#you’d think people would figure out that we’re actually the most sound detectors of a pile of shit having dealt with it forever

[paaopalpoerepr33]

For whatever reason it’s only men* and white women who do the “I can excuse racism but I draw the line at animal cruelty” bit. Like I’ve never met a woman of color who has said that, ever. Like ever ever. And it really makes you think 🤔 like I can befriend white people and I’ll even date them, I think I’m pretty lenient to an extent.

*yeah even most men of color unless they’re not fucking morons

[2manyfandoms2count]

You and me against the world (especially sliding doors)

Me: I will not write any fics based on the NY special. Not yet, anyway.

Also me, seeing @emsylcatac‘s post: Fine, you’ve convinced me

Here, have a sliding doors reveal one shot, hope you enjoy it! (New York Special spoilers ahead)

Read on AO3!

---

“Are you sure there’s no way for me to swing in from the roof?” Ladybug asked, anxiously fiddling with her yoyo string as she looked at the building that stood before her. 

“If you were available later this week, you could, but unfortunately the scaffolding is staying up until the works are officially finished.” The event organiser answered apologetically.

“From a window, then, perhaps?” She insisted.

“Unfortunately the bay windows that give inside the main hall don’t open.”

“Is there a back door of any kind, then?”

Her interlocutor looked at her confusedly. People had told him working with Ladybug was easy, that she was very down to earth for someone who spent most of her time fighting on the Parisian rooftops. So far, though, she seemed like a bit of a diva. He agreed that having her make a grand entrance would be better for the press, but today was the only day that fit both her and Chat Noir’s schedules for a daytime event until the next month. Was it too much to ask that they both just entered through the main door, like normal people?

He looked at his watch. The opening was starting soon, and there was still no trace of Chat Noir.

As the organiser fidgeted, Ladybug was starting to regret ever agreeing to inaugurate the new Children’s hospital, which was opening with a flourish after months of works. The superhero and her partner had been specially invited to cut the red ribbon, located inside the building. She had been very touched that they’d thought of them, and had awaited the event excitedly. 

The trouble was that, in an effort to provide the best innovation, the only way of getting inside said building was through automatic doors. She wouldn’t have been bothered by this fact had the event occurred before her trip to New York City. Unfortunately, the field trip had left scars -well, bruises- that made her weary of any door she could not open traditionally. 

It had been embarrassing enough that she’d been stuck with Adrien in between two automatic doors, making a fool of herself as she ran into the transparent panes time and time again. She wasn’t willing to repeat the experience in front of the Parisian public. Not when she’d let them down so recently.

There was a small thud next to her, and the sound of Chat’s baton retracting as he walked towards the event organiser and herself. She turned towards him with relief. Chat was very good at thinking out of the box, maybe he could figure a way to avoid the main entrance. She’d just continue pretending her concerns were for the image of the event, and not because of a personal fear.

Chat Noir’s heart skipped a beat at the sight of Ladybug’s wide smile when he approached. He still wasn’t quite over her words in New York. The way she’d hugged him like he was the most precious thing in her life. Maybe all hope wasn’t lost.

“My Lady.” He bowed and kissed her hand, making sure to keep eye contact with her. “Sir.” He then shook the organiser’s hand. 

“Good afternoon, Chat Noir. We were just discussing your entrance.” The latter replied, hoping the leather-clad teenager was a little more sensible than his partner. 

“We usually come in via the rooftop.” Chat Noir looked up, squinting to see the top of the building which was drowning in sunlight. He spotted a flapping piece of tarp, revealing the scaffold underneath. “But I’m guessing that’s not going to be possible this time.”

“Indeed.” The man acquiesced. “I’m sure the shots of you two coming through the main entrance will be great, though.”

Chat Noir’s gaze followed the man’s, landing on the sliding doors. He visibly paled at the sight.

“Are you sure there isn’t another way in?” He asked as his heart beat rose in his chest. His thoughts immediately went to Marinette and their common experience with automatic doors. Even his fencing bruises weren’t as bad as the ones he’d gotten when failing to go through them in New York. He didn’t care to get more, not to mention the fact he really didn’t want to make a fool of himself in front of Ladybug.

“All the doors are automatic.” Ladybug brought her hand up to her mouth out of habit, but bit her suit fabric instead of her nails.

“How… modern.” Chat took a minute to think. He couldn’t possibly make a scandal about going through the main entrance without attracting attention to himself. Inspiration struck. “What if you went to get the horse Miraculous and we entered through a portal? That would look very cool. I’m sure the kids would love it.”

“Chaton, you genius.” Ladybug kissed his cheek. “How long until the opening, sir?” She turned towards their host.

“Two minutes.” He said, barely glancing at his watch.

Both Ladybug and Chat Noir’s cheerful faces dissolved. Even using the horse superpowers to come back, there was no way Ladybug could reach wherever she hid the Miracle box, return and feed Kaalki before they used his Travel power again to get in, in under two minutes.

“Well… I guess main entrance it is, then.” Chat Noir gulped as they faced the sliding doors.

“Yay.” Ladybug cheered weakly. Had he known better, Chat would have thought she was also dreading it.

The event organiser smiled, and headed inside to sort out the last details. The two heroes waited anxiously outside. 

When they received the thumbs up from their host, the two advanced cautiously, almost robotically towards the entrance. The first set of doors slid open and they stepped inside.

Ladybug let out the breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding; the doors had been cooperative. She let a smile invade her face as she and Chat Noir continued their path. The entrance airlock was quite a big space. Nothing to do with the American ones. 

She started to wave at the children she spotted on the other side of the second set of doors. 

Chat hung back a little, observing her. She really knew how to work a crowd, he noted with a smile. Seeing his partner so relaxed helped his shoulders untense a little. He was with Ladybug, the bringer of Luck; nothing bad could happen to him while they were together. 

He’d barely registered that last thought when she slammed into the transparent panels that separated them from the main hall. 

“Ow!” She rubbed her nose. She heard laughter coming from the other side, and gave the children two thumbs up. They thought it was a skit. Excellent.

“My Lady, are you okay?” Chat rushed to her side to examine her, taking care to exaggerate his movements so as not to worry the people on the other side. 

“I’ll get over it.” She scrunched up her nose. 

“Do you want a magic kiss?” Chat Noir wasn’t actually kidding. Maybe it would help Ladybug’s reddening complexion.

“No thanks, Chaton.” Ladybug sighed and approached the door again. It didn’t budge. She stepped away, came forwards. Still nothing.

After waving at what she assumed was the movement detector for what felt like an eternity without any results (were there no technicians around to come and open the door for them? Or even just a kind soul?), she let out a frustrated sigh and stalked back to the middle of the hallway, turning her back to her audience. 

Chat took over trying to open the door, jumping around to try and trigger the motion detector. He made faces at the crowd inside the main hall, which earned him many a giggle from the children. They didn’t seem concerned about their predicament at all. 

He turned towards his partner to get her to join him in the clowing around, but his smile died on his lips as he took in her slumped shoulders.

“My Lady? Is everything okay?”

“I just…” She tucked her bangs behind her ears, shaking her head. “I don’t get why this is happening.”

“I’m sorry, Bugaboo. It’s all my fault.” He embraced her in a half hug, before elaborating for Ladybug’s raised eyebrow. “It’s not the first time this has happened to me. It must have something to do with the fact I carry the Kwami of destruction. It somehow messes with technology.”

Ladybug sighed. “I doubt it’s as simple as that. I’ve been stuck between two sliding doors before, too. If we go by your logic, then they should open by the holder of the Creation Miraculous just looking at them.”

“Any door should do that for you, really.” He winked, and it brought the hint of a smile to her pouting lips. “Really though, you’d think Paris’ superheroes can operate sliding doors. It’s a good thing Hawkmoth can’t akumatise objects.”

“Not too loud, you’ll make him figure out a way to do it.” She punched his arm lightly. 

“I’m sure we’ll manage to get out eventually. We just need to work together!” 

Ladybug smiled and held out her fist. “You and me against the world?”

“Always. And especially against automatic doors.” He fistbumped her.

They turned around and walked back to face their new nemesis. 

“Now, it can’t be a matter that we’re not heavy enough, because otherwise kids wouldn’t be able to come in or out of this place.” Chat noted. “A little awkward for a children’s hospital, if you ask me.”

“You forget they probably wouldn’t be coming in alone; they’d have some kind of adult supervision.”

“Hmm.” Chat stroked his chin as he thought. “What if we tried jumping at the same time? Maybe it would trigger something?”

“Doesn’t hurt to try.” Ladybug shrugged. “On the count of three?”

“One… Two… Three!” 

Both tried to put as much power as they could in their landing, to no avail.

“How about I try and Cataclysm it?” Chat kicked the door lightly, checking its resistance.

“Not sure how good an idea that would be. Remember Reflekdoll?” Ladybug made a face. “I think I’d much rather be locked in than face wild doors.”

“Good point.” He crossed his arms over his chest and resumed his observation. “What about a Lucky Charm?”

His partner’s eyes lit up as she considered it. “You know what, it’s not like we have anything to lose, or like they’re trying to help us get out.” She nodded towards the inside of the building. The guests all looked at them and waved; the event organiser tapped on his watch. “Lucky Charm!”

A small Statue of Liberty keychain landed in her hand. Ladybug rolled her eyes. She knew it was just like New York, Tikki didn’t have to taunt her like that.

“We probably would need that if this door opened with a key.” Chat shook his head. “What are we supposed to do with it now?”

Ladybug looked around, hoping an idea would impose itself as she scanned their surroundings. Apart from throwing the keychain at the door and hoping the glass would shatter upon impact, though, nothing seemed to come to mind.

“Wait a second.” Chat picked up the Lucky Charm and watched it twirl in the air. “Isn’t that the same object you got when we were fighting Techno-Pirate?”

“Doorman!” They both exclaimed at the same time, a smile brightening their faces as they looked into each other’s eyes. “Do you have his number?” 

They slumped a little at their synchronicity. What had appeared like a perfect solution clearly wasn’t one if they had no way of contacting the New York superhero.

“Well, I guess that confirms my theory that you’re stuck with me, my Lady.” Chat gave her a small smile.

“You know what, I don’t mind being stuck anywhere with a friend like you.” She tapped his shoulder affectionately.

“Hey, that’s my line!” Chat frowned.

“What do you mean?” Ladybug asked, her brow furrowing in confusion. Yes, she’d stolen the line; but from Adrien, not Chat Noir.

“That’s what I told my friend when we were stuck together in the same situation.”

“Huh. That’s what my… friend told me when we were stuck between sliding doors!”

“Would it be too purr-sonal to ask when or where that happened to you?” He asked almost shyly.

“It was in New York.” Ladybug replied cautiously.

“No way, me too!” He paused. “What are the odds that we’d each get stuck with someone else in the same city?”

“New York is pretty big. With a lot of automatic doors.”

“True.” Chat looked at his feet. “And it’s not like it also happened twice to you, anyway.”

“Actually, it is like that.” Ladybug paled slightly.

“I’m guessing that reduces the odds quite a bit.”

“We’d need Markov or Uncanny to calculate them, but yes, I’d say they’re quite slim.” 

They stared at each other, Ladybug becoming increasingly red as the seconds ticked by.

“Marinette?” Chat whispered, a smile spreading on his lips.

“A-Adrien?” She stuttered back.

Before any of them could move or add anything else, the doors slid open. Both turned their heads towards the sound.

The event organiser stood in front of them, and cleared his throat. “Sorry to interrupt, but we really are running late now.”

Ladybug and Chat Noir blinked, remembering what situation had brought them there in the first place. 

“Right, of course.” Chat Noir extended a hand, which Ladybug took shyly. “Shall we, my Lady?”

“Let’s go.” She smiled weakly. She was holding Adrien’s hand. Which was also  Chat Noir’s. Which meant she’d been avoiding Adrien’s advances. The same ones she’d been seeking ever since his apologies in the rain. Adrien was in love with her. Like she was with him... The avalanche of thoughts that invaded her mind made her feel light-headed.

The event organiser moved aside and announced their arrival. 

Ladybug and Chat Noir moved forward, walking hand in hand. Maybe the Lucky Charm had been for them to finally find each other. And they had. Everything was going to be just fine. 

Together, they picked up their walking pace. 

And crashed into the clear door panels, which just had to close as they were strolling through them.

“Guess we really are destined to be stuck with one another.” Chat chuckled as he rubbed his sore nose.

“You know what, Chaton? I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

[arandompostarchive]

Inure - Ch. 1

SAVED WORK

Summary: To some, The Specter is a serial killer. To some, a hero. But to everyone, you were entirely a mystery. You had no history, just a list of victims a mile long. No matter how many people searched your name, they could find anything. If only they had the spelling right. Now, you’ve come across some unfortunate information that drives you out of your usual shadows and into the path of the Avengers. Including two of the more reclusive members of the team. And it’s hard to pick only one of them.

***

The man ran through the hall, his footsteps echoing throughout his house. He tried to navigate the dark halls, too scared to turn on lights or stop and think. He turned every so often, hoping your figure wasn’t behind him anymore. But it always was. He was panicking, you could tell. He could feel sweat stick to the inside of his white button down and the creases of the dress pants he had yet to take off.

He tried to avoid the small side tables and expensive foreign vases that lined his hall. He had managed to trip over a few tables though, knocking the glass onto his floor, shattering it. Each time he’d whisper a soft curse. There was glass beneath your shoes that probably cost millions of dollars. You found it funny. Even now, running for his life, money was still at the back of his mind.

He ran into the next room he saw, his office. A closed off space with nowhere to run. He turned around, looking at each wall. You could hear a string of curses fall from his mouth before he turned to you.

His small study still had a lamp on, the room dimly lit with the yellow-tinted light.

“Please, what do you want? Money? I can do that. Hell, I can get you your own house! I’ve got connections. I can find people for you! Other people! Please, don’t.”

Now, most people would feel bad about this. Chasing a man through his own home with certain ill intention. But you had seen his life. You’d seen what he does to people. He’d tear apart families, kidnapping people and selling any drug he could find. His hands were soaked in blood, something you could understand. But while you had killed, you picked your victims well. They were the most guilty people you could find. Murderers, kidnappers, kingpins, anyone who managed to escape justice.

Some called you a serial killer, a term that wasn’t exactly incorrect. Some thought you were a vigilante, which also wasn’t wrong. But no matter what, everyone was silently grateful for everything you did.

You always found a new target. From whispers on the street, other criminals, cops who needed a break, sometimes Nick Fury himself would send you a case file or two. You had seen it all, people with souls blacker than night. And this man was no different.

“I don’t want money, Laurence. You’ve killed innocents. You’ve let people die. You’ve heard them beg for mercy and have granted none. Why would I give you a luxury you haven’t given any of your victims?”

The man stuttered. His eyes darted around, frantically trying to find something. Maybe a weapon or just an idea of how to get out of this mess. He suddenly spoke, his voice shaking and cracking. “Because I have information! There’s this man who’s building some huge weapon. Probably wants to take New York out. He could start wars with this thing, yeah? It’ll kill millions in a heartbeat. I know what he’s got! I know what he’s doing, I’ve met the guy! I’ll tell you everything.” He spoke quickly, hoping to finish before you decided to end him. “But not if I’m dead.”

You scoffed. “Tell me, why on Earth would I accept the pleas of a dead man?” You asked. It was a real question, despite your sarcastic tone.

“I’ve got the info! He was chatting with some friends of mine, gave ‘em a whole file about it.” He reached toward the desk and pulled a file off of it, showing it to you. It read “SPECTR2” on the front in small, black script. Your eyes widened and you grabbed the file from him.

He watched as you read over it and confirmed his theory. He was right. Whoever this man was, he had the real thing.

“Alright, fine.” You said, accepting his offer.

“Oh thank god! I knew you’d be reasonable, you’re all about ‘the greater good’, yeah? I’ll tell you whatever you want, lady.” He said, relief washing over his features.

You smiled. “Yeah.” You held the file at your side. “Thing is, I know all about this project already. I don’t need you.”

The panic quickly spread across his face again and he racked his brain for something else. “C’mon, don’t I get something here?” He said, glancing at the walls to find some kind of weapon.

You sighed. “Fine. I’ll make your death quick.” You said, taking out one of your swords. He only had a minute to react before he was already dead. You had gotten used to the sight of death, though it wasn’t your favorite thing, there was something satisfying about knowing you had avenged people in some way.

His blood had already stained the carpet he had surrounding his desk and leaked along the cracks of the wooden floor. You groaned at the thought of cleaning your shoes after this and sat down at his desk chair, looking for any other info on the man starting up Project SPECTR again.

***

“So you want us to team up with some psycho killer?” Tony said, leaning back in his usual chair. The meeting room was packed, each member of the team, and some newer additions, crowded together at one table with Steve stationed at the front.

“She has information, Tony. She says lives are in danger.” Tony looked at him ridiculously.

“I’ve got my share of psycho’s on this team and now we’re working with another?” Tony gestured to Bucky and Loki’s side of the table. He got a glare from Nat and he only shrugged his shoulders in response. “Her terms are insane! She wants immunity for every crime she’s done or ever will do. That doesn’t sound insane to you? What if she’s got some master plan and we won’t be able to arrest her for it?”

Nat looked between Steve and Tony. It was obvious they weren’t getting anywhere.

“She’s got info we need. If she wanted to enact some ‘master plan’ she’d just use whatever death machine she’s got, not tell us about it. If she’s serious, we’ll hold up our end. If she’s messing with us, we won’t and we’ll lock her up on site. But if she’s really found plans for what could be the world’s next terrorist attack, we at least need to see her proof.”

Tony looked to Nat, “She’s basically holding the world hostage! Either she gets to do whatever the fuck she wants or everyone dies. We’re really letting that slide?”

This time Steve spoke, though he glared at Tony a bit for his cursing. “I didn’t say I liked it. She’s put us in a tough situation. And Nat’s right. If she’s lying in any way, we’ll lock her up. We’ve got to living lie detectors at this table.” He gestured to Loki on one side of the table and Wanda on the other. Tony only rolled his eyes, silently accepting the argument.

“Are we sure about this? I mean, if she’s telling the truth, then we’ve got some sociopath with a death ray somewhere. But what if she’s lying? She’ll be in the compound. Even if we can lock her up, what if we aren’t able to before she accomplishes whatever task she’s trying to?” Sam said as soon as the room had quieted a bit. A few team members nodded along, considering the possibility.

“We have to take that risk.” Steve said.

***

You strode into the Avengers’ compound, appreciating the space. It was larger than what you were used to. You had jumped from house to house, staying away from law enforcement. If all went well though, you wouldn’t have to worry about that anymore.

There were a few Avengers there to greet you. You had recognized them from the news and you were interested in seeing Natasha here. Among them, you saw Tony Stark. You’d recognize him a mile away. He looked different from his father, though he had the same sarcastic look on his face. You considered punching him now, maybe giving him a serious injury. But, sadly, there really were lives at stake.

Captain America stepped closer to you, holding out his hand. You took it hesitantly, the gloves of your suit meeting his hands. You appreciated the hood of your outfit now with the light reflecting off of windows and into your eyes. It was at least a little bit of protection.

“Specter. Good to meet you. I’m Captain Rogers, just call me Steve.” The other Avengers stepped to his side, making you slightly uncomfortable with how close they were. You couldn’t show it though. You had to be steeled, show no fear. Especially since you were in the lion’s den.

“This is Natasha, Tony, and Thor. We’ve got a meeting room just this way.” He got straight to business and began leading you away. You were careful to let the four Avengers go in front of you, and you were certain at least Natasha had noticed this action. Tony kept glancing back to you, slightly nervous. You could accept that. You felt nervous too, though you had gotten good at concealing your nerves, even before you had ‘died’.

You entered the room which had all of the other Avengers in it as well as five empty chairs. You were seated at the end, directly next to Natasha. Steve settled himself in the end chair right next to you. You looked at the rest of the group who were all doing a terrible job of pretending not to stare at you.

