#but thanks to Nick's organizing skills it's now this!

[territorial-utopia]

Any of you looking for G/t media to consume? Well here’s a handy list of some potential stuff to look into!

Do you know of more content that’s not on this list? Let us know and we’ll add it on for others to find too!

#gianttiny #sfwgt #giant/tiny #giant tiny #gt community #look #in search of gt #or ISOG/t as I like to call it #has been a thing I've been working on for ages #not in this format #it started out on deviantart #but thanks to Nick's organizing skills it's now this! #an open library! #or a catalogue more like

[kvtie444]

°•★ SOLO .1

A/N: luv this sm and it's gonna be a slow burn! so excited for this!! couldn’t pick a song for the first chapter so i did this lolz cool name n that

Summary: reader moves to LA for work and becomes the sturniolos editor, but what happens when she falls for chris..

Warnings: swearing, mentions of sex and drinking

・₊✧⋆⭒˚｡⋆

I've achieved a major milestone at the age of 19 – relocating from my hometown to Los Angeles. While my current residence is a modest yet comfortable apartment, I aspire to upgrade once my income starts flowing. Thanks to some connections my mum, I landed an opportunity to showcase my photography and cinematography skills. My mums friend Laura manages the Sturniolo triplets, a prominent group in the YouTube community.

“Y/n?”, the barista interrupts with my drink. Smiling, I grab my beverage and head outside, taking in a deep breath. A sense of responsibility to make a good impression washes over me as I stroll, catching glimpses of myself in passing windows. The anticipation and nervousness fuel my journey to Laura's home office.

Arriving at her house, I ring the doorbell. Laura opens the door with a warm smile, “Hi dear! You look just like your mum” she says. Pulling me into a hug. “Lovely to meet you” I smile back. We exchange greetings, and she guides me upstairs. Seated in her office, she briefs me on the tasks ahead – editing their weekly podcast, vlog, and car video, along with organizing a photoshoot for an upcoming merch drop.

Midway through our conversation, a knock at the door interrupts us. Laura's daughter, Madi, "Nick's outside, I'm leaving now," she informs Laura, who interjects, "Actually, Madi, would you mind taking y/n here with you? She can actually meet them." "Oh, I don't want to intrude," I say, but Madi reassures me, "No, it's fine! I mentioned you had this meeting earlier, and Nick saw your page. We were both obsessed with your work." I agree with a smile, bid farewell to Laura, and follow Madi for a casual chat on the move and work.

At the front door, we find a minivan, and I open the back door, greeted by Nick. "It's so nice to meet you! I'm Nick, sorry for picking you up so last minute," he apologizes with a smile. "It's fine, no worries," I respond with a laugh. The driver, Matt, turns around, and I smile and wave. "You alright?" he asks, focusing on pulling out of the parking spot. "Yeah," I reply with a smile. “Is Chris still home?” Madi inquires, and Nick nods. The car ride is accompanied by quiet music and small talk, centered around getting to know each other.

Upon reaching the Sturniolo's house, we let ourselves in and head up the stairs to their living room. I drop my bag onto the couch. Madi, Nick, and I sit around the couch, with me in the middle, as Matt heads to the fridge. "Y/n, want anything to drink?" he asks, turning to me. "No, it's fine. I'm good," I shake my head. He places four Pepsis on the coffee table before taking a seat between me and Nick. I smile to myself, cute.

Nick is incredibly friendly, and we bond over our shared interests in photography. Matt is also sweet, ensuring I'm not left out in any conversation and keeping me entertained. Madi already feels like a sister vibe. The three of us are currently laughing at Nick's tangent about some driver on the journey to Laura's. "I mean, this dumb fuck shouldn't be allowed on the road, didn't even know how to use a fucking indicator," he practically yells. I laugh, my head falling back.

My attention shifts to the stairs as I hear someone walking up them. It's Chris - he practically ignores us all as he walks to the fridge, opening it. Our conversation dies down, and the room becomes dead silent; you could hear a pin drop. "Who the fuck took the last Pepsi?" he grumbles, basically slamming the fridge shut. "Chris," Nick scolds. Chris turns to look at us all on the sofa. "Oh, hey," he nonchalantly nods at me. I shoot a quick, small smile before dropping it. What the fuck.

"We can pick up another pack when we go out to film the car video tonight," Chris starts but is quickly cut off. "Chris, this is the editor, Y/n," Madi speaks up, furrowing her brows at him. "Oh shit, my bad. Just thought it was some girl Matt brought back," he chuckles, motioning to Matt's arm behind my head on the sofa. We all just stare at him in disbelief. He hums to himself before walking over, picking up my Pepsi in front of me that I had already had half of, holding eye contact with me. He downs it and drops it back on the table, the can rolling away. "Dude," Nick scolds him. "Later," Chris mumbles before going back to his room. My jaw is slack from slight shock at him. "I'm so sorry about him," Matt begins. "It's fine, don't worry about it," I smile, lying at him; in truth, it did bother me because, it was out of order. I mean, I'm going to be working for this absolute dick.

We're snapped out of our thoughts again by someone walking upstairs, but this time it's some blonde Instagram model girl from Chris's room. She simply walks past us and leaves the house. Lovely.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Nick added you to a groupchat

I read the notification before unlocking my phone, it was a group chat of me and the triplets, just titled “📸”

I go on the chat, the only message being from nick.

From Nick

Hey girl, videos coming out in 2 days, I've got the SD card if you wanna come pick it up!

I smile and respond, agreeing to the plans. Nick and Matt like the message, while Chris leaves it on read. The noise from my upstairs neighbours is getting louder, prompting me to sigh and pinch my nose. I quickly pack a bag with my laptop and other essentials. Thankfully, the weather in LA is never cold, so I leave in my comfy outfit of sweatpants and a crop top.

I arrive at the house and knock on the door. Matt opens it, greets me, and pulls me into a side hug. "Hey, is Nick in?" I inquire. "Yeah, he's making lunch. You want any?" Matt offers. Despite not wanting to be a burden, my rumbling stomach speaks for itself. "If you don't mind," I smile at him. "Not at all," he says before heading upstairs.

Nick is busy cooking pasta, and Chris is lounging on the sofa, scrolling on his phone. He looks up at me as I quickly avert my gaze. "Hey, food's ready now if you want a plate," Nick smiles at me as I slide my bag off my shoulder onto the dining table and sit down. "Yeah, that's great. Um, would you mind if I edit here? My neighbours are driving me crazy," I ask nervously, sticking my tongue in my cheek. "Of course! Stay as long as you like," Nick offers a warm smile, serving the pasta.

"Just letting you know, Chris is having people over later, so you can edit in my room upstairs," he continues, placing my plate in front of me with a fork. I stab the pasta, blow on it, smile, and nod. Matt takes his plate and goes to his room to stream, while Nick leaves a plate out for Chris as he goes to shower. shit, it's just us in the room now.

As I eat my pasta, I hear Chris get up from the couch, then the chair next to me scratching the floor. He sits next to me, pulling his plate of pasta toward him as he begins eating. It's awkward, with his legs obnoxiously spread so our knees are touching. The only sounds are the slight chewing and our forks scraping the plate until Chris speaks up, "You drink?" he asks me. "I guess," I reply, considering I only drink socially. "I was gonna invite you to my thing tonight, but not if you're dressed like that," he says, stabbing pasta with his fork. Thanks. "I'm busy editing tonight anyway," I mumble, playing with my food slightly on my plate. He sighs before breaking the silence again. "I've got a fresh love drop, need you on the set for photos, can you take them like this?" he asks sounding more like an order than a question, as he shows me my own Instagram post with photos taken from a digital camera. "Yeah," I reply, my eyes still on his phone as I eat. He swipes off Instagram, and as he does, I catch a glimpse of what I assume to be his designs in his camera roll. I have to admit; he has a good vision.

I eventually finish my meal, wash up after myself, grab a drink, and head upstairs to Nick's room. He's playing Fortnite on his TV with Matt on the other end of the headset, presumably still streaming. We exchange silent smiles before I sit on his desk and pull out my laptop. He left the SD card out for me, so I slot it in and begin working on it. While watching the unedited video, I can't help but stare at Chris. As much as I hate to admit it, he looks good - the way his black tee hugs his biceps, how blue his eyes are. Focus, Y/n.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

I've just finished the video, and Nick and I are currently sitting on his bed, sharing headphones. It's hard to pay attention due to the obnoxiously loud people downstairs and the booming music. It's now 2 am, and the party seems to be ending as the music stops, and the muffled voices get quieter. He laughs as the video ends, clapping his hands together in amusement. "Honestly, y/n, that's amazing," he smiles at me. I save the video and hand the SD card back to him, ready for upload.

"Tomorrow, we're going out to film another 'come eat with us' video. I'll let you know when we're ready for editing," he explains, and I nod in agreement. "I should get going," I say, looking out the window at the night sky. "Let me ask Matt to drop you off," he suggests. I nod and hug him before heading downstairs with my bag alone.

The scene downstairs is chaotic, with red solo cups everywhere, spilt drinks on the now sticky floor, and chairs moved around. Chris is by the kitchen alone, drinking Bacardi straight from the bottle. I sigh as I attempt to walk past, but he calls my name. I turn to look at him, and he waves me over with his middle and index finger. As I step towards him, I can smell the alcohol on his breath; he's clearly drunk.

"Drink with me," he slurs. I shake my head no, but it doesn't stop him. He shoves the glass bottle in my face. "Chris, I'm good," I assert, but he doesn't stop. He continues, and I try to push the bottle away, but it ends up dropping, shattering on the floor. I groan as I bend down, picking up the large pieces of glass.

"Y/n," he groans, but I ignore him. I wince as a shard cuts my hand, and blood quickly starts coming out. "Shit," I mutter, dropping the glass I was holding and standing up. "Let me see," Chris mumbles, grabbing my wrist. I let him, and he examines the cut, almost snapping out of his drunken state. His warm hand sends jolts through my body as he holds me. He walks me over to the sink, turning it on and rinsing my hand under it. I wince at the feeling, causing him to soothingly rub his thumb over my wrist. "Shh, it's okay, you're fine," he mumbles. He grabs a bandage from a drawer while still holding onto my wrist, gently placing it on my palm and rubbing it down.

"Pretty sure you're meant to disinfect it," I look up at him. "Pretty sure you're the sober one, and somehow I'm the one helping you," he smirks to himself. I breathe out a laugh as he looks up at me and away from my hand. We stare at each other for a second, the tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. We hear a door open, and he's quick to drop my wrist, turning away, making me frown slightly. "Yo, y/n, let's go—what the fuck?" Matt says, coming from his room and seeing the glass on the floor. He looks up at my bandaged hand. "What happened?" he asks, concerned. "Don't worry about it, let's go," I mumble, walking around the glass and to him. I look back for a second and see Chris leaning against the counter, eyes glued to his phone.

I get in the front seat of Matt's car and feel my phone buzz.

From Chris

sorry

・₊✧⋆⭒˚｡⋆

tag list !!

@iloveneilperry @bernardenjoyer

@daddyslilchickenfingers

@mbbsgf @sturnvilmed @sturnphilia @s1urnioloslvr

@mattsbratt @mangoposts @christinarowie332

@recklesssturniolo @bluesturniolo333

@flowerxbunnie @kenzieiskoolaid @pepsiskiess

@poopydroopt @byechristopher @solarsturniolo

@m6ttsturniolo @lustfulslxt @stardustmf444

@thankyounextt @glossyfx @bellasturniolo @justurniolos @cl0esblogg @strumbolisworld @strniolosworld @chrisloyalgf @aliyahsbody

#chris sturniolo x reader #angst #matt sturniolo x reader #imagine #matt sturniolo #fluff #chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #smut #nick sturniolo #Spotify

[storiesofsvu]

Solace in Solitude Ch 14

Emily Prentiss x reader warnings: language, minor mention of injury, smut, comfort. Welp. Here we are! we finally did it! A 14 chapter story never should have taken me seven months to write, but tackling it while also tackling so much extra shit at work delayed it. Thank you SO much to all of you patient angel babies who stuck along and I hope you've enjoyed it. As I said on another post, I will be starting to write 2 new series shortly, but will not be posting them until they are at least halfway done. In the meantime, expect more frequent one shots! (here's hoping lol).

Cutting through the ER wasn’t something you’d normally do, but it was a shortcut on the way back from the cafeteria, your usual route overcrowded with patient overflow. It was by chance that you were there, or as some might have called it, fate.

Because that was when you saw her, elbows on her knees while her eyes were on her phone, texting away while she waited.

“Emily?” Your brow furrowed as you stalled in your tracks and the other woman looked up from her phone, her eyes widening when she saw you. “What’re you doing here?” You asked while you approached, greeting her with a hug when she stood, “wait are you hurt?” You suddenly pulled back with a worried expression on your face and she laughed softly.

“No, one of my team. Nothing bad, just a dislocated shoulder.”

“What brings the BAU all the way to London?”

“Oh,” she caught herself laughing awkwardly again, an unsure fluttering had started in her stomach, slowly working its way into her chest, “I’m not with them anymore. I got a job offer to run my own team with Interpol.”

She smiled softly at you and you felt your entire body relax, “so… you live here now?”

“Yeah…” she stuttered, biting on her lip, “I was gonna call, I swear! I just wanted to wait til things settled down. I mean, my apartment’s still all in boxes, my office is a disaster and to be completely honest… I can’t even remember the last name of the person I’m here with.”

You barked a laugh at that, your hand swatting at her arm and Emily practically melted at the sparkle in your eye, heat lingering where you’d touched her.

“Sounds like you need to chill and it just so happens that I’ve become very skilled at unboxing and figuring out how to decorate. If you’d like a hand?”

Emily glanced briefly down to her phone when it buzzed, then looked back up to your smiling face and knew there was no way that she wanted to say no to the offer. She hadn’t even originally been the one to escort her agent to the hospital, she was supposed to continue overseeing the training exercise but she’d figured it would look good as a new leader to make sure an injury was properly taken care of. It was complete luck she had been sitting in the emergency room of your hospital.

“Honestly that sounds amazing, I could really use the help.”

“Perfect.” You grinned, “text me your address and a time. I’ll bring dinner?”

“I’ve got the perfect wine to go along with it.”

*

Take out containers lay on the coffee table, now mainly empty, only a few bites left in each with half full wine glasses beside them. The kitchen was organized, the television finally hooked up, now softly playing music from one of Emily’s favourite stations, you’d just finished assembling a book shelf, now filling its shelves with books and nick naks, fawning over the amount of awards Emily had to show off. Out of sheer habit you were focused on alphabetizing a row of books, swapping a few of them around while she dug through one of the boxes, pulling out a framed photo of Garcia and Sergio to place on the shelf as a final touch right as you slid the last book into place.

“That about does it.” You said, turning to look around the apartment before your eyes landed on Emily, “unless you’re still sleeping on the couch.”

“No.” She laughed, feeling her cheeks heat, “bedroom’s good. I’m either sleeping or at work, it was just everything else that slipped through the cracks.”

“Like picking up the phone?” You asked with a smirk and she scoffed.

“Hey, c’mon I said I was gonna—”

“It’s okay.” You laughed, “c’mere.”

“What?” She asked, stepping toward you as she wiped at her face, concerned there was a speck of sauce somewhere she couldn’t feel.

“There’s just something I wanted to do since I saw you this afternoon.”

“Huh?” Emily felt like her heart was about to beat out of her chest, feeling the spark shoot through her body when you grabbed her hand and pulled her to you.

A second later that hand was cupping her cheek and her lips were met with yours, gracefully moving against each other in a not so forgotten dance, rather one that you both had been aching for. One that you hadn’t even realized you missed as much as you did until you saw each other again. Her arms easily wound around you, the tension leaving her body as she melted into the embrace, sighing into the kiss when she felt you completely relax too. Her tongue slid across your lower lip and it only took a second for you to part your lips to grant her access, the corners of your lips curving up into a happy grin. It was different than any other kiss the two of you had shared, it was one of true emotion, tender, intimate, where both of you felt completely at peace and totally safe.

Oxygen was the only reason to be seen to break the kiss, foreheads resting against each other while you caught your breath, little laughs leaving your lips to battle the potential awkwardness of the situation. Your thumb stroked the side of her neck while her hands tickled at your sides,

“I missed you.” You were the first to admit it through a whisper and Emily smiled, stealing a tender kiss.

“Believe me, I missed you more.” Her hands slipped under the hem of your shirt, tracing patterns into your skin, “and I’ll prove it.”

Your giggle was quickly silenced by another kiss, Emily’s hands nudging you toward the bedroom while your hands began to tangle into her hair. By the time the backs of your knees hit her bed she had your shirt tugged over your head, tossing it to the floor behind her so she could rid you of your bra. Your fingers ghosted under the hem of her shirt, trailing up and across her skin, though they froze when her breath caught in her throat.

“Sorry.” You murmured against her lips and she shook her head slightly.

“It’s okay.”

You glanced up at her and she gave you a soft nod, trust and vulnerability filling her eyes as her hands went to the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head before pulling you back into a kiss. While her tongue slipped into your mouth again you were able to undo her bra, letting it fall to the ground as you both began the work of getting completely naked. At the last minute you managed to spin her around, letting her topple onto the mattress with a gentle laugh as you crawled over top of her.

“God you’re beautiful.” You murmured, eyes sweeping up her body and she felt her cheeks tinge pink.

When your lips met once again your hands ghosted up her sides, finger tips tracing patterns on her skin before gently groping at her chest. She let out a soft moan into the kiss, hands grabbing your ass and pulling you closer to her, shifting you slightly so you were straddling her thigh.

Emily broke the kiss with a gasp when you pinched at her nipples, her head thrown back into the pillows, giving you the ample opportunity to kiss down the column of her neck, teeth nipping into her sensitive skin. A hand sunk between your bodies and she instinctively spread her legs to give you easier access. Her hips rocked up off the bed when your fingertips slipped through her folds, rubbing gently at her clit while your mouth made a home in the crook of her neck.

“Fuck…” she groaned when two fingers slipped into her pussy, pumping steadily. Her hands gripped onto your hips, urging you to grind down onto her body, riding her thigh and she felt you moan into her neck.

Your fingers began to pump faster, curling to find that sensitive spot and Emily was sure to keep her hands on your hips, guiding you in the same rhythm, a moan leaving her throat at the feeling of your wetness spreading across her thigh. She flexed the muscle, pulling a gasp from you as your clit dragged right across it and your teeth sunk into her skin.

“Oh god…”

“Don’t stop.” She murmured, nipping at your earlobe before nudging at your chin, urging your lips back to hers for another kiss, eager to taste you again.

The kiss was breathless, airy moans leaving one set of lips only to be swallowed by the other, gasps breaking free as pleasure soared through both of your bodies. Your skin slick with sweat as you moved together, working higher and higher, Emily’s pussy pulsing around your fingers while your juices coated her skin. It had been too long, you’d both been unknowingly waiting for this moment for what felt like forever and you were both hitting your peaks before you even expected, cries of pleasure bouncing off the bedroom walls as your bodies shook against each other.

Panting, you slipped off Emily’s leg, rolling onto your back as your arm snuck around her, pulling her to you and she eagerly curled into your side, resting her head on your chest. You let out a soft sigh, pressing a kiss to the top of her head and she returned one to your collarbone, her fingers drawing circles on your skin before lacing together with yours. Your free hand trailed up her side, slowing when it hit the fading white marks, tracing them with a featherlight touch. Emily surprised herself when she didn’t flinch, rather relaxed deeper into your embrace, feeling the warmth from your touch rushing through her and it was the first time she hadn’t felt pain radiating from that same spot. She squeezed at your other hand and you hummed softly, leaving another kiss on the side of her head. You shivered lightly as your body temperature began to drop, reaching out and pulling the blankets up over the both of you.

