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lunaroserites · 1 month

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Art and Ice - Nicknames

Pairing: Eventual Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Characters: Natasha, Wanda, Pietro, Loki, Bucky, Sam Wilson, Clint Barton, a lot of the avengers cast is mentioned.

Summery: Bucky and MC meet officially for the first time!

This might a 2 or 3 parter (it's gonna be more because cannot help myself). College AU, our boy Bucky is on the hockey team, and reader is an art major (because I love that trope and couldn't help myself)

Warnings: Not beta'd! All mistakes are my own. Friends fluff, swearing I think, mentions of college students being college students. Bit of friendly harmless flirting between friends. Derogatory use of the word puck bunny. Bucky is a playboy. Mention of drugs (No use, just a couple comments). Fighting, and mentions of attempted drugging at a party.

Word Court: 2957

Likes, reblogs, comments are appreciated!

Please do not repost, translate or otherwise copy my work elsewhere, without my express permission, thank you! Lunaroserites on tumblr and ao3

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

“I can’t do this,” You groaned looking down at the few sketches you’ve managed to produce since you refused to step foot back into the hockey arena again. You could feel the pit you were falling into already growing, and it was all because of a certain fluffy haired, sea-blue eyed hockey player.

“You can do this and you will do this darling,” Loki drawled out as he spoke with a hint of annoyance. He was laying down with his leg dangled off the side of the fountain in the student commons, an open area full of windows and natural light. His other leg was propped up and bent at the knee which you were using as a back rest. You side eyed him begrudgingly.

“This is awful,” you leaned your head back against his knee.

“Well don’t look now, but awful just entered the commons,” you followed Loki’s gaze and noticed Barnes and a couple of the other players entering the area. A couple girls were making their way over to them as they placed their bags down and sat at a bar table. Barnes' eyes swept the commons and caught your gaze, he stopped and squinted and you looked down instantly.

He nudged Wilson with his elbow, who made an annoyed noise, “what Bucky?” Bucky tipped his chin in your direction, Wilson’s eyes followed and he stared for a couple seconds. “Wait, is that the girl from the rink?” Bucky nodded, thinking the same thing. He couldn’t get your eyes out of his head, they were so expressive from the few glimpses he had of them. “She’s hanging out with Odinson’s brother,” the younger Odinson was usually present at the parties his brother threw but rarely participated in anything. Usually hiding away in a corner or in his room reading.

“I think so,” Bucky stood and threw his bag over his shoulder.

“Where are you going?” Wilson hissed.

“To say hello,” Bucky gave him his dazzling smile.

Loki noticed Barnes coming toward you two before you did, your head was down as you focused on the drawing you were working on, “trouble is heading our direction,” Loki said lowly, you looked up without lifting your head and saw Barnes striding in your direction. You swallowed thickly and kept your head down, he might just be walking in this direction for another reason. He couldn’t pick you out in a crowd, impossible, he only saw you twice.

“Excuse me,” your dreams were dashed as you saw the toes of his shoes and his frame created a shadow over your sketchbook. “I couldn’t help but notice you were at the rink a week ago,” he said, “and I know every pretty girl that hangs out there, can’t say I know you,” he said with an air of arrogance. You scoffed at him, side eyeing Loki who had his book covering his mouth, but you could feel the slight tremble from his contained amusement.

“I think you’re mistaken,” you said in a hushed tone.

“I don’t think so, you have the same hair and,” his hand snatched the sketch book from you. “Sketch book,” you jumped startled at the sudden invasion of privacy.

“Hey give that back,” you snapped harshly. Reaching to take the book back, he kept it from your reach easily. You stood now and pushed his outstretched hand out of the way to grab the book from his other hand. Your chest pressed up against his as you reached desperately for the sketchbook. “I said give it back.”

“Ah baby, don’t be like that,” your nose scrunched up and you narrowed your eyes at him, he had a playful expression on his face and his eyes were gleaming with mischief as he gazed down at you.

“I’m not your baby,” you said sternly. “And give me my sketchbook back please, now.” You seethed. His eyes flicked to you for a moment before flicking to the open drawing.

“You know that certainly looks like me, I know I have admirers. But no one has ever drawn me,” he mused as he continued to keep the book from your grasp. You looked at Loki who was already sitting up and standing.

“Give it back to her Barnes,” Loki's tone was tense, and stern. “She asked you nicely.”

Barnes' eyes snapped from the book to Loki in an instant and he turned to fully face Loki. They stood at the same height, but Barnes was stockier. “What are you gonna do about it Odinson,” Barnes taunted.

“Don’t be a child. You wouldn’t want to cause a scene,” Loki said in a tone with underlying intent. “You don’t need the coach to hear about another incident,” Loki said knowingly. You watched the tense exchange between the two men with wide eyes, the tension palpable. A few more tense seconds and Barnes relented, lifting his hands up in mock surrender.

“Whatever prick,” Barnes spat at Loki. “You ever want to have some real fun, you know where to find me sugar” he winked and handed the sketch book to Loki and looked at you once more, his eyes roving over your body. Your eyes widened at his choice of words, taken slightly back by how hostile he became when Loki intervened.

Loki handed you back your sketchbook before putting a hand on your back and leading you the opposite direction of Barnes, you looked over your shoulder quickly before picking up the pace to match Loki.

Once sufficiently far away from the commons you stopped and looked up at Loki.

“What was that?” You asked. You know Loki knew Bucky, hell you’d seen him at Thor’s parties before. Usually you would be in Loki's room with him when you attended them, disliking them as much as he did.

“Barnes being Barnes,” Loki said with a slightly annoyed tone. “He’s got a rap sheet. One more complaint or misbehavior and he’s benched for the rest of the season,” Loki stated. “That doesn’t look great for an NHL prospect.” You nodded as you listened to him speak.

“Thank you,” you said softly as you hugged your sketch pad to your chest.

“It’s no problem darling,” he said back sweetly. “Now, you need to get back to the rink and get your project together.” You huffed and groaned.

“You had to ruin it,” you whined and threw your head back. “I’ll go with Nat to the next practice,” you relented and stared up at Loki.

Loki smiled and patted the top of your head “perfect darling.” You glared at him for a moment before shaking your head.

~The next day~

You sighed as Nat dragged you to the rink, making sure you had the appropriate clothing on this time so you couldn’t duck out randomly.

“This is the worst,” you groaned as you sunk into the hard plastic seats and covered your face with your hands.

“Stop whining, it’s fine,” Nat sat next to you and smiled at Clint who skated up to the glass. He waved at her and you before skating backwards, showing off. Nat was like a giggly school girl as she watched him. You rolled your eyes and smirked at her.

You propped your sketch pad on the arm of the seat and hunched over to draw. Your eyes trained on the skates as the players drifted by. The movement of the blades over the ice was incredible. You had stayed up and researched how the skating part actually worked, “Nat? Did you know the reason they glide like that?” You said absently as you focused on the sketch you're doing. She hummed in acknowledgment, “the blade of skate melts a very thin layer of the surface ice and they glide on the water from the melt,” you muttered.

“Interesting, no I didn’t,” Nat said back as she watched her man snipe a puck into the net. You were watching as well, sketching the stick as he flicked it effortlessly and the puck soaring through the air. Silence fell over you two once again as you focused on the paper before you.

That silence was quickly ruined by someone slamming into the boards in front of you and you yelped in surprise. You squinted at the body in front of you and then glared at him. Barnes. He was saying something but you couldn’t quite hear him, pointing to your ear and then shrugging to indicate you couldn’t hear him. He made some obscene gestures before skating away. You rolled your eyes and went back to drawing once again.

Then someone else banged on the glass making it shake. You looked up and glared, but this time it wasn’t Barnes, his teammate, “Wilson,” Nat said as you stared at him.

Wilson was pointing toward the center of the rink where Barnes was skating effortlessly, moving beautifully on the ice. He moved the puck back and forth quickly causing the defenceman to stumble and he scored on the net. He lifted his hand up in the air and spun on one foot. He pointed his gloved hands at you, you rolled your eyes in response.

As much as you hated to admit it, Barnes' movement was too captivating to not want to draw. “He might be a prick, but damn he can skate,” Nat voiced your thoughts.

“He’s handsome too,” you regretted the words the second they spilled out. Nat turned her head and raised her brow at you, a sly smile on her lips. “No, I don’t mean I think he’s handsome. He’s just you know, got that natural handsomeness to him,” you stammered. “Oh god, I’m making it worse,” you buried your face in your hands. Nat laughed a deep bellied laugh while patting your shoulder.

“No, you’re right. He’s handsome. And he knows it. That makes it worse,” Nat said, her tone a little sour. You nodded in agreement, he then flew past you two, you both rolled your eyes.

Practice ended and you followed Nat to the wait for Clint. She asked you to join them for pizza after practice. Standing in a hallway that leads to the locker room you were showing her what you drew that night.

“Ah, my number one admirer,” his voice rang out, you wanted the floor to swallow you whole. “Did you get my good side,” he asked. You rolled your eyes at him for what felt like the millionth time tonight.

“You only have good sides,” a whiny voice said and you cringed. Nat mirroring your expression but being much more subtle you’re sure.

“Hey babe,” Clint said as he wrapped his arm around Nat and kissed her temple. “Barnes,” he tipped his head toward his teammate.

“Barton,” Barnes said back, “you gonna introduce me to your friend?”

“Uh, she’s Nat's friend,” Clint said.

You shook your head and dismissed Clint with a smile.

“My name is…”

“I like Bunny,” Barnes cut you off suddenly. “I don’t do names for pretty ladies,” he stated. The girl hanging off his arm made a disgruntled noise and looked taken back by his open flirtation while she was right there. You felt a little bad for her.

“Nuh uh, I’m not one of those puck bunnies,” your eyes flicked to the girl hanging off his arm apologetically.

“Never said you were Sketch,” you scrunch your nose at the nickname.

“Original,” you sassed.

“I’ll figure one out,” he affirmed, you crossed your arms over your chest and shook your head.

“God you’re insufferable,” you muttered, glowering at him.

“Is he always like that?” You asked as you sat down across from Nat and Clint in the booth at the pizza place. It was a local spot, well loved by the students that populated the town.

“Barnes?” Clint as he took a bite of his pizza, you nodded.

“Yeah, he’s all talk. He’s practically harmless,” you raised an eyebrow at Clint. “Off the ice, he’s hell on it.” You nodded. “So what’s the project you’re working on?” He asked.

“Movement, human movement. My art prof has a vendetta against me so I’m trying to go outside the box. Pietro offered to let me do the project on him at the track. But Prof. Grace would just say I made the safe choice,” I groaned. “And football season is over so I couldn’t do it on Thor.” Clint was familiar with Peitro and Wanda since they hung around Nat, same as Thor since the sports teams tended to run in the same circles outside games.

“Right, your roommates,” he nodded. You lived with Wanda and Pietro since the start of university, being you were good friends with them. You had met Nat your first year and subsequently met Clint when they started dated that same year. “You’re friends with Thor's brother aren’t you?” You nodded and smiled.

“Yeah, best friends since middle school,” you nodded. “So by extension I’ve known Thor and Hela since then as well,” you added afterwards.

“Why did you pick hockey?” You shrugged.

“Nat suggested I come and watch a practice. You guys move so fluidly on the ice it was easy to draw,” you answered simply, eating another piece of pizza. “And frustratingly Barnes is incredibly talented and moves beautifully, I might have to ask him if I can make him my focus,” you groaned and rubbed your temples. “But he’s insufferable.”

