#no. 24

[seasononesam]

WHUMPTOBER 2025-No. 24: "I must confess that I feel like a monster"

[lostwhump]

@whumptober | Day #24: "Collapsed Building" Captain America: The Winter Soldier (2014)

[one-piece-aus]

Whumptober Day 24

Paulie x Reader

"[Y/N]! THAT DRESS IS WAY TOO SHORT! WHAT ARE YOU THINKING?!"

"Calm down, Paulie." You roll your eyes and adjust your hold on your clipboard. "It's right at my knees, no big deal."

"Of course it's a big deal! This is a work zone and you're distracting the men here!" Paulie scolded with flustered red colouring his face.

Ah, such is the life of a lady working in Dock 1. You were part of the inventory keepers, noting when supplies arrived and where they'd go. Paulie the shipwright gambler, kept getting flustered over every little thing about your appearance when you two ran into each other during the same shift. At first, it bothered you, and if it weren't for Paulie seeming to be one of Iceburg's favourites, you would've tried drowning him. Then, someway, somehow, he grew on you.

"Oh please, I won't be distracting anyone." You wave your pen around dismissively. "Besides I even got bending down covered, I'm wearing shorts underneath, see."

You tease him and lift the hem of your dress to show him your black shorts. Paulie's nose exploded blood out, steam flying from his face. Giggling, you drop your dress' hem back down.

"I think you broke him, [Y/n]," Kaku commented, walking up to you.

"He'll be fine. Whatcha need?" You turn to your other co-worker.

"New shipment came from the West Blue," Kaku informed you, leaning closer to add, "Devil Water Pose."

Devil Water Pose... Devil Wanted Poster...

Looks like another assignment has been added, which means your time at Water 7 is closing. Who knew Nico Robin would come here...

"Got it." You nod, keeping your smile. Kaku tips his hat and leaves to help other workers.

"What was that about?" Paulie asked, lighting up a cigar and raising a brow at you.

"Oh, Kaku just let me know about some supplies that just came in. I should go mark that." You spin away, finding it hard to face Paulie.

Paulie stares at your back, mildly puzzled. Something felt off, you don't leave in a hurry like that, especially in high heels. Maybe he's just overthinking.

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

You sigh, sitting at the bridge near Galley-La, clipboard in hand. Clicking the pen several times, trying to brush away writer's block, you stare at the paper underneath all the pages you stuff into the clip. If only you had more time to write this.

"What got you all bummed out?"

"Ah!" You flipped the papers down to hide the final page. Looking up, you see him. "Paulie, you scared me."

"Sorry," he apologized and leaned back against the railing of the bridge. "You gonna tell me what you were writing?"

"A love letter for you," you tease.

"Don't joke about that!"

You giggled, amused by his flustered state, until you looked back at the clipboard. Your mood goes back down. "I... I am writing a letter, I'm just not sure how to write it."

"Who's it for?" Paulie inquired, puffing out some smoke.

"...Someone I care about, I won't be able to see them for much longer."

"How come?"

"Work reasons," you answered, keeping it vague.

"Shame."

"Yup..." You stare at the water canal, biting back your tongue.

"Why don't you take the day off tomorrow to spend time with them?" Paulie asks.

"He'll be busy."

Paulie grumbles beside you. "What a chump, leaving soon and not bothering to spend time with you."

You giggle at the irony. "I don't blame him, Paulie. It's just how things are." You hear the man huff beside you before you continue. "Besides, he probably doesn't realize I care about him... I... I've been a little distant, you know."

"Shouldn't matter if you've been distant, it matters if he cares about you. Otherwise, you're just wasting your time." Paulie put out his cigar. You hum, acknowledging his words, even if your dilemma is different. A hand rests on your shoulder, you glance at Paulie. "If means anything, all of us at Galley-La care about you, [Y/n]."

"Thank you, Paulie." You wrap your arms around him, catching Paulie off guard. If things were different, maybe you would've given more than a hug. "Thank you for caring about me."

Paulie halts his emotions, sensing there's more to your story than you're telling him. He returns the hug, not understanding why it feels like you're saying goodbye.

And he won't know, until he reads your letter after you're gone.

