#though are often able to use ASL or writing to get our points across

[systemic-stupidity]

*deep breath in*

*deep breath out*

Let AAC users say fuck!

Let them swear, let them say fuck and asshole and anything else they want.

Let them program their devices to say ‘fuck off’ instead of just ‘leave me alone, please’. Let them have language that’s adult or even offensive! Give them the ability to communicate the same as anyone else- let them have the option to be abrasive and even rude for when people are being assholes, let them swear casually so they can joke with their peers and say shit like ‘can you pass the damn ketchup’!!!!!!!!

Let disabled people say fuck!

[arrow-guy]

Talk to Me

Original request from @scrawlingwithstyle: Here's a request I've been sitting on for a bit. ClintxReader; Clint is deaf and most people rely on his lipreading skills, but Reader knows some ASL from when her family thought her autistic younger sibling would never speak (they became vocal close to seven years old). They have secret conversations across the room, thinking no one else on the team understands. . . . They're wrong. Adjust however you like!

A/N: Okay, it’s taken probably close to a year to actually get around to this, but i kind of breezed through writing it? And it was a whole bunch of fun to finally put down in a document. I didn’t change much about your request, but I definitely added to it, and made it a little romantic? Idk if it’ll come off as romance, it’s kind of goofy (it’s Clint, there needs to be a goof somewhere.) I really hope you like it, though!!

Page dividers by @carryonmyswansong

Pairing: ClintxReader

Word Count: 5.5k

Warnings: None

“Are you sure about this, Bruce?” I ask. “Ross let me go as soon as you went AWOL. I haven’t worked with people like this in years.”

“Of course I’m sure! You were the best back in the day.”

“Back in the day,” I laugh. “You make it sound like we’re ancient.”

“We’re not as young as we used to be,” he says. “But that’s the point. You’ll bring some much needed experience to the table.”

“But I’m not a spy and I definitely don’t have any powers.”

“Trust me, (Y/N), superpowers are not all they’re cracked up to be, and both spies have long since ceased their spying activities.” I cock one eyebrow and he laughs. “For the most part.”

“Saying a spy stopped being a spy is like saying you misplaced the hulk.”

“Ah, very true.”

“I’ll do it, though.”

“You will?”

“Well I can’t very well leave you to fend for yourself, now can I? As it stands, I’m already a shitty friend, working together can’t hurt things.”

Bruce grins and grips my shoulder. “I’ll see you Monday, then.”

I roll my eyes, but can’t fight back my smile. “Do I need to pack a bag, or will I be allowed to go home at the end of the day?”

“Not sure yet. Might as well bring a change of clothes and a toothbrush just in case.”

“Alright, then. I’ll see you Monday.”

“I can’t believe you actually pulled it off, Banner,” Stark says. “You wrangled a counselor for the team?”

“What,” I say. “Like it was supposed to be hard?”

Bruce laughs and reaches out to place his hand on my shoulder. “I’ve known (Y/N) for just about as long as I can remember. I’m sure she’ll be a good fit.”

“As long as you can remember, huh?” I look past Captain Rogers and find a sandy haired man. He grins when I meet his eyes. “Just how long?”

I bob my head from side to side. “Somewhere between twenty years and most of our lives.”

He whistles. “Pretty long time, then.”

“Mhm.”

Bruce clears his throat. “I’m sure (Y/N) wants to see where she’ll be working, so I’ll just show her to her office.”

Everyone in the boardroom waves and Bruce leads me out of the room. As soon as we’re out in the hall I sigh and bow my head, finally able to let my shoulders relax.

“That was a lot.”

Bruce chuckles. “Trust me, it’ll either get worse or stay exactly the same as time goes on, depending on who you’re talking to.”

“The blond guy who spoke up, that’s Hawkeye, right?”

“Clint Barton, yeah.”

“Will I be seeing much of him?”

“I’m not sure. I don’t really know much about the guy. He seems pretty happy-go-lucky and stable most of the time, though.”

“Huh.” I shrug and hitch my bag a little higher on my shoulder. “You never know with some people.”

“True. I’m sure you’ll deal with him at least once more after this. He’s the curious type.”

“I guess I’ll have to look forward to that, then.”

Bruce hummed in agreement and leads me to the elevator bank and takes me down to what will eventually be my office. He gives me a basic rundown of the facilities and shows me which restroom is closest to my office. I ask for a baseline reading on everyone on the team and Bruce rattles off what he’s noticed about the main five.

“Steve will most likely drop by to make small talk, but it may take some time for him to open up in any way that counts. Tony will joke about therapy, but once he warms up to you it’ll be impossible to get him to leave.”

“Oof, that bad?”

“He’s long-winded.”

“Then I guess I’ll have to enforce appointments with him when he starts to take interest.”

“Probably wise.”

“And Natasha?”

“I doubt you’ll see much of her. She has her ways of working through her issues on her own.”

“Do they involve murder?”

“Don’t know, and I don’t care to.”

“Got it. None of our business. I’ll let her come to me if she needs anything.” I plop down behind my new desk. “What about Thor?”

“Who knows. He shows up when he wants and tends to be a pretty jovial guy.”

“Ah. Is there anyone else outside of the tower I can expect?”

“Wanda, Sam, and Rhodey will be around from time to time. If Steve has his way, Bucky will move in at some point, and Wanda is currently in the process of moving into the tower, so you may see her more after that. I’m not sure how often she’ll drop by. She’s fairly private due to her powers.”

“Energy manipulation, right?”

He nods. “That, and other mind tricks.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“But that just leaves Clint, and we’ve already gone over what you can expect from him.”

“It doesn’t just leave Clint, Bruce.” I fold my hands on the desktop. “I expect to see you in here at least once a week. Ideally twice.”

Bruce scowls. “(Y/N), you know how I feel about that.”

“Yeah, well, I listen to your opinions on that stuff when I’m just your friend. Now I’m your therapist, and you’re going to listen to me because I know what works for you. So I expect you to get your pasty ass in here when you’re scheduled.”

“You’re making appointments for me now?”

“Until I’m sure you’ll come to me on your own, yes.”

He rolls his eyes. “Fine. Send me the schedule. I’ll see you at my appointed time.”

