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thegalleonsnest · 8 months ago

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OK since I haven't seen too many people talk about this since twitter news usually strikes pretty fast over here whenever e'usk does anything ever, let me give ya'll the run down on two things that will go live on NOVEMBER 15TH and why people are mass migrating to Blue Sky once more; and provide resources to help protect your art and make the transition to Blue Sky easier if you so choose:

The Block function no longer blocks people as intended. It now basically acts as a glorified Mute button. Even when you block someone, they can still see your posts, but they can't engage in them. If your account is a Public one and not a Private one, people you blocked will see your posts.

They say because people can easily "share and hide harmful or private information about those they've blocked," they changed it this way for "greater transparency." When in reality, this is an extremely dangerous change, as the whole point of blocking is to cease interaction with people entirely for a plethora of reasons, i.e. stalking, harassment, spam, endangerment, or just plainly annoying and not wanting to see said tweets/accounts. or you know, for 18+ accounts who do not want minors interacting with them or their material at all (There is speculation saying these changes are specifically for Elon himself so he can do his own kind of stalking, and honestly, with the private likes change, it lowkey checks out in my opinion)

Also, this straight up goes against and may violate Apple and Google's app store policies and also is straight up illegal in Canada and probably other countries as well.

If this ACTUALLY goes through, twitter will only be available in select countries, probably exclusively in the US, which would collapse the site with the lost of users and stock, and probably be the last push it needs to kill the site. And if not, will be a very sad and exclusive platform made for specific kinds of people who line up with musk's line of thinking.

2. New policies regarding Grok AI and basically removing the option to opt out of Grok's information gathering to improve their software.

And anything you upload/post on the site is considered "fair game" with "royalty-free licenses" and they can do whatever they please with it. Primarily using any and all posts on twitter to train their Grok AI. A few months ago, there was a setting you can opt out of so they couldn't take anything you post to "improve" Grok, but I guess because so many people were opting out, they decided to make it mandatory as part of the policy change (This is mainly speculation from what I hear).

So this is considered the final straw for a LOT of people, especially artists who have been gripping on to twitter for as long as they can, but the AI nonsense is too much for people now, including myself. Lot's of people are moving to Blue Sky for good reason, and from personal experience, it is literally 10x better than twitter ever was, even before elon took over. There is no algorithm on there, and you can save "feeds" to your timeline to have a catered timelines to hop between if your looking for something specific like furry art or game dev stuff. It's taken them a bit to get off the ground and add much needed features, but it's genuinely so much better now

RESOURCES

Project Glaze & Cara

If you're an artist who's still on twitter or trying to ride it out for as long as you can for whatever reason you have, do yourself a favor and Glaze and/or Nightshade your work. Project Glaze is a free program designed to protect your art work from getting scrapped by AI machines. Glazing basically makes it harder to adapt and copy artwork that AI programs try to scan, while Nightshade basically "poisons" works to make AI libraries much more unstable and generate images completely off the mark. (These are layman's terms I'm using here, but follow the link to get more information)

The only problem with these programs is that they can be resource intensive for computers, and not every pc can run glaze. It's basically like rendering a frame/animation, you gotta let your pc sit there to get it glazed/nightshade, and depending on the intensity and power of your pc, this may take minutes to hours depending on how much you wanna protect your work.

HOWEVER, there are two alternatives, WebGlaze and Cara

WebGlaze is an in browser version of the program, so your pc doesn't have to do the heavy lifting. You do need to have an account with Glaze and be invited to use the program (I have not done so personally so I don't know much about the process.)

Cara is an artist focused site that doubles as both a portfolio site and a general social media platform. They've partnered with Glaze and have their own browser glazing called "Cara Glaze," and highly encourage users to post their work Glazed and are extremely anti-ai. You do get limited uses per day to glaze your work, so if you plan on doing a huge backlog uploading of your art, it may take awhile if your using just Cara Glaze.

Some twitter users have suggested glazing your art, cropping it, and overlaying it with a frame telling people to follow them elsewhere like on Bluesky. Here's a template someone provided if you wanna use this one or make your own.

Blue Sky Resources and Tips

So if your a twitter user and your about to realize the hellish task of refollowing a massive chunk of people you follow, have no fear, there's an extension called Sky Follower Bridge (Firefox & Chrome links). This is a very basic extension that makes it really easy to find people on Bluesky

It sorts them out by trying to find matching usernames, usernames in descriptions, or by screen name. It's not 100% perfect, there's a couple people I already follow on Blue Sky but the extension could not find them on twitter correctly, but I still found a huge chunk of people. Also if your worried that this extension is "iffy," they do have a github open with the source publicly available and the Blue Sky Team themselves have promoted the extension in their recent posts while welcoming new users to the platform.

FEEDS and LABELS

OK SO THE COOLEST PART ABOUT BLUESKY IS THE FEEDS SYSTEM. Basically if you've made a twitter list before, it's like that, but way more customizable and caters to specific types of posts/topics. Consolidating them into a timeline/feed that exclusively filled about those particular topics, or just people in general. There's thousands to pick and choose from!

Here's a couple of mine that I have saved and ready (down below). Some feeds I have saved so I can jump to seeing what my friends and mutuals are up to, and see their posts specifically so it doesn't get lost in reposts or other accounts, and also specialized feeds for browsing artists within the furry community.

The Furry Community feeds I have here were created by people who've built an algorithm to place any #furry or #furryart or other special tags like #Furrystreamer or #furrydev. They even have one for commissions, and yes you can say commissions on a post and not have it destroyed or shadow banned. You are safe.

If you want, and I highly recommend it to get visibility and check out a neat community, follow furryli.st to get added to their list and feeds. Once your on the list, even without a hashtag, you'll still pop up in their specialized feeds as just a member of the community there. There are plenty of other feeds out there besides this one, but I feel like a lot of people could use one like this. They even got ones for OC specific too I remember seeing somewhere.

And in terms of labels, they can be either ways to help label yourself with specific things or have user created accessibility settings to help better control your experience on Blue Sky.

And my personal favorite: Ai Imagery Labeler. Removes any AI stuff or hides it to the best of it's abilities, and it does a pretty good job, I have not seen anything AI related since subscribing to it.

Finally, HASHTAGS WORK & No need to censor yourself!

This is NOT like twitter or any other big named social media site AT ALL, so you don't have to work around words to get your stuff out there and be seen. There are literally feeds built around having commissions getting and art seen! Some people worry about bots and that has been a recent issue since a lot of people are migrating to Blue Sky, but it comes with any social media territory.

ALSO COOL PART,

you can search a hashtag on someone's profile and search exclusively on that profile as well! You can even put the hashtag in bio for easy access if you have a specialize tag like here on tumblr. OR EVEN BUILD YOUR OWN ART FEED FOR YOUR STUFF SPECIFICALLY!

So yeah, there's your quick run down about twitter's current burning building, how to protect your art, and what to do when you move to Blue Sky! Have fun!

#Twitter #Blue Sky #BlueSky #Cara #Project Glaze #Glazed Art #NightShade #Twitter Update #cara artists #art resource #resource #Online resource

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balrogballs · 4 months ago

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who from lotr most needs therapy and who would actually go to therapy 😇

LOTR Therapy Reactions:

Frodo: is a little bit reluctant at first and feels like he’s “taking away resources from people who need them more” a bit, but learns that he needs them just as much, not to compare himself to others, and settles down well.

Elrond: motherfucker tries to mansplain therapy techniques to the therapist in the first session, spends the entirety of the second session crying hysterically, and from that moment on is a total therapy nerd. he literally decorates his CBT notebooks. asks if he can get extra points for turning his worksheets early. literally treats his final session like he’s fucking graduating college and makes everyone attend in formalwear.

Pippin: argues with the therapist, who quickly wises up to his bantering ways and essentially starts doing talk-therapy masqueraded as an improv-comedy session. weirdly enough, it works, and he reports feeling much better.

Thranduil: books 10 sessions, doesn’t even go to the first one, and instead of asking for a refund, just straight up files a chargeback on his AMEX

Maedhros: sends Google hate mail every time it dares to show him an advert to a therapy service, which is a vicious cycle because he keeps Googling “how to prove therapy is a capitalist scam” and “cure panic attack reddit” and “cancel nightmare subscription”

Legolas and Gimli: wandered in by accident thinking it was a Starbucks, has no clue what therapy is, and genuinely just assume they’re gossiping with a strangely professional barista. they have been attending for the last 20 years and as a result have outstanding mental health

Fëanor: someone suggests a therapist to him after the third time he set his microwave on fire after it melted his cheese too much. he looks up said therapist, reports them to the registered psychologist regulatory body for no reason, and pulls political strings to ensure they lose their practice license. he has never met this person.

Bilbo Baggins: therapist drops him in 3 weeks with “yeah you’re fine move on” because he makes her cry every session. not because his mental health mind you but because he keeps being subtly mean about her fashion choices and room decorations.

Celegorm: banned from therapy centre before his first session for barking like a dog when the receptionist asked for his health insurance number.

#lotr crack #ask balls #tolkien #lord of the rings #balrogballs writes #the silmarillion #maedhros #elrond peredhel #bilbo baggins #maglor #fëanor #pippin took #lotr #frodo baggins #thranduil

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ms-demeanor · 5 months ago

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A testimonial - I started using Bitwarden after you recommended it and oh my godddddd my life is so much easier. Forgot password? No I didn't. Keyboard set to a different alphabet and I didn't notice? Don't care, Bitwarden doesn't use the keyboard. Signing up for a new tedious account for something? Bitwarden pops up and goes 'would you like me to make a new password for this?'

And I can keep stuff like my passport number and credit card and driver license number and library card number as notes so I haven't had to look at the actual physical documents in months.

I really think that most people who don't use password managers are underestimating the amount of mental real estate they free up. They make so many thing so much easier, it's like if there were a bunch of people trying to walk a thousand miles and you're like "hey if you learn to ride a bike this would be easier" and they go "but it's hard to learn to ride a bike" or "but if I fall down on a bike it will hurt worse than if I fall while walking" or "but what if the wheels fall off while I'm next to a cliff and I tumble down the cliff and die" but then some people go "okay, yeah, i've been meaning to get to that - holy shit, oh holy shit this is so much better than walking."

It's always SUUUUUUUUPER gratifying to find that someone's experience improved because of something I wrote. I'm glad to hear it's working out for you. I cannot even begin to express how much easier my online life is since I started using a password manager.

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doumadono · 1 year ago

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MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST PRO HERO DABI & INTERN!BAKUGO A warm welcome - pro hero!Dabi - headcanons NSFW Sidekick!Reader - pro hero Dabi headcanons (NSFW)

Touya Todoroki's hero name is Dabi, no question.

As a pro hero, he takes being a total shithead to a whole new level, being a jerk with a hero license and flashy gear that screams "I'm better than you."

He's the biggest fuckboy on the planet, and as a pro hero, he takes it to a whole new level. He's bedded countless models, actresses, and even fellow pro heroes, and he's far from finished.

He has a custom-painted motorcycle with blue flames, because anything less wouldn't be cool enough for him.