“I don’t want this to be a one time thing.” Emily murmured, her lips brushing against your skin when she spoke.

“It doesn’t have to be.” You replied, your hand settling in her hair for a moment before she shifted onto her side, propping herself up on her elbow.

“I want it to be more than what we had in Paris.” She chewed on her lip, glancing down for a moment as she felt the heat creep into her cheeks again, “I’ll admit, I wanted to take the Interpol job before I knew where it was, being in London, that was just a very happy accident. But I think deep down I knew that I had to come here, DC wasn’t where I was meant to be. Nothing felt right, I didn’t understand anything again. I felt lost in a place that had felt like home for years. Then I realized the only thing familiar, the only thing that was constant when I was at my darkest, the thing that got me through each day… was you.”

“Oh Em…” you reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, “you worked pretty damn hard yourself too.” Your hand trailed down her cheek, thumb soothing across her skin, turning her frown into a small smile.

“I don’t want to do it alone anymore.”

You grinned across at her, leaning in to press a tender kiss to her lips, “well then it’s pretty lucky that you don’t have to. Because I’m not going anywhere.”

Emily’s lips burst into a smile, a huff of an excited laugh escaping as she pulled you to her for another kiss, this one that you both laughed into as you fell back into the pillows. The road to find each other certainly hadn’t been the most conventional, nor was it the easiest, but you’d found your place and all that mattered now was that you had each other.

__________________

@momlifebehard @daddy-heather-dunbar @maybe-a-humanbean @rustyzebra @leftoverenvy @kades95 @dextur @supercriminalbean @daffodil-heart @its-soph-xx @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece @hopelesslyfallenninlove @peanutbutterprincess @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar @scorpsik @happenstnces @sapphicprentiss @geekyandgay98 @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @desperate-gay @amypoehlfey @overtrred28 @regalmilfs4me @ara-a-bird @five-bi-five-mind @niyizh @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @hotchs-bitch @ollysmulti @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @romanoffsho @ratsnestinmyhair @assgardangod @hopedoesntknow @dj-bynum3718 @venromanova @waitaminuteashh @imlike-so-gaydude @wittygutsy @cx-emerald-cx @lesbodietcoke @momily @nilaues @borinxnovak

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #solace in solitude #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #emily prentiss fanfic

[fictionalmenmakemecry]

Fuckin' with the Ecosystem- Chapter 2

Characters: Carmy Berzatto x Reader

Summary: You spend your Sunday afternoon with Carmy, by your side, trying to make sense of the piles of disorganized paperwork. You finally have a chance to ask what happened to his brother, only to regret it after finding out the answer. You start to realize you might be there for more than just financial guidance.

Warnings: Angst, Suicide mentions, Alcohol.

A/n: I'm really excited writing this series. It's been awhile since writing something like this. I hope you guys enjoy it and please let me know what you think! Any feedback would be amazing. If there's any other ideas you have in mind about our Carmy, my requests are open!

Here's chapter one, if haven't read yet.

Enjoy :)

It was a Sunday evening, and after officially a week of being at 'The Original Beef of Chicagoland,' you were no were nowhere closer to telling Carmy the legal or financial status of his restaurant.

It took you half the week to just organize the random letters and scraps of paper laying in boxes. With that, there was still portions missing.

Carmy came through the swinging doors with two plates. He placed your plate on the desk and scooted a chair closer to you. He felt bad about dropping this bomb on you. But even worse now, because you came in every day this week to get on top of this mess.

When he found out that you were coming in today, there was no doubt that he was coming in too, even though the restaurant was closed. He didn't say anything though, knowing you would try and convince him not to come in.

You looked up and gave him a grateful smile picking up the plate of pasta and swapping your pen for a fork.

"Don't go too hard on me. It's whatever I could lay my hand on." He said with his mouth half full.

You rolled my eyes, like you were going to be judging him on his culinary skills right now. Especially, after everything you saw in the previous job.

You stabbed the penne pasta with your fork and shoved it in your mouth, not really caring about the taste. You started to notice how hungry you really were. The taste was the last thing on your mind. Saying that, it was delicious.

You both sat in silence, scoffing down the food as fast as possible. Carmy took the cleared plates from you and worked his way back to the kitchen.

As he rinsed the last bit of suds off the plates, he paused a moment and went over to the mini fridge in the corner of the kitchen. He took out two chilled bottles, thinking that you need something to help you relax after searching through piles of paper all day.

After a few moments, he popped back through the doors with two beers in his hand.

"Thanks." You smiled, taking the cold beer from him.

"I wish we had somethin' stronger than this, but 'aven't found my brother's hidden stash yet." Carmy put the lip of the bottle on the edge of the desk and slammed his hand down on it.

The cap popped off and fell onto the ground and he took a swig of his beer.

"He has one?" You asked, trying the same move as he just did with his bottle.

You slammed your hand onto it but at the wrong angle. Your hand ended up punching the desk and you felt the pain traveling up your arm.

"Fuck" You muttered wincing.

You look over to see Carmy holding back a smile and reached over to take the bottle off of you.

"Very smooth" He broke into a snicker before doing the same maneuver on your bottle with ease.

"Fuck you" You smirked back, snatching the bottle off of him and bringing it to your mouth.

You looked over to see him leaning back on the chair with his legs straight out in front of him. Your feet leaning against his awkwardly in the smallest office in Chicago.

"How's Nick?" He asked, playing with the beer label.

"Uh.. I wouldn't know" You were caught off guard by the question. Since coming into town, you and him haven't really had the chance to talk about anything other than work.

"We broke up a year ago." You eventually said taking a glance up at him.

Thank fuck, he thought to himself

"Shit, sorry, I didn't know" He hummed taking another drink.

"Nah, it's fine. The relationship was past its expiry. It was becoming toxic as hell." You glanced up at him with a soft smile.

"You were right though" You continued after a moment of silence.

Carmy looked up with slight confusion, wondering what you were talking about.

"He was lying to me, about... well pretty much everything." You explained, feeling the sinking feeling in your heart.

You remembered finding out about all the lies. That the person you had spent so much time with had lied about everything good in his life. You didn't know him at all.

A memory sparked in Carmy's mind, he was back in New York. He was at a bar with you. After begging him week after week to go out for a drink with you, he gave in. Too many beers later, he blurted out his real thoughts on Nick. Looking back, he couldn't help but cringe on the way he acted. He couldn't even remember the exact words he said. But he remembers your reaction and the hurt in her eyes.

"W-What did I even say?" Carmy asked, squinting his eyes trying to think back harder.

You thought back to the memory. The loud music, sticky bar table and Carmy's messy hair across from you. You remember smelling beer on his breath and his words were slightly slurred. The haze in his eyes was getting thicker.

"Um.. you said that Nick was full of shit." You recalled and then smiled to yourself when you remembered more.

"And I quote 'He's playing you like a fuckin' fiddle'" Feeling a smirk climb onto your face.

Carmy rubbed his mouth down with his hand trying to hide his smile. But a smile broke through anyway.

"Jesus, I really have a way with words." He scoffed to himself, taking another gulp from the bottle.

You quietly laughed, bringing the beer up to your mouth.

Carmy brought his hand to his hair to scratch his head. He felt ashamed for his raw words. But he was grateful that you didn't hold it against him.

To say he struggled socially would be an understatement. He felt too awkward sometimes, to the point where he would be uncomfortable. Over the years of moving the way he did, he rarely had more than one or two friends at most. Those friends were mostly work colleagues.

"Can I ask you somethin'?" You asked bringing him out of thought.

He nodded, putting his empty beer bottle on the desk.

"How did your brother..." You trailed off, not knowing how to phrase your question.

"He killed himself, shot himself in the head," Carmy's said bluntly, crossing his arms avoiding eye contact with you. His stare never leaving the floor.

You stared at him and didn't say a word. For some reason, you just thought he died in a car accident. Your mind went blank for a moment only to realise what Carmy might be going through.

"Fuck Carmy, I'm so sor-"

"Don't." He interrupted, shaking his head.

"It's fine. Really." He shrugged getting up abruptly to the point it startled you a little.

He grabbed his empty beer bottle and gestured at you to see if you wanted another one.

You nodded absent-minded, still digesting the bomb he dropped on you.

He went to the kitchen and shook his head in annoyance while walking to the fridge. He felt like a shithead saying something like that so plainly. He didn't want to scare you away. It didn't help that he walked away straight after saying it.

Well fuckin' done, smooth as always, he thought to himself on his way to the fridge.

He came back with two new bottles and cracked them open with ease again. He placed yours on the desk in front of you.

You both sat there, not saying a word. He was never the type that was good with words. Usually talking got him into more trouble. His family were blunt and to the point. No feelings were ever spared in the household. He didn't want to be that way. Since moving away, he always made an effort to get better at communicating.

You looked over to see his leg shaking non stop. It was dumb for you to bring up his brother. You could have asked anyone else, and they would have told you.

You gulped down the last of your first one and pushed it onto the desk. Carmy held the neck of the bottle, resting it between his legs. He shifted in his seat, making you glance over at him.

"I didn't mean to unload this on you. For some reason, I thought you knew. It's fuckin' stupid for me to think that." He leaned forward resting his arms on his thighs.

"I-I'm sorry," He continued, resting his hand on your arm, looking up through his lids.

You looked down at his hand on your arm, the warmth of his hand on your wrist.

"You're the last person that's should apologise." You gave a weak smile resting your hand on top of his.

You both sat there, not saying anything. The peace you felt between both of you was something you missed since going your separate ways. You notice that his leg shake slowed down to a halt.

"If you need someone, you know I'm here, right?" You angled your head making sure to keep eye contact.

"Yea- yeah I know" He nodded pulling away and leaning back into his chair.

Since moving back to Chicago, he hasn't had a moment to himself to think. He didn't know if he even wanted one. He felt that if he stopped for one brief moment, that everything would catch up. His thoughts, feelings and grief. Him being next to you, gave him comfort. Having someone who knew him before his life turned into a shitshow. His old life where it was stressful but not chaotic. Not the way it is now.

He took out his pack of cigarettes, taking one out before turning the pack to you.

You quit smoking a year ago but didn't have the heart to deny his offer, especially after the heart wrenching conversation. You took one and got up from your seat grabbing the coat from the chair. You followed him out behind the building. His cigarette held between his lips as his zipped up his wool jacket shielding him from the sharp breeze. It was becoming dark, the fall evenings really settling in Chicago.

Carmy searched his pockets and pulled out a pink transparent lighter, flicking it with his thumb a couple of times before a small flame emitted from it. A glow was cast on his face, with the end of his smoke burning bright orange.

You gazed at him with the weight of guilt in your stomach. You started to think that maybe you weren't just there for management guidance. Maybe you were there for support. It was hard to tell, Carmy was never the type to speak his thoughts. That's what made this so difficult. How do you ask someone about something so sensitive?

You gave a quick smile as he leaned the lighter to you. You inhaled watching the cigarette catch a light before feeling the smoke travel down to your lungs. You exhaled letting out a sigh of relief, forgetting the bliss that smoking gave you. He looked up with his lip curled at the end blowing smoke out his nose.

"It's been awhile" You looked over smiling softly.

He gave a slight nodded, scratching his upper lip with his thumb while holding the cig.

Your denim jacket wasn't doing you any favors in this unforgiving cold, you brought your arms closer to your body. You didn't think Chicago was going to be this cold into Fall and took note that you needed to buy a heavier one.

"How long can you stay?" He asked walking over and sitting down to the weathered wooden bench.

You take a seat beside him thinking about your response.

"Uhhh, great question." You licked your lips after another pull.

How do you break it to him that you lost your job 3 months ago.

You clicked your pen over and over, sitting in the office on a late weeknight. As you looked at the roster for the upcoming weeks you double checked the bookings to make sure enough staff was around for the busy season to come. With people taking their PTO, it was a challenge every year that always left you with a nightmare to figure out. The knock on the door broke your focus and you looked up to see Vince popping his head in.

"Hey Vince" You smiled leaning back on the office chair.

"Hey" He closed the door behind him gently and you noticed something off immediately.

"How's things going?" He asked with soft tone stuffing his hands into his back pockets.

"Just the usual, it's the time of the nightmare PTO" You chuckled lightly.

"What's up?" You glanced at the clock on the wall noticing this was an off time for him to check in, 10pm on a Tuesday night.

He took a deep breath but keeping his gaze on the ground. You felt your stomach turn from the sudden change in atmosphere.

"I-I don't know how to say this." He stuttered.

Now you were real concerned, you sat up watching him. He was only a shadow of his usual self. The bearded man who would put a smile on your face when just being around his presence. He would check in on everyone to make sure there was no issues. He helped you become who you are today with everything he thought you when it came to managing a bustling restaurant.

"Marie, she's been diagnosed with ....cancer." His voice broke, you could tell he was holding back.

"What?" You said to yourself in disbelief. You saw her last week when she came in to check in. She looked fine, totally normal.

"But-" You stopped not wanting to say anything to upset him.

"Did you get a second opinion?" You asked after a moment, hearing about misdiagnoses can be a thing.

He nodded looking down at the ground. You could tell he was barely keeping it together. They've been together for decades and you knew this hit him to his core.

"It's stage 4" He whispered keeping his eyes on the floor.

You stared at him, not understanding the words coming out of his mouth. You've known them for years. You've grown as a manager here. You've been through the ups and downs, through the surreal covid time.

"I'm so sorry Vince-" You said sympathetically, getting up from the chair to try and comfort him.

He went on to tell you that they would have to shutdown the restaurant for the foreseeable future if not for good. They didn't have enough time nor money to keep the restaurant going and treat his wife for however long she had left. You started recommending things that might help them but it seemed that the decision was already made.

You watch him leave the office sorrowfully and in that instant felt completely lost. The roster that you were making, didn't matter. The new menus that were freshly printed on your desk didn't matter. You could hear Vince muffled voice from the kitchen. Most likely telling the rest of the staff the devastating news.

Two weeks later, you closed up the restaurant for the last time. After spending years there, you had no backup plan. It was completely unexpected.

The honking of a car down the street snapped you out of your trance.

"The thing is.." you paused flicking the ash off your cigarette.

"Vince shut up shop a couple of months ago" You blew smoke out of your mouth.

"What?" Carmy furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

You nodded dropping the butt on the ground smooshing it with you boot.

"Marie got cancer, terminal" You stated remembering the last phone conversation you had with Vince.

He sounded weak on other end of the phone. You called to check in knowing they needed all the support right now. He told you that she was in a hospice, making her comfortable and waiting for the inevitable.

"Last time I spoke to him, he said she only had a month left at most" You scrunched up your lips, your feelings whelming up inside.

Carmy sat there. He didn't say anything. You didn't want to tell him after everything he's been through but when it came to Marie passing you didn't want to shock him.

"Shit" He whispered, his head dropped.

You brought your hand over and rubbed his back. You didn't want to deliver the bad news but keeping something like that from him wasn't right either.

You could feel tears pricking up in your eyes and wiped them away quickly. You had no right to cry right now. You wanted to be there for Carmy.

Both of you sat there in silence. You wondered what he was thinking and wanted to not make him feel worse than he probably already did.

"I remember when you first started." You smiled to yourself while the memory ran through your mind.

"You came in so focused on what Vince was telling you. You wouldn't talk to anyone. You get in, do your work, stay late and then go home." You chuckled lightly to yourself.

You remember watching him as he watch Vince guided him. He would hang onto every word Vince said, like his life depended on it. People would crack jokes here and there especially when it was a slow night but Carmy wouldn't even crack a smile. He wasn't there to fuck around.

"I remember that one dick that screamed at me in front of a 12 top after his food was delayed and Vince came out and gave him an earful, 'emeber that?" You reminisced

Carmy sat back up and nodded, half smiling.

"I just remember being in the walk in and you burst in crying." He commented glancing over at you.

"I didn't even notice you were there at first. I was just in shock from getting screamed at in front of everyone"

You remembered looking over and seeing him with a container of sauce, frozen in place and staring at you completely startled. He came over asking what happened and through the sobbing you explained. Carmy gave you some words of reassurance knowing the bastard that screamed at you was just a cruel prick. It was the first time you talked to each other and it was nice to know he wasn't a complete robot.

He remembered seeing you in such distress with your eyes red and swollen. After hearing about what happened, he wanted to go in front and tell the motherfucker to get out of the restaurant. But he knew Vince was handling it. He never spoke much to you, but knew that you were nothing but nice to him and that you didn't deserve to be treated that way. Nobody deserved that.

After that day, Carmy and you would share some words through the shift and then those words turn to conversations which eventually lead to both of you hanging out at work.

"Wanna go back in?" Carmy nodded towards the door.

You both return to normal temperatures where you dethaw from being outside way longer than you should have been.

You made your way back to the office still wearing your jackets feeling the stiffness in your hands from the cold. You leaned over to checked your phone for it to light up, 7:30pm.

"Today flew by" You stretched out feeling the effects of sitting at a desk majority of the day. The cold didn't help either.

"Oh, so you never answered my question" Carmy rubbed his hands together to get some friction heat going.

"Uh... " You thought for a moment and clicked into what he was on about.

After coming to the realization that you were going to be jobless, you sat with the idea of maybe staying that way for awhile. You haven't taken any time off for summer in years. You thought if you didn't do it now that you never have another chance.

Your phone screen light up beside you on the couch, with a number you didn't recognize. You paused the movie and picked it up and hesitated for a moment before answering.

"Hello?"

"Hey, uhh.. it's Carmy" A smile immediately popped up on your face hearing the familiar voice on the other end.

It was a pleasant surprise and totally unexpected for you to hear from him. He explained the situation he was in and that he would really appreciate if you could stay for awhile to help him in any way. You thought to yourself about how it would be nice to visit an old friend. He explained he wouldn't be able to pay you right now but if he would figure something out. Money wasn't the issue. You had a nice little nest egg to fall back on for the unanticipated free summer you were going to have.

He asked if Vince would mind, giving you sometime off to help, even if it was for a couple of days. You avoided the topic and said that you could work something out. You were thankful that he didn't challenge you and accepted the answer.

"Oh staying yeah... well my flight is booked for the end of next week".

You saw a flash of disappoint in his face before he looked down at his hands. You didn't want to look too much into his reaction, but seeing him that way ping something in your chest for a split second.

"But.. if paperwork isn't sorted by then, I can always reschedule my flight" You offered with a smile.

"Yea, yeah of course. I don't wanna take you away from anythin' that you have going back home..." He trails off, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Carmy, I'm literally unemployed right now." You said bluntly glaring at him before breaking into a snicker.

"Anyway let's just wait til' the middle of the week and then I'll decide if I need more time." You explained, breaking into a yawn.

"Heard." Carmy nodded.

"Anyway, it's getting pretty late so I think it's time to close up" He stuffed his hands in this pockets, turning towards the swinging doors.

You started putting away the paperwork you were looking at, leaving the desk in a somewhat tidy state for the morning. Carmy did a round on the kitchen to double check everything was off before making his way back to the office.

It felt like nothing had changed between you two. After years of both you doing your own thing, when it came down to you both chilling, everything was the same. He watched you tidy up and could imagine this being the norm, you working here permanently. He instantly knew that you would slide right into this place. How easy it was for you to read people and get on with them. He also didn't want to have any expectation on you though.

It would be crazy to think just after 2 weeks you would even consider moving to Chicago for a job that wouldn't be paying you for God knows how long. He felt at ease when you were around him. Saying goodbye to that when you leave was going to be hard on him. But he didn't have time to lay on his feelings. There was a million things that still needed to get done in the restaurant. The restaurant that felt like it was going to crumble to the ground any second. He would be the one to witness it. He would be the one with the burden on his shoulders. Not Mikey.

Carmy pulled the door to check it was locked and stuffed the keys in his pocket. You both looked at each other giving a small smile.