Tags: @bookandyarndragon @roseoftrafalgar

[archiveofaffinities]

Karl Benjamin, No. 24, 1968

[quietlyimplode]

Everything in Transit

An accident leaves Natasha without her memories, without anyone to guide her, and the Red Room chasing after her, the odds are not in her favour… unless those that love her find her first.

Whumptober 2025: Day 24 - Amnesia

Warnings: fighting, amnesia

Word Count: 1.5k

Summary: now what… they have Natasha but no answers.

Whumptober Masterlist/Masterlist of Fic / ao3

.

PARIS / OCTOBER 05 / 7:00AM

Yelena stares at Natasha’s body.

“What do we do now?”

She wipes at her now bleeding nose, and glances around.

People scattered when they started fighting.

Clint glances up and looks to all the cameras and calls Tony.

“Hey,” he says on the first ring, as Tony picks up.

“We have her.”

Tony’s audible sigh of relief matches what Clint feels.

“Can you wipe the cameras in Gare Du Nord?”

“Yeah, of course, we’ll be leaving the hospital today - do you know the safe house on baker street?”

Clint smiles.

“Yeah, Maria might meet you there with a woman called Diana. She helped Nat out, can you make sure she’s okay?”

Clint is trying to cover his bases, think two or three steps ahead but he can’t, all he wants is Natasha in a safe place where he can talk to her.

God, he hasn’t spoken to her in five days, even when they’re on separate missions it’s never this long unless something is really wrong.

“I have a house just outside of Paris, you can use it?” Tony offers.

Clint’s breathes a sigh of relief.

“Yes, please.”

Tony rattles the address and assures him he’ll organise for the keys would be under the mat.

Clint nods to Yelena, and hands her the phone. He picks Natasha up and continues on.

.

Natasha’s face is a mess of hurt. Her whole body for that matter.

Her shoulder, the scars.

She’s in a bedroom. It’s nice, plush.

She wants to lie on this bed forever.

It feels safe, warm.

She knows she should get up, find out more. But if she keeps her eyes closed a little longer….

“I know you’re awake,” an accented voice tells her.

“Your breathing changed. Please don’t fight us. I don’t like… please don’t. We aren’t the bad guys. I promise.”

She opens her eyes to find a woman staring back at her.

A man stands at the end of the bed, worried eyes taking her in.

She’s stares at him.

She knows him.

He’s safe.

She’s sure.

If only she could remember.

“Who…?”

Her head is splitting, and she feels nauseous.

“Clint,” the man supplies.

“Yelena,” the woman tells her.

“Husband.”

“Sister.”

Natasha frowns.

“I don’t… I don’t remember,” she replies quietly.

Clint nods.

“Can you tell us what you do remember?”

That question is too hard.

She needs a moment, time to regroup.

What if her instincts are wrong?

They haven’t tied her up though.

“I need the toilet,” she tells them, and both nod.

“Are you hurt?” Clint asks.

She shrugs.

“The toilet is just there,” Yelena tells her.

“Do you need help?”

She shakes her head.

The day is not going how she thought it would.

They have the answers she needs.

Natasha ducks into the bathroom and hears thunder clap overhead. The rain starts moments later and she closes her eyes and breathes.

.

She contemplates running.

The fear of her own mind and her own memories, terrifying in its own right.

Natasha stares for a moment, at her hands, avoiding herself in the mirror.

If they know her, then they know her darkness, they know, just like everyone she’s come across, that she is not a good person.

If they know her, does that make them bad people too?

How can she trust them?

And in that, is she feels so hypocritical that she she feels sick.

This is not how the day was supposed to go.

.

Clint watches Natasha carefully, he’s so thankful she’s here. He can’t take his eyes off her.

She guards her body carefully, and he hates that he’s added to it.

She seems cognisant, aware, just… out of it.

He looks over to Yelena and nods to the kitchen.

“Do you mind if I have a moment?”

She cocks her head. So like Natasha, he thinks idly.

“I’ll just go search for food,” she replies, leaving and watching the bathroom door for any movement.

Clint knocks.

“Nat? Can I talk to you?”

He sighs.

“I hate doing it through a door.”