Piercings and tattoos everywhere; he has his ears, nose, tongue, nipples and dick pierced, and his sleeves are adorned with huge tattoos, so are his back and neck.

He's the ultimate PR nightmare, and his publicists practically live in their offices, working overtime to clean up after his never-ending chaos. Sure, he fights villains and saves lives, but his brand thrives on scandals, keeping his publicists working overtime to handle the fallout.

Despite his scandalous reputation, he's a smooth talker when it comes to the media and public, effortlessly playing the role of the good guy when it suits him.

A certified narcissist, he loves to pull the "do you know who I am?" and "my father will sue you" cards.

When it comes to drinking, he's in a league of his own. This man can and will outdrink anyone, even Endeavor, leaving no doubt about his legendary tolerance.

Dabi's strategic mind and tactical prowess make him a formidable force on the battlefield, earning him the respect of both allies and adversaries.

Pro Hero Dabi is known for his unconventional methods, often bending or breaking the rules to achieve his goals. His willingness to operate in morally gray areas sets him apart from traditional heroes.

Despite his cocky and rebellious attitude, Dabi possesses a keen intellect and a deep understanding of human nature, allowing him to manipulate situations to his advantage.

Despite his outward bravado, Dabi is fiercely loyal to those he considers allies, willing to go to great lengths to protect and support them, even if it means defying conventional hero ethics.

Dabi holds an unbreakable bond with his younger brother, Natsuo, whom he regards as his closest and most trusted friend.

After meeting you, his current girlfriend, Pro Hero Dabi has undergone a significant personal transformation. Your presence in his life has prompted him to adopt a more mature and responsible demeanor. His commitment to you has motivated him to address his tendencies towards excessive drinking and flirting with others, as he strives to be the best partner he can be for you.

Those close to Dabi have noticed a significant change in his behavior, witnessing his earnest efforts to improve himself for the sake of your relationship. His commitment to personal growth and positive change reflects his deep investment in you and your future together.

In his free time, Dabi enjoys playing the electric guitar, and he takes particular delight in performing on his customized Fender Stratocaster.

#dabi #dabi headcanons #touya todoroki headcanons #dabi my hero academia #touya todoroki #dabi x reader #dabi x you #my hero academia #bnha dabi #toya todoroki #touya todoroki x reader #touya todoroki x you #pro hero dabi #mha headcanons #bnha headcannons #dabi is touya

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sizzleissues · 1 year ago

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Its May.

Okay so this is in the same AU I had last year its just changed and evolved while also being the exact same. Except now I have 15,000 words of it written, like 7,000 words of planning and lore and hours upon hours of research that I will be pointedly ignoring. Will be posting more stuff this month about the AU and my hopes and dreams for it

Also slight art improvement check? I’ll put their original mermaid designs below the cut.

It’s Marinette as a mermaid and … its not Adrien or Chat Noir but a third worse thing (Catwalker but in the purest manifestation of it being a curse and not who he wants to be) I will be making designs for mer!Ladybug, and mer!Adrien as its own thing later on.

Okay if you want to indulge me look below the cut

Old mermaid designs first. I am going to be talking about my design thoughts, thoughts and ramblings about this AU and what I’ve been up to. You have been warned

As you can see, some things have changed but neither design I hated, I just wanted to go further with it.

My brain is quite specific about mermaids and how I want them to generally look. I wanted to distinguish biological merfolk from transformed humans by having them being anatomically different. So Adrien has a vertical tail instead which is also way faster underwater. His transformation is quite distressing for him and very chaotic. Of course when he accepts it he’s not so raggedy.

Marinette similarly avoids her life as a mermaid by becoming human and I wanted her mermaid design to hint toward her fascination with humans. She wears a top she fashioned from human fabric she found in a sunken merchant vessel. In general all other merfolk either forgo clothes or wear things fashioned from materials available to them. There’s deep fear of humans and human things so even though human clothes are available to them (off dead bodies but…. Whatever) they choose to difference themselves as much as possible. The same taboos don’t exist for them and their bodies are already adapted from the temperature of their environment. Adrien has stray bits of netting and seaweed on him because he’s not exactly the best at controlling his speed and often crash’s through fishing nets and patches of seaweed resulting in stuff being caught on him.

A lot of their designs are still being worked but I’ve definitely pushed them the right direction!

On to the AU. You might have seem me cryptically talk about something I’m writing the past few weeks. This is because it’s been in my brain since last May and been on and off writing it since then. I decided I’d talk about it once May came back around but and then when I finished writing it, start posting sneak peaks and more spoilery art until it was fully edited and I felt confident in it to post with an aim for it to finish posting once May rolled around again. Oh god.

It’s set in the late 1700s in a fictional version of France that’s actually fragmented over a bunch of islands. I have done more fashion research than I ever thought I’d do and in the end we will still be taking creative license but know I do know what they actually wore! I ALSO did a butt tonne of research about sailing ships and turns out they are super complicated and now I know too much and yet too little still about them. It should be super fun and action packed if I can manage. Have some really good scenes already in my head I know you’ll love. We’re already three ships battle deep and I’ve only written four chapters. (It chills out for a bit after that)

This is entirely self-indulgent by the way. I’m writing this for me, you guys are just a bonus. I literally don’t care as long as it satiates my rabid need for the fic that only lives in my brain at the moment. Saying that, I do want to put my best foot forward.

The next thing I will be posting for this is their human forms and more blabblerings about that. For I am insane and all.

#miraculous ladybug #sizzle sketches #miraculous #miraculous fanart #ml fanart #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #mermay #mermaid au #Ml art

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the-world-annealing · 1 month ago

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The rise of AI has caused incredible damage to art, or: what ate up their brains and imagination?

(Surface Level, by me just now)

This used to be even longer, believe it or not. A bit more personal than I thought it was going to be and there's a few sections where I mostly talk about myself - the bored reader is invited to simply skip those.

I enjoy worldbuilding. I've written probably a small novel's worth of worldbuilding Tumblr posts by now (especially if we're including Dawn of Worlds, a collaborative worldbuilding RPG that I played in 2023 and 2024). Other creative hobbies of mine include writing one-page TTRPGs, or designing custom Magic: the Gathering cards, or designing fakemons, or fangames, or whatnot. None of this is good enough to sell, nor do I need it to be. I simply enjoy working on it.

As I understand it, 'art' is increasingly synonymous with 'creative expression', so I suppose I might be a capital-A Artist, but I don't really use that term for myself. 'Creative' feels more neutral, and more honest. 'Tinkerer' captures how it feels to me, having all these pieces and trying to crystallize them into an arrangement that makes sense. That's what I named myself after - the world annealing, see?

Back on topic: I might not call myself an artist (for visual arts specifically, the picture above is as good as it gets) but I think I share a lot of the key motivators. I enjoy creating. I enjoy displays of skill. I like making something that others can use and giving it to them for free. I want to make good, useful, or interesting things, and I want them to look nice. Most of all, I want to add my own ideas to the endless conversation that humans have been having since the dawn of time.

One of my favorite authors is Alexander Wales (whose tumblr you can find here), best known for giant-sized webnovels like the 1.6 million words Worth the Candle. In a post fittingly titled The AI Art Apocalypse, he writes:

["Art is a communicative act. It’s a conversation. You see a picture and it makes you feel a certain way, and yes, sometimes you silently process that art, but most of my favorite aspects of art as discussing it with other people, wrestling with the art in public, teasing out what it’s trying to do, or what it’s doing without trying. I generally think that this is one of the best parts of being an author or an artist, this very public back and forth."]

I agree with this completely.

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That was as good a bridge as any, let's talk about AI now.

A lot of the points leveraged against AI art are kind of bad. Gaming for an hour on a decent consumer PC consumes about 0.5 kWh - generating a hundred images with stable diffusion takes 0.005 kWh (other models are less transparent due to their proprietary nature, but given that it's ultimately corporations paying the power bill I don't see why electricity costs would be needlessly higher). Arguments that focus on the training data being used without permission need to contend with the fact that fully licensed generators are a reality now.

But those arguments are also not why people are against AI art in the first place. That goes back to all the subjective, intangible values I brought up in my introduction - the desire to create something personal, or interesting, or new, or inspiring, or useful. The desire to have an audience, however small. The desire for individual expression, for something other than Extruded Corporate Media Product, forever. For art that speaks and invites response - for conversation.

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Creation is compromise. As I said, my real interests lie in the directions of prose writing and game design. If I was also a skilled visual artist, I could create illustrations to accompany my stories and games and 180-card custom MtG sets, and this would almost certainly improve them.

But I'm not a skilled visual artist, and I don't have infinite free time, and even if I could draw real well I think I would prefer ten hours of writing over four hours of writing and six hours of illustrating it. Nor do I have the money that would make it realistic for me to commission a hundred and eighty digital paintings. So it goes.

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In Dawn of Worlds, each player takes the role of a god and helps shape the development of a world. My character was Haebarik, god of travel, a lanky red-haired giant with skin the color of slate, born from a tree on the world's first island. Distraught at the emptiness of the early world, he tore off his right arm, and cast it over the horizon, and where it landed it became the first continent. I liked this beat - it felt very mythic, not like a sanded-off modern fantasy narrative.

This was my own creation, and I am proud of it, even though it's irrevocably tainted.

See. when the game started I decided that I was going to need some kind of visual reference of my character, for the benefit of the other players if not myself. I spent some time prompting and tweaking the then-new stable diffusion, and eventually got an image I found acceptable - except that, in the wonkiness typical of such models, it'd only drawn a single arm. But seeing it, I was struck by inspiration, and in the end it made my work better.

(and to reflect the myth, the continent I drew on the map was shaped like an arm, and that shape inevitably influenced the other player's actions, and after a while I created a species that like their god only had one arm, and all of this enriched the conversation we were having and the art we were creating - or did AI poison it all?)

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As I mentioned, I'm in a lot of creative spaces that aren't for visual art per se but that are often adjacent to visual art. There's a lot of people there who've clearly put a lot of effort in their craft, whose work has genuine passion and genuine personality. And sometimes I see those people reach for AI art because they've decided that illustrations would improve their work, and then they get brigaded for it.

What are we even defending here? Not beauty (it doesn't have to look good, just don't use AI), not authenticity (it doesn't have to be yours, just don't use AI), not even individual vision (it doesn't have to look like you want to, just don't use AI). It's so depressingly negative - art not defined by the presence of a human, but the absence of a machine.

More charitably, I suppose these people are asking for 'effort' or 'personality', but by what standard does a 1-minute MS paint doodle count as effortful and personal, but not The Secret Origin of Wally ManMoth? Are we guarding individual expression, or forcing it into a straitjacket?

(TSOoWM of course also doubles of a beautiful example of how DALL-E's 'overcooked plastic' look is not inherent to AI - and how someone skilled at 90% of a creative process can use it to fill in the gaps)

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I'm not afraid that AI will kill art - it can't do that; nothing can. But this post's title wasn't a lie: I really do think that something awful has happened. There's an ever-sharpening divide between the communities willing to experiment with this new tool and those vehemently against it, a divide that might actually be sustainable in this age of algorithmic feeds and walled gardens.