"I'll see you tomorrow... Chef" You added taking a step back.

"See ya, Boss" Carmy developed an amused look turning down towards to street.

You rolled your eyes playfully and started walking further down the side walk crossing your arms, trying to keep your jacket as close to you as possible.

Carmy walked home feeling better than usual. Normally, he was always thinking about the next day and want needed to be done. What could make the restaurant more money. But, he caught himself not doing that, instead he was thinking about the evening he just spent with you.

His mind drifted back to the memories of him and you back in New York. Memories that he hasn't thought about it a long time. As much as he hated asking for help, he was glad he reached out to you. He was grateful that you were able to come out.

When he arrived home, he took off his jacket, kicked off his shoes and fell back onto the couch. He flicked through the channels not really paying attention to what he was watching. He felt his eyelids get heavy and within minutes he was asleep. It must have been the first time since moving back from New York that he fell asleep with such ease.

Chapter 3

Masterlist of other fics

#fanfic #fluff #smut #fanfiction #love #carmy berzatto #carmy the bear #the bear #carmy x reader #chicago #angst #carmen berzatto x reader #the bear fx #the bear headcanon #carmen 'carmy' berzatto #carmen berzatto x you #the bear hulu #carmy berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto x you #jeremy allen white #fuckin with the Ecosystem

[jupyt3r]

Green

Set during Act 2. Karlach needs help fixing her teddy bear and wants to air some grievances about Astarion's deal with Raphael.

He smells hot leather before he smells her blood. As if he needs either to detect her approach; she has the loudest footsteps of any of them. But soon the scent wafts verdantly in through the pinned flap of his tent, bright, grassy, and puckering. Citrus and something young and vegetal, intermingled with the tang of the infernal iron that drives it all. Completely antithetical to the tiefling’s fiery appearance: green.

Karlach clasps her hands behind her back and squats in front of the opening, blocking the heat of the fire he had been basking in. Annoyed, Astarion lays the book he's reading across his chest and looks quizzically at her.

“Hey, fangs! Oh–” she says, noticing his book, "Sorry, am I bothering you?”

"Yes.”

"Haha! You're a funny one. Anyway, um. Listen, I was wondering if you could do me a solid? Tav tells me you're not bad with a needle. Not surprising, I guess, given your propensity for pointy objects."

How could Tav have– Oh . His underwear . Well. Ignoring the means by which his embroidery skill had been revealed, Astarion raises one silver eyebrow at Karlach, bidding her to continue.

“Okay. Promise not to laugh. But do you think you can fix him?" From behind her back, she produces a threadbare stuffed toy; a bear. It's made from a thick-weighted brown knit, worn fuzzy with age, and has two glossy black buttons sewn in for eyes. The lighter colored thread used to attach them gives the impression of Xs for pupils, a dead-eyed stare, which is accurate enough to its current condition: there is a large tear partially beheading the beast, its stuffing leaking out the busted seam.

"His name is Clive,” she says morosely. Clive and Karlach turn their pleading glances on him, and Astarion can't decide who looks more pitiful.

“Where did you even get that thing?"

“I found him," she declares proudly, holding it aloft. "He got left behind in my room at Last Light; all alone, poor little bugger. So I nicked him. Figured his last friend might not be coming back any time soon.”

“Looks like it might have been better off where it was. What happened?"

She rubs at the back of her neck sheepishly. "Well, now that I won't burn him, I was. You know. Hugging him. And then Scratch walked up and wanted to play, and– Scratch is so soft , did you know?– so I was teasing him, which probably wasn't the nicest thing to do to either of them, and Scratch is really fast. And unfortunately for Clive, Scratch’s teeth aren't as soft as the rest of him." She lets out a nervous laugh. "So do you think, maybe, you could help him out?”

“I could ," he replies, propping himself up on an elbow. "I'm just not sure that's the best use of our resources while we're stuck in this… accursed wasteland. And I'm tired of cleaning up that mutt’s messes."

Karlach’s eyes shine beseechingly, lower lip jutting out. Clive bobbles miserably. Astarion grimaces, sits up, and abruptly snatches him from her hands.

"Yay! Thanks, fangs!”

He sighs, digging through his pack for his sewing kit. This is stupid. He's getting a new slash in his overclothes damn near every day, and he doesn't have the materials to spare on a toy .

And yet.

He's not able to find a similar colored thread. “Red is the closest I have," he says, crossing his legs and threading the needle through with crimson.

“That's okay. He'll have a bit of a rugged look– a cool neck scar, like someone else I know."

Astarion frowns and glances up at her. " ‘ Rugged ’ isn't exactly the image I strive to portray.”

“Oh. No, I know. I just meant your scars look cool," she clarifies awkwardly. Somehow, he doesn't think she's talking about the ones on his neck.

Earlier that day, when they'd set out from Last Light, a certain infernal visitor had been waiting in the parlor. Raphael had stripped him bare with a snap of his clawed fingers, revealing the malevolent latticework of scars encircling his back to the entire room. The whole thing had been rather violating– hence why he’s hiding in his tent instead of soaking up the heat from the fire. He curls in on himself and pierces the soft yarn through.

He's quiet as he works, deftly stitching the fabric together as he presses the bear's innards back where they belong. Karlach doesn't seem to know how to cope with silence, bouncing a leg with pent energy, practically sizzling like water boiling in a pot. Eventually, she spills over.

“So how did you get so good at that?" She peers in closer from where she's settled at the threshold of his tent, observing the fine needlework.

He pulls the needle high, closing a stitch. “I've picked up a lot of little skills over the last few centuries. This one has been particularly useful."

“Huh. I always figured you had a tailor or something, with your whole Upper City accent and, well, everything. Who knew you could get your hands dirty.”

The problem is that she really has no idea how dirty they are- or, rather, bloody. Nobody knows about that. Hells, only Tav knows about Cazador, and even then he's spared most of the… finer details.

"Yes, well. I'm full of surprises, aren't I?” he replies cryptically. He's had enough of his secrets revealed today already. “Why do you even keep this thing around?" he asks to change the subject, adjusting the bear on his lap.

"He kinda reminds me of one my mum got me when I was a kid. I was weak to nostalgia and his cute li’l face. Ain't he adorable?” She leans in to poke at the bear’s overstuffed cheeks, and Astarion swats her out of his working space.

"He's a liability, this one. Falling apart at the seams.”

“Aw, c’mon. Like you've never kept anything around for sentimental reasons?"

The scant belongings in Astarion's tent are answer enough; mostly just pillows and various rags from the road, with a few books and pilfered trinkets scattered among them. A useless silver mirror, a few chalices for wine. Nothing sentimental. “No. Not a lot to be sentimental about. I don't remember my childhood."

"O-oh. I'm sorry. I guess it was so long ago, anyway, it would be hard to remember.”

He's pretty sure that's not the reason. "Are you calling me old? I may be immortal, but I'll have you know I'm a very reasonable age for an elf. I'm certainly no relic like Halsin .”

She puts her hands up, seeing that she's dug a hole for herself. "No! Mate, I would never. You look very good for your age. Or, no, not for your age because you're not. Old. It's just. You're, what, two-hundred and fifty? That's older than I'll ever be, or, not me specifically, because, well…”

The words die on her tongue, but what's been left unsaid hangs heavily between them: She doesn't have that much time left . Dammon had given her the news shortly after turning her temperature down from scorching to sweltering . And that's why Astarion is wasting his precious floss on this ridiculous bear, because he knows how awful it would feel to be given pity, but at least he can oblige her the favor she asked.

All of the stuffing has been sewn back inside the bear’s head. Astarion begins to double back to strengthen the new seam, and he looks very intently at his work as he knits his eyebrows together and asks, “How do you do it?"

“How do I do what?" she says, pulling her knees in with her arms and resting her cheek on her bicep.

“You are so… alive . Despite everything. Despite what you've been through.” Even her blood smelled like life, lush and blooming.

"Ha. I dunno. I just can't believe that I've really made it out of Avernus, so, you know, carpe dime or whatever.”

"I just… don't understand. You're going to die.” It's not pity when he says it, only hard truth.

She hugs her knees closer and lets out a shaky breath. “I don't really want to talk about it. Better to just enjoy things while I can. Otherwise I'd just be a ghost already."

He knows all too well how it feels to be a ghost.

“You're not angry? At Gortash, at Zariel?"

Heat flares in her chest, exhausting from the vents on her shoulders and filling the tent with the inferno of her emotions. “Of course I am! I'm right pissed. And if there's anything I can do about it, then both those fuckers will get what's coming to them.”

"Good.”

"I just… have to take every good thing that comes my way for now. I’ve done some not great things in my past. I regret just standing by when Elturel fell. I hurt a lot of people for Gortash that, looking back, seem like maybe they didn't deserve it. But right now, I'm finally more than just a weapon for causing destruction. For the first time in way too long, I can touch people again. And I've got a lot of good people around me who deserve some hugs.” She offers a small smile, but Astarion shifts away minutely.

"Bear’s done,” he says, holding it out for inspection. A vermilion scar marrs the seam between its head and body; it really does look like an injury.

"Aw, Clive, you look great! Glad to see you back with the living. Hey, Astarion, what do you think about adding a detail– giving him his own vampire bite? You did bring him back to life, after all.”

He knows she's trying to make him feel better, but it's doing anything but. "I wouldn't curse him that way,” he says softly, packing up his supplies.

Karlach is uncharacteristically quiet as she fluffs Clive to redistribute his recently reintroduced stuffing, pursing her lips.

"About your master–"

“We don't have to do this." His back is to her, hands in his pack, and he can feel her stare pricking through his clothes where she now knows the scars hide.

“No, that's not fair. Nothing is fair about anything right now. But you talked to me about my shit and I'm returning the favor whether you want it or not."

"I–”

"Mama K is talking now. You can just listen, you don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to.”

Astarion is silent, but he turns and sits back down, eyes downcast like a chastised child.

Karlach continues. "Listen, I don't know anything about your master or how he treated you. But I do know what it feels like to have to serve someone you don't believe in, and to have them fuck up your body without asking. To mark it as their own. I didn't know how to bring this up earlier, but… your scars. The ones on your back. They're in Infernal, aren't they?”

He nods; Tav had been able to identify that, at least, after their… tryst.

"I picked up a little, in the Blood War. Why didn't you come to me? I'd gladly help you out as best I can. You don't have to take this deal, Astarion. You can't trust a devil.”

The thought hadn't escaped him; he figured she might be able to read it. But he wasn't sure she'd be able to decipher the full context, and if he wanted any chance at killing Cazador, then he needed to know as much as he could. And, equally as important, he didn't think he could suffer the shame of anyone at camp knowing the full story. Asking Raphael just seemed the safer option; a fair trade.

"As much as he puffs himself up, he's a cambion, not a devil. And I'm sure he'll respect his end of the bargain. I'm prepared to pay his price, whatever it may be."

“He's a creep who's preying on you because he knows how badly you want it. He's gonna demand something that will just come to bite you in the ass later. That's how it always goes. Please, just let me try. If I can't make sense of it, then go ahead and accept the deal. But let me try."

He’s frozen in indecision, unsure if he can trust her with this. "I’m not sure–”

"You want a sample?” she interrupts, gesturing to the tattooed runes peeking out from under the shoulder strap of her top; it's easy to make out, dark ink contrasting against the sudden glow from within her chest. “This one says fucking Zariel ."

Maybe she understands, he thinks. Maybe he can trust someone else with this. The thin weight of his shirt on his back feels heavier knowing that it and one word are all that stands between him and naked vulnerability. He could just say yes; he could let her look, close himself off to the fear and let himself be lulled by whatever altruistic reasons she claims. But doubt whispers from the back of his mind: she's backed into a corner just like him, if not moreso, and that makes her dangerous . They both want to live, and they're clawing at scraps with all they've got. If she needs his help someday, she'll demand it of him in return. At least the terms of Raphael's deal will be predictable. The cambion’s words echo in his mind: What's better than a devil you don't know? A devil you do.

And there's also the other thing. Astarion is a shitty person and if Karlach truly expects nothing in return, then he doesn't deserve her help. She doesn't even know the depths of his depravity, and he doesn't really feel like sharing. He's ruined, and she's not.

And so, for the first time he can remember when someone was trying to get his clothes off, Astarion says: “No."

"Okay.” She's crestfallen, but to her credit, she doesn't push it.

He expects her to get up and leave now that his task is completed and he's outright rejected her in favor of a devil, but she doesn't. She sits with him a while, her steady warmth radiating over his skin. It feels nice, if he lets himself enjoy it. Clive’s dead eyes peer dolefully at him from within the safety of her embrace.

“If he takes something that hurts you… just know that I'm always down to give a devil a good smack-down. It's kind of my specialty– this tattoo says ‘demonsbane’. Just say the word.”

Astarion thinks the words ring a little hollow, because, from his perspective, taking on Raphael in combat seems like a death sentence, but he appreciates the thought nonetheless. “I can't believe you're sitting here offering up your demon-slaying services while hugging a teddy bear."

"It's only what Clive would want for the person who patched him up.”

"He'd be more useful if he stayed well out of the reach of foul canine beasts in the future.”

"Yeah yeah, I learned my lesson. Thank you Astarion, though, really. I don't have a lot in this world aside from him and you lot so… just doing my best to keep it all together.”

She sets Clive aside and pivots to her knees, moving slowly so as to give Astarion opportunity to escape if he wants to; her tadpole broadcasts her intentions. He warrs briefly with himself but is ultimately unable to convince himself to push her away, and he winds up wrapped in her arms. He knows she's been cooled to a reasonable degree, but he still flinches, because the difference between them is so stark . Her skin blazes against his, even through his shirt, and when he finally brings himself to relax slightly, his cool cheek on her shoulder prickles from the contact. The whirr ing of her mechanical heart is strange in his ears, and all at once, he brings his own arms to grip tight to her shirt; that beating, this warmth could vanish at any moment. She was his only proof that you could go through hell and not come out completely chewed up and broken and bitter, so of course the universe couldn't allow her to slip through unscathed. It wasn't fair– but nothing ever was.

“My… master,” he starts as she pulls away, leaving him feeling bitterly cold from the loss of her. "His name is Cazador. Cazador Szarr." 

“Huh. I think I've heard that name before."

“I'm not surprised– the bastard has his claws sunk all over Baldur's Gate. He prefers to exert his influence from the shadows, but he's too ostentatious for it sometimes."

“You know," she says, thinking aloud, “he sounds like another evil arsehole I know. Gortash was always trying to expand his political influence through various shady dealings. Hey, listen. If you won't let me talk you out of that deal with Raphael, then let's make a deal of our own. You help me get revenge on Gortash, and I help you take down Cazador. I mean, I'd probably help out anyway ‘cause it just makes me fume thinking about any of my people getting hurt, but solidarity, yeah?"

Astarion flashes a fanged grin. "Now there's an agreement I can get behind. Blood for blood.” He holds out a hand cordially, and she takes it up with such force that his arm is nearly removed from his shoulder.

"That's what I'm talking about, soldier! Hah– sorry,” she says, noticing the way his face twinged at the power behind her handshake. "Been a long time since I've gotten to do that. Feels nice.”

"It does.”

There's a loud snorfling sound from behind her– she whips her head around. "Scratch! No! You leave Clive alone.” She pulls the bear out of reach of the dog’s curious nose and makes to leave the tent. "Astarion, will you throw the ball for him? He's got too much energy.”

His first instinct is to respond with a resounding No, I won't have anything to do with that filthy creature , but something within him is stirred by his conversation with Karlach. If he had to put a name on it– hope. He decides that he's going to try not to be a ghost any longer. So he throws the ball.

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[anonymousewrites]

A Study of the Heart and Brain (Book 3) Chapter Eight

Father Figure! Sherlock Holmes x Teen! Reader

Chapter Eight: Bloody Guardsman

Summary: Sherlock tells a story of one of John, (Y/N), and his cases.

A while ago…

            Sherlock stood in front of the wall of wedding information he’d compiled for the wedding. He had approached preparation like a case, with categories for wine, catering, transport, and rehearsal. Sherlock had been so honored that John had chosen him as his best man that he had decided nothing would stop him from making sure the entire day was perfect (which inevitably meant it wouldn’t be, but the heart was there).

             Mary had a 3D model of the reception venue in front of her, John was on his phone (the stress was getting to him), and (Y/N) had the guest and RSVP list in front of them.

            “Need to work on your half of the church, Mary. Looking a bit thin,” said Sherlock.

            “Ah, the orphan’s lot. Friends—that’s all I have. Lots of friends,” said Mary. She smiled, and (Y/N) cocked their head. There was something in the muscles that twitched in her face, something in the size of her smile, that put (Y/N) off.

            “Schedule the organ music to begin at precisely 11:48,” said Sherlock, and (Y/N) focused back on the task at hand.

            “But the rehearsal’s not for another two weeks,” said Mary.

            “I thought people wanted everything to be ready soon,” said (Y/N), looking up from the lists they were correcting.

            Mary sighed. “Let’s get back to the reception. (Y/N), there’s John’s cousin. Top table?” she asked, gesturing to the RSVP card.

            (Y/N) glanced at the name and card. “No, she hates you. Doesn’t even like thinking about you.”

            “Seriously?” asked Mary, surprised.

            “Second-class post, cheap card bought at a petrol station, last minute, the stamp has three attempts at licking, so she unconsciously retained saliva. All signs of dislike,” said (Y/N).

            “Ah. Let’s stick her by the bogs,” said Mary.

            (Y/N) tossed the RSVP card into the pile that had been designated as the worst guests (aka: should be shoved as far away from the bride and groom as possible)

            “Who else hates me?” asked Mary.

            “(Y/N) made a list,” said Sherlock. (Y/N) held it out silently.

            “Oh, great—thanks!” said Mary with faux-brightness as she took it.

            “Priceless painting nicked. Looks interesting,” said John, looking at his phone.

            “Table four?” said Mary, looking at Sherlock and (Y/N).

            “Done,” said Sherlock.

            John chuckled as he looked at another case in the inbox. “ ‘My husband is three people.’ ”

            “Table five,” continued Mary.

            “Major James Sholto. Who’s he?” asked (Y/N).

            “Oh, John’s old commanding officer. I don’t think he’s coming,” said Mary.

            “He’ll be there,” said John.

            “Well, he needs to RSVP, then,” said Mary.

            “He’ll be there,” said John firmly. He looked at Sherlock and repeated the latest case possibility he’d found. “ ‘My husband is three people.’ It’s interesting. Says he has three distinct patterns of moles on his skin.”

            “Identical triplets—one in half a million births. Solved it without leaving the flat,” said Sherlock, and then he got back to the wedding planning. “Now, serviettes.” He reached under the coffee table and pulled out a tray with two folded napkins. “Swan or Sydney Opera House?”

            Mary stared in surprise. “Where’d you learn to do that?!” she exclaimed.

            “Many unexpected skills required in the field of investigation—”

            “Fibbing, Sherlock,” said Mary, calling him out immediately.

            “I once broke an alibi by demonstrating the exact severity of—”

            “I’m not John, I can tell when you’re fibbing,” said Mary.

            “Okay—I learned it on YouTube,” said Sherlock.

            “You’re very good,” said (Y/N). Mary had surprising skills at times. She was…smarter, or at least more preceptive and aware, than most people.

            “Thanks,” said Mary, smiling. She looked at Sherlock. “Um, Opera House, please. Ooh, hang on. I’m buzzing.” She pulled out her phone and headed towards the hall.

            John stood. “If that’s Beth, it’s probably for me, too. Hang on.”

            “What do we do while they’re gone?” asked (Y/N).

            “Fold,” said Sherlock, tossing napkins to them. They had watched the videos while he did, so they could do it.

