#dr andrew garner

[cosmicqvake]

I feel like the fact that the show’s own therapist character ended up unwillingly turning into a big ol’ scary monster, losing his mind in the process then proceeding to die really is symbolism for how this show treats its characters and their mental health/trauma in general lmfao.

Not even the goddamn therapist was safe.

#the show really said “no therapy for these bitches“ #“let us even make therapy a touchy subject for them in the near future“ #“no one is safe. break them ALL“ #agents of shield #marvel’s agents of shield #andrew garner #dr andrew garner

[otdiaftg]

Neil finds out Betsy's plan for Andrew.

Abby jumped and flicked a guilty look his way. "Neil, I didn't hear you come in." Neil ignored her and insisted, "Where are you taking him?" "Easthaven Hospital," Betsy said. "I'm going to take Andrew off his medicine." Neil felt the floor tilt beneath his feet. "What?" "It's not official just yet," Betsy said. "I need Mr. Blackwell to sign off on it. He was the prosecuting attorney at Andrew's trial. He's here now with Mr. Waterhouse to evaluate the situation. I strongly doubt he'll contest this, so we should be able to commit Andrew to Easthaven by this afternoon." "Commit him as in lock him up," Neil said. "When Dr. Ellerby and Mr. Waterhouse wrote up the original agreement they did it in a way that would garner the least resistance from the prosecution. One of the terms Andrew agreed to was twenty-four-hour supervision during his rehabilitation. Easthaven is one of the best hospitals in the state. He will be in good hands." "But for how long?" "Up in the air," Wymack said. "Andrew was scheduled for rehab in May so he'd be out of classes. It'll take time to get the drugs out of his system. Once his head's cleared the staff has to figure out the next step in his treatment, whether it's ongoing counseling or some new type of happy pill. Take Andrew's complete inability to cooperate into account and we're looking at maybe four, five weeks." "If we get him back by New Year's it'll be a miracle," Abby said, with a hint of her former frustration. "You're forcing him through withdrawal and recovery at the same time." "It's both or neither," Betsy said. "You know that." "Do it," Neil said when Abby started to argue again. His breathless command had all three of them looking at him, but Neil had eyes only for Betsy. He'd wanted to hurt her in the car for reinforcing the awful rules of Andrew's medicine. She hadn't defended herself because she knew she didn't need to. She knew just like he did how cruel it was to keep Andrew on his drugs, and she'd already reached out to the people who could help him. Betsy's smile was small and approving. "I promise I'll try. Wish us luck?" She plucked a new chocolate bar off the counter and led Wymack and Abby upstairs. Neil didn't really believe in luck, but he watched them go and hoped for it anyway.

Day: Monday, November 13th Time: 9:55 AM EST

#aftg #all for the game #neil josten #trk #the raven king #the foxhole court #andrew minyard #palmetto state university #psu foxes #andreil #on this day in aftg #otdiaftg #palmetto state foxes #otdi all for the game #nora sakavic #the foxes #on this day in all for the game #kevin day #nicky hemmick #aaron minyard #coach wymack #betsy dobson #abby winfield #matt boyd #dan wilds #renee walker #allison reynolds

[therealdisneyfan2319]

One Special Night | Wanda Maximoff

Summary: A blizzard leaves you and a stranger stranded on Thanksgiving

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Male Reader

Warnings: Language, angsty fluff? fluffy angst?, death

Word Count: 6.9K

Masterlist

A/N: This was requested by @joewatt111 on Wattpad.  It’s based on the movie One Special Night starring Julie Andrews and James Garner (it’s one of my favorite Christmas movies!)  

So sorry for the delay in getting requests out.  I’ve been struggling through some writer’s block ever since I finished writing “Can’t Help Falling In Love.”  But I’m working through it and I’m hoping to get caught up before the holidays.  

Thanksgiving, 5:03 PM

“Any plans for Thanksgiving, Doc?”

“Oh you know, the usual,” you replied.  “Get togethers with family you don’t really like, avoiding conversations that’ll spark arguments, and eating too many casseroles of who knows what.”  You didn’t really like Thanksgiving.  It held too many memories you’d rather forget: the years of being shuffled from house to house to spend time with your divorced parents, the subsequent arguments that you’d hear between your drunk father and sobbing mother as you buried your head under the covers in a feeble attempt to drown out the screams, endless holiday dinners ruined by shifts in the emergency room treating deep fryer burn victims, people slicing their hands while attempting to carve a turkey, and sprains, bumps, and bruises from people slipping on ice or grease, and, of course, the one Thanksgiving where your fiance dumped you before the heavy cream could even be whipped.  Needless to say it wasn’t your favorite day of the year.  So instead of subjecting yourself to the horrors of dinner conversation, you volunteered to work the holiday, collect the overtime, and treat yourself to your favorite Chinese takeout and watch whatever football game was on.  Most people didn’t understand your disinterest in the holiday, so you fibbed and said you had plans.  It’s not like anyone would figure it out anyways.

“But that’s the fun isn’t it?  It only comes around once a year,” the tech posed.

You shook your head as you pulled on your coat.  “Yeah, fun.  There are lots of things you can classify as fun.  I’m not sure this is one of them.”  Slamming your locker shut, you grabbed your bag and headed for the door of the locker room.

“I don’t think it’s that bad,” the younger man responded.  “But anyways, get home safe, Doc.  The news was saying that we’re supposed to get one heluva of a storm today.”

“All the more reason to not go out,” you winked.  You pushed the door open and trudged down the hall, backpack slung over one shoulder as you ambled down the corridor and towards the main entrance of the hospital.

“Dr. L/N?” you heard a voice call from behind you as you passed the emergency room’s front desk.  You turned around to see who the voice belonged to and found Janelle, your intern, running towards you.

“Yeah?” you answered, cocking an eyebrow.

“You forgot to sign off on the papers for Mrs. Levin.”  She handed you a clipboard with a pen clipped to it.  You took it from her, scribbled on the appropriate line, and handed it back to her without much thought to what you were doing.  “Thank you, doctor.  And Happy Thanksgiving.”

“Yeah, same,” you responded.  All you could think about after your ten hour shift was your steamed dumplings and lo mein, not some last-minute paperwork.  But as you passed by the desk again something out of the corner of your eye caught your attention.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, right?  What do you mean there’s no tow trucks available?” You saw a fiery redhead who was red in more than just her hair.  She was leaning up against the front desk, yelling into her cellphone, a backpack sitting by her side.  You watched as she rolled her eyes at whatever response she was receiving.  “Well fine, I’ll just call a cab if you-what do you MEAN they aren’t running the cabs?  How the hell am I supposed to get home?”

