nah, i go through weapons too quickly for that. i do have some favorites though, that have been with me for a while, which have picked up nicknames. there’s a real nasty grenade launcher that i frequently use to make holes in buildings that clint insists on calling my ‘lockpick’ as if i dont know how to break in like a normal assassin. i know how to pick a lock clint. exploding stuff is just more fun.
i have a set of sweet little throwing knives that natasha usually calls the manicure kit. i would object to that more if they didnt come in handy so often on nail painting night.
i have a regular claw hammer which has seen combat and is officially named the ‘Hammer Of Barnes.” thor blessed it for me. i dont know if that makes it more effective in a fight but it is pretty cool.
i have a big trench knife that has been called ‘mantra’ after that one time when Dr banner was about to hulk out in a hospital ward because it was being attacked by hydra agents. clint was trying (poorly) to keep him calm, and was yelling ‘do your breathing exercises!! use your mantras!!’ at which point Dr banner grabbed my knife and stabbed a hydra guy. he did not hulk out. we were very proud of him.
i once told tony that my fists were named ‘business’ and ‘pleasure’ but i was just messing with him. his face was pretty priceless.
but my favorite named weapon has always been my throwing steve. by which i mean the captain america that i sometimes physically hurl at my enemies. it may not be the most dignified way to get steve into a fight but it sure is effective
Summary: You were just a pre-school teacher, a simple dream that came true as you always adored children. But what you didn’t know, was how one child and her very special father would change you dream forever.
Parts: 1 2 3 4 5
AN:SO I though this was going to be the last part BUT it’s not, I’m so sorry but the next part definitely will and again I’m so sorry for the wait, things had been a little rough at school with exams and just life *ugh* but I hope you enjoy this!
“Hey, what’s wrong man?” Taehyung asked worriedly, as Jimin sat down in front of him, his head buried in his hands as he let out a long sigh.
It had been a couple days since he’d last seen you, and honestly it was destroying him. Every day he’d go to Jieun’s preschool, expecting to see you there, but you weren’t.
But in all honesty, even if you were, he didn’t know what he’d do. What would he say to you after what happened? Would he act like it never happened? Would he bring it up? Would you bring it up?
“I–” he started before grumbling, “I just don’t know what to do Taehyung-ah.”
Prying Jimin’s hands away from his face, Taehyung looked at the boy and teased, “It’d be easier for me to help if you told me what’s actually going on.”
Jimin gave him a look, before sighing again and spilling out everything that happened in the last 3 weeks. From the day he met you,m to the club incident and to last Friday, to where Jimin had messed up big time.
“So you were about to kiss her and then you just..didn’t?” Taehyung asked in disbelief, “Are you freaking crazy? Why?!
"I–” Jimin exasperated before taking a breath, “I couldn’t do that to her.”
He stirred the small spoon he held in his coffee cup as he continued, “I didn’t want to because she deserves someone much more than me. She doesn’t deserve to be held back with someone who’s a single father and–”
“Did she say that?” Taehyung interrupted softly making Jimin look up at him with widened eyes.
“Did she say she didn’t want to be with you? Because I think it’s up to her whether she thinks you’re deserving or not and in all honesty man? You’re hell of a good guy.” Taehyung finished, with a proud smile on his face.
“Just look at the way you raised Jieun. She’s one of the most beautiful kids I know and the sweetest too? Why? Because of you.” Taehyung said softly, making Jimin chuckle, “Even after Herim left you, you still stayed strong. Why wouldn’t she deserve you?”
Draco using the toaster. Poptarts fly out. Draco ends up on top of something and stays there till Harry comes home.
“Don’t move, Potter!”
“Er– what?” Harry had just come home and had been about to step into the kitchen when he heard his boyfriend’s anxious directive.
“I said, don’t move! The second you move, that awful muggle contraption you insisted on buying will attack. Trust me. I’ve already become its victim.”
