come to that. You’re here to help me get information and then back on the ship.” You stared at him incredulously for a moment before sputtering a reply, “But, but I want to come! I can handle myself. What if you get stuck and can’t talk your way out?”
“I have a way with words.”
“Not in a language you don’t know you don’t.”
“Look, you’re not coming. I still don’t know if I trust you. Yet.” He added, and placed a gloved hand on your shoulder. “Just help me translate and find your way to the ship. Can I trust you to do that?”
“Fine.” You spat, crossing your arms over your chest. “Then bring me back something from the market. Since I can’t go anywhere.”
“We’ll see how you behave.” He said, and finished grabbing his blasters and shut the armory doors. He gestured toward the ramp of the ship, and opened the hatch, basking the hull in a warm sunlight. “After you.” He said, and you laughed in response and trudged out into the thick Devaron air. 
* * *
It had been not much under an hour of walking, and you’d be lying if you hadn’t let your mind wander under the silence of the walk. You watched the sunlight glint off of the beskar on his helmet and could feel your cheeks fill with a warm rosy blush, but you convinced yourself it was the humidity of the jungle. You knew that wasn’t entirely true, the warmth under your skin where he had touched you earlier had not subsided, and you spent the walk imagining the color of his eyes and the pout on his lips when you could tell he was grimacing at you. You imagined him as brown eyed, you couldn’t see him with blue or purple. Underneath the modulated beskar, his voice spoke of a warmth only brown eyes knew. You fixated on your fingers, picking dead skin around the dry spots of your nail. Mando seemed to notice you overthinking, and looked over at you. “What are you doing?”
“Keeping myself busy. Why?” “You’re dangerously quiet.”
“I’m thinking.” “Mmm,” he hummed, “not good.” You sent a scowl his way before continuing, “I’m making sure my Devaronese is fresh. I don’t want to misspeak. Devaron women are proud people.”
“Yes. I remember reading something about them, the men travel quickly after adolescence and move across the galaxy?”
“Yeah, they don’t stay too long in one place. Kinda like you.” You hushed almost as soon as you spoke. You had known this man for nearly two days, and something told you he didn’t like the tiny linguist at his side psycho-analyzing him. Instead, you were surprised when he murmured back, “Yes. Like me.”
After reaching the city, Mando was quick to pull out the fob and begin tracking his quarry. You looked around the village streets, beautiful architecture and overflowing bazaar booths sprung out at you, boasting fruits and silks as colorful as the lights you’ve seen outside your apartment days before. You smiled to yourself as you understood the lively chatter the women and older men spoke to each other, and watched as children spoke to each other in their native tongue, with bits of basic mixed in. You were brought back to reality by Mando grabbing your elbow with one leather covered hand, and gesturing to a building to your right. “It’s a bar.” You said, reading the sign above the door. “Makes sense.” He responded, and you followed him into the dark building. Inside it was cooler, a refresh from the humid air outside, and there was a large bar in the center of the room. Species of all kinds gathered around, some tucked into shaded booths while a few Twi’lek dancers turned in the corner of the room. It seemed less seedy than the bars near your home, or the ones you’ve been in on Tatooine, but the undercurrent of a dark bar was the same no matter what system you were on. Din gestured to the bartender nearest you, and you smiled sweetly up at the older Devaron man. “[Hello. Me and my partner are looking for a man. Can you help us?]” You spoke, biting your lips in anticipation, hoping you got your translation right. “[Ha! I don’t help anyone for free. You better buy a drink first.]” You looked over at Mando before saying, “He won't help until we buy a drink.” “Ok, tell him what you want.” He said, placing credits on the counter. You smiled up at him, appreciating the gesture, and also with the understanding that he couldn’t indulge in a drink in a room full of people. You wondered how hot it was under that armor. “[Green champagne. And our information please.]” The bartender smiled back at you, and poured you a tall glass of a bubbling liquid a pale mint color. You brushed it up to your lips and smiled at the refreshing, sharp taste. You passed the man the puck and illuminated it, and he looked at it for a moment before answering. “[He was just in here a few minutes ago. Younger guy. I don’t think he knows you’re here. He was talking of heading to the space port a klick up the main road.]”
“[Thank you for the information. And the drink.]” You got up after finishing what was left in your glass, and passed it back to the bartender. Before you had fully turned around, the man called back, “[Good luck! I wonder what that poor sap did to get a Mandalorian on him!]” and clutched his stomach and let out a hearty laugh. Mando looked down at you as you headed out the door. “What was that last part?”
“Nothing, I can’t tell you. Can’t let your head get too big for that helmet.”
* * *
You were headed out into the jungles, following the split of you and Mando. He headed up towards the spaceport to catch the quarry and you were to go wait in the ship. Behave. He seemed grateful enough for your help, and you had to admit, the rush of traveling with a Mandalorian was indescribable. The way people stared at you as you followed in his hulking shadow made you feel both tiny and invincible. You hadn’t known your counterpart very long, but you had the feeling while you were in his good graces, no harm would come to you. As you bounded into the ship, you busied yourself with flicking the comm Mando had given you open and closed, and spinning his captain’s chair in circles. You ran your hands along the controls of the ship, imagining how it must feel to fly it. You hadn’t flown in far too long, not counting the rusted up yellow speeder you had for a short while in Coruscant before some drunk Corellian crashed into it. It was amazing to feel this free, even in the confines of this metallic ship, Mando was the closest thing you had to a friend in a while. You were eager to find more work, and hoped it would lead you to follow your short-humoured and strangely alluring counterpart.
A while later, around a few hours maybe, the comm on the control panel blinged. You starred at it in disbelief. The comm he had given you was to be used only for emergencies, and Mando didn’t seem like the kinda guy who sat on his comm and turned it on. After clicking it open, you were startled to hear blasterfire and his voice. “Y/N. I’m sending you coordinates, meet me here now.” He said, sounding remarkably calm under what sounded like intense fire. “Ok, ok I can do that.”
“I know you can. Sending coordinates now.”
You looked down at what he had sent you, and plugged them in quickly to the ships nav system. It wasn’t far, would take only a few minutes to fly over and you realized it must have been the space port. After starting up the ship, you apprehensively used the controls you had watched him use earlier to slowly rise the ship up, then forward, and then you were flying, flying quickly towards the coordinates. You approached the port, and weren’t surprised to see Mando standing alone, a few scattered bodies lay around him, the quarry right beside him, arms cuffed. You smiled to yourself. In some weird, probably sick way, you were kinda impressed. Sure, you knew he was a Mandalorian, but you didn’t realize he was this deadly. And he was nice to you. You pressed the button to open the hatch and felt the ship dip under the added weight of the two men. There was a muffled commotion in the hull, and then a sound you quickly realized was the carbonite freezer. Mando climbed up the ladder and walked through the door into the cockpit, and you scooted over to the seat behind him. “I told you you weren’t so good with words.” You said, and he scoffed as he plugged in the coordinates to Nevarro. “Yeah, s’pose you’re right about one thing.” He said as he pulled you out of the system’s atmosphere. “You did good though. With the speaking, and the flying.” he started, and you cocked an eyebrow and crossed your arms over your chest, “I told you I’m good at this stuff.” You said, and placed the ship in autopilot before spinning towards you, “Yeah, I get it. Look, I could use another hand around here. For talking and flying. I can teach you to defend yourself. What do you think about sticking around? I can pay well enough.” You beamed bright pink and looked down at the floor for a moment, before looking up at the T in his visor. Being this close to him and under this much scrutiny was intense, the feeling that he could see you but you couldn’t see him was electrifying. “Yeah, I’d like that. Someone’s gotta keep you out of trouble.” You said, and patted him on the shoulder as you moved towards the door of the cockpit. “Oh here,” he called and you turned around. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small brown parcel and tossed it to you. You unwrapped the brown canvas and inside was a long piece of fuschia and blue silk, a hair scarf. “You didn’t think I’d forget did you?” He laughed, and turned towards the transparisteel in the front of the ship, leaving you with the beautiful scarf and your emotions behind him. Kriff. He was good.
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Tag list!!
@fleurdemiel145 @ehii7 @acehyacinth 
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gucciorchid ¡ 4 years
Text
Strap in this is a Shakarian Great Gatsby AU
Well, It’s more like.. I made an whole AU around that one scene in The Great Gatsby. I wrote this whole thing just so Garrus could stare at a green light and YEARN. 
This is an outline post. You can read the snippet I wrote here.
I also wanted Garrus to get drunk and confess how the whole Gatsby-like party thing was for her and everything. Anyway, here it is: 
Sakarian Great Gatsby AU 
-Shepard and Garrus go way back. She was his commanding officer and they blew off steam once. They got pretty chummy after that. Flirting, bantering, exchanging quips. 
- he was recruited to do one big mission, and once that was over other obligations came up (maybe his mom got copalis) and had to leave shepard
-they keep in touch, send messages, but alliance regs and the distance just doesn't really help. Garrus constantly reaches out and all, but Shepard gets lots of promotions and all that- she's fuckin busy. 
*or, shepard made some tough calls (or or, she failed to save a big place bc she couldn't disarm the bomb in time and ppl blame it on her) during her missions and that basically forced the Alliance to incarcerate her to prevent a war. All of her messages are blocked. 
-And Shepard is released after a year. Its all done under the radar. Garrus finds out about this bit (this info wasnt encrypted as well as the other ones, weird) but after that shepard is essentially MIA. Everything about her becomes absolutely classified, and it gets to the point that nobody knows what happened to her. Like shes alive, but everything about her becomes classified. Top tier encryption.
-he knows Shep is alive (he gathered that much). But it does make him go through the whole omega archangel breakdown. 
-Goes to omega, succeeds in cleaning the place up somewhat. He now looks over this "safe zone" in omega. Other mercs says archangel just set himself up as another gang in omega, but garrus doesn't take protection money- he makes money by crashing slaver ships and ruining red sand shipments, etc.
-Just in case shep shows up (and he has a small hope that she will, bc she's always where the trouble is), he has this event every weekend to attract a certain type of people (aka shepard). He invites people with power to the safe zone every weekend. He figures if shepard is on omega, she'd need or want something from the top dogs (she always does). Officially, it's to keep the different factions sated and amicable. Pretty much every important leader of some faction or a gang is there except aria. 
-things are going relatively fine, until he hears about shadow brokers agent moving into omega. They buy out an apartment (In reality its the shadow broker aka Liara and shepard. Shep went dark to work with liara. Something about council making shep a spectre and bc she was tasked with something super classified everything about her became a secret.) 
-they set up a private comm tower disguised as some garish luxury decoration on top of their apartment/house (yes this is the green light) 
-shepard and liara stays inside and plan shit out. Only delivery drones go in or out. There are rumors that shepard is in there bc ok love combining 2 conspiracies. Also some ppl claim to have seen that iconic red hair through the window or smth. 
-Garrus stands out in the docks and stares at the green light almost every night (green, like shepard's eyes). Its a rumor, but garrus is hopeful and this time he feels it in his guts. 
-Garrus is too busy to visit- hes busy disrupting shipments and taking care of his team etc. But every night he stands out of his base and just stares at the green light.
-shepard knows garrus is there and he's the archangel  but she doesnt seek him out no matter how much she wants to bc hanging around garrus will obviously blow her cover. (Yeah people are saying shep might be here but that's a rumor. It can be dispelled)
-besides she's so close to finishing her mission. Garrus did her a favor by rounding up all the important people into an unarmed party every weekend. 
-shepards mission started out as simple im the beginning but that ended up being like going down a rabbit hole and one of the last targets left was this one important dude on omega. He keeps his position hidden and all, and his house is a fortress. While shep can essentially go and infiltrate, liara and shep figured it would be safer with the manpower they have to assassinate at the party garrus throws.
-So that's how shepard ends up in the party. Liara forged her identity and really, people think she looks like shepard but nobody believes she is actually shep. 
-she's swift, chats up her target, then garrus spots shepard. So many questions in his head. But he knows Shep and shes probably here bc she needs something from that one guy she's chatting up. He approaches them, pretends he doesnt know shep not to blow her cover. He checks the guest list and looks like sheps in as alice Gunn. 
"Archangel?" 
"Just Garrus to you, Gunn. Thought you might never make it to these parties. You declined every single time." 
"You know my line of work. I can't exactly spare a weekend on an asteroid to schmooze and drink fruity Thessian drinks. But I thought I'd make an exception for this weekend. Now as much as I want to play catch up with you, I think me and him(target) was in the middle of discussing something..." 
-Now at this point Garrus knows what's up. He knows shepard, and he knows that target is going to die (shep was going to kill him). Shepard picked a nice  spot to lure him in. A nice private area, and the most isolated part of the safe zone. Shepard shoots Garrus a Look, the same one shed give him during missions all those years ago. A look that she gave him after garrus scanned a room theyre about to infiltrate with his visor. Garrus nods, Shepard shoots at a point-blank range. But whoops, it looks like that guy was a machine. Infiltrator unit. (Like Eva, EDI's body).
"I'm guessing this wasn't supposed to happen." 
"Nope." 
-so many emotions with her mission semi-failing and finally meeting garrus, but She packs it all up and comms liara that plan A is a no go. They have to break in. 
-Garrus shuts the party down early etc etc. 
-shep brings garrus to their house. Garrus knows omega in and out- they could use his help locating the target. 
-they plan the heist and in between, garrus is so anxious and tries to talk to shep about other things. "How have you been" and "where were you."
"All over, Garrus. It'll probably take a whole night just to tell you the short version. Now's not a good time to catch up." 
"Shepard, it's a week until the break-in. We have time to talk." 
"Not now, garrus. Maybe later. After we see this through." 
-so during heist, it's like old times. Theyre exchanging quips and bantering, and Garrus watches her six. They work so well together. 
-heist done, mission goes well. 
-after shepard reports to the council and alliance officially announced shepard as not MIA, they finally have some downtime. 
-shepard has new scars, new stories, new grief and fatigue in her eyes. Her frame is harder than last time he saw her, and it's clear the years hasnt been kind to her. Hes kind of angry that alliance and council would just throw her to do this shit.
-they drink, talk, and catch up. Shep talks about other times she had to go undercover and its mishaps. They laugh.
-at some point Garrus says stuff about the party.
"All that was for you, shepard. Put a little, ah.. Elbowgrease into this place and figured I'd make a place where shepard wont be able to pass up. -i know, I know. Hell of a gamble. It was only non armed on the tin. Everyone there was armed."
-shepard gets all sullen. "Garrus that's-"
"Not part of regular human courtship protocol, i know. Believe me when I say I've seen the vids." It's clear Garrus said it as a joke. Shepard doesnt laugh.
"I thought it was my job to be reckless." 
"Two years is a damn long time. More than enough to change a person."
"Or a turian." Shepard can tell Garrus has something to say. She has a good idea on what he wants to say, too. 
"Shepard, I-" 
"I haven't forgotten our time together."
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virgiliananxiety ¡ 6 years
Text
The Dark and the Light
GUYS I FINALLY GET TO POST THIS
This is the first chapter for my fic for the @sanderssidesbang! It will update approximately every two weeks, but updates won’t start for at least another three weeks (I really need a break from this fic). Pairings: Eventual Prinxiety
Word Count: 6.2k 
Warnings: Mild violence and non-graphic gore, panic attack
Read it on AO3
This was really not how Virgil had planned on his evening going.
First off, the date he had been on was actually going pretty well. The guy was nice, and seemed kind of into the whole “dark and mysterious” aesthetic. That was, probably, until Virgil got a text with his latest assignment. Which started in five minutes.
Secondly, once he reached the location, a small concrete warehouse, which housed the head personnel of Deceit’s main rival drug ring, there were...complications. The mission was simple, go in, get the information he needed, slit the throats of whoever saw him, and get out.
Complications came in the form of the little asshole who saw him not being too cocky to call for backup.
“Deceit?” He snarled in response to the chatter in his earpiece. He was hidden in the shadows behind a crate, but by this point, the shadows were starting to fill the room. “What do you want?”
“Anxiety, dear,” Fuck, one of them is right there. “It’s come to light that some of our intel on this base was a little...off,” No shit. Left hook, hit him with a few more shadows, dart to the neck. Why the fuck did he have to scream? Think, Virgil, think! “It turns out that there are about fifty guards on the premises, and from what I’m seeing of traffic patterns, more are on their way.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Footsteps, there were more coming. But suddenly, the room went completely black. Not shadows black, that would take up too much of Virgil’s energy, but the pitch darkness was–
“Unfortunately,  I am not. Though I did shut off their power,” That would explain it. “Which should buy you a little extra time. So I would get that information and get out quick, if I were you.”
Of course, because it was fucking Deceit, he still needed to get the information. Great.
Looking down at the map on his wristband, the exit from the main storage room was only about 35 feet away. But in that 35 feet, there were seven sentries. Just fucking dandy.
The first was, well, an idiot. They charged blindly, and Virgil blocked their throws easily, flipping them over his knee. The second was more tactful, parrying as he jabbed. Their dance lasted for a while, the preamble to each move hidden in the darkness, before Virgil finally stabbed a tranquilizer into their neck.
