#personally i think he should’ve been allowed to skip any press events

[reiding-writing]

hi! could you write prompt 6 from the angsty dialogue prompts for the climacteric event? fem/gn reader whatever you prefer, i was thinking that reader finds out something about spencer and it results in this messy situation, but honestly how you want to do it is all up to you!

JEALOUSY [CLIMACTERIC]

6. “Don’t touch me.”

WARNINGS: spencer is a bit of a twat but apologises profusely afterwards, arguing, happy? ending

spencer reid x gn!reader || angst || 2.5k || event masterlist!!

main masterlist!!

a/n: majority vote chose this one to come out first 🫶 they also chose for it to have a happy ending bc y’all are really boring /j (i love you guys you aren’t boring i swear 🫶)

Spencer Reid grew up too fast.

He was remarkably smart for his age, that much was a given, but in terms of emotional development Spencer was forced to skip what should’ve been his childhood.

He didn’t get to experience what it felt like be praised over a rudimentary piece of ‘art’ by his parents, because he was ‘too intelligent’ for that.

He didn’t get to go out on a Saturday morning with his father to learn how to play a ball game because his dad was never around.

He didn’t get to be coddled by his mother when he cried because by the time he was nine he was her full time carer.

Ironically, his childhood was an era of time where he could barely remember a single detail, despite his renowned eidetic memory, and it only seemed to further prove that Spencer Reid’s childhood didn’t exist.

All he could remember was what didn’t happen. The key milestones of his life that he never got to live through.

To say that impacted his emotional availability was an understatement. Spencer had never been one to ask for help from other people, but in instances where he really felt like he was about to fall apart it was even worse. He’d grown up with the expectation that he was responsible for his own well being. That him and him alone was the only thing that could get him through whatever dark patch that he went through.

He didn’t need anyone else. He wasn’t allowed anyone else. It was just him, always.

You were decidedly the opposite. You wore your emotions on your sleeve, and for the most part, Spencer found it entirely refreshing to watch you be able to express yourself with no holds barred and no internal monologue telling you that what you were doing was wrong.

Sometimes he wished he could do the same.

There were times of his career where he wished you’d do something wrong, that you’d make a mistake or cross a boundary and it’d allow him to exert all of the anger and deep-seeded jealously he felt whenever he saw you be so open with yourself.

He knew it was horrible of him, and more often than not the minute those thoughts invaded his mind he thought of nothing more than how much of a terrible person he was. He was wishing ill on you just because you’d managed to have a healthy emotional output.

Because he was inherently broken from all the years of keeping everything to himself.

“Are you okay?”

Spencer furrowed his eyebrows at the sound of your voice, gaze turning upwards from the mug of coffee sitting on the kitchenette counter to meet your face, covered in worry lines as you furrow your own eyebrows.

He hated when you looked at him like that. Like he was something to be pitied.

“I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be?” Spencer presses his lips together in an awkward line of a smile, a staple of his character that seemed much less genuine than usual from your point of view.

“You’ve uh- You’ve been stood here staring at your mug for almost five minutes,” Spencer flickers his eyes up to the analogue clock on the wall at your declaration.

You were right, he’d been stood in a state of dissociation for almost a whole five minutes without realising it. Great, that’s just wonderful. Like his life couldn’t get any worse.

“Everything’s fine,” He gives you another one of those awkward smiles as he takes his mug in between both of his hands, the ceramic barely even warm anymore, which tells him that his coffee isn’t hot enough for him to actually enjoy it, but right now he’d take a cup of warm coffee over standing here talking to you about his ‘feelings’.

But you’ve never made things easy.

“It’s not though is it? Something’s wrong Spencer, everyone in the office can tell,” You sigh softly at the indignation on his face as you prod at what’s going on inside his head. “We’re worried about you…” You reach out your hand slowly to lay it on his arm, and he pulls away from you without a second thought.

“Please don’t touch me,” He takes a step to the side, clearly trying to bypass you and get back to his desk so he can escape the conversation. “I said I’m fine.”

“And you’re lying Spencer.” You step in the same direction that he does, effectively blocking his path out of the kitchenette. “We need to know what the issue is or we can’t help you Spencer,” Your voice is tinged with a small amount of desperation, and it irks Spencer in a way that he can’t even fully comprehend.

“You want to know what the issue is?” He puts his mug back down on the counter with enough force that small droplets of coffee spill over the rim and onto the granite underneath it. “It’s you.”

He leans forward slightly like he’s trying to emphasise his point. “You are the issue.”

His words hit you like a ton of bricks, and all of a sudden you’re regretting caring so much.

God you’re beginning to regret even waking up this morning. Maybe that would’ve spared you from the stake in your heat that was Spencer Reid explicitly telling you that you were the sole reason why he was acting differently. Why he was being cold and distant from the team and their genuine want to just make sure he’s okay.

Because they couldn’t do that. Because you were a part of the team. And as long as you were there that coldness wouldn’t go away.

“Right…” You press your lips into a line. “Sorry for asking.”

Spencer regrets what he said almost as soon as the words come out of his mouth. He watches as that usual sparkle of compassion in your eyes literally fizzles out right in front of him, and all of a sudden he feels like an absolutely horrible person.

As you turn to leave he reaches out a hand to stop you. He doesn’t know what he’s going to say, how could he possibly redeem himself after a comment like that? But his body runs on autopilot and all he knows is that he needs to apologise to you. “Wait—”

“Don’t— touch me Reid,” You pull your arms further into yourself to stop him from reaching out to them, and he swears his heart breaks at the sight of you being dismissive. And then there was the added blow of you using his surname to further distance yourself from him and making him want to cut out his tongue so saying something so rash with absolutely zero provocation. “I understood you the first time.”

It was a complete turn of your character, all semblance of warmth and vulnerability evaporated and replaced with a cold, hard shell that Spencer could see calcifying behind your eyes.

“I-“

“I’ll leave you be now.”

And with that you disappear around the corner, leaving Spencer alone with his thoughts. His terrible thoughts that rightfully pummel him into the ground for so much as suggesting that you could ever be a problem.

—

When you said you’d “Leave him be”, he didn’t think it meant you’d literally avoid him like the plague. God you’d even roped Emily into switching desks with you so you wouldn’t have to sit opposite him anymore.

How was he supposed to grovel for your forgiveness if you wouldn’t so much as spare him a glance?

How was he supposed to explain to the team that the reason the two of you suddenly weren’t talking to each other was because he’d fucked up so badly that he felt like he was going to implode?

And most importantly, how on earth was Spencer Reid supposed to make you listen to him so he could explain himself and try to reconcile with you?

He’d considered cornering you in the break room, or catching you in an elevator on your way to the parking lot, but he knew that would only make things worse.

He’d considered turning up to your apartment your favourite snacks and begging you to let him inside, but that would be weird and borderline stalkerish.

He was really running out of ideas, and the longer he went without saying something the deeper he felt he was being pulled into the pit of despair that he’d dug himself to the point where he wasn’t sure if he as going to be able to claw himself out of it.

He had to speak to you. And he had to make sure that you didn’t run away.

The opportunity practically handed itself to him during a case. He knew budget cuts would mean that the team paired up when staying at a NYC hotel, and after some under the table begging for the other team members to room with each other so you didn’t have any choice but to room with him, he took his chance.

There was a very obvious blanket of tension between the two of you as you entered the room together, your apparent vow of silence continuing as you dump your bag on one of the twin beds to claim it as your own before shutting yourself into the bathroom to ready yourself for sleep.

He could tell that you weren’t happy about the arrangement, and despite how much you were distancing yourself from him you still wore your emotions on your sleeve, and right now they were telling him that you would literally rather be anywhere else.

You skirt past him as you exit the bathroom in your pyjamas, leaving your clothes and your bag on one of the decorative chairs to climb into bed with the continued silent treatment you’re serving him.

Spencer sighs dejectedly as he watches you take a seat on the edge of the bed with your back to him. “Can we talk? Please?”

“What is there to talk about?” Your voice washes him like a cold shower, your vocal chords dipped in ice and your words a perfect combination of blunt and dismissive. He can’t see your expression as you speak, but has a pretty good idea of the furrowing of your eyebrows and the narrowing of your gaze.

“I want—” Spencer lets out another sigh, raking his fingers through his hair in internal frustration. “I need to apologise to you. What I said was horrible and I’m sorry,”

“I don’t forgive you.”

As much as the words cut through his heart like a knife, he can’t blame you.

“I understand… I just wanted you to know that I really regret what I said, and that it’s been tearing me up thinking about it,”

“Right…” You let out a short, sarcastic laugh that causes Spencer’s eyebrows to furrow. “Because it’s all about you right?”

“That’s not what I—”

“Goodnight Reid.” You punctuate your sentence by shutting of the lamp on your side of the room, officially putting an end to your side of the ‘conversation’.

Spencer wasn’t done with it quite yet.

“I’m jealous of you. That’s why I said that ‘you were an issue’. You’re not. I am the issue and I was projecting it on to you. That was unfair of me and I need you to understand that I am apologising to do right by you, not to make myself feel better.”

“You have no reason to be jealous of me Reid,” You still haven’t turned to face him, but he’d rather be talking to your back than not be talking to you at all.

“Please stop calling me that..” Spencer lets out a small breath at the end of his sentence, words tinged with a small amount of desperation. He didn’t want to be ‘Reid’ in your mind, he wanted to be Spencer. “I have a lot to be jealous of when it comes to you,” Admitting his faults outright made him feel nauseous, but he needed to break this brick wall you’d built around yourself when it came to him.

He couldn’t stand being an outsider in your life.

“I mean, you’re sweet, kind, you have an inherent knack for social situations that I could only dream of possessing,” He takes a small break in his sentence to nervously chew on the inside of his lip. “and your emotional vulnerability makes me so jealous of you that I want to just—” He exhales sharply.

“It’s very easy to be jealous of you,”

There’s a small pause after Spencer’s confession, tension lingering in the air as he watches you aimlessly fiddle with the edge of the sheets whilst you debate how to respond.

“Those are stupid things to be jealous of,”

Spencer physically deflates at your answer. “They’re not, people like you are envied because you’re so open with yourself, that’s something not a lot of people have, myself included,” Spencer takes a small step forward, cautious about scaring you off if he approached too quickly. “even if I wish I did..”

He places a deft hand on your shoulder and you jolt at the contact.

“I’m really sorry.” His voice drops to a point where it’s almost inaudible, and you swear you can hear his voice catch as he tries to maintain his composure. “I don’t want to fight with you anymore… please,”

You let out a small sigh of indignation, and Spencer knows he’s won you over. “Fine,”

“Thank you,” He gives your shoulder a small squeeze, and you return it with one of your own as you rest your hand on top of his.

“I’m still angry with you,”

“I know…”

“You’ve got a hell of a job making up for it,”

“I know,”

“Good,” You finally turn to look over your shoulder at him, and Spencer is glad to see that your expression isn’t one of loathing or frustration. “Get some sleep Spencer,”

“Okay…” He gives you a soft nod and a half-awkward smile, the sound of his name rolling off your tongue one that fills him with more contentment than it probably should. “Goodnight…” He hesitantly pulls his hand from your shoulder to walk back to his own hotel bed, walking as you tuck yourself into yours.

“Goodnight Spencer, we’ll talk about this in the morning,”

“Yeah… Thank you…”

Spencer flicks off the lamp beside him, relaxing as the room is shrouded into darkness and allowing himself to get the first proper night of rest he had in weeks now that he’s finally made his peace with you.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid angst #criminal minds angst #mgg #climacteric 🪶

[jensonsbuttons]

hmmm okay but maybe we shouldn’t put press duties first if you’re an athlete struggling from any sort of health issues (mental or physical) and make sure that we start to prioritize athletes overall health (again mental or physical)

#idk man again if sports have taught me anything it’s that we need to respect athletes health better #everything that happened with Naomi when she didn’t speak to the press #every single bit of backlash that Simone got this past week (which is…don’t even get me started) #now Lewis today after the race #the man did not look well on the podium and we have a break coming up #personally i think he should’ve been allowed to skip any press events #and they can have a statement put out by Merc or someone from Lewis’ team later #I’m glad he was able to say he was okay himself but idk personally I just think they should prioritize health more #idk also Novak withdrew from the tennis tourney as well for physical reasons and like #idk that should be fine but I’ve still seen little bits of backlash of oh it’s only cause you didn’t do this or that #like literally please just let athletes prioritize health that’s the bottom line #delete later #maybe idk this isn’t that controversial I just don’t want to get anybody started #and before anyone says oh you have a duty to your team though you don’t get it #I do get it I’ve played sports all my life all the way through college I played through injuries #and looking back on it? that was a stupid decision on my chance #I should’ve been able to prioritize my health and well being over my supposed duty to the team #if they’re really my team and teammates they’ll understand why I’m sitting out

[ptergwen]

favorite crime

w/c: 1.6k

warnings: swearing, mentions of blood / death, lots n lots of angst

summary: you convince peter to go on the run after he’s framed for murdering mysterio, but he doesn’t want to drag you into his mess

a/n: this was completely based off the song by olivia lfmbsjfhs it’s so beautiful and i’ve wanted to write something for it for a while now so yee i hope y’all like ! pls lmk what you think <3

-

“we have to get you out of here, peter! come on!” you shout back to your boyfriend and tug his hand that’s laced with yours.

peter doesn’t budge. even when your grip on him tightens, when you pull him forward with all your might, he remains stoic.

there’s something he needs to do, and he’s been contemplating it since the day he met you.

it’s time to let you go.

“please, peter. i’m begging. i know you’re tired of running, but if we don’t leave now… they’ll find you,” you desperately choke out. peter squeezes his eyes shut, dreading what’s to come. “i can’t do this to you anymore, y/n. i… i’m sorry.”

emergency sirens and flashing lights approach the old apartment building serving as yours and peter’s latest hideout. the whole world is on the lookout for him, so you two stowed yourselves away in brooklyn for a bit.

you were hopeful the rumors would pass eventually — about how peter shot the beloved mysterio and left him to die in cold blood. they’re merely talk, of course. you’d personally seen the events of that day unfold on the tower bridge. hell, your class was right at the center of them.

quentin beck was pure evil, so rotten he defamed both peter and spider-man with a charge as cruel as murder. he’s wreaking havoc on him from beyond the grave, over a complete misunderstanding that peter had nothing to do with.

beck’s true source of anger is stark industries. yet, once again, peter ended up the collateral damage.

he was deemed a wanted murderer. posters revealing his name and face were plastered up around the city, a reward even being offered to whoever who turns him in.

you’d proposed the idea of skipping town until things settled. the way you saw it, it was peter’s only option other than prison for twenty-five to life. peter was panicking and couldn’t think straight, so he went along with your getaway plan.

a few weeks later, he’s regretting it.

you’ve been the one person he could trust through this madness. you’re right there to console him, to protect him just like he does you. through sickness and health, life and clearly death, you stick by peter’s side. you left everything behind without a second thought, for him.

peter loves you more than you’ll ever fully be able to comprehend, which is why he can’t ask you to do that. this is his battle to fight, not yours or anyone else’s. his.

you suddenly freeze in your tracks, turning around to look at peter. “what are you talking about? you’re fine, pete.”

his eyes roam everywhere except to yours as they water. blinking back tears, he fixes his gaze on your intertwined hands. you notice a stray tear fall down his cheek and use one of your thumbs to wipe it away, then press a reassuring kiss to his lips. peter lets himself reciprocate momentarily before jerking back.

“please just… stop being so nice to me. you’re making this way harder than i wanted to to be,” he rasps and squeezes your hand tighter. you’re still lost, absolutely clueless about what he’s referring to.

“look, pete. i wanna hear you out, baby. but… i think it should wait until we get to jersey.” you keep your voice as calm as possible, though you’re terrified for both of you. since the feds know your location, they’ll have the place surrounded any minute.

hopping cities isn’t cutting it anymore, so you’ll have to change states this time. new jersey is next on your list.

using his strength to his advantage to hold you in place, peter seizes both your shoulders. his bloodshot eyes lock with yours. a stern expression coats his features, one you’ve seen from him yet never been on the receiving end of.

“we’re not going to jersey, y/n/n,” he declares, the sirens starting to grow louder. you feel a pit forming in your stomach. “we have to!” you immediately protest. “it’s not gonna be easy finding our way, but it’s the last-“

peter cuts you off, voice softer now. “no, no. that’s not what i meant.” he waits a beat and inhales a deep breath, aiming to settle his nerves. it doesn’t.

“i’m going to jersey. you’re staying.”

tears cloud your vision the second those words leave his mouth. you shake your head furiously back and forth, willing him to take them back.

part of you was always afraid peter would get second thoughts. not only about running away with you, about ever being with you. you’re both so young. your entire lives are ahead of you, and peter won’t allow you to risk your own because this isn’t worth a single bit of it.

he’d warned you how dangerous it was to be associated with spider-man. it’s why he held off on telling you about his alias for the longest he could. you naturally began asking questions whenever peter bailed on dates and showed up to school covered in bruises. he hated lying to you, using his stark internship as an excuse, so he finally came out and said it.

peter sometimes wonders if you’d be better off not knowing at all. it’s too late now, though.

“wait, what? why- why can’t i go with you?” you plead, peter’s fingers coming up to cup your cheek. his fingertips lightly caress your skin. “i’m a criminal, y/n. you’d be my accessory.”

it takes everything in him not to break down and sob along with you.

you lean into his palm, already missing his touch. “i don’t care... i don’t give a fuck. i just wanna be with you, peter.” peter literally has to bite his tongue to fight the urge to cry. hands grabbing either side of his head, your fingers twist in his hair roughly. “i’ll do anything, pete. i really will, i swear. name it.”

peter threads his own fingers through yours again, bringing your hands to his chest.

“i’m so sorry, angel. i never should’ve gotten you involved,” he murmurs out and pecks your forehead. “you have nothing to prove to me, okay? you’ve done more than enough. i’m gonna return the favor.”

you let out a strangled whine, your knees buckling as you come to terms with the gravity of your situation.

this is it. this is the end of yours and peter’s story.

“hey, none of that. it’s okay,” peter coos, neither of you convinced. the tastes of salt and metal flood both your senses. he helps you back up and hugs your waist, peppering your cheeks in more kisses. you’re bawling now, arms wound around his neck, clutching at his tattered jacket.

free tears escape peter’s eyes at last. “i love you. i love you so goddamn much, y/n. never forget it,” he nearly whispers. you sniffle and push your forehead against his. “i’m not saying it back ‘cuz that feels like a goodbye, and i- i can’t say goodbye to you yet.”

“it’s not a goodbye,” peter reassures you, rubbing circles on your lower back. “it’s, uh, it’s a see you later. i’m gonna figure something out and be back to you before you know it. can’t get rid of me that easy.”

that earns a faint giggle from you, peter managing a grin. you two attempt to ignore everything happening beyond these walls, only focusing on the other.

“then, um…” you clear your throat. “i love you.” his smile dwindling slightly, peter nods and meets your gaze. “i love you too, baby. you should probably get going soon.”

affirming his advice, a booming voice that sounds from a microphone commands peter to come out with his hands up.

your worry spikes, instinctively drawing peter in closer. he forces himself to put on a brave face for you.

“i’m scared, pete. where… where am i supposed to go?” you rush to ask him. “home, y/n/n. go home,” peter decides, pressing a final kiss to the top of your head. “just don’t get caught, and you’ll be fine.” carding your fingers in his undone curls, you sigh. “easier said than done, but i’ll try not to.”

you’d never pictured that the sweet boy with a heart too big and brain even bigger, who sings you to sleep even though his voice sucks and spends his last dollar buying you flowers, would be accused of first degree murder. it isn’t true or fucking fair.

what’s worse, he has to bare this storm alone now.

you lift your heavy backpack off the cold ground, slinging it onto your shoulders. peter stares out the window and down at the assembly of swarm troops crowded together.

“are you gonna be okay?” you catch his attention. he snaps back into reality, pulling your hood up so it covers your head. you’re wearing a sweatshirt of his, after having gone through all your own clothes. “i hope so. are you?” peter repeats your question. “i hope so,” you echo.

tying your hoodie strings tight, peter offers a smile. “say hi to may for me. ned and mj, too.” it’s going to be tough to face his family and friends after this. “i will. i’ll let them know you’re alright.” you kiss his cheek, placing a hand on his chest. peter lets your touch distract him from the mess he’s about to be hit with.

“thank you, y/n. i’ll see you soon, baby. you have my word,” he promises, stepping back so you two can go your separate ways.

you watch him with fresh tears threatening to spill.

“i’m gonna hold you to it. be safe, spidey.”

#peter parker #peter parker angst #peter parker fluff #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker imagine #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker au #peter parker smut #tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland angst #tom holland imagine #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfiction

[leomitchellart]

So… about this latest Inktober controversy….

Time to begrudgingly chuck in my two penneth… (Remeber you can always press “J” to skip this post altogether)

As most of you may or may not know, Alphonso Dunn released a Youtube video wherein he publicly accused Jake Parker, and creator of the Inktober challenge, of plagiarising his book. Both of these men are public figures, artists specialising in pen & ink. In the video Dunn looks at the preview pages and flip through footage of Parker’s “Inktober All Year Round” and says they draw many similarities in the illustrations, language and layout that he used in his own book, “Pen & Ink Drawing”. Parker’s book was set to this month. Hense why Dunn only used footage and not a physical copy.

Since the video’s release, the art community has been very spilt down the middle. The book’s publisher has halted the launch of Parker’s book until the matter can be investigated. Even DeviantArt cancelled their own Inktober event thing (I’ll admit I don’t keep up with these things DA keeps doing). Parker has since released a statement in the matter. Now it’s up to the courts to decide what’s happening next. The video itself is an hour long, but it’s crucial to see it yourself. 

People are, understandably, outraged after seeing it. This seems like a shitty thing to rip-off Dunn - not to mention stupid. Since Dunn is the more popular pen & ink artist with more social media followers and name recognition. Many have called to boycott inktober and condemn Parker. I’ll admit, I was right alongside them at first, at least for feeling outraged. The similarities are there. But if YMS’s Kimba video has taught me anything, it’s that, even if an accusation of plagiarism may be obvious at a cursory glance, sometimes it’s important to take a more critical eye and do more research to learn that things aren’t as cut and dry as they first seem. If there’s a lesson I can take away from the internet as a whole, it’s that no one thinks about the consequences of mob mentality.

The most common defence of Parker is that because they’re both books about pen and ink drawing, then they’re inevitably going to be similar. I’ll admit that, when you pick-up so many art books, a lot of them will cover the same basic grounds of materials, tutorials, strokes, techniques etc. The parts about rendering textures on spheres and cubes isnt new. Look up “texture study” and you’ll see so many examples of artists rendering these kinds of things digitally. I’ve also noticed a common theme of people more formally educated in art pointing out how none of these are original. Everything down to the steps and illustrations are things they’ve learned from years ago. Since I'm a pen & ink artist, inspired by my love of comics, I have quite a few books about inking: Dunn’s included. I own both his books and still highly recommend them. I didn't even preorder Parker’s book. Ironically because I didn't think it could offer anything new that my other books hadn’t already.

While Ethan Becker took the time to cross-examine Dunn and Parker’s books with several others, there weren’t many of the ones I actually owned. So I looked to my shelves to see what I could find. Books like:

“The Art of Comic Book Inking” by Gary Martin & Steve Rude

“How Comics Work” by Dave Gibbons & Tim Pilcher

“The DC Comics guide to Inking Comics” by Klaus Janson

“Making Comics” by Scott McCloud

“Stan Lee’s How to Draw Comics”

I’m sure there’s plenty more examples out there. I was planning to go through all of these and take pictures. But ultimately that’s not the core point of these post. Plus it would’ve taken WAY too long and this post itself, is long enough.

Of course, none of the them are 100% close to Dunn’s in the way they’re displayed. Not as close as Parker’s could be considered. That being said, I know Dunn is trying to claim that he invented these techniques. The nucleus of the issue is how similar they are in terms of order and how these pages are displayed. Some I can chock-up to standard practice, while others seem more coincidental.

If there’s one thing I’m adamant about, it’s that I think that Dunn should’ve messaged Parker first before making the accusation public. Some try to dispute that this would've made it easier for Dunn to be “silenced”, whatever that means; but that sounds a bit conspiratorial to me. Ideally, you confront him about it in private, if he makes any threats or blows you off, get your lawyer on the phone and then make the video. Not only is it the more civil thing to do - but it’s the smarter thing to do. This is a serious legal matter, not just internet drama. While I’m sure Dunn had no intention of tearing Parker down or getting a mob onto him, that’s unfortunately what’s happened. A backlash both from the general artisan community and several companies. Wherein it was left to Parker himself to make this an official legal matter. If Parker’s found not guilty, then this could easily leave the gate open for him to sue Dunn for damages, loss of revenue, defamation of character or whatever else, should he see fit. As could the publishers, given how this affected their sales. Companies responded to the accusation of the video alone, before an investigation could be launched. Sure, it wouldn't be “acting the bigger man” but he’d be well within his right to do it. Dunn showed that Jake has mentioned him before, shown admiration for his career and referenced him in other posts. If it comes to light in court, that Dunn is even cited as an inspiration or source in the book itself, then it’s case closed. 

Then there’s the other possibility that Parker might not have done this on his own, but that he has a team behind the book. If that’s the case, the most I can accuse Parker of is being a hack. I worry Dunn has kneecapped himself for just how badly he’s handled this situation. Made worse by him not having an actual physical copy to assess and just had footage of preview pages to go on. So far, the circumstances don’t seem on his favour. 

I don’t think ill of Dunn. I do think he believes he’s been wronged and no malice in his intentions. I just think he’s made some critical errors on how to handled this. As for Parker himself, I couldn't give a donkey’s doo-dah about him. I’m sure you could accuse me of playing devil’s advocate earlier, but to me, he was the guy who released the annual prompt list. If it really does turn out that he’s a plagiarist and had malicious intent, then fuck ‘im. I never regarded him as an inspiration of mine or paid much attention to him outside of that. It was the community that made Inktober what it is. I’ve never met Parker. Maybe he’s a cool guy? Maybe he’s a bellend? I don’t know.

Granted this isn't the first time Parker has proved himself to be a controversial figure: - Last year people were upset about him trademarking (not copywriting, as many have erroneously claimed) the word “Inktober” and some artists were stopped from selling their related work or zines. Parker would issue a statement: claiming the takedowns were a mistake of “overzealous lawyers” and it’s just a matter of the logo being trademarked. People can sell their Inktober works and even mention they are Inktober-related. Just not use the official logo. On the one hand, from a business standpoint, I get it. It’s the bare minimum you need to do to protect your IP, especially when you have a store. BUT, like most people, I don’t like how, what’s intended as a community challenge, has slowly become more of a brand associated with one man. Hardly a surprise it left a bad taste in so many people’s mouths. But, since it doesn't actually effect anyone’s ability to take part in the challenge, outside of personal principle, I went ahead with it the previous year. 

 - The year before, when asked if one can do Inktober digitally, Parker said the following:

I know some are still bitter about that, but speaking as someone who inks traditionally and digitally, this came across as needless whinging and blowing things out of proportion. Claiming that Jake had derided digital artists and said they were invalid etc etc. Take it from me, challenging yourself to try out different methods to ink traditionally can greatly improve the work you do digitally. It’s like how learning traditional fundamentals of art can still be applied to digital. Plus he never said “No.” he just gave valid reasons about how it makes it a different experience. That said, if you’re someone who can’t afford any kind of inking equipment or pens and only have a selected application to draw on - then none of this applies to you. Just the aforementioned few who took it upon themselves to get angry over nothing. Recently I’ve heard from subscribers of his newsletter that he’s now embraced the idea of people doing inktober digitally, to the point of selling digital brushes for inktober. I’m sure some will call this “backsliding” or “money grubbing” because people aren’t allowed to change their minds or update their statements.

For weeks I’ve been torn on what to do, not being able to solidify one stance over another. One minute I thought #JusticeForAlphonsoDunn then I wonder “Wait maybe I should look again?” to “But wait, those are way too similar!” Having splinters in my arse from sitting on the fence for so long. The longer this went on, however, I began to realise that I can’t take one stance over another. This case is far too muddy and complicated. I don’t have enough sufficient knowledge or evidence. Nor do any of you. We literally only have Dunn’s video to go on. While it’s a good start, it’s not enough to be taken 100% as gospel when it’s the only thing to hand. 

As previously mentioned, a lot of artists have decided to not take part in Inktober at all, or follow different prompt lists. That’s completely fine. A lot of them are based around a specific theme: halloween, kinky stuff, bears, transformers, OCs, Disney or whatever. That has massive appeal. I just can’d do it myself. I prefer the focus on random words, rather than all centred on a single subject; allowing me to be creative with my ideas and execution. I actually did try to make a list of my own random words. Problem is, I worried that because I was choosing my own, I might be subconsciously bias towards certain prompts and not truly challenging myself. Even narrowing down my options was taking too long. In the end…. I’ve decided to just do the official prompts again this year.

For me, that’s what it ultimately came down to. TIME. It’s the middle of September. I can’t afford to wait for the court case to be settled. No other prominent artists I respect have released their own prompt lists. I know there’s been some shitty people who are condemning this choice. Attacking others, accusing them of supporting plagiarism, looking to block anyone who does the official prompts. Even trying to make this a racial issue. Just…. no. 

If someone doesn’t want to take part in Inktober, that’s fine. If someone wants to do the official prompts, that’s fine. If someone wants to do their own prompts, that’s fine.

Don’t go around aggressively making snap judgements or accusing people of taking a side. Do whatever makes you feel comfortable. This has been a shit year, let people enjoy something.