“Alright, Specter. Should we call you Specter?” You nodded, letting Steve continue. “Your conditions are questionable to say the least. We need to figure out if you’re actually telling the truth about this weapon first.”

“That’s fine,” you began, “I’d do the same.” You opened up your file, noting how there was a small camera above you, casting a picture of the file onto a board at the front of the room. You smiled at the innovation, curious about how exactly it worked. It had been a while since you’d gotten to appreciate technology, and where better than the home of a Stark.

“This is a real file. I worked on this project years ago. It was meant to help heal people. Stitch them back together, even when they were on the brink of death. But it malfunctioned. I can tell you this is real. Check any references you like, though it’ll be hard to get your hands on. We never made digital copies, this is our original paper.”

Tony squinted at the paper, seeming confused by it.

“And by we, you mean…?” Another man trailed off. You recognized him as Hawkeye, though you hadn’t memorized their actual names.

“Me and Howard Stark. We worked on it back during the war, it was like our pet project.” Tony seemed less confused now.

“That was over half a century ago. How exactly are you standing here?” You sighed at Hawkeye’s question.

“It’s a rather long and annoying story. Let’s keep it simple and say I’ve effectively scared off death.”

“Guys,” Tony said, still looking at the projection of the file. The room turned to him and you were thankful for whatever subject change he had to offer. “I’d love to say she’s full of it, but I know my father’s handwriting. That’s his signature too at the bottom.” As he pointed the small camera zoomed in. You’d have to ask him about the technology’s design later. Assuming this actually went well. You slightly cringed at the thought of speaking to a Stark again, but you’d manage for the sake of a new discovery. “Hey, Friday?”

“Yes Boss?”

You heard a woman’s voice in the room that didn’t belong to anyone present. You quickly figured out it was an AI system Stark had made.

“How well does that match Howard’s handwriting?”

There was a beat of silence before the AI, Friday, spoke again.

“It’s a perfect match.”

The team didn’t seem to know if that was good or bad.

“So there’s really someone set on ending humanity?” A man said across the table. You remembered his moniker being something bird themed, like Hawkeye’s, but it wasn’t coming to you.

“Believe me, I wouldn’t be anywhere near this place unless absolutely necessary,” You said. The Captain glanced around the table and the group seemed to silently make their decision.

“Alright. We’ll meet your terms, but understand that you must stay here through his whole process. No ‘missions’ of your own.” You thought over his offer. It was slightly tempting. Though you’d miss your little hunt for criminals, it would be nice to have a house for longer than a week.

“Fine. But you can’t bind my powers or spy on me or some bullshit.” The Captain nodded, agreeing.

Suddenly, you were a temporary Avenger.

***

“I don’t like her. She’s too calm. We’re facing a giant death machine and she’s completely stone faced.” You could overhear the conversation from where you stood outside the Avengers common area. Natasha had offered to show you around and you had denied, instead accepting a map and list of locations you’d be interested in.

They were sitting around in a circle of couches, all facing each other. Some of the members seemed distracted. Like one with long hair who was slowly stroking the spine of a book he carried in his hands and another with a striking metal arm. You had to admit, the team was certainly good-looking.

You continued to listen to the conversation, though you had lost a bit of the argument when you retreated into your thoughts.

“What can we do? I’m hardly happy about this, but she’s holding the world hostage, like you said. Millions might die if he didn’t have that info.”

“And what, we’re trusting a serial killer? She’s murdered who know’s how many people and we’re supposed to just sit here and fucking sing Kumbaya?!” Tony said. You could see his point. You wouldn’t trust you either.

“Many of us have killed.” Loki said, offering some perspective and hoping someone else would continue his point. He was still on ‘house-arrest’ and was hardly considered trustworthy. Stark wouldn’t listen no matter how silver his tongue was. But the others seemed to at least consider his words with the exception of Hawkeye who seemed upset that he even had to hear Loki’s voice.

“He’s right Stark. I’d hardly say my hands are clear, but here I am.” Natasha added, taking up Loki’s silent offer to continue his argument.

“I’m not okay with this. She’s absolutely mental. I can’t find anything on her besides media speculation. SHIELD didn’t have anything on her, despite the fact that she’s a well-known criminal and she’s got no history. No names attached, nothing. Just media speculation which is all made up. I checked.”

You took this time to walk out from the hall, the click of your shoes making the group look up. “It’s because you have the spelling wrong.” The entire team looked nervous at being caught. “Don’t feel bad. Of course you’d talk about me, I’m a stranger in your midst.” That seemed to calm some of them down, though they still looked wary of you. Stark was the first to speak.

“We’ve got the spelling wrong?” He asked.

“I’d expect so. You’re spelling my name as ‘Specter’, a ghost, like the media does. Try S-P-E-C-T-R, you’ll find a little more.” You before turning and walking out of the room. While you weren’t excited about opening up your backstory, it’d make this whole ‘trust’ thing a lot quicker. And if you were going to get anywhere, there’d need to be some sort of trust.

***

Project SPECTR - August, 1940

Howard Stark and Dr. Y/n L/n began SPECTR in August of 1940 and have been working on it for three years now.

It’s expected to help Allies win the war, though Dr. L/n believes it could— and should— be used for other purposes. There have been several malfunctions so far and I am unsure how they will continue. Stark has been promoting the idea among generals and strategists, despite the lack of finished product. Dr. L/n suspects it will not be finished by the time Stark suggests, in two weeks. She has told various generals not to expect anything in two weeks, though all generals seem to unfortunately favor Stark’s estimates. They plan to run a test run in one week and fully activate the machine. Both Stark and Dr. L/n hope it will be completely stable for at least ten minutes.

There was a messy signature at the bottom, though Steve identified it quickly as ‘Margaret Carter’.

They read through a few other files, and learned more about the original project. Reportedly, there was a severe malfunction, resulting in Dr. L/n’s death. Peggy had shut down the project immediately after, despite Howard’s begging that it would still work. There had apparently been a rift in their friendship over Dr. L/n’s death.

It also said that the Doctor’s body had disappeared in 1992, only weeks after Howard’s death, which had sparked a few conspiracy theories for those aware of her connection to Stark and Carter, two famous names. She was a leading scientist and was making seriously impressive strides. Stark was disappointed she had died so soon. He couldn’t help but wonder what she would’ve done.

“Is that Specter?” Sam asked about the Doctor working on the project. Though the team seemed unsure of the answer, Steve responded.

“It must be. Why else would she draw our attention to this. She’s got personal experience with whoever is trying to restart the project, though I’m not entirely certain why a machine to heal people will be turned into a new weapon.”

The team tossed theories back and forth and you listened in, smiling when a few of them guessed right. You slipped away soon after though, heading down the hall to the training room.

[vs-redemption]

Crime is Common. Logic is Rare. (ch.20)

Chapter twenty: meeting two bosses (HawksxGN!Reader)

Plot summary: You thought your hands were full as a regular quirk geneticist, but then you meet Hawks and things get even more exciting!

Warnings:  

⚠️This story contains spoilers from the manga.

⚠️Some events and plot points have been altered from the original manga

Tag List: @gayforkeigo @marshmallow-witch @redflannel @toyo-shiro @elsasshole @astronomyturtle @iambashfulperson

Next Chapter : Chapter Guide 

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” the president of the Hero Public Safety Commission says while giving a slight bow. She was smiling, but it somehow seemed forced and distant. You weren’t sure if there was truly something off about her greeting or if you were just biased knowing everything she’d put your boyfriend through. This was the woman who had forced Hawks to endanger himself by infiltrating the villains. The same woman who had decided it was worth it for Best Jeanist to die and for Hawks to become a murderer. But she didn’t know that you knew all of that, so you had to be pleasant.

“Likewise,” you say, trying to match her level of cold politeness.

“I meant to go out to the lab and meet you when you were studying the nomus there, but I never got the chance,” the woman tells you. “I was curious about the person our Hawks had suddenly taken an interest in. It was the first time he’d ever asked a favor of the commission, so of course we were intrigued.”

“Aw boss, stop it!” Hawks groans playfully from next to you, “You’re embarrassing me.” To anybody else it probably appeared that the winged hero had a very close and comfortable relationship with his boss to speak to her this way, but you had known him long enough now to be able to tell when he was faking that incredible charisma and when it was genuine. Being able to read Hawks wasn’t the only way to know the true nature of the relationship though. It was made very clear by the irritated scowl Hawks received from the president. She didn’t appreciate his theatrics. You didn’t feel sorry for her, but you could admit to yourself that it was most likely a difficult job trying to manage a person like Hawks, especially when he didn’t want to be managed.

“Well, I don’t want to keep you guys from important hero stuff,” you say while reaching into your bag and pulling out a plastic bento box filled with rice, vegetables, and fried chicken. “I was just swinging by to drop off Hawks’ lunch on my way to work.”

“You made me lunch?!” you boyfriend raises his feathery eyebrows, pretending to be surprised even though you’d discussed the idea a few days prior. He was so busy now that it was nearly impossible for you to meet up in private. It was also difficult to discuss things secretly in public. So, it was decided that you would start to bring him lunch with whatever news you had for him written on a napkin inside. It was a little risky, but as long you always delivered the bento box directly into his hands things should be okay. The only problems were coordinating when he’d be at Commission headquarters and finding a way for him to respond to your messages. The only solution for the former was for Hawks to quickly drop his used lunchbox back off with you in between his hero and villain duties. It was a hectic lifestyle, and you hoped it wouldn’t have to continue for very long.

“Of course I did,” you flash a smile at the president before leaning into Hawks’ side. “He works so much, I have to make sure he eats something to keep up his energy.” You send your boyfriend a stern glare, “Something at least mildly healthy.” He wraps an arm around you presses his lips to your cheek.

“I think it’s actually just an excuse for you to come see me,” he teases and you acknowledge that there was some truth to that. Hawks’ boss was starting to look uncomfortable and impatient so you thank her for taking the time to meet you, say goodbye to Hawks, and then make your way to catch the next train to Jaku hospital.

Dr. Garaki was much stricter with you now that you knew about his second secret lab. He not only had you leave all your belongings in a locker now, but also had you go through a metal detector to check for any hidden devices you might have on your person. He was very apologetic about it every time, but you assured him that you understood the need for such precautions. You now had access to all his nomu research and he wanted to keep the secret contained as much as possible. It was already a bit stressful for him knowing you had the knowledge that he had been close friends with All For One and was now working directly with the League of Villains by providing them with Nomus.

“I’m going to introduce you to someone today,” the doctor tells you as you step into the elevator together. “It’s the person we’re going to be giving All For One’s quirk to.”

“Oh,” a knot of dread forms in your stomach. “But we’ve only just started doing simulations for that experiment. We’re nowhere near ready to do human trials.”

“There’s no time for all that,” the doctor sighs while taking off his glasses to rub his eyes warily. “Of course we want the highest chance of success possible though, so we’re going to be doing a few test runs with just his DNA before we go ahead with the real procedure.”

You wanted to object for so many reasons. You had a decent understanding now of how the nomus had been created even though it made you sick knowing how Dr. Garaki had fused the corpses of random people in excruciating detail. Thanks to your quirk, you’d identified some of the issues that were causing the fused DNA to look so mutated. This was hopefully going to improve the nomus ability to function more like a human with complete independence rather than mindless monsters. There hadn’t been a chance to test this theory though since the nomus took so long to finish. Sure, you might be able to get a living person’s DNA to merge with All For One’s, but there was no guarantee that the person would still be themselves or even be human for that matter.

The elevator doors slide open and you walk into the familiar lab where you’d done all of your quirk training until now. It didn’t take long for your eyes to land on the figure of a scrawny person hunched over one of the lab tables, tapping a finger impatiently against the smooth black surface. He had a head full of messy white hair that fell down to his shoulders. You didn’t want him to turn around, but knew it was inevitable.

“It’s about time, Doctor.” The man’s voice comes out dry with a slight whine that sent chills up your arms and neck. “You know I don’t like to be kept waiting.”

“I was only gone a few minutes,” the doctor seemed unaffected by the person’s creepy presence which only intensifies the moment he turns to face you. He had blood red eyes surrounded by rings of flaking dead skin. His color was sickly pale, and his lips were dry and scabbed. He looked like a walking corpse.

“This is Tomura Shigaraki,” Dr. Garaki points both hands at the man as if her were a prize being revealed from behind a curtain. That was not a prize you wanted anything to do with however. Not even Hawks had been allowed to meet this man, yet here he was standing just a couple feet away from you. You’d rather not have the so called honor.

“The leader of the League of Villains,” you do your best to sound confident. “I never imagined I’d ever meet you. I’d shake your hand but…” Shigaraki narrows his eyes but his chapped lips pull up into a slight smirk.

“You’re going to be doing more than shaking his hand today,” The doctor actually laughs. He goes over to one of the cabinets and takes out some supplies. “You’re going to be drawing his blood and running a few other tests.”

You had no idea why you had to do this. Surely the doctor was quite capable of getting all the samples he needed by himself. There was no reason for you to have to get so up close and personal with a guy who’d demolished an entire city with just the touch of his hand. You knew his quirk allowed him to disintegrate anything he touched with all five of his fingers, and you wanted to stay as far away from that as humanly possible. The only explanation was that the doctor was testing you to see if you were still willing to stay neutral about his research even after being faced with a daunting situation like this. You muster up your courage and take the supplies from him.

“This will be easier if you sit down,” you tell Shigaraki who raises the skin above his eyes. There was no hair there so you were hesitant to say eyebrows. You point to a stool and he takes a seat.

“If you hurt me in any way, I won’t hesitate to kill you,” his raspy voice sent another wave of fear through you but you only frown at him in response.

“I hope you’re not afraid of needles then,” you hold out your hand as a signal for him to give you his arm. “Or else I’m in big trouble.” The doctor chuckles at your humor but Shigaraki just scowls.

After about an hour of tests, the doctor was finally satisfied with the amount of information you’d gathered. You were surprised when he allowed you to go home early. You wondered how Shigaraki got in and out of the building without being seen as the doctor walked you back to the elevator. He had to make sure you didn’t leave with anything important. Even though it was a relief to be out from under that horrible glare of Shigaraki, you couldn’t help but feel a little paranoid as you made your way home. You weren’t sure you could fit enough napkins in Hawk’s lunchbox to describe the terrifying experience you’d just had.

[peanutbutterjelly-pie]

Not According To Plan

Summary:  A fire truck, a smoky kitchen and an unexpected surprise are awaiting Dean after coming back home from work.

The last thing Dean expected to see after coming back home from work was a huge fire truck in front of his apartment building and his neighbors standing outside on the sidewalk in various stages of disgruntlement.

Dean leaps out of the Impala so quickly he almost forgets to turn it off and hurries over to the group of people as fast as possible, his heart nearly in his throat as his overly creative mind imagines the most horrible scenarios in a matter of milliseconds. “What happened?”

Several faces turn in his direction, most of them looking quite annoyed but thankfully not even the slightest bit worried or alarmed.

Small miracles.

Meg, their neighbor directly living across the hall, at last scoffs at him and shakes his head. “Why don’t you ask your boyfriend?”

Cas.

Dean’s chest clenches painfully as he suddenly notices his boyfriend not standing here with the others. Cas actually should’ve been home for hours, his shift at the police station having ended early, like every Friday.

So why --?

Before any disturbing pictures manage to invade his head, though, he spots Castiel a little on the side, sitting on a small wall with his face buried into his palms. He looks small and defeated, but thankfully perfectly alive.

“Cas!” Dean exclaims and instantly rushes over, his knees crying in protest as they hit the hard concrete when Dean kneels down to be on his boyfriend’s eye level. “Babe, you alright?”

Cas makes some incoherent noises into his hands, but otherwise refrains from elaborating.

“C’mon, Cas, talk to me,” Dean encourages him softly, laying one hand onto his thigh in a soothing manner. “You’re not hurt, right?”

Dean naturally is pretty sure he isn’t -- after all, neither the firefighters nor their neighbors would remain so calm if that seriously would be the case --, however, he wants Cas to say it out loud anyway.

Just to ease Dean’s mind.

As expected Cas’ head snaps up right away, his eyes wide. “No, no, of course not,” he reassures Dean hastily. “I’m physically unharmed. Please don’t worry about that.”

Dean smiles softly at him, already on the verge of whispering, “I will always worry because I love you more than anything in the world”, but in the end he only leans forward and presses a gentle kiss onto Cas’ lips. He’s not really keen on getting all emotional with so many people standing close by, but nevertheless he can’t help showing affection, especially after such an unexpected shock late in the evening.

“So, what happened, babe?” Dean wonders. “Why are our neighbors pointing the finger at you?”

“Because he burned your kitchen down,” Meg adds helpfully from the background, resulting in the people around her nod in confirmation.

Cas shoots Meg a dark glare, obviously highly displeased by such a public announcement, while Dean’s brows climb upwards as he stares at his boyfriend.

“You burned our kitchen down?”

Great.

Just great.

Cas, however, merely snorts. “It didn’t ‘burn down’,” he defends himself with the biggest pout in the history of pouts while at the same time using air-quotes like the adorable dork he is. “There was just a lot of smoke and the smoke detectors went off --”

He rambles on, about the device’s noises and how he tried to make it stop, how he utterly failed and the fire department showed up soon after, ushering every single resident outside into the cold, how they’re forced to stand around for over half an hour now ...

And meanwhile Dean simply feels a lot of things, but mostly it’s relief and gratitude for things not turning out as bad as they could have been.

“Cas, honey,” Dean eventually cuts into Cas’ rambles, “what were you even doing in the kitchen in the first place? You’re a terrible cook.”

Cas pulls a face. “I’m not ‘terrible’.”

Dean chuckles as he leans a little closer. “Babe, I love you and you have a lot of amazing qualities, but cooking is not one of them. Remember Thanksgiving last year?”

Cas starts to squirm at the reminder. “I just forgot I had already salted the potatoes.”

“And so you salted them twice.”

“It wasn’t my fault.”

Dean smiles and doesn’t even give a damn that he probably looks inappropriately lovesick and dumb. After all, that’s what Cas is doing to him on a regular basis and he’s not ashamed to show it.

“Besides, I wasn’t cooking,” Cas picks up their earlier topic. “I was baking. And the pie turned out perfectly, thank you very much. You would have loved it.” He deflates a bit as he adds, “I just messed up with the oven’s timer somehow. So the pie ended as a piece of coal and the smoke …”

Triggered the alarm.

Sounds about right.

“Why were you even baking a pie on a Friday night anyway?” Dean can’t help wondering. “We could’ve baked one together on the weekend, if you’d have wanted to. Or we could’ve visited that cute little bakery around the corner and get ourselves some nice slices …”

Cas groans and buries his face in his palms again. “But it was supposed to be a surprise. For you.”

Dean already thought as much, yet his heart swells anyway. “Cas …”

“And I wanted to do it tonight before I would’ve lost my nerves or something,” Cas continues to rant. “I’ve been thinking about it for weeks. Months even. Hell, probably since the day I met you.” He scoffs. “And tonight I told myself to just do it. And I knew you wouldn’t appreciate grand gestures. Restaurants, candle light, flowers or even a frigging orchestra. That’s not you -- and frankly, that’s not me either.”

Dean can’t help a frown, wondering where the hell this rambling is even supposed to go.

“So I figured a homemade pie would be the best way,” Cas adds, not detecting the confusion on his boyfriend’s face. “A simple gesture, yet so powerful. I even got the recipe from your mother and she actually started to cry when I told her about my plan, so be prepared for that, you’ll probably get some teary phone calls tomorrow -- at least if everything goes according to plan -- well, not entirely according to plan because having the fire department showing up clearly wasn’t part of that -- I only aimed for the pie and the proposal and maybe some naked engagement activities afterwards, firefighters surely weren’t on the menu -- although, I have, of course, to confess that their uniforms are nice to look at and if you would ever consider borrowing one of these --”

While Cas continues to babble some nonsense, obviously a direct result of his nerves going downhill, Dean simply gapes at him with a slack jaw and a wildly hammering heart threatening to burst out of his ribcage.