“Wonderful.” I relax my shoulders, letting my professional mask slip. “Thanks for this, Bruce. I mean it.”

“I know you do.” He cracks a smile. “You’re the only person I trust to get to the root of our issues.”

“I appreciate that. I’ll try not to let you down.”

“Believe me, (Y/N), if anyone’s gonna let me down, it’ll be the team.” I laugh and he heads for the door. “I’ll see you later. Good luck with your first day.”

“Thanks, Bruce. I’ll see you later!”

“So, (Y/N),” Tony says, spreading out on the couch across from my chair. “What’s your deal?”

“My deal?”

“Yeah, what makes you tick? What motivates you to try and heal the fragile minds of the Avengers?”

“I’d say a decent paycheck is a pretty good motivator, Mr. Stark.”

He seems disappointed with my answer. “Is that it?”

“Well, that, and I want to make sure Bruce is doing alright. He’s struggled with therapy in the past, and I want to make sure he’s getting the kind of help that he needs.”

“I see.” He presses his lips together and folds his arms. “You’re not even curious about the rest of the team?”

“Of course I’m curious, but nothing discussed in this tower will be shared with anyone outside. I take my patients privacy very seriously.”

“You sure you don’t just fear for your life?”

“Living in New York, I fear for my life constantly. That doesn’t mean that I’m worried about getting merced if I get a little loose lipped outside of work.” I sigh and lean back in my chair. “That being said, I won’t be sharing your confidential information with anyone you haven’t specifically given authorized access to your records.”

“Huh.”

“Yeah. It’s almost like I’m a professional, right?”

He smiles. “I’m really starting to like you, (Y/N).”

“Then I guess I have a lot more of this to look forward to, then, don’t I?”

I laughs and hauls himself up from the couch. “We’ll see.”

I make a note of his response in my open document. “Sounds like a tentative yes to me, Mr. Stark, and I’ll be here so long as you deem my services necessary.”

He nods and exits my office. He leaves the door open.

“How are you liking it here so far, (Y/N)?”

“It’s been quiet, Captain Rogers. It’s a bit like pulling teeth trying to get anyone to make use of their resources.”

“I guess it would be. We’re a relatively private bunch.” He pauses a moment. “And, please, call me Steve.”

“Right, Steve. Is there anything that I can do for you today?” I ask. “It’s entirely alright if you just want to make small talk.”

“Oh, well, uh…” He awkwardly clears his throat and shifts uncomfortably on the couch. “I guess I just wanted to get a lay of the land.”

“I understand.” I glance around my office. “I should probably bring in some art and plants. Make it a little less sterile in here.”

Steve laughs. “That might help.”

I smile. “Maybe an area rug?”

He shrugs. “Whatever you think would be best.”

“I appreciate the creative freedom.” I close my laptop, set it to the side, and settle back in my chair. “Is there something on your mind, Steve?”

“No,” he says quickly. He immediately looks conflicted. “I… well, kind of.”

“Feel free to speak. Nothing you say will leave this office.”

“You hardly know me.”

I shrug. “I know how stressful this environment can be. And, while your team is very good at what they do, they’re also the ones who are causing your stress.”

“I don’t know if I’d say that.” I watch him chew the inside of his cheek. “I guess I’m just concerned that things might not get better, even when Bucky’s moved in.”

“Why’s that?”

“I don’t know. I’m worried that it might not be a good fit for him, or that the team won’t accept him, or that he might not even want to be around me.”

“Those are all valid concerns. Have you mentioned any of this to him?”

“God no. I don’t want to stress him out more than I already have with all of this moving business.”

“I might suggest bringing it up. He might be having similar worries himself, and, as helpful as it is to work towards what’s troubling you with me, I won’t be able to settle your nerves.”

“Maybe you’re right…”

“If nothing else, it might open up a new line of communication between the two of you, which couldn’t hurt.”

Steve stays for another hour, just talking. When he leaves, he asks if I want the door open or closed. I don’t give him a definite answer and he leaves it open, just a crack. I laugh and start on his profile.

Someone knocks on my door and I glance up from my paperwork to see Clint standing in the doorway.

“Mr. Barton,” I say. “I was wondering when I might see you.”

He shrugs. “Here I am.”

“After two weeks, I was starting to think you were avoiding me.”

“If I was?”

“Then it’s none of my business.”

The corner of his mouth lifts in a smile. “I like that answer.”

I rise from my desk and gesture to the couch. He raises his eyebrows, but takes a seat anyway. I sit across from him and watch as he tries to decide just how he should sit. In the end, he leans heavily on his knees. Nothing about him is relaxed.

“I’m starting to think Bruce was wrong about you.”

“What’d the green bean tell you about me?”

“Nothing concrete,” I answer. “He just mentioned that you seem to have a positive outlook on things most of the time.”

He snorts. “Great.”

“Mmm, I see. It’s a facade, then?”

He frowns and presses a finger to his right ear. “Could you say that again?”

“I said, it’s a facade, then?”

“Sometimes.”

I nod. “Interesting.”

He barks out a laugh. “Yeah, interesting.”

I watch him look around the room, examining the art on the walls and the stacks of paper on my desk. When he turns his head to the left, I notice his purple earpiece and something suddenly clicks. He tilts his head to the side when he sees me staring.

“What?”

“Would it be easier if we signed?” I ask, signing along as I speak.

He looks surprised. “You sign?”

I laugh. “Yes. My little brother is on the Autism spectrum. When he was a kid, he was almost entirely nonverbal. Mom taught him sign, and the rest of the family learned along with him.”

“That must’ve been really nice for him.”

“It was nice to be able to communicate with him when he couldn’t vocalize what he wanted to say. He eventually started speaking when he was about seven, though.”

“And you still held onto the signing skills?”

“Of course! It’s not like he just, bam, started talking. It was a long process, and he still has nonverbal days sometimes.” Clint starts to actually smile and it warms my heart. “It’s come in handy in my particular line of work too. Deaf and hard of hearing folks need counsellors and therapists too.”

“Which brings the topic of conversation back to me.” He shakes his head and leans back against the couch and signs, “You’re a tricky one, (Y/N).”

