#i care about fashion mkay

[doesnotloveyou]

frothing and shrieking at how cool this jacket looks 👌

BUCKY BARNES + BLACK SUIT ➤ tfatws | 1x03: “power broker”

[tired-biscuit]

okay i'm sorry if this has been asked before but-

kiba and somno??? i can't get it out of my head 😭

anyways hope you have a good day ☺️

18+ fem!reader // cw: somnophilia (it's consensual!!), established relationship.

i think he wouldn't have a kink for it necessarily, but it definitely would happen whenever he'd come back home from long missions.

with his face nearly buried in your hair as he spoons you in your shared bed, your scent would unknowingly spur him on in his sleep, altering his dreams into something more lascivious. so with you finally by his side after weeks, sometimes months, of nothing, he wakes up on those first couple of nights with his skin feeling unbearably heated and with a certain strain in his boxers, and thus sneaks his way into your underwear despite the fact that he's still half-asleep himself.

it's done clumsily, with the upper half of his body draping over yours until his prominent hard-on is pressing right against your ass and his calm breathing is tickling the side of your neck. pressing two fingerpads against your most sensitive spot before cupping your pussy, he likes how warm and soft you are between your legs as you sleep; so much so that he even brings his fingers up to his nose just to inhale the sweetness better. the scent to fill his lungs as he inhales only encourages him to keep going.

so he does. he indulges.

feeling tired and heavy, he's uncharacteristically sluggish as he paws at you in the dark, undressing you piece by piece instead of in his usual quick-paced fashion. by the time he slides your panties down to your ankles and pulls you closer to fuck your thighs, you're already sleepily moaning, reaching over your shoulder to kiss him because you, yourself don't even know what's real and what's a dream anymore.

he shushes you, softly kissing you on your panting mouth as he keeps drawing his hips back and forth lazily. you're rocking against each other on pure instinct, his pre-cum mixing with your slick, sticky strings of it keeping the friction easy and wet. the sounds of your movements are loud enough to make him blush if only he were present enough to actually care about it. you're way more drenched when you're still only half-awake because you're also way more sensitive to his touches and can't overthink it. it's nice.

"shh, it's mkay," he drawls into your temple as he reaches down to roll laggard circles into your clit. you visibly shudder against him when the tip of his cock catches at your soaked hole and push your ass out further in response; inviting him in. "i'll be quick, yeah?"

your only response is to help him push in by gripping the base of his cock and guiding him right inside. the moment he sinks into you fully, stretching you out, you both just relish the warm sensation it brings. his coarse grunt mixes with your whimper before they both become muffled as he caresses one side of your face and kisses you again.

his tongue fills your mouth insantly as he starts to lazily pound into you, it's sweet how openly he shows you exactly how much he loves and desires you. you can't see him in the dark, but just from feeling how closely he insists on keeping you next to him - your spine is practically glued to his chest and your limbs have long since become an entangled mess, after all - tells you that his expression is nothing but lovestruck.

"love you, sweetheart," he mumbles at some point, his voice so appealingly raspy and deep because he needs more sleep; needs plenty of it in order to become himself again. he's way more genuine in the middle of the night like this, way smoother around the edges even as he side fucks you, but he's also just so tired. the aftermath of long missions makes him feel like he's a bear stuck in the midst of winter.

and yet, despite all that exhaustion, he still stands up and follows you to the bathroom to keep you company as you clean up. he leans back, with the small of his back pressing against the washing machine; squinting up at the bathroom light and snickering quietly as you sit on the toilet and fuss about having to literally pee his load out because of how deep he's pushed it into you.

it's simple and safe and trusting. it's three in the morning and the entire village is still asleep; it feels like it's just you and him and your dog that are left in this god-forsaken world. it's domestic bliss - the crude kind.

you wouldn't have it any other way.

[puppiesandnightlock]

LINK: Goodbye Was Not Our End (pt. 3)

Something about their meeting had been bugging him. It wasn’t the meeting itself, although the awkward air had left something to be desired. It was Damian himself, it was like Jon was now seeing him differently. It could have just been because of the time passed, something past physical appearance, but whatever it was kept a hold onto him for the rest of the day.

He picked Laurel up from the daycare center and let her watch a movie in the meantime, while he attempted to sort himself out.

There was something there and he would not be able to sort it out by himself. He went into his room after double checking Laurel’s activity, and dialed Kathy.

“How did it go?” The words were said the moment she picked up.

“ I also accept hello, how are you, and good evening.” He said, a teasing note in his voice.

“That’s bull, I helped your disastrous fashion choices and you promised me the details on your estranged famous pop star bestie.”  

“It went…okay. I can’t tell if it was more for closure than anything, but we’re going to meet up again.” Jon sighed, putting the phone on speaker and laying on his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. 

”Well, that’s good, right?” A rustle of papers and a pencil scratching something out on them accompanied her words. ”Even if y’all can’t get back to where ya once were, it can still be turned back into a relationship that means something again.” 

Jon exhaled, fidgeting with his hands. “There was something off about it, almost like I noticed too much and too little at the same time. It felt so good to be back together, you know?”

“Reunion euphoria.” Kathy summarized. *”What was the biggest thing you noticed about him?”

“Well, it faded, I guess, and became awkward.” Jon scratched his scalp gently. “Um, I guess it would have to be his overall physical look.”

”Hmm. Describe it to me?” Kathy sounded almost… amused? No, that couldn’t be right.

“He was taller, but still way shorter than me. Nothing’s changed there.” He chuckled fondly. “All of his features were shared now, an adult’s face. My parents would say that he looks just like his mom.”

“Wasn’t his mom, like, the most beautiful in the world, according to both your parents?” 

Jon sputtered, tips of his ears going red. “W-well, i mean-”

“And didn’t you have a crush on him early on before…I hate to disrespect the dead, but that bitch?” 

“I don’t see what that has to do with anything.” he glowered at the phone from his vantage point on the bed.

”Jon, I think what’s going on here is that you realized he had a glow-up.” Kathy’s voice definitely had a tinge of amusement and it caused the other boy to scowl.

“S’not like he needed one to begin with.” The mutter was still picked up from the other end and caused the girl to laugh, the sound coming a bit staticy.

”There’s your proof, bestie. Look, it doesn’t mean something has to come from it. Objectively speaking, you’re not half bad yourself, and I'm not trying to date you.” 

Jon groaned, shoving a pillow on his face. “I don’t like adulting, Kath, take me back to, like, elementary.”

She snorted. ”It’s not that bad. Look, focus on rebuilding your friendship, getting somewhere is the first step. If you need me to pick up Laurel one of these days, you know I'm always happy to be Aunt Kathy with the angel.” 

“Mkay.” He took the pillow from his face and stared at the ceiling. “I’ll let you know. Thanks, Kathy.”

“Of course. Who else would help you sort out your disastrous life?” She laughed on the other end. “Take care of yourself, talk later.”

The call ended and Jon was left with more confusion than before.

Jon_Kent

Hey  

ROBIN_Official

Hi 

Jon_Kent

It was rlly good to c u again 

Ik u said we could meet up again 

And i thought it might be easier to have my number? 

Its xxx-xxx-xxxx 

ROBIN_Official is typing… 

Unknown number 

Its damian hi 

Im free next wednesday 

Awesome same plac as last time 

Yeah, sounds good. Same time? 

Sure sounds good. Cya then ^^ 

See you then! 

Gradually, the visits became regular weekly events, the old, crumbled bond being the foundation for a new tentative relationship to be built on top, not quite what it once was, but something healing under the bandaid. Every meeting and visit, the long missed conversations lasting well into the nights was a new stitch in the gash.

Damian became D, then Damian again, before Dames, and Dame and over the few months, it became Dami again, affectionate and sweet.

The stiffness faded, and they fell into an easy new rhythm none were willing to break. The subject of their past was a dark, locked chest in the top shelf, gathering dust. Opening it would be Pandora’s box, but it was entirely necessary. 

Both were unwilling to bring the subject up again, not wanting to let the past break them again. It was costing the both of them, Damian from guilt, and Jon feeling like he was hiding a vital part of his life.

About three months had passed from their first meeting in October, and they were now in the middle of January. Laurel would be two soon, and Damian had no idea she existed. Jon kept meaning to mention her, but what do you tell your old best friend about something like this?

Oh yeah, so I didn’t tell you in the few months we’ve been meeting that I have a child! Her mom is the same person who destroyed our friendship!  

No. Absolutely not .

This was such an important part of him that he wanted to share, something that he was so proud of. Overwhelming everything else, however, was that same old feeling of fear and worry. They’d worked so hard to get where they were now, despite not having it in them to talk about the roadblocks.

It would be fine, right?

Damian stood out in front of the cafe, scanning the crowds for Jon. The lunch rush hit their quaint little meet-up spot like no other, and with how regularly they came, the wait staff was not above holding tables for them.

Their normal server, a perky high school kid with a green and pink ponytail grinned at him, two menus in her hands.

“Afternoon, Mr. Wayne! You and Mr. Kent want your normal table?”

Damian nodded, lighting up as he saw Jon’s head of curls bobbing in the sea of people. He waved his hand and Jon appeared, grinning at both of them.

“Hey, Dames! Dalia.” They followed the waitress as she led them to a table outside, known by most of the staff as their table.

“I’ll bring you two your usual drinks?” She waited for confirmation, scribbling it down on a notepad as they gave it and rushing away.

“Oh my god, Dames,” Jon blurted out as Dalia left. “You will never believe what I heard walking into the Planet this week,”

Damian grinned, leaning forward as if they were two schoolgirls in the courtyard, letting Jon blabber on about the latest gossip.

“And then after she said that, Jen got so mad, I told Kath and she says that they’ve definitely got something going on there-”

Two glasses were placed on the table in front of them, Jon pausing in the retelling to look up at the person standing there.

Another high school kid with dark red curls and brown skin, a direct contrast to their usual server, and held a notepad in one hand.

“Dalia got held up with another table, but I can go ahead and take your order.” 

“Thank you Hayden!” Jon chirped with a quick glance at the name tag, before ratting off their usual order, looking at Damian for confirmation.

He nodded quickly and Hayden scribbled it down before dashing off to a different table.

“Alright, that’s my fill of workplace gossip, you got anything for the table?” He sipped his sweet tea and waited. 

“Well, Skylar’s 3rd graders absolutely destroyed all the paints and Akira has this weird guy who shows up like every other day, hates books and tries to hit on them but gets a latte so they can't tell him anything. Dick’s been taking his gymnastics classes much too seriously and Jason sends videos of him hanging off things that he shouldn’t be with Father begging him to get off.”

Jon snorted. “Little brothers.”

“Indeed.” Damian sighed. “My older child complex is going insane, I’ve gotten the urge to drive all the way back down there to full name the both of them.”

He laughed, remembering what a mother hen Damian had been as a teen. The other man watched fondly, drinking in the sight of his joy and the song of it ringing in his ears.

Their food was dropped off by Dalia, and they continued their conversation. They had definitely gone over their normal time, and neither seemed to notice, until Jon’s phone began to ring. He ignored it, but it persisted, and looking sheepish, he answered. 

“Hello?” 

The grin dropped and a horrified expression came over his face. Damian reached over, mouthing a question. 

”Are you okay?” 

Jon shook his head near violently, standing up and shoving his phone in his pocket. “I’m so sorry, Dames, but i gotta go-”

“No, no, that’s fine, but what's going on? Are you okay?” Damian tugged on his sleeve, concerned.

“Iforgottopickupmydaughter.” He wrenched his arm from his grasp and jogged off, leaving Damian slack jawed in the back of the little cafe.

“He has a daughter ?” 

Jon bolted into the daycare, having broken several traffic laws to get there in under ten minutes. There were still some kids and parents there, Laurel sitting alone in a chair too big for her, legs swinging.

“Hey, hey Princess, I’m so sorry-” He bent to her level, cupping her face. She was surprisingly calm about it, unlike what he would have been as a child.

“It’s okay.” She said finally. “Grown-ups come back.” 

Jon was on the verge of tears, laughing weakly. “That’s right, Laurel, I’ll always come back. Let’s go home, sweetheart.”

A few minutes later, as they were driving to the apartment, his daughter’s voice spoke up, smaller than he’d ever heard it.

“Why didn’t Mama come back?”

The car nearly swerved, and Jon breathed in, steadying himself. The rest of the way was silent until he parked, and turned back.

“Mama…isn’t here anymore. She can’t come back.”

“Is she…in the stars now?”

she didn’t deserve the stars. Jon chose his next words carefully, taking a minute of silence. 

“Not exactly. She’s just…gone. She didn’t go to the stars, but she can’t come back either.”

He unlocked the car, getting out to open Laurel’s door and bring her down from her carseat that she insisted on unbuckling herself.

“Okay.” She said finally. “That’s okay.”

Something in his heart twisted painfully, and he swung her up into his arms. “How about we have some dinner now, okay?”

Admittedly, he’d forgotten all about why he’d been late to begin with. He’d just started a movie with Laurel half asleep on his side when his phone lit up, heart dropping to his stomach in dread.

Dami 💚

Would you care to explain  

why you didn’t tell me you had a daughter? 

I’m not mad  

Really 

Sorry 

I didn’t want to scare you off  

That was wrong of me  

I want to explain. 

Everything.  

Are you free this weekend? 

I can make time 

Same place? 

Yes, see you then 

“So.” Damian brought the cup to his lips. It was earlier then they would normally meet, and the chilly air had prompted them both to order warm drinks.

“So.” Jon nibbled on his bottom lip.“I owe you like, the world’s biggest explanation.” 

The other man laughed, Jon shutting his eyes and letting the familiar sound ring in his ears. He kept his hands around the cup, feeling the warmth seep through the ceramic. 

“That you do. You don’t have to tell me anything you’re uncomfortable with, but I'd like to have a general gist of what happened.”

Jon breathed in and opened his eyes, and began to talk.

“We didn’t break up when I moved to Metropolis, which I'm sure you know. After the summer, in my first year of college, she came back, and we picked up where we had left off. I knew I should have broken it off, because even though we hit our…roadblock, I could still hear your voice. You were always right to me back then, even when you were wrong.”

His laugh was awful, a small chuckle filled with bitterness.

“That was one thing I always hoped to be wrong about.” Damian whispered, long eyelashes brushing his bronze skin. Jon took a small sip from his cup and continued.

“Two years and we were twenty. It should have been enough, but something kept me there, and she always insisted that she loved me. I was so close to breaking it off, I had finally had enough. But that’s when she told me she was pregnant.  I couldn’t just leave her like that, my parents would have killed me. We eloped, cut a cake, and stayed here. We were so young, D. Too young.

“Then the baby was born. She had just turned twenty-one, and after a bit, didn’t want a baby. I didn’t understand, she’d carried the child, our child, decided to keep it, and after the novelty wore off, she was ready to give up. I was alternating between full parenting and classes because she didn’t want to parent.”

Damian was catching on slightly, still curious about the past tense. How, how had the boy he’d once known, full of sunshine and sharp edges, soft but capable, had gone through hardships like this.

“It was a Friday and I was so done. She left the baby and went out and trust me, I was absolutely pissed. There was a knock on the door, and I must have looked like the dead, answering the door with a Met U hoodie, a baby in one arm and a bottle in the other. I saw the officer and I knew. There was no way that it could have been anything else.”

He was silent, swallowing the lump in his throat. “It wasn’t love, not anymore. I wonder if it had ever been, really. But still, I held out hope. Some kind of hope that maybe we could save it, have some kind of family. She died on impact, which made me feel somewhat better. I was torn up over it for a while, but I had my parents, and Kathy. They helped with the baby a lot.”

“Car crash?” Damian whispered. He was all too familiar with those.

Jon’s face scrunched up in what seemed to be-

No, no. couldn’t be.

Slight amusement? 

“In a way.” He said slowly. Damian waited for him to go on, filled with confusion. “It was a bus.”

“The bus crashed?”

“No…no she was hit with it.”

“She was hit…with a bus ?” Damian squawked. 

“I mean, there were a bunch of other people but she was front and center. It was speeding and there was something wrong with the driver.” Jon hid his face with his cup, watching Damian gawk at him. After a few minutes, right as Damian took a sip from his own, he remarked with a raised brow,

“Ironic, isn’t it?”

Tea was spit everywhere and Jon cackled, Damian’s coughs turning into shaky laughter.

“Jonathan Samuel Kent, what would your mother say?” he sputtered.

“Oh, she agrees. She never thought she was good for me.” Jon handed him, still chuckling as Damian sopped up the mess. “Took me awhile to see it in that light, but I recognize she was hurting me in more ways than one, and though no one ever deserves death, I’m not torn up about it anymore.”

Damian smiled softly at him, hand reaching across the table to touch his. “I’m so sorry that we weren’t there for each other when these things happened. I’m here now, and so are you, and we’re friends now, I think. We’re going to build what we had back up, and I have a feeling it will be better than before. No more secrets?”

Jon moved to grip his hand like they used to when they were children

“No more secrets.”

The shorter man leaned back, lips turning up in fondness. “Now that that’s out of the way, tell me about your daughter!”

Jon brightened, immediately letting go to whip out his phone. “Oh, gosh, Dami, I've got so many pictures! Her name is Laurel, she’s almost two, and she has the fluffiest curls-”

He rambled on and on, Damian soaking it in and cooing over the pictures. Laurel, it seemed, took much more after her father, with her long dark curls and bright blue eyes, small smattering of freckles over her nose. The only trace of the child’s mother was the slightly tanned skin, a lovely mix of features creating an absolutely adorable child.

“When can I meet her?” He blurted out in the middle of one of Jon’s stories. If possible, the beam grew brighter, and Jon nearly bounced in his seat.

“Literally whenever. I can bring her here, or you could come to the apartment, or i could bring her when you meet Kathy-” 

“The apartment sounds good.” He said quietly, stopping the ongoing chatter. “Her ground, and besides, I'd like to see it.”

They both stood, the taller one bumping his shoulder with the smaller one’s. “I’ll text you the details?” 

“Sounds good.” They watched each other, before settling into a warm hug, speaking of sorrow and a small hope for renewal.

They broke apart and went their separate ways, content and peace drifting over them. They were starting again. They were starting again, and this time, they’d both make sure it would be the last time.

[mimeen]

bonten reaction to s/o who loves stealing their clothes

𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐫𝐨

he was wondering why his clothes went missing one by one. then he saw you wearing his favourite t-shirt. “y/n is that mine?” “no it is mine now”. he actually okay with you wearing his clothes but please spare him some or he will showing his abs around :^

𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐳𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐲𝐨

loves the idea of you stealing and wearing his clothes cause you look good in it. sometimes he’ll wear yours. styling you with his suits. his clothes smells so nice and expensive. he loves to secretly take a picture of you in his clothes. but make sure you wash it properly cause he don’t like stinky stuff :p

𝐫𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐢

his reaction when he saw you in his clothes was like :0 “hi babe you’re under arrest for stealing my clothes but it’s okay you can keep it cause you look stunning like always” yup he will say that to you. ask you if it’s okay that he want to wear your clothes. love to spend time with you by folding the clothes together while rindou watching you guys like 'why am i here'

𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐢

act like he don’t care about it but he can shut up about it. “you should try wear this one”. can’t stop hugging you from behind while saying “cute” . clinging at you everytime he saw you wearing his clothes. literally being a simp for you. ask you to help him with the laundry :^

𝐤𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐨

think you look cute in it. he also buy a new clothes like a matching one for both of you. his clothes smells like expensive cologne. never complain if you wear all of his clothes. you also helps him with laundry things. his wallpaper is a picture of you wearing his clothes as pyjamas while you were sleeping:>

𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐨𝐦𝐢

he will be like “you look so good in it” ah yes another clothes that smells like cigarettes and expensive cologne. i feel like he good at styling so he loves to style you using his clothes. lots of black and beige colours clothes. both of you do a fashion show after bought some new clothes :>

𝐤𝐨𝐤𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐣𝐢𝐦𝐞

his shirt cost like a kidney price. mhm smells expensive cologne. black,white and kinda dark red is his favourite colour. loves to see you wearing his clothes. bought 'some' new clothes for him and you. he’s the type that hang his clothes instead of fold it. “you look so cute but just wear those around me mkay?” :o

[neon-vocalist]

Lanie and Vin have been freaking out over this all week. All month, practically. Even before we got the tickets, when we heard Motionless was coming to our state again, all three of the emo boys in our brain flipped their collective shit.