The third was fast, but not fast enough. The fourth fell after an elbow to the solar plexus, and the fifth slashed Virgil with a jagged blade before he knocked them down. Shit, that might be deep. No time to think about it, and he hit the sixth, but they swept a leg behind him, knocking him clean off of his feet. He landed on his side. Hard. Shadows in their mouth, down to the lungs, and...release as they let out their last breath. Dammit, Virgil, why’d you have to follow that instinct? The power flickered back on, and Virgil hit the seventh with a quick dart to the neck, now that he could finally see. He could feel through his shadows, but that didn’t mean he could see in the dark.
Third left, up the stairs, override the lock, down the hall to the main hard drive. And he ran, long midnight purple jacket trailing behind him as he jumped up the stairs. In the distance more footsteps trailed behind him, but he cloaked himself in shadows, keeping close to the walls. Pressing the device Logan had given him (though he’d modified it for more...sinister usage) against the lock, Virgil took stock of his injuries. Cut in the crook between his left shoulder and neck, scrapes and bruises lining his sides, and even through his gloves he could feel his knuckles splitting. Again.
The unlocking mechanism gave a satisfied click, and Virgil shouldered the door open, reminding himself of the additional bruise he had there. He broke into a sprint again, the servers were finally in view.
But because Virgil wasn’t planning on downloading anything remotely tonight, his software wasn’t activated. So, he had to call his roommate.
“Hey, Roman?”
“What’s up Virgil? You need me to pick you up from somewhere?” It was a well know fact that Roman was the only one in their friend group with a car.
“No, I’m good. Is Logan there?” Virgil and Logan were supposed to meet up for post date (over) analysis about seven minutes ago. Logan was never late.
“Yeah, one sec.” There was a rustling as Roman’s cell was passed from one side of the room to the other, where Logan was, most likely, parked in his customary spot in Virgil’s desk chair.
“Hey, Lo, I’m really sorry I’m running late.”  He heard a huff from the other side of the line, but knew that Logan didn’t really mind. “But I need you to do something on my computer.”
“Is this a simple request? Or one that would require a seperate... technological interfacing?” Virgil could practically see him skeptically eyeing Roman from across the room. Virgil was the only one that Logan had ever told about his powers, how he was able to interface with most technology, and how that allowed him to develop some inventions of his own.
“Simple. I just need you to log in, and press activate on the window that’ll pop up.” He heard the keyboard clicking as Logan typed in his password, and then a mouse click as he activated the software, punctuated by the affirmative beep from Virgil’s wristband. DOWNLOADING FILES: 3% COMPLETE.
“What do you need remote downloading for?” Logan asked, seemingly trying to pass the time. 16% COMPLETE.
“Oh, I had to stop at the library and get a book, but I didn’t feel like getting a thumb drive out.” He felt bad lying to his best friend, but he knew that if Logan found out, it would result in a) Logan trying to get Virgil to stop, and ending up captured or killed by Deceit, b) Logan trying to help Virgil, and ending up captured and used by Deceit, or c) Logan trying to get Virgil out of his predicament, and ending up captured or killed by Deceit.
What was his predicament, exactly? Well, that traces back a long way, through many past traumas, foster homes, packed bags, and escape attempts. Back to when a man with scales on his face told a scared 14 year old boy that he could take him in and make the shadows stop. But that man ended up not being so nice, and now Virgil was trapped.
Footsteps broke through Virgil’s thoughts, but they were far off. 47% COMPLETE. “Logan, I’ve gotta go, I’ll talk to you later.” He ended the call, cutting off his friend’s goodbye, which he was surely going to hear about later.
He scanned his map, and found that there was only one other way out, straight up through an abandoned elevator shaft. Clambering onto one of the server towers, he hunched in the dark as the first hostile entered.
“I don’t see anything here,” they said into a crackling walkie-talkie. Virgil took another slow step, but the circuit below him creaked. Shit. “Wait, hold that thought.” 89% COMPLETE.
“Fuck it,” Virgil cursed under his breath, and broke into a sprint, his feet pounding against the metal. He heard the sentry yell something into his comm system, and Virgil fired a dart messily over his shoulder, he didn’t have the energy for more shadows.
93% COMPLETE. He raced to the end of the room. 94% COMPLETE. More guards charged into the room. 95% COMPLETE. Bullets whizzed past him, one passing only a few inches from his temple. 96% COMPLETE.  He skidded to a stop as he reached the end of the room, a large piece of plywood blocking his exit. 97% COMPLETE.  The running footsteps were coming closer, and Virgil traced the outline of the board with his fingers. 98% COMPLETE. He attempted to pry the plank from the wall, but couldn’t find an opening. 99% COMPLETE. He felt another bullet scrape by him, and it went straight through the plywood, which meant it was thin enough to be broken through.
“Fuck it,” he muttered, and body slammed through the opening, bursting through in a hurricane of splinters.
“Download complete.” An automated voice sounded from his wristband. Well thank god it’s complete, lest I die falling with an incomplete download.
Virgil fired a grappling hook, and pulled himself up onto the roof, surveying the city below him. The lights were beautiful at this time of night, and the lit windows framed by dark buildings looked like the stars.
But he couldn’t stand there for long, for the night wasn’t over yet.
Roman hadn't had an extremely clear vision of how his night would go, but this was definitely not it.
"There are only eight planets! Pluto is essentially a glorified moon!" He practically yelled. He had progressively grown closer to the other man, and they were now a mear couple of feet from each other.
“Falsehood! There’s a current debate discussing the redefinition of ‘planet’, which would make your every argument null and void, and Pluto securely in planetary status.” Logan crossed his arms, nudging his glasses further up his nose. “In other words, Viva la Pluto, and fuck you.” He raised an eyebrow smugly, and Roman opened his mouth to retort.
“Hey, guys,” Virgil stumbled through the entrance to the dorm, clutching his left side. “I hope I’m not too late for some spicy space symposium.” He smirked, but winced in pain.
“Yeah, you’re not participating in anything right now.” Roman walked over and clutched Virgil’s shoulders, lowering him to the bed. “I think you just need some rest,” He motioned for Logan to dim the lights, and he reached over and turned on Virgil’s desk lamp. “And we’ll have you all set by morning to talk about Pluto.”
“M’kay,” Virgil murmured, allowing Roman to shrug off his sweater, and Roman winced at the open gash in his shoulder. He didn’t know what was going on, but this was at least the fourth time Virgil had come home banged up like this, and it was starting to seriously concern his roommate. “‘M gonna sleep now.”
“Okay.” Roman took a last look at Virgil’s already sleeping form and went to go grab his medical supplies. His nursing-theater double major had few perks, but being able to patch up his friends at any time was something that he cherished. Especially after Virgil had said “no hospitals”.
Roman returned from his desk to see Logan hunched over his friend, worry painting his features. As much as the other man tried to uphold his apathetic facade, Roman had seen several cracks throughout the years, several being caused by Virgil.
“Logan, can you stroke his hair to keep him calm while I look at this cut? It may be deep and need stitches.” Logan nodded, and Roman took a look and the cut. It definitely needed stitches, which meant that Roman would have to make a quick run to the nursing lab. “Ok, Xavier, you keep him here. If he wakes up, give him water, half a protein bar, and then back to sleep. Find his phone in whatever pocket it’s in, and confiscate it. He needs to rest.” He grabbed his jacket, and broke off into a sprint to get more supplies.
Several hours and seven stitches later, Roman fell back onto his bed. Logan had left only a few minutes ago, but now Roman was alone, trying to shut down his mind. But truly, how could he when his crus–roommate was lying there with a gash in his shoulder and bruises lining his body. When the boy who put on makeup every morning to cover the bags under his eyes had come home beaten and battered once a week for the past three months, but this time was the only time that he’d let Roman take care of him.
Though Logan had assured Roman that Virgil wasn’t in an abusive relationship, he couldn’t help but jump to that conclusion. He couldn’t help but remember his mom’s screams in the middle of the night. Images of dents in plaster and bloodied tissues clogged his mind, and he felt himself grabbing a piece of blanket and balling it in his fist.
It would be fine. They, being Logan, Roman, and Patton, would ask Virgil what was going on tomorrow morning. Tonight, though, Roman just really needed to get some sleep.
“What the fu–” Virgil awoke with a start as someone shook his shoulder. He sat up and immediately regretted it, groaning as pain shot up his side and into his shoulder.
“Hey, kiddo, glad to see you’re awake.” Virgil turned to see his three closest friends standing over him. Patton gave him a small smile, but there was visible concern overtaking all three of them. Judging by the bandages on his shoulder, and the fact that he was wearing a clean hoodie, they were going to ask him what happened last night.
“Virgil, you know that we only want to best for you, right?” Logan asked.
“What is this, an intervention?” Virgil murmured. What the hell was he going to tell them? That he could control shadows and drain people’s life energy by being in physical contact with them for too long? Yeah, that really wasn’t going to work.
“No, but we do need to know why the hell I needed to put seven stitches in you last night.” Virgil looked up to see Roman leaning against the wall, and he seemed almost...hurt? Jesus, the last thing Virgil wanted to do was hurt the man he was in love wi–his roommate. This was no time for intrusive gay thoughts.
“I–I fell?” He tried to keep his his tone level, but it ended up coming out as more of a question. In response, Roman slammed his fist against the wall.
“Onto a fucking knife?” He exclaimed, and the hurt in his voice turned to anger. Patton placed a soft hand onto his arm, but Roman shook it off as he stepped forward. “You came stumbling back here, an hour late for your and Logan’s post-date. You were delirious from pain, and I had to go to the fucking storage in the lab to get shit to stitch you up, and we’re extremely lucky Terrence was there last night. I’ve seen the missing medical supplies in my kit for months, Virgil, so for the last time, WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?” He raised his voice to a yell at the end, causing Virgil to wince back.
“Roman!” Patton turned on his Dad Voice, and sternly turned on the other man. “I understand that you are upset, but you have no right to jump on Virgil like this!”
“Look, it’s my fault.” Virgil murmured, and felt the pit in his stomach from lying grow a bit more. “I didn’t want to tell you guys this, but after dates I’ve been walking through...some of the less accepting neighborhoods. Looking for fights, or to get beat up.” It felt awful to lie to them, but truly, what choice did he have? “I guess it’s a form of self sabotage, or something.”
“Jesus, Virge.” Roman stepped closer, this time to plop down next to him on the bed and place a comforting hand on his thigh. Which sent more tingles through Virgil than he would willingly admit. “I’m so sorry. Please, in the future, call me, I’ll pick you up from wherever, whenever.”
“It’s my fault. I’ll try not to do it as much,” Or rather, he would hide it better.
“Or at all.” Patton lovingly rubbed his back, leaning into his side. And Virgil felt like literal human garbage.
Roman had always loved the snow. But that was before he had to fight some guy who wore all dark and conjured shadows in it.
He hurled another branch at the guy, dubbed by the papers “Anxiety”, catching him in the side. He didn’t want to hurt the guy, but on the other hand, he...really wanted to hurt this guy. Or at least do equivalent damage to what had been done to his pride.
Before this, Roman had been a freelance hero, or at least your friendly neighborhood super-strengthened and bulletproof man. He was able to rescue kids from doing dumb shit, stop a couple of drug deals from going down, that kind of thing. But that was before some dumb asshole in an annoying cool jacket starting fucking with him.
At the start, it was just interfering with his anti-drug operations. But then it became active antagonization, ruining everything Roman tried to help. And when the person didn’t fight with bullets, only really bad lighting, it became an issue.
“You didn’t have to kill the people in this ring!” Roman shouted as he circled around his emo enemy. “You could have just given them to the actual justice system!”
“If you knew anything about me,” A shadow swept towards Roman, curling around his neck and slightly infiltrating his mask. “You’d know,” he motioned a hand upwards, and Roman found himself having trouble breathing, “I couldn’t do that.” Roman tried to run after him, but in a rush of darkness, Anxiety ran off through the night.
“Virgil, dear, it’s been a while since you’ve been down here. What’s the occasion?” Deceit didn’t even bother to look up from his table, writing down some formula or another.
“I need to see Elliott about the new tech and get patched up. I would go to their place, but they said they’re here?” After coming out as non-binary, the hyper-intelligent and slightly emo kid had found themself homeless, and went through the same Deceit process Virgil did. Except after much negotiation, they were paid, and so they lived in a small studio apartment in the part of town where no one asked questions, only using Deceit’s lab when absolutely necessary.
“And here I thought you’d come to see your dear old ferocious father figure.” Deceit drawled, turning around and gesturing towards the staircase at the far end of the room. “He’s downstairs, and make sure you’re good as new before coming up.”
Virgil backed towards the stairs, having known Deceit long enough to not leave his back unwatched. He finally turned to walk down the stairs, glancing over his shoulder every few seconds, and hearing a soft laugh emit from the other man.
“Hey, Ell, what’s going on?” Elliott was positioned at a microscope, and something was heating up on the bunsen burner next to it. They held up one finger, and wagged it towards a bench, motioning for him to sit. Virgil shouldered off his jacket, wincing as he touched bruised skin. Pulling up his shirt, he did a preliminary assessment, but there were just scrapes and bruises. He also needed a little energy boost, because the guy was seemingly impermeable, making Virgil’s job a bit harder.
“Ok. I’m done here. What’s it this time?” Elliott stripped off his gloves, grabbing his rather eccentric med kit off a shelf.
“Asshole threw a tree at me.” Virgil grumbled as they took a closer look. “Just slather it with your magic ointment shit and let me go.”
“No, dickhead, there’s to big of a surface area, and it’s too close to your intestines because you have a zero percent body fat.” Elliott grabbed a tube, and started applying small amounts to the already scabbing area. “This might sting a bit, start talking to distract you from it.”
“How’s...Mitchell doing?” Virgil emphasized the syllables of Elliott’s boyfriend with a particular hatred. “Any new assholic behaviors I should know about?” They rolled their eyes, starting to strap a bandage onto Virgil’s side.
“He’s fine, and we’re fine. I started seeing this new therapist, too.” They finished the bandage, and whatever that cream was really started to sting.
“Oh?”
“Yeah, Dr. Picani.” Elliott nodded, smiling, they seemed to actually like this one. Unlike the last guy, who was, to say the least, a transphobic asshole. Virgil didn’t like to waste innocent lives, but there was a special place on his knife for those who hurt the one he considered a little sibling. “His methods are...unorthodox, but I think it’s going to work well.”
“And how does your boyfriend feel about you seeing him?” Virgil asked, eyebrows pinched in concern. Elliott shrunk back, though slightly, and grabbed another product to help with the bruises.
“It doesn’t matter.” That place on his knife? Mitchell was starting to qualify. “Speaking of love lives, though, how’s it with you-know-who?” They raised an eyebrow, slightly wiggling their shoulders.
“Fuck you,” Virgil lightly punched them in the shoulder, but couldn’t help the blushing grin from his face. “He’s extra, beautiful, strong as hell, and the other day he was singing to himself while he got ready. His voice is just incredible, I can’t believe that I live with an angel.” He stopped himself, meeting Elliott’s eyes and their knowing look. “And also, incredibly out of my league.”
“You’re wrong, but that’s something for another time.” Elliott stepped back, allowing Virgil’s shirt to fall over his injuries. “Those should only take a few hours to heal up, bounce coffee shops until the bandage adhesive starts to crust and loosen. Then you should be good to go home, but make sure to use the lotion I gave you every day to keep your skin okay. I just have one more thing, but I think we should talk as we walk, I need to get home.” They glanced over to the corner where they and Virgil had discovered the bug placed by Deceit. It wasn’t always running, but they had no way of knowing when it was.
“Okay,” Virgil grabbed his bag, trading his long coat for a hoodie, “Let’s go, then.”
They sat at a bus stop, waiting for a bus to pull up for Elliott. The wind blew Virgil’s purple streaked hair over to the other side, causing his companion to smirk. He watched as they fiddled with the hem of their skirt, obviously nervous for whatever they had to tell Virgil.
“I had a breakthrough.” Elliott jerked their head up to meet Virgil’s eyes, and stammered on despite his incredulous gaze. “On the fear toxin-esque chemical? Y’know the one he’s been forcing me to make?”
“Shit.” Was the most eloquent thing Virgil could muster.
“I haven’t tested it on humans, but the chemicals should act, when inhaled, as an extreme anxiety amplifier.” They looked so small, and so scared. Elliot had once said that their brain would be the death of them one day, and by their current state, Virgil couldn’t be sure it wouldn’t be. “Virgil, this thing that I’ve created, it could cause panic attacks that paralyze people. I–I don’t want him to have it.” At the last part their voice dropped to a whisper, and tears started to track down their face. Elliott sniffed and rubbed their cheeks, not looking up to meet Virgil’s eyes. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Hey, hey,” Virgil crouched in front of them. “Breathe. I’ll figure something out, I promise. Just keep breathing.” They took a shuddering breath, matching Virgil’s strokes on their hand. “It’s okay. Just go home, hug your sister, and take a shower. It’ll be okay.” And as much as he wanted to believe that, Virgil didn’t know if he could.