“I’m not tricky!”

“Then what?”

“I’m accommodating.” I speak again, but continue to sign along. “You don’t have to tell me everything, or anything, really. But I’m here to help, if you need me.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course, Clint. Any time.”

“Seems like you and Clint are getting close,” Bruce says.

“I don’t know what you mean, man.”

“He’s in here all the time, (Y/N). There’s no way Barton needs therapy five times a week.”

“It’s not always about therapy, Bruce. I strive to make my office a safe space where everyone knows that they can speak freely. He knows that he can come here and chill out without worrying about the rest of the team.”

“Barton doesn’t really worry about anything, though.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that.”

Bruce stares at me, eyes narrowed, and snaps his fingers. "You like him."

I roll my eyes. "I do not like him, Bruce. And you're not even here to talk about Clint, you're here to work on yourself and managing your stress levels."

He rolls his eyes. "I'm sure there's something we could talk about aside from me."

I sigh and hold my head in my hands. "I've been here for two months. I haven't been around long enough to form anything more than tentative relationships with the rest of the team. I'm more concerned about whether or not they can open up to me than I am with my love life."

“Right,” Bruce clears his throat.

“Thank you.” He looks thoroughly ashamed and I have to laugh. “I appreciate the interest, but it’s just not something that you need to worry about.”

“No, I understand.” He smiles and shrugs. “I guess I just miss having that easy rapport with you.”

“I mean, we still have that, Bruce. It’s just not something that I want to talk about in the workplace. It’s one thing to shoot the shit over lunch on a Saturday, it’s another to discuss my patients with another patient, all of whom are my coworkers.”

“I didn’t think about it like that.”

I smile. “It’s fine. Did you want to pick up where we left off on Tuesday?”

“Yeah, sounds good.”

“(Y/N)?”

I’m startled by the woman in the doorway. “Ms. Romanoff?”

She shakes her head and steps into my office. “As long as you’re not a government official, it’s just Natasha.”

“Ah, right.” I sit a little straighter in my chair. “What can I do for you, Natasha?”

“Clint’s said you’ve helped him a lot.”

“I don’t know about that. We just talk. He does all the helping.”

“I figured you’d say that.” She moves quickly across the room and takes a seat on the couch. “I’d like to talk to you, if you have the time.”

“Oh.” I scramble up from my desk to sit across from her. “What about?”

“I need help working through a recent case.”

“Are you sure I’m qualified for that?”

“Well, you said Clint does all the helping. Maybe what I need is a sounding board.”

“Fair enough. Where are you caught up?”

Natasha rattles off the details of a recent mission. I do my best to follow her, but she loses me when she starts explaining the intricacies of a piece of Hydra technology they discovered. Eventually, she perks up, almost looking like she wants to jump up from her seat and run from the room.

“I think I’ve got it.”

“That’s great!”

She calmly gets to her feet and walks to the door. “Thank you, (Y/N).”

I shake my head. “It was my pleasure.”

“Even so, you helped me.” She flashes me an unexpected smile. “I appreciate that.”

“It’s not a problem, Natasha. I hope that we can speak again at some point.”

She nods and heads for the door. “I’ll see you around.”

In the hall I hear, “Oh, hey, Nat.” and Clint pokes his head in soon after.

I smile. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He leans in the doorway and folds his arms. “What’d Nat dump on you?”

“Doctor patient confidentiality, Barton,” I say. “I can’t tell you.”

His arms fall to his side and he dramatically slumps into the room. “I thought you trusted me!”

I laugh. “I do trust you, Clint. But it’s not my information to give.” He drapes himself across the couch and grins at the sight of me fighting back my smile. “If it were, Bruce would have full access to what we talk about in our sessions.”

“That’s private information, (Y/N)!” He laughs. “I see your point.”

“Good.”

“Did you want to grab lunch later? That weird little cafe down the street started serving some kind of coffee burger.”

“Ugh, and you want to eat that?”

“(Y/N), it’s a coffee burger.”

“With all the heinous shit you put in your body, it’s a wonder you’re still alive.”

“If you think I’m bad, you should meet my dog.”

“Is that an offer?”

“Maybe.” He shrugs. “Guess you’ll have to stick around long enough to find out.”

I roll my eyes. “It’s been four months, Clint. If I haven’t run for the hills yet, I’m pretty sure it’s not gonna happen for a while yet.”

Something twinkles in his eyes. “That’s good to hear. I was worried I might scare you off.”

“If anyone were to scare me off, it��d be Tony.” I shake my head. “That man is a handful.”

“What happened to patient confidentiality?”

“Since when is Tony being a handful a secret?” He laughs and I relax in my seat. “But, yeah, I’ll get lunch with you.”

“Really?”

“Someone has to make sure you don’t keel over from physically eating coffee.”

“Oh come on! It’s not like they solidified the coffee and stuck it on a bun!”

“How do you know they didn’t? Maybe they turned the coffee into jello, passed it through a meat grinder, and threw it on a griddle.”

His face scrunches up in disgust. “Ugh, that’d just be burnt coffee.”

“I’ve watched you drink an entire pot of burnt coffee.”

“Desperate times, (Y/N). They call for desperate measures.”

I sigh and shake my head. ”I guess it’s fine, so long as you’re not addicted to caffeine pills.”

“Those don’t do anything for me.”

“That’s terrifying.”

He laughs, hauls himself up from the couch, and offers me a hand. “Shall we?”

“Shall we what?”

“Head out for lunch.”

“Now? I thought you said later.”

“It’s been like five minutes. It’s later now.”

I laugh. “I can’t just go now. I have an appointment with Steve in twenty minutes. We can leave after that.”

He pouts. “Fine.”

“Don’t give me that look, Clint!”

He sighs and trudges towards the door. “I guess I’ll just have to make a reservation for one thirty.”

“That’d be great.”

He flashes a brilliant smile before disappearing out into the hall. I shake my head and move back to my desk.

“That man is gonna get me in trouble.”

“I thought you said you weren’t involved with Clint?”

“I’m not, Bruce.”

“Then what’s this?” He places his phone on my keyboard.