If you look at this situation and it makes you feel angry, and you don’t feel comfortable in taking part in a challenge because of it’s creator. I get that, I literally get that. It’s why I haven't done Mermay. And please don’t mention Pinktober, I’m aware of it, but given his insta video on the subject and the things he said, I quickly came to the conclusion that I can’t take this person seriously. I’m sure this might make me seem hypocritical, but how this differs, if only for me, is the sheer amount Inktober means to me. It’s more than a simple challenge. Inktober's the one thing I’ve been most excited about all year. As it was ruined for me in 2019, when I lost my home and I didn't get to complete every prompt. (Long story, I’m okay now). As we all know, 2020, has been an AWFUL year. We’ve got to take whatever joy we can. As I’ve looked longer at the official prompts, I found ideas I’m really excited for. 

Once I started to really dedicate myself to it, it became a massive event. I hype myself up as I prepare for the busy month. Buy in supplies, clean the house and workspace, cook and freeze meals in bulk to save time, printing off a sheet that allows me to jot down ideas as I plan ahead.  Then once it’s done, after so much work, it makes the reward all the sweeter: Ordering a takeaway, celebrating a great halloween night and still rocking those vibes throughout November. Feeling proud of myself for doing it and seeing myself improve my technique, discipline and earning a few lie-ins to make up for the sleep I lost working. I’m like a kid waiting for Christmas. That said, don’t think that there’s something wrong with you when you understandably can’t dedicate that amount time for a simple art challenge. If anything that’s plenty of reason to why you’re smarter than me. You have a life and don’t push yourself too much.

Now, I need to crack on with the preparations. If you want to boycott Jake Parker, just not buying any of his products should be enough. Doing the inktober challenge doesn't bring attention to him, as I doubt most people even know him as the creator, nor does it even line his pockets. I just hate how cancel culture can do such serious damage like this and then try and put pressure on others to act accordingly without even doing any research themselves. 

As long as you’re not harassing anybody. Just do what YOU want to do. That’s fine. 

#Inktober #Inktober 2020 #My two penneth #Jake Parker #alphonso dunn

[neighborhoodmoonchild]

Every Part.

Prompt(s):

84. “Yeah, well, I shut everybody out. Don’t take it personally, it’s just easier that way.”

Pairing(s): BestFriend!Namjoon x Reader

Genre(s): Angst, Fluff (maybe just a little)

Summary: Joon hasn’t seen his best friend Y/N in a while, even skipping their daily morning coffee dates. Deciding to check on her, he finds there may be more than a supposed ‘cold’ keeping them apart. How do you love someone that’s too afraid to be loved?

Warning(s): some allusion to toxic relationships (romantic and platonic), fear of being vulnerable, depression, ptsd

Word Count: 3k

It wasn’t like you to skip out on daily morning coffee. In fact, you had been quite vocal about it being the only thing to get you through the day; the dismal clouds parting above your head as the caffeine descends your throat and warms your veins in a way that can only be described as pure euphoria. Then, there was also Namjoon’s more than satisfactory company, to which he would counter is better than any warm drink could ever be and you didn’t have the heart to convince him otherwise.

These were two things, two whole things, that gave you reason to get up in the morning despite the ache in your soul and the dull stab in your heart. So why were you making yourself more miserable by denying yourself even that smallest bit of sanctuary?

It’s an easy question to ask and a frustratingly difficult one to answer. In retrospect, shouldn’t you be elated to have a wonderful escape, though minute as it was, from the never ending war of thoughts in your mind? Namjoon is your best friend, admittedly only friend, and he’d never wronged you in any way, shape, or form. In fact, he always understands your silent breakdowns and internal battles, never once questioning or judging. And yet, here you are, not only punishing yourself, but punishing him as well.

A light buzz interrupted your thoughts, pressing pause on the inner monologue to turn over in your disheveled bed. Pushing the covers away from your face, you grab the device discarded on the bedside table. Thinking back, you should’ve just turned the thing off if you didn’t want to talk to him, but even after ignoring him for the last six calls and messages, you couldn’t find it in yourself to completely cut him off.

Even in the darkest recesses of your mind, tainted by evil thoughts, a piece of you reached forward, searching for the tiny light of Namjoon despite the protests from the negative space. He is reminiscent the sun, whether you hate or love it each day, it’s always there, just like him.

Joonie💜:

-I know you don’t feel up to anything today, but please take care of yourself. I’m a call or text away if you need anything❤️

In spite of yourself, you crack the slightest smile at the message. Being the first one you’d opened in the last 3 hours, you were both relieved and regretful. You know Joon would never impose or push you to share the thoughts and feelings that plague your soul. You’d simply waved his concern off with a small fib of a cold keeping you from your daily routine.

A part of you knows his earlier messages may convey his suspicions of the sudden ailment, but seeing this last one, he’s either finally accepted it or just doesn’t want to pry. It’s the knowledge of the false truth, as simple as it may seem, that sends a swirl of upset through your gut.

You and Joon are as close as close can be and one thing you promised each other was to always be honest. Truth is incredibly important to Joon, important to you as well, and yet, the urge to indulge in this cardinal sin of your friendship won over.

It felt like an awful pattern, one you have been desperate to be free from. No matter how hard you try move on from the past, the negative thoughts, the toxicity of it all, it seems like it always follows, attracted as if centered in your own gravitational pull.

It was the smallest thing that set it off, a grain of sand in a vast ocean that sent tidal waves the size of skyscrapers crashing into your resolve. A simple brush of a hand pulling forth images of past events once thought forgotten. A black and white silent film of horrors replaying over and over again no matter how many times you tried to turn it off.

A glimpse of your father leaving you and your mother in tears, a flash of your first real boyfriend breaking your heart, a shot of your once best friend using those darkest secrets against you. Every person you’d ever been close to in life had found a way to inflict pain. The constant sting of the knife as you let your walls down only made them rebuild higher each time.

It was pure accident you’d managed to let Namjoon in in the first place, and he rooted so well behind those walls you’d thought it would all be different this time. No one had ever stayed this long, been real and honest this long, made you truly happy this long.

And no matter how many times you told the monster in your head that ‘he’s different,’ ‘he’d never do that to you,’ ‘he really cares,’ it reminded you just how many times those same things had been uttered of others. A father would never do that, yet he did. The seemingly love of your life was different from him, and yet he wasn’t. Your best friend truly cares, but she really didn’t. You’ve always been proven wrong; painfully and wholly wrong.

Instead of waiting around for Namjoon to prove himself just like them, deciding to cut your losses before the blow could build felt like the better alternative. To see him turn into the mold of everyone who hurt you before, you decided, would be worse than pushing away and cutting all ties. Instead of waiting for the impending heartbreak to crash into you, you’d drive into it head on and get it over with.

The worst part is the lie. Not the little white lie of a cold, but the lie that he believes you’ll come back to him. That this ‘cold’ will run it’s course and you’ll both be back to the way it was. You’d meet at the coffee shop on Main and he’d walk you home and spend the rest of the day chatting and laughing like normal; everything would be okay. He was none the wiser that those days were over; that you’d be gone from his life without any explanation.

It hurt. More than anything you’d ever felt before.

The last rays of sunshine filtered through the blinds hanging dully in the windows for mere seconds before disappearing behind the dark cast of the night sky.

You still hadn’t left the bed.

Just as you were about to close your eyes and give in to the sweet release of sleep, a knock reverberated throughout the tiny apartment. Your phone had long since died and you felt no urge to revive it, the forewarning of a late night visit unbeknownst to you. Eyes focused on the ceiling, you waited for the silence to span enough time to signal their leave, but the knocks only repeated, almost urgent this time.

The lack of food, water, and movement from the day spent wallowing in bed hazed your mind, and after what felt like the hundredth knock, you rose stiffly from the covers. Joints hissing and cracking as you engaged in the first bit of physical activity in the past 24 hours, you almost tipped over as the blood quickly rushed to your head, making it spin.

Not being able to form any fluent or cohesive thoughts, you wandered aimlessly through the dark apartment until reaching the door handle. You didn’t even bother peeking through the peephole, simply pulling the door until it jerked back from the still-latched chain and squinted out into the bright hallway.

Your eyes immediately adjusted to stare into the dark pair of eyes of the person you’d vowed to quit cold turkey. As he took you in, his face paled, features dropping as if he was staring into the face of death.

“I know you want to be alone right now, but please, don’t shut me out.”

His voice was hoarse, choked with emotions your fogged brain couldn’t comprehend. Refusing to lift the latch and allow him entrance, you stood still, not sure how to react, as your brain slowly processed what was happening.

Namjoon didn’t make any move to force himself inside, to push you to let him in. Instead, he kept your gaze focused on him as he assessed you. Wrinkled sweats and a hoodie that looked like they’d been slept in for multiple days wrapped messily around your small frame. Your hair a tangled, matted nest told him you hadn’t had a proper shower in a while. The skin around your eyes dark purple and sunken in, flesh a pale, sickly hue that scared him.

Namjoon was no fool, he knew what a cold looked like on you, and this was not right. In his gut, he knew since that day, that something had snapped within you.

It started out innocent enough, as he walked you home from the bookstore you’d frequented together. He had carefully brushed his hand against yours, heart aching to slip your fingers into his and hold on tight. Joon hadn’t truly realized his feelings had crossed from platonic to romantic until it hit like a freight train an hour prior.

Standing in the window of the store reaching skywards for a book that caught your eye, he’d graciously grabbed the book for you with a laugh, admiring your effort even though it was much too high. When he chanced a look down at you as he handed off the object of your struggle, he caught that gleam in your eye as you smirked at him. The light of the setting sun formed a soft orange halo that enveloped every curve and dip of your body in a radiant glow. 

He was entranced, watching your fingers flip through the pages cautiously, face warmed by the sun, cheeks tinged an adorable light pink. You looked like an angel sent directly from the heavens above and it stole his breath away.

Namjoon’s friendship with you is his most prized possession. In that moment his heart yearned for more, but his mind told him that if he pushed too hard, he’d lose you. In the simplest of hand brushes, he thought he’d be able to convey to you in a subtle, careful way what he was feeling in that moment, hoping and praying deep down you felt the same.

It all shattered when he saw that gleam in your eyes dim, flushed cheeks devoid of their once healthy glow, as if you’d been touched by a ghost. His heart broke into a million little pieces, sensing deep down he had likely dismantled everything you’d ever built together with the most innocent of gestures.

A needle brought down the entire haystack.

At first, your excuse of illness didn’t perturb him. It wasn’t until day three that he knew his instincts were right; that something more serious was going on. When you ghosted him all day, he thought, for a brief moment, you might be gone. It sent him into a frenzy that led to racing up the steps of your building panicked, pounding harshly on your door until he could confirm with his own eyes you were here. That you were okay.

Only, that wasn’t what was confirmed to him at all once he saw you. Your body may physically be here, but it looked like your soul, your whole being, had dissipated and left nothing but a walking husk in its wake. If anything, seeing you right now only made him all the more terrified.

Namjoon may be your closest friend, but that did not make him privy to your darkest thoughts. One didn’t, however, need to be explicitly told of the sorrows you’d endured, but need only to experience how you interacted with the world around you.

He saw it in the little things, like how you’d shut down after seeing a happy family in public.

Or how the mentions of finding a boyfriend from his friends when he’d managed to get you to hang out would cause you to excuse yourself and avoid contact afterwards.

Most importantly, it was in the way that no matter how close the two of you seemed to get, he was never allowed into the deepest parts of your mind, to let him share the burden or see the truth that lay inside of you.

He had all the warning signs, yet his heart was selfish and greedy, wanting a piece of you he knew you kept locked away, and it was that longing for more that took it all away.

Namjoon would take it back if he could.

“Yeah, well, I shut everybody out. Don’t take it personally, it’s just easier that way.” 

The words slipped out before you had the mind to just shut the door and pretend it never happened. Your throat was dry, coarse, and it translated into the rough tone of your voice. You didn’t even recognize it as your own as it rang through the still air.

Eyes glued to the dirty carpeting of the landing, you couldn’t find the strength to look him in the eyes again. The longer you stood there, mere inches of wood separating you, the harder it got to hold your resolve. It was easy to keep away when he wasn’t there to remind you of all of the reasons to stay and fight.

The silence was deafening, neither party knowing the right thing to say, if there even was anything ‘right’ to say in the first place. If you couldn’t be honest with yourself, how could you ever expect to be honest with Namjoon?

Running away, leaving, abandoning things. That was the only course of action you’d ever bore witness to when it came to relationships. If it was so easy for your father, your boyfriend, your best friend, to leave you, why was it so difficult for you to leave Namjoon?

The salty taste in your mouth gave way to the tears that flowed freely down your face, even though you hadn’t given them consent to do so. You didn’t want him to see you like this, so broken at your own undoing. 

As much as a part of you wanted to blame Joon, to say that this was his fault, you knew it wasn’t. As much as you wanted to blame the past, the monstrous characters that shaped your negative outlook on the world, you didn’t.

It must have been, and always will be, your fault.

If everyone in your life leaves, the only constant factor, is you. There must be something wrong with you that forces people out, makes it easier for them to walk away. 

Like the second a bomb goes off, the realization that all the pain you’d endured: the wars waged in your mind, the destruction of yourself and the life you tried to salvage, could all be self-inflicted tore apart every fiber of your being with the initial blast.

For so long you’d chalked the misfortune up to bad luck; ill-fate. You were a victim of circumstance. Yet now all you could see was yourself at the root of every disaster. 

Suddenly drowning a the sea of self-deprecating thoughts, the weight of your body felt like a ton of bricks with which you no longer had the strength to support. 

Falling to your knees, you didn’t realize you had, at some point, subconsciously unlatched the door, until warm, strong arms caught you in your dissent. 

They held you as you cried; a loud, ugly cry, that had your inner-self cringing. It couldn’t be helped, though, and you no longer cared as you let the sobs wrack every part of you. The only thing anchoring you being the man you tried so desperately to push away.

His soft ‘shs’ combined with the soft glide of his hand in your hair calmed you despite the circumstances. You were a complete and utter mess.

And yet, Namjoon was still here.

After the stress you’d put him through, the lies, the ghosting, the cold shoulder, he remained constant, steady throughout the storm. He didn’t walk away when things got difficult, he didn’t blame you, he didn’t hurt you.

He is here, holding you, telling you it’s going to be okay.

The small part of you, the dark piece tainted by the negativity, had quietly retreated within you. The tiny hand reaching out for Namjoon’s light had prevailed. That film inside your brain burned away like acid as a new one began production. One in bright, saturated color; full of all the wonderful things you’ve experienced life with Namjoon.

Coffee dates, movie nights, grocery runs at 3 a.m.

Bad jokes, boisterous laughter, warm blankets.

Tight hugs, pinky promises, your best friend.

“I’m right here. I’ll always be right here,” he whispers through tears. He’s holding you tightly, despite the part of his mind screaming at him that this is what got him into trouble in the first place. His deep, innate need to protect you, to hold you, won over any worries he had of pushing you further away. When he felt your arms wrap tightly around him, face nuzzling into his chest, he knew he’d made the right choice.

In the end, it wasn’t space that would heal your heart, but closeness. You’d been so scared of him leaving, you tried to force him away, when he wanted nothing more than to keep you close. 

Finally, you realized that Namjoon was the only person who has ever stayed. He’d had plenty of time to walk away, been given a multitude of opportunities to excuse himself from your life, yet he never did. 

He rode out everything you’d thrown at him. 

As you both sat there, tear-streaked messes holding each other as if your lives depended on it, you knew that this storm had passed. Despite any damage it had caused, with Namjoon by your side, it wasn’t anything that couldn’t be repaired.

Letting a person in when you’ve been broken so many times is not easy and it never will be. A part of you will always be wary that one day something will change, that you might eventually wake up and be on your own again. It is a part of dealing with the trauma you’ve faced.

While Namjoon can never ‘fix’ the ‘broken’ parts of you, he will be there to show you new, beautiful parts of yourself that have long gone overlooked. To be the shoulder you can cry on, the ear you can confide to, the heart you can someday love without reserve.

It’s never been about putting the pieces back together, tearing the walls down, or proving the past wrong.

Namjoon’s only wish is to be there for you in any way you let him, to be himself, and live life with the person he cares about the most. 

So, he’ll be there through every pitfall, every tear, every laugh, every smile, because to Namjoon, every part of you is worth sticking around for. Always. 

“Thanks for not leaving.”

#bts #bts x reader #bts angst #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts drabble #bts au #bts kim namjoon #kim namjoon #namjoon x reader #drabble #kpop au #kpop drabble #scenario #non idol au #bestfriend!namjoon #imagine #one shot #bts oneshot #kim namjoon one shot #namjoon one shot #writing prompt #drabble prompts #namjoon imagines #namjoon drabble #bts rm #rm x reader #rm one shot #rm imagine #rm drabble

[19mrs-barnes17]

A Real Puzzle

Summary: You’re a former S.H.I.E.L.D. agent on a walk home, your night is rudely interrupted

Part: 1/1

Pairing: Matt Murdock x reader

Warnings: violence? none?

Word count: 1,592

A/N: Hello! I’m back in the groove of writing, so please send in requests!

~

The wind rippled through your hair and nipped at any exposed skin, sending a chill down your spine as you walked the streets. An edge to the air had you pulling your shoulder bag close to your frame and your eyes darting about the empty area. Dimly lit lights marked the pathway, stars hardly visible within the depths of the sky. The only comfort provided was a young woman jogging with her german shepherd ahead, a witness at the very least. But soon enough that comfort faded into the shadows. A clang from behind had you instinctively turning your head, your feet quickening their pace as you took in the dark empty. A shudder tickled your spine but you pressed onward. A heavy thud sounded to your left and you began to quicken your pace once again, too tired to deal with any bullshit tonight.

It was so quick you barely caught yourself in the fall, hands grappling for a hold but coming up with nothing but gravel. Flipping yourself on your back you stretched toward your wrapped ankles, fingers struggling to remove the blade from within your boot. Once it was cut you were quick to your feet, searching for your attacker in the velvet of the night. A dark, hooded figure emerged from the trees and was reeling back their chain to whip once again. You bolted between the trees, zig zagging as you ran across the muddy pathway. The ground was trying to swallow your shoes, in fact it almost did several times. 

“You’ve. Gotta. Be. Fucking. Kidding. Me.” It was simply your sort of luck to be attacked by some psycho with a chain whip, in the park, alone, at nine at night. Your endurance was holding but you had been out of work for months, your shoulder barely finished in its healing, and soon enough you knew it would run out. Shelter. You were in desperate need of a sanctuary and fast. An idea pinged inside your mind and you began to test your luck in the open, sprinting down alleyways and cutting corners. Sparks fly when the chain strikes the pavement in front of you, your feet halting momentarily but enough for the culprit to strike you across your right calf. A cry slipped from your lips as you turned to face your opponent, blade in hand.

They maintained a distance, which meant they were smart in keeping themselves in their element but could suggest they were weak in hand to hand. Maybe you were insane but you thought the risk was your only option, so you sprinted at them. Their shape suggested male, but underneath the cloak it was a tad difficult to confirm. Either way they were no novice in a fight, even in hand to hand they were quite formidable. However, you were more so. He was strong and relentless but you were quick and patient. You played your hand, one trick at a time, just as you were trained to. He was a talent, but he was no Natasha Romanoff. She made him seem less terrifying, for he was too reliant on his brutish strength whereas she believed in tactics. 

“Need a hand?” You were nearly thrown by the new voice, gruff but gentle, emanating from around the corner. After dealing a stun-like blow to the strangers head, your eyes glanced at the newcomer with intrigue. Shaking your head, you smirked softly at the man who had ‘come to your rescue’. He was exactly who you were hoping to find, but your pride was a bit wounded by his inquiry. 

“Not yet, just stand there and look pretty. Unless you’d like to speed this up by being his punching bag.” You sent a wink, ducking as the aggressor swung a left hook. A chuckle from your left and suddenly it was two on one, you allowed your partner to take the blunt of the blows while you strategize strikes. Two separate and simultaneous kicks to the chest and the assailant disappears into the alley. You half expect him to reappear with an attempted sneak attack, and yet the continued silence negates that theory. You venture cautiously, scanning the vacant alleyway before trailing up the walls and peering up at the rooftops. 

“You hear him?” Your eyes didn’t flicker down to the Devil of Hell’s kitchen, remaining above instead. He mutters a ‘no’ as he approaches, stalling for a moment before smirking slyly.

“What gave me away?” If you were being honest, it was the way he fought and how smooth his motions were. But, you weren’t being honest.

“Your voice for starters. And I’d recognize that sly smirk anywhere, Red.” He seemed off put by the sudden nickname but only for a moment before leading you up the fire escape to his apartment. “You were just the blind crusader I was hoping to ‘bump’ into.”

“Aw shucks.” He removed his mask, walking to his kitchen and holding up a bottle of whiskey. You shook your head and he nodded in recollection. “Right, how’s the shoulder.”

“Super Doc!” He shook his head slightly, a soft smile stretching across his lips as he lifted your legs and sat underneath them. “Almost cleared, going through phys.”

There was a blanket of silence over the room, both of you likely thinking through the night’s event with great scrutiny. Who? Motive? Solo or Hired? Dozens of questions and theories compiled within your mind like an ever growing leaf pile in the fall. Something was eating at you, and you couldn’t fight it off. Swinging your feet off Matt’s lap you made your way to the windows, searching the skyline and eyeing the streets.

“He’s not here, I don’t hear him.” You turn to look at Matt, who now stood beside you, your eyes studying his features in the neon lighting. “How did you know I could hear like that?”

“I’ve seen the way you tilt your head when listening to people, and how you react to their words. At first I thought, ‘huh, he must hear their tone and judge from that’, but then I got to thinking about what would be a bigger tell.” You smirked softly and shrugged, knowing he could hear it well enough to decipher. “A heartbeat. Not a totally crazy theory considering the inhumans I’ve come across. Plus, it would account for your ability to be a human lie detector.” 

“I should’ve known you of all people would be able to put the puzzle together.” The smile he had plastered on his face had your chest tightening. 

“I’m fucking amazing at puzzles.” You rested your cheek on Matt’s shoulder and felt the vibrations of his laugh. “You laugh, but I’m serious. I’ve got mad puzzle skills.”

“That so?” You smirk, walking over to his kitchen and grabbing water from his fridge.

“Yes it is, mister I wear devil's horns in public and it's not a kink.” You pause and your smirk grows bigger. “Or is it?”

He throws a pillow at you but you catch it with ease and launch it back at his head. This was something you had missed over the past few months, you had been so preoccupied with your injury and regaining your footing that you had sort of ghosted your best friend. You sat back on the couch and wrapped your arms around Matt when he joined you.

“I’ve missed your kinky ass.” Matt smacked your head with a pillow but chuckled softly.

“I’ve missed you too, you gremlin.” You gasped, taking the pillow from his hand and holding it above his head. “You wouldn’t hit a mostly blind man, would you?”

“Oh absolutely, if that blind man is your dumbass.” 

***

Your neck cracked as you tilted your head from side to side, scanning the skyline once again out of habit. Mostly. You still couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. But perhaps that was just Matt sneaking up on you. 

“Alright ninja, calm it with the sneaking.” You smacked his chest, smiling up at his bedhead. “I do not need to have a heart attack today.”

“You’re the former S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. Shouldn’t you be prepared for something like that?” He sighed softly as he ran a hand through his messy hair. “Still not here you creature of habit.”

“Gee, you sweet talker. Take me now.” There was a slight blush on his cheeks and you became increasingly more curious.

“We need to talk about what happened last night. I’m assuming you don’t know our friend in black.” His change in topic would not detour your subconscious as it rattled off suggestions of how to proceed with your newfound knowledge. 

“I’m afraid we skipped the small talk and I will definitely be swiping left.” Your stomach growled like an animal and the conversation halted while Matt offered to take you to breakfast. “Gasp. So soon?”

“I could just shove you out on the fire escape.” He smirked as you smacked him once again, but dropping it the moment you inched close.

“You love me too much Murdock.” His cheeks flushed and he cleared his throat before walking to his bedroom to change. “Oh, and Matt?”

“Yeah?” He called from his room, a shirt slipping over his scar littered torso. 

“You’re not the only one who can tell if a person’s heart rate spikes. I just winked in case you were wondering.” You giggled at the crimson overtaking the pale complexion of his cheeks. “It seems we have two conversations to have, Matty.”

~

Tags: @qtmeryr​ @broken-hearted-barnes​

Send asks to join tags!

#Matt Murdock #matt #matt x reader #matt murdock x reader #Daredevil #marvel #SEND ME SHIT #send me asks

[minjoonalist]

Better Than Before. | KSJ 18+

pairing: Ex!Seokjin x Reader

genre: smut, BDE!Jin, a pinch of Angst., what is Humor?

words: 3.1K

warnings: none :)

summary: why is that everytime you attmept to be a social butterfly your ex-kim seokjin appears and you’re suddenly a raging alcoholic. AKA- seokjin is on a persistent mission to get you alone again.

song inspiration: “Always” by Arin Ray

*** ***

You’ve never been the type of person to attend big celebration or even stay afterwards for further socializing. But you either had to choose between another Saturday spent watching re-runs of old sitcoms or actually going out to do something with your life and seeing as you were a full fledged nurse with barely enough time to take a piss… yeah it was probably time to interact with others.

The soft spot for your closest coworker had took it place once she asked for your assistance as a bridesmaid. An unfortunate event of one her friends getting extremely sick due to a spreading Flu had only ended with the poor thing being short just one person. Little did you know the sweet natured girl had actually considered you to be another close pal of her own and couldn't think of any other to put above asking you next. Originally you had planned to miss the event all in itself , even when you were just a guest. Practicing in your mirror to give the sweet girl a stern ‘hell no’, but it's Fairly obvious to see by now that, that didn't go as planned.

The air felt hot, you were sure your dress had a huge sweat stain on the back and you couldn't control the throbbing need that was slowly making you delirious by the second.

“You may now kiss the bride” the words spoken by the elderly priest that stood only a feet away from you. You looked to him. a firm smile placed on his slightly chapped lips that had everyone cheering, including the beautiful couple who were currently leaning into each other to seal their vows of commitment. It was perfect to say nonetheless, all white spreading throughout the pure rustic styled garden and the sun was shining throughout the clear blue skies showcasing the Event in all it’s beauty . You wanted to bask in it and soak up the rare moment you were apart of , but there was no use .

No, Not when there's a pair of dark occupied eyes staring your body down throughout the entire celebration.

“ I dont know whats more messed up. You- attending the same wedding as me or the fact that the next time I ever see you it's when you're in the same wedding as me” the undeniably gorgeous man that you’ve known as your Ex- Kim Seokjin- or well Jin pressed you into his side tighter just as you were following the groom and bride down flower filled path.

Wild light brown hair, pouty plump lips, and mischievous black eyes- If there was anything that made you regret going along with this decision, it was certainly him.

“Seokjin. Let. me. Go.” the venomous words slid through your teeth just as you waved towards the ederly woman in one of the rows and whom you could only assume was the groom’s grandmother.

“sheesh , still bitter I see” He glances down at you, a firm smirk still in its place when he does not-so-exactly as you wished. His long arm that was pressing you rather possessively into his waist loosened its hold and only came to grab your soft empty hand. It gave everyone the simple illusion that you two were a perfect couple when really you were anything but.

It was a couple of years ago in a situation similar to this one, you’d ended up attending a special occasion for an old colleague. It was a birthday party that your classmates happened to be throwing for seokjin and you’d reluctantly allowed your roommates to drag you there. There wasn't really much else to it since you could barely remember, you caved into downing 5 shots as you tried to drown out your boredom and completely blacked out. The only thing you could recall after that mysterious night , was waking up naked and sore next to the birthday boy himself. You’ve both only dated for a couple of months, when rumors of the popular boy’s conquests arose and you were in no mood to deal with them.

In other words- you dumped him.

“Shot of whiskey and make it dark please” you smiled innocently towards the cute dimpled bartender who busied himself cleaning cups. He nods back at you, his blonde hair falling forward as he momentarily slid his eyes over you and you vice versa. He then rolls up his crisp white button up to lean towards you, your eyes running quickly over his name tag that read ‘namjoon’ on it. “Sure thing miss” he sends you a wink , just before turning to prepare the requested drink.

“I wonder. are you going to keep batting your lashes at Virgin- juice boy over here or are you going to keep downing shots until I convince you to let me fuck you somewhere private? Preferably the latter but without the convincing part.” Seokjin’s velvety voice mumbles shamelessly into your ear making you shudder.

“As if that’ll ever happen” you scoff , just as the bartender namjoon hands you the small glass making sure to flash you his dimpled smile one last time. You raise the liquid towards your mouth, downing it in one go. Already the calming sensation spreading up from your legs and throughout your body, making the annoying Ass next you a bit more bearable . Only when you finally notice the long and intimidating gaze he has set on you. You decide to go in for more “ Another please.”

Seokjin’s nearly evil smirk never falters “ If I do recall and I truly do. Pretty little y/n downed 5 of my birthday shots and let me lay between her legs” he says way too loud for your liking. Your cheeks blushed and not from the fact that he just aired your sexual history in front of namjoon (who was handing you your next shot), but that the man had just called you pretty. Even more so that the simple compliment actually had you pressing your thighs together.

“I think we both can agree that years ago pretty little y/n made a huge mistake”

“You’re right about that” he chuckles with a nod. In return you roll your eyes, reaching for the next shot in front of you and downing that one as well. You make eye contact with namjoon once again, his soft eyes connecting with the empty glass in your possession “just one more please” you sheepishly smile and he bites his lip, silently laughing at your cuteness.

Once again a shot glass is slid your way. It was then that you noticed seokjin had moved significantly closer towards, the smell of his intoxicating cologne running up your nostrils and a large flat palm resting on the small of your back. When the hell did he put it there?

“ g-good so we agree. Maybe now you’ll finally leave me the hell alone” you attempt to ease away from him. The familiarity of the situation , bringing lost memories of how you once tried to resist the highly convincing man before.

“I never said that I agreed with what you said y/n…” he says , voice becoming husky and soft. You hated to admit it, but it was pulling you in just like the sensual gaze he never failed to keep on you. You didnt know whether to blame it on the alcohol or that you just havnt had sex about 2 seasons of big bang theory ago.