Art is a communicative act. We are seeing the emergence of a side that would not merely cut off communication with the other, but deny they are worth listening to - deny they could speak, definitionally. If people actually started to believe that, it would betray a greater failure of imagination than any glassy-eyed slop ever could.

#anti ai #ai art debate #ai art

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electric-guillotines · 8 days ago

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In The Wake of Fire - Pt.3

"The Woman in White"

WandaNat x F!OC Summary: Natasha and Steve talk to Fury about their walking lightning rod, and an FBI Agent comes forward with information that will shed light on the Boston event, revealing the existence of a secret society and it's mysterious leader...

Content: Hospital setting but nothing in detail Words: 5 ,994

Can also be read over on [Ao3]

Taglist: @bishovapls @queen-of-chaotic-surprises @natashasmuse

<<Start | <Back || Index || Forward> | End>>

Boston, MA 11:40 pm Massachusetts General Hospital

While most of the seriously wounded were sent south many still ended up at Mass General and space was a premium, but by some miracle, the hospital was able to find a secluded room for MacGrath, keeping her separated from the other patients that came and went in a constant flow of bodies, shaken and trembling from the shock of it all, eyes too wide in a vain attempt to process the day.

The constant shuffle left the hallway floors smeared in ash and dust, the janitorial staff working as hard as they could to keep it manageable. Eventually they started having people shake themselves off before they entered.

The doctors made short work of examining MacGrath once she was taken in. No broken bones and no internal damage, the burns on her skin were already healing faster than they had any right to. Pupillary reflex was normal except for the fact that her pupils contracted into vertical slits. Aside from that, they were confident MacGrath didn't have a concussion which was just as well—no one was particularly eager to test if it was even safe to run a CT scan on her let alone an MRI.

“Her vitals are improving every moment but her body is exhausted. Based on what you've told us that's to be expected. I don't need to tell you that we aren't equipped for someone like this so the sooner you can take her off our hands the better.”

For all her training and discipline, Natasha couldn't force herself to relax as the steady sound of a heart monitor reminded her where she was with every beat. Medical settings were a minefield at the best of times and unless she was the one being treated, Wanda knew better than to bring it up, not questioning the decision to go with MacGrath and force Natasha to second-guess what she was doing.

She was a Widow, an Avenger, she could handle being inside a hospital as long as none of the doctors came near her, but she couldn't say that bringing Steve along wasn't something of a fail-safe.

Sitting in the corner chairs across from MacGrath's bed, they quietly searched through a bag of personal belongings one of the nurses brought through.

Most of the items were burnt and tattered. The phone was completely fried, a little metal charm hanging off the corner in the shape of a death's head moth.

A plain black leather wallet seemed to have survived with minimal damage but the cards inside were similarly fried beyond use. Shuffling through them, Natasha noted a couple of bank cards, a library card, and what might have once been a driver's license if it wasn't a melted mess.

The top of a white and blue card caught her eye, tucked into the deepest recess of the wallet behind everything else.

“Anything?” asked Steve, having no luck with the clothes. He folded them neatly into a pile, ignoring that they were almost certainly bound for the trash in such a state and treating them with respect solely because they were still someone's things.

Carefully plucking the card free, Natasha blinked at what she saw.

“Huh, clever girl,” she murmured, holding it up for him.

The card carried similar damage, most of MacGrath's name burned out along with half of her face in the tiny portrait, but what stood out the most were the words printed along the top; 'Massachusetts Institute of Technology,' with faint block letters spelling out 'STUDENT' behind it.

Steve frowned.

Settling back in his chair, he turned his focus to MacGrath, crossing his arms. “How does a student end up in a situation like this?”

She sighed, folding her legs up into her seat, partially to annoy him and partially because it helped her feel more secure. “Definitely not on purpose, this didn't turn out well for her if it was.”

They fell into an uneasy silence, heavy with questions yet to be asked, suspicions festering as they watched the girl sleep.

The nurses had cleaned her up, wiping away the ash and dressing her in a hospital gown without the 'static' issue the EMTs noted.

Natasha's gaze flicked to MacGrath's hands—they hadn't sparked since arriving at the hospital.

She wondered how long that would last.

A knock on the door made them both jump to their feet.

“Evening,” said Fury as he entered, softly closing the door behind him.

Natasha relaxed, trying not to show the tiredness she felt creeping in at the edges. She could have been comfortable snuggled in bed right now but the world's evil rarely waited for convenience.

She stepped aside to let him move deeper into the room. “Nice mess you called us in for, Nick,” she said drily.

Fury threw her a look somewhere between exasperation and understanding. “You know I wouldn't have called for anything less.”

She moved to stand next to him at the girl's bedside, crossing her arms. “Yeah,” she conceded, “doesn't get any easier to look at.”

He glanced between her and Steve. “You all did good work today,” he said firmly. “Your priority going forward will be dealing with the culprits behind this attack, anything else will be delegated through SHIELD. But we can save the full debrief for tomorrow.”

He motioned towards MacGrath. “Tell me about her.”

Steve nodded, hands behind his back. “Name is Kassidy MacGrath. We found her alive at ground zero with lightning erupting from her body. Witness reports said she was holding an unknown device just before the blast. It started glowing and when she couldn't drop it we're told she started screaming at people to get away from her because she had a bomb.”

Fury narrowed his eye. “She couldn't drop it?” he echoed.

Steve gestured politely at her and Natasha answered, “that's what the witness said. He described her bracing her foot against the object hard enough to hurt herself, like it was locked onto her hands.”

“Looks can be deceiving. I'll admit the warning is odd, unless she really was in on this and got cold feet.”

“Maybe, but we won't know anything until she wakes up, and she'll be better off in our hands than here.”

Another knock at the door had them all tense, watching as the door was opened by a tall middle-aged woman in a sharp suit. She had stern, hawkish features and quick eyes, coldly flicking across everyone in the room before landing on Natasha like lasers.

This woman was military, Natasha could tell that much, if not active then an ex-service member probably working for the government. She also knew, immediately, that this woman did not like her.

Fury raised an eyebrow at the intrusion, hand resting comfortably on his hip close to a concealed weapon. “Can we help you?” he asked shortly.

“Yes, and I can help you return, Director Fury,” she said, her voice brusque and to the point with a distinct Tennessee accent.

She calmly closed the door behind her, facing them in a loose parade rest. “I am FBI Agent Mercy Cord and I have been tracking the group responsible for this atrocity for years.”

Fury stepped closer. “If you've been tracking them for so long then why did this happen, Agent Cord?” he asked, scrutinising her from head to toe.

Mercy's jaw flexed. “Because my superiors did not believe them to be threat worth chasing,” she nearly growled, frustration bleeding through. “My concern with them has always been brushed off because they stay under the radar when it comes to American interests.”

She took a steadying breath, something bitter crossing her face. “Besides,” she said, her eyes flicking to Natasha with that laser focus again, “we've all had our hands full chasing snakes in the grass, haven't we?”

Natasha shared a look with Steve.

The ramifications of their renewed fight with Hydra were still being felt even years later, it had shaken US institutions to their core and shattered public perception.

If not for Peggy Carter’s foresight and her refusal to allow in anyone brought over by Operation Paperclip, SHIELD would have been compromised to the point of destruction. As it was, SHIELD was able to do something that left much of the federal apparatus feeling more than a little humiliated; saving it from itself.

With a cold smile, Natasha simply said, “pozhaluysta (you are welcome.)”

Mercy’s glare could have cracked steel but she quickly returned focus to Fury. “Director, I have information you and the Avengers will need going forward,” she said, “but I would much rather discuss the details in a more secure location. I’m sure you understand.”

Nodding slowly, Fury slipped his hand into his coat, relaxing. He met Natasha’s eye and said, “get in touch with Stark and figure out where we need to be.”

At her nod, he turned to face Mercy. “Agent, walk with me.”

Once they left the room, Steve tilted his head. “Do you know her?”

Natasha chuckled. “No.”

At the confused look on Steve’s face, she took pity enough to explain. “I don’t need telepathy to hear someone calling me a ‘fucking Russki’ in their head. She’s FBI, it’s gonna ruffle her feathers that a Russian helped save her country.”

Steve’s face darkened and Natasha waved him off, focusing on the girl. “Put that away,” she said lightly, “you don’t do angry and brooding, that’s Bucky’s job.”

His expression softened. “I can when my friends are disrespected,” he said, low and sincere.

She couldn’t help the small, genuine smile that turned her lips. “Hey, she didn’t say it.”

“No. But you didn’t have to use Russian.”

“It’s funnier that way.”

He snorted, running a hand over his face, and Natasha grinned, pleased with herself for cracking his seriousness, just a little.

People taking issue with her history was nothing new to her and it would never particularly bother her, nothing anyone could say would ever come close to what she said to herself, not when she was her own harshest critic.

For better and often worse, Natasha knew exactly what she’d done throughout her life. Every sordid, murky, awful little detail, and all she could do was try to make up for it, even if those scales would never balance out, even if so much of it was done under duress, under conditioning, brainwashing, with a million little blades correcting her posture, behaviour, ways of thinking, pushing her to be a perfect, unfeeling weapon.

She wasn’t.

She never had been.

But Widows were very good at pretending to be exactly that, wearing a mask was second-nature, etched into their bones. Even now being sincere and vulnerable wasn’t easy, she hated how exposed it made her feel as if she were showing someone exactly where to stab her, but caring about others was nice, and so was being cared about, so she kept trying.

Her thoughts drifted to Wanda and Natasha’s grin softened into something hopelessly tender, something Steve noticed immediately.

He snapped his fingers, breaking her train of thought. “Okay, you can have girlfriend time later, Romanoff,” he teased. “We still have a job to do.”

Natasha rolled her eyes. “Oh please, like you aren’t going to face-time Bucky as soon as we’re home.”

Steve opened his mouth only to promptly close it, a faint blush creeping up his face.

She smirked, “exactly.”

Sobriety set in quickly, however, as their attention returned to MacGrath. The girl remained asleep, the burns on her skin growing fainter by the minute.

Natasha sighed, opening the team comms. “Tony. Are you still at the crater?”

“Nope! Samples collected, Banner and I are getting them secured for transport. What’s up?”

“MacGrath is stable but you saw what she was capable of. She can’t stay in the hospital, it’s too much of a risk. Not to mention, we just got a visit from an FBI Agent who claimed she had intel on the people responsible. Fury is talking to her right now but considering this was years of work for her I doubt she’ll just hand us the intel and step back.”

There was a pause, and Tony grumbled something unintelligible. “So, the kid needs to be somewhere secure and FBI proof, got it. Alright, Tower it is. Easier to keep an eye on them both.”

Once it was organised, Steve went with the transport carrying MacGrath and Natasha returned to the rallying point, only to be redirected to the jet. Most of the team was ready to leave, only some would stay behind to continue monitoring the crater and help recovery efforts.

Climbing the boarding ramp, Natasha gave the city one last look, her breath misting in the chilly evening air.

The streets weren’t as quiet as they should be at such a late hour, with recovery teams broken into day and night shifts the area would see activity day and night as crews worked to uncover bodies, clear rubble, and begin the slow process of rebuilding.

They had done what they could.