I pick up the phone and find an article titled “Hawkeye’s New Flame, or Just a Fling?” pulled up. A picture of Clint and I at lunch the other day sits just below a paragraph speculating who I could be. I snort and hand him his phone.

“Clint and I went to lunch. That’s all.” I sit back and fold my arms. “What’s the problem, Bruce?”

“I don’t want you getting dragged into some kind of media storm because you work with us.”

“It’s one article!”

“There’s at least four more like it that I’ve seen.”

“I’m not worried about it, Bruce. Clint just went out for lunch and some pap caught us talking. That’s it. There’s nothing more to it, but I can’t stop people from talking.”

“You shouldn’t have to deal with it.”

“No one should have to deal with anyone plastering their personal life all over the internet, but you know what? I’d rather get caught out in public with Clint than Tony.” I laugh. “Can you imagine the shitstorm that’d kick up if that happened?”

Bruce tries not to laugh. “I guess you’re right.”

“It was bound to get out that the Avengers brought in a counsellor at some point. It’s better that it’s like this instead of some media outlet picking up a rumor and deciding that you’re all unstable.”

“Well…”

“I’m not saying you’re the most sane bunch, but that’s no one’s business but yours. Regardless, don’t worry about this. It’ll be fine.”

“Alright.” He pockets his phone. “You’d tell me if something was wrong, right?”

“Of course I would, Bruce. If something comes up, I’ll let you know.”

I sit on the floor of the gym and lift the collar of my shirt to wipe the sweat from my face.

Clint plops down on the floor beside me and tips his head to the side.

“Definitely didn’t expect to find you in here,” he says.

“What, I can’t work out?” I groan and lay back. “Ugh.”

“You okay?”

“No. I knew I should’ve just stuck to the treadmill.”

“What’d you do to yourself?”

“Weights.”

He laughs. “Why did you do that?”

“I don’t know. Is wanting to be able to lift a very large dog a good reason?”

“I wouldn’t say it’s a bad reason.” He lays beside me and props himself up on his elbow. “I could help you, if you want.”

“I don’t know how I feel about being all sweaty gross around you.”

He pokes my stomach and I laugh and shift away. “I don’t know, (Y/N), sweaty’s the new sexy.”

“Aw, that’s sweet.” I laugh and scrunch my nose. “Also kind of gross.”

“Sweet and kind of gross, I think you’ve pretty much summed me up perfectly.” I laugh so hard that I snort and he grins. “So, do you want help working out?”

I press my fist to my mouth to quiet my giggling. “If you’re willing to, I really would appreciate it.”

“Then it’s a done deal.” I thank him and his smile softens. “Sorry about those articles last week, by the way.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

“I should’ve warned you, at least. I’m used to it, but you didn’t sign up for pap shots and gossip columns when you took this job.”

I scowl. “Honestly, Clint. If you’re not gonna read my lips, read my hands. It’s totally fine. I don’t care. I had a nice time at lunch. A few dumb articles won’t change that.”

“You mean that?”

“Well, yeah. I like spending time with you outside of all of this,” I say, gesturing to the tower in general. “With, y’know, no expectations of maintaining all of the professional bullshit.”

“Pretty sure you’re the most professional one here.”

“Thanks, I’m glad that comes across in the day to day, but do you understand what I’m saying? Like I genuinely do not care about what a shitty news outlet says. At the end of the day, the only opinions that matter are ours.” I sigh and settle on the floor. “Sorry.”

“Sounds like we’re not the only ones who need therapy.”

I hum. “Maybe I do.”

“No shame in it.”

I smile at him. “I know.” I sit up and get to my feet. “It’s getting late, I should head out.”

“You’re in tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah, I’ll be around till noon. I’ve got a wedding later in the day.”

“Not yours, right?”

I laugh. “No, definitely not mine.”

“Cool,” He smiles up at me. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Since when do we have staff meetings?” Clint asks.

“Since we brought on a counselor,” Tony says.

I frown. “I’ve been here six months and I’ve never been to any kind of meeting.”

“I’m going to ignore the fact that you brought that up and just keep moving with the meeting.”

I snort and shoot Clint a look. He laughs and signs for me to stop. I wave him off and turn my attention back to the head of the table.

Tony rambles on for about half an hour before Steve cuts in and the two of them start going back and forth. They bicker for twenty minutes before Thor swans in, greeting everyone with his bright, booming voice. I was stuck in my office the last time he was on Earth, so our paths never had a chance to cross. Steve takes a moment to introduce the two of us and Thor vigorously shakes my hand, unintentionally jostling me around the whole time. He takes his seat on the other side of Bruce and the conversation picks up again.

I catch Clint’s eye twitching in my peripheral when Thor speaks a little too loudly. I gesture to get his attention and he raises his eyebrows when he meets my eyes.

“You good?” I sign.

He nods. “Can’t pay attention to save my life in these meetings.”

“I’ve never known anyone to compliment your attention span.”

He mouths, “Oh, ha ha,” and I laugh.

“You’re mean, (Y/N).”

“And here I thought you liked me.”

“Never said I didn’t.” He grins. “The way things are going, I’d say you’re probably just my type.”

I shake my head and hide my smile behind my hand. “Stop.”

“Aw, you're cute when you're embarrassed." I flip him off and he laughs. “That's a compliment!"

I snort. “Pay attention, Clint.”

We manage to make it through another hour and, by that time, someone has turned off the lights and started giving a presentation. I fold my arms on the table and rest my chin on top and beg myself to stay awake through this meeting. I’m sure it’ll only be a little while longer.

Clint’s hand creeps into my line of sight and he taps the table to get my attention. I shoot him a quizzical look and he lifts his eyebrows.

“You still with us?” he signs.

“No.”

“It’s going longer than I thought it would.”

“I’m honestly about to fall asleep.”

“Aw, (Y/N), no.”

“This is how I go out. Avenge me, Clint.”

“No!”

“It’s your job. You have to.”

“But who will help me through the trauma?”

I cover my mouth to muffle my laughter. “I’d be dead, that’s none of my concern.”

He shakes his head. “And you call yourself my friend.”

Natasha clears her throat, startling me away from the conversation. I try to pay attention to the presentation, but I just can't wrap my head around what they're talking about and Clint easily distracts me again.