Suddenly he’s aware of everything. Of Cas talking himself into a frenzy, of their neighbors suddenly leaning in interestedly, probably not having been aware of the reason of that little fire until now, of the firemen in the background barking orders, apparently ready to wrap everything up.

And just a second later Dean’s entire attention focuses on Cas alone.

“You … you …” His throat feels bone dry all of a sudden. “You wanted to propose?”

Dean feels like he’s been hit by a train. Granted, they’ve been together for about two years now and Dean pretty much knew Cas was it for him the first time he saw his gummy smile, they even talked about marriage a couple of times, particularly in the last few months, mostly jokingly about it and yet with a serious undertone, and still Dean feels completely unprepared for this.

“This is not how I pictured it to go,” Cas grumbles. “I got the pie and a ring in my sock drawer and an emotional speech, and instead now we’re sitting here, out in the cold, and I almost burned our apartment down, and all of our nosy neighbors are witnessing my failure --”

Dean doesn’t give him any more time to freak out as he presses his lips against Cas’ in the most sensual kiss of his life, happiness filling every inch of his being.

He had no idea how true joy felt until this very moment.

So when they eventually pull apart he beams at Cas and whispers against his lips, “Yes.”

Cas blinks, at first most likely wondering what Dean is even referring to, and it takes this wonderful idiot an embarrassingly long time to catch up.

“You’re saying yes?”

His voice is pure awe and wonder and Dean never loved him more.

“Of course I’m saying yes,” Dean emphasizes. As if there ever could’ve been a different answer.

Cas, however, doesn’t seem to understand Dean’s train of thought. “But … but this was a terrible proposal. Horrible.”

Dean grins. “It was perfect.”

Cas shakes his head. “But … the fire … the lost pie …”

“Cas, it’s you,” Dean states. “That’s all that matters. You could’ve asked me while sitting on the freaking toilet and I would’ve said yes.”

Anywhere.

Anytime.

There’s not a single doubt in Dean’s mind. This is it.

Just like he knew two years ago when Cas smiled at him for the first time.

“But … but …” Cas seems a bit lost, obviously highly overwhelmed that nothing went as scheduled. “I technically didn’t even ask you yet.”

Dean laughs, loud and happy. “Then hurry up, you moron. I can’t wait to be engaged.”

For a moment it appears Cas wants to argue some more, but then his features soften impossibly and he breathes, “Dean, will you marry me?”

Dean kisses him again, whispering “yes, yes, yes” into his mouth, feeling elated and giddy beyond words, and he doesn’t even give a crap as he suddenly hears enthusiastic cheering from behind him and their next door neighbor Mildred muttering, “Well, now I’m not even mad I missed my soap opera. This is way better.”

Dean actually has to agree with her on that one.

So when some time later they’re finally back in their apartment and Dean gets his ring at last which is immediately followed by the naked engagement activities Cas had been hoping for, Dean just knows he’s the luckiest guy alive.

Because he has an awesome fiancé in his arms, a silver band on his finger and a smoky kitchen.

Sounds perfect to him.

[erintoknow]

murder lives forever

Spiraling - A Fallen Hero: Rebirth Fan-fiction

[Read on AO3]

This is who you are now. Better get to work. Tw: death, self-harm [Savages]

“Rosie – position?”

Her voice crackles over the helmet radio, “Yeah, I’ve got clear sights.” Can hear the little hesitation of held breath.

Wait for it.

“You sure about this, Ghost?” She’s already switched to your new moniker, you note. Say what you will about Rosie; the woman is a professional. After tonight the rest of the city will know to mark ‘Puppetmaster’ as out of date.

“It’s – it’s not like you’re going to kill him. Just… flush the game if I give the signal.”

“...right. Okay, you’re the boss, boss.”

“Don’t forget it.”

Tucking your chin down you drop over the edge of the roof you’ve been hiding on. Jet boosters cushion your fall to a light landing. Fastening your cape close around you, you make a difficult figure to spot in the gloom. An impossibly dark shape blending into the larger shadow.  Lou Marconi is a career bureaucrat who’s had a job working for the city for almost as long as it’s been called ‘Los Diablos.’ Long-lived and well-paid to be able to afford living in his own private mansion up on celebrity row.

This part of town, houses are further apart and street lighting is reduced. There’s a cool satisfaction to be had in how Marconi’s eagerness to flaunt his wealth only makes it easier for you to infiltrate. A brick wall delineates the edge of the lot. About as tall as you are.

It’s like he’s not even trying to keep you out.

A scramble over the top and you drop into a row of bushes. Tap the side of your helmet to switch into low-light vision. One of Mortum’s handy little programs starts tagging likely laser detectors. Under everything the pulsing thrum of a telepathic dampener blankets the minds in the building.

That’s your first target. With the Rat-King buffering you against the worst of it, you pull a song tight against your head – keep focused. Push forward to where the psychic chaff is the loudest. If you’re lucky, it’ll be a security station for the whole complex. Make your job easier.

So many shadows, so many nooks and crannies for you to stick to as you move along the perimeter of the building. It’s an open secret that Marconi makes his living as one of Los Diablos’s most bribable officials. If you’re going to reshape the city’s politics then the knowledge in his balding, wrinkled head is going to be invaluable.

Breaking into locked city hall safes, or cracking encrypted files is risky and time consuming. So you’ll break into his mind instead. He’s been avoiding public functions for a while now – paranoid little sleazeball. It’s like he thinks someone’s after him or something.

As you get closer to the dampener the pounding in your head intensifies. Can feel it in your teeth. A pressure pushing down, or something like the hiss of a CRT screen, a hissing pain that pierces through your skull with all the precision of a mortar round. Stripping away everything.

The Rat-King chitters in irritation. Sorry guys, we’re almost through this part, you promise. A small security station, wooden walls, windows. Hah. You were worried it would be inside the main building. But this? Marconi may have been around a few blocks but it’s clearly made him arrogant more than it has anything else.

Quick check up and down the walkway, no incoming patrols. Gritting your teeth you slide inside, stepping over the laser detect across the threshold. Inside, a bank of monitor screens takes up one wall while a bored looking man in a blue guard outfit reclines in a chair with his back to the door, feet up on the desk. There in the corner, the stainless steel tube about as thick as your torso rises from floor to ceiling. Take that out and you can finally breathe.

But first the guard.

He doesn’t even register you behind him until you’ve got your arm around his neck, crushing his windpipe. Your other hand claps over his mouth. He tries to pull free, slip out, fight back. But you’re the one in control here.

Finally the man goes limp and you let go. Immediately you get to work examining the control board. Dampeners consume a lot of electricity. You doubt they keep it live all the time, so…. There, the dail. Turn it down and the oppressive weight on your head easies up and fades away. It’s like standing up in the open desert after a week in confinement. Laughing you stretch out your awareness, casting wide and mentally tagging the notes of the guards patrolling the building. And… there’s Marconi in the dining hall, with some guests and… is that?

You sigh. So much for joy. Well, he’s the sole Ranger you haven’t fought yet. Suppose it was time.

Before you leave, you press your left hand to the dampener. The nanovores don’t need much coaxing to reduce the damn thing to dust. You’ll take no chances tonight.

As for the guard… He’ll wake up soon on his own. Raise the alarm. Grabbing his mind, currently placid in unconsciousness, you drag it down deeper, wrap it in a dream. On a whim you coax it to be something nice. Ice cream with his daughters.

There.

That should at least buy you time until the next check in.

Dining Hall is towards the back. You’ll swing around, wait for the bastard to go to the bathroom and snag him on the way back. If it goes well, you won’t even be noticed.

It’s not going to happen like that, but you can hope.

Sure enough, Rosie cuts in on the radio. “Uh, hey, Boss?”

“What?”

“I’m seeing some weird movement.”

“Police?” Was there a tip-off? Who? How? You didn’t even tell Rosie the actual mission until this evening.

“No, I don’t know what. It’s just… bad vibes, man.”

You grit your teeth. ‘Bad vibes’ huh. Well, you only have yourself to blame for encouraging Rosie to be candid. “I’ll take it under advisement. Keep your eyes on the roof.”

“Roger.”

The voice in your ear goes silent again. You hang at the corner. So far, you’ve stuck between the pair of patrols circling the grounds. Not much time left until someone discovers your work at the security station. Marconi is on the other side of those windows. Just his bodyguard with him still…

Fuck it.

Ducking your head down you break into a run, jumping over the hedge and crashing through the window. Alarms immediately start blaring as people start screaming. The Rat-King pulls your attention and you throw yourself down to the ground. Something flies over your head and explodes in a burst of light and sound outside.

As you get to your feet, you find yourself face-to-face with the bodyguard. “Marshal Steel.” You grit your teeth. “Playing private bodyguard?” Not even the inflexible Wei Chen is above making money on the side you guess. Disappointing.

Chen watches you, hands at the ready, a shoulder-mounted mini-missile system attached to his power armor. Great. “I can’t say I care what you think of me, Puppetmaster.”

“It’s Ghost.” You do your best sneer with a mirrored helmet. “Try to keep up, Marshal.” This is your only second time out, and first time using the name, but he doesn’t need to know that. Let them sweat a little.

“I’d heard the rumors, but you disappoint me, Puppetmaster.”

Rumors? So there was a tip-off. Who squealed?

You shake your head. Stay focused. Stay in control. “Just going to ask our friend here some questions. That’s all.”

Marconi bristles at that, presses himself back against the dining table, a half-eaten roll of bread in one hand. His face is bright red as he raises his voice “What are you doing!? Protect me!”

Chen frowns, a note of irritation spiking across his mind. What’s the matter Chen? Don’t like taking orders? He plants his feet, and you tense up, waiting for the missile you’ll have to dodge.

“No!” Marconi shouts, “Don’t blow up my house you idiot!”

“My orders are only to keep you safe.” Catch the briefest glimpse of a smile on Chens face as another rocket goes flying your way. You throw yourself sideways, crashing through the dinner table, the wood snapping in half under the sudden weight of your suit. Your helmet flashes black in response to the burst of light, ears ringing. Stun bombs? What is with these assholes and treating you with kids gloves? You’d think at least Chen would be willing to go for the kill.

Noise – people talking you can’t make out while your ears keep ringing. But, fuck. Marconi’s running. The roof. He’s going to the roof.

You grin.

Great.

You’d give Rosie a head’s up, but the fist coming down on your torso takes priority. You roll out of the way, scramble to your feet. Shake your head, think the ringing is calming down. “Alright. Fine.” You raise your fists. “Only fair I treat the Marshal too.”

“Hrm.” Chen frowns, staring at you. What’s he looking at? Seeing something – fuck – You push off, taking a swing at him. Force him to focus on the fight. He staggers backward. Gets his bearings and then swings his arm around at an unnatural angle. A plated fist catches you in the throat, knocking you to the floor.

Coughing, you sputter, pushing yourself backwards to put space between the two of you as you catch your breath. Damn, when could he extend his arm like that? The Marshal has some new tricks.

“So you’re just another contract killer after all.”

You dodge his fist as you get up, duck under his arm as you get behind him. “What are–” You cut yourself off, hiss, “Don’t think y–you can distract me. I know your tricks, Chen.”

He twists around as you dodge around him, “Do you?.”

Oh fucking goddamnit.

You grit your teeth. This. This is why you should just keep fucking quiet on operations. Don’t get mouthy, you idiot. The two of you trade blows as you dance around each other. This is not good. Not a good match up at all. You’re fast enough that Chen can’t really touch you save for the occasional lucky hit. But are any of your blows getting through that armor? He’s showing no signs of slowing down. You need to disengage. Grab Marconi before he gets away.

The Nanovores? Could they crack the armor? But what if they…? Steel is your enemy. Killing him is part of the end-game. Taking him out shouldn’t be sending your stomach into knots. Why did you even get these damn things if you weren’t going to use them?

Fuck it.

Gritting your teeth you catch his arm with your left hand. Start to coax the Nanovores to life and –

An explosion shakes the building, the chandelier above you both jostling in a chime of clattering glass.

You let go, jumping back. Heart in your throat.

Chen doesn’t press the advantage, glaring at you. “What did you do.”

“I didn’t do anything!” You raise your hands. Under your breath you activate the radio, “Rosie?”

“Boss! Something on the roof just went–”

“I know!” You hiss.

Chen narrows his eyes. “Who are you talking to–”

“Shut up!” You hold up a hand, tuck in your chin, not taking your eyes off Chen. “Keep an eye on the fucking roof. Don’t let him leave.” You jump backwards out of the way of Chen’s fist. “Goddamnit Chen, I’m not here to f–f–fucking kill anybody!”

“Then who set off that bomb, Ghost?”

“I don’t fucking know!” You grit your teeth. Fire is spreading through the building. Was it a bomb or a missile? Which would be better? And then there’s… “Shit.” You look away from Chen, run through the map in your head. “There’s people trapped.”

“What?” Chen tenses up, staring you down. “How do you know?”

“Don’t act stupid.” You snap back. “I know you know I’m a telepath.” You move towards the far end of the hall. “We need to get them out of here.” You put your hand against the wall, frown, glance back at Chen. “Don’t just f–fucking stand there, you idiot. Use your plasma cutter. Help me get through this wall.”

Chen frowns. Some sort of internal debate. Then he nods and follows you. “Roger.”

Fuck, this isn’t going to help you at all. It’s too like the days you and Chen worked emergency relief. But– “Why are you doing this?” Chen cuts through the wall, kicking it down.

“W–what?” You take stock of the other side. Looks like some kind of guestroom?  Still not far enough.

“You could have left this to me. It’s not your problem.” Chen follows your direction to the next wall you indicate with a tap of your hand.

“Don’t be stupid. I’m – I’m not a killer.”

Things would be so much easier if you were.

“Still.” Chen grunts, knocking down the weakened square of wall. “Not killing and actively saving are two different things.”

“S–shut up.” You hiss.

Now here’s a room with some damage. One wall is gone, open to the outside air as flames lick the edges, spreading across the ground and burning the furniture. There’s a hole in the floor where part of the basement roof caved in. With a hand gesture you take the lead, hopping down first into the cellar.

Some kind of storage room. More collapsed ceiling blocks the way out. Two panicking employees freeze in their efforts to dig their way out, looking up at you with dread. Ah shit.

Catch sight of a woman trapped under a toppled shelving unit at the far end. Ignoring the two men you push through the rubble towards her. Can hear the ‘thud’ of Chen following you down. Clearing out the rubble.

A broken gas pipe catches your attention and you divert to twist it closed at the nearest valve. Would be just your luck if there’s still enough gas to blow the room up when the flames get here.

Back to the woman. Grit your teeth as you strain to lift the shelf. Chen catches up with you and you jerk your head towards the woman, unconscious against the ground. “Get – get her out of here.”

Chen bends down, cradles her between his arms. As soon as he’s clear you let the shelf drop with a gasp of relief. Jesus. Those exercises are paying off. You shoo him away, as you catch your breath. “Go, idiot!”

He hesitates. Face unreadable. “Be careful.”

“Y–yeah whatever, just go!” You sag backwards as Chen finally turns, shielding his charge under his body as he shoulders through the collapsing rubble.

If you were smart you’d make your own exit now.

You aren’t smart.

Race to the hole up. Boost-jet jump back to the ground floor. The room is fully ablaze now. A second explosion rocks the building, sending you scrambling to keep your balance as you race through the hallway. Rosie’s voice crackles back over the static. “Holy shit, you alive down there?”

“I’m fine. Report.”

Rosie’s voice is frantic, speech rushed. “Guy was gonna fly out. I scared him into cover, then his damn chopper blew up.”

“Shit. Is he still alive?” You stretch out your awareness, canvas the dozen panicking minds fleeing the building.

“I don’t know! I can’t see anything in the smoke.”

“You did your job.” You job up the stairwell, run down the hallway to the roof access. “Pull out. Wait at the rendezvous.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice. Every damn cop in the city is going to be on you any second.”

“Consider me appraised.” You cut the connection, up another round of steps and then – oh. A chunk of the building has already collapsed. Well fuck. That’s not a good sign. Gritting your teeth you peer through the smoke and flame, try to appraise a chunk of roof that’s still stable. There!

A running jump with boosters flaring puts your hands just in range to grab the edge. Smoldering wood creaks under your weight as you swing in the open air. Arms scream complaints as you pull yourself up. Wheeze for breath once you’re on your feet. Shit. Not in total shape just yet you guess.

Firelight coats the ruins of the roof in a dozen criss-crossing shadows. Chunks of scattered metal litter the ground. You foot catches on something and you glance down. Dead body. Kick it over, and it looks like a guard. Blue uniform. Damn. Dead for an asshole like this? Not worth it.

Speaking of which…

There! The Rat-King directs your attention. Weak, stunned thoughts. You race across the roof to find a prone Lou Marconi on the ground. Blood gushes out of his nose. Broken? But still alive. That’s all you need. Who doesn’t want the two of you talking this badly?

Well, too bad. They failed.

Maybe – maybe wait until you’re somewhere safe before you say that.

With a grimace you pick up the bleeding man. Only one way off the roof from here. Can your booster jets handle both of your weights?

Fucking hell.

Holding the limp body against you, you take another running jump. Jets flaring against the pull of gravity as you plumet. Slowed, but not by enough. You crash into the brush, white fire cascading up your legs and into your spine. Momentum carries you forward still, sending you crashing against the perimeter wall and

fuck

fuck no no no…

You shake Marconi. Where’d his mind go? It was still there. However faint. However dim. Can’t check for a pulse or breath with your gloves on. Press a hand to his chest as tight as you can bear. Nothing.

You drop the body to the ground with a thud.

He… he was going to die stuck on that roof anyway right? So – so you didn’t really – you were trying to save him. Sure you were planning to rifle through his memories like a thief through cabinets, but you weren’t – you weren’t going to kill him.

Fuck.

fuck fuck fuck

–––

Watch your reflection in the mirror. Only minor bruises and sore muscles from tonight, but you’ll fix that.

The face in the reflection is empty, it’s eyes a rancid green, partially obscured under a veil of curling red threads twisted out of shape. Skin paler than anything has a right to be under Californian sun. Whoever you jacked your genes from clearly was never meant to see the light of day.

Don’t look down, stare ahead at that grimace, gritted teeth. The sharp pain. The knife clatters out of a hand as steam from the faucet brushes the silver, condensing against the glass. With a hiss you shift position, pressed against the counter. Too hot – too warm. You jerk the arm out from under the spray. Pat it down with a towel. Distant screaming alarm bells in the back of your head. Grab a stretch of bandage and wrap the wound.

You’re here. This is real.

Almost.

Almost fooled yourself back there. Sneaking in where you shouldn’t, dropping everything to get someone out of trouble. It’s not you anymore. Let it go.You put two Rangers in the hospital and humiliated a third. You destroyed priceless exhibits and ensured no one would ever remember your old alter ego ever again. Now someone’s died – directly because of you.

‘He was going to die up there anyway,’ ‘it wasn’t your fault.’ Excuses. If you hadn’t had Rosie keep him from the helicopter, then at least his death wouldn’t literally be on your hands.

There’s no turning back from this, only pressing forward. However far you can get before the end.

You’re not going to burn alone.

–––

Jane shades her eyes from the afternoon sun as she looks down at the business card in her hand, frowning. ‘Mia Ochoa.’ A reporter for LD Confidential. “Am I supposed to be impressed?”

The deceptively small Fillipino woman sitting across from her huffs at that. “It’s the most respected independent newspaper in Los Diablos.”

“Uh-huh.” Jane slides the card into her purse, making a show of thinking it over. Wound her professional pride. Make her think she has something to prove. “And… how can I help you, Miss Ochoa?”

