#which reminds me i need to buy another pair of slacks because >wedding

[isolemnlyswearpevensie]

A Moment Apart Part 2 | Caspian x Reader

Warnings: None

Time/Era: After Voyage of the Dawn Treader 

Word Count: 1.3k

Summary: Caspian appears in Y/N’s world in hopes of finding his long lost lover. 

Request: Would you ~possibly~ be able to do a part two to the caspian fic where he shows up in the reader’s world??

A/N: Thanks for the request :) Let me know what you think. I hope everyone enjoys! Please keep sending requests :)

Part 1 | masterlist  | read on ao3

“Your world is quite...loud,” Caspian states, looking around the room. He was sat on Y/N’s bed, his hand in hers, looking rather confused. 

“There’s a lot more people and buildings,” Edmund responds. He was leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed. “Not to mention, horses aren’t exactly used as modes of transportation here.” Caspian stuck out like a sore thumb within the group; he adorned his sword like normal and was dressed in his long, leather coat and mid-calf boots. Whereas the rest of the room was wearing sweater vests, clean pants, and knee-length skirts. Caspian’s finger traced the plaid pattern on the Y/N’s skirt. 

“How did you get here?” Lucy asks, addressing the elephant in the room. Caspian sighs, looking a bit solemn. 

“Well, it’s a bit of a long story,” He glances at the painting on Y/N’s wall. “Is that the Dawn Treader?”

“Yes, that’s how we got to Narnia last time. It started spouting water and flooded this room,” Y/N pointed towards her desk, which was mostly filled with Lucy’s stationary supplies. “That’s the chair that hit me.”

“It flooded the room?”

“Yes, it was quite scary.” Eustace enters the room, holding a book about the invention of flashlights. “How are you here? Are we going back to Narnia?”

“Hello, Eustace. And I’m not sure. Aslan sent me here in search of you,” He looked over at Y/N and gave her hand a squeeze. 

“Me? Why would Aslan need you to look for me?” Y/N got her first good look at his eyes for quite some time. They were a deep brown and had a kind sparkle in them; they made Y/N’s knees turn weak. 

“Well, I’m set to be married in the next fortnight.” Y/N instantly let go of his hand and stood, walking away from him. Her face showed nothing but sadness and betrayal. 

“What? How could you?” Y/N’s voice trembled as she spoke, no matter how hard she tried. She could feel the tears well in her eyes before threatening to cascade down her cheeks. Caspian stood right after her and reached his hands in her direction. 

“You didn’t let me finish! Since I am the only ruler of Narnia since the Kings and Queens of Old left,” He gestured towards Edmund and Lucy with one of his outstretched hands. “My advisors decided it was in my best interest to find a queen to help me rule. We’ve been trying to become allies with a neighboring kingdom for much time now and they believe it will make the deal go by smoother,” Caspian takes a deep breath. 

“Well, that makes some sense, I guess. I see where they’re coming from…” Edmund comments, earning a death glare from his cousin. Caspian sends him a look before continuing. 

“Anyway, they set up the wedding without my consent. In return, I talked to Aslan. He said that he knows there is a certain girl who I would be much happier ruling with and that I need to find her again.”

Y/N turned around and looked at Caspian. He was much taller than her, so his head was tilted slightly down to look into her eyes. 

“So, you found a way to come here.”

“Well, no, not exactly. Aslan provided that. He dropped me into a stone courtyard that was occupied by a ton of people. There were a ton of goods and food, and the people there were buying everything by the basket full! I didn’t know food was so valuable in this world. I wasn’t very interested in the courtyard so, I started walking in an attempt to find one of you,” 

“The farmer’s market! I was about to go there!” Lucy exclaimed. 

“Farmer’s market?”

“Local farmers and vendors come to sell their goods. It’s been a bit sparse due to the war, but it’s the cheapest way to shop for food.” Lucy forgot how much different Narnia was from her world. All of the Pevensies and the two Scrubbs had to remind themselves that Narnia natives didn’t have the same normalizes as they did growing up. 

“I see. Y/N told me much about the battle happening in this world during the long days on the sea. The people at this, so-called, farmer’s market didn’t like my sword very much, which is odd. I thought they would feel safer.” Caspian’s hand fell to the hilt of his sword unconsciously. 

“Yeah, people here get a bit nervous around weapons, especially right now. Here, the weapons don’t really mean safety. People think you’re going to attack them, rather than protect them.” Edmund pushed off the door and walked towards the newcomer. “If you’re going to stay here, you need to get out of those clothes so you blend in a bit better.” 

“What? No!” 

“Yes! You won’t be able to fit into mine, but maybe our uncles.” Edmund left and came back with a neatly stacked pile of old-man looking clothing. “I know it’s not great, but it’s better than what you’re wearing.”

“Love, the washroom in the second door to the right. Go change.” Y/N gently pushed the King towards the door. Once he was gone, Lucy turned towards Y/N. 

“I think he wants you to go back to Narnia with him, Y/N!”

“What? No, he doesn’t, Lu. This is just a weird set of circumstances.” 

“Think about it, there is a certain girl who I would be much happier ruling with. Y/N, that’s you!” 

“Well, are you going to go?” Edmund presses, nearly tripping on Eustace, who was sitting on the floor with his book open. 