Well. Sort of. Chris doesn’t actually care that much. But Lanie and Vin, absolutely. The concert is literally at 7pm, so there is NO REASON for them to be panicking already, but here we are, at 10 in the morning, losing our mind while we search Pinterest for acceptable makeup looks.

Our first Motionless concert was before we had the introjects. Our second, we were far in the back, barely close enough to tell who was who. But now? Now we’ve got a VIP pass. Now we’re meeting them in person.

“I’M GOING TO SEE MYSELF!” Lanie shouts. “I’M GOING TO SHAKE MY OWN HAND!”

“Caress your own leg,” I say, mostly to make myself laugh but also to try and confuse Lanie enough that she shuts up. Unfortunately, Vin is not far behind her on the scale of Chill to Losing It Completely.

“We need to make our makeup really good,” she murmurs, taking a frantic mental inventory of our makeup drawer. “We need to look awesome so they think we’re cool.”

“They’re not gonna think we’re cool,” Lanie says from somewhere behind. “We are a child. And Sunnie’s fashion sense is swagless.”

“HEY! My fashion sense is NOT swagless!”

Vin waves a hand in the air to cut my complaint short. “Whatever whatever. Next thing. Clothes. Should we wear our Scoring shirt? Is that overkill? Should we wear our Funeral Derangements shirt so it shows we’re real fans of the genre but it isn’t cringe?”

“Bro,” Lanie scoffs. “You can’t go to a concert wearing a different band’s merch. That’s treason. I’d be so pissed if we were playing and some kid showed up wearing something they bought that put money in Spencer Charnas’ pockets and not mine.”

“I wouldn’t,” Vin says meekly. “I would be happy Spencer’s selling stuff.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Lanie says with an eye roll. “We know. You love Spencer. Your favorite grandson or whatever. You’re too nice, Vin.”

“I am not!” she protests. “But okay. Not gonna wear the Ice Nine shirt. That’s fine. I think if I met a kid at a concert, I would think they were super cool if, like… they had a ton of piercings. Or stick’n’pokes.”

“We can’t get a ton of piercings in nine hours. Or tattoos. Try again.”

“Really cool makeup?” Vin tries.

“Agh!” Lanie starts pacing around headspace. “Okay. I would think a kid was cool if they came to meet me with awesome jewellery. And if they knew all the words to our songs.”

“We can’t prove to them we know all the words to their songs, Lanie,” Vin says, pacing around in the other direction. “We have like five minutes tops.”

“So compliment a lyric or something. Talk about how we’re learning BNN on the guitar.”

“We aren’t, though,” I have to correct her. “We gave up on that shit months ago.”

“Okay but they don’t have to know that!” Lanie nearly screams.

“Are you suggesting we LIE to ourselves?” Vin asks, aghast, matching Lanie’s volume. “We can’t do that! No way!”

“Okay, okay.” I try to cut through the building chaos. “Vin, why don’t you focus on finding us good makeup inspo on Pinterest for now? Lanie, out. You two in the same room is like trying to make a toaster play nice with a bathtub. You can try to come up with a good opener later.”

“Mkay.” Lanie shuffles out of the room, Vin sits down to focus, and I breathe a sigh of relief. Finally. It’s under five decibels in here. Now I can actually get shit done.

—

Lanie and Vin are holding each other’s hands, something I haven’t seen them do since… well, ever. I can’t exactly blame them. They’re about to literally meet themselves, and I’m about as nervous as they are, but for reasons more “OMG my favourite musicians!” and less “that is literally me in there.” Still, though, someone in here has gotta be sane, so I shove down my anxiety and watch the space between us and the door grow smaller and smaller.

“Right this way,” some usher says, scanning our ticket, and then we’re in. Someone instantly shoves me away from front, leaving me on the floor and helpless to do anything but watch. Oh God Vin please don’t do something stupid—

“No way! You’re not dead! And I kinda have a little beard now!” Vin gasps, delighted, overwhelmed by the five people lined up in front of him. “Oh my God, I forgot you weren’t a girl!”

Well. We’re definitely going to be memorable.

(i hope it's okay to send a submission based on something we were wondering about with our system..?)

Write about a system going to a rock concert.

[Bonus: Factive A's source is one of the band members. How do they (and the rest of the system) react to seeing their source in person?]

Submitted Prompt #68!

[plunnies-n-shit]

715

Think about Ichigo.

R u thinking about him?

Good.

Think about Ichigo who never became the weapon in the war against Aizen, but Aizen still dies at the hands of the Espada, and now the sky is torn open in great, terrible gargantas to reveal endless night and sand behind and huge, terrible white shapes slipping through

Its the end of the fucking world and the shinigami tried, they did. The Quincy tried, they did. But the Hollows have a hogyoku, and their wishes are hungry.

So now think about Ichigo roaming at the end of the world. He might as well be the last human alive because he hasnt seen another person for... Longer than he cares to remember. Its just him, his sword on his back and the sand under his feet and the ruins of a world slowly being buried and the hollows that roam between the dunes that he avoids when he can and fights when he has no other choice.

Hes heading towards that tower of white stone sinking from the sky into his world, because its the end of his world but he wants to at least go down fighting.

And hes passing what hes pretty sure used to be an old-fashioned shoten, once upon a time, when he hears something creak and groan and growl beneath the collapsed wood. 

Its a huge, panther-shaped Hollow, trapped beneath the wreckage of the building. Ichigo should move on. Ichigo should put it out of its misery.

Think about Ichigo, staring that huge hollow in the eye.

Think about Ichigo, leaning his sword against the one remaining vertical support before setting to work slowly, painstakingly shifting the rubble off the Hollow's back.

("Why," the Hollow, Grimmjow asks, later, when he has followed a wordless Ichigo for days towards that tower sinking from the sky that seems to never grow closer.) 

("You wasted a lot of time,” he says.)

(”I could have killed you the moment I got free," he says)

(ya know. Like a liar.)

(And Ichigo stares at Grimmjow for a long moment, all burning amber eyes and steel resolve, and he says, "Because I had nothing better to do.")

(Ya know. Like a liar.)

And now I want you to think about Ichigo at the end of the world, sword on his back and sand under his feet and Grimmjow at his side.

Mkay ty for thinking i know it was very difficult

[libraryofloveletters]

Amnesia

Spencer Reid x Reader 

Warnings: Fem!reader, cheesy love letters, crying, break ups, mentions of blood and injuries 

Category: Angst 

Word Count: 3.3k

Author’s Note: mkay, I didn't use the whole song. It flips back and forth between the reader and Spencer’s pov, flashbacks of their relationship are in italics!

Song: Amnesia 

----

I drove by all the places we used to hang out getting wasted

I thought about our last kiss, how it felt the way you tasted

Aaron placed a paper on your desk. You glanced up at him as he gave your shoulder a small squeeze. Spencer’s eyes were on you and you could feel it. You weren't ready to tell them that you were transferring. 

Working with Spencer after the breakup was hard. 

You did what you believed was best for the team. You stood up and walked out to take a phone call, leaving everything where it was, figuring that you’ll pack up after everyone leaves. 

Spencer watches Penelope walk to your desk, her eyes scanning the paper on your desk. “It’s.. oh my god” she says, Derek looks over at her “what is it mama?” 

“Transfer papers. Y/n’s leaving the BAU”

Everyone’s eyes were on you as you walked back into the bullpen, everyone but Spencer. Penelope sat at your desk, the paper in her hand. “You’re really leaving ?” she had a small pout on her face, you nodded. “Oh baby” she pulled you into a hug, soon enough everyone came over.  

Everyone knew why you were transferring, it didn't need to be said. Spencer was on the team first, it was only fair that if one of you were going to leave then it would be you. 

“Come and visit all the time” JJ said as she and Emily hugged you, Emily nodding in agreement. 

“I’m gonna miss you mama” Derek gave you a good solid squeeze, “gonna miss you too, D” 

In typical Rossi fashion, you were greeted by two kisses on the cheek. “Don’t be a stranger kid” you smiled at him. 

Penelope hugged you once more, “promise you’ll come and see me all the time. Oh! and we’ll still have our weekly lunch and gossip” you laughed, “of course Penny, I wouldn't miss it for the world” 

Even Aaron seemed sad by your departure, “take care of yourself y/n” “you too Aaron” he gave you a small hug. 

Finally, Spencer stood up and made his way over. He gave you a quick and semi awkward hug before wishing you good luck. 

JJ, Penelope and Emily helped you pack up your desk and made you promise once more that you’ll come visit them. You glanced over at Spencer on your way to the elevator, his head was down in his book, his finger trailed across the page as he read. Once again, JJ, Emily and Penelope pulled you into a group hug before letting you get in the elevator. You smiled at them as the doors shut. 

The thought of your hug with Spencer replayed in your head. 

And even though your friends tell me you're doing fine

Are you somewhere feeling lonely even though he's right beside you?

When he says those words that hurt you, do you read the ones I wrote you?

7 months have passed since you last set foot in the BAU. You had been keeping up with the team outside of work. You had seen the girls for drinks one night, popped into Rossi’s for dinner, went over to help Derek with his latest house project and visited Aaron at one of Jack’s games. Only person you hadn’t seen was Spencer. 

At one of your girl’s nights, you met a guy named Jacob. The two of you hit it off and exchanged phone numbers, which led to a date which ended in you and Jacob starting a relationship. 

You had kept the girls in the loop about your budding romance with Jacob, but only the good parts. They didn't know about the fights and the sleepless nights. 

You were currently have one of those sleepless nights. Tumbling through your boxes of stuff from your apartment with Spencer, you came across a stack of letters. 

You opened one of them and began reading,

“To my darling y/n, 

This week has been tough. I wasn’t sure how to help you physically but I decided to help you the way I know how too, through words. Just a little reminder to make you feel better, hopefully. It was 2 years ago tonight that I asked you to be mine and you told me you loved me. You changed my life that evening, leading us on a journey that would bring us so much joy. 

Every time I look at you, my love for you grows deeper, a degree of love I didn't know I possessed. Whenever something good happens, you’re the first person I want to tell and when something bad happens, I know I can count on you to take me in your arms and tell me that everything will be okay. I can only hope that I'm that person for you because I want to be, because I'm here for you and I always will be. 

I’m the luckiest man in the world because I can say with all of my heart, that I'm in love with my best friend. I know that I can't give you the world, but I promise to hold on to you forever, there is nothing that would give me greater joy than seeing you happy. 

Your love is everything to me.

There’s not another in the world that can hold a candle to you, my love, as you are my one and only. I love you more than even the most heartfelt words can express. 

Yours always, 

Spencer. R” 

The tears rolled off your face and onto the paper. Spencer had always had a way of telling you exactly what you needed to hear, even if you weren't with him. 

Sometimes I start to wonder, was it just a lie?

If what we had was real, how could you be fine?

'Cause I'm not fine at all

Y/n and her boyfriend sat at Rossi’s dinner table with the rest of the team. He had invited her to the team dinner because they all missed her, even Spencer, although he would never admit that. 

Spencer knew she was coming, he just didn’t expect her to bring her new boyfriend. It felt wrong for her to do that because he would never bring another girl to a team dinner. 

There would never be another girl for him. 

They sat there laughing along with everyone as Derek told his story. His hand was on her shoulder and her smile was still as beautiful as it had always been. Spencer couldn’t keep his eyes off of her, she had captured his attention once again. 

“Pretty boy” Derek called out to him, breaking Spencer’s gaze away from her. 

“What is it ?” 

“Did you hear what I said ?” 

“Fran took your sister to the doctors only to find out that it was a hickey and not a burn mark. I heard you Derek” 

Y/n’s eyes were on Spencer as he spoke. Spencer glanced over at her, their eyes meeting. It felt like forever before either of them looked away. She gave him a small smile before shifting slightly which caused her boyfriend’s hand to fall off her shoulder. 

A glimmer of hope flashed through Spencer’s body. Her boyfriend’s hand falling off your shoulder, maybe it was intentional, maybe she was trying to tell him that she wanted Spencer and not him. 

Or maybe it was all in his head, he was reading too much into it. 

I remember the day you told me you were leaving

I remember the make-up running down your face

And the dreams you left behind you didn't need them

Like every single wish we ever made

I wish that I could wake up with amnesia

And forget about the stupid little things

Like the way it felt to fall asleep next to you

And the memories I never can escape

The two of you stood in your bedroom screaming at each other. 

“How am I supposed to know what you’re thinking Spencer ? I can't read your friggin’ mind!” 

“Maybe if you paid attention to someone other than yourself, you’d know how I felt!” 

You scoffed and shook your head, you could not believe him right now. “What? you know it’s true y/n” he uttered, taking a seat on the bed

“I can’t believe you. Out of all the people in the world, you call me self centred ?” 

“I didn’t say tha-” 

“No, but you did. If only I paid attention to someone other than myself right ?”  

He rolled his eyes, he was acting like a child and he knew that. The last few weeks you’ve been wrapped up in work and honestly, yes, you had been a little distant but you were going to tell him why tonight. Since he wanted to act like a child and argue with you, why not give him what he wants? Since you never pay attention right? 

“I try my best to be there for you Spencer, I always do and you know that. You told me I coddle you too much, so I gave you your space. When you were worried about your mom, I sat up with you all night and helped you come up with ways to help her. When you were in the hospital, I sat by your bed day and night. Whenever you needed me, I was there for you. I dropped everything for you. So don’t you even dare to pull that I only focus on myself shit with me.” 

He was quiet, you stood in front of him. His arms reached out for you but you stepped away. 

“I don’t think you love me anymore y/n” Spencer whispered. 

“What?” you were in shock. 

“We haven't been okay for the last few weeks. This isn’t working, we barely talk and we see each other everyday, all day.” 

“Spence, I know I've been busy with work but I-” he cut you off 

“y/n, please. don’t.” He looked up at you with a sadness in his eyes. The tears threatened to fall but you held your ground. You couldn't let him see you fall apart, you wouldn't. 

“That’s it then ?” you looked at him, your face expressionless. “3 years for nothing?” 

“I’m sorry” 

“You’re not.” You picked up your go bag from the corner of the closet. “I’ll be back for my stuff another day” 

The pictures that you sent me they're still living in my phone

I'll admit I like to see them, I'll admit I feel alone

And all my friends keep asking why I'm not around

It hurts to know you're happy, yeah, it hurts that you've moved on

Spencer was moving out today. He couldn’t stay in a house full of memories.

Memories of her.

Derek had come over to help him pack up the last of his stuff. Spencer emptied his clothing into a suitcase, just throwing everything from the drawers into the suitcase. 

A picture had fallen onto the pile of clothes, it laid face down. It must have been buried between the clothes. Spencer picked it up, flipping it over. A smile creeped onto his face, it was one of those 4 frame pictures from a photo booth. You had managed to convince him to take one with you on your first official date as a couple. 

He sat on the bed, his finger brushing over the picture. The memories of that day coming back to him like it was yesterday. 

“Spence pleaseee” you begged him. 

“Y/n, do you know how many germs those photo booths have?” He gave her a stern look. 

“I promise to let you shower with bleach or lysol. Whatever will get the germs off” you laughed, he shook his head with a smile on his face. 

“Just this once” you grabbed his hand. He nodded, “just this once” 

The first picture was of the two of you laughing, your hand rested on his cheek. The second picture, you were in the same position, the two of you were smiling at each other and his hand rested on yours. The third picture, your foreheads were against each others and the final picture was of the 2 of you kissing. A tear rolled down his face, how could he have let you go like that? It hurt him just to think of you, let alone of how he let you go. 

“Pretty bo- what’s wrong?” Derek walked into the room, taking a seat beside him on the bed. Derek looks down at his hand to see the picture. Spencer looks at him, face covered in tears. Spencer opens his mouth to speak but nothing comes out, instead he falls into Derek’s arms. 

“Shh, it’s okay. let it out man, you’ll be okay”

“Why did I let her go?” Spencer mumbled into his shoulder 

“What do you mean ?” 

“I just let her leave. I should have tried harder” 

“Spencer, she’s happy. Don’t beat yourself up okay ? You’ll be happy again too. I know you will” 

It's hard to hear your name when I haven't seen you in so long

It's like we never happened, was it just a lie?

If what we had was real, how could you be fine?

'Cause I'm not fine at all

“Oh my sweet Derek!” Penelope’s heels clicked as she made her way into the bullpen. 

Derek spun his chair around at the sound of her voice, “hey mama. What’s going on?” he got up and gave her his chair. She sat down and Derek leaned against the edge of his desk, she grabbed his hand. 

“You’ll never guess who came to visit me today!”

“Who was it babygirl?” 

“y/n! and she bought my favourite cold brew for me, oh man I miss her” Penelope let out a big breath between leaning back in Derek’s chair. Derek chuckled, “how is she?” 

Spencer’s head perked up when Penelope said your name. He couldn’t help but wander over to Derek’s desk. “She’s good, her and Jacob ended things but she’s happy.” Penelope smiled at Derek. 

“Hey Spence” Penelope smiled at him, he gave her a tight lipped smile. “Just needed to borrow this stapler” he picked up the first thing he saw which was the stapler. 

“You have one on your desk pretty boy” Derek chuckled, “yeah. mines broken” 

The truth was that Spencer just wanted to know how she was. He was glad to hear that she ended things with her boyfriend, maybe he could talk to her and fix things. There was that glimmer of hope again. 

He knew it was foolish to think that they could go back to what they had, or to even be friends but he truly hoped that she would come back to him. 

I remember the day you told me you were leaving

I remember the make-up running down your face

And the dreams you left behind you didn't need them

Like every single wish we ever made

Spencer sat at his desk when the door unlocked. You stepped in and sighed, “hey” Spencer looked up at you from his book. 

“Oh sorry, I didn't realize you’d be home. I figured you were still at the office” you mumbled, shutting the door. 

“It’s fine. You're here for your stuff?” he asked, watching as you place your keys beside his. You nodded, “everything is still where it’s always been” he said before turning his attention to his book. You headed into the bedroom to pack up the rest of the clothes you had left. 

You bumped into the bedside table knocking over the picture frame that was on it. “Shit” you bent down to pick up the pieces but you cut your finger on a piece of glass. Spencer walked into the bedroom after he heard the frame fall. 

“Y/n, are you okay ?” he helped you up, leading you to the bathroom. 

“I’m fine, I just cut my finger in the frame” you ran some water over your hand. You watched as the blood washed down the drain, not waiting to make eye contact with Spencer. “Let me get you a bandaid” he bent down to get one from the drawer, his head brushing against your leg. 

“I’m fine” you walked out of the bathroom, his hand grabbed yours. He wrapped the bandage around your finger and you let him. “Thanks” you mumbled before stuffing the rest of your clothes into the suitcase. He walked with you to the front door. 

