#saw an ad saying you should throw out your metal tags in favor of a silicone qr code tag

[patrickztump]

if your pet is found by someone who takes it to a vet or shelter, microchips are a great, sure fire way of obtaining your information. qr code tags are great if your pet is found by someone who knows to scan it, a profile with an image + multiple ways of contacting, and maybe even medical conditions + medication needs, can be readily available. but if your pet is found by someone who is not tech savvy or doesn’t have access to a vet or the scanner cannot read you your pet’s microchip, these wonderful methods can make it harder to reach you. which is why a classic metal tag with contact info engraved will always remain the superior fallback, in my opinion. couple it with any more modern, technological option, but never leave it out.

[wordynerdygurl]

Skin Deep ~ Part 4

Author’s Note:  Hi everyone!  As @that-one-person​ reminded me, we were overdue the next chapter of Skin Deep!  I hope this has been worth the wait. As always, if you’d like to be added to my tag list, let me know!  Also, requests are open and I love when you re-blog and like my work!  Thanks for all your kindness!!

This is the 4th Part of our Story with links below to the previous chapters!  ENJOY!

Skin Deep Part 1

Skin Deep Part 2 Skin Deep Part 3

Pairing;  Loki x Reader, Steve x Reader, Bucky, Natasha, Nick Fury, Thor and Valkyrie round out of cast! Summary:  Picking up where Part 3 ended:  You’re on the run with Loki, who wants answers.  Steve comes clean to an old friend, Natasha and Fury make a plan. Warnings:  References to violence, smut, intergalactic travel, and some kissing!

From his vantage point at Steve’s grill Bucky noticed the almost frantic vibration coming off his oldest friend from all the way across the lawn.  And Steve wasn't carrying any champagne.  In fact, he was whispering furiously to Natasha, shaking his head.

Looking to the skies, Bucky smelled the electricity in the air.  It made the hairs on his human arm rise, antenna to trouble, tuning into the wrecked wavelength his friend was putting out.  It was about you, of that Bucky was certain, and with your own strange behavior tonight, he knew trouble was en route. He had let you sneak away, sensing your breaking point, knowing your need for a minute alone.  It was the reason you were such great drinking buddies.  You let Bucky be himself and he returned the favor.   Besides, something in Steve was different these days, something Bucky didn't exactly like.  His friend, Captain America, hero to the weak, was pushy.  Aggressive.  Angry.

