#HR Files Agent Whiskey | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nolanell · 3 years

Text

NOLANell's Fanfiction and Fanart Recommendations

Please heed individual warnings and ratings before reading or viewing!

These are some fanfictions and fanart I have found on here that I really love and want to share with my followers and anyone else who finds my blog. This is a WIP so I will add to this as I discover more things!

Enjoy!

Dividers by the wonderful @firefly-graphics

Din Djarin

Everything and More by @dincrypt - SugarDaddy!Din x Female Reader AU Series

For the Night by @dincrypt - Din Djarin x Female Reader One Shot

Siren by @ezrasbirdie - Din Djarin x GN Reader One Shot

Tied by @radiowallet - Dr. Din Djarin x Female Reader (First Assist) AU Series

Come Back To Me by @magpie-to-the-morning - Highwayman!Din x Female Reader AU Series

Glimpsed by @blueeyesatnight - Grogu POV, thinking about Din Djarin. Part of a series, linked in the piece.

Marcus Moreno

Caramel Latte by @moralesispunk - Marcus Moreno x Female Reader Series

Poorly Wired Circuit by @radiowallet - Marcus Moreno x OFC Sarah Bailey Series

Wish You Were Here by @wardenparker and @absurdthirst - Marcus Moreno x Female Reader Soulmate AU Series (NB: link is to Chapter 1)

Yes, Mr. Moreno by @toomanystoriessolittletime - Marcus Moreno x OFC Alice Baker Writer Wednesday Submission

Marcus Pike

Read You Like A Book by @the-ginger-hedge-witch - Marcus Pike x OFC Anne Series

The Farmer's Market by @ezrasbirdie - Marcus Pike x OFC Annie Christiansen Series

The Long Con by @youvebeenlivingfictional - Marcus Pike x Female Reader Series (Complete)

Marcus & Peanut by @pintsizemama - Marcus Pike x Female Reader Series

Pero Tovar

Driving Mr Tovar by @sirowsky - Modern!Pero Tovar x Female Reader AU Series (Complete)

In His Eyes by @moralesispunk - Blacksmith!Pero Tovar x Female Reader AU Series (Complete)

The Innkeeper's Daughter by @just-here-for-the-moment - Pero Tovar x Female Reader

Stranded Due to Weather in a Coffee Shop AU Ask - Pero Tovar x GN Reader (Part of 400 Followers Celebration)

Javier Peña

Oops by @pintsizemama - Javier Peña x Female Reader Series

Lay It On Me by @queenofthefaceless Javier Peña x Female Reader Series (Complete)

What's The Use Of Wonderin' by @youvebeenlivingfictional - Javier Peña x Female Reader Series (Complete)

Sick Day by @quica-quica-quica - Javier Peña x Female Reader (Prompt List Ask)

At First Sight by @queridopascal - Javier Peña x Female Reader (Writer Wednesday Submission)

To Perish Twice by @brandyllyn - Javier Peña x Female Reader Soulmate AU Series (Complete)

Frankie Morales

ForestRanger!Frankie AU by @the-ginger-hedge-witch - ForestRanger!Frankie x Female Reader AU Series

Fly Me To The Moon by @pilothusband - Frankie Morales x Female Reader One Shot

All Hail The King by @pilothusband - Frankie Morales x Female Reader One Shot

Wednesday by @asta-lily - Frankie Morales x Female Reader (Complete)

Of Cupckes and Cupid by @asta-lily - Frankie Morales x GN Reader One Shot

Frankie Dating a Plus Size Partner Headcannons by @softpedropascal (Ask Request)

Fixing It by @green-socks - Frankie Morales x GN!Reader One Shot

'Here, Take My Jacket' by @mando-forgive-me - Frankie Morales x GN!Reader (Request for Flufftober 2021)

Agent Jack 'Whiskey' Daniels

Conference Call Incident by @just-here-for-the-moment and @driedgreentomatoes (part of the Declassified HR Files Series)

'Is That My Shirt?' by @quica-quica-quica Agent Whiskey x Female Reader (Prompt List Ask)

Extra Pickles, Hold the Mayo by @absurdthirst Agent Whiskey x Female Reader (Writer Wednesday Submission)

Maxwell Lord

Rings by @honestly-shite - Maxwell Lord x GN!Reader One Shot

When The Cards All Fold by @yespolkadotkitty - Maxwell Lord x Female!Reader One Shot

Non Pedro Pascal Characters

Plethora by @fisforfulcrum (Poe Dameron [Star Wars] x GN!Reader One Shot for Writer Wednesday)

Poe Playing Guitar to BB8 by @clakearts (Poe Dameron [Star Wars] Art)

Stay by @the-little-ewok (Poe Dameron [Star Wars] x F!Reader One Shot)

Frogs by @gaitwae (Loki [MCU] x Reader Ask One Shot)

Loki Comforts a Friend by @theaudacitytowrite (Loki [MCU] x Reader Ask Drabble)

The Night Before Your Thesis Defence by @handmaiden-of-mischief (Loki [MCU] x Reader One Shot)

Loki Portrait by @themorningstar81 (Loki [MCU] Art)

How High by @brandyllyn (Santiago 'Pope' Garcia [Triple Frontier] x GN!Reader - part of a series)

The Godfather by @quica-quica-quica (Ben Miller [Triple Frontier] x Female Reader One Shot)

229 notes · View notes

rexisnotyourwriter · 3 years

Photo

by @rexalexander and @postcardsanddaydreaming

After the Atlanta child murders, the Behavioral Science Unit is as busy as ever. With a new team member by their side, they take on what feels like a growing number of active serial killers as well as continue their interviews of already incarcerated subjects. Bill tries to track down Nancy and Brian with the hopes of repairing his marriage, while Wendy tries to take on a more active role in their research with an eager budding protégé at her side.

Read on AO3

*If you enjoy this, please like/reblog on tumblr and/or leave kudos/comments on AO3. Your feedback helps keep fic writers writing.*

Notes: As always, thanks to my beta fish @hardythehermitcrab

Chapter 2: Feeling Like a Loner

The bell rang. The class full of children emptied in a flurry of squeals. The teacher breathed a sigh of relief, but stopped when she noticed she wasn’t alone. A pair of mousy braids sat by the window watching her peers spill out into the playground like ants under a log. They scattered, dispersing themselves amongst the jungle gym, the hopscotch marked concrete, and the small patch of grass they called a field.

The teacher softly called her name.

They’d had this conversation before, usually ending with her forfeiting her smoke break to stay in the classroom.

The girl didn’t turn around.

“You have to go outside today,” she added. “It’s a beautiful day. And look at those clouds. I think that one looks like a cow.”

The girl didn’t move.

“Sweetie.” The teacher put a hand on her shoulder. The girl finally turned to face her. “Why don’t you go outside, hmm?”

“Why?”

“Why? Because it’s fun. Look. Look at all the fun they’re having.”

The girl looked back out the window and contemplated.

“That doesn’t look fun to me,” she concluded, matter-of-factly.

“You need to go outside today.”

“Why?”

“Because teachers need a break, too, and I can’t supervise you in here,” she responded bluntly.

“Oh,” the girl replied. “Okay.”

She got up from her seat and grabbed her neatly folded cardigan from the cubby.

Once outside, she found a good vantage point - a mostly flat rock at the edge of the field where she can see most of the schoolyard.

A group of boys were playing jacks. They’d made it to foursies, from what she could tell. Another boy hovered around them asking to join, but they ignored him.

The girl turned away from them and took a rubber ball out of the front pocket of her overalls. She bounced it against the ground on her own. Then, she turned back to the boys, still steadily bouncing her ball. She watched. When the time was right, she launched her ball into their game, knocking the jacks out of a boy’s hand. They yelled. She caught her ball without missing a beat.

The girl smiled, then turned her attention to the jungle gym. Almost ten children were winding their bodies between the bars, some resting on levels, others climbing to the highest perch. The few children in the center looked like they were imprisoned. An acrobatic cage. One boy made it to the top, or rather almost. His feet were on the second highest bars, his hands on the highest. He put one foot up on the high bar and tested his balance, releasing the pressure on his other grounded foot. His hand slipped, but he got his grip in time to only suffer a minor embarrassment (one of his friends saw, and proceeded to laugh). The boy climbed down after that.

She looked down at her cream colored Mary Janes and tapped her toes together. In the corner of her eye, inching toward her, was a remarkably fuzzy caterpillar. It bobbed up and down like a wave, growing closer and closer to the shore of her shoe.

“I got it,” someone yelled.

Then thud.

The caterpillar disappeared under a grass stained sneaker belonging to the boy who “got it”. “It” was a rubber ball, and the boy she recognized as the one whose turn at jacks was interrupted.

He ran back to his friends, taking no notice of her or his victim. The insect, upon inspection, hadn’t been entirely crushed, and was still wriggling. She gingerly scooped it up with a sturdy leaf and rested it in one hand while she cupped her other around it like a shield. She watched it writhe with increasing intensity, then intermittently, then not at all.

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

On the following Monday morning, Bill was surprised to see that he had beat Holden in to work.

He poked his head in Wendy’s office.

“Captain America not in yet?”

“No,” she replied, barely looking up from the page in front of her.

“Maybe he finally got lucky,” Bill joked.

He got a smirk out of her that time.

Bill turned around and, seeing that Gregg was preoccupied with a phone call, didn’t bother closing the door.

“I’m going up to talk to Gunn,” he said softly.

“Good.” She paused. “Do you know what you’re going to tell him?”

“Marital problems.”

Wendy nodded her approval.

Gregg’s voice got louder from the hallway.

“Is he still on the phone?” Wendy asked.

Bill turned to confirm. “Yup.”

Wendy closed her file.

“This is ridiculous. We can’t be expected to assist in every single murder case across the country. We can’t even keep up with the inquiries.”

“What did Gunn say?”

She rolled her eyes.

“I haven’t really mentioned it, not explicitly. He’s not exactly receptive to my ideas. Knowing him, he would probably ask why Gregg was the one dealing with it and suggest I take over secretarial duties.”

“He’s not that bad, is he?”

Wendy’s eyes flicked up at him. Her look said it all.

“I’ll talk to him,” Bill decided. “Tell him we need to hire someone.”

“Thank you.”

He nodded.

Holden speed walked into the office, his forehead glistening with sweat.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Bill greeted.

Wendy got up from her desk and joined Bill in the doorway.

“Sorry,” Holden muttered breathlessly.

“Is everything alright?” Wendy asked.

“What? Oh, yeah. I had to take the bus, but I forgot my wallet at home and…It’s been a morning.”

“How’s your car?”

“What happened to your car?” Bill interjected.

Holden, still exasperated, dropped his briefcase on the desk with a thud.

“It wouldn’t start when I went to leave the bar on Friday, so Wendy gave me a ride home.”

Bill threw a side-eyed glance at Wendy who wrinkled her nose in subtle disgust.

No, Bill.

“I got it towed to the shop on Saturday,” Holden continued, “but it wasn’t a dead battery. Turns out I need a new timing belt, and they couldn’t get one in until today. I have to pick it up in a couple hours because they close early, and when I called this morning it still wasn’t ready, which is why I had to take the bus. Hence…” He gestured to his state of disarray and exhaled.

“Happy Monday,” Wendy said before disappearing back into her office.

Bill got roped into a case that delayed his plan to talk to Gunn. It was almost 11am before he was finally able to go upstairs. Nearly 23 minutes later, Bill returned to the basement where Holden and Wendy appeared to be waiting for him. The pair looked at him expectantly.

“It went fine,” Bill admitted. “He gave me some sympathy about ‘the old ball and chain’ and poured me a finger of whiskey. As long as we stay on track and deliver, we’re good.”