            The pair sat down and mechanically began folding. (Y/N) liked the repetitive motion. In the midst of all the chaos and planning, it was calming.

            John finally walked back into the room and stared at the mass of Opera-House-napkins piling up around the father and kid.

            “That just sort of…happened,” said Sherlock in response to the stare.

            “Sherlock, (Y/N), um…I’ve…” John sighed and sat down. (Y/N) and Sherlock exchanged glances and followed him. “I’ve smelled eighteen different perfumes. I’ve sampled nine different slices of cake, which all tasted identical. I like the bridesmaids in purple—”

            “Lilac,” said (Y/N).

            “—Lilac. Um, there are no decisions left to make. I don’t even understand the decisions that we have made. I’m faking opinions, and it’s exhausting,” sighed John. “So, please, before I have to do anything else, pick something.” He held out his phone to them, on the page to show case offers. “Anything. Pick one.”

            “Pick what?” asked Sherlock.

            “A case. Your inbox is bursting. Just…get me out of here,” said John.

            “You want to go out on a case? Now?” questioned Sherlock.

            “Please, for me. I just need a break,” sighed John. (Really, he knew (Y/N) and Sherlock needed one since they were working way too hard on this).

            As dutiful friends as ever, Sherlock and (Y/N) nodded.

            “We’ll get you out of this,” said (Y/N) while Sherlock looked at the options.

            “ ‘Dear Mr. Holmes,’ ” he read aloud. “ ‘My name is Bainbridge. I’m a Private in Her Majesty’s Household Guard. I’m writing to you about a personal matter one I don’t care to bring before my superiors—it would sound so trivial—but I think someone’s stalking me. I’m used to tourists—it’s part of the job—but this is different. Someone’s watching me. He’s taking pictures of me every day. Don’t want to mention it to my major, but its’ really preying on my mind.’ ”

            (Y/N) hummed in consideration and flipped over their lollipop.

            “Uniform fetish,” decided Sherlock. “All the nice girls like a soldier.”

            “I think the phrase is ‘sailor,’ ” said John. “And Bainbridge thinks his stalker is a bloke.”

            “It could be a gay man, but the odds aren’t exactly in that idea’s favor,” said (Y/N).

            “Let’s go and investigate, please?” said John, looking between the two detectives.

            “Elite guard,” mused Sherlock.

            “Forty enlisted men and officers…Wonder why this grenadier is special,” said (Y/N).

            John grinned. They were in. “Now you two are talking.”

            “Okay,” said Sherlock, handing back the phone to John.

            (Y/N) stood up from the ground and walked to the door with John and Sherlock. Mary entered the room at the same moment.

            “Bye,” she said into the phone.

            “Er, we’re just going to…I need, um, Sherlock and (Y/N) to help me choose some, uh, socks,” said John.

            “Ties,” said Sherlock at the same moment.

            “Pocket squares,” said (Y/N) simultaneously.

            “Why don’t we go with ties?” said Mary, obviously amused.

            “Yeah…” said John, laughing nervously.

            “I mean, I know (Y/N) still hasn’t bought one,” said Mary.

            “I’ve been a bit busy,” said (Y/N), shrugging and going along with the lie they all knew was one.

            “And you want it to go well with the theme of the wedding,” said Mary.

            “Right,” said Sherlock, nodding.

            “It’ll take a while, right?” continued Mary in amusement.

            “My coat in there?” asked John, walking to the kitchen.

            “Yes,” said Mary, smiling.

            “Just going to take him out to run him down,” said Sherlock.

            “You said you’d find him a case,” said Mary, grinning. She was playing them all (though, by the look on their face, (Y/N) was a little more aware than the others that Mary was orchestrating time for John and Sherlock to relax and have fun).

            “Come on, you two,” said John, pulling on his coat and opening the door.

            “Coming,” said (Y/N) and Sherlock going after him.

            Mary gave them a thumbs up and happily closed the door for some peace and quiet of her own.

l

            The trio arrived at the barracks, and Sherlock and (Y/N) let John walk ahead since he was the veteran among them. He held up his military ID to the duty sergeant at the barrack entrance.

            “We’re here to see Private Stephen Bainbridge,” said John.

            “He’s on duty right now, sir, but I’ll certainly let him know when he’s free,” said the sergeant.

            “And when will that be?” asked Sherlock.

            “Another hour,” said the sergeant.

            John, Sherlock, and (Y/N) left the door to the barracks and headed to a bench facing the gates. They sat down, leaned back, and waited.

            Eventually, Sherlock spoke up and remarked upon something that had been on his mind since the morning. “So, why don’t you see him anymore?” he asked.

            “Who?” asked John.

            “Your previous commander, Sholto,” said Sherlock.

            “Previous commander,” repeated John.

            “You ex,” said (Y/N).

            “Previous suggests I have a current commander,” said John. He eyed Sherlock. “Which I don’t.”

            “Sure,” said (Y/N).

            “He was decorated, wasn’t he? A war hero,” said Sherlock.

            “Not to everyone. He led a team of crows into battle,” said John.

            “Crows?” asked (Y/N).

            “New recruits. It’s standard procedure, break the new boys in—but it went wrong,” said John. He looked down. “They all died; he was the only survivor. The press and the families gave him hell. He gets more death threats than you.”

            “Probably not from worse people,” remarked (Y/N), and Sherlock nodded in agreement.

            “Why have you two suddenly taken an interest in another human being?” asked John suspiciously.

            “Just chatting,” said Sherlock. John raised an eyebrow in complete disbelief. “Won’t be trying that again,” decided Sherlock.

            “Changing the subject completely,” said John, saving everyone from embarrassment or vulnerability. “You two know it won’t alter anything, right, with me and Mary getting married? We’ll still be doing this.”

            “Oh, good,” said Sherlock, and (Y/N) nodded.

            “If you two were worried,” said John.

            “Wasn’t worried,” said Sherlock.

            John sighed and looked down at his hands. “See, the thing about Mary—she has completely turned my life around, changed everything. But, for the record, over the last few years there are three people who have don’t that…and the other two are—” He looked back up and found that Sherlock and (Y/N) had disappeared. “—complete dickheads.”

l

            (Y/N) and Sherlock marched behind the guards playfully to get into the building. Honestly, (Y/N) was surprised the guards weren’t guarding that well, but they weren’t about to complain.

            The pair took off the hats they’d put on and fixed their flattened hair before continuing on through the halls. Two guards in khaki army uniforms were on patrol, and (Y/N) and Sherlock hid around the side of the stairs until they were gone. They crept onwards, and they came across a room with voices within. (Y/N) opened the door for a moment and peeked inside. It was a group of soldiers chatting and relaxing. They closed the door, shook their head, and continued on with Sherlock.

            “Hey, you two!” shouted a guard.

            Damn, I guess some of them are good at their jobs, thought (Y/N).

l

            “Sir, caught these two snooping around,” said the sergeant who had found Sherlock and (Y/N) as he shoved them into the changing rooms of the guards.

            A body lay on the ground, wet and soapy, clearly having died while in the processing of showering. John was already standing inside, and judging by his and Major Reed’s (they had noticed his office earlier, and seeing as he was the man in charge, it was definitely him) expressions, they were all in trouble.

            “Is that what all this was about?” demanded Reed, glaring at John. “Distracting me so these two could get in here and kill Bainbridge?”

            (Y/N) cocked their head. Their client was dead, and that meant there was something more to this case than met the eye.

            “Kill him with what? Where’s the weapon?” said Sherlock, instantly dispelling the idea they had killed anyone (and making sure (Y/N) wasn’t pushed around anymore).

            “What?” asked Reed, furrowing his brow.

            “Search us. We don’t have any weapons,” said (Y/N).

            “Bainbridge was on parade. He came off duty five minutes ago. When’s this supposed to have happened?” asked John.

            “Those two obviously stabbed him before he got into the shower,” said Reed.

            “No,” said (Y/N).

            “No?!” cried Reed incredulously.

            “He’s soaking wet, and there’s still shampoo in his hair. He got into the shower, and then someone stabbed him,” said Sherlock.

            “The cubicle was locked from the inside, sir. I had to break it open,” said the sergeant that had come across the body.

            “One of you must’ve climbed over the top,” said Reed stubbornly.

            “We’d be wet, too,” said (Y/N), crossing their arms.

            “Major, please,” snapped John, his voice full of authority and irritation. “I’m John Watson, Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers. Three years in Afghanistan, a veteran of Kandahar, Helmand, and Bart’s bloody Hospital. Let me examine this body.”

            Reed stared at John for a moment before looking at Bainbridge’s body and then back again. He nodded sharply.

            “Thank you,” said John in exasperation, and he knelt beside the body. Sherlock and (Y/N) leaned over him.

            “Suicide?” asked the duty sergeant.

            “No, the weapon again—no knife,” said Sherlock.

            (Y/N) cocked their head as they noticed someone and leaned closer. “There’s a wound in his abdomen, isn’t there?”

            John nodded. “Very fine, but yeah.”

            “Man stabbed to death. No murder weapon. Door locked from the inside. Only one way in or out of there,” mused Sherlock.

            (Y/N) peeled back one of his eyelids to check for any other signs of death. A soft breath landed on their hand. They blinked. “He’s still breathing.”

            Everyone’s head snapped towards them.

            “Oh my god!” exclaimed the sergeant.

            “What do we do?” asked Sherlock, looking at John.

            “Give me your scarf,” said John, in complete doctor mode.

            “What?” asked Sherlock.

            “Now,” said John, and Sherlock unwound his scarf and handed it to John. He looked at the sergeants and Reed. “Call an ambulance.”

            “What?” asked one of the sergeants.

            “Now!” ordered John, and the sergeant jumped to obey while John pressed the scarf to Bainbridge’s wound. “Nurse, press here, hard.”

            “Nurse?” said Sherlock and (Y/N).

            “I’m making do,” said John, reaching out with one hand and dragging Sherlock closer so he could put pressure on the wound. “Keep that on there.” He moved back to Bainbridge’s head. “Stephen? Stephen, stay with us.”

            (Y/N) looked at Sherlock and John as they saved Bainbridge’s life. Their eyes flicked from his face as he tried to breath to the wound Sherlock was pressing on. It was in a rather specific place. Long, thin, precisely made…If only (Y/N) could put it together.

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[sporadically-writing]

Georgia Green

Basics

Full Name: Georgia Green

Nicknames: Haywire

Age: 31 in Falcon and the Winter Soldier, Season 1

Sexual Orientation: Straight Romantic Asexual

Appearance

Skin Tone: Fair

Eye Color: Brown

Hair Color: Auburn

Hairstyle: Cropped short, lays how it wants

Makeup: Nah

Build: Works out enough to protect herself and remain in shape

Height: 5’4”

Style: Wears a lot of black and blue, mostly comfortable hoodies, jeans and converse.

Personality

General Personality Traits: Private, Sarcastic, Resilient

Strengths: Intelligent, Quick, Loyal

Flaws: Antisocial, Tempered, Nosy

Habits and Mannerisms: She types when she’s bored, sometimes she gets back up to hacking but thanks to the Sokovia Accords that’s a bit difficult for her. She’ll just open her laptop and type on the keyboard just to fiddle with her fingers; She sits hunched over, its a problem; Itches her forehead when she’s thinking; Bites on her tongue when nervous or agitated

Secrets: None that haven’t already been shared with the greater superhero community. She used to hack for the highest bidder, now she does it for superheroes

Regrets: Not allowing herself to have a normal life, friends and partners and all that

Skills/Talents: Typing quickly; hacking systems; coding; location triangulation; computers; electrical engineering; tinkering; basic combat training

Likes: Puzzles, technology, fixing things, spying/people watching, pretzels rods, headbanging to songs

Dislikes: Social gatherings/parties/dances, being without her technology, controlling governments/systems

Sense of Humor: Sarcastic comments

Guilty Pleasure: She eats little spoonfuls of frosting

Defining Moment: Assembling her electric batons to aid in the taking down of the helicarriers

Relationships

Friends: Steve Rodgers, Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Maria Hill, Natasha Romanoff

Family: Did not ever know her parents as she was placed in the foster system

Enemies: HYDRA, John Walker, Flag Smashers, Madripoor Assassins

Lovers: Bucky Barnes (eventually)

Relationship Status: Single. Not looking, thanks.

Reputation: Some say she does good work, the others say she’s a horrendous bi-; Those who really know her admire her for her loyalty and her dedication to the causes she now fights for

Miscellaneous

Current Residence: The Bronx, New York

Collections: Wires, tools and various tinkering equipment; computers, technology, flash drives, hard drives; dad caps and soft dark hoodies

Accent: American, North

Voice: Crisp and authoritative

Signature Quote: “Leave me alone, I’m busy”

Song: TBD

Backstory

Growing up without a family and without anyone really to stick up for her, Georgia fell into an antisocial and less than legal lifestyle. She taught herself how to extract information from secure places and then sold that information off to whoever could pay her the most.

All of this changed when she got on S.H.I.E.L.D.’s radar though. Nick Fury gave her an ultimatum, she could either use her skills for good at S.H.I.E.L.D., or she could go to prison. A non choice really but she would be lying if she said she didn’t like using her powers for good instead of evil.

She’s on the clock when Loki attacks, her skills employed to help track him down but she isn’t given Avenger status until the very organization she works for becomes a threat to world security.

Fury calls on her again and she codes the program necessary to take down the Helicarriers. When the job is done, Georgia offers to help Steve and Sam in the search for the former Winter Soldier. She hadn’t ever really had a family or friends and it felt good to have a little network of folks.

That family is threatened though when the Sokovia Accords rear their ugly head. Georgia didn’t like them for multiple reasons, the main one being that if she stepped slightly outside of a little box they painted for her, she’d end up in prison. She had left her life of crime behind back in 2012 and she didn’t take to kindly to the notion of being put in a cell for doing what was right. It was that attitude of government that had spurned her on to her criminal career in the first place. Now if she tried to help people in a way a handful of people in a room didn’t like she’d face consequences? No, she didn’t think so.

She sides with Steve of course, helping Sharon to give Cap’s team the information and aid they need to accomplish their goals and stay hidden. She would have fought with them then but her pet project “Haywire” wasn’t quite ready yet. Being on the run for two years gave her plenty of time however.

When the time comes again to defend the Earth, this time from a purple man eager to assert his will on the entire universe, “Haywire” is finished. She takes up that superhero moniker along with two electric batons and charges into battle. However, her S.H.I.E.L.D. training and electrical engineering could not have prepared her for what awaited her in Wakanda. The next thing she knows she wakes up to fight again five years later.

Tony Stark died to save the universe and Steve Rodgers settles down in the past after cleaning up the mess. Georgia doesn’t blame Steve for leaving, his fight was finished. Hell, she thought hers was too, until a beloved symbol is given to someone else and an old friend asks for her help in tracking down a new threat to peace, The Flag Smashers.

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Be prepared to work hard and have fun! Learn To Skate Baby Blades Beginner HockeyLearn to skate with us this Fall! Registration is now open. We offer ice skating classes at five different rinks in Western New York. Welcome to Skate Great! | The largest Learn to Skate Program in Buffalo and WNY Our Classes We provide classes for beginner through advanced levels. Please email us at if you have any questions. ONLINE REGISTRATION IS NOW OPEN!! Semester 5: July 12th - August 23rd (7-week session) 6:30-8:00pm. LEARN TO SKATE this summer with The Skating Club of Central New York Our next session begins on Tuesday, July 12th. Visit WebsiteSkateboarding-Lessons of Buffalo was developed to help motivated youth demographic become involved in a healthy activity and to keep kids out of drugs and violence. If you are interested in more information about advertising opportunities and becoming a sponsor at North Buffalo Rink, please contact Nick Price at [phone].

#Oven timer clock full#

For those youngsters 8 years old and younger, new to organized hockey and prepared and eager to take their initial steps, this full season class of fun and challenge is instructed in an environment of encouragement and begins in October and runs through March.Directions Public Skating Thank you to Our Sponsors Please support our sponsors. More Info.When: Febru 11:00 am - 3:00 pm Where: Hennepin Community Center, 24 Ludington St, Buffalo, NY 14206Whether you want to skate on ice or land, learn basic drills, tips and routines with a first-timer skate lesson in Buffalo, NY. The adult curriculum is designed for beginning and experienced skaters who wish to improve their skills. Learn to Speed Skate introduces skaters to the basics of speed skating and provides motivation to continue improving skating skills.

#Oven timer clock

[alterrune]

Operation Hounds Slumber

Mission 3 of 6

Burnway’s Legacy Squadron alongside its leader has a large stockpile of bio weapons called the Eclipse Virus that they plan to unleash onto a city in France. This virus is said to be able to burn through skin and destroy inner organs when inhaled. They’ve set up this stockpile in a tidal basin, and they’ll be using an eclipse missile to launch the bio weapon. Eliminate the squadron's leader and the bio weapon supplies. A squad of GEOGRAM soldiers equipped with specially designed hazmat suits will accompany you.

Complications:

Contaminated Area: Burnway’s Legacy released its virus in the tidal basin for protection. The operatives are wearing protective armor to counteract the bio weapons. If your suit gets destroyed, there’s no saving you from death.

Enforcers: Hostile Elite agents and operatives are in the area. They are more resilient and more skilled.

Be careful, these guys are the real deal.

Automated Defenses: Nicholas and Justin have set up automated turrets and robotics in the area. These auto defenses will be harder to get past and cannot be hacked.

Achievement after completion

Two Pair

CHAPTER 2, ACT 8: GOING VIRAL

(This time, the CSB and I are in a GEOGRAM transport truck instead of Charles' helicopter, done so that Charles wouldn't risk being infected. Laurence, wearing a hazmat suit alongside us, gives us our briefing.)

Alright, here's the plan. The toxin currently in the tidal basin is one that I created, which means I also know how to completely neuter its' effects. You five will fight them as a distraction while I head to the basin itself and render the chemical completely harmless.

Copy that, Laurence. Let's do this.

(Alter kicks the door down, and the five of us start taking out what's left of Laurence's [former] army. Laurence, meanwhile, heads to the basin, chemical beakers in hand.)

A little of this...a bit of that...a smidge of this....and now we pour it into the basin.

(A plume of smoke erupts from the basin, and thanks to Laurence's chemical mixture, the toxin is rendered completely harmless.)

Let's get outta here, guys!

(We all run for the truck, and sucessfully escape with our mission a success.)

Nice work, Laurence!

Yeah, you really helped us out there.

Thanks, guys. It was the least I could do after I...well, y'know.

CHAPTER 2, ACT 8 COMPLETE!

ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED: Two Pair

DISPLAYING ACT EPILOUGE...

WHAT DO YOU MEAN, THE TOXIN ISN'T TOXIC ANYMORE, NICK?!

(Justin and Nick are seen at the tidal basin the next morning, with Justin completely enraged at their toxin completely detoxified.)

I just told you, Justin. It's completely neutralized. It won't be of use to us anymore.

Wait, don't tell me. Is there a note somewhere? From Kyle, perhaps?

Yes, but not only from Kyle. Laurence Burnway also signed this.

------

Hey guys! Thought we'd given up, had you? Well think again, dipshits. You should know by now that I always rise up to a challenge.

Indeed. By the way, it's Laurence Burnway here. Remember me? That toxin you had stored in that basin was mine, so I knew exactly how to neutralize it. Kyle's right, you truly are idiots!

I hope you had fun without me, because now I'm back. And this time, I'm gonna stay for as long as possible.

Sincerely,

-Kyle Gibbons ✍🏼

-Laurence Burnway 🔥

------

Fucking hell...Laurence went with them.

Yeah, that is a big tactical advantage for them. But we could still win this, Justin.

...yeah...you're right, Nick. We can still end this before it spirals out of control more than it already has. Time to continue.