“He hasn’t even asked me to go,” 

Caspian walked into the room dressed head to toe in an attire meant for someone in their 60’s. He wore a button-up shirt with stripes on it, a vest and red tie, a pair of gray slacks, and pointy dress shoes. The outfit wouldn’t be that bad, but each article of clothing was about 2 sizes too big and did no justice for his body. 

Y/N giggled, “You look like my dad,” Caspian looked desparately at Edmund. 

“It’s better than my clothes, they would be 2 sizes too small.”

“You look great as always, Cas,” Lucy complimented. “So, what did you mean by another girl to rule with you?” 

“I wasn’t clear?” Caspian looked at each of their faces. They were staring at him intently, even Eustace tore his eyes from his book. Caspian’s gaze stuck on Y/N’s, a small smile growing on his lips. “Y/N, I wouldn’t want anyone but you to be my queen.” 

Y/N’s face turned red, all confidence drained from her body and was replaced with shyness. Her? Marry Caspian and become a queen?

“You want to marry me?” 

“Well, of course I want to marry you.”

“What about the princess?”

“Aslan told me to find you, so I doubt he would be bothered with you coming back.” He smiled a toothy grin, his white teeth almost glowing. 

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Y/N. I’m sure. Will you come back to Narnia with me and become my queen?”

Y/N looked at Edmund and Lucy for help, but both just held warm smiles. 

“Alright, yeah, okay. I can do that.”

Caspian smiled and took his soon-to-be-wife into his arms. “Good, because in Narnia I don’t have to wear itchy tweed trousers.” 

#caspian #prince caspian #caspian x reader #king caspian #prince caspian x reader #prince caspian fanfic #prince caspian fanfiction #king caspian x reader #king caspian fanfic #king caspian fanfiction #the chronicles of narnia #the chronicles of narnia fanfic #the chronicles of narnia fanfiction #narnia #c.s. lewis #c. s. lewis #ben barnes

[dramaticwrites]

Mood Rings (6/6)

Title: Mood Rings

Chapter: 5/6

Fandom: DCU

Pairing:  Jason Todd/Roy Harper

AO3:  HERE

Note:  It is done!  Thank you all for your kind words and sticking with it.  

Summary:  

Jason said, pulling his arms behind his back.  “Pick a hand.”

Roy eyed him suspiciously, “You’re not going to punch me are you?”

“Oh my god”  Jason exclaimed exasperated, “why would I punch you?”  His eyes narrowed. “Should I punch you?”

“Where the fuck is he?”  Jason said, bursting through the double doors, turning the heads of a few others in the waiting room.  In any other situation Dick would have been amused by Jason’s dramatics.  But in this case, as the person on the other side of his rage, Dick felt it was the best idea to put his hands up in defence as Jason stormed across the room, leaving muddy footprints across the sterile white floors of the hospital.  It was best in these situations to try not to have security called, mostly because judging by how red Jason’s face was and how white his knuckles were there would be blood and while the hospital is an ideal place to get hurt it wasn’t somewhere you wanted to get thrown out of.

“Breathe,” Dick said as calming as he could.  Wishing this was Tim or Damian that could pull into a great big hug to help.  Again, that might lead to getting stabbed which was not on Dick’s list of things to do that day.  “The doctors all said he is going to be fine.  He has a mild concussion, a few broken ribs and a broken wrist.”

“You were going for lunch.  How did he get into an explosion at lunch?”  Jason said, frustrated, but Dick knew it was more at the situation.  Plus this was the world they lived in, one of the reasons they went out at night to try to make the cities safer.

Dick shrugged.  “It seems like a former employee didn’t like the management.”

“I need to strangle Roy for always pulling this bullshit.  Where is he?”  Jason asked and Dick tried not to smile, mostly because he was pretty sure Jason would start going after him next.

“I don’t actually know, they said they were getting him a room.  I thought it was best to wait for you.”  Dick explained.

Jason groaned, pushing Dick out of his way as he made his way over to the reception desk.  “Do you know how many stupid things Roy can do in that time unsupervised?”  He asked before turning to the nurse at the desk.  “Can you tell me which room Roy Harper is in?  Please.”  He added for good measure.  

The nurse looked him up and down, lowering her glasses as if sizing him up, clearly having seen the scene he made along with the dirt he dragged across her waiting room.  “And you are?”

“His fiance.”  Jason blurted out without a second thought.  She paused but that seemed to be the right thing to say because she gave him the number and pointed down the hall.  To which Jason took off down without missing a beat, leaving Dick standing in the waiting room speechless.

Roy’s room was small, there was an empty bed in the corner of the room.  Jason always hated hospital rooms, he couldn’t really imagine anyone that would actually like them.  But they were a necessary evil, especially in their line of work.  Or in the case of now, Roy being a trouble magnet of the worst kind because apparently the only case he needed was lunch in order to wind up getting hurt.  If Jason didn’t know better he would think Roy did things like this on purpose just to wind him up, but Jason did know Roy better and knew that even Roy had limits to just how much he would do to wind Jason up.

Rubbing his hand over his face, Jason took a seat in the chair pulled up next to the bed.  Taking Roy’s good hand into his he ran his thumb over the back of his hand feeling all the old scars and calluses on his hand from years of wear and work with his bow.