“That’s great, Bill,” Holden said.

“And Gunn agreed about hiring an assistant,” Bill added, to Wendy’s relief. “A non-agent, but someone who can deal with the sensitive matter. He said he would talk to you about it.”

Wendy’s face dropped.

“Why me?”

Bill opened his mouth to explain, but stopped. He couldn’t find the right words.

She understood.

“Of course,” she added bitterly. Because I’m the woman.

Sometimes she missed Boston.

“Oh, shoot,” Holden exclaimed, noticing the time. “I gotta go.”

“Did you send that profile to Osborn?” Bill asked.

“Yeah, I just faxed it over,” he replied, already halfway out the door.

“Kids,” Bill joked, shaking his head.

“So, how’d it really go?” Wendy inquired.

“It really did go fine,” he replied sincerely. “Better than expected, honestly.”

“But?”

Bill sat on the edge of the desk.

“I guess I still feel…uneasy about the situation with Brian. How would it look if the FBI found out my kid was involved in a murder.”

“But he wasn’t, Bill. They concluded he wasn’t responsible. It’s on the record.”

“I know. And I know that logically he thought the cross was a good idea,” he admitted. “I just don’t feel good about it. And now I can’t even keep an eye on him. I don’t know if he’s still wetting the bed. Or if he’s started sucking his thumb again, or if he’s spoken at all.”

Wendy offered him a sympathetic smile.

“From what you’ve told me, it seems likely that the regressions are a result of the traumatic experience. Nothing more.”

“I just feel so helpless.”

They sat in silence, neither knowing what else to say.

“If there’s anything I can do,” Wendy offered.

“Thanks. Really. I’m glad you’re around.”

Bill got up to leave.

Wendy passed by the fax machine on the way back to her office and picked up the pages of the profile Holden faxed to Alaska. She scanned the page, then stopped.

That little-

There was a knock.

“All by your lonesome, Dr. Carr?”

“Not anymore,” Wendy muttered under her breath.

She turned around to see Gunn standing in the doorway.

“I don’t know if Bill had a chance to mention it to you,” he said, making his way over to her.

“He did.”

“Good. HR has a standard secretary job posting. I’ll have them send it your way and you can let them know if there’s anything to be added. I trust you to select the applicants and conduct the interviews, but I need to sign off on the hire.”

“Isn’t this something that HR can handle on their own?”

“They don’t know what it’s like in the BSU. The intricacies of your operations. You’re the expert on that.”

She straightened her posture and folded her arms.

“You were involved in hiring Agent Smith, weren’t you?” he added, taking a few steps forward, closing the gap between them.

“Yes, but that was different,” she explained. “He’s actively involved in our work.”

“And so will the woman you hire.” She fought hard not to roll her eyes. “I thought you’d want to have a hand in who joins this team, Dr. Carr.”

“That’s -” she started, then stopped.

She took a breath.

“I feel that my time would be better spent focusing on our research,” she explained.

“And this is part of that,” Gunn stated confidently. “Everything that happens in this basement is. And beyond. All the cogs in the machine have to be well oiled and working together.”

His tone was final and his feet were already headed towards the door.

“Let me know if you haven’t gotten anything by the end of the week,” he added, already halfway out the door.

The phone rang, as if on cue.

She walked away, letting the sound echo in the empty room.

Wendy was in the break room getting her third coffee of the day when Holden returned from his errand.

“Hey, is there enough left for me?” he asked, preemptively grabbing a paper cup.

Wendy continued pouring coffee into her cup until the pot was empty. Holden looked at her cup, full to the brim. She picked it up carefully and took a sip from the top, looking Holden square in the eyes, before walking past him back to the office.

He stood there for a few seconds, stunned, before following her.

“Hey,” he called, just as she was about to enter her office.

Wendy turned around, unimpressed.

“Did I miss something?” Holden asked.

She was amused by his question, but not happy.

“Yes, Holden,” she said with more than a hint of condescension. “You missed a significant portion of my professional opinion in the Alaska profile.”

He thought for a moment, trying to remember what she could have been referring to.

“The military thing?” Her look confirmed his guess. “I thought we agreed he didn’t fit the military description.”

“I very clearly stated that it was very likely he did work at the air base.”

“Yes, but then I said I disagreed and you dropped it, so-”

“So, you took that to mean I conceded.”

“Well…”

She’d had it.

Gregg, who took notice of their dispute, removed his headphones to spectate properly, albeit discreetly.

“Look,” Holden said in a softer voice. “I don’t want to argue.”

“If you can’t tell the difference between a rational discussion and an argument-”

“Do you want me to call them?” he interrupted. “Tell them we made a mistake and we’ll send a new assessment?”

Wendy weighed this option briefly.

“No,” she concluded. “The damage is done. It won’t look good if we change our mind unless we’ve been presented with new information.”

Holden exhaled loudly. She stared him down. It didn’t appear that he’d learned this lesson.

“What’s done is done,” she added.

She retired to her office, closing the door firmly behind her.

Gregg looked up at Holden. Holden stared back, trying to think of something to say. His mind drew a blank, and he walked away, shaking his head.

The first thing Wendy did when she got home was pour herself the remainder of her bottle of Pinot Gris. It filled her glass well past the acceptable half-way point, but who was there to judge her.

The second thing she did was check her answering machine. She always tried to do it casually - just a quick glance - as if someone might be watching and think she was neurotic. The little red bulb was dark, as it always was. It seemed like a silly purchase now, slowly gathering dust like her love life.

She took a large sip of wine and opened the fridge. It was sparse. There was half a carton of eggs, an opened container of hummus, a three inch block of cheddar, and a nearly empty carton of milk next to a half full carton of orange juice. The crisper contained a bruised apple, two oranges, and a few stalks of celery.

Unmoved by her options, Wendy opened the cupboard only to find a bag of dried apricots where there would normally be cans of tuna. She once again opened the fridge and took out the cheese, an orange, and two of the celery stalks. From the cupboard, she took out the dried apricots as well as a box of crackers from the one next to it. She sliced the cheese and arranged it carefully on a plate next to a matching number of crackers. Next to the crackers was the celery, cut into sticks, followed by orange wedges and a handful of dried apricots completing the circle. She scribbled down “tuna” and “milk” on the notepad pinned to the fridge before bringing her dinner to the living room.

Wendy settled into her usual chair, curled her feet up, and turned on the television. It was quarter to the hour, right in the middle of any half-hour show and too near the end of a full hour program. She flicked channels through twice before stopping on an episode of Wheel of Fortune, which promptly went to a commercial break.

She took a bite of one of the celery sticks only to find it bitter. It hadn’t looked spoiled from the outside, but it’s hard to tell sometimes. She tossed the stick back onto her plate and grabbed an apricot to cleanse her palate. Much better.

A man from Sarasota made it to the final round, but couldn’t guess the puzzle. Wendy got it in four seconds. When the episode ended, she turned off the television and brought her briefcase back to her chair. She pulled out the file she brought home on John Wayne Gacy. The Killer Clown.

Gacy’s mug shot was more unique than most. He was looking away from the camera, off to the side, and smiling. It was as if he was having a pleasant conversation with one of the officers when they snapped his picture. He didn’t look nice per se, however he wasn’t glistening with sweat. This wasn’t surprising though, considering he admitted he knew he was going to be arrested. And he confessed willingly, although it was only after police had found the remains in his crawl space.

Wendy read through the details of the first convicted murder, Timothy McCoy - formerly known as the “Greyhound Bus Boy”. Gacy had left a family party to go look at a display of ice sculptures, then decided to lure the 16-year-old to his car from the Chicago Greyhound Bus Terminal. He was on his way to Omaha from Nebraska. Gacy drove him around Chicago, showed him the sights, then back to his house where he told McCoy he could stay the night. He even offered him a ride to the station in the morning in time to catch his next bus. According to Gacy, he woke up early in the morning to see McCoy standing in his bedroom doorway with a knife. Gacy got out of bed and charged at McCoy, who raised his hands in surrender, still holding the knife. It cut Gacy’s arm in the panic. Gacy, who was much larger than McCoy, wrestled the knife from him and banged his head against the wall. Gacy kicked him multiple times. He wrestled him to the ground, straddled him, and stabbed him repeatedly. Then, Gacy claims he cleaned the knife in the bathroom. When he went into the kitchen, he found an open carton of eggs and a slab of bacon, unsliced, on the table, which was set for two.

This poor boy just wanted to make him breakfast, as a thank you, and he died for it. All because he didn’t leave the knife in the kitchen.

Wendy swirled the remainder of her drink in her glass, then held her hand steady and watched the wine continue to swirl and splash around the curves, briefly gaining momentum before slowing to a soft ripple.

Maybe Gacy would have killed him anyways. Maybe he never meant to drive him to the station that morning. Maybe McCoy was always meant to end up in Gacy’s crawl space, covered in concrete.

She took a sip and turned the page.

#op*#mindhunter #mindhunteredit #mindhunter fic #a tide in a city #wendy carr #bill tench #holden ford #ted gunn #gregg smith

27 notes · View notes

driedgreentomatoes · 3 years

Text

Masterlist

I’ve been trying to write again for a long while now and while it’s coming very slowly, I might as well share what I already have.

Declassified: HR File_Daniels, J. (Whiskey) - ongoing Collab with @just-here-for-the-moment. One day we just decided what if this mustached yeehaw bitch had to face some consequences for his numerous shenanigans. So here’s our (hopefully funny) drabbles about the himbo:

File 01_Subject: Accounting Clerk

File 02_Subject: Agent Whiskey’s expense report, behavior

File 03_Subject: Agent Whiskey - report of inappropriate language

File 04_Subject: Accounting clerk Georgia S. resigned this morning

File 05_Subject: Kudos from Senator Tan

File 06_Subject: New Agent Vodka coming Monday to Kentucky HQ

File 07_Subject: Polaroids in the Ladies room

File 08: Subject_Distracting Vodka and inappropriate nicknames in the office

File 09_Subject: Minor issue on mission report, good job this Fall

File 10_Subject: Out sick Tues Dec 21

File 11_Subject: Statesman HQ 2010 Holiday Party

File 12_Subject: Wardrobe Department incident

File 13_Subject: Agent Whiskey’s behavior at the gun range

File 14_Subject: Venice mission this weekend

The Origin Story A salacious rumor about Jack? Say it ain’t so! Another rumor? This time at the gun range… Series tag list: Please use this Google Form signup if you want to be added to our tag list for this series only!

Thank you for reading!

#agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x you #kingsman fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #agent whiskey fanfiction

11 notes · View notes

pedrostories · 3 years

Text

Hi! I write for several different Pedro characters but I wanted to submit an ongoing humor series that I co-write with @driedgreentomatoes

We are exploring the debauchery and absurdity of Agent Whiskey’s personnel records in our series “Declassified: HR File_Daniels, J. (Whiskey)”

Champ sent over several large boxes of declassified HR files covering the past decade of Whiskey’s career with Statesman, and @driedgreentomatoes and I are just tickled pink to be able to dig through these records and publish the best of the best for y’all.

Thank you for considering our submission for Pedro Stories!

#submission #thank you for your submission!#recommendations #fic rec

2 notes · View notes

bigdlittleibignlittleozzo-moved · 3 years

Text

@hiddenxshadowsx sent: Eagle, Falcon, Cardinal

Eagle- is your muse courageous or cowardly? What might cause them to act in the opposite manner, if anything?