And when Steve looked at you, there was a gleam, a spark of possessiveness that gave Bucky pause.  Sure, you were amazing.  Funny, smart, undeniably sexy in a way all your own.  Bucky understood wanting you, he even got the need to have you, hold you, lock you down with a ring.   If only Steve could see how unhappy you were.   Each time Bucky saw you, the strain had pulled more of your joy away.  Sure, you baked pies, smiling the whole way, chirping platitudes and teasing Steve.  That happiness, though, it never reached your eyes.   Telling Steve that an engagement ring was too much, too soon, Bucky had tried in his very stoic way to prove that you weren't ready.  Never fully able to give his buddy his blessing, Bucky had opted instead to provide you a shoulder to lean on.  And lean you did. Slugging back vodka shots at all these parties, in the quiet and seldom used spaces of kitchens and dining rooms, you had talked easily with Bucky.  No topic was too wild or off limits, with the exception of Steve.  Anytime the name of your new love came up, the subject would change.  You'd deflect and Bucky let you. Maybe he should have pushed harder, he thought as Steve stomped his way.  Maybe Bucky should have forced you to talk about whatever issues you and Steve faced, tried his hand at advice, or offered excuses for his best friend’s erratic behavior.  If Bucky had done that, then perhaps the stifling stench of trouble wouldn't be pooling around the party, pulsing through all the high energy people gathered together.  “Buck… come here, would ya?”  Sure, Steve sounded like himself.  Jovial, a little concerned in that serious way he had, but not mad.  For some reason, it reminded Bucky of the way Steve’s father would talk, just before he’d beat the ever loving hell out of Sarah… or Steve.  It soured the stomach of battle tested Sergeant Barnes.  War was coming. “Sure thing, punk.”  Cocking his head, Steve couldn’t quite look his friend in the face, opting instead to focus on the open back door of his farm house.  Would you come strutting out of it, unaware and un-phased?  Steve prayed for that, even if his gut told him otherwise, “Bucky, you said my girl was in the ladies’ room?” Tucking his hands in his pockets, nodding solemnly, “Yea, Stevie.  Yea.  She had to piss.  It happens.”  Waiting for the battle was exhausting and Bucky just didn’t have the patience to stew in the slow burn of Steve’s anger. Clapping a broad hand along the neck of the Winter Soldier, Steve pulled his friend close.  To anyone looking, the embrace would seem brotherly, kind.  What they couldn’t see was the tight grip used to keep Bucky contained, or hear Steve’s heated harsh whisper, “Where the fuck is she, Buck?  I know you know.  So tell me.” Reacting instinctively, pulling against the restraining hook of Steve’s palm, “I don’t know what you’re talking about… she went to the bathroom, I came out here.” “Well she’s gone now and so is Loki-” Stepping back out of Steve’s reach, “Wait.  Loki was here?  I thought you said he left.  Opened the Bi-Frost or whatever.  Disappeared.” Almost growling, Steve ran desperate hands through his blonde hair, ignoring Bucky and turning to Natasha, “We need to let Fury know.  Set a perimeter.  Loki won’t be able to get off the planet, not without help anyway.” “Fury’s involved?  Steve, what is going on?” Jabbing a finger into the chest of his best friend, Steve spun, spitting, “You let Loki kidnap my fiance, that’s what’s going on!  And now I have to find her and rescue her before that greasy alien asshole does something else to the woman I love!” Rearing back, Bucky inhaled, lifting his shoulders.  If you have to fight a friend, fight fair, he thought.  Already Bucky could read violence in Steve’s muscle movement.  The graceful way Steve bounced on his toes to build momentum into his fierce throw was minute but effective.  Dropping his right arm, just a touch before stepping into his swing, Steve's eyes screamed murder and they were locked onto James Buchanan Barnes. A swish of air brushed at Buck's dark hair as the blow missed.  Bucky easily blocked the punch, grabbing his pal at the wrist and twisting until his chest was pressed into Steve’s back.  It was as fluid as the ballet you had forced them to attend a few months back, quick and clean movements, executed flawlessly. Bucky felt Steve spin in his grasp, planting his feet, preparing to toss the Winter Soldier on his ass.  His counter maneuver was a leg sweep, one Bucky was ready to use, when Steve went limp in his grip.  Natasha had sucker punched her mission partner in order to get his attention, “Steve.  You gotta relax.  Bucky didn’t know and you’re drawing attention.  Too many eyes around here, ya know?”   Natasha waved to Tony, a gesture that said, no worries, everything is ok over here.  It was enough to satisfy the playboy, who turned back to his cocktail and conversation with Rhodes. “I'm fine.  It's fine.  I’m just…” unable to find the right word, spiraling, Steve sagged towards the ground. Catching him at the waist Bucky steadied his woozy friend as Natasha brushed off help from the other guests.  Returning to the pair of soldiers out of time, The Black Widow, barely containing her disgust, “Bucky, get him inside.  Steve, I'm sending everyone home, then I’m going to make a call.”   True to her word, Natasha whispered something to Tony and Pepper, Bucky clocking their reaction of concern for both you and Steve.  It was very clear to the Sergeant that The Avengers were not in on this mission.  None of them were permitted to hang around the farm house with Nat going so far as to walk out with Clint and Rhodes.   Bustling Steve into the kitchen, Bucky kicked a chair free from the table, dropping his buddy on his ass.  Still a little amped up from the almost altercation outside, Bucky decided to put a bit of distance between him and his childhood friend, resting his hip against the counter, "What the hell was that, Steve?" "Stay out of it, Bucky." "It's too late for that, punk.  Either you start talking or we take this back outside." Side eyeing the super soldier with a metal arm, Steve tugged at the corner of a pretty place mat sullenly, "Fuck you." "Language!" "You think I give a shit about bad words?  Now?  No… things are too far gone." Waving his hand, begging for more, "Care to elaborate, Cap?" Steve had a second to consider his options.  He could let Bucky in, tell him what was going on, hear his opinions on the situation at hand.  Or… not.   "You don't need to be involved.  Once Nat gets back, it's best if you go." Thunking into the opposite seat, Bucky leveled his grey gaze on his pal, "And if I say no?" "Look, it's an off the record thing.  Tony, the rest of them?  They know nothing.  I don’t need you sticking your nose in-" That was all it took for the dam of Bucky’s own outrage to burst.  With a wood rattling slap to the custom built dining table, open palm connecting enough to make Steve jump, "Damn it, Rogers!  My nose is in this already.  Hell, you were ready to half kill me over this… over her, not fifteen minutes ago!" Sighing, hard and heavy, Captain America pressed back in the wooden chair.  He saw the questions in Bucky's look, the need to unravel this mystery, the desire to find a way out for his friends.  And Steve realized that to accept his buddy's help, Bucky would need the full story. The truth hurts and Buck's words stung Steve.  Bucky was right and in the end, he reasoned, they might need him to help bring down Loki.  After a second of consideration, a rough hand sliding through his blonde locks, "Fine.  FUCK!  Fine.  What do you know?" Crossing his arms over his chest, stern voiced but curious, Bucky started, "Just you and Nat reporting to Fury?  Small team." "Small mission.  At least, at first."  Trying not to give anything away, making Bucky work for it felt good, almost like a return to his life before Loki, before you.   Tapping his metallic finger on the table, Bucky resumed his questions, "So, how does Loki figure into this?" Leaning forward, Steve lowered his voice, “Weapons tech.  Power.  More than when he attacked New York.  He’s been off world gaining followers, an army, and a throne.” “So the plan was to keep Loki away, right?” Nodding, Steve’s inflection solemn, “By any means necessary.” Rocking his head back, as if slapped, Bucky’s eyes widened.  Just the implication of those words, by any means necessary, used by Nick Fury meant that this mission was crossing a line from mundane into murderous.   "And she was your way in."  It started to take shape, the whole sorted plan, Natasha’s involvement and Steve’s role in it all.  Bucky felt that prickly sensation again. Bowing his golden head, Steve shook it yes, "Only… I wasn't brought in… I… volunteered." "Ok, but why?"  Inching closer to the truth, waiting out the Captain, Bucky nodded for him to continue.  When Steve wasn't forthcoming, Bucky nudged his foot with a sharp kick, eager to accelerate the story. For a second that frantic, frenzied energy flashed through the room again, pulling on Bucky's sixth sense, "Because I wanted what Loki had… who Loki had.  I wanted her, so bad Bucky.  So bad."  “Steve… come on, man.  There are other girls out there-” Cutting his friend off with a shout, “Why should that asshole have her?  He doesn’t deserve her.  Before he left, she was always so sweet, so cute… then he… abandoned her!  Left her!  Man, that was… just so hard to see.” “Yea… I know.  I mean, I remember when she and Loki were together.  And I know his leaving was hard on her.” “Hard on her?  She… she stopped eating, stopped sleeping.  God, I could hear her crying all night.  Know how hard it was to keep away?  To know that Loki had forgotten her?”   Steve kept talking, about you, about loving you, and the lengths he went to in an effort to court you.  He followed up with all the ways you denied him, over and over, until Natasha intervened.  That all of it played into Fury’s plan was a convenient cross-point, coincidence, until things had gone wrong this afternoon. Bucky let him tell his story, knowing full well it was merely a version, a fairy tale wrapped around the rotten apple of truth. In Steve’s world he was the hero, wronged by fate, Fury and Loki Odinson.  His path had been paved with good intentions and pure hearted motives.  It was everyone else who misunderstood, miscalculated and mistook his actions.  Could Steve be blamed for that?   Of course, this edition of Steve’s tale didn't include beating up a cuffed prisoner.  It also omitted the fact that Steve had been pursuing you while actively lying about Loki's whereabouts.  Glossing over the details allowed Steve to paint a picture highlighting the best of him, but Bucky had known the little punk a long time.   During a long pause that found Steve with his head in his hands, Bucky took a deep breath and asked, “And how did you and Fury know what Loki was up to?” “He was sending mission reports weekly.  Loki had been tasked with helping promote peace across the Nine Realms.  That he gained so much was the tipping point.  Fury felt like a return to Earth would be 2012 all over again, only this time… total annihilation.” Something was still nagging at Bucky, “Had Loki made any threats?” A guilty look passed over the face of Captain America and his normally solid voice wavered, “Not that I was told about.” “So, Fury...?” “Fury needed… no, that’s not right.  He wanted to keep close tabs on Loki, monitor his return, his mood, his movements, if he ever came back.” “And since she was his lover, she was a potential point of contact… the entry point?” “A possible one.” “If you were dating her and Nat was posing as her friend, then you’d know if Loki reached out, spilling the details on his plans, and be able to head him off at the pass.” “Exactly!”  Oddly proud, Steve was almost happy that he no longer carried the burden by himself.  Sure, Natasha knew, had even engineered some of it, but having a friend on his side made Steve feel better. “But Loki didn’t do that?  He surprised you today?” Blowing out a frustrated snort, “Natasha went to meet him at the base.  Apparently, the high and mighty Prince expected to be greeted by Fury and his forgotten lover.” “That didn’t sit well with the God of Mischief?” “Nope.  Somehow he froze Nat.  Confined her, I don’t know… Anyway, he came here and…”  Trailing off, Steve could still picture his lady’s body, your body bent under his own, your eyes pressed shut in ecstasy.  How you ground against what looked like his own sculpted skin, moaning through an orgasm that appeared amazing, and left you with shaky legs. Going silent, Bucky didn’t push, not this time, but he did feel the moment Steve surrendered fully.  His shoulders let go with a deep inhale, his voice sounding like that scrawny kid from Brooklyn after a bad scrape,  "She loves him, man.  And I fucked up.  Loki’s got my girl and I don't have any way to find her or fight him." Tears?  Sighs?  This wasn't Steve.  No, Captain America was an unstoppable, unflappable hero.  Spinning out was Bucky's move, not Steve’s.  Putting his fleshy hand on Steve’s shoulder, trying to console the broken man in front of him, "Come on, kid.  There's always a way to win.  It's what you and I have been doing for over a century." “Not this time, man.” "Why not?  Did you come clean?  That’s why she left, isn’t it?  You told her what was going on and she went after Loki."    Shame filled Steve’s heart, his cheeks burning, "I… I didn’t get the chance.  She left here, but not alone." "She'll be back."  Words, pathetic platitudes, were all Bucky could offer.  He had seen you tonight, skittish and jumpy.  He saw Steve’s reaction to your disappearance, angry and hurt.  Bucky thought that a snowball in hell stood a better chance than you're returning. "Not happening.  I lost it on her, Buck.  Smashed up mom's dresser, yelled… It was like being outside myself, watching myself do and say these terrible things.  And it wasn't her fault.  Not really.  I mean, yea, she fucked him but he was me, so-" "Whoa.  Stop.  Say that again?" Steeling himself to relieve this afternoon’s nightmare again, Steve swallowed hard, "Loki, you know how he can… shape shift?  Well, he came here as me and I walked in on myself screwing my girl!" Bucky's eyebrows lifted, his full lips curling into a cockeyed grin, "Wait.  You're telling me that you came home and saw yourself banging your future fiancé?" Pausing, catching Bucky barely holding back a smirk, "Yea… why?" And for some reason, after all the incredible things Steve had shared tonight, it was the idea of Steve catching himself balls deep in your naughty bits that made Bucky laugh.  Once he started, Bucky couldn't control the mad giggles from overtaking him, much to Steve’s astonishment.  But then Steve laughed, too, "I guess it is pretty funny, when you think about it." "I mean, your face must have been priceless!"  Clutching his stomach as the laughter grew stronger, Bucky had tears running down his cheeks at the image Steve described.  Sure, it was a horrible thing, but who could say that they watched themselves having sex like that without being in porno?   It took them both a minute to calm down, with Steve settling enough to counter, "Shit, Buck!  I was pissed!  I probably looked crazy." "That I do believe.  What did you say to her?  Them?" Now his face flushed scarlet, burning with embarrassment.  The lie was just easier to get out, "Um… I don't really remember.  I know I surprised Loki and well, my girl fainted from being used by him.  The shock of it not being me, ya know?" Bucky didn't buy it, but he let his friend sell the story anyway, "Must have been scary for her.  And that's when you secured Loki in the locked shed?  And set Nat as your watchdog?" "Yup."  Unable to meet his friend’s stormy stare, knowing that it would undo him completely, Steve focused on the edge of the table, running his fingers back and forth along the rough wood.  