You eavesdropped on her conversation as you walked by, trying to make sure it wasn’t apparent that you were listening in.“Please, isn’t there something you can do?  I’ve been at the hospital with my father all day and I need to get home.”  You could hear the desperation in her voice as she pleaded with the voice on the other end.  You felt bad for the stranger, but it wasn’t your responsibility to make sure she got home.  You had no obligation whatsoever to be her taxi driver.  But as you neared the door you felt a nagging in the pit of your stomach telling you to do something.

No, don’t get involved, you told yourself.  You don’t want to do this.  But you felt yourself turning around before you got to the front door, your legs carrying yourself over to the frustrated woman who had been placed on hold by the towing company.

“Excuse me,” you interrupted.  She ignored you as she continued to tap her foot impatiently as she waited to be taken off hold.  “Excuse me,” you tried again.  Still nothing.  She looked even more impatient as you attempted to interrupt her again.  “Hey!” you yelled a tad more aggressively than you’d anticipated.  She shot daggers through you as she glared into your soul.

“What?” she snapped, pulling the phone down to her chest.

“Do you want a ride?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Do you want a ride home?  Look, the weather is shitty, it’ll be difficult trying to find a cab, and good luck trying to find an uber on Thanksgiving.  I’ve got a truck with all wheel drive, I can get you back to wherever you need to be.”  You had no idea why you were offering this complete stranger a ride back to wherever she came from.  Maybe it was the spirit of the season warming your heart.  “It’s okay, I’m a doctor here,” you added quickly, flashing your ID.

She looked at you with a combination of relief and apprehension.  You were a complete stranger offering her a ride in the middle of a snowstorm out of the emergency room.  “You’re offering me a ride?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“Wow, okay then,” she said, hanging up her phone and grabbing her backpack.  She followed you down the hallway.  You could see the blizzard raging outside illuminated by the parking lot floodlights.  It was going to be a challenge to drive in these conditions.

“It’s that one,” you said, pointing to the red truck parked down near the end of the lot.  You zipped your coat up a little higher as you struggled across the uncleared sidewalk, grabbing your keys and unlocking the door so the two of you could hop right in.You pulled off your snow covered hat as soon as you sat in the driver’s seat after cleaning off the front of your car.  The redhead was on her phone furiously texting someone.  “Where do you live?” you asked.

“159 Collard Road,” she replied without looking up from her phone.  You groaned to yourself; it was the completely opposite side of town, basically out in the sticks.  It took you twenty minutes to drive out that way in good weather so you knew you were in for a long drive.

“Alright.  Let me know when we’re getting close.”  You started the car and looked over your shoulder as you carefully backed out of your spot.  The radio kicked on, your favorite local Y/F/M station coming on as you turned left out of the parking lot.

“Y/F/M?” she scoffed, shooting you a look.“Is there a problem?” you asked.  You should’ve left her at the hospital.“No, it’s your car, you control the radio.”“And what do you prefer?”  You couldn’t hide the sarcasm oozing from your voice.

“Y/L/F/M.”  You nodded, gripping onto the wheel tightly.  There was no way in hell you were going to change the station for her, so you decided to turn it off.  The two of you sat in silence as you continued to drive.  The roads were absolutely awful.  You were used to driving in nasty weather, but this was particularly bad.  It was night, too, and you were having to drive without using your brights because of the reflection of the snow.  

Halfway there, you thought to yourself.  Just a little while longer and I can go back home.  Why am I even doing this in the first pl-

Your internal musings were interrupted by a patch of black ice.  The truck fishtailed into the oncoming lane as you pumped the brakes.  Hard as you tried to correct the slippage, you ended up overcorrecting and swerving the other way right into a snowbank on the side of the road.

5:48 PM

“What the hell was that?” the redhead shouted.  You threw the truck in reverse and tried to back out of the bank but it was no use: you were stuck.

“Black ice.  We’re stuck.  Damn it!” You slammed on the steering wheel, angry at yourself for getting distracted.  It was not a good situation: you were stranded in a snowbank in the middle of nowhere on Thanksgiving night in a blizzard with a complete stranger who was getting angrier at you by the second.

“Great,” she sighed, pulling out her phone.  “No service.”  She slammed the phone on her bag, visibly frustrated at the situation as well.

You pulled out your phone, hoping you might be able to call your insurance company to come tow you out.  Much to your dismay you didn’t have a signal.  “Damnit,” you whispered.

“I literally just said there’s no service,” she huffed.  

“Alright then, do you have a better idea?  Because that’s all I’ve got.”

“I’m going to go look for help.  There’s a gas station about two miles away from here.”  She pushed the door open into the bank, the wind howling against the door as snow blew inside.  

“Are you kidding?  You’ll freeze to death out there.  It’s pitch black, we are in the middle of nowhere, and you want to go outside?!”  She must be crazy, that’s the only explanation you could think of.  

“And what’s the alternative then, stay here all night?” she snapped back. “Yes!  We stay here, run the heater periodically, and wait until either the snow stops or it’s daylight and then we should be able to either get out of here or get someone to come tow us out!” You were exasperated.  Sure, spending all night cooped up in your truck with this crazy woman wasn’t the way you wanted to spend Thanksgiving, but it was better than becoming a human popsicle on this stretch of country backroad.

“Right, mmhmm, good idea there, doc.  You stay here and do that, I’ll go and look for a way home.”  She jumped down from the truck, sinking into the deep drift.  You watched as she pulled one leg from the drift, trudging her way back to the road.  You groaned, frustrated at the fact this woman was about to wander about in the middle of the night and that you were probably going to have to follow her against your better judgment.

“Hey wait!  Wait a minute!” You unbuckled your seatbelt, sighing as you opened the door.  Wind whipped against your face as snow fell through the air.  It was an absolutely miserable night made worse by your miserable disposition.  The stranger looked back at you.  Her small figure looked even smaller as she hugged her coat against her chest.  The snow was falling hard enough that it was difficult to make her out against her phone’s flashlight.  

“Are you coming?” she shouted.“Only because I’m not going to let you wander around the woods in the middle of the night.”  The wind was rushing against your ears, freezing your words as they left your mouth.

“I don’t need you to protect me if that’s what you’re thinking.”  The look on her face, from what you could see, was one of disgust.

“Oh, I don’t care about protecting you.  I’m only here to-” Before you could get your next thought out you found yourself flat on your face in the snow.  The cold seeped through your clothes and chilled you to the bone.  As you pushed yourself up and sputtered the powder out of your mouth, you heard a slight giggle coming from ahead of you.  You looked up to see the redhead turning away from you.  “Is there something you want to share with the rest of the class?” the sarcasm dripped from your mouth.