“Shit,” Tony ducked behind the door of the sedan as another bullet was fired in his direction, wishing yet again that he hadn’t come into work today. Why was it, whenever he was feeling under the weather, that bullets were fired at him? It didn’t seem right, or fair. He should get a break. He was catching a cold, wasn’t that enough? “Come on, I just had to fill out the paperwork for new window replacement last week, don’t make me do it again. The people in requisitions hate me.”

Sure enough, the window above his head shattered, and he groaned before glancing up, deciding that he could take a couple of shots at their suspect before he had to duck back down again. He did so, taking aim as carefully as he could in the split second that he had before firing, rapidly firing off three shots before ducking his head down again, taking a few breaths, as deep as he could. The deep breaths resulted in a wracking cough that had him moaning in pain. He really shouldn’t have come to work today.

“Fuck,” he was having trouble breathing, and he was going to have to retreat, but that wasn’t his MO. He never retreated. One would say he was almost stupidly courageous, to the point of it being detrimental to his health, but he had to think about his lungs, about the fact that he’d left his inhaler in his pack on the on the other side of the car. “I hate giving up,” but he had no choice, not when he was coughing the way he was. “Fuck. Boss,” he called out, reluctant, another coughing fit starting as Gibbs looked over at him, “Boss, I’m gonna have to retreat. Can’t get my inhaler. Can’t fucking breathe.”

He fired off a few more rounds while he was waiting for Gibbs’ response, catching one perp by sheer luck, but there were still three more. Gibbs waved him back, and Tony breathed a quiet sigh of relief, diving across the car, not caring that he looked like he was taking the easy way out. He couldn’t fucking breathe. He was no use to anyone if he couldn’t fucking breathe. For this one time and this one time only, he would take the coward’s way out and retreat.

Falcon- what is your muse's biggest accomplishment? Do they like to show it off, or keep it to themselves?

“You wanted to see me, Director?” Tony stepped into the Director’s office, moving to stand at attention in front of the Director’s desk. Shepard was signing papers but she held up a finger to indicate that she would be just another minute. He waited in silence, wondering what this was about. He’d been on his best behavior lately and their undercover op was going well, so he couldn’t think of anything that would bring him into the Director’s office, couldn’t think of any reason she would have to call him to task.

Finally, Shepard looked up from the papers on the desk, shuffling them into a neat pile and laying her hands, folded together, on top of them. “Tony,” her smile was warm, but it felt off, like it was fake somehow, “I was reviewing personnel files recently and I saw the most interesting thing in yours.”

“Huh,” Tony laughed, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly, his whole body wearing the sort of embarrassed jock air that he’d adopted over the years. It was a look he knew he’d perfected, one he wore like a second skin, “Well, you see, Madam Director, I can explain. That summer in Cancun really shouldn’t be on there. I mean, I was twenty. What can I say? The alcohol was flowing freely, there were hot coeds. There’s only so much temptation a guy can resist before he does something stupid. If I’d known that it was going to go on my job record, I never would’ve done it, of course.”

“Cute, Tony, but not what I’m talking about,” Shepard gave him a wry smile that told him she’d seen right through his act. She was good at that, seeing right through his act. Not many people at NCIS were, but Jenny Shepard was an excellent undercover agent, just like Tony was, and she could spot a cover just as easily as he could. “How long did you think you could hide your Master’s degree? A Master’s in Criminology is nothing to be ashamed of. You should be proud of your accomplishment, not hiding it away.”

“No offense, Madam Director, but I didn’t want my accomplishment to be paraded around NCIS,” the back of Tony’s neck was red. He really hadn’t wanted anybody to know about his degree, hadn’t really seen a point in letting NCIS know about it, but it was SOP to let HR know about any changes to educational accomplishments, so he’d updated his file, the same way he would with a new address. “It doesn’t affect the way I do my job, so I saw no reason to mention it.”

“It may not affect the way you do your job now,” Shepard agreed, and her smile was oily, like she had something up her sleeve. Tony didn’t trust this smile. It was a politician’s smile. “But it could pave the road for you further down the road. You know that there are certain positions at NCIS that can only be held by someone who has a Master’s degree or higher, correct?”

“I do,” he agreed, cagily, rocking back on his heels. He knew where this was going. “But I have no interest in a political career, Madam Director, nor do I want to sit in your seat one day. My Master’s is something that I got to prove to myself that I could do it, not because I was interested in pursuing a political career.”

“Hm,” Shepard frowned. “That’s a shame, Tony. You could make a fine Director one day. Maybe you should rethink your stance on politics.”

Cardinal- how does your muse recover from strong emotions? How do they recuperate?

Kate was dead.

Even if they hadn’t gotten along, she was his partner. She’d trusted Tony to have her back, and he’d failed her. He’d betrayed her trust, hadn’t been able to protect her when he was supposed to, hadn’t been able to keep her safe, and now she was dead. Even though logic told him it wasn’t his fault, Tony couldn’t help but hold himself responsible. If only he’d been quicker, if only he hadn’t been sick, they would’ve caught this terrorist cell faster, would’ve caught Ari faster, and then Kate wouldn’t be on a slab in autopsy.

It had been a week, and Tony still couldn’t believe it. He’d drank himself to sleep every night for the past week, barely managing to sober up enough to go to work, but it still wasn’t enough. It didn’t bring Kate back, didn’t put a dent in the guilt that was eating him alive. But it was all he had.

He raised the bottle to his lips again. He hadn’t even bothered with a glass, hadn’t bothered with a glass in a while if he was being honest with himself. Wasn’t drinking nice enough whiskey to need a glass. There was no point in wasting the good stuff on getting drunk like this. He wasn’t tasting any of it. No. This served one purpose and one alone, to get him drunk enough to sleep, drunk enough that he could ignore the guilt and grief, the sadness that he felt when he thought about that empty desk across from his, when he felt the brain matter that had splattered across his face. Didn’t matter how many showers he took, he could still feel her brain splattered across his face.

He’d thought about doing something about it, but he couldn’t. Ari was still out there. He had to catch the bastard who’d done this. Had to see Ari find his way into a body bag. Had to make sure that Ari got what was coming to him. This wasn’t about the law anymore. This was about revenge. Ari was going to get what was coming to him; Tony was going to make sure of that. He was going to sink a bullet into the guy’s head himself. It was the least the bastard deserved. Maybe once Ari was dead Tony would stop feeling so guilty.

#DiNozzo's DiRambles; Drabbles #Drabbles #behind the badge #tw alcoholism #tw suicide #tw suicidal thoughts

1 note · View note

falcxns · 3 years

Text

PINTEREST. WANTED CONNECTIONS.

BASICS.

full name: ana bryce-laporte aka falcon aka who put this bitch in charge

age: forty-one (but also, it’s rude to ask a lady her age)

gender & pronouns: cis woman (she/her)

date of birth: november 20th, 1979

hometown: dallas, texas (grew up in new zealand)

sexual orientation: bisexual

relationship status: single n ready 2 mingle

religion: catholic (non-practising)

nationality: dual nationality - american & new zealand

APPEARANCE.

face claim: tessa thompson

height: 5ft”3 (usually around 5”6 with her shoes)

tattoos: too many to count, but only half of them are on view at any time (with the other half reserved for intimate lovers)

piercings: three sets in her ears, nose, closed eyebrow piercing

personal style: grunge, punk, black clothing

other notable physical characteristics: a dozen scars picked up from her work, each of which has a killer story behind it.

PERSONALITY.

traits: witty, private, easy going, impulsive, stubborn, protective

zodiac: virgo

mbti: ESFP

moral alignment: chaotic good

hobbies/interests: gymnastics, hiking, bar crawls (if that counts), tinder hookups

habits: excessive drinking, smoking, swearing

FAMILY.

parents: aristo bryce-laporte (father), maria bryce-laporte (mother)

siblings: n/a

pets: a stray cat she adopted called peanut

other notable relatives/figures in their life: n/a - maternal and paternal grandparents dead, parents both only children.

BACKGROUND.

(tw: alcohol, smoking, drugs, murder death)

was born to two aspiring american diplomats who quickly cut their teeth on the international scene working for the state department in new zealand & the pacific islands. her parent’s, bless their hearts, truly believed in diplomacy, accountability and international cooperation. ana isn’t so naive.

although she was technically born in texas, ana was born and raised in wellington, new zealand and has the kiwi accent to show for it, even after all these years. it’s particularly pronounced when she’s angry, or been drinking.

a little excessive ball of energy, she would have been a handful for any parents - let alone those with little time on their hands. unsure what to do with their loud, hyperactive child, they enrolled her into every sport they could think of, hoping it would wear her down. football and dance never stuck, but ana fell in love with gymnastics. she spent most of her life working towards the goal of olympic trials.

ambitions of a gold medal fell apart when she was a teeanger. on paper, it may have been a hamstring injury that ended her hopes, but the truth was that ana used it as an excuse to dip out, chafing under the rigour of training and knowing she didn’t have the self control to stay focused.

spent most of her teenage years developing lifelong bad habits instead - a taste for whiskey, rolled cigarettes and petty crimes (although she’s mostly reined in the rule breaking, doesn’t look great on her HR file).

her recruiter turned out to be one her parent’s close colleagues at the state department, someone she’d known since she was five and referred to as “uncle”. having given up gymnastics, ana didn’t have any solid career goals and was terrified of being left in the lurch by her peers - so when her favourite uncle came along and made her an offer, she couldn’t refuse. she thought she saw obsidian clearly - high paced thrills, living out her james bond fantasy. reality was a little different.

as an organisation, she can’t stand obsidian. she’s always resented orders, hates the feeling of continually being assessed and is shit scared about what happens if you fuck up. that’s traded off against the work itself - for most of her career, ana was special agent tasked with taking out and extracting targets, utilising her gymnastics skills to get in and out of tight spots. she became addicted to the danger too, high on the idea that it could all fall apart at any moment.

but the thing she loved most about obsidian was isabelle. a french make up artist recruited the same time as her, the pair were fast friends, then partners and eventually - lovers. ana may have been utterly uninterested in climbing the ranks, content to stay at a low clearance level if it kept her doing tasks she adored, isabelle was the opposite - and asked ana to apply her talent so they could rise together. for the sake of love, ana agreed.

of course, it all fell apart - about five years ago now. it was supposed to be a routine mission - until ana’s team got into a tight spot. when shit hit the fan, ana cockily assumed she could take out the target and save her girlfriend. she was wrong. isabelle ended up dead - and ana has blamed herself ever since.

she’s been grieving for five years now - and become the worst version of herself; closed off, emotionally detached from most of her coworkers, indulging in her vices and throwing herself into her missions just to feel something. she’s quite skilled at hiding the true extent of her messiness from obsidian, which is probably why...

...after red dawn’s team leader “retired” (ana doesn’t know if they offed him or not and isn’t going to put her neck on the line by asking), she was hauled into her superior’s office and asked to assume leadership. she knew that if she said no, she’d probably be fired - or worse - and since she isn’t great at thinking things through - agreed.

that was two weeks ago. now, she’s about to take control of her first mission, a position she’s completely unsuitable for.

#intro #about

1 note · View note

gospelofthechosen · 5 years

Photo

story: Dean had started it. Or maybe Kat had. In the end, it didn’t matter who had started it. Only who got the final word. Because Sam was right: This prank stuff is stupid, and it always escalates. summary: Someone’s been messing with Sam’s laptop... word count: 2.3k warnings: language, alcohol, references to porn a/n: Happy anniversary to Gospel of the Chosen! This is a short mini series between Act I and Act II. Love and miss my kids, love and miss all of you.

Kat was on top of the world. After a week on lockdown at Bobby’s, two days trapped in the car with the Winchesters, weeks under Ellen’s watchful eye at the Roadhouse, and days crammed in the Impala before that, she was finally, finally alone in her own car.