Clint let out a loud laugh at that and nodded, “he can be. He’s honestly not that bad once you can get past the jock personality.” You rolled your eyes.

“That’s like saying cocaine isn’t bad once you get past the cocaine,” you laughed. “I’m pretty sure the jock personality is just him.”

“Eh, he’s cocky, but he’s earned it. He’s pretty damn good,” Clint said.

The rest of the evening passed quickly as conversation drifted from the brunette that had been clouding your thoughts.

“Thanks for the lift,” you waved as Clint and Nat drove away. You quickly climbed the steps to your flat and entered.

“Wanda, Pietro?” You called as you dropped your keys in the bowl at the entrance.

“Living room princessa,” Pietro called sweetly.

“What’s you guys watching?” You asked as you walked into the living, stripping your jacket off.

“Silent hill,” Wanda answered.

“The one with Kit Harington?” She nodded, you smiled and joined them on the couch.

“How was practice?” Wanda asked softly.

“It was good, I’m going to ask Barnes if I make him the focus. And I think a bullet in the thigh would be easier to deal with than him,” you sighed leaning your head back against the couch. “I was considering asking Loki to come with me when I asked him. But I don’t think that’s a good idea anymore,” you muttered.

“Why's that?” Pietro asked.

“They seem to have some kinda beef,” you shrugged. “He wouldn’t get into it,” you said. “Bucky’s a player, Loki isn’t a fan of that. And he’s been around him at parties. He’s apparently one incident away from being benched for the season.” Pietro seemed to nod knowingly.

“I’m not surprised, he’s a bit hot headed. Gotten into a few fights with people. Usually with good intentions though. Seen him knock a dude out flat on his ass for trying to drug a girl at a party. He also tends to back-talk instructors,” Pietro said. “He doesn’t seem like a bad dude. A little cocky and a bit of a flirt. Seems harmless enough.” You nodded at Pietro’s explanation and watched the rest of the movie with them in silence.

You texted Loki to ask why he didn’t like Bucky. Curiosity getting the better of you. His answer came back in a couple short paragraphs.

He seems like trouble.

Like he can’t be stable for one week.

He looks down on the arts pretty openly as well. Well at least English.

And he was rude to Helena as well a couple times.

You nodded as you read the series of texts. Loki was pretty traditional and he was never a fan of bouncing from one girl to another. Bucky was very open about doing that.

He also gets pretty obnoxious at parties.

He’s had a few scandals as well. Skipping out on one girl to be with another. Bit of a womanizer.

Why?

You quickly typed back you were curious because he was mostly likely going to be the focus for your project.

I figured he would. Guys a prick but he’s good at what he does.

Everyone said that. From what you’ve seen he was pretty good at hockey, not that you could judge that very well. But there was more to life than a sport. You typed a quick thanks back and wished Loki a goodnight.

Wanda and Pietro both went to bed and you stayed curled up on the couch. You decided to do some research yourself. Typing Bucky’s name into the search engine, his stats came up, and few hockey related awards he’s won. Some articles about how good of a prospect he was. His draft position whatever that meant. Him and Steve were drafted together from what you could tell.

Then you saw a Reddit thread from your school's Reddit talking about him, the fights he’s been in, his lack of care for academics and some people fighting about him being their boyfriend and how he was a cheating piece of shit. He apparently got into an altercation with someone on the Polo team and he and the captain of your school's rival hockey team got into a pretty bad fight after a game last year.

Your eyes widened as you read about the fight Pietro mentioned, he was lucky the guy's family didn’t press charges from how badly Bucky beat him. Part of you knew that behavior wasn’t acceptable, but a smaller needy part of you found it insanely hot how far he went to protect the girl the dude tried to drug. You shook your head and closed the search and went to bed. You would ask him tomorrow after practice, which Nat was dragging you too again.

Taglist: @vicmc624

Feel free you send me a message if you have a request or would like more, or would like to be added to the tag list <3

Chapter 3

#bucky imagine #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #fluff #marvel #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky x you #bucky barns x reader #bucky barns imagine #hockeyplayer!bucky x artist!reader #college!bucky #college au #bucky barns fanfiction #hockey fic #college fic

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arlana-likes-to-write · 2 months

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Lightning Bug - Chapter 27

Masterlist

Warnings: nightmare, mention of death and cannon typical violence, grief, lots of grief, Wanda needs a hug and she gets one lol

Note: there is a point in the story where the reader speaks Sokovian, those words are italicized

Word count: 4.8k

“Cooper!” You shirked as the eldest Barton wrapped his arms around you. It was the perfect setup for Nate to tag you and declare you were it. Cooper was quick to let you go and run off. You huffed, wiped the sweat off your forehead, and chased after him. Being back at the Barton homestead was refreshing. You were worried about being there without the buffer of Kate or Yelena, but when you hugged Laura and Clint, you fell into an easy routine. You were quick to jump into a game with the three Barton kids. Nate decided on a game of tag, which you’ve never played, and watched the other kids. Their laughter and smiles made you jealous. Now, it was your laughter that echoed on the Barton’s land while you chased after Cooper. He was fast, but you were faster, especially with the training Maria put you through. You tagged him with ease. The momentum caused you to tag him a little hard, and he fell to the ground. Cooper flipped onto his back. “Oops,” you said. “Sorry.” His chest was heaving, and he used his forearm to block out the sun.

“I forgot,” he took a deep breath and let it out. “I forgot Dad said you were training with Maria and Yelena. This game is unfair.” You giggled and held out your hand to help him, but he refused and stood up alone. There were pieces of grass in his hair.

“Blame it on Nate then,” you smiled. “This was his ideal.” He shook his hair to remove the grass and put his arm over your shoulders.

“You are different than the last time you were here,” you kicked a rock on the ground and nodded. You were different, but it was good. Sometimes, you liked to sit and compare who you were when Natasha found you to who you are now. You felt stronger, more confident in your ability, and happier to be alive. You were in a dark mindset when you first lived on the streets. The crushing guilt of what happened to your parents lay heavy on your chest. The scars left by your father made you feel ugly. You were desperate to feel anything but pain. “It’s a good different,” Cooper continued. “It seems like I’m seeing the real you.”

“Yeah,” you said. “I feel free.”

“Good. Now,” he smiled. “Want to help me tag Nat?”

“Oh, 100%”

Natasha loved Iowa. Every time she visited the Barton Homestead, she found another reason to love this place. This beautiful place she was lucky to call a second home. This time, it was Y/n’s laughter. The sound seemed to travel for miles and miles. It was unguarded, light, and beautiful. She sipped on some lemonade Laura made and sat on the porch. It’s the perfect spot to watch the Barton kids and her own. Her kid. The blue-eyed, terrified teen she met at Annie’s was her and Wanda’s. Finally, it would be a few more weeks as the courts proceed with the paperwork. The lawyers Tony hired said the process would be smooth sailing, especially with the lack of documentation her biological parents failed to submit. They did advise that a court appearance may be necessary, but she wasn’t worried about that. Natasha didn’t need a judge to declare Y/n as her daughter. She was without the legal bullshit.

“It’s like a complete 180 with her,” Clint said. “I know you said she’s opened up more, but I almost had a heart attack when she hugged me,” Natasha chuckled.

“You are so dramatic,” Laura said. She and Wanda were sitting in the rocking chairs on the porch. “She gives perfect hugs. I was surprised by that.” Natasha glanced over her shoulder to see Wanda smile.

“She does, and she puts her whole body into it,” there were moments that took Natasha by surprise—these moments made her heart flutter and her stomach drop as she fell more in love with Wanda. Watching her care so intensely for the young girl repeatedly made her fall in love with her.

“Cooper!” The sound of Y/n’s shirk brought her back to the game of tag. The eldest Barton wrapped his arms around her so Nate could easily tag her.

“I think that’s my cue to start dinner,” Laura said.

“I’ll help you,” Wanda followed her into the house. Natasha leaned back on her hands and watched Y/n chase down Cooper until Clint gently slapped her leg.

“The way you look at Wanda makes me sick. Like your eyes turn into hearts,” Natasha rolled her eyes. “I didn’t know that was possible.”

“Shut up,” she mumbled, feeling her cheeks flush. “Now you know how Maria and I felt all those years watching you pin over Laura,” she flicked the man’s forehead. “Now that was disgusting.”

“You’re an asshole,” the Black Widow shrugged. Clint glanced at the house to make sure no one was around. “When are you going to ask her to marry you?” The question, though simple, caused the Black Widow to freeze as if someone injected ice through her veins. “I mean, come on, Nat, you guys have a kid together, and I know you’ve been looking at properties away from the city. What’s stopping you?” Again, it was a simple question, but it scared her. They had years together and faced more dangers than an average couple would face. Maybe it was fear that she would say no. Rationally, Natasha knew that was ridiculous, but she held back.

“I don’t know,” she ran her hand through her head. She was on the fence about dying it again. “What if she says no?” Her voice was so soft and sounded so small that she barely recognized it. It sounded stupid to say aloud, and she expected Clint to laugh, but he didn’t. Instead, he placed a hand on her shoulder; there was a look of understanding in his eyes.

“Then I’ll slap her,” he deadpanned. “Witchy powers or not, you were my friend first,” the mental image of Clint trying to fight Wanda pulled a laugh out of the Black Widow. “I know this won’t ease your anxiety overnight, but she won’t say. Hell, whoever is patient enough to put up with your stubborn ass deserves the biggest diamond,” Natasha punched him on the shoulder.

When the Sokovian first joined the team, Natasha only interacted with her during training. She was still shaken up by what she was forced to relive. A part of her wanted never to trust Wanda again. She was too dangerous and unpredictable, and her powers were out of control. One night, Natasha made her way to the roof of the compound; she needed fresh air to clear her mind from the nightmare. It seemed that nightmares weren’t only affecting her. Wanda was up there, wrapped in a blanket, and her feet dangled off the roof’s edge. Natasha could have left, never walked over to her, and started a conversation, but she sat beside her. They talked about nothing and everything until the sun came up.

Still, she kept her feelings for her to herself, never crossing that line from friends to something more. Everything came unrevealing until Ross went to the compound and threatened Wanda’s safety. The fear of losing Wanda pushed her to tell her everything. It was messy; she stumbled over her words, and Wanda kissed her to force her to stop talking.

“Hi,” Y/n’s sudden appearance broke her out of her thoughts. The girl’s face was bright red from running around, beads of sweat dripped down her forehead, but the smile on her face was the best part.

“Hi, sweetheart. Are you having fun?” She nodded her head.

“I am,” she said. “I was wondering if you knew when dinner would be ready or if I could grab a snack. I’m a little hungry,” she scratched her head awkwardly. Natasha smiled. It was a nice change of pace, especially when she knew how avoidant the teen was asking for help, even food.

“Laura and Wanda are in the kitchen right now, but I bet if you go in there and ask, they’ll give you something small,” the young girl said, bouncing on her feet and hugging Natasha. No matter how many hugs Natasha received from the teen, they’ll always be special. Wanda was right. She hugged with her whole body. It ended when Natasha felt a hand on her back, and the girl jumped out of her arms.

“Tag,” she spun around to see Cooper running off. “You’re it, Nat!” The Black Widow turned back to face Y/n, who was backing away with a smile.

“Your senses could use some work, all Mighty Black Widow,” she teased. It took a moment for Natasha’s brain to catch up and piece together what happened. She was set up, and Y/n was the bait. She was never tagged in all her years of playing tag with the Bartons. Some may say it was ridiculous, but she had a reputation to protect.