END OF ACT EPILOUGE

#altering the outcome #ask irl!alterrune #ask the ato cast #ask laurence burnway #the colorstreak battalion #operation: hounds slumber #end of chapter two act eight

[crackedoutwalnut]

Sleep (Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader)

Summary: Y/N has been struggling with a case for three days and refuses to sleep until she gains headway. Natasha isn't having any of her crap and forces reader to sleep.

Warnings: Just fluff

Word count: 1,600

A/N: I originally posted this on my ao3 account and decided to post it here as well :)

It had been a week since the terrorist threats had been made on live television and three days since you had been assigned to finding information on the hostile organization known as Anubis. You were S.H.I.E.L.D's youngest and most skilled hacker. They had recruited you just over a year ago when your best friend, Peter Parker, suggested you to Nick Fury. You and Peter had met your freshman year of university; he was a smart young man, if a little goofy. The two of you hit it off immediately, and when he found out how skilled you were with computers, he immediately suggested you join S.H.I.E.L.D.

This seemed to have been a mistake considering you had been up for the better part of 72 hours and still haven't managed to get anything on these assholes. No matter how many times you analyzed the video, nor how many government databases and archives you cross-referenced, there was nothing about Anubis anywhere. The man in the video had been wearing an intricate black mask in the shape of a jackal, the animal symbol for Anubis, the god of death and mummification. You spent an entire evening alone researching Egyptian mythology and how the hell that could tie into a terrorist organization. However, seeing as Anubis has no digital trail or relation to any other hostile organization, your insomnia-addled brain failed to make any connections.

Groaning, you scrubbed at your face and took a sip of your now cold coffee. A total of four coffee cups, two Monsters, and a Redbull now lay empty on your desk. The caffeine did nothing for your exhaustion at this point; however, it was either that or go to sleep. You drained your coffee to the last drop.

Looking down at the bottom of your now empty Avengers mug, you sighed and stood from your desk. Shuffling out of your room, you trudged to the kitchen on the other side of your floor. You readily accepted Natasha's offer to share a floor with you in the tower back when the two of you first started dating. The prices of staying in the fancy university dormitories your school offered were outrageous, even for a S.H.I.E.L.D employee. You two often slept in Natasha's room, despite having a separate bedroom. Your eyes felt like lead at the memories of cuddling up with your girlfriend under a pile of blankets and pillows. Natasha usually did not like sleeping with more than a single blanket finding the heat stifling; however, she usually gave in easily when you pulled her down into the fluffy pile. Rubbing your eye with the side of your fist, you pushed the cozy memories aside and set your mug under the Keurig. Blindly you reached out to grab a coffee pod from a rack to the left of the coffee machine. Your drowsy limbs allowed the pod to slip from your fingers, rolling under the counter.

"Shit," you cursed, crouching down to look for the coffee. After a few moments of clumsily looking for the pod, you finally grasped it and went to stand.

"I've been looking for that shirt," a voice rasped sleepily.

You jumped and whirled around to see Natasha leaning against the kitchen counter. Her shoulder-length red hair was ruffled, and the plain black tank top she wore was askew. You looked down at the Captain America t-shirt that hung down to your bare thighs, "Didn't you steal this shirt from Steve?" you asked with a raised brow.

Natasha shrugged, "He never noticed, so it's mine fair and square."

Turning to face the coffee machine once again, you inserted the coffee pod and pushed the start button. "I'm not sure that's how it works." Natasha chuckled and strode up behind you. She wrapped her arms around your middle, kissing the side of your head. You hummed and leaned back against her, feeling the toned muscles of her stomach and biceps supporting you. She was firm but soft, like an expensive mattress. On lazy days you loved to read with your head resting against her chest. She would idly thread her fingers through your hair and listen to you softly whisper the words on the page. Sighing you, nuzzled the back of your head against the crook of her neck. Your eyes slipped shut as her fingers lightly traced your stomach.

"Where have you been? I have barely seen you these past three days."

"Busy with the Anubis case."

She spun you around lightly and inspected you, her brows furrowed slightly. "You look awful."

You snorted and nudged her, "Thanks, Babe."

She raised a brow, "When was the last time you slept?"

"I took a nap around lunch." You didn't mention that it had only been an hour long for fear of being on the receiving end of the assassin's wrath.

"Y/N..." she warned lightly. "you can't go that long without sleep. It isn't healthy."

You stepped away from her and shrugged, "I'm fine, I just need to clear a few more things up about these assholes, and then I will rest, I promise." You turned around and grabbed the steaming coffee cup. However, Natasha grabbed it from you and set it behind her on the counter. Groaning in protest, you went to reach behind her to grab it. "Nat, come on, I'm fine."

"You look terrible, Y/N," Natasha argued, grabbing your arms gently. "I know you want to prove yourself to Fury and the rest; however, you are of no use to anyone if you are too tired to do your job."

You huffed and looked down at the tiled floor beneath you. She was right, as always. Your mind was foggy and slow, making it hard to do anything productive. A couple of times, you drifted off at your desk. Not that you were going to admit any of that to her, though. "Fine, I will take a nap," you conceded, "But, you have to wake me up at 6. Got it?"

Natasha glanced at the oven clock that read 2:45 before nodding her agreement, "Alright, now let's get you to bed," She wrapped an arm around you and guided you to her room. Inside her sparsely decorated room, she had gathered three extra blankets as if knowing you were going to be joining her. You cursed her for being so persuasive. She laid down under the many blankets and gently pulled you down with her. The moment your body hit the mattress, you felt your body turn leaden. Relief crept through your bones as you leaned into the warm comfort. Natasha wrapped her arms around you and pulled your limp body against her front. You went slack as you felt her soft hands stroke up and down your sides. Your girlfriend pressed a kiss to the base of your neck and hummed contently. A cozy feeling settled in your chest as you let your eyes slip closed.

"One of these days, I'm going to convince you to let me be the big spoon," you joked drowsily.

She snorted and laid another kiss to the top of your head, "In your dreams." You rolled over and burrowed your head under Natasha's chin, her red curls tickling your cheeks. You wrapped an arm around her waist and slung a leg over her own. She chuckled and tightened her grip around you before tucking you more firmly against her. "You're too much of a koala to be a big spoon," she murmured against the top of your head. Her hand crept under your shirt and started tracing imaginary shapes against your back.

You huffed and nuzzled against the column of her neck. "We'll see," you slurred drowsily. Your eyes were now sealed shut with exhaustion and your limbs too heavy to move.

"Shhh, go to sleep," Natasha whispered, squeezing you gently.

"Remember, 6 am..." you trailed off to sleep before finishing the thought.

"We'll see," she murmured.

When you woke up, you found Natasha typing away on her laptop next to you. She wore different clothes than the ones she wore earlier that morning, sweatpants and a red hoodie. You groaned and sat up, rubbing your eyes. "I thought you were going to wake me up?" You questioned, shooting her an accusatory look.

Natasha looked up and smirked, "Oops, my bad. I guess I forgot," she shrugged innocently.

"Natasha, I was serious; I have so much work to do," you complained, moving to get out of bed. Checking the alarm clock on the bedside table, you gasped when it read 3 pm.

Before you could fully slip out from under the blankets, Natasha set her laptop aside and pulled you on top of her. You yelped in surprise as your head fell back onto her lap. "Come on, stay in bed with me. You have three hours until 6 anyways."

You scowled, "That is not the 6 o'clock I was referring to, and you know it."

Natasha grinned and shrugged, "You never specified; how was I supposed to know which one you were talking about?"

"You're an asshole," you complained.

She poked her lip out in mock sympathy and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, "Oh, I know I'm terrible, aren't I? Making sure my girlfriend is well-rested and not overdosing on caffeine, simply awful."

"I'm glad you agree," you muttered, struggling to stand up off her lap.

Natasha wrapped two strong arms around your middle and pulled you further against her, "Come on, three more hours," she moved so that her lips grazed your ear, "I'll make it up to you, I promise."

You melted at her tone and sighed, "Fine, but if you don't wake me up at 6 pm, I swear I'm breaking up with you."

Your girlfriend kissed your cheek and nuzzled against you, "Sure you will."

#black widow x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #avengers x reader #wlw #lesbian #marvel #black widow #natasha romonova #mcu

[s1utspeare]

Plz do Midsummer next, I want to know who are all the fairies and and WHO IS TOM SNOUT THE WALL?????

🙏🙏🙏

Thank you i love you I’m so excited for the Shakespeare discourse. 16 yo Shakespeare-in-the-Park me is LIVING

EDIT: WAIT SHIT I JUST REALIZED YOU NEVER SPECIFIED IF YOU WANTED THE DMUTUALBJs OR THE ACTUAL DMBJ CHARACTERS. OH MY GOSH. I’M SCREAMING. THIS HAS BEEN POSTED FOR TWO MINUTES AND I DON’T EVEN KNOW IF IT’S WHAT YOU WANTED. OH FUCK. OH FUCK. UHHHHHHH. UM. WOW. OKAY. I’M SO FUCKING SORRY FOR THIS. 

OH???? YOU WANT MIDSUMMER????? YOU WANT FUCKING MIDSUMMER???? excellent

Okay, so first off, my ideal Midsummer would be gay (obviously) and involve a lot of playing with space and audience and stuff. Like, I would want it to be in the square and have all the seats on the same level/have the audience actually on the stage, so that when the Lovers are running around in the woods, and the fairies and Puck are doing their thing, they’re literally intermingling with the audience. Athens would be in a separate playing space, for both the beginning and the end, and the Players (with the exception of Bottom) would never get to mingle in the audience, because they are so fully enshrouded in their own acting and the world of the play that they are blind to the fact that they’re simultaneously playing and being played. At the end of the play, Puck would step up into that separate playing space to indicate physically that the play is done, they are no longer intermingling with us, and we are now separated from this reality that they have created over the course of the play (this has nothing to do with y’all, I’m just using this opportunity to nerd out about my ideal production specs lmao) and thereby physically releasing us from that space. 

BUT THAT’S BESIDE THE POINT. NOW. I’M SHIFTING INTO DIRECTING MODE AND CASTING THIS SHOW USING THE DMUTUALBJs, THE TAG OF WHICH I’M STEALING FROM SIERRA (also sorry i do not have the skills nor the patience to edit y’all’s icons on characters like they did I am not that good @jockvillagersonly i would die for u). 

HERE WE GO:

First up: the Lovers

Hermia: “though she be but little, she is fierce!” lmao I’m sorry @cross-d-a that’s gotta be you. I love Hermia bc she’s very sweet most of the time, except when she’s been wronged, and then YOU BETTER WATCH OUT CAUSE SHE’S GOING OFF, and I feel like Cross imbues that energy very well. She’ll cut a bitch for her friends, but is also the loveliest person you’ve ever met. 

Helena: Helena’s got to be @humanlighthouse. Sorry, I don’t make the rules. Not only do I want her to step on me, I also think that she’d be willing to throw down in a forest. Plus, she and Cross would have very good stage energy, I think. 

Demetrius: ok here’s where things get interesting, cause you remember when I said I wanted this to be gay right? SO that means we’re playing this with underlying currents of *internalized homophobiaaaa* which means that Demetrius is actually going after Lysander instead of Hermia; or so she thinks. She’s chasing after the closest male-identifying person in the group, but REALLY wants Hermia, and under THAT ends up wanting Helena, who she’s really intimidated by actually, which is why she’s so rude to her in the first parts of the play. And who will play this wonderfully complex Demetria? None other than @vishcount. Again, the STAGE CHEMISTRY BABES. also I think vish would bring a very lovely complexity to this role. 

Lysander: Lysander is actually like my favorite character in this play??? I have no idea why, but I really love him. He’s very endearing and sweet, and just wants to make his girlfriend happy. So for this role I’m casting @psychic-waffles, who I feel would embody this character very well bc I love Jack. 

Alright NEXT: the Players

Peter Quince: they’re the only writer in this thing, so I feel like this HAS to be @merinnan. Also, Meri-jie tries to wrangle crowds of dumbasses everyday in the Discord server and does an INCREDIBLE job, so I feel like Head Writer/Head Bitch works very well here. 

Nick Bottom: who ELSE would I cast except for @jockvillagersonly. Not only are they funny enough to portray this absolute COMEDY role, I feel like they would really ham it up onstage, which is what Nick Bottom needs. Also I would like to lovingly force them into getting more sleep, so if rehearsals for the scenes where Bottom is Passed The Fuck Out go a little long, who’s gonna know??? 

Francis Flute: Francis Flute holds a special place in my heart bc in my university’s production of Midsummer, one of my friends played him, and he was funny as fuck, so for this role I’m going with @bookjoyworm. I think Joy absolutely would be fantastic as Thisbe, and have a very dramatic and tragic death scene (which, coincidentally, is often the only part of the Play Within A Play that’s actually acted well, and I think that Joy could pull off that bait-and-switch). 

Tom Snout: YOU KNOW WHAT NOPEY, IT’S FUCKING YOU. YOU ARE THE WALL. LITERALLY THE FUNNIEST FUCKING SHIT I HAVE EVER SEEN IN MY ENTIRE DAMN LIFE. I LOVE TOM SNOUT AND I LOVE YOU. 

Snug the Joiner: Snug the Joiner is literally just a cutie patootie trying their best. I love them, and I also love @pissmeoffanddie, so that’s who we’re going with on this one. They would be a very fierce lion, I just know it (but not too fierce, so as not to frighten the ladies!!!!)

 Robin Starveling: Moonshine! This so obviously has to be @undyingsunshine; it’s literally in the name!! They both fucking shine! I’m! Also I genuinely love Robin Starveling a lot too lasighaldkfjaldf. 

The Athenians: 

Theseus: all hail the kiiinnnngggggg. Obviously this is @xcziel. I would perform a thousand plays for @xcziel. A million. A thousand million. Mwah. My liege. 

Hippolyta: BOSS-ASS BITCH. BITCH. BITCH. BITCH. none other than @foxofninetales could POSSIBLY be this Amazonian queen. Once again: step on me mom. 

Egeus: Okay like. Okay don’t come for me I’m sorry I have to cast Egeus, but I think that deep down he wants what’s best for his daughter! And I feel like that has very @kholran energy. Idk they came up with the ShanSang pool noodle and that radiates very safe energy for me. So sorry @kholran ur my dad now. 

The Philostrate: they’re literally just trying to get things organized and let everyone have a good time at the wedding! It’s a hard job!! Don’t make it harder for them!!!! I feel like the only one who could do this would be @mejomonster. Just trying to deal with all these idiots. RIP. 

And Finally: the Fairies

Oberon: ok Oberon’s a himbo but in the best way. He’s just hanging out with his best friend Puck and trying to get his wife to pay attention to him again after she gets a baby. like I get it, dude. Me too. I feel like @elletromil has the most Oberon energy, partially bc I’m in awe of them, partially bc they feel like an old married couple along with: 

Titania: @gaiahenshin. You two would be SO PERFECT together as Titania and Oberon. I’m also of the firm opinion that the Love Juice doesn’t actually work on Titania and she’s just acting for Oberon, and I feel like that’s something @gaiahenshin could get behind. ONCE AGAIN. STEP ON ME. THIS IS NOT A SUGGESTION. 

Puck: ok I feel like the obvious one is the person who’s been doing ALL the magic in the fandom for us lately, which would be @xia-xueyi. Not only a Puck-level mastery of words, but also just blessing us with the energy and love and encouragement. She also feels very bouncy and joyful to me, and I would love to see her get to fly around the stage and do some fun magic stuff. 

Cobweb, Mustardseed, Peaseblossom, and Moth: the fairies! THE FAIRIES!!! the literal BACKBONES of the play. Obviously this would be @thewindsofsong, @idlebeks, @staidwaters, and @i-sudoku. I know in my heart that they are all ethereal beings and that nothing would be the same without them. Also they deserve to get to fly around in some stage rigging. They DESERVE IT. 

The Changeling Child: the only one who is not a mutual. This is the stupid baby dummy from the Moonfall Echo behind-the-scenes cause I think it’s hilarious. 

AH!!!! ANYWAY!!!! THERE’S MY MIDSUMMER CASTING!!! I LOVE YOU ALL I CAN’T WAIT TO SPEND HELL WEEK WITH YOU!!!!!! >:)

#thank u nopey i love u #also listened to Jopping by SuperM the entire time I was doing this so #that's the energy u should attribute to this post lmao #brigid casts dmutualsbj #:/ damn i wanna direct shakespeare again this has got me SO HYPED #billy shakes #im going to be so fucking embarrassed if u were actually asking for the DMBJ characters #like no one fucking look at me #I'm literally crying in my house

[ring-a-ding-dumbass]

Companions as Hallmark Christmas Movie Love Interests

Happy Holidays!! I’ve been watching a LOT of bad Christmas Movies, so here are the companions as Hallmark movie love interests! (I’ve left out Codsworth, Dogmeat, Strong, and DLC companions.) [disclaimer: I know most jobs listed in these do not work in the way that I will imply, but that’s pretty standard for these kinds of films, so I’m rolling with it. Also, most of these are based off of SOME movie I’ve seen this Christmas, so obviously it’s not going to be super original. They’re Hallmark movies; they’re not supposed to be ‘good.’]

Note: I’d love to expand these into a fic, but I really don’t have the free time right now. If anyone is interested in taking one of these ideas and running with it, please do!! Just tag me when you’re done so I can read it!!

Cait- Cait owns a bar and she has a strict “No Christmas” policy. No Christmas music. No singing Christmas carols. No decorations. She hates the holidays because she thinks that all of the happiness and love that they inspire is a bunch of BS. She say’s it’s all fake for the sake of Christmas cards and holiday specials. One day, you’re the last patrion in her bar, and Cait slips on some ice while she’s locking up. You take her to the hospital and she has *gasp* AMNESIA. You let Cait stay with you because you can’t find any friends or family of hers, and the hospital can’t keep her. To your surprise, this Cait actually seems to like Christmas. She treats everything like she’s learning about it for the very first time. She’s not all soft and lovey-dovey, sure, but she doesn’t mind the peppermint bark and ice skating and snowball fights and eggnog. As she begins to get her memory back, she gets colder, and she opens up to you that the reason she hates Christmas is because Christmas never meant anything to her as a child. Her parents were mean to her 24/7, and that didn’t stop around the holidays, which is why Cait was always so certain that Christmas cheer was a hoax. Cait regains her full memories, but because of your re-introduction to the holiday, she doesn’t mind it as much anymore. She’s no santa claus, but she does stock up on peppermint vodka and candy canes for the bar, and wears a mistletoe headband during December, which you always manage to take advantage of. 

Curie- Curie is the owner of a flower shop in North Pole, Alaska. Every year, more people move out of town, and Curie has to try to sell more items during Christmas, which is her most profitable season. You’re a character actor who works as an elf for a mall santa agency, and this year, you’re sent to the Fairbanks/North Pole region. One day, you go to see the sights in North Pole and meet Curie while she’s working in her shop. She’s running around like a chicken with her head cut off. You ask if she’s busy, and she mentions that she just lost her only employee to the local Build-a-Bear. She charms you, and you apply on the spot. After she hires you, you realize that there’s a well dressed real estate executive that comes in at least once a week to hit on Curie. She explains that he’s been offering to help her business in exchange for a date, but she won’t do it. As you and Curie ready up for the Holidays, you realize that you’re really compatible. You have fights with the fake snow used for window displays, you help organize flowers in the walk in freezer together and bring hot chocolate in when it gets too cold, and you start sneaking kisses to one another when you have to retrieve an order from the back. One day, the business man comes in and tells you that he’s buying the land that your shop is built on unless you can afford to pay an astronomical hike in rent. Curie begins to worry that she’ll have to sell her shop, but you promise her that it won’t happen. Together, you come up with the idea to sell Christmas packages online, so families who live far away from each other can send a little piece of christmas to other family members for the holidays. The idea takes off. Not only are you able to sustain the hike in rent, but you’re able to pay for your own land to move the shop, so Curie will never have to worry about rent again. You never go back to the mall santa place, and you run your shop with Curie for years, making a comfortable living in a cozy town. 

