#✿┊always there until the end. ( melinda may. )

[yumeka-sxf]

Spy x Family Character Tracker

I'm finally ready to unveil the super nerdy project I've been working on for the past month or so: the Spy x Family Character Tracker!

As for what this project is about, I'm using a Google Sheet to track the prevalence of each character in the Spy x Family manga. I do this by giving 1-3 points to each character based on how often and significantly they appear in each manga chapter. Basically, the more often a character appears, the more points they will get. You can check the actual Google Sheet (link below) for more details. And don't forget to read the "About" tab to understand how everything is calculated!

**Click HERE to view the project in Google Sheets**

Not sure how many other people would be interested in this, but I thought it would be a cool thing to track as the series progresses. Obviously Loid, Anya, and Yor will always be top three, but I'm curious how the other characters' prevalence will play out, especially characters who haven't appeared much yet but seem significant, like Melinda and Shopkeeper.

Some interesting notes:

-When I started working on the project, Loid and Anya were constantly vying for 1st place, but Loid was usually just a bit ahead...until the bus hijacking arc when Anya overtook him, which was helped further by the recent Eden end of term arc.

-Even though Yor has fewer points than Loid, she currently has more 3 point chapters than him.

-Damian currently holds 1st place for most prevalent side character (also helped by the hijacking and end of term arcs). Bond would probably be 4th place overall if he had dialogue.

-I can't believe Ewen and Emile have more points than Franky! But it's mostly due to them appearing in pretty much every Eden chapter, though they usually only get 1 point for those. Franky may have less points, but he has more 3 point chapters!

Just like my story guide project, I'll be updating this Google Sheet every time there's a new chapter. Thankfully I've set it up so most of it will automatically update. I just have to input the characters and points for the new chapter.

Enjoy!

[anika-ann]

Back and Forth - part 3.1

Part 3 - Bounce Back - 1/2

Type: series; agent!reader, inhuman!reader

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader    Word Count: 6000

Chapter summary:  In which there is a Hate on Spectre Day. There's no other explanation.

Series masterlist

Warnings: brief mention of canon-typical violence, mention of A+ godawful parenting and its consequences, issues of self-worth, language

A/N: ALWAYS MIND THE WARNINGS; dividers by @firefly-graphics 💕; moodboard is for the vibes and does not necessarily reflect reader’s appearance

A/N2: So. This was supposed to be one chapter but, to the surprise of no one, it’s not. The first half is to blame, because that was supposed to be mentioned in passing and then it just… spilled out like this. Oops.

Natasha Romanoff was a force to be reckoned with.

Now, that was hardly any news to you; besides her reputation preceding her, you had seen her in training, in action during missions, observing her in an interrogation room from behind a thick glass and sometimes even wishing for the poor bastard at the end of her treatment to get punched as an act of mercy, a relief from the wolf-like smile on her perfectly painted lips and brilliant tongue speaking words that should not have been more effective than physical torture but they were.

Projecting in front of her to save her from catching a bullet did not change how highly you regarded her; and it certainly didn’t make you feel any more like you could compare to her than before. That had never been your goal however; trying would have been just as foolish as try to compare to Agent Melinda May or other legends of the spy world. You had mad respect for Natasha Romanoff’s work, no matter the path she had walked to earn her skillset.

But between her dedication to her friends and her attempts at making you feel at home in the team, you had learned to appreciate her as a person too, trusting her; it was a paradox that exactly that was the part of your perception that changed after the attack. Or, more precisely, after what followed it.

As it turned out, the Avengers did very much care about their own; no surprise there. The Avengers also didn’t sleep on the little intel you had been able to provide and much like you believed, they did suspect a leak from within their own ranks given how advanced and detailed the retrieved research on Steve’s biology was.

They had lunched an internal investigation.

The attack on Natasha on The Avengers’ Day was now believed to be an unfortunate consequence of her being in charge of the very investigation and squeezing information from anyone who even remotely appeared they could be connected to the leak or at least might have the smallest piece of information leading to discovering the mole. The attack was thus linked to the Hydra facility raid – even as the perpetrators appeared to be a pair of hired muscle; in fact, even more so for that.

Natasha Romanoff informed you of all that casually as you were pouring yourself a coffee in the communal kitchen and made the mistake of lingering there to learn more. You only realized the error in your actions as it gradually dawned to you why Natasha told you she herself was conducting the investigation and why she was sitting with you face to face.

Up until that point, you had not been asked questions about the incident with the data retrieval beyond trying to put together as precise of an image of the gathered intel as possible. In fact, no one had questioned your allegiance to SHIELD since you had been graduating the Academy – but you sensed that was about to change.

Something about the feign casualness of Natasha sipping her own coffee as you were seated opposite to her begun to rub you in the worst way possible – and that was when you realized.

“Is this an interrogation then?” you asked, heart pounding as you tried to sound at least a bit like you were joking. Because, certainly, this could not be an interrogation, could it? That would be absurd.

A brief smile that didn’t reach her eyes in the slightest passed over her lips, gaze intent on your face. Reading microexpressions, you realized, your blood running cold.

She couldn’t be serious.

“You tell me, Spectre. Maybe this is what you expected to come at one point or the other. Maybe you already knew that I was the one to take lead on this. Maybe it put you into a tight spot and you realized it was just a matter of time before I’d come and question you – and you knew, like you do now, that I always get the information I want,” she said calmly, a thin layer of ice coating her words as she continued to examine your expression, every minuscule move of your muscles.

You hoped that whatever she read in your body language, she liked. The wild pulsing of your carotid, as your fear spiked along with your heartbeat. Yes; you had witnessed enough to know that she could dissect a person without touching them, reaching for their darkest secrets and retrieving them with a figuratively bloody hand as she ripped them out – she had known quite a few secrets of your own already. And yet. You hoped that your fear was all she could see, because the feeling that slammed into the most was hurt. She could have slapped you, hell she could have dashed the hot coffee to your face and you’d be less stunned.

Did she really think that? That you’d be capable of something like this?

You sat there frozen, hand resting limply by your cup, heart threatening to burst out of your chest. But hey – good news, right? At least they were investigating and they were very thorough about making sure Steve was safe.

Comfort had never felt so cold.

“Maybe you needed a heroic safe to maintain cover,” she continued, titling her head to side a fraction. “And conveniently, if you failed to step in in time, you’d have the person in charge of the internal investigation eliminated.”

The switched inside you flipped without any conscious effort – and perhaps even against in – the fear and hurt was consumed by anger and spite, the lump in your throat turning into a burn.

You didn’t seek gratitude from her, not really – you had indeed only been doing your job yesterday and that was it, no matter Rogers’ initial reaction that had made you feel not only useful but appreciated beyond what you deserved – but hostility and accusations were a touch a bit too far. Especially since hadn’t it been for you, she could have been shot at best and shot dead at worst.

“You’re welcome,” you said flatly, expression free of any emotion at all.

The anger inside you felt empty.

Her expression didn’t change, not even a twitch of her brow – of course it didn’t. This was Black Widow. The legend. The ruthless spy. Perfectly deadly.

“Have you been playing for the other team the whole time you’ve been here? Is the only reason why Steve isn’t dead yet because you caught feelings and can’t bring yourself to do what you’re supposed to now?” she kept questioning and you couldn’t keep the indifferent face anymore – you must have slipped, because you felt like your breath had been knocked out of you.

Forget slaps and burns – those words felt like a stab straight to your gut with a wicked twist of the blade for maximum damage.

It shouldn’t have shocked you, it truly shouldn’t have. But for a second, you felt the suffocating burn of betrayal in your chest expand with every heartbeat, filling your entire being.

You’d been taught better. And yet... Not only implying you were a traitor, but also hitting exactly at the spot of our biggest insecurity – not being good enough at anything – and using the knowledge of your rather complicated relationship with Steve Rogers was the one low blow you hadn’t expected, even from a woman of her reputation, because she had seemed genuinely kind the last time she had mentioned it. She had seemed understanding, caring and invested; and apparently, she was well-aware of that. She read you like a book and used your trust to her advantage. You should have known better and perhaps deep inside, you had anticipated a stab in the back – but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt like son of a bitch.

You hadn’t even begun to be friends, you reminded yourself, so there was no reason to be upset. In addition, she was also being perfectly reasonable, only doing her job; it was only natural she hadn’t treated you in kinder gloves, didn’t pull any punches. Steve was her friend, the best friend of her boyfriend no less. She was only protecting someone she cared for deeply. You knew all these things and yet – it stung.

You leaned on your elbows, hoping your voice was steady and neutral, rather than razor sharp – because she didn’t need to know, didn’t deserve to know, that she had hit exactly where it hurt. And you didn’t need her to evaluate you as unstable on top of clearly suspecting you were a traitor.

“Why don’t you tell me, Romanoff. You seem to know everything,” you whispered, the words burning like acid on your tongue.

It was funny really – it was that, you feeling yourself break from the naïve hope that you could ever be more than just an asset to the team, that had her face slip back into a friendly mask, whatever test she had prepared for you ending. Her hard eyes softened, face relaxing.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’re a traitor. But I have to make sure and get a rise out of everyone either way, to get a good read on whether they could know anything even remotely useful based on their reaction, try to have them remember anything that wouldn’t come up unless when in raw emotion. With everyone,” she repeated slowly, looking straight into your eyes to show she meant every word, a silent apology, “whether they are my friend or not.”

Your smile felt foreign on your lips as you reached for your coffee, sipping at it to neutralize the bile rising in our throat, to fill the hollow in your chest with the bitter taste of the dark warm liquid. You understood. You truly did. You had just been an idiot, even as you hadn’t been fully aware of your hopes until they were crushed.

“It’s okay,” you assured her, rising to your feet and setting the mug down, “with me anyway. But I’m not sure your friends will feel the same way when you ask them.”

You all but registered a flash of what you imagined could be regret as you spun on your heels and walked out, a pit of dread in your stomach. Stupid, stupid, stupid. You had no right to feel wounded.  You have been taught better. Skills. Abilities. Assets. Those mattered; not people. Not in S.H.I.E.L.D., not in the AI. Barely anywhere; Coulson’s team had just been full of unicorns, keeping up the illusion that every individual was worth more than their resumé, the illusion of a loose family.

There was no place of that kind for you in the Avengers team. The fact Tony had gone and protected you was the exception to the rule and you had made the mistake of thinking it was anything but pragmatism. They needed your powers; that was why you had been brought onto the team. The team might have been relatively tight-knit, but granted entry to no outsiders, welcomed no newcomers – not into their own strange family they had grown into.

You shouldn’t have been disappointed; and yet, even as you were aware that all Natasha had done was indeed following protocol, protecting fiercely one of her closest friends at that, it was the blatant use of information she had gained by taking a closer look and trying to make conversation, that allowed her to cut deep. You had been raised well to be aware of this approach and still you committed the error, even if unconsciously, of ignoring one of the few things your parents had tried to drill into you so hard. You shouldn’t be this careless.

Shaking your head at your own naivety, you rounded the corner, telling yourself that the slight shake to your hands was neither rage nor grief; just caffeine overdose, since you had poured a cup from Tony’s pot. You nearly groaned when you noticed the unmistakable tall broad figure walking the very same corridor in the opposite direction. Facing Steve Rogers of all people right now sounded like a thing from nightmares; especially since the moment he spotted you, a peculiar look appeared on his face, the kind of expression that told you a conversation awaited you which you’d very much rather not have. You swore that if he was going to have a single thing to say about yesterday, if he was about criticise you at least, to ask you anything at all-

You weren’t proud of it, but you did it anyway. Pulling out your phone from the back pocket of your jeans, you pretended you had felt it vibrate with a text, fully immersed in whatever was on your screen. You barely looked up when you were three steps from him, but nodded with the respect a man of Captain Rogers’ standing deserved regardless of anyone’s personal opinion on him, the ‘Captain’ firm on your lips as a formal greeting you hoped was all you were going to exchange. He returned the courtesy, sounding all but a little taken aback, and – thank heavens – continued walking past you. You gritted your teeth as not to release a relieved breath you were certain he’d hear.

Whirlwind of emotion pushed aside by suffocating emptiness, you continued your path and headed to your room, deciding breakfast simply wasn’t in the cards for your today. As you entered the familiar space, your gaze fell on the gym clothes you had tossed over one of your chairs yesterday when you needed to release the pressure after being tense ever since the attack.

Releasing tension now felt like a good idea, as the sting of betrayal and self-loathing simmered in your ribcage despite your attempts to make it all go away.

Without a second thought, you grabbed after it, ready to loosen the messy bundle of emotion the only way you were ever allowed.