“Get back here, you traitor!” Natasha jumped up and raced after the teen. Maria was doing a great job at training her. She was fast, but Natasha was the Black Widow she wouldn’t lose to a kid. One final sprint, she trapped the girl in a hug. “That was smart,” Natasha admitted. “Using a hug to distract me, whose idea was that?” She began to tickle her sides.

“M-mine!” The teen laughed. “Nat, stop! Stop!” Natasha almost refused, loving the sound of her laughter, but she did. Y/n fell to the ground, rolling onto her back. “You are fast.”

“I got a few years on you, kid,” she held out her hand, and Y/n took it to stand up. “Keep training, and you’ll be faster than me.” She smiled and leaned against Natasha.

“I like it here,” she said.

“Yeah?” The teen nodded. “Would you like a house like the Barton’s one day?” Natasha watched her look around the land.

“Maybe one day. I like living in the tower. Everyone is there, you know?” Natasha nodded. She understood that. Her sister and the rest of the team that became her family were there. It would be hard not to see them all the time.

You woke up with a start. It felt like you were falling, and you woke up before you hit the ground. You were having a sleepover with Lila, sleeping on an air mattress on her floor. Slowly, you sat up and tried not to wake her as you stood up and left her room. You were thirsty, but your legs and arms shook as you walked down the stairs and into the kitchen. But the downstairs wasn’t empty; Natasha was sitting at the counter with a laptop and a glass of whiskey. She took her eyes off the screen when she heard you. “Hey, dorogoy, are you okay?” Were you shaking that much that she could notice?

“Uh yeah,” you cleared your throat. “I had a weird dream and came down for some water.”

“Here sit. I’ll grab you some,” you nodded and sat in the empty seat next to hers. It was hard not to glance at what she was looking at on her computer. Rings. Engagement rings. Your eyes widened quickly, and you looked forward. Natasha placed a glass of water and a chocolate chip cookie before you. “Do you want to talk about your dream?” You downed the glass of water and waited for Natasha to refill it.

“I don’t remember it,” you whispered, picking at the cookie. “I just felt like I was falling and woke up before hitting the ground.” You glanced at Natasha; her green eyes, full of kindness and understanding, were staring at you. “Do you have nightmares?” She nodded, gently taking your hand in hers. You liked the feeling of them, rough and covered in callouses.

“I do,” she admitted. “They aren’t as frequent, but every now and again, one will sneak up on me.”

“How do you get them to stop?” You questioned, your voice cracked at the end of the sentence.

“Time,” Natasha answered. “It’s a cliche line, but as time passes, we are able to cope with the things we did in our past - the people we’ve hurt and those who’ve hurt us,” Time. It was always time. Even Yelena said the same thing to you. But you were tired of your past hurting you. You wanted it to stop. Sighing, you sat back in the chair and glanced at the computer again.

“Are you going to ask Wanda to marry you?” The sudden change in conversation caused Natasha’s eyes to widen. “I mean, unless you have another girlfriend, I don’t know about,” a smile tugged at her lips. “I’m guessing the rings you are looking at are for her.” The Black Widow slowly nodded. A warm feeling filled your body and pushed away the dark thoughts of your nightmare. “Oh my god!” you slammed your hands down on the countertop and cringed slightly at the noise. “When are you going to ask her? Holy shit! This is so exciting!” You were vibrating in your seat. Natasha laughed.

“I haven’t even picked out a ring yet.”

“Can I help?” You asked slowly. Natasha smiled but nodded her head. It was how you found yourself next to Natasha on the couch, scrolling through various ring websites. None stood out to you. You hadn’t known Wanda for long, but a few things came to mind when you thought about her. She wasn’t one to wear a lot of jewelry so that she might prefer something on the smaller side. You knew she cared deeply about her family and the team. Wanda was kind, caring, and compassionate. Maybe she would like something that represents all those things.

“Wait,” you said suddenly. “Go back up.” Natasha scrolled up, and you pointed to a diamond ring. It was a three-stone diamond engagement ring. The description said that the two smaller pear-shaped diamonds framed the center gem. The center diamond was shaped like a square, but the website called it a Princess Diamond. You weren’t sure why it was called that, but you weren’t a professional. “I like that one.”

“Yeah? Why is that?” Natasha questioned. Your head rested on her shoulder, and you shrugged. You weren’t sure why you were drawn to it.

“I don’t know,” you said. “But there are three diamonds and three of us, so I think that’s why I like it.”

Now it was your turn to be up at night with Natasha’s laptop and the missing people’s name folder. It was another long day with the Bartons, playing Just Dance with Lila and a session of archer practice with Clint. However, your mind had yet to stop thinking about these people. So you brought the notebook you got from Lucia’s and wanted to write down everything you could find on them then…well, you weren’t sure. That part of the plan was still to be determined. There wasn’t much on them. No one cared to keep a record of who these people were after they became homeless.

But you found an article from 2012 published a few months after the Battle of New York. The article mentioned Ava Davis and Noah Rodriquez - childhood best friends turned business partners. They opened a fitness center that created personalized plans tailored to each individual’s needs. However, when Loki invaded the city, they lost everything. The fitness center was destroyed in the fight, and Ava’s girlfriend (recently turned fiance) was killed. They fell off the map until Lucia reported them missing.

You chewed on the end of your pen as you stared at the article and the summary you wrote. It was sad; your heart hurt for them. The city was in shambles after the battle; businesses were destroyed, and countless lives were lost. You remembered your father talking about it, saying the Avengers were working with the Devil. Sighing, you took a sip of the tea you made. It was no longer warm. “What are you doing up?” You yelped at the sudden voice. “Oops, sorry,” Clint laughed and poured himself a cup of coffee from the cold pot.

“You,” you placed a hand over your heart. “You gave me a heart attack.” You were taking a few deep breaths to calm the organ beating against your ribs.

“It’s my house. I didn’t expect to see you up!” He defended. That was fair, but you shrugged and returned to typing on the computer. “So what are you doing at this hour? You need sleep.” You were leaving tomorrow, which made you sad. But telling Clint wouldn’t hurt, right? Maybe.

“Someone I used to know before I moved into the tower told me a few people have missing people who have lived on the streets,” you clarified. “She’s reported it to the police, but they don’t care about people like me,” you saw a flash of anger pass through Clint’s eyes. “So I thought I’d use Avenger resources to find them.”

“Does the team know about this case you are working on?” You nodded.

“Tony got me the list of names from NYPD, and I told Pepper.”

“Any luck?” He moved around the counter and sat down next to you.

“Nothing on current whereabouts. It’s not like we can get our hands on cellphones, so tracking them through cellphone towers is out of the question,” you bite the end of your pen. “I thought about using facial recognition through Overwatch when I get back,” you looked at Clint, and he was looking at you. You couldn’t place the emotion on his face. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You are just really good at this,” he said. “I’m just surprised.” You shrugged.

“I read a lot,” you mumbled. “I like a good crime novel.” Clint smiled. “So, do you have any ideas?” He pulled the file before him and flipped through the few pages.

“Well, if you can’t find them now, find the connection in their pass. If you believe these people are being taken, the answer is there. Find the connection between the individuals, which may lead you to who took them,” Clint explained.

“Find the connection,” you repeated. “Thank you! I’ll see what I can find.”

“Be careful,” he said, finishing his drink. “Don’t search for these people by yourself if it comes to that,” you nodded. “I’m serious,” he stood up and cleaned the mug he used. “What you are doing is honorable, but it can turn dangerous, and the last thing I need is an angry Black Widow and Scarlet Witch to come knocking on my door because you got hurt from my advice.” You laughed.

“I promise,” you said. “If I get a lead, I’ll hand it to the professionals.” He ruffled your hair.

“Smart kid. Get some sleep. From what I’ve heard, you have a bus for a couple of days,” you frowned. Natasha and Wanda refused to tell you the rest of the plans for the trip. “Night kiddo.”

“Night, Clint, and thank you again,” he gave you a salute and walked in the direction of his room. Find the connection. Find the connection. You began searching for other news articles, employment records, and rental leases. Every name you researched sent you down a rabbit hole that you followed. They were all different, all coming from different walks of life. One person spent some time in Lagos. Another was a teacher from California. But the one thing they had in common was the Avengers destroyed their livelihood. They lost businesses, family members, and loved ones in battles that the Avengers fought in. What was going on?

Saying goodbye to the Bartons was more complicated the second time than the first. A part of you was reluctant to leave, but you left with Cooper and Lila’s phone number in the new phone you got as a birthday present and a promise to text them all the time. So you loaded back onto the small jet and waved goodbye to them through the window. When you were at a safe altitude, you unbuckled your seat belt and walked over to the cockpit, standing between Natasha and Wanda. “So,” you dragged out the word. “Where are we going?” Natasha chuckled and shook her head.

“We are going to St. Petersburg to visit my parents. They’ve been very excited to meet you,” your eyebrows shot up to your hairline. No one was excited to meet you. You saw Natasha glance at Wanda, who was oddly quiet. She seemed lost in her head, a million miles away. Natasha placed a hand on her thigh. “They are eccentric,” she continued. “Just letting you know.” You hummed, but your attention was on the witch.

“Hey, Wands,” your voice pulled her out of her head. “Can you do my hair? Lila gave me some beads to put in it.”

“Yeah,” she forced a smile. “Of course I can.” You moved to the side so she could walk past you.

“Thank you,” Natasha whispered. You nodded and squeezed her shoulder. Wanda was sitting down with a hairbrush already, and you grabbed the beads from your bag. You sat between her legs and felt the brush move through your hair. It was soothing.

“Where are we going before St. Petersburg?” You questioned softly. Her hands stuttered slightly. “I know we are going somewhere that has you upset unless her parents are that bad.” Wanda chuckled.

“They are great,” you turned to face her when her voice cracked. Her eyes were glossy with tears. “I’m sorry,” she wiped her tears away. “You asked me to do something, and here I am crying.” You placed a hand on top of hers.

“It can wait,” you smiled. “Do you want to talk about what’s wrong?” You sat down next to her with your legs crossed. She faced forward, running her fingers across the bristles of the brush.

“I asked Nat if we could stop at what’s left of Sokovia. Once it was cleared of the rubble, the neighboring countries took the land. Completely erased it from the map,” her accent was thicker the more she spoke. “But a memorial was built in memory of the victims.”

“Like your brother?” You watched her body shake, but she quickly nodded her head. She placed the brush down and gripped the bench you both sat on. You saw the signs of her powers looking for an outlet. She told you that her powers were connected to her emotions. Her body was tense. The red glow of her magic danced on her fingers. Without hesitation, you grabbed her hand and hid away everything you didn’t want her to see. Her magic died down, and she turned to face you. A few tears rolled down her cheeks.

“Can you tell me about them? Your parents, your brother, your home before the battle.”

“Why do you want to know?” You shrugged, opening up her palm and tracing the lines.

“Because it’s important to you, and I want to know about your life,” you said. “I want to know how I can help you.” Wanda smiled, squeezing your hand.

“Sokovia was,” she took a deep breath to steady her nerves. “Messy.” You weren’t expecting her to use that word. “It was messy to the outside world, but those living there found it beautiful. There was a lot of political turmoil, which resulted in the United States trying to fix it. I would fall asleep to the sound of bombs.”

“And you found that beautiful?” You thought living on the streets was hard enough. Wanda smiled, laughing slightly.