If this were an interrogation and Bucky were sitting across from a suspect and not his best friend, he’d have no problem beating the guilty man into submission.  But Steve was his strongest connection to this world, this time, and it was hard to walk away from family, even if they didn’t deserve the benefit of your doubt.  To that end, one thing still bothered Bucky, "Why not cancel the party, man?" "Because I still want to marry her."  Pulling the small black box from his front pocket, Steve toyed with the thing, his vision of a future with you still so close to realized. Whistling at the size of the sparkly rock enshrined in white gold, "Fancy.  What do you think your chances are?  Think she'll say yes?" "My chances went down to zero the second Loki dropped down to Earth.  As for her answer… Dunno.  I… I hope so, but now…", Steve faded off, knowing there was little hope for your romantic reunion if he didn’t have a clear idea of where you were at the moment. "Now Loki’s back." "Right." “And they’re gone, together.” “Right.” “And Fury’s on his way.”  Striding in on impossibly high heels, Natasha folded her arms over her chest, eyeing the two gossiping men in front of her.  It was going to be a long night. --- Somehow you had made it to the treeline undetected, using the orchard as a shield, ducking behind trunks as you and Loki scrambled toward the edge of the property.  You couldn't help looking over your shoulder, checking for pursuit, worrying that Steve or Natasha were going to find the pair of you.  There was no possible way they would let you get away, not after today, not with Loki. It was a bit treacherous, though.  There was only natural light to guide you through twisted branches and raised roots, so your progress was slower than you wanted, but Loki was with you.  Even beaten and bruised, he radiated calm, a soothing balm for your frayed nerves.  Something about that made this whole situation seem better, manageable.  You were no longer alone, Loki was here, holding your hand, not directing you but consulting.  "Pet… the roadway is up ahead.  Stay here, tucked out of sight." Pulling your long lost lover close, a small kiss passed between you, a passionate promise to sit still.  Stepping tentatively out onto the gravel filled shoulder, Loki surveyed the highway quickly.  When he was satisfied that the coast was clear, Loki waved at you, motioning you forward.   Striding confidently at your side, Loki stopped in the dead center of the yellow lines, his grounding arm around your waist.  A car, low, black, expensive, came racing round the bend, barreling towards you.  Tucking your chin to Loki's chest, you gripped him tight, readying for the car's impact.   A roar of wind swirled around you, grabbing at your skirt, whipping around your legs.  For a second you thought you'd been struck.  Breathless, your lungs emptied.    There was nothing solid under you, just the feeling of Loki and a current of warm air.  Next, you felt the impact of hard earth under your feet, vibrating through your shins, then Loki's grip loosening a touch, "Ok, darling?" Peeking from under his arm you saw lights everywhere.  A bar was to your left, filled with noisy drinkers, barely discernible from the traffic around you.  Honking horns made you jump, "Where the hell are we?" "Cleveland.  I can't yet take us off world.  I'm still a bit weak, I'm afraid… but at least we have a bit of a head start on Rogers and Fury." People pushed past you on their way to dinner, chirping happily, not seeing you in their tunnel vision.  Being anonymous was a nice change, welcome even, as your personal life had been lost to Steve's intergalactic presence.  On the busy streets of Ohio no one took notice of the two well dressed people standing on the damp sidewalk. "Um, you changed?", no longer sporting his battle gear, Loki was dapper in a black suit with an ebony tie.  Leaning closer you straightened it, not because it was crooked, but because you needed to feel it… him.  The whole look was just shy of too much, but that was the space Loki filled best and honestly, looking at him made your heart swell. Loki was back, and yours.  After more than two years, having him close again felt natural, easy.  In so many ways, the opposite of your life with Steve.  As if somehow sensing your tug into nostalgia, Loki knuckled your chin up, "Just keeping up with you, love." His nose brushed against your own, so weirdly intimate and innocent for a man who had slapped your ass red only hours ago.  Resting his forehead to yours, you inhaled that magical combination of burning sparklers, broken in leather with just a hint of honeyed citrus, "God, I forgot how great you smell." "Hmm… dove, there is nothing on Asgard that smells or tastes as wonderful as you.  Believe me.  I looked." "Careful Loki… people will say we're in love."  At your cheekiness, Loki claimed your lips, his hands sliding over the soft fabric of your dress.  Clinging to him, unwilling to let go now that he had returned, you puffed out a pouty sigh as Loki withdrew. “Norns.  You know how badly I want you again?  I can barely think straight for wanting you.” Oblivious to everything around you, lost in the sweeping pools of Loki’s desire filled expression, you toyed with his collar, “We have a lot of catching up to do, for sure.” “I’d love to get reacquainted-” here he paused to lick over his full lower lip, hunger for you dripping from every word, “-but we are on the run from the Earth’s mightiest heroes.”  Snickering, you rolled your eyes at the thought of the Avengers, hours away eating charcuterie in Steve’s backyard.  Stepping back, you sighed, “You’re right.  So, have you got a plan?” Hanging in the air, your sentence had just left your mouth, your tongue still savoring the syllables when a sizzling crack snapped next to your ear.  Swinging you away, forcing you to the sidewalk, Loki spun in a blaze of green.  Crouched over you, snarling, “Fury!  Always a pleasure to see you.” Stepping from the blazing golden circle supplied by Dr. Strange, Fury crossed onto the Cleveland sidewalk from your now empty garden party, weapon trained on Loki’s broad chest.  “Wish I could say the same, Loki.  You know it’s time to end this.  Let’s take our… deliberations back to the office.  Talk about this man to man.” A barking laugh left your lover, “Man to man?  I am a GOD!  And you… you are pathetic.  Your attempts to keep me off Earth, imprisoned, away from my woman have all failed.” “Where are you going to go?  You can’t get off the planet without help.  My help.  And it’s yours, Loki, if-” “If I come quietly?  Tail between my legs, submissive and compliant?”  As the words left his mouth, you watched, focused on the way Loki was shifting closer to you.  The long fingers of his right hand were visible, reaching back for you, a silent signal of his escape plan. Fed up and furious, Nick Fury’s voice was flat with frustration, “Loki.  Enough.  Let’s do this somewhere people aren’t.” “Oh, I don’t know, this seems as good a place as any!”  Circling Loki, edging nearer, Fury tried reasoning, “Endangering civilians isn’t going to make things easier.  You know that.” “You know, I’d love to talk about how you betrayed me.  How you stonewalled my lady… how you put Captain America in my place, as if he could ever be worthy of her.  But, I’m a little busy at the moment.”  Snapping his fingers, you jumped to your feet, grabbing for Loki’s outstretched hand.   The second your palm connected that feeling of floating overcame you once more.  This time you were ready for the roar of traveling through space by Loki’s magic, the push of meeting the ground, the curl of Loki’s body against yours.  Blinking, you opened your eyes on new scenery, the chill of a beautiful sea soaked morning breaking around you. Straightening the coat of his pristine suit, Loki smiled at you as his fingers wove between your own, “New Asgard.  My brother’s realm, now ruled by Valkyrie, by his abdication.  We need to find him.  He has a lot to answer for.” --- "Just what in the hell happened?  I thought I was very clear about avoiding this exact problem."   Pacing, hands firmly on his leather belted waist, Nick Fury growled at the bent head of Steve Rogers.  "Now Loki’s on the run, dragging your… Well, what is she exactly Captain?  Girlfriend?  Fiancé?  Mark? along for the ride." At those harsh words, Steve started, ready to focus his own anguish somewhere, anywhere.  Fury was as good a target as any, as far as Steve was concerned.  Pushing off the paving stones, he was stalled from rising by Natasha's firm hand and quiet words, "We have an idea-" "I don't want ideas.  Not from you two.  What I want are answers, Romanoff, and I want them now." Sitting on the emptied bench of the picnic table, still covered with your pretty tablecloth and jars of peonies, Natasha sighed, "I didn't have time to alert Steve.  Loki made it here first and… reconnected-" "Is that what we're calling it?"  Snapping, Nick glared from his good eye, his last name never more appropriate. Exhaling deeply, Natasha Romanoff squared her shoulders, "Sir, Loki… manipulated the circumstances." "Just what in the hell does that mean?" All three available eyes locked onto Steve, “What it means, Fury-” lifting his golden head with a jaw clenched tight, “- what it means, is that the son of a bitch showed up here and had his way with my woman. “After Loki… took advantage of her, I had him.  He was contained, here, in my shed.  It was modified with the restraints Tony provided with Thor’s direction.” “And still, he got away?”  Disbelief clouded every syllable from Fury.  That his two top agents had failed and so badly, had the normally stoic director steaming. Standing now, Steve was almost chest to chest with the man who’d been pulling the strings of this entire operation.  Natasha, watching closely, knowing that she would only be able to subdue one of them if it came to it, gently palmed the dagger concealed in her waist band.  Steve thrust forward, brushing past Fury before facing him once more, “Yea, Nick.  He did.  He got away.” “Do you know how?”  Fury’s fingers were curled around his pocket taser, just in case Captain America needed a jolt, reminding him of who was calling the shots here.  It wouldn’t do much except give Nick a head start, but with the Captain looking so rough and so raw, the SHIELD director would take any advantage available. “We believe that… he was set free.”  Natasha didn’t want to say the words.  You had let Loki go, that much she knew to be true, and she supposed that it made some sort of sense. Steve had been right all along.  You and Loki did have some cosmic connection that even time and distance couldn’t eliminate.  Intervening for the sake of Fury’s mission and Steve’s pining heart, Natasha had no qualms about why she’d guided you into a relationship, in fact, she still believed that he was a better man for you than Loki. But no.  No matter what Rogers did, you had never let go with him like you had with the younger son of Odin.  Not that you complained.  You had taken all of Natasha’s words of praise, her seemingly well intentioned advice, her flat out advocating for Steve in stride.   Sure, your friendship suffered for it.  Natasha, never having been one for close ties to anyone, had enjoyed the talking and gossiping.  It was nice to have a girl around the tower.  One who understood period cramps and cravings.  A person who would put on high heels and makeup for a night of dancing then suggest hoodies and shorts for watching Pride and Prejudice.  That was over now.  When she had been, well, frankly, overpowered by Loki and his new paralyzing weaponry, Natasha knew the plan for a peaceful capture of the prince was over.  Having seen the aftermath of your reunion with the space god, having seen Steve’s seething anger, the Black Widow felt her own ire spike. Didn’t you know how hard she had worked?  How tireless her efforts had been to keep you and Loki apart?  Just how invested she was in joining you and Steve together?  It was like you wanted to throw all of that away, squandering those bonding moments where you had become something more than a mission, those times when you were Natasha’s only real friend. Couldn’t you just go along with the plan, unknowing, quietly?  She knew you couldn’t, wouldn’t.  It wasn’t in your nature.  So, channeling that frustration into the cold facade that so many had seen just before they met their end, Natasha had to compartmentalize the “you” she cared about away from the “you” she was responsible for trailing.  Both had pissed her off. Now, hearing the gruff grumble of Director Fury bearing down on her, Natasha could only accept the berating tone of his hard words.  He wasn’t wrong.  She and Steve had fucked up royally, the whole mission was blown, and while Bucky had certainly aided in your escape, he was blameless collateral damage.  The consequences fell to you and the Captain.  Killing you was going to be hard for them both, but if it had to be done, so be it. Shrugging, Natasha started again, “Nick, we have a tracker on her.  We know that she and Loki made it to Cleveland, but he can’t get away from Earth without some aid.” “Well, that’s good to know, if only it was some new intelligence.  You’re tracking her?  Great!  Where is she now?  Don't know huh?  Well, she and Loki tele-ported from a city sidewalk, in front of me and hundreds of civilians, with no word on their next destination.  “And make no mistake.  Loki will find a way off of this planet and when that happens, there’ll be nothing else we can do.” “So what?  Let him go!  He’s won, Nick.  It’s over.”  Throwing himself down onto the bench, Steve’s dejected voice breaking, he slumped over his feet. “That’s not an option Cap.  Loki is more powerful now than he’s ever been.  You both read the reports.  He wasn’t just hanging around on Asgard.  No, Loki was negotiating peace between his native realm of Jotunheim and his adoptive home.  He was gifted with tools and technology that no human could hope to wield.  Earth ending stuff, Captain.” “Whatever plans you had of making peace are over now.  There’s no way Loki gives us any help… and why would he after all this?” “Rogers, I’ll do whatever I must to keep this planet and the creatures on it safe.  Loki is a threat to that, just by existing.  With his new powers, high placed connections and intergalactic royal title, he had the potential to be unstoppable.” Seething breath puffed out the chests of the two men standing toe to toe.  Machismo made Natasha want to vomit.  Men. “Look, I’ll go after them.  Steve, stay here, in case she reaches out.  I’ll take the quinjet and trace their path.”  Standing now herself, Natasha turned to the depressed super soldier, patting his arm, “Bucky’s still here.  I’ll let you know when I’ve found anything.” “No.  Nat, I can’t let you go alone.  It’s my fault, too.”  “You’re no good to me like this, Rogers.” “But, She’s-” Cutting him off, Natasha stepped closer to Nick, “I know, but you’re too involved.  If tough choices need to be made, can you?” Gulping hard, passing a rough hand over his face, Steve frowned, “I can do my duty, if that’s what you’re asking.” “Steve.”  Her tone said it all the words she wouldn't vocalize.  I don’t trust you, not now, not like this.  I don’t believe you will have my back at the cost of the woman you claim to love.  I don’t think you can do the job. Fury didn't allow her the chance to elaborate, jumping in with his definitive voice, “Natasha’s right, Rogers.  You’re staying right where you are, on the bench.  Romanoff and I are going to resolve this issue without any further problems.”  Half hearted, strength sapped, Steve raised his eyes to the leather clad figures before him, “Please.  Please, Nick… Nat.  Don’t hurt her.” “I promise, Steve.  I won’t.”  And in the second, all three knew she was lying.