Roman burst the door to his dorm open, expecting the apartment to as empty as he left it. Instead, he was confronted with his purple haired roommate. Shirtless. From the back, he was all lean muscle and sticking out shoulder blades, the curve of his hips falling into his perfectly shaped–
“Roman?” Virgil turned, pausing the toweling of his hair. Roman ripped his eyes up to Virgil’s (only after a glance at his abs, Roman could appreciate art), and nervously scratched his neck. “I wasn’t expecting you to come home this late.”
“Ditto, dude.” Look anywhere but him, you gay motherfucker, anywhere but him. “You’ve been like a ghost the past couple weeks.” It was true, they’d barely seen each other except for studying and occasional ramen breaks since Thanksgiving.
“Yeah, that’s my bad, I’ve been working on a film project that’s mostly being shot at night.” Virgil explained, pulling on a hoodie. Roman walked over to his bed, dropping down and kicking off his shoes. “What’s your excuse, Mr. Double Major?”
“Well, my fucking double major,” Roman laid back onto his pillow, relaxing a bit for the first time that day. “But also, trying to think of a Secret Santa gift for Logan?”
“Oh, that’s a toughie. I got Patton, and I have no ideas, ugh.” Virgil sighed into his hands, plopping cross legged onto his bed. He stuck out a lip, blowing the bangs out of his faces, which was far more endearing than Roman would ever admit.
“But then of course there’s finals,” Roman pulled out his laptop, opening the study spreadsheet that Logan had helped him make. When they had been roommates Roman’s freshman year, the tension and hatred between the two would take a knife to cut. But over time, new friends, growth, and two “frienterventions” (the name was Patton’s idea), they had overcome their differences.
“Oh god, don’t remind me,” Virgil stretched up, his hoodie riding up above his hips, and Roman found himself staring. Not at his body, but rather the faded purple bruises that adorned his hips. Virgil’s eyes narrowed in confusion, but after following Roman’s eyes, he dropped his arms, pulling his sweatshirt over his hips.
“Virgil–” Roman started to reach out, only to be cut off by the other man.
“I need to go shower.” He all but sprinted out of the dorm room, leaving Roman to fall back onto his bed, a million thoughts racing through his mind. And not a single one was good.
Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. He saw the bruises, even though Virgil had been so careful. He’d been so careful for two months not to come home if he was too beaten up, he’d been so careful to slather on Elliot’s cream whenever he could. He’d been so fucking careful, and yet Roman had still seen the marks.
He threw his towel over a hook, stripping down and turning the shower up as hot as it could go. It burned his skin, but he deserved it, deserved to have all his flesh stripped from his body for hurting him. Deserved to feel the ache on his sides turn to a roaring fire as he pressed inwards, curling into himself. Deserved to feel the hard force of metal on his back as he slammed into the wall of the shower stall, doing his best to breathe as the tears fell, but the oxygen was catching in his throat, and he couldn’t force it down. He stood there for a few minutes, and felt shadows start to envelope him, holding, comforting.
Slowly, he turned the water down, his energy drained from the tight spiral of shadows that still curled around his body.
“Virgil?” Logan’s voice filtered through the steam. Virgil heard the “shink” of the outer shower curtain opening and a muffled “What the hell?”
He turned, trying to collect his racing thoughts. “Logan, what the fuck are you doing?” Virgil thickened this shadows around his body, and he felt the energy leave his body. Logan pushed through the last curtain, a look of pure shock coming over his features. “This isn’t gay fanfiction, you can’t just waltz in here.”
“Well, at least explain all of this.” Logan asked, waving his hand through the lingering shadows. “Is it–is it some sort of concentrated element? It’s fascinating.”
“What? Okay, no, that isn’t–they’re shadows, Logan.” Virgil clenched and unclenched his fist. “Will you please let me put on some damn clothes?”
“Fine. But you are going to explain everything to me as soon as you’re done.” Logan crossed his arms, and Virgil wrapped a towel around himself, the shadows finally dissipating as he exhaled. “Seriously, though, how does it work? Do you conjure them, what the range on it–”
“LOGAN!” Virgil yelled, more forcefully than he intended. “I just had a fucking panic attack because Roman saw the bruises and found out I’ve been lying to him for months. Also, yes, I can manipulate shadows, it’s a sort of dark mattered energy that I’m not exactly certain how works.” Logan just stared at him, eyes wide in front of Virgil’s outburst. “It’s the reason that I kept running away from the homes, until I was fourteen and a fucking criminal mastermind or whatever you want to call him picked me up off the goddamn street.” He could feel the words slurring as he worked himself up, but he needed to tell someone, even if it was just shouting it at his best friend. “You know that guy, the one the news has dubbed ‘Anxiety’? That’s fucking me. I’ve been doing this shit for nine. Fucking. Years. And I’m trapped, and the only thing I can do is keep working for him, keep killing and stealing and breaking for him. I have to keep doing this because if I don’t, he’ll torture and kill everyone I love, and make me watch. I’m so scared, Logan. I’m so fucking scared that I can’t breathe sometimes.” His voice cracked on the last words, and a sob finally escaped his body. Logan reached out, but all Virgil could do was push him away, throw on his clothes, and escape into the starless night.
“Hello?” Phone calls from unknown numbers were something most people were accustomed to, but Elliott didn’t get four in a row from the same number at 1:37 in the morning most nights. Well, five, counting this one.
“Hello. I am attempting to reach Elliott?” They weren’t sure what was going on, but the person on the other side sounded panicked, so they sat up and closed their laptop.
“Yeah, that’s me. What do you need?” Elliot replied, and a heavy exhale came through the phone speakers.
“I’m Logan Xavier, and I’m trying to find Virgil Sanders.” As soon as they heard the words, something clicked inside Elliott. Virgil’s best friend Logan, who appeared to have been affected by the same injections that Elliott and Virgil had, and that his powers were interfacing with technology. How Logan didn’t know about their mutual friend’s shadows, and how Elliott was saved in a private section of Virgil’s computer and phone that could only be accessed if you knew where to look. Or, they guessed, if your brain could automatically hack any system you touched.
“He told you?”
“Yes.” Logan paused, and the weight of his words settled on Elliott’s shoulders. “And now he’s gone. I’ve looked everywhere, and you’re the only one in his contacts I don’t recognize.”
“Yeah,” Elliot threw on a pair of jeans and ran a hand through their hair. “Give me two hours, I can find him.” Logan let out a relieved sigh as Elliott pulled their jacket off its hook. “Oh, and Logan?”
“Yeah?”
“Just let me talk to him, okay? I know where to look, and I know what to do.” They could practically feel the older man opening his mouth to interject. “As good as you are for Virgil in a lot of situations, this isn’t one of them.”
“I understand. Thank you, Elliott. Goodbye.” The line went dead, and Elliott opened their door, stepping out into the city at night.
“You know, sitting on the roof of an abandoned building at 2:30 in the morning kind of marks you as emo.” Virgil looked up from his stare at the tops of surrounding buildings to see Elliott climbing up the last rungs of the access ladder.
“And you joining me kind of marks you as one too.” He responded, smirking through his chapped lips and smudged makeup. “How did you know to look for me?”
“Logan called.” Virgil felt the smirk fall off his face as he turned back to the streets below him. “And we don’t have to talk about him.” He heard footsteps come closer as they neared the ledge he was perched on. “Just scooch over.”
“Well, how did you know where to find me?” Virgil couldn’t help but lean into his friend as he stared at the cars passing by.
“There’s trackers embedded in all your coats, and this was the third abandoned rooftop I checked.” Elliott chuckled under their breath. “Pigeons are much less impressed with my witty one-liners.”
“I have to keep them somewhere, and there’s a lot of abandoned rooftops in this city.” Virgil said in half-hearted protest. The coats were good, they had everything he’d ever needed on a job. And the fabric was warm and comforting, an he didn’t have the energy for any more shadows to blanket himself with.
Elliott leaned back, raising both hands in mock submission. “I wasn’t judging, just observing.”
“Well, they are made by a master of all seam work.” Virgil laughed, a real smile finally adorning his face.
“You flatter me, V.” They joined in his laughter, and Virgil cracked a few more jokes, letting the conversation flow into the night, the sounds of the city drowned out by the sounds of their happiness.
By 3:26, Roman had completely given up on sleep.
After Logan had left around 1:15 with Virgil’s contacts on his phone, Roman knew the night would be long. He’d poured a cup of tea, and cracked opened his textbook, attempt to read about possible respiratory issues in postanesthesia care unit.
By 1:43, Roman had completely given up on studying.
He opened his laptop, a fresh face mask applied to his skin. It was going to be a long night, so he figured that a little bit of Riverdale couldn’t hurt. As it turns out, after watching an episode and a half in his bed, Roman didn’t really care about who was a Southside Serpent and who kissed who. So, naturally, he decided to go to sleep.
That had clearly not panned out.
So that’s how he’d ended up at here, at 3:26, scrolling through his music library to find something to soothe his ever-heightening nerves. He clicked on a random Spotify mix, and opening guitar chords filtered from his speakers, Rihanna’s voice resounding through his speakers.
I think I’ve had enough.
I might get a little drunk.
Roman smiled, and for some reason the song reminded him of others. He started queuing up what he needed, slowly beginning to sing along to the woman he hailed as a queen.
Cause all of my kindness,
Is taken taken for weakness.
He laid back onto his bed, closing his eyes and losing himself for a moment. For a moment, every thought of Virgil, every thought of the purple clad villain almost constantly plaguing his thoughts, every thought about his classes and his upcoming show, they all dissipated. For a moment, he was lost in the beats and instrumentals and melodies. For a moment, he was lost and he wasn’t sure he wanted to be found.
But that moment was shattered as a very tired looking, beaten up Virgil stumbled through the door. He looked up with surprised as he saw Roman was still awake, and fumbled to pull off his headphones.
Roman stood up, his instinct telling him go to him, comfort him, before the events of earlier came crashing down onto his shoulders. He pulled back, giving Virgil some space, and ran a nervous hand through his hair.
“Virgil, I’m sorry about earlier. I overstepped my bounds, it was really uncool of me. I just want to apolo–”
“Roman, stop,” Virgil cut him off, his voice firm and low. Roman looked up at him, and watched a tense, forced smile plaster itself on his friend’s face. “Please. Can we just, can we just talk about this sometime else? I can’t–I can’t really talk about it right now.” He moved to sit on his bed, shedding his long coat and headphones. “Oh, is this that album you wanted me to listen to?”
Roman had completely forgotten the music that was still playing, and he tuned in to hear the first chorus of a song he’d been begging Virgil to listen to for months. Deciding to let the subject change, he switched his queue to the rest of the album, leaning back on his bed once more.
He wanted to say something, to comfort Virgil, but every time he opened his mouth the words died in his throat. There was nothing he could say, nothing he could do. There were his powers, of course, but how could he use them to protect Virgil when he didn’t know who was hurting him? If he asked, he could end up in a state like tonight, or worse. There was just no right thing to say or do, and Roman turned the thought over and over in his mind until a restless sleep finally claimed him.
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lils-writes ¡ 5 years
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À Quoi Ça Sert L’Amour
Here are the first two chapters of my fic entitled “À Quoi Ça Sert L’Amour”. 
Summery: Disowned by age 19, Adrien has no one to turn to. All his friends are far from Paris and he has no way to get to them. Well, all but one baker girl he befriended when he was 14.
You can find it on AO3 as well!
The streets of Paris never seemed this dull in all of Adrien’s life. But now, with a small suitcase in one hand and a small piece of paper in the other, the city of lights shined no more and everything felt out of place. Or maybe it was just him who was out of place. But what was his place? Where did he belong?
Adrien Agreste was the heir to the Agreste fashion empire. He was, in the past. Now, he as just Adrien. Adrien nobody. His father decided that he had enough of his son, showed him the door and handed him a check, just enough for the boy to survive for some time. What was he supposed to do now? The press would quickly be on his trail, once the news was out. He couldn't live his life on the run.
Soon enough, the blond dug through his bag, pulling out his phone. Out of habit, he composed Nino’s number, only half expecting the touring DJ to answer. Nino had just always been a source of comfort for Adrien. His best friend always knew how to cheer him up. Luckily enough for him, an energetic voice shot through the speaker, making Adrien smile a lit.
“Hey dude! What's up? Why you callin' so late?”
“It’s 8 in the morning. How is that late?”
“3 am, dude! Remember, I'm in America with Alya? Time zones, pal.”
“Oh.” It was all Adrien managed to get out. The words caught in his throat, turning his stomach over. “Sorry, I'll call back another time, then.” Adrien almost hung up, had it not been for Nino's shouts.
“Wait! What happened? Another fight with the old man?”
“He kicked me out for good this time.” Adrien’s voice was barely over a whisper, a shameful whisper. It hurt more than he thought it would. It had been 5 years since the passing of his mother, 5 years since his father became increasingly cold towards him. Nathalie used to say that it was because he resembled his mother too much for Gabriel to handle, but this grief of his had gone too far. The father-son bond was ruined to the point of no return. It had gone from a little distance to being completely disowned.
“You can stay in my apartment if you want? I’ll call my landlord, tell her to give you a key to my place if ever you want.” Nino's voice sounded desperate, desperate to help his best friend. Adrien smiled on the other side of the line.
“Thanks Nino, I’ll think about it. I should let you rest, it’s late where you are. Sleep well.”
Adrien stared at the red phone icon on his phone as the call ended. At least he had a place to stay for a few weeks. Nino wasn't his best friend for nothing. They always had each other’s back, no matter how far apart they were. Adrien was grateful for the other boy’s generosity. He'd have to find a way to repay this generosity. Maybe he'd do something to the apartment, or get Nino some kind of equipment he needed. Then again, Adrien no longer had the money to do that. Money had always helped him repay these kinds of debts. Now, Adrien had to be more creative with his ways.
Somehow, unconsciously, Adrien hit Chloe’s contact and held the phone to his ear. He was lost. He needed a friend. He needed someone, badly. Insecurities had started flowing back in, blanking him. His life was upside down and he didn't know how to deal with this.
“Bonjour, Adri-chou! How are you today?” The pitchy voice of his first friend made him smile. It was comforting to hear Chloe so happy.
“Nothing much. I just wanted to know if I could see you today.”
“I'm sorry, Adrikins. I'm out of the country for a little while. My mom booked me flight to all the hottest places to be. Red carpets, photo-shoots, everything I've ever wanted. It really boosts my career as a fashion critic.” Chloe actually sounded apologetic for once.
“Oh, alright. In that case, I hope you have fun and that we’ll get to hang out once you're back in Paris. I have to go now. Talk to you soon, Chlo.”
“Ttyl, Adrikins!”
Chloe blew him a kiss before hanging up. Chloe had really changed, these past few years, but she still remained Chloe. She was still bubbly and affectionate, but she had grown into a better person. She was nicer with everyone, putting all that bad attitude of teen Chloe behind her. Age made her realize that kindness would get you farther than bitchiness would. The thoughts temporarily made Adrien happy, pushing the bad thoughts of Gabriel to the back of his mind. It helped him make his way to Nino’s apartment. Adrien needed a place to crash down in to think.
On his way, Adrien crossed a bakery. His stomach rumbled, reminding him that he hadn't eaten in hours. The smell of fresh pastries pulled him in. He had always been a sucker for anything sweet, even if Nathalie always forbade him from having any. Being a model meant he had a strict calorie counted diet, and Nathalie judged sweets to be an unnecessary waste of those precious calories. Slowly, he walked in, a little bell announcing his arrival.
“Welcome to the Dupain-Cheng bakery! How may I- Adrien? Good morning, Adrien!”
The girl behind the cash grinned at him as she grabbed a croissant from the display case. She was still talking, but Adrien didn't catch a word she said. When was the last time they had spoken? How many years had it been? She still remembered him, gleefully greeting him, as if it had been just a few days. She had always been a cheerful person, always there for everyone. Marinette really was a wonderful girl.
“Here, it seems like you’ve had a rough night.” She handed him a fresh croissant, smiling at him. “On the house.”
Adrien held up few euros, trying to convince her to accept them. He had enough money to buy a croissant. But Marinette was stubborn. Something about treating her friends. Adrien gave in, taking the croissant with a wide smile and sitting near the counter, close enough to still be able to talk to his old classmate. He liked her voice. It was comforting.
Surprisingly, conversation flowed naturally. It wasn't anything like the conversations Adrien had with Chloe or Nino, but it was also very different from the memories of conversations the two had had in their school days. Marinette seemed a lot more confident, stuttering a lot less. She was smiling more, seeming more like who Marinette must have really been. She was hardworking, but also seemed laid back. Her work looked effortless and with an extreme precision, clashing the image of the clumsy girl Adrien had always had. Maybe Chloe had been exaggerating, calling her Klutzy Mari all those years. It was nice to see Marinette at peace, happy, herself. But all that’s good must eventually come to an end.
“So, how’s your father?”
Adrien’s shoulders tensed at the mention of his father. Of course, Marinette hadn't meant to make him uncomfortable, since she didn't know the whole ordeal with Gabriel. No one knew except Nino, afterall. Adrien took another bite of the croissant before answering.