After their faux-family dinner, they’d stayed at Bobby’s for a few days. Kat would never admit it, but she’d been a little nervous. She’d been to the house on more than one occasion, and spent enough time talking to Bobby to feel comfortable with him. At least, she was pretty sure that he’d dropped the threat of kicking her into next week for hurting the boys. But spending downtime at Bobby’s felt different.

Singer Salvage was clearly home to Sam and Dean. Sam helped himself to any books in the library, and Dean spent most of his time out in the yard working on his car. At night, they all drank beer and watched old cowboy movies on Bobby’s crappy TV. Kat excused herself as politely as she could. She could still hear their laughter and light-hearted arguing from the spare bedroom where she stayed curled up with her laptop. She might’ve learned all the ins and outs of Bobby’s linen cabinets and kitchen drawers, but she didn’t belong here. She desperately wanted to escape out on a case, but that wasn’t exactly the deal she’d made with Castiel. Sam and Dean were her bodyguards now. So she just had to suck it up and deal until their batteries were recharged and they were ready to hit the road.

Sam had obviously picked up on her discomfort. He tried to bribe her with bagels and burgers, whiskey and wings. Most afternoons she’d sit with him in the library just so he’d stop annoying her. All of Bobby’s manuscripts and notes were very interesting, of course. But it wasn’t exactly her idea of light reading. She wasn’t interested in diving into thousands of accounts of pain and misery without an objective. She just wanted something to do.

Bobby had been the one who’d come to her rescue.

“Here,” he’d said on day four, shoving one of his duct-taped phones into her hands. “Answer it, deal with it, make a note of it. Aliases are labeled on the wall, so just make sure you don’t mix ‘em up.”

“Mike Kaiser?” Kat asked, peering at the note over the FBI receiver. “I’m not a bad actress, Bobby, but I don’t think I’m that good.”

“Just say you’re my secretary and take a message. Or better yet, tell them DC has jurisdiction and they can shove their complaints right up their own ass.”

Kat raised an eyebrow at him.

“Usually works for me,” he offered with a shrug.

It wasn’t exactly a shocker that it didn’t work for Kat. Men in high government positions didn’t take kindly to being told to go fuck themselves by an uppity secretary. Kat didn’t have a real job she was worried about losing, but the last thing she needed was for some fed to file an HR complaint about a woman who didn’t exist and blow some hunter’s cover. So she used her most polite tone for as long as she could, and practiced drawing devil’s traps from memory while the bureaucrats droned on about stolen cases and career integrity.

“Of course, Agent Sadusky,” she said sweetly, on one of their final afternoons. “I’ll pass on the message. And if Assistant Director Kaiser thinks it’s worth a response, he’ll give you a call.”

She hung up before the man could reply.

“Don’t hold your breath, asshole.”

“You good?” chuckled Sam as he wandered into the kitchen. “You look uh…”

“Murderous?”

“Frustrated.”

“Yeah, well that’s not a surprise,” Kat groaned, wiping her eyes. “I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this before, but sometimes I’m glad we’re not actually working for the federal government.”

“I’ll drink to that.” He passed her a beer from the fridge, which she took gratefully. “Which one’s worse? Working for the feds or working for Ellen?”

“Ha. Tough call. Hunters tip, but only if you let them brag. At least the feds can’t see me rolling my eyes over the phone. They also can’t grope me, which means I don’t need to assault someone every couple hours.”

“That’s a downside?” Sam asked cheekily. “But you love kicking the crap out of guys.”

Kat frowned thoughtfully, but gave it to him.

“What about you?” she asked, returning the phone to the hook. “What are you up to?”

“About to make a supply run. You need anything?”

“Nah, I’m good. But if you’re going out, can I borrow your laptop? I got a call about some bodies in Florida. Might be a case.”

“Hey, knock yourself out. Just don’t work too hard.”

He jogged out the front of the house without a second thought. Kat waited until she was certain he was gone. Then she wrapped up her notes from the phone and moved into the library.

She settled herself behind Bobby’s desk, feeling even more out of place than she did in the rest of the house. She tried not to think about how ornate the desk was, or how old the papers and books on top were. All she needed was Sam’s laptop, and her tiny case notebook.

The call she’d gotten hadn’t been from a hunter. It was something more of a tip line Bobby had set up, where feds and cops he’d worked with in the past could call with their questions. Kat had spoken to a very concerned deputy who had was dealing with a pile of bodies. All women, all heartless, all buried in shallow graves in a park. Kat would have assumed werewolf, if it weren’t for the graves. They didn’t often double back to hide their victims. It very well could be a run of the mill serial killer, but she wanted to do some research before she passed on the case. And possibly take the asshole out anyway.

It was an hour or two before anyone interrupted her.

“What’s the word, Tinkerbell?”

“Beer,” Kat said without looking up. “Gonna need another word.”

“Please.”

The fridge clinked, and a few seconds later a bottle dropped into her vision. She accepted it wordlessly, still scanning the crime scene pictures in front of her. There had to be something she missed.

“Whatcha working on?” Dean asked, peering over her shoulder. “Yeowch. Eat your heart out.”

“It’s not a werewolf,” she muttered, more to herself than him. “Wrong part of the lunar cycle, no blind kills. But it’s still just the hearts.”

“Could be a skinwalker,” he suggested. “Or just about anything else that eats long pig. Just because some monsters can eat anything don’t mean they don’t have preferences.”

“A monster with standards and taste. Just what I need.”

She took a couple more notes, but closed out the pictures. She didn’t want to look at their faces without any solutions.

Dean was still hovering behind her. His ring made a clinking noise against the glass as he tapped his fingers on the bottle. “So uh…you wrapping up soon?”

“I guess. Why?”

“Nothing, nothing. Just wanted to hop on the computer.”

“Alright. I’ll let you know when I’m done.”

“Uh huh…Could I just borrow it for a hot sec? Give it back in ten minutes?”

Kat cut her eyes to him suspiciously. “Why?”

“None of your business,” he said stoutly. When she continued to glare at him, his frown turned into a familiar, leering smirk. “Look, a guy’s got needs. I need to do some stuff I’m not proud of…well, actually I’m really proud of, but you’re not invited.”

“God, you’re disgusting,” she sighed, pushing back from the desk. “Take it.”

“Thank you!” he said in a singsong voice, snatching it up and hightailing out of the room.

“Just sanitize it for the love of God! And if Sam asks, I didn’t see this!”

He didn’t answer her. Just slammed the door to the bathroom. She slipped on some headphones and did her best not to think about the conversation she’d just had.

The next day, they were packing their bags. Sam had agreed that her find was interesting enough to merit a visit to Florida. Bobby passed off a few of his more helpful books, and then they hit the road. Kat hadn’t realized how much she’d missed it until they hit the interstate. She could sit back in her Prius and enjoy the silence. She didn’t have to tune out the shitty cassettes or put up with the smell of stale beer and fast food wrappers. There were no annoying side glances or pervy jokes. Just her and the open road and the wind in her hair.

They drove until nightfall and stopped at a motel in Tennessee. Sam and Dean took care of the rooms, and Kat volunteered to pick up dinner. By the time she was strolling up to the Winchesters’ room with their takeout, the screaming had already started.

“Dean, how many times do I have to tell you not to touch my stuff? It’s my one thing! You have your own laptop! So use your own damn laptop!”

“How many times do I gotta say I didn’t do it? Cool your jets, man, it wasn’t me.”

“Oh, right! And I guess my computer searched Busty Asian Beauties on its own?”

“Maybe it did. Your laptop’s got better taste than you.”

Kat let herself in, trying very hard to keep her face impassive. “Grub’s up. What’s going on?”

Dean made a beeline for the food, while Sam rested his hands on his hips like a suburban mother.

“Someone messed with my laptop,” he said snidely, “and now I can’t get it to work.”

“It’s frozen?”

“No, it’s—I have no idea what’s wrong with it. I’m typing and none of the right letters are coming up. I can’t write emails, can’t search online. All I can do is click.”

“You think it’s a virus?” she asked, passing him his food.

“Ha, probably. Considering my browser history is full of porn sites.”

“Oh, gross.”

“Hey,” Dean interrupted defensively, a few noodles hanging loose from his lips. “Watch your step, man. Last time you accused me of fucking with your stuff, it was the Trickster.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Sam laughed. “When the bodies start dropping I’ll be sure to issue a full apology.”

“I’m just saying, man. Might not be me. Kat, you like bustyasianbeauties.com?”

“Uh, no,” he chuckled, plopping down on a free bed with her rice. “Not exactly bookmarked on my homepage.”

“Well then, we’ve got our answer. It was Bobby.”

He smiled proudly. Kat smothered her laughter with more rice. And Sam looked positively on edge of breaking something in half. He closed his laptop with an incredible amount of self-control. Then he grabbed the closest thing—a half-empty water bottle—and hurled it across the room at Dean’s face. It hit the mark with a thunk, and Dean yelped while Kat burst into laughter. Sam stormed into the bathroom and slammed the door behind him.

“Fuck,” Dean groaned, rubbing at his head. “Not funny, Kat.”

“Of course it is,” she giggled. “You sound like a startled pigeon.”

“Alright, yeah. Laugh it up. Guess this was you, right?”

“Uh, no? You were the one defiling Sam’s computer, remember?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t download any viruses,” he defended. “I’ve been surfing porn sites long enough to know how to avoid the dodgy stuff. And if I didn’t do it, then it must’ve been you.”

“I wish. But I don’t know anything about computers, just like I don’t know anything about cars. I figured it was you.”

Dean frowned at her for a few seconds, but ultimately shrugged and went back to his food. “Huh. Maybe it was.”

Kat gaped at him. “You…don’t even remember?”

“Nah. It was heat of the moment, you know. And I’m uh—usually less discerning when I’m on someone else’s laptop. So you uh, might wanna throw a password on yours.”

She wrinkled her nose, and Dean smirked. Kat threw a napkin at him.

“Laugh now, Dean. But if you infected Sam’s computer, it means he’s out of service. Which means you and I are gonna be on research duty.”

That made him groan, and he slunk down in his chair. “Damn it. The price I pay for getting off.”

He grumbled into his food, grabbing the paper so he could start reviewing the details of the case they were heading toward. Kat speared one of her dumplings and kept her smile to herself. This prank war was going to get messy.

#supernatural fanfiction #supernatural #ocappreciation #fyeahspnocs #fyeahsupernaturalocs #prank wars #prompt #prompts

14 notes · View notes

mischiefandspirits · 4 years

Text

Iron Legion (13/?)

Never let it be said that Tony Stark ever does things by half. He might have grown up with little family, but he wasn’t about to keep it that way.

Tony Stark was seventeen when his first child was born, and that was just the beginning.

For Masterpost, AO3, and Fanfiction

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

Cerberus, Part 1

Tony Stark was thirty-eight when his eighth, ninth, and tenth children were born.

“What about making it so it could set itself on fire?”

Bruce frowned and looked over at Peter. “Why would we want Ultron to set itself on fire?”

“I think that one was for me,” Tony chuckled over the phone.

“Yessir, Mr. Stark,” Peter agreed, looking up from his homework. “Although Ultron being able to set itself on fire would be cool too.”

“I don’t know if Pepsi would like a suit that sets itself on fire. I’ll think about it, though. Now Ultron on the other hand -”

“How about we figure out how to make it work before giving it pyromaniac tendencies,” Bruce interjected.

“Jolly Green, the kid ruins you. You never let me have fun when he’s there. I just wanna blow things up with you!” Tony pouted.

Bruce couldn’t see him -- he’d turned down the phone Tony had offered him -- but he knew the billionaire was pouting.