“Thanks for letting me come get my stuff” 

“You don’t need to thank me y/n” 

You went to unlock the door when you felt Spencer’s hand on yours. “Are you sure you want to do this?” Spencer asked you quietly, you shook your head and let out a shaky breath. “Spencer... don’t do this. please” 

“I can't let you go” 

“it’s over, okay? you can't stop me from leaving” 

“y/n I love you” he whispered, looking at you. 

“I love you too Spencer, but what’s done is done” 

Spencer stood there, the two of you looking at each other. His back against the door and your hand on the knob. You felt the tear roll down your cheek, you watched his hand reach up to wipe it away. Spencer’s hand rested on your cheek, his thumb rubbing softly against your face. 

Right then and there, you wanted nothing more than to be in his arms again but you know you had to hold yourself together. 

“Move, please” you looked at him, pushing his hand away from your face. 

A small okay left his lips before he stepped away from the door. 

I wish that I could wake up with amnesia

And forget about the stupid little things

Like the way it felt to fall asleep next to you

And the memories I never can escape

If today I woke up with you right beside me

Like all of this was just some twisted dream

I'd hold you closer than I ever did before

And you'd never slip away

“Good morning sleepy head” you smiled at him from the door. 

Spencer sat up and smiled at you. “Morning” you made your way over the bed with a cup of coffee for him. You set the mug on the bedside table before hopping back into bed with him. 

Spencer lays back down making himself comfortable against your chest. “How’d you sleep sweets?” you asked him as you ran your fingers through his curls. 

“I slept okay” he flipped over and onto his stomach. He rested his cheek on your stomach while looking up at you. 

The sun shined through the cracks in the curtains. The light glistened across your bare skin, accentuating your beauty. 

“Angel” Spencer mumbled smiling up at you. 

Your thumb rubbed softly against his cheek, “hm?” you smiled at him. 

“You look like an angel” his words causing you to blush. 

Tell me this is just a dream

'Cause I'm really not fine at all

Spencer's alarm goes off. 

6am. 

He rolled over to find an empty bed. Being back in your arms, you looking like an angel from the heavens was all a dream. 

You were actually gone. 

[lesbiten]

Mkay so I was thinking (hahaha fiyero joke) about Wicked (but that's nothing new)

And

It's the fact that Glinda repeatedly lets the people she loves go??? In contrast to Nessa???? Like. We see repeatedly that Glinda, when in a situation where someone she loves wants to leave her, she just kind of... Lets them??? Like. The fact Fiyero was acting as if Glinda had a hold on him when she literally would just let him go if he wanted to, it's like. A giant slap in the face??? And also like. She genuinely did care for whether or not he wanted to be in a relationship with her??? Like sure, I don't think either of them genuinely liked each other that way, and even Glinda was like. But you want this, right??? You'll be happy if we get married, right??? And Fiyero was like, "oh you know me" and it's like. How was she supposed to know he was unhappy???? But even though it was unexpected, Glinda still let Fiyero go, and it's just. I hate Fiyero's implication that he was trapped??? Like I guess you can imply that from the "surprise engagement party" but also like. I think at that point they've been in a "relationship" for several years???

But also like. Back to the point, Glinda repeatedly lets the people she loves go, in contrast to Nessa who always tries to make them stay and I'm just. There's something to be said there??? Like. Glinda are you okay??? Why do you feel compelled to let the people you love leave you???? MA'AM????

ive heard! (hahahahaha) (passes out)

anyways

yeah it kind of sucks that glinda is treated like she's holding fiyero hostage in this relationship when she...just isn't. she has no reason to. the only reason she's with him is for the social image of having the Perfect Fiance. and it's not like she's going to care about that SO MUCH that if he were to just like. say no to her. or break up with her. that she would threaten him or force him to stay?

fiyero did not love glinda for a single second he was with her, yet he has the audacity to act like SHE'S the bad one in their relationship. the worst thing she did was the surprise engagement, but i can excuse that because "congratulotions" is fucking hilarious (and also because like you said they've been together for years and she had no reason to believe he wasn't happy because he DOES NOT COMMUNICATE WITH HER)

it makes me more mad because like. he tells her to her face in thank goodness that she's wrong for being Glinda the Good. but that at the same time she "can't resist it". you know who tells her the exact same fucking thing? madame morrible in march of witch hunters. glinda gets told both by her fiance AND by the musical's antagonist that she's complacent with the awful things that have happened. but when fiyero does it, it's supposed to be a moment where he's like. teaching her a lesson or whatever the fuck. regardless it depicts him as being in the right for running off. when morrible says it, it's clear that it's her being openly hostile towards glinda even though we the audience KNOW glinda is not happy. they say the same thing in different words but they're treated like wildly different scenarios. they aren't, actually!

anyways i think i have gone FARRRR from the point but um. yeah i think nessa tends to hold tightly onto people in a similar fashion to elphaba because both of them feel like they are "wrong" in society's eyes. meanwhile glinda has never had problems making friends so she's more used to just...letting people leave because she doesn't have strong connections to them. so when she DOES form strong connections to people, it's just like. a learned behavior that if they drift away from her to just let them. she can find new friends anyways, right? (right..?????)

but i do think she realizes by the end (obviously too late) that she NEEDS to hold onto the people she loves. and by that point all of the people she cared about were too far away for her to get back. her going back for elphaba in for good is her choosing to try to keep a hold on her loved ones for the first time ever, and obviously that didn't work out for her

[simpingforgaara]

HITTING YOU BACK WITH THE SAME QUESTION- Any favorite characters in the series aside from our dear Lord Fifth Kazekage Gaara? ☺❤ You don't have to answer this now if you're about to get some sleep babe! I'm honestly going back to bed too now. 😂😂 Aaaaaa kisses!! ❤❤

Hhhhhh that's not fairrr😂 but ok I'll answer this anyway. Thanks for the ask @soliavenne and i'm sorry this took me so long because I literally forgot. HA!

Right, first off please keep in mind that Gaara-sama will always be my number one. No one can replace him :")) So ....

1. Gaara

I have too many reasons why I love him. As I always say, I keep a list under my bed and it's alpabhetized.

Mkay let see the others:

2. Obito Uchiha

I think he's one of the most misunderstood character in the show. He's actually kind hearted. In fact, he's way too kind for an Uchiha😂 He loved to help people, he respected his sensei, and most importantly, he cared for his friends. Though it didn't last long because Madara manipulated him and made him choose the wrong paths. I honestly feel really bad for him.

3. Indra Otsutsuki

Another 'Chaotic Evil'. I love him for his charisma, dominance leadership, and his... power. I mean... hnghh who doesn't love a good old-fashioned villain like him? :" and I think shall give a shout out to @izunathewriter she's responsible for whatever feelings that I have for Indra. :v

4. Temari

She's my first crush in Naruto. I love her personality so much. She's brave, out-spoken, and independent. She's such a loving sister, wife, and mother. Also, let me say this. This woman right here.... she should be everybody's role model istg. Ah, allow me to tag @temarihime , she's one of my fave roleplayer. I really love the way she portrays Temari :"

Mkayyyyy I think thats all. Thank you for coming to my TED talk😂

[girlofmanyfandoms]

We All Have Storms

A/n: So I finally finished it, and I tried to work on my imagery, sorry that it sucks! My Marellinh fic is next, so bully me into finishing that, mkay, enjoy!

Word count: 3794

Trigger Warnings: Brief homophobia scene

Warnings: some of my editing was deleted, so if it says ditto bug in there somewhere, I forgot to delete it

Writing taglist: @everyonehasthoughts @imaramennoodle @bookwyrminspiration @holesinmyfalseconfidence @percabetn @an-absolute-travesty  @linhamon-roll @holesinmyfalseconfidence @linhamon2 @a-lonely-tatertot @loverofallthingssmart @vibing-in-the-void @clearlykeefitz

“Thanks again for coming over, Keefe,” Fitz called over his shoulder as he lugged a bin onto the carpet in between them.

“You didn’t have to do this.”

“Are you kidding, Fitzy?” Keefe started emptying out its contents, seeming particularly interested in the box of Prattles pins. “This is a trip down memory lane. And besides, I could hardly miss the preparation for my best friend’s Winnowing Gala.”

“Ugh, how do you say that so casually? I feel like the weight of the world’s on my shoulders. That name is taboo.”

Keefe sighed. He didn’t really want to talk about the upcoming event - it made him uncomfortable and feel wrong in so many ways. He was in a battle between being proudly there for his friend and yelling for him to call it off. But there was no way around it.

“Tell me something. Do you feel like the weight of the world’s on your shoulders? Or the weight of the Vacker Legacy?”

Fitz pulled out a snow globe that he got as a souvenir from Tokyo and shook it aggressively. “Ok, that’s another phrase on the Not To Be Spoken List.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

Fitz sighed loudly and threw his hands in the air in frustration. Keefe caught the snow globe with one hand and shoved the bin the the side, scooting closer to him.

“I-I’m s-sorry, that wasn’t directed towards you, I-“

Keefe pressed a finger to Fitz’s lips, making him turn bright red. Keefe noticed and smirked a bit, but he told his inner voice to shut up. Don’t get your hopes up, Keefe. “Yeah, I know. I get it, dude, way more than you think. You don’t want to live your life being pressured to confine yourself to a perfect preppy boy who marries someone at the top of his match list so that he can gain the approval of family members and make a power baby. You don’t want your name to define you, so you try to let out your pain and your fears however you can.”

Fitz was stunned at how perfectly he had described his situation, and in such few words, yet he felt a pang of sympathy. “It must be difficult being a Sencen.”

“It must be stressful being a Vacker.”

“Now you’re avoiding the question.”

“You didn’t ask one.”

Fitz hesitated. Was he treading on dangerous grounds? Or was this just what a friend would do? “It was insinuated. I was asking what you’re struggling with in the Sencen family. And... if I can help.”

Keefe shook his head, dragging the bin back between them. “That’s not something you want to involve yourself with,” he huffed exhaustedly. “Nice rubix cube. Or at least I think that’s what Sophie called it.”

He solved it within seconds, but scrambled it again and repeated the process as Fitz watched in silence. Solved. Scrambled. Solved. Scrambled. Solved. Stopped.

Keefe raised an eyebrow. Fitz has moved closer and put his hands over Keefe’s. Neither could describe it, but all they knew was that it felt right. They met eyes for a moment, unable to move.

Why do I like this? Keefe thought to himself. I feel like we could stay like this all day. Meanwhile, all Fitz was thinking about was I hope he doesn’t hate me for getting so close, His hair really does good, and I hope my hands aren’t clammy, that would be embarrassing. Fitz pulled back abruptly and combed his hair back with his hands. “I’m really sorry about that.”

“You need to learn to stop apologizing for what isn’t your fault,” Keefe mentioned.

He laughed, relieved that the awkwardness had somewhat left the conversation. “I’ll do it when you do it.”

“No fair!” Keefe launched a pillow at him. 

Fitz was quick to grab one in defense, and soon, it was an all out war. 

It went on for a few minutes before Della peeked through the door.

“Boys, that’s no way to be on a day like this, you’re going to mess up your hair!”

“Sorry, Ms. Vacker,” Keefe said sweetly.

“Aw, you don’t need to apologize, Keefe. You’re a Vacker, too. Just make sure you two fix yourselves up.”

“But this is my signature hairstyle!”

“Then change into your other outfit and help Fitz. I’m getting Eda so she can help with the last minute preparations. You boys behave.” 

When Della walked off, Biana appeared behind her and rolled her eyes. “Boys.” But when Della has turned the corner she winked at them and ran off giggling.

Keefe tackled Fitz, and ended up straddling him. Fitz’s cheeks heated up and butterflies formed in his stomach as an alarm rang in his head, screaming This isn’t just a friends thing. He tried his best to ignore it, but the more he tried to focus on the words coming out of his mouth, the more he realized just how perfect and soft Keefe’s lips were. He gulped, hoping to distance himself from these thoughts. 

“Remember, Fitzy,” Keefe began, leaning in very close to his face. “Behave.”  

He whacked Fitz in the head with a pillow, grabbed his suit, and ran down the hall after Biana for some tips. Fitz was left shaking badly. Slowly, he sat himself up. 

“What a flirt,” he breathed, though quite out of breath. But there was no time for contemplation. One of the biggest events of his life was about to take place and he could not disappoint. He gave himself a few moments to steady his heart before taking his tailored outfit and stumbling into the bathroom. ————

Fitz groaned in annoyance for the umpteenth time that day.

“Y’know I can help you with that.”

Fitz squealed in surprise.

“Forgot I was around?”

Fitz seemed incapable of forming words, so he nodded.

“Come here,” Keefe gestured to him. “I learned how to tie a tie from Elwin, the trick is the make a huge, loose opening and swing this part over.”

Keefe finished tying it for him and patted his chest. “Done.”

“Thank you,” Fitz managed to say. He was sure Keefe was doing this on purpose now. 

And he was. Because some little part of him had hope.

———— “Want me to walk you down the aisle?” Keefe joked, knowing his friend needed a little less pressure and impending doom around him.

“Well, the crowd won’t allow you to walk out on the same time as me but...” Fitz trailed off. Was he really going to ask this?

“But what?”

“Can you hold my hand? At least until they open the curtains? I need to feel grounded.”

“Aw, I ground you? How sweet!” While his tone was teasing, his heart was jumping for joy.  

“You don’t have to-”

“No, I’ll do it,” Keefe blurted out a bit too fast. He cleared his throat. “Wouldn’t want you to feel alone on your big day.”

They interlocked fingers and Keefe felt like the floor was swaying beneath his feet. It couldn’t be. He had to be misinterpreting Fitz’s emotions. Was that joy? And happiness? And nervousness? It had to be because of the crowd chanting his name on the other side of the curtain. It had to be. 

But maybe it’s not, the voice called. Keefe pushes the thought to the side once more. He didn’t have a chance with Fitz. Boys don’t match with other boys, and there’s no way someone as kind and dorky and fun as Fitz would like a prankster artist with mommy and daddy issues. No way at all.

Keefe squeezed his hand. “You ready to go out there?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Let’s go then.” Keefe nodded to Dex, who was standing by the controls, ready to move. Dex nodded back, and deafening cheers erupted as Fitz, in his royal blue suit, came into view from beyond the real curtains. Keefe patted his back and slipped to the side to let him pass. Fitz flashed his pretty smile, masking the pain and fear. ————

“Evelyn Tanaka, I’m pleased to meet you, Mr. Vacker.” The girl curtsied in front of him.

He offered a modest and seemingly genuine bow and smile. “You look lovely tonight, Ms. Tanaka.”

She swatted his arm playfully. “I’m sure you’ve told that to all the girls here.”

Fitz put his hand on his chest, playfully mocking taking offense to her comment. “Of course not, Ms. Tanaka. Us Vackers have morals, laws, and tastes. I would never be so rude as to reuse a compliment. I give them out the those who deserve it.”

Evelyn blushed and spun around so Fitz could get a full view of her dress and hair. “I take it that means that I’m to your taste?”

“Very much so. Care for a drink?” He extended his hand and she gladly accepted, earning plenty of jealous glares. Biana came to the rescue, jumping into conversation with the group of girls nearest to them and talking on and on about the latest fashion trends in Atlantis. Fitz sent her a grateful look, glad he would have a little more space to figure out what he was going to do.  

Evelyn was a nice girl, and clearly very kind and powerful. Endearing, even. But Fitz had his heart sent on a certain ineligible bachelor.

Keefe was watching from across the room, half heartedly flirting with some of the girls who had lost hope in winning Fitz over, just like him. They locked eyes, trying to communicate all the words they might never get to say. A frown turned to a scowl on Keefe’s face as he excused himself from the conversation and stormed outside into the utopia-like grounds. Fitz didn’t understand why when he realized that Evelyn had closed in, adjusting his tie.  

“I’m really sorry, Evelyn, my friend stepped out for a bit and he looked sick, I’m gonna go check on him. Save me a dance?”

“Of course!” Evelyn leaped for joy, and went to find a friend of hers to tell her of her supposed victory.

He rushed outside, fiddling with the ring box that his father had given him just in case he found the “right one.” It was so tempting to give it to Keefe, but with the amount of time it took to recognize his feelings, he wasn’t quite sure either of them were ready for such a big leap.

At last, he found Keefe, legs dangling from a sturdy tree branch. “Oh, you’re here,” he said coldly. His voice was almost apathetic.

Fitz’s eyes welled with tears, his mind a storm of emotions that he was sure Keefe could sense from the few feet that separated them. Fitz got a running start and climbed onto the branch beside his.

Keefe chanced a glance at him, and immediately wished he hadn’t. Fitz was silently crying, shoulders shaking, and gasping for air. Because of him. The angry facade slipped away and he climbed to the next branch to sit beside him and pull him into a side hug. Fitz leaned on his shoulders and took the tissue that Keefe offered. He cleaned his face up, but his eyes were still red and puffy, and he was sobbing without tears. 

Fitz reminisced about all the tragedies and battles they had fought in there years on this Earth, and yet nothing beat this. Keefe rocked him gently. “You ready to talk about it?”

He chuckled bitterly, but had take a gulp of air. “What is there to say?”

Keefe tugged slightly on the fairy lights in the tree and looked off into the distance, still rubbing circles onto his back consolingly. “A lot of things. Mainly us and.... where tonight is going?”

The hesitancy in his voice was blatant, and it frightened him. Despite it being a relatively cloudless night, Fitz was shivering. There were so things that could go wrong: his family looking down on him, his family’s image crumbling, the shame of a bad match, and a million other things that crashed and mixed with the other concerns swirling around in his mind, like a tropical storm transforming into a hurricane. 

Fitz tried to focus on Keefe’s expression and body language, to read him and see into his brain. No telepathy. That’s crossing the line. Instead, he focused on Keefe’s features, which were much more prominent in the moonlight. His expression was pained, and his eyes held the sorrow of trillions of widows and widowers alike. His hair practically glowed, and seemed more unruly than usual, like waves raging in a storm. There was a war going on in his mind, and he wasn’t strong enough to make it out alive. Not alone, at least. But still, Fitz needed to set the record straight - or rather not straight.

Impulsively, Fitz seized Keefe’s wrist and finds his vein. “Do you want me to call off the Gala? For you?”

“I-I don’t know what you mean.” Keefe tried to pull out of Fitz’s vice grip, but he held strong, still gentle enough not to hurt him. “Why would you it off? This is one of the biggest events of your life.”

Fitz sighed, his heart rate picking up. He was going to have to be blunt about it. “Do you like me? Romantically?”

“What? No!” he squeaked.

And his heart skipped three beats.

One for guilt. One for fear. And one like a held breath.

“You liar,” Fitz accused, but he said it with a breathy laugh, full of relief. Releasing his arm, he wrapped him in a tight hug and murmured into his shoulder. “I like you too, dummy.”

Keefe’s eyes were widened in surprise, and his response was rather delayed, but he hugged him back, resting his chin on top of Fitz’s head. “You couldn’t have given me a few hints?”

“I asked you to hold my hand!”

“Yeah, but you could’ve meant that platonically. Be more clear, Fitzy,” Keefe teased, pulling back a bit to boop his nose.

Fitz blushed furiously. They had reached the eye of the hurricane. It was calm. Safe. Serene. “Well, are you gonna kiss me or not, idi-”

Keefe didn’t wait for the end of the sentence as he tilted Fitz’s chin up and gently pressed their lips together. They grinned, but didn’t break the kiss. It was a picture perfect moment, something taken right from a fairytale. A tidbit from a could-have-been.