“Not at the moment, but I’ll let you know.” Her hidden glance revealed a smirk forming over her lips as she pressed on, not letting you see how amused she was by your current predicament.

Groaning, you attempted to jog through the knee deep drift to keep up with her.  She had made her way over to the side of the road and was walking in what she hoped was the direction of the gas station.  You fought the blizzard every step of the way, trudging through molasses as your eyes strained to follow the dim light.  Your frustration built in your chest, causing one singular thought to race through your mind:

If we make it through this alive, I’m going to kill her.

6:11 PM

“Look, a mailbox!” The flashlight illuminated a snow-covered mailbox a few feet ahead of you.

“Let’s go ask for help.”  The storm had intensified dramatically in the short time the two of you had been walking.  The biting wind nipped at your red hands and ears.  In that time you made a mental note to never leave home without a hat and gloves again.  You scoured the area in front of you for a sign of a driveway, but any indication of one had been blocked by thigh-high drifts.

You watched the redhead struggle to carve a path through the snow only to befall the same fate you had earlier when you left your truck.  As she face-planted into the mound in front of her, you let out a small chuckle.  It was a sight to see: she flapped and struggled her way up like a goose in a most ungraceful fashion.  A part of you thought you should make sure she was okay.  “Are you okay?” you asked as you managed to push yourself over the drift.

“I’m perfectly capable, thank you.”  She flipped her scarf around her neck as she pushed herself to her feet in the ankle deep snow that covered the long driveway.  “I’m sure you are,” you mumbled under your breath.  You followed her straight into the snow-covered woods, spotting what looked to be a small cabin nestled beneath a group of tall pine trees.

“It doesn’t look like anyone’s home,” she said.  

“I’ll go take a look,” you shrugged as you eyed the enclosed porch.

“Wait!”  You turned to see the woman clutching at her chest.  “My necklace!  I have to go back and find it!”

“You can come back after the spring thaw and look for it then.  There’s no way you’ll find it now.”  You couldn’t believe the ignorance of this woman…first getting out of your warm truck and now this.  You turned back, reaching for the rickety screen door.

“It was a gift from my dad.  I have to have it!”  She walked like a goblin, crouching in an unflattering position as she combed the ground for a glimmer of the silver chain.

“Well I’m sure he can buy you another one.  Come on, I’m going inside.”

She stood quickly, tilting her head as she stared at you angrily.  “He’s dying,” she stated matter-of-factly.  You fidgeted in place as she stared at you, eyes boring into your soul as she huffed by.  Her frustration played out as she rattled the knob on the front door, slamming it down in dismay as it refused to open.  “It’s locked.”

Your eyes wandered around the small room, scanning the dark corners for something to break you in.  A pile of bricks caught your attention.  You picked one up, feeling its cold weight in your hand as you turned toward the door.  “Stand back,” you told her, pushing her back with your free arm.

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me.  You’re going to-”

Crash!  The window cracked as glass tinkled to the floor.  You reached in, feeling your way down the door to unlock it and push it open.  “After you,” you bowed mockingly, extending your hand.  She rolled her eyes, pulling off her hat as she stepped inside the dark foyer.

You felt up the wall for a light switch, flicking it on but the room remained dark.  “Power’s out.  Storm must’ve knocked it out.”  A sharp crack and a small flicker of light lit up the table in front of you.  The stranger found a pair of candles on the sole kitchen table.  Her face was illuminated by their dim glow as you watched her emerald eyes take in her new surroundings.

“There’s a fireplace right there.  I think I saw a pile of logs outside the cabin.  Why don’t you go get some and I’ll look for more candles?”  She rubbed her hands together over the small flame.

You managed to find some snow covered cords stacked against the side of the cabin and subsequently slipped on the ice covering the gravel drive.  Rubbing the bruise on your hip, you regathered the logs and cursed the woman inside as you stumbled through the door.  You were hit with an immediate warmth upon entering, the smell of smoke and crackling of fire creating an indelible sense of home.  The redhead was crouched by the fireplace, a metal poker in her hand.  You cocked your head at her quizzically.  “How’d you get that started?”  Grinning smugly she reached to the side to reveal a cabinet loaded with logs.  “A heads up would’ve been nice.”

“What, and deny you the chance to prove your manhood?”

“Touché,” you nodded as you set the wood down.  As you removed your sopping outerwear, you took a moment to take in your new surroundings.  The cabin was small, only one main room.  On one side was a small kitchen complete with an oven, sink, and refrigerator.  A round table sat in the middle of the room, a chair placed on opposite sides.  There was a sofa directly in front of the fireplace.  Two end tables sat on either side, and a coffee table sat directly in front.  There were two doors on either side of the fireplace: one led to the bedroom and the other to the bathroom.  A chill ran down your spine as you blew into your hands.  “Alrighty then, how about I try to find something to eat?  You should go see if they have any clothes for you to borrow, you’re absolutely soaked.  Maybe jump in the shower, too”

“Right, a cold shower and a stranger’s clothes.  That’s the way I want to spend my Thanksgiving,” she rolled her eyes at your remark.

“It’s gas, the water should be hot.”  

“Really?” Her eyes widened at the revelation.

“Mmhmm,” you nodded.  “And if we’re going to be sleeping together tonight, I should probably introduce myself.  I’m Y/N.”

“Wanda,” she replied as she opened the bathroom door.

“Did you ever watch the movie Psycho?” you posed. 

“Yeah.  Why?”

“No reason,” you grinned.  The door slammed shut.

7:20 PM

“Hi,” a quiet voice said.  It was Wanda.  She was wrapped in a fluffy red plaid housecoat, her damp hair hanging limply behind her.  “What’d you find?”

“You’re in luck.  They happened to have half a box of spaghetti and a jar of sauce in the cupboard.”  You weren’t a cook by any stretch of the imagination, but pasta was manageable.  “And there’s a bottle of wine on the table.”

“And you managed to set the table.  I’m impressed,” she joked as she observed your feeble attempt at making the sparse setting look nice.

“I am a man of many talents.”  You carried the pot over to your table, spooning some pasta onto both of your plates as Wanda sat down.  

“Well, it is edible.  Barely,” Wanda informed you as she took a bite.  “Please tell me you have someone else who cooks for you because otherwise this is just sad.”

“I eat out a lot,” you laughed.  “That’s the whole reason I became a doctor…it’s easier than trying to learn how to cook.”

“So you work in the emergency room then?” She took a sip of the red wine she had poured for the two of you.  You nodded, your mouth full of the overcooked spaghetti.