“Bu-but you just did-”

You were reaching for what was going to be your last shot , when seokjin comes in and snatches it from your grasp. You pout in return , not wanting to have to ask the dimpled boy for another. “I said you were right, only because you did make a mistake. You broke up with me when all I ever did was make you happy. Even worse, you did it right before we graduated and then you blocked me ” the slight sadness in his voice would have had you wanting to console the man had it not been for the fact that he was the one who messed up.

“Seokjin, you cheated on me. Did you really think I was going to stay with you after finding that out?” you sputtered out.

He was midway through downing your shot, when your words had caused him to gasp and choke on the harsh drink. Immediately his cool is lost, the poor man doubling over to hack his lungs out before he oddly finishes it anyway. “I did not cheat on you. Where the hell did you get that stupid Idea?” he frowns rather disappointedly at you.

“Oh please you're just saying that so I’ll let you slip your excited little hands up my dress” you shake your head but a small part of you just can't get over the sincerity that was in his stare. A silent second passes by and seokjin’s trance is broken before he asks you “how did you find out?”.

Your heart skips a beat. His soft voice riddled with no such guilt but he wanted to know how you discovered his unfaithfulness. In his eyes , he now seemed a bit curious more than concerned and it made an unsettling feeling appear in your stomach “I was told.” you swallowed “by some sorority girl - actually she was at your party” you then confessed.

“Blonde hair? Pouty lips.. And a permanent bitch face right?” he lists easily and the description matches the exact culprit who informed you of all his hidden lies. You guessed he must’ve gone off the way your eyes had wavered with uncertainty because seokjin had then let out an incredulous huff of disbelief. He hangs his head , his shoulders shaking from the small laugh that escapes his mouth “y/n. That was my ex” he says finally.

You gasped.

“You let my ex-girlfriend get into your head. If there's one thing I remember about her, its that she’s very manipulative, but also bitter and anyone with common sense knows thats not a good combination” he looks to you, only to see the disheartened look on your face. Your eyes full of guilty sadness now that you easily pieced two and two together.

“I-I dont know what to say-....I’m sorry seokjin” you managed out.

Sure you felt bad but your relationship was years ago. In-fact you’ve barely thought about him since honestly. He smiles tenderly towards you, the warmth from his brown eyes seeping slowly through your guarded shield but only now , you almost don't mind to let it down a bit.

“ Its fine, to be honest I should've known she would try something like that. You were probably too innocent for me anyways- I could’ve ruined you” he jokes though you don't laugh, your mind staying stuck on the innocent part.

“Remember I'm the girl who stole your shots and took you back to her dorm” you say catching both him and yourself completely off guard. Your eyes then widen from the risky remark, heart hammering in your chest when seokjin quirks a teasing brow at you.

You then turn back towards the bar, the dimpled blonde smiling your way when you tap the empty space in front of you “ a double would be great” you say but then for the first time seokjin acknowledges him as well. “Trust me. No it wouldn't.” he smiles a bit too sweet at the poor boy and you notice namjoon’s own smile falter from the slight animosity. Seokjin then grabs at your hand, his thumb slightly stroking the inside of you palm as the other finds its place again on your back. The intimate actions bringing your attention fully back to him when he speaks again.

“Now that the convincing part is done. Lets go somewhere a bit more private”

Honestly if you were shocked by the fact that you’ve once again allowed seokjin slip under your skin...well…that would be perfectly okay. It didn't take a second thought for you to let seokjin lead you to what looked like tiny shed, the both of you slipping in easily unnoticed as everyone else focused on the beautiful couple dancing away into their new marriage.

You're bent over slightly, Seokjin’s hands coming towards your hips to pick them up and raise your ass towards him. Immediately he groans in his spot. the delicious sight of your pussy lips glistening with your arousal reminds him just why he was so fucking whipped for you back then. You were gorgeous...everywhere and his mouth was watering just to get a taste of you again.

A finger swipes gently at your exposed slit, sending a cold shiver down your back from the subtle friction.

“You were always so sensitive for me weren't you baby?” He whispers, but by the way he confidently pushes the Long calloused finger into your unsuspecting hole, his own question is already answered.

“-J-jin…” you grunt out the broken moan in appreciation. His finger is pulling away and pushing right back in , causing you squirm and whimper from the much needed pleasure. “I can't wait to fill you up” a tiny squelch is heard as another finger is added to his torturing movements. His body coming forward onto your bare back and you could honestly melt just from the way it arched perfectly into him.

The tight knot in your stomach begins to loosen as you try your hardest hide your loud whimpers from any outsiders. Your legs trembling and you so badly want him to just fuck you already.

“P-please…” was all you could manage.

Seokjin’s fingers that were once pumping into you at a moderate pace turns to a more vicious route and you can't help but to squeal when the two lengthy digits forces your quivering pussy into its first orgasm in months. It leaves you breathless, weak and you were just about ready to collapse onto the neat shed’s floor.

“ Tsk, You haven't gone soft on me have you?” Seokjin chuckles down at you, a wicked glint prominent in his midnight eyes and when you shake your head in return. you could only shiver as the smile drops and the tiny space goes cold with his next words

“I’m not done with you yet Pretty girl…”

Next thing you knew you were being flipped onto your back and seokjin’s. strong hands had reached greedily for your underwear only to slide them completely off.

He then meets you on the ground, his body leaning back just a bit to unbuckle his black slacks. A noticeable swallow from your end driving the man a bit more mad with lust and he would swear he could cum right then and there just from that cute innocent gaze you were giving just when he pulls himself free.

“O-h…” you could barely say, your mouth completely dry. Your watched anxiously, a bead of precum already oozing out through the thick red Mushroom head of what you could definitely remember was his above average cock. The hard veiny muscle not having any shame to rub said cum swiftly down your exposed slit.

“You’re so fucking pretty baby, did you know long I’ve held this for you?” He growls out, deep carnal lust stuck in his voice as he inches closer above you. You weren't given the chance to answer him because as soon as you could , his fingers had wrapped within your once neat bun to pull your head back even further.

You could only then let out what sounded like a breathy moan. Your lungs almost giving up on you when you feel the head of his cock prying it’s way into you. His mouth laying open mouth kisses onto your exposed neck ,making his way up to towards your chin and finally landing on your mouth.

As much as you wanted to resist his kiss, the way Seokjin’s tongue had begun to dip swirl onto yours had your toes curling just from the passion of it and your entire body melting in pure bliss.

Your legs are spread out a bit wider for him, his hands latching onto the back of your knees to do so. “So cute. So good for me” he whispers out his praises into your ear, his hips jerking forward to shove his member deep into you and you nearly scream from the intrusion. Instantly you feel full, your body humming with pleasure as seokjin finds his paced rhythm. His hips slamming down onto yours with such a force that it has your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“ so good! Yes just like that!” You exclaim out to him when the change of his angle only ends with your g-spot getting rammed into over and over.

“Look at pretty y/n. taking Daddy’s big cock like a good girl” he says, each sweet thrust matching his words. It was at this point where seokjin’s hand had ended up slipping from under one of your knees only to drop one of your legs. During the slight mishap seokjin was mid-thrust into you when you yelped and jerked your hips from the even more intense pleasure.

“Oh? Did that feel good baby? Maybe I should make you feel like that some more hmm?” He chuckles when you shake your head. Ignoring your response to switch you on your right side and sit himself on top of your right thigh, your left thigh being pushed against you as he proceeds with his wreckening.

What once was a difficult task had become impossible to withhold your loud moans. The new position allowing him to fuck further into your walls, burying himself to the hilt and maybe even deeper than he probably should be. It has your body jumping, your hands instantly bracing themselves on his highly active hips as tears started to leak from your eyes.

“So fucking cute. Pretty y/n don't ever run from me again - let daddy take care of you.” He pleads and praises you in your ear as he leans forward. “O-Ok-kay!” You unthinkingly gasped trying to catch your lost breath, his surged strokes turning your mind to mush and you could feel your orgasm climbing terrifyingly fast.

“Angh! Jin! Im go-ing to c-cum!”

You didn't have to tell him for him to know. Seokjin could feel his balls tightening with every brutal squeeze of your core- it was like you were trying to milk the man’s dick. He chuckled from the thought, his harsh grunts being masked by an unbelievably deep sexy laugh “thats right baby, milk me. Make me cum S-so I can fill that pretty pussy of yours.”

As if on cue your body gives out. Sweet burning pleasure pushing up throughout your entire body while you thrashed uncontrollably under Seokjin’s relentless thrusts.

“Mmmm!” You screamed, but your mouth is immediately muffled under one of his hands. The grip of it suddenly becoming unbearably tight once seokjin finds his own release in you.

You hold your breath, his body collapsing next to you once he slips out with a satisfied sigh.

“That was....even better than before”

#bangtanarmynet #ksmutclub #thekimlinenet #kim seokjin #bts #bts one shot #bts smut #bts jin #bts imagines #bts memes #bts ot7 #bangtan #bts au #bts scenerio #bts smut dirty #bts fic #bts fanfic #my fic

[shadowthrone-ammanas]

that’s it : prompt request, someone adopts mu, maybe cooking cat, good food for mu, mu’s hunting skills being used to help cc get ingredients and share with towns people, that’s my request because let mu have some happiness please

Thank you for the request!!!! Mama Cooking Cat is so good! Also this isn’t exactly Mu being happy, just events that lead to her eventually being happy because I really needed to write the moment Cooking Cat decided to take Mu in.

Food

Ever since Mu’s Time Piece power trip had been put to a very abrupt halt, food had become even harder to get than before. Almost everyone, Mafia or not, recognized her and chased her away the moment they saw her. Rare was the day she could even get close to the food stalls anymore. Stealing something from them was nigh on impossible because with a personal grudge now, the owners of the stalls no longer gave up as easily.

Compounding on that the crows didn’t even try to fight her anymore, they just ran, making killing them for food nigh on impossible. Thankfully the rats were easy prey though but growing ever scarcer due to the Mafia’s eradication efforts as well as Mu’s hunting of them. Fishing was nearly impossible without a boat or at least the right equipment but even with a poll and bait it would’ve left her too out in the open, easily caught and killed. Which left garbage to be her main source of food now.

It sucked and was no fair! And people still chased her away if they caught her going through their garbage or someone else’s or even a public waste bin. Why couldn’t people just give her a pecking break already? She couldn’t even find time to sabotage the Mafia as much anymore because she was constantly on the run or looking through garbage praying to find something at least semi-edible. … She was getting desperate.

Which is what drove her to Cooking Cat’s Studio. Normally she wouldn’t dare break into such a place solely for food; it was way too easy to get cornered indoors and before the whole thing with the Time Pieces, the risk hadn’t been worth it because stealing and hunting had been much easier. Now though, just eating garbage and the occasional gaunt rat, she could feel herself growing weaker, putting her in more danger of getting caught and murdered. She refused to die to the Mafia, her hatred for them was the only thing that kept her going.

She was minimizing the risk though; according to word on the street Cooking Cat was supposedly out of town right now. It could be wrong but hopefully not.

The door to the studio was locked of course. But thankfully, it wasn’t the kind of lock that required a large key, meaning Mu could pick it.

Inside, it was even darker than it was outside. There were windows but they were dirty and not very big, not letting in much moonlight at all. There was nothing she could do about it though as she stepped in and pulled the door closed behind her.

She found the left wall and keeping her hand on it, walked along it until she found a door. She opened it and poked her head inside. It was pitch black. Which meant there weren’t any windows, or if there were, they were thoroughly covered and thus turning on a light wouldn’t be seen from outside.

Keeping one had on the door, she stepped in to grope at the wall for the light switch. Hopefully it was on this side, if not… Ah! There it was! She flipped it, flooding the room with light and blinding herself.

Unable to see, she stood frozen, listening for any indication for anyone else reacting to the light. All was silent though. And when at long last she could open her eyes she had to hold back the need to vocalize her excitement and triumph. She’d found the kitchen set! Now hopefully they kept all the food for the show stored here. They had to, right? There was no way they stocked and unstocked the cupboards and fridge every time they filmed, right?

Mu sprinted over to the nearest cupboard. Inside was bowls various shapes and sizes, some clearly meant for mixing, others for serving. With a growl, she slammed it shut. The next housed cups. She kicked it closed this time and skipped straight to the fridge, food that needed to be refrigerated was better anyway. And… it was stocked! Yes! Jackpot!

She grabbed the first thing that caught her eye; a bag of shredded cheese. How long had it been since she’d had cheese that wasn’t expired? … Didn’t matter. She tore it open and started stuffing her face with it.

***

Having just come back from visiting the Metro for a special string of episodes for the show, Cooking Cat’s internal clock was still set to Metro time. Meaning she was wide awake at 3am. There was nothing she could do about it though and staying in bed was about as appealing trying to make a meal out of roadkill so… she might as well head to the Kitchen Studio. She would probably regret it later and she wasn’t even set to film today but she was bored and needed to check and make sure the kitchen set was fully stocked before it was time to start filming anyway so why not do it now?

When she arrived, she went around to the back door; it was closer to the kitchen set. … It was unlocked. Which should not have been the case, it was literally part of someone’s job to make sure all the doors were locked when everyone left. Someone had picked it.

With a growl, she pulled out her rolling pin. If anyone thought they could get away with sneaking into her studio to steal something, they had something else coming.

Fur bristling, she pushed the door open, letting it bang against the wall and announce her presence. She stepped inside, rolling pin raised should anyone jump out and attack her. No one did though. Turning on the light revealed that no one was there either. But… the door leading to the kitchen set was ajar and the light was on in there too. She marched over and kicked that door open too.

No one was there but they had been. The fridge hung open and was noticeably less full now. Food packaging littered the floor around it. It was possible the culprit was gone by now, unlikely though. Most robbers would’ve covered up the evidence of their crime, leaving discovery of it until the last possible moment. Whoever it was had most likely heard the backdoor slam open and hid somewhere in the room because there were no other exits.

“I know you’re still here,” Cooking Cat said as she closed the fridge. “Come out and maybe I won’t whack you with my rolling pin.”

No response.

Well, that left her no choice, didn’t it? She’d find the intruder’s hiding spot and whoop them for breaking in and stealing from her. She’d start with the cupboards, an unlikely hiding spot due to how small they were but it was always a good idea to cover all of one’s bases.

The bowl cupboard was undisturbed so was the cup cupboard. The cupboard by the fridge, that usually held the mixing stand that now temporarily resided in her own kitchen was not empty as it should’ve been. It now housed a mustached girl. The same mustached girl who’d used the stolen Time Pieces to temporarily take over the world before Hat Kid had defeated her.

Cooking Cat opened her mouth to say something mean but… Mustache Girl – as Hat Kid had called her when Cooking Cat had later asked – was a child. A small child, cowering in a cupboard, fear etched on her face.

“Please don’t hurt me,” she begged, pressed as far back into the cupboard and away from Cooking Cat as was physically. “I’m sorry, I-I’ll just go and never come back, I promise. Just don’t hurt me please or… or turn me into the Mafia or… anything like that. Please.”

Cooking Cat let out a sigh, slipping her rolling pin back into chef’s cook. She almost asked what Mu was doing here but… it was obvious from the mess she’d made on the floor and of her front. She was here for the food and had clearly gone at it rather ravenously. She was skinny, her clothes ragged and baggier than they should be on her. She’d probably been starving.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Cooking Cat said in what she hoped was a soothing voice. She didn’t want to move back away from the cupboard though lest Mu run away.

“Y-you’re not?” Mu didn’t sound like she believed that.

“No, I’m not. I’d never hurt a child. Now uh… you can come out now.” She reached a paw in, offering to help Mu out. “Please don’t run though, I want to talk.”

Mu flinched at he offered contact so Cooking Cat withdrew her paw. She stepped back though, allowing Mu to exit. Thankfully she didn’t run even if she did cast a furtive glance towards the exit.

“What do you want?” she asked, glaring in an obvious attempt to appear unafraid.

“I… want to help. Where are you parents?”

Mu let out a single sarcastic laugh. “Where do you think?”

“Uh… I don’t know.”

“They’re dead, you idiot. The Mafia killed them.”

Cooking Cat tried not to grimace at her own stupidity. Of course Mu’s parents were dead, she wouldn’t be here if they weren’t. And of course, they’d been killed by the Mafia, more than half the island’s population had been. Which left Mu an orphan, probably living on the streets and starving so when an opportunity to raid a cooking show’s set had arisen, she’d taken it. So…

“Well… in that case, can you can stay with me for a while,” Cooking Cat said.

“What?”

“I mean, you clearly don’t have anywhere else to go. My apartment’s not the best but it does have a guest room. I’ll have to clean it up some but it should do.”

Mu gave her a look that was half disbelief and half desperate hope. “Are you… offering me a place to stay? Really?! Or… or is this a trick? You’re going to lure me to your house and then call the Mafia over and get your reward for turning me in, aren’t you?” Now she looked mad.

“Hon, do I look like the kind of person who’s friends with the Mafia? I’ve been trying to get them shut down too.”

“Really? How?”

“Exposing their wretched cooking habits to the world with my show. I’ve already caused two of their kitchens to go out of business. It’s not much but… it’s only thing I can do. So no, I’m not going to turn you into them. I’m offering to help you.”

“Why?” … The fact that she felt the need to ask, especially with so much disbelief in her tone, was heartbreaking. How long had it been since anyone had offered her kindness? How long had she been living on the street, hunted by the Mafia for causing trouble? No wonder she’d gone mad with power when she’d obtained it, she was mad at her circumstances and rightfully so. How had Cooking Cat and everyone else missed that?

“Because you’re a child and you’re hurting and probably slowly starving to death on the streets, am I right? I have food, a warm bed, and a safe place to stay if you want it. So… what do you say?” Cooking Cat wasn’t going to force her to do anything. All she could do was hope her offer of help would be accepted.

“You’re… being serious, really?” Mu asked, her tone suggesting she was possibly holding back tears now.

Cooking Cat nodded.

“I uh… okay, I’ll go. … But if it’s a trick I’m going to escape and… and… start sabotaging you too.”

“Of course sweetie. Let’s uh… go now. It’s late and I’m sure you need some sleep.” Cooking Cat was feeling like she might need a nap now too actually.

Mu grunted as she started following Cooking Cat out. She still didn’t look like she trusted her but that was okay and understandable. After a while she’d see that Cooking Cat meant her no harm and only wanted to help. She probably wasn’t fit to be in charge of a child, especially one so clearly traumatized but she didn’t have much choice. She’d just have to find a way to make it work.

For this drabble request. Even if this one isn’t actually a drabble.

#My Writing #ahit #A hat in time #mustache girl #cooking cat #mama cooking cat #angst #poor mu

[starcityhq]

WHAT: The Justice League and the Avengers officially combine to form The Avenging League of Justice - or The Avenging League for short. Batman and Captain America lead the first meeting to discuss strategies for combating NOVA. Egos clash and chaos ensues, but teams are set and there is finally a plan in motion.

WHO: Batman, Captain America, Wonder Woman, Superman, Iron Man, Falcon, Loki, Bucky, Black Widow, Hawkeye, Superboy, Supergirl, Flash, Spiderman, Human Torch, Invisible Woman, Booster Gold, Zatanna, Oracle, Batgirl, Stinger, Wiccan, Scarlet Witch, Nightwing, and Red Robin.

WHEN: Tuesday, March 20th, 2020.

BATMAN: The meeting took much longer to organize the Bruce would have liked. The latest events in Star City were unfortunate distractions, but after the riot it seemed everyone was finally prepared to commit to the union of their prospective teams. The Justice League reformed years ago, but the only consistent members were himself and Diana - until Clark’s return. Even though Bruce would never admit it, it was his arrival that put life back into the idea. It made it seem more than possible; now, it was necessary. He gave everyone time to be seated. Even though there were several meetings he had with Steve in the past in preparation for this, he was still unprepared for the amount of people that showed. All of them he knew, even if they knew little nothing more about him than his reputation and, more recently, his real name. “We are here because we have a common goal and a common enemy.” He skipped the pleasantries and the thank yous. He expressed his gratitude to everyone he asked here and saw little reason to do so a second time. There were more pressing things to discuss. “Alone we have been able to fight them on a smaller scale, but that is no longer enough. If we are going to eradicate NOVA’s influence from Star City and prevent further destruction, we need to unite. I assume you all understand that, or you would not be here. During this meeting we will share what we each know about NOVA, their organization, technology, as well as their connections to a higher government. All of us have pieces of the puzzle. If we’re going to beat them, we must know everything about them. They are not infallible.” He paused, frowning. “I do know that they are currently perfecting a device that will not only de-power mutants, but meta-humans as well. Kryptonians and other aliens will not be exempt from this.”

CAPTAIN AMERICA: Steve had put on the Cap suit for the first time since... well the last time he had put it on had been for himself. But this time, he had put it on for its true purpose. And it was as if he was home in a lot of ways. Maybe that was cheesy, as Bucky always accused him of being. But it was true. All that was missing was the weight of the shield at his back. He had left off his helmet--his identity hadn't been secret since 1941--and he wanted to be able to connect to the people around him, some of them friends, some of them former allies, and some of them people he had fought against but who had changed for the better. With the League assembled alongside the new Avengers, it was the kind of thing deep enough to give him real hope. "Batman is right," he said simply. "For a long time, we've been letting these guys go unchecked, and they've been hurting people. Not just you and me, but people who need us. The riots really brought that out hard, but Batman and I started discussing this long before that. As Avengers, we're no strangers to operating against the flow of what is expected in pursuit of the greater good. With all of us combined with the Justice League, we can see the loose threads to pull on to unravel this whole thing. To protect people. A man much smarter than me once said 'one has a moral responsibility to disobey unjust laws', and we're in a unique position to see that injustice firsthand and to work together to bring this city back to a place where people can feel safe again." He glanced around at everyone at the table. "As Batman said, we all have the tools, but separate we're just people. Together, we're more powerful than anything they can throw at us. It's not gonna be easy, but we've all faced hard things before."

SUPERMAN: It was years too late, what they were doing. They’d all bowed out and Clark had championed it, like a fool, so the injustice they were speaking of correcting felt a little more like picking up the pieces that should’ve never fallen in the first place. He’d dealt with that feeling for awhile, though, and there was no more room for the guilt when he (they) had finally decided to move again. So he gave Bruce and Steve his full attention, suppressing the swell of gratitude and relief he felt at seeing them at the helm of what they were doing. On their own, none of them had been able to right the wrongs that had happened, but he had not a single doubt that all the people around that table were capable of pulling together to do it. “There are a lot of people outside of this room depending on us to get this right. I know we can do it.” He glanced around at his Justice League compatriots and all the new faces of the Avengers he hadn’t officially met. “That’s why we’re here. NOVA has had a lot of chances to hit first, and I think it’s time we took some of them away.”

BLACK WIDOW: Natasha didn't speak. She didn't need to. Seated between James and Clint, it was like coming back from a long trip as she watched Steve give one of his keystone inspirational speeches. Her green eyes flitted around the room, marking the rapt expressions on most of the faces. Ever so subtly, she moved to slip her fingers into Clint's. They had plans to take him to James' therapist. They'd get his memories unlocked, but she was sure he was probably feeling lost, even if she had filled him in about NOVA and he had been there for the riots. He belonged here. He was an Avenger, but she wondered what was going through his head. Self-doubt, likely. He didn't remember this part of his life. Still, hearing Steve speak for the first time was a sobering experience for her. She wondered what it was like to get a second first time.

ZATANNA: Zatanna did her nails while everyone sat and listened. The brush moved on its own, though she occasionally had to twitch a finger to keep it going. She knew why she was here, obviously, but at the same time, she knew nothing about NOVA, and all she really wanted to do was set the bastards on fire. Maybe have ants eat them from the inside out. This was what happened when she was left alone and allowed to get creative. Flicking a wave at Bruce, she added a flourish of bats into her nail polish just to amuse herself. She showed them off. It wasn't her fault she could never be serious about this sort of thing. She dealt with eldritch horrors and world ending nightmares on a fairly regular basis. This was just bureaucracy. And the inspirational speech was lovely, but really, what did it accomplish? This is why she didn't work in groups, they spent too much time talking and not enough time doing. "So, do we have any concrete ideas? Or is this just a planning committee?" Her leg swung over the other, her foot tapping restlessly, she was the picture of impatience. "None of you fought this when it started. Everyone just accepted it and retired. I had to go halfway around the world and rehab my image for years to get people to think of me as just a stage magician so I could still keep the universe from getting cut open by the next greedy idiot who decided power was worth a lot of people dying. And now we're all here to pump some pompoms and talk about our feelings? Spare me." Normally she was better behaved. She'd been spending too much time with cranky wizards. "Look, I know I'm the asshole here, I know we have to fix things now regardless of what already happened. Proceed." She pulled a rabbit out of her top hat and fed it treats from her pocket.

WICCAN: Billy was a little starstruck, just as he’d been the first time the Young Avengers had suddenly been actual Avengers and were taken to the mansion. It was marred slightly by the idea that his mother was dating Batman, shattering the illusion just a fraction, but it was easy to forget while sitting around that table. Still, he wasn’t there to be a fan. He was there to be an Avenger and, first and foremost, help people. Even if speaking after Superman made him want to throw up just a little. “Since this...is a problem that is a lot bigger than just us, I guess I have a question already.” He looked up toward the head of the table at Bruce and Steve, “Are we sharing the information we have with the X-Men?” Obviously they weren’t the Avengers and they weren’t the League, but Billy was a mutant on top of all the rest. So was everyone in his family. If it was pure radio silence on that front, that sat wrongly with him. “...Glad to be here, though,” he added. He glanced only briefly at Zatanna after she’d spoken to say, “And we didn’t all retire.” He’d never put away his suit, even if changing the world on his own was...frowned upon, to say the least.

ORACLE: "Taking on big corporations and entities of evil takes time, manpower, and strategy. I think plenty people, here and not here, tried to fight off NOVA, but you can only fight government-backed and covered-up abuse so much on your own. I think that's the point," Barbara leaned forward, not at all mad that Zatanna spoke up, if anything she was amused at her friend, with a ghost of a smirk on her face. She was also more than used to at least some of the people here making their opinions undeniably known, so she continues without hesitation. She certainly doesn't disagree that action is the priority here. "As far as their systems, I've determined timeframes I can personally have them exposed and vulnerable, both virtually and physically. I'm still working on being able to do these things undetected, but that will come soon enough. We have ways in, but we need coordination. I also think," Barbara nods to Billy, "that the X-Men will be able to help us here. Magneto may have taken responsibility, but he didn't single handedly evacuate all of NOVA's 'patients' from that place. They have experience here that's going to be invaluable, and we'd only be making ourselves weak by not attempting to reach out."

LOKI: Loki had never been a part of a team really. He had been working with the JLD at the request of the other magic users, though very few people knew about his role undercover as Johan the insane NOVA scientist. He was in it for the chaos, sure, and for the security of throwing in with the people who had absolutely pummeled him when he had tried to take over Midgard--through granted, the Mad Titan had made him insane enough to get him to do it. He had needed to be pummeled. But all that aside... this talk of justice was all new for him. What Zatanna said was right on the tip of his tongue, and mischief danced through his eyes before he clamped down on it. "I agree with our esteemed 'stage magician'," he said simply. "While all the talk of--" He switched into Steve for a moment--"injustice and saving people and what we can do together--" Back to Loki. "Is extremely moving... on Asgard when such a threat was present, we, too, gathered our strongest warriors. However, the Council usually decided that waging war was the right go ahead unless, of course, we couldn't win. But can't she wipe things from reality?" He said, nodding to Wanda. "Mightn't it be a little simpler to look to the example of the man in the metal suit? There cannot be riots if there is no NOVA left." He nodded to the one in blue with the flowing red cape. "He looks to be an impressive warrior alongside Sir Justice. Zatanna is right, what are the plans?" Why, for example, was he gathering information for them? He was happy to do it, but if the reason wasn't to more efficiently wage war... what was it. He was legitimately confused.

NIGHTWING: Dick knew firsthand how difficult it was to run a team. People seemed to assume that those who had the initiative to head up a group had all the answers, or should, and didn’t recognize that it was a collaborative effort. The fact that Bruce was willing to entertain others’ ideas and not tackle this on his own was a surprising development; in his opinion, it made it clear that things were a lot more dire than most people were willing to admit. Steve’s speech was moving and was meant to inspire them. While he understood others’ frustrations, it frustrated him that it was brushed aside just because neither of them could provide all the answers. “The point is to avoid more death and destruction,” he said. “Seems to me like waging war without fully understanding our enemy and their abilities would be a mistake. We’re all here to share what we know, so we can come up with a solid plan that limits casualties. If any one of you actually thought getting together and sharing our expertise, and we have a lot of it, is an actual waste of time, then the door’s over there.” He didn’t have a lot of patience for people complaining about things not getting things done and then… offering little in way of concrete or productive plans that WOULD get things done. “Babs is right. This is going to take a great deal of strategy if we’re going to get the upper hand, especially because this organization goes way beyond what we’re just seeing in Star City. There are other government agencies involved. It goes a lot higher up, and... I don't know if we know the extent of it yet.”

FLASH: For once in his entire life, Barry hadn't been late to something. He was worked up and wired – but relatively calm for him. They were all supposed to be a team again; and in the spirit of camaraderie he had attended the meeting in costume – but lowered his cowl once inside the conference room. “Not all of us retired, Z... I just, sort of disappeared for a while.” He fidgeted but moved on. “Barry Allen – by the way; or uh, The Flash. For those of you that I don't officially know.” He waved slightly. What was a secret identity anyway? Barry shot a look at the man – Loki – as he shifted his form and questioned about a direct course of action. “Nightwing is right.” He gestured at Dick. “Wiping something – someone, people – from reality isn't the answer... just like messing with time wasn't the answer for myself or anyone else here that has the ability to do so--” He couldn't help but eye Michael slightly. “Uh, information, right. So, the only real information I have regarding NOVA is from a conversation I had with their lieutenant, a Jihl Nabel. She played the role to a tee but the is bad blood between NOVA and the SCPD. She left an agent behind to monitor our forensics department – which I gotta say has been incredibly annoying dealing with – but I think there might be a distrust among NOVA that the local authorities will refuse to continue putting up with their presence or no longer do as they say without question.” Barry explained at length before settling back into his chair. “Sorry I don't have more information... splitting myself between forensics cases and Flash-work has left little spare time to actual tangle with these guys.”