But it was over all too soon, and a gasp from just beyond them sent them tumbling into the storm once more. Fitz pulled away and his face went pale. He witnessed it. His father. Alden Vacker. Had witnessed him kissing his male best friend in a tree on the day of his Winnowing Gala.

“What is the meaning of this, Fitzroy?!”

“I can explain-”

“There is no explanation! You disgrace the Vacker name on a daily basis, why must you make it worse by playing these games?”

“Dad, it’s not a game-”

“It’s disgusting!”

“It’s LOVE, dad.”

“You’re fooling yourself! There are hundreds of girls ready to give you their everything and you waste your time with this blasphemy! This wouldn’t be happening if you’d just learn to control yourself.”

“I can’t control the way I feel!”

“You and I both know that’s not true. And you can still control how you act, just enough to save yourself and the rest of the Vackers the embarrassment!”

“Will you listen to me for once in your life?!” Fitz shouted. He was done with his father’s manipulation. “I am romantically attracted to Keefe. I like men. That’s the way I am, that’s the way I was born, that’s how I feel. I’m not in control of it, and I’m not going to accept any disrespect from anyone about this! Much less a lowlife like you!”

“You are not my son,” Alden spat, stomping his foot on the ground.

“And you aren’t welcome here,” Della snarled. Her jaw was clenched and it was clear she was about to go in for the kill. Edaline stood behind her supportively, looking just as deadly with a string of fairy lights coiled in her hands threateningly.

“Radelle, Eda, surely you see-”

“The only place you be seeing yourself is off of my property,” Della countered.  

Alden scoffed in disbelief. “I believe you mean OUR property, dear.”

“Then you forget who the Vacker name really belongs to.” Edaline handed Della the coil of fairy lights. “You take care of him, I’ll start sending the girls home.”

“Gladly,” Della said through clenched teeth, before turning to the boys. “You two can have a sleepover tonight, I’ll bake some treats. But remember, behave.” Fitz could’ve sworn he saw his mother wink before she forcefully escorted Alden out of Everglen. HIs mind was incapable of forming full thoughts.

“Sleepover, huh?” Keefe hopped down from the tree. “Sounds like we could cause some chaos.” Keefe opened his arms in expectation.

“First of all, do NOT make a mess in my room,” Fitz started. “Second of all, there’s no way I’m dropping down there. You won’t catch me.”

“Aw, come on, Fitzy. Aren’t relationships about trust?”

“Wait, so you’re comfortable with the label of ‘boyfriend’?”

“Yes, Fitzroy Avery, but that’s besides the point. I wanna carry you upstairs. Drop down and get on my back.”

Fitz cringed at the sound of his name, but dropped down anyway, clinging to Keefe’s back for his dear life. 

“Onwards!” He cheered as he gave Fitz a piggy back ride all the way to his room. ——————

Fitz smiled down at the boy relaxing in his lap, lovingly combing his fingers through the boy’s blonde locks. This must be what makes life so divine. This is what euphoria is. The little gems of life where you cherish others with every fiber of your being. This is happiness. He’s what I want. Keefe leaned towards Fitz’s touch, his mind clearing plagued by other thoughts. “What’s wrong?” Fitz asked. “And no beating around the bush. I want to know what’s really bothering you.” When Keefe didn’t talk, he added, “You’re going to have to open up sooner or later, babe. I don’t want to be left out of the circle. I want you to let me in.”

“You don’t want to know the storm growing inside of me,” Keefe rasped, blinking back a few tears. “It’s too dangerous. And I don’t want to risk losing you.”

His eyebrows furrowed and he smiled sadly. “Keefe, you could never lose me over sharing your thoughts and feelings. This relationship is a two-way street - you open up to me and I open up to you. And... we all have storms, they’re just a little different. Some people might have thunderstorms, while others have hurricanes, and some might just have some windy days. But that doesn’t invalidate it. A storm is a storm, and a problem is a problem, regardless of the size and severity.”

“Getting poetic, are we?” Keefe joked, before biting his lip. “Sorry. I guess it wouldn’t kill to tell you some things.”

“Take as long as you need to. You don’t have to tell me everything at once, if you’re not comfortable with it.”

Sighing, he gave himself a moment to collect his thoughts. “I... just hated being around them. I couldn’t stand the way they expected me to fit into this perfect mold, or their version of perfect.”

“I hated how they only talked to me when they thought I was doing something wrong, something shameful. They made me feel like my best wasn’t enough. So... I stopped trying my best. I stopped obeying their stupid rules, I stopped thinking about what others would think of me. I wanted to be imperfect, and I wanted to shove it in their faces. I pranked, I ditched, I did anything I could to defy them. I was tired of being the circus puppet, so I cut my strings and stole the show.”

Fitz remained silent for a moment, Keefe shifting uncomfortably in his lap. He went to get up, but Fitz placed a hand on his chest, stopping him. “Sounds like you’ve got quite the thunderstorm.”

Keefe scoffed. “More like a whirlpool. And I don’t want you to drown with me.” “It won’t get that far,” Fitz insisted, concern emitting from him in waves. “I won’t let it.”

“And what can you do to stop it, Fitzy? The tides are turning, and absolutely no one is strong enough to steer the ship away.”

“You don’t know that. Keefe, I need you to have hope.”

“I knew it was a bad idea saying anything.”

Keefe closed his eyes from the sudden exhaustion, using what little energy he had left to turn to Fitz. “Can you emote a little quieter? I know I’m the light of your life, but you don’t need to worry about me that much.”

Oh, it was a whirlpool alright. But not in the way that Keefe imagined. Fitz’s heart pounded like a marching drum, as he reached into his back pocket. 

Keefe opened an eye in mild curiosity. “What’re you doing?”

“Get up, I have something to offer.”

“Oh?” His mischievous smirk returned, the manner in which his eye was dazzling hinting how clever and evasive he thought he had been. “And what would that be?”

The sapphire on the ring, placed firmly in its royal blue velvet box, glimmered from the light of the chandelier, and Keefe practically stumbled back in shock.

Fitz roller his eyes amusedly. “I’m not proposing. Not yet, anyway. I’m making you a promise. A deal. And if you accept this ring, you agree to it.”

“Bribery, Avery dearest? I thought you were above that.”

Fitz’s lips twitched with the beginnings of a smile. “Think more negotiation.”

“Alright,” Keefe said, scooting closer in a criss cross position. “I’m listening.”

He took a deep breath before speaking up again. “Keefe, in giving you this ring, I am vowing to always be by your side, through thick and thin. I will respect your boundaries, and let you open up on your own time. I will let you in just as much as you let me in. I will express myself just like you do. I promise to be with you no matter the weather.”

“Then I’ll be your lighthouse in the darkness,” Keefe responded softly.

Fitz slipped the ring onto Keefe’s finger. To no one’s surprise, it was a perfect fit.  

“It looks good on you,” Fitz complimented before a realization flashed by his eyes. “But if you don’t like it, we can find another!”

“It’s perfect,” he reassured him. “You’re perfect.”

Fitz hid his face to cover his blush. “So you promise? Through turbulence and tranquility?”

They interlocked their fingers.

“Always.”

[najatheangel]

Idol Life Ship🎶

hi ! can i have a private idol life ship ? im an aries and an enfp :D im 5’8 and i speak english and norwegian (im learning japanese and spanish rn) my family has been forcing me to be in chorus since the 3rd grade, so im pretty good at singing. i also like dancing even tho i suck at it. i have a small friend group and i like spending time by myself. i can be pretty sarcastic n childish sometimes :/ i like to draw and listen to music (mostly garage rock and shoegaze) i also really like horror films :D my aesthetic is 90s skater grunge mixed [...]

@jisungindastarrs Heyy lovlie, thanks so much for requesting. Love your username btw it’s adorable. Of course I can do that for you. I hope you enjoy it.

Your Company: P Nation. Singing was a good hobby for you and you posted Blackpink’s Whistle cover on Instagram. The staff of P Nation saw it and reached out for you to try and audition for the company. The things that stood out to them was your creativity, ability to speak different languages and talent in the singing department. You’ve trained for 4 years under P Nation.

Number of Members: Total of 4 members. 1 Chinese, 1 Thai, 1 Korean and then there’s you.

Group Concept: Grunge/Indie

Your Position: Main Vocalist/ Face of Group. Your the first co-ed group to debut in P Nation. Your music style and concept is so different from most kpop groups out their. It’s a mix of live band alternative music with a sprinkle of rock. Your group is also the youngest in the company which everyone treats you like the babies and spoil you when you deserve it of course. The best part of being apart of P Nation is there is no rules when it comes to making music or creatively expressing yourself. In the group, your more like the middle child that’s always getting teased, but also receive it out of love. You tend to be the savage one in the group that no one dares to tease too much or they’ll regret it. In interviews, your the spokes person being able to handle answering questions in any language. Lastly, your known to have the most crazy hair colors of the group experimenting all kinds of styles every comeback!

Your Scandal: You were shipped amongst one of your male members in the group which sparked dating rumors. Of course you both joked about it in weekly idol by flirting, but immediately shut it down once it got too far. People never dared to try to start fake relationship rumors again and admired you two as brother and sister.

Girl BFF: Sana from Twice. Your personalities are every opposite, but in a sense it works so well. She mentioned in an interview one time that she admires your music and hopefully one day she can work with you. Your both also a child a heart which makes hang outs so exciting. You two can be excited over the smallest things such as eating pepperoni pizza or buying matching friendship bracelets together. Even though she’s the more cheerful one in the relationship, her energy easily transfer your way.

Boy BFF: Mark from Nct. This man is another huge fan of your teen love and grunge concepts not to mention the splash of rock in your music it reaches out to a lot of young audiences around his age. He was awkward first impression not knowing how to greet you at many music events, but you congratulated him during his resonance promotions and the rest was history. He was the one that helped you improve on Korean and you helped him improve on Spanish so that he can interact with his Hispanic fans. You also learned how to play guitar from him so you can play while singing the acoustic version of your songs. Overall this beautiful friendship blossomed at the perfect time.

Ideal Type: Ryujin from Itzy. You both tend to go shopping every weekend and practice choreography ever since you’ve debuted in Korea. She has been also one of your first friends supporting your music throughout your career. She talks about you almost all the time amongst her members sounding like she is so starstrcuked over you. They was also kind of teasing her saying you might’ve almost had a crush on you, but she just respects you so much and wishes the best for you. She also protects you from creepy guys that try to ask for your number in bars and clubs. 

Your BF: Changbin from Stray Kids. This man admired your style of music, fashion sense and your ability of not caring what people thinks. He sees that strength in you that can help inspire other woman which he loves even more. When he met you, he wanted to ask you out on the spot and become the ultimate power couple, but he wanted to take his time by getting to know you as a person instead of moving too fast. Your both still young and have busy schedules so you guys haven’t officially started dating until you start getting older and feel more comfortable sharing your relationship with your friends and family. 

Since you didn’t specify for bf or gf I just shipped you with the first person that came to mind.

How long have you debuted for: 7 years. Your songs still age very well and reach out to the next generation of teens and young adults. 

Other Activities: Model/Makeup Ambassador

That’s all I got for you love. Feel free to come back anytime and request again mkay? Hope you have a nice day/night. 

[domjaehyun]

Disclaimer: THIS in response to Miss @ Outscale-n. This is NOT in response to Jewel in any way. Oh don’t worry, we KNOW you guys “wont care a shit” if he “did say it” because it’s always OUR fault because how dare we feel a way about something related to and derived from smth used to degrade us, used in tandem while counting us as only worth “3/5 OF A HUMAN BEING” in this country for over 400 years, by people who aren’t apart of our culture. WE KNOW YOU DON’T CARE. You show us all the time!!! We

more under the cut!!

don’t need you to remind us by telling us outright, thanks though ❤️. & if you aren’t American & think i’m not being LITERAL when I say “3/5 of a human being”, go google “3/5 Compromise”. Black were considered three-fifths of an actual human being🙂 & yes, we grow up being taught this. It isn’t some wokery, we learned this multiple times in school in Social Studies (History class). Moving on with the rest of my response, “a lot of shit happening in this world only to care bout a young asian man saying the N word.” Yes but an Asian guy getting attacked in American purely for being Asian is treated like a whole ass crisis in the Kpop fandom but the culture this godforsaken sub genre takes it’s inspo- no, the culture THE WHOLE POP CULTURE OF THE WORLD takes its inspo from, saying to not use a fucking slur bc people here get killed for being black & happening to be in an area near a racist at the wrong time who kill JUST BECAUSE, knowing they will get away with it, AS IF THIS COUNTRY HASN’T SPENT SEVERAL CENTURIES treating us as subhumans & then getting all the rest of the fucking planet to CO-SIGN their actions & even DEFEND DISRESPECT AGAINST US while simultaneously BITING OUR CULTURE DAILY from smth as small as Tiktok dances to inventions to comedy to fashion TO OUR WHOLE ASS BODY SHAPE AND FEATURES while we get shat on for being BORN that way, ISN’T ALLOWED TO THINK IT’S A WORTHWHILE PROBLEM TO COMPLAIN ABOUT!?!!!?! *Note that when I say our culture I mean this: go look up where rock and roll music came from. Now go look up where jazz music came from. Now go look up where Disco came from. Now do Bluegrass Country music. Now House music. Now do Gospel. Now do Go-go. You already know where R&B, HipHop, Funk, and reggae came from. But go look that shit up. All of it. Mkay? Mkay. I DONT EVEN CARE THAT HE MOUTHED IT, bc I KNOW he knows we didn’t like it & maybe didn’t think it’s not allowed if it’s just a lyric, & he isn’t gonna do it again & he isn’t problematic any other way so I don’t ever even think about the fact that it happened outside of when it gets brought up. You hear that? I don’t even think about it. Other idols have done things that make me feel much more offended personally. I will NOT chastise my fellow Black stans if they have a prob with it. I am INFINITELY more pissed off that anyone, some like YOU thinks not only that they have a right to give us a speech on what the FUCK is ok to do when we get abused in every sense of the word by each race and culture who isn’t us in this fucked up ass insensitive un-empathetic piss pot for a planet called Earth. THAT’S what stoked the issue, THAT’S was has someone as docile as me wishing VEHEMENTLY I could reach through this screen pull you out by your neck & make you walk a DAY IN SOME OF OUR shoes to make you understand why what you NEED to do instead of policing how the fuck we feel & our conversations, while we work to heal ourselves as a people for shit that continues to happen systematically, is learn EMPATHY & to learn that not being a part of the solution is being part of the problem. You are either FOR us or AGAINST us, so when you say “we don’t care” know EXACTLY what the hell you are implying you don’t care about when we use those words because it speaks VOLUMES to your quality as a human being!! I have no idea who the person that sent that message to Jewel is & I wanna tell off ANYONE who is rude to her but whether it gets acknowledged or not, I will NOT sit here in silence & keep letting people tell me I don’t have PERMISSION to feel something is a problem. YOUR INTENTIONAL UNAPOLOGETIC STATEMENT is more inflammatory than Jaehyun’s mistake, Miss outscale-n. THERE. & Furthermore, did it ever occur to YOU PEOPLE that the reason Black stans are so loud when an idol fucks up is bc we have to LITERALLY REPEAT INCESSANTLY when & what an idol did wrong bc you TALK OVER US to drown what couldn’t been 3 comments, turned into 300 because you wanted to SILENCE US??? You didn’t, did you, miss outscale-n? You didn’t, @ EACH & EVERY IGNORANT KPOP STAN who thinks that because ‧~˚₊*̥˚♡ it doesn’t affect me or Korean men so it’s not a big deal, stop saying those things you’ll make him feel bad about himself !!♡*̥₊°~ !!!?? Well let me tell you something, I have stanned plenty of male idols over the past 13 years so believe me when I tell you, lots of them fuck up big time. Some I have forgiven, whether other Black stans do or not & how we deal w/ idols who fuck up either as a whole it on a personal level IS OUR PREROGATIVE, but no one, even other Black stans- ESPECIALLY other Black stans, should be telling any of us what to feel or why. This is not about Jaehyun anymore. This isn’t even about any idols anymore. I am significantly more angry at how terribly Black people get treated when we speak up for ourselves, than I am in what an idol does. Nothing says “hate and shitty vibes” like publicly downplaying and disregarding people’s feelings while you proclaim you “won’t excuse yourself from what you said” since you “said what you wanted to” tho right lol

[ladyboltontoyou]

Arthur Morgan x Reader: Ol’ Fashion Fingers

Ask: ahhh okay so the kinda gross idea! i was wondering if you could write something where the reader is on her period and arthur takes care of her, and i mean...we both know he’s not afraid to get his hands dirty and also...a bit of blood won’t gross him out right? so maybe...he takes care of her and later...works his magic fingers to makes her feel better? i know it’s probably very gross but my cramps are so extremely bad this month i’m dying i just need some arthur i LOVE your writing btw!

Warning: Fingering, period blood

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Reader

A/N: I am so sorry I took so long on this. Whoever sent in the ask, hope you enjoy! (Lmfao at the ‘say no more’ part at the end) Also, they didn’t have tampons or pads back then I don’t think so I used rags, since that’s what I remember women had to use before our ‘luxury’ items. 

“Kill me, put a bullet in my skull, please, it would be a mercy.” Your cramps this month were killing you. They hadn’t been this bad in years, not since you first started having them when you were very young.

“That bad?” Arthur asked as he chewed on a some of the candy Hosea had bought for you.

“You have no idea.” You sighed, watching him clean his gun. The two of you were sitting in a room at one of the Taverns in Valentine, you had rented out a room and bought special service to help ease the pain. Every thirty minutes a maid would bring you a fresh cold rag, a hot blanket, and some water. Karen had done it the last time she got her period and said it was one of the best things she’d ever spent money on. 

Arthur set his gun down on the dresser and made his way over to you, sitting down on the edge of the bed beside your feet. “Well, I’m sorry to hear that. Is there anything I can do for you?”

You hummed and looked up, pretending to be deep in thought. “I don’t know… kiss me?” 

Arthur broke into a smile and leaned across you, giving you a quick kiss. “How was that?”

“I still hurt. Kiss me again.”

He kissed you again, longer this time and with more movement. When he pulled back he raised a brow, questioning silently.

“I think it’s working, but I can’t tell. Maybe you’re not trying hard enough.” You forced yourself into a sitting position, now face to face with the man. 

Arthur let out a sigh, not one of annoyance but rather amusement, and brought you in for another kiss. This time you caught him off guard and slipped your tongue in his mouth, bringing up a hand to run your fingers through his hair. His hat fell onto the ground but neither of you noticed. 

The kiss didn’t end as quickly as the others did. Even when he pulled the sheets off of your body your lips remained connected. Even when his hands slid up your legs and gave your thighs a squeeze. You only broke the kiss so you could take your pants off. They were your go-to that time of the month pair, they had holes in the knees and were black so if you had any sort of accident no one would be able to tell. 

You had changed your rag not too long ago so it wasn’t that bloody, thankfully. Even though Arthur had mentioned many times before that he had seen blood almost every day of his life, it wasn’t anything new or gross to him. Still, sometimes you felt a bit embarrassed. 

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” You reminded Arthur as he planted kisses along your neck while his hands squeezed your bare hips.

“Quit that. Lay down and relax, alright?” 

You nodded and laid back down flat on your back after you removed your button up shirt. Arthur hadn’t bothered removing any of his clothing since what he planned on doing didn’t involve him at all. Maybe afterward if what he had in mind didn’t hurt, but he couldn’t imagine anything bigger than a finger inside you would do anything other than cause more unnecessary pain.