Ochoa flips over to a blank page in her penpad, chewing on her pencil eraser. A serious look settles over her face. “I know you were at the Gala the night of Puppetmaster’s debut… and…” She hesitates, watching her lunch partner carefully. “I have reason to suspect you know more about what happened that night then anyone else.”

Jane’s eyebrows shoot up. She ducks down her head, hissing angrily. “And where do you get off making that kind of claim?”

From you, of course. You sent her the anonymous tip-off. Something to whet her appetite. Mia Ochoa is exactly what you need to start working the media angle. An established reporter with a respected reputation for pushing the edge, but not so famous as to be unapproachable by a nobody.

“I have my sources.” Ochoa answers, tactfully. “As I trust you have yours.”

Jane sits back, frowning. Drums her hand on the table. “Suppose I did. What’s your angle?”

Ochoa leans over the table, dropping her voice. “There’s something going on with this city. Something weird. I intend to get to the bottom of it.”

Hrrm… Jane hums to herself and shifts in her seat. Pulls out photocopied piece of paper. Ochoa’s eyes watch the paper as Jane spins it between her fingers. “You hear about Marconi?”

“You’re going to tell me it wasn’t a house fire.”

Jane purses her lips, puts the paper down on the table between the two of them. “Nooope.”

Ochoa picks up the paper, brow creasing as she tries to read the smudged print. “So the whole Puppetmaster arson thing was just a cover-up.”

“Oh, Ghost was there.”

She looks up at Jane. “Ghost?” Blinks. “Oh.” Looks back at the paper in her hands.

“And somebody wanted our friend dead. But it wasn’t Ghost.”

“Who?”

Jane spreads her arms wide, leaning back in her chair. “You’re the famed investigative reporter. Investigate.”

[whatcouldgowrong-ohthat]

Safer (Natasha X Reader)

It’s from your point of view, but here’s another addition! There are glimpses of the others being fluffy and sweet, so the ones who appear a bit will be in the tags, but this is strictly a NatXReader fic. Gotta thank @songforhema for helping me out XD

Summary: Various Avenger x Reader one-shots with songs from musicals. In this one — A moment of weakness has left you in the hospital and everyone is scared, but no one quite like Natasha. Song is “Safer” from First Date.

Warnings: Frustration, tears, ANGST, bits of comfort, cussing as always. Seriously, if you don’t think Nat was bi, I don’t know what to tell you. TRIGGERS: Talks of attempted suicide, cutting, anxiety attack. Seriously, if you are experiencing any of this, please take the necessary actions to look out for yourself. If any of this could hurt you to read, please don’t. 

Word Count: Almost 4.5k

Please don’t post my work anywhere without my permission.

Beep… Beep… Beep…

Beep… Beep…

“Hey, kid. We’d really like it if you’d wake up for us. The compound’s too quiet. It’s annoying actually. And you being here? Hell, it drives Nat crazy. It drives us all crazy, but…Just wake up for us, yeah? We all need you.”

You knew that voice. It was from Tony.

“The doctor says she’s probably in a bit of pain. Her mind’s still healing.” Rhodey. At least someone was securing that Tony wasn't going to fall into destructive habits.

But everything hurt. The idea of opening your eyes hurt.

Beep… Beep…

Beep…Beep… Beep…

“Y/N/N, it’s Sam. Hell, I’ll let you call me Sammy if you’d just open your eyes.” A sigh. From him? Was he frustrated? Angry at you? “None of us are angry, so calm your heart.” He chuckles and you’d give anything to smile. To twitch. Just something. “Damn, Y/N/N, you got us all worried. Nat’s been here the most. She just doesn’t say anything. I don’t think she knows what to say, but I figured you’d want to know.”

Beep… Beep… Beep…

Beep… Beep…

Beep…

“Hey, Miss Y/L/N, it’s Peter. I mean, duh, you probably know that from my voice. Dr. Banner said that’d be a thing. Um…we really miss you. And we all get it. No one’s mad. Really, we just want to see you wake up. You still gotta teach me how to do those latte leaf things for MJ. Remember, you promised that you’d teach me? 'M counting on it.”

“Actually, I don’t know if you remember me, Miss Y/N. Scott? Lang? Ant-man?  I tagged along with Pete here. I heard what happened and we thought it’d be cool if we did a puzzle with you while we’re here. Sound good?”

Beep…

Beep… Beep…

Beep…Beep… Beep…

“Think you could open your eyes for us, Y/N? It’s just Buck and me, but I know everyone would rush on over here if you’d wake up. Then again, Nat would probably be pissed, huh? She’d want to be here for that and if she missed it because of a cup of coffee? 

“Yeah, we’d never live that down.” You laughed, knowing Bucky was right. At least…you wanted to. Still, you couldn’t.

Beep… Beep…

“Alright, enough of this. We both know you’re fakin’ it, right? Come on, you know you could wake up at any second.” Silence. There weren’t footsteps…Were you alone? “I wish you came to one of us, Y/N. Hell, at least Nat or me. We got you into the Avengers. I thought — Well, I hoped we were closer than that. Shit! No, I didn’t mean to guilt you or anything. Fuck, your heart rate. Talk about a mood detector.” You could practically see him scratching the back of his neck. Freakin’ Clint. “I’ll make you a deal. You wake up when Tasha gets back from taking her pee break and I’ll start sharing coffee with you in the mornings. And none of that decaf crap that the others try to give us. Nah, we’ll have our little coffee cabinet all set up. I’ll even buy that peppermint tea you like. Deal? Just — Fuck, will you open your eyes?”

Beep…

It wasn’t a voice you heard next, disrupting the beep of the monitor, but instead a hand tracing the bandage on your arm. Natasha. You’d know the warm tingle from her touch anywhere. She was home for you, comforting and grounding yet exciting and nerve-racking all at the same time. She was supposed to be the scary one going on missions and coming back with enough injuries to give you a heart attack. It wasn’t supposed to be this way.

“I know that I have issues, Y/N. I face them, I swear. Think I overcome them then turn — they’re still there.” She sniffles and your heart clenches at the sound. Natasha doesn’t cry. At least, she doesn’t cry in front of people. Yet here the two of you are and all you want to do is open your eyes and hug her, tell her everything will be okay. “Wish that I was different.”

I don’t.

“I’d like to let go, but when I try to change there’s my past. And it’s always saying no.”

I get it, Nat. I do.

“Maybe it’s all ‘cause of your dad? His new kids? His new wife? Or why not just blame us…Hell, we’ve been nuts our whole lives.”

No, that’s not why! It’s not you! Any of you! Please, Nat…

She traces the edges of the bandage and the ache from the cuts is overwhelming. They were blaming themselves, but it wasn’t their fault. It was no one’s fault. You hit a low…had a moment, but it’s no one’s fault.

“When you’ve felt so alone since the moment of birth and you’ve struggled to find your own true sense of worth…” Hearing her talk about your own confessions makes your heart hurt. Her voice is shaking, cracking. Natasha isn’t one to wear her heart on her sleeve, to cry freely. She doesn’t like being raw, but she likes it with you. She likes being open with you. “When it seems there is no one across this whole earth to depend upon, you carry on. Just like you always do.” Her other hand takes yours, squeezing it gently. You try to squeeze hers, try to move a finger and just let her know that you’re here. “‘Cause it’s safer to rely on you. But Y/N, it’s not. If it were, you wouldn’t be here. You wouldn’t have hurt yourself. It’s — It’s okay to ask for help. We all need it from time to time. Look at Bucky or Tony or Bruce. Look at me. God, I wish you would look at me.”

Beep… Beep… Beep…

Everyone watched from outside the room, lined up against the wall. It was late, but no one was thinking about the time.  All their eyes were fixated on the girl lying in the hospital bed. Nat was curled into the uncomfortable chair, hand still holding Y/N’s. Clint was just inside, leaning against the window. They were Y/N’s family and eventually the Avengers weaseled their way into her heart. Each of them felt guilty for not seeing the signs. They felt like they should have, all of them have been on the receiving end of anxiety attacks and night terrors for years.

“I still don’t know how it happened.”

Sam looked at Tony upon hearing his voice, shifting his gaze to everyone at that moment. Rhodey hadn’t left the man’s side since this happened. The man had a bad habit of laying on the guilt real thick due to his never-ending feeling of responsibility. It was clear from his dark circles and sunken eyes that things were still the same as him. Rhodey would be good at keeping an eye on him.

Meanwhile, Bucky was practically guarding the hospital bed with a gaze that never wavered. His arms were crossed, metal over the skin so that no one thought to even try and hurt the patient on the bed. It seemed the brother-sister relationship was still going strong. Just behind him was Steve, hand resting on his old pal’s shoulder in an attempt to keep him relatively calm. Making nurses and doctors nervous wouldn’t help anything, would it? But Buck swore it was for intimidation purposes, anything could help.

A little further down, in the waiting room on this floor, Sam could make out where Peter and Scott were picking out which comics to read to Y/N when it was their turn to visit in the almost neverending cycle. They seemed to be developing a strong relationship. Later, he did not doubt that Hope, Wanda, Vision, T’Challa, and Shuri would be trading shifts with them. The only two that never left were currently at Y/N’s side.

“Seen a million movies, all selling true love,” Tony muttered, leaning back and crossing his arms. His gaze was fixated on how Natasha touched Y/N as if she was the most fragile thing in the world.

Rhodey raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“Fantasies Nat’s not sure she’s worthy of,” Steve elaborated, understanding where Tony was going with that comment.

“Well, caution to the wind,” Sam said, glancing at the woman.

Bucky nodded, actually agreeing with him. “Her heart’s been on display. Still, the end result…”

“It’s not gone her way,” Steve finished, hoping Natasha wasn’t completely upset with them talking about this.

“We can hear you.” Clint’s voice shut them all up and Natasha sent him an appreciative smile. He knew this wasn’t easy for her.

Scrunching her nose, she blinked away a fresh set of tears as she eyed the newest bandages. The last ones she had seen still had blood-soaked through them. Seeing Y/N in that state left her trembling, sobbing because she didn’t know what to do or how it happened. Y/N always seemed to be the bright, shining face with the bubbly laugh, smile, and corny joke that they all needed to hear. Stroking the back of her hand with her thumb, Natasha took a slow breath. Bruce said it’d be best to keep talking to Y/N. “Hearing familiar voices would help with the healing process.” At least that’s what he had said a week ago, and maybe there was a small part of her mind that for once doubted Dr. Banner.

Shifting in her seat, she tucked her knee under her chin. Talk. Just talk. “So when I would date some guy and they were a deadbeat or jerk, I wasn’t so crushed when it all didn’t work. I guess it’s because I always knew you were there. Friend or more, you were always there, Y/N. I need you here. Please?”

Beep… Beep…

Beep…

That infuriating beeping seemed louder today. It took a second for everything to piece together the memories, everything you heard. However, it wasn’t the biggest priority when you opened your eyes. Not that it wasn’t a priority, but…you opened your eyes. Blinking slowly, warily, you shifted in the uncomfortable hospital bed and the sound of your heartbeat picking up on the monitor woke the person asleep at the foot of your bed.

Sam shifted, shaking his head to hopefully wake himself up a bit more. Until he saw what had woken him. Immediately he sat up, grinning from ear to ear. “You’re awake! Y/N/N, you had us worried sick, I swear to —“ You opened your mouth to talk, but it came out rough and painful. Immediately you grimaced, rubbing your throat and he understood. “Need some water?” You nodded and he stood to go to the pitcher of water and the empty glass that was near the front door.

Once offered, you accepted it eagerly and slowly drank the cool contents. “Where is everyone?”

“Well, Clint and Nat were forced to go to the cafeteria to get some food. The others left a little over an hour ago. They said something about bringing some stuff from your room so that it might feel a bit more like home when you woke up.” Grinning, he laughed as he said, “Of course, then you had to go and mess with their plan.”

You cringed. “Sorry,” you said, voice still rough like sandpaper. “I didn’t —“

“Don’t apologize, Y/N.” He frowned and took a seat in the chair. “Seriously, everyone is going to be thrilled to see you happy. You had the actual King of Wakanda come visit you, you know that?”

“Shuri probably made him,” you joked, offering a weak smile. It wasn’t as bright. It didn’t reach your eyes.

Glancing at the door, Sam knew he didn’t have much time. Not if Natasha was going to get a moment alone with you before everyone else returned. He shifted out of the chair and onto the edge of the bed, clear concern etched in his features. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

Immediately you looked away, searching to find somewhere to stare that wasn’t Sam Wilson. You knew you had to talk about it and Sam probably was the best bet considering his experience helping with the VA. Still…Talking about it never seemed fair to everyone else. They all seemed to have it so much worse and your problems seemed so little.

“Come on, Y/N, we don’t want you back here. You have to talk to someone.”

Meeting his gaze, you noticed the unshed tears in his eyes and realized just how much you’d scared everyone. Even Sam. With that in mind, you spoke. You told him everything from seeing your abusive ex at the store, a man you had dated for five years before meeting the Avengers, and how that had triggered an anxiety attack in your car. How that led to the cutting back at the compound and, with everyone away on a mission, you just wanted to feel something. You told him about the boiling shower and filling the tub and how you passed out in the water with the gashes on your arms bleeding freely. You told him everything and, though you didn’t quite understand it, it felt as if a weight was lifted off your chest.

“Then I heard Tony’s voice. And everyone’s every time you guys visited.” He noticed how you shifted your gaze to your lap, tears threatening to fall. A few succeeded in their attempts, trickling past her waterline and slipping down her cheeks as Sam reached forward and squeezed your shin. “I’m sorry, Sam.”

“You’re awake.” The new voice caused you to look up, Sam following your lead. Standing in the doorway was none other than Natasha. Her natural abilities as a spy left her able to open the door without so much as a sound and now, standing there, it was clear she was taking note of everything and maybe had even been there for longer. Looking to Sam, her fist clenched at her side. “What did you do?”

“Nothing!” He held his hands up, eyes wide because no one liked being on the receiving end of the infamous Black Widow’s wrath. Especially not when it came to the one thing she was the most protective of. You. “Y/N/N, help me out here?”

“Tash, he didn’t do anything,” you promised, earning her steely gaze. After having been asleep for a while, it was unsettling to see that gaze piercing straight through you once again. “I’m okay.”

She watched you, carefully, studying to make sure that what you said was, in fact, true. Still, there was a look in her eyes that made you want nothing more than to hug her. Clearing her throat, she shifted slightly and reached for the door, finally explaining, “I’m going to go get Bruce. He’ll want to make sure you’re holding up okay.”

“Tash —“

“I’ll be back later.”

The promise sounded empty, but you knew better than to argue. Instead, she slipped out, passing Clint on the way.

“She’ll be back,” Sam assured as if reading your thoughts. The truth was, she might. She might not. You remembered everything she admitted and never, not once while you were awake, was she that open. She might regret opening up to you in such a way, maybe it was spies intellect?

All you wanted to do was curl up in a ball, go back to sleep and maybe not wake up this time around. However, you didn’t get the chance to act on those thoughts. You couldn’t even dwell as Clint started his conversation with you. He and Sam were a little protective over Natasha and you. While it took some time to get used to, moments like this made you feel guilty, unsure that you deserved such friends.

“I — Can I — I just…” Whatever you wanted to say, you couldn’t form the sentence. Everything was overwhelming. Your head felt clammy, eyes heavy, ears pounding. Biting your lip, you looked at the two men, wanting them to understand.

They did. They said their goodbyes, saying they’d be waiting in the cafeteria to hear what Bruce said after he checked on you. For now, once the door closed yet again, you had a moment to yourself save the days, maybe even weeks that you spent secluded in your mind listening to the echoes of everyone around you. Tears threatened to fall as you took a shaky breath. It felt like an anchor was sitting on your chest, tugging and pulling down, down until you felt like you were drowning.

Curling up on the bed, you rolled onto your side, careful with the needles protruding from your skin. The last thing you needed was to lose more blood. Staring at the IV, watching the bag of liquid dangling less than a foot away, you didn’t know what to do. You didn’t know if there was anything to say. Instead, your mind drifted to why you were here.

Seeing your ex.

“When you once, unafraid, wore your heart on your sleeve,” you murmured, voice quivering as tears slipped down your cheek. “And the ones that you loved chose to just turn and leave…” Your fingers twisted the corner of your pillow, pulling at a loose piece of string and forcing it to unravel. “Every day it gets harder to somehow believe you will survive.” Sniffling, your bleary vision made you only want to cry harder. “So you strive to keep up your guard ‘cause it’s safer..to hold every card.”

What you weren’t aware of was the spy sitting just outside. Her back was pressed against the wall, ear tilted towards the door. No one could tell her to move. No one had the guts. Instead, everyone watched her from down the hall, taking turns to make sure she wouldn’t say or do anything she would regret. Natasha, though good at putting up an act, wasn’t so good at maintaining that during these sorts of moments. She was frightened, terrified of losing you if she left again. It was why she sent Rhodey to get Bruce. Blinking away tears, she stared at the wall opposite of where she sat and whispered, “It’s safer to hold every card.” She couldn’t bring herself to move, listening to everything you dared to say.

“I feel out of control.”

A weak smile ghosted her lips. “I feel safe on the ground.”

“I go building up walls.”

“Yet you wish to be found.” She didn’t understand it. You were with the Avengers, surrounded by people who understood what it was like to be in pain, to be haunted by your past. Even knowing that you refused to let anyone know about the burdens you carried. Only now did they see that your life hadn’t been nearly as perfect as they had all assumed. Looking at the man sitting next to her, Natasha allowed Clint to take her hand and offer a reassuring squeeze. “She’s a true contradiction to which I am bound.”

He smiled, kissing her forehead as he traced the back of her hand with his thumb. They would be okay. It would take time, but they would be okay. The two were safer with each other and everyone knew that. Even Y/N.

A few hours passed and still, Natasha couldn’t bring herself to visit you. By now Bruce had come and gone, saying he’d release you in a couple of days. With that in mind, everyone did their best to stay happy when in your presence. Peter and Scott had brought in the puzzle they’d been working on, having it encased in a box so that it never had to be taken apart. It was some cheesy version of the Avengers looking like cartoons and the sight made you laugh. T’Challa and Shuri came in, T’Challa filled with wisdom and kind words and Shrui voicing her own jokes and opinions. Happy brought you fries and a chocolate milkshake, knowing you hated the food here. Both of you sat and talked and it felt easy, almost normal. He couldn’t stay long, having to take Peter to see Aunt May. Tony was next, with Rhodey by his side, and he was showing me photos of Harley winning his most recent competition. Both of you had always gone and supported him, but you being in the hospital forced you to miss it. There was one photo that brought a teary-eyed smile to your lips. Tony and Harley were standing on the edges and in the center were a dotted outline that was plugged in with one of that editing software. Written in the outline was, “Y/F/N Y/L/N” The boys were pointing at the empty space and grinning as if it were the most genius idea they had come up with. It made your heartache, wishing you could have supported him. Before too long the kid would be going off to college.

Steve and Bucky came in an hour later. A part of you had been scared, not wanting a lecture from Steve about how you could have said that you had stuff you were working through, triggers they needed to avoid when around you. It seemed he was holding himself back and you knew that a certain soldier had gotten him to shut up. Bucky, someone who rarely ever talked yet always looked out for you, presented you with a gift. It was a small journal similar to the ones he constantly wrote in. A little note was inside, scribbled in his handwriting. It’ll take time, but if a 101-year-old man can do it, I know you can. You giggled and hugged his side before he walked you through a breathing exercise that would hopefully aid in your next panic attack. It was something he’d learned in therapy and assured you that it worked.

“Thanks, you guys.”

“We’re here if you need us, Y/N.” You nodded, knowing Steve was right. It still sucked, either way, feeling like they were all watching you like hawks now. It’s just a concern.

After they left, it was another hour before Natasha finally made her appearance. It was probably why Clint and Sam hadn’t stopped by yet. They’d been coercing her into visiting. Finally meeting her gaze, you felt frozen in place. She was leaning against the door, arms crossed as if to form her sort of shield. She couldn’t exactly borrow Steve’s in moments like this, could she?