--- Finding Thor’s shanty was easier than you expected.  A friendly fisherman was only too happy to point you in the right direction.  What you saw upon arrival was not entirely what you had expected when visiting Loki’s brother. It was a beat up looking cottage, surrounded by empty cases of cheap Midgardian beer, crumpled take out containers, and a collection of well fed seagulls situated near the edge of the village, “Ugh.  What a pig.” “Loki!  It’s… charming?”  Your admonishing whisper turned the statement into a question at the sight of Loki’s disgusted face.  For a second you just stood at Loki’s side, staring at the weather beaten front door, your hand clasped in his strong one. “It’s disgusting.” Agreeing with a small nod, “Um, yes.  Yes, it is.  But, this is your brother’s house and you said we needed to talk to him.  Step one is ringing his bell.” “No.  I won’t do it.” You had forgotten about this side of Loki.  Fastidious, precise and obstinate, Loki could cop an attitude that had the ability to drive someone crazy.  Someone like you. Over the last two years it had been easy to forget all the little things that made Loki prickly.  It was even easier to forgive him.  Since he’d left, you had looked at your life together through rose glasses, through a gentle fog of missing him, and those elements of your relationship that were less than perfect had been abandoned. Now, standing outside the hovel that Thor called a home, as a fresh day dawned over New Asgard, you were reminded of all those imperfect things that came with loving Loki.  A wave of need, love, and longing for him rolled over you.  All of those imperfections made you perfect for each other. Rising up on your toes you pressed a small kiss to Loki’s pout, taking the tall God by surprise, “What was that for?” Shyly grinning, you bit into your bottom lip, “I missed you… missed kissing you.” “Then perhaps you should come over here again?”  That was all the invitation you needed.  Stepping into Loki’s space, your chest resting against his own, you savored the nearness of him, as himself.  He wasn’t playing at being Steve.  Loki was here, he was with you, and if you weren’t mistaken his hands were drifting down your backside.  The rush of it, well, it was familiar and new at the same time.  How Loki seemed to inhale your breath, inhale you, as his mouth opened to accept your lips.  His gentle exhale, a moan, as his tongue licked over your own.  It was overwhelming.  It was wonderful. Stepping back, you started to pull away, only for Loki to wrap his arms around your waist, “Not so fast, darling.” Losing yourself, you focused solely on the firmness of his body, the weight of his hands on your hips, the intensity of Loki’s desire.  Intoxicating, heady, you leaned into those feelings.  Kissing Loki back, you tangled his hair in your hand, earning another one of those sultry sounds that made your legs weak.  How had you lived without the passion and pleasure he provided for so long? A smashing crash broke the quiet morning causing you to jump in Loki’s embrace, “What the hell was that?” Immediately on the defense, Loki pushed you behind him, crouching into a protective stance.  From over his broad shoulder you watched, worried about the new danger coming your way, unsure how to help your reactive lover.  Another rattle had Loki palming his dagger, anticipating an attack.  That’s when a raccoon, bigger than your childhood terrier, scuttled from under an overturned trash can carrying what looked like a half eaten slice of pizza in its mouth. “Appalling!  Mother would be modified!” Loki cursed as he offered you his hand, kicking away an empty glass bottle, "Why is he living like a dirty animal, surrounded by trash?  One would think they were back on Sakaar!"  “I don’t know what’s going on with Thor, but we came here for a reason.  Let’s get it over with, ok?” Loki shook his head, refusing to step any closer, “He’ll have to come out here.  I won’t go inside this… dilapidated shit box.” Sighing, “Fine.  Fine, I’ll do it.”   Stepping around a pile of broken electronics, you carefully picked your way to the front door, gracefully knocking on the splintering wood.  After an answerless few seconds, you tried again, rapping lightly with your knuckles before turning to flash Loki a small smile.  That’s when you noticed the striking woman striding towards you and your returned lover. “My, my… is that pretty Prince Loki I see?”  Even her voice was sexy, you thought, as the sarcastic words dripped from her full lips.  The swaggering stranger radiated cool, calm, sensual energy.  Otherworldly energy that made you feel mortal and boring.  You couldn’t help tugging your skirt straight and fluffing your hair as she got closer. “Ah… Valkyrie!  How are you?” Hugging her tightly when she opened her arms, Loki found that he was genuinely happy to see the fierce, battle tested warrior. Smirking at your man, she countered, “That’s King Valkyrie to you.  Your brother crowned me, or have you forgotten?” “On the contrary.  It seems like he finally realized what I’ve known all our lives.” “Which is what, exactly?” “He’s not fit to be the ruler of Asgard, obviously.” Drawing right up to Loki, hands on her hips, Valkyrie leveled her dark eyes at his, “What would you know about ruling, Mischief?” “Enough to know that you’re good at it.  Enough to know that I no longer want to be the King of Asgard.” “Is that so?  And what’s changed your mind?” At those skeptical words, Loki wound an arm around your waist, tugging you close, “I’ve got more… important concerns these days.” Looking you over with her shrewd, searching gaze, but speaking to Loki, “And she likes you?  Are you sure?” Laughing, the sound deep and rich, “As much as you like fighting and drinking.” “I hardly drink anymore.  As King I have mead only on important occasions, I have to keep my wits about me the rest of the time.” Sharing a laugh, the two shared another small hug before Valkyrie turned to you directly, “Alright.  Who’s this then?” Loki started to respond but you cut him off, extending a hard towards the newly crowned King of Asgard, “Uh, I can answer for myself, thank you, Loki.  Valkyrie is it?  Nice to meet you.  And, yes, I love Loki.” Making a face that was part disgust, part pride, Valkyrie smirked, “Love?  Oh no.  Hasn’t anyone told you yet?  Loving the Odinson boys is hard on a girl.” Pulling Loki in for a small kiss, taking him by surprise, “I’ll take my chances.” Shrugging nonchalantly, “Suit yourself.”  Focusing on Loki once more, Valkyrie shifted on her feet, “Listen, if you’re looking for Thor, he’s not here.” “Oh?  And where exactly is the lovable oaf?” Hitching a thumb over her shoulder, pointing up the hill, “At the palace… the new palace, that is.  You can come and, please, don’t forget your girlfriend.” Falling in line behind the King, Loki couldn’t help but add, “You know Val, I think I liked you better when you were drunk.” Snorting in response, “And I know I liked you better when I was drunk, weird right?” Bringing up the rear, your own sarcastic comment dying on your throat when the Palace of New Asgard came into view.  Banners of gold shimmered in the light of the rising sun, flapping in the breeze of the young morning, beckoning you closer.  You hugged Loki’s arm tighter, excited and exhilarated by the sight before you. “Home is a people, not a place.  Those were some of my father’s last words to Thor and I… and while I can never take you to the place where I grew up, this… this is the home of my people.” “Loki… it’s beautiful!” Valkyrie, stopping so you could both catch up, “It’s getting there.  Thor’s been a huge help.  Come on, let's show you around the palace and let your brother know you’re here.” ---To Be Continued!