He started with massaging your clit, working you up enough so you were shaking. Your little whimpers and moans were almost too much for him but he kept himself together and focused on you and you only. 

After a while of doing that he lightly trailed his fingers down your folds, teasing your entrance with feather-like touches. He kept his eyes on your face and searched for the slightest sign of discomfort, but he only found pleasure. You had your mouth slightly open, letting out quick puffs of air, and your eyes closed. 

“Don’t hesitate to stop me, you hear?” As if. After all the time you’d known Arthur, he still surprised you every day by how sweet he could be. You’d never find another man living as considerate, honest, and utterly selfless as Arthur Morgan.

“M’kay.” 

He looked at you for a few more seconds before he was satisfied that you were totally okay with everything. He then pushed one finger inside you, slow and only partial. Almost immediately he looked up to make sure you didn’t look like you were in any pain. You seemed fine, eyes still closed with your bottom lip between your teeth from anticipation.

You wished he would get on with it, you weren’t made of glass. But you knew he was just being careful, and plus, it wasn’t like you didn’t like when he teased you a little. In your experience, an orgasm always felt better after you had to work for it. 

When he was finally knuckle deep he tested out a gentle curl, knocking a moan out of you. “You alright girl?” He asked, his voice raw and husky, and stilled his movements. 

“Keep going.” 

He obliged and continued curling his fingers, making you forget about the pain going on inside you. You’d never actually fingered yourself whilst on your period, it would be too hard to hide the blood on your fingers if anyone walked in on you. You had settled for outside stimulation which usually eased your pain for a while, but this was a whole different feeling. It was as if you weren’t even on your period at all. No cramps, your spine didn’t ache and your legs weren’t sore to the touch. You didn’t even have a headache anymore.

It didn’t take you long to come. The feeling of his long thick fingers inside you coupled with the erotic image of him sitting fully clothes between your spread legs was too much to handle. Even if you wanted to prolong the whole thing you couldn’t, your orgasm came too sudden and fast for you to do anything about it. All you could do was let out a couple of swear words with his name thrown in a few times and came around his fingers.

Arthur was blown away, as he was every time he had the ‘privilege’, as he called it, to watch you come. “Jesus, woman.” Was all he could say.

You sat up with shaky arms, catching your breath as you ran your fingers through your hair. “That almost works better than morphine.” You joked and grabbed your shirt, slipping your arms through the sleeves but not bothering to button it back up.

“Speakin’a morphine, you should have some soon,” Arthur said as he watched you grab a new rag from the bedside table, wiping the cum and blood from your thighs before you handed it to the man beside you. “Unless the maid rode off with my money.”

“Oh, Arthur. You didn’t have to do that.” 

“Don’t ‘oh Arthur’ me.” He said as he wiped his fingers off, throwing the rag on the floor with the other one. “It was either that or cocaine, and you don’t need that right now. Last time you had some of that we couldn’t get you to sit down for ten minutes, you remember that?”

Shaking your head you laughed, getting one more rag to put in the pants you’d just slipped back on. “Yeah, I do.” You had chewed on far too many pieces of cocaine gum with the intention to get some work done around camp, but you ended up finishing all the chores within thirty minutes. So for the rest of the day, you were doing tasks that didn’t need to be done, such as over-hunting and fishing. The camp had to cook triple what they normally did every night so the food wouldn’t spoil. 

“I will admit, once you’re done with this whole bleeding thing it wouldn’t hurt to have you hunting again. You’re ‘bout the only one in camp besides me who can shoot anything without ruinin’ the meat.” 

You smiled at his compliment and laid back down, savoring the time you had left until the pain would kick back in. Hopefully, the morphine would get to you before then. “Thank you, Arthur. I feel much better now. You’re so good at that, I might start paying you to make me feel better instead of these maids.”

Arthur smiled and scooted up so he could lay down beside you. “Yeah, well, seeing you like that is all the payment I could ask for.” He kissed your cheek and you couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Oh yeah? Well, I think I’ve got some more to pay you.” 

Arthur held up his hand. “Don’t say nothin’ else.”

[scullyy]

Valentine’s Day?

Title: Valentine’s Day?

Pairing: Clementine x Louis

Word Count: 1364

Summary: How does one celebrate Valentine’s Day during the apocalypse? Louis tries to make the gift straight from the heart.

A/N: Happy Valentine's Day you lovely people! I thought I’d throw this simple yet fluffy one-shot out there to celebrate the day. Even if you don’t have a valentine, tell your friend you love them, tell your parents, do something nice for yourself! Enjoy  :)

If you want I’ll be your valentine mkay just saying slide into my inbox xx

-

His morning began so nicely, the sun was shining in the sky with not a cloud in sight. There were even some birds chirping in the distance. Louis took in a deep breath, he dreamed of this kind of weather. But of course Violet had to spoil it all.

“Did you realise that today is Valentine's Day? I forgot that was a thing.”

Louis felt the panic grow from his bones, a completely different reaction to Violet. “Excuse me? Today...is Valentine's Day?” Please no, please no, please no-

She took another small bite from her apple, not seeming to care about the holiday. “That’s what Aasim said, you know his calendar is never wrong.”

Louis hit the top of his head, jolting his thoughts awake. “Fuck, he’s probably preparing something awesome for Ruby. That’s it, I need to start looking at that calendar more.”

Violet nodded along. “You’ve always been into the romantic shit, any plans for Clem?” She failed to mention how she busted Clementine frantically picking flowers earlier, seems like both had forgotten about the holiday.

“Well, it’s hard to make plans when you forget the day,” He ran a hand this his bed hair, him and Clem had only been together for a short amount of time, would it be too much to do something? “Should I give her a gift?"

Violet chucked the apple core onto the ground. "What would you even give her? Not like there's a store you could go to and even if by some chance you had chocolates hidden away I'd be beating your ass for not sharing." She couldn’t help but feel jealousy wrap it’s greedy claw around her heart. Minnie never seemed to care this much, then again Violet herself never pressed the issue.

"I am so screwed,” His heart hammered deep from within his chest. Clementine deserved something! Maybe a drawing? Not original enough, AJ seemed to have a drawing for her every night. A performance? Something artsy? “I’ve got it!”

Violet rolled her eyes, she didn’t want to spend her day talking about romance, let alone hearing Louis of all people talk about it. She kept her stare on the bugs that chomped away at what was left of the apple.

The impatient man cleared his throat. “Please Louis, go ahead and tell me,” Louis impersonated his buddy as best as he could, his voice cracking slightly. “You still have Sophie’s craft supplies?”

“Tenn has them, what are you trying to do? He doesn’t have a lot of stuff, the best you could do is a sock bunny.” 

“Are you still annoyed at me for that? I told you a hundred times, I’m sorry that I used your sock for my art project. Anyhow,” Louis tugged at his coat in an elegant fashion, he could see Clem's face now. All lit up with a lovely smile, maybe even a dusty pink blush? Man now that's a sight to behold. "Excuse me, dear Violet, I have a...uh...something to make! I’ll figure it out."

Vi saluted him as he ran over to Tenn's table. "Catch you later Lou."

Tenn and AJ were minding their own business when Louis flew himself onto their table, frightening the young boys. "Sorry to interrupt, can I borrow some art stuff Tenn?"

Tenn briefly looked at his box of supplies. "Sure, what for?"

"I need to make a Valentine's Day gift for Clementine," He pulled the box towards him and began to dig through the mess. "Sorta last minute I know."

AJ scratched the side of his head with the blunt pencil in his hand. "What's that?" Louis always seemed to know everything, however the mystery of the Leprechaun was still shrouded in darkness. 

"It's a day where people appreciate those they care about, a day to celebrate love." Valentine's Day at the Louis household consisted of overly priced gifts and a pair of diamond earrings that always replicated the one from the year prior. His father was a man of unoriginal taste.

"Oh, love." AJ smiled at the answer. Love sounded so...so...magical, based off what Clementine had told him in the past. 

Louis came across a small ball of string and a goldmine of plastic charms. There was one of a daisy, the sun, a bright pink heart and even a frog. "Jeez, who the hell thinks of these designs?" He slid one of the charms onto the weak string, immediately straightening his back as an idea shot through him. “That’s it!”

One by one the charms joined together along the string, he made sure the neon heart was in the centre. After tying the ends of the string together, Louis brandished his creation. “It doesn’t look like much but I once caught Clem eyeing down a broken bracelet she found when we were on patrol not long ago. She seemed to enjoy it.”

“What does it do?” AJ asked. What good could a few pieces of plastic do together? Love is weird.

Louis hid it inside his pocket. “It’s called a bracelet. People would wear them for style and flair.”

“Flair?”

Louis shot AJ down before he could keep going. “We’re gonna be here all day at this rate, do you know where Clem is?”

Tenn pointed at the school. “I heard her telling Ruby something about the piano room, she might still be there.” He also heard something about flowers but he wasn’t sure what that was about.

“Thank you, my dudes, onward we go.” Louis quickly wiped the dirt away from his pants, trying to look as presentable as possible. His steps were broad as he headed into the piano room, Clementine’s voice grew louder as he got closer. He knocked on the door whilst poking his head in, breaking the girl out of her thoughts.

“May I interrupt?”

She quickly hid something behind her back, swaying side to side innocently. “Sure Lou, what brings you here?” Her legs almost gave way beneath her, why was this so nerve-wracking? 

Louis kept his steps slow as to draw out the suspense, if he was going to do this he was going to be as dramatic as possible. “Would you believe that today is Valentine’s Day? A day where we tell those we care about just how much we care about them. I’m going to guess that you’re already aware of how much you mean to me, but I’m still going to say it,” He coughed loudly as he pulled the bracelet out. “Oh my darling Clementine, I am very glad to have the privilege of knowing you. If you ever break up with me I may just lose my mind.”

She tried to stifle a laugh as best as she could. “Well then, I promise not to break up with you anyways,” Her eyes travelled down to the bracelet held tightly in his hand. “What’s that?”

Louis opened up his palm to reveal her present, it shined beneath the flecks of sunlight pouring in. “I know it isn’t fancy and it’ll probably break after a week,” He slid the bracelet over her small wrist, it hung off her skin perfectly. “But it’s the thought that counts, right? Don’t say I never gave you anything.”

Clementine ran her fingers along the plastic charms, her jaw was hurting from smiling so hard. "I love it, did you make it?"

He shrugged as if it was no big deal. "I did. Tenn let me use his art supplies, AJ even supervised me." The bright, clean colours stood out against the dry dirt on her wrist.

"Well, I actually have something for you too," Clementine revealed the hand hidden behind her back and flashed him a wide variety of flowers. Having Violet catch her in the act was embarrassing, it would certainly be something the girl would bring up again in the future. So much for her stoic reputation.

Louis slowly took the small bouquet, inhaling the sweet smells it gave off. "Thank you, Clementine."

She pulled him into a hug, her hands draped over his shoulders loosely. "Happy Valentine's Day Lou, I'm glad I get to spend it with you."

[thegoodthebadthesickly]

Find The Cure: Natasha Romanoff/Black Widow

Another filled request from my Wattpad for @badthingshappenbingo

Warnings: Language

Prompt: Find the Cure

Fandom: MCU

Word Count: 12.2k

(Swirls are requested. Stars are completed)

Once again, sorry if Tumblr flubbed the formatting!

It happened fast. Natasha didn't even give  herself time to think before pushing Spider-Man out of the way of the bullet speeding towards his head.

Natasha put out her hand to help Peter up, the fight wasn't over yet. There were still at least seven of SaloTech's, a bio-engineering firrm that turned out (surprise, surprise) be building biological weapons, guys running around with bio weapon backpacks. No one was sure what the weapons were actually capable of, but, given the advances biotech had seen in the past few years, it was at best, a minor nuisance and at worst, a disease that could take out half of earth's population.

Na-Black Widow!" Peter yelled, some part of him mentally kicking himself for almost forgetting to use code names.

Honestly, she hadn't even felt the bullet hit her left bicep, adrenaline was a hell of a drug. Natasha at the injury. Yep. The bullet that almost hit Peter Parker between the eyes had dug itself into Natasha's bicep. Still not feeling pain, she had been trained long ago to block out distracting physical sensation-- pain had no place in a mission-- she reached around with her right hand and felt for, yep -- an exit wound. That would make things easier when she was getting patched up, at least.

"Spidey, I'm fine." Natasha said, careful to keep her voice even. She had been shot at so many times that it felt almost normal now, but the kid was still pretty new to Superhero stuff. She needed to get him back on track.

"Spider-Man? You with me?" Natasha squatted, putting out her good hand to help Peter up.

"Y-yeah." Peter shook his head, trying to clear the anxiety that was starting to creep in. He grasped Nat's hand and let himself be pulled up.

"You okay?"

"Fine. Flesh wound." Natasha said as she watched a meta-human get smacked into the pavement by Bruce.

"You just don't stay down, do you?" Someone shouted behind Natasha.

"No. I find it keeps me from kicking the bad guys ass." Natasha turned around smoothly, smiling.

Buff blond guy #5, all of these bio-terrorist goons looked the same, was pointing a gun at her chest.

"Now, listen to me, bitch-"

"Woah, woah, woah. Hold up." Natasha stepped towards him. "As a society, aren't we way past calling women we don't like bitches?"

Taken aback, Blondie took a half step back.

Peter smiled underneath his mask, watching Nat psychologically dismantle an asshole was always fun.

"Underoos!" Tony's voice crackled over the coms. "If you're done drooling over Black Widow, I could use a hand over here!"

"Have fun." Peter laughed before swinging away to wherever Tony needed him.

"Listen, bi-lady-"

"Much better." Natasha smiled menacingly. "If you're going to threaten me, at least be respectful about it." She took another step towards him. She was almost within striking distance.

"You're all fucked! No one can stop what's coming!" He yelled wildly.

Oh God, another one of those. Natasha sighed. She took another tiny step forward. Blondie didn't move. He was distracted, good.

"What exactly is coming?"

"Revela-"

"Actually, I forgot that I don't care. I'm just going to kick your ass now, mkay?" Natasha interrupted again, smiling.

Blondie looked confused for a moment before Natasha's fist collided with his jaw. He went down like a ton of bricks and didn't get back up.

"Bitch." Natasha smirked, field stripping Blondie's gun, pocketing the ammo, and taking his backpack. Once these guys were no longer packing potentially lethal biotech, the local PD was more than capable of handling things.

"Did you boys leave any fun for me?" She asked, pressing the earpiece further into her ear.

"Sorry, Widow." Bruce's voice came over the coms. "We're just wrapping things up about a block away from you're location."

"My guy wasn't even that fun, just called me a bitch and went down with one punch." Natasha huffed as she found the green dot on her communicator and started walking towards it.

"Aww, there's always one dud." Tony said sympathetically, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Clint would have left one for me." Thinking about her best friend still made her sad. She understood why he'd gone back into retirement, but it felt like she was always missing something, someone. "You guys are getting greedy." She laughed, a twinge of pain sparking to life in her wounded arm. "I'm on my way to your location now."

"I already put a call in to the PD, so we should be good to go when you get here." Cap said, reading Natasha's mind.

"Agh!" Natasha hissed and grabbed her injured arm, a sharp, shooting pain momentarily stopping her in her tracks. Well, adrenaline was a hell of a drug, she thought, until it wore off.

"Nat? Did you get hit?" Bruce's asked over the coms as Natasha rounded the corner.

"It was my arm or Parker's head." She explained, joining the group of men.

Peter, who had pulled up his mask, blushed. "Thanks."

Natasha nodded towards him and smiled.

"Is it-"

"Through and through. Can't even-" Natasha cringed in pain and grit her teeth. "Gah!"

"We can get you patched up back at the jet. You good?" Bruce asked, surveying Natasha with those perpetually sad eyes that she adored.

"PD is here. That's our cue to not be here." Tony said, putting down the face plate of his suit.

The team made their way to the jet.

On the ride back to the compound, Bruce examined Natasha's arm. She was right, through and through. Bruce cleaned the wound thoroughly, letting Natasha grip his leg as the antiseptic burned, and put a sterile wrap on it. He'd offered pain meds, but-- in true Nat fashion--Natasha'd refused.

When they arrived back to the compound, everyone went their separate ways. Peter headed back to the city, still needing to get in nightly patrol and homework; Tony went to his workshop, mumbling something about tuneups; Steve went to his room to take his nightly Skype call with Bucky, and Bruce went to the lab to run tests on the tech they'd taken from the goons today. Nat, ignoring any and all medical advice from Bruce, changed into her workout clothes and went to the gym.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Natasha panted and wiped away a trickle of sweat, getting the bandage on her arm wet. Bruce wouldn't be very happy, she mused, dodging as the sparring bot swung it's spear towards her.

She ducked and swept her foot under a bot, knocking it on it's back. Going in for the kill, Natasha pushed herself up, or at least she tried. Her left arm gave out under the weight.

"Agh!" Natasha yelled out of both frustration and pain.

The bot, seeing an opening, righted itself and swung it's holographic spear at Natasha's head. She deflected with her own spear. She absently wondered why Tony had gone for spears instead of something they might encounter in the real world, like guns.

Natasha leveraged herself against the bot's spear and sent it flying over her head. Having learned her lesson, she pushed herself up with her right hand.

Going in for the kill, Natasha bounded over to the bot and was about to finish the simulation when the it used the butt of the spear to push her feet out from under her.

"Ahh!" Natasha cried, landing on her bad arm.

She tried to get up, but pain made her hazy.

Natasha looked up just in time to watch the bot thrust his spear into her chest, making her feel like someone had splashed ice water onto her chest.

"Simulation Failed." Friday's voice announced.

"Thanks Friday." Natasha grunted, pushing herself into a sitting position.

"Would you like to review the simulation and receive feedback?" Friday asked.

"No thanks." Natasha huffed, she'd already lived through getting her ass kicked once, she didn't need to watch it in slow motion.

"Would you like to run the simulation again? Perhaps at a lower level this time?" Friday asked almost sounding smug.

Sometimes, Natasha thought that Tony may have made the AI a little too human.

"No." Natasha rolled her eyes and stood up. Her arm throbbed. Looking down at the bandage, she saw that blood was starting to seep through. "Fuck me." She huffed. Bruce was definitely not going to be happy about that.

Leaving the gym, Natasha walked to the med bay to find some more gauze. Her arm felt oddly numb, but prickled as pins and needles ran up and down through the nerves. She tried to think if getting shot had always felt like this.

Opening the door to the med bay, Natasha was surprised to see Tony bandaging his hand clumsily.

"What happened to you?"

"Sliced my hand on an unfinished piece of my new suit." Tony explained.

"New suit?" Natasha asked, stepping forward and taking the wrap out of Tony's hand. He was going to cut off the circulation if he wrapped it that tightly.

Tony huffed, but didn't argue.

"Just a little upgrade on my design from a few years back. What brings you to this neck of the woods?"

"Went a little too hard at the gym." Natasha showed Tony her bloody bandage.

"Should you be going to the gym at all right now?" He asked.

Natasha pursed her lips.

"Nevermind." Tony put his good hand up in surrender.

"All done." Natasha tucked in the loose end of the bandage.

"Need any help?" Tony gestured towards Natasha's arm.

"Thanks, but I'm good."

Nodding, Tony walked to the door. He turned around at the last minute.

"Hey, Nat?"

"Hmm?" Natasha asked, unwrapping the bandage on her arm.

"I know I don't have to say it, but thanks, you know, for today. For the kid." Tony tapped a beat on the door frame.

"You're right, you don't have to say it, but you're welcome." Natasha smiled. "You know, I wasn't sure about a fifteen year old superhero at first, but I gotta say, the kid's grown on me."