She knows that, it’s how his mother used to talk to him to tell him his dad had gone out drinking. He liked to hide in the bathroom.

He remembers then that likely she has no idea that’s the reason anymore.

His heart hurts that he knows all her secrets, and she knows none of his.

It opens marginally, and Clint takes it as permission.

She’s sitting on the lid of the toilet, her face washed so her can see all the bruising in its glory.

“Nat…” he breathes.

“I…”

He holds up a hand.

“We’ve been here before. You and I. I thought maybe cognitive recalibration might be enough to get your memories back,” he smiles at the memory but it’s met with seriousness.

“But I just wanted to say, I’ll tell you everything I know, everything that’s happened over the past couple of days. But it’s a lot. Sometimes, Nat… sometimes its been too much.”

He isn’t saying this right.

“I want you to have a safe word. An out, if it gets too much or you feel yourself retreating or you want to run… I need you to know that we can stop.”

She frowns at him.

“I… I don’t understand.”

He squats down, making sure he’s below her, his body in her full field of vision.

“There are people after you… when it’s happened before, you’ve needed time, and space to work through it. Do you remember anything?”

The slight hesitation tells him she does but he honours her shake of the head.

“Give me a word, any word, that if you feel yourself dissociating or losing time or anything that makes your brain feel … fuzzy, that you can say and we’ll stop.”

“Mine’s parachute,” Yelena pipes up.

Clint opens the door wider.

She’s eating some crackers and offers the box to Clint who stands and takes one, then offers it to Natasha.

She shakes her head.

“Did I have one… before?”

Clint nods.

“Yes, but you don’t need for it to be the same.”

She looks at him with curiosity.

“What was it?”

“Bayleaf.”

Natasha looks at him with relief. He’s not sure why.

“Yeah,” she tells him, “let’s go with that.”

.

He starts at the beginning, with the wedding, and the explosions.

He tells her of how she was taken and that he doesn’t know what happened in the meantime.

They talk about Diana and how she told them what had happened and Natasha even adds in some details that they missed.

They try asking questions of what happened when she was abducted from the wedding but she just shrugs.

Yelena cooks pasta as they talk, and laments about the lack of cheese in the rich house, but feels better when she finds a stash of chocolate that she breaks open and gives a piece to Natasha.

“We used to have this on Sunday nights together,” she starts.

“Alexei would bring it home and taunt us with it all week, make us do chores and clean, sometimes play us off against each other. But with a reward like chocolate..”

“We’d do anything,” Natasha finishes.

“You’d share yours, but I don’t think I was so kind,” Yelena continues, looking at her intently.

Natasha looks at her strangely.

“You’d share yours,” she starts adamantly, “I know… I know it. I just can’t…”

She slams her fist down on the table, the noise loud and shocking.

“It’s like it’s there but I can’t get to the memory, sometimes the dots will connect but it’s usually just dissociated bad memories. Always… always bad.”

Yelena nods, slowly.

“Tell me, do you remember anything from your avenger life, or after you defected?”

Natasha thinks.

“I… went to the library, I read about myself.”

Clint cringes.

“But not much right? It’s more bad memories, and then worse ones?”

“I remember aliens and people dying because I couldn’t get there fast enough.”

Clint looks to Yelena, his face a mask of worry.

“Yelena, what are you thinking?”

She won’t take her eyes off Natasha now.

“Did they inject you with something, when they took you?”

Natasha’s face pales.

“I don’t know.”

Clint takes over the making of the pasta, pushing Yelena down to sit.

“Why?”

Yelena’s face is as pale as Natasha’s.

“Because I think they did this to you.”

.

[collectivelycreative]

AWW OKAY...(4/20/26)

PT under cut

Aww okay...(4/20/26)

[quotidian-oblivion]

A Feral Beaver Kidnapped Me And Forced Me To Fix My Family Issues

Exactly what the title says ~ Jason opened his eyes and met the sight of his room in Wayne manor. “Jay…?” A voice whispered and Jason snapped his head to look at a very familiar figure in the doorway. Jason squinched painfully. No. No, this couldn’t be happening. He wasn’t ready to meet them, he wasn’t.

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Ft. Tim being a little shit and a nuisance (affectionate)