By punching it out.  

The scent of leather and sweat had been bringing you an odd sense of comfort since your rather early age. Even as it was associated with heavy breaths, soaked t-shirts, competitiveness and shouts of various trainers you had encountered over the years, it was also an epitome of solace and familiarity; a reminder that you could always improve and you had done that more than once. It was a sanctuary to broken shards of a soul, where one let all the nasty things buried inside tear the body apart, only to feel like they started to build yourself up again. You had learned a long time ago that fighting was far from being about rage or any other wild emotion; but if one got the flow right, they could release all the suffocating emotions through it either way until peace – relative peace at least – took over again.

So after exhausting your body almost to its limit, you moved onto your mind; after kicking and punching and sweating through your clothes, you cooled down, stretched, and sat down cross-legged only to do it all over again. This time through your spectre.

The quiet gym was an unusual luxury, making for an easy projection and making it almost laughably easy to maintain it; you had tested it in training before, keeping focus even as your fellow agents shoved you around or even punched your gut – or in Daisy’s case, sent quaking vibrations through your body with increasing intensity, enough to almost rattle your bones. You were aware of the sensations, always, naturally seeing its benefit as a fail safe in whoever was in charge of protecting you failed to do so – not that Mr. Captain America had that problem. But at the same time, pushing the limits of how much you could take in case of such complications and in the face of needing to hold on despite of it was essential – as much as being able to take a hit to your spectral body without losing focus was.   

It took time, but it had become a second nature to perceive sensations from both your bodies, recognizing which came from which and separating them. The real trial, the most surreal feeling which took some time getting used to was seeing yourself and touching your actual hand with your spectral one, simultaneously being the initiator of the sensation and its receiver on the very same part of your body. The first time you tried it, it knocked you out for over half an hour, your brain unable to handle the contradiction. However long path you still had to walk to perfect your skills, you remembered that handling this one had been a win and eventually, the sight of yourself and the touch turned almost mundane.

However, others didn’t feel that way.

The visual of Tony Stark entering the gym, gaze flickering between your sitting form and your punching form several feet away from each other, as if he couldn’t decide which one to address despite only one of them levitating and emitting a faint glow, brought a sad ghost of a smile to your face, renewing the tense feeling in your gut you tried so hard to punch and kick away. Usually, you couldn’t help it; perhaps it was mean, but the bewildered, and admiring look in people’s eyes, was not only pleasing but also entirely hilarious. But today, the satisfaction wasn’t coming – and unfortunately, Stark approached your very conscious version.

Couldn’t the world just leave you alone for a bit? You were alone; you’d appreciate if the number of people in the room reflected the reality of your life.

“What did that poor bag did to you?” he lamented as you caught a glimpse of his frown and pursed lips between focusing on every hit to the heavy bag. “You hit it any harder, you’re gonna rip it off the hinges like Cap does.”

Right. For sure.

You swallowed the scoff threatening to escape you, gritting your teeth as your punch landed even stronger than intended, sending painful vibration through your arm. You added a knee and an elbow, speeding up to distract yourself form the sensation.

Focused on your workout, you couldn’t see his raised eyebrow; but you could definitely hear it in his annoyed and slightly amused voice.

“Same attitude too, I see.”

This time, you did scoff as you continued punching. Yeah, right. You and Steve were practically twins now, weren’t you.

“Too bad, Casper, you are not getting away with ignoring me,” he insisted, peeking from behind the bag on your left. “Cease fire for a sec.”

You kicked hard with a loud huff, making the bag swing wildly, catching it with your hands as it returned to hit you in the face and only then dropped your hands, turning to Tony.

Despite your rudeness – one he didn’t quite deserve, you reminded yourself guiltily – you found him grinning at you as you paid him attention at last. It only made you frown. He seemed too gleeful to be a bearer of bad news – but way too gleeful to bring any news that would be good for you.

“Pick up your Sunday shoes, Casper. You’re going out tomorrow!”

You sighed, already feeling the wholesome effects of your workout evaporating. “Hello to you too. What on Earth are you talking about?”

Given the mischief in his eye, you felt like you should be worried – and yet, despite your better judgement, you felt a small smile tug at your lips at his antics.

That said, if he had set you up for a blind date or something of that sort – because you wouldn’t put it past him if he did that – you’d be out before you could get in. But the fact that he simply announced that you were going out couldn’t mean anything good. Why didn’t he ask? Because Tony Stark, you thought, as bitterly as affectionately.  

He waved his hand in a too innocent greeting, pulling out a light blue envelope with golden framing from his hoodie pocket.

“Hi. This is yours. You mind?” he hummed as he beckoned to your paraconscious body, already throwing the paper its way.

With a sigh, you snapped back just as the envelope landed in your lap, ignoring the low thud of your boxing gloves hitting the mattress since you couldn’t take them back with you and they suddenly didn’t have anything to hold them up. You pushed yourself to your feet, ignoring the slight sway of the world as you suddenly changed both body and positions, turning the envelope in your hands with a frown and an unpleasant feeling of anticipation in your gut.

“Tony… what is this?”

“An invitation.”

“Right.” Knowing there was no scenario in which you’d get away with never opening it, in which he’d leave before you did so, you slipped your fingers under the edge and tore it open. Fancy paper, you observed. As your eyes quickly scanned over the text, Tony spoke up again.

“Shake hands, rub elbows. Make the Avengers look good. Have a drink or two.”

You frowned. The words Tony Stark was stringing together made perfect sense individually, but not together. Then, they made sense together and then even more sense in connection to the invite. But none of that made them make sense in connection to you.

“A charity auction at the Smithsonian?” you asked dully, voice full of the scepticism you felt upon imagining yourself doing what he had suggested, parroting his words dubiously. “Me, making the Avengers look good? I’m not even a--- Stark, what the-“

“Please,” he cut you off with a scoff, “you literally saved Natasha’ ass and several kids, very publicly, just yesterday. Plus, me and Pepper can’t make it and everyone else is either on a mission or has already said no.”

You perked up in an instant. Could you say no then?

“No, you can’t say no, nope,” Tony blurted out before you could even open your mouth. You glanced down at the invite again. The last thing you wanted right now, or ever, to be honest, was to go to some stupid function, meeting arrogant wealthy and sadly influential assholes with a fake smile on their face, one that held even as they insulted your choice of wardrobe in a way you couldn’t really return because they had the power to make your life a living hell. “It’s your mission now, no veto rights.”

You resisted the urge to stomp your foot and whine; but for a very good reason. Many, many good reasons. You genuinely despised those thighs, hating them on a visceral level. You could survive them if there was an important mission objective like gathering intel that could save countless lives, securing a sample of a virus and preventing a global pandemic, locking up an arms dealer – but socializing? Networking? Useless chitchat with pretentious jerks? Bootlicking? Because that was what awaited you, whether you were representing the Avengers or not – which itself truly was an absurd concept.

You ran a hand down your face, skimming over the text once more, resigned.

Much like there hadn’t been a scenario in which Tony would leave before you’d listen to what he had had to say, there was no way you’d get away with not attending.

“Couldn’t they have at least hold it at the NYC building? Does it have to be DC?” you muttered under your breath, annoyed further. That meant flying and many complications in case you’d try to pull an early disappearing act.

“Yeah, one of the reasons why the others said no. The disgrace of these people – a free ride on the quinjet with a pilot assigned and they still scoff at this. Heathens. If you weren’t hiding out, I’d stumble over you earlier and the can’t-say-no would fall on someone else, but here we are. I mean honestly, who would think finding two people willing to go drink expensive champagne could be such an issue?”

Your head snapped up to his face, horror and relief seizing you at once. You wouldn’t be alone; then again, you wouldn’t be alone.

You really wanted to call Tony on his bullshit about finding you last, because if he found you last, it was because he asked FRIDAY about you as the last, but your whole brain capacity was overtaken by a single thought and a prayer to heavens. You weren’t sure whom you’d want as a company, but you still prayed it was someone bearable.

“Two people? Who’s the other one?”

Please let it be Wilson. You were sure he’d feel almost as uncomfortable as you. Rhodes too, even though he was good at politics and would snatch all the attention to himself. You doubted Vision or Wanda were the ones and you could hardly imagine one without the other; similarly, you doubted Barnes, with his past still lingering in the minds of many, had been chosen, and even if he had, you doubted he would go without Romanoff. Thor was off to Asgard, Banner would be, bless him, probably even more distressed than you, and Tony and Pepper were literally the ones handing over the invitation. Clint could be a nice option – you didn’t talk much, but his easy-going nature would probably make for a good company. Honestly, probably anyone would be better than-

“Capsicle, obviously, they love the guy. Have a big exhibition on him and all that,” Tony said as if it was clear as day and as if that didn’t make him sound like a lunatic. And as if that didn’t send your heart racing like mad, eyes widening, throat tightening.

Headache started to build in above your brows as you imaged the horror-like scene. As if the function itself wasn’t bad enough – Tony wanted to make you suffer through it with the one person from the Avengers whom you fought the most often?

Tony was, naturally, completely blind to your reaction – or more likely, pretended to be, because he might be an owner of what kids these days called a galaxy brain, but he was two halves of a whole genius – continuing his monologue at the speed of three hundred miles a minute.

“…and he’s good at rubbing elbows, even if he hates it. So, focus, my dear Ghost of Christmas Past,” he snapped his fingers in front of your face, only to start counting on his fingers. Mutely, you watched him, still hoping this was a very badly constructed prank. “Make us look good, look good, buy something nice on my card in the auction and try not to kill each other. Easy as American pie. All four objectives of the mission are equally important by the way… I think.”

“Tony…”

That was all you manged to force out, a disapproval and a plea.

“What?! You shouldn’t have been hiding in a gym! I’m innocent!”

You were not impressed with his antics in the slightest. It was a Hate on Spectre Day, you were sure. First Romanoff with her accusations about Steve, then Tony-

Oh. Oh thank god.

It was blasphemy to be grateful for such thing, but you were not picky about your salvations as an important thought occurred to you – a fairly reasonable one at that, one that didn’t only serve as a convenient excuse.

“Are you sure it’s a good idea for Steve to make a public appearance like that?” you questioned. “I know he made a public appearance just yesterday, but that was different. We’re still… working out how to deal with the Hydra cell and their antiserum. The investigation is still active and pretty intensive at the moment as far as I can tell.”

No kidding.

Tony’s eyebrows shot up, something akin to compassion appearing on his face, probably in reaction to something that you involuntarily let show on yours. Fuck.

“Ah. Got bitten by Black Widow, huh? It stings, doesn’t it?” he said, scrunching his nose and almost shocking you speechless.

You were slacking if Tony, living in his own world for at least eighty percent of the time, with his mind usually lightyears away from where a conversation had originally started, read you so easily.

That, or he watched the footage, perhaps even with Natasha herself, to evaluate whether you were indeed a mole or not. Was this another test? Was Natasha the proverbial bad cop and Tony landed the role of a good cop? Were you supposed to open up to him? The thought of Tony playing you like this was somehow even more nauseating than Natasha’s game had been. With her, you should have seen it coming; with Mr.I Don’t Need to Watch My Mouth, not so much. He was direct. He spoke his mind, always. You liked that about him. Or used to.

What would he know about Black Widow’s verbal bites?

“Like you’d know.”

One of his brows creased, lips curled by a smirk full of snark.

“What, you think the original six was spared? Please.”

Despite yourself, you blinked and perked up. Because Tony seemed honest – much like most of the time, frankly.

“Rogers was the only one who wasn’t questioned by Romanoff – or in her case, by Barnes – though some of us might argue that when it comes to saving his dumb ass, Rogers’s the one most willing to serve it to HYDRA himself on a silver platter.” He paused, a grimace twisting his features. “That was a weird imagery, forget I used those exact words.”

A tiny smile tugged at your lips. Tony was hard to stay mad at if he did something relatively harmless like this – he was direct and slightly chaotic, but that was just part of his charm, one might say. And honestly, since you trusted him that he had spoken the truth, the fact that Natasha had gone down at everyone as hard as she had on you, learning that you weren’t the only one under scrutiny did make you feel a bit better. Though for a brief moment, you allowed yourself the luxury of questioning the reliability of Barnes interrogating Romanoff and vice versa, given their enormous bias. How had the mutual interrogation even happened? What, did they just hold a knife to each other’s throat instead of a foreplay?

You shook your head at yourself, earning a grin from Tony as he probably assumed you reacted to his antics. He wasn’t completely wrong.