My minxes:  @sammy-jo1977 @vodka-and-some-sass @just-random-obsessions @brokenthelovely @lots-of-loki  @thefallenbibliophilequote @iamverity @iluvsumbucky @unadulteratedwizardlove @wolfsmom1 @procrastinatinglikeabitch @mizfit2 @shxdowofdarkness @nonsensicalobsessions @ahintofkiwistrawberry @alexakeyloveloki @jessiejunebug @rorybutnotgilmore @crystalizedcaramel @lokislittlecorner @scrumptious-finicky-illusion @capcapcapsicle @jamielea81 @caffiend-queen @thenatalie @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore @jenjen8675309 @that-one-person

[betsyandmaxwellandduchessohmy]

can we get headcanons/reactions for a dadsona who's like, The Ernest Whisperer? they get along pretty famously, dadsona is really good at making ernest make better choices without being condescending about it. it's not perfect, but "dude, if you're gonna set fire to that trash can, you need a fuse or you'll blow your eyebrows off" is better than shutting him down or ignoring it altogether. like the mom in mean girls, steerin regina towards the Safer choice.

((I feel like I should say right off the bat; this is not part of the Lemon Boy continuity. There's two more parts to that but this isn't one of them. So Ernest is getting a bunch of love and I adore it. Honestly, Ernest is gonna be doing stupid, dangerous shit anyway, we might as well make sure he’s at least being safe about it. Also I love Ernest channeling his angst through artistic pursuits, so I’m adding it here.))

~~~

Summer had arrived. Amanda had graduated, and the kids of the cul-de-sac were free to their adventures. Which, of course, meant the troublemakers were free to their trouble.

You’d become something of an expert at dealing with the troublemakers, seeing as your daughter could be considered such by certain people, and you yourself had been considered such in your younger years by other certain people who were… probably dead by now, honestly. 

You’d gotten to know all the neighborhood kids pretty well since moving in, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have favorites. All the kids seemed to like you well enough - Craig’s girls invited you to their games from time to time, Joseph’s oldest seemed to have taken an interest in your garden for some reason, and Daisy and Carmensita might favor Amanda over you on any given day, but they were polite and sweet and complimented your cooking, so you weren’t too sore about it. But hands down, you got on with Ernest and Lucien the best. You remembered what it was like to be that age, and you were proud to say you’d managed to get through where others said was impassable. You could tell the boys liked you, even if they refused to admit it. Maybe they could tell that you’d been like them, once upon a time. Trouble begets trouble, after all. It felt like they’d made an unspoken bet to see who could push you further. Who could get you to agree to or help with the most outlandish thing. 

Lucien made you tag along while he did graffiti on the underside of the bridge by the dam. You lent him your spare respirator mask and kept an eye out for police and neighborhood watch.

Ernest found an abandoned factory a little ways from the cul-de-sac, and insisted on going there to fuck around. You managed to casually ask Hugo if Ernest was up to date on his tetanus shots and managed to convince Ernest not to swing from rafters or mess around with any old blades.

Lucien convinced you to give him and his friends a ride to a concert in the next city over. You paid for a last minute ticket and tagged along to make sure they’d be okay, and even managed to get a guy kicked out when you saw him slip something in one of Lucien’s friend’s drinks. 

Ernest roped you into a paintball war in the more wooded area of the park. You supplied face shields and forced disposable rain ponchos over his and his friend’s heads. They didn’t help very much or last very long, but there was slightly less paint on them than there would have been, so it was a win. As was getting the paint stains out of Ernest’s favorite hoodie.

But beyond that - beyond the bet and the games and the stupid dangerous shit you tried to buffer them from, you knew that they trusted you. By this point, Hugo and Damien knew that their kids saw you as someone safe to lean on, and while Damien was simply glad, Hugo was more than a little baffled. You offered him what advice you could, but you knew that sometimes, your dad just felt too close. Hugo was getting the hang of it, but it was easier for you.

When Damien went out of town for the weekend, it was you that Lucien called when he started feeling unsafe at the house party he’d gone to.

When Ernest’s friends ditched him when they ran from the cops, he called you to come get him from the alley he’d hidden himself in.

Every time, you made sure they weren’t hurt. You made sure they weren’t scared. You promised not to tell their dads. You took them out for ice cream or greasy all-night diner food. And you brought them home.

You were accustomed to the boys deciding that doing stupid shit sounded like the best idea in the world. So when you saw Ernest and a few of his friends bumming around the orange-clad kid’s driveway, you kept an eye on them while you went about your business. Stores had been stocking up on firecrackers since April, so you wouldn’t be surprised if the rapscallions had managed to get their hands on a few here and there. You hesitated briefly before turning your back, brushing the last few flecks into place before straightening up again, smiling down at the beautiful thing you’d made. A frown tugged at your face, though, when you went for your pocket and found you’d misplaced your lighter. Poking around the garage for a moment, you spotted it on the little table you’d set up beside the garage door. Reaching for it, you paused, poking your head out into the summer air.

Ernest and his friends had migrated to Joseph’s trash cans. There was laughter - always a good sign - and they were pressed close together to block your view of what they were doing to the poor bin, but you had the feeling it wasn't going to be good.

When you saw one of the boys pull a lighter from his pocket you turned on a dime, marching over and plucking the large cylinder off the top of the trash bags, holding it up over your head and out of reach of any of the little monsters.

“Just what in the Styx do you boys think you’re doing?” you asked. Before anyone could answer, the figures immediately scattered, like the rats in ratatouille. They all ran in different directions, seeming to think that you couldn’t catch all of them. They were right, but you only really needed to catch Ernest, who had stumbled back from the can and was looking up at you with what could only be described as a pout. Slowly lowering the bundle, you gave it a glance. 

Sparklers.

Well, at least it wasn’t bottle rockets or something. 

"I- I feel like I should ask what your thought process was here?" you confessed, looking at the bundle of unlit sparklers. There must have been well over five hundred there, how did they get a hold of that many sparklers??

"Logan saw a video of a guy lighting ten thousand sparklers on fire. They wouldn't sell us that many, but I still think it was pretty impressive."

"What's impressive is that you guys were going to stand here, a foot away from a trashcan filled with sparklers, and expected not to wind up with your faces melted off,” you laughed softly in disbelief. “You’ve lit enough stuff on fire by this point that I feel like you, of all people, should know to use a fuse, if nothing else. Where's your dad, anyway?" 

"The school," Ernest grunted, kicking at a loose pebble on the pavement. "Had some stuff to finish before he's done for summer."

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. You felt for the poor guy - reigning in reckless teens as a single parent was hard enough working from home, you couldn't imagine the position Hugo was in.

“Listen, I get the interest in firepower better than most - a little destructive force is cool and fun and all, I’m just staying there’s safer ways to go about it,” you insisted, sighing and running a hand over your face. Ernest, for his part, had the decency to look at least a little ashamed. A smile tugged at your lips as you looked back up at the garage. There was a thought... “Hey. If you’re still in the mood for some fire, I’ve got something you might like,” you offered. Ernest’s brows furrowed in confusion, and you nodded toward your garage, your smile growing just slightly when he fell into step beside you. “Y’know, my dad doesn’t really like me going into shady guy’s garages,” Ernest hummed, stepping past the garage door as if to make a point. “Sound advice. Good thing I’m not that shady,” you chuckled, mimicking Ernest’s skeptical look and throwing it back at him. “We’re neighbors with Robert, arguably the shadiest dude around. I’m comparatively way less shady. No offense to Robert. Now come check this out.” Ernest rolled his eyes, but did as instructed, stepping up to the large slice of walnut set up on sawhorses. The round of wood still had its bark attached to its edges, and black flecks were spread across the piece, shading in the image of a pair of crows perched on a gnarled branch, almost lifelike in their detail. “O… kay. What am I looking at?” he asked, arching a brow. “Like, not that it’s not cool, but… um?” You couldn’t keep the chuckle back, setting the sparkler bomb on your workbench and you pulling your lighter from your pocket. “What you’re looking at, Ernest, is best known as gunpowder painting,” you hummed, tossing up the lighter and catching it in your hand. Ernest’s expression changed from confused boredom to a level of fascination in a flash, his gaze darting up to your face. Tossing up the lighter once more, you caught it and held it out to the kid. “Care to do the honors?”

Ernest took the lighter, looking at the black flecks, and glancing warily back up at you before flicking the little device. Reaching out with a steady hand, he lit the end of the branch, watching with unbridled delight as the image went up in flames, each fleck of powder burning a small mark into the wood before going out quickly. You silently guided him back a step as the flames got higher, and for half a second, Ernest feared that the two of you might burn your garage down, until he noticed the sheet of metal you’d strung up from the garage rafters, protecting the wood. The kid laughed a little at the sight, and you couldn’t help but ruffle his hair. You knew Hugo had a fair bit of trouble with him, but he really was a good kid. He just needed a guiding hand.

Seconds later, the flames died, and the crows were burnt into the wood, beautiful and visually interesting. “That was so cool!” Ernest grinned brightly, reaching out to run his fingers over the burn marks. “Mind it- it’s still a little hot,” you warned, smiling as you moved to retrieve a container of walnut oil. “It’s a little more precise than a wood burning tool. Unlit gunpowder’s a bit more forgiving.” “Can we do another??” he asked, though his smile dimmed a bit when he saw the apologetic look you wore. “Sorry, kiddo. You’ll have to give me a while - I’m out of powder. But I’ll tell you what - once I get this bad boy to Damien, I’ll get some more powder and a few pieces of wood, and you can make your own piece, how’s that sound?”

“Seriously?”

"Hey, have I ever gone back on my word?" You asked, looking out at the cul-de-sac. The sun had begun it’s descent to the western horizon, and soon the neighborhood would be lit up and golden. “How about we have a fire? Then I can keep an eye on you till your dad gets back, and you can burn some stuff.” “I don’t need a babysitter.” Ernest rolled his eyes, but he didn’t snap the words at you, so you didn’t think he was annoyed enough to stomp off. “But you do like burning things,” you shrugged, moving toward the old fridge you’d pushed up beside the door leading into the house. “You’re welcome to a soda, if you want one.” Plucking up a small plastic cooler, you grabbed a container of kerosine, intending to squirt a little on your fire pit to get it started. When you reached for your lighter, and found it missing, it appeared instead by your face, held out by a kid who looked to be trying desperately to appear as if he wasn’t interested. A smile tugged at your lips, and you took the offered lighter. “Thanks, kiddo.” Ernest shrugged, sitting in one of the lawn chairs before standing and scooting it closer to the fire pit. You noticed a can in his hand and your grin widened. Once the fire was lit, you pulled out a can for yourself and sat in the other chair, sighing softly as you relaxed. 

“Man, you’re so much cooler than Hugo,” Ernest groaned, leaning back on his chair. You winced in sympathy for your neighbor, carding a hand through your hair. “Hey, your dad is very cool,” you insisted, earning a look that clearly asked if you were serious. “I mean it! Just because he’s more reserved and cautious than I am, doesn’t mean that he’s not cool. He’s just… Hugo is more or less the Jamie to my Adam.” Ernest looked at you blankly and you sighed, shaking your head. “Look. Hugo’s your dad. I’m not. Hugo’s the one who has to be responsible for you - It’s not any more fun being the parent that has to be responsible all the time than it is being the kid being told what to do. Your dads have been divorced how long now?”

“... year and a half,” Ernest muttered, looking uncomfortably into his soda can.

“Exactly. That’s not a lot of time to find a proper balance between Fun Supportive Dad and Authoritarian Dad. My spouse died when Amanda was still a kid, so I’ve had most of her life to figure it out and get it right, and I still don’t get it right all the time. 

“Your dad doesn’t like to do anything hastily, and I like to do everything incredibly hastily. So therein you have the dichotomy of our patterns,” you hummed, picking up your soda and taking a swig. “There’s a difference between being a good dad and a good parent. They’re not mutually exclusive, but it’s hard to strike a balance. Good parents make sure you’re eating healthy and getting good grades and learning the right lessons. Good dads… hm. Good dads…"

You trailed off, seeing out of the corner of your eye how Ernest was looking at you. Nervous, but thoughtful. Pensive. You shook your head, deciding to try another explanation.

"Okay, stop me if I start to sound patronizing."

"Kay," he agreed, seeming to brace himself. You took a deep breath, hoping beyond hope that you could word this right.

"Hugo is a single parent now. He's so emotionally invested in, and drained by, raising you right, that he doesn't have the energy to do the fun stuff that you get to do with your other dad. 

"Your other dad? He's probably more like me. But he gets to see you on the weekends. Hugo has you all week during the school year. He's the one who has to… to make sure you get up on time, to make sure you get your homework done. And because Hugo does that, your other dad doesn't have to worry about it, so he can focus on taking you fun places and doing cool stuff with you, the way I do. There's no doubt in my mind that Hugo would love to encourage a safe level of pyromania, or go to events with you, but he's busy making sure you have the capacity to be a functional adult when the time comes.”

"Okay, I… I see your point. But it's not like I'm asking him to spend time with me and my friends, or- or go to a concert with me,” he didn’t emphasize the point, but you still caught the jab. You hadn’t been able to convince Hugo to let him come to that concert with you and Lucien, and you had been worried that he was a little bitter about it. “I mean - that stuff might be nice if he wasn’t so lame. I just want him to let me do stuff with my friends. Like, trust me once in a while, y’know?” “Okay. I know how this is gonna sound, but… you gotta prove he can trust you. Kiddo, you’re a pyro in the making, and that can be scary for a parent. You gotta show him that you’re smart enough to be trusted with safety stuff. Same with school stuff, same with friend stuff. The more good decisions you make, the more he’ll trust you to make more good decisions.” Ernest sighed. Not exactly exasperated, but not exactly resigned either. “I know it’s not easy, but you don’t have to get it right away,” you assured gently, taking another swig of your soda. “And you can still do stupid dangerous shit sometimes, because stupid dangerous shit is fun and ridiculous and I know you’re never gonna fully stop.”

Your talk with Ernest lasted a lot longer than you expected, the western sky had dulled from cool blue to a soft violet once the sun sank below the horizon, and stars began to fleck the sky. You weren’t sure when the kid dozed off, but when you looked over at him, his face had gone slack and peaceful. You silently thanked the powers that be that he’d put his can in the cupholder. A flash of movement caught your eye, and you craned your neck to the side of the house, spotting a familiar figure poking his head around the corner.