If she repeated it enough times perhaps the leaden feeling in her bones would fade.

Trying to exhale the weight, Natasha entered the cabin proper and closed the ramp behind her.

Sam was sitting in the cockpit with Clint, talking quietly, and Tony was out cold in one of the small bunks built into the cabin walls, his suit standing nearby like a guard dog.

Wanda was in one of the chairs, clearly trying not to fall asleep despite the way her head dipped only for her to jolt.

Natasha smiled, silently approaching her. “That doesn’t look like rest to me,” she said lightly.

Green eyes darted up at that and Wanda immediately grabbed her by the shoulder harness, pulling her down into the seat until Natasha had no choice but to sit in Wanda’s lap, held against her body like a cherished teddy bear.

Despite the heat creeping up her neck, Natasha relaxed enough to settle in a more comfortable position, dropping her head to Wanda’s shoulder. “Yeah,” she murmured, finally allowing the exhaustion into her voice, “I’m ready to go home too, lyubimaya (beloved.)”

---

Manhattan, NY 9:12am Avengers Tower

That it was only a mild headache that greeted her in the morning was as much a surprise to Wanda as it was a mercy. She knew she had overdone it by marching into the crater like that, and it would have been worse if not for the energy gel.

The thought of getting up made her groan and pull the duvet over her head.

“You and I both need food after yesterday,” Natasha grumbled from behind.

Wanda smiled despite the throbbing of her temples, enjoying the way Natasha’s Rs curled, grogginess sending her typically flawless American accent into complete disarray.

She dropped a hand down to the arm around her waist, stroking the smooth, warm skin of Natasha’s forearm.

“Can we not stay here for another hour at least?” she muttered.

As if to spite her, FRIDAY’s voice intruded from above.

“Attention, all Avengers are to report to the conference room by 10am for an official debrief. Repeat, all Avengers are to report to the conference room by 10am for an official debrief.”

Natasha’s arm tightened around her waist and Wanda grumbled a few choice words under her breath.

Apologetically, FRIDAY added, “sorry, ladies. Everyone else is awake already.”

With a squeeze of her hip, Natasha easily slid out of the bed and began stretching. She was almost always the morning person and she had probably been awake for a while, dozing on and off until Wanda showed signs of stirring.

Sighing, Wanda got up and began their routine.

They made the bed, showered, and dressed, moving around each other easily, the space between them familiar and comfortable, filled with playful touches and innocent kisses, avoiding anything more involved because they knew they couldn’t waste time getting distracted. Still, Wanda stole all the warmth and light that she could before the seriousness of the debrief, enjoying the coy little curl to Natasha’s lips every time she felt Wanda’s hand on the small of her back or shoulder. The press of lips to her temple or brow made her eyes sparkle in a way no one else got to see and Wanda cherished it like a delicate secret, holding it close to her heart.

Soon enough, they made their way up to the main floor, finding the rest of the team gathered in the kitchen.

Clint and Sam sat the island with coffee, Steve was cooking what smelled like a breakfast scramble in a large skillet, and Tony was foraging for something between the double doors of the fridge.

“Our sleeping beauties!” announced Clint, smiling over a cup of coffee. “You’re finally awake.”

“Weren’t you the last one awake before them?” asked Sam, nudging his shoulder with a smirk.

Clint shrugged. “Yeah but I wasn’t the last.”

Natasha smirked, leaning on the island. “I know you have a sleep mask, Barton,” she said, “it’s very pretty.”

Clint flushed a little, muttering into his coffee, “it’s Laura’s, the silk feels nice.”

Warm laughter bubbled around the room, brightening the morning mood.

The skyline outside was murky and grey, the streets twinkling faintly with car lights as a thick swaddling fog and watery clouds hid the sun from view.

“Recovery drinks, ladies,” said Tony, pulling a tray of ready made smoothies from the fridge. Two cups of the dark green liquid remained, the rest already downed by their teammates.

Breakfast passed quickly, the chatter light and easy until it was time to head to the conference room.

Steve introduced them to FBI Agent Mercy Cord as they filed in, already waiting for them at the head of the table with a stack of folders marked‘Avengers Eyes Only.’

A cursory pass at Agent Cord’s surface thoughts gave away very little and Wanda suppressed a frown, remaining outwardly neutral as she took in everything she could about this new Agent. She remembered Natasha mentioning the encounter at the hospital, but both of them had been so tired that she only recalled the name.

Agent Cord was stark and taut, her posture precise, every movement exacting, and her grey eyes flicked to each member of the team around the table with calculated chill. The only difference came when she looked at Natasha, a flex of the jaw, a twitch of the brows as if she wanted to scowl, then nothing, her face smoothed back into icy indifference. Yet, even then, nothing rose to the surface of her mind–Cord had an iron grip on everything so unless Wanda wanted to immediately alert the Agent to her surveillance, she would have to wait until something slipped.

Wanda narrowed her eyes, filing the observation away for later.

With everyone settled at the table, they contacted Fury via video call.

“Good morning,” he said evenly, “I trust you all managed to get some sleep.”

They each went over everything that happened, detailing the bodies discovered, the people they talked to, samples taken, evidence found, everything that would go into their official written reports later.

Agent Cord remained silent and Fury listened with intense attention to detail as usual, a trait of his that Wanda had slowly gotten used to. It used to feel as if he was trying to catch her out on something, find where she went wrong and prove why she didn’t belong here after all, now she understood it for what it was, simple professional zeal and more than a little dash of Fury’s desire to keep the Avengers safe and functioning. He needed to know everything down to the last detail if SHIELD wanted to stay ahead of any untoward activity against them.

It was an unfortunate truth that many people in power felt threatened by a group such as theirs, even if they had no interest in overthrowing governments and sending entire countries into chaos. Wanda certainly had no desire to inflict that, a nation’s fate should be its own without external interference, that was the point of accepting Hydra's honeyed poison, before she knew the truth.

No, the Avengers were meant to keep innocent people safe, even if that meant embarrassing government officials. They wouldn’t always succeed, they would make mistakes, but they would always try to do better, and Fury knew that.

With each of their accounts covered, Fury moved on to the next topic of discussion. “As you might expect, the clean-up is projected to take months. SHIELD has locked down access to the crater and its immediate surroundings for study, moving forward those teams will be in constant contact with Stark and Banner.”

Tony leaned back in his chair, arms folded. “Make sure your people aren’t hanging around down there,” he said, frustration creeping into his tone, “I don’t know what effect that energy has on the body long-term, if any.”

Fury nodded. “They’re treating it like a radiological hazard.”

He glanced to the side, tapping in a few commands on a console. “We found plenty of information about your guest, and she was a student at MIT, three years ago. She never finished.”

A file came up on their tablets;

Subject - Kassidy Quinn MacGrath

The file came with pictures from different points in the girl's life, some taken from group pictures, others from school yearbooks, and a few were candid shots where Kassidy seemed unaware she was in the picture, focused on a book or science project.

She had pale olive-tone skin, straight black hair, blue eyes, and wore a crooked half-smile when aware of the camera. A sharp jawline and strong nose paired with soft and subtle features made her a rather distinct and pretty young woman, and it clashed violently with the terrified girl Wanda saw yesterday.

None of the pictures showed her piercings, however, nor the current style of her hair, a wolf cut. The pictures showed an otherwise plain girl dressed in conservatively feminine clothing, not a single sign of rebellion.

Fury spoke as they moved to the first real page of the folder. “Kassidy MacGrath, twenty-five years of age. She was born in Northern Ireland to parents Silvia Jäger and Ronan MacGrath and has a twenty-one year old brother, Arthur. The family moved to Boston here in the states when MacGrath was nine and her father began working with a private security firm called Vanguard Security Services.”

Wanda lingered on a family picture, connecting the names to faces. The picture showed everyone in their Sunday best, primly posed and smiling for the camera. Kassidy clearly took after her mother, only sharing her eye colour with Ronan who sported short, sandy blonde hair and stern, gruff features that struggled to carry warmth.

Something about the picture didn’t sit right with Wanda and it took her a moment to hone in on what was bothering her. After all, it was a normal picture. Ronan and Silvia stood in the middle, Silvia's gloved hands resting on the shoulders of Arthur, standing in front of her wearing a navy suit like his father—the boy looked no older than 13. But then there was Kassidy, standing to her mother's right, wearing a modest green dress to match her mother, her eyes completely untouched by the smile on her face.

Another observation to file away for later.

She returned her attention to Fury’s voice. “By all accounts, she was a model student. Kept out of trouble at every turn, maintained a perfect GPA and went on to study physics at MIT with her sights set on theoretical and experimental physics.”

Steve sent Natasha a look of acknowledgement, getting a nod in return.

Tony leaned on the table, flicking through the document. “Disciplined, intelligent, and not afraid of a challenge,” he said flatly, brow furrowing. “What happened?”

“Two and half years into her studies, MacGrath dropped out and started working as a bike courier. No information on why, professors said she was doing great.”

“What about her parents?”

A flicker of something dark crossed Fury’s face. “We attempted to contact them but all they had to tell us was how much of a disgrace to the family she was before hanging up. They refuse to cooperate with us.”

Sam looked up from his tablet. “There’s a story there,” he said carefully, “any sign its connected to what happened yesterday?”

Fury sighed. “That’s the thing. She hasn’t missed a day of work in three years. There isn’t so much as a mark on her driver’s license. Her digital footprint is clean. She has two friends that we know of and doesn’t step out of line. There’s nothing to indicate she was an active participant.”

Clint spoke up, “good kids only run if you give them a reason.” His voice was quiet and hard, contemplative, like a thought that escaped containment.

No one spoke, weighed down by the implication of his statement.

A sick feeling coiled in Wanda’s stomach and she looked at the family picture again, the same discomfort nagging at her with greater insistence.

It wasn’t just the surliness of a teenager who didn’t want to be there.

Fury broke the uncomfortable silence. “Well, there’s more information in the file for you to review. For now, Kassidy MacGrath is under the care of Dr Cho and her team in the Tower. Consider her in protective custody until we can determine the danger of this situation.”

He looked at Mercy. “Now, I believe Agent Cord has information to share with you.”

“Thank you, Director Fury,” Cord said politely.

She moved with practised efficiency, handing out physical folders to each of them until she stood at the head of the table again where she typed commands into the projector interface. “Now, as I told Captain Rogers and Agent Romanoff yesterday, I have been tracking the group responsible for yesterday’s atrocity for years.”

A holographic projection showed them a symbol of scissors cutting through a rope arranged to represent infinity. The scissors weren’t of a modern design, but ancient, more like shears one would see on Greek pottery.

Agent Cord continued. “They’re known as the Severed Society. They were founded in the late 1800s, a secret society of mentalists and occultists, but since the end of World War 2 their focus shifted to experimental sciences and their numbers exploded. They are well funded, well connected, and have operated quietly for decades. Their business in the United States is in pharmaceuticals and the like, for which they use fronts to avoid being connected. Unfortunately for them, they caught my attention.”

Several images came up showing groups of men and women in distinctive dark blue and white combat uniforms, faces covered. Their gear looked custom made rather than surplus, and they were kitted out with enough weaponry for a small army. On the pale chest-plate of each uniform the same symbol of the rope and shears was emblazoned in black.