HUMAN TORCH: Being at a round table with so many other people was a far cry from the Fantastic Four. Just Four. Johnny didn’t know half of who he was looking at, and his own personal agenda was coloring everything in his life right then. He wanted to know what the hell had happened to Peter, and he was more sure than ever that NOVA was behind whatever it was. The weird isolation they’d had to maintain mingled with his own lack of patience and just plain irritation and he’d been unable to drum up his usual sunny self for the meeting. “Preparation and strategy, sure. That’s why we’re sitting here. But if we don’t start moving right now, people are going to get killed, and I’d rather take a shot at something before that happens. So, no offense, but I want someone to point in a direction before we walk away from this table. That’s what we’re doing, right? Because NOVA is up to something sick. I’m not...sneaky special intelligence guy or scientist guy or whatever most of you sitting here are,” he glanced briefly toward Peter and swallowed, “but I don’t want to sit on my hands anymore.”

HAWKEYE: Hawkeye was sat between Nat and Spider-Man, probably looking too casual for such a Serious Gathering: his long legs kicked out in front of him and his right arm was slung over the corner of the back of his chair, an arrow twirling effortlessly between his fingertips, while his left hand rested near Nat. He at least wasn't wearing his bright purple uniform. Natasha had taken him to meet a nice kid named Shuri who had designed a whole new get up for him along with a new bow and quiver, and he had fallen a little bit in love with her for it. The bow was gorgeous all sleek lines and reinforced vibranium with a two-hundred-and-fifty pound draw weight. He might have cried when she handed it over. Just a little. His uniform was just as nice, sleek and black with gold accents. It wasn't until after he saw the completed design that he realised that he had subconsciously designed both armour and a sneak suit. Sitting there Clint wondered if this was the sort've thing he used to do all the time when he was an Avenger. It seemed like a really big group. Like, they were all actual superheroes, unlike Clint who was just a mix of innate talent and crazy amounts of practicing/honing his skills, couldn't they just...take care of any problem they ran into? He was pretty sure Tasha could take these NOVA people single-handedly, but then again, he was probably biased there. Feeling long fingers slipping in between his larger, calloused ones he glanced over at the redhead, unable to help the dopey looking grin on his face. Yeah, he was definitely biased there. Not that he could help it, he could definitely see why past-him had stuck around the Russian ex-assassin, and her stunning good looks were the least of it. Her competence frankly both terrified him and brutally turned him on. But, those weren't exactly the kind of thoughts he should probably be having in the middle of an Important Meeting. ­

His thumb idly circled against the side of Nat's hand as he listened to everyone give their opinions on the current situation, but then someone spoke up that he actually recognised. Leaning forwards a little he looked around Natasha and Bucky at Loki, grinning as he nodded at him. They'd gotten drinks a couple times since first running into each other, thankfully the other times hadn't been quite as existential as the first one, but it turned out that Loki actually as a good listener and spilling his guts to the other man had made Clint feel a little less anxious and insecure about his situation. Sitting back he listened to Loki going on and found himself nodding along, and then he was pointing at the Trickster with the arrow in his hand. "I agree with Loki."

BATGIRL: It would be a lie if Steph was all for the whole strategic thing. She felt itchy, eager to get her hands wrapped around some NOVA agent necks, especially after what happened to Commissioner Gordon. The old Steph might have jumped in and said that without a second thought, especially because Zatanna was clearly on the side of action. Sitting on her hands and thinking things through wasn’t exactly up her alley. “Pretty sure we’re all here ‘cause we’re not going to be sitting with our thumbs up our asses anymore.” She shrugged. “But I get that we have to smart about it, especially if all of you metahumans could have your power wiped out like that -“ She snapped her fingers. “I mean no offense, I’m sure a lot of you have good hand to hand combat training, but I don’t like our odds as much if that’s what we’re left with.” Yawning, she combed one hand through her thick hair. Her head felt hot underneath the Batgirl cowl. “Anyone got an actual suggestion for action? What about Jihl whoever? Is she anyone important to just some trumped up figurehead?” Picking at her nails, she shrugged. “As much as I want to wipe out NOVA, they need to pay for what they’ve done.”

SCARLET WITCH: Wanda felt her blood go cold as Loki brought up her power. She had wiped things from reality on a large scale before. She had murdered thousands, destroyed lives, put a rift between teams. The mere suggestion had her uneasy, her dark eyes lifting to the Asgardian. For the most part, she worked well with Loki, but she wasn't going to sit by and let him suggest carnage and use her as an example. "I suggest you defer to those of us who know how things are done on earth, Loki," she said. "And I'd think carefully before making reference to powers you don't understand." She let out a breath, shaking her head before continuing. "I am aware that there have already been some pushes for information, but the League and the Avengers don't take action and the lives of others into their own hands to push their agendas like my--like Magneto. But my son and Oracle are right. The X-Men will be invaluable in this fight and while an alliance the depth of ours may not be necessary, their insight is important here." Pausing, she subconsciously ran a hand over the intricate beadwork of the crown her father had made her back before all of this. "That said... I question the methods of some of their members, as they have questioned mine in the past." She hated to say that. Hated it so much, but her father was formerly an X-Man and he had close affiliations with them now. He was one of those who helped run District X. "Do we have plans to talk with them directly about where they stand after the attack on the detention center?" Her father had taken credit and said he acted alone, but her sister at the very least had been involved and she wouldn't be surprised if there were others. "I know that Cyclops is a reasonable man. Surely approaching him is a good call when we discuss taking down NOVA?"

BOOSTER GOLD: While Michael didn't have much information to give, he was just happy that the band was getting back together again - this time with even more opinionated people. The suggestion of just wiping NOVA out made him nervous, if only because he knew it would really screw with time things and a mighty disapproval would be wrought down upon him. He caught the tail end of Barry's glance that he'd thrown his way, only to return it with a look of his own. A string of silent email notifications showed up on the screen of his phone which he had hidden on his thigh, distracting him partly as he skimmed.

He'd known that Steve had managed to recruit a sizeable collection of people for the Avengers, but lumping in all the others had a lot of opinions in one room. He still wasn't entirely convinced that he belonged there among them for a whole variety of reasons, but he'd agreed to it and still believed in the overall necessity of someone being around to extend a hand when the world needed it. Even a cybernetic one. "You can't just rewrite the world every time something goes wrong in it, and you can't cut off one head and walk away thinking another one won't replace it." HYDRA had taught him that much. It was naive to think anything had a simple solution. They knew NOVA ran deeper than just the organization itself or a single person. "This has to be as much an infiltration as a fight."

RED ROBIN: Tim sat quietly. Honestly... he wished he gotten a little more sleep before coming. He was running out of coffee and this was a lot of words. Beside him, Steph was her typical, to-the-point self. Action first, overthinking later. Tim was over-thinking always, action at just the right moment. Now, he finally nodded before adding to what Babs had said. "I'm working on the tech side with Oracle," he said simply. "NOVA's well protected digitally, but not impossible." After all, at the tender age of thirteen, Tim had been capable of hacking the social security office and other big government agencies. "We'll have a lot of their structure nailed down before too long here." He had taken a break to find Jim's attempted murderer, but he was back on it now, glad to be working with his father again, his family. He was aware that they were all here in the assemblage. All except one. But it wasn't as if Jason would ever be a part of a team like this. He could imagine the smart ass bitchy response that would come out of someone even insinuating it. "The point is, we aren't doing nothing. At least... I'm not and Oracle isn't. Batman and Captain America either." Obviously. Those two were the ones who had made all this happen.

SPIDERMAN: Peter reached over to take a hold of one of Johnny's hands wordlessly, as if the gesture would help to soothe the brusque tone of his words. He was right, though - they needed to nip this in the bud sooner rather than later, before it could get any worse than this. They already had the idea that NOVA had been behind Peter's sudden loss of control. How, though? Even during a forced isolation, courtesy of an overprotective Tony Stark, he was coming up empty handed. The video footage he'd managed to find showed no signs of interference, no one performing a spell or injecting him with anything. He came up empty handed and it was frustrating as all hell, but he wasn't about to quit now, especially not when there were a lot of questions still left unanswered.

IRON MAN: This had to be the place. Funny that he expected a window or two, but he should have known better given the reputation of the Justice League. Tony didn’t know why they bothered with secrecy when it was only a matter of time before everyone knew who each and every one of them were. He entered the room without (well, maybe a little) fanfare, holding a Starbucks cup in one hand and with Steve’s shield on his arm. He pushed up his sunglasses and squinted at everyone. “First time my eyes have to adjust to the dark for a meeting, I have to say. You ever heard of natural light?” He eyed Bruce and smirked, tipping his cup in his direction. “Say no more.” Circling around the room, he found an empty chair and raised a brow at the computer screen. “Ohh, nice tech. Willing to bet that 10% of this room is looking at porn right now.” He looked at Steve and gestured to the shield, his tone shifting to one more serious for the first time since entering the room. “Figured you might need this. The thing’s gotten to be a real eyesore.”

CAPTAIN AMERICA: Steve had been listening to everyone, letting everyone speak and hearing everyone's opinions. It didn't seem too dire, but there were concerns that he and Bruce were going to need to address when things seemed to settle down a little. It was fine. They had anticipated those things. The conversations that Bruce and Steve had had before had already laid down groundwork for going to Scott, for dealing with integrating the X-Men where they could. Sue was just about to speak when an all too familiar voice cut through the room and Steve's eyes shot up. Tony. Tony had actually come... Steve had asked him to. They'd been talking on the phone since the day Tony had answered. After seven years of phone calls and messages. All of them ignored until the day Steve had really needed him. When Steve's life had felt like it was falling apart well and truly. He had left the SCPD, Nomad was behind him, there was no real Cap in front of him, Bucky had left him and there was just silence. And then he'd kept answering. Kept listening. Tony and he weren't the same. They hadn't talked as deeply on a mutual level, and he could tell that he'd have to do the work to get the other to open up to him. But he'd just... listened. Hadn't given advice, hadn't tried to placate Steve. There wasn't even any bias when he'd talked about Bucky and the pain and how lonely he'd felt in his own damn home. It had been surprising for Tony because Steve had never known him to be feelings guy. But on that level it had given Steve so much hope that every night, Tony had just sat on the other line, listening or even just pretending to. And now here he was. Because he belonged here. Tony Stark was an Avenger and would always be an Avenger, and tearing their team--their family--apart had been one of the hardest choices he'd ever made. But he'd done it. And he'd do it all over again if he had the same options in front of him. But Tony... Tony he might have handled differently. If he could have.

As the other approached him, Steve's chest ached and his stomach tightened. "Tony," he said quietly. "You came." It was perhaps too intimate a moment to experience in front of all of the assembled company, some of whom didn't know him well. But he couldn't help it. Steve had never been the type of person to hide how he was feeling and he never would be. Even Tony's stupid joke fell on deaf ears as he held out the Shield. The Shield that would feel so right on his arm. That belonged with him but had been given back to Tony because he deserved to reclaim it. Because Howard had given it to Steve and Steve had chosen to relinquish it after everything. It was a part of him, and letting Tony take it had been like giving up part of himself. Now, as it snapped into place again, like it had always been there, like it had just been waiting for Steve and Tony to remember where it belonged, where they belonged, Steve's baby blue eyes burned. Steve Rogers felt the weight of Captain America. He felt... whole. "We'll talk later," he said to the other. "But... I'm glad you came."

INVISIBLE WOMAN: Susan shot Peter an apologetic look, though there was hardly much to do. Instead, she was privy to a one man show when Tony showed up fashionably late; honestly, it was completely on brand for him, so she didn't find herself so much as batting as eyelid, but she did sink into her chair a little lower as she watched the situation between him and Steve unfold. She had to wonder, though, how far had NOVA gotten with their anti-power technology. If metahumans were still untouched, then maybe she'd be able to sneak in undetected. After all - she wasn't the Invisible Woman for nothing.

SUPERBOY: Jon felt like he didn't belong in there, before he left earth, he was a kid, so he didn't have much time to prepare, didn't have much experience, he felt like he didn't deserve to be in that room with those people that have been dealing with that life, with being a hero, for far long. He was practically hiding behind his dad, felt like he was a kid again, maybe going in there was a bad idea, "Maybe someone should shapeshift into an agent of Nova, is there any shapeshifters in here? It would be a good way to get more information," He knew it was a dangerous plan, but it was really the only thing he could think about, and he wanted to help. But he was hesitating, because like was mentioned, he was new to it all. He was self conscious, didn't want to sound stupid, as if he was a kid among the adults, as that was how he felt in a way, "Or maybe if there's any technology that can change my appearance, I could do it, I would be up for it," he wanted to do something, wanted to help, and he was willing to do anything to protect others, and to stop more people from getting hurt. 

STINGER: This right here was exactly what Cassie had dreamed of her whole life. Before her, there were a number of heroes she'd looked up to since she was a toddler. The Wonder Woman poster had hung on her bedroom wall for a solid decade before she'd been killed, and now here she was, right along with them. She wears her Stinger helmet proudly, aware that her boss was one of the men leading this meeting and, to her knowledge at least, definitely did not know an intern of his was here. Of course, she'd deal with that later. Cassie didn't let herself miss a word, and when Billy spoke, Stinger could be seen nodding emphatically beside him. When the suggestion of Wanda's powers came up, she clenched her fist as her side, torn between chiding the suggestion and defending Wanda. Still, she keeps quiet a few moments more, and has to stop herself from letting out a loud 'UNCLE TONY?!' as he walked in. Still, beneath her helmet, she's grinning as he walks in, and her eyes dart from Steve to Tony, relief her main thought for only a moment. "The X-Men should be here," she added simply, having no interest in repeating previous points other than to state her place, "and unless we want to take a stage with Magneto, we should avoid drastic and unplanned charges. No matter how much I'd love to get big, step on one of their facilities, and be done with it? Not gunna be that easy." she leans forward, her wings at her back shifting in her chair, "seems like the most obvious thing we need is information. It's real easy to eavesdrop when you're the size of a bug, just saying. I can leave mics and cameras in their ventilation if we can get around the security. It'll also give us a layout of where we hit. Which, brings up the question," Stinger turns her attention back to the two men leading,  "are there any thoughts of an actual plan, or should someone start writing suggestions down?"

BRUCE: As Bruce waited for everyone to say their piece, he was less than surprised by the responses he received from a good number of the participants. Some he knew well, like Zatanna, but her less than patient stance wasn’t unique. Action meant different things to different people. Few of them knew just how much action was being taken, under the radar, and if they did know, he wasn’t altogether convinced they would appreciate it. Knowing the opponent inside-out was integral. If they moved too quickly, they risked being surprised by the vast intel NOVA acquired over the years from their various connections. Having insiders in their organization certainly helped, but he also had to consider the possibility that NOVA was utilizing the exact same tactics. They had to be careful. He nodded wordlessly to Barbara’s input, frowning, but the atmosphere in the room darkened noticeably once the focus shifted to the X-Men. Loki’s suggestion made him raise a doubtful brow. It certainly warranted a response. “This is not Asgard and strength is not enough.” Wanda’s powers being tossed out as if they were free for exploitation made his eyes narrow and he shook his head. “As I said, the weapons they employ have the ability to render us powerless. We are not in the position to rely solely on powers of mutants, metahumans, or aliens. I understand that there are plenty of you who want to go in aggressively. Forcefully. I am telling you that it will not work. We will not win. Like all of you, I don’t want to see more people killed or hurt, but we must be smart about what we do next, or it will all be for nothing.”

He glanced at Steve and then at the others, frowning. “Cyclops is a close contact of mine and has been from the beginning. We are in constant communication. They will have a level of involvement in how we proceed, but the X-Men have always been their own entity. The invitation is there for them to join us, but I can’t say it will be accepted. Regardless, we can rely on them as allies. They do not condone the indiscriminate killing that happened at the NOVA facility. As of now, I can’t tell you what their roles will be. It is something we are currently discussing - but I do not need to tell you that their assistance will be valuable in unraveling NOVA’s operations.” He hesitated, his gaze briefly going to Wanda before he looked away again. “I understand some of you would, perhaps, side with Magneto. If that is the case, this might not be the place for you. As tempting as it is to think we can follow suit, NOVA is more prepared for that possibility now than ever before. Magneto has seen to that.”

It didn’t come natural to discuss his plans with others or tell what he knew. However, even he knew there was little choice now. “We need to understand their technology so we can disable it. I have possession of the inhibitor that targets mutants, but I need their new design. They have it well guarded. The Flash is right that the SCPD can no longer be used as a way to infiltrate NOVA. The two departments do not trust each other and that will not change. And Oracle is working day and night to break into NOVA's security systems, but she needs help. The encryption changes too often for her to maintain all she does without sleep. I need someone who is good with computers - or someone who can learn. Quickly. I am not willing to wait and see what the X-Men are willing to contribute. We need to start now. We have already started, though most of you may not know it.” Jon’s suggestion earned a rare smile and he nodded. “We already have someone who has successfully infiltrated NOVA, putting their own life at risk to better our intel. At present we have no need of another. It would only increase our risk of being discovered.” Shapeshifting and magic would do little if NOVA were successful in perfecting their newest power inhibitor. Bruce nodded at Bucky, his expression somber, “Exactly. And while it may look to many of you that we are sitting on our hands, nothing could be further from the truth. This will not be a fight with loud explosions. This organization is insidious. It is very connected with every part of Star City and its citizens, including us. Disabling their systems, cutting off their resources, and sabotaging their technology is how we win. We only move when they are at their most vulnerable."

The arrival of Tony Stark was unexpected and aggravating. Bruce waited until he took his seat. He was respectful enough not to interrupt Steve, either, and gave the two a moment before continuing as if there were no change. This time he addressed Cassie, approvingly. “We have planted devices in some of their facilities, but there are certain areas our informant does not yet have access to, specifically the lab where they are developing their newest technology. It is well guarded. You would be invaluable if you were able to take us inside. It is something we will discuss later.” Crossing his arms, his frown deepened as he looked over the crowd. “Our plan is to thoroughly understand an agency that is unlike any enemy we have ever faced. Brute force may destroy one building, or the ones we know of, but more agents will come. Their technology will survive. Their agenda will continue and be bolstered by any acts of violence. There will be a time for that, but this isn’t it. The agency needs to be exposed for what it is. Then, when we do make our move, there will not be more agents to take their place. It needs to be eradicated permanently, or the amount of people who suffer and die at their hand will only increase.” He paused. "But we are here to collaborate, so if anyone here has a better idea for an approach that will permanently rid Star City of NOVA, do not hesitate to share it."

CAPTAIN AMERICA: Steve looked at Loki, sighing before he moved to pinch at the bridge of his nose. "Wars aren't won with brute strength. I've fought several. I know how they work. Battles might be, but we aren't battling. We're at full-scale war with an enemy we don't understand. And we are taking steps. Scott Summers and I don't speak constantly, but he's a good man and he wants to protect his people as much as I do. We want people to be safe and we want NOVA gone, but they can't be mutually exclusive." He looked to his fellow leader before nodding in approval. "Batman is right. In this case, shock and awe will never work and they'll wipe out half our powers before we even get into the gate. Some of us might make it unaffected. Not all of us rely on powers. But with our numbers cut into less than half, where would we be?" Steve caught Bucky's eyes with a meaningful look, as if to say 'Please watch him. After all, he didn't care if Loki wanted to mock or belittle him. But he did care if he brought the meeting out of hand. As Bruce brought up tech, Steve looked pointedly at Tony. That was his bread and butter all day long. "We have a number of scientists and tech mavens in this city that I know would align with this cause. Red Robin and Oracle are working hard. Tony, could you put Stark resources on it too?" He looked to Bruce now, adding, "I wouldn't overlook the Wakandan embassy, by the way. Shuri isn't an Avenger, but she's been a loyal ally for a long time. They have tech in Wakanda that even surpasses what I've seen with Tony and Reed. It might be worth connecting the group of you to see if she can help."

Looking out to the assembled group, he finished with, "We want to eradicate this threat, but I again agree with Batman. We don't want to do it the way they expect us to. If we attack them head on like some of you suggest, we'll lose. It's a long game, and it's a hard one, but we saw what happened when Pete--Spider-Man attacked one of the NOVA agents. I don't believe that was his fault, but it escalated things." Steve's eyes found Bucky's again. "We don't know how it happened, or if NOVA was involved, but it's exactly the kind of thing Batman's talking about. A lot of you know that I've been on the side of punch first, questions later. I'll fully admit that. But it's not the answer here. We don't know what they have or what we're up against. We need your support in the long game. And we're asking for your trust in a lot of ways. I asked all of the Avengers personally to be here. You all agreed, so you must trust me, and I trust Batman and the Justice League. Trust like that, trust that we are all working towards the same goal, is gonna be imperative."

“If we’re getting insider information, the kind that can turn the public tide against NOVA, then we need to use it.” Clark didn’t ask for specifics. If Bruce or Steve had put someone inside NOVA, he had to trust that whatever information they produced would be legitimate. “We all saw at the riots that there’s still public support for NOVA, and more of it than any of us probably feel comfortable with. If we’re fighting a war, then we’re looking at more than one front, and the people are one of them. If we have something to erode their support, it needs to be disseminated, and we have contacts who can do it.” Him, namely, but he didn’t say so. He looked from his son beside him back up to Bruce at the head of the table. “Take it to Lois. We’ll be fighting twice as hard if there are still people convinced that NOVA are the good guys here.” The air of impatience around the table was palpable from some of the other people. He understood. In a way, he was with them. The long game that Bruce played and that they all had to play right then was frustrating, but their problem would be infinitely worse if they acted too soon and too rashly. “We have a lot of different strengths here, that I can see, and if this is going to work then we’ll play to all of them. But not at the same time.”

HAWKEYE: Clint was not built for meetings. There were way too many people in one room, all of whom had something to say. Clint, on the other hand, had nothing to say. He was a circus performer and a thief. This good guy shit and should they shouldn't they and rules nonsense was grating and more and more he was starting to feel closed in, like he didn't belong there, and that getting out was the best idea he ever had. If it hadn't been for Natasha's fingers tangled with his he would've been gone already, but she wanted him here and making her happy made him feel like less of a failure, so he wasn't going to run out. That didn't mean he had to keep listening though. Growing up a criminal circus meant Clint's legerdemain skills were very nearly flawless, and it wasn't too difficult for him to slip off one hearing aid while he was replacing the arrow he'd been playing with back in his quiver, and the other when he reached up to scratch at the closely shaved hair of his undercut. With both his aids out he couldn't hear anything, blissful silence wrapping around the archer. If, for some reason, someone was paying attention to him specifically there was a chance they'd catch the sleight of hand trick, but most of the table was looking at the caped brunet with the really nice chiseled jawline at the head of the table who was currently talking. There was a pretty damn good chance Natasha would notice since she was sitting right next to him, but he'd done his best to pick a moment when her attention was diverted. Reaching into a pocket of his uniform Clint let the aids drop from his palm as he pulled out a Peanut Butter & Chocolate Chip protein bar, unwrapped it with his teeth and one hand and then proceeded to take a bite.

FALCON: It was unfortunate that Sam didn't have much, if any, information to pass on to the rest of the team, but he was willing to help out wherever he was needed. This was a group effort if they were going to take this force down - it wasn't going to be easy, not by a long shot, but he trusted Steve. He'd followed him before, he'll do it again, even if they didn't necessarily have a concrete plan moving forward. Whoever their insider was, something needed to happen before things got worse. While Superman spoke (seriously, Superman), Sam took note of movement down his right. He shot Clint a look when he noticed he had a granola bar of some sort between his teeth. He had to press his lips together to keep from smiling too wide, but kept his attention on Superman instead, in the hopes that he could just ignore whatever it was that Clint was doing. Now really wasn't the time.

BLACK WIDOW: Natasha should have known that bringing Clint to this meeting was a mistake. But she had thought that he would want to be there because this was who they were. This was their family and even if Clint didn't remember that, he had expressed a desire to be with her for things. When she had come home from Moscow, he had seemed upset that she hadn't brought him. She knew he didn't know what was going on, but when they talked with Rachel, he was going to remember and, going forward, he was going to need this information. At least... she had thought so. And then she saw him take his hearing aids out. And just tune it all out like helping people didn't matter to him. Like trying to hear what was going on and understand or file questions away to ask her later wasn't important to him. Her stomach tightened and Natasha slipped her hand from his. Most people knew her to have a very level expression, but when her hand shot out to catch his face so he could see her clearly, the first look was just utterly devastated disappointment, and the second slipped that away like a mask went on and her eyes were cold as Siberia. Letting go of his face when she was sure he was looking at her, Natasha signed quickly. <<Go home, Clint. Just go. No point in being in a chair here if you don't care and if you don't want to be here. Go home and I'll be back after.>>

HAWKEYE: Clint was aware that slipping his aids and grabbing a snack wasn't exactly professional behaviour, but he'd at least been quiet about it, and now that he had put his arrow away and had nothing to fiddle with it was better to keep something in his hands, or he was going to start poking at the tablets in front of them and get really distracted in a way that would likely be more disruptive than his snack. There was a voice in the back of his mind suggesting he could try following along to what was being said and try to piece together the bigger picture, but that wasn't what he did. He might have been forty-eight physically, but without his memories and life experiences of the last twenty-five years he was basically a twenty-three year old carnie thief playing dress up. He was doing his best, for Natasha's sake, but, like most other things in life, he was pretty sure he was failing. The moment Natasha's hand slipped from his Clint already knew he fucked up. That knowledge was confirmed when his face was grabbed and turned in her direction and he saw her face. Aw, disappointment, no. Disappointment was even worse than if she'd gotten pissed at him. Disappointment took him straight back to being a kid hiding from a father's disappointment because it came along with a belt and fists. The rotten feeling settled in his stomach, Clint's lips turned down in a frown. Blue eyes watched her sign, and for a moment he considered insisting on staying, that he could give it another try and do it better. But this wasn't like mastering a new trick shot. He couldn't just do it over and over again until it was flawless. He didn't sign back, at least recognising that now was not the time to get into a discussion. Instead he just, as unobtrusively as possible, stood up, slipped between the chairs, and then was gone and out the door.

IRON MAN: Tony brushed off Steve’s words as if his presence were inconsequential and expected, even though he knew it was just the opposite. “I wanted to see Supes and the Big Scary Bat in person. Not to mention an actual goddess with a lasso.” He arched an eyebrow and nodded in the direction of the three. “Have to say I thought they’d be taller.” Steve’s offer to talk later was met with a dismissive nod and he rolled back and forth in his chair, his foot balanced on one of the table legs. The years he spent with the Avengers made him a better listener. Maybe it made him a better team player too, unless the idea was a bad one or could use some work, and he was quick to agree to Steve’s request for tech. Unlike the others, he didn’t know much about NOVA aside from what he’d seen at the riots. He was too distracted by other things that were going on. Pepper’s injury and Peter’s complete snap from reality took most of his attention these days. One of the main reasons he was here was because he hoped someone would have some damn insight on what happened at the protest. He watched some cell phone video a kid shot over and over again, but there was nothing he could pinpoint that should have set Pete off. Not that he could figure out, anyway, and it put him on edge.

It was news to him that the X-Men would want anything to do with whatever game plan they agreed on. Tony snorted softly. “So, you don’t have the X-Men fully on board yet. What happens if they start to see logic in Magneto’s ideas? Do you intend to trust them with all of this information if they aren’t technically working with us, if there even exists the possibility that they might do something not so Justice Avenging Leagueish with it?” He frowned, rubbing his mouth thoughtfully. “And if we’re going to send Stinger in and risk her safety inside an institute that has the power to eliminate her power, what then? What’s the contingency plan? What if she pops inside an air duct at the exact moment they’re testing their new inhibitor? Do we have an inhibitor for an inhibitor? Something to disrupt the frequencies? Can I get my hands on one of these things? I understand you just have one, but I’d like a good look at it.” Clint’s subtly went unnoticed by him at first, he was too caught up in the various possibilities and pitfalls of action, but when he realized, belatedly, what just happened, he couldn’t hold back a laugh. “Someone’s in the doghouse."

ZATANNA: Good lord, there were a lot of children here. She was used to that with Bruce, he seemed to have an affinity for finding damaged orphans and giving them the ability to punch their problems away. You'd think therapy would be cheaper, but hey, everyone did things differently. "You don't have to infiltrate to get more information on them. If you want a look at what they're doing and what they've got, I can do that, easy. I just need a mirror and ... don't worry about the rest, I'll deal with it." Handing Seymour, her sweet baby bunny, to Babs so she could sit up (she was a hand talker), she leaned forward on the table. "In terms of a plan, since brute force isn't an option, and I have to agree, even though setting everything on fire is very tempting, I think we need to separate this group into smaller groups. There's no way we're going to get shit done when 30 people have to sign off on it. Make an information team, a tech team, one who looks for human error, which is my specialty, and a team of people who don't have powers who can take over if any of us get inhibited. If everyone has a smaller goal, each piece comes together and forms a structure that holds the overall plan together. Like a spell." Leaning back, she grinned at Babs. "See, I can be helpful. Just cuz I'm an asshole doesn't mean I'm worthless." She spread her hands to show Bruce that she was trying and playing well with others. She also sent Loki a mental message that said "wanna play a game while the mortals argue over tech?"

STINGER: Cassie went from grinning under her helmet at Batman's approval, to heaving a sigh when Tony spoke and said her name. She doesn't even bother speaking at the moment, simply rolling her eyes dramatic enough to be seen with her helmet on, and drumming the tabletop with her fingers, suddenly remembering the stubbornness of the older Avengers. 