“He’s doing fine. Business is booming, his name is spreading even more around the world. He’s getting models from everywhere. They’re practically begging to work for him. Well, until they know how it feels to work for Gabriel.”
Adrien couldn't resist slipping in the little comment. He sunk his teeth in the flaky croissant one again, frowning. Marinette looked dazed, almost as if she was daydreaming. As long as she wasn't dreaming of the wonder that was Gabriel, Adrien would be fine, but since he didn't possess any mindreading skilled, he wasn't completely sure as to what she was thinking out. Then again, she did have a slight admiration for Gabriel. This is something Adrien had always known, ever since he met the young girl. Marinette had always been a creative mind, creating things ranging between drawings to clothing to baking. She was amazing at everything she tried! She had always impressed Adrien.
“I wonder what it’s like, being the head of a fashion empire. You must have an idea, right? I heard from Alya that your father hired you during the summer to prepare you when it came the time to take over the family company.”
“I’d have to be family to run it.”
Adrien clasped his hands over his mouth, his eyes growing three sizes larger. He hadn't meant to let that comment out, but it was too late to take it back in. Marinette shot him a questioning look. Clearly, she was expecting an explanation from Adrien, having stopped her counter cleaning. The boy slumped down into his chair, refusing to meet her eyes. Shame came flowing in.
“He kicked me out this morning. Disowned. Adrien Agreste is dead.”
Marinette’s eyes filled with sadness. She pulled a chair across from Adrien, offering him another treat and coffee, which he refused. Her words of comfort were distant, Adrien’s head buzzing with the shame of losing his name and of venting to this girl he had lost all forms of contact with years ago. She deserved better than this pathetic scenario.
“I'm sorry, I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have told you that. You probably don't care about my situation, and I don't blame you. Even I'm annoyed with myself.”
Marinette vigorously shook her head, her eyes riveted on Adrien. “Absolutely not! I am by no means annoyed by you! And I most definitely care about what happen to my friends!”
Marinette was still calling Adrien a friend, and it broke his heart a little. This sweetheart of a girl was calling this pathetic excuse of a human her friend. She deserved better than him. She didn't deserve to deal with his family drama. Yet, she wouldn't let him go.
“Do you have a place to stay? Do you have enough money? I can ask my parents to help! We have a spare room, if you need a bit of time to adjust to your new life. And if you want, I can put in a good word for you. My parents are looking for a new baker helper, since I’m about to really be sunken in all my work: commissions, internships, my own personal projects and so on.”
Marinette went on and on about the multiple ways she could help him, and Adrien couldn't help but stare at her in disbelief. Well, disbelief that she was so willing to help him and shame that he needed the help of someone who had no reason to help other than pity. Obviously, Marinette was pitying him. She found him as pathetic as he knew he was. Why else would she want to help him?
Yet, there was something that threw Adrien off. Maybe it was the way she was playing nervously with her clothe she had been wiping the counters with, maybe it was the way her voice occasionally became more pitchy, especially when she said Adrien’s name, but there was something that was telling him that she didn't pity him. There was a little voice inside of Adrien that was telling him Marinette was helping him because she wanted to, because she was a generous beautiful soul that just wanted to be there to make the world a better place.
“Thank you, Marinette. I have a place to stay in, hopefully. Nino is supposed to call his landlord and let me stay there, but I don't know if he’ll do that today, since he’s in the USA.” Adrien forced a smile as Marinette nodded. “I think I can survive, but thank you again. I should get going. I have a big day ahead of me.”
Adrien pushed the chair, getting up. Marinette mimicked his movement, rising to her feet as well. She was smiling brightly at him, wishing him luck on his new adventure. It was crazy to think how this girl, an old classmate of Adrien’s, was more encouraging than his own father ever was. It was crazy to think that all it took for Adrien to realize how little support he had gotten growing up was to be disowned.
Adrien waved at Marinette, shooting her a “have a good day”, before making his way towards the door. But as the little bell chimed with the opening of the door, Adrien felt fingers wrap around his wrist. How did Marinette get so close to him so quickly? She was at the counter when he turned around!
“Before you go,” Marinette huffed, still grinning, “take this. It’s not much, but I’d like for us to stay in contact.”
Adrien stared at the piece of paper Marinette had handed him. 10 numbers were clearly written, Marinette’s name beautifully written right under. Adrien glanced back at Marinette, smiling back.
Marinette flushed pink, hurriedly letting go of the blond. “It’s if you’re interested in the job! Well, it’s actually my cell number, but if you want the job, you can call me and I can arrange something, if you want of course, because that’s up to you!”
“Thanks Marinette. I’ll think about it.”
Adrien chuckled a little before walking out of the bakery, the paper secured between his fingers. It was nice to think that he had a job offer without even trying. He’d call back if he was really desperate, not wanting to take advantage of his position as an acquaintance of the owners’ daughter. It would be unfair to the other applicants, who probably had more experience than he did.
“You can call me if you want to talk to a friend too, if you want!”
Adrien turned back to the sound of the voice. Marinette was leaning against the doorframe, her hands around her mouth to make her voice louder. She was still grinning, waving frantically at Adrien. Suddenly, Adrien saw the huge change between the old and the new Marinette. He liked the old Marinette, but he was starting to really like the new Marinette. He was liking the idea of having a friend nearby.
Adrien waved back, clenching the paper tighter, afraid to lose it to the wind. It was his new treasure. Nothing meant more to him than this paper did now.
6 notes ¡ View notes
wordlesscaptain ¡ 6 years
Text
Tinder Bait: Part 5 (Steve x Reader)
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader
Word Count: 2.9k+
Warnings: language, mild violence
Prompt: “I’m very, very bad under pressure.”
Summary: Tony decides to meddle in your life yet again and sign you up for Tinder…but there’s a catch.
A/N: This is my entry for @e-g-b-o-k’s 500 Follower Celebration Writing Challenge. Here it is! We finally get to go to that hella expensive restaurant Tony reserved. There’s also a good amount of feels in this. I should also mention that I don’t know when I’ll get the next chapter out. I’m hoping next week, but given my terrible track record...anyway, thanks for reading. Your support means the world to me!
Series Masterlist
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7
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“Are you ready?” Wanda asked. You sighed, giving yourself a final once-over in the mirror. You took a deep breath and turned towards Wanda and Natasha.
 “As ready as I’ll ever be,” you shrugged.
 “Alright, let’s go,” Natasha started to walk out the door and you and Wanda followed suit. You walked down the corridor towards the elevator. Your nerves were starting to pick up. Time seemed to pass by slower and slower with each step. You wanted to get this over with, but you also didn’t want it to start. Wanda wrapped her arm around your side and gave you a squeeze. You were sure she could sense your nervousness.
Natasha pressed the down arrow and the elevator arrived with a ding almost instantly. You all stepped inside and awaited your descent to the common room where everyone else was waiting. The ride down was agonizingly quiet until Natasha spoke up.
“You’re going to do great,” she encouraged.
“Thank you,” you breathed, your nerves still wreaking havoc inside you making you unable to truly express how thankful you were for her support.
You felt the elevator slow down to a stop and watched as the doors opened to the common room. Natasha and Wanda stepped out first and you followed quickly behind.
 “There’s our spy in training,” Tony greeted with a smile, giving you a hug.  You smiled and hugged him back. Over his shoulder, you glanced at Steve. He was already looking at you smiling. Tony released you from his embrace and looked at you puzzled.
“This isn’t the dress I bought,” he looked to Natasha and Wanda. They both shrugged.
“Tony, that dress was a crime against humanity. There’s no way in hell I’d be caught dead in that thing,” you replied.
“Wait, now I’m curious,” Sam spoke up.
“Yeah, what did he buy?” Steve asked.
“You guys ever seen a shower loofah?” You asked. They nodded. “Basically that. But as a dress.”
“I’m not a fashion expert,” Sam started, “but that sounds awful.”
“You’d think a billionaire would have better taste,” Bucky muttered. You all laughed, but Tony.
“Maybe it was a joke,” he shrugged, walking towards the kitchen area of the common room. You looked at him skeptically. “Maybe,” he paused, grabbing a glass and pouring himself a drink, “I wanted to see if Y/N would actually wear it.” You rolled your eyes and shook your head.
“Thankfully Natasha and Wanda stepped in and saved my ass,” you laughed.
“Speaking of saving asses,” Natasha looked up from her phone, “Wanda and I have to go save Clint and Vison’s.”
“We’re so sorry, Y/N,” Wanda gave you an apologetic smile.
“It’s okay,” you waved her off. “You two have helped me more than you know. Thank you,” you gave them a sincere smile. They gave you one final hug before heading out of the room.
“Well, the cab is waiting outside. You should probably get going. You don’t want to be fashionably late,” Tony offered with a smile.
“We wouldn’t want that, now would we?” you joked. You were glad everyone was their normal, lighthearted self. You felt your nerves ease slightly.
“Here’s your ear comm,” Tony handed you the small device. You took it and put it in your ear. You checked the pockets in your coat for your wallet and phone, confirming you had everything else you needed.
“Alright,” you breathed. “Let’s get this bastard.”
“I’ll walk you down to your cab,” Steve said as he approached you. You nodded and followed him into the elevator. Once the elevator doors closed, you closed your eyes, trying to keep yourself calm.
“I’m, uh, I’m glad Natasha and Wanda got you that dress instead,” Steve spoke up. You opened your eyes and looked at him. “You look really beautiful in that dress, Y/N.” You felt your cheeks heat up instantly.
“Thank you, Steve,” you smiled. He ducked his head and rubbed the back of his neck, the tips of his ears turning pink. You still found it so odd that he kept doing that around you. You thought back to the conversation you had with Natasha and Wanda earlier. They didn’t directly say he had feelings for you, too. But they heavily implied it. Maybe they were right. But this was the only behavior that lead you to believe he might like you as well. Was there something else you were missing?
The elevator doors opened and you walked out to the lobby with Steve. He led you towards the front of the building where you could see the cab waiting outside. He paused right in front of the door.
“Not letting me go, Rogers?” you teased.
“No, no,” he laughed. “I have something for you.”
“Oh?” you raised your eyebrows. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a delicate necklace with a small crystal pendant. You blinked and looked up at him in confusion.
“It’s a tracking device.”
“Wow, that’s impressive.”
“I thought we weren’t taking enough precautions, so talked to Tony and we came up with this.” You smiled at him, his concern for you warming your heart.
He unclasped the necklace and lifted it up. “May I?” he asked. You nodded and turned around, moving your hair out of the way. You felt his warm fingers graze across your skin delicately. Your skin tingled from his touch. You looked down and touched the tiny pendant admiring it.
“Thank you, Steve. Really, thank you.” He smiled at you.
“I wouldn’t thank me just yet,” he replied. “There is a catch.”
“Oh no,” you sighed.
“Tony programed it to send us a signal when you say a certain phrase…”
“Of course he did,” you groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose. “What is it?”
“’Where’s Iron Man when you need him?’” he answered with a remorseful smile.
“I’m not even surprised,” you let out a laugh. “Remind me to kill him when I get back.”
“Will do,” he chuckled.
You looked out the window at the cab. This was it. You were about to actually go through with this. You felt more confident than you did a few days ago. You watched the team put a lot of effort forming this plan and preparing for any outcome. Seeing Natasha and Wanda helped, too. You knew if anything happened, they would be there for you. You gathered up one last once of courage and turned towards the door.
“Well, it’s now or never,” you said as you reached for the door handle.
“Y/N, wait,” Steve reached out and grabbed your hand, pulling you into a tight hug. You wrapped your arms around him and hugged back. This hug felt different from the many times you’ve hugged Steve before. It felt desperate, but strong. It felt reassuring, and welcoming, and tender, and warm, and…home. You felt like this was exactly where you needed to be in this moment.  
“You’re gonna do great,” he mumbled in your hair. You squeezed him tighter, not wanting to let him go.
“I hate to ruin this incredibly cheesy moment, but we should get going,” Tony interrupted. You and Steve loosened from each other’s embrace. You instantly missed his warmth.
“Oh, I see Steve gave you the necklace,” Tony commented. “Enjoy the catchphrase?” he smiled slyly.
“When all of this is over, I’m coming for you, Stark,” you smirked. He and Steve laughed.
You waved to the both of them and opened the door. You looked one last time to Steve before walking out the door and into the cab.
The cab pulled up outside a tall building, ‘Le Bernardin’ glowing in the darkness of the evening. You thanked the cab driver and opened the cab door, stepping outside. You flattened out your dress and walked towards the entrance. The doorman greeted you with a small smile and opened the door. You walked inside and were overwhelmed at how high end the place was. The pictures Tony showed you only touched the surface of how fancy this place actually was.
You walked up to the hostess and told her you were meeting someone here. She told you he was already here and you felt your stomach twist. No time to mentally prepare yourself before he got here like you originally hoped. You followed the hostess as she weaved through the tables. As you were inching closer, you saw him. His black, slicked back hair glistening under the decorative light over the table.
The hostess gestured for you to take a seat and told you your waiter would be out shortly. You nodded. You turned towards the man sitting at the table and put out your hand.
“Nice to finally meet you, Will,” you gave him a smile. He took your hand and shook it.
“And you as well, Y/N,” he smiled back at you.
“Were you waiting long?” you asked.
“No, not too long,” he replied.
You nodded and picked up the menu in front of you. Your heart nearly stopped when you saw how expensive everything was. Tony was definitely out of his mind. The fancy, over-the-top atmosphere made you feel very out of your element.
“Do you know what you want to order?” Will asked. You looked at him and then back down at the menu.
“Uhh,” you paused.
The lamb is really good. You heard Tony say in your ear. You jumped a little, completely forgetting that you had an ear comm in your ear.
“I’ve heard the lamb is really good,” you answered.
I’ve heard the lamb is really expensive. Bucky commented. You had to chock back a laugh from his jab at Tony.
“Do you know what you want?” you asked.
“Yes,” he replied flatly.  
“Okay,” you said quickly, surprised by his curt response. Tonight was going to be a long night.
The waitress made her way to the table and you both placed your order. She took your menus and said your food would be out shortly.
“So, Y/N, what do you do for a living?” he asked.
“Oh, I’m a receptionist,” you answered.
“Really? Where at?” he asked curiously. You could’ve sworn you heard a hint of skepticism in his voice.
Lie! Don’t blow your cover. Tony scolded.
“Uhh,” you paused, “at a paper company.”
Someone’s been watching too many episodes of The Office, you heard Tony snicker in your ear.
“It’s not very exciting, so I’ll spare you the details,” you said quickly. “What about you?” you asked, hoping he’d do more of the talking. This wasn’t getting off to a good start.
“I work for an organization that focuses on making the world a,” he paused, “better place.”
“Wow, that’s great,” you said, trying to sound enthusiastic. You heard Tony and Sam scoff in your ear. You had to resist the urge to yell at them to knock it off. Their commentary was starting to distract you. “So, do you, uhh, work in New York City then?” you asked.
“One of our main offices is here in the city, but we’ve got offices located all over the world,” he answered. His responses were so vague. You feared you wouldn’t be able to get more out of him.
“So, do you travel a lot then?” you asked.
“When needed, yeah.” You nodded your head.
“Where’s the best place you’ve traveled? For work or for leisure,” you asked.
“Probably Europe,” he replied flatly. This guy was really giving you nothing to work with.
This guy is impossible! Keep nudging him about Europe. There’s got to be somewhere specific. Tony urged.
“Europe, really? I’ve always wanted to go there. Do you have any recommendations of countries I should visit?” you asked.
“Poland is nice. Russia has a bad rep, but it’s nice there. I visit there often,” he replied. Finally, something you could work with.
“Good to know!” you said a little too enthusiastically. “I’ve heard Moscow is beautiful.”
“That’s where all the tourists go,” he scoffed. His rudeness startled you. “If you want a true, authentic Russian experience,” he said in a hushed tone, “you should go to-“
“Excuse me,” the waitress interrupted.
Oh, for the love of-
Tony. Steve warned.
“I forgot to bring out your basket of bread rolls. Here you go,” she said as she placed a basket of warm rolls in the middle of the table.
“Thank you,” you smiled at her. You turned your attention back to Will.
“Ladies first,” he gestured towards the rolls. You nodded and reached for one. As you pulled your hand back, you accidentally brushed up against your glass. Before you knew it, your lap was covered in freezing cold water.
“Oh my go-I’m so sorry!” you gasped. “I, uhh, I need to go-I’m gonna go clean this up,” you scrambled up from your seat and rushed towards the bathroom.
Everything okay in there, Y/N? Steve asked. You stayed silent. This wasn’t how you wanted this to go at all. You almost blew your cover and the date had just started. Why were you such a blubbering mess? You were usually more put together than this. And why wasn’t Will being more forthcoming? You thought you were asking basic get to know you questions. Disguising them, of course, but he didn’t know that.
“I don’t think I can do this,” you muttered.
Don’t worry, kiddo. You’re doing great. This guy’s hard to crack. Tony encouraged.