Cord went on to explain how the Severed Society operated outside the US, engaging in wet work, kidnapping, trafficking, assassinations, and torture, just to name a few. Whatever built them connections, drew in more money and resources for their research projects, they did it with zero remorse or hesitation.

Tony interjected, “what were they researching?”

She paused, lips pursing. “The Shroud.”

At Tony's frown, Agent Cord continued. “There was a scientist in the 80s by the name of Christopher Ray. He believed the neuro-electricity of all sapient beings carried a certain power to it, ‘cardinal’ energy he called it. The Shroud is a dimension where that energy gathers, concentrating in the same places people are like galactic filaments concentrate matter throughout the cosmos.

I wouldn’t have believed it until yesterday. I believed the Severed Society to be dangerous, that they were working towards something big in their mad quest for this thought dimension.”

Cord frowned deeply, ruminating.

Tapping the console, she brought up the holographic projection of an octahedron and what looked to be vastly simplified schematics of its inner workings. A metal casing surrounding complex electronics and crystalline shielding, built around a glowing core of unidentified material.

Tony leaned forward, eyes fixed on the image, taking in every detail he could.

Agent Cord crossed her arms. “This is their crown jewel; the Cardinal Matrix. A tool designed to drain the neuro-electric energy from everyone nearby and concentrate it into an individual. This transfer briefly inundates the surrounding area with cardinal energy, like a little piece of the Shroud bled through. Considering Miss MacGrath was doing her best impression of a lighting rod yesterday, I’d say it worked.”

The phrasing grated and Wanda shifted in her seat, keeping her eyes firmly on the documents showing clearer pictures of the Cardinal Matrix. The holographic display didn’t quite capture the strange wave-like pattern on the metal.

She noticed Natasha looking in her periphery and lightly nudged their boots together, a silent signal that she was fine.

Wordlessly, Natasha returned her attention to Cord.

Steve asked, “who leads them?”

Everyone looked at Agent Cord then, and she brought up new images. Pictures taken from near and afar, footage from what appeared to be body cameras, all showing a figure draped in white.

With a sense of reluctance, Cord admitted, “I don’t know as much as I’d like, but they call her Damocles.”

The woman wore white from head to toe, with a military coat and a tight hood pulled over her head, her face hidden by a snarling metal mask reminiscent of a tiger. Its mouth was full of shining coppery teeth, and the eyes glowed blue, frigid and unfeeling. Metal armour reinforced the legs and her hands were encased in clawed gauntlets.

In the body cam footage she moved with an eerie calm in what seemed to be the aftermath of a fight, smoke wafting through the air around her as she approached the camera. Whoever wore it appeared to already be dead, sprawled on the floor of some old factory judging by the industrial environment.

Damocles crouched over the body, inspecting it, before a digitised voice addressed her by name. She stood up, peering at the body for a moment longer before she lifted her boot and crushed the camera.

Agent Cord’s mouth twisted. “Aside from her name, I know that she has two direct underlings who go by Wraith and Imperatus, and all three of them are enhanced. Damocles is fast, strong, and hard to hurt. Imperatus has telekinetic powers, and Wraith…” she trailed off, sighing. “I don’t know what she can do, specifically. All I’ve been able to gather is that she's a nightmare that Damocles releases on the Society’s enemies. Imperatus is more reserved, a real right hand rather than an attack dog.”

Natasha spoke up, asking a question that had been quietly rattling around everyone’s heads. “How haven’t we noticed these guys before?”

It was less a direct question for Agent Cord and more of an escaped thought, like Clint’s observation, and it was perfectly reasonable. For a group with so much dedication, resources, and history, the fact that none of them had ever heard of them before this attack was alarming.

However, Cord just nodded in understanding. “You begin to see why I fought with my superiors,” she said shortly. “Nothing the Society did threatened American interests, it was always either above board or off in some war torn backwater they could pretend didn’t matter. But weeds grow out of control where you don’t look, we already had to learn that lesson the hard way with Hydra. I did not want to see it happen again with the Severed Society.”

She sighed, hands resting on her hips. “Now thousands of American citizens are dead and suddenly they’re all ears,” she sneered, “would’ve spat in their faces if I didn’t have a duty to fulfil.”

Steve stood up from his chair, leaning on the table as he levelled a serious look at Cord. “Well, this Severed Society has our attention, and I promise we will do everything in our power to bring Damocles down.”

Cord stared at him for a moment, scrutinising his expression as if expecting to find a hint of deception, something that told her his words were nothing but hot air, just trying to appease her concerns like her superiors did. When she didn’t find what she was looking for, her shoulders relaxed ever so slightly. “Thank you, Captain.”

Looking at the rest of the team, she offered a very rusty yet polite smile. “I look forward to working with you all.”

Fury closed out the meeting, reminding them all to study the files and log their reports.

Tony disappeared to the lab while Clint showed Agent Cord to the guest quarters, and Natasha split off to get ahead on filing her report. Steve and Sam stayed behind to read and continue talking.

Wanda, however, took the lift up to medical. She needed to see for herself, to settle the mental image of a terrified, broken girl pulled from the wreckage of a devastated city.

The medical bay always struck her as too alienating so she tried not to end up there if she could help it. It was cold and clinical, tinged by the faint smell of bleach that never failed to remind her of Hydra’s frigid hospitality. At least the smell of blood didn’t hang in the air too.

She found Dr Cho in her office, and Helen immediately understood, showing her where they were keeping Kassidy.

The medical bay had one operating theatre, a small ward fitted to hold an entire team of battered Avengers, and an intensive care unit that could double as a secure holding cell should they find themselves in exactly this position, with someone hurt and potentially dangerous on their hands. The room had reinforced walls, a security door, and the observation window could withstand anti-tank rounds, so containing a little lightning should be easy enough.

Surrounded by all manner of machinery to keep track of her vital signs, Kassidy remained peacefully asleep, the burns from yesterday completely gone.

Something loosened in Wanda’s chest at the sight, and she took a breath, slowly releasing it as if she could exhale her anxiety with it.

“She’s very strong,” Helen said. “There’s nothing medically wrong to cause this comatose state, her body has simply gone through an intensely traumatic transformation and needs time to adjust. ”

“The burns–was that you, or?”

“No, whatever happened to her in that crater seems to have accelerated her natural healing. I’m unsure to what extent, but I’d much rather save any tests for when she’s awake and I can discuss them with her. For now, she needs rest, her body will wake when it’s ready.”

Wanda nodded, thanking Helen and allowing her to return to her work.

Standing outside the observation window a while longer, Wanda tried to put the pieces together in her head, the uncomfortable family portrait, dropping out of university, falling into a mess like this, and the terror, the sheer, primal fear she felt in that crater.

She nearly jumped when Steve’s voice greeted her. “Hey.”

Wanda shook the disparate thoughts from her head and smiled, though it felt forced. “Hello, Steve.”

He came to stand beside her, watching Kassidy rest with that furrow to his brow when he was trying to figure out the best way to protect someone. “Didn’t get a chance on the way back,” he started, his voice steady and gentle, “I just wanted to check on you, see how you were doing after a mission like that.”

She let her eyes drop to the floor, sitting with the weight of his words, the care behind them. When he first started to do that, her response had been to clam up, to lift her walls as high as they could go and pretend to be fine, assure him she wasn’t going to be a problem, she wouldn’t be a burden. But over time, Steve began to see through it, began to carefully chip at her defences until she started being honest with him, and he would look at her without judgement, simply listening.

He had the makings of a wonderful older brother.

The thought still stung, warm though it was.

Sighing, Wanda sent him a sad smile. “It’s always going to remind me,” she whispered, simple and to the point.

Steve turned to face her and held out his arms in a silent offer.

Another thing she had gotten used to, and something Wanda accepted gratefully, allowing Steve to wrap her up in a big bear hug that ever so gently squeezed the air out of her lungs.

He let her go, smiling. “Want to go for a run?”

She groaned, shoving him away with no real strength behind it. “You will kill me, Rogers.”

He grinned, offering a bent arm like a gentleman. “I promise I won’t run you ragged. But it’ll do us both good.”

With a dramatic sigh, she linked arms with him as he started walking them to the lifts. “If I drop you can explain yourself to Natasha.”

He chuckled warmly.

---

Please enjoy some visual aids regarding Damocles ✨

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#wanda maximoff #natasha romanov #wandanat #marvel cinematic universe #wanda x oc #natasha romanoff #mcu #avengers #mcu fanfiction #lesbian #wlw fanfic #Natasha x oc #fic: in the wake of fire

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koolades-world · 10 months ago

Note

Hi! I just thought it would be funny to request all the characters with an MC who drives like a maniac. The no-speed limit sign is their bestie at this point!

hi! sure thing! in honor of me earning my drivers license, I figured this would be fitting. not sure how long this will take to be posted, but i'm writing this on august 23th, the day i actually got my license lol

enjoy <3

Maniac Driver Mc

Lucifer

oh you're going to be the death of him

this old man will have a heart attack and it may or may not be because of you

but! he still loves you lol. just, maybe at least try to go a little slower when he's in the car haha

Mammon

he's probably so excited

another fellow speed demon! (haha get it? lol)

can and will invite you to do illegal street racing that you probably will get caught by lucifer doing

Levi

please, for his sake, be careful when he is in the car

being outside is hard enough for him bestie

unless you want him to turn into either jelly or a puree, try to tone it down, just a little haha

Satan

i cannot decide if he'd be judging you or encouraging you

either way, it's subtle

seems like the type to hand you notes that you didn't know he was taking about the ride and what you could improve

Asmo

he seems like he would enjoy it

plus, he can get tons of cute passenger princess photos!

as long as you take him to the stores you promised, he doesn't care how you get there

Beel

he would not care

if you like to go fast, you like to go fast

although do be mindful, he will be eating in the car and if you stop abruptly, the snacks will go flying everywhere. choose your battles lol

Belphie

let's be so real

he is asleep. car rides are ideal for napping

just don't take sharp turns or do anything to wake him up, and he will not care

Diavolo

he loves new experiences!

anything that might kill lucifer is something he's dying to try

and what better person to try it with then with someone lucifer can't say no to?

Barbatos

he might not look it

but he also tends to speed lol

since he's barb, he always knows exactly when to slow down and be careful and always lets you know when to do so as well

Simeon

he's very chill about it actually

he can usually be found in the back seat reading a book

if he's the one behind the wheel, he's a very safe driver and is the one people call a slow poke (see thirteen)

Luke

he's always asking you not to do it because he's afraid for your wellbeing

he gifts you a keychain for your car keys that he personally blessed

at the very least, you never speed when he's in the car because it's luke

Solomon

i'm very torn between him not knowing how to drive at all and also being a chaotic driver

if he can't drive he insist you teach him

if he's also an agent of chaos on the road, he's for sure timing you and enabling you lol

Mephisto

his dramatic ass is for sure the one gripping the handles overhead and gripping his chest like a mom teaching her kid to drive

to be fair he probably doesn’t have a license because he has a chauffeur

just tell him what you’re doing is totally legal and that you know better haha

Thirteen

she's excited for the ride

she is one-hundred percent the one encouraging your behavior

will also make fun of all of the people you pass on the road by calling them slow pokes lol

Raphael

he just does not get it

why do you ignore the set rules for the road?

honestly, he accepts this fact pretty easily and while he could get you to stop, he's kind of interested in seeing where this might go

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rpdepartment · 2 years ago

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mundane headcanons

🌅 morning routine

at what time do they generally wake up?

do they tend to wake up early and take their time, or would they rather rush it?

how many alarms do they need to wake up?

are they a morning person?

bathroom first or breakfast first?

do they take a shower to wake up?

coffee, tea, milk or juice?

sweet or savoury breakfast?

what do they like to have for breakfast?

do they prepare their clothes before going to sleep, or do they prefer to improvize?

do they spend a lot of time dressing up, fixing their hair and/or putting on makeup?