“Maybe that wasn’t beautiful, but we weren’t involved in the political nonsense as regular citizens. We had to rely on each other. I met some of the kindest people during those times. My parents tried very hard to provide for us to ensure we had food and a roof over our heads. We would watch sitcoms every night, and the laugh track would black out the war,” Wanda chuckled. “It sounds crazy when I say it out loud. You must think I’m insane,” you would never. “But I had to find the beautiful moments during the darkness.” You understood that. You found yourself doing the same thing: listening to your mother sing Caleb a song, finding a good book, and when your parents left you alone.

“I did the same,” you smiled. “Tell me more about your parents.” You could listen to Wanda talk about her home country for hours and hours. With every story she told, her eyes would light up, and her smile was so big. You hoped her smile would never fade away.

When the jet landed, Natasha and you allowed Wanda to visit the memorial without the two of you hovering. However, the Black Widow was passing back and forth - 5 steps one way, then turned around and walked back the other way. You sat on the ground, knees bent to rest your forearms on them. The memorial depicted an average Sokovian family - a mother, father, daughter, and son. Flowers and the Sokovian flag surrounded the family. “Who built it?” You asked. Natasha stopped her pacing and hummed in question. “Who built the memorial? It’s not like it appeared out of nowhere.” She faced the monument with her arms crossed. Wanda fell to her knees, and you knew Natasha was fighting the instinct to rush over to be with her.

“It kind of did,” she sat down next to you. “Stark has a relief foundation that helps with the messes we make, and they were on the scene before we made it back to the States,” Natasha sighed. “Stark says he didn’t do it, but you know Tony likes to take credit for everything,” you smiled, but the redhead sighed again. “Sokovia was a mess on and off the battlefield.”

“What happened?” You questioned. Natasha was quiet for a moment, gathering her thoughts.

“There was a lot of talk about dismantling the Avengers,” she started. “Many people thought we were dangerous, especially with what happened in New York, DC, and Lagos. Ross was trying to pass the Accords,” the Accords? You weren’t sure what that was. You looked at her, confused. “It was a document that would allow the UN to be in control of us and have all enhanced individuals would have to be registered and monitored,” she explained. Enhanced? So, people like you, Wanda, and America.

“Why didn’t it get passed?”

“We refused to sign it,” Natasha bent one of her knees and leaned back. “I think it was the first time I saw the team stand together,” she admitted. “With us banding together, the Accords made no traction. We were left to make our own choices, but we try to limit the damage we cause and help those affected.” You nodded and focused back on Wanda. You could feel her energy. There was an uptick in her heart rate. Her breathing was becoming uneven. She was grieving, alone. Natasha told you the Accords weren’t signed because the Avengers came together. You weren’t going to let her face this alone.

You stood up and walked over to her, ignoring the way Natasha called after you. You tiptoed, not wanting to scare her. “You can join me,” she invited you. Nodding, you knelt next to her. “It’s so quiet,” Wanda looked around. “Sokovia was never this quiet.” She ran her hand across the ground. “I can’t believe it’s gone.”

“It’s not gone,” you whispered. “Just because the place is gone, Sokovia is still alive. It’s alive because of you and everyone else who survived that day,” you placed your hand on the monument. “Now it lives through me because you are keeping its memory and culture alive.” She placed her hand on top of yours. “Can you sign that lullaby your mom used to sing? I’d love to learn it.”

“It’s in Sokovian,” you smiled.

“I’d love to have another language under my belt.” Wanda laughed and used the back of her hand to clear the tears from her face. She taught you the song. Some words felt heavy on your tongue, but you managed to muddle your way through it. As you learned it, you heard Natasha’s footsteps behind you. She kissed the top of Wanda’s head, and the witch leaned her weight against her. You smiled, closed your eyes, and began to hum the tune Wanda shared with you.

“We’ve been waiting for you,” you sang. “Now you are here. More perfect than I imagined,” the Sokovian words were hard to pronounce, and your voice shook. “Our house is now a home. No matter where you go. Sunlight shines on you,” you open your eyes. “Sunlight shines on you.”

taglist: @aestruvx, @toouncreativeforausername, @modedddd, @julilamoment, @mythixmagic, @yourmamacom, @vicmc624, @cherlenovix, @liliesandrosies, @whitewidowsbite, @clintsbigtoe, @blackbirdv98 @arualdcg@yoyo-w @natbelovasblog, @johnnyhulu, @blackwidow-3, @theenglishswiftie, @faith-olsen

#lightning bug #wandanat x reader #wandanat x y/n #wandanat x you #wandanat x daughter!reader #natasha romanoff x wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x daughter!reader #wanda maximoff x daughter!reader #wanda maximoff x reader

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theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction · 1 year

Text

New Year’s Eve

Characters: Steve Rogers x Reader ft. The Avengers, Doctor Strange, Peter Parker, Sam Wilson, Bucky Barnes (all platonic)

Warnings: None.

Description: It’s December 31. You’ve just returned from a mission. Tony wants to throw a New Years Eve party. And Steve just wants to speak to you for a few minutes.

A/n: Wishing each of you an early Happy New Year! I hope 2023 is filled with happiness and love. Here’s to another year of little stories and imagination running wild x

There was a lot of noise coming from below. You would have been bothered if you hadn’t already been up awake still jumpy from the mission in Wakanda.

The thumps and bumps drew your curiosity and you set off on a journey to see what was happening. Two floors down, you ran into a series of strangers in the tower wearing guest passes. As they walked by, you noticed your favourite spy-turned-Avenger leaning against the kitchen bench.

“What’s with the good looking people at 8am?” You asked.

Natasha was quietly watching Tony sign some documents out on the helipad and sipped on her favourite morning juice.

“Didn’t you hear? Tony wants to have a lavish New Years Eve party tonight.”

A few of the stronger workers were lifting crates marked with ‘warning: explosive’ according to Tony’s instruction.

“And here come the fireworks. Hold this,” Natasha passed you her drink. “I need to move the quinjet before that goes up in flames too.”

You had questions but she left your side before you could voice them. The fridge door closed and Thor walked over with a tub of yogurt in his hands.

“I never understand you mortals. You can court chaos and yet create such beautiful ‘sky fire’.” He said bumping your shoulder. “A party this evening is exciting, is it not?”

“It would be if he hadn’t sprung this out of nowhere.”

Thor looked away from the workers and frowned at you. “Nowhere? Did you not receive the message two days ago on the small voicebox?” The God of Thunder recognised your blank expression and explained himself. “The phone?”

You reached into your back pocket and pulled out your handheld device. Tapping a few button, you realised that the battery had fallen flat. “Crap. It must have run out while I was away.” You realised.

Thor leaned over and touched the screen, sending a small electric current into the device and bringing it back to life. As the screen loaded, you gave a grateful sigh. “You’re like a walking source of energy.”

There were several pings of missed texts and calls that floated to the top of the screen.

29 December 10:50am - 1 missed call from Hawkeye.

29 December 10:56am - (Hawkeye) Text over your room’s access code. I need to hide the Asgardian mead.

29 December 1:21pm - 1 missed call from Thaddeus Ross.

29 December 2:56pm - (Hawkeye) Don’t ignore me.

29 December 2:58pm - (Hawkeye) Your phone’s dead, isn’t it?

30 December 7:22am - 1 missed call from Pepper P.

30 December 10:53am - (Steve) I’ve moved your mission debrief to after the party. Hope you’re keeping safe.

30 December 12:36pm - 2 missed calls from The Raft.

Dismissing them for now, you tapped a few icons to replay the voicemail left by Tony.

“Avengers - it’s time to celebrate the end of the year with flair. I’m hosting a New Years Eve party in two nights at the tower. Food, friends and fireworks. Invitations are going out right now so come dressed to dazzle.”

“What do you suppose he means by ‘dress to dazzle’? Perhaps, Jane will know. I’ve invited her to join us if she’s not too busy. Barton mentioned a tradition of kissing someone at midnight. Hopefully Jane finds me worthy.” Thor hoped.

You groaned internally. The dreaded pressure of kissing someone at midnight was something you never enjoyed. It felt too dramatic for your taste.

“Will you be bringing someone?” The God of Thunder wondered.

Patting his arm, you stepped away. “I’m going for a walk so less people ask me that question.”

Leaving him to watch the workers and enjoy his breakfast, you crossed the room to the elevator. You descended to the lobby where more people wandered about. While walking, you hadn’t noticed the foot of a marble statute poking out of place and accidentally kicked it.

Caught off guard, you cursed while hopping to nurse the temporary pain. Turning around, you found yourself nose-to-box when a hand grabbed yours, pulling you to the side.

“Whoa, easy there.” Steve laughed as he held your arm so you wouldn’t hit the stack of boxes.

“Sorry, I was just - why did we take the statue down?” You asked, looking back at the sculpture.

“Tony wants there to be more space for the crowd to mingle.” Steve replied.

“This party is just getting more elaborate by the second.” You sighed. “If I had known it was tonight, I might have stayed in Wakanda for a few more days.”

“Come on, you don’t mean that.”

You didn’t really wish to be away from home on New Years if you could help it.

“No, I don’t.” Placing your hands on your hips, you exhaled a thought. “I had hoped today would be a day of rest. Not party prepping.”

“Actually speaking of the party, if you’re not taking any-”

“Here he is! Just the man I was after.” Tony called out as he appeared from behind the super soldier having taken the stairs. He approached and patted Steve’s shoulder. “I need your help upstairs.” Tony then looked at you.

“And I need your help with the last remaining invitations. FRIDAY hit a small glitch during the send so I’ve texted you the names that were missed.”

Steve glanced at his friend. “Sure thing Tony but I was just-”

“You’ll have plenty of time later. Come on, Cap.”

With Steve on a task with Tony, you looked at your phone screen to read the message he left on your phone.

Stephen Strange, Wong, Peter and May, Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes.

The latter two were easy to reach since you were always in touch. You could extend their invites on your way to Bleeker Street.

Wrapping up for the cold weather outside, you caught a cab to the Sanctum Sanctorum. As you were driven, you tried to give Sam a call but reached his voicemail.

“Hi, this is Sam Wilson. I’m not available but leave a message…”

“What are you doing?”

“Recording an outgoing voicemail so people leave a message when I can’t take their call.”

“That’s weird.”

The banter between Sam and Bucky was so enjoyable that you almost forgot to hang up when the tone beeped. You’d try again a little later in the day.

With the traffic being a little heavier, your ride was slow so you went through a few missed calls and called back the time sensitive ones. After the third, you slipped your phone back into your pocket when you noticed that the cab had slowed to a stop. Paying the driver, you stepped out and pulled your coat a little tighter before walking up the stairs.

Knocking twice, you paused on the third when you heard a crash behind the door. Then the wooden panel creaked open and you were pulled inside and landed on a platform that wasn’t part of the usual foyer.

“Y/n! It’s so nice you see you.” Wong welcomed from somewhere above where he stood on a large rock as he wrangled against a large beast.

You waved at him when suddenly the ground you were standing on trembled. At the end of it was a second beast set on fire.

What the hell had you walked into?

It charged towards you until a magical leash fastened around its neck and pulled it away before you were swallowed. Following the thread, you saw the man you were after.

“Is now a bad time?” You called out.

Stephen rolled his eyes. “Does anything about this seem normal to you?”

Looking around, it was hard to answer because the last few times you visited, there was another perilous disaster occurring within the walls.

“Actually, this is a bit of a habit.” You admitted. Stephen sighed and accepted the reply. “I came to invite you to the New Years Eve party tonight. At the tower, if you survive this.”