“I wanna blow things up too,” Peter said, looking excited.

“No, to both of you. Tony, he’s barely twelve.”

“Exactly! He’s right at that age when kids love blowing things up!”

“We need to be good examples or Jen’s word won’t be enough for his parents to let him keep coming.”

“Dad likes you. He won’t make me stop coming,” Peter disagreed. “And Mom trusts Jen’s judgment.”

“See, we’re good.”

“I’d rather hear that from his parents firsthand,” Bruce snorted.

“We need to make up permission slips. Fri, make Peter a slip so Bruce will stop being a wet blanket.”

“On it, Boss.”

“Tony,” Bruce sighed. He’d have to explain to Jen. Hopefully, Peter’s parents could take a joke.

“So, have you heard from the others?” he asked, deciding it was probably best to get the billionaire’s mind on something else.

“Nothing from Arendelle, but I checked in on Capsicle and Fury’s kids. Bird-boy’s off the grid, taking some time to himself. After what happened, I can’t blame him. Cap and Romanoff have been running missions for S.H.I.E.L.D. Last I heard, they were in Rome to -”

“Pretty sure we shouldn’t be talking about S.H.I.E.L.D. around the kid,” Bruce pointed out.

“They’re jerks,” Peter said, turning back to his tablet. “They bug Dad a lot.”

Bruce frowned. “Peter, what does your dad do?”

He shrugged. “Mechanic.”

“Ominous,” Tony hummed. “I agree, though. S.H.I.E.L.D. are jerks.”

“Still not giving Fury that assist he asked for?” Bruce asked. He supposed the kid heard plenty of other classified information in the lab, what was a little more?

“Make one joke about how my repulsor tech could prevent further engine issues and suddenly I’m on S.H.I.E.L.D.’s payroll? Yeah, no. I finally got him to back off two months ago, and that was only because Fri went and transferred him to legal. They explained to him that the company would sue him if he kept it up. The tech patents are company property after all. If S.H.I.E.L.D. wants the tech, they’ll have to buy it and have us install the engines as is company policy.”

“I bet Fury didn’t take that well.”

“Wouldn’t know, but someone did try hacking in. Can’t prove it was them, but it’s quite a coincidence if it wasn’t.”

“They get anything?”

“Nope,” Tony said, popping the p. “Jay detected them immediately and they cut their losses when he started to return the favor.”

“Jerks,” Peter muttered.

“Yup. Legal slapped a ban on them when they heard. They’re still angry with Romanoff so they don’t care what we can or can’t prove. One of the girls told Fury that if it wasn’t them, then he should put his spies to use and figure out who it actually was. Only then will they lift the ban. Until then he could, in her words, take a flying leap into a spiked pit. I tried to talk Pepper into giving her a raise, but she said it gave the wrong impression.”

Bruce shook his head while Peter snickered.

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

“Hey Jay, how’re the kids doing?” Tony asked, collapsing onto the couch. God, it was good to be home. Maybe he’d go down and visit Bruce later. They hadn’t hung out much since setting Ultron aside.

“Miss Nebula is busy with work. Dum-E, U, and Master Peter are playing with Peter’s LEGOs in his room. F.R.I.D.A.Y. is going through your emails. J.O.C.A.S.T.A., P.L.A.T.O., and H.O.M.E.R. started bickering again and as such have thirteen minutes remaining in time out. Would you like me to check in on Master Harley as well?”

“I’ll call him later. Remind Peter and the twins that those two need to be back in the lab before bed. No sleepovers.

“Of course, Sir.”

“Boss, I’ve got something you might want to see.”

“What is it?” he asked and an email appeared on the TV screen.

“I’m not sure.”

All that was in the email was an IP address and one word: Hill.

“Jay, trace the email. Fri, check the IP,” Tony said, getting to his feet.

Both agreed as Tony walked over to the bar, pulling out his phone.

“Stark, how did you get this number?” Agent Hill asked as soon as she picked up.

“I could ask you how you knew it was me, but those are both stupid questions.” Tony grabbed a bottle of whiskey and poured out a measure. “What’s up with the IP?”

“I -”

“Hill?”

Tony’s eyebrows rose in curiosity at the Captain’s call and he took a sip.

“I have to go. Just keep an eye on the IP. You’ll understand soon enough.”

Tony frowned when she hung up on him. “Did you guys get anything?”

“The email was sent from a coffee shop in Washington, D.C.,” J.A.R.V.I.S. said. “I didn’t have time to trace the call completely, but it came from the same general area.”

“I didn’t get anything from the IP either. It’s completely inactive,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. added.

“Keep watching it, just in case. I don’t know what’s going on with Hill, but I don’t want to be caught off guard. Jay, keep an eye on our firewalls to make sure S.H.I.E.L.D.’s not trying to sneak in again.”

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

“BOSS!” F.R.I.D.A.Y. shouted and Tony jerked into a sitting position, his phone falling to the ground.

“Sweetie, Dad’s got a heart condition remember?” Tony breathed, grabbing his chest dramatically.

“Sorry, but the IP has suddenly gone active and… Boss, all of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s files have been posted online.”

Tony froze. “By all, please tell me you don’t mean -”

“All of them. Every single one.”

“Jay, Fri, grab them all. Scoop them up and encrypt everything!”

“I don’t think even the two of us could take all of it on, Sir.”

“Do what you can. The triplets aren’t ready for this kind of stuff yet. I’ll help as soon as I can get to the lab,” he said, snatching up his phone and running to the elevator. As he stepped inside, he unlocked his phone and paused when he saw the excessive amount of texts Bruce had sent him during the short time the phone had been on the ground. He hit the call button. “Bruce -”

“Have you seen the news?”

“News?”

“The S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters in D.C. just blew up. They’re not calling it that, obviously, but I recognize the building.”

“I guess that explains why all their files are suddenly on the net,” Tony said, slipping through the elevator doors before they were fully open and rushing to his desk.

“WHAT!?”

“Yeah, so I’ve got a lot to do. Jay and Fri can only do so much on their own.” He scowled as he brought up the file dump, seeing some copies already being made. “Do me a favor and call Pepper,” he said, getting to work. “Have her send a group from the Stark Relief Foundation to help out in D.C. and get her to tell Nebula and Happy what’s up. I’m sending them a link to the files. He and Rhodey need to set up some teams with a few friends I’ve got in the CIA and FBI and Nebula can set up some of the cybersecurity team on sorting through the files. There is going to be a lot of spies in need of immediate exfils.”

“On it,” Bruce said. “I’ll also tell Jen in case she can help. I’d offer to come, but think I’m probably better off where I am.”

“Yeah, until we figure out what’s going on here, stick to Cali. Rhodey or Haps will give you a call if they think they need the big guy,” Tony said distractedly.

“I’ll leave you to it, then.”

Tony ended the call, not looking away from the screen.

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

“You’re getting a call,” Peter said, rolling up to Tony atop U.

“Who is it? And get off your sibling. They’re not built to hold you like that,” Tony said, barely taking his focus off the screen.

He, J.A.R.V.I.S., and F.R.I.D.A.Y. had grabbed everything they could after hours of work, but he knew a lot of files had been copied before they could finish. Now they were helping Nebula’s team sort through the files. There were operatives that needed to be rescued before their covers were blown, S.H.I.E.L.D. facilities that needed to be cleared out before they could be ransacked, HYDRA operations that needed to be brought down before they could go to ground (because HYDRA had infiltrated S.H.I.E.L.D., thanks for the update, Cap), and so much more. With all of that excluding any files that could have been destroyed before they could get to them.

“It’s legal.”

Tony sighed and took the phone. He put a finger to his lips to remind his kids to keep quiet then answered the phone on speaker. “If this doesn’t concern the HYDRA/S.H.I.E.L.D. lovechild, then I’m hanging up.”

“It does, in a sense. We just got a flag from Human Resources. Someone with S.H.I.E.L.D. on both their resume and background check just sat down for an interview.”

“Didn’t think we were watching HR,” Tony muttered, sending a file to Rhodey’s team.

“It had been set up before, when we thought they were hacking us.”

“Was probably HYDRA,” Tony noted.

“Same thing,” the unnamed legal person growled and Tony snorted. “We were going to inform HR to toss the resume, but Walters said she recognized the name so we figured it was best to check in first. HR’s pretty excited about her.”

“Name?”

“Maria Hill.”

Tony rolled his eyes. Did she think he’d take pity on her since she’d given him that joke of a heads up? “Toss it.”

“You got it, Boss.”

“Pepper’s the boss; I’m just the idea machine. You guys keep up the good work, tell Jen thanks for the help again, and remind the others they’re doing great. Now if you don’t mind, I’m trying to keep the world from blowing up.”

“Of course, Sir. Sorry,” legal said breathlessly and Tony assumed he was trying not to laugh, judging by Peter’s muffled snickers.

Tony hung up and gave Peter a gentle shove. “Didn’t I tell you to get off them?”

“U can carry five times my weight!”

“Get out of here, you monkey.”

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

“They showed up here?” Rhodey asked.

“Had Birdbrain with them, too.” Tony opened his eyes to see his friend’s surprised face.

“They wanted a place to stay for a bit,” Pepper tisked, voice cold as she ran her fingers through Tony’s hair. They were curled up on the couch with his head in her lap while Rhodey sat in an armchair next to them.

“After that mess they dropped in your lap a couple months ago?” Rhodey huffed. “Please tell me you kicked them right back out the door.”

“I did.”

“Only because they’d find out about Peter,” Pepper pointed out with a glare.

“They wanted to stay in the Penthouse?”

“There’s nowhere else for them to stay,” Tony said, waving it off. “I’m not shoving them in a staff apartment and Bruce only has one guest room on his floor. Even if he agreed to share, there’s no way those three would bunk together in a single room.”

Rhodey chuckled at the idea. “Where’d they go then?”

“I took pity on them and booked them a suite at a nearby hotel that’s good for keeping quiet about their clientele. They really just needed a place to crash for a bit. Romanoff and Barton have decided to join Cap on his hunt for his old war buddy so they’re just tracking down a new lead.”

“There wasn’t anything in the data dump about the Winter Soldier, we checked,” Nebula said and the three turned to see her sitting at the bar, working on a tablet.

“When did you get here?” Pepper asked, looking around to be sure no one else had snuck up on them.

“Just now,” Nebula said. “I heard about those three showing up, but more importantly, so did legal. I figured I should warn you that they’re moving to bar all three of them from the premises. There’s still some debate on Roger’s behalf, but most of them have lumped him in with S.H.I.E.L.D. since he’s worked solely with them since his return.”

“I’ll talk to them,” Pepper said.

“Do you have to?” Rhodey hummed.

Pepper blinked, thinking. “They shouldn’t be banned, but having security keep eyes on them whenever they’re here couldn’t hurt,” she allowed. “They haven’t exactly proven themselves to be trustworthy.”

“They’re not that bad,” Tony muttered and Pepper patted his head condescendingly.

“Is that why we’re not putting them to use?” Nebula asked, ignoring his comment and gesturing to her tablet. “If they’ve hit a roadblock then they should help clean up their mess.”

“I considered that, and Ross agreed, but his Europol buddy we’re working with shares legal’s distrust. Apparently, she had a bit of a grudge against S.H.I.E.L.D. and HYDRA even before the reveal. She doesn’t want them brought in without someone there to make sure they don’t pull a D.C. again,” Tony explained.

“I could manage them,” Rhodey offered.

“We need you on the airforce team,” Nebula argued. “You’re our only military contact.”

“Actually, I’ve been thinking about taking them out to a couple of the more dangerous bunkers now that we’ve got the files reasonably managed,” Tony said. “I called Foster and Thor agreed to help out. They haven’t had any better luck tracking down the glow stick then we have.”