Danse- Oh, Paladin Danse-- He’s the son of the president, and one of the best generals in the country, and he’s getting married. You are the baker for his wedding. One day, when you’re trying to haul a prototype cake to the other end of the capitol building to put on display to show Danse and his future spouse, you turn a corner and run into Danse, covering the both of you in cake. You don’t recognize him, and he doesn’t introduce himself, but offers to help you in any way he can to rebuild the cake. He insists on helping, so you let him, which sparks a friendship between you. Once the cake is ready, you bring it back upstairs, to find Danse and his spouse ready to look at the cake. Danse and you start speaking when you run into each other in the halls, and one day, he asks you on a walk around the grounds, where he confesses to you that he doesn’t personally feel attracted to his spouse, but it must be done for the good of the country. Just before his wedding, you confess your feelings and Danse runs off. The wedding comes to a halt and nobody knows why until Danse shows up to tell his future spouse that he can’t go through with this because he is in love with someone else. He approaches you as you’re cleaning up the confectionary table and tells you that he has to be true to himself, and that means being true to you. 

Deacon- You’re a server working at a diner in a moderately large town. Deacon comes in one day and introduces himself as the new hire. You train him, and he’s kind of terrible, but he makes you laugh. You slip him your number after a week or so of light flirting and banter, but he turns you down. You leave to let Deacon close, but realize that you left your phone at the diner in an embarrassed hurry. You head back to the restaurant and find Deacon snooping through the boss’s files! After you catch him, he confesses that he’s an undercover spy, sent to keep an eye on your boss, who is suspected of using the diner to launder money. Now that you know, Deacon brings you on as his partner, and swears you to secrecy. You two go on a cute stakeout, have researching sessions together, and slowly fall in love over the course of December. At the end of the month, you come in for a shift to see your boss being arrested, and Deacon isn’t there. It isn’t until Christmas eve that you get a knock on your door. Deacon is there with takeout. He explains that his boss decided to go in without asking him, and they forced him back to the office, barring any outside contact until he could provide a full report. He confesses that he has fallen in love with you, but has also lost his job because of it, because he confessed to breaking cover. You reunite with a warm kiss and warm takeout, and, now that you’re both jobless, you start a P.I. agency together. 

Hancock- Oh. Oh. Oh. BAD BOY CELEBRITY gets in trouble with his publicist over general bad-boy-scandalous behavior. YOU are a choir director for a low income rec center in a small town and you are putting on a Christmas Pageant. You don’t have the funds, but eventually the publicist finds out about your little operation, and she is ALL over it. She brings Hancock in to work with the kids and she brings an entire media team with him. He’s arrogant at first, and doesn’t even remember your name for the first few days, but you notice a change in him as you begin to work together. As skeptical as you are, Hancock really connects with the kids, and really seems to care about the Christmas Pageant. While you’re there, the kids start teasing you two, and implying that you have crushes on each other. In the end, The publicist scores him a comeback story and interview on a national morning talk show, but it would mean missing the pageant. While it seems like he’s chosen to go to the talk show, he changes his mind and arrives just before the pageant with flowers to apologize. After you accept his apology, the kids push you two under some construction paper and white puffball mistletoe. 

MacCready- RJ is a single father who is still getting over the death of his wife. He has yet to move on in part due to his son’s illness. You are an heiress to a rather large fortune, but you’re told that you have a year to get a job and learn about good old fashioned hard work before you’re allowed to have access to the fortune. You start out with no discernible skills, so you become a babysitter for RJ. He goes to work in the evening as a security guard and you take care of Duncan at home. Duncan confesses to you that things haven’t been the same since his mother died. One night, you decide to ask Duncan what he wants for Christmas, and he tells you that he told the Santa Claus at the mall that he wants his dad to be okay. One night, RJ comes home and confesses that with the holidays coming up, he doesn’t know if he can afford to keep paying you to watch him every night, to which you reply that you’d gladly work for half salary. One night, you two stay up until Duncan has to get up for school, just talking about your lives. MacCready starts inviting you on outings with him and Duncan. One day, after RJ loses his job and can no longer to afford medicine for Duncan, you confess to him that you’ve been rich the entire time, and that you can pay for it yourself. MacCready accuses you of lying to him this entire time about who you are, and he asks if he can ever trust you again. You tell him that omitting to your fortune was a lie, but your feelings for him never were. You two make up, move into a house together, and Duncan thanks you for granting him his wish. 

Nick Valentine- Did someone say GHOST ROMANCE? Yes, I did. You inherit a small farmhouse from an old relative that you haven’t seen in years. You go to get a good look at to see if it’s even salvageable, and you find that not only is it relatively well kept, but things move when you’re not looking. You spend the night and are woken up in the middle of the night by someone rummaging around in the attic. You find Nick, and you threaten to call the police. He’s polite, and promises it’s not what it looks like, but tells you not to call the police. When you do, they show up to find nothing in your house. Once they leave, you turn back, and Nick is in your house again. He explains that he’s a ghost, and for some reason, he can only be seen by the deed holder of the house, which is why your relative hasn’t been to the house in years. Nick explains that he died in this house a few decades ago, but he doesn’t know how it happened. Determined to figure it out in hopes that it can help him pass on, he was looking in the attic to see if it might have any proof of how he died and if foul play was involved. Over the course of your investigations, you two become good friends, and as much as you want it to be more, you tell yourself that it could never happen. Together, you slowly piece together that Nick was murdered just before proposing to the daughter of someone who used to own the house. As you and Nick celebrate this information, you realize that Nick hasn’t passed on. Nick explains that ghosts can’t pass on until they feel they have nothing to leave behind. He explains that he has grown attached to you, and doesn’t want to leave you behind. You move into the Farmhouse with Nick where you two live until your spirits can both pass on together. 

Piper- Piper is a journalist who has been tasked with writing a weekly features column about Christmas, but she has found herself disillusioned with the holidays. She thought she’d be getting a Christmas bonus that she could use to buy Nat something special, but there was never a bonus, and money is really really tight. You’re quite literally the child of Santa Claus who has been sent out into the world to be with the people and really learn what the true meaning of Christmas is before you start your apprenticeship with your father to be the next in line. You meet Piper at charity event where you’re gathering toys to send to low income communities. After Piper interviews you, you start asking her questions, and upon seeing that the cold world has turned such a warm heart into a Christmas cynic, you decide to give her the Christmas of a lifetime. I’m talking ice skating, light shows, snow on christmas, and Nat getting a few extra presents. On Christmas eve, you’re called back to the North Pole. Your dad wants you to start your apprenticeship with him on Christmas by seeing how it’s done. You tell him that you can’t, because you have your own duties this Christmas, and he’s proud of you for that. You tell Piper about your dad, and she doesn’t believe you at first, but after bringing her and Nat to the North Pole to see it all happen, she apologizes for not believing you. You kiss, and agree to split time between the North Pole and Piper’s hometown, because you would never make her give up what she loves. 

Preston- You grew up in a small town, but moved to the city to get a job at an ad agency. Around the holidays, your agency notes that they’re looking for something more down-to-earth and rustic for their new ‘winter campaign,’ so they send you to your hometown for Christmas. They’re expecting a campaign plan by new years, but while you’re trying to do your job, you find Preston, selling Christmas trees at the local Christmas tree farm and greenhouse. He teaches you to slow down, and to appreciate a christmas built on family, camaraderie, and love. You use your ad/social media experience to save his dying christmas tree farm. At the end of the year, you decide to quit your job and stay with Preston, who brings you on as a partner in the business and in life. 

X6-88- X6 is a loan company executive who has been sent to audit the inn that you have been taking care of since your spouse passed away years ago. He’s quite serious and no-nonsense, which clashes with the capacity for compassion that you clearly possess. He thinks such traits are inefficient and pointless. Despite that, you include him in all of the Christmas dinners and events that you have planned, even if he’s not enthused about them. Through the Christmastime events that you plan for the inn throughout the Christmas season, X6 realizes that you’re not just all heart and no head. You have great ideas, and you’re inclusive of him even when he’s pessimistic. He uses his own knowledge of your loan plan to outsmart his own company and save your inn for the time being. He decides to leave his job in the city to live with you at the inn so he can handle the business and finances. 

#fallout #fallout 4 #fo4 #fallout headcanons #fallout 4 headcanons #fo4 headcanons #this took me like TWO GD DAYS #so im sorry if you don't like what I picked for your favorite companion #or if you recognize what movies inspired which headcanons #Cait fo4 #Curie fo4 #Paladin danse #Deacon fo4 #john hancock #hancock fo4 #Robert Joseph Garbage Weasel MacCready #rj maccready #robert joseph maccready #MacCready #Duncan MacCready #Nick Valentine #Piper wright #nat wright #preston garvey #X6-88 #holy shit im tired

[swan-of-sunrise]

Spellbinding (Chapter Seven-Part One)

Summary: A day before Tony Stark’s charity ball, (Y/N) is assigned her very-first mission as an Avenger and needless to say, she finds herself under extreme pressure not to fail.

Pairing: Loki X Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings/Disclaimers: The Spanish in this chapter was translated with Google Translate, so I’m sorry if there’s a mistake in it.

A/N: I hope that you enjoy!

Chapter Seven (Part I) July 10th, 2015 Avengers Tower, New York City (Previous Chapter)

“Hurry up, (Y/L/N), your Quinjet’s gonna be leaving soon and we still have to see if your suit’s working okay!”

As Bruce scolded Tony for being too pushy, (Y/N) finished fastening her sword to her belt with quaking fingers. After three months of extensive daily training, she was finally going on her first field mission as an Avenger; according to Director Fury and Steve, she had excelled in both magical and physical training and was finally ready to put her skills to good use. (Y/N) was excited, of course, but she was also a complete nervous wreck. What if I make a mistake and put the others in danger, she asked herself for the tenth time that day. She knew how much her teammates would be counting on her on this mission, and she was terrified of such high expectations resting squarely on her shoulders.

To distract herself from the butterflies in her stomach, she looked into the floor-length mirror and examined her brand-new uniform. It reminded her of Natasha’s full-body leather suit, but there were several distinct differences; (Y/N)’s bodysuit was made of black and purple leather, it included pieces of black leather armor and matching fingerless gloves and she wore knee-high leather wedge boots, silver arm circlets and gauntlets on her forearms. A long purple cloak hung from her shoulders by silver-toned clasps, and her sheathed sword hung from her waist. She couldn’t help but smile at her reflection, her new suit making her feel just as empowered as the tower’s two resident Asgardians. Smoothing down her hair one last time, she took a deep breath and drew back the curtain separating her from the rest of the lab, causing both men to turn and gape.

Tony’s eyebrows raised and his mouth hung open almost comically. “Damn, (Y/L/N), you look…”

“Fantastic!” Bruce smiled widely.

“I was gonna say ‘badass’ but ‘fantastic’ works too.” The billionaire gestured for her to stand on a short stool before continuing. “We designed the leather of the suit to be breathable and flexible, the armor’s bullet-proof and it can even withstand extreme heat and cold to a certain degree.” Tony pointed to her silver gauntlets as he paced around her. “FYI, these were partly inspired by our little bonding incident a few weeks back, (Y/L/N), remember? They’re not vibranium like Capsicle’s shield but they’re still bullet-proof in case any get through your magic.”

(Y/N) twisted her forearms to examine the gauntlets better. “That’s amazing, Tony!” The billionaire smiled proudly at her compliment. “But, what about my glasses? I can’t wear them on missions and you guys know my eyes don’t react well to contact lenses…”

Bruce’s eyes gleamed with triumph. “That problem had us stumped for a while, but last week we finally managed invent a solution that didn’t involve cutting into your corneas with a laser.” He handed her a pair of metal-framed glasses and held her regular pair for her. “Put these on and press the button on the right side of the frame, please.”

“Oh, my goodness…” (Y/N)’s mouth fell open as she followed his instructions and examined her reflection in the mirror Bruce held up. The glasses had flickered once before turning completely invisible, making it look as if she didn’t wear glasses at all. “How did you two geniuses manage this?”

Both scientists looked pleased with her reaction. “Well, we just adapted the same cloaking technology that S.H.I.E.L.D. used on their helicarrier and improved upon it; anyone attacking you won’t realize you’re wearing glasses unless they sock you in the eye, which is something I’m pretty sure you’d stop from happening.”

“The lenses are bullet-proof, scratch and glare-resistant, they’re fitted so they won’t fall off and we made several pairs just in case something happens to these ones.” Bruce set down the mirror and picked up his clipboard to jot down some notes. “Now, does everything feel all right? Nothing’s too tight or too loose?”

Shaking her head, (Y/N) moved her arms and legs to be sure. “Everything feels perfect.” The moment Bruce finished writing down his notes, she jumped down from her stool and gave him a tight hug, smiling when she felt him slowly return it. “Thank you, Bruce.” She pulled away from him and gave Tony a hug, which he was much quicker to return. “And thank you too, Tony. The suit is wonderful and I feel much safer now that I have it!”

“No problem, (Y/N), we just want to make sure you’re protected when you go out there.”

“Yeah, Stevie Nicks, you should always use protection.” Tony smirked playfully as (Y/N) blushed and Bruce rubbed the bridge of his nose in mild exasperation at his suggestive comment.

Just then, Natasha walked in, dressed in her standard black leather bodysuit with her hair braided over her shoulder. “Nice suit, (Y/N)! Cap wanted me to tell you that the Quinjet’s leaving in five, so you’d better hurry up.”

“Thank you, Nat, I’ll be there in a minute,” She turned back to the two men as Natasha left and grinned. “Well, wish me luck!”

Bruce gave her a smile. “Good luck, (Y/N).”

Tony’s smirk widened. “Yeah, not that you need it, though; you’re gonna kick so much ass out there in that getup.”

Chuckling lightly, (Y/N) gave them one last glance before leaving the lab; on the way to the elevator, she heard someone call her name and turned to see Loki hurrying to catch up with her. Her heart beat even faster in her chest when she noticed that he was wearing her favorite outfit: fitted black slacks and an emerald-green dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and his long black hair hanging loose around his shoulders. She mentally chastised herself before saying, “Hi Loki, what are you up to?”

“I couldn’t very well let my best friend leave on her first mission without wishing her luck now, could I?” Loki flashed her a grin, but she could see the uneasiness in his eyes. “You look positively fearsome in that armor, by the way. How are you feeling?”

“Thanks, and I guess I feel a little nervous,” She said truthfully as they stepped into the elevator, knowing better than to lie to him. “I don’t want to be the one responsible for any of the others getting hurt.”

Loki gently took her hand and held it between his own as the elevator rose, making her faintly blush at the contact. “Lady (Y/N), I can assure you that you have absolutely nothing to worry about. Our teammates can take care of themselves, and as long as you remember all the training you’ve excelled at over these past few months, you’ll be able to protect them and yourself if the need arises. Remember, everyone in this tower believes in you, but none more so than I.”

Looking into his sincere green eyes, she could feel her nervousness slowly begin to melt away and she smiled up at him. “Thank you, Loki, that really helped.”

“I’m glad I could be of assistance,” He grinned before letting go of her hand. “And please try to hurry back, I don’t think I could handle going to Stark’s charity ball tomorrow evening and watch everyone make fools of themselves by myself.”

Stark Industries hosted over a hundred charity events for dozens of different causes and organizations every year, but one of the only ones held personally by the billionaire included an annual charity ball to raise money for children’s hospitals across the country. Since the Avengers had begun using the tower as their base three years ago, the ball had become increasingly popular as more and more people were willing to donate to attend and meet the heroes. (Y/N) was excited to go and promote such a worthy cause, but she was also excited for an entirely different reason: two weeks ago, Loki had asked her to accompany him as his date. She could vividly remember the moment he’d asked her…

“Loki? Loki, are you in there?” (Y/N) knocked on his door before sighing. “Listen, Steve told me that you haven’t been having a good day so I brought you some snacks. We can watch a movie, if you want? Trust me, nothing will cheer you up more than chocolate chip cookies and A Knight’s Tale! It’s about a squire who poses as a knight and competes in jousting tourna-”

“What’s jousting?”

(Y/N) shrieked and spun around to face a laughing Loki, pressing her free hand to her chest and smiling despite herself. “Loki, that wasn’t funny! I almost had a heart attack!”

Loki continued to snicker. “Apologies, my lady, but I couldn’t resist the temptation.”

“So, I take it that you’re having a better day now?” She followed him into his room and sat in her usual place on his couch, handing him his cookies with a raised brow.

He nodded, a cheerful look on his face. “Significantly better, actually. I suddenly remembered that Stark’s charity ball is in two weeks and that I’ll be able to enjoy it with you. That is, if you wish to accompany me…”

“Of course I’ll go with you, Loki, who else would I go with?” (Y/N) mirrored his bright smile before gesturing to the television across from them. “So, snacks and a movie?” As they watched A Knight’s Tale, (Y/N) concluded that Loki was only asking her to accompany him as a friend; she was a little disappointed, of course, but she wasn’t going to allow her emotions to ruin a fun night for her and her best friend.

(Y/N) chuckled to herself as the memory faded; they stepped out of the elevator and walked to the floor’s glass doors. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back in no time.” Before he could reply, they stepped out into the tower’s small hangar where a Quinjet was being prepared for departure on the protruding helipad.

“There you are, (Y/N), we’re almost ready to leave!” Steve called from the Quinjet’s ramp as he slung his shield onto his back and adjusted his helmet’s jaw strap.

Loki gave her a reassuring smile. “Good luck on your first mission, Lady (Y/N).” He leaned down to give her a hug but to her surprise, he wrapped his arms tightly around her waist and pulled her up off her feet; she giggled in surprise and he laughed, gently swaying her from side-to-side as she wrapped her arms around his neck and experienced the now-familiar fluttering in the pit of her stomach. “And please, stay safe.”

“I will, Loki, I have an important engagement tomorrow night that I can’t miss, remember?” She joked, feeling a swell of pride when he chuckled lightly. “I’ll be safe, I promise.”

He set her gently on her feet and she reluctantly pulled away from his arms, giving him one last smile before following Steve into the Quinjet. The ramp closed behind them and (Y/N) quickly strapped herself into the seat next to a familiar face as the plane lifted into the air.

“Hi Scott, I haven’t seen you in a while!” (Y/N) had met Scott Lang during her first month as an Avenger; he was in awe that she was half-Light Elf and had nearly fainted from excitement when she gave him a small demonstration of her powers, and she was equally amazed with his suit’s ability to change sizes and the way he was able to communicate with ants. He wasn’t in the tower often but whenever he was, they got along very well. “How are you? How’s Cassie doing?”

Scott smiled, a gleam in his eyes that he got whenever anyone mentioned his five-year-old daughter. “Ah, I’m good, my buddies and I just opened up our security company – we call it X-CON, get it? – and Cassie’s doing great; I helped her read through a picture-book version of Charlotte’s Web and she’s been reading it all by herself for the past week!”

(Y/N) grinned, the pride in his voice filling her with happiness. “That’s wonderful, tell her I said ‘congratulations’! And congratulations to you for your company; I take it they let you come up with the name yourself?”

As the Quinjet continued to fly, (Y/N) continued talking to the energetic man, thankful that he was there to keep her mind off the nervousness surrounding her swiftly-approaching first mission.