You shook your head, despite the fact that none of them could see you. “You don’t understand. I am very, very bad under pressure. I think that’s pretty obvious.”
You’re better under pressure than you give yourself credit for, Steve said sincerely.
You sighed. “I don’t know, Steve. I’m pretty bad out there. I don’t understand why I can’t get him to talk. All the guys I’ve ever gone on dates with never shut up. I’m used to never getting a word in. What am I doing wrong? Am I coming off as unapproachable? Oh god, what if he suspects something? What if he-”
Hey, hey, hey, calm down. You’re doing just fine. Steve assured. Take a deep breath. If he does suspect something, we’re right outside.
“You’re right, you’re right,” you mumbled. You were protected by the best in the business. And you felt like this was truly their only chance to get this guy. You had to go back out there and forget about your insecurities and worries. You had to do it for them, the people who meant so much to you, who brightened your day, who made you want to make the world a better place. You took a deep breath and headed back to the table.
You sat back down and gave Will an apologetic smile. “I’m so sorry about that.”
“That sure did take a long time,” he said with a trace of suspicion in his voice. You gulped.
“The, uhh, hand dryer was broken. Only blew out cold air,” you responded. “So, where were we? I feel like I still know nothing about you.”
“Let’s start with why we both swiped right on each other’s Tinder profile. Well, in your case, you gave my profile a ‘Super Like’,” he said, his tone getting darker the more he spoke.
“Well,” you paused, “believe it or not, but you’re definitely my type. Tall, dark, and mysterious. Women go crazy for men like that.”
I can vouch for that. I’m tall, dark, AND mysterious. The ladies love me. Tony gloated.
You’re not tall, man. Sam corrected.
“Hmm,” he nodded. You sat there in silence for a moment until you spoke up.
“What about you? Why did you agree to meet up with me anyway?” you questioned.
Static from your earpiece suddenly startled you. You heard a fuzzy voice speak. Y/N…think…breaking up…you heard who you thought was Tony. You were confused by his weird, choppy sentence, so you decided to ignore him and pay closer attention to Will.
“Same reason you did,” he smirked. But this wasn’t a flirty “I think you’re cute” smirk. This was a villainous “I’m up to no good” smirk.
“Oh, so I’m you’re type, too. Great!” you said with excitement, hoping he couldn’t hear the panic in your voice. Something definitely wasn’t right, but you couldn’t leave until you got the OK from the team.
“Hey,” Will said as he grabbed your hand and leaned in closer to you. “Do you wanna get out of here?” he whispered.
“Uhh,” you paused, “but our food hasn’t come out yet. Don’t want to leave on an empty stomach.” You hoped that would buy you some more time.
Y/N…safe…get out! Steve yelled. The urgency of his voice surprised you, but you complied without a second thought.
“Actually, yeah, let’s get out of here.” You stood up from your seat and waited for Will to do the same. He linked his arm in yours, a bit firmer than you would’ve liked, and walked towards the back of the restaurant.
“Wait, isn’t the entrance the other way?” you asked, panic in your voice. He ignored you and pulled on you harder. You tried to pull out of his grip, but he was much stronger than you were. He led you through a door in the back that opened to a dark alleyway. Your eyes couldn’t adjust to the darkness fast enough before you felt a sharp pain in the back of your head. After that, everything went black. 
Part 6
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133 notes ¡ View notes
braincoins ¡ 6 years
Note
yes please allura pov
((I love that you didn’t even specify!! Unnecessary! This is gonna be a bit long for one of these, but I’m not even sorry.))
Allura had been glad to see the Black Lion’s safe return (not that there’d really been much doubt about their victory, but she always worried a little about all the Lions and their Paladins), but watching Shiro walk out wiped her mind of everything she’d been about to say to him.
Sometimes he caught her off-guard for a moment, especially when he was close to her: those long eyelashes, the depth in those dark eyes. And she’d always appreciated how handsome he was: she’d even told him he looked impressive at the ball, and that had been the truth. 
But there was something about him now, striding confidently out of the Black Lion, pulling his helmet off, still wearing Altean clothes that had been tailored to his frame and showed his body off to great advantage. She knew that he hadn’t had time to change into his uniform, and they were the same clothes she’d just seen him in, but it was the shift in attitude that surprised her. This was not Shiro uncomfortably pretending to be something he wasn’t. This was Shiro in his element, strong and certain, powerful but not overbearing. 
Takashi Shirogane was the most incredible being in the universe right now. Allura was renderedhelpless, unable to do anything but stare at him. She couldn’t move, couldn’tthink, couldn’t even breathe. He was smiling, but as his eyes locked on hers,they crinkled lightly at the corners.
It was hard to snap herself out of it, but she managed somehow, even though she feared she was blushing. “So, we did it,” he said.
She cleared her throat. “I never had any doubt.”
“You have a lot of faith in Voltron.”
“And in you. All of you, really, but… especially you, Shiro.”
“Thank you, Princess.”
That wasn’t going to help her blushing. “Oh, stop it. We’re not in front of the Grashnarians any longer.”
“Thank heavens. So, I guess this means the pretend marriage is over then?” 
She nodded, not sure how to start discussing what she wanted to. She scrambled for the words, but Shiro just took the opportunity to tease her.
“Do we have to get a pretend divorce?”
She laughed, feeling a little more like herself. “I feel that’s unnecessary. But, for the record, I enjoyed pretending to be married to you.” It occurred to her how that might sound, and she added, “I mean, the whole ‘kept prisoner through excessive politeness and dithering’ was less than ideal, but the rest of it was quite nice.”
“Thank you. The feeling’s mutual.”
“It must feel good to be back.” She was still buying time.
He nodded, looking around the hangar. “Very good.” He looked back to her and smiled. “I’m so glad to be home.”
That threw her. “You… consider this your home?”
“Well, yeah. It is.” He sounded so nonchalant about it.
“What about Earth?” She had always assumed that the Castle was little more than a flying barracks/base of operations to him, er, them. 
“Well, that’ll always be home, in the sense of being where I’m from. There’s a lot I miss about it. But it’s… different now. I don’t know. When I think of home, I think of being here.”
She couldn’t help smiling widely. “I’m so glad to hear you say that.” That this could be any sort of home to you… here, with me…
“Really? Why’s that?”
She cleared her throat and looked away, and she was back to stammering. “I… just am.” Coward, she accused herself. She’d had this whole prepared speech, she’d been working on it in the back of her mind since last night, but it was gone and she was left floundering, wanting the certainty of her plan back before she could say anything to him.
“Oh, and as long as we’re discussing our ‘marriage’? I’m so, so sorry.”
That snapped her out of it. She looked back to him. “For what?”
“For everything. My screw-up that forced your hand in the first place. My behavior as your pretend consort, especially the…” He pointed to a spot on his neck in reminder. “I… didn’t even ask first.”
She didn’t need the reminder, but it came anyway: Shiro’s lips on her throat, the sensation, the knowledge that they would be caught like that. She shoved it away, retreating behind professionalism. “You did what you had to do to, Shiro. I don’t blame you for that. And if you hadn’t stopped and stared at me instead of kneeling, I would’ve been in there alone.”
“You would’ve figured something out.”            
She nodded. “But it was nice to have you by my side through it. Just because I can do things on my own, doesn’t mean I always want to.” She reached out and took his right hand in both of hers, hoping that the gesture would help her get out what she wanted to say. “You were more help than I think you know, Shiro. And I’m so very grateful to have had you with me.” But more words wouldn’t come.    
They smiled at each other for a long moment. Shiro cleared his throat, and Allura realized she still had hold of his hand. She let go quickly. “And it wasn’t all bad. There’s the fruetana, right?” he asked.
Ah, the fruetana! Her second favorite thing about this entire mess. She was happy to talk about that instead, even as she was aware she was stalling. 
Shiro changed the subject abruptly. “So, why are we way out here in the first place? You never did explain.”
“Oh! That’s right, I’m sorry.” She’d told him in that carriage ride she would explain it but then, well, she hadn’t been able to because of the surveillance they’d been under. By the time she realized it was pointless to pretend, she’d forgotten about it. So she brought up a small star map to help her demonstrate.
Of course he got it almost immediately. Once you saw the map, it was pretty obvious. She’d been hoping the rumors about Grashnaria having the ability to repel the Galra had been true because they would’ve been able to help them close off that tunnel. As it stood, it would be a bit of a strain on their resources for a bit, but this sector was far enough away from Central Command that the Empire was unlikely to make it a priority to regain. 
In a way, things had worked out better. With Coalition volunteers on Grashnaria building weapons and training them, they’d gradually become strong enough on their own to handle routine imperial patrols and the like. And it fostered relationships between Coalition members. She was actually quite pleased, and that was before Shiro complimented her on her plan. “Textbook pincer movement.”
“Cutting off their supply lines, just as you suggested so long ago.” She sent the screen away.
He grinned. “I didn’t know you paid so much attention.”
The words were out of her mouth before she thought about them. “It’s hard not to pay attention to you. I-I mean,” she rushed to clarify, feeling her face heat again, “you’re… you’re my cons- co-leader, after all.”
He laughed. “You were going to say ‘consort.’”
“We were there for nearly two movements; it’s gotten to be habit,” she grumbled defensively.
“Yeah, I was kind of getting used to it, too.”
They fell into silence again. The words had to be said, and they had to be said now, before she left. She had to get this out. And if her carefully-planned speech was gone, well, she’d just have to improvise. She’d done it before in much more dire circumstances than this. “Shiro, I feel like there’s something we need to talk about before I leave.”
He nodded and said, “Of course,” but he looked like a man being led to die. 
For just a tick, she thought about dropping it. But no, that wouldn’t work; he’d call her out on it. She’d raised an issue; he’d want to know what it was. Well, the only way out of this is through it. “All this time, being with you, it… it’s been very nice. Even knowing it was all for the mission, it felt good to have someone beside me, to have you there to rely on all the time. It’s been a long, long time since I was able to feel that sense of warmth and security with someone.”
“I’m glad I could be of help to you,” he replied, sounding a bit stiffer than she might have liked. 
She licked her lips and made herself look into his eyes. Those eyes she could so easily lose herself in, if he’d let her. “I… I’ll miss it. A lot. I’ll miss you. And not just because it’ll be a bit before we get back to Grashnaria. I…” She took in a breath and exhaled slowly. “I hope I’m not overstepping my bounds here, and I want you to understand you’re under no obligation at all, but I thought… well, being married would be a bit much, but perhaps we could…” She tsked at her idiotic babbling, cleared her throat, squared her shoulders, and lifted her chin. She summoned up her reserves of royal attitude to say formally, “Takashi Shirogane, I would very much like to court you, if you are willing.”
And now he was the one who seemed thrown. “‘Court?�� As in… date?”
Her brow furrowed. “I’m not sure what a fruit has to do with courtship?” She was mentally searching for other meanings of ‘date’ in English: a set day upon the calendar, a verb meaning to discover the age of something…
“A fruit? Oh, no, not… not that kind of dates. Um… dating is… going out with someone, getting to know one another, but… in a more romantic fashion?” He was blushing adorably as he explained it.
“Oh, yes! In that case, I would like to date you,” she said happily, before adding, “But only if you want to! I don’t want you to do this because I’m a princess or because you feel you have to.”
He was beaming, and she thought her heart would burst right out of her at the sight of him so happy about this. “Allura, I would love nothing more than to be able to date you.”
She felt happy beyond words to find or express her feelings. Courting, dating, whatever it was called, Shiro would be her romantic partner, and that meant…
“KISS KISS KISS KISS KISS KISS!” the Paladins were chanting through her comm links.
“Oh, honestly,” she huffed, turning off the earrings’ comm link function. She knew she was blushing, partially out of the obvious embarrassment and partially because she’d completely forgotten that they’d be able to hear them now that they were all back in the Castle of Lions. “Paladins.” Just for that, I might not share any fruetana with you lot.
“I’m sorry about that,” Shiro apologized, red-faced himself. As always, he was taking responsibility for his team, as a good leader should.
But she wasn’t about to blame him for their behavior. “You’ve nothing to be sorry for. Just promise me you’ll give them extra duties while I’m gone?”
He chuckled warmly. “I’ll keep them busy.”
“But, you know…” She stepped closer to him. “Their idea isn’t a bad one.” Their idea had, in fact, been what she’d been hoping for after all of this was done.
She watched him lick his lips as he nodded a little. “I agree. But…”
“But?” she asked, letting herself brazenly rest a hand on his hip and sliding the other up over his well-developed chest. The ability to touch him like this was just too hard to resist.
“But we know the Castle has security cams everywhere. They’re probably watching us right now.”
She absolutely believed they were, the damn little voyeurs. But she was past caring. “Let them,” she whispered as she leaned in. “I’m tired of pretending I don’t want this.” And, at long last, she kissed him.
She was distantly aware of a thudding sound, but it was hard to care about that with Shiro’s strong arms wrapping around her as he returned her kiss. She pulled him in closer to her, careful not to hold him too tightly. Kissing Shiro, holding Shiro, being kissed and held in return, it… it felt right, like she was exactly where she should be, and she never wanted this to end.
It would have to, of course. She and Coran had to go back to Olkarion and recruit volunteers; the Paladins would stay here to protect Grashnaria in the meantime. They had obligations to see to, and neither of them could turn their backs on their responsibilities. But for right now, she let all her walls drop, all her masks fall away, so they could be as close as possible.
And even when they broke for air, they stayed close, holding one another, foreheads touching, eyes closed to better bask in the warmth and comfort of this moment. Duty would call, they would answer. But they would do it together, no matter how many worlds apart they might be.
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No Longer The Sharpshooter
“-ance!  Lance, you gotta open your eyes, dude!”  Lance let out a low groan and his heavy eyes began to inch open for him to see Hunk’s worried face hovering over his own.  Lance could see Shiro and Keith behind his best friend and slowly pushed himself up so he could get a better look around the dank cell.  He’d definitely classify this as a cell.
Shiro was clutching his shoulder with his robotic arm, blood seeping out between his metal fingers.  Keith looked all scratched up with small cuts littering his body, one especially deep on left cheek that seemed to still be leaking drops of blood.  Lance looked even closer at Hunk as well to notice that he was pretty badly roughed up as well and was definitely favoring his right ankle.
“What’d I miss?  Damn, I hope no cute aliens passed by while I was out,” Lance quipped, attempting to make the atmosphere a little lighter.  Shiro sighed and gave a lopsided smile, appreciating Lance’s attempt to lighten the situation.
“We’re in Zarkon’s torturing chamber, one of them at least, now really isn’t the time to be joking around, dude.”  Hunk rested his back up against the wall and sighed while rubbing a muscle out in his neck.  “We only woke up a few minutes ago though, we’re just basing that off of Shiro’s uh,” Hunk shot an apologetic glance at Shiro, “experiences.”
Lance sat up and a pained yelp slipped out from his lips, it felt like his back had been set on fire.  “I-I think my back might be hurt,” The Cuban gritted out through his teeth.  Lance wiped at the crusty feeling under his nose to have his hand come back tinted a dark red.  Keith shuffled around to get behind Lance, grimacing at the sight.
“The armor on your back has been completely burnt off, man, how the hell did you not notice this until now?”  Keith bit his bottom lip and his eyebrows furrowed together, an expression he rarely made towards the Blue Paladin.  Shiro muttered a curse under his breath and managed to shuffle over behind Lance as well, hissing sharply at the sight.
Hunk fidgeted with his hands and looked up at Lance with a concerned gaze.  “Damn, I hope Allura, Pidge, and Coran get here soon, we need to patch this up ASAP,” Keith grumbled.
“I just hope Pidge got out safely with their brother and dad.”  Hunk began to wring his hands together again and Shiro waved his prosthetic arm, saying something to attempt to dismiss the negativity.  Lance wasn’t listening to those two, he was focusing on Keith memorizing his surroundings.
“Pidge got out fine, Hunk, but how’re we going to get out safely?”  Keith brooded, moving back to the other side to stand up against the wall, Shiro had also moved to sit across from Lance and next to Hunk.
Shiro had a conflicted expression on and Keith nudged his shoulder, “Maybe next time someone opens the door, we push through and try to get out?”
Shiro seemed to actually ponder that over for a second before shaking his head, “It’s too risky, Keith, there’s too many flaws with that plan.”  Keith pouted and opened his mouth, ready to shoot something back at the Black Paladin, but was cut off when the doors to the cell hissed open.  Two Galra soldiers walked in and stood there, staring at the paladins.
Keith looked at Shiro, Hunk, and then Lance before he jumped up.  In a flash, Keith had the soldier closest to him down, out cold.  The other soldier hopped into action, calling something out while getting his gun out of his holster.
In a flash, the bullet pierced through Keith’s side at the same time Shiro screamed out, “No!”
Despite the pain that was still flaring up on Lance’s back, he dove forwards to make sure Keith didn’t fall down too harshly.  Shiro also dove towards the two, pulling Keith farther away from the soldier that still had his gun raised and ready to fire.  Then, to make the whole shitstorm better, Zarkon in all his fucked glory walked in.