Leaning onto his wannabe-friendly behaviour had a strong scent of fool me once, since you had literally had got burned today, but it was hard to resist it despite all the rational voices in your head screaming. You were an asset. You had a mission and that was it – and protecting this team was a big part of it. Tony did make an excellent point when it came to Steve’s tendency to overlook the magnitude of threats posed to him. Which had you go full circle – that besides pairing you and Steve off for a public appearance was an awful, terrible, no good, very bad idea, it was almost as bad of an idea as sending Steve out there in the first place.

“I still think letting him do this is too risky. I’ll go, even if I’m going to curse you the entire time,” you noted matter-of-factly, “but honestly. I think Steve really shouldn’t go.”

If it was possible, Tony's face lit up further, much to your chagrin.

 “Aww, are you worried about him?” he teased you. You deadpanned. “Kidding. Relax, Spectre, it’s a museum, not an underground casino. And it’s a charity auction, not an arm deals convention, those are more up my speed. There are no suspicious names on the guest list, FRIDAY doublechecked. The most dangerous people there will be you and him.”

You breathed in to protest further, because one, he was literally just giving out his invitation to someone dangerous, which other people could do as well, and two, there were still so many crazy things about what he was suggesting and your stomach was in knots just trying to imagine it-

A quick clap of hands startled you, Tony’s hands suddenly palms up.

“Alright, great, thank you for accepting. It’s settled then-“

Your horror returned, mouth opening uselessly as he began to walk back, still facing you. “I didn’t-“

“Oh and it’s only black tie, but you should still buy something nice,” he continued, smiling conspiratorially as if he was sharing an inside joke you were supposed to be a part of but did not understand one bit, except for feeling like you were the subject of it.

“Tony-“

“’cause representation and all that. And don’t worry about the cost, ‘cause it’s on the Avengers, so in fact, go wild, Cinderella. I gotta run now-“

He cut off his wild gestures with another clap of his hands to drown the sound of you calling out his name, the stupid invite still in your hands, feet frozen to the ground when the automatic door opened behind him and he spun on his heels, walking out.

“But Stark!”

He was already gone.

You massaged your forehead and the skin above your eyebrows as your headache grew, your shoulders sagging. You eyed the invitation with distaste, inspecting it as if it could burst in flames any second; that was how nuclear you felt the evening might get, for multiple reasons.

Oh. Speaking of the invitation going up in flames, perhaps the museum would require the actual paper rather than an e-invite. Fire might be the best possible solution for-

The sudden voice sounding from the speaker cut off your inner musings, and crushed your hopes, fuelling your anxiety in the process.

“Agent Spectre, Mr.Stark wants me to inform you that the charity auction is assigned to you as any other mission and not participating would thus be considered a serious breach of regulations and a breach of your contract with the Avengers Initiative, which would result in corresponding disciplinary action.”

You scowled, tossing the envelope and its content aside. Low blow, Stark. Really, really fucking low blow.

“Bastard,” you muttered under your breath.

“And that his explicit orders, as he is one of your superiors, are to, I quote, have fun,” FRIDAY added, causing you to roll your eyes and look at the ceiling as if your glare and your next words dripping with sarcasm could be delivered to Tony himself. Which they could – they just wouldn’t have the desired effect, you were sure.

“Gee, Stark, thanks. I’m sure I will.” Not.

Grabbing your gear with a sigh coming from the very depth of your soul, suddenly tired despite the clock claiming it was still before noon, you tried to steer your mind away from the tight feeling in your gut.

The one upside was that your mission might be to have fun and rub figurative elbows, but one never knew when he needed to use actual elbows to punch someone in the face in your line of work.

That meant that if you were to follow Stark’s explicit orders, you should get yourself a special dress for the occasion – something at least black-tie worthy. But you were truly about to spend a public evening with Steve, who would be putting himself into nonsensical danger by merely showing up, you needed a sensible dress. Long enough to have it pass as fitting for the dress code, but with a slit high enough to not limit your range of movement if you needed to kick out or run. Nothing too revealing, because you’d rather not worry about your cleavage if you were about to punch and duck. Shoes would be a pain – heels were a necessary evil, but you’d need to dig up some with thick straps at least, to feel like you were actually wearing them and not like you were trying to keep them on by the sheer power of your will with every step.

It seemed you had some shopping to do. If Tony was so inclined on you to follow his orders, you would. You would go wild with his credit card indeed. And because you had a glutton for punishment, you tried to contact a distant ally to help you with that, even as you doubted that she’d have time to answer.

Next chapter

Series masterlist // S.R. masterlist

Yeeeeah, I know that I promised you a bit of trip to fluffville as well, but it’s only coming in the second half… then again, the moment with Tony was kinda sweet too, no?

Happy New Year, loves 💕 May it be kind to you ✨

[mrsbuckybarnes1917]

FINDING YOU Chapter 4

Summary: You're in a relationship with Steve Rogers, but his best friend just always seems to be around!

Word Count: 4.1K

Warnings: angst

MASTERLIST

CHAPTER 4

The murky morning light barely permeated the drawn curtains as your eyes opened to your phone alarm. Steve's place was empty beside you, he had gone for his morning run and let you sleep in. You were glad, it had been a late night and you were struggling to get up as it was. The sound of wind and rain pounded on the glass and a chill crept through your spine as you eventually threw back the covers. You sighed, it looked like it was going to be a rather gloomy day.

Steve hadn't made it home before you needed to leave and Bucky was nowhere to be seen. A pang of loneliness stabbed your heart and you tried to shake off the ridiculous feeling. You had no reason to feel that way, you had a wonderful boyfriend who loved you and a secondhand best friend who continued to keep you at arm's length, but had a strangely comforting presence in your life. So you shook off the insecurities and set up the coffeepot for them to use when they got home. 

The morning seemed to plod along as a series of mundane lessons, the kids in your classes seemed just as apathetic as you felt that morning. So instead of micromanaging their activities, you let them run wild with their training. At least you had lunch with May to look forward to, her pragmatic approach to life would shake you out of the Monday slump you were in.

You were imagining just how she'd roll her eyes and glare at you until you had forgotten about your problems. Head in the clouds you almost ran face first into Agent May.

"Hey!" you smiled at your friend and colleague. 

"Come," she turned on her heel and marched off in the opposite direction from where you'd come.

You sighed. This wasn't going to be good.

"Where're we going?" you asked. "May?"

Melinda May ignored you, and kept walking. And like the good agent you were, you followed orders. She led you to her car and got in. 

"Are you going to tell me what's going on?" you asked, sliding into the passenger seat.

She started the ignition and pulled out of the car park.

"May, you're scaring me. What is going on?" You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, the anxiety bubbling up, just waiting to boil over as you demanded an answer. 

You studied May's impassive features,  watching her open and close her mouth a few times, trying to find the words. "There was an… incident."

"What kind of incident?" You felt exasperated by her lack of clarity. 

"We found a time jumper."

"Ooo…kay? And how exactly does this affect me?"

"It's Peggy Carter."

May's words rang in your ear like an exploded bomb. It felt like your whole world had slowed down, your heart sounded louder than you'd ever heard it, your mouth went dry and you couldn't focus on the road in front of you.

You hardly registered May calling your name or the short lived hand on your shoulder. The transference of your emotions from you made her withdraw sharply.

Thoughts whirled around your brain like a tornado. How did this happen? Why did it happen? Why was she here? Was there another end of the world catastrophe that needed to be dealt with? In the end, none of those questions mattered. You knew one thing was certain, you'd just lost the man you loved. 

You heard your name again.

"Yeah?" you turned to face May, eyes taking in your familiar surroundings. She had pulled up outside your apartment building. "Why are we here? 

"Peggy is asking for him," she said, softly.

"So you brought me here because…?" 

"I thought you should tell him."

You scoffed. "Gee, thanks. What do you expect me to do? Go and tell him that the love of his life is back and that he can have her?" You sounded slightly hysterical and tears had filled your eyes.

May's stoic expression remained unchanged, but her eyes betrayed her sympathy.

"I assume he is upstairs?"

"Yeah," you sighed.

Reluctantly you climbed out of the SUV and trudged up the stairs to your second floor apartment. You paused at the door, steeling yourself to the inevitable conversation once you'd entered. The key slid in and turned with ease and the door swung open without you even trying.

"Steve?"

"Ace? What're you doing home?"

You opened your mouth to answer but no sound came out. As soon as you told him everything would change, was it wrong of you to cling on to those last fleeting moments of happiness? You walked over to where Steve was washing dishes. 

The urge to break down and let him hold you was overwhelming. The blonde had the warmest, most comforting embrace and you wanted nothing more to be consoled by the one person who was about to break your heart.

"Ace?" Steve's look was concerned.

"Yeah?" You pushed back the tears.

"Everything OK?"

"Yeah." You made a show of taking off your jacket and putting it on a chair so you could hide your face. It was annoying how easily he could read your emotions.

"Give me a minute, I'm almost done with this."

You couldn't wait, you didn't want to. It was much easier to wrap your arms around his waist and bury your face between his shoulder blades. So you did just that. The heat he emanated, his strong steadfast sturdiness is what you clung to.

Steve dried his hands and wrapped his fingers around your wrists. Gently he pried your finger apart and turned around to face you. 

"Talk to me Ace, why are you home in the middle of the day?"

You shrugged, "I wanted to see you?"

"Now why don't I believe that?"

"OK, but I need you to do one thing before I tell you."

"Ace, what is it?" Concern was etched across his face.

"I just need one thing from you first."

"What do you want?"

"Kiss me," you whispered.

"What?" Steve was astounded by your request. 

"Kiss me, please?" You wished you didn't sound so desperate. 

He complied with your request, leaning down he placed a quick peck on your lips. 

"No, Steve. Kiss me like you mean it."

"I always mean it, Ace."

"Then show me."

Steve wanted to demand a reason for your behavior from you but he knew you could be just as stubborn as he was. It was easier to give you what you wanted. Not that it was a difficult request.

He bent forwards again, locking his lips with yours and you closed your eyes to take in every sensation, committing it to memory; the pressure, their texture, how soft they felt against yours. The eternity you wanted to be lost in was over in mere seconds. Steve’s hands lingered on your face, his thumbs caressed your cheeks for a little longer, leaving you with a gentle forehead kiss. 

“Ace?”

You held his hands to your face, hoping he would never let go.

“Hey, talk to me,” his voice was low, as though he was talking to a scared animal.

That’s how you felt, skittish and ready to run with the slightest movement. Instead you took a deep breath and broke away from the perfect bubble you’d wrapped yourself in. You took his hands from your face and led Steve to the couch.

“Let’s sit for a bit.”

Steve sat beside you, your knees touching, your hands wrapped around his. He watched you expectantly.

“Steve… you remember how you were able to time travel?”

Steve nodded and you heard yourself continue to speak, almost like you were watching someone else.

“Well that’s not the only method of time travel. We’ve had someone who has traveled here from the past. Someone you know.”

Steve frowned quizzically at you.

“Peggy.” Your voice was barely audible.

It was slow, but you could feel him pulling his hands from yours. Your doubts, your fears, your worries, every single one of them had been confirmed at that moment.

“Are you sure?” The hope in his voice felt like a knife through your heart.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “May told me.”

“Where is she?”

“S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters.”

Steve stood up, he looked like a deer in headlights, not knowing what to do next. He was looking at you but you knew he didn’t see you.

“Steve?”

“Yeah?” 

“May's waiting in the car.” You heard yourself say the words, all the while a voice inside you was telling you to shut the hell up. Instead you put a hand on his back and guided him to the front door. “Let’s go.”

The car ride to the new S.H.I.E.L.D headquarters was deadly silent. It wasn't that you were a stranger to silence, you'd spent enough quiet time with both people in the car in the past, but today was different. May was driving, her grip on the steering wheel was more tense than usual and you knew her empath powers could sense both your emotions and Steve's. 

You cast your eyes across to the side mirror where you could see Steve's reflection in the back seat. He was staring out of his window and though his eyes were open, he looked like he was lost so far in his thoughts that you'd never find him again. Steve had always been a pensive soul and there had been many occasions where he'd float away to a place you couldn't follow.

What was he feeling? Steve had always kept his cards close to his chest but you'd thought he had let some of his guard down around you in the last year. But the man who sat behind you was much more like the closed off person you'd met all those months ago. You'd spent so much time peeling back the layers of thick skin, coaxing him out of the shell he'd built around him, only for the barriers to go back up in mere moments. 

You tried to put yourself in his shoes and exercise some of that empathy you were supposed to have. What would it be like to have someone you'd loved in the past come back to the present? Someone who had been ripped away from you, someone you'd never stopped loving. The feeling of tightness in your chest worsened. Empathy didn't feel like a helpful skill to utilize at this moment in time. You looked back at Steve in the mirror, wanting to wrap your arms around him and hold him closely until the anguish left his beautiful features.