"Quick question."

Surprised, I sign, "Shoot."

"Would you want to go out with me?"

My brain stops working for a second. "Wait, what?"

"I said, will you go out with me?"

My heart hammers in my chest. "Like as friends, or on a date?"

He sighs. "We've been hanging out as friends for months now. I'm asking you on a date, stupid."

My face heats and I sit back in my seat. “Oh.”

He laughs. “Did I break you?”

“A little.” I frown.

“Just say yes!”

Startled, I glance up the table, only to find Natasha glaring at Clint and I. Everyone is looking at us and I suddenly want to disappear.

“What’s the problem?” Steve asks.

“I’m sick of watching the two of them flirt with each other,” Natasha says. “You’ve been mooning over each other for months. Just say yes and be done with it.”

“Nat, they haven’t said a single thing since the beginning of the meeting.”

“They’ve been signing at each other the entire meeting.” She looks directly at me and signs, “I see everything.”

“Sorry.”

“Just say yes.” She looks very pointedly between Clint and I. “You’d be good together.”

“I thought you said you didn’t like him!” Bruce says.

“That was months ago, Bruce. Things change.”

“Don’t be hard on her,” Natasha says. “Clint’s an acquired taste.”

“I’m just gonna, um…” I gesture to the door. “I’m just gonna go.”

I see Tony and Steve nod and I shove my chair back from the table and make my escape. The door shuts behind me, and I’m free. I sigh, relieved to be free of the weight of everyone’s eyes on me, only for the embarrassment of having my crush exposed to my coworkers to settle deep in my stomach.

I press my fingertips to my temples and walk down the hallway. “I knew he was gonna get me in trouble.”

I make the decision to just go back to my office. Maybe I can at least get some work done or, at the very least calm down. I turn as the elevator doors close and catch a glimpse of the conference door opening at the end of the hall. I shift slightly so that it’s not in my line of sight.

The elevator ride feels like it’s too long and I immediately flop down on my couch as soon as I’m in my office. I can't get comfortable and shift around until I'm upside down with my legs over the back of the conch, staring at the ceiling. I press the heels of my hands over my eyes and groan out of frustration.

“I left without even answering him,” I mutter.

The door suddenly opens and I freeze, pulling my hands away from my face, waiting for whoever it is to announce themselves.

"(Y/N)?"

"Clint?" I try to sit up and smack my head on the edge of the coffee table. "Shit."

"Are you okay?" he asks.

I rub my forehead and sit up a little more carefully. "I'll live."

He takes a seat on the coffee table and watches intently as I sit upright on the couch and face him. He reaches out and gently touches my forehead, only to jerk his hand back when I wince.

"Sorry."

"Don't, it's fine."

"Okay." He sighs softly and shuffles awkwardly on the table. He stills when I touch his knee and takes my hand in his. "I'm sorry about the meeting. I shouldn't have put you on the spot like that."

"Honestly, Clint, you don't need to apologize," I murmur. "I got flustered and then embarrassed when everyone else got involved."

"I know. I probably like pushing your buttons a little too much."

"That's not it."

"But I do push your buttons."

"Yeah, but only 'cause I let you." He smiles and I squeeze his hand. "But I'm a deeply private person. To have Natasha butt in like that, no matter the good she meant by it, really set me on edge."

"I had no idea."

"I don't feel like I have to keep everything close to my chest when I’m with you. You tease me, but it’s never from a place of malice and you know me well enough that you never take it too far.”

“I mean, you give as good as you get.” He doesn’t meet my eyes as he runs his thumb over my knuckles. “But still. I should’ve just asked in private, but you know me.”

“Yeah. You’re sweet, but kind of stupid sometimes. More than a little impulsive. And way too fond of coffee.”

“Aw, I thought that was endearing!” He smiles when I laugh. “The invitation still stands, but you don’t have to say yes.”

“What’re you talking about?” He meets my eyes and I shake my head. “I’m not about to turn you down. You haven’t introduced me to your dog yet.”

“Oh, I get it, you only want me for Lucky.”

“Mhm.”

He shakes his head and kneels on the floor in front of me. “Shoulda known.”

“I know, I’m pure evil.” He grins and takes my face in his hands. “I should be fired, right?”

“Without a doubt.”

I hum softly and lean forward to bump my nose against his. After a moment’s hesitation, Clint closes the distance between us and gently kisses me. I place one hand on his forearm and tilt my head to the side to kiss him back. He smiles against my lips and pulls away, his eyes flitting over my face.

“So… about that dog.”

I have no idea what would happen to them after that, but I’d like to think they’re having a great time, petting dogs and continuing to mess with each other, all whilst falling in love.

I’d love to know what you guys thought of this little one shot. Did you love it, did you hate it? Did you breathe out through your nose a little bc you kind of laughed but also didn’t? Be sure to like, reblog, comment, or shoot me an ask and tell me all about it!

If you’d like to be tagged in future fics, please let me know!

Tag list:

@ghostlyhamlet, @claws-of-vibranium, @creaturefeatures101, @buckysendoftheline, @imagine-assembling-the-avengers, @ptprocrastination, @1950schick, @amayasymone23, @arfrona-and-marvel, @ek823, @fanaticfangirl001, @furrywerewolfcollector, @kissofvenom922, @dawn-phantomhive, @fangirlwithasweettooth, @mairhof1, @starryeyesbadguys, @trap-house-homiecide, @buckywhitewolfbarnes, @kaepm981, @howdoesoneadult, @pcdmesamidala, @thefandomplace, @sian22redux, @skeletoresinthebasement, @lady-thor-foster, @jazzcutie, @gaytonystark, @geeksareunique, @nyxveracity, @breezy1415, @feelmyroarrrr, @darling-loki​, @lemonadeorange73​, @princess-unicorn124​, @hermionie-is-my-queen​, @tofeartheunknown​, @queenoftheunderdark​, @avengerscompound​

[neitherlandslibrary]

‘The Magicians’ Creators Preview the Groundbreaking Deaf Sequence in Wednesday’s Episode

The crew also breaks down the casting of two deaf actresses to play younger versions of guest star Marlee Matlin. (Source)

“The Magicians” is never boring, and not just because it plays in the realm of fantasy. In fact, Syfy’s adaptation of the popular Lev Grossman novels never rests on its magical laurels ��� such as using strange mythical creatures or bizarre spells — as shortcuts to telling an intriguing story.