“Which failure was the one acting up?”
“The Red Paladin, my fiercest leader.”
Zarkon snatched the weapon forcefully away from his soldier and raised it up, aiming for Keith’s head.  Without thinking, Lance jumped up, ignoring the tearing and burning feeling in his back, getting in the way of the shot.  “Move out of the way, Blue Paladin, you will never be worth a tic of my time.”
Lance swallowed thickly, not trusting himself right now, “No, I won’t let you hurt my friend any further!”  His back burned with every single breath, he pretended it was just another sunburn after a long day at a beach with his family.  Zarkon frowned bitterly and silently gave the weapon back to his soldier.
Quick as lightning, Zarkon’s hand shot out to grip Lance’s upper arm with enough strength to make the Blue Paladin exclaim in pain.  “Ha, you humans are so weak.”  Zarkon’s laughter was like nails scraping down a chalkboard, making all four paladins in the room flinch.  Zarkon’s grip tightened even more, making the Cuban fret that the enemy was going to break his arm, before throwing Lance into the arms of the closest soldier.
“Hold him there.”  Zarkon’s voice had dropped to an icy tone, making shivers run down everyone’s spines, even his own soldiers.  Zarkon disappeared from the room without sparing a glance at anyone inside it before coming back, clutching at something small in his hand.
“Don’t hurt him!  He’s just a kid!”  Shiro suddenly yelled, realizing what Zarkon was about to do.  The leader of Voltron was petrified, but no way in hell was he going to let someone hurt one of his friends in front of him without putting up one hell of a fight.  Keith lay motionless on the Black Paladin’s lap while Hunk was applying pressure on the bulletwound.
Zarkon sighed as if he were annoyed with everyone in the room before focusing back on Lance, hatred blazing in his golden eyes.  Zarkon grabbed Lance’s chin harshly, making the Cuban flinch, “Stick your tongue out, trash.”  Protests came from behind the three, but no one dared to jump up to try to physically help out their friend.
Lance smirked, “At least buy me a drink first.”
His snarky comment earned him a harsh slap that resonated throughout the small cell that made the others jerk.  Lance spit blood onto the floor, groaning in pain.  “How dare you talk to me like that,” Zarkon shoved his soldier away and picked Lance up by the neck, just holding him suspended in the air.  The Blue Paladin struggled, attempting to draw air into his lungs.
Zarkon drew up his other hand to reveal a sharp blade that glistened in the dim light.  He slammed Lance into the ground, making the teen gasp and arch his back in pain.  He gagged and promptly vomited all over the ground beside him and on his chest, making Zarkon’s glare get even sharper.  Zarkon raised the knife up to Lance’s face, finally breaking the Blue Paladin’s brave face.
Lance struggled, screaming, begging, doing everything he could do to get the knife further away from his face.  Shiro blanched, recoiled, and then looked away from the scene in front of him.  “Please, please don’t do this!”  Lance’s voice was quivering and shaky from the tears that were collecting in his eyes.
Then, without warning, Zarkon brought the knife down into Lance’s right eye.  The Blue Paladin froze before arching his back and letting out a throat-ripping scream.  Zarkon only put the tip of the knife into the socket, but then he started twisting the knife.  Gut-wrenching screams and agony filled cries flooded the room in a matter of moments.  Tears poured out of Lance’s left eye, blood out of the other.
Hunk sat there, frozen, watching the scene with silent tears dripping down his cheeks, Keith was blinking back into existence with a dazed and worried expression, and Shiro.  Shiro was ashen, his eyes glazed over, and he wouldn’t stop glaring at the corner of the cell as if it was the one digging a blade into his friend’s eye.  Zarkon backed away from Lance and tossed the knife at the soldier before sauntering out of the dank cell.
The soldier grabbed his friend and left the room, looking up briefly to send an almost apologetic glance at the paladins.  He looked at the door, looked back at the paladins and his friend, and walked out.
The soldier left the door wide open.
A few seconds passed before Kolivan and Pidge showed up at the entrance of the cell.  In their arms were the paladin’s helmets and bayards.  Kolivan froze briefly when he saw Lance splayed out in front of him, quickly putting Lance’s helmet on and putting the bayard back into his suit.  Kolivan then swooped down to pick Lance up into his arms.  Keith was already stumbling over towards Pidge to grab his helmet and bayard despite the literal hole in his side.  Hunk caught both his and Shiro’s helmet and bayard, coaxing Shiro to snap back into it.
Shiro numbly took his helmet from Hunk and put it on, immediately switching his comms on, “Allura, what’s the plan?”  Hunk sighed with relief and stood up, trying not to put much pressure on his right ankle.  Pidge noticed this and jogged over to let Hunk lean on the little hacker, they shared weak grins with each other.
“Shiro, thank god, just follow Kolivan and Pidge out, how many healing pods should I get ready?”
“Three,” Shiro followed behind the rest of the others towards the hangar.  The Black Paladin nearly passed out with relief when they reached the hangar without much trouble, only a few soldiers showed up.  Reluctantly, Shiro let Pidge, Keith, and Hunk go into one of the pods while he stayed with Kolivan and Lance.
“Kolivan, give Lance to me, I can hold him while you get us back to the castle.”  The Marmora leader didn’t hesitate to hand the Blue Paladin over to the Black Paladin before taking his place behind the controls.  Carefully, Shiro edged Lance’s helmet off to lightly inspect his eye.
Immediately, Shiro’s breath hitched when he saw the extent of the damage.  He did everything in his power not to lose it.  He doubted Lance would ever be able to see out of his right eye again, which would make it hard for him to wield a gun as his weapon.
The Black Paladin sank to the floor with Lance in his arms, tears were beginning to pool up in his eyes.  Lance groaned and made a choking noise, “Lance?  Lance, can you hear me?”  Shiro sunk his teeth into his lip hard enough to taste the tang of blood.  The Black Paladin ripped his helmet off so he could gently rest his forehead against the Blue Paladin’s.  “Lance, I know you can make it through this, you have to, please.  I need you, Lance.”
Shiro glanced up through the windshield to see the somewhat familiar landscape of the hangar.  He pulled his helmet on and carefully slipped Lance’s on his head before picking up his teammate bridal style.  Kolivan landed the pod and the doors hissed open before a ramp extended to the ground.
“Coran, I’ll meet you in the med bay, I should be there soon,” Shiro clenched his jaw once he finished his sentence.  Kolivan and the leader of Voltron met eyes and the two nodded, a silent agreement passing between the both of them.  Shiro rushed out of the pod and out of the hangar, making a beeline for the medical bay.
He made it there in record time, “Shiro, my boy, place Lance into the pod carefully, it’s all ready for him.”  Coran moved out of the way so the Black Paladin could place Lance into the healing pod.  It slowly hissed shut and left the room in complete silence, “My boy, my poor boy,” Coran rested his palm against the pod and let out a shuddering breath.
Shiro turned around to see the others hobble into the medical bay.  Quickly, the Black Paladin rushed over to help Keith stumble over towards another open healing pod.  “Wait, wait, Shiro, not yet.”  Keith inhaled sharply and attempted to push Shiro away from him.
“Your arm, get it checked out, okay?”  Shiro bit his tongue, but nodded, “Shiro, really, get it checked out.”
“I will, I will, okay?  Now get in the pod, Keith,” Shiro helped Keith into the pod before shutting it and moving out of the way so Coran could properly set it up.  The Black Paladin glanced over at the other two, who had been joined by Allura, and let out a sigh of relief when everyone who was injured was safely in a pod.
A pang of pain shot through Shiro’s shoulder and he absently rubbed at it with his prosthetic hand.  Allura gasped loudly and rushed over to her paladin’s side, “Shiro!  Your shoulder, please get in a healing pod as well!”  Coran came over as well, pushing Shiro down onto a nearby stool.
“You should’ve told me you were injured when you brought Number Three in!”  Coran fussed and began to examine Shiro’s shoulder before shaking his head.  “You’ll need to hop into a pod for a jiffy!”
The Black Paladin bit his lip and shook his head, “No thank you, Coran, I want to make sure the others get out fine.”
Coran seemed to ponder over those words briefly and hopped up, checking the healing pods that were occupied.  “You’ll get out before all of the others and if you don’t, I’ll get you out, is that acceptable?”  Coran didn’t wait for a response, he just gently shoved Shiro into one of the nearby pods, not giving the leader a chance to speak up before the pod hissed closed.
Everything was a blurred and confused mess as Lance began to drop forward and out of the healing pod.  He groaned when his cheek came in contact with a cold, hard chest, “How are you feeling, Lance?”  With bleary eyes, the Blue Paladin looked up to see Shiro in all his concerned glory.
“Just dandy, how’re you, Space Daddy?”  Lance’s words were slurred and laced heavily with a teasing tone, attempting to get a rise out of the older male.  A loud groans came from behind Shiro and Lance peeked over the Black Paladin’s shoulder to see the rest of the team.
Shiro stepped away from Lance hesitantly for Hunk to immediately take his place, giving his best friend a bone-crushing hug.  Once Hunk set his friend down though, a soft, sad smile appeared on his face.  Lance tilted his head and arched an eyebrow, making the indent where his eye should be move.  Hunk inhaled sharply and shook his head, “Don’t worry about it just yet, buddy.”
Once Pidge saw the opportunity, she dove for Lance and hugged him tightly around the waist with her face buried in his chest.  He leaned down a little to wrap an arm around the younger paladin and to rest his other hand on top of Pidge’s head.  “Hey there, Gremlin, thanks for getting us out of there.”
Pidge jabbed Lance in his side and then separated from the older male, acting as if the hug had never happened.  Coran and Allura picked a side and hugged their paladin tightly, letting Lance know they loved him as well.  Keith stood out of the group with his arms crossed and a stern look on his face.
Coran and Allura backed off and Lance opened his arms up, “Either come here, salt boy, or I’ll go there.”  Keith sighed heavily and walked forward before awkwardly hugging Lance and quickly separating.  “Haha, you see, that wasn’t that painful!”
Keith punched Lance’s shoulder a little harshly and smirked, “Shut up, idiot.”  Lance threw his head back with a loud laugh and attempted to punch Keith right back, aiming for his shoulder.
However, his hand hit empty space, making him stumble forward.
Shiro shot out to stable Lance with one arm holding the Blue Paladin’s hand and the other on the small of his back.  “Lance, are you okay?”  Lance looked over at Shiro and everything came rushing back at him, including the traumatic experience of Zarkon stabbing his eye out.
A harsh shiver ran down the Blue Paladin’s spine and he gently shoved Shiro away, “I’m sorry, I need a moment to myself.”  The Black Paladin backed off with a concerned aura radiating from him.  Everyone parted to let Lance hobble by, all looking equally worried for their friend.  Lance swayed back and forth with each step and leaned on anything nearby for stability.
Once outside of the medical bay, Lance raised a shaky hand up to his face.  He started with touching his cheek and slowly inching it up higher until it rested where his eye should be.  He took a unsteady breath and pushed down, not feeling any pain.  His skin had healed over where his eye had been, leaving just an indent in his face.  Tears welled up in his good eye and a few leaked out, leaving one side of his face wet while the other was dry as the Sahara desert.
Lance let out a half-assed chuckle and continued down the hallway, leaning heavily on the wall for support.  He slips into his room to pull his armor on with trembling hands, fumbling with the clasps so badly he nearly gives up.  He yanks his helmet and bayard off his bed and put them on, hoping they’ll give him a sense of normalcy.  They don’t.
The Blue Paladin begins to make his way down the hallway again, wanting to get out of his self-deprecating thoughts.  He ends up outside the training deck and only has a moment of hesitation before walking in, head held high.  He stumbles around a bit without something supporting him, but he shrugs it off.  “Start training level one!”
A loud buzz echoed through the room before a bot dropped from the ceiling in front of Lance.  The Sharpshooter of the team raised his weapon and fired away, missing each time.  He began to panic as the bot got closer and closer to him until it knocked him back a few feet with a jab to the side.  He skidded a bit and raised the gun up to his eye, feeling despair when he saw nothing through the scope.
While stuck in his thoughts, the bot had gotten closer yet again and swung at the Blue Paladin, missing him by a hair.  In another bout of panic, Lance went trigger crazy and shot the bot down in a flurry of clumsy movements.  He was panting heavily and sank to his knees, “End training!”
The only thing he was good at was taken away from him by Zarkon.
Being the Sharpshooter was the only thing Lance had.  It was the only thing that made him useful to the team and now he couldn’t even do that.  He chuckled sadly, “Now I’m completely useless to the team.”  Lance doubled over and pressed his helmet against the ground, suppressing the urge to start bawling.
“I should leave.  Hell, I doubt they’ll even notice.  I’ll leave everything to Allura, she’d be a much better paladin then I could ever be.”  Lance mumbled aloud to himself, falling quickly into a pit of anguish.
He shot up to his feet and decided he’d go looking for Hunk, he should at least tell his best friend he was leaving.  Lance knew the Yellow Paladin wouldn’t agree, but the Blue Paladin also knew he could probably convince Hunk to leave him alone long enough for him to sneak out.  Lance tripped over his own feet and slammed into the wall, next to the door to the makeshift living room.
“-abye you should take over the blue lion for now?”  Lance’s blood turned to ice and he froze against the wall.  That was Shiro’s voice talking about someone taking over Blue.
“Shiro, you know I couldn’t do that to Lance!  He’s lost so much, I couldn’t dare take away Blue as well,” Allura sounded distressed, Lance could tell that much even through the door.  The Cuban pressed an ear up against the door, trying to hear better.
“Allura, you and I both know he isn’t in the right mind to be piloting Blue right now.  I don’t want to see him get hurt again, you weren’t there, you didn’t see exactly what happened!  He can take her back once he adjusts to everything, I just don’t want him being in harm's way right now,”  Shiro’s voice kept getting louder and louder, but Lance tuned it out.
Laughter bubbled up from his chest and tears welled up in his eye, even his crush didn’t want him on the team anymore.  Lance stumbled away from the door and bolted for his room, bumping into the wall constantly.  Once safely in his room, Lance ripped his helmet and armor off, nearly breaking a clasp or two in the process.
He pulled his usual clothes on over the spandex jumpsuit Lance wore underneath his armor, fully knowing there were more around.  He tossed the armor and helmet onto the bed, flinching when they knocked loudly against the wall.  Clumsily, he grabbed a bag from the closet and stuffed a few outfits he’d found inside it that fit him.
The soon-to-be ex-paladin also stuffed some knick knacks that he had collected over the year into the bag, including a blade for protection.  Lance slung the bag over his shoulder and glanced at the armor lying on the bed with his eye before sneaking out.  He cautiously made his way into the hangar full of spare pods, making sure nobody was around as he ducked around corners.
Thankfully, nobody was out and around and Lance made it to the hangar without a single issue.  Lance attempted to hop into one of the spare pods and ended up slamming his knee as did, he could already feel the bruise forming.  He took a deep breath to calm himself and ready himself for what he was about to do.
“I’m sorry, Blue, I’m gonna miss you, baby.”  Lance closed his eye and turned the pod on, quickly opening the hangar doors.  The pod shot out of the hangar and went soaring out of the castle with no destination in mind.  Lance numbly inputs some numbers so the pod can run on autopilot and closes his eye.
He could feel the familiar burning of tears welling up in his eyes, but he tried to ignore it.  A thought popped into Lance’s mind and he sat up quickly, jumping for the controls.  He would program the pod to go back home, it was a coward thing to do, but he missed his family enough to push that cowardly feeling away.
Lance tipped his head back and sighed loudly while digging his palms into his eyes.  He would miss his space family badly, but he knew they didn’t need him around anymore so why bother staying?
The ex-paladin reclined back in the pilot chair and closed his eyes, thinking a nap would be a good way to pass the time.  He laid there for what felt like half an hour or so before he began to doze off only to immediately snap back up into attention.  The pod had jerked to a stop.
To Lance’s shock, the black lion was biting down on the front of the pod and Shiro was standing right in front of his lion.  Lance bit his lip and looked away, but Shiro seemed to be having none of that.  He banged his fist on the glass and pointed to the corner of the pod where a helmet rested.  With a heavy sigh, Lance fetched the helmet and pulled it on before popping the pod open.
Shiro immediately dove forward the best he could and wrapped his arms around Lance tightly.  The Cuban froze and slowly returned the hug as tears welled up in his eye once again.  Shiro seemed to notice and punched something on the console before grabbing both Lance’s hand and his bag.  The two went back to Black, who had opened up for her paladin and Blue’s paladin to enter.
Once safely inside of Black, Shiro ripped his helmet off and tossed it away, “Lance, do you realize how badly you scared me?”
Lance took his helmet off and looked away, “I,” he wanted to say that he didn’t care, but he’d be lying.  “I heard what you said, Shiro.”  Shiro recoiled and took a step towards the younger male with his hands extended in front of him, wanting to rest them on Lance’s shoulder.
“What’d you hear?”
“You were going to give Blue to Allura, weren’t you?  Don’t try to lie either, I know that I’m just a burden to the team!”  Lance raised his head and met Shiro’s eyes, the Cuban’s eye was filled with tears that were beginning to drip onto his cheeks.  Shiro recoiled and tears welled up in his eyes as well.