“Yeah.  It’s crazy, but you’re always on your toes.  That’s why I like it.  You’ll never have the same day twice.  There’s always something new, you’re constantly calling on everything you learned in med school, and I like the adrenaline rush.”  She looked at you curiously.  You couldn’t tell what exactly she was thinking or what she wanted to say.  

“I don’t ever want to spend time in an emergency room again.  I don’t know how you can do it day after day.”  Her voice softened as her head dropped down to stare at the pasta she spun on her fork.  

“You were in there with your dad, right?”

She sniffled, rubbing her nose with the sleeve of her housecoat.  “Yeah.  He’s got cancer.  Stage four.  I’ve been taking care of him for the last few weeks.  But today he had a stroke.  So they admitted him and told me that he doesn’t have much time left.  The doctor said she’d be surprised if he made it through tonight.  So I was trying to get home to get him the picture of our family that sits by his bed, but my car wouldn’t start.  I tried to get a tow truck but all of them were busy with the storm.”

You felt your heart sink.  “I’m sorry,” you murmured.  

“I just don’t know what I’m going to do when he goes,” she sighed.  “He’s all I have left.  My mom died ten years ago and my brother was killed in a car accident last spring.  I quit my job and gave up my apartment to move out here to take care of him.  When he’s gone…” Her eyes filled with tears as she trailed off, staring across the room to the window on the other side.  “Sorry,  I don’t even know why I’m telling you any of this.”  She shook her head, immediately redirecting her attention to her dinner.

“No, it’s okay.  It sucks, cancer sucks, and I’m sorry that this is what you’re dealing with right now.  I see it every day and it doesn’t get easier, believe me.”  Images of your worst trauma cases flashed through your mind.  You physically recoiled at the gruesome scenes.  “Look, I promise that once we get out of this mess I will get you back to that hospital as fast as I can so you can be with him, okay?  And I’ll make sure to come up and check in on him, too.”  You reached out to grab her hand.  Her skin was soft and warm.  You felt your heart skip a beat as you grasped it, which surprised you.  A soft smile spread over her face as she felt your hand in hers.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

10:43 PM

“And that is check, I believe,” Wanda boasted as her rook took your knight.

“Again?!  Are you kidding me?  What the hell, Wanda?”  You threw your hands in the air.  This was the fourth game she was beating you at.  You weren’t a chess champion by any means but Wanda was on a completely different level.

“It’s just check, Y/N.  You can still win,” she giggled.  

“Yeah, right.  Why don’t I just hand the game to you now and we’ll call it a night?” 

“Oh you’re no fun,” she pouted, putting away the pieces.  After dinner, she had found the cabinet where the owners hid their collection of board games.  The two of you had finally settled on chess.  It was one of her favorite games.  Her father had taught it to her and her brother, who you learned was named Pietro, when they were kids.  She had played on the chess team in high school, which you thought made her a bigger nerd than you and your middle school quiz bowl team.

“I know, I’m a party pooper.”  You stood up and yawned, stretching your stiff limbs.  “I don’t know about you but I’m ready for bed.  You go take the bedroom, I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“No, I’ll take the couch, it’s okay.”

“Wanda, I’m a doctor.  I’ve slept on countless gurneys and on-call beds before.  I’m used to it.  Take the bed.”  She didn’t move, curling herself into a tighter ball where she sat instead.

“Fine.  Give me a minute.  I’m just resting my eyes,” she mumbled.  She shut her eyes as she crossed her arms and snuggled into the back of the couch.  You chuckled, pulling the blanket off your lap and placing it over her.  As she drifted off to sleep her light snores echoed through the small room.  You positioned yourself on the other side of the couch, watching as her breathing slowed and her face relaxed.  Hopefully sleep would be kind to her, relieving her of the horrible reality she would face in the waking world.

Friday, 7:03 AM

You woke to the peculiar sensation of being squeezed.  Looking down, you noticed that Wanda had made her way to your side of the couch and had wrapped her arms around your chest, resting her head in the crook of your shoulder.  The sight startled you at first, but you quickly found it endearing.  You were holding her with one arm wrapped around her.  Your other hand was running your fingers through her soft red hair, teasing each strand as you traversed its length.  Her eyes fluttered open at the tickling sensation, which quickly turned into a look of horror.

“Oh god I’m sorry.”  She recoiled as soon as she released the compromising position she was in.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind,” you reassured.  The truth was you really hadn’t minded it.  You liked the feeling of comfort her body provided as it wrapped around yours.  

She sat back on her knees, looking out the window.  “Looks like the storm stopped,” she noted as the sun streaked through the window.

“I’ll try calling a tow truck again, see if they can get us out of here.”

An hour later the two of you were in the cab of a tow truck headed back into town.  You’d left a note and some money for the owners to explain why you broke into their apartment and ate their food.  Once you got your truck back, you dropped Wanda off at the hospital before driving back to your apartment to grab a quick shower before heading back for your own shift.  While holidays were normally busy in the ER, you were hoping that today might be relatively quiet.  It wasn’t so much about not having to rush from bay to bay dealing with patients as much as it was being able to slip away to check on Wanda and her father.  Your palms began to sweat as you gripped the steering wheel, pulse quickening at the thought of seeing Wanda later in the day.  You shook your head to clear the images of the redhead from your mind.  After all, you were only concerned about how her father was doing, right?    

6:22 PM

You collapsed onto a gurney in the trauma bay, groaning as you rubbed your throbbing temples.  All you wanted was a beer and the chance to rip your shoes off.  You hadn’t stopped moving since you stepped foot in the hospital almost ten hours ago, even forgoing your lunch to help the ortho attending reset an elderly lady’s dislocated hip.  It was also the first time all day you’d allowed your mind to wander back onto the woman who was in the forefront of your mind.  Glancing at your phone, you panicked slightly as you jumped off the gurney and raced to the elevator.  Your heart was pounding with anticipation as you pushed the down arrow.  You bounced your knee up and down in the agonizing moments it took for the elevator to pull up to your floor.  When the doors opened you rushed in and pressed the button for the ICU.

“Come on, come on,” you muttered, slamming the button as fast as you could.  The doors didn’t close quick enough for your liking, and you spent the entire ride pacing around.  You were on a tear down the hall as soon as the doors opened, vaguely remembering a conversation you and Wanda had earlier in the day about the room her father was in.  You mumbled numbers to yourself as you jogged down the hall until you found the right one a few yards ahead of you.  Slowing down to a walk, you tugged on the lapels of your white coat and attempted to smooth out your scrubs before you turned into the room.