“Jay?”  Roy’s eyes stayed closed as he mumbled the sleep heavy words.  It reminded Jason so much of the few mornings when their alarm would actually go off before they got up and Roy would mutter something while trying to throw his body over Jason’s to keep them in bed just a little bit longer.

Jason squeezed his hand to anchor him.  “Right here.  Go back to sleep you’re going to need your energy for when I murder you when you get home in a few days.”

“K,” Roy mumbled before Jason felt his hand go slack again.  

It ended up being one day later until Roy got home, which was not a moment too soon because once Roy woke up he was hard to keep entertained and in bed.  So as soon as he was cleared of problems Jason was charged with taking Roy home, which Jason was more than happy to do.  After all, he too was already ready to be done with the hospital after the first hour of sitting in the small chair watching reruns of soap operas while Roy slept on and off.  It was much easier when they could both sit on the bed together.  

Roy had been suspiciously quiet since returning home from the hospital, to the point where Jason was starting to wonder if he needed to take Roy back to the hospital.  The breaking point had been when he looked up from the book he was reading to notice Roy was mindlessly flipping through one of the old wedding magazines's Dick had been so unhelpful in donating to Roy.  While it wasn’t odd that Roy was flipping through the magazine, he had been doing it often lately and they did have a lot of pictures which was helpful while he recovered.  What was odd was that fact that Roy was usually loved to share all the stupid and cheesey pictures with Jason trying to get a rise out of him, which he was very good at to a level unmatched by anyone else.  But judging by the point he was in the pages, he hadn’t just started and he had been quiet which was another sign.  

“Do you need to go back to the hospital?”  Jason asked bluntly, already trying to think where he left his keys.  

Roy looked up and tilted his head slightly.  “No.”  He paused thinking for a moment.  “No.  Why?”

Jason pointed at the magazine.  “That.”  

“Are you threatening me?”  Roy asked slowly.  It wasn’t uncommon for Jason to threaten him, he just usually did it in more creative ways.

“What?  No.”  Jason exclaimed with a sigh, getting nowhere.  “It’s just usually you’re always trying to drive me nuts when you read those and wave your ring around like an idiot.”

“Well that’s because I can’t.”  Roy said trying to make it sound like a laugh, but Jason could hear the pull at his words.  But he watched as Roy held up his broken hand, it was then Jason realized that there was no ring on the finger.  “I guess it broke off when I broke my wrist.”

Jason rolled his eyes.  “That’s why people don’t propose with cereal box prizes.”

Roy looked down at his ringless finger.  “Yeah I guess so.  It was fun while it lasted but I guess this means you’re off the hook for the proposal.”

“Finally.”  Jason exclaimed, wishing he could be a bit more excited.  It would have been a lot more victorious if Roy wasn’t trying so hard to keep the smile on his face.  It was moments like this Jason really wished he couldn’t read Roy as well as he could.  “I’m thinking this calls for Victory Burgers, I’ll even buy.  The usually?”

The smile on Roy’s face grew a little less sad.  “Yeah, with extra fries.”  

Jason laughed, “I know to get you extra fries, otherwise you eat half of mine.”

“Yours always taste better.”  Roy said as Jason rolled off the bed.  

“Yeah well you’re an idiot.”  Jason said, too preoccupied with finding his shoes to think of a good retort.  

The burger shop should have only taken a half an hour, but the side detour to the grocery store on the way extended it by a half an hour.  When Jason got home an hour later, Roy had managed to move himself from their bedroom to the couch with the same magazine spread out on his lap.  Jason dropped the burgers on the coffee table, handing Roy’s to him so he wouldn’t have to jostle his ribs too much.  The burger, fries and milkshake seemed to put Roy into a better mood, not that he was too surprised knowing full well a milkshake and waffle cut fries were the way to Roy’s heart.  

After dinner, Jason took the wrappers to the kitchen and dumped them into the trash but also grabbed the two boxes out of his bag.  Putting on in each of his back pocket he walked back to the living room where Roy was sitting.  “So since you have been not an asshole for a whole day I picked you up something while I was out.”

“It better not be more food.”  Roy groaned rubbing his stomach.  “Even I have my limits on food.”

“Its not.”  Jason said, pulling his arms behind his back.  “Pick a hand.”

Roy eyed him suspiciously, “You’re not going to punch me are you?”

“Oh my god”  Jason exclaimed exasperated, “why would I punch you?”  His eyes narrowed.  “Should I punch you?”

“No.”  Roy said quickly.  “You just usually don’t do surprises.”  

“Just pick a hand before I change my mind and punch you.”

Roy thought for a moment before pointing at his right hand.  That seemed to amuse Jason who let out a laughed and brought his hand forward and turned his hand palm up.  Sitting in his hand was a small plastic mood ring that he had to go through three cereal boxes in the car to find.  It was worth it to watch as realization of what was in front of Roy as his face went from cautious to excited to soft to something Jason couldn’t put his finger on as Roy slowly reached out and went and grabbed the ring, placing it on his good hand.

Looking from the ring to Jason, Roy grinned wider than Jason could recall.  “I can’t believe you got me another ring.”