This line of thought got you wondering about Peggy Carter. She was the founder of the organization you had worked for, she’d accomplished so many incredible things and had done so at a time where women got even less respect than they do in the present. You hated yourself for comparing your own achievements to that of another woman, but the overwhelming feeling of inadequacy was crushing. In your heart of hearts, you knew that your relationship was over but you were looking for a way for it all to hurt less. What chance did you have against the legendary Agent Carter?

Directing your resentment at Peggy would be the simplest solution, but the logical part of your brain strongly advocated her innocence. You wanted to hate her, the person you had held in such high regard, almost worshiped prior to this day. Did you dare fight for him? You’d heard the tales of their romance and you knew he still kept an old compass with her photograph in the cover. You’d found it once at the back of his sock drawer. How could you even compete? He had previously confessed that the only reason he had stayed with S.H.I.E.L.D. was because of her association with it. 

Did you know him as well as you thought you did? Steve was a man of few words, but what he lacked in language use, he often made up for with small acts of service. One of your favorite things that he would often do, without you even realizing when he had done it, was fill your car with gas. It was never empty! He’d make small sketches and leave them on your bedside table for you to find when you woke up, or would slip them in your bag for you to find at work. They were often accompanied by a quote or poem which warmed your heart and brought a smile to your face. It was often little things which made you happiest and to you it counted more than larger romantic gestures which were few and far between. He made you feel comfortable in a way that no one else had and you thought you were special to him. 

Sam had often regaled you with tales of their old exploits, saving Bucky from his HYDRA tormentors, the feud over the Sokovia Accords and so many others. You recalled a fond memory of you, Steve and Bucky visiting him in Delacroix, where you’d ended up spending most of your time helping him fix the family’s fishing boat and it almost made you smile. Steve gave his time often and freely to people he cared about. But he did the same for strangers too. He was willing to lay down his life for people he barely knew or had never met. Did that lessen his feelings for you? In the past you would have said no, but the crippling anxiety you sometimes felt was rearing its ugly head.

The emotions and thoughts swirled around inside you, threatening to erupt like a volcano, waiting to leave disaster in their wake. Just when you thought you couldn’t cope with sitting in the SUV any longer and May pulled up in front of your destination. Every movement you made after that felt like you were submerged under water, every step you craved oxygen, but wave after wave pushed you further down. You tried to claw your way to the surface, but you were met with paralyzing resistance, your anguish weighing you down like an anchor, suffocating your very essence. You watched the events unfold through the lenses of frosted glass; entering the building, watching Peggy run towards him, the way he wrapped his arms around her. He didn’t look away, he didn’t look back.

It was excruciating and yet you watched. You watched until you couldn’t. Then you waited. What if he needed you?

At the end of the day, May took your arm and guided you out of the facility. She didn’t drive you home, instead she drove to her house. You’d often suggested that the two of you should live together after you’d left S.H.I.E.L.D. but May had vetoed the idea with a look of pure disgust. But if you’d never moved into your apartment, you’d never have met Steve. 

“Do you need help?” you asked. Standing nervously at the breakfast bar watching May move around the kitchen.

“Yeah, make dinner.” She handed you a knife and you standing alone in the kitchen.

One skill that May had never mastered was the art of cooking. You were happy to start slicing and dicing vegetables, trying not to let the knife accidently take off your finger tip as you vehemently attacked the innocent onions. You’d reached the stage of throwing food into hot oil when May returned, with a ridiculously large glass of your favorite wine. 

“Wine, really?”

“What were you expecting?”

“To be honest, a sparring session.”

“Easily arranged. But no physical contact, I’m not in the mood to deal with your emotions today.”

“That makes two of us.”

“You’d prefer I get drunk and you get high from that?”

“You remember that alcohol is a depressant, miss M.D?” she said dryly.

You glared at your friend before taking an unnecessarily large mouthful of wine. Even though May had little time for comforting others, she cared deeply for you, something you had once doubted. You were very grateful for her friendship and the support she was currently giving you. It was the small act of kindness which tipped you over the edge. Tears welled up in your eyes, spilling over drop by drop.

“What do you think he's going to do?” you whispered, your lip quivering dangerously.

“Does it matter what I think?”

“He isn’t going to stay with me.”

“He doesn’t deserve you.”

“You think Captain America isn’t good enough for me?” you asked skeptically.

“No.”

“Is anyone?”

May shrugged.

“But I want him,” you sniffled.

Even as the words left your mouth you felt pathetic and desperate. He had never stopped loving her. The voice in your head scolded you for ignoring the fact that you were the one he had settled with. It was your fault for wanting to be special. 

Your mind wandered back to the weekend you’d spent with Steve and the baseball game you’d taken him to. It was one of your best memories with him. The joy on his face throughout the game had warmed your heart. You didn’t know a thing about baseball, nor did you care to and it held not a single iota of interest for you. But just because you didn’t understand it or find it interesting, you understood why people could be passionate about a sport. That passion was one of the reasons you’d fell in love with Steve when you’d met him.

That was when you felt like Steve had really opened himself to you. It wasn’t the sex, it wasn’t the words he had used, it wasn’t the way he had said ‘I love you’. It had been the moment he had let himself be vulnerable with you. Steve didn’t talk about his fears to anyone, except maybe Bucky. He was a very reserved individual with strong morals and being given the mantle of Captain America had given him an even bigger reason to uphold an image of strength. It wasn’t an easy responsibility to shoulder and it clearly weighed on him a great deal. Everyone needs someone who they could share their burdens with.

Bucky Barnes was Steve’s best friend, they had a number of shared experiences, he would have been the natural choice to be Steve’s confidant. Except Steve now spent most of his time and energy taking care of the broken supersoldier. It made you feel special, to think that you were the one he had chosen to take care of him, to be his partner, to be worthy of his love. But now you had lost it all.

Dinner was a somber affair following which you curled up on May’s couch. Sleep didn’t come until the early hours of the morning when the tears finally stopped falling.

The coming days were spent hiding out at May’s. Steve tried to call you a number of times but you couldn’t bring yourself to face the situation. You knew you had to go home eventually and there was no way you could avoid him then.

You felt instant regret as you entered your apartment late that night. Sleep deprived and physically exhausted after an intense day of training with May, you rushed into your home and fell into bed. It didn't take long for you to enter a deep slumber, dreaming of the life you could have had.

Morning came far sooner than you would have liked. You washed and dressed on autopilot, trying not to think of the different ways you might run into your beloved Captain. It happened much sooner than expected and liked. On your way out, you heard voices through the door. They sounded happy, full of laughter. 

Maybe if you waited, they would leave and you could escape undetected. After a few moments of silence, you peeked through the peephole, the coast looked clear. You pulled open the door and ventured out only to come face to face with the happy couple locked in a kiss.

There was nowhere to go. You'd already closed your front door, trying to unlock it would attract attention, so would any attempt to slip passed. You were well and truly trapped in a nightmare.

Peggy spotted you first. "Oh, hello. You must be our neighbor!"

"Ace," Steve said your name so softly, you wondered if you imagined it.

"It's nice to meet you," Peggy held out your hand.

The years of training allowed your body to respond appropriately while your brain felt like it had been put through a blender. You shook Peggy's hand politely.

"Nice to meet you, too."

Steve was looking at you like he'd been caught committing a crime.

"Hi," you felt compelled to fill the silence.

"I didn't know you were here."

"I got home pretty late last night."

"You two know each other?" Peggy interjected. 

Steve introduced you to Peggy. "She used to be a S.H.I.E.L.D agent. Now she is a teacher to some pretty special kids."

"Wow, everyone's part of the family here." She smiled at you warmly. 

"Ace, do you think we could have a chat, please?" His eyes were pleading silently.

He wanted to talk about your relationship, your former relationship. Did he want to do it in front of her?

"Maybe we could go for a walk later? After you're done at work?" he clarified.

"Yeah, after work. I should go there, to work, now." You nodded and pushed past them.

"Have a good day," Peggy called after you.

"Thank you," you answered without looking back, not wanting either of them to see your pain. 

There was bedlam when you arrived at the Academy. Two of your students had taken it upon themselves to practice their sparring while they waited. Needless to say you spent most of your morning mediating the animosity that had been created in your absence.

By the time you had scratched the surface of your lesson plan, it was 4pm and your students practically dismissed themselves.

"We're not done here! I'd better not come in to any more destruction tomorrow!" you yelled after them.

You received a cacophony of goodbyes with few assurances of peace. You loved your kids but they were exhausting! As you finished cleaning up and making progress notes, you noticed the time and the conversation from the morning came flooding back to you. It was probably time you headed home to face the music.

Steve was waiting for you outside the building. You spotted him before he saw you and you grabbed that moment to admire his physique and how much you missed how he held you.

“Ace!”

His voice broke through your reverie. “Steve,” you greeted him softly. “It’s nice to see you.”

You weren’t lying. It was wonderful to see him, regardless of the situation and what you knew was coming next. Neither of you seemed to know what to do next, the temptation was to fling yourselves into the other’s arms, but that was out of the question. And you could tell Steve was thinking the same.

“Can we go down to the park?”

“Sure.”

“Let me take that for you.” Steve took your bag from your arms, chivalrous to a fault.

You let him, you would have let him do anything in that moment. The walk down towards Prospect Park was tense, both of you felt like you were walking through a field of landmines.

“I spent the whole day trying to figure out what I wanted to say when I saw you. None of it sounds right now you’re actually here.” Steve finally spoke.

“I don’t know if there is anything to say, Steve.”

“The last thing I want to do is hurt you, Ace. I lo-"

"Don't." You reached up and put your fingers across his lips. It was a little more invasive a move than you'd intended but you couldn't bear hearing Steve tell you he loved you. Not after you'd seen him kissing the love of his life that morning.

"What do we do now?" he asked as you withdrew your fingers.

"Judging by Peggy's greeting this morning, I assume you haven't told her about our… the relationship we had."

Steve didn't answer but the shame on his face spoke volumes.

"Then the answer is simple. We're neighbors. Do you think we can do that?"

"Ace, I don't want to lose you."

"We don't always get what we want, Steve."

[hecckyeah]

scars we cover up with paint

(or: Daisy just needs her mom May)

(Agents of SHIELD, post-canon, MayDaisy mother daughter bonding time)

.

.

The first warning sign she should have picked up on was the clenching, gnawing feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Melinda May had been out of field duty for so long, she just attributed it to indigestion.

There was a time, years ago, when every warning bell in her body would have picked up on that noticeable gut feeling. That feeling meant action. Danger. Act fast, or else. She had once been able to quickly sort through the causes of it, just by scanning her eyes around the room or noticing discrepancies in her surroundings that her subconscious had picked up on before she could register them.

She would have been checking in on her team when that happened, going through names on her phone and knocking on doors, one by one, until everyone was alive and accounted for. And then she would find out what her intuition was telling her. 

That was her past life. That was always being on the move, never predicting the next tragedy, never being able to keep her family safe. 

That was then.

This is now.  

There was no reason for it. Unless one of her Academy students was secretly harboring evil intentions, the feelings were simply natural and meant nothing.

But now, even with a stomach full from lunch and a good book in hand, the discomfort persisted. 

I’m going crazy . 

The warning bells continued. She shifted in the chair, hoping it really was just a rare bout of indigestion. Even stood up, stretched her arms up toward the ceiling, then down, folding herself in half until her arms hugged her knees. Stretched from side to side, twisted her torso.

It didn’t help.

Which meant it was probably time to panic.

.

.

.

.

The message came before she could pick up her phone to call Mack.

It really wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. Simply an update from Agent Payne, assistant head of the space exploration program, explaining as requested that the Zephyr Three just touched down and that the agents were currently being examined at the SHIELD medical facility in Charleston, South Carolina.

Melinda remembered, with a pang, that this was officially the end of the small team’s last mission. After five years flying missions for the space division and at least that many trips around the galaxy, the Zephyr Three and her crew were finally Earth-bound, permanently. 

“I’m ready to leave space travel to the younger kids,” Sousa had joked last year at their annual Framework meetup. “I’m like a hundred and ten – You guys think I deserve to retire yet?”

May had seen the emotion-filled look Daisy sent her husband, probably thinking she was being subtle but failing valiantly as usual.

If anyone deserved a nice life of low-stakes office work and training recruits, it was those two. Daniel and Daisy. 

She returned her attention to the phone screen and Payne’s message. Glanced over it one more time. 

In getting lost in her memories, she had missed the end of it.