“What are you even–” Harry cut himself off as, rounding the corner, he caught sight of Draco lying very still on top of the island in the center of their kitchen. He was staring intently across the room at the shiny red toaster, from which protruded two garishly pink–
“Are those Pop Tarts?” Harry asked incredulously. He had no idea where Draco could have possibly come by the sugar-filled American snacks. Nor why Draco, who was still suspicious of all things Muggle, might have considered actually eating one.
“I said not to move, Potter!!”
Harry couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled up at Draco’s ridiculousness. He was still laying perfectly still on the counter. “What happened?”
“Stop walking at it! It’s vicious! I put in one of those awful-looking things, and then I pushed down on the little black part just like you showed me. And I stood there and waited! And waited! And the inside started to change colours—and I think Weasley must have convinced it to support the Canons because it was hideously orange—but no matter how long I stared, nothing was happening! So I moved to get my wand and then BANG! The THINGS flew out and right for my face. My face, Potter. And if you don’t cease your laughter right this minute I swear–”
“Sorry, sorry!” Harry gasped, forcing himself to take the situation seriously. “And how did you end up on the island?”
“Well… I don’t really remember. But the time I realised what was happening, I was already laying here, and I didn’t want to risk moving again.”
“Right,” Harry said. “Well, as you can see, I’m moving and am miraculously unscathed by the things. The toaster is perfectly safe.”
Draco looked highly suspicious, but still somehow found the courage to sit up and slip off the counter. “I want that thing out of our house, Potter! If you think it’s so safe, I suppose you won’t mind if I just leave you to defeat it on your own.”
With that, Draco turned up his nose and stomped out of the kitchen. Probably going off to check for wounds, Harry thought as his lips turned up into an amused smile.
He was just making his way over to unplug the toaster—Draco’s word was all but law, so he had no choice but to get rid of it now—when his cell phone rang.
“Harry, mate!” It was Ron. “Did Malfoy use the toaster yet?” He sounded full of anticipation.
“The…” Harry sighed as he realised that his boyfriend might not be so ridiculous after all. “Ron. What did you do?”
Harry could somehow hear Ron’s grin over the phone. “Oh, you know. Nothing much. Charmed it to turn orange when he tries to use it. Harmless.”
“Well… George did say there might be a few… side effects—”
“Side effects like it attacking my boyfriend’s face?”
Ron laughed shamelessly. “Oh, Merlin, they went for his face?! Oh that’s priceless!”
“Ron! You can’t do that! You know he doesn’t understand Muggle things! How did you get him to try it out anyway?”
“Oh, it was easy! Just gave him some of those Pop Tart things and told him they were your favourite snack,” Ron answered offhand.
Harry’s heart clenched unexpectedly with a wave of affection for his boyfriend. Which was quickly followed by a wave of guilt for laughing at him after all he’d tried to do was make Harry what he’d thought was his favourite snack.
“Ron, I’ve got to go. And you two need to stop your ridiculous prank war. You know if you really do hurt Draco’s face, I’ll never be able to forgive you.”
Ron made a gagging noise. “Gross, mate. Go be a champion for Malfoy’s face somewhere else. I’ll stop hexing your toaster when he stops confunding me every time I go to the bathroom at work.”
Harry smiled. “Fair enough. I’ll see what I can do.”
He hung up the phone and walked over to the toaster, unplugging it and shoving it into a plastic bag. Then he went to find his boyfriend, who was reclining on the sofa reading a copy of Witch Weekly, which Harry was very aware by now was definitely also for Wizards, Potter.
Harry quirked the corner of his mouth and held up the sack full of offensive appliance. “I thought I could go by Ron’s tomorrow on my lunch break to see about dropping this off and charming it to look like his old toaster?” he tried.
And succeeded. Draco’s face broke into a very satisfied grin. “This is why I love you, Potter.”
Harry’s grin developed into a full-on smile. He plopped down on the sofa, held up the sad excuse for a pastry he had taken from the toaster and offered, heedless of Draco’s increasingly disapproving expression, “Pop Tart?”