“Yeah well…”  Jason said, unsure what to say next.  “You seemed to miss it.”

“Yeah.  I did.”  Roy agreed, looking down at his ring before looking up at Jason.  “What would I have got if I picked other hand?”  

Jason took a deep breath before holding out a small wooden box, holding it out for Roy.  Roy stared at the box, unsure of what to make for it.  Instead he took it into his hands turning the smooth wood in his hand before noticing the hinges.  As soon as he cracked open the box Roy let out a gasp as he dropped the box quickly as if he had been burned.  Luckily Jason had been there to catch the box and keep it upright so the titanium ring stayed nestled between the red velvet in the box.  The ring wasn’t overly flashy, but it had two small red rubys at the top between an engraved arrow, which Jason couldn’t fully decide if that was cheesy or not.   Judging by the look Roy’s face it wasn’t cheesy at all.  

In fact, Roy looked like he was having trouble breathing, and not just because of his broken ribs.  Instead his eyes kept moving from the box to Jason who looked like he was waiting for his report card.  “What?  I...is that?”  Roy asked, trying to find the words for what he was looking at.  

“Marry me?”  Jason said, followed shortly by, “fuck I was supposed to do that on one knee.”  

Roy grabbed him before he could finish kneeling, and pulled him towards him in a long kiss.  “Fuck yes.”  He muttered against Jason’s lips.  

“Thank god.”  Jason said, reaching out and taking the mood ring off Roy’s hand and replaced it with his new ring. 

Roy held his hand up, watching the way the ring glistened in the light.  “When the hell did you get this done?”  Trying to think of a time recently that Jason could have had time to go out and get a ring designed.  

“About three weeks before I gave you the mood ring.”  Jason said, rubbing his neck trying not to look at Roy who burst out laughing.  “Well I mean I wasn’t sure if you were going to say yes.  I thought it would be a safe way to test if you were interested in a non joking way.”

“You’re an idiot,”  Roy laughed, dragging him in for another kiss.  “But you know this means we actually have to plan a real wedding now.”

Jason groaned.  “Yeah...we don’t have to invite our families right?”

“Of course not.”  Roy placated, knowing there was no way either of their families would let that happen.  “Though we should take a selfie to send to Dick.”

“Do we have to?”  Jason asked.

Roy shrugged.  “I mean it might blow his mind.”  Then he added.  “If you do it, we can go make out like horny teenagers.”  

Jason grabbed his phone.  “You’re the worst.”

“But I’m yours.”  Roy said, placing a kiss on Jason’s cheek as he snapped the picture with his hand held up against his own cheek.

“Yeah yeah...you’re mine.”  Jason said as he sent out the photo to all his contacts with the caption ‘my idiot fiance’ before clicking the phone off knowing that when he turned it on he would have hundreds of messages from just about everyone they knew.  But Roy was smiling at him as he played with the ring on his finger.  Things were never easy with Roy, but even the complicated bullshit and arguing parts were worth it with Roy.  And yeah, there was going to be a huge world wind of their familes, and planning a stupid wedding, and trying to live happily ever that it was going to be a nightmare, but if it meant Jason got to do it with Roy it would at least be slightly less terrible.  There was nobody else Jason would rather spend his life with and has he leaned forward and pressed his lips into Roy’s he hoped his kiss said all of that.  

#Jason Todd #roy harper #jayroy #red arrow #red hood

[star-trekkin-across-theuniverse]

Human Resources, pt1

Word Count: 2551 Summary: Inspired by the nightmare that working HR for SHIELD would be. Anna Ellis is an HR specialist for SHIELD, and after the Battle of New York, is expected to pass basic field competency. Thankfully she has Coulson to help her out. Tags: (strikethroughs mean I can’t tag you?) @supermoonpanda @rayleyanns @sistasarah-sallysaidso @feelmyroarrrr @anyakinamidala @dirajunara @anotherotter @little-study-bug @rampant-salamander @goodnightwife @samaxraph99 @anotherotter  @outside-the-government @kingarthurscat tags are open on this fic - inbox me please!

"Christ, not again. I can't deal with Asgard more than twice in a month." Coulson squeezed the bridge of his nose in a way that made me want to pull him into my arms, and rub his back and make the bad, bad feelings go away. He slipped his phone back into his jacket.

"I don't know, if Thor's going to be popping by, I wouldn't say no to that," I waggled my eyebrows, hoping to get a smile out of him. Coulson rarely bit though, and this wasn't going to be one of those times either, it seemed. He just scowled at me.

"He's got a girlfriend, you know," he reminded me.

"So does Captain America. Doesn't seem to put you off him." I wasn't up for taking sass today, no matter how adorable I thought Coulson was. His jaw dropped and he went back to rubbing the bridge of his nose with a heavy sigh.

"Really? Is that what you think? That I'm suffering from unrequited love for the captain?" He asked.

"Agent Coulson, it's a new world. SHIELD supports a whole rainbow of diversity. It's okay if you have a crush on Captain Rogers," I shrugged.

"I am straight, Ms. Ellis," he ground out. "Not that it should be anyone's business."

"So you're just a fangirl?" I was surprised, and frankly, a little turned on. Coulson didn't have many imperfections, so far as I'd been able to deduce.