"Is Natasha Rominoff admitting that she has a heart?" Tony gushed, putting his hand over the arc reactor.

"Fuck off." Natasha flicked up her middle finger, laughing.

Tony let the door close behind him. Natasha could hear him laughing all the way down the hall.

She finished removing the bandage and got a good look at what was underneath for the first time. The perimeter was tinged an angry red, but Natasha thought she could see something else in the gore. Bits of black? Probably just dried blood, she thought. Unable to get a good vantage point, Natasha gave up. She cleaned the wound once again and wrapped it in a fresh bandage.

Tired from the events of the day, Natasha went to her room and got into bed.

She tossed and turned for what felt like hours, but her arm ached and the pins and needles had given had made her fingers go numb. Finally giving in, Natasha took two ibuprofen that someone, Bruce no doubt, had left on her bedside table. Eventually, she fell into a fitful sleep.

Natasha woke up feeling not even slightly rested. She wasn't sure she'd even managed a full hour of sleep at a time last night for the pain in her arm.

"Ugh" Natasha groaned, stretching. She flexed her bicep, testing the pain. It still hurt, a lot, but at least the pins and needles were gone. She got up and padded to the kitchen for coffee.

"Morning." Bruce greeted.

"Morning." Natasha yawned.

"How're you feeling?" He asked, giving her a quick once over.

"Arm hurts. Didn't sleep. Just peachy." She said sarcastically.

"Ah. Coffee?"

"Definitely."

Bruce poured a mug of coffee and handed it to Natasha. Instinctively, she reached for it with her left hand.

She grabbed for the cup, but it slipped through her fingers.

"Ahh!" Natasha and Bruce yelled in surprise, jumping out the way to avoid the hot coffee.

"You okay?" Bruce asked, eying her skeptically.

"Yeah." Natasha answered, wondering the same thing herself. "Guess I just lost my grip." Natasha shrugged, watching as a roomba sweeps by and rolls over the mess, somehow clearing away even the chipped coffee cup.

"Okay. Have you been having any other trouble with your arm?"

Natasha almost tells Bruce about the pins and needles and the black specks, but then she doesn't. She's not really sure why she wants to keep this from her friend, but she did.

"Nope."

"If you were, would you tell me?"

"Bruce, why would I lie to you?"

Bruce shrugged.

"I'm fine. This is just your run of the mill bullet wound. I'll be good as new in a few weeks." Natasha promised.

"More coffee?" Bruce asked after a beat of silence.

"Yes, please." Natasha almost begs, this time making sure to reach for the cup with her right hand.

After coffee with Bruce, Natasha goes back to her room to shower and get dressed for the day.

Turning on the shower, Natasha sits down on the wide porcelain bench. The steam and warmth feel so nice that she doesn't even realize she's leaning back. She absently puts her left arm behind her to support her weight. Natasha's arm screams under the pressure and her elbow buckles, sending her flailing backwards and making her land on her bad arm.

"Ow!" She cried, tears clouding the corners of her vision, grabbing her arm. It was numb.

Natasha, suddenly equal parts curious and worried, put her hand on her shoulder. Pins and needles, but she could feel it. She slowly moved down the rest of her arm, poking and pushing. Her arm was numb from the shoulder down, even down to her fingers. No. Natasha thought, rubbing her arm trying to get any sensory reaction. It hadn't just gone numb, there was no sensation at all.

Her shower forgotten, Natasha quickly got out and dried off before going to find Bruce.

"Nat?" Bruce asked as Natasha burst through the door of the lab.

"Something's wrong." She said.

"Okay, wai-why-what-hmm?" Bruce stammered. "What's wrong?" He tried again.

"I can't feel my arm." Natasha said matter of factly.

"A little numbness can be normal with wounds like this." Bruce explained.

"Bruce, do you know how many times I've been shot?"

"No."

"Neither do I, but I've gotten shot enough times to know that this isn't normal. Bruce, It's not just numb, I can't feel any sensation at all."

Bruce looked at his friend and saw something almost like fear in her eyes, which was surprising. The only time he'd ever seen Natasha Romanoff afraid was when one of her teammates was in mortal danger.

"Okay." Bruce puts a hand on her shoulder. "We'll figure this out."

Bruce got to work taking blood samples, a sputum sample, and even a urine sample. He wanted to cover all his bases, because whatever this was, it scared Natasha, and that scared Bruce.

"Okay, all done." Bruce smiled, taking the tourniquet off of Natasha's arm. "I'll take these and run some tests. Hopefully that tells us if there's a chemical reason for the numbness. I'd also like to get you an EMG just to rule out any nerve damage we may have missed yesterday." He retrieved the machine from the shelf of equipment he rarely had use for.

"Okay."

Bruce strapped the machine to Natasha's arm, turned it on, and waited, and waited, and waited. There was no response.

"Do you feel anything?"

"No. Should I?"

"No prickling or pins and needles?"

"No."

"Natasha, can you raise your arms for me?" Bruce asked, really confused now. He demonstrated holding them straight out in front of himself.

Natasha raised her arms like Bruce showed her, or at least she tried. Her left arm wasn't moving at all. Her right arm appeared to be just fine, but she was starting to feel pins and needles in her neck and upper shoulder.

"I-I can't." She strained to move her left arm.

Bruce watched Natasha struggle, and after a moment of holding steady, he watched as her right arm slowly fell to her side.

"Nat?" He asked.

She was distracted, watching her right arm slowly be pulled down.

"This isn't normal, Bruce."

"No, no it isn't. We're gonna figure this out though." Bruce took her hand in his and held her to his chest.

Natasha normally wouldn't have let herself be held like this, but with Bruce, she felt good, she felt safe.

"I, uh, won't make you wear a gown or anything, but I think I'd feel better if you stayed in the med bay, so I can monitor you." Bruce pulled back and looked at her.

"Why not just keep me in my room?"

"Not that I think it will, but just in case anything happens, it would be better to have you there."

Natasha sighed, but agreed.

She and Bruce went to the med bay together. He made quick work of hooking her up to various machines and Natasha tried not to think about the tingling working it's way across her chest and into her right bicep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Natasha had always hated being still for too long. It made her antsy. Since she no longer had external stimulus, Bruce had gone back to the lab to start testing the samples he'd taken, she looked for external stimulus. Quickly giving up on sitting in the hospital bed, she got up and, careful not to pull on any of her various attachments, walked around.

"Nat? What are you doing?" Bruce laughed, coming back into the bay to see Natasha running in place.

"Couldn't sit still." she explained, a little breathless.

"Please get back in bed." Bruce pulled the blanket back.

Natasha huffed, but conceded.

Bruce looked at the heart rate monitor, that couldn't be right. The monitor had been hovering just around 58 BPM with an O2 reading of 98% when he'd left. Now, it was blinking yellow and flashing 210 BPM.

"Nat, how long were you running?" He put two fingers on her wrist, hoping the machine was somehow wrong.

"On and off for maybe ten minutes. These machines are weighing me down. Why?" She laughed.

"Your resting pulse is usually around 50-60 BPM. Right now, you're pulse is at 210 BPM and your O2 is at 89%. There's no reason that your heart rate should be that high and your O2 should be getting so low, especially after jogging for ten minutes." Sure enough, Natasha's pulse pounded at an alarming rate in her wrist.

"What does that mean?" She sucked in a slow breath. Was it getting harder to breathe?

"I don't know." Bruce said honestly. "I'll be right."

Going to the supply closet again, Bruce pulled out a nasal cannula and went back to Natasha.

"Here." He attached one end to the wall and then helped Natasha pull the cord over her head and put the nubbins in her nose before turning on the flow.

"Well, that's incredibly annoying." Natasha said, feeling like she'd stuck her face out of a moving car and air was being forced up her nose.

"It's working, though." Bruce pointed to the monitor, which now read O2 92% HR 205.

"What's a girl gotta do to get a glass of water around here? My mouth is like the Sahara right now." Natasha said, her voice still breathy.

"Ask, and you shall receive." Bruce smiled and went to find a cup.

"Here." Bruce held up the cup triumphantly. He stopped next to Natasha's bed and held it out to her. She was leaning back against the pillows.

Natasha tried to put her right arm out to grab the cup, but only succeeded in lifting it about six inches before it flopped back onto her lap.

"What the-"

Bruce took Natasha's arm in his hand. Starting with the bicep, he squeezed. It wouldn't be enough to be especially painful, but it should get a sensory reaction.

"Nat, can you feel this?" Bruce moved his hand down her arm.

"No. There're pins and needles in my fingers, but that's i-it." She looked up at him, unsure.

"What the hell?" Bruce muttered. "Can you move your arms at all?"

"N-n-no." Natasha struggled to say, her tongue felt too thick in her mouth.

"Natasha, can you sit up?" He was getting worried now.

"Nun-n-no-no." Natasha strained, trying to pull her body into a sitting position.

"Natasha, smile."

Natasha smiled, but the left side of her face drooped noticeably.

He looked at the monitor, hoping to shed light on why Natasha was apparently suddenly paralyzed from the neck down.

"This doesn't make any sense." He said, pulling the blanket off of her legs.

Pinching her toes, Bruce looked for a sensory response. Her foot twitched. Good.

"Does that hurt?"

"P-pins 'nd needles." Natasha slurred.

Bruce grabbed another pillow from the next bed over and put it under Natasha's head. If she was, in fact, paralyzed, he didn't want her choking on her own saliva or swallowing her tongue.

"I'll be right back." Bruce promised, walking quickly to the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bruce pulled out his phone and found Dr. Cho's number.

Ring. Ring. Ring. Click. "Hello?"

"Dr. Cho!" Bruce exclaimed. "It's Bruce. Bruce Banner."

"Oh! Hello, Bruce! To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"It's Natasha. Something's wrong. She has all of the symptoms of descending paralysis, but I can't think of anything that would progress this quickly. Can you come take a look?"

"Absolutely. I'm in Midtown at a Bio Sciences Symposium. I can be there within the hour." Helen said, texting her driver.

"Thank you, Dr. Cho."

"Bruce, it's just Helen." Helen laughed.

"Thank you, Helen."

"You're welcome." She smiled and hung up the phone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bruce walked back into the med bay, expecting the worst to have happened in the two minutes since he'd been gone.

Natasha was fine though, that is, she was no worse than when Bruce had left her.

"Nat," Bruce said, sitting down beside her. He needed to explain what was happening. "I've called Dr. Cho to come have a look at you. I'm not sure why or how, but your body is becoming parallelized from the neck down."

Natasha fixed him with a look that said No shit, Sherlock, and then actually said "N-no shit Sherl-l-ck." Slurring noticeably and working hard to make her mouth form the words.

"Fuck you, Watson." Bruce laughed gently.

Natasha laughed too, then she couldn't breathe. She was choking. She coughed violently, trying to clear her airway.

Bruce's eyes bug momentarily and he hastily pulls Natasha into a sitting position, trying to help her breathe.

After a moment, the coughing stops and Natasha can breathe again.

Bruce looks at the monitor and sighs. HR 215 O2 86%. He watched carefully, praying that her oxygen would come back up. Slowly, it climbed to 90% and plateaued. Her heart rate went down to 206, which was still really not good for a resting heart rate, but was less likely to send Natasha into a stroke.

They sat in silence for a minute, the coughing seeming to have taken a lot of energy from Natasha. Bruce took her limp hand in his, praying for any movement at all. Still nothing.

Bruce and Natasha sat in tense silence until Dr. Cho got there. When she did, Natasha and Bruce were both surprised to see Steve Rogers trailing behind her like a lost puppy, worry etched into his features. That was when Bruce realized he hadn't told any of his teammates about Nat's condition.

After filling Dr. Cho and Steve in on everything that had happened since that morning, Bruce left to go find Tony.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bruce jogged into Tony's workshop, where AC/DC was predictably blaring over the speakers.

"Tony!" Bruce yelled. Tony was on his back, under one of his many machines. He didn't move.

"Friday, can you-"

"Sure thing." Friday said pleasantly. The music cut off abruptly.

"Tony!" Bruce tried again.

"Wha-what?" Tony yelled in surprised, hitting his head on a piece of metal framing. "Fuck! What is it, Bruce?" He rubbed his forehead.

"It's Nat. Something's wrong."

That got Tony's attention.

"What?" Tony got up and walked towards Bruce, still rubbing his head.

"I don't know, exactly. She was fine last night, but since about," Bruce checked his watch, 11 o'clock, "9 o'clock this morning, she's been slowly losing upper motor capabilities. Now, she's starting to have numbness and tingling in her feet and legs."

"Oh my God."

"I know. I took blood, saliva, and urine samples. I'm running them in the lab right now; hopefully, that gives us a little more to go off. I called Dr. Cho. She's with her now."

"What can I do?" Tony asked.

"Use that big brain of yours to help me find a logical reason for all of this." Bruce plead.

"Lab?"

"Lab."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tony and Bruce raced to the lab.

Unluckily, none of the samples were up yet.

"Okay, let's think. Could this be nerve related?" Tony asked, pulling out the whiteboard.

"Possibly, but if it was just nerve related, wouldn't it be localized to her left arm?"

"True." Tony huffed. He made two columns on the board, COULD BE and COULD NOT BE. He added nerve damage to the COULD NOT BE side.

"Stroke?" Bruce shot out.

"Wouldn't have progressed to the entire body." Tony added to the COULD NOT BE side once again.

"Polio?" Tony asked.

"There hasn't been a case of polio in more than 30 years. Plus, there's no fever."

Tony added to the COULD NOT BE side again.

Both men were quiet for a moment, thinking.

"Botulism?" They said at the same time.

"Maybe."

Tony added the illness to the COULD BE side of the board.

"What if-no. That's ascending paralysis." Bruce said, thinking out loud.

Bruce took the marker from Tony and scrawled the list of symptoms in the lower corner.

Descending Paralysis Rapid HR Low O2

There had to be something he was missing. None of the symptoms made since together. It was like trying to start a puzzle from the center, he couldn't figure out where the beginning was.

"Dr. Banner, Boss, Dr. Cho is asking for you in the med bay." Friday announced.

"Thanks, Fri." Tony called to the AI.

"No problem, Boss."

Tony and Bruce went to the med bay, leaving their list behind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Natasha watched Tony and Bruce barrel into the room. She tried to smile at them, but the result was just the corner of her mouth twitching slightly.

"Woah Nat, if you wanted a vacation, all you had to do was ask." Tony joked, his crude humor coming out to mask the worry he felt for his friend lying limp in a hospital bed.

Nevertheless, the joke did succeed in lightening the mood slightly. Natasha made a noise in the back of her throat that was meant to be laughter.

"What's the diagnosis, Doc?" Tony asked.

"How could something like this happen so quickly?" Steve asked from behind Tony.

Tony jumped, he hadn't seen Steve when they walked in.

"Jesus, Rogers! Warn a guy!"

Bruce snickered as Natasha rolled her eyes.

"Well, I'm afraid I don't have many answers for you." Helen said, discouraged. "Rapid heart rate, low O2, and paralysis don't point in any definitive direction."

"There has to be something we're missing." Tony said.

"I'd have to agree with you, Tony." Helen said.

"There's nothing else, though." Bruce huffed, feeling like hitting his head against a brick wall might give way to more progress.

"Nat! Oh my God!" Steve yelled, just before the O2 alarm began blaring, closely followed by the heart monitor.

Helen, Tony, and Bruce turned to see Natasha turning first red, then white.

"She isn't breathing!" Bruce yelled.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Natasha was getting more confused by the minute. Besides not being able to move of her own accord, she felt fine. Her arm didn't even hurt anymore, she thought. Well, she corrected herself, paralysis has that effect on people.

She took another slow, deep breath as Helen explained her condition to her friends.

"I'm afraid I don't have many answers for you." Helen sounded crestfallen.

Another slow, deep breath. Natasha tried to get her heart rate down, a constant heart rate about 200 was making her jittery and a little nauseous.

"Rapid heart rate...paralysis....definitive direction." Helen said, but Natasha couldn't focus on her words. Her hearing was going in and out, like a bad TV connection. It was getting hard to breathe.

"With you, Tony." Helen's voice sounded far away.

Another slow, deep breat-

She couldn't breathe. Natasha couldn't breathe. She wanted to scream that she couldn't breathe, but she could just watch her friend's backs in horror.

Finally, right before her brain blinked out, she managed to make eye contact with Steve.

"Oh my Go-"

Then there was nothing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For a moment, the only sounds in the room were the alarms blaring.

Then everyone was moving.

"I don't have a pulse." Helen felt a point on Natasha's kneck, taking charge. She pushed a button on the bed to make it lay flat, climbed onto the bed and knelt over Natasha, starting compressions.

"Bruce! Get me epi and a crash cart!" She yelled.

Bruce, going into doctor mode, wheeled around and ran for the medical supplies.

Tony and Steve just stood there, unsure of what to do. Awkwardly moving beside the bed.

"You two, either move out of the way or leave the room! I need space to save your friend!" She said, never taking her eyes off of Natasha.

Steve, seeing Tony wasn't going to do either of those things, pulled him back to the corner of the room. Tony surprised himself by letting himself be pulled back.

They watched Helen and Bruce work, yelling numbers and medical jargon at each other.

"I have a pulse!" Helen jumped down from the bed. "It's weak, but it's there. Bruce, pads." She commanded.

Tony and Steve watched as Bruce cut open Nat's shirt to expose her chest and placed two orange pads.

"Clear" Bruce called. He and Helen both backing up about a foot.

A shock ran through Natasha's body, her back arching off of the bed slightly.

A spike popped up on the heart monitor.

"Push one mil of epi and go again." Helen commanded.

Bruce pulled out a syringe and pushed the needle into Natasha's chest, just above her heart.

"Clear" Helen called. She and Bruce once again stepped back as electricity coursed through Natasha's limp body.

The alarms stopped, replaced by a gentle beeping.

"Heart rate and O2 are coming up." Bruce said, breathing a sigh of relief.

"Do you have a ventilator on hand?" Helen asked, still breathing hard and sweating from compressions.

"Yes." Bruce turned around wordlessly.

"Cho. What the hell just happened?" Tony asked.

"The heart can only stand beating at that sort of bpm for so long. The fast heart rate wasn't allowing enough oxygenated blood to return to her brain. She had a stroke."

"Is she-" Steve cut himself off.

"Unfortunately, we won't know anything until she wakes up."

If, she wakes up. Steve thought grimly.

"Right now, we need to take as much stress off of her heart as possible. She may be young and healthy, but I don't think anyone could handle that type or cardiac event twice in such a short time frame. The best thing to do right now is to sedate her and put her into a medically induced coma. That way, her body has time to rest. Hopefully, the coma will also give us more time to figure out why this all happened in the first place." Helen explained.

Bruce came back with the ventilator and Dr. Cho made Steve and Tony leave.

Tony could have sworn he heard Helen say something about Nat's heart rate going through the roof again. He felt nauseous.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Helen and Bruce had everything set up, they met Steve and Tony out in the hallway. Tony thought Bruce looked ready to curl up in the fetal position and cry. He could relate.

"Any ideas on what this could be?" Tony asked. "I'm opening the floor to discussion here, science nerds and art nerds alike." He sighed, rubbing his eyes.

Normally, Steve would have shot back at Tony for calling him an art nerd, but now wasn't the time.

"Okay, what do we know so far?" Steve asked.

"High heart rate, paralysis, low oxygen. None of those things fit together under one specific diagnosis." Bruce said, starting to feel helpless.

"Is there anything that you all haven't told me yet? Anything at all that you might have overlooked or forgotten?" Helen asked.