Stephen grappled with the reigns of his creature as it grew in strength. Wong leapt into the air, opened a portal beneath the feet of his own beast and let it fall through with a growl. He then made his way over to you.

“What time is the party?” He asked.

Stephen groaned. You ignored the sorcerer and addressed his friend. “At seven.”

Wong nodded, happy with the invitation. “I’ll be there.”

You looked up at Stephen. “And you?”

Doctor Strange sighed and cast a hand in your direction with a circling motion. “I think you still have a few more guests to invite.”

That’s when you realised that there was no floor beneath your feet and you fell through a hole only to land on a soft couch.

“Oh my god!” Aunt May cried out as a bowl of popcorn flew into the air.

Peter jumped out from the kitchen brandishing wooden spoons poised for attack. “What? What?”

You cleared out the stray kernels from your hair. “I really hate it when he does that. Oh, hi you two!”

Aunt May calmed her erratic heart and lowered the volume on the television. “Y/n, as much as I enjoy having you over, why don’t you try the door next time?”

You apologised for the suddenness and the mess as you gathered the bowl. Peter set the spoons down and walked over.

“Is something wrong? Does Mr Stark need my help?” He wondered quickly filled with so much hope.

Chuckling, you helped clean up the ruined movie snack from the floor. “Not quite. Actually we’re having a party at the tower tonight and would love for you both to be there if you’re free.”

“A party? With the Avengers?” Peter’s eyes widened, mouth grinning while trying to contain his excitement.

May cleared her throat. “Will Happy be there?”

Her interest in the body guard had not gone unnoticed particularly since Happy always asked you about her. “Oh he’ll be there.” You smirked.

May looked at Peter and then pretended that she wasn’t too excited. “We’ll let you know.”

Thanking them both and apologising once more for the earlier incident, you left their apartment.

Four down, two to go you thought to yourself. There was a buzz from your pocket so you fished out your phone. There was a text message from Clint. Opening it, you read:

Emergency. Pick up blueberries.

Frowning, you texted back while audibly speaking the message. “What happened to the batch I bought?”

Three dots graced the screen and then…

I ate them.

You glanced at the time and knew that the ingredients at the cocktail bar hadn’t been prepared yet. Tony always requested the caterers to do it an hour or so before the event. Luckily there was a good market close to the tower from which you could purchase the fresh produce.

As you walked to the subway and rounded a corner, you managed to get Sam on the line. It would be a great way to let him know of the event. The call was picked up with a familiar bright voice.

“Well if it isn’t my favourite Avenger.” Sam answered.

“Don’t let Cap hear you say that.” You laughed with a small head shake. “Are you home?”

“No, actually I’m visiting a family friend. What’s up?”

“That’s okay. I called for two reasons. Firstly, I found some intel on Zemo’s prison cell. Had to check in a few favours there. And second-”

“There’s a party happening at the Tower?” Sam guessed.

How did he know that? “Was it Steve?”

“You know I don’t reveal my sources.” He teased. “But to ease your mind, I’ll be there.”

“Could you try and get Bucky to come as well? I know Steve would appreciate having you both.”

Sam laughed. “That’s the third time you mentioned Mr Blue Eyes in this conversation and it’s not even 2’o clock. Why you’re not dating the guy is a mystery to me.”

You had made it down to the platform as a train pulled up. “Okay, I won’t mention him again.”

Sam loved to poke at you for fun and it was all done from a place of love. You caught up with the man for a little while longer until your stop and you bid him and the subway adieu. It was a short walk to the market where you collected enough blueberries to cover Clint’s thievery before anyone found out.

When you returned to the tower, you delivered the berries to the bar and let Clint know that the crisis was averted. The tower was getting busier and so you decided to head up to your room to get dressed.

Like any Tony Stark party, he delivered. It was magnificent with lots of familiar and new faces gracing the halls and levels of Avengers Tower. Everyone was dressed up and looked incredible. You caught a glimpse of Peter Parker in the crowd who was taking everything in. Wong managed to seek you out for a short conversation and gave you an apology on Stephen’s behalf for not making it.

After a round through the crowd, you settled at the bar to enjoy a drink with Pepper, Happy and Bruce. Steve was on his way to get some food when he heard your voice.

“I think the kissing tradition on New Years Eve is cute.” Bruce commented.

Happy shrugged. “I don’t know, I think it depends on the person you’re with.”

You set your glass down and pat Happy on the shoulder. “This. See, I think you should only kiss someone on New Years Eve if you’re in love with them or planning to pursue a relationship. What’s the point of kissing if it’s just for fun?”

Pepper laughed as she took a sip. “Don’t knock it until you try it Y/n. There are heaps of strangers here. Why don’t we set you up with one?”

Steve’s stomach flipped at the thought and he entered the conversation circle. “How is everyone doing over here?”

He leaned towards you to pull over a glass and pour himself a drink. You smiled as the rest of the group gave their replies and caught him up to speed on their last topic.

“What do you think Cap?” Happy asked.

“To kiss or not to kiss?” Bruce chimed in with a chuckle.

Steve paused for a few seconds as he thought up a response. “I like romance. I’d imagine each kiss to be special and tell a story.” Steve’s eyes landed on you. “Actually that’s why I wanted to speak to you. I-”

Suddenly, Tony interrupted the group with his presence and a holopad that was flashing red. “Oh boy, we have a major problem.” He said and showed them a newspaper article. “Vibranium was stolen in transit to Wakanda. We need a lock on their trail before it runs cold. Pun intended since the route was in Iceland.”

Happy sighed. “Wow, they picked a hell of a time to strike so close to midnight.”

Steve jumped into Captain America mode almost immediately, shoulders straightened and brow-furrowed. “I can be ready and take the quinjet in ten.”

Bruce set his glass down. “Want me to come with you?”

“Thanks Bruce. But if it’s a simple tailing job, I’ve got it covered. Besides, you should enjoy the night, you’ve earned it.”

Suddenly, the crowd began making their way to the terrace, Thor amidst them when he spotted his friends and called out from the sea of heads.

“Come, my friends. We are about to watch the sky fire!”

Tony unbuttoned his suit jacket with a flare, “It’s my time to shine.” He walked over to Pepper and stretched out his arm for her to take before striding out onto the balcony. Bruce found Natasha and followed her out while Happy caught a glimpse of Peter’s aunt in the crowd and also head in that direction.

You looked at Steve and he seemed a little disheartened. “I’ve been trying to catch you all day and now-”

You placed a hand over his arm and gave a kind rub. “Hey, it’s okay. If it’s not important, it can wait until you’re back. I’ll still be here.” Hearing your name being called outside, you stepped away from the man. “I should go. Can’t miss Tony’s wondrous display.”

Leaving Steve behind for his mission, you joined the Asgardian in the middle of the crowd. He was telling stories about how he and Loki would steal fireworks from each festival and light them up on the bifrost for the people of the lower towns. “...I think our Father knew.”

In the next few minutes, Jane Foster appeared at Thor’s side and exchanged pleasantries until the crowd began to hush and stir as they looked to the sky. Tony’s drones took to the sky in marvellous fashion before they shaped themselves into the countdown numbers.

…5, 4, 3, 2, 1!

The crowd cheered, some even coming from the streets as they watched the pyrotechnics come to life. As fireworks rose and lit up the sky, you felt a kind of magical buzz, lucky to be where you stood.

It was a beautiful sight and you looked at the surrounding crowd. Lips were locking all around and you felt your stomach twist as the feeling of being alone began to settle. It normally never bothered you but this environment felt different. While everyone was distracted, you snaked between the bodies to return inside.

As you crossed the seating arrangement with every intention to call it a night, you barrelled into a very combat-suited Steve. Shouldn’t he be halfway across the sea?

“What are you still doing here? I thought you left for Iceland.”

Steve’s eyes were fixed on you, the gentle twinkle of fireworks reflecting in his blue irises. It was like he was staring into the heart of a jewelled cave - completely mesmerised.

“It’s important.” He said closing the space between you. A hand setting against your waist, Steve leaned forward. His lips ghosting against yours as your eyes closed. “You’re important.”

It was though fireworks were being set off in your body when he pressed his lips against yours. All you could feel was magic, heat, love and you just wanted to melt against him. His warmth, his touch, if you were in a private space you were sure things would have heated up far quickly. Little did you know, Steve was feeling the exact same.

Pulling away reluctantly, Steve rest his head against yours and smiled. “A part of me wishes that I could stay.”

Closing your eyes, you took in a deep breath. “Me too.”

The door from the terrace opened. Tony had walked in to refill his glass and wandered about the bar for a suitable drink when he overheard. The rest of the team also came inside for a break from the party.

“Then why don’t you just go with him?” Tony suggested. “There’s no rule saying that you can’t.”

It was such a simple resolve but you remembered that Steve had turned down Bruce’s offer. You looked at the captain silently asking if he’d like the company.

He smiled. “It would be an honour.”

Tony stood to the side with a wine bottle in his hand as he poured another drink for himself and Pepper, quietly watching you and Steve walk away hand-in-hand towards the hanger bay. Clint grabbed himself some water and took a seat on a high chair.

“Don’t you think they’ll need some back up if vibranium is in play?” He wondered.

Tony nodded, closing the bottle and sipping his drink. “Of course, if the mission was real.”

Thor threw back the last of his Asgardian mead and set his cup on the table (he was learning that the Asgardian custom to break the instrument was frowned upon). “You mean to say that you fabricated a story to…”

“To stop our two closest friends from more pining? You bet I did. God it was giving me whiplash.” Tony confessed. Then he pointed to each member present. “And now you know the truth, you’re all accomplices to the crime.”

Masterlist here

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offender42085 · 8 months

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Post 1037

After the Judge commented that she would make sure that the inmate would never see the light of day again, the inmate whose hands were shackled responded; “That’s great,” and gave the Judge a thumbs-up.

Talen Clark Barton, California inmate AX9898, born 1996, incarceration intake October 2015 at age 19, sentenced to 71 years to life, scheduled for parole consideration July 2039

Murder, False imprisonment

In October 2015, a Laytonville California teen described by a Mendocino County detective as “pure evil” following a brutal, hate-fueled rampage in which he stabbed to death two members of the family he was living with and nearly killed two others was sentenced Tuesday to 71 years to life in prison.

The crimes committed by Talen Barton were so heinous that Mendocino County Superior Court Judge Ann Moorman said she would be writing a letter to the state corrections department so she can comment at his parole hearing, should he ever be granted one decades from now.

“I’ll see to it you never see the light of day,” Moorman told Barton.

“That’s great,” said Barton, who was shackled but still able to give the judge a thumbs-up.

Barton has indicated on multiple occasions that he believes he deserves to be punished for what he did the night of July 19, 2015. But he has remained largely emotionless in court and during interviews with sheriff’s detectives and psychologists, according to a comprehensive probation report filed with the court.

Barton in September 2015 pleaded guilty to charges that include two counts of murder and two of attempted murder. He also pleaded guilty to imprisoning two teen girls in the Laytonville home after the attacks and preventing them from phoning 911 by cutting the phone lines, according to the probation report. He later used a cellphone to call 911 himself.

Barton smoked marijuana and offered the imprisoned girls cookies while he waited for deputies to arrive, according to the probation report. He also asked the surviving victims how it felt to die as they struggled to live, the probation report stated.

The plea agreement allowed Barton, who has told sheriff’s investigators and psychologists that he was suicidal the night of the stabbings but afraid of death, to avoid facing a potential death sentence.