"Says the woman who keeps a Thor scrapbook." His response was wry. I blushed.

"How did you know –"

"I make it my business to know about the people I work with," he interrupted.

"Which brings us back to why you are in my office this morning. Personnel files? I need a list, and I need your clearance." I got back to business. Coulson just did not seem to be in a flirting mood. A shame, really. The guy needed to lighten up. He slid the list across my desk, and handed me his ID. I scanned everything quickly, registered his ID and handed it back.

"Those files will be waiting when you get back to your office, Agent Coulson. You could have just forwarded the request by email, you know." I keyed in the release on the files so they would come up on his workstation. He finally smiled.

"What, and miss an opportunity to see your pretty face, Ms. Ellis?" He shook his head, "never."

He turned and walked away from my desk, leaving me slack jawed. I looked over at Erin, my office-mate.

"Did that just happen?" I asked, stunned.

"Did you need to submit a Tony Stark?" She confirmed. Despite SHIELD having a serious and rigorous method of notation for all paperwork, those of us in Human Resources had come up with our own shorthand after getting confused between an A2-336B (Short Term Disability; Hulk Related Incidents) and an A2-336E (Sexual Harassment Report.) The 336B we referred to as the 'Hulk Smash' and the 336E, unsurprisingly, was the 'Tony Stark', as there seemed to be more of that form submitted when he was consulting than at any other time. I laughed.

"I hardly think being called pretty is harassment. If it were, every time Stark came near any of us, we'd be filling out multiples," I responded.

"Remember the time he pinched Jenkins' ass?" Erin dissolved into giggles.

"Was that before or during the sexual harassment in the workplace seminar she was teaching?" I tried not to laugh, but it came out as a snort. It took a certain twisted sense of humour to work in HR, and you had to see the funny side of things when it was appropriate. And laughing at Tony Stark pinching someone's ass during a sexual harassment seminar was definitely appropriate.

"Did it happen before too?" Erin asked, fighting the giggles valiantly.

"Why do you think he was in the seminar?" I retorted. We both fell apart. Maybe you needed to know Jenkins. She was probably Stark's age, but she hadn't aged as gloriously as he had. She looked worn thin. She was a brilliant Human Resources manager, but after a while, it can be too much, and she took a lot of work home. So she was uptight, neurotic and ran a tight ship. She tolerated absolutely no shenanigans, and was quick to write-up even her most favoured employees. In short, no one cared for her. And she dressed to suit the part, looking like an 80-year-old librarian, her mousy hair drawn back in a severe bun at the nape of her neck. I think her glasses might have been from the 80's, as they hadn't come back in style yet. It was generally bad. And when I thought of sexual harassment, regardless of how forward-minded I liked to think of myself, I never would have pegged Jenkins as the one who would become a victim.

Of course, I wouldn't have filed a Tony Stark on Tony Stark for pinching my bum either. I would have broken his fingers and called us square. But I've been told my 'new generation' training made me, and other recent hires like me, significantly different than my older counterparts in HR. They were wedded to the forms. We were trained to think on our feet and respond accordingly, to keep paperwork to a minimum.

"Is that why she took leave, Annie?" Erin asked, gasping for breath. We weren't usually so quick to descend into hysteria, but there was truly something about Jenkins that killed us both.

"Either that or because she just loved me so much she wanted me stuck with the seminars," I complained. I hated running the seminars. The only interesting one was SHIELD orientation. The sexual harassment seminar was only interesting when Stark was forced by Fury to attend, again. And the benefits plan and retirement fund seminar was about as exciting as it sounded. I'd been trying to make it more interesting but I feared that was impossible.

I went for a refill on my coffee to get away from the contagion of Erin's laughter. I knew if I didn't remove myself for at least a few minutes, we would spend the rest of the morning casting sidelong glances at one another and then falling into fits of the giggles again. I was too busy to be so unproductive.

I was making a new pot, silently cursing the jackass who'd taken the last of the coffee, when Agent Jack Jackson walked in and handed me a schedule. I put it down beside the coffee maker and turned to face him, squaring my shoulders. Jack and I had a history, and it wasn't one filled with fluffy bunnies and long-eared puppies, rainbows, kitties, or unicorn farts. We'd dated, with disastrous results, the first year after I'd been hired. He was a good guy, but just too physical and intense. Being with him was like skydiving without knowing if your chute would open. Amazing, and thrilling, and then suddenly terrifying and panic inducing. Our break-up had been harder on me, I think, but even though I was completely over him, we still had a hard time making friendly.

"You should probably look at that, Anna." He pointed at the page. I nodded and finished pouring the water into the coffee maker, turning it on.

"Looks like some sort of schedule. I'll look at it when I get back to my desk," I agreed. He put his hand on my arm.

"You haven't read Fury's memo, have you?" He asked. I quirked an eyebrow, waiting for him to fill me in. He didn't, and instead stared at me in silence.

"Okay, no, I haven't," I admitted.

"You know memos from the director are priority one, Anna," he chastised me.

"Alright, I admit, I'm a terrible employee. Jesus, Jack. Just tell me what the fuck it said if it's so goddamn important that I look at your schedule right now," I snapped. I really needed that coffee.