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

Two hours later, they had reached their destination: the Dominican Republic on the island of Hispaniola. Their mission was simple, to destroy a large weapons compound that was operated by a terrorist organization with known ties to Hydra. Scott would go in first and disable the nearly-impenetrable security system before splitting off with Natasha while (Y/N) and Steve stayed together; each group would then plant a batch of explosives around the vast compound. The explosives were rigged to a detonator Natasha held, but it was still imperative they get out as quickly as possible in case of any complications. Please let everything turn out all right, (Y/N) silently prayed as they trekked closer to the compound and took cover twenty yards away behind a fallen tree. The moment Steve gave him the signal, Scott pressed a button on the glove of his suit and instantly shrunk, and a moment later, the tiny outline of an ant could be seen in the fading moonlight, flying quickly towards the compound’s concrete wall.

“Don’t tell Tony, but I think your suit’s way cooler than his, Lang.” Natasha’s lips curled into a smile but her eyes continued to scan the area for any threats.

(Y/N) heard Scott’s soft chuckle through her comm link. “Black Widow likes my suit more than Iron Man’s? Awesome.”

“All right, you both remember the plan, right?” Steve looked up from his explosives-filled satchel and glanced at the two of them.

“We’ve been over the plan twenty times, Cap, we’re fine.” Natasha rolled her eyes but grew serious when she caught sight of (Y/N)’s face. “We’re fine, right (Y/N)?”

(Y/N) nodded once, trying to mask her nervousness with a smile. “Yeah, of course, Nat.”

“Hey super-dudes, I just disabled the security system so come on in whenever you’re ready! But, you might wanna hurry ‘cause I have to turn it back on after one minute so they won’t get suspicious…which you already know ‘cause we went over the plan on the Quinjet. My bad. And I just realized, (Y/N), you’re the only one of us who doesn’t have a cool superhero name and that’s just not acceptable, so I’m gonna make one up for you, okay?”

She couldn’t help but smile at Scott’s unique way of calming her jittery nerves. “Okay Scott, go ahead and make up a cool superhero name for me.”

“Time to go.” Steve pulled his shield onto his arm and gave her an encouraging smile. “We’ll be fine, (Y/N), don’t worry.” The two of them crept silently towards the compound and Steve motioned for her to get behind him before swiftly pulling the unlocked front door open. He immediately threw his shield, hitting the three surprised guards in the heads and catching it as they crumpled to the ground. Silently marveling at Steve’s impressive throwing skills, (Y/N) followed him as they continued down the vast hall.

“Cap, (Y/N), you’ve got two armed guards heading straight towards you on your left, and a couple of others coming up from behind.” Natasha said, revealing that she had already reached the compound’s control room.

Steve glanced at (Y/N) and gestured for her to take the lead before turning to prepare for the attack, and she immediately knew what she had to do. Taking a deep breath and concentrating all her energy into her hands, she summoned two balls of purple magic in her palms; the moment the two men turned the corner in front of them, she thrust her hands and magic outwards, engulfing the men in swirls of purple magic and causing them to slam into each other and then into the concrete wall behind them. They hit the wall with a sickening crunch and fell to the ground, unconscious. Behind her, Steve threw his shield and took out the other two guards.

Natasha chuckled through the earpiece. “Nicely done, Bad-Ass; Scott and I are onto Phase Two, so you two are on your own. We’ll meet you at the rendezvous point when we’re done.”

The two Avengers continued down the halls of the compound, occasionally coming across the remnants of Natasha and Scott’s handiwork but strangely no more armed men. In no time, they reached the compound’s warehouse, which was filled with hundreds of wooden crates. Weapons, (Y/N) thought as she frowned in disgust. This particular terrorist organization was responsible for half a dozen attacks around the world in recent years that had resulted in countless civilian casualties, so she had no problem with working to take them down along with Hydra.

They quickly began planting the explosives all around the vast room but just as they finished, at least two dozen armed guards burst in. Steve immediately ran into battle, but (Y/N) froze in fear, her legs unwilling to move. Time seemed to slow around her as a familiar feminine voice spoke in her head: “Kiddo, no one can make you feel inferior without your consent…”

You’ve spent three months training for this exact moment, (Y/N) thought to herself, now it’s time to show the world its newest Avenger. She unsheathed her sword and charged at the men; she sliced through their guns like butter before they could pull the triggers and deflected their knife attacks with ease, twirling and ducking around them and using their slowness to her advantage as she slashed at them. She was vaguely aware of Steve fighting nearby but she was entirely focused on her task of incapacitating her attackers. Her luck left her, however, when she kicked an attacker to the ground; the last man standing took her by surprise then with a hard punch to the stomach and wrenched her arm behind her back, causing her to gasp in pain and drop her sword.

“No eres tan dura ahora, ¿verdad, puta?” The man growled into her ear as he pointed a knife to her chest, its tip puncturing the exposed skin along her collarbone.

“Todavía no has visto nada.” She replied, elbowing him hard in the stomach and ducking under his arm as he doubled over in pain. Rolling out of the way, she picked up her fallen sword and raised it just in time to block his knife attack; she countered it by twisting the knife out of his hands and slamming the hilt of her sword against his head. Her attacker fell to the ground like a stone, unconscious.

Breathing heavily, (Y/N) looked around for Steve and saw that he was locked in combat with a larger man. She was about to hurry to his aid when she caught sight of a sniper crouching atop a tower of crates and pointing a rifle at Steve’s unaware back. Without a moment of thought, she sheathed her sword and ran into the line of fire just as the sniper pulled the trigger. Time seemed to slow down and she could practically see the bullet flying through the air; raising both her hands and summoning her magic, she was rewarded with the sight of the bullet ricocheting away and a millisecond later, the sight of the sniper being engulfed in a swirling purple cloud and thrown roughly against the wall before falling to the ground.

She turned to see Steve standing over his defeated attacker, a stunned expression on his face. (Y/N) only breathed a sigh of relief, her pride and relief overtaking her earlier nervousness.

“Wait, you speak Spanish?”

Scott’s legitimately confused tone causing her to stifle a smile. “Yes, Scott, I speak some Spanish. A little French, as well.”

“As much as I’d love to learn more about Trilingual (Y/N), we’ve got a mission to finish. Scott and I are already at the rendezvous-”

Just then, the unmistakable sounds of thundering footsteps echoed from the hall; it sounded as if nearly fifty heavily-armed men were approaching, all heading right for them. When they turned to look through the small window of the door, they could clearly make out the bazookas the first several men held in their arms as they approached. They plan on sacrificing their weapons and their lives just to kill us, she thought with a horrified gasp.

(Y/N) quickly used her magic to keep the door barred and whirled around to face Steve, an undoubtedly insane plan coming to mind. “Nat, you have the detonator. Press the button when I tell you to.”

“But you and Steve are still in there!”

“Nat, if we don’t blow this place to hell right now, then they’ll be the ones to do it! Besides,” Steve’s confident blue eyes never left hers as he gave her an encouraging nod. “(Y/N) has a plan.”

Natasha remained silent for several moments. “All right, tell me when.”

“I really hope your crazy idea works, (Y/N), or else you two are gonna be toast.”

Hurrying to the center of the warehouse, (Y/N) knelt, pulling Steve down with her, and held her arms up above their heads; she was grateful that the super soldier wrapped an arm around her waist and raised his shield as a precaution, as things were about to become much shakier. Summoning every ounce of strength and power she could without passing out, she created a swirling bubble of purple magic to fully surround them. I love you, Loki, she thought just before shouting out, “Now!”

Explosions went off around them and caused the earth to quake, enormous balls of fire to expand across the room and the warehouse to begin crumbling away around them. To her great relief, her magical force-field held, deflecting the fire and debris and keeping the air inside fresh, but her arms began to shake with effort. All of a sudden, it felt as if she was lifting an immeasurable weight but she continued to hold her magic in place despite the pain. I have to protect Steve, I have to protect Steve, she repeated in her head, gritting her teeth and concentrating all her remaining energy on her magic. That last bit of effort did the trick; yelling in pain, magic pulsed outwards from the force field, vaporizing everything within fifty feet of them and extinguishing the blazing fires. She collapsed against Steve and struggled to remain conscious, the force field surrounding them finally fading away; they both immediately began coughing as their lungs filled with smoky air.

“C’mon (Y/N), stay with me,” Wasting no time, Steve stood and pulled her into his arms, quickly carrying her through the thick smoke and towards the distant tree line. “I’ve got you, can you stay awake for me? Stay awake, (Y/N), we’re almost there, just keep your eyes open…”

She opened her mouth to respond but could only violently cough; after blacking out for what only felt like a moment, she blinked her eyes open and realized that they were back on the Quinjet and already in the air. Her head was resting in Steve’s lap, and Natasha and Scott were leaning over her; all three of them had equally concerned expressions on their faces. “(Y/N)! Thank God you’re okay!”

(Y/N) swallowed thickly and looked up at all three beaming Avengers. “Did…did we finish the mission? Who’s flying the Quinjet?”

“Don’t worry, I put it on autopilot and yeah,” Natasha nodded, a proud smile stretching across her face. “Yeah, we finished the mission all thanks to you, Bad-Ass. Seriously, what you did was fucking amazing, (Y/N).”

Steve grinned; he had taken off his helmet while she was unconscious, and the parts of his face that hadn’t been covered were streaked with soot. “Not too shabby for your first mission, doll.”

“And while you were off being awesome, I came up with the perfect superhero name for you,” Scott grinned triumphantly before continuing. “How about ‘The Cosmic Sorceress?’ ‘Cause based off what Captain America here told us and what we saw ourselves, you showed a lot of bad guys that you’re a scary-ass force to be reckoned with, and bad-assery like that deserves a name to match.”

(Y/N) thought for a moment, a smile slowly stretching across her face as she looked up at her fellow Avengers. “You know what? I love it, Scott.”

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

Spanish Translations: No eres tan dura ahora, ¿verdad, puta?-You're not so tough now, are you bitch? Todavía no has visto nada-You haven't seen anything yet.

A/N: (Y/N) finally has a ‘made-up name’ like the others! Sorry to leave you in suspense, but Loki and (Y/N)’s ‘date’ will be the next chapter so stay tuned! Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy!

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2wx8TZwpDN0l33tES3W3Nk

Chapter Seven-Part Two

Spellbinding Masterlist

Tagging: @nexiva @ravenclawbitch426 @cminr @confusedfandomwriter @momc95 @nickkie1129 @austynparksandpizza @brooke0297 @destructivebliss @outoftheregular​ @itscomplicatedx​ @0-artemis​ @vivloki​

#loki x reader #loki odinson x reader #loki laufeyson x reader #loki #loki odinson #tony stark #iron man #bruce banner #hulk #natasha romanoff #black widow #steve rogers #captain america #scott lang #ant man #marvel cinematic universe

[shera-dnd]

Cupid’s Kiss

Took me way longer than expected curse the whims of my mental health but the winner of this month’s 3k fic poll is finally here!

In which Carmen and Julia have a lovely totally not date in Paris while in search for two thieves who are certainly also not having a date

if you’d like a chance to get your fic ideas written by me, or just want to support me, you can feel free to donate to my ko-fi (rules over here)

and here is the ao3 link if you’d rather read it over there

also this fic was brought to you thanks to the help of @cantdrawshaw

NOW ON WITH THE FIC

Carmen Sandiego was the best at her job. She had bested trained assassins and killer robots, evaded the world’s most advanced detective agency, and destroyed the largest criminal organization. All in her early twenties.

Yet there was one task she was not prepared to face. One that escaped her skills, both martial and technical. One that she had failed to plan around. One that existed entirely beyond the range of her skills. A foe that she could not beat.

“Come on, Carm,” Zack called, “it can’t be that hard. If even Ivy could score with the girls, you can do it too.”

“Even Ivy?!” His sister replied, furious, “I’ve been with more girls than you, jackass.”

“Guys, guys!” Carmen interrupted, “you’re not helping.”

Mentioning her interest in spending more time with Julia Argent had been the biggest mistake she had made in weeks. This was supposed to be a peaceful day at their old home base, but now here she was.

Her friends were trying so hard to help her and she couldn’t even be mad at how poorly they were doing, because she knew she wouldn’t fare much better were the roles reversed.

“Sorry,” the siblings replied in unison.

“I appreciate the support,” she assured them, “but I’m not trying to ‘score’ with anyone. I just wanna get to know Jules a little better.”

“So this is not a date?” Ivy asked.

“No!” She replied, a little too quickly, “me and Jules aren’t like that. She’s more of a… professional acquaintance. A coworker.”

“Carm,” Zack replied, “we’re coworkers and you’ve never had a bouquet of roses delivered to my door.”

“It was just a thank you for handling all those precious artifacts for me,” she explained, “she’s a hard worker, she deserved it.”

“Sure,” Ivy nodded, unconvinced, “is that why you take time to chat over coffee with her every other caper?”

“Not every moment of our lives has to be a chase, you know?” she countered.

“Or why you keep finding excuses to dance with her?”

“It’s the easiest way to speak privately at those parties without garnering unwanted attention,” she recited as if from a textbook.

“Or why-”

“Cease this!” Shadowsan’s stern voice commanded and the siblings fell silent, “VILE has trained her to never cave under interrogation. You’ll have a better chance extracting information from a rock.”

Carmen smirked at them, proud to have her skills of deflection recognized.

“Do not be so full of yourself,” he added, making Carmen flinch just a bit, “I have taught those lessons for years and I know how to see through them.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” she deflected, looking away.

He walked up to her and placed a hand on her shoulder with uncharacteristic gentleness.

“I have seen the happiness Miss Argent brings you,” he said, “and I wish you the best of luck should you wish to pursue it.”

That meant a lot to Carmen. More than she could really express in words. But after she had been so thoroughly embarrassed by her friends, all she could really say was,

“Not you too.”

She looked up at the smirking siblings and braced herself...

“Hey, Red,” Player’s voice called, just in the nick of time.

“Player!” She jumped to attention and grabbed the laptop from their desk.

“Woah!” he exclaimed, “everything okay, Red?”

Zack and Ivy snickered as they sat by each side of her, so they could see Player.

“I think Carm would rather you sent her on a crazy chase instead of sitting here talking about her crush on Jules,” Ivy teased.

“Well it looks like you might get to do both,” Player replied, to Carmen’s dismay, “look who our cameras just found walking around Paris.”

The screen cut to a video feed of one of ACME’s hidden cameras over the streets of Paris. None of the people on camera seemed particularly conspicuous… until a particular pair walked on screen. Even without their costumes Carmen could always recognize them.

“Tigress and Paper Star,” she noted, “those two can’t be up to any good.”

“Looks like we’ll be going to Paris, eh Carm?” Ivy commented as she playfully nudged her side.

“City of love,” Zack added as he joined the nudging.

Carmen groaned. This was gonna be a rough mission.

Chase had grown a lot over the past few months. His deductive reasoning had vastly improved, his mood was far more amenable, and he actually stopped to listen to Julia nowadays. What hadn’t really improved with time was his overall clumsiness. 

“Miss Argent, I’ll be fine,” his insistence was interrupted by a powerful sneeze, “This is nothing.”

“Agent Devineaux, please,” she pleaded, “you’re in no state to continue this investigation.”

Devineaux had landed himself into his fair share of rivers over the months he had worked for ACME, and it seemed that so many cold baths had finally caught up to his health. Not that he would ever admit to that.

“Nonsense,” he claimed, “I’ll be back in perfect shape by the time we land in Paris.”

The sneeze that followed said otherwise.

“Chase, please,” she asked again, “rest. I can handle this.”

“I refuse to send my partner on a mission by herself.”

“As sweet as your concern is,” she countered, “I doubt I’ll be by myself for long.”

“Ah yes, I’m sure La Femme Rouge will make for good company,” he agreed and she was glad he did, but it sounded like there was more to his words. “Were you anyone else I’d worry this was all a ploy to have some private time with Miss Sandiego.”

She shot him an unamused glare.

“Apologies,” he said almost immediately.

“Accepted,” she sighed, “but I do not appreciate any insinuations as to the nature of me and Miss Sandiego’s relationship. We’re good friends, nothing more.”

“Of course,” he nodded, but Julia could tell he had more to say.

Truly his detective skills have improved considerably as of late. It had become harder and harder for Julia to pass her excitement for those missions as simple passion for her work. Not when she had abandoned that work as soon as it conflicted with her passion for… something else.

Chase was her friend and she knew he’d understand her feelings for Carmen. She was also sure he’d do his best to keep it a secret until she was confident enough to bring these things to light. She trusted him and she didn’t fear anything of the sorts.

What she did fear was Chase trying to wingman for her. Just the thought was enough to fill her with dread. Enough dread to keep her mouth shut about her feelings in the vicinity of Agent Devineaux. Even if it felt bad to hide this from her friend.

Thankfully the Chief chose that exact moment to call her to give her updated information on their targets. 

Now she could just shut off all these awkward feelings and focus on her work.

The Louvre had been an obvious target. The world’s most famous museum, home to thousands of priceless works of art, including the Mona Lisa itself. It was so obvious in fact that VILE had never bothered to consider it.

But VILE was gone now and its escaped students no longer had any faculty to dissuade them from this target.

That’s why Carmen now walked its halls, diligently searching for any security flaws that could be exploited and any sign of the two master thieves on the loose.

She still took time to appreciate the art of course. This was the most famous museum in the world for a reason and she wasn’t gonna let this unique opportunity escape her, even with the evil duo to watch for.

Carmen had her attention split in every possible direction, her mind juggling its many tasks as she wandered hall after hall. Until, that is, she found something that pulled her focus into one singular point.

A shorter woman in a nice fitted suit, standing before one of the statues.

“Jules,” she greeted as she walked up behind her.

“Miss Sandiego,” Julia smiled as she greeted her, utterly unsurprised. She must have been expecting her, “it’s nice to see you here.”

“It’s nice seeing you too,” she replied, “and we went over this before, Carmen is just fine.”

“Carmen,” she said, in a way that warmed Carmen’s heart, “I take it you’ve been enjoying your time in Paris.”

“Hard to go sightseeing while I’ve got work to do, but I’m making do,” she shrugged, “how about you? What caught your attention today?”

Julia turned back to the statue she had been appreciating until then, “Psyche Revived by Cupid's Kiss.”

Carmen smirked, it was her time to shine.

“Sculpted by Antonio Canova, commissioned by welsh art-collector John Campbell in 1787,” she recited from memory, “its prime version was acquired by the Louvre in 1824 after the death of its previous owner, Joachim Murat.”

“Very impressive,” Julia praised, “I wish my students put half as much time as you do into their research.”

“I’m just good at memorizing trivia,” Carmen shrugged, trying to hide her pride at earning that praise, “I’m sure you know so much more than me on the subject.”

Boy was Carmen right about that. That seemed to have been the cue to send Julia into a long lecture about the neoclassical and romantic periods, as well as an analysis of the sculpture’s mythological origins and the many interpretations of the myth.

Many people would probably find this amount of information unspeakably tedious. But for Carmen, who was always hungry to learn about the world around her (and could never get tired of Jules speaking so enthusiastically,) it was exciting and endearing.

Carmen had realized then that she wanted nothing more than to spend her every waking hour listening to Julia talk on and on about anything she wanted, as long as it was passionate like this. Maybe someday soon.

Right now they had the whole rest of the Louvre to scout.

“Alright, alright, victory is yours,” Carmen playfully interrupted, “I guess you really are the biggest history nerd here.”

“Oh I’m sorry, it seems I got a bit carried away,” Julia cringed in shame. Damn it Sandiego! “I didn’t mean to bore you.”

“You couldn’t bore me if you tried,” Carmen assured her as she placed a hand on her arm, “I mean it. It’s nice hearing you talk.”

“Unfortunately I no longer teach,” she replied, “otherwise I would have given you an open invitation to any of my classes.”

“Well, how about you show me around the place?” she suggested, “we can call this a private lesson.”

At that Julia smiled again, “then I hope your memory is as good as you say it is, Carmen Sandiego, because I’ll be quizzing you at the end of the tour.”