"She got shot on a mission yesterday." Bruce said slowly. "But I cleaned and dressed the wound myself." He stepped forward and pushed up the sleeve of Natasha's hospital gown. "Just a run of the mill bullet wound."

"Did you have to remove the bullet?" Helen inspected the wrapping.

"No. Through and through."

"Hmm" She hummed. "For the record, I don't think you did anything wrong, Bruce."

She began unwrapping the bandage around Natasha's arm.

When the last piece of the bandage fell away, everyone gasped. The area around the small bullet wound was swollen and had turned a deep, angry red color. Tony and Steve looked away, but Bruce went in for a closer look. There were little black specks in the wound.

"This looks like-but it couldn't-that would require so much work-how would that even work?" Bruce asked, once again having a conversation with himself.

"Bruce, bud, you wanna fill us in?" Steve asked gently.

"Oh" Bruce had forgotten he wasn't actually talking out loud. "This looks like, and correct me if I'm wrong, Helen, some cross between black nightshade poison and hemlock poison."

Helen took a closer look and Bruce, seeing that his friends needed further explanation, stepped back.

"Black nightshade and poison hemlock are both incredibly poisonous plants. The bullet that Nat got hit with yesterday must have either been coated with poison from the plants or the poison was inside the bullet and somehow discharged when the guy pulled the trigger." Bruce said.

"Even if we are looking at some sort of amalgamation of black nightshade and hemlock, there's still one thing I don't understand." Helen stepped back and looked at Bruce, Tony, and Steve. "Both of those plants contain incredibly potent and deadly toxins. How, and forgive me for being so crude, how is Natasha not dead yet?" Helen asked.

"I don't know." Bruce sighed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Peter bounded up the drive to the Avengers Compound. He had been working on a new web fluid formula and couldn't wait to show Tony and Bruce, and he'd perfected a move Cap had been teaching him.

He burst into the compound expecting to hear AC/DC or Metallica blaring from the workshop or to see Steve sitting by the window drawing, but the place looked deserted.

"Hello?" Peter called.

No answer.

The spidey sense was poking at the back of his mind. It didn't feel like the usual DANGER signs he usually got with his powers, but more like a feeling that he wasn't seeing something.

Peter looked around once again.

"Hello?"

"Pete?" Tony asked, suddenly right beside him.

"Holy shit!" Peter yelled.

"Pete, keep you're voice down."

Peter tried to calm his racing heart.

"Where is everybody?" He asked.

"There's something I need to tell you. Let's sit." Tony put his hand on Peter's shoulder and guided him toward the living room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"What do you mean you don't know how to fix her?" Peter shouted, jumping up from the couch.

"Kid, hey, cal-"

"Please don't tell me to calm down right now, Tony." Peter said dangerously. He ran his hands through his hair and started to pace.

"This is-this is all my fault." Peter said, tears threatening to spill over.

"Pete, this is not your fau-"

"Y-yes it i-is." Peter started to cry. "S-she pushed me out of the way yesterday. That should be me in there, not h-her!"

"Listen, I know you're not a baby, so I won't try to lie to you. Things don't look great right now for Nat, but Bruce, Dr. Cho, and I are all working on finding a cure for this thing." Tony paused, pulling Peter into a hug. "We could use that brain of yours, if you're up for it."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Clint Barton had gotten used to ominous or upsetting phone calls when he was actively working with SHIELD, he'd even made his fair share of them, but he never expected to get a call after he retired, especially that his best friend might be dying. He scarcely remembered the drive over, just a vague memory of telling Laura that Nat was sick and then he was gone.

Clint's car screeched to a stop outside the doors to the compound. He swung the door open and ran inside, looking around for anybody. Everyone was sitting in the living room, looking utterly defeated.

"I-is she-am I too late?" He whispered.

"Clint?" Steve looked surprised.

"Barton? What are you-who called you?" Tony asked.

"The kid." He said curtly, nodding towards Peter Parker.

"I jus-just thought he sh-should be here in case anything happens." Peter stammered, he wasn't going to cry again, he didn't think his body could produce anymore tears, but he'd kept having to excuse himself from the lab when they were all working. Natasha was-Peter tried to think of a good name for what Natasha was to him. He guessed she was basically a sharper Aunt May. In another time, Peter would have laughed at himself for thinking of Natasha as sharp.

"She's not dead, if that's what you're asking." Tony said gruffly.

"Fuck off, Tony." He replied, seriously not in the headspace to deal with Stark's bullshit.

"Clint, it's been a while. I wish we were having a happier reunion." Helen stepped forward.

"Hey, Helen. What can you tell me?"

"Yesterday on a mission, Natasha was shot. We think the bullet was somehow laced with toxins from the poisonous nightshade plant and poison hemlock. We're waiting on blood tests to confirm."

"Okay, if we know what's kil-hurting her, let's go find the antivenom or the pill or something!" Clint said, not meaning to sound as angry as he did. "You're all just sitting here."

"That's the trouble," Helen sighed.

"There is no cure." Bruce finished the sentence, he sounded absolutely miserable.

"Then let's make one!"

"Genius, can't believe we hadn't thought of that." Tony deadpanned.

"Seriously, Tony, fuck off!" Clint yelled.

"Both of you, calm down." Steve stood up and moved so he was between Clint and Tony. "This isn't doing anyone any good right now, especially not Nat."

Clint put his face in his hands, looking up when he felt someone sit beside him and put a hand on his shoulder, Bruce.

"If there's no cure, what do we do?" Clint asked hopelessly.

"Our only option is to make an antidote, but without know how much of each toxin was on the bullet, we can't know how to properly formulate the antidote." Bruce said.

There was a distant ping.

"The blood test results are up." Helen said, walking to the lab to get them.

"What did you say?" Peter asked, peeking from under his hoodie.

"Without knowing the ratios that the toxins were administered in, we can't know what ratios to use with the cure."

"I-I think I know how to find out." He said, suddenly very excited, getting up.

"Pete, buddy, you can't go to the prison. The guards won't let you in." Tony sighed, the kid just wanted to help, but he'd get himself killed in the process.

Peter wasn't listening though, he took off towards Natasha's room. He threw the door open and went to work. He quickly found what he was looking for, Nat's room was scary clean, and ran back to the living room.

"Who said anything about jail?" He grinned, holding up the cartridge of bullets Natasha had taken out of the guy's gun yesterday.

"What is that?" Dr. Cho asked.

"Our cure." He handed the bullets to Helen. "These are the same bullets as the one Nastasha got shot with."

"You're alright, kid." Clint clapped Peter on the shoulder.

"So I'm told." He grinned bashfully.

"Well, we won't do much good standing out here, let's get these to the lab!" Tony said, making a "get a move on" signal.

Everyone got up at once and headed for the lab, but stopped in their tracks when they heard alarms coming from the med bay.

Tony got there first, what he saw was enough to make his stomach turn. Steve came in right behind him. He gasped.

"Tony, don't-"

"Already on it." Tony gave him a knowing look.

He pushed against the small crowd to get back out into the hallway. He met Peter, who was bringing up the rear, and grabbed him by the shoulders just as he rounded the corner.

"Pete, you-you don't wanna go in there right now."

"Tony, I-I need to help Nat." He pushed against Tony.

"You don't want to see her like that. You don't want that memory." He held Peter firmly in place, the kid might have super strength, but he was still pretty small.

"They can handle things in there. Me and you, we can just stay out here." Tony tried to calm his voice.

"Tony, I have to-"

"No, Peter! I will not let you see that. You're going to willingly stay out her with me, or I will make you stay out here." Tony said angrily.

"I-fine." Peter sagged against Tony.

Tony lowered himself to the ground, taking Peter with him.

"God, I just feel so-so helpless!" Peter yelled, smacking his fist against the wall and leaving a nice dent.

"I know, kid, I know. Me too." Tony sighed.

A minute later, the alarms went off. Heavy silence seemed to fill every open space, like water.

No one came out of the med bay. No one called for Tony.

Tony's brain had just entered "worst case scenario" territory when Bruce, Steve, and Helen stepped out of the med bay doors.

"Where's Clint?" Peter asked.

"He asked for some time alone with Natasha." Helen explained.

"Doc?" Tony asked.

"If we're going to synthesize a cure, we need to do it now. I'm not sure-" She cut off, putting a hand to her mouth and closing her eyes. "I'm not sure how much time we have left."

"Tony, Bruce?" Steve looked down.

"Cap?"

"Let's go get this fucking cure."

Tony took a deep breath and stood up, pulling Peter with him.

"Let's go do the damn thing." He said firmly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Clint watched Steve, Bruce, and Helen walk out of the med bay. He took a deep breath and looked back at his friend lying in the bed. Natasha. Nat. His Nat.

For the first time that day, Clint cried.

Now, he wasn't usually one to cry. He'd just never been super emotional, or was it that he'd never been in touch with his emotions. Whatever it was, Clint could count on two hands the number of times he'd cried in the last fifteen years.

Clint thought he remembered something about how it was possible that coma patients could hear what was happening around them. It was probably bull shit, but Clint figured he had nothing to lose at this point. If Nat woke up, she could make fun of him all she wanted. If she wakes up. He thought, a shiver running down his back.

"Hey, Nat."

This felt stupid.

"I'm, um, it's been a while."

Nothing. Obviously.

"I was actually gonna call you today. Laura's havin another baby? Can you believe that? Four kids!" Clint laughed wetly.

Clint listened to the ventilator for a moment and watched as it pushed air into Nat's lungs.

"Maybe we get another girl this time." Clint sniffed. "You, Lila, and the baby. You'd be unstoppable."

"Nat, listen. You-you've gotta come out of this. Cure or no cure. You didn't survive everything you did to get taken out by a poison bullet. Hell, we didn't survive Thanos for you to get taken down by a stupid piece of lead. So yeah, you're gonna pull through. If you don't, I'll come to the afterlife and kick your ass myself." Clint said gruffly.

He took a deep breath.

"I can-I can't do this without you. You're my best friend, Nat. If there's a universe without you, I don't want to see it."

Then, sure the others were too far away to hear, Clint completely let himself break.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Pete, hand me that-yeah. Thanks." Tony said over his shoulder, taking the saline solution. Once they'd gotten to the lab, everyone, including Steve --handing things to people and providing moral support--had gotten right to work.

They'd figured out that there was a coating of poison on the outside of the bullet that only became lethal if brought into contact with biological material, namely, blood. Tony would have thought it was genius, if it wasn't the thing that was currently killing his friend.

Now, they just needed to figure out how to get the coating off of the bullet so that Bruce could reverse engineer the toxins and synthesize a cure.

So far, Tony had tried soaking the bullet in water and saline solution, no dice.

"Bruce? Talk to me. What are you seeing?"

"Well, we know it's bio material soluble, but I don't see how they got it to adhere to the bullet in the first place, let alone how we're supposed to get it off."

That was what Tony had suspected.

"Ahh!" Bruce yelled, pushing himself away from the work table. He stood up, looking a little more green than Tony liked to see. "I'll be back." He said, the Other Guy's voice slipping out under Bruce's.

Bruce had made friends with Hulk a long time ago, and now the big guy only came out when Bruce wanted him too. When he got stressed out though, it was almost like being back in the days when he couldn't control it. There was an easy fix though.

Bruce quickly walked out of the compound and jogged to a clearing across the road. Then, he let Hulk out.

Being Hulk wasn't as in and out as it used to be since Bruce had become friends with the Big Guy, but it still wasn't like he was in charge, not at times like this. When he got angry, when he "fed" Hulk anger, Bruce could strongly suggest that they not go on a rampage in the nearest town, and most of the time he'd listen. Thankfully, Hulk listened today. He felt bad for the Little Guy. He wasn't really good with emotions other than anger, but he knew that the Little Guy was sad.

After a moment, Bruce shrank back down to Bruce size once again. He grabbed a spare set of clothes in a plastic bag, he'd learned to become a planner, and headed back inside. He didn't feel any better, but he also didn't feel like he'd upend his work table.

"Did you change?" Steve asked.

"Had to let the Big Guy out for a minute." Bruce explained, sitting back down.

For a moment, everyone was quiet again.

Then, an idea hit Bruce square between the eyes. He couldn't believe he hadn't thought of this yet!"

"Oh my God!"

"What? What is it?" Everyone crowded around him.

"Lemon juice!"

"What are you-oh my God! Lemon juice!" Peter took off running.

"Lemon juice is lower on the Ph scale than blood, making it more acidic!"

"If it's more acidic than blood, that means that it can cut through the poison, which is more basic than blood!" Helen clapped.

"Bruce, Brucey, you absolute genius! I could kiss you!" Tony exclaimed as Peter ran back into the lab with a bottle of lemon juice from the fridge.

"What's going on in here?" Clint asked, his voice raw.

"Lemon juice!" Peter yelled.

"Okay then, Cap, I need some air. Care to join me?"

Steve, knowing Clint was probably struggling more than any of them right now, nodded.

"Let's take a walk." Steve suggested.

They walked away, leaving the scientists, a doctor, and a super human teenager to save their friend.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Steve and Clint walked outside. Steve took a deep breath.

"Hell of a reunion." He laughed.

"Yeah." Clint huffed.

"How's your family?"

"Good. Laura's pregnant. Four kids." Clint mused.

"That's amazing, Clint!" Steve clapped Clint on the back.

"I'm still wrapping my head around the thought of four kids. I think we'll finally have to sell out and get that mini van."

They laughed together, trying to push the heaviness of the day out of the conversation.

"What about you," Clint turned to Steve. "Any new lady friends?" Clint wiggled his eyebrows.

"Nah. I don't really think I'm what women are looking for when they say "old soul"."

They walked in silence for another moment.

"You know, I really thought that you might no come back when you were returning the Infinity Stones. Thought you might make a permanent pit stop in the 20s." Clint confessed.

"Honestly, I almost did. I did see Peggy, and everything in me was telling me to stay, but, knowing what I know now? I couldn't take that from her. If I had stayed, the first time, I'm sure things would have worked out differently, but I know how her life turned out, and it feels selfish on some level to take that away from her." Steve huffed as he finished talking, he hadn't ever really talked to anybody about choosing to come back the second time.

"That must have been really hard, man. I'm glad you came back, though." Who are the Avengers without Captain America?"

"Do you ever wonder, if you could go back and make a different choice, would you do it differently?" Steve asked, unable to tame him morbid curiosity.

"What do you mean?"

"Like, with you and Nat."

"I mean, sure. I've thought about if I had never met Laura or if I'd told Nat what I felt." Clint thought for a moment. "The truth is though, Natasha and I never would have worked as anything other than friends. We're both damaged in too many of the same ways."

"Isn't that the point of everything? Finding someone who can understand your scars?" Steve asked.

"I think it's more important that you're good in the same ways. Like Laura. She's everything good about me."

"Huh"

"Look at me, givin life advice to a 100 year old man."

"Hey, technically I'm only 30." Steve defended, punching Clint in the arm.

They walked along in silence for another moment. Clint faltered as the national anthem played.

Steve rolled his eyes. "Tony constantly changes my ringtone! I'm gonna-" Everything came to the forefront of his mind in a flash. He couldn't believe he'd actually managed to distract himself. He hoped he'd done the same for Clint.

"Tony?"

Steve hung up the phone with a stoic expression.

"We need to get back to the compound. Now."

The two men took off running.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Her organs have begun to shut down." Helen confirmed, completing her checkup.

"What does that mean?" Clint asked.

He half expected Tony to make a quip, but even he wouldn't be so cruel right now.

The poison has eaten through the muscular barrier and is in her blood stream. It will likely take the kidneys first, then the liver, the lungs, and finally the heart."

"You said you were making a cure!" Clint yelled, making Dr. Cho jump.

"These things take time, Clint. I will continue to monitor her condition and offer supportive care, but it may be time to call anyone she'd want to have here."

"Sh-she doesn't have anybody else! We're it! The people in this room, th-this t-t-team! We're all she has!" Clint yelled, sobbing now.

"Clint" Tony put a hand on his shoulder.

Clint shook, but didn't turn around.

"Clint, come on, buddy."

"She never got to do anything else! This is all she ever knew!" Clint cried, letting Tony pull him into a hug.

He'd never hugged Tony Stark before, Clint'd realize later. Tony was warm, and oddly soft. He smelled like Polo cologne and bourbon, no surprise there.

Tony let go of Clint and lead him out of the room. Steve followed quietly.

Peter, Dr. Cho, and Bruce quietly continued working on the cure.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At some point, Peter wasn't sure what time it was, the only thing that mattered was finishing the cure, he heard a doorbell.

The fact that there was apparently a doorbell was outweighed by the fact that someone had somehow found their way out to the compound.

The door opened. Voices.

Peter kept working.

A while later, the doorbell rang again. The door opened. More voices.

Peter felt like he should be tired at this point, he had surely been awake more that 24 hours, but he felt alert and focused.

Doorbell. Voices. Work. That was all Peter knew.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You're sure this will work?" Peter asked.

"Honestly, it's all we've got." Bruce said, putting the chemicals into the synthesizer.

It was just them now. Tony, Steve, and Clint hadn't come back after Clint's outburst, which was understandable, and Dr. Cho had gotten called out on urgent shield business. She'd promised to come back as soon as she was done.

"Now, we wait." Bruce turned on the machine, praying that he and Peter had done everything right.

Together, they walked out of the lab, both in desperate need of food and sleep.

However, Bruce nearly screamed when he walked into the living room. There were four times as many people as he remembered. Most of them seemed to be asleep, but on closer inspection, they were his friends.

Everybody was here. T'challa, Bucky, Sam, Carol, Bruce'd though she was still off world.

"Banner?" a familiar voice boomed softly.

"Thor?" Bruce turned to see the God of Thunder, who apparently still had a beer gut. They embraced.

"How is Lady Natasha?" Thor asked, guiding Bruce to the kitchen.

Remembering his lab partner, Bruce looked around to find Peter smushed in between Carol and Okoye, already fast asleep. Bruce made a mental note to call May.

"She's uh, she's not good, buddy." He said, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

"You have an antidote? Correct?"

"Yeah, but it's not that easy, Thor. We had a sample of the toxin that's poisoning her, but I'm still not certain this particular antidote will even touch the damage that's already been done." Bruce sat down in a kitchen chair, accepting a cup of something from Thor. He wiped at his eyes, he hadn't even realized he was crying. He took a sip of what Thor had given him, tea.

"Lady Natasha is the strongest warrior I've met. Surely, she can best this toxin." Thor affirmed, pronouncing it like toxon instead of toxin.

"Will you not sleep like our Spider friend?" He nodded his head to the other room.

I don't even think I could sleep if I wanted too. When did you get here?" Bruce asked, desperate to change the subject.

"I arrived just after, ah I've traveled so much that I forget the earth word. Nogimslom, no. Slosjek, not quite. Ah! Midnight!" He said finally, looking pleased with himself.

"You're a traveler now?" Bruce yawned. He was suddenly exhausted.

"Yes! Since giving over the throne to Valkyrie, I've been working my way through each of the nine realms. I'm saving Earth for last, though. I wonder if I might settle here."

"Couldn't you still live in Asgard?"

"Oh, yes, but that place, even though the ground it stands on is new, holds too many ghosts for me." Thor looked sad for a moment.

"Wha-" Bruce yawned. "What time is it, Thor."

Thor once again searched his brain for the right word.

"Just after 4 a.m. I believe."

Thor's voice sounded funny now, like it was wavering.

"Th-Thor?" Bruce slurred, looking down at the cup of tea. It tasted different. "Did y-you drug me?" Bruce asked right before his eyes closed. Thor caught his head, lowering it to the table gently.