“H-Hey,” you try, your voice sounding weak. Clearing your throat, you shifted in your spot and asked, “How are you?”

“I think I’m supposed to be asking you that.”

The air seemed calmer as she stepped inside. She was keeping her distance and, while part of you wanted to ask why you weren’t entirely sure you wanted to know the reason considering the options. Tugging your bottom lip between your teeth, you knew you had to talk to her. Natasha was always one to hold secrets and she never liked prying to know yours. That was something she wanted you to trust her with. She wanted you to confide in her on your own time. “Tash, can we…can we talk?”

She took a seat on the chair next to the hospital bed, leaning forward and showing you had her full attention. Strands of hair fell out of her braid, falling in front of her eyes and a part of you wanted to move them out of the way. Your hand ached for that familiarity but now wasn’t the time. “You had us all scared for a bit.”

“I know.”

There was silence. Both of you weren’t sure what to say, but it seemed Natasha was still good with her thoughts and words. “Why didn’t you tell us sooner?”

“That I was struggling?” She nodded. Taking a slow breath, you stared intently at the sheets you were wrapped up in. Picking at them, you tried to find the right way to explain all this. Everyone seemed to be functioning, or at least trying to, so how could you be the one person who wasn’t? Especially when you knew that your trauma wasn’t as bad as theirs? “I…I look at the people who’ve worked it all out and I wonder why I just want out. Sometimes I wanna just stand up and shout, ‘Just commit and deal with it!’” Looking at her, you tucked your hair behind your ears and let tears freely slip down your cheeks. “Before my life flies by…I can’t let my life fly by…”

Natasha moved, wanting nothing more than to be closer to you. She took a seat on the edge of the bed and pulled you into her arms, holding you tightly as you broke down in tears. “Y/N…Sweetie…” She traced your back, fingers dancing lightly as you finally let it all out. You had explained to Sam the details, but the way you had spoken, it all felt so technical. You had come to develop a knack for speaking about your history as if it were someone else’s, but here? Now? Natasha had a way of slipping through the cracks in your walls, getting past that guard and understanding you. She murmured sweet nothings in Russian, letting her comforting voice wash over you. When it seemed you had calmed down enough, she brushed your hair out of your eyes, her fingers lingering. Her voice was calm as she asked, “But is it safer?”

Sniffling, you shrugged again, looking away from her. “Maybe, yeah, maybe it’s safer.”

She shook her head, tilting your face to look at her. It seemed her gaze searched your own before she rests her forehead against yours. Your noses brushed together as she delicately brushed your tears away with her thumbs. “Y/N, please, let us in…Try to let us help?”

You noticed the look in her eyes. Dark circles had crept underneath, making her look less like that badass spy and assassin you had crushed on and more-so like the Natasha that you had fallen for. She looked heartbroken, crushed, and afraid. All you wanted was to be okay, to be with her and know that everything was going to be okay. With that in mind, you allowed yourself the smallest nod, not trusting your voice. That is until you saw the hope glimmer in her eyes. That was all you wanted — for Natasha to be hopeful and happy. So with a small sniffle, you tried to give her your best smile and assured her, “I’ll try.”

Natasha relaxed, releasing a breath neither of you realized she had been holding. A single tear slipped down her cheek and you moved to brush it away. You didn’t want there to be any more tears. Instead, she leaned forward and pulled you into a small kiss. Waves of courage and reassurance wrapping around you two as you realized that this was something that needed to be done with help. It was safer that way, but not only that — it was better.

[theclosetpoet7]

Story Previews

Hello, it’s been so long since I’ve posted any stories online. I want to thank everyone who has been sending me messages and reviews wishing me well and encouraging me to continue my fics and to keep pursuing my dreams. You guys are the best! I am so sorry that I haven’t been able to give a clear timeline as to when I will be active again. It is highly likely that I won’t be officially active but may come back on a temporary basis every now and then. I am however participating in the sasusakufanzine and am very honored to be able to do so because guys these artists, writers and the whole team are seriously talented people. I miss my tumblr friends and I miss writing. I may post more detailed explanations as to why I’m inactive but it’s just life you know? I think I owe it to my readers to explain myself. For now, I present to you some previews for my ongoing stories, I hope you guys enjoy them! 

Across the Blue Fields

He had woken up to an unconscious Naruto.

He had expected to be dead by now.

He should be.

But he isn't.

It takes him a moment before he is able to push himself off his defenseless position. He notices that his left arm is hanging off his shoulder. It's bleeding profusely. There are several torn ligaments, and tendons that somehow keep it attached. He doesn't understand why he is still able to move at this point. 

He should be dead.

He shouldn't have this much chakra left.

He should be dead.

His lungs shouldn’t be breathing.

He should be dead.

Why Kami? . . .

He wants to die.

Something snaps him out of his dazed condition because he senses someone coming and knows exactly who it is, knows who they are. Sakura has broken the genjutsu. So he does the first thing he could think of, he binds his seal to Naruto's and pushes some of his chakra into him, somehow figuring out how to break the Tsukiyomi seal.

It takes almost all of his life force to accomplish the task. But he is miraculously able to do it, and with minutes to spare. 

And because he is still depending on his adrenaline rush, he runs.

Because he wants to die alone.

He wants to die.

And.

He should be dead.

.

.

. Karin finds him a few hours later.

*

She laughs to herself when she spots his usual chicken butt hair. It was funny how he obviously stood out in a crowd. The mask was completely useless. 

"She's quite beautiful isn't she?"

It takes Sakura aback when Karin suddenly strikes up a conversation with her. Emerald orbs fall on Nakano Aya's midnight blue locks, swaying gracefully as she pads to Sasuke's side and takes his hand in hers, playfully pulling him near the fire to dance. 

She tries to ignore the twitching of her heart at the sight and tentatively clears her throat.

"Yes she is."

Uzumaki Karin turns to regard the petite yet strong kunoichi beside her. It was amazing how completely attuned she was to the emotions of this ex- teammate of Uchiha Sasuke's. And it didn't help that the pinkettte obviously wore her heart on her sleeve.

She distinctly remembers their first meeting. The soft glow of the Sannin's chakra as she shed tears while healing a lowly rogue ninja such as her and this girl’s heart screaming when Sasuke almost took her life. 

At that very moment, Karin knew that Sasuke obviously held a special place in her heart. 

So, as she watches Haruno Sakura watch Sasuke and Aya, her heart bleeds for her own but as well as her friend's.

"I'm in love with Sasuke-kun you know."

Sakura stiffens when Karin's words reach her ears.

"Oh."

"I love him. So much. Too much."

Sakura runs a hand over her arms to warm her up as a cool breeze passes through them, making her silence more deafening.

"To the point that I don't really care if he ends up with me or someone else."

"You're selfless Karin."

The chakra detector shrugs her shoulders.

"Well, I'm not selfless, not completely. Don't get me wrong." 

She adjusts her glasses over her eyes and turns completely red.

"I still want him. Like, I want to be by his side. Heck, I'd marry him right here, right now if I could."

Sakura blushes at the redhead's forwardness.

She recalls a time when she was like this. When she was confident in how much she loved Sasuke.

But now.

She doesn't really know.

She finally turns to look at Karin's face. And if there was such a thing as eye opening and compelling as seeing her face on someone else's, then Sakura would wanna see it.

Because the lines in her friend's brows, and the way she bit her lip and allowed a look of sadness to come across her features is an expression the pinkette is all too familiar with. 

Uzumaki Karin's heart was breaking.

And then a tear unabashedly streams down her cheek.

"But, he looks happy right now."

Her lips begin to quiver.

"He actually looks happy by Nakano Aya's side." 

She wipes the tear from her cheek and pinches the bridge of her nose.

"And I'm happy. I'm fucking happy to see his chakra swell like this. Even if it's not because of me. Even if he was never this carefree and contented when I was travelling with him. "

Sakura begins to understand why Karin was telling her this.

And it is surprising how she was able to find comfort in the most unlikely of people.

"So I've decided that I'll leave tomorrow. I can't take this. I can't possibly compete with her."

"I don't think that's true Karin, of course you can, of course you..."

Karin finally faces her full on.

"Can't you see it Sakura? She is pure, she is new, she is one thing and then everything he could possibly want and need because she isn't tied to anything remotely connected to his past."

Her emerald eyes shone with shock and ultimate hurt that it takes Karin a moment to gather the last bit of courage she has to comfort this girl while at the same time comfort herself.

"Sasuke-kun is finally happy."

Sakura glances at the pair again and regretfully notes that indeed, though Sasuke doesn't have a big smile on, there was a calmness to his expression. He really was happy.

"You're right. But, is there a reason why you are telling me this ?"

Karin puts a hand to her shoulder.

"Because you’re still in love with him. And I want you to know that I understand."

*

Revolution

“Stay with me.”

He wants to erase what he had just said as soon as the words leave his mouth. She is still catching her breath, too drowsy with their recent activity. But he could tell, by the way her breath hitched and the way her shoulders stiffened that she had heard him.

Loud and clear.

He swallows his own saliva as he waits for her acknowledgement and clicks his tongue at the silence that follows.

Fuck.

He shouldn’t have said anything.  

But at the same time, he is curious.

What if…

What if she says yes? . . . “No.”

And that is when he wishes that he could take it all back… the words… his feelings. He almost wants to push her away when...

“Sakura, join me.”

...He utters his second regret.

“Sasuke-kun.”

“Be by my side.”

Then his third…

“Sasuke-kun.”

“Marry me.”

And his fourth

“Sasuke-kun!”

Her arms are around him, pulling him closer as she molds their bodies into one being. He clutches her head to his.

“Stop…onegai?”

He doesn’t allow her to finish, for he pushes her to the bed again and hovers over her. Her eyes sparkled with tears again.

It irks him a bit that she's the one crying when she is doing the rejecting.

Sasuke glares as he looks into her irises.

“Don’t...”

His hand goes to her cheek as she lets her tears fall.

He lowers himself to catch her lips, a habit he seemed to be forming whenever she was around. He pulls away before she could respond.

“You once told me that you’d do anything for me.”

Emerald green eyes widened.

Her lips trembled.

“That's not fair.”

“Sakura”

“...”

“I’m asking you to come with me this time.”

She directs her attention to the ceiling and lets out a sigh. Then, a bitter laugh.

It is a sound he immediately loathes with his entire being.

“There was a time when hearing all this would’ve made me the happiest woman in the world. But…things are different now Sasuke-kun.”

“Different?”

He brushes it off.

“We’re enemies.”

The fact pierces through him, of course he knew that…

But.

“Didn’t you say that you love me?”

He gives her some space. Lifting himself up but still dominating her.

“I do.”

He pauses to look at her again.

“I do love you…so much that I can’t possibly imagine what it would be like to be in a world without you in it.”

He smirks and lowers down to catch her lips when she puts a hand over his mouth.

“But I love Konoha more…”

*

Akai Ito

She gathers him in her arms and takes him to her home without any hesitation.

She gets a dropper and feeds him some milk like he's her baby.

She gives him a warm bath and snuggles him in thick blankets to fight the cold weather.

Sakura takes care of him.

She takes care of him the same way she always has. And she saves his life again, by slowly nursing him back to health. 

It is a comforting feeling, to be able to find her in this world, to know that she's the same loving and caring person he has always known. 

So he allows her to do what she does best.

Saving him.

One day he wakes up with renewed strength and enthusiasm because it is the first time in days that he's felt like running around.

And.

He smells ramen.

He pads softly into her living room.

Her apartment is small but enough for one person.

Sakura is seated on the tatami mat, her chin on her hand as she rests her elbow on the low table, absentmindedly scanning the channels until she settles on the news.

She still hasn't noticed his presence. So he sneaks under the table in a commando crawl, or "a crawl" his tiny form is capable of doing. Then he settles himself on top of her crossed legs until he's standing and placing his front paws on the table, eyeing the cup of ramen with all the devotion he has.

The pinkette lets out a startled yelp and holds him to her.

"Pug-kun, are you hungry?" 

He wags his tail and reaches out for the noodles once more.

"Eh, but that's my dinner, hold on, I'll get you some milk."

*

Bleeding Heart Series: That Canopy Underneath the Trees

"Since when?"

He is standing there, with his tall frame, arms on either side of her desk. 

"Since when what?" she raises an eyebrow.

"Since when did you start having feelings for me?" . . . Since when Sasuke-kun?

Since the beginning.

She sits amongst a group of Uchiha children, her cherry strands standing out in the crowd of ebony black. Haruno Sakura sits in class, awestruck and anxious about the lesson. It was an extracurricular course; one her mother had encouraged her to attend seeing as how her skills in house-making were incredibly lacking compared to her civilian counterparts. 

It wasn't her fault per se. Kunoichi were trained to master in most of the arts. Just yesterday, she had received second honors for the best ikebana arrangement. However, most of the skills taught to her didn't necessarily cater to being the perfect housewife. And because it was one of the deals she made with her parents when she decided to stray from the merchant life, Sakura didn't really have a choice in the matter. 

Mebuki Haruno still wanted her daughter to grow into the ideal woman. One who can stitch up her husband's clothes and could cook up a good hot pot on a rainy day.

Which is why she is sitting here.

In this class.

A class that was headed by no less than Uchiha Mikoto. 

It was a wonder that she was able to join in. She chalks it up to her mother's persistence. Granted that it was the only class on sewing that was available.

"Just one class. Or two... Just the basics."

She looks down at the material presented to her. And she glances around and sighs when the girls get to work without much difficulty.

Apparently, lesson one for sewing in the Uchiha clan meant attaching the family's signature emblem onto the back of a shirt.

She is grateful to be positioned at the back of the room, nearest to the sliding doors. It meant that no one will be able to see her botch this project and that she will be able to run as soon as the lesson was over.

The young pinkette cuts through the outline and pauses. Wait, was it top or bottom? She shrugs and continues on. It was actually challenging to be able to make it look legit. And because she was sewing the crest onto a shirt on her first try, she considers her finished product not half bad. 

"It's upside down."

The voice catches her off guard. 

Sakura turns to her right and sees one of her academy classmates peaking from the door.

"It's facing up though."

The young boy clicks his tongue and pouts.

"I mean the top part is red not the bottom."

She gasps. 

Looking back, her first meeting with Uchiha Sasuke wasn't all that special. But seeing his childish grin when his mother sweat drops at her unfortunate mistake made her feel like it was okay to not be so perfect considering how he had started talking to her because of her failed attempt.

*

“If you give me a sign."

"I promise, you'll have me."

Uchiha Mikoto's eyes fall on the ring on Haruno Sakura's finger and she knows what it is.

She knows all too well what it means.

'Finally Sasuke-chan.'

She feels her husband stiffen beside her and she tenderly puts a hand over his to calm him down. Then, she looks up and gives him one of the happiest smiles she has ever  shown him. Uchiha Fugaku's own black orbs flicker with understanding at what is about to happen. And he puts a hand to his forehead and closes his eyes. A smirk coming on to his aging face as he shakes his head.

"It's gonna take a lot of negotiating to get ourselves out of this one Tsuma."

The matriarch slips her hand into his and interlaces their fingers.

"I know."

She leans her head on his shoulder and lets out a low giggle.

"That boy, is quite a handful." he murmurs.

Mikoto's hand tightens around his, then she squeezes his hand to give him reassurance.

"Our son is in love. And we're going to fight. We're not going to give up. Right?"

Fugaku looks down at his lovely wife, who has only grown more beautiful over the years. Then, he smiles genuinely.

"Of course not."

The room is silent as all eyes turn to look at the pinkette who had made quite an entrance, one of the door's hinges is broken, while the other one was thrown to the floor. Her heels click on the broken wood, her posture screamed confidence, her left hand is raised above her head as she shows Sasuke her answer. And her eyes, her eyes focus only on him.

Uchiha Sasuke lets out a relieved breath and inwardly pumps up a fist. Then, he faces his supposed bride-to-be and takes her hands into his and quietly tells her.

"Gomen, Yuki. "

Then he lets her go. The young heiress is left stunned as she watches her fiance's body turn away from her. And she breaks, she feels her heart break. And she watches. The raven haired nin steps down from the altar to make his way to his best friend. 

Sasuke goes to Haruno Sakura. Time stood still as they gazed at each others' eyes. 

Her arm is still raised.

It was like she was completely frozen in place.

She meets his eyes.

Just staring into Uchiha Sasuke.

He seemed so far, even when they are only a few feet apart at this point.

And when his steps finally close their distance.

When he is finally close enough to reach.

The young kunoichi lowers her arm and extends it to take his pale hand. Then, she holds it firmly and tilts her head to the side.

"Runaway with me?"

Sasuke just nods. . . . They run.

[canaryatlaw]

OKAY. It’s Sunday night, I’m on the plane back to Chicago from Clexacon in Las Vegas. What a weekend man. I had such an amazing time with friends I already knew and ones I just met for the first time. However, much of how the con was run was an absolute shit show. I must’ve said a hundred times that being that they’d done this for like 3 years already, they should know better than to do the stupid kind of shit they were doing, and yet there we were. So that led to some crappy situations, but I still had a great time do to the awesome people around me. I can’t say I’d go again though, because it was just a very poorly run event and I’m (obviously) not afraid to call them out on it in public, because it’s clearly needed when they’re prioritizing getting every last dollar out of everyone rather than the safety/wellbeing of the guests and the experience of the congoers (and the sanity of their volunteers, for that matter. But I should start from the beginning.

I left off Thursday night right before trying to fall asleep. I say trying because sadly it did not come easy, I think I fell asleep finally some time around 4, which put me at like 3-4 hours of sleep for the night, which made me feel a lot more exhausted through all of the very long day I had. I think I woke up at 7:30 am on Friday, that sounds right. Threw the last of things together and got an Uber, picked up Jess and was on our way to the airport. Got through everything okay, for one reason or another they let us go through just the metal detector instead of the full scan machine thing which was nice because the whole machine is a giant pain. We got to our gate and waited, and got somewhat delayed but eventually got in the air. Landed about 1 pm Las Vegas time, so 3 pm for us, so it already felt like it’s been forever and we wanted to get there as soon as we could. We ended up taking a taxi to the place instead of dealing with their airport’s Uber procedures, whatever those were. It was a pretty short drive, so we got there and walked into the casino part, and proceeded to get very lost until we saw someone that looked like they would be going (take that to mean whatever you’d like) and begged them to help us which they readily did thankfully lol.

So with some help we got to the actual part the con was taking place at, and found our friends who were in line for the Avalance panel that was at 3 pm. They were fairly close to the front for the regular admissions at least, so we got fairly good seats. I was going to live tweet but since getting off the plane my signal had been very poor (apparently Verizon doesn’t get good reception in Nevada) and not only did the place not have WiFi, but some people were saying they actively dampened the cell phone signal to “keep people focused on gambling” or something like that which is wild, really, all of this leading to the conclusion that my battery was gonna die a lot quicker than normal and I couldn’t afford to live tweet. Clexacon is also really good about putting their whole panel’s online though (one thing to their credit at least) so I didn’t feel too bad about it. The panel was great though, Jes and Caity together are always fucking hilarious and they were honestly so bad at paying attention and staying on topic it was really funny. They definitely like, hinted heavily at several things upcoming in the rest of the season, I won’t get into it because I know some people don’t like spoilers so I’ll leave it there and say if you want to know more go watch the panel. It was really great though, and as was suspected, Katrina Law crashed it and it was hilarious.

After the panel we rushed over to Jes’ table as soon as we could, which took a minute because instead of the normal con set up where each celebrity has their own table, they were switching off tables in shifts more or less (a dumb mistake which led to issues when they needed the table for the next guest but still had a mile long line, one of many things they totally should’ve known better than to do). So we had to wait a minute and then get in line and wait for her to head over, which wasn’t too long. Jess got a photo signed because she had a nice new one and it let us talk to her lol. She was doing selfies but that wasn’t quite established yet, since the con had put out a whole statement saying there would be no selfies (and then the guests were like yeah right we’re gonna do them anyway, bless). So we talked to her for a few minutes about some spoilery stuff we had gotten told about and then moved on since she had quite a line already.