It was empty.

Your heart sank as you realized what it meant: he was gone and Wanda was all alone.  The cold emptiness of the room enveloped you, creeping into your very soul as an overwhelming sense of sorrow invaded your heart.  You felt a lump in your throat as you thought of her alone, trying to pick up the pieces of her life.  You threw your hands in your pocket, shuffling out of the room as you wondered how helpless she must feel.  All you wanted to do was find her and hold her until she realized that you weren’t going to let her world end.  But you had no idea where she even was.  Besides, why would she want to see you at the worst moment of her life?

Sunday, 11:19 AM

Taking a bite out of your bagel, you thumbed through the pages of the local Sunday Times.  You scoured the headlines for the one you were looking for: obituaries.  It had already been two days since Wanda’s father had passed, more than enough time to write a simple summary of his life.  More than once you’d wondered whether or not you should drive to her father’s house to check in on her, but your nerves got the better of you.  As you sipped your coffee, your eyes settled on the word you’d been looking for: Wanda.  You quickly skimmed the obit, looking for the information you wanted.

There will be no services as per the deceased’s wishes.

You sighed, throwing the paper down.  The funeral would’ve been the perfect excuse for you to check in on her.  Your stomach churned with  feeling that you should’ve been there for her that day.  You paced around the room furiously, mind racing a thousand miles a minute with different ideas, excuses to see her and make sure she was okay.  But the more you thought about it, the more you realized that the only real option you had was to go and see her.

2:49 PM

Carrying a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a bag of Chinese takeout in the other, you shifted your weight from one foot to the other as you stood outside the front door.  The way your stomach twisted up in knots surprised you.  You could stay completely calm in the most stressful of work situations, but the thought of facing her again made you want to run away screaming.  The deep breaths you took did little to quell the churning feeling growing inside you as you raised a shaky hand to knock on the frosted window.

The moments between you rapping on the door and Wanda answering felt like eternity.  Time came to a screeching halt as your mind raced through different what if scenarios.  The bag started to slip from your grasp as your palms moistened with anticipation.  It was far too late to turn around by now.

The door opened slightly at first, a single eye peering out from the crack.  You gave a halfhearted smile as you saw the outline of Wanda’s face in the dark room.  Her eye widened as she realized it was you, opening the door fully as she stared at you in amazement.

“Y/N?” she asked incredulously.  In a moment her world turned upside down again.  A small part of her hoped that you would show up at the hospital before her father died and she was hurt when you hadn’t.  

“Hey,” you said weakly.  When she opened the door fully you saw how much of a mess she was.  Her eyes were sunken and hollow, highlighted by deep bags.  Her hair was falling out of a messy bun on top of her head.  She wore pajama pants and an oversized hoodie, both of them wrinkled by hours spent curled on the couch.  “I, umm…can I come in?”  She nodded as she stepped back to give you space to come in.

Wanda shut the door behind you as you stepped in, slipping off your sneakers and placing them off to the side.  The house was chaotic.  Boxes and garbage bags were piled all around, the remnants of a life complete tossed carelessly inside.  Unopened cards were scattered around the table between drying bouquets of flowers.  Dirty pots and plates were stacked high in the sink while a half-empty pizza box sat on the counter.  

“What are you doing here?” Her meek voice broke your train of thought.  The redhead stood before you, looking like a shell of the woman she was three days ago.

“Well, for starters I brought Chinese food to make up for that pitiful Thanksgiving dinner I made the other night,” you stated while holding up the bag.  “Orange chicken, steamed dumplings, and veggie fried rice.”  Wanda stared at the bag.  You couldn’t read the vacant expression on her face that made her very soul look hollow.  “And I wanted to express my condolences about your father.” 

A spark brightened her eyes as you handed her the flowers.  She grabbed them from your outstretched hands, holding them tenderly and examining them carefully as if she’d never seen something so beautiful before.  She inhaled deeply, basking in their sweet scent as she pulled them to her chest.  “Thank you,” she murmured.  She didn’t make eye contact with you as she spoke.  

“Do you want to eat?” She nodded.  “I’ll go grab some bowls.”

“No it’s okay.  I’ve got it.  Why don’t you go sit in the living room?”  

You wandered your way through the darkened house, the living room illuminated by the glow of the TV.  You cleared some papers from the couch, stacking them off on the coffee table as Wanda rejoined you with two bowls and two sodas.  The two of you sat in silence as you watched her scoop some rice into her bowl with her chopsticks.  Her eyes were glued to the television as you ate.  You sensed she wanted to avoid conversation as the energy of the room shifted.  She became cold and withdrawn, oblivious to the world outside of the flickering screen.  But you didn’t want to interrupt her.  If she wanted to drown her grief in old sitcom reruns then so be it.

You watched The Dick Van Dyke Show for a couple hours, her occasionally chuckles interrupting the program.  As much as you wanted to talk you didn’t mind just existing in the same room as her.  It was comfortable and familiar.  But after five or so episodes, Wanda was the one to break the silence.

“I hoped you’d come up to see him before he died.”

You sat in stunned silence, unsure of how to respond to her confession.  Friday night was still eating away at you, the fact you hadn’t been able to make it up to the ICU in time.

“I tried to.  I saw patients for over ten hours straight that day and I didn’t have the chance to sneak away all day”  It felt like a pathetic excuse, but it was the truth.  

“I understand.”  She turned her head away from you slightly.  It did nothing to hide her sniffles as she started to cry again.

“But the first chance I had I ran up there as fast as I could.  He was already gone by then.”

Wanda turned back to you, her face streaked with fresh tears.  “I waited all day for you, you know?  I kept hoping and praying that maybe, just maybe, you’d show up.  It was stupid of me to think this random guy I just met would show up for my dying dad.  Because you didn’t show up so now on top of being sad that my dad just died I’m upset that a complete stranger wasn’t there, too.”  She wiped her face with her sleeve as she choked out her words through strangled sobs.

“Oh Wanda,” you sighed.  “Come here.”  You opened your arms and reached out for her.  She crawled into your chest as you pulled her close, her chest heaving as she sobbed into your shirt.  You wrapped your arms tightly around her.  Her cries were muffled against your body.  You traced your fingers up and down her back as you held her, rocking ever so slightly back and forth in an attempt to soothe her.  All you wanted to do was take her pain away.  It was odd how much you found yourself caring for this stranger.  In that moment she was the most important thing in your life. That terrified you.  “I’ve got you,” you soothed, drawing your hand up her back and pulling her head closer to her chest, as if your enveloping touch would heal her wounds.

“I miss him so much,” she gasped between sobs.  

“I know.”  