"Due to the circumstances of the Battle of New York, all SHIELD personnel are required to meet basic field competencies, effective immediately," he read from his clipboard. "That includes non-agent personnel in medical, research and development, and administration."

I dropped my coffee cup. It shattered on the floor between us. Neither of us reacted. I suddenly realized what I'd done and squatted to pick up the shards and toss them in the bin. I retrieved a fresh cup from above the coffee maker, and stared at the coffee maker, willing it to brew faster. I fingered the piece of paper he'd handed me.

"So this schedule?"

"Your training schedule for the following month. We'll be pulling employees from various areas on a weekly basis. You come to us next week, then return for 2 weeks while we train other HR employees. The usual six-week intake training will be condensed into three weeks over the course of two and half months. You might want to buy a good pair of running shoes," he winked. I looked at the schedule and my heart sunk. Running every morning. Target practice. Hand-to-hand training. The classes blurred and I closed my eyes and sighed.

"Why are you delivering the news, Jack?" I asked. He chuckled.

"Well, if you'd read the memo, you would have seen I've been promoted to training specialist for this glorious project. I've forwarded your travel details via email. Please make sure you read it." Jack smirked and walked away. I smothered a frustrated scream and stared at the schedule again, wishing it weren't true.

Erin was just as upset when I returned to the office. She was pacing behind her desk, barefoot, deeply involved in an argument on her blue-tooth headset. I only needed to listen for a minute to know she was trying to get out of the assignment. I sat down and checked my email. Sure enough, as Jack had said, there was a memo from Fury detailing the training plan, and outlining how it was to be administered for least effect on personnel and staffing. I clicked open Jack's email, and opened the attachments. There was a travel manifest, authorizations for travel, medical records request and a request for physical assessment. I sighed and called the medical division.

"Hi, I need to book a physical for today?" I asked when the nurse answered.

"Yeah, you and half the Hub, honey. We're booked solid for today unless you are flying out on Monday to the Academy." She sounded stressed.

"I am," I answered, trying to keep my tone light.

"Okay, we have a couple extra docs flying in right now. If you come down in 45 minutes, I'll prioritize you," She offered. "Your name?"

"Anna Ellis, from HR."

"Awesome. See you in a while." She hung up, leaving me reeling. I looked over to Erin, who'd finally sat down. She was rubbing her temples.

"I can't fucking believe this," Erin mumbled.

"When are you headed out?" I asked, wondering if we'd get to flounder together.

"Week after next. You?" She asked, glaring at the schedule on her desk. I sighed.

"Monday. I'm getting my physical in 45 minutes, and then I'm going to have to knock off for the day because I have no clothes suitable for training, and my runners are about a hundred years old," I complained. "I don't even know if I can run, and it's on this damn schedule twice a day."

"Yay." Erin's tone was so dry, I couldn't help but smile. "I love running so much, I could puke. Let me know where you decide to get your shoes. I'm going to need a pair too."

I finished my coffee and powered down my computer so I could head to medical. It was pandemonium, and I was glad I'd decided to go down early, as it took twenty minutes before I could even find a nurse to say I was there. There were easily sixty people milling about in the waiting room of the infirmary, and I deduced quickly that most of them hadn't thought to call ahead for an appointment, but rather were hoping that if they showed up, they'd get squeezed in. And every single person there was grumbling.

"Ellis!" A woman in a lab coat and black scrub pants called my name. She was holding a tablet, and had a stethoscope slung across the back of her neck. Her hair was piled up in a loose topknot, and she had a pair of dark framed sunglasses holding some loose curly strands off her face. As I approached, I saw that her t-shirt had Captain America's shield on it. I smirked.

"Anna Ellis?" She asked when I was close enough to hear. I nodded. "Dr. Lex Richmond. Let's get you done and ready. I'm sure you've got loads on your plate this afternoon. If you want to step behind that curtain and put on the attractive paper designer gown that is on the exam table, I will be with you in a moment." She smiled, giving me a thorough once over. I closed the curtain to the exam bay and quickly stripped, hopping up on the table when I was ready. Dr. Richmond peeked in and when she saw I was ready, slipped between the break in the curtains.

"Nice shirt," I commented. She flushed.

"Yeah, I wore it this morning to tease Steve. I didn't realize I'd be pulled from New York to run physicals," she admitted.

"Oh! You must be the captain's girlfriend. We were talking about you this morning." I laughed. She gave me a confused look.

"Really? All my HR stuff should be in order. I filed that last form, the 960-4A16, last week," she said.

"No, you came up when I was talking to Agent –" I stopped, realizing she did not have clearance to know Coulson was alive, "Uh, Smith. I don't recall seeing a Pinky and the Brain come through."

"A Pinky and the Brain?" She asked, eyebrow raised. I laughed and shook my head.

"We have special names for the forms. That one is for damages incurred when Dr. Banner and Mr. Stark get up to no good. Pinky and the Brain. Stark would be Pinky. We quite like Bruce in HR. What happened? They blow up your car?" I asked. Dr. Richmond laughed, and pulled the stethoscope from her neck.

"No, it was significantly milder than that, and involved my laundry. Anyhow, as much as I think you would be very fun to spend time chatting with, we have 361 physicals to get done before Monday, so I should get started. This will be pretty basic, it's just to make sure you're healthy." She placed the stethoscope on my back and made me breathe in and out a few times, and then listened to my heart, and made me stand. I let my mind wander as she ran through the exam, until she gestured back at the table.