🚿 personal hygiene

how often do they take a shower/bath?

shower or bath?

shower/bath in the morning, afternoon or evening?

do they use specific perfumes?

do they prefer their shampoos and soaps plain, or do they like to smell like something specific?

do they have specific shampoos, conditioners and body wash, or do they go with a 3-in-1?

what's their go-to flavor when it comes to toothpaste?

🍕 food breaks

do they have set times for their meals, or do they eat whenever they feel like it?

do they have a proper meals everyday, or do they tend to skip or get just a snack for lunch/dinner?

are they a home-cooking kind of person, or do they rather get takeouts?

if they eat at work/school, do they take time to prepare even just a sandwich at home before going out?

do they tend to have any make-ahead meals?

do they tend to have leftovers?

how often do they get fast food?

how often do they go to restaurants?

🧹 chores

are they the one doing most chores in the house?

which chore is the one they dread doing the most?

do they wash the dishes right after a meal, or do they leave them in the sink until it's impossible to ignore them?

do they have the dreaded "laundry chair" where they put dirty clothes on?

do they make their bed in the morning, or leave it undone until it's time to sleep?

🚗 transports

do they have a driving license, wether it's for a car or bikes?

do they have any other kind of driving licences ( planes, ships, buses... )

do they own a car?

do they own a bike?

are they the kind of person who think of their car as if it was their baby? perfectly clean, not a scratch, almost overly protective of it?

do they use public transports? if so, do they like using them?

do they like going on trains?

do they like going on boats or ships?

do they like going on airplanes?

📱 phone

what phone do they have?

do they use specific ringtones depending on who calls them, or do they use just one for everyone?

how often do they check their phone?

do they keep their phone's audio volume on, or do they prefer the vibration or? or do they rather have it silenced?

how many apps to they have on their phone, give or take?

do they have games on their phone?

what's their background and lock-screen?

💻 social media

are they registered to any social media?

how often do they log in?

how many followers do they have?

do they follow a lot of people?

how easy is it for them to block someone online?

what do they tend to post online ( art, videos, just starting fights online... )?

did they ever get in an online fight?

do you think they'd have callouts about them?

😴 sleeping routine

at what time do they tend to go to sleep?

do they take anything to help them sleep ( medicines, chamomilles, warm milk... )?

how much does it take for them to fall asleep?

are they a light or a heavy sleeper?

do they snore, talk and/or move a lot while sleeping?

do they dream often?

what kind of dreams to they tend to have?

do they prefer to be in complete darkness to fall asleep, or are they ok with a bit of light?

do they need the door or the windows open, or do they prefer them closed when they go to sleep?

what's their usual sleeping position?

where is their bed? with a side against the wall, in the middle of the room... ?

#headcanon prompts #headcanon prompt #prompts #prompt #rp prompts #ask meme

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plentyeyes · 2 years ago

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portfiend's oc directory template

three weeks ago i began work on a little Eleventy-based website template for storing character information akin to Toyhou.se. it's been in a releasable state for about a week, but i've also been pushing updates to it near daily!

i also wrote up a quick tutorial for setting up the project on its download page, but i plan to improve it in the future.

click here to preview this template: NeoCities click here to get the code: GitHub

features:

built-in "namespaces" for characters, locations, and stories, with their own page templates and information card formats

uses eleventy's tagging system to allow you to tag pages for fine categorization

a big focus on linking to other pages. each "creative" page lets you navigate between the previous/next item in the category. pages have a "linked pages" list that allow you to navigate to related pages, including "what links here"

a content filtering system allowing developers to hide/blur certain content from people who have not opted into it. optionally supports needing to click an "i am 18+" box before entering the site

lightbox images; clickable image links that can reveal metadata such as captions and artist credits

tabbed views allow you to view specific sections of content at a time, used in the various creative pages

SASS wrapper for optional better-formatted stylesheets. don't know how to use SASS syntax? SASS also supports regular CSS!

this project is licensed under MIT License.

#neocities #neocities template #website template #web resources #webdev #indie web #indieweb #character directory #original character #worldbuilding #worldbuilding resources

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petalruesimblr · 1 year ago

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Hello everyone! Lately, I've been interested in creating part-time careers and have been brainstorming various kinds of realistic options that can be used for The Sims 3.

This time, I'm back with a Medical Support Staff part-time career. It combines different part-time roles in the medical field, such as Medical Receptionist, Medical Records Clerk and Medical Scribe and these roles don't necessarily require a license or a college degree.

If you are interested, click on ’Keep Reading’ below for more information and pictures of the Medical Support Staff Part-Time Career.

Medical Support Staff

Sim File Share

Join our Medical Support Staff Team in providing essential support services to our patients and medical professionals. Assist with administrative tasks, provide support to patients and be a vital part of our healthcare operations. Apply now and become a part of our dedicated team making a difference in healthcare!

Career Type: Part-Time Available for: Young Adults, Adults and Elders Available Languages: English Levels: 3 Rabbit Hole: Hospital Work Days: M, T, W, F Work Hours: 9AM - 12PM Does it have Carpool? Yes Does it have Uniforms? Yes (same uniforms used for the Medical career; Bed Pan Cleaner, refer to pictures above) File Type: Package Min. Required Game Version: 1.42 Packs Needed: The Sims 3 📣 All descriptions for the levels, tones and metrics as well as skills required, salary, uniforms and other details are provided on the pictures above.

NRAAS Careers Mod

I decided to use game screenshots from The Sims 3 that I took during the testing period instead of creating detailed images because it takes less time compared to the other one and I've been quite busy these past few days. You may have noticed my new post format, which I'm trying out to see if it works for me. Since I started my Simblr account, I've been experimenting with what works or looks good with my theme. Hopefully, I will find something that I'll be happy with. So, I hope you'll be patient with me as I tend to change things every now and then. The Charisma skill is added as one of its metrics because this part-time career mostly involves interacting with patients and fellow medical staff. This includes tasks such as checking in patients, scheduling appointments and coordinating medical procedures with different teams in the hospital. Logic is also the other Metric as I think the longer you work in that setting you will eventually learn the medical jargons especially if you have been promoted to the highest level and need to accurately record everything during patient examinations. As stated above, you will need NRAAS Careers Mod for these careers to show up in the game and as long as you have the latest version of it, it should work for higher patches. You can also read my #psa regarding these careers, click here. I’m not fluent in any other languages to translate so if anyone is interested in translating this career, please don’t hesitate to send me a message here, comment on this post or let me know in my new Ask/Contact form (if you don't have a Tumblr account) and will let you know the details. I have tested this career in my game, so far it is working and all scripts are showing up. All feedback is very welcome to help me learn and improve my skills so please let me know if you experience any problems on your end and I’ll do my best to sort it as soon as possible.

MissyHissy step-by-step tutorial Twallan for the Career Mod S3pe

#petalruesimblr #custom career #the sims 3 #ts3 #ts3cc #the sims 3 part time #sims 3 #ts3 simblr #ts3 simmer #sims 3 download #sims 3 screenshots #ts3 download #ts3 mods #ts3 community #ts3 screenshots #ts3 career #the sims 3 mods #the sims 3 career

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quirkwizard · 6 months ago

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It’s kinda funny how much 1B got ignored in the final arc, and from a narrative perspective it makes sense not to clutter things up to much but aside from a few brief appearances the arguably best attention they get is for monoma for copying warpgate and eraser. With that being said assuming anyone cared enough what do you think the class B “Iron Might” items would be like?

That just makes me think that All Might just has another car full of tech just for the 1-B kids. All For One thinks he's got Toshinori dead to rights and his second car, Heracles, comes out of nowhere with another suit like it's the second stage of a boss fight.

-Awase: Giant metal pillars that fire out and sear themselves onto the target to deal damage and weight them down.

-Kamakiri: A giant sword. Would it be more fitting to have swords pop out of him? Yes, but I want him carrying a buster sword.

-Kuroiro: A cape-like extension meant to camouflage with it's surroundings to hide the user.

-Kendo: Giant fists. Just a ton of armor all coming together to make a giant set of meaty claws.

-Kosei: Sets of floating plates that act as both platforms and shields as All Might needs them.

-Komori: Sprays that activate a fast growing mold meant to fester in wounds and inhibit breathing.

-Manga: A series of marked grenades around the suit that can disperse various effects, such as a flames or electricity.

-Juzo: A set of drills from the hands that can help him rapidly dig underground.

-Reiko: A series of drones meant to latch onto and control anything All Might sicks them on.

-Rin: A set of tiny, jagged plates that can stab anyone the user grapples and be fire out like bullets.

-Shoda: Pilebunker. Just a giant hydraulics system meant to add some extra punch to his fist attacks.

-Ibara: A series of cables to coming from the back of the suit to tangle and bind with.

-Tetsutetsu: It's a giant suit of armor that helps protect All Might from bigger attacks. It's literally the same as Kirishima's.

-Bondo: A cannon near the upper back of the suit that fires out the same face acting concrete used in the License Exam.

-Sen: Various gyros around the suit to make parts of the armor spin and help improve the damage of the other weapons systems.

-Jutora: An additional layer of armor meant to augment the user's natural strength and give a more beastly appearance.

-Pony: Missiles. Just a bunch of homing missiles centered on whomever is unlucky enough to be in his line of sight.

-Setsuna: A series of small, multi-purpose drones linked up to the suit's sensory system. Maybe they could double as quick replacement parts.

-Kodai: Various pieces of micro tech that's meant to unfold and expand into larger weapons. Possibly used in tandem with ome of the other weapon systems.

-Monoma: An operating system meant to monitor and redeploy the various tools in play, effectively acting as the reserve for all the other gadgets.

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chelnciel · 1 year ago

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Some thoughts post ch 23 and bringing back an old tweet from Harusono as a lighthouse

Kagi setting the record straight, saying that "he's not a good little boy" I think is a way to get Hirano to get rid of the idea he has of him: that he is his “little brother” in the dorm. It's a good way to separate herself from the image of a child to be taken care of, letting him see that he wants to be his potential partner and that he's actually horny for him and isn't just looking for filial affection. All in all, this is the pass for Hirano to really understand what a romantic love implies (so far Kagi's advances have been very innocent, between holding hands and patting each other's hair... Dude realize that Kagi is a boy with urges).