“They’re all gone.  My entire family is gone and I don’t know what to do,” she sniffled.  She was living her own worst nightmare, completely alone for the rest of her life.  No parents to bring a boyfriend home to, no brother to help take care of aging parents, no core group to celebrate the small things with.  She had friends, of course, but that didn’t erase the trauma of losing one’s entire family at such a young age.

You wracked your brain trying to find the right thing to say.  Wanda was deep in the throes of grief and you wanted to help steady her.  But what could you say?  You’d never lost a parent before.  “Wanda I- '' You swallowed the lump in your throat, leaning your head down to rest next to hers.  The world stood still as your heart pounded in your ears.  “You’re not alone,” you whispered in her ear.

She pulled away from you, her bloodshot eyes widening as she studied your face.  They darted back and forth searching for anything that might reveal the hidden secret of your words.  

“The truth is I don’t want to leave,” you sighed.  “I can’t stop thinking about Friday and I’m so, so sorry I wasn’t there for you.  I wanted to come see you sooner, but I didn’t think you’d want to see me.”

“Why would you think I wouldn’t want to see you?”  She grabbed your face and pulled you in until your lips were millimeters apart.

“I don’t know.  I guess I kept trying to tell myself that you didn’t want to see me so I could convince myself that I didn’t want to see you,” you admitted.  It was hard to swallow your pride in front of her, but you couldn’t deny how she’d absolutely captivated you in the short time you’d known each other.  “I’m sorry, Wanda.  I should’ve been there sooner.”

No sooner had the words left your mouth did Wanda close the gap between the two of you.  The tender brush of her lips against yours was absolute bliss.  They were soft as you kissed her back, losing yourself in the remnants of her cherry chapstick.  You felt your heart pounding as her hands started to tangle in your hair, causing you to smile against her lips.  You felt her smile back when you hugged her closer to you.

She was the one to break away from the kiss first.  You watched as her face lit up for the first time all day.  All of her worries had seemingly melted away.  “And here I was thinking that what happened between us was just one special night,” she smiled.  It made your heart skip a beat.

“As much as I enjoyed it, Wanda, I could do without the whole getting stranded in a blizzard thing again,” you joked.  Wanda giggled as she rubbed the back of your neck, her touch sending shivers up your spine.

“Why don’t you stay tonight so we can try again?” she teased.“Are you sure?”  You brushed your thumb over her chin as you looked at her with concern.

“Please.  Stay with me.”

You sighed as you looked into her eyes.  They were pleading with you to stay.  Your brain was telling you that staying might not be the best idea, but your heart wouldn’t let you leave.  You had to stay with her: there was no other option.  So you wrapped her close again, pulling her close enough that she could feel the way she made your heart pound against the confines of your chest.  “Okay, I’ll stay,” you murmured against her head, giving her a quick peck as the two of you sat on the couch.  “We’ll get you through this, I promise.”  

#wanda maximoff #scarlet witch #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff fic #scarlet witch fic #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #scarlet witch x reader #wanda maximoff x male reader #wanda x male reader #scarlet witch x male reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #x male reader #male reader #male reader insert #marvel #mcu #marvel fanfiction #request #therealdisneyfan2319

[golden-web]

(Ooc: sorry this is all confusing but we’re going Dr. Simmons POV now so bare with me)

I look at the screen showing Finley’s brain data. They’re asleep now, thankfully they accepted some sedatives tonight to rest. I rub my eyes and plop my head on the table.

“Hey jemma,” Fitz says as he walks into the lab. “I brought you a sand which. Well us sandwiches.” He sits down next to me. “Have you called their dad?”

“No, I probably should.” I stand up and reach for my phone. I scroll through till his number pops up. Before the phone can even ring once Mr. Fitzgerald picks up.

“How are they?” He asks shakily.

“They’re asleep right now. We… we’re not really sure what happened yet. We are having Mr. Barnes come in tomorrow to see if anything is happening in his brain.”

“He said that, do you think it’s something to do with hydra?” He says.

“We don’t really know. We have called Shuri cron Wakanda who helped both of them and she has been looking over the little we know. We hope note. Your child is safe right now though. How are you sir?”

“I’m okay,” his words say that but his voice says everything. “Bucky went back to his apartment but came back saying neither of us should be alone.”

“How is Mr. Barnes?”

“Oh, his arm is okay, and the… the cuts weren’t bad.” He seems to choke slightly at this. “I’ve never seen her do anything like that.

“Is that Mr. Fitzgerald?” Dr. Garner asks as he sweeps into the lab. I nod quietly. “Can I have the phone?”

“Sir, I’m going to give the phone to Dr. Garner now, alright?” I hear a whimper on the other side and hand it to him. They seem to talk for a while as my and Fitz sit in silence eating our sandwiches. After a while Dr. Garner comes back over and hand me my phone.

“He’s such a good father.” Dr. Garner sighs and sits down.

“Why do think Finley isn’t a good kid?” I say a tad too harsh.

“Well no, it’s just—”

“I’m not trying to place blame Andrew, but it seems a bit like you and Finely don’t always get along. That you’ve done some things.” I’ve never been so short with him before. His lips purse into a line.

“Are you saying this is my fault?”

“Well no…” I shake my head. “I’m sorry sir, I’m tired. But you don’t always seem to be doing the best for them.” He sighs at this.

“I’ll be honest. I know how to help adult soldiers. Finleys a child who was forced to play soldier. There’s a lot of foreign territory. I’ve never dealt with teens.”

“Do you not like finely?” Fitz says through a full mouth.

“I’m quite found of them, really. I just wish I could help more. Most adults seem so much more willing of help than they do. It’s frustrating. They don’t always want to listen to authority.”

“That’s most teens,” I say. But I understand. Finley is difficult sometimes. “I’m sorry sir. We need to work together. Because regardless, somethings not right with them.”

#golden-web #spidersona #itsv #spiderman into the spiderverse #into the spiderverse #spiderverse #dr garner #fitzsimmons #leo fitz #jemma simmons

[skyler10fic]

Reveal - Ch. 5: Demo

Summary: Jemma and Fitz find out their conference is even more exciting than what they thought it was going to be—and they find their career focus within Shield.

Read on Ao3 | Ch. 4

Jemma and Fitz wandered the crowded halls of the conference center in awe. It was certainly full of academics and scientists, as expected, but also interspersed in the crowd were unusual people wearing, well, costumes, for lack of a better term. Jemma cringed and corrected herself. Uniforms. They were at work, just like the rest of them. But it was hard to ignore the ones who wore masks to conceal their identities, tight-fitting bulletproof bright colors or had physical differences like tails and cat’s eyes and gills. She tried not to stare disrespectfully and chided Fitz for gaping.  