“Hugo, hey,” you greeted, waving him over. The teacher tentatively made his way across the lawn, standing just behind your chair to the side opposite Ernest. “I was just coming by to ask if you’d seen him,” he confessed awkwardly, looking at his son. “He’s been here since about noon, when I stopped him from blowing up Joseph’s bins,” you grinned. Hugo gave a soft groan, rubbing his face in exasperation. “MC, I’m so sorry-” “No, don’t be! We had a great time,” you assured, giving him a grin. “I showed him my new piece, and we had a chat.” Hugo frowned curiously, but nodded, and ran a hand through his hair. You offered him a soda and he took it, seemingly without thinking “Once I get the supplies, I told him we could do some gunpowder painting. You should join us.” Hugo very nearly choked on his soda.

“Relax, it’s all very safe,” you promised, laughing softly as he recovered. “I showed him the piece I was making for Damien and he seemed interested. Might be a good outlet for the firestarter tendency.” “I see. I don’t know if I…” “Just give it a shot? It might be something fun for you guys to do together.”

Hugo gave pause, looking between you two, and you smiled when he nodded after a moment’s hesitation. “I’ll… I'll think about it,” he agreed. Smiling, you leaned over, gently shaking Ernest’s arm. “Kiddo. C’mon, time for you to head home.” Ernest grunted, half asleep even as he pushed out of his chair. Hugo moved to place a hand on his back, and either from sheer tiredness or some shade of incredible wakefulness, he didn’t push out of Hugo’s grip. “Thank you, MC.” “Anytime. I’ll let you know when I get more powder, kay, Ernest?”

The teen nodded, allowing Hugo to guide him back out of the yard. You really hoped you hadn’t gone too far today. You wanted good things for your neighbors, and you wanted to help them however you could. Hopefully you could do that without overstepping. You sighed softly, looking up at the stars spattered across the night sky and the cinders that rose from the fire. Hopefully you could help without anyone getting burned.

[controloffandoms]

Heart Breakers (P.P./S.M.)

Prompt: I’m still on my Endgame fics….But this one is with a twist. Your soulmate feels everything you do, emotions, pain, etc. 

Pairing: Spiderman x Stark!reader

Words: 4528

Warnings: Major character deaths, Endgame spoilers (kinda), violence, depressed reader

Notes: In this, after the characters turn to ash, they continue to age so that they come out as they would have already been five years later.

Seven Years Ago

You trailed after the spider boy. Your father was currently dealing with another problem. The ‘Spider Man’ was fighting a man who called himself ‘The Vulture’. You winced as you saw the ship split in two. You hurried over, grabbing the ship and pulling to keep it together. Peter was still a whiles away from the ship. “Any time now, Parker,” you muttered. 

Once he swung into the ship and began to hold it together, you worked on melting the metal back together. You groaned slightly as your arms twinged in pain, but brushed it off as you holding the boat together as long as you did. Once the ship was relatively back together, you and Parker got back to the city. “Seriously, why have you been following me around all day? It doesn’t mean anything unless you’re actually in that suit, Mr. Stark.”

You rolled your eyes, letting your helmet fold down into the suit. “Dad told me to make sure you were okay while he was gone. That’s what I’m doing. And, if you didn’t notice, I kept that ship together long enough for you to get there and hold it together while I welded it back together. If I hadn’t been there, that ship would have gone down.”

Peter just looked at you before he rolled his eyes. “I don’t need a watchdog.”

“I never said I was a watchdog. I’m simply here for when you need help. I’m not going to involve myself in every single thing you do. Most people would be happy to have me watching their back,” you rolled your eyes with a sigh. 

Peter shook his head. “I don’t need your help. I’m doing fin-”

The wind was knocked out of you at the same time Peter was hit dead on by vulture. It took you a second to regain your breath, another second to process that you hadn’t been hit, and another second to go chasing after the Vulture. “Hey, birdbrain!” You knocked him off Peter, grabbing Peter’s arm so he wouldn’t fall. 

You set Peter on a roof top to allow him to do his thing. You continued after Vulture. You lost sight of him and slowed your flying down to be able to properly look for him. A yell from your left caught you off guard. The Vulture pounced on you, causing you to freefall, hitting the ground with enough force to jar your head. You groaned as the Vulture’s claws found a weaker part in the arm piece. It was beginning to cut into your skin. You raised your other arm, blasting him off of you.

Peter was behind the Vulture, attacking him. You took a second to get a breath and got up. You rushed Vulture, kicking him into the side of a building. With both you and Peter working together, you were able to subdue the Vulture. You put in a call to Fury to have him pick up the man that Peter had webbed up snugly to a light post. “Are you alright,” Peter asked, motioning to your arm. You could see the blood slowly seeping out from the broken metal. 

“This is going to be a bitch to get off, but I’ll be fine. Hazard of the job.” You wanted to ask if he felt it too, but you didn’t want to be too hopeful. “Are you alright? Vulture plowed into you at full speed earlier.”

“I heal pretty quickly.”

You nodded. You sighed before letting the helmet down again. “Would you like to come back to the tower with me? I think we both need to talk.”

__________________

Five Years Ago

You watched as the metal wheel thing descended from the sky. “What the hell is that,” you asked your dad. 

“I don’t know.” You both raced off towards it. 

You let the suit disassemble into the jewelry you wore as your father talked with Bruce and some wizard guy you didn’t know. You felt a sense of calm envelop you and smiled slightly, knowing it was Peter sending it to you. You had no doubt that he’d seen the alien ship and would be on his way. 

You stepped closer to the ship...it was interesting tech from what you could see. You didn’t see the alien that stepped out of the ship, nor did you hear his voice...you were too interested in the alien tech. You realized your mistake too late, grunting at the impact of the wall. You got up, glaring at the one that had hit you. “That was rude.” You let your suit form around you again, “let me return the favor.” 

You blasted the alien’s ass to kingdom come. “Jackass,” you muttered as you landed beside your father and the others. The helmet retracted and you glared at the alien in front of you. “Are you going to be a jackass as well? I’ll happily kick your ass if that’s the case.” 

You don’t know how long you and the others had been fighting the aliens from the metal wheel, but suddenly it was taking off and you couldn’t breathe. You clasped a hand to your throat, collapsing to your knees. Bruce was by your side in seconds trying to talk to you, but you couldn’t hear him over your panic. Peter couldn’t breathe. Peter couldn’t breathe. Peter couldn’t breathe.

Then, Peter could breathe. You could breathe again. “He’s lucky I made a suit for him,” your father called through the coms.

“Sorry about that, Love,” Peter stated. 

“It’s okay. I’ll head up to the ship and-”

“No, I’ve already got one teenager to look after, I don’t want to be worried about you. Stay with Bruce.” 

“Dad-”

“I need you down there because I know you can make the tech they need. I need you to trust me.”

“And we’ll be back before you know it, (Y/N/N),” Peter added. 

You sighed. “Stay safe, both of you. And I love you both,” it felt awkward to say it, but you didn’t know when you’d see them again...or if you’d see them again.

“I love you,” Peter immediately responded.

“I love you too, kid,” your father added.

__________________

You watched Thanos’ forces hitting the barrier around Wakanda. You’d already given all the tech you’d made out to its rightful owners. It was now about time for the battle. You looked at the person who was gripping your arm. Steve Rogers, one of your dad’s best friends. “You alright, (Y/N)?” 

“Thanos’ army is trying to find ways into Wakanda, we’re about to go through the fight of our lives, I have no idea where Peter and my father are, and no idea where Thanos is. Not to mention that Vision wants us to kill him if we can’t get the mind stone out of his head in time to protect it.” You let out a shaky breath, “I’m just peachy.”

“We’re not going to let him win easily.”

You nodded. “Rig-ugh,” you clutch your stomach. “I think Peter found Thanos,” you mumbled. You were finally able to get a full breath in. You stood back up, rubbing a hand over your sore stomach. “I hope everyone here that has soulmates that aren’t heroes are happy about the fact. Because it really fucking sucks sometimes,” you stated as your head began to pound. 

Steve’s hand clutched your shoulder in sympathy. “If you need to, you can go watch Shuri and Vision to ensure their safety and we’ll deal with the army.”

You shook your head. “No, I can do this.”

With that, the games begin. You had never seen so many adversaries in one place. You took to the skies, taking the alien creatures down one by one. You and Sam tag teamed a group of the aliens before getting separated again. “Watch your back, Stark,” T’challa called. You turned in time to deflect the alien. 

That left you open from the front, and you went tumbling down. The impact with the added weight of the alien caused the metal around your abdomen to crush inward, causing you to bite back a scream. You blasted the alien, instantly killing him. You were thrown back into the trees from another attack. Then you were pushed further back into a clearing. 

You moved in time to miss the next attack. With a couple of well placed blasts, you took care of the alien. “Everyone alright,” Cap asked those that were gathered in the clearing by this point. 

Mumbles of ‘yeahs’ and ‘mostly’ went up through the group. You all turned to the portal that opened, letting Thanos through. You didn’t pay attention to what was said. You had to take him down before he could get to Vision. He couldn’t get the last stone. 

Pushing the pain away, you charged Thanos from the back, picking the titan up before unibeaming him back into the Earth. As you went in for another hit, Thanos grabbed your boot, throwing you into the ground multiple times before pulling you to face him. “So you’re Stark’s daughter. He kept telling me that no matter if I defeated him, you would defeat me. I don’t see how you could.” 

He ripped away at your suit. “You are nothing more than a human in a power suit.” He used a piece of your suit as a sword, burying it deep within you abdomen. You couldn’t control the scream that ripped from your throat at the pain that followed it. Thanos threw you to the side, no longer worried about you. 

You must have blacked out for a little while because when you woke up, Vision was dead, his mind stone on the Infinity Gauntlet. Thanos was talking to Thor who’s ax was protruding from Thanos’ chest. “You should...you...you should have gone for the head,” it was like it was all in slow motion as Thanos snapped his fingers.

It was the most unimaginable pain you’d ever felt. You could tell Peter’s ‘spidey sense’ was picking up that he was going to die. It was agonizing. During this time, you had pulled yourself into a sitting position, clutching the piece of metal stuck in your body. You couldn’t hear anything, all you could focus on was Peter and how he was dying. 

It was like the whole world just stopped. Tears were flowing down your face and your mouth was open, but you couldn’t tell if you were screaming or not...your hearing hadn’t come back to you yet. You gripped the metal in your body tighter, pulling it from your abdomen. You stood, determined. Peter was dead, and it was Thanos’ fault. 

The world came back to you almost as quickly as it had left. Thor was screaming at Thanos...it was a good distraction. “He’s dead because of you,” you shouted, jumping and shoving the metal through Thanos’ neck. He sputtered, looking at you with wider eyes. You shoved the metal even further in. You couldn’t stop him as he closed his fist and teleported away, but that didn’t stop you from trying. 

Thor pulled you away once he realized what was going to happen. He didn’t want you to teleport with him, you were hurt. You fought against him, even when Thanos was gone. Finally, you collapsed on yourself, sobs leaving your broken body. “Peter’s dead,” you kept muttering over and over. 

_________________

Present Day

Since Peter’s death, you’d distanced yourself from everyone. There was a time where you had hope that you would all figure out how to bring everyone back, but that had long since passed. Every day you woke up, thinking Peter would be making breakfast or would run through the door and apologize for being away for so long. Your mood would only darken from there. Most days you didn’t leave the bed.

You got up slowly and cleaned up a bit. After a shower, you pushed yourself to get something to eat. You don’t think you’ve eaten in three days and you knew that Peter would want you to take care of yourself. As you finished the meager breakfast you’d made, you were going to go back to your room but someone knocked at your door. You thought about ignoring it, but with the persistent knocking, you knew they wouldn’t leave any time soon.

You opened the door, not bothering to look up at the person standing in the doorway. You turned and walked back into the apartment. “Kid, you can’t live like this.”

You rolled your eyes, deciding to clean the dishes in the sink while your father walked around the apartment. “You have a family. You have a-” you cleared your throat, willing the tears away, “you have a soulmate. You don’t get to judge my life since you don’t know what it’s like losing the person you’re meant to be with.” Your voice cracked a lot from not being used and probably from some of the emotions you were feeling.

“I know I can’t relate to that, but you have to take care of yourself. Peter’s not going to want to see you withered away when we bring him back.” The plate you had been holding clattered into the sink, breaking. Your back was tense. “We came up with a plan...but we need your help. You know tech better than I do sometimes. I need your help to build a machine to help us get our friends and family back.”

You took a deep breath, willing your heart not to hope. If this wasn’t true, you couldn’t be hurt again. “Don’t play on my emotions like that,” you ground out. 

“We’re not. We think we can at least get everyone that turned to ash back, (Y/N),” you hadn’t seen Steve come in. 

You finally looked at the small group that stood in your apartment. Steve Rogers, Bruce Banner, Natasha Romanoff, and your father, Tony Stark. Their faces were a mix of hope and determination. You bit your lip, shaking your head. “What do you need me to build?”

_________________

You took a deep breath, messing one last time with the wires to make sure everything was correct. You didn’t want to end up doing damage to anyone that tested the machine. You’d run the calculations hundreds of times, went over the wiring even more, and you were still a nervous mess. “Okay...this is as ready as it’s ever going to be.” 

Tony came over to you, pulling you into a hug. “It’s going to work. You built it. I have all the faith in the world in you...so have faith in yourself.” 

You nodded. After Peter had died, all your Stark charm was gone. You just couldn’t find it in yourself to care about anything. How could you go on with your old life without Peter being there? You dipped into that Stark charm to put on a brave face. You were going to get everyone back. “Alright. Two minutes and I’m pulling you back.” 

“See you when we get back,” Steve stated to everyone as he took his place. 

You sent them through, worry eating at your insides. This plan was crazy. As the two minutes ended, you hit a couple of buttons on the machine, sighing as you saw everyone start to reemerge. You did a head count, eyes narrowing as you saw one was missing. “Where’s Nat, did I lose her,” you asked, trying again and again to get her signal on the machine, but getting nothing.

Clint just shook his head. “Sacrificed herself for the Soul stone.”

It was silent as everyone took in the information. “Then we need to make damn sure we get everyone else back. She didn’t die for us to fail,” you stated. “Bruce, you’re going to wield the gauntlet. With the Hulk on your side, you should be able to survive if you snap.” You started to ramble on about the logistics and calculations you had done to ensure that he was the only one who could snap and survive, but a hand on your shoulder had you close your mouth. 