After that we walked around the merch hall for a few minutes before heading over to the photo ops, and oh what a chaotic mess that was! After a while we managed to get in the right place with the right people and then had to wait a while longer lol. But for that night we had a duo op with Caity and Jes with Season, Jayne, Jess and I, with a pose inspired by the breakfast club (I’ll post my crappy quality picture of the print out since they don’t have the digital downloads yet and don’t know when they will after this) which involved me lying on the floor lol so that was amusing, got to say hi to Jes and told Caity I’d see her tomorrow.

Once we were done with that we waited for a bit for other people that had different ops since they were all clumped together (singles for any of the three including Katrina, duos with any of them, or trios with all three) and then once we were all done we left to go to the Taco Bell, the infamous Vegas Taco Bell that you can get married in and was famously featured in Jess’ social media au that I didn’t read 😂 but it had become quite a big deal, so we walked for about 15 minutes till we got there. They were blasting music inside at like a way too loud volume, so after ordering and getting our food we ended up sitting at their little outside portion, where we could still hear the music but it wasn’t quite so bad, lol. So that was certainly an experience.

When we walked back to the con place we met up with some friends who had brought along some games and such for a game night, and we ended up playing games with them for several hours, which was very fun. We played one called The Resistance which is kind of like Mafia and whenever we play any game like that I will ALWAYS end up being the “spy” as it was in this case, and it happened both rounds we played 😂 it’s just more fun that way. We played a few different fun ones. It was getting late though and I was like high key tired, and since we weren’t actually staying at the hotel there because it was very expensive (though the rooms were very nice) so after a while Jess, Melissa, and I ubered back to the holiday inn where Melissa had gotten a room and was letting us crash with her lol. Our Uber that night was a red hummer, so that was wild. I was like getting deliriously tired at that point but I knew if I didn’t wash my hair it would look like shit in photo ops the next day so I forced myself to wash it quickly and then go to bed right afterwards.

I set my alarm for 8 or 8:30, I’m not sure which, but I got up and got ready for the day, grabbing a quick breakfast at the hotel before heading over to the con. The Nyssara panel was first thing that day but since we knew it was gonna be online anyway we decided to skip it in favor of Jes’ line on a hope that most people would be at the panel instead (there were actually a good number of people there, but I’m sure there would’ve been a lot more without the panel). So we waited a bit for her to show up and she started signing, then we had to wait a few minutes while she went and crashed the Nyssara panel of course in payback for Katrina crashing the Avalance one the day before, which we fully expected to occur lol. Then she came back and we got to her pretty quickly. I had her sign the op of her and Caity that we got the night before.

Once that was done we headed to the photo ops since they were shortly afterwards, also a shit show but no surprise at that point. I just had a Jes op, and I decided since I was wearing my Captain Marvel tank top I got from hot topic a few weeks ago I decided we should do the pose with our arms extended since that was their kinda thing, and it came out really well, I was happy with it. Once everyone was done with photo ops, which took a while longer, we went to the autograph/merch hall and decided to hit up Caity’s line while we could, I had her sign her side of the duo op from the night before and got some selfies, it’s always great to talk to her, Sara’s always gonna be my favorite character and a big part of why I love the fandom as much as I do so I always love getting to interact with Caity, and she seems like she remembers me pretty consistently at this point so that’s always nice.

Once we all got through Caity’s line Jes’ was still really long so we decided to go to the Black Lightning/ThunderGrace panel with Nafessa and Chantal, who were both super awesome and the panel was great. They were so much fun to get to talk to and it was good to hear the writers were playing the long game with their relationship since at the beginning of season 2 it looked like that might not be the case. Towards the end of the panel we were informed that Jes’ line had been capped, which was very weird because she was supposed to be signing till 5 and it was only like 3:45 at that point which is WAY too early to cap a line. So after the panel we headed straight over there to figure out what was going on. One of the other stupid things the con was doing was overpromising things to their VIPs and basically just letting them through over the regular admissions at a rate that was impractical and frankly just didn’t make sense. So there was a VIP line that was very long and looked like it might be being added to, and a shorter regular admission line. We basically decided to be stubborn though and see if we could play it out on the hope that if they tried to end it before we got there Jes would see us and want to talk to us basically, which I’m not sure how successful we would’ve been and did not at all know if it would work or not. But basically we planted ourselves at the end of the regular admission line on the premise that we were talking to our friend who had managed to get added to the line, and then as things evolved basically more people started getting in behind us which the volunteers were not happy about (I want to make it clear though, I’m not at all blaming the volunteers for the shittier parts of this weekend, that blame lies solely with the con and the decisions they made, including not training their volunteers for all the situations they should’ve been trained on, but the volunteers were just doing their job and I would never fault them for that) which was understandable but we were gonna try.

We eventually more or less got added to the line but there was zero guarantee we were actually going to get to see her.

At some point around 5 Jes wanted to stay through the line so she had to get moved to a different table since they were still doing their shitty system with the tables, and then had to lead the whole line over behind her, which we think they basically just put the entire VIP line in front of the regular admission people, even those who had arrived clearly after us, so we ended up waiting quite a while there with seeming little to no movement. After we had been waiting a little while they Black Lightning girls had come to the tables nearby and Nafessa didn’t have a line, so I ducked out quickly (with plenty of friends to save my spot ofc) to her table because I’ve wanted to meet her for a while now but never had the chance, and thankfully she was doing selfies so I got to talk to her for a bit and then take some selfies with her, she was really really great and I basically cried talking to her about how much I love the show and the character of Anissa so much and just how iconic it was to see the image of her standing there in her superhero outfits and having the bullets just fucking bouncing off of her after so many LGBT female characters were killed off often for very shitty reasons, I’m like tearing up just thinking about it now lol so I was really glad I got to meet her.

Once I finished there I ducked back into Jes’ line, which had finally seemed to move some so we were a little closer, but still had to wait a bit longer. Jes was a total champ because she absolutely did not have to stay for everyone there, but she chose to do so despite being super tired and worn out herself, so she gets major credit here. We got to see her finally though after going through way too much shit to get there lol, I got my op from earlier that day signed, but had to forego a selfie because I was out of cash lol. Oh well. It was sad because the only con coming up she has scheduled is the love fanfest which is in Barcelona this summer (and in case you were wondering flights to Barcelona for those dates are sitting solidly around $800) and we’re ofc not planning on attending that so having to say goodbye without knowing when we’d see her next was kinda sad (and of course we’ll be bugging HVFF like crazy to fucking invite her to their cons, ugh) but I was still really glad we got to see her.

When we finally finished there god we were all so wiped and hungry since it was almost 7 pm at this point and we hadn’t really eaten since breakfast, so we ended up taking an Uber to the closest In-N-Out which was of course a must whenever we’re somewhere there is one (usually California but in this case Vegas). It wasn’t terribly crowded so we were able to get a table and food fairly quickly, god their strawberry shake was so fucking good and their burgers and fries were great too. We stayed there for a while and just talked and had a good time before deciding to walk back since we now had food in our stomachs, lol (we were originally going to walk there but my stomach was already like mmmMNOPE and walking for 20 minutes would’ve been high key bad). Once we got back to the con place we met up with the game friends again and played for the rest of the night. We started with a game called joking hazards which is like cards against humanity but based on cyanide and happiness comics which I read religiously for years and you basically had to build the funniest comic strip and my entries had everyone cackling basically the whole time even if I didn’t win the round, it was just all really hilarious and fun. We moved on to some other games which were fun, around 10 or so Jess had to head to the airport because she had been planning on going to Star Wars Celebration Sunday (plans which got thwarted by unexpected snow in Chicago) so she was flying out that night and arriving at like 6 am Sunday morning. We kept playing till like 1 or so at which point everyone was just really tired so Melissa and I headed back to our hotel. I washed my hair again quickly and got ready for bed. One thing we messed up on was forgetting to bring any makeup remover wipes or otherwise makeup remover, and there’s only so much you can get off in the shower, so when I get home tonight I need to like, douse my face in makeup remover and get off all the damn mascara that I couldn’t get off for three fucking days. We headed to bed though, Melissa’s flight was early Sunday morning so we said our goodbyes and went to bed.

I was set to wake up to my alarm at 10 to an empty hotel room which did in fact occur, but it took a little longer for me to actually get out of bed because I was very tired lol, I don’t think I actually fell back asleep but I rested my eyes a bit more until like 10:26 at which point I convinced myself to get out of bed. I got ready and officially checked out of the hotel room (which just involved telling the front desk the room number and that we were checked out) and headed over to the con place, messaging a few various friends I had made since arriving since my original friends were now gone, lol. I met up with them shortly afterwards in the merch hall where we wandered around for a bit and I did buy some stuff, mostly small art stuff and a few buttons, before we headed to the short film festival that was taking place from 12 to 2. I grabbed a sandwich quickly from the little cafe they had and headed in. The films ranged between comedies and dramas of different subjects, they were all really good and several made me cry, one had me like on the verge of sobs at the end lol so yeah they were very good I’d say. Once those were finished they had a little talk with some of the film creators and actors that were there which was fun.

Once that event was done I headed back to the merch hall with one of my friends to find a few things, and once we were satisfied there we ended up walking out across the street to the New York, New York casino which had a shake shack, where I got a burger and a root beer float which was very good. So we ate and talked and had a nice time. We walked back to the con area after, my friend went to a pitch session and I went back to the merch hall for a final round before finding another friend and sticking with them for a bit, one of the tables had been doing a raffle so we waited for the results of that which was entertaining, then talked to a few vendors we knew, and ended up going back to my friend’s hotel room for a little bit. My flight was supposed to leave at 7:25 so I was planning on leaving the con for the airport around 5, but I had gotten an email from southwest saying it had been delayed half an hour, so I ended up staying until around 5:30 before saying my final goodbyes and getting an Uber to the airport.

The Uber ride was quick, check in was very easy and I breezed through security, again only having to do the metal detector, so I made it to the gate shortly after 6 and then had plenty of time lol. So I just sat and listened to podcasts and went on my phone while having it plugged into one of the outlets they had under the seats for about an hour or so until I got up and grabbed some Burger King for dinner, then returning and eating that while we started the boarding process, the flight before us ended up getting in a little late so I think our ultimate take off time ended up being like 8:10 or so. We’re supposed to get in a bit before 2 am Chicago time, which should be fairly soon since my phone is currently reading 11:25 pm Vegas time, which would be 1:25 am Chicago time. Of course I packed super light since I was carrying my backpack around all day for two of the days I was there, so I just have the shorts I wore today which was great for the 80 degree Vegas weather, but being that it FUCKING SNOWED in Chicago today I’m guessing they’re gonna be a bit less than adequate. Since I flew Southwest we’re getting into the airport that’s further from me, but the roads will at least be clear and you can just take the expressway up so it doesn’t take too much longer than the one that’s closer to me (which is always just a pain in the ass because it’s O’Hare but it’s where pretty much everyone flies out of except Southwest). So now I’m here, sitting on the plane and typing this. As things stand right now, Jess had gotten off of work tomorrow for Star Wars Celebration which she wasn’t sure she was gonna do on Monday but since today didn’t end up working out she’s gonna go, I was able to get a single day Monday ticket to go with her so we’re gonna get brunch at 10 and then head down to that con, lol, probably stay mostly in their merch hall and maybe meet up with some people, before going home to watch the Legends episode of course. And yeah, that should be fun. I’m running low on battery so I’m gonna stop typing for now, I’ll probably write a final few sentences once I’m home or almost home and about to go to sleep.

Okay, flight landed at 1:49 am, it’s now 3:08 am and I’m lying on my bed about to go to sleep. Goodnight peeps. Hope you had a good weekend too.

[yetanotherbuffyblog]

Yet another haunted house!

I finished Castlevania on Netflix! It’s...it’s okay. The first and last episodes are great, the middle two are mostly kind of boring. I’d be okay with slower pace if it weren’t for there only being four episodes.

Oh right we’re here to talk about Buffy. So let’s do that.

The frat house is haunted? Figures.

Buffy and Riley kill vampires and demons together, because that’s how monster-hunters do dates, I guess. And afterwards they go have sex. And it turns out that they’re pretty much always doing that these days, as they can’t really hang out with anyone without deciding that they’ve got to go back to Riley’s room to have sex. The Scoobies are a bit bothered, but they’re at least happy that the two of them seem to have resolved their relationship issues.

Things get horrible though, when they’re at a party at the frat house where Riley and his Initiative bros live, and not only do Riley and Buffy go and lock themselves in Riley’s room for sex, but things are getting...weird. Like, there’s one wall that when partygoers touch it, they seem to orgasm instantly. There’s a girl who feels like she went too far with kissing Xander in Spin the Bottle so she locks herself in a closet and decides to cut off all her hair. And also Willow sees a dead drowned person in the bath tub.

Then the house starts shaking.

Going to Giles (minus Buffy, who is still having sex with Riley), they do some research and find that the house was once a home for delinquents, and that the woman who ran the house would punish any of them harshly for showing any interest whatsoever in sex. Like, cutting off their hair for vanity, or “baptizing” them in the bathtub. And so they deduce that the spirits of the children who died in the house or something are haunting it? And they’re using Riley and Buffy’s sex as a sort of spirit battery? And when they run the battery down, the two of them die?

Or something.

So Giles, Tara and Willow run a spell to calm the angry spirits, Xander and Anya go in to rescue Buff and Riley, and...then that’s kind of the end of the episode?

It wasn’t really a highlight for me, to tell the truth.

Notes!

-So the beginning has a vampire and a demon working together, which Buffy thinks is odd and Giles calls really weird, because demons and vampires apparently hate each other? Giles says that most demons think of vampires as unclean and tainted by humanity. But I’ve never gotten that impression? They seem to work together a lot, considering. Spike mentions earlier this season that he used to work with Fyarl demons, enough that he knows their language. I’d believe there was a sort of prejudice between different types of demon, but not a full on ‘they refuse to work together.’

-The Scoobies conclude that Adam is making these monsters all work together, which just makes me wonder all the more what does he waaaaaaaaaant

-Xander says something like, “Are all the frat houses here haunted? Why do people keep coming to the parties? It’s not for the snacks.” And that’s good. Xander you’re great.

-Also he’s working in an ice cream truck at the beginning of the episode? It’s for a gag where he and Anya talk about their sex life only to see that there are children and parents right outside waiting to get ice cream, but is Xander constantly getting new jobs going to be his thing? Where is he even going in life? I’d kind of like if he had more of an arc next season.

-One thing I did like about Xander is that when that one girl he starts flirting with, Julie, goes off into a closet and starts crying, he immediately goes and tries to find her, and when he can’t seem to comfort her he goes back to the Spin the Bottle game and asks if any friends of hers are there to help out. It was surprisingly kind of Xander to go through all that effort. Not that he’s a terrible person, but he’s not usually that nice.

-Also he and Anya have a fight. It was amusing, but I again wonder what she’s doing this season.

-Spike shows up, bonds with Anya over missing their demon powers, and he gets dragged to the party. When things start getting really weird, he volunteers to help save Buffy, only to point out to himself that she’s tried to kill him and that he doesn’t care so he’ll leave. He’s entertaining, and great, I like Spike and all, but again I’m wondering if he has a role in the plot right now?

Still a good line though.

Spike: I know I'm not the first choice for heroics ... and Buffy's tried to kill me more than once. And, I don't fancy a single one of you at all. But... [pauses] Actually, all that sounds pretty convincing. [shakes his head and walks off] I wonder if Asian House is open.

-Alright why wasn’t this woman arrested for child abuse? I know that sometimes these things go undetected, but this old woman who ran this home is perfectly willing to discuss what went on in the house to random people who come asking. It wouldn’t be hard for the authorities to discover the truth.

-When the house is shaking and people start running out, Forrest asks one of his friends (Graham) to help him escort people to safety. And then when he seems to be possessed or something, he just drags him into the secret Initiative elevator. When there are still people trying to escape the house. Rescuing civilians is just sort of thrown out the window.

-Oh and Giles sings.

That’s what he was doing when they went to go get him. Xander keeps talking about it like it’s horrifying, and while it’s certainly weird, he’s actually a really good singer (which the female Scoobies agree with). It makes me think there should have been a musical episode of Merlin.

-How did the Initiative not realize their house was haunted? I get that they’re not as on-top-of-things as they like to think, and I get the impression that they’re hopelessly lost about some aspects of the supernatural world. But they don’t have anything like a Supernatural-style ghost detector thing? C’mon guys.

-This is, as you can probably tell, a non-Buffy-centric episode. I mean she plays a key role, but for most of it she’s off-screen having sex with Riley.

-Were the spirits haunting the place from dead people? Because if tons of children/young adults died in that house, you’d think the police would have locked up that lady. And people would have heard about it. But if they were just people who were alive, and moved out then...I don’t know what’s up with them.

-So many jokes in this episode could be summarized as

[plotbunnyshipper]

Fundamental Cracks - Parts 1 & 2

Note: So, this started by popping into my head after seeing the 5x20 trailer. I knew it wasn’t the way it was going to play out, but took those couple fast chapters and have been going with it. As I continued and incorporated partial things from that episode what would be sticking from cannon is that it starts, Team Oliver just having had their confrontation with Temporary-HELIX-Team-Felicity, everyone is in the zone of trust issues. Adrian is at, and set the EMP in, the Arrow Cave, with Felicity as the target, because with the results obviously she was. John and Lyla are due for some confrontation of ARGUS prisoners like he was treated.

The preview had implied Felicity’s chip got damaged, they were trapped with no communication, and a psycho was on the ready to torment. There was the brief clip of Oliver getting bounced down an elevator shaft, landing in an awkward position. Poached bits later from actually seeing the episode to help move it along until they’re out but after that it’s stream of thought. Doesn’t follow the continuity of the other shows (Flash) because I haven’t seen most of this latest season, and taking the excuse of AU.

Ao3 - http://archiveofourown.org/works/11325564/

Chapter 1 – Shock

After hellish hours, trapped, crippled, taunted by a madman you’d think being in a hospital would be a welcome change. Instead it is its own spiral of damnation. Tubes and tests, begging for information and after a quick useless triage check being ignored while they focus their resources on him.

When he fell…when Oliver fell he was motionless. Broken. Battered. It didn’t matter that Chase made his presence known, didn’t matter that he failed realize after all these years of course Oliver and John would have trained me at least in the basics of archery and guns, and didn’t matter that I eventually buried a bullet in his chest for his crimes.

He caused one man I loved to be killed by this man who I still love. Chase serenaded me with details on how it felt for him to watch that. Forced me to listen to him talk about how sweet it was to hear Oliver and I talk in our stressed hours of darkness about trust and the downfall of our relationship. Analyzing like a psychopathic couple’s therapist, summarizing our words about the lack of trust at the core of our relationship due to our own experiences that couldn’t let the love keep us together. He mocked us, the ‘Of course I love you, I’ll never stop, but this wasn’t working…’ and ‘I know, I know, and I’ll always love you, you’ll always be in my heart…’ A laugh as he prowled towards us, “You trust each other you’re your lives, but your broken little hearts are as fucked up as your heads.“ I tried to shield Oliver’s body from his view; he dragged me away by the hair, my hands clawing at that arm until he grabbed me by the throat and sent me crashing. When he sends a foot kicking out to see if Oliver would stir, that distraction…it was enough that he didn’t notice. Thank god for Oliver and John’s paranoia. I shot him. Not the best shot… but he wasn’t expecting it and I shot that son of a bitch in the back, where the core of his abdomen was a big enough target to hit something vital. He tried to take those last few steps towards Oliver’s body but fell and didn’t get up. I crawled myself back over, grabbing an arrow he had been playing with and stabbing it Norman Bates style into the exposed skin while he gave his final twitches. Only after I was between Oliver and him did I empty the gun into him, making sure he wouldn’t be getting up again.