“Lance, I only had the best for you in mind!  I was going to talk to you about this as well, I thought you’d want to wait until you got used to everything, but I realize I should have waited to talk to you about it first.”  More tears spilled down Lance’s cheek and wiped at them furiously, wishing they’d just disappear.
“Shiro, I don’t belong on the team, even before this, I was always the weak link, the goof.”
“That’s complete and utter bullshit, Lance, you’ll always have a place in the team!  Damn it, Lance, I love you!  I want your place on the team to be by my side, I want to always make sure you’re okay and that’s why I said those shitty things earlier!”
Lance froze with a gaping mouth and started wailing, tears falling down harder than they have in a long time.  Shiro jerked and wrapped his arms tightly around the Blue Paladin, burrowing his face in the crook of Lance’s neck.  “Why are you making it so difficult to leave?  God, I love you!  I love you too, Shiro!”
The Cuban sobbed into Shiro’s chest and wrapped his arms around the older paladin as well, basking in his warmth.  Shiro straightened his back so he could look at the younger’s face, “Lance, can I kiss you?”  Lance brought a hand up to his face to wipe a tear away and nodded, reaching up to wrap his arms around Shiro’s neck.
Shiro smiled softly and leaned down to connect the two.  They both smiled into the kiss and giggled when they realized the other was smiling as well.  Shiro pressed his forehead against Lance’s, “Will you become my right-hand man, Lance McClain?”
Lance made a choking sound and nodded furiously, “I would love to, Shiro!  I’m so sorry I upset you and ran off without talking to you first!”  Lance pulled Shiro down to connect their mouths again, relishing in the softness of the other’s lips.  A loud purr that shook them in the slightest made the two jerk away in a blushing mess.
“We should probably get back to the others now, they were just as worried as I was, if not more.”
Lance laughed and Shiro nearly melted at the soft sound that resonated throughout the black lion.  With a sigh of relief, the Black Paladin took his seat in front of the controls and glanced behind him, “You should probably sit down somewhere, you made it pretty far before I found you.”
A shit-eating grin enveloped Lance’s face and he tried his best to sashay over to Shiro to bluntly sit in his lap.  The Black Paladin blushed furiously, but tried to act as if nothing had changed.  With a soft laugh that sounded just like bells jingling, Lance moved to straddle Shiro.
He somehow managed to maneuver his legs behind the Black Paladin and tightened his grip around Shiro’s neck so his nose brushed against his collarbone.  Before they knew it, Black was landing in her hangar and the two had to go meet the others.  However, before they left Black, the two shared yet another kiss.
Lance had only taken one step inside of the common room before he was tackled in a hug from Hunk and Pidge, both a complete mess.  “Lance, my bro, I thought you weren’t coming back!”
“How dare you scare us like that, jerk!”
The Cuban could only laugh at the two and hugged them back with the same strength as they gave.  Once the three separated, Coran jumped in.  “We have some good news for you, my boy!  Number five and two looked over prosthetics and found out a way we could fix you up a new eye!”
Lance froze and unconsciously raised a hand up to the spot where his eye should be and gave a watery grin.  “God, I fucking love you all so much, I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to thank you enough.”
“Just being here with us is enough, Lance,” Shiro wrapped an arm around Lance and gave his boyfriend a gentle smile that was full of love.
This thing has all I’ve been talking about for the past week and I can only thank @pan-space-ranger for helping me throughout this whole mess!
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constelacionde-orion ¡ 7 years
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Chinese Lanterns
Prompt : You got lost in Chinatown with Jason Todd, maybe your wishes come true after those floating Chinese Lanterns. 
A/N : Grammar mistakes of course.
Pairing : Jason Todd x Reader
Song: Chinese Lanterns 
Warnings: Swearing, just fluff for once. 
Word Count: 2471 
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*Not my Gif, Credit to the owner*
So, why are you two here? it’s a very good question, both of you don’t know what the hell happened.
It was supposed to be easy peasy lemon squeezy, well, at least Batman said it hours ago. ‘Grab them and give them to Gordon’, oh, but no one knew that this motherfuckers had powers, one with teletransportation and the other could multiply himself, fucking great.
Jason went after the jumper guy, leaving you with the other. Gotham city felt like a giant mirror house, you tried to grab this little bastard million of times when it was actually dust, motherfucker. Still, you both didn’t gave up and you kept on chasing them in the busy Gotham street.
For your luck, everything was turning great after minutes, you shot the weird guy on the ankle but somehow he could still running, but, at least you knew this one was the original.
“Lil’ batsy, I’m pushing him to a nearby alley close to you, make the other guy go there!” The Red hood said in the comm.
“Got it Red, give me 5” you told him trying to make this guy enter into the alley.
Both of you made the pair of fools enter to the alley, but they had other plans, you saw the other guy grabbing the other one and you realized.
“They’re going to scape!” you shouted, in a swift motion you grabbed one of them from their bicep while Jason grabbed you from your cape (because, Batsy likes capes)
And then you are here, in New York City, Chinatown, and lonely alley to be exact, (thanks god, no one near). Your head aches badly as you try to get up from the dirty floor, but something pulled you down, mostly choking you, you turn around and you see Jason still grabbing your cape.
“Jay” you tell him kneeling in the floor and shaking his shoulder, but he doesn’t answers.
“Awh, fuck! Jason!” you shake his shoulder harder this time but no response. You hear people coming and you drag Jason behind the smelly garbage dump.
“You better wake up soon you ass, we are in a lot of trouble” you said under your breath.  
You somehow managed to place Jason head on your lap as you took out his red helmet, you did it too with your own. You couldn’t help it but stare at him and a soft smile appeared on your lips, why? oh well… it’s kind of complicated, at first you truly hate him and vice versa, this little sassy bastard made you angry pretty often, and so you made the same with him. But lately you figured out that you actually enjoy his company and you thought maybe he was in the same page as you, but you didn’t know. And somehow, your hands made their way to his hair, stroking softly his raven hair.
“Jason Peter Todd, last time, if you don’t wake up, 'am throwing you in the garbage” you said with a soft smile.
“You aren’t that strong” he said, without opening his eyes.
“I am, skunk, so let’s go, get up” you said with a roll of your eyes.
“Excuse you, but I had a long run and I really want to sleep right now” he said with a sigh.
“I don’t know if you’ve realized but, we aren’t in Gotham, without those fuckers and we are actually behid the garbage, but fine, if you want to sleep here, be my guest, I’m going to find something to eat” you said trying to get up.
And seconds later the awful smell seamed to increased, making Jason get up in a swift motion almost choking with the odor.
“Fine! But okay smartass, we can’t go out like these!” he said motioning his fingers to our clothes.
“Why not?, It’s halloween anyways” you said with a smirk and walking outside the alley, “Just, don’t put on your helmet” you said while looking back.
“We can’t! We are The Red Hood and-” He said with wide eyes “And a girl with a Batgirl costume, you can be the little Red Riding Hood if you want or you can stay here with the smelly garbage” you said with your arms crossed.
“If you feel so bad, close your goddamn jacket!” you said after Jason didn’t moved from his place.
“It doesn’t- I can’t… it doesn’t close up” he muttered under his breath.
“You gotta be kidding me!, you bought a jacket of a small size?!” you said with a chuckle.
“Shut up” He said with a scoff.
“Fine, come here” You said with another chuckle.
Jason walked towards you until he was few inches away from you, awful close to you, you tried not to care but fuck, he was handsome, no one could deny.
“Earth to Y/N, what are you going to do then?” he said with an eyebrow raised.
“You’re going to be our great B, just for tonight” you said while taking off your cape.
“You’re joking, right?” Jason said with a roll of his eyes.
“No, I’m not, now give me your jacket aaaaand your helmet” you said, your hand holding your cape.
“As you wish, Little Red Riding Hood” he said when he gave them to you.
Jason put on the cape and he couldn’t deny it looked great, once more he got one, he was about to tell you about it when he saw you on his brown jacket, your hair floating with the chilly wind while you place his helmet between your hip and your arm, you looked like a dream for him, he snapped out of his daydream when he saw your mouth moving.
“Sorry, what?” he said trying to sound as nothing happened in his mind.
“Shall we?” you said once more walking away from him.
'Fuck’ Jason thought in his mind, his mind couldn’t erase this picture.
You two walked in Chinatown, thanks God it was actually Halloween, many people was walking there with many costumes, as so many other wanted a picture with both of you, but you wanted to eat, like badly so you got inside a tiny restaurant with Jason behind you. You sat on a table together, his helmet on the empty side, while you looked at the menu.
And Jason couldn’t help but stare at you, the way the red lights from outside danced on your face was stunning, he couldn’t help but memorize every detail from you, how long your eyelashes were, your hair, your nose, those lips, fuck, he got it bad when it was about you.
You put the menu higher on your face trying to hide your red cheeks, he was looking at you with some kind of spark on his eyes that you never saw before. Your mind was making tricks on you, why was Jason Todd looking at you like that?!, you tried to stay calm but you couldn’t with him in front of you! looking at you like that!
After an awkward silence the waiter came and you two said what you wanted, well, the first thing your eyes saw when you entered in panic. And then the awkward silence arrived again, without the shield of the Menu to hide your red cheeks you tried to gulp.
'What the hell it’s happening to me?!’ you thought when you felt warm every passing second, you gave Jason a smile which he returned and you were lost in his blue eyes.
'Y/N fucking hell, look outside at least, but not at HIM!’ you yelled at yourself in your mind and there you saw a paper in the wall next to the window, you tried to read it but, fucking sake, you didn’t understand anything, the waiter arrived with your drinks and you asked him about it.
“So, you want to go?” Jason asked you when the waiter left you both alone again.
“I have never seen the floating lights” you said with a soft chuckle “God, I felt like Rapunzel” you said with soft laugh.
Jason looked at you confused with a eyebrow raised.
“You better be kidding me right now Jason Todd! I swear to God if you haven’t seen Tangled I’m going to rip your head off right now!” you said not believing him.
“Don’t make a messy work then” he said with a smirk.
You gasped at this, but… how? how he hasn’t saw that movie.
“Oh my god Y/N, it’s just a movie” Jason said with a chuckle.
“I don’t care what you have to do when we arrive Gotham, you are going watch it” you said in a serious tone.
Jason gave you a smirk and then he added a 'Only with you’ and fucking jesus christ, thank God you didn’t choked there with your own air, your cheeks went more red that the lights outside, why was he doing this?!
Time skipt and when you were going out the waiter arrived again with your fortune cookies, you used to love them when you were little so you looked for your fortune inside and you gasped again, fucking fate.
’A love wish it’s going to come true in a near future’ fucking cheesy, fucking life, fucking love, fucking everything, this was so cruel right now.
Jason looked at your wide eyes on a tiny paper and he wondered what could possibly go wrong with a fortune cookie, like it’s a fortune, right?. He looked down at his hands when he opened his and well, he feel you now…
’Your soulmate it’s near, don’t waste more time’ there must be a logical explanation for this cheesy quote.
“What about yours, Jay?” you asked him trying to compose yourself.
“Normal one, you know, luck” he said with a smile, he didn’t ask yours afraid you might told him before.
“Well, Bruce says he had a like three hours before they come for us, so maybe we can go to that lanterns show” Jason said while looking at the night sky.
“You want to go?” You asked hopeful, but trying to stay chill, like 'you know, lights, common thing’
“Well, you looked pretty cheerful with the idea” He said with a smile, that beautiful smile.
“Let’s go then! I know you’ll love them!” you told him and you didn’t realized that you’ve taken his hand in yours and that’s why you missed the red cheeks on the Red Hood himself.
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“So… I don’t want to crush your dreams but, where are the lights?” Jason said when he saw in fact, no lights.
“You silly, we have to buy one and then…magic happens” you say, your eyes scanning the place searching for the dude with the lanterns.
“You know I don’t believe in magic, right?” Jason said still looking at the dark place.
“Says the guy that came back to life” you said with a roll of your eyes, you realized you were going to the same place called 'This near to punch Jason Todd right in his beautiful face’
“It’s different actually, and more painfull for sure” he said with a scoff.
“So you admit you believe in magic” you said in matter of fact.
“Fuck you” Jason told you with a chuckle.
'Please’ your brain said and you gasped at the thought, what the hell was happening to you tonight!
You finally found the guy and bought a lantern, he explained you all about it and in minutes you were back with Jason. We was smiling down at you, you were so happy in that moment, and Jason couldn’t stop himself by thinking you were his soulmate, the loves of his life.
“Jay, did you listen to me?” he heard your voice and fuck, no, he didn’t listen to you at all.
'Why the hell is he so cute?’ you thought once more looking at his blue eyes.
“They’re counting until 10…” you said but somehow you attention was still on Jason’s face.
“Hmm, better start lightning this thing” he said, his gaze still looking at you, at your eyes, and again that fucking spark.
He really couldn’t hold himself anymore, for some reason he couldn’t comprehend he wanted to be closer and closer to you, feel your skin and your lips against his, he wanted to be with you every day now on, and fuck,when you smiled at him with such tenderness he realized why he had those thoughts about you, even those before this night, he love you, maybe in fact, you were his soulmate.
While looking at Jason’s eyes you realized, it hit you like a fucking thunder, you realized why at the beginning you hated him and why now you wanted to kiss him hard on his lips, it wasn’t a fucking headache, you love Jason Todd.
You tried to look down before doing something stupid, you reached a lightner in Jason’s jacket and light the lantern. And again, Jason couldn’t help but be in awe at how the light makes your face glow.
You heard people yelling the numbers and you looked at Jason, you gave him a smile and you placed the lantern in your’s and Jason’s hands. You looked at him and there you realized how close his face was to yours, he was in front of you, the light making his eyes glow in a beautiful shade of blue. In any moment you leave his gaze, actually so found yourself staring at his eyes, then at his lips, and Jason was making the same thing.
You heard people yell 'one’ and you felt Jason fingers holding yours as you set your lantern up in the sky. You looked up and saw how the lanterns illuminated the night sky, in a blink of an eye, you look back at Jason.
“Well, there’s the-” you dind’t have time to finish the sentence, Jason lips were on yours and, fuck they felt better than you imagined, they were soft, and full of love.
You kissed him back and you felt his hand making his way to your waist while yours, make their way to his black hair. This moment was just perfect, never in ages you could imagine to kiss Jason Todd and feel so… good, like if it was everything you ever wished before, and well, you didn’t want to stop but you will never kiss him again if you die from lack of oxygen, so you pull away with your eyes still close, you feel Jason’s hands on your cheeks and you open them to see him staring at you with such love and the same spark is there.
“Maybe I believe in magic now” Jason says before pulling you against him once more and kissing you deeply.
Maybe the cheesy cookie was right, maybe you were Jason’s Todd soulmate after all.
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rupertgayesarchive ¡ 7 years
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Noticed your post so... Prompt: Fahc ryan is asexual and he offhandedly tells the crew this but they have a hard time believing him. Why would someone like Ryan not like sex, he must be pulling their leg. Hope you feel less bored!
Ryan, to most people’s surprise, was actually quite good at covert missions. The fact that the infamous Vagabond always wore a mask meant that most people outside of the Crew connected that fearsome visage with regular ol’ Ryan Haywood, giving him extra cover compared to everyone else. And while he didn’t enjoy being inconspicuous, the fact that he didn’t really drink, do drugs, nor seemed to be affected by the flirty women (or men) that came his way made it rather easy for him to sneak around a fancy party, snag some intel, and leave. 
Tonight’s mission was rather interesting, as Gavin and Jack - Ryan’s handlers for the night - pointed out through the comms link. The Crew wasn’t the only one trying to get their hands on some valuable blueprints to a bank vault. Twice now different honeypots had tried to lure Ryan away for some ‘private time’ - no doubt to take him to some abandoned bathroom and knock him out, or worse. It had been difficult to wave off their advances without causing a scene. 
“That girl’s fallin’ out of her dress, what is she doing,” Gavin admonished. 
“How’re you holding up, Ryan?” Jack asked, her voice sounding apprehensive. “I think those two have managed to take out nearly a quarter of the party.”
“Without anyone noticing, too,” Gavin muttered. “Not that it’s hard to see why.”
“Can you just hurry up and get the office door unlocked?” Ryan asked, bored. He had stalked away from the rest of the party and was now upstairs, trying to surreptitiously figure out which door was the one he needed. 
“I don’t think it’s an electronic lock. It needs a key,” Gavin said.
“Or a lockpick,” Jack added. “Wait. Stop.” Ryan paused in front a door. “It’s that one, I think. Can you get it open?”
“’Can I get it open’,” Ryan echoed, digging into his suit jacket and pulling out a small lockpick. He was about to jam it into the lock when the door flung open, a beautiful woman in the entryway. She stared at him, silk robe hanging off her shoulders and clearly not hiding anything. 
“Oh my God,” Jack whispered.