He told a psychologist he wanted to kill people “to know what it was like to die,” according to the probation report.

The crimes were so atrocious, and Barton was so “self-satisfied” and unemotional, that one of the detectives interviewing him later wrote he felt he was encountering “pure evil” and hoped to never see Barton released from prison, according to the probation report.

“He is an absolute monster,” Detective Clint Wyant said in his investigative summary.

Psychological exams found that Barton suffered from depression and post-traumatic stress disorder from his early years living with drug-addicted parents and step-parents. Mental health examiners suspect he was exposed to methamphetamine while in his mother’s womb. Barton also alleged he was once sexually abused by one of his mother’s friends.

Barton frequently expressed self-loathing to psychiatric evaluators and sheriff’s investigators, according to the probation report. Scars on his forearms showed that he had burned himself with his marijuana joints. He said he’d initially planned to kill himself and take others with him because he believed in reincarnation and believed they’d all be together again, the probation report states.

But, despite his many emotional problems, psychiatric evaluations found Barton was not psychotic when he attacked his victims.

#inmate

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fideidefenswhore · 7 months

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♕ #AnneBoleynWeek by @anne-the-quene, Day 3 | Favourite Historical Fact(s) about Anne Boleyn ♕

♕ Anne was eager for her daughter, Princess Elizabeth, to learn Latin, Hebrew, Greek, Italian, Spanish, and French in her upcoming education. ♕

♕ "Anne was known as a protector of Tyndale's readers."

♕ "For her chaplains, ‘lanterns and light of my court’, she chose men won to reform: Matthew Parker, Robert Singleton, William Latimer, Nicholas Shaxton and others."

♕ The French ambassador Du Bellay reported that "none of the other [councillors] have any credit at all [with Henry VIII] unless it pleased the Young Lady to lend them some."

♕ She was a patron of Hans Holbein.

♕ She secured the release of, and later patronized, the poet and reformer Nicholas Bourbon as tutor for Henry Carey, Henry Norris (the Younger), Henry Dudley, and one of the sons of Nicholas Harvey.

♕ "Her London silkwomen, Anne Vaughan and Joan Wilkinson, were fervent gospellers."

♕ "The Act attainting Elizabeth Barton and her supporters of high treason pardoned all those not specifically named in the statute; the King made the decision at ‘the humble suit and contemplation of his most entire and well-beloved wife Queen Anne.’"

♕ "Richard Hilles lamented her loss in 1541 as one of the 'sincere ministers of the word’ who had been taken away.”

♕ "True to Christian humanism, she backed education, acting as a generous patron to students and giving annual subvention to Cambridge and Oxford."

♕ Anne was friends with Princess Renee of France in her youth.

♕ "Of ten bishops appointed during her time as Queen, seven were her own evangelical clients." ♕

#anneboleynweek #i am sooo late #anne boleyn #anneboleynedit #i will link to the rest of these later...#i wanted to include one about style/fashion and like quotes by nicholas bourbon but realized the latter was more applicable to the quote da #also this just got . way too long #so ps also that her style was unmatched

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hollybee8917 · 1 month

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In the Court of the Shield and Star

Chapter 1- The Angel and the King

Plot: King Steve Rogers meets Eliza Frye who is a total mystery to him. They start to fall in love, but things are never that simple.

Characters: Steve Rogers, Eliza Frye (OFC), Tony Stark, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff, Peggy Carter, Bucky Barnes, Owen Tyre (OC), Sam Wilson, Pietro Maximoff, Wanda Maximoff, Stephen Strange

Warnings in this chapter: Assault, harassment, physical violence, animal attack

Howling. Endless howling. Eliza looked up from the parchment on which she was drawing and she moved to the window. A dim light was low over the field. As she looked out, she saw a figure. He was waving a sword but his movements were jerky. Around him, a pack of wolves circled, growling, lunging, snapping at him.

Fear filled her. The man was going to die if she didn’t help. Quickly, she grabbed her bow and her loaded quiver before running out the door. She reached a slight ridge behind the trapped man. From where she was positioned, she could see the man was injured.

Eliza raised her bow and nocked an arrow. Pulling the string back, she steadied her draw then released. The arrow whistled through the air and struck a wolf. It went down with a whimper. Instantly, Eliza repeated her motions. Nock, draw, release. Nock, draw, release. The arrows shrilled through the air hitting their marks. Soon, only three wolves were left but now they were focused on her.

The young woman slid down the ridge as the howling wolves rushed toward her. At the bottom of the ridge, she picked up her sword and prepared herself with a flame. The scarred alpha made his way over the ridge and down toward her before stopping at the sight of the woman holding shimmering steel and a large torch. It paced back and forth before letting out a long howl and dashing back the way it had come with the other two right behind.

Eliza let loose a sigh and lowered her sword and sheathed it. Then she remembered. The injured man! She took off in the direction she had last seen him. Waving the torch, she spotted him. I have to get him to safety.

King Steve Rogers groaned as he rolled onto his back. He opened his eyes to find himself in a strange bed. A window sat on his left and to his right was a wooden door. He threw back the blankets and swung his feet to the floor. The man looked down at his unclad torso wrapped in a white bandage. Who did this? Where am I?

Before he could muse any farther, the door opened to reveal a beautiful young woman. She smiled gently at him, “Oh, wonderful, you’ve woken. I was fearful that you would not. You gave me quite the fright last night. How do you feel?”

The blonde man was stunned to silence at her simple beauty so she tilted her head, “Have you a tongue, good sir?”

This simple remark somewhat amused Steve and he let out a low yet hearty laugh, “Indeed I have a tongue, kind maiden. I am most confused, however, as to my whereabouts and the situation that has led to this remarkable hospitality.”

She poured a small pitcher of water into the wash basin on the table by the door, “You were attacked by a pack of wolves. You needed aid so I hurried to your side with bow and quiver in hand.”

Steve looked down at his semi-clothed form, “You saved me.”

“I did.”

He let his eyes drift up to hers, “And you have brought me here alone?”

The girl wrung out the rag she had soaked in the bowl of water and approached Steve with it, “I did. You were in dire need and I was always taught to help those in need. Lift your chin. There was some dirt I could not remove last night.”

Steve did as he was told then he glanced around the room, “Where are my tunic and shirt? Also, I had a satchel slung over me. Where has it gone? Have you looked inside it?”

She smiled gently, “I washed them as best I could and hung them to dry. Once they had dried, I folded them and put them here on the chair. The satchel I have placed on the chair as well. I did not search your belongings. I will leave you to dress. Should you need any help, please call for me.”

Confusion crossed the man’s face, “Thank you for your aid and the respect you have shown by not searching my things while I was incapacitated. But how should I call for you if I do not know your name, fair one.”

Once more she smiled at him as she turned away, “Eliza Frye.”

Then she was gone and Steve was left alone.

Eliza was seated at her table when the stranger exited the bedroom. Steve noticed that she did not take note of him and cleared his throat causing her to shift her gaze to him, “Oh, my apologies. Would you like some food to eat, good sir?”

He nodded, “Yes, what have you to offer?”

She rose from her chair and made her way into her larder, “I have bread, cheese and eggs. I also have salted pork and cured fish. What takes your fancy?”

The king responded, “I will have the bread and cheese for now. I do not wish to eat all you have.”

Eliza tucked hair behind her ear as she stepped out of the larder with the food he requested, “You do no such thing, kind sir. Please, tell me should you desire more.”

A loud rapping came from her door and Eliza hurried away to answer it. She gulped as the rapping rattled the door. Cautiously sliding it open, she felt herself forced from the home and she hit her knees as two men shoved her down. Eliza knew why the men were there.

The two men were soldiers from a nearby fort. They plagued the little village but targeted Eliza specifically due to her living alone. The taller of the two was a soldier named Rhys Argent. He was cruel and enjoyed the torment of others. Beside him, the other solder, who was named Wendell Colby, sneered at her, “Where’s the payment you promised us?”

Eliza shivered, “I-I-I don’t have any money.”

“I-I-I. Come now. You can do better than that,” Rhys Argent mocked her. Then his tone turned serious, “Do you not recall what we said would happen if you did not pay us?”

She was too frightened to speak and could only keep her eyes forward. Rhys raised his hand then brought it down against the side of her head her cheek causing Eliza to fall over. Wendell Colby let out a low laugh, “Why don’t we start with your precious horse, huh? You want us to take it?”

Eliza said nothing which angered Wendell and Rhys more. As Rhys brought his foot up and connected it to Eliza’s side, Wendell’s eyes grew wide and he fell into a kneel. Rhys didn’t notice and continued his attack on Eliza.

“Kneel,” Wendell hissed.

Rhys did not hear and instead continued his assault on Eliza.

“KNEEL!” A voice boomed.

In one fluid motion, Rhys looked up, his eyes widened in fear and he fell to one knee. Eliza slowly rose up onto her knees then turned. Shock filled her soul. In the doorway stood Steve but not as she had seen him before. A carefully crafted elaborate crown with sapphires and black diamonds was placed upon his head. His tunic and shirt were carefully tucked in but the sleeves flowed freely without restraint. A cloak was clasped around his neck. He looked kingly.

Rhys spoke, “Your majesty! Forgive us!”

Steve hushed him with a glare. He then reached down and helped Eliza to her feet, “Are you badly injured?”

She kept her head down and shook it. Tenderly, Steve used a finger to lift her chin, “Do not be afraid. Let me show you the same kindness you have shown me. Return to your chair and rest. I shall be in once I have dealt with these two.”

Eliza did not cast a glance to the soldiers but quietly smiled at Steve, “Thank you, your majesty.”

With this she reentered her cottage.

Steve turned to the two men and spoke with authority, “Why did you attack an innocent villager? Is your command not to serve and protect my people? Are you not part of your King’s army, sworn to protect the crown and those living under it? What are your names, soldiers?”

The two men stuttered but have no coherent response. “ANSWER YOUR KING!,” Steve roared.

Wendell was the first respond though he kept his head low, “I am Wendell Colby, your majesty. My companion is Rhys Argent. We are soldiers stationed at Whitich Keep.”

Steve hummed, “Whitich Keep. I know it well. Return there and inform your commander that I shall be arriving shortly. I will deal with you at the fort.”

“Yes, majesty.” Wendell replied but neither man moved.

“Now!,” barked King Steve, “And make haste.”

The men fled back to their horses and were swiftly gone fearing any further wrath from the king.

Eliza was seated in her chair, holding a compress to her side when he returned. She was instantly on her knees without a sound. Once more, he lifted her up, “Please do not do that. Not on my account. Please sit.”

She did as he commanded and he picked up his satchel, “I have business to attend at Whitich Keep but I shall return. Before I go, have you a horse I may borrow? I am afraid mine fled in encounter yesterday eve.”

Eliza replied, “I have a mare who is broken and a stallion I have been breaking to ride. I think he is ready and would be more suited for your majesty.”

The king brushed a stray hair from the girl’s face, “You intrigue me, Eliza Frye, and I would like to call on you once more.”

Eliza lost her nerve to speak and Steve smirked, “Have you a tongue, fair one?”

She looked at him with a smile and a laugh, “Aye, I have a tongue, good sir and I use it well.”

They both laughed and King Steve Rogers motioned to the door, “Perhaps you might show me the steed I am to ride so I may hurry away and then back to you?”

She led him out to the paddock and called over the brown Stallion with a low whistle. It trotted over and she watched as Steve, the king, tacked it up. The king turned with a slight bow then swung himself upon the stallion, “Until we meet again.”