"Are we done?" I didn't think I'd be daydreaming that long.

"No. Bloodwork and a gyne exam, and then we're done."

"Oh, I can hardly contain myself! You saved the best for last!" It was snarky, I admit.

"Good times, eh?" She asked, and snapped on a pair of gloves.

#avengers fanfic #avengers fanfic with OFC #phil coulson x ofc

[wish4youff]

06 ~ Not Knowing

King

The tenderness in my shoulders and arms disappeared, the cold water eventually causing everything to go numb the longer I stood there. My eyes closed tightly as if I was escaping something by blocking out the image of it. Which may be true considering the fact I was afraid to see the blue veins in my body popping up from the lack of heat it was now receiving. I didn’t want to face the reality that for the third time I had cheated death. My ego should be on a power booster right now, but instead I was more terrified than thrilled. Scared of the possibilities of the next time this challenge presented itself I wouldn’t win. Slamming my hand down on the faucet, the chilling sensation stopped in a matter of seconds. Making me miss it, weirdly enough. Opening the glass door of the shower, I avoided the mirror in front of me. Reaching I grabbed the white towel; wrapping it around my lower half before walking into the bedroom of my suite at Loews Regency. My mind wondered throughout the time I dressed myself in the black Gucci slacks which was paired with a long sleeve black Polo shirt. I dropped some argan oil in my hands before rubbed it through my hair, all awhile I contemplated on my next move. I hate New York, I do. Yet, I find myself here for business and personal visits far too much for my likening.

Fully dressed I headed to the door of the door of my Grand Executive Suite, dropping my room key, phone, and wallet in the designated pockets. The doorman bid me a goodbye once downstairs, politely nodding his head in my direction and thankfully I could master up enough kindness in my soul to acknowledge and wish the same upon him.  The driver of a black Tahoe presented himself to me not a second later, saying the same-ole’ paid greeting before opening the back door of the truck and allowing me to adjust myself inside before closing it and walking back to his side. It took a matter of seconds to pull off into the early afternoon traffic of Midtown, New York.

“Vitale!” The sound of my name, last and probably favorable to the public, caused me to look up and come face to face with Ibrahim. Entering completely into the building from the pat down and search. My credentials got me this far; I shouldn’t be surprised he knew I had arrived. The smile and excitement told me he was genuinely happy to see me. That felt good especially in this business. You never know who’s real and fake. I keep those around me that I’ve known for years bedside by now I know their moves and how they think.

And I’m sure that’s vice versa; especially with my title here.

“What’s good man?”

It had been a few weeks since I last saw him in New York after the murder of Flowers. Of course, we’ve spoken since, he called and told me about the case of Demetrius letting me know that it was indeed a personal love affair conflict. Was it solved? Not so much. Apart from business, Ibrahim had a wedding happening in about four weeks with his long-time college girlfriend Victoria Evans. The main reason I’m here today; he was finally taking the groomsmen to pick out our tuxedos. It feels good to do something normal for a few hours. Tomorrow I was in Atlantic City to do some work before returning the following day to this very same building to speak with the chief here.   “Nothing man. Nothing,” With a quick hug, we both headed inside of his office on the eleventh floor of New York headquarters. “I know this the last place you want to be at. Reminding you of work and shit, but Vick at the house with her momma and friends I figured we’ll just meet up here. Hopefully Bas almost done with his work and we’ll be on the way.” “I’m good, I ain’t getting paid to be here. What’s going on with Vick though? She still deciding on the dress?” “Yes, she said there’s two choices now, honestly, I don’t care. She’ll have on the dress for about two or three hours before she changes to the next one anyway so I’m not even seeing the big deal here.” “Women man. We’ll never understand.” Ibrahim laughed at my words, but I knew deep down how true they were. Never will a man understand women to the smallest details. We’re all built differently, coming from two different worlds. They may be coordinated with one another, but to truly understand the mental mindset; never.  “You ready?” I asked, looking at him from across the other side of the office while he got his things together. “This is big and I know y'all been through thick and thin with one another, but………..I don’t know, man. This shit seems important to every aspect of your life."  "I love her. I’ve been loving her for a long damn time. I can’t see my life going on with just having her as some girlfriend, man. I wake up and it fucks me if she’s not there. I’ve done my share of dirt throughout this relationship as you know, but I can’t see me hurting her anymore. And I can’t see us going on without this title of our love."  "And love is enough? You know, to go forever?"  "I hope so. I mean, there’s loyalty and respect. That ride or die love that keep you going. Faith, trust. All that shit play apart, King."  "And you can’t see yourself without her?”

He grinned when I asked that last question, looking up at me.