I’m desperately listening to his breathing, whispering encouragements, only vaguely noticing my hand keeps landing over his heart. Feeling its beat, knowing as the rate changes that my panic is justified.

Oliver is still unconscious, barely taking struggling breaths, when there is a small explosion quickly followed by a figure climbing through the hole in the wall. Part of me recognizes it is a John Diggle sized, sounding, scented-despite-the-overwhelming-gamey-tang-of-blood-coating-us person, but that part of my rationale is buried by the panic of the rest.

I may go a little crazy as they rush to the rescue. I may scream at them when they try to assess us, prying me off and starting to move Oliver out of reach. I possibly rave as John picks him up and rushes Oliver to the hospital. I may even strike out at anyone who tries to help me while he is in sight.

Things go a bit…confusing. I blink and I can’t find Oliver as I look around, just the body of…the body of…that person.

Another blink and I have to feel his heartbeat right now. I need to know he’s still breathing.

Someone is touching my arm and it feels like I jump out of my skin. “Oliver?!” The word is croaked. Why is my voice ragged? It’s not Oliver, it’s some lady in white. “I need to find…need to help…”

“He’s in surgery.” A familiar voice says.

Surgery? Down here? I blink at him as my thoughts swirl in a lazy spin of confusion. “I know you.”

The unfamiliar woman says in an unconcerned voice, “It’s shock, and the medication, just enough to calm her down,” she says it near me, then at me, “calm you down, a bit.”

“Find him! He needs help!” I look around…We’re not in the tunnels?

“Ms. Smoak, you’re in shock, you are probably going to have a hard time focusing on my questions but we need to ask them.” I blink and look down at my hands, stained and dirty, dried blood flaking off around the joints. “Can you tell me if anything hurts?” Her hands are cold, pressing lightly against me, searching.

I shake my head.

“You can’t tell me, or nothing hurts?”

“Not hurt. Oliver’s- He-”

“Did you hit your head against anything?”

“He fell…It was dark…so far down, he wasn’t moving, even when Chase…Oliver needs help!”

“He’s getting help, he is in surgery.”

“So much blood…” Blood is important. Why is blood important? I have blood, he has blood, he needs blood…he has blood, he has blood! “You need to get his blood for him.” I stare at John, who for some reason just stands there. “Oliver’s blood, you can get…cabinets of blood…” the words slip away and I can’t remember how I was going to end that. John blinks, then takes off at a run.

}]}———}>

I am laughably fine. Other than my damaged bio-stimulant not working, which they will surgically remove so Curtis can retrieve the power cell that seems to still be functional, and bruises, lots of big ugly bruises, I can’t find anything really wrong. Ignoring their load of crap about shock, like my people don’t experience worse every night, you can take that ‘shock’ and…I’m fine, which is in extreme contrast to the extensive list detailing Oliver that our friends didn’t think I overheard them talking about, courtesy of a tablet Lyla brought me so I could check on the surgery and quit asking them. Not the tablet, the tricked out HELIX one which Curtis was stupid enough to let ARGUS confiscate instead of hiding it away after he deactivated the lasers, because he still doesn’t know better.  

I spend the night online. Ordering replacements and equipment to upgrade them, the overnight shipping to Curtis cost almost as much as the parts themselves, but I can afford it. I get a “Felicity, what the hell?” call as the sun rises, but he doesn’t protest when I give him a direct list of things to do.

The detectors show the bunker is clear. Someone must have had the utility cut the line and replaced the section of pipe last night. I’d bet the Palmer Tech money on Dinah, everyone else has been at the hospital or dealing with their own burns and strained muscles. That is my cue to check myself out and really get to work.

Curtis helps me, but I try not to make him stretch his arm too much and send him searching for parts I forgot. I’m not the most patient taskmaster and eventually my gophers make themselves scarce.  One major new addition is a larger, better stocked, med bay of our own in the Arrow Cave. The old one proved multiple times to be lacking; this will take care of that. Fuck this whole ‘patch you up on the nearest table or wheeled out gurney’ because there’s not enough space or equipment to do what we need. My eyes keep tracking the dots of blood on the floor that everyone else is apparently blind to, and it takes every ounce of patience I’ve ever had not to scream out demands as they filter in and out with their ‘take it easy’ and ‘you need to focus on healing yourself’ nonsense. They don’t understand, so I don’t bother trying to explain. Instead I wheel myself around and spray and scrub with the mop that was added to Curtis’s shopping list in the moments where I can’t do anything else useful while waiting for things to load or finish installing, I guess this is the rare offshoot of my mom’s clean-when-stressed habits.

Chapter 2 – Trapped, Less Than 24 Hours Earlier

He keeps asking if I’m ok. Then he goes and does exactly, exactly, what is guaranteed to be a bad move. Climbing up an elevator shaft without equipment is stupid, doing it while still dazed from the EMP when a lunatic has booby trapped every other method of escape is just plain idiocy.

Of course it was a trap. Another inch and he’d have a hole punched into his lungs or gut rather than a deep gouge across his side, having landed hard on an exposed bolt.

“Did that hurt?” I ask, fighting the urge to gag as I get another quick look at the wound, steeling myself. Don’t lie, you said you wouldn’t lie to me…

”Yes. Yes it did.”

Well…good. Not the wound, but that he’s still committed to honesty. I let the nitrile gloves snap loudly as I get them on. “You ready?”

He makes a harsh grunt as I lift the temporary bandage again, the edges trying to stick to his skin with a layer of blood. “You ok?”

“With stitching you up on something that could have been avoided? What exactly are you expecting me to say, Oliver?” Let’s get this over with.

The worst part, the one that makes me have to look away for long seconds before forcing myself to finish, is seeing the scratch into his rib bones, a short groove along the edge of that stark exposure.

“If you can’t-“

I manage between dry heaves, “You need…” Don’t puke. Don’t do it. Don’t you dare. “…to be quiet…” Puppies, kittens, bunnies, baby sloths, all adorable and not disgusting things to imagine. “…unless something’s…wrong.”

}]}———}>

“I’ve told you before Oliver, don’t talk to me like I’m other people.”

As the stress keeps chipping a bigger headache behind my eyes, my comments get more acerbic. I know it’s not helpful. I know that saying I told you so is the opposite of helpful. I know we’ll figure a way out of here like always…always, always, always. I know by the small looks and brief squeezes of his hand that he knows it’s automatic, not meant with the harshness delivered.

After our first huge argument, in the temporary haven from this city that was Ivy Town, the one where we both went to different rooms to sleep because the shared bedroom held too many words flung at each other in anger, we had a long, long, talk. A couple hours of introspection and laying those self found flaws out on the table…we came to certain understandings. I don’t bitch about his sharp, increasingly shorter, outbursts, or his need for physical action to work through things, he doesn’t bitch about my verbal claws hunting for blood.

An agreement, a simple code, ‘Enough,’ and the other’s name means drop it, we can pick back up but for now it’s time to ease off. More importantly “I need some air,” is the stop, stop now, immediately, full stop, you shall not pass public-friendly cue.

We have to get out of here. Where else is there to try? What might Chase have overlooked?

}]}———}>

The hint of sarcasm in his voice, his frustration with my comment, I’m sure compounded by his immediately prior that was reassuring me that he had faith in my own skills “By exactly do you mean exactly?”

I wouldn’t have said exactly if that wasn’t what I meant. His quip is just the mindless babble to let me keep talking. So I do as he looks down at me.

“…Please don’t miss.” Of course he won’t miss, he’s Oliver. Oliver with lightheadedness and bloodloss, because I can see that wound still seeping through the stitches and bandage and shirt…

He barely aims, just glares at the grate like it is actively trying to keep us trapped down here rather than an inanimate piece of metal.

“You didn’t miss.”

Oliver doesn’t even acknowledge the comment as he goes to see what’s beyond the gap in the wall.

}]}———}>

He comes back with the climbing gear, and a pack with a handful of small emergency air canisters. I don’t think I have been thankful to the Frogmen, but the fact that we had those left over due to them means this is a fantastic first time to. I ignore the look Oliver gives me as I make the praise, then bite down on the mouthpiece, sucking in a single deep breath and holding it. The next breath is the standard toxifying air down here…one more, then back to the oxygen. He is equally conservative with the water bottle sized tank in his hand. There aren’t many, we have to see how long we can stretch them, in case… 

Maybe three breaths between each safe one.

[brainrattlers]

Alloy Allies, Pt 2/?

Summary: Realizing your life is pretty ho-hum, you get an opportunity to start a new job in a new world for you.  You just didn’t realize how ho-hum life was until after you started working there, and meeting a lot of new people. Characters: Avengers, Female reader, and I have no idea who else may show up yet. Word Count: 5,965 Warnings: Hmm. Nothing much, other than a big issue with motion sickness.  Being awkward with strangers.  (This is pretty much the story of my life, minus being in NYC and the actual characters.) Author’s Note: No seriously, I get horribly motion sick on airplanes and in elevators.  And me meeting new people? It is a disaster.  Since it is taking me so long to write, have a ginormous chunk :)  I haven’t given up on IHICHI, I just needed some time to regroup.

(Part 1)

After a day of lining up a backup for you at work, in case any of your clients have issues, you packed up what you thought you might need for a couple of days. Laptop, headphones, camera, chargers for everything. Couple pairs of clothes, including some slacks and a nice blouse, despite the previously mention of being overdressed during the Skype interview.  All the necessities for travel were stowed away in your backpack.

And a ton of Dramamine.

Flying in airplanes. Roller coasters. Being in cars with other people driving. It wasn’t your thing as you dreaded something even as simple as an elevator ride.  Some people love amusement park rides… but there are some people who just don’t.  Take a wild guess as to which side you fell to? Yeah.  The joke in your family had always been “Oh, going on vacation? We’re buying stock in Dramamine!”  It was the only thing that kept you from being sick all the time during car trips growing up.

Being the planner you were, you went to bed early in hopes you’d get some sleep. Instead, you just stared at the ceiling for several hours, seemingly falling asleep right before your alarm went off.  Since sleep really wasn’t happening, you hopped up and made some breakfast so you’d have some food in your stomach before the flight.  Cleaned up the place a bit too, not sure why, but there was a nagging feeling in your stomach about it.  You did feel better afterward, seeing all the dishes washed and laundry put away.  Texting one of your colleagues, you snagged a ride to the airport.  

The scenario was a bit surreal.  Your airport certainly wasn’t huge like O’Hare, it had A check-in counter. For all flights. One gate. One security line. Just one.  You hesitantly approached the counter, and provided your ID and itinerary.

“Oh, hello Miss Y/L/N, we were informed of your flight plans today.  I have your paperwork right here, we’ll just need you to go through the security lane, and we’ll get you boarded.”  You were ushered to a table and a metal detector.  You opened your bag, pulling out your electronics so they could be scanned, and sauntered through the metal detector. Once past it, you retrieved your items and repacked up your backpack.  The desk attendant brought you to a doorway that was not the gate, but would take you to the tarmac.  Shielding your eyes from the sun as you followed close behind, leading you to the small jet parked.  The door opened, steps accordioning down to the ground, meeting your feet.  The attendant assisted you into the jet, while the desk worker wished you a good flight.

Once inside, the attendant latched the door, and offered you a seat.

“Your choice!”  The attendant swept her hand around, “You’re the only one on this flight, any of them are yours.  Just be sure to secure your bag and buckle in for take-off.”

You stared, wide-eyed, at the cabin.

“First time on a private?  I get it, it can be a little overwhelming. My name is Anna, once we’re in the air, if you need anything, just press this button on your seat and I can get you what you need.  Looks like the pilot is signaling we’re good to go, if you are?”

You nodded as you chose a seat with a table, buckling your seatbelt and stowing your bag under the chair.  A wash of nerves came over you as you hoped the Dramamine was going to do its thing correctly.  Anna disappeared to the front of the jet, strapping in for take-off.  

The engines revved  up, and you felt the jet begin to move, fingers gripping the armrests tightly.  As you taxied to the runway, the color of your knuckles went from flesh to white with your speed increasing.  Leaning back, you closed your eyes and held your breath and the jet released contact with the asphalt below.  Looking out the window wasn’t an option, you knew you were going to get dizzy if you did.

A few minutes later, the death grip you had on the chair released itself, and you began breathing normally again.  Anna popped in to see if you needed anything right away.  Still unsure if your Dramamine was going to hold out, you asked for ginger ale, if there was any.

Anna returned with a fancy glass filled with bubbling, champagne-colored liquid, and a fancy ginger curl garnish, placing it on a coaster in front of you.

“If you need anything else, please do not hesitate to ask!  Feel free to get comfortable, and move around if you’d like.”

Cold beverage in hand, you took a sip, relishing the sensation of the cool liquid in your mouth.  It tasted divine.  Your anxiety about the flight subsided, you pulled your bag out from under the chair.  Digging around you found your laptop and headphones, and pulled up a program with multiple windows, along with some tunes to code to.  As things were running, you received a notification that you could connect to a wifi network.  Unsure if you were allowed to or not, you paged Anna to question that, along with getting a refill on the ginger ale.

“Absolutely, to both of those!  Your potential employer wants you to be comfortable as possible during your flight.”

Connecting to the wifi signal, you didn’t do a whole lot with it, other than shoot a photo out the window and post it to Instagram, and check Facebook quickly.  With the tunes playing in your ears, another ginger ale with curly garnish in front of you, coding was back on your mind.  Clicking away on the keys, you sent a line of code to the various windows you had open, showing different virtual robotic arms.  Three of the four virtual devices responded accordingly, with the fourth remaining still.  You bumped your head with the beat of the music, trying different snippets of code, with three of the four responding still.  Multiple tries, same result.

It wasn’t until Anna came by and tapped you on the shoulder, letting you know it was nearly time to land, that you realized you’d been working for quite a while without realizing.  Taking off your headphones, you packed up your laptop, and kept your thoughts with the program, trying to figure out what was causing the issue.  Finishing the last of your ginger ale as the jet landed, you were relieved to be on the ground. But then a new wave of nervousness washed up.

You were in New York City.  Interview time. And you still didn’t know what the job was.

The jet came to a halt, and Anna opened the door, leading you down the stairs.  Expecting to be at a busy airport like LaGuardia, you actually found yourself at a small landing strip, with an amazing view of the skyline.  You shielded your eyes as you stepped out, turning circles to take it all in before quickly being whisked away by a woman in a business suit with a tablet.

“Miss Y/L/N, glad to have you here.  Your interviewer is ready, and is excited to meet you.  Based on what we’ve seen of your work, he is very excited to get things started,” the woman prattled on as she guided you toward a large black SUV, opening the back  door for you to step in.  You scooted in, putting your bag down beside you, getting quite a fright as you looked up to see an attractive man in sunglasses sitting in front of you.

“Oh, uh, I.. I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

“I didn’t mean to startle you, Y/N.  Can I call you Y/N? Or should I stick with Miss Y/L/N?”  The man stuck his hand out, and you reached yours out to shake it.

“I just didn’t expect anyone else, I’m sorry. Yes, you can call me Y/NNNNNNN—” You drew out the name as you also weren’t expecting the man to take your hand to kiss your knuckles in an oddly formal/romantic/possibly creepy greeting.

“Excellent, Y/N.  I’m glad you’re here.”  The man took off his sunglasses.

You suddenly realized you were in the presence of one Tony Stark.  Words started failing you, and Tony simply chuckled.

“Sweetheart, can I call you that? I know I’d be in awe of me as well, but we’ve got a lot to talk about today.  So you’ll need to get over your fangirling so we can chat about your work.  Now what can you tell me about NFCs?”

You blinked a few times, trying to form words again.  Finally they started spilling out, especially as Near Field Communications was something you toyed with a few years ago.  The most popular current use for NFC devices are cell phones - think paying for items with your phone, tapping the credit card terminal and your debit card gets charged, without having to swipe your card.  There are other uses as well, it is a growing field.

After feeling like you just spoke for way too long, Tony smirked as he opened the door to the car.

“We’re here, and I’m glad you talked that long because I didn’t have to make up anything to sound smart.  So let’s show you where you’ll be working at.”

“Um, what now?”  You were a little lost, other than you were aware you were in a garage filled with fancy cars sporting license tags like FE MAN1 and STRKMBL. “I’m still not sure what the job is.”

“That’s the thing, sweetheart, we just want you to do what you’ve been doing.  Hold on, let me just show you some stuff, and I think you’ll love it.”  Tony guided you, along with several other employees that joined you in the garage, to an elevator.  

You flinched stepping in, hoping that your Dramamine from the flight was not going to fail you now.  Grabbing the railing inside the elevator car, you closed your eyes and held on tight as the car began to move.

“Are you still with us, YN/?”

Doing your best to hide your motion sickness, you took a deep breath and opened your eyes as the elevator whooshed upward.  Your stomach felt like it was pushed to the floor and your hopes dropped when you noticed you were going up nearly 70 floors.

“Ye-ah, I’m here. I just don’t care for elevators,” you managed to get out before the car came to a quick stop. Inhaling deeply, you blinked hard and swallowed everything back down before exiting the lift.

“You’ll get used to them, promise.  I don’t think you’re going to want to take the stairs, as going up 70 flights of stairs every day may not be your favorite thing in the world.  Plus, I heard you were a fan of the ginger ale on my jet… I can make sure your fridge is stocked.  Anyway sweetheart, shall we?”  Tony guided you toward a large room that was like a grand entrance to Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory.

Inside was rows of workstations, touchscreen tables, and most impressive, projected displays suspended in mid-air, where people could “touch” items and move them around. You’d only seen such things in movies and didn’t believe they were real.  Your eyes were glassy and wide like marbles, and Tony couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Oh kid, I love showing this stuff off to everyone.  But I think I need to call a friend over to show you a few other things,” Tony turned away, scanning the room. “Hey, Bruce! C’mere!  I want you to meet Y/N, and tell her what you’re working on.”

You froze up immediately.  Dr. Bruce Banner was an idol of yours for quite some time, despite that whole turning green and enlarging with rage bit.  He’d mainly been successful in meditating and keeping it in check, and was able to continue his studies.  It wasn’t something you normally did, but you started fangirling again and not sure what to say.  You stuttered. You shook his hand probably too long. It was just awkward, but you were sure that these guys got that often.  After letting go of the insane grip you had, Bruce started talking about the projects he was working on.

“So is this something you could see yourself collaborating on, Y/N?” Bruce looked hopeful.

“I’d love to be working on this sort of thing, Dr. Banner, but what does that have to do with my skills? I’ve never worked with this sort of tech before.”

“It’s Bruce, and that is why I said ‘collaborating,’ because we’d be taking what you’re going to be working on and blending it in.”

“That sounds interesting but, I don’t know Dr. Banner. I mean Bruce. Sorry. Agh! I am just.. Ahhh!” You flailed a bit and tried to get it all under control.  Both Bruce and Tony looked at each other and shrugged.  Getting the anxiety back in check, breathing in and out, you continued.  “I just don’t know if I’m the right one for the job, as I’m still not even sure what it is.”

Tony took control of the conversation.  “We’ve been seeing what you’ve been working on with languages with the legacy robotics, and we think it is something that could come in very useful. You’re also very versatile, so we’ve got plenty of upcoming projects for you to work on here in the science and engineering sectors.  But what you’ve been working with currently, that is what we’re super excited for.”

“You know this is just a hobby for me, right?”

“Those are the best sort of jobs though, working with what doesn’t feel like work - Iron Man never would have been a thing if I didn’t enjoy it. And look what I’ve been doing with all the suit designs?  That reminds me, I’ll have to show you the latest iteration of it.  Maybe give you an old one to play with to see what you can program it to do.”  Tony smiled and grabbed your hand.  “Please work with us? Pretty please with sugar on top?”

The look on your face was one of confusion, excitement, horror, worry, and general not-knowing-what’s-up.  Someone approached Tony from behind you, turning to face you.