“That will make Ellis happy. His people keep asking when the Avengers are going to get involved with taking down HYDRA,” Pepper said with an eye-roll. “As if you, Thor, and Bruce haven’t been doing everything you can.”

“Is Bruce going to join in?” Rhodey asked.

“I haven’t asked, but if he does, he’ll only get involved on an as-needed basis. He’s been getting better thanks to Jen and the Breakroom, but he’s still nervous about Hulking out around others,” Tony said.

“You think Agents Ross and Drew will be okay with him in the field?” Rhodey asked.

“Veronica’s been well tested by both Hulk and She-Hulk and he’s on backup duty, so hopefully. Hulk proved himself against the Chitauri. If Bruce wants to help, he should be allowed.”

“Is Mom going to help too?” Peter asked, popping up from behind the couch.

All four adults jumped in surprise.

“You little sneak, get out of here!” Nebula hissed.

“No eavesdropping,” Tony said, sitting up. “What are you even doing up? Jay, why didn’t you tell me Peter got up?”

“He was thirsty. As he was heading right to you, I didn’t feel the need.”

“Next time one of the kids are eavesdropping, tell me,” he huffed then pointed towards the kitchen. “Drink then straight back to bed, Monkey.”

“Should I tell you that F.R.I.D.A.Y., J.O.C.A.S.T.A., P.L.A.T.O., and H.O.M.E.R. are all eavesdropping?” J.A.R.V.I.S. asked as Peter left.

“Fri is always eavesdropping. Have the babies finished their homework?”

“P.L.A.T.O. and H.O.M.E.R. have.”

“Joe, get back to work. P, Mer, good job, but don’t spy on Dad.”

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

You know what I realized? I don't think anyone's coined onto the theming behind the names for Harley's sector of the family. I've had comments about Teresa being Peter's sister in the comics, but nothing on where I got the names for Harley, Tori, Valeria, or Frank. Aside from the obvious Harley and Keener, the rest of there names are all references, and even a bit of a hint in Harley's case.

If anyone's curious, here's the timeline I'm working with for this story (only including what's been posted. No spoilers)

#tony stark #bruce banner #ca:ws #iron family #peter parker

1 note · View note

just-here-for-the-moment · 2 years

Text

I know it doesn't look like anything much, I know, but that little screenshot above? That's my "Tumblr posts word count" spreadsheet. I am a MASSIVE nerd who loves numbers and I keep a spreadsheet of the approximate word count of each of my fics, the date I post it, and which character it's for. It only includes my solo masterlist, and not the HR Files of Agent Whiskey or anything else that I co-wrote. I JUST BROKE 200,000 words on Tumblr in less than a year!!! How?? HOW? How....

#how?

7 notes · View notes

star-trekkin-across-theuniverse · 7 years

Text

Resource Management, pt6

Word Count: 2627 Tags: @supermoonpanda @rayleyanns @sistasarah-sallysaidso @feelmyroarrrr @anyakinamidala @dirajunara @anotherotter @little-study-bug @rampant-salamander @goodnightwife @samaxraph99 @anotherotter @outside-the-government @kingarthurscat @coyote-in-space @originalpottervengerlock @dolamrothianlady @curiositywillbethedeathofme @superheroesofbothuniverses

If I could make one recommendation to Director Fury about SHIELD it would be to never release employee mortality rates to potential recruits. I didn’t envy him the pile of condolence letters he would be writing. It was bad enough just deactivating the personnel files of the deceased. I saw my name in at least half the files I was working on, which meant I had interacted with each of those victims of the attack on some personal level; I’d either processed their intake paperwork, given them their orientation, or assisted them to navigate through the mysterious coding system for SHIELD paperwork. Each time I recognized a name, my heart tightened.

I was only about a quarter of the way through the first task when I had to take a break. The casualty list was organized numerically by employee ID number. I never knew who was going to come up until I keyed the number into the computer. I was on a roll and picking up speed as the task became more familiar. It sounds like a horrible thing to say, but when you have 300 files to process, you begin to count keystrokes. It took thirteen keystrokes to deactivate a file. And that was only the first part of the process. I still had benefits and insurance to process after each victim was deactivated. So I was focusing on the task at hand, and trying to keep my emotions in check. But when Kate’s name flashed onto the screen, I dropped my coffee cup on the laptop and started crying.

Skye either heard the coffee cup clunk to the floor, or more likely, saw the laptop suddenly drop from the network as my coffee destroyed it. Regardless, she found me, sobbing into my hands. Her small arms wrapped around my back and she nestled into the arm of my chair, stroking my hair and shushing me.

“I can take it from here, Skye,” Phil spoke from behind us, and Skye slipped away. Phil took my hand and pulled me to my feet. “Follow me.”

I let Phil lead me back to his office. He sat me down on the couch and poured me a very generous tumbler of whiskey.

“I can ask Fury to farm this work out to another HR branch, Anna.” Phil sat beside me, and rubbed my back. I took one of those deep gasping breaths, trying to regain control. He handed me a handkerchief. It was so out of place, I forgot for a moment that I was upset, and just stared at it. And then in my mind I saw Kate’s face smiling at me from her personnel file, and was flooded with memories of our week at the academy and couldn’t breathe for the tears and sorrow.

I wiped at my tears ineffectively. Phil pulled me into his arms, and continued rubbing my back.

“I’m sorry,” I managed, between gulps of air. I was beginning to feel like I could fight the tears, fight the sobs that were wracking my body. I fought to steady my breathing. It was to be an on-going battle, I would breathe normally for a moment, then those galloping gasps would hit me again.

“Who?” He didn’t say anything else, but I knew what he was asking.

“Kate.”

“Your partner in crime from last week? Christ, I’m sorry, Anna.” He looked down at me, and brushed a tear away with his thumb. I found the tumbler in my hand and took a long pull from the glass, savouring the burn as it coiled down to my belly. I mostly felt numb, but the liquor was a welcome reminder that I was, at least, still alive. I tossed back the rest of the glass, and slammed it onto the coffee table.

“Who did this?” I asked. “Was it HYDRA?”

“At this point, that is our belief,” He nodded. I looked around for tissue and realized I was going actually have to use the hanky to blow my nose. I stuffed it in my pocket and felt a cold rage descend over me. I stood up, smoothed my shirt, and pulled my hair over my shoulder.

“I think I wrecked that laptop. Is there another one I can use?” I asked. I still sounded tearful, like I might start crying again without notice, but I knew I was ready to get back at my duties.

“Anna, I can talk to Fury about someone a little more distant from this taking this task over,” Phil offered. I looked him dead in the eye.

“No. I knew these people. I worked with them. I may not be in operations, and I may not be able to stop HYDRA, but I can data-process the fuck out of their files so their families don’t have to suffer any more than they already are going to.” I squared my shoulders and managed a weak smile. Phil nodded.

“You’re a warrior, Anna. Just a different brand than me.” He stepped in and pulled me into his arms.

“I’m soft, and weak,” I sniffled, disagreeing.

“No. You’re capable, and intelligent. And you are strong. Did you have any idea how well you tested last week? On the range and the track, you showed the most improvement. You might not be an agent, Anna, but you could have been, had SHIELD steered you that way when you were hired.” Phil held my chin in his hand, forcing me to look at him. I broke away, my eyes filling with tears.

“It doesn’t matter,” I shrugged. “I’m going to find Skye, and get back to work.”

I walked out of Phil’s office and back down to the lounge. Skye had the laptop open and was mopping up the coffee before she attempted to repair the damage I’d done. At least, that’s what it looked like. She heard my approach and looked up at me, giving me a kind smile. Her eyes shone with empathy, and as I felt mine beginning to fill again, I looked away and swallowed the lump in the throat.

“I killed it, right?” I asked.

“I think so,” she nodded toward the pile of damp towels on the floor beside her. “Gives you an excuse to farm this out to someone else.”

“I can’t. A lot of those casualties are my staff. I owe it to their families to get their paperwork in order as soon as I can. Survivor benefits can make a huge difference in those first few months.” I dropped my butt onto the coffee table.

“I’ll grab you another laptop then, and get you connected to the network.” She hopped up without another word and disappeared momentarily, reappearing with another laptop that she opened and started fiddling with. She handed it over to me, and I moved to the table I’d been working at and logged in, bringing Kate’s file back up on the screen. I worked through it quickly, and noted her next-of-kin was a grandmother. I keyed the address into my phone, making a note in my calendar to send a card. I slogged through to the halfway point before I needed to get up and stretch. Skye had been working on something sprawled out on the couch and she popped to her feet and headed to the galley. She came back carrying sandwiches for both of us, and fresh coffee.

“Just finish it before you go back to work, okay?” She teased. I felt myself blushing and smiled despite it.

“I promise I won’t destroy any more computers.” I held up three fingers, like a Girl Guide. The sandwich was amazing. It was some sort of ham and cheese but it was incredible. I wanted to make happy eating noises, it was that good.

“How’s the sandwich?” She asked, as she started her second half. She looked up and saw mine was completely gone and started laughing. “That good?”

“I think I need a cigarette,” I groaned. “That was a damn sexy sandwich.”

“You should tell Simmons, she made them. And Fitz, actually. It’s his favourite. Let me see if I can remember. Prosciutto and Buffalo Mozza with some sort of aioli.” She closed one eye and scrunched up her face, her open eye looking up, as though she were actually trying to extract information from her brain.

“Pesto. I’m sure it’s pesto,” I offered.

“Yes!” She exclaimed, and took another bite of her sandwich. “Listen, you said that those personnel files need to be completed as soon as possible for benefits. Can I help you? I’m a pretty quick study on a computer,” she winked. I sat back and drank my coffee, a bit blindsided by the offer.

“You don’t have something better to do?” I asked.

“Not right now,” she shook her head.

“I think I would really appreciate the help, Skye. Thanks.” I finished by coffee and took my dishes back to the galley.

The afternoon sped by, as they always do when there is too much to do, and Skye wasn’t just being a smart-ass when she said she was a quick study. I expected her to be quick on the uptake with regards to the computer skills required to deactivate personnel files, but the stepping-stones through the process required a bit of a flowchart approach. She picked that up quickly as well, and was a huge help. We finished the last of the files late in the evening, opting to skip dinner to get gone.

“Thanks again, Skye.”

“I’m glad I could help, Anna.” She stepped behind me and rubbed at the knot in my neck. “This would have been brutal for you to manage on your own, while you’re grieving for team members.”

“Just one thing.” I relaxed against her hands. “I can’t let anyone know you helped. Your security clearance isn’t high enough.”

“I know.”

“So I owe you something fantastic,” I smiled.

“Just treat A.C. good, okay?” She asked. I laughed and looked at her with a smirk.

“Well, that benefits me as well, Skye. Of course,” I winked. She dropped her hands from my neck and gave me a light swat on the shoulder.

“Gross, Anna!” She protested. “That’s not what I meant!”

“Director Fury is asking to speak with you.” Ward leaned out of the command centre while I ate my very-late dinner. I brought my plate with me.

“Ellis, you did a lot of work today.” Fury’s eyebrow was quirked. I swallowed my mouthful and put my plate down on the furthest surface I could find from anything electronic.

“I’m efficient,” I offered.

“Do you honestly expect me to believe you deactivated and processed benefits and insurance for over 300 people today?” He asked.

“I finished everyone marked deceased on the casualty lists. You should have pending approval notifications for each file. I will start on the injured tomorrow,” I clarified. “And any updates to the casualty lists, of course.”

“How did you get through that many files, Ellis?” He demanded.