The woman smiled and tugged on Ryan’s hand, pulling him into the room - which was just a bedroom, unfortunately. “Hey there, sweetie,” she purred. “My friends were talking about you - said someone was playing hard to get.” She slammed Ryan against the door, forcing it shut. She locked it, smiling up at him. “Now, let’s get rid of any distractions, and see if you can help me out, hm? I’ll make it real good for you, I promise…” And with that she plucked both the small plug out of Ryan’s ear, and yanked the tiny video recorder from his suit lapel, tossing them onto the ground. With the comms link effectively closed, Gavin and Jack could just sit in open-mouthed silence.
“Do you think -” Jack ventured.
“No. Did you see her? Woof. There’s no way he’s walkin’ out of that. Let’s just hope she doesn’t take the comms stuff back with her, otherwise we’ll have to redo the encryption on all our equipment.” Gavin groaned, rubbing his eyes. “Hopefully he just doesn’t die in action.”
“There’s probably worse ways to go than out from under a pretty girl,” Jack commented. They both decidedly did not call attention to the blush on their faces.
-
Ryan showed up at the penthouse an hour later, looking perfectly put together, aside from some red smudges on the collar of his shirt. He had the codes. “She was keeping the key to the office on her till she knew where to go; her partners were gatekeepers, trying to draw all the guests away from that hallway so she could snoop around at will. When they couldn’t convince me to stay down at the party, she set up a trap for me,” he explained.
“Is that what we’re calling her vagina now?” Geoff said with a laugh. Ryan frowned. “Hey, good work, though.”
“Yeah,” Gavin added. “When we saw her take the comms link out we thought - I mean there was no way you would’ve been able to get to the blueprints before their crew.” 
“Why?”
“It’s pretty hard to finish a mission with your pants down.” Michael said with a smirk. “You must’ve been like 007 in there, charming her and leaving before she knew what hit her.”
Ryan’s frown deepened. “I’m not following. I was totally professional. I mean, for once.”
Gavin grinned. “Uh-huh. Then what’s with the lipstick stains up there?” He pointed to his own shirt collar.
Ryan blinked. “I mean. Stab wounds can be messy. You guys said I couldn’t bring a gun, so.” Geoff, Jack, Michael, Gavin, and Jeremy all laughed at the joke. “I’m serious! I couldn’t just let her take the comms back with her and hack them or something. And if she was the ring-leader, well, that should buy us enough time to get some intel on who those people were.”
Jeremy blanched. “Wait, you mean you actually -” Ryan slid his forefinger from one end of his throat to the other. “What the fuck, Ryan?”
“I’m a murderer! It’s what I do!”
“Was that before or after she sucked you off?” Michael asked. “Or maybe we don’t wanna know.”
“She didn’t - you think I would have been dumb enough to let my guard down around her?” He scowled. “Who do you take me for?”
“A guy with a working set of eyes,” Jack said dryly. 
“They were all very pretty,” Ryan acquiesced. “But the whole ‘lack of sexual attraction’ thing really puts a damper on physical attributes.”
“Lack of… What, like an asexual or something?” Geoff asked.
“Yeah, or something.” Ryan turned to them all, looking more lost than ever. “I’ve told you all I’m asexual, haven’t I?”
“No!” They all yelled.
“Oh. Well. Yeah, I am.” Ryan shrugged. “Honeypots don’t phase me. And neither do you all staring at my like I suddenly grew a second head.” He dug through his pocket, sliding a USB drive over to Geoff. “Look over at that, I’m taking a shower.” And with that he stalked off, five sets of eyes following him.
-
Ryan had always been an anomaly, even amoung the Crew. He was the weirdest mix of criminal mastermind and a bumbling father figure that no one really knew exactly which side of him was the more honest depiction. He also seemed to enjoy confusing people - especially Gavin - with cryptic answers and false explanations. So when he easily explained that he was asexual, no one actually believed him. 
For one - Ryan was, well, good looking. Geoff had, at one point, labeled him a ‘golden god’. And when he wasn’t being incredibly obtuse, he could be rather charming; Gavin always lamented that whatever girl he found attractive was bound to notice Ryan first, and the man seemed to take a sick joy in keeping said women around just to torture him. Even Meg, who he had been dating for ages now and was far from being an innocent civilian herself, was content with hanging out with Ryan way too often.
While the other Crew members occasionally discussed the utter bullshit of Ryan trying to pass himself off as asexual, Gavin eventually decided to broach the topic with Meg herself.
Her response was… not what he was expecting.
“You mean he didn’t tell you till a month ago?” she asked over breakfast. “I’ve known for - forever, I think. Long as I’ve known him, pretty much.”
“Wha - but you don’t actually believe him, right? He’s just having a laugh.”
She took a bite of her toast. “Why would he be having a laugh?”
“I mean - you’ve seen him. No way he’s not interested in - I mean he looks like a regular guy.”
Meg looked up from her plate. “Gavin, what does a bisexual look like?”
“Uh - um.” He squinted. “You?”
“No - a bisexual person can look like anyone. Same thing with someone who’s ace, okay? I mean, you’ve never seen him with a girlfriend or boyfriend -”
“He could just be keeping that all a secret!”
“From you guys? Why?”
“Because he’s Ryan. And anyway, he makes sex jokes, and -”
“Sex jokes and having sex aren’t related. If that were true every sixth grader on the planet would be getting some and - ew. Fuck you for making me think about that.” 
“He tells me he thinks you’re pretty!”
Meg smiled. “Do you want to have sex with me every time you think I look good?”
Gavin frowned. “I mean… No. ‘Guess not. It’s just. Weird.”
Meg rolled her eyes. “Yeah, you can think it’s weird. But that doesn’t mean it’s not true. Just let the poor guy rob banks in peace, okay? That’s all he wants.”
“And to go out to lunch with you,” Gavin grumbled. “And any other girl I’ve looked at for more than five minutes.”
“Maybe he gets along with girls because he never wants sex with them so they decide to stick around longer.” She took a sip of her mimosa. “Just a thought.”
-
Evidently, Meg wasn’t the only one who had slammed some sense into the Crew members. “Guys, I was talking to Meg about Ryan and -”
“Since when aren’t you talking to Meg about Ryan,” Michael asked, sitting on the coffee table in front of the television, playing some FPS game with Jeremy.
“No, I mean - about the asexual thing.”
“Oh.”
“She said I was being a real tosser about it.”
“Funny, Mica told me the same thing,” Jeremy mumbled.
“So did Lindsay,” Michael said, after a pause. “So are we just - we’re wrong, right? Is that what’s happening?”
“Do we have to apologize for being assholes?” Jeremy asked. “I don’t know if I could say sorry to the Vagabond - that’s just too surreal. Maybe we should get him a card, instead.”
“Why am I being apologized to?” Ryan asked nonchalantly, walking over to the three of them. The three lads shared a glance, silently wondering where the fuck he came from.
Eventually, Michael spoke up. “…Because we were being dicks and not believing you about the whole, uh, you being asexual thing,” Michael said. Gavin was looking at his shoes and Jeremy was just looking anywhere but Ryan’s face. “I mean we’re always dicks - especially Gavin - but this was like, too much, you know?”
“Yeah, not cool.” Jeremy supplied, before reaching over and pinching Gavin’s arm.
“Ow! I mean, yeah. Sorry.”
Ryan smiled. “Apology accepted. I’m glad you all came to the realization yourself.”
“Ah - we may have been pushed…” Jeremy supplied. Ryan just shrugged.
“Either way, I just came back from a very informing talk with Geoff and Jack about the same subject, and I’m kind of worn out, so it’s nice that I won’t be forced to give you guys the same treatment.” 
“Yeah, yeah, real funny, Rye-bread,” Michael said. But Ryan just smiled wider, his grin growing sharp and his expression haunting. The look the lads were leveled with dug under their skin even after Ryan turned around and walked away. Michael chuckled nervously. “That - that was a joke, right? Right, Ryan? Ryan! Get back here! Don’t just fucking - Ry-yan!” Michael got up from the coffee table and vaulted over the couch, chasing after the other man.
Gavin rounded around the couch and picked up Michael’s controller, unpausing the game. “Up for a new round?” he asked Jeremy. 
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endlessarchite ¡ 7 years
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Things That Make a Busy Life with a Dog a LOT Easier (+ Giveaway)
It’s Pet Week part 2! If you missed part one, see this post.
For those who have never read this blog before (or haven’t read for long), let me introduce you to the other major character in this DIY adventure: Charlie…
Both she and my decorating habits have changed a lot over the years…
When she’s happy and relaxed, our life at home is pretty quiet:
More often than not, this is a more realistic picture of her:
Over the years, I’ve had to make lots of adjustments to keep her happy and me sane. At times when I worked in an office, it meant turning down jobs that would make me travel so much that she would be boarded all the time. Now that I work from home as a full-time blogger though, you would think it makes everything easy — but while it is nicer for a dog in many ways, there are still obstacles we have to work on together:
I do conference calls with brands while at home. Which is usually right when the UPS guy decides to deliver something and send my dog to DEFCON 3. Not even working in a home office with the door closed makes this ideal.
DIY projects, tools, and related dangers are all around, and she likes to be directly in on the action (and even sometimes underneath my ladder).
She’s a the medium-to-large size, which means my family likens her to a GIANT and don’t always know how to deal with her size compared to their smaller dogs.
Her size also means heavy bags of food to carry around, larger spaces on the couch (someday I hope to get a decent picture of her thinking she can fit when she totally doesn’t), pet beds that can’t be neatly hidden, easy counter and table access, etc.). Luckily, she is well trained enough not to climb on things and understands unattended food does not mean her food, so it’s mostly just her climbing the fence that I worry about.
Lots and lots of dirt and fur tracked into the house (to think, I used to want this to be a no-shoe house… HA!)
Adjusting to having a new puppy in the house meant a lot of changes right away when I first adopted her, but after a few years, I learned about those super awesome pet-related things that I had no clue about for a long time: new products, new websites, and other things that make maintaining a busy life with an active dog even easier. So, as I promised earlier, here’s that list! If I ever find other things, I’ll continue to add to this same post (for easy bookmarking later). And there’s also a giveaway from one of my sponsors, Swiffer, below — so be sure to enter with a comment this week and in the widget at the bottom of this post (if you don’t see it in your reader, click over to the post in your browser here).
*some links contain affiliates*
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My DIY elevated feeder — I already explained how my DIY project from last year fixed Charlie’s habit of tossing over her food bowl, but it’s worth repeating! Since having built it, there has been far less food on the floor (not zero food, but she’s still a dog… still a messy eater, but she usually keeps it in the bowl now instead of turning over the bowl and eating it all directly off the floor).
Before:
After:
Microfiber floor mats — I have two microfiber floor mats, one at the front door and one in front of the patio, that are specially designed for catching mud and fur whenever Charlie enters and exits the house. It’s not fool-proof, but it does make a significant difference for me whenever it’s a rainy/muddy/dirty day outside and I don’t want her tracking the muck into the house. I find that since having used them, I am spending less time and effort trying to wipe each of her paws with wet wipes, and my floor doesn’t suffer. And their gray color ties in enough with my decor that I don’t hate them.
Grooming wet wipes — Of course, now that I’ve got my new block print rug in the living room (and as a fan of lighter colored rugs in general), I still have to wipe their feet. Even though I could use a cheap paper towel, I like the dog wipes for paws. These anti-itch wipes are great for treating Charlie’s allergies (if you’ve ever seen your dog licking or chewing their paws after coming inside, you know what I’m talking about) and I like these grooming wipes as well for when Charlie has a dirty playtime at the park — Georgia red clay is no joke! I buy the bigger containers for savings.
Rinse-free/waterless dog shampoo — Charlie is an anxious dog. And when it comes to regular grooming, it was a LONG process just to even get her to take a bath. She’d freak out to the point where groomers won’t even take her, so I had to re-train her at home. I started with this rinse-free shampoo to keep the time in the tub to a minimum, and it made a huge difference. Over time, I’d use the same shampoo, but incorporate water so she’d get used to it, eventually graduating to deeper cleans. She learned to love the massage and being brushed, and now we can get through it without trauma or me getting soaked to the bone from trying to keep her in the tub. The rinse-free alternative truly did give me some relief (and still does if she needs a quick bath but I don’t have the time or energy for a longer one).
Oatmeal shampoo — if your dog is itching a lot from allergies or fleas (even if you use good flea treatments, they can still get bitten and itch, especially when warm summers like this year mean more summer fleas!). This one is highly rated.
Swiffer — There’s a reason I fully embraced working with this brand as a sponsor of the blog! I use Swiffer all the time. Charlie is a shedder — a massive, unrelenting shedder. Even after first using a good floor vacuum that can pick up her tumbleweeds of hair, I still have to go back through with a Swiffer Wet Jet to take care of all of her paw prints and use their dry cloths to take care of lots of other surfaces. Whenever one of my friends gets a new house or pet, Swiffer products are a very welcome gift (and you can get your own gift by entering the giveaway below!). Oh, and I forgot to mention in the last post: they actually reformulated their wet jet so that it no longer leaves streaks on laminate floors like mine. It used to be my biggest gripe with their products, and their development team took that feedback from lots of folks reporting the same thing and went looking for a better solution (pun-intended).
Food delivery — After discovering the mud mats mentioned above, I went searching for other smart solutions on pet-related websites. I found my answer in the form of automated dog food delivery. I try to give Charlie the best food I can afford, and I order the BIG bags. And since I also subscribe for steady delivery, I get another 5% off. The end result is that it actually beats the price I was paying to drive to a store like Petsmart, but I don’t even need to put on pants or feel guilty that I forgot her food during my last errand for groceries (which sometimes means she gets people food when I run out, but it’s not great for her digestion).
A rolling food bin — I haven’t finished the pantry makeover, but an improvement I made several years ago was a simple investment in a rolling bin that was large enough to fit an entire large bag of dog food. Given that the cheapest price per pound of food is in the large bags, I would buy in bulk, but when I was using a smaller bin, it meant that I could only store a small amount each time in the previous plastic container and had to keep the rest elsewhere (which is a quick way to clutter). I think I only spent $20 on a new bin that also had rolling wheels and a flip-up top, but the mileage and convenience I get out of it is night and day. It just goes to show, once again, that investing in the right products for your house (even if it costs a little bit more than what you were using before) is a smart move because it can save you time, money, and square footage.
“Tough” stuffed dog toys — There’s unfortunately no stopping the gutting of a stuffed toy sometimes. Even when they’re labeled something akin to indestructible, I look at the claim and laugh, because Charlie will eventually find her way inside the stomach of that toy if it contains a squeaker. I’ve learned to just embrace it, but buying “tough” toys instead of the cheap ones still mean she usually hangs onto them a little longer, and that added time is easier on my costs long-term (I pay more upfront, but she hangs onto them long enough for break even or better). Sometimes she’ll have a favorite and keep them intact for months, and others will last just a few weeks, but less cleanup and a happy dog who is quiet during conference calls is a win-win for me!
A decent deshedding brush — While I have used a number of them over the years, there are two deshedding tools that pretty much tie for me as the best: the FURminator and the SleekEZ. The first I picked up in store (it’s a little pricer than most, but it was worth it for me!) and the second was part of a swag bag from a pet conference I went to a few years ago. Charlie loves getting brushed from the FURminator and I personally love the INSANE amount of deshedding the SleekEZ one does… it’s like brushing a horse (I only comb her outside with that one, though… it basically creates a whole new dog’s worth of fur. I just also saw through grabbing these links that there’s a deshedding shampoo, too, so I’m going to try that out next!
Honestly, that’s all I can think of for now, but I’ll add more as I think of it! It’s also a great question in terms of a special giveaway:
Giveaway question: What products or services have you been grateful to discover in caring for your pet?
Leave a comment on this blog post for a sweet goodie box from Swiffer! Be sure to also update the Rafflecopter widget too. I actually just asked them as I was writing this post if they would throw in something for you guys (another reason why I like working with them — they really have an awesome and super flexible team), so I don’t have details on precisely what you’ll wind up with, but the box is generally this size (photo is of my sister modeling one of her housewarming gifts):
Full giveaway details:
Prize: a sweet goodie box from Swiffer to help you & your pet keep things fresh & clean (any package I’ve gotten from them includes ample refills to last a while)
Number of winners: one
Geographical restrictions: U.S. only (that’s usually how it goes, but if that’s not the case I’ll open it up further!)
Ends: Friday, June 23 at 11:59PM
To enter: leave a comment on this blog post answering my giveaway question & update the embedded widget (if you have trouble with the widget, please let me know, and if you don’t see it, make sure you’re clicked over to my site directly!)
Ready? Go! And thanks in advance for your tips and recommendations on other items… I hope Charlie and I discover something in the process!
a Rafflecopter giveaway
Disclaimer: This post and giveaway are sponsored by Swiffer, but as always, all text and opinions, embarrassing stories, and bad jokes are 100% my own.
The post Things That Make a Busy Life with a Dog a LOT Easier (+ Giveaway) appeared first on The Ugly Duckling House.
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Things That Make a Busy Life with a Dog a LOT Easier (+ Giveaway) published first on http://ift.tt/2qxZz2j
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