ORACLE: Barbara lets herself observe the mishmash of people, and can't help but wonder what they were in for. She lets out a soft 'oh' as the rabbit was placed in her lap, but she accepts, head tilting as she listened to her friend speak. Her face slides into an approving smirk. She chuckles just a little, "Sure Z, now be open to criticism, hmm?" she turns back to everyone after (gently) handing seymour back, "she's not wrong that smaller components will be easier. And Superman is right, we need to shift at least what some people think. If we have information that can do that, we should as soon as possible. It doesn't matter how much prep we do before we attack if no one likes us once we're done. Also, cutting public support means strangling their wallets." She turns to Tony Stark, eyes narrowing slightly, thoroughly unimpressed with his display so far, but ultimately she knows she has to work with him, "There are ways to disrupt the inhibitor, Magneto used a big ass EMP. Theoretically, we could replicate that. That also runs the risk of frying a lot of information we could use against them, so it's a work in progress," she finishes, giving him a nod, certainly not about to deny the help.

IRON MAN: Tony raised his eyebrows in response to Barbara. "There are ways to disrupt the X-Gene inhibitor, but no one has gotten their hands on this new, supposedly updated power inhibitor, isn't that right? Therefore, we don't know if it operates like its predecessor. NOVA strikes me as an agency that learns from its mistakes." He let his foot fall to the floor and sat up straighter in his chair. "Magneto used the EMP with the intention of destroying the facility. He was not hiding. We're talking about a reconnaissance mission, quite different, and an EMP attack wound announce our presence loud and clear. Any device Stinger manages to plant would be undoubtedly discovered - or, at the very least, they would know we compromised their security and we lose any chance of securing valuable intel. Or, as you rightly said, our own technology is damaged and rendered useless. Worst case scenario, they catch her." He paused. "And all that is if an EMP would even be effective against this.... new inhibitor, for lack of a better term. Inhibitor 2.0?" Shrugging, he took a drink of his coffee. "I don't know about you, but I don't risk lives over ifs. Before we send anyone in, we need to know exactly how it works - and if it works similarly to the X-Gene inhibitor, an EMP is not the solution. We can't just kill their technology and expect them not to notice. No, we need to block Stinger - and there's a very simple way we can accomplish that and protect our own equipment, without tipping off the Nazis. They'd never even know we were there. I'm talking about our own version of a faraday cage. A very tiny one."

WICCAN: “You can’t completely keep the X-Men in the dark,” Billy insisted at the mere implication. There were a dozen other things to respond to, but if he was going to advocate for something, he felt like that had to be the thing. The potential fallout of not doing it was too great, and the last thing they needed was the biggest gathering of mutants to somehow be against them right from the beginning. At least Bruce and Steve didn’t seem to be in line with Tony’s thinking, and he was a little bothered (but not surprised) by his mother leaning that way, too. Magneto’s involvement complicated everything, as always. That was all the more reason not to give him more ammunition. He raked his hand back through his hair. “What uh...what’s a faraday cage?” Should he know that? In a lot of ways, Billy was one of most powerful people in that room, but he was reminded constantly what his shortcomings were.

LOKI: Loki listened to the back and forth and felt himself beginning to fade in a lot of ways. He had said his piece, they had rejected it, and so he was content to just do what he had been doing. Though he had to laugh as several people brought up infiltration like it was some new concept he hadn’t implemented from his own creativity before he was ever officially an Avenger. “Infiltration. How novel. What an idea.” He smirked before sitting back. “But if you already have an inside man, I’m sure they’re simply waiting for the right time—and the perfect information—to accomplish what Lord Bulging Biceps—“ Loki gestured to Superman “—is saying we should do. Could you not charge said inside man with retrieving one of these precious inhibitors? Before blowing open the entire operation with the right words in the right ears?”

He was offering himself for more risk. He knew that. But he had just been promoted. And he was going to get those papers signed. He and Jihl Nabel were friendly—as friendly as one could be with a horrible creature of untold evil (he both respected her as a villain and was completely astounded by her)—and he was part of their science and development team already. “Since the typically Metal-suited imbecile seems so concerned with the girl’s safety, why divert more effort to adding an additional person, who might not understand the layout and the internal politics of the organization and would just be blindly looking around, and not simply use what you have?” He shook his head, pushing to his feet. Abruptly he teleported behind the girl in the helmet—that was her name, wasn’t it—and made a show of peering closer. “You’re quite thin, you know? Very little. How are you with hand to hand combat if you do get caught, like Stark says? You won’t have your powers, so all you’d have would be your natural Midgardian fortitude.” Even without his magic, Loki had trained with the his mother, the Valkyrie, and the Asgardian army for over a thousand years, his Jotun physiology and natural state outranked any Midgardian’s in stature, durability, and strength. They relied on powers, as did he, but he wouldn’t be much of a trickster if he only had one trick.

It seemed to him that the conversation was becoming a bit circular, and Loki was an expert tactician but only when he did have an equal seat at the table. He was under no illusions about that now. Well, he was always under illusions, but those were literal. Most of them didn’t trust him. And maybe they still wouldn’t even when it was revealed that he’d been a plant the entire time he’d been on Midgard, and he understood that Thanos had taken any and all credibility that he hadn’t lost for himself. So he had said his second piece and teleported back to his chair. Green eyes meet the Good Captain’s. “You didn’t ask me here personally, but I am at your disposal. I do hope you don’t waste me, but point me as you will.” He looked to Zatanna, an expression of amusement on his face. His fingers moved through the air subtly before the pen next to the redhead now playing with the rabbit turned into a large carrot. He smirked before replying mentally: What did you have in mind?

STINGER: The young blonde went from a facepalm to indignant when Tony and Oracle were going back and forth. She'd expected some protectiveness, but she figured they might get through maybe half a meeting before it started. It was Loki appearing behind her that made her stand, clenching her fist at her side and staring him down without any hesitation, but she lets him finish.  She didn't sit again even when Loki did, and her eyes turned, positively glaring at Tony "I wouldn't volunteer to go if I wasn't sure I could handle it. I've been one of the ones in the streets fighting the creeps, and you haven't seen what I can do yet," her eyes deliberately shift to Bruce now as she retakes her seat. The hand that's hidden under the table next to Billy is clenched, and if she didn't have her gloves on, her nails may have down a number on her palms. She echoes what Bruce said before, "we'll discuss later, including safeguards for crappy outcomes." she grows quiet again, silently fuming, but knowing any extreme outburst would just be taken as an excuse to further infantilize her. One thing she hadn't missed? The tightrope walk that young heroes always had to face while on a larger team.

IRON MAN: Tony stared at Loki with vague annoyance. “If that inside man were at all proficient, we would have it by now. I’m not sitting with my thumb in my ass waiting on him to drop it by at his convenience.” It was clear to him who the inside man was and he could think of no one more ill-suited than Loki, who was proving himself useless so far. “Coming from someone who can offer nothing productive to the conversation or offer their own solution, personal insults are the next best option.” He clicked his tongue. “Predictable, Poki. I’m disappointed in you. If you were paying any attention, you would realize your “concern” is misplaced and invalid. But I suppose I can’t fault you entirely - how old are you now? Oh, you don’t have to answer that. None of my business. I was just wondering if gods also decline with age. If so... well, I've been awfully insensitive. Please, someone pull up Wikipedia here for our friend so he can keep up with the conversation. And toss in a dictionary. Most of the words aren’t monosyllabic.” Tony winked at Loki, smirking. “That should keep you more occupied than a virgin in a strip club.” His expression softened when he looked at Cassie and he leaned across the table, his voice lowering and becoming uncharacteristically serious. “I know you can handle it, kid. I know exactly what you can handle. What I’m trying to do is give you the tools to get in there and get out undetected. No one in this room has the ability to evade a power inhibitor, aside from those of us without any power to start with. I’m not saying you shouldn’t go or that I don’t trust you to go, but I want all of the information first. I’d want that for anyone in this room."

Sitting back, he spread his hands and looked around the table. “Can we return to viable solutions? That seems to be what we’re interested in. Does anyone have access to the materials I’ll need to construct a faraday cage? Or… well, it should really be a pouch. That would be far more maneuverable.” At that point he recalled Billy’s question and shifted his gaze to him. “A faraday cage blocks electromagnetic fields, radiation and frequencies. It acts as a filter against those wavelengths and shields the interior of the cage. It also protects against EMPs. Whether or not this will be effective depends on this new power inhibitor, but it requires specific materials to construct. I don’t have them on hand, unfortunately. I can get them, but if anyone has them at the ready I’ll gladly take them off your hands. I’ll need… let’s see…” He tapped two fingers against his chin. “Shielding Fleece, make sure it’s HF+LF - oh, forget it. I’ll take care of the materials. The whole pouch thing more complicated, but better suited for this scenario."

FLASH: Barry listened intently to the arguments and pieces everyone had to say. When the conversation circled back to him, he opened his mouth – but closed it when the doors of the meeting room opened and someone else joined them. 

ROBIN: "Sorry, Flash, but this is important." Damian Wayne barged into the meeting area with a slight pant to his breath, collapsing his bo staff and stashing it on his utility belt. He been preoccupied with a little criminal apprehension that Bruce had sent him on – but it had taken him a little longer than expected when something interesting came up. Sure, Damian had radioed in to his father to let him know he was running late but he hadn't explained why. So the teen swept through the room, light dancing off his red and green kevlar. It was a moment before he finally lowered his hood. “I know I'm late, Batman.” He reported. “I thought this would be better to show everyone in person though.” He said bluntly before setting a small black camera onto the table in front of him. “I was in the process of dealing with Kite-Man like you asked when he mentioned having made cameras that got near the NOVA HQ. I took a moment to look and this...” He explained and gestured to the device he had brought in, “was captured by one of his cameras. It had an odd placement and when I found it – a very odd energy signature emanating from it.” Damian stated before finally eyeing the large gathering of mostly strangers he did not recognize. "Whatever it is, it isn't normal. You don't stash security cameras in awkward crevices where they can't really see people." He frowned and folded his arms before moving to take an actual seat at the first empty seat he could find - an empty seat; one so 'graciously' emptied by his Father's insistence on standing broodily. It was different, being a part of the 'Big Leagues' meetings instead of the younger teams for once. Damian wasn't sure whether or not he liked it - the amount of attention on the one speaking was intense.

HUMAN TORCH: “Smaller teams. That’s something. Not everybody is suited for every job, but at least the rest of us would know where we might come into place. It’s not like thirty people can be barging onto the scene to infiltrate and spy. If we’re just waiting our turn, at least we’d know who we were waiting with.” He returned the squeeze to Peter’s hand, trying to quell his own temper, because he was a hair away from snapping like Cassie had. The device suddenly laid on the table was a distraction, at least. Johnny could offer one thing about it immediately. “It’s producing heat. Like,” he leaned forward far enough to reach for the camera but didn’t actually touch it with his hand. He didn’t need to. “A lot of it, really fast, really contained.”

ZATANNA: "Look, I get that half of you are tech gods, but I don't really think the details of that are helpful right now. " Which wasn't just because Z had no idea what Tony was talking about. "You and Babs are now the heads of the tech team. You guys pick your squad like in gym class and go fight it out together about whose circuit board is bigger." She assumed large circuit boards were better but honestly had no clue. "And Loki is right, infiltration will be the most dangerous part. Sending in anyone who isn't absolutely prepared is stupid. I get that you're all young and invulnerable to the dangers of the world, but this shit is real. I've lost my magic before. You don't know what it's like to not have your power, it's like suddenly losing a limb. Either you train while inhibited and prove yourself, or the grownups get to keep you at home. It's not about who's smartest or has the shiniest suit, it's about who won't die if they only have a knife and their brain to work with. Bruce has to be in charge of infiltration and whatever he says, that's what we do." Z nodded at Bruce because, duh. Just as Barry was about to speak, probably too fast and technical for Z to understand, Damian almost literally popped in. He was babbling about a camera, which Johnny Storm (Z always remembered cute guys, especially ones who burst into flames) said was emanating heat. "Jesus, if it's hot, who knows what else it's putting out. Tcetorp sdleifecrof!" A glowing bubble went up around the thing. "That thing could have tracking stuff or be nuclear or have a fucking spell on it and you brought it here?" Staring at Damian like he was the dumbest person she'd ever seen on this planet of Earth, she slowly swivelled her chair to look at Bruce. "I didn't realize it was bring your kid to work day." She turned the computer mouse into a Damian doll and sent it flying through the air to Loki. "Anyone else wanna risk total exposure of our super secret attempts to overthrow an authoritarian regime? No?"

WONDER WOMAN: The atmosphere in the meeting room felt tense. Diana sat still, quiet, as she soaked in everyone's opinions on the matter at hand. While she had no intel to share, she did know where she was best suited and where her strengths laid. While she did remain silent for much of the conversation, looks and body language did not go amiss. She watched everyone closely; whatever it was that Bruce and Stinger had to discuss later on, she trusted them to know what they were talking about. She was a soldier, a warrior, through and through. A diplomat, first and foremost, but a spy? An infiltrator? She would leave that to Bruce. She trusted him enough for that. "Agreed," she nodded to Zatanna before glancing to her right at Bruce, "You are better suited in that department than most of us here. If you trust this inside man to deliver us results, then I will stand by it. But we need more information sooner than later; there will be worse to come than just riots. These people are worried, scared for their lives, and many still have not been able to recover from that destruction." Diana narrowed her eyes at the now contained device floating in the middle of the meeting room. "Why would a camera like that need to be hidden in such a way? Do you think it was there deliberately?" She asked, gaze now on Damian.

BATGIRL: Everyone around her might as well have been speaking a foreign language. She leaned in to get a better look at Damian’s camera he seemed so proud of, but it looked like a regular old camera to her. As much as she used to admire Zatanna, the tone she took with Damian made Steph bristle protectively. “Sure, training under Batman must mean he’s stupid enough not to check for tracking devices. Give him more credit than that. All you’ve done is order people around and feed a rabbit in your hat.” Steph sat with her arms crossed, frowning, and squirmed uncomfortably as she grew more and more aware of just how little she had to offer in the way of teams. Punch first and ask questions later was what she did. It was her thing. Pretty much her only thing. She started out at a disadvantage, but years of training made her hand to hand combat impressive (if she could say so herself), and now she couldn’t even use it? Sounded like some bullshit. Yeah, she got it, but it sucked to feel like a useless lump when she was supposed to be Batgirl. “So a tech team, a… spy/sleuthy team, a computer digital hackery team - or does that fall in the same category as tech? Actually that’d be more up your alley, Babs. Maybe you should head that up." Drumming her fingers on the table, she looked up at Bruce. "And during all this patrol is continuing as always, so we’d need a team for that, right? Can’t forget to watch the street while you guys go running around in faraway bags.”

SCARLET WITCH: Wanda watched the people around her as they reacted before feeling herself beginning to get frustrated at the antics. Shaking her head, she sat up, her dark eyes flashing. "I think the irreverence--" She glanced to Loki, Zatanna, and Tony, who she admired for their bluntness but felt herself getting irritated with in this large setting, "--isn't getting us anywhere, for one. I think it's safe to assume that Steve and Bruce won't be underusing anyone. If they didn't have a need for each of us, they wouldn't have requested our presence." Her expression softened as she looked at Johnny and Peter, Steph, and those who were simply trying to determine their place. "Steph is right. While we are making large moves in subtle ways, there are still atrocities going on every day. And there's danger all over the city. Those with more martial skill can certainly keep people protected on patrols and it's not a lesser job. It's just as important." Her gaze turned to her son now. "I don't think we're going to exclude them, bubbi," she told him, her love name for him slipping out without her realizing it. "None of us want that. Tony's saying that if we don't know what they believe and where they stand, that it's dangerous to expect them to react in any way. He's not wrong, but no one is going to keep them in the dark." And if they were, Wanda wouldn't be comfortable with it. Her attention turned outward. "I know Magneto is a risk. He always is." He always had to make everything more complicated with his black and white inability to realize that he didn't deserve to play god just because it was the fastest way to help or get his point across. "But I think that Bruce and Steve's decision to speak to Scott solidifies that the X-Men will be involved, and we can trust that information will be disseminated to them and exchanged between us."

She hoped that put that concern to rest, because they could keep dwelling on the same three points, but they would be here all night. Clint had already demonstrated that that wasn't going to work for some people. She glanced to Tony, "For your cage, perhaps you can talk to Shuri. I certainly don't think that we have anything like shielding fleece in our attic." She gave him a wry grin. Then Damian was barging in and there was a strange device and she swallowed before looking to Steve and Bruce. "Do you two think it's safe to say we've covered what we need to for the general group? As several people have pointed out, this isn't their expertise. I assume this object needs to be studied. I don't want to adjourn your meeting for you, but I think that, with this new discovery, we might do well to start to close it up?" Her expression to Bruce was gentle, supportive. She hoped he didn't see her question as disinterest or otherwise something to say that the meeting wasn't important anymore, but she wanted people to be able to crack into this new focal point and she trusted that new information would be shared by Bruce and Steve as they obtained it.

BOOSTER GOLD: "I'm down with keeping up patrol. I've got NOVA's patrol sched down tight for the north side of the city, so if anyone wants that, let me know. I can have my bro Skeets send it via email; he's got built in Wi-Fi and it's like, crazy fast." Even though he was a little disappointed that he couldn't offer much else, Michael was glad that things were happening. Finally. It felt good to be part of a team again, even if he was reduced to patrol. Still, he could fly, so it made sense he stick with that. Skeets might be a little smarter in the technology department, especially that of the twenty-first century, but Michael wasn't going to pretend to know anything about what they all were talking about. "But if you guys need me anywhere else, I'm cool with that, too. Just say the word, I'm there." He threw up a gesture, thumb and pinky outstretched and he shot a quick grin before he settled back into his seat with elbows on the table.(edited)

BUCKY: The whole display with Clint and the expression on Natasha’s face had him briefly distracted from all the rest. He was there for Steve, first and foremost, and to help where he could, but his attention was quickly pulled in other directions. Wordlessly, he reached with his right hand beneath the table and laid it against her knee, neither looking at her or acknowledging what had happened. A fucking protein bar. Really? He was sincerely, deeply trying to be sympathetic to what was not an unfamiliar situation to him, but it only went so far. For better or for worse, Loki and Tony’s back and forth quickly had everyone looking elsewhere, and the revelation of NOVA’s device brought something else yet again. “I can help with patrol, but we’ve got a crew on this side,” he gestured at himself and nodded vaguely toward Natasha, “with a few decades of espionage and intelligence, for what it’s worth. I’ll be a little more inconspicuous than it looks right now.” Shuri’s upgrade to provide temporary camouflage for the cybernetic arm would see to that. “But I’ve never seen anything like that,” he gestured toward the camera on the table.”

SUPERGIRL: Even though Kara was only listening, she watched everyone at the table. She paid close attention. Some seemed to have good ideas, but others were bent on complaining on the lack of ideas - a frustration she could understand, but also found hypocritical and counterproductive. She wasn't a new member of the Justice League. She saw firsthand how difficult it was to lead people who didn't really want to be told what to do, or thought they knew best, but then did nothing but complain. The name-calling and demeaning behavior was upsetting and unnecessary. Wanda's kindness was a breath of fresh air. Kara smiled at her, hands clasped underneath the desk, but then she turned her attention to Bucky. "I can help with the espionage. Robin said the cameras are hidden in strange spaces no one would normally look...  not easily found, and unless NOVA has found a way to make their walls impenetrable to me, I'll be able to see through them." It was certainly a different sort of espionage, but having X-Ray vision came in handy when you were trying to find people - or things. "And I can see the electromagnetic spectrum. Thermal imaging will help me find the cameras, or even the location of the inhibitors." She paused. "But if the new ones also depower Kryptonians... I don't know, but it is worth a try. Perhaps the range is small and I won't have to get close enough for it to affect me."

SPIDERMAN: While Peter understood why he was being benched, he didn’t have to like it, not when he could be doing some good that the city desperately needed; regardless of how its people currently felt about him. Though as tempting as it was to do more than just remote work (if they would even allow him that), it would be stupid to go against Steve's and Bruce’s call, especially since they still didn’t know what was wrong with him. Of course, that wasn’t going to stop him from opening his mouth and offering himself anyway — “I’ve worked my way around a few security systems before; if Oracle needs a hand with that, I can always help out remotely... If that’s an option?” Knowing how overprotective some of them were, his offer would likely be shot down, but he had to try anyway, right? If he was going to be stuck behind four walls, at least stick him in front of a computer.

SUPERBOY: Despite the fact that he didn't have a lot of experience with being an adult, he was a hero before he left Earth. He could be a kid, but he was still good at it, so when they talked about doing patrols, he without thinking twice, offered himself to help, "I would love to help with patrolling. I do that a lot already, so it would be nothing new to me," every day, he went out and flew around the city, looking for someone that he could help. He wished there was more that he could do to help, but unfortunately, that was the only thing that he could do. It was already something he supposed, and better than nothing.

STINGER: Though it was hidden behind her helmet, Cassie's face softened as Tony spoke. She'd talk to him later certainly, but for now, she wasn't exactly raring to drag too much more attention to her. And, truly, had her attention not been completely engrossed by whatever it is Robin had just brought in, she would have rounded on the cranky magician lady, but as it was, Stinger didn't really think about it as she stood, shrunk, and let her wings carry her over to the device on the table. She tried to see things from her small angle, even behind the forcefield. She looks up at Johnny, "Hot enough to where it would hurt me if I could get in?" she crouches on the table, no more than a few inches tall, trying to get a look, "once we make sure that it's not recording us at all, and once we make sure that hotness isn't like.... energy getting ready to explode, I'd love to take a look. Nice find. But, uh--" she turns back to Zatanna, "this forcefield would potentially protect against an explosion, right?" and, as she's talking, takes flight in her tiny form and moves ever so slightly further away.

BATMAN: Bruce stood silently as Steve spoke. Before the meeting they had time to outline what it would be about, but it was impossible to anticipate the response they would receive. Regardless, Bruce was well versed in the abilities of everyone present, even the Avengers he never met. What gave them leverage in this partnership was the variety of strengths and expertise they had at their disposal. The only thing standing in the way was ego - and there was far too much of it in the first ten minutes. He didn’t fault the group for not seeing the value in a long game. They waited long enough for a plan of action and now they were being told they would have to wait even longer. Unfortunately, there was no way around it. It was just not that simple. Handing out tasks was something he discussed with Steve before the start of the meeting. Separating everyone into specific groups that played to their strengths was the best strategy. It certainly had a far higher chance of success than a full frontal attack, which was what some were oddly fixated on. “You might find temporary satisfaction in action, lethal or otherwise, but if that were the solution then NOVA would have been destroyed a long time ago. Captain America and I both recognize the value of infiltration, from various angles, and we simply do not have the time - or the ability - without you. You are here because we need your help, but it is your choice whether or not to go forward.”

Public perception was a tactic Bruce was well acquainted with after years of being in the spotlight and using the media to distort his image. He inclined his head in Clark’s direction, indicating his agreement. “The Gazette’s expose on the detention centers was the first real step in that direction. The public is largely influenced by what NOVA wants them to see. But there is more than one way. In this day and age, public shaming has incredible influence. Secret recordings that discredit an agency would go viral. It can be just as effective as journalism. Those of you on patrol will also be in charge of that - but be careful.The expose was successful because it did not distort or exaggerate the facts. Out messages can have the same impact on our peers as both Miss Lane and Mr Kent have with the media.” Clint’s strange behavior and subsequent exit earned a brief glance in Steve’s direction. Bruce said nothing, but they would be discussing it later. Long ago, he made a point of trusting Steve to decide who should and shouldn’t join the Avengers. This was the first time Bruce actually questioned his judgment. Even though personalities like Tony’s were abrasive and obnoxious, Bruce still recognized the point he was making and it was one he agreed with. “No one will be going into any facility until we are prepared. That includes having contingency plans in place.”

Zatanna and Tony’s back and forth made him consider if they should have employed a raise your hand if you have something to say protocol. While he’d hoped everyone would act like reasonable adults, he was especially disappointed in Zatanna because of their history. Their shared past was a close one and he gave her a look that, while on the outside appeared stern, was also a silent request for respect - if not for the group, then the integrity of the meeting. She was better than this. “That is exactly it, but you will not be making the decision of who is on what team, Zatanna.” Despite his frustration, he couldn’t help but be a little amused. As Barbara and Tony argued over the technology, he focused on Billy’s concerns for the X-Men. “Rest assured, Cyclops will be kept well-informed.” Trust didn’t come easily to Bruce and he didn’t fully trust many people, but that was something separate. He did trust certain people for certain tasks, and he knew Scott would not sabotage their efforts or use the information in a way that would hurt the team. They were all on the same side. With any luck, he could encourage them to help.

Not that he was looking forward to adding more strong personalities to the already contentious group. Loki and Tony’s back and forth was giving him a headache and Damian’s interruption was a welcome respite from the bickering. While he’d been in communication with him through an earpiece, Bruce had been given no explanation as to why Damian was late or what had happened. Troubled, he listened to his explanation with a frown. “Where was this building, Robin?” While he appreciated Zatanna’s support, he held up a hand in response to her surprisingly abrasive words, then shook his head gently at Cassie’s suggestion and turned the camera over in his hand. “There is no need. The heat is intense, as you said -“ He nodded at Johnny’s assessment. “But it is residual. It is slowing down. Cooling.” Producing a small tool from his belt, he opened it back up and saw that Damian already disabled its tracking device. Just as he taught him. It wouldn’t have mattered. The room was protected from being tracked just like the Batcave, but he kept that information to himself. “I assume you scanned it for explosives.” Not that he felt he needed to ask. Damian was well-trained, or Bruce never would have trusted him to be out on his own. Still, he retrieved his personal scanner (equipped with various systems, including computed tomography) to do another deep scan. “Hm. No trace of explosives. We need to do more research to know for certain what is producing the heat.”

Prior to the start of the meeting, Steve and Bruce both agreed who would be best suited to what task. It was a difficult endeavor, but there were solid reasons behind their choices and it wasn’t up to debate. “We are all infiltrating. The difference is the approach. Oracle, Red Robin, Human Torch, and Spiderman, you will coordinate a digital attack on NOVA’s systems and gain access to their files. The firewalls are nothing like I’ve ever seen before.” In any other situation he would not have placed Johnny in that category, because he had other, valuable strengths, but someone would have to keep an eye on Peter after what happened at the riots. He was the best option. Bruce reluctantly handed the camera to Tony. “Iron Man and Black Panther will focus on deconstructing NOVA’s technology. A device or a suit that will shield the wearer from inhibitors, while avoiding detection, would be invaluable to future missions. Our first order of business is to retrieve the new power inhibitor so we can find out how it works. Bucky, Supergirl, Stinger, Flash, Invisible Woman, and Black Widow will do reconnaissance on NOVA’s labs and various locations and formute a plan of entry. The new inhibitor will likely be guarded. Falcon, Loki, Booster, Batgirl, Wonder Woman, Superman, Superboy, and Robin - you will be on the ground. Remember that part of your job is to discredit NOVA whenever you have the chance.

Record unnecessary force and hand it over to Oracle to distribute. It can’t be traced back to you. Be a powerful presence and be inspiring. There is a reason you are the group most visible to the public.” Of course, Clark would be doing much more with the Gazette, but Bruce was not going to divulge that. “Scarlet Witch, Wiccan, Zatanna, and Nightwing, your job is to locate all of NOVA’s hidden facilities so the reconnaissance team can get to work. Once you’ve done that, you will focus on the facilities that are detaining mutants. We already know there are more. After you assist the reconnaissance team you will go to District X and consult with Cyclops on how to proceed. I have no doubt he will be involved, or already has a plan in place. Offer your assistance." His expression and tone turned somber. "Scarlet Witch and Nightwing can prepare you for when the inhibitors get in your way. We face a real threat of mutants, metahumans, and aliens being stripped of their powers. Everyone needs to understand this and be prepared. Those of you who need to fine tune your hand to hand combat, Scarlet Witch and Nightwing are who to see.” They worked well with each other - and in this situation, that was vital. “I understand many of you are skilled in this area, but consider how much of that skill is reliant on strength and superhuman ability. Ask for help if you need it, or your pride will get someone killed.”

CAPTAIN AMERICA: Steve was watching his meeting, their meeting, start to fall apart. He knew how Tony was, he had anticipated how Loki was, but he didn't know Zatanna well. He didn't actually think she was trying to instigate, but he did think that it might come off that way. But there was nothing to be done about it now. What was said was said. Still... he had been waiting for this for such a long time. More than anything, Steve Rogers had wanted this meeting and he had seen all the potential it could hold. It was why he had barely let Bruce get the offer to work together and reform out of his mouth before he was agreeing. They were going to be amazing. All of them. He just needed them all to understand what they were doing had reason and rhyme for all of them. They were all essential. It was watching Clint of all people embarrass the Avengers, and embarrass Natasha that had Steve crestfallen. His expression reflected the redheaded assassin's utter disappointment as he watched Clint leave, knowing how that looked. He knew there were extenuating circumstances, but he also knew he was going to have to advocate for Clint and for the validity of his presence to Bruce now when Steve knew he was a good man and a great Avenger. He let out a slow breath, but didn't let his shoulders sag, even if he wanted to, but that expression of disappointment began to etch deeper as Tony was who he was and Loki was who he was, and Cassie seemed to get up in arms when no one was discrediting her. There were some who were focused and productive and wanted to be there. Steve could see them, but it was hard not to feel like the gaps between their teams were going to struggle to be bridged into a cohesive unit if they were picking at one another, protesting precautions and getting snippy about what they should be allowed to do, snapping at one another about nothing.