“Skye got me set up with a blazing fast network speed, and I spent my entire day doing it. I stopped for 45 minutes to eat lunch,” I lied. Fury blinked slowly, but said nothing. I knew he was going to continue to say nothing because it was a classic interrogation technique. Wait until the guilty party blurts out the truth. Wasn’t going to happen.

“I would like to see a complete restructure of Human Resources once we are back online, Ellis. Starting with your promotion to director of the department,” he finally spoke.

“I’ll give it some thought,” I responded.

“I know you are not an agent, Ellis, but this is an order. It’s not optional.” Fury was more tense than usual. Understandably. I nodded.

“Fine, but I want my thoughts considered on this restructuring,” I bargained.

“That’s why I want you in the position, Ellis,” he barked. “I spent the better part of today securing office space for your department. There will be significantly less space, which means a smaller department. Agent Coulson will be bringing you in day after tomorrow.”

“Yes sir.” I think every person who ever interacted with Fury knew better than to argue once a certain tone entered his voice. He’d hit that point. I turned to retrieve my dinner and leave the command centre.

“One last thing, Ellis,” Fury stopped me. “Tony Stark was asking for an update on you. I assured him you are fine, but as I am sure you are aware, Mr. Stark doesn’t always see eye to eye with me. I suspect he is probably trying to track your whereabouts.”

“Why does he care?” I asked, to no one in particular.

“Regardless, Ellis, being on that airborne mobile command is compromising Agent Coulson’s cover.”

“With all due respect, sir, it’s a fucking miracle that Stark hasn’t already hacked our computers and seen Agent Coulson’s personnel file is still active,” I retorted.

“Ward, May, can you give Agent Coulson, Ellis and I a moment?” Fury asked. The two senior agents slipped from the command centre. Coulson stepped beside me after sliding the partition shut.

“Sir?” He asked.

“I am willing to overlook whatever it is you two are up to. For now. SHIELD protocols exist for a reason. If you flaunt your relationship, or it compromises security in any way, I will separate you. Permanently,” Fury began. I looked down at the console and back up again, waiting for him to continue.

“Sir, I’ve already given up one life for SHIELD. I’m not about to be told how to live this second one.” Phil’s voice was steady, but I could see a slight tremor in his hand. He was angry.

“Then make sure you don’t need to be told,” Fury snapped. “Ellis, what the hell is the story with Stark? Why the hell was he even in the building?”

“He was in a harassment seminar during the attack. He called the suit, and flew me to safety before he went back in to see who else he could save,” I explained.

“He’ll be in your new office at 0900 on Thursday morning. Coulson, you are not to walk her to the door.” He reached forward and the picture cut out, ending the transmission. I looked at Phil and smiled.

“I had a sandwich today that may have been better than sex,” I teased. One corner of his mouth tilted up.

“It wasn’t.” There was no change to his tone, but his eyes lit up, taking on a mercenary look.

“No? It was pretty amazing. It had pesto aioli.” I held up my hands, imitating a scale. He leaned close, his lips at my ear.

“I have nothing to prove,” he whispered, enunciating each word clearly. I leaned toward his ear, sliding my hands under his lapels.

“Pesto aioli,” I whispered back. I stepped back, winked at him and slapped his ass on my way out of the command centre. I stopped part way through the door, leaned back and grabbed my dinner. I’d forgotten that the command centre was walled in with clear glass, and when I looked up, Skye was biting her knuckles to stop herself from laughing.

“What the hell did you just say?” She was staring into the command centre. I turned and saw Phil glaring at me. We’d been on the plane together for over 24 hours and had barely had a moment alone. I was pretty sure he was as frustrated as I was. I’d spent most of the afternoon avoiding him, rather than fighting my need to drag him up to his bed every time I saw him.

“He’s jealous about the sandwich.” I blew him a kiss and sat down to finish my dinner.

#avengers fanfic #avengers fanfic with OFC #Phil Coulson x OFC

21 notes · View notes

just-here-for-the-moment · 2 years

Text

File 20_Subject: Valentine's Day delivery

Declassified HR Files Series Masterlist - a collaboration between @driedgreentomatoes and @just-here-for-the-moment

Summary: Things get heated in the mailroom Warnings: It's a federal offense to open someone else's mail ---

From: [email protected] To: [email protected] Date: February 13, 2012 3:01 PM Subject: Valentine’s Day delivery

Jack,

I’m sure you noticed our counter-ops team deploying this morning (and passing right by your office on their way to the mailroom). And I’m equally certain that you noticed a large, controlled explosion around 9:00 a.m. that the counter-ops demolition team deployed in order to neutralize a suspicious package.

Now I want to ask: why the hell was your name and address written on the package sent from an “Amanda Sugar Tits”???

Oh, but that’s not the best part… the BEST part is that the vibrating package was actually addressed to Jack “Daddy” Daniels, and it included an anatomically-correct vibrator, a bottle of edible strawberry lubricant, a Polaroid camera with film, and a pair of “gently used” panties.

I’m having a conniption fit here. You know the policy about not having personal mail sent to HQ, not to mention the suspicious nature of a package that started vibrating when it hit the conveyor belt in the sorting area.

I ain’t happy, son.

//Champ -------------------- From: [email protected] To: [email protected], [email protected] Date: February 13, 2012 3:49 PM Re: Valentine’s Day delivery

Oops… sorry about that. I told her not to send that here.

I’ll, uh, punish her tonight for disobeying.

JACK -------------------- From: [email protected] To: [email protected] Date: February 13, 2012 3:52 PM Re: Valentine’s Day delivery

Stop, for God’s sake. I don’t need to know the details.

You owe me one new bomb disposal robot, and you owe the ladies in the forensic lab lunch for the disturbing task of having to put the pieces of your sex life back together for analysis.

//Champ -------------------- From: [email protected] To: [email protected], [email protected] Date: February 13, 2012 4:23 PM Re: Valentine’s Day delivery

You mean the blonde lab tech, Brenda? The one with the curvy legs? And the petite gal Amina with the cute little glasses and her tight little lab coat?

I will DEFINITELY take them both out for a meal. Maybe at the same time…

JACK -------------------- From: [email protected] To: [email protected] Date: February 13, 2012 4:29 PM Re: Valentine’s Day delivery

Not what I meant, and that’s quite enough. Focus on your work this week, or you’ll be spending Valentine’s Day sorting files in the archives with me. And I don’t kiss on the first date.

//Champ ---

<<File 19 : File 21>>

@anaaaispunk @justanotherblonde23 @gracie7209 @nicolethered @honestly-shite @driedgreentomatoes @dihra-vesa @1800-fight-me @the-queen-of-fools @juletheghoul @kesskirata @honeymandos @silverwolf319 @mourningbirds1 @greeneyedblondie44 @spacedilf @maxwell–lord @quica-quica-quica @sherala007 @writeforfandoms @libellule2001 @elegantduckturtle @halalinstreetsharaminsheets @donnaa @eri16 @idolized-sea-salt @jusanothertmblrusermate @furious-rogue-stuff

38 notes · View notes

just-here-for-the-moment · 2 years

Text

File 21_Subject: Holiday party and first mission of the new year

Declassified HR Files Series Masterlist - a collaboration between @driedgreentomatoes and @just-here-for-the-moment

Summary: Jack and Eddy save Christmas Warnings: The reward for hard work is more work ---

From: [email protected] To: [email protected], [email protected] Date: December 29, 2012 10:01 AM Subject: Holiday party and first mission of the new year

Gentlemen,

First, I wanted to offer my thanks for your quick thinking at our holiday party on Friday. That could have been much worse than it was, and I’m thankful that the both of you were able to spring into action to administer the antidote. Jack, make sure that mission report is on my desk before the new year.

Second, I have some exciting news for the both of you. Our President-elect has requested y’all by name to provide some extra security for his family on Inauguration Day. We briefed his security team yesterday and based on your recent mission reports (especially Monaco), he feels you have what it takes to be an extra set of eyes and ears so that he can concentrate on taking office.

I’ve cleared both of your schedules for January so that you can train for this mission. I hope you both know what an honor it is to be chosen, and I expect y’all to be on your best behavior.

//Champ -------------------- From: [email protected] To: [email protected], [email protected] Date: December 29, 2012 10:39 AM Re: Holiday party and first mission of the new year

Will do, Champ! Eddy and I will be sure to make you proud.

JACK -------------------- From: [email protected] To: [email protected], [email protected] Date: December 29, 2012 10:41 AM Re: Holiday party and first mission of the new year

Champ, thank you so much. I feel like I’ve come a long way since I got here. Can’t thank you and Jack enough for all that you’ve done for me. I’ll make you proud, sir! –Vodka -------------------- From: [email protected] To: [email protected], [email protected] Date: December 29, 2012 10:57 AM Re: Holiday party and first mission of the new year

Glad to hear it. I will be putting a copy of the letter below in both of your files. If you gents can pull off this inauguration gig without a hitch, then the sky’s the limit for you!

//Champ -------------------- Dear Statesman,

It is with great pleasure that I close out 2012 with my thanks and gratitude to all of you. This year has seen Statesman grow and change, and although we have weathered a few challenges, I want to thank y’all for stepping up and making me proud.

First of all, I’d like to acknowledge that all of you are instrumental in Statesman’s successes, large and small, and that we wouldn’t be where we are today without you. I wanted to wish you all a happy holiday season and a great start to the new year.

A special acknowledgement goes to Agent Whiskey and Agent Vodka, for their actions in stopping a dangerous rogue agent. We recently tested an injectable painkiller in our labs, and rejected it for its serious side effects. A rogue agent stole several doses and attempted to incapacitate us by adding it to the liquor supply for the Statesman holiday party. Agents Whiskey and Vodka displayed quick thinking and were able to formulate the antidote and distribute it in time to prevent serious injuries or death.

While this was not exactly the kind of excitement I had in mind for a holiday celebration, I’m sure glad that we all came out the other side in one piece. I wish you all a Happy New Year and a peaceful start to 2013.

Best,

Champ —

<<File 20 : File 22>>

20 notes · View notes

just-here-for-the-moment · 3 years

Text

Declassified: HR File_Daniels, J. (Whiskey)

(This series is on hiatus for the moment, but please enjoy the chapters below!) Whiskey is such a charming yee-haw bastard that @driedgreentomatoes and @just-here-for-the-moment were just dying to see what was in his HR files, so we got the okay from Champ to declassify some of it for y'all. Just as we suspected, the last decade of Whiskey's work with Statesman has been a real bumpy ride...

File 01_Subject: Accounting Clerk File 02_Subject: Agent Whiskey’s expense report, behavior File 03_Subject: Agent Whiskey - report of inappropriate language File 04_Subject: Accounting clerk Georgia S. resigned this morning File 05_Subject: Kudos from Senator Tan File 06_Subject: New Agent Vodka coming Monday to Kentucky HQ File 07_Subject: Polaroids in the Ladies room File 08: Subject_Distracting Vodka and inappropriate nicknames in the office File 09_Subject: Minor issue on mission report, good job this Fall File 10_Subject: Out sick Tues Dec 21 File 11_Subject: Statesman HQ 2010 Holiday Party File 12_Subject: Wardrobe Department incident File 13_Subject: Agent Whiskey's behavior at the gun range File 14_Subject: Venice mission this weekend File 15_Subject: Monaco this week File 16_Subject: Conference call incident File 17_Subject: Alaska trip this week File 18_Subject: Trainee 14 File 19_Subject: Vodka's mission File 20_Subject: Valentine's Day delivery File 21_Subject: Holiday party and first mission of the new year File 22_Subject: My Condolences

--- Rumors & Innuendo: Series Teaser Post - I like making memes, and what better way to drop the news of our new humor series? The Origin Story - this thing wouldn't even exist without @driedgreentomatoes big juicy brain! Just 24 hours until we can declassify some of these files! A salacious rumor about Jack? Say it ain't so! Another rumor? This time at the gun range... Rumors of Jack saving a life - we're looking into it!