Eliza curtseyed to him then watched as he rode away.

Steve entered the village of Gramsby and observed the state of it. The town’s cobbled streets were well-kept and the homes were in perfect condition but something was missing. Slowly, Steve pulled the horse to the side of the street and dismounted the horse he had borrowed from Eliza Frye. Tying the horse to the hitching post, the king made his way to the pub. He was careful to not raise an alarm.

However, when the king reached for the door, he found it shored up from the inside. He heard hushed whispers from the inside the pub and the realization hit him hard. Where are all the people?

The king knocked on the door, “Good gentleman, I have travelled long and wish only for a drink from your establishment. Perhaps I may enter?”

A voice called from inside, “We have very little money or grog.”

The sky seemed to mirror King Steve’s mood as he rode through the gate of Whitich Keep. Above his head, storm clouds had gathered and lightening threatened to crack the sky. A tall man dressed with many medals approached as the blonde king dismounted his horse. With a great swoop, he fell to one knee, “Majesty, we are greatly honored by your presence. How may I be of service to you?”

“Save your pleasantries, General. I did not come here to bandy words. Bring to me the soldiers who are stationed here.”

“I take you would like to deal with Rhys Argent and Wendell Colby. I have placed them in the stockade. What other punishment-“

“SILENCE!” Steve bellowed as the thunder echoed in the sky, “Bring to me ALL of the soldiers stationed here.”

Fearful of furthering the king’s wrath, General Edryd Cadigan motioned for the gathering of his men. The rain began to fall as a mustering horn was sounded. Quickly, the soldiers lined up and one by one fell to one knee. The General spoke to the King, “Majesty, may I-“

Steve cut him off, “Silence, General Cadigan. Tis my turn to speak. Now, who would like to inform me of the incidents in the town of Gramsby?”

Not a single soldier spoke. Instead, they looked among themselves. The king turned toward the captain, “Bring me Rhys Argent and Wendell Colby.”

The captain nodded and walked to the stockade. Again, the king addressed the line of men, “I will only ask you once more. Why have you been tormenting the people of Grimsby?”

A young man stepped forward, “Majesty, if I may speak?”

Steve sized the lad up, “What is your name, son?”

“Aelric Hylderley,” the young man responded, “your majesty.”

Steve approached him, “What do you have to say for these men, Aelric?”

The young soldier gulped, “I am afraid that the people of Grimsby have been targeted by many of the men. The general has done little to curtail the actions of the men in this fort. In fact, he has encouraged it. Those who protested the actions of their fellow soldiers were disciplined.”

Steve bristled, “Where was the captain?”

“Spending most of his time in the stockade for protesting, your majesty.”

The king turned and looked to the captain, “Dismiss your men. I will deal with them one by one. Young Hylderley, what rank are you in this company?”

Aelric shook slightly, “I am a mere soldier, Majesty.”

Steve turned and faced his general, “You will be henceforth stripped of your rank and demoted to Lieutenant in my army. Is that understood?”

Cadigan began to cower, “Yes, Majesty. It’s understood.”

He stepped back, “Captain, take the General into arms and hold him until a new leader arrives at the fort. I have already sent back to the capital for one.”

Another soldier stepped forward, “Yes, your majesty.”

“Now, where are the traitors?”

The captain motioned to the men in chains, “Here, Majesty.”

“Hang them and any other soldiers guilty of harming my people.”

Then Steve turned and walked back to his horse, ignoring the cries of the two men behind him pleading for mercy.

Eliza was sitting alone in the cottage, reading a book, when there came a knock at the door. She rose and made her way over. Timidly, she opened the door to find the King standing before her. Bowing low, she murmured, “Majesty.”

Steve placed his hands at her elbows and matched her tone, “Please, look at me and not my boots.”

Eliza raised her chin and met his gaze, “What may I aid you with, Majesty?”

The king tilted his head, “You are a fascinating creature, Eliza Frye, and I would like to call on you again.”

She shook her head, “It would be ill-advised to do so, your Majesty. I am a commoner and as such would not be worthy of your time. You would be more suited to seek the company of a lady of the court.”

“I believe that as king, that should be my determination, not anyone else’s. I have set my eyes on you and you alone. Would you not prefer my company?”

“I would, Majesty, but I don’t know how the people would take it. I am not like the women of your court least of all, Duchess Margaret whom I hear is a great beauty.”

Steve shook his head, “Nay, you are far more lovely, compassionate and courageous. Please allow me to call on you once more.”

“Very well, my king.”

He bowed to her and turned, “I will have your horse returned to you in haste upon my arrival back at the capital.”

“Keep him. I have no need for another.” Steve smiled the mounted the horse, waved goodbye and spurred the horse toward home.

#steve rogers #original character #original female character #tony stark #wanda maximoff #bucky barnes #peggy carter #original male character #clint barton #natasha romanoff #captain america #sam wilson #pietro maximoff #king!Steve Rogers #King!Tony Stark #Knight!Bucky #steve rogers x oc

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if-you-fan-a-fire · 7 months

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"COURT DISMISSES TWO CHARGES BUT THIRD IS UPHELD," Hamilton Spectator. October 7, 1943. Page 7. ---- George Belasko Sentenced to Three Months in Jail ---- Had Fatal Accident While His License Was Suspended ---- George Belasko, 40, of 470 MacNab street north, was acquitted by Magistrate James MacKay in magistrate's court this morning on two charges, reckless and careless driving. On a third count, that of driving a car while his license was suspended, he will serve three months in jail, pay a fine of $25 and court costs of $12, or in default of payment spend an additional 21 days in jail. The car which he was driving will be impounded for three months.

The case arose out of an accident on Merrick street in front of Philpott tabernacle, on the morning of September 24, when William Stewart, 55, Canadian Express Co. employee, met his death. Mr. Stewart, who had stopped his truck, in front of the side entrance of the tabernacle on Merrick street and was about to deliver some parcels to Rev. Peter Hoogendam, the minister, who stood in the doorway, was crushed into the back of his truck by Belasko's car, which approached from the west on Merrick street. He died shortly after being rushed to hospital

Minister Testifies Rev. Mr. Hoogendam, an eyewitness to the happening, in testifying said that he thought Belasko was trying to park his car behind the truck, but instead the car had suddenly shot forward, knocking the deceased down. Inspector Andy Kay and P.C. William Sanderson in giving evidence revealed that the brakes of Belasko's car were worn down to the rivets they were so bad. Belasko when called to the stand told the court that he had been about to stop his car on Merrick street behind the truck. when his foot accidentally slipped from the brake to the accelerator.

Harvey McCulloch, crown attorney, pointed out that as the Ontario Department of Highways had suspended Belasko's license to drive a car in June of 1942 because of a conviction under the Traffic Act and would only permit him to drive again if he had accident insurance, and no company would insure him, the accused had no right whatever to be in charge of a car.

Joseph Sullivan was defence counsel.

#hamilton #police court #traffic act #reckless driving #driving without a license #motor vehicle regulations #motor vehicle accident #hitting a pedestrian #sentenced to prison #barton jail #suspended license #canada during world war 2 #crime and punishment in canada #history of crime and punishment in canada

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collapsedsquid · 5 months

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The President of the Caribbean Court of Justice (CCJ), the Honorable Mr. Justice Adrian Saunders, delivered the opinion of the court regarding the no-confidence vote held in the Guyanese Parliament on December 21, 2018, which the court held to be valid under the Constitution of Guyana. The Court’s decision upholds the decision of the Speaker of the National Assembly, Dr. Barton Scotland that the motion was carried by a majority of 33 votes. The contention between the parties was whether 33 or 34 votes constituted a majority. The Attorney General, Mr. Basil Williams, contended that the formula for achieving a majority, as like in other Parliamentary systems with an odd number of representatives, that the majority constitutes one half of the members plus one, which would hold that 34 votes are required to form a majority.

Didn't know there was an EJC-style thing for Caribbean nations that may may not have the power to issue binding constitutional rulings for members

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shy-violet-soul · 2 years

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Heroes Make Me Tired

Summary: I’m just trying to do my job - keep my team safe, keep my bosses out of court…and myself out of the looney bin. One of those is too tall an order.

Characters: a very, very tired HR person (female), and assorted Avengers. Mentions of other fandoms (gold star to those that find them!)

Warning: Avenger shenanigans, and possible bad language words.

Word Count: 2,700-ish

A/N: This piece of ridiculousness is 100% inspired by and written for @thesassywallflower. As someone who’s worked in HR for over 20 years, and has dealt with more than my share of ridiculousness, I can personally attest to the fact that the struggle is REAL.

++++++

It’s only 7:45am, and I can already feel my blood pressure rising.

I cricked my neck to keep my phone against my ear as I juggled my laptop bag, security access card, and glasses. Finally swiping the card against the access plate, I jammed my elbow against my floor button and sagged against the wall as my coworker screeched out the latest calamity.

“...and now they want us to pay for a new set of tires. An entire set - four freaking tires - AGAIN!”

“No. Absolutely not. I don’t care what monster did it this time. You go back and tell them that the benefits handbook clearly states that damages to personal items in the course of performing your job duties are only eligible to be reimbursed up to an annual maximum of $1,000.00. Total. Not each incident. TOTAL. They used all of that up with that thing, that monster in Oregon? With the pennies?”

Julia’s sigh groaned through my ear. “A Nachzehrer.”

I closed my eyes, dragging in a deep breath. “Whatever. You know what? I don’t even care. If they would have taken the stupid company car, just like everyone else, they wouldn’t have to stress so much about their precious Impala. Tell ‘em ‘no’.”

“Will do. You on your way upstairs to your 8:00am?”

“Yeah.”

I could feel Julia’s shudder from here. “I’ll be all ears when you get back. The meetings with that crew are always…entertaining.”

The elevator doors opened as I snorted my agreement. I paused to collect myself in the entryway, silencing my phone before tossing it in the bag and pushing my glasses up my nose.

Okay. You’ve got this. Don’t let them rattle you. Stay calm, stick to your talking points. Think positively - maybe they’ll be actually sorry this time.

So buoyed, I strode into the hall and towards the waiting conference room.

Avengers division employee Agent Natasha Romanov stood waiting for me, her face as fathomless as usual. The smile I offered her faltered as she extended a Starbucks drink in my direction. The smell of chai spices wafted upward. If this troublemaker came bearing gifts, that only meant one thing. This meeting was going to suck.

I grasped the venti-sized life saver, took an eye-watering gulp, and silently cursed the complete and utter imbecilic moron who proposed gathering all superhero, crime fighting, general population saving teams under one umbrella, which led to the creation of my department.

Human Resources to the Heroes.

It sounded so rewarding on LinkedIn. I couldn’t believe it when I made it through the first round of interviews. Meeting with the liaisons for the major players was nerve-wracking to say the least. Nick Fury is everything he’s rumored to be. Bruce Wayne is actually a little bit boring. And Mr. Singer is my favorite. Not that I would ever tell him. And truly, the job is rewarding…

But sweet baby Moses in a basket, some of these people have lost their damn minds.

I didn’t blink at the assembly before me as I entered the conference room, smiling professionally as I sat down. Sam Wilson practically radiated frustration where he sat with his forehead in his hand. I love Sam. He knows the way to an HR person’s heart - consistency and documentation. God bless the Army.

And then there were these three: Clint Barton. James B. Barnes. And Steven f-ing Grant Rogers.