"My apologies, Tiny Banner, but Stark said this was the only way you would take to sleep." He took a deep breath, taking in his friend's tired face. He looked spent, even in sleep. Thor picked up Bruce and carried him to his bedroom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Peter woke up feeling warm. He opened his eyes slowly and just about jumped out of his skin. Groot the Tree was two inches from his nose.

"Dude! Personal space!"

"I am Groot!"

"Yeah, yeah."

Peter looked around, all of his friends were still there, most of them just waking up; yesterday hadn't been a dream then. Peter sighed, rubbed his face, and had a minor cardiac event when he remembered that A) it was Thursday and he should be in, he checked the clock, third period right now and B) He had forgotten to call May last night. He wasn't sure which realization was worse.

"Oh, crap." Peter sat forward, putting his head in his hands.

"Parker?" Someone said.

Peter looked up to see Carol looking back at him.

"Tony said I should tell you that he called May for you. She covered for you at school." Carol raised her coffee cup.

"Oh thank God."

"Yes?" Thor poked his head into the room.

"Now that's just pretentious." Sam quipped.

"What are you guys doing here?" Peter looked around.

"Clint sent out an urgent message, said Nat was sick and we should come home." Rhodey explained.

"Morning, kid." Tony greeted, handing Peter a cup of coffee. "Normally, I'm against caffeinating hyperactive, super human teens, but I think I can make an exception today."

Peter looked into the cup, milky brown, just the way he liked it.

"Has the synthesizer, uh, synthesized yet?" Peter asked.

"Not yet. I'm guessing about 3 or 4 more hours."

Peter groaned.

"I know, kid. I know."

"Is she still holding stable?" Bucky asked, coming up seemingly out of nowhere, trailed closely by Steve.

"Stable, as in, not any worse? Yes."

"Tell me there's something we can do? I'll literally go insane if I have to sit here and wait all day." Peter whined.

"You wanna help me in the shop?" Tony cocked an eyebrow.

"Always!" Peter smiled, remembering the fluid formula from yesterday. "I actually had something to run past you, and Bruce, wherever he is!" Peter's voice trailed off as he and Tony went to the workshop.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bruce woke up with a start. It took his brain a moment to process where he was, and then it took it even longer to remember that the events of yesterday weren't some horrible dream.

He realized that he was in his bed, but without any memory of getting there. He was also still wearing his clothes from yesterday.

The conversation with Thor came back slowly. Oh, he had a big bone to pick with the God of Thunder.

After changing, Bruce walked downstairs into a gaggle of his friends. Still angry, Bruce tried to put the feeling aside and talk to his friends, many of whom who had just found out about Natasha.

Finally, he spotted Thor. Bruce stalked up to Thor and poked his chest.

"Hey! You drugged me!"

"Would you have slept, had I not?"

Bruce wanted to say yes, but knew the real answer, and he knew Thor knew the real answer, too.

"Whatever. Warn a guy next time." Bruce sighed.

"Would that not defeat the purpose?"

Bruce thought for a moment. "Uh, yeah. I guess it would." He laughed.

"Shall we breakfast, Banner?"

Bruce's stomach rolled at the thought of food, but he knew it had to have been at least 24 hours since he'd eaten.

"Definitely."

Bruce and Thor had just sat down to eat when Friday came over the intercom.

"Dr. Banner, Dr. Strange is asking for you in the med bay."

Bruce's blood ran cold as he took off for the med bay.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Bruce!" Stephen yelled as Bruce skidded through the door. "It's her kindneys. Uremia. It caused another seizure."

Bruce didn't even stop running as he grabbed a syringe of ativan from the med cart. He plunged it into her newly hung IV bag and pushed the plunger.

A moment later, the tremors stopped.

He looked Natasha up and down. She looked much the same as yesterday, but her skin had a yellow tinge to it, liver failure.

"Oh my God, that's two seizures and a stroke. How is she going to make it out of this?" Bruce tried to suck in a deep breath, but there was suddenly a ten pound weight on his chest. His breathes came in short, rapid gasps that made his throat sore. Everything was loud. His brain was too loud.

"Bruce!" Stephen stepped in front of him, holding his hands out like he was afraid that Bruce might fall over. "Listen, I think you're having a panic attack. Have you ever had one before?"

"Yes." Bruce wheezed.

"Then you know how to steady yourself. You know you can make it through this. Just look at me, try to copy my breathing." Stephen said softly, taking exaggerated slow breaths.

Bruce tried to do as Stephen said, but his brain was still too loud. The noise was drowning out every rational thought. It was just a constant buzzing in his head.

"Bruce, can I touch you?" Stephen asked.

Bruce nodded.

Stephen put his hands on Bruce's shoulders.

"We're going to breathe together, alright?"

Bruce nodded again. His breath was high pitched and wheezy now.

"In....and out....in....and out....in and......good job, Bruce." Stephen said gently, his voice sounding strange. Stephen Strange didn't usually do gentle. "Just keep doing that."

Bruce kept trying to breathe like Stephen showed him. Eventually, he wasn't hyperventilating anymore, although the uncomfortable weight was still on his chest and his stomach ached. He sank to the ground, Stephen squatting beside him.

"Th-that-that's not good. Another seizure is really bad." Bruce stammered.

"Do you want me to treat you like a doctor, or family?"

Bruce thought for a moment.

"D-doctor."

"Okay then. Natasha's organs are beginning to fail rapidly, due the toxin. Each seizure or stroke means less of a chance that she will be able to regain full brain function. She has a few hours, at best."

Bruce put his head in his hands. This couldn't be happening! She'd been fine 48 hours ago!

"The synthesizer has at least 3 hours left to go!"

"I think-" Stephen took a deep breath. "I think it's time to let everyone say their goodbyes."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Slowly, everyone in the house came and went from the med bay. The day became a memorial to Natasha Romanoff, spy, friend, hero.

As the heart monitor beeps got further apart, almost everyone was gathered around Natasha's bed. Everyone except Bruce.

Bruce sat in the lab, waiting for the synthesizer to finish the cure. If Natasha Romanoff was going to die, it wasn't going to be because he quit trying.

He was sure that someone would be sent to give him the news at any moment, but Bruce kept waiting and hoping.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Clint couldn't cry anymore. It wasn't that he wasn't sad, he was absolutely distraught, but he'd gone numb. His body was incapable of feeling any more grief.

He watched the spikes on the heart monitor get shorter and further apart. Looking around, he saw all of his friends, Nat's friends, no, her family. This was her family. Clint searched the room for a particular head of greying black hair, for possibly the only other person in the world that might understand and reciprocate his love for Natasha.

Where was Bruce?

He wasn't there. Natasha was dying and Bruce had apparently decided that he couldn't take it. Well, guess what, buddy? This wasn't one of those things he could just decide to not take.

Clint wheeled around and marched out of the room, his footsteps the only noise in the room besides the beeping of the monitors.

"Banner!" Clint yelled.

Bruce jumped, looking around.

"Is-is she-"

"Where do you get off thinking that you can't be in there with us, with her?"

"I-I-I'm waiting for th-the cure." Bruce stuttered.

"This is already hard enough, do you want to look back on this and say that you spent Natasha's last few hours in a lab? Or do you want to be able to say that you were right by her side? Come on, man!" Clint cried.

"I-I-I"

Then, three things   happened at once. 1) the synthesizer beeped, signaling the end of the mixing cycle, 2) a high pitched beeping started in the med bay, 3) Clint punched Bruce in the jaw.

Clint heard something crack under his fist.

No, it was his fist.

"Dammit!" Clint yelled, hugging his fist to his chest.

"Clint! What the fuck?" Bruce yelled, grabbing his jaw.

Both men groaned in pain for a moment.

They both seemed to hear the alarm at the same time.

"Oh God! Nat!" Clint said, horrified. He took off running.

Bruce started to follow, but somehow had enough presence of mind to grab the vial of liquid from the synthesizer.

Then, he ran after Clint.

Everyone was out in the hallway. Bruce pushed through the crowd roughly.

The alarm cut off abruptly just as Bruce skidded into the room.

Stephen, Tony, and Dr. Cho turned to see Bruce stumble to a stop. Clint stood behind them, over Natasha, but didn't turn around.

'Bruce-" Tony tried, he looked shell shocked.

"I-I got the-the cure." Bruce said breathlessly.

"Bruce, I'm so sor-"

"Don't-don't finish that sentence." Bruce said, an edge in his tone.

"Bruce, she's gone." Dr. Cho sighed, walking towards him.

"N-n-no. No! I-I-we got the cure! We got the cure!" Bruce yelled, running towards the hospital bed.

Tony and Stepen caught him, blocking his view.

"She's gone, buddy. She's gone." Tony sobbed.

"No! No!"

"Fuck, Bruce! Just-just stop!" Clint screamed, backing up and sinking into a squat against the wall. He buried his face in his hands, ugly sobs rocking his body.

"I-we-but-!" Bruce screamed. Finally, he sagged against Tony and Stephen.

"I never told her I love her." He whispered, sinking to the floor.

Through their legs, Bruce finally saw Natasha. She looked like she was sleeping.

"C-can-can I-" He cut off, a sob ripping through his chest.

"Yeah, buddy." Tony stepped to the side.

Stephen looked confused, but let it happen.

Bruce sat down on the bed, taking Natasha's hand in his. He put his hand on her wrist, praying that two doctors and a genius were somehow wrong. At first, he felt nothing, just cold skin. Then, he thought he might have finally lost it. There was a faint, slow pulse beating under his fingers.

"T-there's a-she's alive!" Bruce yelled, jumping back off of the bed.

"What?" Stephen said, he seemed to be the only one not in a state of total shell shock. He darted forward and put two fingers on Natasha's neck.

"He-he's right!" Stephen stood back in shock. "She has a pulse. It's weak, but it's there."

Clint looked up at his friends, trying to figure out if this was an incredibly cruel joke.

"Bruce!" Tony yelled.

Bruce turned to face Tony.

"If-if we-if she's got any kind of chance, she needs that cure!"

Bruce, feeling like he was having an out of body experience, bolted into action. He found an empty syringe in the medical supplies and pushed the air out of the tube. His hand shook violently, he thought he might break off the needle.

"M-my hands are shaking too much. Stephen, c-can you-" Bruce held the syringe and bottle of liquid out.

"Yes." Stephen nodded, taking the little bottle and syringe. He expertly drew the liquid up into the syringe. "Here we go." He took a deep breath, put the needle into Natasha's arm, and depressed the plunger.

For a moment, nothing happened. Looking back, Bruce thought it couldn't have been more than a minute, but just then, it felt like an eternity.

Everyone held their breath and watched as the first tiny, green spike displayed on the heart monitor.

Clint thought he might pass out, or scream, or cry. His body didn't seem to understand how to react. He stared at the spikes on the monitor.

"Is that-" Clint asked, standing up on shaky legs.

"Yeah. That-that's a heartbeat." Tony said, dumbfounded.

"She's alive." Bruce deadpanned.

"She's alive!" Clint screamed.

"What the fuck?!" Peter Parker yelled from the doorway.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Slowly, Natasha's vitals came back into the livable region and she was taken off of the ventilator. Now, the only thing left to do was to wait for her to wake up.

No one said it, but no one was certain that they'd be getting the same Natasha back.

Someone had eventually forced Tony, Clint, and Bruce to go sleep and get something to eat.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Clint woke up feeling groggy and sore, his stressed muscles having turned to stone in his sleep.

"Agh" He groaned, sitting up and stretching.

Someone knocked on the door.

"Come in."

Peter Parker flung the door open and simply stood in the doorway for a moment, looking either scared or constipated, Clint couldn't tell which.

"What? Is she-" Clint cut off, fearing the worst. His heart flung itself into his throat.

"She's, uh, Natasha. She's awake." He grinned.

She was awake. Natasha was awake!

Clint clambered out of bed and sprinted down the hall to the med bay.

Bursting through the door, he saw all of his friends, family, gathered around Natasha's bed.

The crowd parted. He saw Natasha's eyes. Clint couldn't stop the river of tears running down his face.

"Now, it's just like Budapest." She croaked, grinning.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Natasha hated almost dying. It had made her so weak. She could barely walk to the bathroom without almost passing out from the effort, let alone shower or, God forbid, go to the gym.

She'd been released to her room by Dr. Cho, on the condition that she not try to do anything strenuous by herself. She'd begrudgingly agreed. She'd thought that getting someone to help her would be the hard part, I mean, who wanted to watch her take a poop? No, apparently, the hard part was getting just one person to help her.

All of Natasha's friends became 100% invested in her recovery. They barely let her lift a finger without Dr's Cho, Strange, or Banner approving first.

Presently, she was in her bedroom with Clint, which was pretty much as close to being alone as she could get.

"Hey," Clint broke the comfortable silence between them, "Do you remember anything from being in the coma?"

"Some really weird dreams, maybe. Why?"

"So you don't remember me telling you that Laura's pregnant and we're asking you to be the Godmother?" Clint smirked impishly.

"No!" Natasha pulled a pillow from behind her and smacked Clint in the head. "I don't remember that! Way to bury the lead!"

Clint laughed.

"Wow!" Natasha mused, whistling. "Four kids? You'll have to get a mini van." She smiled.

"Don't remind me." Clint groaned, leaning his head against the head of the bed.

Comfortable silence consumed the room once again until Clint cut in again.

"Speaking of not telling each other things," Clint raised an eyebrow, smirking, "When were you going to tell me about whatever's going on betweeen you and Tiny Banner?"

"Don't know what you mean." Natasha said coolly, trying not to smile.

"You know, for a spy, you're a really bad liar." Clint nudged her shoulder.

"I'm, um, I'm figuring it out."

Clint waited.

"He makes me happy." She smiled softly, looking up at Clint through her lashes. "Something in me figured out that I deserve to be happy." She shrugged.

"It's about damn time!" Clint grinned.

"Shut up!" Natasha smacked his arm.

He was right though, it was about time that Natasha let herself be happy, and maybe it had taken almost dying to figure that out.

"Clint?" She said, yawning.

"Hmm?"

"Can you hit the lights?" She slid down in the bed.

Getting the message, Clint nodded. He walked over to turn out the lights and returned to Natasha's bed and crawled back under the covers.

So, Natasha slept, thankful for a best friend that loved her, a good man that loved her and would go to the ends of the earth for her, and a found family for whom distance never mattered.

[mmjungmi-blog]

🔎 search contacts _ @mmgunho​ .        /          accepting.

morning text.           . . . loading setting _ current day .

✉ ( 8:15am ) → [  milky boy 🥛 ] thank u ✉ ( 8:16am ) → [  milky boy 🥛 ]  yknow, for last night... ✉ ( 8:16am ) → [  milky boy 🥛 ] next time i’ll give you more than the 1000 ₩ and a milk, mkay?

sassy text           . . . loading setting _ current day.

✉ ( 7:54pm ) → [  milky boy 🥛 ] blood on your table, wtf ✉ ( 7:54pm ) → [  milky boy 🥛 ] did you kill someone? ✉ ( 7:54pm ) → [  milky boy 🥛 ] man i knew the fashion industry was cut throat but... ✉ ( 7:54pm ) → [  milky boy 🥛 ] 😬

long-winded confession.           . . . loading setting _ current day .

☎ → ( 7:54am )  [  milky boy 🥛 ]    //     . . .

beep ! “ hey i guess you might be busy, it’s still early... heh, who calls at this hour right ? but, maybe it’s better that you didn’t answer ”    sigh .     “ remember how━ remember how that one time, in yosul, you totally sold me out the first time ?  i thought you hated me, yknow. because i was a kwak and, because sneaking around and doing things like that is bad enough but, i’m a kwak, too. we were just kids━ i know it was stupid to ask you to lie. i wasn’t even mad that you told. “                                                      another sigh, this one wistful .   “ i never said thank you, really. for every time after that you didn’t tell. for not caring that i’m a kwak, or that i was always dragging you into too much. i guess i’m being sentimental it’s just that what happened the other night was...tough. and you were there again, like you used to be... it’s dumb but, thank you for now, and thank you for back then too. thanks for believing that i’m a good person . . . and thanks for being a better one. “

worried text call.           . . . loading setting _ current day.

☎ → ( 2:26am ) [ one good boy 🥛 ]   //      . . .

beep ! “ hey, listen... i shouldn’t have done that? that guy had it coming... i know━ i know i know i know it doesn’t matter. i need to tell you because somehow i feel like you don’t know this about me; i don’t care what people have to say about you. it’s not like anyone has any clue about you, they’re wrong. just like people talk about me, people are always talking. maybe you’re right. maybe people don’t want to be vulnerable. maybe i shouldn’t say things, or the things i do. maybe i’m always doing stupid things. but that’s who i am, gunho. “         a pause of silence, breathing. “ i shouldn’t have interfered. i’m sorry. but━  problems don’t really go away just because you pretend they don’t exist. we can’t just get through life by standing still. i shouldn’t do things i do. but i’m not going to let anyone say anything like that about you in front of me. they don’t know what they’re talking about━  maybe it’s because.... “                      beep !    (          ━ maybe it’s because... i’m a kwak, but i won’t let stand by while people say those things. the way people turn their backs on me. . . that’ll never be me . . . i’m sorry gunho   )

angry text.           . . . loading setting _ current day .

✉ ( 10:36am ) → [ one good boy 🥛 ] how dare you ✉ ( 10:36am ) → [ one good boy 🥛 ] how fucking dare you ✉ ( 10:37am ) → [ one good boy 🥛 ] getting yakisoba with choa and not inviting me? ME?

drunk text.           . . . loading setting _ current day .

✉ ( 2:03am ) → [  the good boy  🥛  ] sory ✉ ( 2:03am ) → [  the good boy  🥛  ] for beign a mess ✉ ( 2:04am ) → [  the good boy  🥛  ] but ypir so dumv Llmao ✉ ( 2:05am ) → [  the good boy  🥛  ] u said trexes oh migod

vague text.           . . . loading setting _ current day .

✉ ( 8:45pm ) → [ the good boy  🥛 ] u might hear smething abt me today ✉ ( 8:45pm ) → [ the good boy  🥛 ] i am begging u ✉ ( 8:46pm ) → [ the good boy  🥛 ] even if u hear it or know ✉ ( 8:47pm ) → [ the good boy  🥛 ]  that’s ok, i can’t run from this but ✉ ( 8:56pm ) → [ the good boy  🥛 ] don’t leave me because of it... ✉ ( 8:56pm ) → [ the good boy  🥛 ] don’t let it change things 

text not meant for you.           . . . loading setting _ current day .

✉ ( 3:38am ) → [ the good boy  🥛 ] please? ✉ ( 3:39am ) → [ the good boy  🥛 ] i don’t have any shame right now just...please stop treating me this way

desperate text.           . . . loading setting _ current day .

✉ ( 1:50pm ) → [ the good boy  🥛 ] can you come get me? ✉ ( 1:53pm ) → [ the good boy  🥛 ] choa isn’t answering but i can’t be here ✉ ( 1:58pm ) → [ the good boy  🥛 ] please ✉ ( 2:00pm ) → [ the good boy  🥛 ]  ur always saving me, i’ll always owe u ✉ ( 2:01pm ) → [ the good boy  🥛 ] guess i won’t be out of debt any time soon ✉ ( 2:02pm ) → [ the good boy  🥛 ] please gunho?

text that shouldn’t have been sent.           . . . loading setting _ current day .

✉ ( 2:59am ) → [ the good boy  🥛 ] remember when we kissed ?