“I understand the logic, (Y/N). I’ll do it.” You handed him a gauntlet, nodding to the others to put the stones in the gauntlet. “Alright, let’s get everyone back.”

You walked over to your dad...you really hoped this worked. If it did...Peter would come back to you. He placed an arm over your shoulders before pressing a bracelet into your hand. You looked down, noticing the colors of your suit. You slipped the bracelet on and warily watched Bruce as he used the power of the gauntlet. 

Did it work? You suited up as you saw Bruce go down, grabbing the gauntlet and pulling it from his hand. You dropped it almost immediately as the power started to flow through you, weakening you. You dropped down the Bruce as Steve asked him if he was alright. He asked if it worked. “I-I think so.”

The next few moments were filled with confusion and you weren’t clear on exactly what happened. You winced as you stood up. The suit had retracted back into the bracelet. You coughed, placing your hand on the wall as the dust started to settle. What the hell happened? 

You made your way towards the light of the outside world. You winced, trying to get your eyes to adjust. Once they did, you zoned in on Thanos. He beat down your father, Steve, and Thor easily. Oh he was yours. The suit formed around you and you took off, aiming directly for Thanos and hitting your mark, making you both fly several yards in the direction you were going. 

You placed both hands on either side of his head and blasted your repulsors, rendering him momentarily out of commission as he couldn’t see or hear. You brought your metallic fist down on his face, over and over for how much pain he had caused you over the past five years. Just as your fist was going to meet his face again, his hand shot up and grabbed it. 

He threw you around like it was nothing, putting dents in your armor. He even started to tear parts of it away before Thor was on him again. Some time in the fight with Thanos, you’d lost your helmet and part of your torso armor. You took a few deep breaths as you took stock of the situation. Thanos’ army was pouring from the sky, Thanos was occupied with getting the infinity stones, and everyone besides Thor was fighting the army.

As Thor was thrown away from Thanos and bombarded by the alien army, you went for Thanos again. You wouldn’t let him win again. You were so focused on Thanos that you didn’t even notice the orange circles in the distance that let more warriors through to fight the army. “You honestly think you can defeat me. That’s laughable. I am the most powerful being in the universe, you are nothing but an ant beneath my feet.”

“I never said that I was the one that would defeat you. I’m just one of those ‘ants’ that will lead to your downfall.” You gave it everything you had, landing quite a few good hits. Thanos, on the other hand, landed a lot more punches than you did. 

Blood dripped down from a couple of head lacerations you had acquired. You wouldn’t give up though. You began to push yourself up again but Thanos put his foot on your already crushed chest plate and raised his sword. “I’ll admit you gave me a good workout. But I’m through with your games.” As he brought the sword down, it was intercepted by Sam Wilson.

You stared at Sam as he pushed Thanos away from you. “You-You’re back.”

“Damn right I am,” he responded before taking off again. It took a second to sink in. If Sam was back, then so was Peter. 

When you came back to your senses, you could feel his worry through the soul bond. He was worried for you. At your sudden spike of happiness, you could feel his confusion. Your Peter was back. You got up, looking around you. You didn’t see Thanos, you didn’t see Peter, but you knew he was there. 

You sent all your love through the bond as you got back into the battle, taking down alien after alien with renewed vigor. 

Finally you spotted Peter. You landed in front of him, blasting the aliens that surrounded him to pieces. Not seeing anymore aliens coming towards you, you turned to Peter. You were lost for words. He looked older than the last time you’d seen him. It was like he had aged while he’d been dusted. “It worked,” you whispered, reaching out to place a hesitant hand on his cheek.

He nuzzled into your hand, eyes closing in content. Your other hand went to his other cheek and you brought him into a bruising kiss. You didn’t realize that you’d started crying until Peter’s thumbs were wiping them away after you’d separated. “I missed you so much,” you cried.

Feeling your pain through the bond, he hugged you tighter, placing gentle kisses across your face. “I’m so sorry. I am so sorry I left you. It won’t ever happen again.” He placed a kiss on your lips again. “I love you.”

“I love you so much more,” you responded. 

At the sound of aliens being fought off near the both of you, you both broke out of your haze. “I’m glad you two have reunited, but can the rest of your makeout session wait until we’ve taken care of Thanos and his army,” Steve asked. 

You and Peter looked at each other, giving a quick kiss and getting back to the battle at hand.

__________________

You don’t know what caught your attention first: Thanos or your father. Everything was in slow motion as you raced to get to your father. He wouldn’t be able to wield the stones and survive. “And I. Am. Iron Man,” he snaps his fingers and the army starts to turn to dust. 

Seconds later, you land next to him, panicking. “Dad-why did you-why did you do that? We could have...please don’t go,” you cried, hands shaking as Tony took them. 

“It’s okay. I-I know you can make it. You and-You and Morgan are my greatest legacy, I know you’ll teach her everything she needs to know.” You couldn’t stop the tears, body shaking. “I love you, Squeaky.”

You buried your face in his neck. “I love you, Iron Dad.”

Peter was now by your side, and he didn’t look much better than you. You couldn’t pay attention to what they were saying to each other. The feeling in your chest nearly knocked the breath out of your body. You held your father’s hand until you could see his chest stop moving. 

Your hands shook as you released the hand you’d been holding. You needed something to break. You needed something to take your mind off of the fact that your father was dead. You needed to hurt so you could forget what the pain in your chest feels like. It was a pain you’d been living with for the past five years, you couldn’t handle feeling it a second longer. 

You ignored the people that reached out for you as you flew back to the trashed Avenger’s compound. It wasn’t long before you were doing enough damage that it could easily be seen from where the group was surrounding Tony. It didn’t take a person with super hearing to hear your screams as you continued to demolish the already crumbling building with your suit. 

From the expression on Peter’s face, the group knew he was feeling all of the pain you were. Steve placed a hand on Peter’s shoulder, squeezing slightly. As the damage started to die down, they thought you would come out. When you didn’t, they looked to Peter for an explanation. 

Peter rubbed his hands that were starting to sting. He decided to stop you before you seriously hurt yourself. He webbed himself to the compound and quickly found you. Your suit had run out of power, and now you were using your bare hands to let all the emotions out. 

Peter gripped your hands in his before you could go back to hitting the wall. You struggled against him, trying to get free. He brought you into his embrace as you fought it, hitting his chest. Slowly, you started to settle down, sobbing into Peter’s chest. His own tears fell with the combination of what you were feeling along with his own pain at watching the father figure he’d come to love die after just reuniting with him.

“We’ll get through this together. Don’t shut me out.” He held you tighter as you did the same.

_________________

Ten Months Later

You sent a text to Peter telling him to finally bring the surviving Avengers and their families to your secret project. You had been working this since your father’s funeral. You made sure you had all of the snacks and drinks out...it was the grand opening of the new Avenger’s compound and you couldn’t have a grand opening without snacks and drinks.

You quickly walked outside, seeing the cover still over the monument and smiling slightly. You hoped everyone liked it. You had taken it from a photo that the group had taken before Thanos was ever a problem for anyone. You’d even gotten a picture of Loki from Thor after hearing what Loki did for him. 

You watched as the cars started to pull in. You smirked at their wowed expressions...they hadn’t even seen the best part yet. Peter walked over to you, pressing a kiss to your head. You gave Morgan a hug as she walked over to you excitedly. “I would like to introduce you to the Avengers Memorial Headquarters. I figured we all needed a place we could come to talk, train, debrief, et cetera.”

You felt you suit spread across your body. “I would also like to introduce our Memorial...for all the brave and heroic things they did for us and the world.” You pulled the cover off from the top of the statue. Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Natasha Romanoff, and Loki all stared back at the group. 

You landed next to Peter, the suit retracting. You leaned into his embrace as those assembled walked closer to the memorial. “This is amazing, (Y/N),” Pepper stated. 

“Thank you, Lady (Y/N),” Thor gave you a bone crushing hug. 

You laughed lightly. “I know nothing can top that reveal, but I have a whole facility to show you guys. There are also some light snacks and refreshments set up.”

It still hurt to think of the people you’d lost because of Thanos...but it was becoming easier to cope with. Everything you were to do in the future, you did because of them...and you weren’t going to let their sacrifices be in vain.

Forever Tags

@miraclesoflove @way-ward-whale @avengersss-assembleee @nocturnalherb16

[kloxbian]

You’re my Little Secret Chapter Two

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Category: F/F

Fandoms: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan

Relationship: Clarke Griffin/Lexa

Characters: Clarke Griffin, Lexa (The 100), Octavia Blake, Bellamy Blake, Anya (The 100), Mountain Men (The 100)

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe, Forbidden Love, Secret Relationship, Grounder Clarke Griffin, Sort Of, Opposite of slowburn, More tags to be added

Language: English

Words:11603

Chapters (as of 1/28/2020): 5/?

Previous Chapter: “You’re too loud.” Clarke froze, almost dreading looking behind her. The voice was unfamiliar, one she hadn’t heard from the delinquents, but then again, there were a hundred of them. She likely hadn’t met them all. She decidedly ignored whoever thought they could do a better job. She heard a snort of laughter. “You’re too heavy on your feet. Your breath is too loud. You’re unaware of where you’re placing your feet.”

“Alright, would you stop-” Clarke turned around and felt all the breath rush from her body as her eyes met with a familiar pair of jade orbs.

Clarke’s heart stuttered to a stop as she stared at the girl in front of her.

This couldn’t be real. It was impossible. No one could have survived the radiation. Clarke stepped back, shaking her head. “That’s it. I’m insane.”

She heard the girl laugh lightly. “You are not insane, Skaigada. I am quite real.”

Clarke watched her warily. “How? How could people survive? The amount of radiation left after the missiles was lethal. No one should be able to live out here.”

The girl tilted her head curiously. “You live out here, do you not?”

“I-yes, but- have you lived outside your whole life?” “I have. And so have my parents and their parents before them.”

Clarke’s head was swimming with this new information. They weren’t the only people left? They could have survived on the ground for the last few generations? Also, the fact that they now shared a forest with a group of unknowns. “Do your people live around here?”

The girl narrowed her eyes. “Sha. Your Skai ship fell on our territory.”

Clarke held her hands up. “We’re really sorry about that. Truly. We didn’t choose to land here. Hell, we didn’t even know people lived down here. We thought we were the last people alive.”

“‘Down here?’ You did not live ‘down here’ before?”

Clarke shook her head. “No. We lived in space.” At the other girl’s visible confusion, Clarke amended her statement. “Up there. In the sky.”

“Impossible.”

“It’s not!” Clarke huffed in frustration. “It’s- you know what, this doesn’t matter right now. Would you happen to know the best route to get to that mountain over there?”

The girl looked to where Clarke was pointing and stepped back, her hand resting on the hilt of- a sword? “Why do you wish to know? Do you hope to go there? Is that where your people come from?”

“What? No. No, we didn’t come from there. But we think it has resources and want to get there so we’ll have somewhere to survive. We don’t know how to survive out here.”

The girl smiled a bit. “I’ve noticed. I do hope you know that people already inhabit that mountain.”

“They do?” Clarke perked up. “Is it your people? Will they help us?”

The girl practically growled, her hand clenching the hilt of her sword. “Those ripas are not my people!”

“Woah. Calm down. I didn’t mean to offend you.” Clarke looked back at the mountain with a new interest. “You don’t seem to like the people who live there.”

“The maunon are murderers who steal our people and turn them into monsters before sending them back to kill those they once loved.”

Clarke was taken aback. “What? How?”

“We do not know. No one has ever returned from being a ripa.”

Clarke didn’t know how to follow what had turned to a much darker conversation. She glanced at the mountain again, trying to imagine the people inside.

She looked back at the girl. She had her head held confidently and seemed perfectly at ease in the forest, something Clarke could not admit to. She had her head tilted slightly as she watched Clarke.

“Are you the leader of your tribe?” Clarke started a bit, surprised at suddenly being spoken to.

“Not necessarily. I’m trying, but no one wants to listen.”

The girl snorted in amusement. “I noticed. They do not seem to care about their inevitable death.”

“Exactly,” Clarke muttered under her breath before she realized exactly what had been said. “Wait, how would you know that?”

“I have been watching you, Klark kom Skaikru,” she said, moving slowly closer. “You would be a much better leader than the other boy. Bellomi, I believe.”

“Yes.” Clarke shifted nervously, not entirely comfortable with this unknown girl in front of her. “Exactly how much do you know? About us?”

“As much as I need to. You do not know how to survive. You are no threat to us, not as long as you stay the way you are.” She raised her chin up, looking down her nose at Clarke. “You could change that, though. If you were to take charge.”

Clarke was getting confused. “You sound like you want me to take charge.”

“I do.”

“Why? If we would become a threat, then why?”

“Because I have now met you.” Her eyes glistened with interest as she scanned Clarke up and down. “I would not have shown myself to you if I didn’t have a purpose.”

“And what would that purpose be?”

“To ally my tribe with yours.”

-

“What?” Clarke sighed heavily, rubbing her temples. This was getting to be too much. “Why? What could we do for you?”

“In all truthfulness, not much.” The girl looked to the mountain, a frown forming on her face. “But you could do much for others, others who, with your tek, could become an even greater force. I do not want our enemies to get ahold of your tek.”

“We don’t have much of it. What could it do for your enemies?”

“I have seen the one you call Bellomi using his ‘gun,’” she said, the word sounding awkward on her tongue. “In the wrong hands, it could be a weapon of massacre.”

Clarke realized that this girl didn’t know the gun was out of shots, but she didn’t bother correcting her. If these people became hostile, they’d need the leverage. “Okay. Then how do you want to work this ‘allies’ thing?”

“For now, all we need it a mutual agreement to not provoke the other side. I would recommend keeping this from your people for a time until everything is figured out.”

“Wait a minute,” Clarke said. “How would that benefit us?”

The girl cocked her head as she thought. “I suppose I could help provide you with food.”

“Okay. And what do you mean keep it from my people? Why would I keep a whole population hidden from them?”

“Your people are unorganized, unprepared for political moves such as other nations. They would act rashly, especially Bellomi. I fear they would try and attack us. If that were to happen, I would be unable to prevent my people from retaliating.”

Clarke considered. “Okay. Just for now.”