Zephyr 3 just landed, the message read. The crew’s headed to the SCMSC for their workups. All healthy at first glance, just tired and ready to be on solid ground again. Don’t want to worry you.. but your girl is anxious to see you. Might be trip related, maybe not. But she asked for you a few times. Let me know if you want a ride down here.

May paused. 

Your girl.

She knew Payne was referring to Daisy. It was widely known in SHIELD that the small team had a special, unique, altogether unbreakable bond that rivaled that of even the tightest-knit family. It was forged in the years of insane trials they’d gone through – Events that would have destroyed any weaker souls. They’d lost the people closest to them. Almost lost themselves hundreds of times over. No one could go through all that and not come out changed.

Coulson had sometimes referred to Daisy as the daughter he never had. And although she rarely said it, May had always felt the same.

Your girl.

The girl she’d trained. Protected. Held up when the universe seemed determined to destroy her. 

Daisy had never needed May. But she’d always chosen her. 

Chosen her to be the mother figure she’d always dreamed of having. 

The next text message followed, with perfect timing. And even before she could see the sender’s name, she knew it was from Daisy.

Hey May. Payne said he’d update you, but I’m thinking he’ll downplay things. Need my S.O. right now. Please tell me you’re free. I’ll tell Payne to send the jet.

No emojis, no exclamation points, perfect punctuation, and she hadn't called May her Supervising Officer in years . Something was very wrong, and the thought sent a hot stone down to the depths of her chest. 

It only took her seven minutes to pack a small duffel, all while on the phone with Payne, arranging pickup. He also promised to personally call the Academy for her and arrange for a substitute for a few days. She thanked him profusely for that gesture. 

Finally she locked the door behind her, stepped out onto her front porch, let out a deep breath, and set her jaw.

On my way, she texted Daisy. Hang in there. I got you.

.

.

read the rest on ao3

[vienna-salvatori]

It's been 10 years since 1x07- The Hub first broadcast (Nov 12 2013)

So, in honour of an episode that's been playing on repeat in my head for a decade...

Here's my theory on what's actually going on with Victoria Hand, and why she's actually a paranoid-but-clever strategist, not as petty and incompetent as she comes across as.

Ah, series 1. Those were the days. The HYDRA reveal hadn't happened yet. Everyone was happy! They trusted each other, mostly! Sure, Skye's allegiances were questionable, but they got over that eventually. May might've had that whole "secret line to Fury" thing, but they sorted that too. Coulson might've had his head messed with, but it's not like that caused serious problems with his judgement until series 2.

... that we know of.

Here's a couple facts: 1) The team are running worldwide missions. Despite this, in one season, they end up passing through The Hub on three separate occasions (The Hub, The Magical Place (I think), and Turn, Turn, Turn/the finale arc.) It's clearly a bit of a, well, hub, for SHIELD activity, and sees a lot of people coming in and out. 2) It's unclear exactly how long Hand has been in charge of the Hub, but we know from s7 that she's been in SHIELD a while. There's nothing in series 1 to suggest that her command of The Hub is a recent promotion. Coulson, meanwhile, was recruited by Fury just out of high school. He's been in the field for decades by this point.

and-

3) When Coulson first meets Victoria Hand in 1x07, he claims to know her only by reputation.

Yeah, no.

I think it's highly unlikely that he's never crossed paths with Victoria Hand before. They might not know each other well- I, personally, think it's best if they do, but YMMV- but I cannot envision a scenario where the two haven't run operations together before.

My assumption, then: they did know each other. Coulson's had his head messed with, though, and he's forgotten all about it.

From Hand's perspective: that dude she really doesn't like has just shown up. He was supposed to be dead, but whatever, they work for SHIELD, shit happens sometimes. That said, he's got the strangest team she's ever seen- Melinda May back in the field, two sci-tech kids who didn't even pass their field exams, John Garrett's antisocial protege, and an enemy agent. (We, the audience, know that Skye is clear, but Hand has no reason to think anything but the worst of her.) He's also pretending that this is the first time they've ever met, for some reason.

... Maybe it's a weird prank.

She decides not to engage with it, because she has a lot of very important work to do and she doesn't really want to deal with any of That Bullshit. Except, Coulson's acting really differently to how he did before- I don't think it's very controversial to say that pre-Avengers Coulson and AoS!Coulson are two very different people. Melinda May- who she knows is one of his closest friends- is... not calling it out, for some reason. Also, he does have a history of recruiting wildcard agents, but usually he follows protocol once they're in. This random kid he found in a van is just wandering around poking her head into things, and Coulson isn't stopping her even though that is against the system. Hand might not like Coulson, but she knows that he does his paperwork and follows the rules. He'll bend them completely out of shape, but he won't break them outright without very good reason. Or at least, he used to do that.

The whole situation is alarming on so many levels. So... she decides to test him- the stupidest, most obvious test that Phil Coulson- who has always been pedantic about the safety of his people- will catch instantly.

She'll "forget" to file the extraction plan.

He'll spot it, of course. He'll spot it instantly, and she'll roll her eyes and file the paperwork she's already filled out. She'll say that this is why they have procedures and it's important to follow them, not just turn up in someone's airspace with a team that makes no sense and ignore all rules and protocol.

Except, Phil Coulson does not notice. It takes his team members breaking protocol in front of of all of them for him to spot a problem in the mission paperwork she physically placed into his hands.

And that? That is not Phil Coulson. She might not like Phil Coulson, but she does know him, and he always looks out for his agents. That's not Coulson, and May is playing along with the imposter for some reason, even when she knows him even better than Hand does.

In the end, she just lets it all play out, because this is so far off what she expected she honestly wants to know how far it reaches.

If she tries to chase up Coulson's file afterwards, she'll hit the (canonically very weird) firewalls and restrictions around TAHITI protocol. If she tries to report the oddities to Fury or Hill, they'll brush her off- again, TAHITI protocol. There's something wrong with that dude and no one in her agency is taking her seriously.

So. Once the HYDRA reveal happens, and she starts looking for moles? Well, there's one really obvious place where standard SHIELD protocol is failing. The issue stretches to some pretty high levels, too- this isn't just baby-agent incompetence. That probably means Coulson's HYDRA. May must be too, if she's covering for him. Skye is, still, basically an enemy agent, Hand won't lose sleep over her. I have... thoughts... about the fact that Hand outright tries to shoot John Garrett out of the sky despite, or because of, their working history, but she's definitely suspicious of him, too. Ward is his agent and likely to follow his lead- when the Twist happens, Ward plays up how betrayed he is, and Hand buys it without question, which makes me think she did know they were pretty close. Simmons is already in the Hub, she can clear her separately.

Really, the only actual loss if she was to take that plane down would be Fitz.

Hand brings down the plane because she has legitimate reason to believe Coulson is an enemy agent, and so is the rest of his team. When she sends her people to storm the BUS, she wants Coulson alive, because he's probably the highest-ranking HYDRA member she can actually get her hands on. She wants some answers, damnit. The rest are acceptable losses if it comes to that.

[eomma-jpeg]

silly in the meadow info that was never explicitly mentioned in the fic (they may make an appearance later but they just never came up in the Big Boy)

Knives has 5 scars: 2 in his shoulders, one over his heart, and 2 in the center of his thighs. This is pulled directly from the fight in the anime !!! Vash shoots him 5 times

Milly and Knives don't have sex for..... a while after they start their relationship. I have always felt that Knives struggles with both emotional and physical intimacy and has made exceptions for Milly,,,, but sex is... its too much that early on. He almost feels unworthy or scared he'll ruin something or hurt her T-T

Pet names are always hard for me to write bc they seem so cheesy to me. I think Knives refers to Milly by her name for so long, but he does eventually start calling her "my love"

I think milly would use cute country pet names such as: pumpkin, sweetheart, honey, hon, babe. But more often than not she just calls him Nai

I'd like to think that Knives grows his hair out at least once... and Milly just... its almost too much for her. The waves and the black stripe and when he puts his hair up ? RIP Milly Thompson

So there's 5 boys and 5 girls in Milly's family, and they're named in a fun order

Girls in age order

Amy (Amelia)

Ellie (Eloise)

Penny (Penelope)

Jenny (Jennifer)

Milly (Millicent)

Boys

Arthur

Emerson

Phillip

Jonathan

Marcus

I did this bc im from Utah and big families almost always have silly naming conventions hehe

Penny works the farm mostly bc she likes doing it but also bc her husband passed away soon after their daughter was born. Secret little behind the scenes tragedy (his name was Hiro!)

I think Vash and Meryl leave soon after the ending of in the meadow. They probably stay for the next cycle and up until the market... but Meryl is getting anxious. She doesn't particularly like to stay in one spot (and Vash unsurprisingly is returning to his old habits of wanting to wander)

Milly and Knives leave too but idk how far in the future.

@veilder got me thinking about plant ethics because that is talked about in trimax but the squad never gets to truly talk about it in 98, so I love the idea of Meryl and Milly going into journalism and traveling around to report on the sentience and incredible partnership humans have with plants.

Veil also convinced and solidified the idea of the twins becoming plant engineers (?) And traveling with the girls to help their advocacy and show how to properly treat plants !!!

Roberto is Milly’s Mom's brother,,, so Melinda's maiden name is De Niro

Oh ! I have hc heights !

Knives and Vash - 6'2

Milly - 5'11 (nearly 6 feet)

Meryl - 4'11

Wolfwood - 6'1

Meryl knows that Knives' real name is Nai but ABSOLUTELY refuses to use it. She can recognize her privilege

One day, Knives says Meryl's first name quietly to her with this like stupid bratty grin on his face and Meryl is about to go screaming around the lot that Knives said her name, but then Knives says "whos gonna believe you" and Meryl just 💀💀💀 (please refer to this clip)

Knives is the little spoon (most of the time)

This will become evident with a one-shot I've written, but when Knives has night terrors or panic attacks he just crawls up on Milly and lays his head on her heart. It's a steady beat that calms his racing mind (and her body is soft....)

In accordance with recent Tristamp concept art and ideas... the twins are genderless, but are certainly masculine presenting. This means that genitalia is .... different. Please refer to @millionsknives for their sketches

This also means that I don't think bio children are plausible for either couple... and that might be a hurdle that milly has to jump. And perhaps !!! Because of this!!! They do adopt a few kids

It takes Knives a minute, but when he finally feels like Milly's family is his family,,,, all of those nieces and nephews are His Children and if anything happens to them you have Him to deal with.

I do have names, ages, and birthdays for all of the members of millys family lol

I doubt I'll ever write this, but I think one day Knives reveals some pieces of his plant nature to Milly, like wings and feathers and milly is just ENAMORED. He's so pretty already and with the added softness of feathers and wings????? Milly is done for

This is like.... a trigun hc (not just itm) that I have in my mind but the boys have 3 sets of wings. One main pair on their shoulder blades, another medium pair that sprout at their mid back and a small pair at the base of their spine. Some of Vashs wings are damaged bc of the scarring on his back.

I think if there's ever a proper marriage proposal, it'll be under the apple tree. And milly will be the one to propose

I won't reveal too much bc I would like to write this but.... but Knives is there when Milly dies. That is all I will say.

Thank you for indulging me and if I remember more I will be sure to add them lol.

Also ! If you wanna share your own hc with me plsssss do. Stick em in the tags, replies, or my inbox. I will graciously accept them 💖💖💖

[skyler10fic]

Seasons Meetings

By Skyler10

Summary: Daisy brings her new girlfriend home to meet her parents, and Phil and Melinda are thrilled.

A/N: Wrote this on the plane home alone to a less accepting family and edited on the flight back, so I hope this helps all of us who have parents who wouldn't react in this welcoming of a way. *hugs

Read on Ao3

-----------------

Melinda May was in awe looking back at her past holiday family photos. She’d aged, despite her husband’s protests to the contrary. He had too, but gracefully, carrying the wisdom and laugh lines of experience, complimenting his gentle kindness. Their tiny baby transformed through each photo—first into a delightful and hyperactive little girl, then to an adorkable preteen, then to a depressed teenager with long hair dyed even blacker than her natural dark brown and with matching nails and thick eyeliner. She smiled, but it barely covered the truth. Those were rough years for them all.

But the photo tradition had continued. The longer Daisy was in college, the more she bloomed. She matured into a radiant young adult, if self-deprecating and with still a bit of that old insecurity when she ran into old classmates when home for the holidays. Former teachers and senseis and parents of friends asked every time when she was going to bring home a boyfriend, how she could possibly still be single, and didn’t she want to give her parents grandchildren?