Kagi has been struggling too with his internalized view of romantic love which we have been shown much more of in the story) going from idealizing romantic love as his parents (a relationship like friends), to actually feeling a romantic love that at first does not let him sleep, and now only allows him to long for physical contact with his partner. This has also been hard and he has had to understand little by little how that love feels like and that it is very different from what he felt with his old girlfriend (I'll give myself a license, I think at most he reach 1st base with her).

During the last chapters we have had more panels of Kagi looking bigger/manlier and I don't think it is only because of the improvement in Harusono's drawing skills, it is also the approach she has been giving, for example, highlighting more the physical difference between them, mentioning much more that he is popular among girls in addition to the fact that explicitly in the novel they mention that for Kagi's 2nd year, he looks much more masculine through Kuresawa's eyes

I think sensei has been showing us little by little this less childish Kagi, as if we were discovering him at the same time as Hirano, and the truth is that I love to see that we finally have some more development for this character.

And this is where I remember an old tweet from Harusono (sadists v/s masochists which tells us who like to tease and who like to being teased)

Ok, in the chart we see that Kagi is the most inclined to the S (excluding the dorm manager), but Hirano is still inclined to that side, and sensei even mentions that he might be even more to the left in this graph.

I don't know what to expect anymore (I have too many ideas going around), but my hopes for the next chapters are: that they start "trying to date”, drop the 10 second rule (Kagi had already used it in the morning and then in the afternoon again insisted on it, so this rule has slowly been ignored) and finally Hirano was the one who took the initiative, without waiting for Kagi to ask for his touches.

Could this trigger Hirano's curiosity about Kagi's past love?

Inevitably I make the comparison with SSMY. In chapter 23/24 they are at the school festival, and Sasaki locks Miyano in the classroom to talk to him, where they chat and he only comes over to hug him.

But in HRKG they put more emphasis on the physical side of the relationship (at this point, it seems to me that it portrays quite well the effervescence of adolescence where things are experienced more intensely), so the hugs and shy approaches already happened, So I think that to allow this story to move forward, slow burn must take a step aside.

But...

To what extent can Harusono develop a story where the sexual awakening of its characters is treated? (don't get me wrong, I don't mean something explicit, but considering they are love stories, I think it's a natural part of relationships, and I personally believe that she’s given us several clues that she wants to take the stories to that development), then, what are the creative freedom that can be taken in this regard considering the demographics of the magazine where they are published?? Since she mentioned the +18 fanbox, which then unfortunately was canceled, I have the doubt of what both the publisher and his editors allow her to do, because I see that although the stories of SSMY and HRKG are by the same author, same school and characters, the stories develop at a very different pace, and I think that in the case of HRKG the physical component is something that has been from the beginning as a natural part of its dynamics.

So what can we expect for the future?

#Ok I think it was too long #and I still haven't gotten everything out of my head #I hope this makes some sense #Hirano’s image in his summer uniform will live on my retina #hirano to kagiura #hirano and kagiura #hirano y kagiura #hirakagi #kagihira #hirano taiga #taiga hirano #kagiura akira #akira kagiura

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dienothemink · 1 month ago

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like I don’t mean to be cynical* here but I guess what I’m worried about is that i get to the back half of the series to find that roshar’s proto-therapy has evolved into a (perhaps less advanced) imitation therapy/psychiatry as we know it today, and that this would reify the idea that the main problem with locking the insane in dark rooms is that the rooms are dark. lol. rather than getting more of what kaladin was doing (seeing an unbiased third party work through trying to help someone** while consistently affirming their autonomy and operating on an equal level. good shit.) or at least deconstructing the concept and its ethics & etc.

*the reason I don’t think this cynicism is without cause is the use of modern therapy language in the most recent book, coupled with an unfortunate tendency ive noticed in sanderson to set up really interesting concepts in cultural or social systems and then fumble the ball on them repeatedly. sad! wellthere are other books.

**okay he’s not like, great at it at first lol, he’s untrained in things that may be likely to help and is working entirely off of experience, but that sort of goes back to the fact that what he’s doing isn’t therapy at all. it could certainly be improved upon, but kal did a lot right that my real-life licensed psychotherapist shit the bed on, which is part of what’s so interesting about this

#cosmere radicalism #<- my crit tag for those who would like to block it but I stay pretty mild these days lol

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rexlroze · 1 year ago

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𝟏 — 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐀𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐟𝐞

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Hobie Brown / SpiderPunk x Fem! Reader

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.7K

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Use of Y/N, no physical description of reader (other then their clothing), Swearing, Mention of Alcohol, Mention of bugs, Violence/Fighting, and mostly Fluff I think.

𝑁𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑔𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠

𝑀𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

A/N: This is my first time EVER writing a proper fanfic so if it sucks. Yeah. Idk- I tried my best tbh and hope y'all like it cuz if not, idk either. I'll be doing a tag list so if you want in, uh. Comment or sumn ig. Leave tips for me to improve in areas you think I need improvement! Also this isn't exactly canon to Earth-138. It's set in the early 2000s cuz no way am I writing for the fucking 1960s or whatever fuckin' year that mf comes from. I don't do requests nor do I plan on doing so. Happy Reading! 💛

Chapter 1 >>> Chapter 2

Recently, you just moved out of your parents house into a small cozy apartment in the North of London. About 200 miles away from your mummy and daddy dearest.

“No ma, I've already rented out my parlor. 'm not changing my mind at the last minute.” You grumbled into your phone as your mom hounded you with questions about literally everything. Your health, food, water, apartment and your new parlor.

Your new parlor, you were proud to say. You had finally rented out a small shop in Camden which was about a 10 minutes walk away from your apartment.

The only problem was that the area where your shop was grounded, it was in a small narrow area where people barely passed by and only a few residents lived and since you couldn't really afford a better place due to the flies that flew out of your wallet when you opened it and your limited budget, you just had to deal with it.

“Just know, if you ever need anything sweetie, me and your pops are always here.” Your mother reassured you sweetly but you could hear the concern trailing behind her voice.

“Yeah thanks, ma. Love you, and dad.”

“Love you too, sweets. But if you need anything like money, food or even—”

“Ma.” You cut her off abruptly.

“Yes?”

“I'll be fine, alright? I love you.”

“We love you too, sweetie.” She finally answered after a second of hesitation.

With that, you hung up the phone. Beeps punctuated the silence hanging in your room before you let out a deep sigh.

You sunk into your bed, looking up at the ceiling. As supportive your parents tried to be, they didn't really trust you with your career choices. The first time you told them you wanted to be a body piercer, they laughed and brushed it off… that was until they figured out you were being 100% serious.

You were grateful they didn't try to stop you, not directly at least because they never failed to mention and suggest a few other paths of careers. They got to the point of getting so desperate that they even suggested acting school but alas, you were as stubborn as a mule.

You got your license around 2 months ago. You can still remember yourself squealing and hopping around in your (old) room like a five year old who just got a puppy for Christmas. You couldn't wait to finally quit your side job (which was being a boring cashier with fake smiles and a faker kindness towards the karens that walked in and ruined your Monday mornings) and start your own little business in London. Your literal dream.

I'll get to work tomorrow. You thought to yourself since it was pretty much late afternoon now, turning the next 3 hours into a continuation of scrolling on your phone, listening to music on blast from the speakers sitting by your desk and knocking yourself out with some cheap bottle of booze that you bought during your ride to your apartment from the airport.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Making your way through the streets of Camden, you didn't fail to see the liveliness of it. People busy with their own lives, friends giggling, children skipping, couples holding hands, staring at one another with heart eyes.

Something squeezed your heart at the sight of the adorable couple. It reminded you of what you could've had with him if he hadn't… but unfortunately, what life throws at you isn't really under your control no matter how much you wish it could be.

You brushed off the nostalgia quickly and turned a corner, finding your parlor that you had rented about a week ago. You were met by sudden silence. The streets were quiet and empty other then the two teenage boys who were giggling and had run away after when you arrived, disappearing into a narrow alleyway.

You walked to where they previously stood just to see a poster. Specifically a band poster that was vibrant with different colors. A lanky punk boy posed in the middle of the poster with a guitar slung over his shoulder accompanied by three other members.

You couldn't help but get lost in the beauty of said punk boy. Honey-coated eyes that shone back at you, the color complimenting his ebony complexion along with his puffy jet-black hair that were braided into wicks, jawline so sharp that it made you wonder what it would feel like to run your fingers along them.

You shook your head, breaking the love trance you were stuck in. You didn't have time for dating, falling in love or whatever, not that you wanted to either. Your eyes zeroed on the big font at the bottom of the page.

“Spidersica, performing this 9th March at 9:30pm.” You read out loud to yourself. Almost 2 weeks away. Shrugging, you turn back to your shop. You'll decide what to do with that information on a later date.

You twisted the door knob that was attached to the black sleek door with the obscure glass window adorning it. The gold paint was scraping off the knob revealing the silver underneath. Besides that, when you turned the knob, the door didn't budge. You twisted it once more. Nothing. You pushed the door while twisting the knob the third time. Nothing again.

Slamming your body against the door in frustration, making the door burst open and you fall through it onto the cemented flooring. The bell atop the door chimed, swinging back and forth, mocking and taunting you.

Get the door fixed, you made a mental note as you pushed yourself up back onto your two feet. Running a hand over your T-shirt and straightening it.

You scanned the room, eyes roaming over the unused facility. Cobwebs decorating the corners of the roof, dust bunnies waving at you from the floor, old cream wallpaper peeling off the walls revealing the cemented wall beneath, the polluted air making you have a cough fit after you inhaled some dust accidentally.

Unshed tears pricked your eyes as your coughing fit wore off after a little while. “This could use some renovations,” you croaked out to no one in particular as you switched the light switch on.

The light bulb lit up producing a very bright light (brighter than normal) that illuminated the room. At least something works— your train of thought was cut off when the light bulb abruptly exploded.

“Just had to jinx it,” you grumbled, placing your hand onto your face.

You found your way to some curtains beside the door, pulled the long dirty brown pieces of linen apart, revealing a huge window that let the warm sunlight seep in and lighten the dark room. You slid the windows up to let the toxic air out and fresher air in.

Get the curtains replaced. You noted down somewhere in your brain as you took in the hideous pattern of the curtains.

You walked around the shop, letting your hand trace the long wooden counter that extended from the wall. Dust collecting at your fingertips that you wiped off on your shirt.

Making your way through the shop, you found a recessed door that was fixed into the left wall on the opposite side of the parlor. You gently turned the door knob not wanting to repeat the incident that transpired a few minutes ago. It opened without a fight.

When you peeked your head in, you found yourself in a small closet room. Metal shelves up against both sides of the wall with various random and dirty objects decorating them. The closet was just as filthy as the rest of the shop.

You found boxes, some small, some large sitting at the other end of the closet. That must be the furniture! You think, making your way towards them.

As you pick up one of the boxes carefully, wrapping both arms around the box that was bigger than your own head. You suddenly yelped falling back on your butt, the box falling into your lap.

“Fuck no!” You screeched in horror as you saw a cockroach fly up in the air. “Nononononono.”

You dashed out the closet, almost tripping on your shoe laces that came undone who knows when, slamming the door shut so the pesky rodent wouldn't escape and terrorize the rest of your shop as well. “What the fuck!”