Instead, it constantly pushes itself to conjure up new ways to present its narrative, and the result is often as bewitching as it is bold. Take for example two episodes from earlier in the season. “Be the Penny” explores what it’s like for characters to mourn the loss of one of their own, but it’s told from the perspective of the deceased. The episode directly after, the poignant “A Life in a Day,” plays with the concept of time as two of the main characters literally spend a lifetime on what seems to be a hopeless task.

Six Short Stories

Wednesday’s upcoming episode “Six Short Stories About Magic,” written by co-creator Sera Gamble and David Reed, is split up into six sections, each told from the point of view of a different character. It begins with Penny (Arjun Gupta), who seeks out Benedict (Harvey Guile) in the Underworld and bluffs his way through fake “Game of Thrones” spoilers to achieve his goal. Take a look:

Penny’s task is related to the season’s big quest, finding the Seven Keys, which will somehow restore magic to both Earth and the Narnia-like world of Fillory. It’s this quest that prompted the series to push itself to new storytelling heights for this episode.

“We have this thing that was exacerbated by the structure of Season 3, which is a very classic fairy-tale quest structure in pursuit of something very well-defined: seven keys,” Gamble said in an interview with IndieWire. “You have an automatic cheat sheet as a viewer: either they’re going to succeed or they’re going to fail per episode and then also in the arc of the season. It became apparent to us that we had to really be extra creative with the structure of individual episodes because the last thing we want to do is bore you or become predictable.”

Therefore, David Reed came up with the idea to tell the story from six different characters’ perspectives. This is not quite “Rashomon,” though. The different perspectives are not contradictory nor ambiguously reliable. Rather, with each subsequent story that dovetails slightly with the one before, new layers of insights are added. What makes the episode truly groundbreaking, however, is the final storyline, which belongs to Harriet, played by Oscar-winning deaf actress Marlee Matlin.

The Sound of Silence

Harriet first appeared in Season 2 as the owner of Fuzzbeat, a website that specializes in cat videos and silly articles that turned out to be coded news for magicians. Since then, it’s been revealed that she’s an activist who wants the magical books and information from the Neitherworld Library to be free and accessible to all. Therefore, she’s called in when the gang dreams up a convoluted scheme to obtain one of the Seven Keys that involves knowledge of the library.

In this exclusive sneak peek from Wednesday’s episode, Harriet is trying to convince Alice (Olivia Taylor Dudley) to go along with the plan:

The scene above actually takes place during Alice’s story, which plays out fairly typically when it comes to production and sound. With Harriet’s story, however, viewers will be able to experience the action as if they are that character, both visually and auditorily. “The Magicians” created a full sequence that approximates for the audience what it’s like to move through the world if you’re deaf.

“David and I did a little research into hearing impairment,” said Gamble. “Not everybody who would identify themselves as deaf has 100 percent hearing loss. We tried to replicate the level of hearing impairment that we were being told and educated about, which does include being able to hear certain sounds in a very low register.”

Gamble will delve into the production of that scene further with IndieWire after the episode has aired on Wednesday.

Your Harriets Await

Beyond those production concerns, digging into Harriet’s story also required casting two other deaf actresses who would play younger versions of Harriet in her backstory. Casting directors Carrie Audino and Helen Geier broke down the process of finding the young actresses. Usually the casting department gets about a week’s notice per episode, but in this case, they were notified about a month earlier to give them more time for the search.

“We put out our breakdown first, which is what we do every episode to find actors, and we let the community know that we’re looking for actors that are deaf that need to match Marlee Matlin,” said Audino. “Then we see what you get back. Usually, if they have people if they’re represented by agents, they are usually people that we’re definitely going to take a look at because it usually means they’ve worked before. We start there, see what we get and then we expand the search.”

The search took place in both the United States and in Canada, where the series is shot, and through the usual talent agencies as well as those who specialize in actors who are hard of hearing. The deaf community, including deaf schools and theaters, were also contacted. Both actresses — one who would play Harriet as a child and one who would portray her as a teenager — were sought at the same time.

The role of the youngest version of Harriet went to newcomer Winter Sluyter-Obidos. “She had a brightness to her,” said Geier. “It really came across when she was doing the scene. You could see what she was doing, could see what she was thinking, but she wasn’t just kind of going through the motions.”

Landing the role of the teenager or young adult Harriet was Stephanie Nogueras, an experienced actress who had a recurring role as Natalie Pierce on “Switched at Birth,” the Freeform show that featured many deaf characters and actors.

Signing On

Casting deaf actors in roles written as such isn’t just good for representation and authenticity, but that also meant that they were already fluent in American Sign Language. That was a skill that two other cast members, Jade Tailor who plays Kady, and Mageina Tovah who plays the Librarian, had to acquire quickly for this episode.

Given Harriet’s strong feelings about the Neitherworld Library, it will come as no surprise that she has some sort of past history with it and knows the Librarian in some way. Hence, Tovah, who plays the bespectacled book curator, had to learn massive amounts of ASL and then perform it as fluently as possible.

“She didn’t come knowing she would have 14 pages of dialogue,” said Gamble. “We gave her the script early to practice.”

Tailor, whose character Kady often translates Harriet’s signing for the rest of the gang, had been learning ASL over the course of two seasons. And this is on top of having to use the particular brand of finger-tutting that the magicians use on the show to cast spells.

“Jade had the most scenes with [Marlee Matlin] and Jade had to be fluent,” co-creator John McNamara said. “One of the things that can set in on a show is ennui and predictability. When you suddenly cast a really highly regarded Oscar-winning actress and then say to the actors, ‘You have to learn this whole new skill and make it look like you’ve been doing it your whole life,’ it’s very good for the lifeblood of the show.”

Casting Outside the Box

Although “The Magicians” specifically cast actresses who are deaf to play a deaf character, the show attempts to cast marginalized actors regardless if the role is written that way or not.