“What are you hinting at?"  I don’t even know.  "I’m just thinking about what’s going on. I’m thinking about life man. Mines and everyone’s around me. I’m thinking about my own love life, I’m seeing all this success around me and yet there’s not kind of sense of happiness involved. So, there’s this question that keeps popping up that if you love someone is that enough to marry them and be happy. I’m stressing from figuring out the answer.” “And then you gotta deal with the fact that you’re about to see Chrissie too.” He pointed out, I was specifically trying to leave that out. But nonetheless, yes.  “She’s coming?"  "She RSVP’d a few nights ago. I remember because Vick came in the room, smiling and all teary-eyed and shit,” I nodded my head at his words. Thinking he was done now. “You said you saw Olivia the last time you were here though. How that go?” “It was cool. She was nice to me, there was no bad blood between us."  "That wasn’t Chris either though."  "Hell no. Chrissie would’ve killed me probably,” By now I could’ve sworn she’ll be forgotten. Or at least so far in my memory that I longer cared about her. Instead it was the opposite. She was controlling me without even being around and the closer we got to this wedding; the more I was on edge. “I fucked up with her. Even I knew I was doing something stupid but I played myself into believing that it was for the best that I spilt ways with her."  "You can have spilt ways all you want Kingston, but until there’s that closure between you two. You’ll always have that bad cloud sitting over you.”

Chrissie

“I like this more though. Look at the colors on this, Chrissie."  My eyes scanned the artificial room me and my sister stood in at the Brooklyn Ikea Store. The multi-colored three hundred dollar 3-Piece Hercules Alon Series was in fact beautiful especially with the set. From what Olivia’s saying, the room that she and Travis chose for his parents stay; there’s no furniture whatsoever. Yet it’s the only room beside their master bedroom which has a walk-in closet and private bathroom. In all, I understand her wanting to dress it up for their liking, but I also don’t want her to do too much. I highly doubt Ikea will allow them a full return after the holidays because this stuff is now unnecessary.  Travis did hand over his debt card to handle all direct charges. He’s made his parents happy thus far. Just as myself and Olivia, he’s the first graduate of his family, going on to become the first Doctor. And even with their five-year age difference he seems like a wholesome person for my sister.  So, I understood her want to be proactive with this decision.

"I love the colors,” I started off with. “Right! It’s perfect.” And she finished it for me, moving on to the front counter. I hope they had some in stock to help soothe her soul.  This has been the fifth store we’ve been to in the past four hours. As much as I love Liv, she will be the death of me. It was slowly counting down to Christmas Eve, and with as much work on my desk at home; I was here with her.  Nonetheless, I had my own reasons.  A few nights ago, I took myself out of misery and tore open the invitation Ibrahim had sent to me through Mike. What I found out was Michael was over six weeks late with giving me the invite. I didn’t know what kept this so long; maybe fearing my reaction, but he did so. This however, only gave us about four weeks to get ourselves ready for the event. And being I haven’t been around the crew in over six years, I needed this prep time.  Olivia also needed to know that she was invited. We both had plus one invites also and I’m sure she’ll ask Travis if he was up for attending the wedding along with her. It took her over ten minutes to come back from the counter after speaking with some of the sale associates. From the smile on her face I knew it had to be something good coming from this. As emotionally detached I seemed, this was important to her, so I was trying to be a good team player.  “What happened?"  "I’m buying the last they have in the store. Plus, it’s twenty percent off so I’m getting a pretty damn good deal for this couch.” “So all you have to do is pay?” “Yeah, but I came over to see if you were okay. I’m starting to think holidays aren’t your thing anymore.” Olivia stated, laughing lightly as if she was trying to lighten the mood.  “I’m good Livia." 

"So, we’re invited? Like invited?"  So, I spilled the beans. Accidentally on purpose. I needed to talk about this to someone sooner than later.  "Yeah. It’s the week of Kingston’s birthday."  "Which is?"  "The twenty-eighth of January is his birthday. The wedding is the twenty-fourth."  "How do you remember his birthday after almost nine years?” Her question was completed left of this topic, yet understanding. “Look, that’s beside the point,” I said, but like always she cut me off.  “When is my birthday?"  "Don’t do this Liv.” “No seriously. When?” “March fifth, Olivia. Nineteen-Ninety-One.” Pleased with my response she slumped down on the couch nearest to her in the living room of she and Travis’, well originally known as Travis’, Upper East Side townhouse.  “Are you down with it?” “I guess so. I’m invited. It’ll be rude to turn down the invite just because of some college bullshit.”

I already RSVP myself, but I decided to keep that to myself for now. “But it’s more than that Chrissie,” Sighing, Olivia looked at me and I could read the intrusive question coming from a mile away. “What happened?” “Kingston has a lot of dark secrets. Shit that I couldn’t dare myself to tell someone without his permission.” And that’s the truth. I rather have that dreadful conversation with him first. 

“You need his permission to speak on how much his presence still bothers you? He sounds controlling.”

“Olivia….” I respond, tired of this already.

“And do you think he still thinks about you as much as you think about him?” “Ouch.” I said, my sensitive emotions took that as some deep shade throwing.  “I’m just asking because if not, maybe you can relax.” "I don’t know Livia. Maybe he does, maybe he doesn’t. The man keeps his distance with me."  "Call him.” She said, picking up her phone before sliding it over to me. Her words came out so easy and claiming. As if it was just that easy. As if it was some bright idea that pop up in her mind. ‘I never talk on the phone, Babygirl. I hate that shit. It’s never as personal as you think.'  God, I remember those words every time the idea has come to mind.  “He won’t answer.” “Try.”

#j. cole ff