Mental note 3, get pest fucking control. So far, the day was not going as planned.

You released a deep breath pulling your phone out from your back pocket to check for damage. You've never been more grateful for the invention of phone cases in your life. You doubted your phone could bear another crack on it's already kinda-fucked-up screen.

Pocketing your phone once again, your hands rested on your hips. You stared at the floor trying to calm down. “Fuckin’ hell,” you murmured to yourself rubbing your eye with the heel of your palm.

You kicked off your left shoe and turned back to the closet, mentally preparing yourself for the battle your a lifetime.

—

After fighting for your life and clearing out your closet of any other unpleasantries that may surprise the living Christ out of you, you pulled out your phone and began typing in some to-dos into the notes app. Tile installment, cleaning, probably pipe replacement, a door fix, bulb and wiring replacement, paint, decoration and all that stuff with the budget of five fucking hundred pounds. Just yay.

You left the parlor with determination to accomplish your goal; renovate. You thought as you found your way through the door and back on the streets of Camden.

In a matter of a few hours, you had managed to hire a few mechanics and workers to, one, install marble floorings into the parlor, two, get any pipelines or such fixed, three, get all cracks and crevices in the walls plastered, four, fix the door lock, and fix, rewire and reinstall the lightbulb. All in the cost of four hundred and thirty pounds, and with the seventy pounds left, you could buy the paint, curtains, and other pleasantries as such.

Walking through the appliances stores, your phone on hand as you check off a few to-do boxes. Satisfaction bloomed in your chest to see how much you had done in the matter of a day.

A small smile spread across your face as you made your way towards the next shop when a sudden boom behind you made you stop in your steps.

Screams fill the air but they're tuned out by the sudden high-pitched ringing in your ears. People passed by you running towards the exit and evacuating while you just stood there, unable to move for some reason when finally, your head snapped towards the chaos to see what everyone was running away from.

Green Goblin. You had seen him on the news whenever you scrolled on your phone for too long or when you scrolled through the TV channels and ended up on the news channel but never did you think you'd see him in real life but if the Green Goblin was here then…

Abruptly, the villainous individual who was flying abounding on his hoverboard and terrorizing everyone in the mall was knocked off by a swift kick. The one who delivered it was quick, you only saw the red and blues colors blurring together. Oh my fucking god, no way.

Slowly, the blurs of color started mashing together into an appropriate form. It's Spider-Punk. THE fucking Spider-Punk. And you were seeing him not through tv, but through your own goddamn eyes.

You watched as the Green Goblin regained his composure and lunged towards Spider-Punk. The two vigilantes participating in a violent game of tango while you stood there wide-eyed and stuck amidst the chaos sitting in the front seat.

It didn't take long for both vigilantes to notice your presence. All at once, a shout broke out from the red masked punk, “move!” when a broken piece of the wall was thrown right in your direction by the one and only Green Goblin. You saw the white's of Spider-Punk's mask widen.

Move. An inner voice in your head screamed. You couldn't. Move, goddamnit! Nothing. It felt as time had slowed down.

The stone piece inches away from your face, ready to smash your skull in when suddenly a silky white rope connected to your side and pulled you towards it. A hand wrapped around your waist and suddenly, now you're in the air.

Your heart thumped in your ears from the sheer amount of adrenaline and fear coursing through you as the two of you swung out the appliance store.

Your arms were subconsciously wrapped around his neck, your face was buried into the curve where his neck met his shoulder. You peeked your head up to see yourself high up in the air, and a glimpse of blurred green chasing the two of you.

You sucked in a shaky breath, you wondered if he could hear how loud your heart pounded, like it was gonna erupt from your chest anytime soon.

You felt heavy air hitting your back when he abruptly turned a sharp corner and now you're sitting on a dumpster in an alleyway who knows where with a vigilante in front of you checking for any major injuries.

“You alrigh’, love?”

It took you a minute to register his words due to the daze but you finally managed to choke out a “I'm fine,” your voice was slightly breathless but you didn't focus on that right now instead, you focused on the individual in front of you.

You quickly took in his wardrobe. A red spandex bodysuit, spiked mohawk, leather jacket, collar, spikes, nets, guitar, red boots, blue laces— blue laces? well damn…

“Aight, take a breather f'me, lovelie. ‘m gonna go deal w’him, ay? Take care!” He shouted, his voice fading as he ran towards the exit of the alley and swung away before you could manage another response.

…

What the fuck just happened?

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

You slowly recovered from the incident that happened just three days ago. An hour long face call with your parents who had seen you on the news swinging around in the arms of Spider-Punk. You lost count after sixteen of just how many times your parents had asked you if you were okay.

You had paid off the workers to get the job done while you were away, now you could only hope they hadn't robbed you and were currently flying to another state with your money.

You didn't have much left to do from your to-do list. The only thing you needed was some paint and furniture. You had ordered the paint (and paid) online, it would be at the door of your parlor in about a few hours. Or at least that's what the notification you gotten had said.

As you were currently laying in bed clicking away on your computer and chewing on the back of a pencil you randomly found in your backpack and an orange sofa that you found in your fridge, something ringed in your head.

Right!

The concert, you were supposed to look into it when you got home. Unfortunately, it had pretty much slipped your mind due to your little experience about a day ago.

You clicked away, opening a new tab, “Spi…der…si…ca… baa…nnd.” You pronounced each syllable carefully while you typed away.

Pushing down the enter button, you were met by a white loading screen that led you to another google page. You clicked the first link and found yourself on another website.

“A popular punk band in london with the following members: Karl Morningdew, the bass Guitarist, Riri Williams, the keyboardist and Mattea Murdock, the drumist followed by their BandLeader, Hobart Brown, the guitarist—” Your voice slowly faded out as you saw the image of a familiar punk boy pop up that you had gotten lost in just a few days ago outside of your parlor. “Huh.”

You scrolled through the website until your eyes settled onto the information you were looking for, “Spidersica, publicly performing on the 9th of March.” The information was followed by the location and other necessary details.

“Eh, screw it. I gotta socialize anyway,” you blurted out, clicking off the tab.

—

After finishing another can of soda, you finally had gotten ready to go back out after locking yourself in your house for the past forty-eight hours. Patting the pockets of your jeans to make sure you had your phone and keys in them, you escorted yourself through the door of your apartment.

You soon find yourself making your way down the three quarter turn stairs and back on the roads looking up in the sky for a particular rebellious masked vigilante.

You didn't know what for, maybe to thank him. Or maybe just curiosity at its finest. You shrugged the thoughts off and continued making your way to the parlor. You didn't have time for a cat and mouse chase where the mouse doesn't even know he's being chased.

After all, you were no one special. Just a normal everyday civilian whom his job was to protect.

Finally arriving at your parlor, it looked a lot less abandoned than it did when you arrived three days ago, the front door opening with ease when you pushed the keys in and twisted the knob which was also replaced. You could tell due to the shining new gold color coating it.

Polished white marble tiles installed in the once cemented flooring. The crevices in the walls were filled out along with the old cream wallpaper removed. An air conditioner was fixed into the wall above the recessed door, a fixed bulb and working electricity.

Those were some major improvements but that didn't change the fact the place was still filthy as fuck.

You sighed and grabbed a broom that rested in the corner of the closet, pulling your headphones over your head and began sweeping away.

—

After you finished sweeping, you decide to install the new curtains you had bought. They were a dark marengo made of a silky smooth material. As you tried to push the curtains into the metal pole, the bell aloft the door began chiming signifying somebody had arrived, when you turned the door, you were met by a man who stood in a blue-ish uniform, a clipboard in his hand while he tapped the back of a pen on it.

“Uh hello, delivery for Y/N Y/L/N?”

“That would be me.”

“Oh, please just sign here.” He turned the clipboard around to face you, offering you the ballpoint he had.

You walked over, taking the pen from his hand and signed the piece of paper where he had told you to.

He put the clipboard away, taking the pen back from you as he stepped out and came back in with a large box placing it down onto the tile flooring. “G’day, madam.”

He politely bowed his head while you let out a small “thank you” after he tilted his head back up and walked back out the parlor.

You picked up the box that was immensely heavy, probably because of the damn paint cans in them, Sherlock, you had just assumed they most likely were the paints you ordered.

When you turned away, placing the box onto the counter, suddenly the bell chimed once again. You spoke without looking up, “did you forget something, Mr.mailman?”

“Mailman? Hardly.” A familiar angelic voice spoke, making you freeze, Spider-Punk—? You thought as you turned to the voice with wide eyes, but to your surprise. It was someone completely different.

“You good, love? You look like you just seen a ghost.” Honey-coated eyes, ebony complexion, jet-black hair, sharp jawline, is that-?

“Oh my god,” you breathed, “are you Hobart Brown?” your voice was a higher pitch than usual but you couldn't help it. “Oh my god, what are you doing here—” you were abruptly cut off by him.

“Okay okay, I'm gonna cut you off right there, love, first of all. Just call me Hobie. Please.” He chuckled, a small smirk on his face, “and well, second of all, I heard you did piercings, hm?”

“Oh. Uh… okay then, Hobie. Yes. Yeah, I do piercings, why?” Well, that's a stupid question.

“I was wondering if you could do mine, because as you can see, my face is pretty clean.” He smiles softly, pointing to his face that didn't bear any piercings… yet.

“Oh yeah, um. I'm not really open yet—” you cut yourself off at a sudden realization. “Wait, how'd you find me?” You raised an eyebrow, you only remember telling everyone in your circle about the parlor yet.

“Oh, one of my friends told me.”

You raised your eyebrow higher, confusion bubbling in you. “Can I know their name?”

“Yuri.” He shrugged nonchalantly.

Yuri? As in your goddamn BEST FRIEND Yuri?

“Yuri Watanabe?” You asked, expecting a no.

"You know her?"

Of course I know my damn best friend, dumbass! That's what you wanted to say, but instead you held your tongue.

“Well yeah, she's my best friend. We met at a bar back in York.” You didn't know why you were telling him, you didn't even know if you could trust him. After all, he was just a random stranger— sure he was famous or whatever but you still just found out about him like three days ago.

“Huh, I don't think she's mentioned you but nice to meet you, er…?”

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N. Nice to meet you too, Hoba- Hobie.” You quickly corrected your small error.

“Y/N.” He looked like he was trying to remember something from a long time ago. Suddenly his eyes lit up, “oh yeah, she has mentioned you a couple times if I think about it.” He gave you a polite smile, “Do you need help? with whatever you're doing?”

“What?”

“I said do you want help?” He repeated, “seems like you could use some.” He observed, eyes roaming around your unfinished parlor.

“Do… are you looking for something in return?” You were confused by his sudden offer. He had to be wanting something in return, right? I mean, he learned your name like JUST a minute ago.

“Nah, just wanna help you out. Plus, you could prolly use some company, ay?”

“I mean… wait, why would you wanna do that? Aren't you busy with things like… practice or something.”

“Do you want help or not?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Yes.” You answered with a small voice, biting down on your lip gently.

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @the-kr8tor @hobieszeze @missshelleyduvall

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