Grier said, “Whenever there’s something that isn’t what your typical everyday professional actors necessarily has experience doing, that’s always a challenge and then more fun also because you get to kind of learn about the different worlds and be exposed to it and also think of them for future, not just things that they specifically are needed for.”

“I think as casting directors we always try to do that,” said Audino. “We always try and look for an idea that’s out of the box and try and put someone in the role that you wouldn’t necessarily think of them for, whether it’s because they have a disability or they’re a different ethnicity than was originally intended. That’s the fun part of our job.”

Gamble added, “I think it’s really good that this has been a conversation that has been in the media for the last couple of years because we all really needed to hear it. We really needed to hear that we’re the gatekeepers of opportunities and that we should be mindful about that. So we were all excited to just see a whole new group of actors who had never met before. When you have the opportunity to give a job to a great actor who might not get called in for quite as many auditions, that’s exciting.”

The show has already followed through with such casting. Candis Cayne, who was the first transgender actress to play a recurring transgender character in primetime on “Dirty Sexy Money,” doesn’t play a transgender character on “The Magicians,” but the role of Fillory’s Fairy Queen. And of course, Matlin came on to the show to play Harriet, whose character was not originally written to be deaf.

In each case, it was the actress’ skills as a performer (and that Matlin was a fan of the show) that informed the casting decision. And that, in turn, can affect the way the character is written.

“Something that Marlee brought to the role that we then started to write more and more towards is this hilarious, very dry sense of humor,” said Gamble. “The character was always very smart and plays her cards very close to the vest. You can tell that she’s a really formidable friend or adversary to anyone who comes and takes her out. But Marlee is just so fucking funny and so just watching her performance encouraged us to write more jokes for her.

“Some of that I think also come through in Episode 8, where David wrote a joke that was sort of at Kady’s expense, that Kady’s grammar as an interpreter is worse than Marlee’s grammar when she’s speaking.” The joke written by Reed, for whom we are eternally grateful, can be seen in the aforementioned exclusive clip above.

“The Magicians” airs Wednesdays at 9 p.m. ET on Syfy. Check back for IndieWire’s postmortem of “Six Short Stories About Magic” with the series creators.

[soulstream-rp]

Welcome Hillary! We are happy that you are joining us in Soulstream. Isaac is definitely a great addition to the RP (and our first Tuner OC!) We are excited to see how being a deaf Tuner would be played, and how his plot will progress.  Please make sure to follow everyone on our masterlist and our gossip blog. Follow the tags for announcements, starters, follows & unfollows, as well as events. Also, make sure that your submit is activated for OOC chat link purposes.

OOC Info.

Name: Hillary

Age: 25

Preferred Pronoun: she/her

Timezone: EST

Tumblr Contact Info: persephoning.tumblr.com

Activity Scale (1-10): (please add an explanation) 6/10, as I’m a working adult and sometimes the muse just isn’t there.

IC Info. Original Character

Character Name: Isaac Morgenstern

Age: 30

Character Type: Tuner

True Name: “Panacea”

FC: Bob Morley

Sexuality: Pansexual

Date & Place of Birth: February 1st, 1987

Occupation: Medical Researcher

Family:

Sarah Morgenstern (adoptive mother) Tania D’Angelo (adoptive mother)

Connections: I spoke at length with Admin Rhi about a close friendship between Isaac and Miguel Soto, but whether or not that would/should be on his bio is up to her entirely.

Background:

What he would want to make clear (in the conversation he never has, in the explanation that he dreads giving) is that he always has the consent of the people that he takes on as vessels once his latest has started to buckle under the wear and tear of his abilities. Isaac is an old Tuner, he has long since lost count of the years that he has existed, but he remembers the people who have given him their lives to use as his own, even if their names have melted into memory and he only has tiny fragments of the lives of the oldest left. He has their consent and often their sympathy, as he has never taken on a vessel without befriending them first, and it is, in his experience, quite difficult to say no to someone you consider a friend when they’re explaining to you the many ways in which they are dying. What clinches it is that he has always worked in the medical field one way or another, and he has always taken vessels who do the same, counting on the camraderie of the battlefield, the hospital, or the clinic to bind them further.

It makes things easier, both on them when the time comes for him to reveal his gifts and make his case, and on himself, when he has time to reflect on the number of lives he has taken over in his time. Isaac Morgenstern is one such life, a pre-med student at a local university that he befriended ten years ago when his last vessel was fading from overuse. There are some among his kind who prefer to take from the restless or from those who had been seeking to end their lives, but Panacea convinced Isaac on three fronts: curiosity, generosity of spirit, and guilt of the highest order. In truth, he might have lied to the boy a little. He had no way of knowing if the transfer of Isaac’s body to his soul would reverse his deafness, and so it was lucky that that boy had no way of knowing otherwise once the deed was done and the Name was merged with himself. Isaac has done far more healing and twice as much good since then as he could have as a plain mortal, and it is that fact that he clings to when their own guilt starts to nag at them. True, he had misused his vessel that last time and burned their energy too far and too fast, but the lives that he had saved by doing so, they were worth something, weren’t they?

On the whole, he tries not to think about it at all. He keeps his adoptive mothers at a comfortable distance, with occasional uncomfortable phone calls to bridge the thousands of miles that he has put between them since taking over his life ten years ago. It was easier to be around them when he was freshly reborn, when Isaac’s memories reigned supreme in this vessel’s mind, but those days have long gone by now. He thought it best to leave after graduation, to dart across the country and create a new Isaac in a new place, with just enough of a veneer of the old to please the women who gave him access to the boy’s trust fund. The people of Port Ashborne know a different Isaac to that of the people who knew him in his younger years, but there are enough similiarities between the Tuner and the man that he could pass if he were so unlucky as to bump into an old school friend or distant relative. That isn’t too difficult, but communicating with spirits?