Melinda always redirected the conversation, with a protective arm around her daughter’s shoulders. Both Melinda and Phil were quick to reassure Daisy that they were proud of her regardless of her relationship status or whether she ever had children. Daisy was grateful but said no more on the subject. She mentioned boyfriends here and there, and a girl or two, but none made it to Christmas or to meeting her parents. Melinda and Phil worried that Daisy's teen years were still haunting her all these years later.

In Daisy’s senior year of high school, she came out as bi to her parents in a tearful outpouring of secrets at the lowest point of her depression, but it proved to be a turning point. To Phil and Melinda, it was also a relief as it answered so many questions. It wasn’t just her ADHD, the high expectations on her as a tech genius, and the stress of moving away to college soon. She’d had her heart broken a year earlier by a girl who wasn’t ready to be out and denied they had ever had anything between them. The girl's friends shamed and bullied Daisy for months, but eased up over the summer and the fall semester. But as pressure mounted in the spring before graduation, Phil and Melinda found Daisy in her room crying so hard that dark streaks of mascara stained Phil’s shirt as he pulled her close. She’d been photographed flirting with another girl, and the photo had made its way around social media with meme text about sin and “confusion” in “our schools,” with the cyberbullying perpetuated by the girl from the previous year who had now joined an evangelical youth group.

No one could blame Daisy for staying away after high school graduation. She spent her summer breaks in impressive internships until one of those internships turned into a job at the end of those four years. But through university and now as a working professional, she always came home for Christmas.

This year, however, she wouldn’t be coming alone. She said she had a special guest, but she wanted it to be a surprise.

Melinda and Phil lit up when they saw their precious girl appear from the airport terminal. But the bombshell blonde with her made their smiles even bigger. The blonde caught Daisy’s scarf as it fell off and they stopped so she could wrap it back around Daisy’s neck. Daisy pecked a kiss to the blonde’s cheek and took her hand.

“Mystery solved then,” Phil quipped to Melinda. Melinda sent him an amused look of agreement before they waved to catch Daisy's attention.

After reunion hugs were exchanged, Daisy introduced them to the blonde who was politely waiting behind her.

“Okay, don't be weird,” Daisy warned, “but this is my girlfriend, Carol Danvers. Surprise! Carol, this is my mom and dad.”

Daisy's nervous smile told Melinda all she needed to know. Daisy was in love. This was no mere holiday invite because Carol didn't have plans. This was an official Meeting of the Parents.

“Wow, girlfriend, huh?” Phil stuck out his hand to shake Carol's. “I'm Phil.”

“We're so glad to meet you.” Melinda shook her hand next. “I'm Melinda.”

With this warm welcome, they walked together to the baggage claim.

“So this is the mysterious Carol,” Melinda began. “We've heard you've been spending time together…”

“… But we didn't know about the girlfriend part,” Phil finished.

Carol turned to Daisy in hesitation, “Wait, did they know before now that you're—”

“Oh! Yes.” “Old news.” “Yes!” The three hurried to answer.

“Just not that you two specifically were together in that way,” Phil explained his comment. “Carol, we can't wait to get to know you. We're really excited you're here.” Phil tried to rein in his enthusiasm to not embarrass Daisy, but Daisy and Melinda laughed at how obvious it was. Carol didn't, though. She seemed to relax.

“Thank you,” she said simply. Carol didn't hide it as well as Melinda did herself, but this girl clearly had some armor up. Melinda made it her mission to help Carol see her defenses were unnecessary here and that she was genuinely welcome.

“We weren't sure who this surprise guest would be so we made up the guest room,” Melinda explained. “But if you'd both be more comfortable staying in Daisy's room, that's fine too. Her bed is big enough for two.”

There, that was obviously supportive.

“Mom!!” Daisy groaned and blushed.

Phil shrugged. “This is our first time doing this. We don't know what you want.”

“Okayyyy,” Daisy turned to Carol, “now you see why I wanted it to be a surprise.”

Carol smiled at Daisy's childish embarrassment. “I think that's very kind. I'm okay with sharing if Daisy is.”

Daisy nodded and relaxed at how well this was going so far despite her anxieties, and Carol continued.

“Daisy told me it's the first time she's brought anyone home to meet you two. And she told me about all your Christmas traditions.”

Phil offered, “Do you have any of your family's that you would want to do while you're here, Carol? And are they okay with you being with us instead of with them this year?”

Carol exhaled heavily and looked to the still-quiet baggage carousel. “Yeah, they … will be fine.”

Daisy filled in, “Carol and her parents don't really get along.”

Ah.

Phil and Melinda nodded in understanding, and Phil offered, “Well, you're always welcome with us.”

He wanted to hug Carol, Melinda could tell, but the bags started to arrive. He was always finding young people in need of a mentor or father figure and helping them believe in themselves, whatever path lay ahead of them.

With their luggage acquired, they were ready to start their holiday. The four ventured out of the airport for a first Christmas together that they would each treasure for the rest of their lives, despite all of the awkward moments and hard conversations—and the heartbreaking realization that Carol had been worried about Phil and Melinda’s reaction to Daisy bringing home a woman. But Carol's courage and love had shown through, even in that misplaced fear, by being willing to come home with Daisy anyway. Which, of course, only endeared her to them more.

Even that same Christmas, after dropping the two young lovebirds back at the airport, Phil and Melinda mentioned it as soon as they were alone in the SUV. There was mutual agreement that this was The One for Daisy, but also that Carol clearly felt the same. She was the only person who could be worthy of their daughter, from the way Carol adored Daisy to the way she always looked out for Daisy's best, from that scarf in the first moment they saw her to handling Daisy's luggage with care when unloading at the dropoff on the way back.

“That girl’s going to be our daughter-in-law someday,” Melinda had remarked as they watched Carol disappear with Daisy through the airport sliding doors.

“You okay with that?” Phil asked just to be sure.

“Definitely. And you know I wouldn't say that about anybody else.” Melinda raised an eyebrow pointedly. “You?”

“Me too.” Phil smiled and pulled the SUV away from the curb and into an opening in the airport traffic. “One week and we already feel like a family of four.”

“People always asked me if we'd regret not having more kids,” Melinda confessed. “But I think this was the one we were waiting for. Not a sister for Daisy but a wife.”

Phil recounted this story as the father of the bride a year and a half later, in their wedding toast.

[therainroguedoodles]

Mugen∞Drops Information

♾️ About the Series

Say hello to the Mugen Drops! They are a strange family, to be sure, but despite each of their quirks and weird habits, they love each other dearly and will always have each other’s back at the end of the day.

Did you know? Mugen (無限) means “infinite” in Japanese, highlighted by the infinity symbol above each of their heads that ties them all together. These little guys may be simple and seem pretty childish, but I really did work hard on making them to the best of my non-art ability. They are not perfect, but nothing in life ever is! I’m quite proud of the work that I’ve put into bringing these guys to life. Please welcome them into your hearts with warmth and love ❤

The Mugen Drops were originally made for an art trading card website that I won’t name back in… 2021, I believe? For the first time in my life, I felt super excited to draw. The thought of people wanting to collect these little guys made me so happy, but the idea was rejected. I get that they receive a large influx of submissions from real artists, so there’s no way my crude little drawings would take a spot over someone with actual art talent.

I knew that, but it still hurt my sensitive ass. I gave up on this series and I gave up on drawing in general. In 2023, I returned to this series with new additions after rediscovering how peaceful and fun it is to doodle. I want to create a small comic with this family someday soon c: I hope you’ll stick around until then~

♾️ Family Records (oldest to youngest)

Alan Drops (Family elder / Sula's older brother) #13

Sula Drops (Alan's younger sister) #15

Melinda Drops (Alan's first child / mom of Aspen, Lucien, Akito / older sister of Hudson, Jin, Eli, Wade) #9

Hudson Drops (Alan’s second child / Father of Oliver / Husband to Darcy / Younger brother of Melinda / Older brother of Jin, Eli, Wade) #4

Darcy Drops-Mallar (Hudson’s Wife / Mother of Oliver) #5

Jin Drops (Alan’s third child / Father of Rano and Cicily / Younger brother of Melinda and Hudson / Older brother of Eli and Wade) #18

Bubbs Drops-Galazaran (Husband to Devon / Father of Yaz and Balthazar) #16

Devon Drops (Sula’s daughter / Mother of Yaz and Balthazar / Wife to Bubbs) #14

Eli Drops (Alan’s fourth child / Younger brother of Melinda, Hudson, Jin / Older brother of Wade) #6

Wade Drops (Alan’s fifth child / Younger brother of Melinda, Hudson, Jin, Eli) #10

Oliver Drops (Son of Hudson and Darcy) #8

Aspen Drops (Melinda’s first child / Older sister to Lucien and Akito) #1

Lucien Drops (Melinda’s second child / Younger brother to Aspen / Older brother to Akito) #11

Akito Drops-Kamino (Melinda’s adopted child / Younger brother to Aspen and Lucien) #7

Yaz Drops (First child of Devon and Bubbs / Older brother to Balthazar) #3

Rano Drops (Jin’s first child / Older brother to Cicily) #17

Balthazar Drops (Second child of Devon and Bubbs / Younger brother to Balthazar) #12

Cicily Drops (Jin’s second child / Younger sister to Rano) #2

[sharky857]

At last, my "Proper Farmer™" got her own actual profile! 😭

Many thanks to the "Farmer Portrait" Picrew for the portrait (duh!) and the "SDV Dollmaker" mostly for the sprites (though I would appreciate if they could be saved in a bigger size 😅).

Also, many, many, many more thanks to @d-structive for the lovely commission! 💖

Here's the original pic:

I only have an extra bit to drop: Melly's recurring theme is "apples".

Hence why the farm is named "Honeycrisp", while Melly's actual name is "Melinda". in addition, her clothing colours is supposed to recall the different colours of the apple fruits while not being an eyesore. And I know: it is quite ironic for someone so apple-centered to have not a single apple listed anywhere in the "gifts".

Another fun fact about Melly is that the light green gilet is an old gift from her grandmother, who had a huge passion for knitting (and sewing). Melly's been cherishing and treating that clothing item with utmost care, also considering it as some kind of personal lucky charm.

And now, if you made it thus far, inb4 anyone may jump at my throat for what I wrote under "relationships", the fourse horsemen of "avoided like the plague" all have a specific reason each to be avoided:

Haley: Merely commented one time too much on Melly's look. The last straw was her subtle-but-not-really taunt at some sleeveless gilet "so out of style".

Alex: Asked Melly if she wears any bikini. While they didn't even know each other that much. Melly sputtered, panicked, balked and ceased any further attempt at socialising with him since then, in that precise order. 💀

Shane: At first it had been his severely unsociable demeanour to make her desist. After incidentally learning about his struggles with depression, Melly is now low-key scared shitless concerned to say or do something wrong in his presence that might potentially worsen the thing. He is not really a full "ALTP" like the former two, but she'd rather keep her distance until feeling ready enough to attempt any new approach.

Penny: This might come as a surprise, considering how she always seems so sweet and kind and polite and etc. when interacting with her. However Melly came to quite a rough halt with Penny's interactions the day they ended up talking about children. Some farmer has just never really forgotten that "if everyone thought like that, humans would die out" very quick and negative judgement that instantly drove her up a couple walls. 🙂 On the other hand, if Penny will ever reach out with the due apologies, Melly may consider forgiveness; she's too good to hold grudges even after an apology.

As for all the unmentioned NPCs, they are either in the "mutual tolerance" or "neutral" category. The latter would also include people Melly has yet to encounter (kinda hard to have an opinion on someone you've never seen before).

P.S.: The actual profile may be slightly updated in the future, depending on when and if the creator of that specific Picrew will ever include more items (the current portraits desperately needs for eyewear and I'm not that good at pixel-arting to add them myself 😔).

[mx-loar-tev]

Summary: Forced to take refuge at her mother's house with the team, Melinda May has to deal with her famous mother and with her colleagues' antics, while finding the secret of healing a broken soul.

Sneak peek:

The world may have seemed to have tilt on its axis lately but Melinda May knew she could always count on her mother to have her back. Not that the older woman would be happy about it, not so soon after asking her to drive hundreds miles to pick her daughter in the middle of nowhere. But she would do it anyway. 

That's how the whole 'team Bus', as the younger agents had dubbed the remainder of the original team, was standing in Lian May's living room. Safe hideouts were still rare after the Hydra debacle. Fortunately her mother's paranoia made her house the most secure location they could reach, since the Bus had been damaged during the last mission. The plan was to regroup, make the necessary repairs and plan their next move. 

But that probably would have to wait until the rest of the team would stop looking so wide-eyed about everything in the house, her mother included. 