"Come on, guys," he finally said after Tony's second jibe at Loki, which thankfully wasn't followed up by a rebuttal. There was a distinct sigh in his voice as he did it, and he was about to say more when Robin burst in and set down another piece to this ridiculously intricate puzzle. At the very least, it would give them all something to focus on and get them back on track. Something tangible. He gave a gentle nod to Johnny, opening his mouth to say that they had that covered when Zatanna was suddenly speaking but then Diana was bringing it back to trust. The amorphous shifting of tones was hard to keep up with, so he simply waited his turn. Wanda beat him to addressing the concerns about the X-Men and seemingly putting them to sleep, which eliminated one more opposition. He held out a hand to Cassie to stop her. "Not yet, Stinger," he said to her firmly, not because she was a child or because he thought she was incapable or whatever had set her off. It was because they didn't know what that thing was and Zatanna's forcefield was keeping it contained and safe. "You'll get time to look at it when we figure out what the hell it is. Just..." He sighed again, grateful to Bruce for taking over and divvying up the roles they had discussed. It was helpful, he thought, to the people calling for action to know their tangible roles. And it showed that he and Bruce hadn't just been sitting by with nothing to discuss or say. It was their credibility and he hoped it convinced people to trust that he and Bruce did actually know what they were doing. He had led many of these people before and they had followed him. And even if most didn't know Bruce well, so many people knew Batman. He was undeniable. The support of Wonder Woman and Superman held sway too. He just needed them to trust.

So he listened to Bruce lay it all out before nodding. "Wanda can offer something else to those who are training that I think is an invaluable asset. These guy are developing ways to shut off our abilities. And I know that so many of us rely on those abilities. Without them, some of us feel powerless. But not having your abilities doesn't make you useless. Not a single person here is. So I would encourage that you all take advantage of trying to work with Nightwing for brush ups--we all can benefit from keeping in practice--but with Wanda using her powers to cancel yours out. Find where your weaknesses are without your powers and then train those muscles until they ache. She can show you what it will feel like to find yourself in a combat situation without anything but your body to help you. I don't know exactly how NOVA's inhibitors in this second batch are going to work--" though he was really hoping he didn't end up 5'4" with Scarlet Fever again, "--But while Tony and Shuri are working on ways to work around them even in the short term, we only have ourselves to rely on." He met the gaze of every single person in turn, just a brief flicker for some and a lingering look for others. Natasha, for her part, seemed shut off, her face blank. She was listening, he knew, but he worried what was going on behind that impassivity. It was something to be dealt with later. "We're strong even without the things that make us different from the rest of the world. We have special abilities, but we're people first. There are a hundred other mutants, metahumans, aliens, and all the rest in this city. We gathered you because, like Batman said, we all have a part to play. So let's put aside the 'me' and start working toward this goal as a cohesive unit."

SUPERMAN: Bruce, as always, had covered all conceivable fronts. That wasn’t surprising. If he didn’t believe him capable of doing that, Clark wouldn’t have been as insistent that the League needed to reform in the first place (with or without their new addition of Avengers). It had been tempting to get in the middle of the squabbling, which they didn’t have time for, but it ceased well enough on its own. He wasn’t there to play bouncer, but he was certainly willing to do it if necessary. Tony Stark seemed to know everything but how to exercise a modicum if respect, and Loki was much the same. Duly noted. Neither had made a stellar impression on him in their limited time on the floor. One glance at the device Damian had brought in let him know there were no explosives within. It wasn’t lead. He could see through the casing, but Zatanna and the others had leapt at it and saying so seemed futile. Besides, just because he could see into it didn’t mean he knew what he was looking at. “You’ll have me where you need me,” he affirmed once all the roles had been handed out. He’d end up where he wanted to be - a face people saw as familiar, someone they could count on, someone who could help. He still had so much lost ground to make up for.

BLACK WIDOW: Natasha was still so utterly embarrassed that she had to actually use her Red Room training not to belie how she was feeling. That slip in her expression, in front of many strangers had not been acceptable, and she had immediately compartmentalized it and put it away, her face completely impassive. James would know what she was doing, but the blood in her ears told her it wasn't working as well as it usually did. Clint was off, and his memories were gone... but she'd never remembered him being such a Мудак. Asshole. When he had saved her from the Red Room, they hadn't been so old. And he had been patient, gentle and good even when he had nothing contribute. When he didn't know what to say. He belonged on this team. He belonged fighting alongside them. And she had apparently been too optimistic to think that the very essence of being a good man would still be there under it all. It wasn't often that Natasha Romanoff miscalculated and she clamped down even harder to compensate. Her face was so blank that it might be unsettling, honestly, and her muscles were tense as she nodded with her assignment. The heat of James' hand registered thereafter and, if he were looking at her, he would see the barest twitch of the corner of her eye. As if she had been slapped or as if, were she anyone but Natasha, her eyes might be pooled with angry and embarrassed tears. "Understood," she replied, voice level and even in response to her assignment. She very nearly left it at that. But her green eyes flicked to Batman, and someone who knew the power of the barest shift in expression, she tensed her jaw visibly before adding, "Barton is compromised." She couldn't just say nothing, not with the look on Steve's face. But she wouldn't apologize or make excuses. "It will be dealt with." Her tone was direct, to the point. "It was my mistake."

ROBIN: Damian had remained seated in a scowling silence ever since arriving, letting everyone jump over the device he had brought forward. He shot a sharp glare in Zatanna's direction at her snide remark and curled his fists beneath his folded arms. “Better than a two-bit stage magician.” He remarked sharply, but was drawn from his thoughts as Bruce spoke up regarding the device. “Of course I checked it for tracking equipment and explosives. I'm not an amateur, Father...” He retorted with a frown. “The building was older...but Kite-Man seemed to think it was one of NOVA's headquarters for some reason when he explained what he was doing. It didn't really seem like somewhere a government agency would hideout though.”

As Bruce divided everyone onto their assigned teams, the teen couldn't help but crack a small smirk. “Patrol and street work? Good thing I'm always doing that anyway, isn't it?” He stated with a humph. He turned his attention momentarily to the woman 'Black Widow' and regarded her posture and stance. As a former assassin himself, he could discern the minute details in her demeanor. She was lethal, that much he could ascertain. He just wasn't sure how, or what connection she had to the man that had left their meeting. This meeting didn't seem like it had been going the greatest before he arrived.

Damian didn't know what to make of the circus show they had assembled. There was the usual crowd – Clark, Diana, Barry...his family, Zatanna and Michael. People he was familiar with. It was the other group of people he wasn't certain what to make of. This 'Captain America' seemed trustworthy enough, but the Scarlet Witch and Loki were questionable. His brow furrowed slightly at the sight of Peter Parker, having kept up with the riots extensively since they happened. Tony Stark had so much arrogance to him it was nauseating and he was glad that he wasn't going to have to be working with him or this 'Black Panther' on anything. He was equally glad though he hadn't been placed with Oracle and Tim. He was skilled with tech, but it was true he was better used on the streets. As for the others? He really didn't know what to make of them.

“The teams sound pretty solid, Father. Oracle can make sure everyone stays competent on her team...I'm sure the tech team is capable enough as well. Anything we can use against NOVA will be vital.. weapons especially, preferably throwable.” He eyed Tony before looking back at Bruce and settling back into the seat.

ZATANNA: Zatanna made an apologetic gesture in Wanda's direction. She would've sent up a flare that said, "I'm Sorry!" but she'd already been accused of being irreverent once, and it probably wouldn't help. This whole thing was just so not her bag. She didn't do tech, she didn't do groups, and she didn't do this many big personalities in one room. The truth was, she was tense. What if they all fucked up? What if she fucked up? She'd never been the weak link before. And she had all this ... she'd been angry for so long. Angry at Clark, angry at NOVA, angry at every government that had asked for her help and then turned around and claimed her very existence was a crime. It was a lot to process, so she just hadn't. She'd gone to Tokyo, toured Europe, returned to America in a shower of praise and demands for her performance, and parked herself in Star City to do - something, anything - but without a plan about exactly what that was. And now here they were, and she'd been so sure that SOMEONE would have a plan. Okay, more specifically, she'd been sure that Bruce would have a plan, and Clark would say yes and do it perfectly, Diana would have notes about the battle strategies, Barry would either babble or do something shocking and effective, and the others would all add their bits in and it would all just ... flow. But there were so many of them here, people she didn't know. And she'd spent so long away from these people. So here she was, being an asshole. Fuck. This was all Bruce's fault. If he hadn't looked at her like that, she wouldn't have gotten all introspective. "Never expected to, Wayne. I'm just the magical consultant."

Maybe she was a little harsh on Damian, but no one in this room seemed to appreciate the ways that magic could ruin their plans. and NOVA probably didn't use magic. Probably. Hopefully. "Laever ruoy sterces dna hsinab lla slleps nopu uoy!" Zatanna gathered glowing light within the forcefield before her spell was done. "I'm trying to be good, see? You know I'm shit at this stuff."

WICCAN: His concern about communication with the mutants was mostly quelled, and there wasn’t much he could do about it either way. With the way the teams were split up, he would have some say in it at least. Batman had said part of what they were doing was collaborating. Maybe it was naive of him to think that his presence and Wanda’s presence would be enough to ease his grandfather’s reaction (should there be one), but he hoped it was true. Either way, he said nothing more of it and only nodded his agreement with the assignment. He glanced sideways at his mother long enough to whisper, “Go team,” with a little spark of red, like a burst of tiny fireworks, from his fingertips.

ORACLE: In truth, Barbara tended to prefer working in smaller groups, especially when it came to strong personalities, but the need couldn't be ignored here. At the end of the day, everyone in this room wanted the same thing, and needed each other to achieve that. It's that thought that keeps her from responding harshly, "Theoretically, Stark. Nothing I say is going to happen without plenty of testing." she starts nodding slowly as she takes in his full idea and, quite suddenly, pulls her laptop out of her bag and sets it on her lap, beginning to compile research. It's her laptop that also hides a small smile at the outburst from the clearly younger hero. She had to resist calling out a wry been there, done that. She looks at Stark again over her glasses, about to say she was already on it, when Damian came in with a burst. She doesn't waste a moment, wheeling closer with the open laptop on her lap, "Nice, Robin," she smirks as she peers at the camera, eyes following it as it went. She shoots a look at Z, as well as at Steph, but her mind is working far too quickly about the camera. She manages to perk up, smile, and nod when she's mentioned. She'll take the help gladly, and she even makes a note to ask Steph if she wants to help more, later. She's also intrigued by the shrinking she saw, and her mind trailed off to the best resources to research Pym Particles. However, Bruce speaking caught her attention with a minute smile, satisfied that he brought the order they very clearly needed as a group. As he finished and others chimed in, she resolutely pressed a key that sent her contact to everyone.

"You should all have just recieved my secure contact. Some of you know Oracle, but for those that don't? Use me as a resource. I have eyes all over this city. If you're in a sticky situation and need an escape, I'll get you out. If you're outnumbered, I'll send backup. If you think there's even a remote possibility your tech may be compromised, better to be safe than sorry.  I'm your eyes and ears when you need to see and hear further than you physically can. Don't be cocky out there, use your resources." she pauses only long enough to sweep her eyes around, "You'll all get a device to communicate securely with the whole team within 48 hours. In the mean time, I'll route any contact needed. And finally-- like Batman said, don't underestimate the value of videos at the moment. We can do a lot of damage to their relationship with society before we ever touch them, if we're smart about it, so let's be smart."

LOKI: He hadn't really been trying to instigate anything, though that was naturally the way he tended to communicate in order to get any sort of recognition. Annoyance was better than being ignored when he was right. Loki had grown up on Asgard, always right but never loud enough about it, always trying to help but disregarded as Odin's second son and the one that would never chosen for king in spite of his rampant qualification and dedication to emulating the Allfather to the best of his ability. He had learned very quickly that the councilor in him got him next to nowhere. But the spirit of what he had said, in spite of its antagonism, was that that girl was young, small, and unsafe at NOVA, which no one would know better than he did considering he spent every day there watching the kinds of things that could be done to her. Hand to hand was precisely what needed to be worked on. Combat training. But his point, it seemed, was lost the moment that Stark elected start speaking again. "My concern matches yours." He shot back. "How dare I question the survivability of a Midgardian woman I don't know well? If you were listening, Stark, which I suspect not considering the only sound you seem to enjoy is your own voice--" Something he didn't fault Tony for, as the same could be said for Loki himself, "--I was within the realm of agreeing. But, once again, I lack the understanding as to why you would put in a second insider when you yourself just brought up the risks to this girl's person without your 'faraday cage'." How should he know what the whelp was capable of? He saw a girl with powers. Take them away, what did she have? He didn't know, which was why he had asked.

The boy's entrance distracted him and he looked down at the device. He had seen similar parts at NOVA, but he didn't know precisely what this device did. He had only been there six months so his clearance level wasn't quite high enough. Still, when it was announced that it gave of a significant amount of heat, Loki blanched, mind jumping over to his last poignant memories of heat. "How much heat...?" he asked the one who had assessed it. Loki could and did still function under and after heat torture, but it put everything under duress for him. Needless to say, it made him a little uneasy. Thankfully, the doll that landed in front of him was enough to distract him, though not without him smirking at Zatanna's use of magic. He hadn't needed incants since he was a child. Still, he shook his head; it was powerful enough, he thought. His attention turned to the doll and, with a wave of his hand, he had it looking like Stark and he very nearly considered blowing it up, but he was capable of acting like an adult, unlike the newly departed Barton, who hadn't been half so... spirited when Loki had worked with him eight years ago. Maybe he'd changed. What was interesting was the female spider's response. He remembered taunting her back then about love. He'd thought it was 'for children', according to her. Perhaps not. Ultimately, he elected to quiet himself. He had his job. He made his contributions and he'd solidify himself as invaluable the longer he risked himself to bring the right information forward. He would just have to wait until then to prove himself. He did hope the Scarlet Witch was right and the meeting would come to a close soon. As enthusiastic as some seemed to be, it was going to start to drag on. To Zatanna, he spoke mentally again: Exceedingly testy bunch, this group. Is it not?

IRON MAN: Holy hell, was he still talking? Tony was too transfixed on the device in his hands to pay any service to hot air and useless arguments. "Don't care," he said dismissively, giving a wave of two fingers. He did stop his inspection enough to check his phone and save Oracle as a quick dial. "Catchy name."

NIGHTWING: "Get it together," Dick snapped, and even though he wasn't directing the words at anyone specific, it was obvious which people he was addressing. "This is a team and we have to work like one, or this is just going to fall apart. You've all worked on teams before, this shouldn't be news to you." It angered him to hear heartfelt speeches from both Clark and Steve, men he admired, and then see them be met with disrespect. He knew how difficult it was to lead a team and how little appreciation was given for doing it. "We're on it," he said to Bruce, unable to help a grin at Billy's fireworks even though he only saw them out of the corner of his eye. "I'll probably be asking you to do that again later. We're in dire need of some positivity around here.”

FLASH: Finally there was some plans being set into motion. Barry listened quietly as the talk about the camera and teams went on and on. Once things started to be ironed out, he grinned to himself and was on his feet - zipping to and fro between different people and leaning on their shoulders as he spoke a little and was gone again to someone else. "I think these teams are great. It's just nice to finally have a group to rely on again - and it'll be nice to have Oracle in our ears once more. It's been kind of lonely out there." He grinned. He zipped to Damian for a quick hair-ruffle and 'Good job kid' before he was back in his seat and straightening himself. "Sorry, I'm good now. You know me, sitting too long gets me pent up." He remarked with a sheepish grin on his face. It was obvious where Wally got a lot of his quirks from when you looked at Barry's antics sometimes.

HUMAN TORCH: Johnny offered no more verbal feedback. He had absolutely no place on the team he’d been put on. What the hell was he going to be able to do to help with the tech side of anything? He sat back in his seat and ran his hand along his jaw, casting a brief, defeated look at his sister. Maybe the Avengers had been a mistake. If Reed and Ben were there...maybe it’d be different.

BATGIRL: Okay, so maybe being put on ground patrol made sense, especially because Steph had every version of social media that existed. She already had a few ideas of how to shame NOVA and start a flame campaign against them. She knew how those things worked. Still, it stung a little that she wasn't asked to help train anyone in martial arts when that was literally what she did for a living. There was no denying that Dick was more skilled, but it would have been nice if Bruce asked her to help out too. But she didn't say anything about it. Even now, she wasn't sure if Bruce fully respected her - and it was something she still, years later, desperately wanted. But it meant something that she was here. There was a reason he asked her to be part of this new Justice Avenging team, or whatever it was, and she was determined to prove that she could be trusted and relied upon. "Anything else we need to cover? Because I can't stop thinking about those doughnuts someone left on the table. And I call dibs on the one with the rainbow sprinkles."

SCARLET WITCH: Wanda hadn't even considered that they might want her to use her powers that way. She could fight, but even that training had come from Steve. Surely there were better martial fighters. But when Steve spoke, it clicked. Because Wanda could do that. And she knew what it was like to train without the use of her powers because Steve had taught her to do just that when she had first joined the Avengers. It had been invaluable. She nodded to Steve, her own power running over her palms before she looked at her son with a gentle smile before catching Kara looking at her and returning that smile as well. Her expression remained for a moment longer before she turned to look at Bruce once more, the barest hint of gratitude showing on her face. She was an Avenger because she'd always been an Avenger, but many of the other people in this room didn't know her and wouldn't understand the complexity of her history. They'd see her as a liability. And they might be right, but she worked constantly to overcome that. And she knew that Steve already trusted her. But for some reason, Bruce had extended it to her enough to care about her in spite of what she had done. She knew Bruce Wayne well enough to know that trust didn't come easily to him. Wanda cared about him deeply, but more than that... he could see past the things she'd done to not only care about her as a woman, but still as a hero as well. He trusted her enough to put her with his son to help on a tangible level which embraced her powers rather than fearing them. She was so sick of being feared or feeling used. It mattered to her. She could feel Bruce's youngest son's eyes on her, and she turned to meet them, unabashed in doing so. She didn't know that she trusted that child, but she didn't question his presence if Bruce was here. Still, she didn't like the look behind his eyes even if his face was mostly impassive, so she found herself looking away. "I'll be happy to help anyone who needs me," she agreed with Steve.

BOOSTER GOLD: Michael was ecstatic. He was put onto a team with both Wonder Woman and Superman - how much better could it get? (Well, adding Bats would have been that little cherry on top, but two out of three wasn't bad.) He shot Clark a few finger guns, already thinking about all the PR he'd get from being out on the streets; all that air time, not to mention Goldstar and his good looks, could be a valuable platform to help discredit NOVA. All he needed was Skeets to help hash out the details. If all else failed, people liked money? (And disappoint Superman? Okay, maybe not bribery.)

SPIDERMAN: It really surprised Peter to hear that they were sticking Johnny with him and the rest of the computer geeks. As much as he enjoyed spending practically all of his time with him, he knew that Johnny was better suited out in the city. He had a face everyone recognized and loved, so sticking him with patrol seemed to be the only logical choice; he wouldn't question it now, though, not when there had been so much negativity in the group to begin with. He'd rather not add more wood to the fire. Still, Peter was glad he was able to help where he could, even if it meant he was still stuck inside.

SUPERGIRL: The only person Kara knew on her team was Barry, because of their previous work with the Justice League, and she wondered what her new teammates would be like and what the breadth of their skills were. What she knew was limited, although Invisible Woman was pretty self explanatory, and Stinger already made it clear what she was capable of. It was exciting and a little intimidating to work with others she never even met before. She gave a little wave at Bucky and Black Widow since they were across from her, then smiled at Cassie and Susan at the other end of the table. She could introduce herself later.

INVISIBLE WOMAN: Susan felt for Johnny - she really did, and while there had to be a good reason as to why they'd stick him on that team, she wasn't going to dwell on it. Instead, she offered him a sympathetic look of her own before her eyes caught the wave that Supergirl threw in James and Natasha's direction. She returned the smile given, grateful that their group seemed to be made of capable, level-headed people (hopefully, none of them made her regret that assessment); there was a nervousness there, if only because it had been too long since she'd been a part of anything like this, but the excitement to be working with a team again seemed to trump that.

SUPERBOY: Despite the fact that the reason why they would be working was worrying, he was actually pretty excited about it. It would be his first mision as an adult, and would be nice to finally be taken seriously, differently from how things were before and how he was seen just as a kid. He was one, but he was not useless. "I don't think so? I think that was all," he nodded, "I definitely agree with you, I could use some of those donuts right now," he told Steph, he couldn't think about anything else, they already thought about everything, but since he was not used to it all, he could be missing something. Which he doubted he was, despite his lack of experience, everyone seemed to be ready to leave already. 

CAPTAIN AMERICA: With everything assigned and everyone seemingly amenable to their roles--no one had really protested, though Steve did regret one or two placements but understood their necessity--it seemed as if the meeting had ultimately been a success. There were ultimately people that he wanted to talk more with, and some people for whom he wanted contingencies put into place. But, for the most part, this was an active plan with active positions and jobs for everyone. He was going to be busy, finally, doing what he was meant to be doing alongside someone who was absolutely brilliant at what he did. Steve had only collaborated with Bruce a few times so far, but it seemed to fit. He trusted Bruce's tactical skills, and Bruce seemed to trust him enough to take what he said into consideration. And as a result, they were finally going to accomplish what they should have done years ago. Of everyone in this room, all of them but two had been opposed to the ban. Tony had been... complicated, but he was here now and Steve knew where his allegiances lie. He didn't know Clark well, but he knew that Superman had been in support. It had been mindboggling to him, but maybe one day he would ask about it. It didn't matter now, though. What did matter was that they were all here, joined for this one purpose. There was still work to be done. That much was clear from the way Natasha spoke. Steve looked to Bucky, but there was nothing to be done about it in the middle of this room. He'd talk to him about it later. But for now, it seemed like a good time to close it up.

Getting to his feet, Steve took in the shield on the table a genuine smile pulled at his lips. "I think we all know what we have to do. Batman and I will keep up with all the teams and make sure that information gets disseminated where it needs to go as we receive it. Feel free to reach out with suggestions, new developments, anything. But I just want to thank you all for trusting. We're taking back this city. Every last one of us. And when it comes time, all the work we're doing now is going to pay off." He looked around at the group before giving a final, firm nod. "So let's get to it."

#starcevent #starcplotdrop #starcadmin #dc rp #marvel rp

[frostironstrange]

I just want Loki to kick an entire army’s ass and everyone be surprised except Tony and Stephen. Like even Thor is like “oh shit”, ya know? And don’t worry I will sail this ship with you every second of the hour

So uh, this isn’t what you asked for but this is where the prompt took me and it still kinda fits? More h/c then badass. Anyways, here’s Avengers Academy Loki + frostironstrange beginnings. 

They really should’ve listened to Loki. Honestly that could’ve been applied to a lot of things that went wrong around the Avengers Academy, but this was a situation of extra-should’ve-listened-to-Loki. At least if you asked Loki, that is, and currently, he was the only person you could ask about the situation since he was the only one who didn’t have a power sucking-collar and chains on him. Well, okay, you could technically ask the man who was now gloating in front of his giant dining room table, whose actual name was Lukas Klerken, but whom had just declared himself to be ‘the demon of cunning, seduction and new lord of earth’ with no tact at all. Even his outfit was a gaudy yellow and ugly blue. You shouldn’t ask that asshole anything in Loki’s opinion, since he was a liar who too many people trusted. Loki tried not to think about that one too hard.

To put a long story short, Lukas had come to the Academy against his own will. Fury had caught him in some evil scheme to destroy the world, but he had only been a minor player in it so he’d been given a second chance. Loki and Lukas had actually gotten along at first, at least as well as Loki got along with anyone, but something about Lukas had felt off to Loki. Just wrong enough for him to keep his distance. It seemed that Loki had been the only one that felt that way though, the rest of the Academy loved him. It was as if Lukas had made it his life’s goal to be friends with everyone, even more so than Jan, and with everyone but Loki he’d succeeded. Even Fury and Widow had decided that they liked Lukas.

Even Odin had decided he liked Lukas. In the same breath that he condemned Loki’s trickery he’d praise Lukas’ humorous pranks. Hearing Odin praise Lukas with a ‘your father must be very proud of you’ behind closed doors hurt more deeply than Loki would like to admit.

Putting that aside though, everyone but Loki liked Lukas. Not that Lukas hadn’t tried very hard to get Loki to like him, he had. He had put in a lot of effort into trying to invite Loki places or include him in things. He’d taken to referring to Loki as a prince and being flirty in all the right ways that would normally have Loki head over heels for someone. It was more effort then Lukas had put towards getting anyone else to like him, and if Loki had not been already suspicious it would’ve worked. As it was though, Loki just grew more and more wary until he’d finally discovered what Lukas was up to. It was simple really, invite everyone to a formal dinner party knowing that nobody would refuse or mistrust him. Mess with the food and get everyone drugged out of their minds. Loki would have laughed at how simple the idea was if it hadn’t worked.

Of course, Loki had figured this out days in advance and gone straight to Fury. Usually he’d attempt to resolve things himself but he knew any attempt against Lukas would have the whole school pinning the blame on him. Unfortunately, Fury rolled his eyes and told him to work out his jealousy issues elsewhere no matter how hard Loki tried to convince him. Pepper wouldn’t believe him either. He brought the matter up with his father, but of course all that got him was a threat of punishment for lying. All that was to be expected, what he hadn’t been expecting was none of the people he called friends to believe him either. Jan had brushed him off, Widow had rolled her eyes and dared to call him paranoid, Steve had gone on about second chances, the list went on and on. Tony, who Loki had thought he’d grown quite close to, had almost believed Loki, but then Jan had entered and told Loki off for spreading rumors. Stephen Strange, another student who while also somewhat of Loki’s rival but who Loki was on good terms with had brushed him off. He had said there was nothing Lukas could do to the whole Academy. Loki had even begged his brother not to go to the party, his brother who Loki had almost died for more than once. Thor had laughed at Loki and also called him jealous.

It had hurt even more than his father’s rejection. Loki was well aware his father didn’t care for him or trust him, but he had thought things were different with his friends. He had thought that at least one of them would trust him enough to skip the party or at least not eat the food. But no. It was a story Loki was too used to but for some reason he thought it would be different this time. Thought someone would trust him. Stupid Loki, not learning his lesson the first thousand times.

So everyone had gone, and everyone had eaten and now everyone was just another fuel cell for Lukas who was currently blabbering on about his plans or something equally unimportant. Everyone but Loki, who had politely refused for a quiet night in with his book. Lukas had seemed disappointed, but hadn’t pressed the issue at all. Honestly he was surprised Lukas hadn’t gone looking for him, maybe he thought Loki would be just fine with what was happening or maybe he didn’t see Loki as a threat.

All of that led Loki to now. He was currently hiding on the other side of the room from Lukas and he’d been slowly making his way over to the wall where Lukas’ captive audience was slowly starting to wake up again. Luckily, Bruce was very close to the edge of the group. All Loki would need to do was free him and purge the drugs from his system, then he could work on freeing the others while the Hulk kept Lukas busy. Or that was the plan until Loki actually got over to where Bruce was. It took five seconds of pushing at the power sucking collar to know there was no way he was getting it or the cuffs off Bruce without risking killing him. He was going to need to shut down the machine on Lukas’ back and get the keys off Lukas’ belt. Still, he had the element of surprise for right now, and that was going to be his only advantage in this fight. Slowly Loki began to make his way across the room, silently. If he could just get behind Lukas…

But then Loki’s luck ran out and his foot slipped on a unstable bit of cracked rock. The noise created was near silent. It was enough though, and Lukas’ head swiveled directly towards where Loki was standing, invisible. Everyone who was awake in the room followed his gaze too. Lukas’ face twisted into a smile.

“So you finally decided to come out to play, my dear?”

No point in being invisible now, Loki brushed himself off and dropped the spell, doing his best to look uninterested at everything around him. He looked Lukas straight in the eye and gave a cocky reply.

“Well I thought I’d swing by after all and see what all the fuss was about, but it looks like I missed the main event. What a shame.”

Lukas seemed amused at least enough to not attack him right away. Instead he just stepped forward towards Loki and gave a gesture towards where everyone else lay bound. “Oh don’t worry my dear, I didn’t have anything like this planned for you. You’re not like the rest of them after all. You’re special, a lovely little thing that others are so blind to.” Another step forward. Loki stood his ground.

“My apologies, Lukas, but you really can’t expect me to fall for that, can you? I’m the god of lies, you can’t fool me that easily.”

To Loki’s surprise, Lukas seemed… upset by his comment. Loki’s eyes narrowed at the unexpected reaction.

“My dear, I’m afraid you’re mistaken!” Another step forward. “I’ve told you no lies, I love you far too much for that. I didn’t even lie to you about the nature of this dinner! Not that you wouldn’t have found out on your own, you’re so clever my dear, but I made sure you knew. I couldn’t stand to lie to you, never you my dear.” Another step, Lukas looked almost pleading. “I do not want to rule this world alone, though for so long I thought I would have to. I thought I would never meet my match. Then I met you and I knew we were destined to be together.”

Another step, Lukas was getting close now. Loki could feel himself almost shaking with the realization that this wasn’t a trick. That Lukas meant everything he was saying. “It’s okay my dear. You don’t need to be afraid of me. I will never lie to you, unlike everyone else here. How many times have they told you that they were your friends? That they were your allies or teachers or caretakers? Only to have them turn on you with at the drop of a hat.”

Lukas paused, sorrow in his eyes. He was almost touching Loki now and Loki couldn’t help but take a step back.

“My dear, I know you don’t want it to be true but you know I’m the one who really cares about you. Just look at what happened when you tried so bravely to warn them of tonight. Not even your own father, brother or any of your so called friends believed you, did they?”

For all that Loki was called a silvertongue, his words could not help him here. His eyes fell instead, unable to look at the pity that painted Lukas’ face. Anyone could see Loki was shaking now, pretending that he wasn’t on the edge of tears.

“I’m sorry dear. I didn’t want to upset you. It will all be just fine, don’t worry. They can’t hurt you anymore. Now you see how bad they are for you, you can come with me. You’ll rule by my side, as my equal. I’ll take care of you. I’ll keep you safe from them.”

For a moment, Loki considered it. Well and truly. He looked up into Lukas’ eyes and knew that he was telling the truth. There was no trick or plot here. With the amount of power currently coursing through Lukas’ veins there was no need for one. For just one moment, Loki allowed himself to see a future beside Lukas, of being adored and loved for the rest of his life. Lukas was holding out his hand now, offering it, so kindly waiting for Loki.