Steri-strips ribbed across the bottom right of Barton’s forehead, I fervently hoped holding what’s left of his brains in. Barnes sat with his arms crossed over his chest, looking somewhere between nonchalant and put-upon. Rogers looked like he’d been caught stealing from the cookie jar.

“Good morning, gentlemen.” I dug out my legal pad, two pens, and a file folder.

“Good morning,” Sam and Steve replied. From Barnes, I got a chin lift. Everyone’s gaze turned to Barton. The famed archer sat reclined in his chair, head resting against the high back.

“Mr. Barton.” Nothing. My blood pressure ticked up a notch. “Mr. Barton,” with a little more volume, and a perfectly natural, not at all fake and threatening smile. Nothing.

Barnes banged on the table in front of the man, his metal fist clanging against the surface. Barton and I both jumped, my pen flipping out of my hand and flying across the table.

“Turn your fucking hearing aids on,” Barnes barked, pointing at his own ear when Clint turned confused eyes towards him. Sam sighed , eyes closing, as Steve slid my pen back to me.

“Sorry about that.”

I nodded my thanks, then folded my hands over my notepad once I had all their attention.

“So. Mr. Barton.” The file folder whispered as I flipped it open. “According to this incident report, it looks like you violated the same policies. Again.”

He scratched his head thoughtfully. “Which ones this time?”

My left eye wanted to twitch so bad. “Accessing secured areas without authorization, Employee right to privacy, and Sleeping while on duty.”

“Firefighters sleep on duty and no one gives them shit,” he groused. Twitch.

“Mr. Barton, we’ve discussed this. Firefighters are on duty overnight. This was at 1:13pm on Tuesday.”

“We do the life saving thing, too, you know!”

“It was your first day back from vacation!” I exclaimed, then sucked in a breath, trying to settle down. “All you were required to do that day was visit the armory and assess your equipment. And I’m not going to engage in a back and forth with you on that. Now - you’ve been counseled on the following occasions about your lack of compliance in these areas.” He glared at the list of dates I slid across the table to him. “With these additional incidents, we are officially placing you on a Performance Improvement Plan-”

“Hey! What about him?” he thumbed in the Sergeant’s direction. “He’s the one who shot me!”

This time, a muscle in my jaw tic’d.

“And I will address that with him in a moment. Right now, I’m going to ask you to review this document. Please sign and date it where indicated, and you can add any comments in the space below.” I chose to ignore the mutterings that followed as I fixed my gaze on Barnes.

“Sergeant.”

“Warden.” Twitch. Tic.

“You have also been counseled on the discharge of firearms on premises not in the course of your job duties.”

He rolled his eyes so hard, I’m sure he saw the inside of his skull.

“I thought it was an intruder!”

Reserve your chaos. Reserve your chaos, I chanted, pulling in another very deep breath. Calmly, I opened the folder again and withdrew a stapled packet.

“Sergeant Barnes. According to this file, your hearing is approximately 27% more acute than an average male of the same age, and your sense of smell is approximately 14% more sensitive-”

“Yeah, like a dog,” Sam murmured under his breath, earning a reproachful look from Steve.

“Is that from my medical file? What about the hippie law?”

I blinked at the righteous indignation on his face before the dots connected. “That’s HIPAA, not hippie. And as HR, I’m entitled to have access to the personal health information that demonstrates your ability to do your job.”

“Whatever. What’s your point?”

“My point, Sergeant, is that your physical abilities demonstrate that you did, in fact, know it was Mr. Barton. No intrusion alarms had been activated - I checked!” I cut off his budding interjection. “There’s no other way to interpret the evidence but that you knowingly chose to violate this policy and shoot him.”

“I don’t see what the big deal is. They were rubber bullets.” Barnes flopped back in his seat like a scolded kid, arms crossing sullenly over his chest. While from my seat, shock at the ridiculousness of his response nearly had my eyeballs falling from my skull.

“Seriously. You don’t see the big deal that you shot your coworker, injuring him, causing the ceiling tiles to break and him to fall through said ceiling, causing more injury?” I barely tracked Steve’s wince as my volume increased with each word, too focused on maintaining my slippery grip on sanity.

“Hey! At least they weren’t real bullets. He’s the one who told me to switch to the rubber ones.” With zero hesitation, he threw Steve under the bus. Friends till the end of the line, my ass.

Whatever Steve saw on my face…I literally watched him try to choose between defensiveness, betrayal, groveling, and ‘kill me now’, all at the same time.

“That might not be entirely accurate,” he stumbled out. Bucky turned on him like a top.

“‘Not entirely accurate’? You bought me the damn box! You even said, and I quote, ‘you don’t want to technically,” he air quoted, “violate the policy again ‘cuz that HR broad will be pissed and get all up my ass’!”

I heard a sound that I was fairly convinced was one of my blood vessels bursting. Or a molar cracking. But no, it was just Barton cackling as he scribbled his signature on his stupid PIP. Sam was trying to clandestinely scoot himself as far away from the potential strike zone as possible. Bucky looked like Steve was single handedly responsible for everything up to and including global warming. And the look on Steve’s face? Apparently he’d finally picked an emotion, settling on ‘whattya gonna do about it’ defensiveness.

My pen clicking sounded like the pin being pulled from a grenade. Fire in the hole, bastard.

“Tell me something, Captain. When the battlefield on which you’re engaging the enemy is rugged terrain, who has your six?” Any other normal person wouldn’t have caught the flick of his gaze towards the Sergeant. Good thing I’m not normal. What HR pro is? “Because you need a trained sniper watching your back. Correct?”

“Affirmative.”

“And when the unfriendlies are aerial, who’s your six then?”

“That would be me,” Sam carefully interjected. I didn’t so much as blink my straining eyelids as I stared down the Captain.

“Because having someone with countless hours of training and operational experience is critical. Isn’t that right? Captain?”

Barnes’ spidey-sense must have finally realized how perilously close to death they all were as he unfolded his arms and straightened in his seat. Rogers, apparently, was dumber than I gave him credit for.

“I think the answer’s pretty obvious. Even for a civilian.”

The sag of Barnes’ shoulders at the unmitigated, galling sass of his bestie had the weariness of decades behind it. The weariness of a bestie who routinely chose death as his destiny. But that’s fine.

Captain Rogers knew not with whom he fucked.

“And when you’re not on the battlefield, who has your six?”

Captain Sass-pants blinked at me.

“Ma’am?”

Slowly putting my pen down, I got to my feet with blessedly unusual grace. “Suppose that a recruit in the new agent training class alleged that you stole funds from the organization?”

If Barton snorted any harder, his sinuses were going to hit the table. Rogers looked horrified. Saint Sam smirked.

“I would NEVER-” came the barking indignation.

“I’m sure you wouldn’t. But let’s say she did. Who has your six? Or, let’s say Wilson here says he hasn’t been compensated at the appropriate overtime calculation for the last year? OR,” I cut off the Captain before he could think about interjecting, “what if the Rumlow family sued you, stating that former S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent Rumlow had been harassed during his tenure, leading to emotional distress that caused his change in philosophy. Who’s got your six, then?”

“What, harassed him into those ugly-ass scars?” Barton chortled out.

“Shut up, bird brain!” Barnes hissed at him, scooting both of their chairs away from Steve. I would have laughed, but I was too busy realizing that the whole ‘vision going up in a red haze’ thing was real.

“I have a Bachelor of Science in Psychology, a Master’s degree in Organizational Behavior. I have certifications in benefits administration, training and development, and change management. I’m required to do hundreds of hours of continuing education every year. And I have over fifteen years of experience in Human Resources. Technically speaking, I have more education and operational experience than Torres. A team member you trust your life with.”

Now, Steve was squirming. That’s right, squirm, you star-spangled ass! But I wasn’t done yet.

“Oh, and then there’s the matter of all the agencies. The Department of Labor, OSHA, the Wage & Hour Division, the Employee Benefits Security Administration, the Office of Workers Compensation Programs, the Equal Opportunity Employment Commission. And those are just the big ones. Then there’s all the insurance laws, compensation requirements. And, since some of our divisions are tied to the government, we have whole different record keeping requirements. Did you know that, Captain? That the records I keep for you and your team are different from the ones I keep for the supernatural division?”

He didn’t even bother speaking, just mutely shook his head. I plowed on, my blood pressure pounding in my temples as I slipped the leash on my chaos.

“No. You didn’t. Because all you need to worry about is a battle strategy, right? Mr. Star Spangled Man with a Plan?” My volume increased with every word, as did the size of Rogers’ eyes. “All I’m asking, Captain, is that you try, for the love of all that’s holy, TRY to follow the damn policies just once in a while. And trust that this ‘HR broad’ might actually know what she’s doing. And realize I’ve got your fucking six everywhere BUT the battle field. OKAY?”

My rage-sweating hands slapped against the conference room table as I leaned forward, shouting at the man. Months, months of diplomacy in the face of his and his team’s mulish obstinance went up in a flaming glory.

They could hear Steve’s gulp of terror out in the hall. He nodded jerkily in the silence that followed.

“Do we all understand each other?” The chorus of instantaneous ‘yes, ma’am’s’ did their mamas proud. I yanked myself to stand straight, knees trembly. Wow, post-battle adrenaline really is a thing.

“Excellent.” Bucky flinched - actually flinched - as I snapped my folder so hard, the paper bent. I snatched the PIP out of Clint’s hands so forcefully, the paper ripped, and I didn’t even care. That’s why God made tape. I stuffed the innocent document and the folder into my bag with a crunch that would have Julia hating me later when she had to scan it for filing.

“Is…is that all, ma’am?” Captain America just about cowered.

“Yes. No,” I swiveled back towards them, causing the three troublemakers to reel back. Clint actually fell out of his chair when he rolled back with a touch too much fear. “Captain. Pick three federal laws from Section 2 of the employee handbook. One for you, one for the Sergeant, one for Agent Barnes. Each of you will write me an essay on why that federal law is so important to your division. I want it in my email inbox by 8:00am tomorrow. Any questions?”

“Why doesn’t the other birdbrain have to do one?” Bucky asked with tentative sullenness. My left eye twitched in time with the vein bulging in my forehead.

“Because, Sergeant,” I tossed at him as I tugged my bag over my shoulder and snatched up my precious comfort chai, “he knows how to follow policy.”

I didn’t see Agent Romanov’s impressed gaze or the dinner-plate-sized eyes of the other employees hovering in the hall. I didn’t hear the elevator bell that heralded my floor. All I knew was the onslaught of chemicals in my body as I flopped into my chair - fight-fueled cortisol, and victory-induced dopamine.

There just isn’t enough chai in the world to make up for my need for a vacation.

A tentative tap-tap-tap at my door heralded Julia. “Um - you okay?”

My throat burned as I chugged back some latte, then sighed huge and straightened up to look at my comrade-at-arms. “No.”

“I…I really hate to tell you this, especially now. But the bard from the convergence division called again. He wants to file another harassment complaint on that mage.”

All my stalwart battle-readiness left me, and my spine Slinky-d forward until my brow thunked down on the desk blotter before me.

“What’s our motto, Julia?” I mumbled out with a groan. My colleague and fellow-sufferer sighed.

“Heroes make us tired.” Rubbing my temples, I avoided thinking of the likelihood that Captain Rogers’ potential tattling on me would result in my unemployment.

“So. Fucking. Tired.”

#Steve Rogers #captain america #Bucky Barnes #sam wilson #falcon #clint barton #hawkeye #natasha romanoff #black widow #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #clint barton x reader #sam wilson x reader #shy vy writes #Heroes Make Me Tired

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