“Oh, come on, Jemma, it’s a fishman!” Fitz whispered excitedly. “He can breathe air and water, just think of the complex anatomical systems to make that even possible!”

“Of course I’ve thought of it. He may not be human, but he’s still a person and we shouldn’t look at him like he’s a circus act.” Jemma steered them toward the registration table to pick up their name badges and swag bags. “What are all these people doing at an artificial intelligence conference anyway?” 

The first familiar face they spotted was Dr. Andrew Garner at the registration table. 

“Ah, there’s our youngest presenters,” he greeted them. “Fitz, Simmons, I hope you’ll forgive your ol’ professors for not being entirely transparent about the nature of the conference, but I think you’ll understand our reasons. These tablets are geolocked. They will display all you need to know about schedules, maps, and so on within the boundaries of the event area, and they clear themselves when you leave. If you’ll sign this, it just says we trust you’ll honor the confidentiality here, even from other cadets in the Program.” He looked up from the tablets to read their expressions at this last bit. 

“Naturally!” Jemma squeaked. Fitz shuffled his laptop bag to the side and signed the tablet, which lit up with a greeting screen and his name. The real title of the conference was revealed: International Shield Forum on Assistive Biotechnology for Enhanced Individuals, ISFABEI for short. Jemma nearly snorted at the long acronym. Highly on-brand for Shield, after all. 

“We call it Is-Fabbie, or just Is-Fab.” Dr. Garner explained with a knowing smile. “You’ll get used to the jargon, and the, uh, interesting colleagues.” 

Jemma suddenly understood—not just why their paper was accepted and they’d been asked to present it here, but their role in all of it. Their place in the Secret Warriors, in Shield, in history. She grabbed Fitz’s arm and thanked Dr. Garner before pulling her boyfriend away from the crowd. 

“This is it.” Her smile grew as the sense of calling swept over her. “This is our future, Fitz. I can feel it. Our work can help these people.”

Fitz caught on but replied more somberly. “And their work is to save the world from impossible things.”  

Jemma raised her chin confidently at the challenge. “Then that’s what we’ll help them do.” 

They surveyed the conference area again, observing all the various powered people among the scientists. This time, though, they saw possibility. As someone with fire powers demonstrated on a small stage, FitzSimmons whispered about flame retardant uniforms. Another with wings walked by, and they brainstormed ideas for improved tech for flight goggles. 

They networked with other scientific agents throughout the afternoon, of course, and learned everything they could, but it was the specific needs of those with powers who entranced them. They stayed up late into the night at the hotel bar and grill, not drinking but peppering the Shield scientists already doing the work with as many questions as they could get answers to. Most of their questions received the standard “that’s classified” answer first, but the kindest agents were willing to say what they could and led the teen geniuses to their own conclusions where they couldn’t provide direct answers. 

More than once, FitzSimmons solved problems the Shield scientists had hardly even admitted to having. This made an impression, and by the end of the night, they had collected the business cards of department heads throughout the international organization for internships the following summer. 

They made one thing clear though: “We’re a team,” Fitz said, pointing to Jemma and then to himself, “Biochem and engineering.” 

“Package deal,” Jemma agreed, trying not to yawn. They were situated snuggly on a couch in the hotel lounge where they had become the center of a riveting conversation on improving dendrotoxin delivery. But as interesting as it was, it was well past midnight and they’d need to be up early for breakfast before the first session began. Fitz leaned in and asked discreetly if it was time for them to head to bed. She smiled gratefully and nodded in response, stifling another yawn. They stood and waved goodbyes to the tipsy scientists around them.

“Goodnight, everyone,” Jemma said, taking Fitz’s hand. “It’s been a lovely evening.”

They stayed quiet for the elevator ride to their rooms, with Fitz’s arm around Jemma to steady her. But as he was swiping the key to enter his room, Jemma stopped him. 

“You know, if you want to, you could stay with me. Not to… I mean, just to sleep.” Jemma fumbled out. 

“Oh!” Fitz blinked in surprise. 

“You don’t have to, just, if it were something you wondered…” Jemma blushed and turned to her still-closed door. 

“Yeah, I’d like that.” When Jemma turned toward him, his gaze was so soft, she wanted to kiss him right then, but that would send too many mixed signals about her invitation. 

“Maybe 15 minutes?” she offered, allowing time for them to get ready for bed separately. She pulled out the extra keycard the hotel had included at check-in that seemed extraneous at the time but was rather useful now. 

He took the key as if it were a gift and swallowed hard. “Right, yes, I’ll be right in. But not too soon, 15 minutes.” He looked at his watch and she smiled adoringly before swiping her keycard and disappearing inside.

When he slipped in, 15 minutes later as promised, she was already in bed with only the table lamp on. 

“Saved you a spot,” she welcomed. He climbed in bed next to her, and she turned out the light. He barely had time to hold her close and kiss her forehead before she was sound asleep, safe and content in his arms. 

#skywriting #fitzsimmons #daisy johnson #carol danvers #phil coulson #melinda may #philinda #philindaisy #daisy x carol #carol x daisy #aos #agents of shield #aos au #agents of shield au #slow burn #mutual pining #college au #shield academy #university au #marvel #adventure

[2024idpgroup14]

Research into Immersive Experiences

Blog Post #3 ( Sherlock: The Official Live Game )

Sai Pratyaksh Epari (MA Game Art and Design)

What is Sherlock Holmes?

A contemporary retelling of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's detective novels, "Sherlock Holmes" on the BBC stars Benedict Cumberbatch as Sherlock Holmes and Martin Freeman as Dr. John Watson. The show, which is set in modern-day London, centres on the intrepid but eccentric detective Holmes and his devoted partner Watson as they use cunning and deductive reasoning to solve intricate crimes. BBC's "Sherlock" has captivated audiences worldwide with its clever writing, dynamic characters, and captivating mysteries, garnering critical acclaim and a devoted fan base. The show is a must-watch for lovers of crime dramas and classic literature alike because of its contemporary interpretation of the legendary detective, which gives new life to the timeless stories of Sherlock Holmes.

Sherlock: The Official Live Game lets you play detective! Discover a series of clues, puzzles, and codes that must be cracked as you play this immersive escape game from the creators of the popular BBC TV series. assemble your most prestigious team of adventurous friends to locate crucial evidence and unravel the mystery. Explore the show's recognizable sets with a lot of assistance from the cast, which includes Martin Freeman, Andrew Scott, and Benedict Cumberbatch. You should not miss this!