But Loki knew better then that. As tempting as it was, Loki knew he could never take his hand. Most of it was that he had long ago resigned himself to his fate, of being called a liar, of saving others again and again and getting nothing but criticism, of mistrust and hatred. It was familiar now, he could live with it. A much smaller part of himself, the part that gave him the courage for what came next, whispered that he would miss talking to Tony. Miss spending hours debating Stephen on the proper method of medium sized object transportation. Miss watching Tony bounce up and down when he got excited. Miss the early mornings hours he and Stephen would spend in silence reading together.  

Loki glanced down at Lukas’ hand. Taking a deep breath, he moved quick as a flash and pulled his knife from it’s holster. Lukas wasn’t expecting the action, and Loki had just enough time to slice one of the three tubes off the top of the machine that Lukas was wearing on his back before shoving Lukas as hard as he could. Which, considering Loki’s strength, was pretty damn hard and sent Lukas into the wall on the other side of the room. He snarled as he moved, because he knew how much power Lukas had right now and he knew these might be his last words.

“I don’t need anyone to take care of me.”

Lukas slowly staggered back to his feet, looking at his shirt now stained with goop pouring from his machine. Down to his now bloody hands. Then back at Loki. His face twisted from shock to an ugly rage. Apparently cutting the machine hadn’t disabled it entirely, only lessened the power adsorption, because the next thing Loki knew he was getting thrown across the room himself. He could feel at least two bones break in the next second as Lukas smashed him around and distantly he could hear someone shouting his name. His focus was more on Lukas though, as the other was now holding him up by the hem of his shirt.

“You DARE-. I am the only one who has ever trusted you.” Loki felt himself slammed against the wall. His head was probably bleeding now. “I am the ONLY one who has ever cared for you.” Lukas had taken his knife from him somehow and now it was buried in Loki’s arm. “I am the ONLY one who has ever loved you!” Another slam against the wall, more brutal than before. Loki concentrated through the pain though, pulling at all of his magic, all of his strength and condensing it into a single blow. Lukas had paused in his assault, clearly waiting for Loki to grovel in apology.

Loki did no such thing. Instead he forced his eyes open and felt the power thrumming throughout his whole body come together.

“Not my fault you made such a shitty choice.” He said it with a grin forced to his face, because nobody was better then laughing when they felt like crying than Loki. And with that, he pulled his magic to him and let it loose. It was the first time he could recall in his life having used all of his power and it was not a time that would be easily forgotten.

Lukas, despite having power from some of the universe’s most powerful beings, stood no chance. Loki’s power blast blew him off of Loki and across the room. It shattered the machine on his back and damn near killed Lukas. The very foundation of the room cracked where he had landed, as did the earth below it. The entire room had fallen silent. Nobody, not Thor, not Odin and certainly not any of the other students had ever seen such a power display from Loki, far more used to silly pranks or small bursts of power while fighting. The collars had all deactivated with the breaking of the machine, but nobody even thought to move, instead focused on where Loki was still leaning against the wall.

One breath in. One breath out. Loki blinked, feeling empty and rung out from the use of his magic. All of the anger that had been burning in him before had fled him and now all he had left to feel was empty and hurt. Still, his job wasn’t done. Loki pushed himself away from the wall, stumbling forward and ignoring the pain from the broken bone in his left leg and right arm. It was hard, but he pressed onward and managed to straighten out his step by the time he reached Lukas. Thankful the keys were easy to reach, and there was only a single set for all prisoners. Loki then turned to look at the captives, all of them were still shell-shocked (or heavily drugged still). Glancing over his options of those that seemed most alert, Loki was thankful to see Steve was awake and seemed semi-responsive. Also close by. It only took a minute for Loki to free him and drop the keys in his hands. Steve reacted just in time to catch them and regard Loki with wide eyes. In all honesty Loki didn’t have the energy to care.

“Can you take care of getting everyone freed?”

After taking a moment to process the question, Steve quickly nodded. His face settled into his “Captain America” mode and Loki had no doubt that he would be fine to free the others on his own. Lukas was down for the count, that much was for sure. Loki gave him a nod back and pushed himself to his feet before Steve (or anyone else) could protest.

“Great. If anyone needs me, tell them to fuck off because I’m going to go sleep for a week.”

And with that, before anyone could stop him (and moving surprisingly quickly against the pain of broken bones) Loki picked his way across the room and out of the dining hall. Once he was out of the hall, he half heartedly pulled the knife out of his arm. Huh. He probably bleed on Steve a bit. Oh well, he’d apologize later. It was only a minute or two after that before he was in his dorm. After ensuring his defenses were up and his room locked, Loki collapsed down onto his bed. He was covered in pain and blood head to toe, but he couldn’t care less.

Only then did Loki allow himself to cry. His tears were silent least the bugs he knew were just outside his dorm (because why would he be allowed any privacy) pick up his moment of weakness. Sobs shook his shoulders, hurting his ribs which were at the very least bruised, but he couldn’t stop. Luckily, he was too tired to cry for long and he was too tired for his normal nightmares so as he drifted off he did so into a dreamless sleep.

He awoke fifteen hours later. Bleary eyed, he tried to sit up and figure out why he felt so achy before both his current condition and the memories of the night before hit him like a car on the highway. It took a lot for him not to scream out in agony at the sudden pain the movement brought. Deep breaths. After calming himself, Loki reached for his magic. It was still weakened from the use the night before, but the rest had done him well and it was partially restored. At the very least he had enough magic to clean himself up, set his bones and close all his battle wounds. He didn’t have enough magic to relieve the pain or completely heal himself, but he could take care of that later. For now, he needed to eat to restore himself. Then go back to sleep. With how comfortable his bed was though, he was tempted to rearrange that order.

Loki allowed himself just a moment of laying in bed before he sighed and pushed himself to his feet. It hurt, but by now he had adapted to the pain accompanying every movement. He wouldn’t need to go far anyways, there was a stocked refrigerator down the hallway after all. It was mostly for those that hated going to the more crowded public spaces, but open for anyone to take from. If Loki had been of his right mind, he would’ve bothered to check the space outside his dorm before pushing his door open, but as it stood he was too tired to think of it. Why would anyone be there after all? They’d all proven yesterday where their loyalties lay.

That was really the only excuse he had for why when he opened the door to find the normally empty hallway holding what could only be described as a slumber parties worth of people, he froze up. Tony, he could have maybe, sort of expected. Jan was often found where Tony was, and Steve could be explained since he always felt responsible for others and Loki had left him in charge of the situation. Thor was known for sitting outside his brother’s dorm room for ages when Loki was avoiding him. Everyone else though… There was probably twenty people out in the hallway, all other students. He was able to easily pick out Stephen, Widow, Barton, Ms. Marvel, Amora, Sam, Vision, the Winter Soldier and Bruce, with plenty more students at the edge of his sight. All of them had clearly been waiting awhile, since they had been busying themselves with other things like books, tech, conversation or sleeping. It all froze when he opened his door though. For several heart beats, nobody made a move. Then Thor tried to push himself to his feet and Loki couldn’t help himself. He panicked, too hurt and vulnerable to deal with the sad look in his brother’s eyes. Unable to deal with more shame and disappointment. So he jumped backwards and slammed the door. Quickly locking it on instinct alone.

At least he wasn’t hungry anymore.

Loki paused for a moment, and tried to convince himself to go deal with the situation outside his door. He couldn’t though. Too tired, the use of his magic to heal himself overtaking him and instead he just fell back onto his bed and passed out.

It took twelve hours for him to wake up this time, and it was late into the night when he did. His magic had resurged, but not as much as he would’ve liked. Not eating was not going to be an option for much longer. Loki looked at the door and wondered if he had enough in him to teleport to the fridge and back. Probably not. This time he was much more cautious about approaching the door, activating his peephole spell to see out. There were only two forms outside the door now. The energy signatures very familiar to him by now. Tony, and more surprisingly, Stephen. With a pause, Loki considered his options. On one hand, he wasn’t sure if he had the emotional energy to deal with the two of them right now. On the other, he was starting to really feel hungry and he was pretty sure the two of them would leave if he asked them to.

In the end, hunger won out and Loki carefully opened the door. His two crushes looked up at him as he did so, and he almost fled again. It was only Tony’s quick words that stopped him.

“Please don’t go! I promise we’ll leave if you want.”

And who was Loki to resist a plea like that. He slunk out of his room with his back against the door (though honestly that was more to take the weight off his broken leg then anything), eyeing the two of them warily. Stephen looked him up and down, clearly searching for visible injuries and looking suspicious when he found none. Loki said nothing, not really sure what to say. It was Tony that spoke up first, far more quiet then his normal excitable tone.

“We thought you might be hungry.” A plate of food was offered to him. All Indian, Loki’s favorite. A peace offering. Loki accepted the plate, but still said nothing, though this time more out of shock than anything else. Tony took that as an Okay to keep talking.

“I’m sorry I didn’t believe you about Lukas. Everyone else is too, for obvious reasons. But I’m- well extra sorry sounds really dumb now that I try to say it out loud. Really sorry? Very sorry? Okay, getting off topic here. The point is, I fucked up big time. I trusted some guy I’d known less then a month over you, and you’ve never lied to any of us about something important like that before. The very least I could’ve done was not go to that dumb party. Even if you were had just been jealous of Lukas, you were upset and you are my friend and I’m supposed to be there for you. I’m really, really sorry Loki. You’ve been really trying your best and we’ve all been ignoring all the progress you’ve made. You don’t have to forgive me, or any of us really, but I wanted you to know that I’m- that all of us are sorry.”

It took a minute for Loki to figure out how to talk again. It was rare enough that he was apologized to, let alone so sincerely. He had been expecting people to be upset with him for not stopping Lukas in the first place, or for doing damage to the Academy or for not staying around until everyone was freed. He hadn’t been expecting this. Still, he managed to gather himself enough to speak, and for once in his life he tried to not hide behind sarcastic quips and rude comments.

“I- I’ll admit I wasn’t expecting that. It’s okay, you had reason to not listen to me. Jan told you too go after all and you’ve known her a lot longer. I should’ve gathered more evidence to make people listen to me. Or stopped Lukas from drugging the food in the first place. Or stopped him before he could collar people. Though to be fair, I didn’t know that was his end goal, I just knew about the sleeping drug. I was just being an asshole and wanted to be proved right so I waited until I knew he’d done something to act and I waited way too long to do anything.”

Loki was stumbling over his words now, this sort of open honesty unfamiliar to him. He was mostly focusing on trying not to get too emotional. God knows how upset his father would be with him if he found out he’d cried in front of other students. In fact he was so caught up in himself that he completely missed the absolutely horrified expressions from Stephen and Tony. It was Stephen that spoke this time, snapping him out of it.

“Loki… no. You are not at fault for what happened. It’s not your fault that we were all assholes who didn’t listen to our friend, and nobody is blaming you for anything. I wouldn’t blame you if you hadn’t gone up against him at all with how all of us acted, but you did anyways and you saved the entire academy.”

There was already a protest forming on Loki’s lips, but it seems Tony caught it before he could say anything.

“Listen, hey it’s okay. We don’t need to argue about this right now. Why don’t we get you back in your room so you can eat and rest a bit more, okay?”

The sudden change in conversation was a bit off putting, but then Loki noticed his own breathing was heavily labored. Oh. His ribs might be more then bruised if that was all it took to wind him. Stephen caught on to what Tony had seen too and his eyes narrowed. Before Loki could protest, he was being swept into his room by the other sorcerer who forced him straight into his bed. Then he was getting poked at and he could hear Tony and Stephen talking even though it seemed quite far away, before he felt Stephen’s magic flood over him and the rest of his injuries healed themselves. The relief from pain made Loki want to cry all over again. It had been such a long time since he had been healed by anything other then his own magic. Tony fed him food after that, and Loki was too tired to argue with him about it. He only managed about half the plate before he was drifting off.

When he awoke next, he had expected to wake up alone but instead he found two bodies carefully curled around him. Protecting him from the world. It was the safest he could recall feeling in a long time.

There were still things to be done. Loki was due to hear a lot more apologies, easier ones like Wid- Natasha’s which consisted of a quiet ‘sorry’ that they both silently agreed to never mention again, and harder ones like his brother’s which was a long talk between the two of them that left both feeling rung out. His father never apologized to him, not that Loki was expecting him to, but he would let up on Loki (out of respect or fear) so there was that at least. Surprisingly, Fury would apologize to Loki. Fury didn’t like to admit he was wrong, but he would call Loki to his office to give him a quite sincere apology for failing as the school’s headmaster when Loki had tried to trust him. Even Amora would apologize to Loki for not listening to his warning, though halfheartedly. Quite a few people who, formerly felt perfectly safe in antagonizing Loki would change their tune quite a bit. He would also be getting picked first in training exercises quite a bit more since his power display. There were also conversations to be had with Stephen and Tony about exactly what he was to them (boyfriend was a Midgardian word that he would quickly learn to love). All that would be nice, awkward, emotional exhaustion and complicated but it was all for the future.

Right now, Loki just pushed his head into Stephen’s back and wiggled a little so Tony felt more comfortable against his side and allowed himself to drift back to sleep. Right now he was safe. Right now there were people who cared about him enough to stay. Right now everything was good.

Who knows, with a right now so good, maybe the future would be too.

#frostironstrange #frostiron #ironstrange #tony stark #loki #stephen strange #dr. strange #marvel #mcu #original fanfiction #yamagicboikris #avengers academy #avac Loki #avac Tony stark #long post #dialouge based #answer tag

[haztory]

Oo, can you please do “do it. I dare you” x Frank

You open your car door with such an incredible force that almost makes Frank wince from his seat on the driver’s side.

On any other day, you would have a significant amount of consideration for his beat-up van—it’s a shocker that the thing is still alive—but since he’s decided that he wanted to be the world’s biggest dick today, all of that was thrown out the window.

You slam the door with an even stronger force that really gets Frank’s attention.

“Hey! Watch it!” he yells from inside the car to your retreating body. He wasn’t sure if you would actually be able to hear his complaint from his position on the inside of the car to your body outside of the car, but the middle finger he receives from you tells him otherwise.

He exits his car with a sigh, before quickly making his way to follow your stomping figure.

You leave the parking lot and head to the lobby of your apartment building, body exhibiting your anger in all tell-tale ways: stomping feet, tense shoulders, tightly pulled face and rough gestures. You know, the whole package.

You end up scaring your neighbor who was leaving as you were entering, by pulling the door open too fast for her liking that makes her gasp loudly (if we’re being honest, it was a little dramatic. But what do you expect from a washed-up actress from the sixties?) and look to the other people in the lobby.

They all stare at you with curiosity, rightfully so. Who wouldn’t be concerned when one of the tenants of the apartment building comes in, arms up about who knows what, with a large man dressed in all black and bruises on his face, following in behind you?

You.

You wouldn’t be concerned.

You would mind your own fucking business because this is Hell’s Kitchen for Christ’s sake. Something shady is always fucking happening.

You pay no mind to the other people, instead heading over to the elevator and roughly pushing the ‘up’ button. You can hear the whirring from inside the shut doors, but the elevator isn’t coming down fast enough so you push the button four more times. Because that’ll make it come down faster, right?

Frank settles into his place next to your fuming body, and you can feel his occasional glances on your body. It’s annoying.

“Would you stop?” You growl at him, shifting your head to him but refusing to make his eye-contact. You already have the attention of the other people in the lobby, you don’t need to make this any bigger than it already is.

Although a part of you wants to explode and just see what happens. But you respect Frank too much to do that because you are a good person who deserves to go to heaven with all the bullshit you put up with.

“What, I’m not allowed to look at you?” His voice is gruff and low and it sends shivers down your spine, but it also irritates you to a point where you want to just slap him even though you know he would catch the hit before you could even stop it with his big, strong hands and his-

“Just,” you shake your head vigorously, trying to get your thoughts to stop in their place before they reach a destination of no return, “Stop. Please.”

You’re not sure if you said that to him or to yourself.

The whirring behind the closed golden doors is still very loud, but the elevators aren’t coming down fast enough. Every second feels like an hour, every pair of eyes feels like it’s boring into your back and you feel like you can barely breathe. Your lips are facing the brunt of your emotions from the force of your teeth.

You’re angry. You are so angry at him for being such a rough and broken and dangerous and sweet and funny and sarcastic dickhead.

He makes you feel a rage that no one else can make you feel and you want to push him away, but you know you would only beg for him to come back. You want to heed everyone’s warnings about him, but you know he is nothing like they say he is.

I mean, yes, he can be a massive jerk that just gets under your skin no matter the situation, and he has literally no sense of personal boundaries, always managing to place himself too close to you in situations where it is more than unnecessary, but it is also so comforting to feel the warmth of his body against your back.

And he always laughs at your expense, like an actual asshole, whenever you tell him a stupid story about you falling at work, or saying the wrong thing in front of your boss and as annoying as it is, you would gladly fuck up every day for the rest of your life if it meant that he got to smile.

Because his smiles are so mesmerizing and beautiful. Whenever you see him smile time seems to stop. As lengthy as they sometimes feel, they are gone the second they came, always leaving you wanting more.

Oh, and Frank’s large furnace of a body does nothing to help you either. His body is so warm (honestly, whose body is that fucking warm? Not any normal person’s) that you can feel the heat from a mile away. His presence is so palpable that it’s hard to ignore. He���s… god, he’s Frank! He’s so distracting! You can barely think with him near you.

You want to punch him and push him and yell at him and grab his face and put his hands around your throat and make him squeeze until you’re gasping in delight-

The elevator doors open with a ding! and you are forced out of your cacophony of consuming thoughts. Your body propels itself forward, entering the area and pressing the button that says “6” on the panel a bit too roughly. Frank follows in behind you.

You finally feel like you can breathe (although not by a lot) when the doors close, effectively separating you from the tense lobby filled with invading eyes to the small space between two physically restraining people who are just dying to yell at each other.

Oh, this is definitely better.

The quiet space between you two manages to give some time to just reflect on the events of today.

Starting with you waking up late and realizing you literally had no clean clothes for work that morning, forcing you to drown your dirty laundry in perfume and have to just suck it up and head to work, followed by being skipped over for that promotion you worked so hard for only to find out it had been given to John Gleeson, your cubicle neighbor who isn’t even at work half of the time.

After the shitty day, you called Frank and asked him to join you at the bar for some much-needed down time (cause, y’know, friends do that shit) and everything was fine until a man groped you which made Frank throw a punch and all the attention turn to you both and then the general public realized, “Holy shit, that’s Frank Castle” and you’re pretty sure that someone got a picture of the both of you towering over an unconscious, drunk man.

So, yeah, you’re a little bit peeved off right now.

And the little voice in the back of your head is getting you fired. Up.

It’s speaking louder than all of your thoughts, combined. It’s yelling at you to initiate the conversation, to rid yourself of the tensions, to just get it over with, despite the opposing voice meekly saying in the back of your head to “just wait”.

Any rational person would listen to logical side of things, but when you’re under the trance of anger and annoyance, you tend to be riskier with your decisions.

So, you decide to pick a fight.

In an elevator.

At eight in the evening.

On a Tuesday.

Because, why not? Let’s add more shit to the already shitty day.

“Alright,” you say, breaking the tension of the silent elevator, turning your body to stare at the man leaning against the opposite side of the wall, “What the fuck were you thinking?”

He stares straight ahead, keeping his eyes glued to the elevator doors in front of him. He’s making it very clear he is not going to answer your question.

“Nononono, that is not how we’re doing this,” you quickly move from your side of the elevator to stand in front of him, forcing yourself into his line of sight, “We’re going to talk about this, because that shit back there, was unacceptable.”

Frank looks down at you, his eyebrows furrowed and his body defensive, “What was I supposed to do? Huh? Let him touch you like that?”

“You should’ve let me handle it,” you cross your arms over your chest.

He shakes his head, tearing his eyes away from your and looking off to the side, “Guys like that don’t stop. It’s just a slap on the wrist, wouldn’t have done shit.”

“Well you shouldn’t have gone in guns a-blazing and punched him!”

“Only way to get him to stop.”

You run your hands through your hair in frustration, “Are you even listening to what you’re saying? That’s not—Frank he was drunk—“

Frank shifts his posture, hunching his body over and pointing a finger at you, “Don’t make excuses for him (Y/N)-”

“And, we were in a public setting Frank. It’s risky enough for you to be in public, let alone fucking attack people in a crowded bar!”

He turns his head to look back at you, his eyes narrowed and a condescending tone in his voice, “Why don’t you tell me what this is really about?”

“Don’t take that tone with me, acting like I’m the crazy one. This is about you being fucking stupid, Frank. That’s what this is about. How many times do I have to say it?”

He scoffs, shrugging his shoulders and staring off into air, “I wasn’t going to let him touch you— “

“They got your picture Frank! They took a picture of you standing over an unconscious man! You really don’t think that’s going to be a problem?” You yell at him, your anger reaching a breaking point at his stubbornness. A short silence befalls the elevator, the whirring of the gears filling the silence.

You stare at the side of his face, your eyes darting to the different features: his stubbly jaw that clenches occasionally, his repeatedly broken nose, the scar on the side of his shaven head.

He’s tragically beautiful. Anyone can see that, even if they’ve got a film of anger over their eyes.

You let out a deep sigh, your anger slowly ebbing away as the silence grows stronger. You scratch the spot above your eyebrow, “Everyone’s going to know you’re alive.”

Frank leans his head against the wall of the elevator, glancing at the glowing buttons that show the elevator was still moving from the third floor to the fourth. Slow ass elevator, he thinks to himself.

He can see you shaking your head from his peripheral. Sure, you’re angry, but you’re not mad at him. You’re worried. (Which is even worse.)

“I don’t care if— “

“Well I do!” You voice cracks, the emotion visible within those three small words and Frank can feel his stomach drop, “I really do care. I care about what happens to you, Frank. Because despite how much we argue and how angry you make me sometimes, if something were to happen to you, I— “

You drop your head, unable to look at his deep eyes or his bruised face. You can barely think; your head is no longer coherent, all the thoughts melting into goo. A heavy, toxic goo.

“I wasn’t going to let him get away with touching you like that,” his voice is gentle and it, unintentionally, pulls your head up to meet his gaze, both of your eyes staring into each other’s. Your bodies are very close to each other’s, your chest almost touching his left shoulder.

“Why?” you press your lips together, “Tell me why. Give me a reason why you’re willing to just risk it all for some guy that touched me the wrong way!”

He stays silent, his eyes switching from staring into your left eye to your right eye, then down to your bruised lips from the continuous biting you’ve done and he can slowly feel his resolve withering like a fraying rope.

You raise an eyebrow at him, unaware of the internal battle he was going through, “Do it. I dare you.”

And then it all goes out the window.

It happens so fast you barely have time to react.

His body faces you, too quick for you to notice, and he places one hand on the column of your neck and the other on the back of your head, pulling you roughly to him.

His lips are surprisingly soft on yours as they slant against yours and you can’t begin to even describe how many times you’ve imagined this scenario happening. Your anger is immediately gone replaced with a bliss that, unsurprisingly, only he can provide.

You feel fireworks throughout your body and chills are sent down your spine with your heart beating fast and your body reacting faster.

You don’t notice when you push your body into his and you also don’t notice when you place your hands on the side of his face and pull him harder against you. (You do notice when his tongue swipes across your bottom lip and you very willingly give him access.)

As fast as it started, it ends. The elevator doors open with the familiar ding! and you are abruptly pulled out of the blissful embrace as he pulls away. Your eyes are still closed and your body feels as though it were swaying.

When your eyes open, you find an unfamiliar look in his eyes that start a burning between your legs. There’s a fire and determination in those deep brown eyes, and you would love nothing more for him to unleash it out on you.

You only get a brief look at them before he walks out onto your apartment floor, leaving you behind. You stand there, mouth tingling, legs shaking, and mind left in shock. You gently touch your fingers to your lips, wondering if that was even real.

Once you gain a sense of mind, you exit the elevator, unable to hide the smile that spreads across your face.

Maybe it’s not such a shitty day after all.

a/n: hope this is good enough! send me more! i love the prompt things!

#frank castle x reader #the punisher x reader #the punisher #frank castle drabble #frank castle #frank castle imagine #my writing #drabbles

[classykdlady]

Season 3 Thoughts

I’m going to put this under a cut to spare anyone who might not want to read this. Please keep in mind that these are my own opinions and they have no bearing on anything, whatsoever. I’m not here to harsh anyone’s buzz or tell anyone they’re wrong for liking what they like.

First off, I want to talk about some of the things that I liked, lest anyone think I’m just a Bitter Betty who hates everything. In no particular order:

Yi Tien Cho: I would like to thank god and also jesus that the show writers turned him from a super racist caricature (seriously, wtf Diana?) into an actual character with dignity and depth. Gary Young played him fabulously and made him a real favorite of mine. I loved his relationship with Margaret Campbell especially, but also appreciated his friendship with Claire. I’ll definitely miss him.

Murtagh: I definitely care about show Murtagh more than book Murtagh, so I’m glad they kept him alive. I’m curious to see what they do with his storyline since DG said that she doesn’t think they’re replacing Duncan Innes with him. 

The Geneva situation: I’m so glad that they took out the part where Geneva told Jamie to stop and he kept right on going. I know that whole thing has been rehashed to death, so it really was the best possible call to just eliminate that disgusting moment. 

Casting: Just a huge round of applause to the casting department on this show. They consistently knock it out of the park, and this season is no exception. Especially for several very important characters. Bless.

David Berry: On that note, let me publicly announce my love of David Berry as LJG. I think that even if I had hated John in the books, David’s portrayal of him on the show would’ve made me love him. He’s just so delightful. 

Frank: Yeah, this is not a Frank-hating blog, so absolutely miss me with that shit. I’ve enjoyed Tobias’s performance as Frank from the very beginning because he makes Frank feel like someone whom Claire would love very much. In the books, we’re very much limited by Claire’s perspective and I think she demonizes him in order to absolve herself of some responsibility and guilt. It is an absolutely human thing to do, but I’m so happy we got to see him trying to make things work and pushing back on her behavior. I detest unbalanced relationships because I don’t think it’s healthy when one person gets to act callously towards the other–even though I understand where it’s coming from and why it’s a natural reaction–and the recipient is just supposed to be 100% supportive all the time, with no regard for their own needs. Anyway, it’s been nice to be able to see his POV over the past three seasons, and to see why Claire tried so hard to get back to him and why she stayed with him after she came back. The racism is forever gross, though. 

Joe Abernathy: I like that he and Claire met in med school and went on to graduate and work together. Fight The Man, you two!

Adorable peanut Roger Wakefield showing up in Boston for Christmas

Jamie working the printing press: That was unexpectedly hot, so thank you for gifting it to us, whoever was in charge of that decision. 

Elias Pound: This absolute angel on earth was a bright light in an otherwise dark episode. He was such a sweetheart, who deserved so much better. 

The entire cast and crew: No matter your opinion on the season, the whole team worked very hard to bring us the best possible finished product. It’s not easy to make an adaptation from a book series, especially one with a long-time, passionate fanbase, so I genuinely appreciate the seriousness with which everyone involved is trying to take this. It’s a very fine line to walk between a faithful adaptation and making something your own, and it’s easy to sit in judgment when you’re not the one putting something out there. 

Wow, I didn’t think that list would be so long. 

And now, onto my more critical opinions. Now would probably be a good time to stop reading if you absolutely loved everything and are going to be upset that not everyone did. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

I think that most of my issues with this season can be summed up by one word: pacing. I honestly don’t think that their plan of doing one season per book is going to work out as well as they hoped, especially if they get past Drums. I go back and forth with myself about whether this season should’ve had more episodes (I understand the logistical and practical reasons why they didn’t. This is more of a theoretical.) The end of the season absolutely felt rushed–even with some of the more convoluted plot lines axed or cleaned up–while the beginning of the season kind of dragged. Yes, I do understand that we had to show Jamie and Claire separated to really feel those 20 years and we had to see all the things Jamie went through, but it still felt like a bit much to me. I also constantly felt like I just had to get through one thing to get to the next, better thing, if that makes sense. That might be 100% on me, but the big moments didn’t hit me as hard as in previous seasons. 

The in-epsiode pacing this season really made me grit my teeth. It just felt like the writers decided to spend inordinate amounts of time on some things to the exclusion of other events (*cough*character moments*cough*) that I would have preferred to see. For reals, though, why did we have that whole thing where Claire was desperately trying to save the life of the man who attacked her, only for him to die anyway? Or 15 minutes of Claire traipsing through the jungle on Saint Domingue? The audience is not stupid. We can comprehend things like montages and time lapses to illustrate the passage of time. But we got those things instead of Ian Murray, Sr. coming up to the brothel room while Claire was still abed or John and Claire meeting aboard the British ship. Yes, yes, I know they screwed that one up by having Jamie tell Claire about Willie and that John is his adopted father, but I’m still allowed to be disappointed about it. I always enjoyed that their first meeting was wholly independent of Jamie and that they genuinely liked and respected one another. I feel that the way it all played out in the show will alter their future relationship.

And now, for a truly unpopular opinion: I could’ve done with fewer or shorter sex scenes this season. I’m not 100% sure why, but they felt somewhat gratuitous to me this season. Especially in Print Shop, where it was obviously trying to feel like The Wedding. In Print Shop, the first one was necessary, but the second one could’ve easily been shortened/fade to black/whatever. Sometimes the sex scenes felt a bit fanservice-y to me. I’ve generally enjoyed the sex on this show in the past, so I’m not entirely sure what changed. Maybe it was that there was so much action this season and so few times when the characters had the time to just talk to each other, that the sex just felt like it was randomly thrown in, rather than happening organically. I don’t know, I’ll revisit this idea when I eventually rewatch the whole season. 

I would’ve liked to have seen more of the relationship growth between Claire and Marsali. I enjoy Marsali in subsequent books, so it would’ve been nice to see more of that evolution from distrust and suspicion to soliciting advice from Claire. 