They both laughed as Julia led them along to the next art piece in what was clearly a meticulously planned tour of the museum. Jules kept her teacher face on for all of her little lectures, but as they walked from room to room it felt so simple and casual.

For once Carmen felt like there was no rush and that she could just enjoy her time with someone she cared about. Maybe that was the moment. Her chance to make something out of this and let Julia know how she felt.

“Hey, Jules,” she called, walking a little closer to her.

“Yes?” Julia turned to look at her, she seemed surprised by the sudden closeness, but did not move away from her.

Carmen decided to take that as a good sign.

“This has been really nice, you know?” she tried, her usual confidence failing her, “just spending time with you like this.”

“I guess it was,” she replied with- Wait, was that a blush? No, that had to be wishful thinking.

“Yeah,” she agreed, awkwardly scratching the back of her neck, “and I just feel like-”

It was then that she was rudely reminded of what she was here to do.

“-you have got to be kidding me!”

“What?” Julia jumped a little in surprise.

“5 o’clock, behind you,” Carmen instructed.

She turned to look and there they were. Tall, blonde and scheming, and short, monochromatic and homicidal. The two thieves they were here to catch. Two thieves that had also noticed them.

They both smirked at them for a moment, before Paper Star whispered something into Tigress’s ear and they both bolted in separate directions.

“I go for Tigress, you go for Paper Star,” Carmen ordered as she bolted after her target.

Tigress was the fastest of the two, and the one most likely to pull dirty tricks on them. Unfortunately for her, Carmen was well-versed in all of those tricks, and of course had all her equipment on her. It’s amazing how much she could hide in just a red hoodie.

Soon Tigress had led the both of them out of the main building, ready to make a run for it and disappear into the city. Her mistake though, was going somewhere Carmen could use her grappling hook without worrying about damaging priceless works of art.

She swung after her, quickly closing the distance and knocking her down with a kick to the stomach. Tigress groaned as she forced herself back up, but instead of running again or getting ready to fight Carmen, she simply shouted.

“Come on!”

“Done running around?” Carmen taunted.

“Yeah yeah whatever,” she replied. Well that was unusual, “did you girlfriend catch Paper Star already?”

“What!?” She nearly jumped in surprise, “She’s not- we’re not- that doesn’t matter! You’re going to jail, for good this time.”

“For what?” she replied.

“Trying to steal from the Louvre!”

“Ah yes, because that’s the only reason we’d be enjoying some time together in the city of love,” she mocked and rolled her eyes.

Was she implying what she thought she was implying?

“Aww, babe,” a voice above them called. Paper Star leaned out of a nearby window and openly teased her partner in crime.

Babe?

“She caught you already?” she continued

Tigress groaned again, “not my fault you got easy mode.”

Paper Star jumped down and casually hooked her arms around Tigress’s neck.

“Well I’ve won,” she declared, “now where’s my prize?”

The last thing Carmen expected was for the two of them to kiss right there in front of her, and yet that was exactly what they did.

“I did not need to see that!” She complained.

“You were the one who interrupted our date!” Tigress complained back.

“Do you seriously want me to believe that you two were just spending the evening together in the Louvre as a date?”

“Was that not what you and your little agent were doing too?” Paper Star teased.

Carmen’s reflex was to say no, but… was that what they were doing? They had been walking around, sightseeing, talking and laughing and enjoying each other’s company and- oh god Carmen almost confessed to her back there. 

This was her chance to have a proper date with Jules and it got ruined right at the finish line because of a mission that didn’t even exist in the first place!

She would have time to figure all of this out later, right now she had a job to do and two smug assholes to put in their place. Thankfully she already knew just how to do that.

“You’re right, it was very rude of me to interrupt your romantic evening,” Carmen raised her hands in surrender and backed away, “how about you two get back to what you were doing and I can arrest you both tomorrow?”

“What?” Tigress challenged, “no romantic chase over the rooftops of Paris?”

“I’m sure your girlfriend would love that,” Paper Star added.

“Actually I think Julia would rather just have you behind bars,” she shrugged.

Right on cue the ACME’s blue sleep gas finally reached the both of them, making them both drop on the spot. It was kinda cute how they were put to sleep still holding each other. Carmen almost felt bad for arresting them. Almost.

She pulled her grappling hook again and launched herself through the open window above, landing right next to a very proud Julia Argent.

“Two for one,” Carmen praised, “at this rate, pretty soon you won’t be needing my help anymore.”

“I appreciate the compliment, but I had my partner down there to keep them in place,” Julia replied playfully. Carmen’s heart skipped a beat at the word ‘partner’, even though she knew she meant it as coworkers.

“Always happy to play distraction for you, Jules,” she played along.

Taking another step forward, Carmen felt her sense of balance completely leave her as she accidentally inhaled some sleep gas fumes. 

She tumbled forward, but before she hit the ground she felt Julia’s arms holding her up. It took her a second to shake away the effects of the gas, and another second to process the position they were in. How Julia was holding her like she had just dipped her in a dance.

For a moment they froze, staring into each other’s eyes as they held onto each other, until finally Julia helped her up again.

“I’m so sorry about that,” Julia apologized as she tried to fix up Carmen’s scuffed clothes.

“It’s fine,” Carmen assured her, “I should’ve been more careful around the sleep gas.”

Still Julia fussed over her, readjusting Carmen’s hoodie as she muttered a few more apologies. It took her a moment to notice just how close they were both standing now. The realization made her jump back a bit on reflex, but still she remained considerably close to Carmen.

She took a moment to collect herself before finally asking, “so uh- you had something you wanted to tell me?”

Carmen sighed in relief. Good to know those two hadn’t completely destroyed her chances.

“I just wanted to say that I really enjoyed our time together today,” she admitted, “before we got interrupted that is.”

Julia gave her a genuine smile that made her heart stop, “I enjoyed our time too. It’s nice to be able to talk about these things outside of work.”

“Yeah,” she agreed, feeling her confidence return bit by bit, “wanna do that again sometime? Maybe over some coffee.”

Jules seemed surprised at first as she caught on to what Carmen meant, but that expression was quickly replaced by a playful smile.

“Carmen Sandiego,” she called, “are you asking me out on a date?”

“Nothing escapes ACME’s best detective,” she joked, “I guess I am.”

“Then I’ll have to ask you to wait a little for my answer,” she asked.

Carmen opened her mouth to say that she was more than fine with waiting however long she needed, but she was frozen mid motion when Julia’s lips met her own. A quick, sweet little peck. 

“I want to finish our first before we plan the second.”

#carmen sandiego #julia argent #carulia #julesthief #fanfic

[yunospotpotatoes]

𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝟦

Warning: 18+ content, explicit language 

A/n: I hope you guys are enjoying the book so far :) also do guys like the new banner? I’m gonna try to switch up every chapter depending on what’s going on in the story! I already updated the banners for the other chapters

|| {𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳} || {𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘵 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳} || {𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵} ||

  .・。.・゜ ☾ ・.・ ⎊ ・゜・。..・。.・゜ ⎊ ・.・  ☽ ・゜・。.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖒𝖆𝖓 𝖎𝖓 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖌𝖊

Tired of sightseeing, Akira made her way across the eye-patched man who has yet to introduce himself. The burning gaze was growing hotter on his forehead as he saw her studying him “My name is Nick Fury I’m the director of SHIELD.” Immediately went back to look over his files, not much of a talker huh? Starting to get impatient with all the silence she went ahead and asked.

“So why exactly have you brought me here cause I had a hot date with one of those security guards back at the base.” Placing the documents down he finally met her curious eyes “Sorry you’re gonna have to cancel. The reason why I brought you here is because we can use somebody with your particular skill set.” Keeping a close eye to see if this caught her attention “Last time I remember government agencies don’t hire professional killers to join whatever this is.” Waving her hands around the chain clanging with it.

“Well we’re not an ordinary agency, let's just say we’re what the government brings in when they can’t handle national to global threats.”

Legs crossed and arms raised resting on the desk “And what would I benefit from working with you guys?” 

“Well considering you have a bounty over your head in every continent and all your assets have been either stripped away or frozen I’d say you’d be benefitting a lot from working with us.” Mimicking the same position she posed now locked on a full blown stare down, neither one giving in. A few more seconds passed by until she blinked “UGH that’s no fair you only have one eye so you don’t have to worry about the other one watering!”

Tired of the kiddy games he wanted a clear answer “So what do you think you are willing to join?”

“You know it wouldn’t look so good on my criminal record that a killer suddenly joined a government organization. Scratch the bounty on my head they’ll want to kill me just for the fun of it.” Leaned back in her chair “So no thank you I rather—” 

“No need to worry about them, those are minor to no threat compared to what we deal with on a daily basis.” His persistence knows no bounds as he continued to try to persuade her. “Geez Nick you just don’t give up do you?” 

“Don’t call me Nick it's either Director Fury or just Fury.” Dumbified at what she’s hearing right now. What is with all these guys not wanting to be called by their first name?? “Okay whatever Nick does this job come with pay cause if not I’m gonna walk–” Not standing for the attitude he threw some back at her “No we're doing charity work to end world hunger of course you get paid.” 

“Hey you shouldn’t joke about ending world hunger, it's a serious issue” in a teasing voice. Running her fingers through her hair the thought of getting paid to kill again sounded enticing but what would that cost her. “Before I agree, what's the catch? I’m pretty sure not everybody would be so thrilled of you recruiting me.”

“Of course we’ll have to monitor you at all times in case you go off the rails. I wouldn't want another incident like the Philippines to happen again. The near thought of that place sent a panic through her body. Taking it as a threat she stood up peering down at the man, anger filled her eyes “How do you know about that?” Each and every word dripped with venom the thought of somebody knowing what happened that day was mortifying. “Why you wouldn’t think I didn’t know a little bit about your past before bringing you here?” 

Not liking how he answered her question with question she wanted answers now “Fuck. You. Tell me how you know.” 

“Jesus, you kiss your mother with that mouth?”

“Never knew her. Now talk.”

Not commenting on what she said he continued “I have my sources. I can't say I know much but what was left of the building looked like it was caused by a tsunami, earthquake, tornado, and volcanic eruption all at once. Of course it would cause suspicion so we looked into it and what that place was originally for. All the connections lead back to you. That’s all I know, I swear.”

“Huh your word means shit to me” the irritation was clear in her voice as she sat back down the nervous tick surfaced back up as she bounced her leg up and down. “No deal I’m getting out of here–”

“Need I remind all your assets have been frozen and if you walk out of this facility right now there will be a bigger target on your back. And if that doesn’t give you enough incentive there are other means to make you stay.” Slowly laughing to herself finally his true intentions come to surface. “You just want to keep a close eye on the freak of nature and use me whenever you so fit don’t you?”

“Use is not a word to describe our little arrangement, think of it more as I scratch your back and you scratch mine. A mutual relationship between people.” 

Chuckling once again “and how many exactly did you ensnare with that line.” Still waiting for an answer, the man glared. Rolling her eyes she took the deal “fine I’ll join you but as soon as this gig doesn’t benefit me anymore I’m out.” 

Finally a sense of relief washed over the man knowing one of the most possibly dangerous human beings on earth agreed to use her powers to fight for the better side of two evils. “Good now that we got that out of the way Agent Coulson will show you around to get you adjusted.” As soon as he said that the elevator door opens with said man inside.

 “What the fuck are you some kind of magical wizard or something? You can’t just say that was a coincidence??”

 Tossing a key her way for the cuffs “Coincidence. Now get out.” 

With only him in the office he picked up the file that was pulled out of the archives before her arrival. One of his agents was able to recover a few documents a few years ago but most of them burnt to a crisp. Surprisingly this one was coated in some kind of installation to keep from withering away.

Opening the folder the first thing he noticed was a strange symbol of two swords crossing each with circles surrounding them. Nick Fury knows a lot of things but this organization never popped on their radar until Akira made some racket all over Asia. “The Ten Rings what a stupid name.” A few pictures that were included in the file, most of them were of Akira but there was one asian man that appeared in the rest. The strangest thing was the pictures were taken years apart but he looked the exact same in every one of them. Next was a report, they had to translate it first since most of it was in Chinese characters but what he found after was shocking.

Analysis Report:

𝙽𝚊𝚖𝚎:  𝘈𝘬𝘪𝘳𝘢 𝘈𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘦

𝙰𝚐𝚎:  19 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘰𝘭𝘥

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛:  𝘍𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘦

𝙷𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝:  5'3 𝘧𝘵, 160.02 𝘤𝘮

𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚜: 𝘈𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦

𝙰𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎: 𝘊𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘭 𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘦, 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘧𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘬𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘯, 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘪𝘥 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘤𝘶𝘵 𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴. 𝘜𝘴𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘧𝘰𝘹 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘬.

𝙿𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛: 

𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘭 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴: 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳, 𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘩, 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦, 𝘢𝘪𝘳.

—𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘢 𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘨𝘦 𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘯, 𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘦. 𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘣𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘶𝘯𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦. 𝘐𝘧 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘥… 

𝘚𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘺𝘱𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘱𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘢𝘳 𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘧𝘧. 

—𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘶𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥. 

𝘞𝘦𝘢𝘱𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭: 𝘚𝘯𝘪𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘭𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘬𝘯𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴

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𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜: 𝘋𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦𝘥

𝙳𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝙱𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚑: ???

𝙿𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝙱𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚑: ???

𝙰𝚕𝚒𝚊𝚜: 𝘏ē𝘪 𝘩ú𝘭í𝘫ī𝘯𝘨, 𝘉𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘧𝘰𝘹, 𝘒𝘢𝘭𝘪 𝘔𝘢𝘢

𝙰𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗: 𝘛𝘦𝘯 𝘙𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴

𝙲𝚛𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚜:

𝘔𝘶𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘒𝘪𝘥𝘯𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨

𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘧𝘵

𝘉𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘭

𝘈𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘶𝘭𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘉𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘺

𝘌𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘨𝘦

𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘴 𝘔𝘶𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝚃𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚁𝚎𝚐𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚗: 

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Closing the file the things that were written in the report left an unsettling feeling in his stomach “And I thought the strangest thing on this planet were Denvers and Shapeshifters.” 

     .・。.・゜ ☾ ・.・ ⎊ ・゜・。..・。.・゜ ⎊ ・.・  ☽ ・゜・。.

Back in the elevator there was silence between the two. “I could be wrong but isn’t there usually music that plays in an elevator?” Looking over at the man “yeah Fury has a thing about no music in the elevators.” This place is so weird. Body rocking back and forth, trying to ignore to keep herself entertained. He noticed how uncomfortable she was so deciding to break the ice he spoke out. “My apologies, I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Phil Coulson, you can call me Phil.” Offered a hand to her as she shook it back “finally a person who goes by their given name! I like you Phil.” Not knowing what she meant she explained “you know how Anthony goes by Tony and Nick goes by Fury. Like nobody uses their birth given name” her hands flailing about as she goes on. “I swear it’s like I’m surrounded by divas! Also you can call me Akira formalities, not really my thing.” Nodding to her claim he chuckled to himself. 

It was like a breath of fresh air having somebody young join the company. “So I heard you’ll be joining this grumpy group of divas glad to have you aboard.” Shocked at how nice this man was with a sense of humor too, it caught her by surprise to come across someone so genuine and kind. She didn’t know how to react but gave a nod in return after a minute she regained her sarcastic demeanor. “Yeah that’s only until it doesn’t benefit me anymore” leaned back onto the rail trying to play off her earlier reaction. 

He could tell from her body movement and her reaction that there’s more than just a sarcastic and witty behavior she portrays but not wanting to start off on the wrong foot he decided not to comment on it. The ding of the elevator caught both their attention as they reached the floor of the main operating base. “How about a little tour before we head out. Shall we?” He waited till she exited out the elevator before following her.

     .・。.・゜ ☾ ・.・ ⎊ ・゜・。..・。.・゜ ⎊ ・.・  ☽ ・゜・。.

After a quick tour around SHIELD’s base they were about to leave until Coulson stopped in front of a room “one more thing.” He told her to wait there so he could grab something. With nothing to do she fiddled with the silver bracelet she always wore. She never knew who gave it to her. The person in charge of her training at the ten rings said it was with her already when they ‘found’ her. Those years spent of her childhood in the ten rings was pure torture day in and day out was gruesome training. Getting lost in thought she didn’t notice Coulson came back with a bag of clothes standing in front of her. Waving a hand in front of her face she finally broke from her trance. He gave her a soft smile before handing her the bag “before we go I’m gonna need you to change into these.” She looked at the clothes then him then back to the clothes “what’s wrong with the clothes I’m wearing now?” She asked fully confident in sweatpants and simple t-shirt

“Since you’re now a part of SHIELD you got to look the part.” Giving her his award winning smile, weirdly she wasn’t able to turn down his request with such a sincere smile. She accepted her fate and walked into a bathroom a few feet away from them. Waiting for her near the door checking his watch not wanting to be late for the meeting. A loud bang came from the bathroom along with a string of curses. “COULSON!!!!” The voice came right outside the door.

“Yes Miss Akira, is there a problem?” 

“OH YEAH WE GOT A PROBLEM you can’t really expect me to wear this?!?!” Refusing to come out of the bathroom “what’s wrong with the outfit I gave you? Was it the wrong size?”

Speaking through the door she aired out her concerns “no its not the size it's the style there’s no way I’m wearing this out.” Not understanding what she meant he asked what’s wrong “just please bring me something else I can actually move in.” 

Not wanting to upset the young woman he complied “of course Miss Akira” turning away to get a different set of clothes. “And Phil.” 

“Yes?”

“I already told you to just call me Akira.”

Stifling a laugh he walked away “yes of course”

     .・。.・゜ ☾ ・.・ ⎊ ・゜・。..・。.・゜ ⎊ ・.・  ☽ ・゜・。.

Where they were heading only took about thirty minutes as they parked right outside a big conference hall. News vans lined up all the way to the streets “what the fuck is happening? Is Leonardo here by chance? OH maybe Pitbull is having a concert!” The plethora of jokes that kept spilling out of her mouth will never leave you bored. “Not quite sorry to disappoint but it’s important nonetheless” exiting out of his side of the car. With her following right after they walked up into the main entrance the buzzing of reporters grew louder the closer they got. 

“Also why exactly do I have to wear this stuffy suit. We look like the men in black.”

“Well I did give you the first option–“

“No. no way in hell am I wearing a stupid pencil skirt! Like how do you expect me to fight in something that I can hardly move in.” Grumbling to herself, finally they made it to the main area of the conference hall. You couldn’t see who was presenting from all the people standing in front of her. It doesn’t help that she was born on the short side but since she was just tagging along she didn’t really care why they were here. They stopped right next to a woman looking out for somebody,

“Excuse me Miss Potts.” Said woman turned to them.

“Can I speak to you for a moment?”

“I’m sorry I’m not part of the press conference but it's about to begin.”

“I’m not a reporter. I’m Agent Phil Coulson and this my protegee Akira were with the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division”

“He means were with the organization to keep Leonardo Dicaprio safe from elbow terrorist attack.” Pushed back behind him as he continued the conversation.

The lady giggled at her response “I’m sorry but I don’t follow but right now were really busy plus we’ve already been approached by the DOD, the FBI, and the CIA–”

“We’re a separate division with a more specific focus” Nodding along to prove she was paying attention. “We need to debrief Mr. Stark about the circumstances of his escape.” As soon as she registered those words ‘Mr. Stark’ and ‘escape’ her eyes bulged out of her head. Slowly shadowing herself behind Coulson growing lost in thought. Stupid Anthony it’s all his fault I’m stuck in this situation! Just wait till I get my hands on him I’ll–

“Let’s go Akira, we’re done here.” He made his way back to the entrance not wanting to be rude. She gave the blond lady a slight bow as she followed after him. 

Pepper smiled her way watching her leave with the man.

“What a cute kid.”

     .・。.・゜ ☾ ・.・ ⎊ ・゜・。..・。.・゜ ⎊ ・.・  ☽ ・゜・。.

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