And her mother seemed to be the center of everyone's attention. Not only was she interesting because she was Agent Melinda May's mother—thankfully no-one was calling her the Cavalry—but also because, apparently, Agent Lian May, CIA, was a legend even outside of her own agency. 

Yes, Melinda was the Phoenix's daughter. 

She didn't know when the name had first come up, but it had stuck. However she knew why it had stuck. Agent Lian May had been famous for disappearing during risky missions, so risky she had been supposed dead many times until she would have reappeared suddenly, mostly healthy. Sometimes she would even have faked her death, leaving both her enemies and her colleagues —and even her family— certain that she had been gone for good this time. Until she would have turned up at Langley for debriefing. 

After that, it was no wonder that people had started comparing her to a mythical creature able to be reborn from its ashes, again and again. 

Fitzsimmons were babbling stories they had heard at the Academy, a wide-eyed Skye was listening with rapt attention, her mother was muttering in Mandarin about how the stories became more and more ridiculous with time, and Coulson—well, Coulson had a twinkle in his eyes that meant trouble. He waited until there was a lull in the conversation to address Lian directly. 

Melinda didn't know how her best friend could be such an incredible, talented agent and somehow would end up putting his foot in his mouth when talking to her mother. 

"You know, I'm kind of a phoenix too now."

Lian looked him up and down critically. "You look more like a zombie."

(Keep reading on ao3)

[themculibrary]

Worried Masterlist

A Fast but Steady Heartbeat (ao3) - spooderboyandtincan N/R, 1k

Summary: Peter, Tony and Rhodey are enjoying their afternoon at a restaurant until the building and their food explodes.

Bright Eyes (ao3) - NotEvenCloseToStraight clint/tony T, 3k

Summary: After being hurt in a fight, Tony ends up temporarily blind and tries to hide it from the team so they don’t worry.

Clint is the only one to notice, and an honest conversation between the two about exactly how much Tony matters to the team leads to unexpected kisses.

Bloom in a Garden of Love (ao3) - hopelessly_me bucky/clint T, 5k

Summary: Bucky's holding on to a weird secret- for some reason he keeps coughing up rose petals. He thinks maybe he can hide it until events take a terrifying turn.

By Your Side (ao3) - SerendipityRed (SerendipityBlue) G, 3k

Summary: After Peter is forced to lift the fallen building after homecoming, he has to deal with the aftermath of the injuries that he’s received.

Peter Parker being the stubborn bean that he is, doesn’t tell anyone.

But the injuries are revealed after an accident in the lab.

Enter protective Tony, Steve, Bucky, Thor, Bruce, and Loki.

can you save my heavy dirt soul? (ao3) - streetlight_skeletons steve/bucky N/R, 1k

Summary: Bucky can't breathe and they won't shut up

Casualty of war (ao3) - wolfypuppypiles M, 22k

Summary: Peter got knocked down in Civil War, but when Tony went to check on the baby Avenger, he realized he was more badly hurt than first realized.

There wasn't meant to be any casualties, but there always is in war.

Elevator Freeway (ao3) - awesomesockes, whumphoarder T, 1k

Summary: Delirious and bleeding out from a gunshot wound, Peter struggles to describe his location to a very worried Tony.

Five Bullets And Nineteen Hours (ao3) - thefatedthoughtofyou sam/bucky G, 2k

Summary: Bucky gets hurt, badly, protecting Sam on a mission.

Hey Mr Stark, I'm Trapped Under A Building (ao3) - Kryi T, 1k

Summary: Peter's on evacuation duty, he was trying to get as many people out of the building as fast as possible. But something happens and he slips into unconsciousness.

Safe and Sound (ao3) - onthesandsofdreams pepper/tony T, 1k

Summary: She feels off kilter, unsure for the first time in a very long time. She should go. She should go downstairs, let Tony know that she was going home (or the office) and leave. But, she finds that she doesn’t want to, he has just returned and it doesn’t take a genius to know that he has suffered. That thing in his chest speaks louder than anything Tony might say.

Scream out loud like never before (ao3) - Carlet phil/melinda M, 33k

Summary: From philindaprompts on Tumblr: "Ward never really got his hands on May to 'make' her pay for breaking his larynx, chasing him down, Agent 33, etc."

Mid season 3, minus the whole Hive thing. Ward kidnaps and tortures May with the intent of making her pay for his suffering, proving that not even the infamous Melinda May was indestructible.

Taking Care of... (ao3) - orphan_account G, 6k

Summary: It's time for the obligatory sick/comfort fic!

Chapter 1: Rhodey is sick but don't worry, his best friend Tony is there to take care of him.

Chapter 2: Tony is sick but don't worry, his best friend Rhodey is there to take care of him.

Thank the Watchmaker (ao3) - ThatMadHatter clint/phil T, 11k (WIP)

Summary: “Natasha. Barton’s been compromised.” Phil’s voice did not hitch slightly at the word compromised. He was fucking Agent Phil Coulson. His voice did not betray emotion. Even when telling his boyfriend’s best friend that said boyfriend was compromised.

Or the one where Phil and Clint are together before The Avengers and the author rewrites things with that in mind.

you heal me like the light of day (ao3) - searchingforstars T, 9k

Summary: or, Peter tries to hide a stab wound and an infection-fuelled fever is never any fun. Also, it turns out that Beck is still lurking in Peter's mind much more than anyone realised.

You're Not Alone (You Have Us) (ao3) - Rascalisafatcat clint/phil, pepper/tony T, 2k

Summary: When his daughter gets sick with the flu Coulson leaves a debrief to go take care of her, the Avengers soon find out and they come to his rescue.

[agelorwar]

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[pheita]

A congress, a playful cover, and an accidental epiphany Part 10

Befitting the end of the year, the end of this mini-fic. I kept it short for once, yeah! And with this, I wish everyone a happy new year. May 2023 be nicer, gentle, filled with laughter, and more successful for all of us. Don't forget the Masterlis for Tali and Constantine over here and the masterlist for my WIP "Flowers of Fire" which will take place 6 years later (counting from the first meeting of these two idiots) In the new year, there will also be a WIP blog coming. Warning: NSFW for talk about sex, sexual fantasie, female masturbation

@stormbrightwriter @catharticallysarcastic @kainablue @bloodlessheirbyjacques @chris-the-dragonslayer @weaver-of-fantasies-and-fables @ashen-crest @zmwrites @magic-is-something-we-create @incandescent-creativity @pen-for-sword @violetcancerian @poore-choice-of-words @contes-de-rheio @queerlilchinchin Of course, the taglist is always open for new folks, and always let me know if you want to be taken off.

"Shit, Toni, you look like a Minotaur had you in his grasp." The wide joyful grin on Gregori's face disappeared the moment he opened the door and saw Constantine. "That sums up my emotional state very well." "Come in and let your little brother take care of you. Dinner will be ready in ten minutes." With a wordless nod, Constantine entered and fell heavily into the small sofa. Closing his eyes, he let his head slump back and exhaled loudly. The clanging from the kitchen made him at least open his eyes again. Gregori arrived with two shot glasses and a bottle of ouzo. Before Constantine could say anything, he had a full glass in his hand. He looked at it skeptically for a moment and then downed it in one gulp. The clear liquor burned in the throat, but exactly that helped to find back to the present for the moment. "Well then, hit me up. How bad was it?" Gregori refilled before sitting down next to him, the bottle still in one hand, his own glass in the other. "The provocation worked a little too well. Melinda completely forgot herself at the final party and went after Tali in her mystical form." "Whoa wait..." Gregori raised his arms defensively and looked at him in horror. "Melinda came at you in full Lilim form?"

"Yeah, that's exactly it. Which I didn't know she had wings, albeit vestigial, until now. She must be straight from the main line." Thoughtfully, Constantine looked into his glass. "That's completely beside the point now, isn't it? She attacked you in the safe haven at a peaceful gathering. Let me guess, the Gargoyles didn't think it was funny." "No, we had to give our statements this morning." "I thought so. Now how did that come up with Tali?" The broad grin on Gregori's face made Constantine want to punch him. Constantine finished the second glass and fixed a spot on the wall opposite. "The plan to pass us off as a couple worked too well, I'd say. After half a day it had become normal for the two of us to hug and kiss on the cheeks repeatedly, making it look like more to bystanders. There was this male nymph who came up to her after Tali's presentation and had some ideas..." "You wanted to wring his neck?" interrupted Gregori, laughing. "Something like that." Constantine looked over at him with the silent question before Gregori knew that. Instead of an answer, Gregori just laughed, slapped him on the thigh, and stood up.

"I'll go check on the food. We don't want it to burn." "That's usually Serena's job," Constantine jokingly threw in. Gregori's dramatic groan said it all. There was a good chance he was thinking of their mother's birthday when Serena and Gregori were little and the two of them had the wonderful idea of baking a cake, which only succeeded because Gregori was there, even though Serena was the older one. "We better banish her from every kitchen out of sheer precaution," echoed the kitchen. "That sounds like a good plan." Gregori looked pleased as he came back and fell back beside Constantine. "Go on, then." "And the food?" "The oven's out, the residual heat will do the rest and keep it warm. I'll wait." Constantine reached for the ouzo and poured himself a refill. "There were always moments when we almost really kissed. Just before Melinda's attack was another one of those moments, and I think if it hadn't been for Melinda..." Gregori grabbed him by the shirt collar and pulled him close, eyes wide." "You're not fucking serious right now." "I am." "I need stronger stuff." As hastily as Gregori had gotten up, he nearly stumbled into the small table in front of them. He went to the small cabinet where Constantine knew the alcohol was for mixing and behind it, hidden, the stuff from the mystical world. A moment later, a small bottle of whiskey appeared, which looked very much like it came from one of the elven distilleries.

"So Melinda attacked you when you almost kissed, much as if her middle name was Ursula." Constantine responded with a cautionary look at the little reference to The Little Mermaid. "She went after Tali specifically each time, which made sure Tali's unique ability showed itself." "Cool." Briefly, Gregori looked up from the glasses with a grin. "That's not how Tali sees it. It seems like she can control particles of natural origin." "You mean dust." "Yes, I mean dust, but possibly slightly larger. She used it to create a vortex that repelled Melinda." "Respect, your little hyena got it." Constantine grinned proudly as he leaned over to accept the glass of whiskey. "She sure has. She's got that quiet strength, not quick-tempered or loud, but it's just there and only comes out when it's needed, no matter how shy she is otherwise. She's braver than she thinks she is. Instinctively, she knew right away how to use her ability to create a tentacle of sorts to keep Melinda from her final attack." "Damn, I would have loved to have seen that," Gregori laughed out. "It was awesome." "Then when and how did you fool finally realize you loved her?" Again, Constantine's head sank backward onto the back of the sofa. "This morning." "I'm hearing a story." For a moment Constantine considered drinking the whiskey as well, but then decided against it, or he would be drunk before they got to dinner. Taking a deep breath, he exhaled with a heavy sigh. "Last night, she asked me to hold her to fall asleep. I don't know when I fell asleep either, but my subconscious seamlessly started there." A soft chuckle from Gregori told Constantine that his brother had already guessed correctly. "So what?" "I didn't think the dream was real until after I woke up for real." "Nah, nah, nah, wait. You're not skipping that now." Quick as the wind, Gregori stood behind the sofa and stared Constantine head on. "It doesn't matter." "If it provides your enlightenment, then yes." For long seconds, they stared at each other in a battle of wills, until Constantine looked away and drank the whiskey after all. "A sex dream," he muttered hastily, reaching for the whiskey. Gregori stopped him, laughing. "Shit, this just keeps getting better." "Gregori...." With the bottle in his hand, Gregori took a few steps back, still laughing. "Basically, it makes sense. For an elemental, you have a high sex drive, but that a sex dream helps you realize you're in love... Fuck, no one could make that up. That's great. Fuck, no one believes that." Elegantly, Constantine stood up, took the bottle from Gregori and put both hands on his shoulders with a serious look. "This stays between us." Abruptly, Gregori became serious again and nodded. "Sorry, sure. We'll keep that between us. But seriously, how hard in denial must you have been if that's what your subconscious is doing?" "I know."