“Tell you what, kid.  HR is going to give you a tour of the building, and you can make your decision. But think about how HAPPY you would make us if you joined our team!  Please sweetheart, make the right choice.  Alright,” Tony turned to the HR rep, “Take good care of our Y/N here, and convince her this is the right job.”  He patted the HR rep’s shoulder as he and Bruce went back to work.  She simply chuckled and smiled warmly at you.

“Alright,  Y/N, I’m sure you’ve got plenty of questions, but I’ve been told to give you the tour first.  Feel free to ask any questions though that come up while we’re taking a look around.  First, I see you have an acquaintance over at the Maria Stark Foundation, I thought we’d drop by there first and maybe you can say hello real quick before we head off on this adventure.”

Oh boy, another elevator ride, all the way to the 3rd floor.  You got your bearings and followed the HR person through a row of cubicles and knocked on the cube wall.  Y/F/N’s chair turned around, and she shrieked, jumping up to hug you.  The two of you chatted for a few moments, until her phone rang, stating she should get back to work.  She wanted to meet up with you that night if you were available though.  The HR person smiled and nodded as you said you’d text her when you were finished up.

Continuing on with the tour, you took multiple elevator rides to seemingly opposite ends of the building constantly.  The Dramamine was wearing off, and the HR person could tell.

“We’re almost done, Miss Y/L/N, actually we’re going to meet with Mr. Stark again here shortly. Did you have any questions?”

“Actually, I do, and I hate to just put it out there, but what sort of pay am I looking at?  Y/F/N was telling me about her rent situation and I am very concerned about not being able to afford it.”

“Fair question, and I am glad you asked.  First I wanted to show you the fitness area you’ll have access to… it is up on floor 82.”  You groaned at the thought of another elevator ride.  Stepping out slowly, you were brought into a darkened room that was unlike the normal cheery gyms with music pumping and rows of cardio equipment. Instead, there was more open area, lots of mats.  A rack of weights was along one wall, and a handful of treadmills, ellipticals, and bikes were on the other side.  A punching bag was in a dark corner, and some movement caught your eye as a figure was doing situps.  The figure stopped, and you could feel eyes on you as a low grunt emitted from the shadows, going back to working out.

“Oh, I am so sorry sir, we didn’t mean to interrupt.”

The man continued working out as she lead you out of the gym.

“You never know whom you’ll run into around here.  This gym is a little different from most, but Mister Stark has requested that you have access to this particular one.  Anyway, where were we, oh yes, compensation.  I think Mister Stark has created quite compensation package. I know you were concerned about rent, but rest assured, he has you covered.”  The representative handed you a packet with the top sheet indicating pay.

Your eyes widened in shock.  The breakdown included “rent”, and you asked what that entailed.

“Actually Mr. Stark has you slated to be living on the 86th floor. Suite 4.”

“Like... here?”

“Oh yes, he figures you’d want to be near the action.  I believe his words were ‘I’ve seen her posts on forums, and when inspiration strikes she runs with it, no matter the time of day.’”

You couldn’t disagree with that statement.  Sleeping wasn’t always something you did at night, and more often than not, you’d work into the wee hours, only to take naps and sleep later.  You might have to work on that schedule a bit though.

The elevator doors opened, and Tony sauntered through the doors.

“So Y/N, tell me you’ll work for me. Seriously I think you’re going to love it.  I tell you what, give me 2 weeks, and if you don’t love it, no hard feelings and you can go back to your hum-drum job you had earlier.”

You flinched at the thoughts running through your head.  Were you flinching at the fact he called your job hum-drum, or was it the fact you were agreeing with him? Nothing in particular was keeping you there, other than all your stuff.  The amount of pay you were going to get was way more than you were making at home.  And apparently rent was taken care of?  You couldn’t believe this opportunity that was falling into your lap.  You’d be crazy to say no.  The only trick was getting yourself to say yes.  It was far from home, it was somewhere new, where you only knew Y/F/N.  Sure, you’d meet new people, but this would be a huge change.  Plus all of your stuff was neatly tucked away at home. Somewhere familiar.

Internally, your brain shot back arguments at itself for one side or the other.  You took a deep breath trying to quell the inner dialog.  Before your brain could send another thought through, you opened your mouth.

“Okay.”

Tony took a step back, clutching his chest in surprise.  “Is… is that a yes?”

You gulped down the nerves that suddenly erupted. “Yes.”

Tony damn near squealed as much as a guy can, and got up close, grabbing your hand and twirling you around in a celebratory dance.  

“This is the best news.  Alright, well then, I’m going to let you finish up your new hire tour, and get things going.  YES… I must go tell Bruce the good news.  I will see you soon, Y/N… I hope you’re excited, I can’t wait to see what you do!” Tony nearly skipped back to the elevator, giving a thumbs up as the door closed in front of him.

Your mind and heart were racing, a feeling of being overwhelmed washed over you as the HR rep continued talking. Most of it went in one ear and out the other.  Finally getting your attention, you were snapped back into reality.  Following the explanation, you were going to finish up paperwork, get your ID badge made (“Really? I’ve been traveling all day and am motion-sick from the elevators, and you want to take my photo?”), and your last stop on the tour, your new home.

Home.  It was weird to say that.  The final elevator ride took you to floor eighty-six.  The two of you walked down the hallway, showing off the communal kitchen that was stocked full of food, a common room with couches and a giant television, and finally, your space.  The representative handed you your ID badge, and had you swipe it in front of the sensor, unlocking the door.  

As you heard the door lock clicking, you noticed a brown-haired man walking down the hall in a henley and jeans, although you didn’t have a chance to really see who it was.  He dug a key card out of his pocket and swiped it, stepping inside almost immediately without looking over your direction.  Something glinting in the light of the hallway caught your eye, but you couldn’t figure out what was shiny.  Maybe it was just your imagination playing with you, as tired as you were.  Your attention was regained quickly as you felt the air shift as the door opened in front of you.

“It is small, but should be more than adequate to fit your needs.”

You started laughing as soon as you walked in.  Your tour guide looked at you with concern to your sudden outburst.

“Small? The living room is nearly the size of my whole apartment back home… er...  that is going to take some getting used to not saying.”

“Mr. Stark has set you up with some necessities to get you through the next few days, although I’m seeing that the movers will be at your old apartment tomorrow at 5am to pack and move you, and things should start arriving around noon.  And I see you start work on Friday, so you will have a day of work and then the weekend at least.  Just remember, Mr. Start works hard, and expects to play hard too, so at least you’ll have some time to rest before Monday again.  Should be fairly quiet this week though, some of your neighbors work off-site often, and are currently out working.  I’m sure you’ll get to meet them soon enough though.”  

You were halfway listening as you looked around the space, with a living room, a small kitchenette if you didn’t feel like using the communal kitchen, bedroom, and bathroom.  

“You’re welcome to keep your furniture, but if there is anything already here you decide you like more, we’re more than happy to store your things until you decide what to do with them.”

Nodding, you wandered toward the window, with a view overlooking the city.  You couldn’t look down as everything started to spin, but looking out at the expanse, you felt very small.  It was all setting in, especially when your guide started having you mess around with F.R.I.D.A.Y., who was like Siri on steroids.   F.R.I.D.A.Y. was tied into the whole building, and depending on your security level, you could access other people’s info or at least figure out where they were.  After explaining a few features, you were given a few small tasks to get you used to talking to F.R.I.D.A.Y. to set up things, get information, and just generally not be weirded out that you were talking to a computer.

Satisfied that you were good to go for the night, the representative provided her contact info in case you were needing anything immediately, and wished you the best of luck.  

You set your backpack on the chair in the living room, and sat on the bed.  Exhausted, you fell backward, plopping your head on a pillow.  A soft groan left your mouth as your body seemed to meld with the mattress.

“I might just have to put my old bed in storage… this bed is WAY better than my own,” you thought to yourself.  Grabbing your phone, you texted Y/F/N that you were done for the day, but exhausted.  

“Can we do something low-key tonight for dinner? I seriously feel like I’ve been running all day and hit with the exhaustion stick.”

“Sure. I’m just finishing up for the day.  I know the perfect place.  Where are you right now?”

“I’m in my ‘room’ for the next few days.  I can come meet you, I need to get used to the layout of the place.”

“Sure thing. Meet me in level 3 of the parking garage.  My spot is #313. See you in a couple! EEE!”

Wandering the hall to the elevator, you took a deep breath and stepped inside the car, and told FRIDAY to send you to level 3 parking.  The feeling of weightlessness took hold as you whooshed toward the ground, gripping the rail tight with eyes closed.  Once you came to a stop, the doors opened, and you inhaled slowly trying to regain your bearings.  You wandered up and down some rows of cars, and finally saw Y/F/N coming toward you.

“OH MY GOSH Y/N!” She hugged you tightly. “I can’t believe you’re really here.  It is about time you made it out here.  You have to tell me ALL about it!  I need details!”  Y/F/N was nearly shaking you all while jumping up and down in excitement.  Dragging you to her car, you hopped in the passenger side, zooming out of the garage.

“I know the perfect place to eat, not too far from here.  Italian okay?”

You nodded as the car pulled up to the curb in front of a tiny little restaurant tucked in amongst storefronts.  Once seated inside the quaint mom-and-pop eatery, the questions were flying at you fast and furious.  Y/F/N wanted all the details.

“WAIT, you’re LIVING in the tower? THAT IS INCREDIBLE!  I’m so jealous!  Ugh, my apartment is a damn shoebox and you, you’re in the tower!”  The squeals never stopped as you tried to explain the situation of you were there temporarily until you made a full decision about the job. “YOU KNOW THE AVENGERS LIVE IN THE BUILDING TOO RIGHT? DID YOU SEE ANY OF THEM?”

Trying to calm her down, you tried to explain you hadn’t, but your realized you actually had… both Stark and Banner.  But you knew that wasn’t what she was angling at - she was in love with Captain America.  Since he broke loose from the ice a few years back, she was smitten.  You heard about it all the time.  About how he could show up at the building, on her floor even, any time… yet never did.  You’d heard stories about how she had hung around trying to get invites to Stark’s soirees, anything so that she could meet Star-Spangled Steve Rogers, but hadn’t.  She insisted you help her.

“Pretty sure I won’t likely be seeing him.  From what I can understand, I’m working in the lab with Stark and Dr. Banner, and I’m not even sure really WHAT I’m doing.”

Continuing on with a rundown of the day and what to expect the next few, your dinner arrived and you ate while talking about feelings with everything, if it was even something you wanted to do even.  But you were going to give it a shot, see what comes of it, considering how excited Stark was.  With dessert plates being pushed away and the finishing of a bottle of wine, your eyes were drooping. Y/F/N realized what time it was, and put it all together, taking you back to the tower.

“We gotta do this again sometime, Y/N.  Housewarming party?”

“HA.  Let’s give it a while before we go that far with it.  Thank you for dinner, and with that, I’m going to bed. Love you!”  You hugged Y/F before getting out of the car.  “We’ll keep in touch, maybe this weekend we can hang out if I’ve got some time off.”  She nodded, and you waved as the car zipped off.

Flashing your ID badge at the door, you headed inside to the dreaded elevator, and took the quick upward ride to the 86th floor.  As the door opened, the man you came across earlier was walking toward you, stoic look on his face.  Clad in gym clothes, he swapped places with you in the elevator as you exited, and gave you a small nod as passed. You waved and attempted to say hi as the doors closed.  

“Hmm. I probably should introduce myself the next time I see someone walking around here…” you thought to yourself as you unlocked your room’s door.  Stepping inside, you kicked your shoes off, and grabbed your bag, pulling out your toiletries and some pajamas, which apparently were an old tee and some boxers.  Climbing into bed, you snuggled into the blanket, asking FRIDAY to turn off the lights, and to make the windows dark.  

Sleep wasn’t a thing to be had apparently, as you tossed and turned. Too many lights, too many sounds that you were not used to.  Finally around 1am, you rolled out of bed.

“FRIDAY? Is there cereal in the kitchen?”

“Yes, Y/N, Mr. Stark said you are more than welcome to utilize the kitchen.”

Pulling your hair back, you quietly exited your room, heading down the hallway toward the communal kitchen.  The lights were dimmed in the hall, but a single light shown near the sink in the kitchen.  Padding silently, you looked for a bowl and a spoon, and found the cereal cabinet.  Looking off into the lounge, you could see the soft glow of the television on, showing a documentary with footage in black and white.  You went back to pouring milk in your bowl, trying to not disturb whomever was sitting in the neighboring room, top of head peeking over the sofa edge.

The intention was to head back to your room, but in a moment of clumsiness, you dropped your spoon, clattering against the ceramic tile floor.  You froze as the head hiding behind the back of the couch whipped around.  Blue eyes were boring into yours, you felt like a deer in headlights before you finally reached down to grab your spoon.  All sorts of thoughts came into your mind, mainly how beautiful this man was.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” awkwardly fell from your mouth. “Um, uh, good night.”  Feet making an about face, you took off for your room, bowl of cereal in tow.  You were starting to kick yourself, remembering your whole plan to start introducing yourself to people.

“Wait, come back...”

You froze again, unsure if the man was speaking to you.  Slowly turning, you mouth “me?” as you point to yourself.

“You’re new here, yeah? I saw you earlier.”

Feet with a mind of their own, they shuffled you back toward the voice in the lounge.  Finally to the side of the couch, you realized it was the man you crossed paths with at the elevator, and earlier, the one that was going into his room when you were finding out about your own.

“Oh, yeah, when I was being shown my room, I remember.”  Smooth.

“Naw, earlier than that.  You were being given the tour of the gym, but I’m not sure why you were at that particular gym.  Or on this floor either.” He eyed you up and down, smirking.  

It then hit you that you were in your pajamas, and you felt awkward as hell.

“Er, yeah.  And uh, um, yeah I’m new,” covering yourself with your arms holding the bowl of cereal.  “I guess my stuff gets here tomorrow, hence my spectacular pajamas.  I start working with Mr. Stark and Dr. Banner on Friday. Oh, hi,” you stuck out your free hand, “I’m Y/N.”  You finally did it.

The man stared at your hand, and then slowly took it in his, shaking it slowly.  “James.”

“It’s uh, nice to meet you James.  I should let you get back to your documentary, I should probably sleep.  Maybe I’ll see you around though.”

A small smile graced his face.  “You don’t have to leave.” There was a twinge of loneliness in his voice.  “I know things can be a little overwhelming here, us rookies gotta stick together, y’know? I do hope I see you around though, Y/N.”

Your fingers were still being held by his, and it was realized by both that it might be a tad awkward as you pulled apart  It then also registered what he said, and you felt your cheeks turning a bit pink at his statement.  A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips.  

With a tiny nod, you took your cereal bowl and spoon with you back to your room.  As you opened your door, you glanced over at the lounge again, seeing James peeking over the top of the sofa at you, his eyes crinkling with a hidden smile behind the cushions.  A small grin and blushed cheeks appeared on your face as you looked down at the door knob, before turning it and going inside.

With the cereal on your desk, you pull out your laptop and start working on the project you were working on during your flight.  Still struggling with one model of virtual mechanical arm not responding correctly, you leaned back and pinched the bridge of your nose and tightly squeezed your eyes shut.

“Miss Y/L/N, may I interrupt?”   F.R.I.D.A.Y. scared the hell out of you, but you realized it was something you’re just going to have to get used to.  “I have two messages from Mr. Stark.  First, he said to tell you to check how the particular model was deprecating your character strings, try extending it with the snippet of code I have just emailed you.  Second, he says that you should stop working, you don’t start until Friday morning.”

You stared at the screen, lines of code blurring your vision.  After tapping a few keys, all four virtual arms articulated their fingers into peace signs.

“ F.R.I.D.A.Y., how did Mr. Stark know I was working on this?”

“He said to remind you that there is no such thing as a free lunch. He saw you working on the jet, and knew you’d probably be working tonight.”

You laughed.  “Thanks F.R.I.D.A.Y., I should have known.  Tell Mr. Stark that his code worked, and that if I am not supposed to be up working this late, either is he.”  Eyes beginning to get heavy, you decided to call it a night.  “Goodnight, F.R.I.D.A.Y.”

“Goodnight, Miss Y/L/N.”

You facepalmed yourself, realizing you just said goodnight to a computer.  But you didn’t care at that point, you were going to need a few hours of sleep before your things arrived first thing in the morning.

[txhatch]

Would You Go One Year without a Smartphone for $100,000?

I am a millennial. I was born in the early 90s where I grew up on Nickelodeon and dial up internet. I graduated high school several years before Instagram and Twitter, back when Myspace was still a thing. At my best, I could text 74 words a minute using T9.

And I’m ready to do it all over again.

Could you go one year without a smartphone for $100,000? This the challenge being thrown down by the good people at Vitaminwater. In addition to providing you with a refreshing electrolyte-filled cure for your hangover, the company is offering a cool six figures to anyone willing to live with a “1996-era cellular telephone” for 2019. The participant will agree to not use or touch a smartphone for 365 consecutive days. The restriction is just for smartphones and tablets, so you won’t have to live totally in the 90s. Laptops and desktop computers are okay to use as are voice-activated devices like google home or amazon echo.

Vitaminwater knows the challenge is difficult so they want to know what you’d do with your time if you are chosen to go “scroll-free for a year” in this contest. Frankly, most of the entries are what you’d expect for people who will be facing a year without technology (or just general New Year’s resolutions we all make annually and then quit by March): read more, exercise more, spend more time with friends/family, cut social media time, etc. All of these are admirable. I respect the commitment to improving one’s self and I hope those not picked will continue to strive for those goals nonetheless.

But let me make my case to you Vitaminwater. Pick me. You say that one out of every two people can’t go without a smartphone for a year, so who better to challenge the notion than a late 20s millennial? I mean nobody thinks our generation can do anything right anyways. According to most, we’re technology dependent, socially inept, and our personalities are mostly defined by the image we project online. Hell, a year ago, I would have told you I could easily go a year without a smartphone, but things change. I upgraded to an iPhone XR at the end of 2018 and honestly the thought of my Instagram story going blank for a whole year sounds problematic. Who else will post portrait mode pics of animals, rooftop patios with a temperature sticky, or filtered pictures of a Polaroid picture from a wedding the night before? Imagine not being able to post my Spotify Wrapped come December. Or not being able to tweet the ridiculous things you see or hear on the Red Line at 6am. It’s almost too much to bear. But then again…

Imagine proving them wrong. For $100,000 I’m in. I’ll hand over the phone, take a lie detector test, and gladly take the challenge to go scroll-free. What will I do instead? Aside from writing about it for a year and providing some exposure for the contest and your brand, not much honestly. Maybe it’s naiveté or maybe it’s cockiness but I’ll pretty much keep doing the exact same thing. I have about 25 to 30 books I’ve been telling myself I need to read. They’ll either get read or they won’t, but having a phone for the last three years hasn’t had any effect so far. I work out on a consistent schedule already so I don’t think losing social media is going to lead to any #gains. Finally, I use a laptop for work so the only thing changing there is when I tell someone “I didn’t see your email until just now” I’ll finally be telling the truth. I’ll admittedly miss posting to Instagram and scrolling twitter. My biggest concerns are the same ones that killed me last time I went without a phone, namely uber/lyft, airline travel, and reading books or the news.

But imagine the content. “Dating with a flip phone in 2019” is Pulitzer worthy content. “My friends stopped inviting me to brunch because they can’t add me to the group chat” has potential to be the best sob story since Marley and Me. “I have to answer phone calls from numbers I don’t recognize” could be this year’s Get Out. And c’mon, “I had to talk on the phone for 40 minutes with my great-uncle Charlie for his birthday because I can’t post to Facebook” is heartwarming for all ages.

So I’m in. I’ll give up iMessage for T9. I’ll sacrifice Facetime for the ability to actually close my phone when I’m done with a conversation. Choose me for the scroll-free contest. I’d go #NoPhoneForAYear in 2019. Would you?