--- Thank you for putting your eyeballs on our funny little humor series! @driedgreentomatoes and I have had a BLAST working on this, and we plan to release installments at least weekly. --- Series tag list: Please use this Google Form signup if you want to be added to our tag list for this series only!

@anaaaispunk @justanotherblonde23 @gracie7209 @nicolethered @honestly-shite @driedgreentomatoes @dihra-vesa @1800-fight-me @the-queen-of-fools @juletheghoul @kesskirata @honeymandos @silverwolf319 @mourningbirds1 @greeneyedblondie44 @spacedilf @maxwell–lord @anxiousandboujee @cevvie @quica-quica-quica @sherala007 @writeforfandoms @libellule2001 @elegantduckturtle @lagoona89 @halalinstreetsharaminsheets @donnaa @eri16 @idolized-sea-salt

#pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal characters #kingsman fanfiction #agent whiskey x you #agent whiskey x reader #agent jack whiskey daniels #HR files Agent Whiskey #HR file Agent Whiskey #Agent Whiskey fic #Agent whiskey fanfic #agent whiskey fanfiction #agent jack whiskey daniels x you #agent jack whiskey daniels x reader #pedrostories #pedro pascal fanfic

115 notes · View notes

just-here-for-the-moment · 3 years

Text

File 17_Subject: Alaska trip this week

Declassified HR Files Series Masterlist - a collaboration between @driedgreentomatoes and @just-here-for-the-moment

@jusanothertmblrusermate Thank you for your heads-up about this important incident! We never would have known to look for it without your hot tip!!

Summary: Jack meets his match Warnings: No good deed goes unpunished -------------------- From: [email protected] To: [email protected] Date: July 14, 2011 9:12 AM Subject: Alaska trip this week

Champ,

Just wanted to give you a heads-up in case the news crosses your path. On the flight up to Anchorage yesterday, there was a medical emergency and I stepped in to provide CPR to Suzanne Pierce-King (yes, THAT Suzanne Pierce-King). I was able to resuscitate her and keep her stable until the plane landed and she could be transported to the hospital.

Well, this morning she asked me to come see her, and you know I’m not turning down a direct invitation from the star of my favorite boyhood TV show. By the way, she’s just as gorgeous as she was 22 years ago… if you’d gone back to tell 15 year old Jack that he’d be talking to Suzanne Pierce-King he would have burst with happiness.

She’s here to film a movie for the next 8 weeks, and she asked if she could hire me to be her bodyguard while she’s here. She said she’s had some odd threats and a persistent stalker the past few months. If you would allow me some additional time off to freelance after I finish up this quick mission this weekend, I’d kill for the chance to spend more time with her.

JACK -------------------- From: [email protected] To: [email protected] Date: July 14, 2011 9:26 AM Re: Alaska trip this week

Jack,

Well I’ll be damned, I haven’t seen Suzanne in years. Tell her I said hi, and I hope her momma’s doing well.

If you can get your mission wrapped up in time, go right ahead and have a grand old time up in Anchorage. Don’t let Suzy talk you into anything dangerous. That girl had a hell of a wild streak back in the day.

//Champ -------------------- From: [email protected] To: [email protected] Date: July 14, 2011 12:15 PM Re: Alaska trip this week

Champ,

Wait a minute, you know her? And you never introduced me?

JACK -------------------- From: [email protected] To: [email protected] Date: July 14, 2011 12:29 PM Re: Alaska trip this week

I know a lot of people, son.

//Champ -------------------- From: [email protected] To: [email protected] Date: August 27, 2011 4:02 PM Re: Alaska trip this week

Champ,

You weren’t kidding. Suzy is a wild one. I haven’t slept a wink in 6 weeks and it’s not because of the Arctic midnight sun. Not sure I’m going to last the final two weeks of this film shoot.

JACK -------------------- From: [email protected] To: [email protected] Date: August 27, 2011 4:24 PM Re: Alaska trip this week

Any trouble on set, or any sign of her stalker?

//Champ -------------------- From: [email protected] To: [email protected] Date: August 27, 2011 5:08 PM Re: Alaska trip this week

I’m starting to wonder if she made that up. She doesn’t seem to be very worried. She’s been more concerned about what I’m wearing in the hot tub.

JACK -------------------- From: [email protected] To: [email protected] Date: August 27, 2011 5:19 PM Re: Alaska trip this week

Well, Suzy has been known to play the “damsel in distress” to snare a man before. Guess you’re the lucky catch of the week, son.

//Champ -------------------- From: [email protected] To: [email protected] Date: August 27, 2011 5:31 PM Re: Alaska trip this week

I really wish you had warned me.

JACK -------------------- From: [email protected] To: [email protected] Date: August 27, 2011 5:56 PM Re: Alaska trip this week

I did!

//Champ -------------------- From: [email protected] To: [email protected] Date: September 8, 2011 9:41 AM Re: Alaska trip this week

Happy to report that filming will wrap on Suzy’s project tomorrow, and I’ll be flying out on Saturday. I don’t know how to put this delicately, but I’ll need about a week off to recuperate from this freelance gig.

JACK -------------------- From: [email protected] To: [email protected] Date: September 8, 2011 9:55 AM Re: Alaska trip this week

Son, I expect you to be back at HQ on Monday bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. I already gave you 8 weeks to pal around with Suzanne.

We have work to do. Saddle up!

//Champ -------------------- -------------------- From: [email protected] To: [email protected] Date: September 13, 2011 11:02 AM Subject: Comments to Records staff?

Jack,

Once again, I find myself having to warn you about flirting with the office staff. I heard that you made a comment yesterday to Brittany in the Records Department that could be construed as “bedroom talk” and I ain’t real happy, son.

Just what the heck were you thinking?

//Champ -------------------- From: [email protected] To: [email protected] Date: September 13, 2011 12:38 PM Re: Comments to Records staff?

Champ,

I apologize, I was just surprised that Brittany was so young and out of touch. If I’d known she didn’t know who Suzanne is I wouldn’t have brought it up.

I was just telling Brittany about my chance to meet Suzanne and when she said “Who?” I was so shocked I blurted out a description of Suzanne’s “attributes”.

JACK -------------------- From: [email protected] To: [email protected] Date: September 13, 2011 12:59 PM Re: Comments to Records staff?

Jack,

You can’t expect these Millennials to know all about TV stars from before they were born. Brittany’s 20, and I don’t think her parents had even gotten together yet when Suzanne landed her TV show.

Brittany is also the daughter of a good friend of mine, so don’t go sniffing around her again, you hear me?

//Champ -------------------- From: [email protected] To: [email protected] Date: September 13, 2011 1:22 PM Re: Comments to Records staff?

Loud and clear.

You sure I can’t have that week off? Might prevent any more “incidents” like this.

JACK -------------------- From: [email protected] To: [email protected] Date: September 13, 2011 1:24 PM Re: Comments to Records staff?

Absolutely not.

//Champ --------------------

<<File 16 : File 18>>

@anaaaispunk @justanotherblonde23 @gracie7209 @nicolethered @honestly-shite @driedgreentomatoes @dihra-vesa @1800-fight-me @the-queen-of-fools @juletheghoul @kesskirata @honeymandos @silverwolf319 @mourningbirds1 @greeneyedblondie44 @spacedilf @maxwell--lord @quica-quica-quica @sherala007 @writeforfandoms @libellule2001 @elegantduckturtle @halalinstreetsharaminsheets @donnaa @eri16 @idolized-sea-salt @jusanothertmblrusermate @furious-rogue-stuff

38 notes · View notes

just-here-for-the-moment · 3 years

Text

File 16_Subject: Conference call incident

Declassified HR Files Series Masterlist - a collaboration between @driedgreentomatoes and @just-here-for-the-moment

Summary: Even on bed rest, Jack causes chaos Warnings: Don't dip your pen in the company ink -------------------- From: [email protected] To: [email protected] Date: May 25, 2011 11:04 AM Subject: Conference call incident

Jack,

I hate to do this, but I have to caution you once again about using professional language when you are speaking with any of the Statesman staff. We had the entire senior staff here in the conference room on speakerphone to call you at home and congratulate you on last week’s very successful mission.

When Ashley connected the call and said, “Hello, Agent Whiskey. It’s Ashley calling from HQ,” the absolute LAST thing I expected you to say was, “I thought we agreed that you would call me ‘Daddy,’ sugar.”

Now, everyone here at Statesman already knows that you’re an unrepentant ladies man, but I am MORTIFIED that the goddamn Prince of Monaco was also on the call long-distance and heard you acting up.

I’m going to chalk today’s incident up to the painkillers you were prescribed for your groin pull, and in fact that’s what I told the royal family.

I expect to see you back here in three weeks in tip-top shape and ready to work. And in the meantime, I will NOT be sending Ashley to courier you any documents at home for your signature, so I hope you’re ready to see my ugly mug instead.

//Champ -------------------- From: [email protected] To: [email protected] Date: May 25, 2011 12:22 PM Re: Conference call incident

Champ,

In my defense, I thought she was phoning me privately. Thank you, and please apologize to everyone on my behalf. The doc did warn me about mixing painkillers and whiskey.

Next time Ashley calls, I will make sure we’re not on a conference call.

JACK -------------------- From: [email protected] To: [email protected] Date: May 25, 2011 12:26 PM Re: Conference call incident

No. Don’t talk to anyone at Statesman like that, whether you’re on a private call or not. This is what I’ve been trying to tell you for ages, son.

Rest up. I’ll call you if we need anything. And it would be nice if you could apologize to your assistant for embarrassing her like that.

//Champ -------------------- From: [email protected] To: [email protected] Cc: [email protected] Date: May 25, 2011 12:35 PM Fw: Conference call incident

Hey Ashley,

I’m sorry if I embarrassed you on the conference call. I thought you were calling me privately. Won’t happen again.

JACK -------------------- From: [email protected] To: [email protected] Cc: [email protected] Date: May 25, 2011 12:39 PM Re Fw: Conference call incident

Hi Daddy,

Oh it’s no trouble. I thought Champ was going to burst a blood vessel, but I’m fine. You want me to come over this evening and we can pick up where we left off last night?

<3-Baby -------------------- From: [email protected] To: [email protected] Cc: [email protected] Date: May 25, 2011 12:40 PM Re Fw: Conference call incident

Can’t wait, sweet thing. Bring that pretty little kitty of yours, and wear that lacy thing I like.

Big Daddy Jack -------------------- From: [email protected] To: [email protected] Cc: [email protected] Date: May 25, 2011 12:41 PM Re Fw: Conference call incident

This is unacceptable. Ashely, please pay attention to who is copied on emails before you hit “reply all” to fire off a response.

And Jack, we JUST had this conversation.

//Champ ---

<<File 15 : File 17>>

@anaaaispunk @justanotherblonde23 @gracie7209 @nicolethered @honestly-shite @driedgreentomatoes @dihra-vesa @1800-fight-me @the-queen-of-fools @juletheghoul @kesskirata @honeymandos @silverwolf319 @mourningbirds1 @greeneyedblondie44 @spacedilf @maxwell–lord @anxiousandboujee @cevvie @quica-quica-quica @sherala007 @writeforfandoms @libellule2001 @elegantduckturtle @lagoona89 @halalinstreetsharaminsheets @donnaa @eri16 @idolized-sea-salt @jusanothertmblrusermate @furious-rogue-stuff

46 notes · View notes