That was exceptionally difficult to finagle after centuries of being able to hear and speak to them at will. There were a lot of very frustrated souls in the beginning, quite a few thrown objects and scrawled messages on the floor of his dorm room in Sharpie when he tried to ignore them for a time. Since then he’s learned to adapt, there are whiteboards left all over his apartment for their use and his, as well as a tablet computer that he carries around to help him communicate with the less dead members of society. He isn’t as fast as he used to be, as far as his Tuner duties to the Soulstream go, but his healing ability continues unimpeded. After all, you don’t need to hear or speak to a person to see that they’re injured, even though he doesn’t actively seek out mortals to heal anymore. This too shall pass, this vessel too shall decay and be worn down by the demands of his ability, but until then, he’s satisfied with where and whom he is for right now.

Additional Information:

When stressed or sleepless (though most often both), Isaac has a habit of getting up in the wee hours of the morning to bake or cook, often in the sort of quantities that even his chest freezer can’t handle. He feels that it helps him untangle problems, for there is comfort to be found in the completion of that task. It’s also something that doesn’t really require him to think, and so the rhythmic nature of cooking can help him force a solution out of his mind. It helps him bond with his coworkers as well, being a constant source of free lasagna or brownies.

Since he isn’t actually practicing medicine this time around, Isaac finds that he spends more time than usual working with spirits of the dead and guiding them back to the Soulstream. That’s more difficult these days, but he found that learning how to jump those hurdles improved his ability to communicate with the living as well. Isaac himself could passably lip read and knew ASL before he became a Tuner, though it’s far easier to type or write. He carries a tablet with him always for this purpose.

Personality:

In truth, Isaac isn’t all that sure anymore where his True self, his Tuner self, and the personality of his vessel ends. By nature he is kind and gentle, but he can also be harshly pragmatic and selfish when needs must. He will burn the lives of his vessels down faster than average to heal those who need it, but he also will actively target those he befriends in order to find a proper vessel for the time when his own starts to fail. The continuation of his work, of his healing and his shepherding of the souls of the dead back to the Stream, that is far more important to him than the autonomy of most any other mortal. (Whether or not this is a fear of the void, the death that would come if he didn’t so carefully plan out his future vessels, remains to be seen.) If the situation requires it, he has no problem with using guilt and his keen observation skills to manipulate someone to get his way.

Skills:

Like his true name implies, Isaac can heal almost any wound from the minor to the grievous by touch and focus alone, but there are limitations. He can’t heal his own vessel, and the healing he does is wholly dependant on the energy of that vessel. If he’s careful and doesn’t use more energy than his vessel could possibly take in by eating or sleeping in one day, he doesn’t damage their bodies, but that is an art that he has yet to master. As it stands now, he tends to use his vessels up far earlier than others of his kind and thus shortens their lifespans with every person he heals. His rationale is that his healing is in fact a thousand times more effective than any healing that those healthcare workers that are his preferred vessels could have managed themselves, and that with the hours that the average healthcare worker puts in every week, he’s only increasing the pace at which they wear themselves down. Or so he tells himself.

Isaac Morgenstern was of average build when he became a Tuner, but like many Tuners, he’s stronger than average and has better reflexes, sharper senses (except hearing of course). However, he doesn’t heal as quickly as some of them do. Faster than a mortal, but not as fast as some, which he thinks might just have something to do with the machinery of his ability. Not the worst thing in the world.

Since the vast majority of his past selves have worked in medicine or healing, Isaac is exceptionally skilled at his chosen profession, and would be more obviously so to others if he still practiced face to face. This vessel’s limitations have made that rather impossible though, and though that is somewhat disappointing, it does mean that he isn’t using his healing as much as he used to.

Sample Paragraph: 

He could have borne the rattling of the dishes, the occasional angry message scrawled on the kitchen counter in ketchup as he tried to grapple with the ghost that had invited itself into his new apartment, but waking up at three in the morning because it had decided to turn on all the taps in his bathroom to the point that there was an inch of water on the floor was a tad too far. Isaac had left notes, he had encouraged the ghostly young woman to use the large rolling whiteboard in the living room to tell him what it was that was keeping them here on Earth, but this one had refused to follow his directions at every turn. That and the bill he received from the plumber later on made it clear that he had to take some more drastic measures to ferry this soul back to the Stream. At the Target later that day he bought groceries, fresh dry erase markers, and of all things, a Ouija board. They could yell all they liked (and he knew they were yelling, the vibrations were unmistakable even if that was all he could pick up on), but if they lost him his security deposit, he was going to be pissed.

The rattling started again as he was finishing up with putting groceries away, and Isaac made a vague disgruntled noise as he shut the refrigerator. A friend at work had recommended an app that would take text and make it into a computerized voice, but he set the Ouija board out on the kitchen island as well. Better to be overprepared than not at all, as far as he was concerned. Something must have worked though, for not thirty seconds after he had typed ‘I know what you are, but I’m deaf, so yelling isn’t going to help either of us’, the plate that had been levitating behind him fell into the sink with a splintering crash as the girl glared at him. ‘You’re going to have to write on the board or use this stupid game to talk to me’ got him an icy breath of air on the back of his neck, but ‘You can’t move on unless you talk to me’ finally made her pick up the dry erase marker. If this worked, he was going to have to bake Minh a small bakery’s worth of stuff, but it would be worth it.

At first he was relieved to see that she was writing on the whiteboard, but then? Then he was disheartened, if not actively upset by the contents of what was written there in harsh red letters. ‘What if I don’t want to move on? What if I’m afraid?’ the ghost’s message read, and Isaac sighed as he slid off of the kitchen stool that he had been sitting on earlier. Tablet in hand, he erased what had been written before and tried to type out an answer. There honestly wasn’t a good answer to those questions, not one that he wouldn’t have to sweeten and frame as carefully as possible. ‘We all are, one way or another’ the tablet said, and then Isaac erased the message so that he could continue the conversation. Maybe a little truth would help here, and so he typed out ‘Even me’ before tapping the play button once more. ‘This isn’t your world anymore, but I can tell you about the world that is. And I can take you there, once we’re done.’ The pause that followed that statement seemed to go on forever, and for a moment Isaac thought she had been scared off by the very idea of being helped along. He was just about to drop his tablet on the counter in defeat when the ghost scrawled ‘Okay’ on the board. He could work with that, and maybe, just maybe he could get them out of here before they entirely destroyed the apartment. Maybe was good enough for now.