Gently, Gregori loosened his grip and hugged Constantine. "So, what do you want to do now?" "I was going to talk to her this morning, but then the gargoyles got in the way, and then that nymph, and during the car ride, I didn't want to do it. I didn't want her to feel trapped or anything." "I understand that too well. So, you want to tell her how you feel?" "Even though I don't know how yet, but yes. Somehow I have a feeling she feels the same way." "Just as well, you'll see each other again on Monday," Gregori teased him. Only when he was already on his way to the kitchen did he notice that Constantine had remained silent. "Wait, you'll see each other Monday, right?" "We both have a week off because of the convention." Dramatically, Gregori fell against the wall. "You're killing me. You're telling me you're going to wallow in your misery for a week and make a million plans about how you're going to tell her." Constantine smirked and walked toward him. "Not millions, but some for sure. As well as, I will continue to screen this nymph. He still irritates me." "You're jealous," Gregori squeaked with laughter. "Maybe," Constantine confessed, sniffing at the food, "But a male nymph, old enough to be one of the first, with red-shaded hair and blue eyes and always looking for trouble. I don't trust that." Gregori grew serious and looked at him skeptically. "Yeah, that smells like a Gafferty offspring, and if we're right, Tali should know that." "Especially if he's interfering with her work." Briefly they looked at each other seriously, nodded to each other, and then Gregori grinned again. "So, but now it's time to eat. We have to counter the alcohol." "I beg you," Constantine sighed, but grinned, nonetheless.

Tali was more than grateful that her parents had taken the family to the zoo, so she could unpack in peace before the siblings would besiege her. After the dirty laundry was in the washer, and she had pounced on leftovers that had been saved from the previous day's dinner, she took advantage and took a long bath. Being awake and feeling Constantine's erection had aroused her in a way she couldn't get rid of, and the part about him kissing her while she was half asleep had done the rest. She had only played the sleeping one on him because she didn't know what else to do, but that it ended in him disappearing into the shower in a panic, forgetting to close the door, and her having the perfect view of him jerking off, she couldn't have anticipated that. Just the thought of it turned her on again. A glance at the clock said that the family would be gone for at least another two hours. After a moment's thought, Tali decided she could risk it and dug out her hidden box of dildos. She had to giggle as she thought of how Zoe had dragged her to a sex store three years ago.

Quickly, she had found the dildo she was looking for, pushed the box aside and disappeared into the bathroom. With a sigh, she stepped into the warm water, which smelled delightfully of cherry blossoms, and relaxed a bit. Her thoughts roamed, wandering off to Constantine in the shower that morning. In her imagination, she followed him into the shower to his surprise, kissing him under the stream of water. His hands exploring her body, gently stroking her breasts as he covered her neck with kisses. Those long fingers that found their way between her legs and demanded access, exploring her moist depths as if they were made just for him. His thumb slowly stroking her clit as his fingers slowly penetrated deeper and deeper into her, following her every move, as his other hand massaged her nipple until she orgasmed. In reality, she lay in the tub with the dildo already buried deep inside her, pumping it in and out like a possessed woman while the other hand rubbed her clit. She gasped with effort as one orgasm followed the next, but her body only screamed for more.  After the fifth one Tali forced herself to stop and wash, but as soon as she got out of the tub the urge was too much again and had the dildo inside her again, sitting on the edge of the tub and riding the dildo like a maniac while her hands pinched her nipples until it hurt, but even this orgasm brought no relief.

Physically exhausted, she still managed to wrap herself in a towel and take the dildo back to the room with her before any of the younger siblings saw it. The phone was fortunately on the bed, so she could still reach for it while falling on the bed and write a message to Zoe. "I have a problem. Defcon permanently in heat." It took maybe a minute for Zoe to call. "Tali! Shit, what did you do?" "Constantine..." "I realize that too, sweetie. But how did you manage to get permanently horny in just a few days?" Tali sighed and giggled at the same time. "Apparently I didn't faze him either." "Wait.... Don't tell me he had a hard-on this morning." "More." "You witnessed him...? Oh shit, and that when you've been so into him for half a year and then all the stuff because of his ex and oh shit.... No wonder. Where are the others?" "Zoo..." "Tali?" "Hmm?" "How many times have you?" "I don't know. And my powers have been free since yesterday." "Fuck." The silence that followed was enough for Tali to look skeptically at her phone to see if the connection was still there. "Okay, sweetie, you have vacation next week?" "Yes, I do." "Good, I'm off Wednesday too. I'll pick you up Wednesday, and then you and I will go to a bathhouse. Don't argue with me. You know what happens if you don't." Tali sighed heavily. "I know. There can be serious consequences if you don't." "I would really call your death a serious consequence. Can you make it that long?" "I don't know." "I'll let mom know. I know there's something that will tone it down for now." "Okay. Thanks." "You know the others will pick up on it then, too?" "I know," Tali sighed, too done to worry about that now. "Is there more to it than you seeing Constantine in all his glory?" For a moment Tali wanted to tell about Rafael and how he kind of confused her with his demeanor, how he was clearly interested in her after she had unraveled at noon that it was all an act, but then she let it go. "I'll tell you Wednesday." "All right. You get ready for your mom's onslaught. Love you, take care." "I will. Love you too." Sighing, Tali hung up and curled up. This wasn't how she'd imagined it all working out. Maybe she should have just been brave for once in her life.

[trickstercaptain]

It felt so strange, to be tongue-tied like this. Usually he was excellent at conjuring up seemingly sincere phrases, not to mention extravagant flattery. He’d told Melinda that he loved her any number of times, because she seemed to like hearing it, even though she undoubtedly knew better. Yet here he was, lucky Jack Sparrow, facing the first woman he’d ever really cared about—and there were no words, no words at all.

       this passage from tpof really does haunt me though, because one of the hallmarks of Jack's character is that the more words he uses, the less you should trust him — and vice versa. he's eloquent and charming and flirtatious when he wants to be ( or more accurately, when he wants something ), and because he taught himself to be as a fundamental means of getting attention in the absence of any from his primary parental figure ( Teague ). it's one of the many masks that Jack created when he was younger that has effectively become part of his integral personality and he probably couldn't separate out from himself even if he tried.

       he tells Melinda that he loves her because it "seems" that she liked hearing it, which I just find such an interesting word to use — as if Jack's not even really sure why she likes hearing it ( this is a boy who has yet to discover what love is lmao ) or why she entertains it when she obviously knows that Jack only uses it because he thinks she wants to hear it rather than because he actually feels that way. it's also interesting that he showers her in flattery anyway because, given the nature of their dynamic and this interaction that Jack has with sex ( which is always transactional due to the nature of the world he grows up in ), Jack pays to have sex with her. I imagine Melinda is way more concerned that Jack pays her rather than telling her he loves her ( although the latter I'm sure is a nice bonus, don't get me wrong ), but Jack chooses to do this anyway when it is not a requirement of their relationship. and you can argue that Jack may do this to help smooth things over when he unintentionally pisses her off ( this is certainly one of the reasons why he does the same thing with Giselle and Scarlett in the trilogy ), but I personally think that 20 year old Jack is way more likeable than movie-era Jack ( or at least less of a scoundrel lmao ), so there is ultimately less of a need for Jack to do this to offset any of the more unreliable and flighty parts of his personality.

       so then it begs the question of why Jack does do this, and I think it feeds into the idea that he is way more of a people pleaser than you might think, particularly in certain circumstances. as said above, Jack tells Melinda he loves her because he thinks she likes it when he does, because it makes her like him more ( and from their interactions in the novel there is no denying that she is fond of him, more so than her other clientele although Jack doesn't begrudge her for taking other clients seeing as he's smug and his usual flirtatious self, not jealous, to catch Melinda in bed with Barbossa lmao ). for a boy starved of affection and attention, that's a benefit. it's a learned behaviour that if Jack says these things, he will get the attention he wants, and that leads him into a lot of the difficult situations he winds up in where he makes all of these declarations of love and promises ( even of marriage, as to Giselle and Scarlett ), all because he doesn't want to break things off and tell them what he really feels, and then ends up feeling suffocated or anxious and flees from the entire situation. it takes until the end of AWE for Jack to express his blunt and honest opinions to Giselle and Scarlett, and he reels off such a list of things that he clearly had to bite his tongue over that he had clearly been entertaining them both for a while without audibly complaining. considering that Jack is obnoxiously blunt to just about everyone else that he encounters, this is really interesting and proof imo that if Jack likes you, or actively wants you to like him, he is susceptible to people pleasing to a certain degree.

       then there's the fact that, when it's real emotions, Jack can't bring himself to speak at all. this isn't necessarily because Jack doesn't know his own feelings, but is because he either doesn't know how to express them or is inhibited by his own anxiety over it. I always try to talk in vague terms about Jack and anxiety because it is an undeniable part of his psyche, but in no verse is Jack ever going to get or seek a diagnosis. but love and vulnerability undoubtedly make Jack anxious — to the point where it can actually physically inhibit him, in the sense that he doesn't know what to say or that he overthinks what to say or that he is too afraid of the reaction to what he might say, particularly if it is deemed inadequate or doesn't match the other person if they are way more open about their own feelings. this also shows a willingness not to lie, either, seeing as there clearly is a desire to express his feelings or be open with the other person, or else he wouldn't be anxious and would just shut the attempt down immediately, or fall into those people pleasing patterns and tell the other person what he assumed they wanted to hear ( and there is a degree of that present — for instance if someone tells him they love him, he will instantly assume that they would expect those words in return, and will inwardly berate himself for not being able to say it ).

       I think quite a lot about how Jack can alleviate this within the context of a relationship, and while the very obvious solution is simply to be patient with Jack and let him work on expressing himself and his feelings when he has had time to process and is in a calm state of mind. but I also go back and forth on whether Jack has an easier time expressing himself in the written word rather than the verbal one, particularly given that the anxiety seems to stem from a fear of being perceived and being rejected. obviously Jack wouldn't want anything written to be perceived either lmao, but he is an eloquent writer and an ardent reader, and it would give him an outlet that wouldn't trigger his anxious brain :')

[analyticallymindedarchive]

tumblr ate my tags 1/???

[brutashaphilindaandsylkiohmy]

Hello friends. It's been quite a while.

Okay, okay I get it. I disappeared off the face of the planet without much explanation. All I can say is I graduated college, started a big adult person job, and am kinda sorta in a relationship so... things got hectic very quickly.

That being said, I had an epiphany while taking a shower the other night.

Does anybody remember something very crackheaded that I threw together titled Stranded?

For those who don't know (of which I'm sure there are many), Stranded was a Phil Coulson/Melinda May fanfic idea that stemmed from another fanfic I read that still makes me all gooey inside when I read it named Finding Home. (GIVE IT A READ IT'S ON AO3 AND OH MY GOD IT'S AMAZING)

Basically, May gets stuck in a tiny town when her rental car decides to straight up stop working. Insert handsomely dorky mechanic Phil Coulson and his soccer star daughter Daisy. Through the power of convenience and necessity, Coulson and May fall in love. I won't ruin the ending even though it's pretty predictable.

At least... I thought it was the end.

LADIES AND GENTLEMEN I PRESENT TO YOU... A SHORT PREVIEW OF STRANDED CHAPTER 6.

Enjoy if you want 😅

---

"Sir, he has yet to respond to our communique."

"I told you, Sanderson, we have to play it by ear with him."

"Sir we can't afford to wait much longer. There are other mechanics."

"Not like this one."

"I understand sir but we have missions to complete and-"

"Then complete them."

"Well we tried but the... the Quinjet isn't repaired yet and-"

"So you need a mechanic."

"Well, yes sir we do."

"He's a mechanic."

"But there are others who have expressed interest in joining us already. We wouldn't have to wait on them."

"Then bring them the hell in. I'll keep an eye on this recruit myself."

"Pardon me sir I just don't understand your... affinity for this one. He's just a civilian like all the others were when they signed up. What makes this one so different?"

Fury's eyes glanced up at the date glowing silently on the holoscreen in front of him. April 4th, 2012. Exactly one month remaining.

"Approve the other recruits. Bring them in and start their damn training. You're dismissed."

Sanderson's footsteps left his office after a quick but hesitant "yes sir". Fury sat down in the chair behind his desk, his one good eye focused on the bloodstained Captain America card in its plexiglass case across the room. Right beside the card was a letter, signed by Melinda May... announcing her resignation from ops.

"I braved hell and high water to get here, Phil. I failed you both before. I'm not about to do it again."

---

Don't worry, it won't be The Avengers. That would be boring. Nope, this is gonna be... chaotic with plenty of Philinda and the twins! And also Daisy of course. Timeline-hopping Fury is gonna be...an interesting addition. Lots of Fury getting to know what Papa Phil is like and coming to terms with how different he is. Hopefully it gets finished and put up soon... but until then, keep checking back for updates. 😅

I also understand that there seems to be way more dialogue. It won't be like this when the chapter comes out. I'm still tossing around ideas in my head and dialogue is always the first things sorted, so that's why there isn't much in the way of world-building or anything like that. It'll be much better when it's done I promise!

I love you all! ❤️