On a similar note, I was displeased with how jokey the Fersali wedding was. Jamie officially granting Fergus his last name is a big moment for the two of them, but I feel like it got a bit lost in how ridiculous Father Fogden was being. 

I hadn’t really thought about it until I was watching the season unfold, but a lot of these issues may have come from the source material. Generally, I enjoy Voyager, but I do skip things sometimes when I’m rereading it. As a whole, it does seem kind of unfocused. It kind of veers off in the middle there into some side plots to the point where you almost forget about Young Ian’s kidnapping. 

These are just my first impressions and are subject to change after further reflection. As a whole, this season was kind of a miss for me. I’ll take the responsibility for at least some of that because I definitely let my expectations get out of hand. Also, I don’t have hyper-fixations like some people do. I have brief periods of deeply enjoying something, then it fades. I think I’ve almost definitely hit the fade, so that might be affecting things. I’ve never been the squeeing type, so I was never going to be at that level of enjoyment anyway. 

If you made it this far, thanks for reading. You don’t have to agree with me on any of it, but please don’t come on my post/blog and berate me about why I’m wrong for not liking something. I am always up for discussion or questions about my ramblings. I apologize for the disorganized nature of this post. I just wanted to write something about what I was thinking. 

#i really don't want this showing up in the main tags #because i don't really want that much attention #laura talks about outlander #season 3 post mortem #don't read unless you're ready for some negative #i tried to explain everything but idk if i succeeded

[hellostarlight20]

Tau Theta 6/

From wikipedia: In ancient times, tau was used as a symbol for life or resurrection, whereas the eighth letter of the Greek alphabet, theta, was considered the symbol of death.

Part of We Are Never Alone, but can be read as a stand alone 50th rewrite. (Established Ten/Rose relationship, no Master arc, Rose and Martha are BFFs, the River Song arc was taken care of, love, shagging, and family. There, you’re caught up!)

Tau Theta: Rose thought she was meeting her daughter’s new girlfriend when she blinked and ended up on Karn right as the Eighth Doctor was about to drink from the chalice the Sisterhood of Karn offered him.

Time is in flux, people are trying to change the Doctor’s timeline, and Rose refuses to allow any of that. Even if she has to fight all her Doctors to stop it.

Awesome pict below by @fadewithfury for the equally awesome @aeonish, both of whom agreed to let me use it for this story. A million thanks to Mrs. Bertucci for the beta!

AO3 and TSP

6.

“You!”

 The creature who looked like his wife waved at him, an amused wiggle of her fingers. She grinned and looked so much like the woman the Doctor remembered, his hearts skipped. Fury burned the shock from his system and he stalked forward.

 “Who are you? Why have you chosen this form?” Uncaring of the destructive box behind him, the Doctor whipped out his sonic and pointed it at the creature. Voice lowering, feeling every inch the Oncoming Storm Romana called him, the Doctor threatened the woman. “You chose the wrong form. You’ll regret that.”

 The creature grinned wider. “Do you know why the TARDIS doesn’t want to be in this room?”

 “Leave my ship out of this.” The Doctor stalked closer. “And tell me who you are.”

 “Oh, Doctor.” She shook her head, looking faux pouty which was a look he easily saw on his wife and hated this—this thing took her image. “You must remember you gave the Moment a conscience.”

Her words took him aback and the Doctor dropped the arm holding the sonic. “What? I didn’t—the Moment was created eons ago, before Rassilon came to power.”

 “Hello!” She waved again. “No, Doctor. The Moment was created by the Other.” She leaned forward and studied him, tilting her head left then right, eyes flashing gold like the Time Vortex. “Ah, well. Maybe one day you’ll remember. No matter! No—no, that wasn’t it. No more. Yes, no more. That’s what you told Romana. That’s what you told the Time Lords. That’s what you told the Daleks. And only Romana and the TARDIS listened.”

 “You’re not making any sense.” The Doctor ran a hand down his face, wearier now than he had been when Romana helped him steal the Moment.

 His old friend could’ve warned him that in doing so he’d go mad. Then again, he always said he’d never been sane. The Doctor opened his eyes and met the glowing gold of the creature who was most certainly not his wife. How did he tell the difference any more between sanity and madness?

 Did it matter?

 “You know,” the Moment whispered as coyly as the Doctor imagined his wife doing so in their bed. White-hot fury blinded him at the seductive curve of her lips. It should’ve been his wife looking at him like that, not a destructive beast. “I chose this face and form especially for you.”

 “Pick-someone-else,” he snarled. The Doctor wanted to take the Moment by the throat and strangle her—it. He’d tolerate any other face but the one who gave him such hope.

 She-it pouted. “But it’s from your past.” She frowned. “Or possibly your future. I always get those two mixed up.”

 He scoffed and turned from the creature—the Moment—but she popped up in front of him. Defeated, the Doctor sat on one of the crates beside the box and stared at his hands. His last hope, his reason for hoping, mocked him.

 This was his curse then. The last good thing in his life ripped from him and destroyed by his own hubris. He thought he could end the war, that he was the only one who could. He chose the Moment specifically for its power, thinking he could control that power.

 Who was the fool here?

 “I’m afraid that’s where you’re wrong, my dear.” The words tasted like ash, but he so desperately wanted to see his wife in front of him. Just one more time after so many eons of fighting. “I don’t have a future.” He sniffed and looked up, watching the image watch him with such profound sympathy his hearts twisted.

 Even from her-it-whatever, the Doctor didn’t deserve her sympathy. He stood and offered a grin that showed all the reckless pride he possessed. It didn’t seem to fool the Moment. “What should I call you? What’s—no. Don’t.” He swallowed thickly. “Don’t tell me her name.”

 Every part of him yearned to know his wife’s name, taste it on his tongue, whisper it into her ear. Repeat it over and over as he kissed along her skin. Without her here, with only the memory of their single meeting, or their all-too-brief kisses, the Doctor didn’t want to know. And it certainly wasn’t this creature’s place to tell him.

 “Hmm, in this form I’m called Bad Wolf.” The Doctor’s head jerked up and he met the gold of her gaze. She grinned, as feral as he remembered his wife grinning at the Priestess of Karn. “Are you afraid of the big bad wolf, Doctor?”

 “No.” He stood and crossed to her, questions burning the tip of his tongue. “I’m not. Why that form? What—on Karn, she said she was the wolf. The she-wolf protecting her pack. The mother wolf.” Frustrated, the Doctor pressed the heel of his palm to his temple. “Bad Wolf, Bad Wolf…what does that have to do with me? With here?” He met the Moment’s gaze. “What does it have to do with you?”

 “This is the form you can most identify with.” She frowned. “Or will.” She grinned, a beautiful smile that wanted desperately to ease the ache in his hearts, but that smile wasn’t from her. “Once Upon a Time…isn’t that how the stories start?”

 “You know an awful lot of Earth lore for a purely Gallifreyan construct.” He crossed his arms over his chest and glared. Anger and hate burned within him, fragile barriers against the desolation consuming him from the inside out.

 “Ah, but Bad Wolf was only the beginning, not the end. She created herself, as she likes to say.” The Moment winked at him, but the Doctor only felt the cold hand of dread. “I take the words, I scatter them in time and space. A message to lead myself here.”

 “Here?” Furious, the Doctor stalked to the Moment and grabbed her. His hands slipped through her shoulders, but she didn’t vanish. The Doctor curled his hands into fists, scrambling to hold onto his temper. “Don’t you dare bring her here! Keep her away from this! She’s innocent, she’s human, she has nothing to do with this war!”

Once again, the Moment watched him with pitying sympathy. “Oh, Doctor. You have no idea, do you? No idea the lengths your friends, your family, those you love and those who love you, will go to for you.” She shook her head. “Do you?”

 “I don’t deserve that.” He leaned against the crates and looked at his hands. “I never deserved them. Brought nothing but pain and destruction on everyone I ever knew. And now—” The Doctor broke off and looked up from the blood on his hands, metaphorical or not, to the Moment.

 His chest ached, and he thought if fate or the universe or whoever was left that listened to the wishes, hopes, prayers of an old Time Lord listened now, that’s what he wished for. One final moment with the woman he loved—or would grow to love enough to marry. He remembered, with startlingly clarity, the way her fingers brushed the pendant beneath her jumper during their one meeting on Karn.

 A Gallifreyan marriage pendant. He didn’t have to see to know she wore it.

 “Every moment in time and space is burning. It must end.” He met the Moment’s steady golden gaze. “I’ll end it the only way I can.” He sighed and pushed upright, shoving his personal hopes and wishes far into the recesses of his mind.

 He was about to commit genocide on two species. He deserved no absolution.

 “And you’re going to use me to end it by killing them all, Daleks and Time Lords alike. I could, but there will be consequences for you.”

 “There always are.” The Doctor held her-its gaze. “I accept my fate. I understand my actions. There’s no other choice. The fighting, the death, the constant changing of time, the resurrections and death and nightmares that come from it—it must end.”

 The Doctor closed his eyes and envisioned his wife—not as the Moment stood before him, dressed in tan rags for reasons he didn’t understand and couldn’t be bothered to ask. He envisioned her on Karn, the fire and energy burning through her, the determination. As he had so often since then, he remembered the feel of her lips against his, the softness of her hands, the press of her body to his.

 “In killing them all—” his voice broke but he stood straight and tall and accepting of his actions, and met the Moment’s hard gaze— “I accept my fate. I won’t survive, either.” He swallowed. “I’ll change my own fate, my own destiny. I’ll never met her, will I? I’ll never meet the woman whose form you stole. My wife.”

 The Moment paused, eyes glowing, head tilted as the Doctor imagined his wife tilted hers.

 “Just—tell me this one thing,” he begged. His throat closed but he needed to know. Had to ask. “Is she—will she be all right? Will she be…happy? I just want—”

 The Doctor needed her to be happy. Changing time like this, dying in the midst of the Time War, and never seeing her again hurt more than any single event in all his previous lives combined. Except for leaving Susan on Earth.

 “I can see the whole of time and space. Everything must come to dust. All things. Everything dies.”

 Stunned, frozen in place, the Doctor stared at the Moment as she seemed to recite words he heard before. Or maybe not yet.

  Then she grinned. “Never say never, Doctor.”

#ficandchips #Eight x Rose #Ten x Rose #anti-50th #50th fix #romance #angst #adventure

[imagincs]

Can you do a nathan x reader, where reader has cancer and nathan gets upset and helps or something

Sorry this is super dooper late!

Everyone talks about how in a blink of an eye, one little thing could change your life forever, how most of them believe it to be bullshit and just a way for life to scare teens into becoming responsible. Who ever thought of that is a complete idiot, one more thing-

(Y/n) jumped when her journal was forced closed, almost taking her hand with it closing. She looked up with a frown, seeing the one and only Nathan Prescott. Ah, yes, they had been friends since she moved to Arcadia Bay, though, it was a bit awkward now that she thought back on it.

(Y/n) had met him when she found him in the girl’s bathroom once, she soon came to find out that if he’s in there, the girls who walk in get awkward and leave immediately. It was like his hide-out, a place to let out all those thoughts swelling inside his head.

“Yes, Nathan?” (Y/n) called out with a heavy sigh, irritated that he had basically pulled her out of a cluster-fuck of a thought she had stuck in her head for weeks.

“I want you to meet me in the spot, five minutes.” It wasn’t an offer, he was ordering her. Sighing, she nodded as he left, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he left the classroom she was in. Nathan had meant the girl’s bathroom.

Ever since she met him in there, they would meet occasionally and talk about each other’s problems, and at first; (Y/n) would do most of the talking, trying to get Nathan to talk about his problems and it took a while until he finally opened up to her; despite him calling her every curse word in the book and to leave him the hell alone, she stayed by his side when he needed it the most.

Grabbing her thing, (Y/n) left the classroom, since it was a free period the teacher didn’t question her. (Y/n) walked down the hall until she reached the bathroom. “Nate..? You here?” She called out, no response. “Great, I’m here on time and you’re not..” She whispered while walking over to the mirrors, looking at her reflection. Slowly, she reached up and began to play with her hair, a frown upon her lips when she pulled her hand away and noticed how a couple pieces had followed after her hand, tangled between her fingers. (Y/n) shook her head as she went over to the trash, wiping the hairs off, allowing them to fall in the trash.

“Sorry ‘bout that. Mr. Jefferson needed to talk to me about my photos.” Nathan groaned with a roll of his eyes as he walked over to (Y/n). “Thanks for coming.” His tone was more gentle as he said this, his hands coming up to touch (Y/n)’s cheek before he slowly leaned down, pressing his lips against hers softly, both of their eyes fluttering shut as they welcomed each other’s embrace.

The two had been involved with each other romantically for a while but never really declared themselves as a thing. (Y/n) wasn’t sure how to bring it up to him and Nathan didn’t want to discuss it. He never did like putting details in certain things, but he wasn’t shy about marking you as his, though, you knew you weren’t the first. But did that stop you two from meeting late at night in his dorm and turning the lights off to dance blindly together? No.

(Y/n) felt her back touch the cold, tile wall of the bathroom as Nathan ran his hands along her sides, a starving hunger creeping up within the two that needed to be fed. Bring her hands up to his chest, (Y/n) pushed Nathan away from her before it could go any further.

“What the fuck, (Y/n)?!” Nathan questioned, quite angry she would deny feeding his, no, their hunger; the one he knew both of them had and were yearning for.

“Nate…” She began with a heavy sigh. (Y/n) needed to tell him, he was her…well…person. The one she would go to jail for and he deserved to know what was going on with her recently. “If you only called me in here to have a quick fuck, I’m…” she sighed, looking down at her hands where they were tangled with each other, fidgeting, “I’m sorry but that’s not how it’s going to go this time..”

“The fuck are you going on about?” Nathan growled out, throwing his head back in frustration, running a hand through his hair with a scoff at how she was apologizing. “What-the-fuck-ever. I knew I should’ve messaged Victoria instead. At least she-”

“I have cancer.” (Y/n) confessed, looking at him as she cut him off from finishing his sentence. “I don’t want to have sex with you because I’m dying. Guess that’s pretty selfish of me, right?” She asked, trying to keep a straight face.

“No, no, no..” Nathan began with labored breaths escaping him, like he had just ran a mile, he began pacing back and forth, bringing his hand up to his lips, biting at the skin lightly. “You’re lying.” Nathan growled out, staring right at (Y/n).

“Nathan, I’m no-” “Yes you are!” He screamed, glaring at her. “I can’t believe this!” He growled, kicking one of the bathroom stalls, forcing it to slam against the wall at the force before he went towards the door.

“Whoa, wait!” (Y/n) called out with a frown. “I tell you I’m dying and you scream at me then decide to leave?!” She asked.

“I can’t deal with this right now, (Y/n)!” Nathan shouted, turning around to face her.

“You? You can’t deal with this? I have no CHOICE, Nathan!” (Y/n) raised her voice, watching as the Prescott scoffed, reaching for the door knob to the bathroom. “I stuck by you, Nathan Prescott!” She shouted, causing Nathan to pause and look over his shoulder at her.

“What?” He asked, narrowing his eyes.

“You told me every little thing that was happening with you, your dad, Mr. Jefferson, what happened to Rachel, you told me everything and yet I stuck by you.” (Y/n) began, she could feel her heart pounding harshly inside her chest, wanting to break free at any minute or skip a beat and stop completely. “I stuck by you, I loved you. And now that I’m telling you something just as serious as that? You decide to leave! Why?! Is it because you’re scared?” She questioned.

“I’m not scared!” He hissed.

“Well I am!” She snapped at him, her voice breaking. “I am terrified and I want my best friend with me. I want that guy who I love to stay by my side, hold me, tell me it’s going to be okay…” (Y/n) was using all her strength to hold back the sobs that were causing her body to shake, overwhelmed. “Please don’t leave me…” She pleaded, watching as Nathan stayed still for a moment before opening the door and leaving (Y/n) in the bathroom, alone.

A month had gone by since then. (Y/n) and Nathan hadn’t talked ever since that day she told him. Within just a month, (Y/n)’s condition got worse and was aggressively climbing up the ladder of life. She had a dark green, silk, bandana around her head, covering the hair she had left, hiding it from the world since her hair was falling out more and more with each passing day. She would notice the glances she’d get from the Vortex Club, a club she was once a member in. Ever since the whole Nathan thing, and with her health plummeting, she left the club to focus on school and the friends who she kept close.

It was night time now, (Y/n) was in her dorm room, looking out the window, enjoying how despite the shitty events happening, the stars would always shine brightly. It gave her some kind of comfort that there was something else to focus on rather than the stressful events of school and the glances of pity her friends would give her unknowingly. Her attention was taken off the stars when she heard knocking on her door. “Coming!” She called out, getting up from the chair, the knocks kept going and getting louder. “Jesus, I said I was coming, give me a damn minu-” (Y/n) fell silent when she opened the door. “Nathan..?” She asked with an arched brow, confused.

“(Y/n)..” He whispered, looking at her, a frown on his face and his eyes looked puffy.

“Are you okay?” She asked, concerned about how he looked.

“I..I…no, I’m not. I wasn’t.” He was speaking fast, inviting himself in as he walked past her and inside her room. (Y/n) closed the door and looked at him with a frown. “I just…I uh…I need to sit - wait - no, I think I’ll stand.”

“Nathan,” she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose out of frustration, “what are you doing here? Why are you even here?” The question caused Nathan to look at her, then at his feet, then back at her. He was hesitant, but he reached his arms out to her, slowly, cautious.

“I’m here to apologize.” Nathan admitted with a nervous breath of a laugh. “For…walking out on you.” (Y/n) straightened out her posture, giving him a look.

“After a month? Really?” She questioned with a scoff. “Get out, Nathan.” (Y/n) then pointed towards the door.

“No.” Nathan shook his head at her attempts on kicking him out.

“Excuse me?” She asked, her jaw dropping at him refusing to leave. “Don’t think that just because I’m dying that I can’t fucking kick your ass out of my dorm roo-” “I want to hold you.” Nathan began, looking at her, cutting her off.

“What?” (Y/n) questioned, placing a hand on her hip, unimpressed.

“I want to hold you, I never want to let you go. I want to hold your hand while by your side and tell you that everything is going to be alright. Because I know…” He fell quiet for a moment before making eye contact with (Y/n). “Because I know that you’re scared and…I am too. I’m fucking terrified too, (Y/n).. I’m sorry I left you, it’s just..” He sighed heavily. “This shit whole has taken everyone I love away from me! I was scared to open up and love you, I was scared you were gonna be taken too! Then you weren’t and now you are!” Nathan’s voice began to crack as (Y/n) hurried over to him, wrapping her arms around him tightly was he sobbed into her bandanna, trying to bury his face in it, scared to let go of her. “You’re my person, (Y/n)…I can’t go through this again..” He sobbed into her ear weakly.

“We’re going to be okay…” (Y/n) whispered to him, her own voice breaking as she sobbed too, squeezing him in her arms as he lifted her off the ground, just holding her close. They would get through this, together.

#ask #answered #oops-my-trash-spilt #nathan x reader #nathan prescott x reader #life is strange imagine #nathan prescott #reader insert

[witty-diagnosis]

Captain we got a leak

Well pucker up boys and girls this is gonna be a deep one, if you’re not interested and purely here for the movie reviews don’t worry I have one written out I’ll post soon, now onto a little update. So I moved back from uni, cool, I got most of my tattoo sleeve finished so I couldn’t bend my arm for a few days and am now peeling like a snake, wowzers, and I broke my fucking laptop in transit while my desktop is in storage so while comic con was on I couldn’t fucking post, what a bastard. So while Dota downloads on my sluggish as old yella level wifi I thought I’d post about a topic that is easy enough to talk about anonymously on the internet, well like one person might know me but it’s been like five years so who fucking cares. and that is how I go about handling my emotions and what appears to be the medias perception of it.

Now I am being bombarded with headspace ads telling me I need to take time out my day to stop thinking about everything as I’m laid spread on my bed just in my shorts barely focusing on the next video in my ever expanding playlist of horror movie breakdowns, maybe summing up the effort to grunt as I press the skip ad button. It could be dead meat, foundflix or spookyrice they’re all fair game for headspace. But the ad made me do a bit of research into how types of people try to handle emotions, and when it wasn’t articles telling me how, it was them telling me why, of course upbringing plays a roll. Growing up is when you learn to process your emotions and being in a home unsuitable for that leads to problems, ones I’ve personally experienced, little bit about me, my father is an alcoholic I haven’t seen in years my mother has had lifelong depression and anxiety and childhood problems and my twin sister is autistic, me I’m just cynical. But that had a profound effect on me, I struggle to open up to people to this day and I can’t cry in front of people, like not I won’t I can’t, I kind of shut down and become callous and rational with a dark sense of humour. And that had me wondering why this happens.

Now childhood aside I’m sure many people, possibly many of you have been or are in my situation, so I went big brain mode, frankly because I wanted to feel the touch of a keyboard again and found the obvious media influences. I mean a lifetime of being told to ‘man up’ isn’t going to do me any favours, the most in touch with my feminine side I am is when I hug my girlfriend. But look at media, when does it ever show men crying, deaths and births and losing or winning championships in football or whatever, so you’re either dealing with loss of a loved one or something you’ve worked your entire life for, or the achievement of a lifetime or birth of your offspring. And what do they do when they cry at losing or winning their lifes work, the thing that drives them, that motivates them and why they wake up, the media insults them for it, calls them crybabies and weak and that it’s heartbreaking and all that other shit. So you achieved your dream, you succeded at something people told you you would fail at, and you’re not allowed to be overjoyed? No wonder so many kids are all kinds of fucked nowadays, not even allowed to take pride in their achievements.

Now lets look at women and girls too, it’s only fair. Now socially we have moved on a tiny little bit from females being the percieved emotional anchor of the household, I mean after all my mother seemed to cut the chain to my household at childbirth. But perceptions are still similar to what they were years ago, I mean take the womens world cup recently, it was phenomanal, America winning pissed me off but that’s because I’m english and they took us out. It felt like the big event it should’ve been, and personally I want women’s premier league in fifa as soon as possible. So the main focus of that final, it wasn’t america winning and Netherlands losing, it wasn’t the expansion to 32 teams next world cup, no it was Megan Rapinoe and her response to Trump saying she won’t go to the White House, now I don’t blame her being he is a huge dick and I respect someone for standing up to their values, but the sheer focus on this response, it being emotional, and what it was called by some as ludicrous and insulting to America and such because it wasn’t what was expected. No what was expected was tears everywhere when the American team won, just crying all over, and tears when they got back and tears when they meet president tosspot. There was genuine questions on commentary when it showed Rapinoe and Jill Ellis hugging but not crying, in fact they said “and the tears are flowing... not with these 2 but they will be soon.” assuming that Ellis, who had already won one fucking world cup had any doubt she could do it again, or possibly one of the most successful women’s football players of all time doubting her abilities. So in this occassion it was flipped, they were berated for not getting teary eyed, some newspapers (thanks Sun) calling them egomaniacs and arrogant for having faith in abilities that have won them it 3 times before. So while men can’t cry because they’ll be called weak if women do then that’s fine but when they don’t is the problem, that makes them big headed and arrogant, y’know not incredibly successful and talented. 

It doesn’t matter what gender you are, the influence that has on people, especially kids who take everything in is massive, You shouldn’t need to hold back anything when you achieve something, cry, smile do whatever you’re feeling, achieving something is achieving something, it ignores gender and sexuality and all that stuff, it doesn’t care about that stuff, the american women’s team won because they were that good, Liverpool won the champions league because they were that good, Rocky beat Appolo Creed, Million Dollar baby was sad but she won, Nyla rose is making waves for transgender wrestlers in AEW as is Sonny Kiss for homosexuals, I mean he’s fun to as hell to watch. The way emotions are handled are dictated by upbringing and that’s how it’ll always be, and ‘man up’ and ‘big girls don’t cry’ is still out there, it had a huge effect on me personally as I’m sure it did on many other people but thankfully it’s slowly dying down, I’m not saying it’s okay for people to randomly burst out crying in the streets, please be considerate to others and let’s not take it too far, but maybe like headspace, take a few minutes each night, maybe lay down, blast some low-fi chill revision mix and take some time to unpack what’s bothering you, figure out a rational way to work around it, being an emotional person isn’t an excuse for irrational actions that cause yourself and others harm, act like an adult and adress the problems in yourself then resolve them in real life. Because you’ll get nowhere fast if you leave problems you can solve unnatended, it’s like lighting a firework and expecting it to not go off, just because people can be arseholes doesn’t mean you should be, being a good person feels good, it’s emotianally rewarding even if you don’t recieve thanks, just remember there’s being nice then there’s just a litte too far then there’s slow down buddy. And hell adressing that problem can be your first achievment and you should be proud.

Anyway guys I went a little, or a lot off topic there but I hope this helped a bit, it’s nice having the tactile keys of a keyboard back and aleviating some boredom while proving that yes I am fact still alive, anyways I’ll post that review in a couple of days so see you guys soon.

#witty #diagnosis #emotions #emotional baggage #handling emotions #being an adult #low fi #solve problems #american womens team #football #nyla rose #sonny kiss #man up #big girls don't cry #childhood memories #media #rocky balboa #personal achievement #alcoholic parents #be a good person

[investmart007]

WASHINGTON | Trump touts celebration of US after canceling NFL's Eagles

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WASHINGTON | Trump touts celebration of US after canceling NFL's Eagles

WASHINGTON (AP) — A day after scrubbing a White House visit by the Super Bowl champion Philadelphia Eagles, President Donald Trump appeared to challenge a new NFL policy that requires players to stand if they’re on the field during the national anthem or stay in the locker room.

Trump initially praised the policy after the NFL announced it last month.

Seizing an opportunity to fan a culture war he has stoked, Trump tweeted Tuesday: “Honoring America! NFL, no escaping to Locker Rooms!”

Instead of hailing Eagles players for their work on the field and in their community, the White House is staging a “Celebration of America” featuring music provided by U.S. military bands and choruses.

“We will proudly be playing the National Anthem and other wonderful music celebrating our Country today at 3 P.M., The White House, with the United States Marine Band and the United States Army Chorus. Honoring America! NFL, no escaping to Locker Rooms!” Trump tweeted.

In a separate tweet, he named the championship teams that have visited the White House during his presidency, including the Chicago Cubs, Houston Astros, Pittsburgh Penguins, New England Patriots and some college sports teams.

Trump’s announcement was the latest signal that tensions remain high around the NFL protests that began in 2016 when San Francisco 49ers quarterback Colin Kaepernick began silently kneeling on the sidelines during the anthem. Kaepernick’s protest was intended to raise awareness around systemic racism and, specifically, the killing of black men by police.

Trump said in a statement Monday that some Eagles players “disagree with their President because he insists that they proudly stand for the National Anthem, hand on heart, in honor of the great men and women of our military and the people of our country.”

He said the team wanted to send a smaller delegation Tuesday, but “the 1,000 fans planning to attend the event deserve better.” None of the Eagles took a knee during the anthem in 2017.

One person set to attend the ceremony told The Associated Press less than half of the team’s 53-man roster planned to go to the White House. The person spoke on condition of anonymity due to the sensitive nature of the decision.

Philadelphia Mayor Jim Kenney on Tuesday criticized Trump’s decision and questioned Trump’s patriotism.

“When he had the opportunity to serve his country for real, his father got him out of it, and I think it’s really disingenuous for him to talk about patriotism in any way shape or form,” Kenney told CNN, referring to military deferments Trump obtained that kept him from being sent to Vietnam during the war.

Kenney earlier had called Trump “a fragile egomaniac obsessed with crowd size and afraid of the embarrassment of throwing a party to which no one wants to attend.”

Last week, Eagles safety Malcolm Jenkins said he would not attend the ceremony and participate in a group photo to “to avoid being used as any kind of pawn.” In addition to Jenkins, defensive end Chris Long was the most outspoken player against going. Quarterback Carson Wentz had planned to attend.

The White House did not immediately respond to questions about what prompted the change of plans and why the circumstances were different from other events honoring winning teams, such as the NFL’s New England Patriots. Some Patriots players boycotted the visit.

Trump wrote on Twitter late Monday that “Unfortunately, only a small number of players decided to come, and we canceled the event.”

Several players asked about Trump’s decision declined to respond. A statement from the Eagles did not directly addressing the White House cancellation.

“Watching the entire Eagles community come together has been an inspiration,” the team statement read. “We are truly grateful for all of the support we have received and we are looking forward to continuing our preparations for the 2018 season.”

Wide receiver Torrey Smith, who said previously that he planned to skip the visit, responded with a series of tweets. “So many lies,” he wrote, adding, “Not many people were going to go.”

Smith, who played with the Eagles before being traded to the Carolina Panthers in March, added: “No one refused to go simply because Trump ‘insists’ folks stand for the anthem. … The President continues to spread the false narrative that players are anti-military.”

He went on: “There are a lot of people on the team that have plenty of different views. The men and women that wanted to go should’ve been able to go. It’s a cowardly act to cancel the celebration because the majority of the people don’t want to see you. To make it about the anthem is foolish.”

Trump praised the NFL’s new anthem policy after the league announced it last month. The policy forbids players from sitting or taking a knee on the field during the anthem but allows them to stay in the locker room. Violations would result in fines against the teams.

“I think that’s good,” Trump told “Fox & Friends” in an interview last month. “I don’t think people should be staying in the locker rooms, but still I think it’s good. You have to stand proudly for the national anthem. Or you shouldn’t be playing, you shouldn’t be there. Maybe you shouldn’t be in the country.”

Sen. Bob Casey, D-Pa., invited the Eagles to visit Capitol Hill instead. “I’m proud of what the @Eagles accomplished this year. I’m skipping this political stunt at the White House and just invited the Eagles to Congress. @Eagles How about a tour of the Capitol?” he wrote.

White House legislative director Marc Short told CNN he didn’t know who had canceled on whom, but said, “It’s unfortunate when politics gets in the middle of this.”

By Associated Press – published on STL.News by St. Louis Media, LLC(R.A)

#honoring America #NFL policy #Philadelphia Eagles #TodayNews #United States Marine Band #Washington #white house