“Very good. Before we part,” the girl reached into her pack and pulled out the rabbit Clarke had failed to catch, a bloody wound on its back boasting its death. “Have this. An act of goodwill, say.”

“Thanks, I guess.” Clarke took the rabbit and weighed it in her hands before she noticed the other girl slipping away. “Hold on.”

She paused. “Yes?”

“I never got your name.” At the girl’s odd look, Clarke elaborated. “You know my name. Shouldn’t you return the favor?”

A beat of silence passed between them and Clarke worried she had overstepped some unseen boundary before the girl answered. “Leksa.” She was gone ere Clarke could say another word.

-

“Lexa.” The name was an unfamiliar one, short and simple, but Clarke liked it in that aspect. She had the rabbit tucked under an arm as she walked back and went over what had just happened.

People. There were whole tribes of people out there, not just surviving, but dealing in politics and other things that Clarke had never thought she’d have to be a part of, not on the ground. And though she hated having to deal with this alone, she knew she couldn’t tell anyone. Not even Octavia. They weren’t ready to hear this, especially not Bellamy’s followers. Octavia, Finn, sure, they’d deal with it fine, but Clarke didn’t trust them. Not yet. Not with something so big.

She got back to camp and the first thing she saw was people crowded around the fire, cheering on something she couldn’t see. Her fellow survivalists were away from the action, seemingly disagreeing with whatever was going on. Clarke went straight to them.

“Clarke! Thank god you’re back,” Octavia said, running up to her. “Bellamy and Murphy are removing everyone’s wristbands.”

“What?” She set the rabbit down on a bin, ignoring Jasper’s exclamation of joy at the prospect of fresh meat and marched over to the fire, pushing through the crowd. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Murphy looked up from whoever’s wristband he was trying to pop off. “What does it look like, Princess? We’re freeing ourselves from the bastards that sent us down here.”

“They’ll think you’re dead.”

“That’s the point,” Murphy deadpanned, pushing down hard on the piece of metal wedged beneath the wristband. It cracked open, and the crowd cheered.

Clarke scowled, pushing over to where Bellamy stood behind Murphy. “Why are you letting him do this?”

“Because, Princess,” he said, rolling his eyes, “We don’t want them coming down here after us. They say they’ll pardon us from our crimes, well, they’re lying. We like being free of their rules, free of all rules. Down here, we can do whatever the hell we want, whenever the hell we want!”

The delinquents roared in agreement, throwing out slurs toward the Ark, toward the chancellor, the council, her mother. Herself. Clarke scowled and, realizing she couldn’t stop this, pushed her way back out of the crowd.

Jasper was still poking and prodding at the rabbit but Monty turned to her, as well as Octavia, Wells, and Finn. “So?”

“It’s pointless,” Clarke said, looking back at the criminals. “They won’t stop.”

Octavia scoffed. “Guess we’ll be splitting this catch up ourselves.”

“It’s a good catch,” Monty said. Jasper nodded in agreement.

They started their own small fire, and Monty did his best to skin the meat before they strung it up over the fire. The smell alone drew over some of the delinquents, but Octavia kept them back. “You got your wristband? No? Then back the fuck up!”

They happily split the meat among the six of them, not nearly enough to sate them but it was the best food they’d in weeks, better than any of the beat that had ever been produced on the Ark. It was their first taste of actual meat and, though it was a little overcooked, it was the best Clarke had ever eaten.

Bellamy wasn’t very happy. “Clarke!” She sighed heavily and heard Octavia mutter ‘here we go again.’ “You got meat?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? Or share any of it?”

“I am sharing it,” she said blatantly. “And I didn’t tell you because you don’t seem to care much about whether you survive or not, so why bother?”

“Clarke-”

Octavia interrupted him. “Bellamy, why don’t you stop being an ass for two seconds and you catch your own food.”

Bellamy stood there scowling for a moment before he turned and called a couple of the boys to him, slipping off into the forest.

Clarke felt someone slide in beside her. “So, Princess, how’d you manage to catch this? I didn’t think you were the type to go hunting.”

Clarke raised an eyebrow at Finn, but seeing everyone else looking at her she answered. “Snuck up on it and stabbed it in the back.” Or, that was what she tried to do. Lexa was the one who’d done it.

Finn whistled. “Shit, Princess, that’s harsh.”

“Are you complaining?”

“No,” he said through his bite of rabbit meat.

Clarke turned back to her own food. “Thought so.”

She caught a glimpse of movement in the bushes and could feel a grin tugging at her lips when Lexa appeared. She hovered in the shadows, scanning the camp, and offered Clarke a smirk when she noticed her watching. Clarke grinned back as discreetly as she could before Lexa slipped back into the foliage.

“Clarke?” She focused back on the people around her, waving it off as nothing.

This would be a hell of a secret to keep.

Chapters 1-5 up on ao3 here.

First chapter on Tumblr here, third chapter here. 

[all-theimaginess]

We’re Inevitable - Part 3

Fandom: Newsies Pairing: eventual Davey x reader Word Count: ~2,000 Tag List: @helplessfor-fictionalcharacters @races-cigar @ghostiex-x @theresagoodchanceicouldfly @benniebadeend @rxcer @the-navistar-carol A/N: Hey everyone! I’m back with an update. I hope that you enjoy it. Taglist is still open! (Strikethrough means that your tag didn’t work)

Part One  Part Two -- Part Four

The day started with you waking up before dawn to find Jack gone. You soon remembered that Jack was most likely on his way to, or on the way back from, Brooklyn. Starting to wake-up more fully, you slowly got up. It wouldn’t be long before the morning bell rang and the newsies started getting up. Carefully, you made your way down the fire escape and rushed to Medda’s theater. Today would be an interesting day, you could just feel it. It didn’t matter how things ended up. After today, things would be different. The better or worse hadn’t been decided yet.

Although your room at Medda’s theater was technically an extra dressing room that was semi-attached to the costume closet, you were happy to call it home. Fabric was draped across chairs and the edges of the hanging rack in the corner that held unfinished and torn costumes.

Quickly, you flipped through the dresses on your clothes rack before deciding on one. The one you chose was care-worn, but maintained its simple charm. You smiled, catching your reflection in the mirror once you got the dress looking just the way you wanted. It would be perfect for whatever happened in the day ahead. You exited the theater just as the morning bell rang.

Most of the Manhattan newsies had yet to arrive when you reached newsies square. Your pace sped up you saw Jack standing with some of the other newsies in front of the ‘The World’ gate. As you made your way toward them, you noticed that none of the Brooklyners were there. Your expression faltered, but you refused to let any of the boys see any loss of hope. Optimism and perseverance would be everything if they had any hope of winning against Pulitzer and the other papers. Of course, more people wouldn’t hurt either, but the newsies would do the best with what they had. It was what they had always done. “Brooklyn waitin’ to make a dramatic entrance or something?” You asked sarcastically with a light chuckle.

The guys chuckled and nodded their heads in hello as you passed them. “What’d you do, leave the new kid in Brooklyn?” you asked Jack jokingly to cover your curiosity as to where Davey was.

“Hm?” Jack’s gaze focused on you, “Oh, nah. He just had to run home to get Les. Said he’d be right back.” Jack attempted to subtly, yet critically take a look at you. “You look nice...”

“Thanks,” you answer with simple caution, “So do you. Tryin’ to look nice for the papes, or the reporter?” you ask in a cheeky fashion. Casually, you glanced around to see if any other newsies had joined the group and more had.

Jack smirked, “I could ask you almost the same question.”

Your brows furrowed in fake confusion and shook your head. “I got no idea what you’re talking about..”

“Look, I get it. You’ve liked him for a long time, so you took this opportunity to look nice. Maybe you’se thinking that he’ll finally see what’s in front of him...” He pushed verbally, leaning forward slightly.

Anxiety coursed through your body. You were so busted. You were sure that Jack knew, but you had to try and play it off. You shrugged when he paused, acting casual. You wouldn’t say that you liked Davey for a long time, you met him almost a week ago. Wait, who was Jack talking about?

When you didn’t respond, Jack continued, “I just don’t want you getting hurt, alright? And if Racetrack hurts you, I’ll kill him, there ain't no doubt about that,” he smiled protectively, “But, I can’t stop you from going after somebody that makes you happy. ...Unless it’s a Delancey, then we’d talk.” Jack cracked a more easy-going smile and you chuckled. Jack continued with a tired grin,“I just want you to be happy.”

Relief washed through you. You weren't busted after all. “I know, you just want the best for me,” you smiled warmly. When all of this calmed down, you really needed to tell Jack what was going on with you. “Could you do me a favor and just not say nothin’?” There was already enough going on and you didn't feel like adding to the chaos. You looked around once more and noticed that Race, Buttons, and Finch had arrived.

“Not a problem. Tell him when youse is ready.” Jack smiled, and squeezed your upper arm.

“Tell who, what?”

You tensed at the newly familiar voice that came up from behind. You turned with an easy smile on your face. There was curiosity and a tinge of worry gracing Davey’s features. “Nothing. Everything’s fine. It’s nothing that can’t wait until this is through,” you reassured. Davey’s expression seemed to lighten. “I’m gonna go check in with some of the other newsies.”

“Yeah, you do that.” Jack sounded amused. You were sure that he thought you were looking for Racetrack, but in reality you knew that being seen interacting with Davey would more than likely give you away. That was something you just weren’t ready for.

~~Time skip~~

With Wiesel and the Delanceys gone to get reinforcements, there was a moment to breathe. All of the triumphant faces made your heart swell. You hadn’t even noticed that Katherine had arrived. Next thing you knew, you were being pulled into the photo by Davey. You posed and smiled as the flash of the camera felt like it temporarily blinded you.

Then suddenly, everyone was celebrating and hugging, some were even playfully throwing papers in the air. You happily turned and hugged Buttons, and then Racetrack, who embraced you tightly before he handed you pages of newspaper to toss with a playful smile.

All of the celebrating ended with the sound of two hits of a club against metal.

The chaos that ensued soon after was exhilarating and terrifying. Papes were flying, barrels and wagons were rolling, and everywhere you turned there were newsies fighting. Everything seemed to be going alright. The newsies seemed to be more than holding their own.

Then the cops showed up, and things turned ugly real fast.

Adrenaline pumped through your veins as you ran around, attempting to help and avoid the cops. Someone grabbed you at the waist and started to pull you away. Instantly, your instincts kicked in. You looked back to find that it was Morris, then turned quickly to elbow him in the face and stomp his foot. You didn’t have time to appreciate his look of surprise before you escaped from his embrace.

Newsies were starting to clear out of newsies square. Not fully paying attention, you run into Davey and Les. “Gotta stop meeting like this,” he said with a tired smile, “Follow me.”

“Where to?” You asked.

Davey grabbed your hand and smiled. “Trust me.”

-----------------------

The three of you ran a few blocks before figuring out that no one was chasing you.  Davey had yet to let go of your hand, and you hoped that he wouldn't any time soon. “It's so pretty here,” you noted, before looking over at Davey. He seemed to be carrying himself a certain way, the adrenaline wearing off. His pace slowed. Your gaze took in the park that you had no idea existed while Davey guided you slowly to a nearby bench, without you realizing he let go of your hand when he sat down.

You looked over to find Davey sitting rigidly and looking up at you. Les was sitting on the grass beside the bench. You looked discreetly down at your hand and smiled fondly. When you looked back at Davey’s posture, you figured out that was feeling some pain was starting to set in. Your smile faded with worry as you sat close to him. “Are you alright?” You asked, turning yourself to take him in.

“Yeah, I just need a moment,” he sighed tiredly and glanced over at his younger brother. “Les, you alright?”

Les was holding onto his left arm as he looked up at Davey. “My arm hurts a bit.”

Your lips pursed as you leaned slightly over Davey. “If you two can handle it, I should have fabric back at the theatre to make a sling. It ain’t too far from here, I think,” you offered, leaning back to where you were.

The Jacobs brothers shared glances, silently debating before coming to a conclusion moments later. “Alright, lead on.” Davey stated, slowly rising from the bench before helping Les.

-----

Getting back to the theatre took slightly longer than you thought it would. You sighed in relief when you finally reached your destination. “Home sweet home,” you smiled triumphantly before opening the door to the costume closet that was attached to your living quarters. “Feel free to sit anywhere that there isn’t stray fabric.” You casually picked up pieces of fabric to clear seating options while also keeping an eye out for one that would work for Les.

You returned triumphant minutes later with a random piece of neutral looking fabric and an ice pack for Davey. You handed Davey the ice pack and crouched down close in front of Les and gestured for his arm, the fabric ready. He winced in pain as you maneuvered the fabric to where it needed to be. You checked with Les before tying the sling closed. He said that it felt good and thanked you for your help. “It’s the least I can do,” you smiled, “Now, you try to relax. And, no more fights, Okay?” Les nodded tiredly and relaxed back into his seat.

Up until now, you had been trying not to think about the fact that you had been able to feel Davey’s full attention on you. Clearly, you were failing miserably. Though, maybe this meant something. Maybe he felt the same way. Or, it could just be that you were taking care of his brother and he was eyeing you like a hawk, like any protective older brother would do. You looked back at Davey when you heard him speak. “You’re good with him,” he stated.

“He’s a good kid. Quite the trooper out there today,” you smiled coyly as you took in his features, “you all were.” A bruise was starting to show on his cheek. “I think I might have something for that bruise...” You were in the middle of rising when Davey cut you off.

“It’s fine. Doesn’t even hurt,” he reassured you as he rose to stand, “Thank you, for ah, makin’ the sling for Les.” He moved himself subtly closer to you.

“Like I said, it’s the least I can do. You guys got me outta there. I should be the one thanking you...” You trailed off, looking down. You sat the refused jar of ointment down on the desk beside you. “So, thank you Davey.” You quickly grabbed his hands, before your courage left you, leaned in and kissed his un-bruised cheek. The kiss only lingered for a moment before you pulled back slowly, realizing how close your faces were. You could see a hint of a smile grace his face. You tried pulling away, taking a step or two before Davey pulled you back in.

Davey’s eyes glanced down to your lips before returning to your gaze. One of Davey’s hands let go of yours and cupped the side of your face. He leaned in slowly as if asking for permission. You smiled and closed your eyes before you started leaning.

When you were merely centimeters apart, the door of the costume closet shot open, banging against the wall, and you and Davey jolted apart. Racetrack pushed his way into the area seemingly not realizing immediately that he might have interrupted something. He paused for a moment with a smirk. “What’s going on here?” You could hear the humor in his voice as Les rubbed his eyes.

“Nothin’ Race, I was just helping Davey and Les,” you covered, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “Everything alright?”

“Uh huh, sure.” He said, with a look that suggested ‘we’ll talk later’. “Everything’s not alright. They got Crutchie. He’s gone to the refuge.”