References:

Sherlock (no date). https://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episodes/b018ttws/sherlock.

West End Theatre (2023) Sherlock The Official Live Game - trailer. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N49N742nYCE.

#Youtube

[mirandamckenni1]

Cringey Christian Clickbait: "Autism Cured by God" Today we're looking at one of the worst channels I've ever come across, a super cringe Christian channel which ticks every 'controversial' clickbait topic, from transphobia to 'curing' autism with God. Join this channel to get stompid emmotes (see what I did there) https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCBP1symGPqYIqi86gaXiX-Q/join Captions by David Glennon: [email protected] Like and subscribe if you enjoyed! Website: https://ift.tt/xo9XirZ Emma Thorne Extra: https://www.youtube.com/@EmmaThorneBackstage Gaming Channel: https://www.youtube.com/LittleDuckGaming Twitch: https://ift.tt/GiZS7UK Instagram: @emmainashes Twitter: @EmmaTheGoblin Patreon: https://ift.tt/Qq6yh5R Merch: https://emma-thorne.com Ko-Fi: https://ift.tt/X8O4iKk PO BOX: Emma Thorne PO Box 78387 LONDON E4 0HY Timecodes: 00:00 Start 01:37 On "Cringe" 05:02 Kaden Pody's Channel 08:40 "Autism set free" Video 18:30 MrBeast Video Huge thank you to my Colossal Quackers and Giant Chickens on Patreon! Alex Aspen Bill Garrett Chad Stewart Chaotic Quakka Childfree Matto Chocolate Jesus Douglas Steingraber 2 Fat Houdini HiMyNameIsSpoon Jaderian Jason Haase Jeremy Buck John newman Kori Gailliot Lord Nibbles Dankworth IX Marissa Arciero Mike Nick Muggio Philip Doherty Robi Groves Samandme59 Sean Hamill supremepotato 471 Vermont1777 A very confused looking badger Aaron Reece Aaron Speer Abigail Hess Alexander C Fairbanks Alltag Amber Ambo aka Fearless Ambassador Andrew Andy is ducking around April Washburn Asinga Skeladale Azku Baked Bads Ben Eiynk Bert Whitehead Bike Murns Brandon Brian B Brian McKemey Broos Nemanic Buddmeister2.0 C Cackles Catherine the Great Ceilidh Chantale Charlie edwins ChickFilADeathFries(John) Chris Davies Chris Simpson cmd Connie Wright Connla "Chicken Maximus" Lyons Cory Garner Danny Danny Van Hecke Darren McHaffie Darth_Rondoudou DasMonitor Dave Kircher Dave Smith David Daylin denny5252 Dr. Mint Dreffed Dylan Sweetland Eamonn Sheridan Ephemeral Entropy Buffer FalcorTheGinger Farron Sutton Faye The Succubus Flash -prez- Bluewolf Flirty Imp Franciszek Stefanek Fulcrum GamingRidge gay of reckoning Geeeee (NOT FOR VIDEOS) George Bush gm gm GrayV Greymond Henry Curtis I climbed the rope ladder to face dictator of the world JadedJabberwocky James Crick James Eastwood Jan Bojarp Jason Metcalf Jason Runcie jedidragonwarriorqueen jghfghjhgy Jilly Gee Jim Lathrop Jo Ro John Fry Justin Rogers Kent Woodward Kevin Levites Kiwi Satan Kristjan Wager LadyKeira Laker Sparks Laughing Sisyphus Lizzy Gayle Lucie Lamprell Lulidine Lynn Dobbs Lynn Shackelford Manny Roman Mark Threlfall Matthew Goderre Matthew Green Mattus McChicken Nuggetus MilesTeg (aka Jim Bennett) Militant Agnostic miss_bunburyist Mogarringa Mordlex 200 Mr Cya Mr Smeeth Mr. Creosote Nerd Fiction Niamh Coghlan Nick Ellis NINJARED Nixie Noisy Blue NotMyselfThisTime Novaria Lebedev Nullunit ohsosmooth Paul McGinty paul mueller PaulM Payne309 Peter Kyrouac pewmewnoire pewmewnoire PlatypusBear Plux Quique León RacingPig razbitom Red Ochsenbein Repti-Verse Richard Jackson RileyTheTortoise Rosyna Keller RPGMP3 Rudy Bee samsbro1952 . samsbro1952 . Sarah Chavis Sean Siliconself Silly Kristy Silly Kristy SIRIUSLY SuperSquidHunk taisau Tank Lowe Tax Man That person The Shropshire Lad ThmsR Thomas V Lohmeier Tracey O'Raw Valyrie Ville Paanasalo VinceWasSu Wasatch Witch WeirdyBeardy Will Crouch William Witt Willow the Wendigo Zuhl via YouTube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z9GOeAgdGoI

#IFTTT #YouTube #Youtube

[astinglh-f]

Sherlock Holmes

Sherlock Holmes, the iconic detective created by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, has left an indelible mark on literature and popular culture. With his remarkable deductive abilities, keen observations, and somewhat eccentric personality, Holmes is a character beloved by readers worldwide. He made his debut in the 1887 novel "A Study in Scarlet" and quickly became the quintessential detective figure of the Victorian era.

Over the years, Sherlock Holmes has been brought to life in numerous TV and film adaptations, each offering a unique interpretation of the character. In the early 20th century, actors like Basil Rathbone and Jeremy Brett portrayed Holmes in films and television series that stayed faithful to the original Victorian setting and storylines. These adaptations helped solidify the enduring appeal of Holmes as a detective of unparalleled intellect.

In the modern era, the character has seen a resurgence in popularity with adaptations like the BBC series "Sherlock," starring Benedict Cumberbatch as Holmes and Martin Freeman as Dr. John Watson. This series transplants Holmes and Watson into contemporary London, exploring how their deductive skills are applied to solving crimes in the digital age. This fresh take on the character has garnered critical acclaim and a new generation of fans.

Sherlock Holmes also has a well known, arch-nemesis, Professor James Moriarty. Moriarty, a criminal mastermind introduced in "The Final Problem," is portrayed as Holmes's intellectual equal. Their encounters often involve high-stakes conflicts and intellectual duels, making Moriarty an equally iconic character in the Holmes canon. Various actors, including Andrew Scott, have brought Moriarty to life in different adaptations, adding to the enduring fascination with Holmes and his world of mysteries and intrigue.

[kaelaklein8]

Cinematic Memories

Movie Chronicles-Movies I watched @ Ages

3-4:

Finding Nemo

Madeline

Stuart Little

Land Before Time

101 Dalmatians

10-13:

Greece

Aqua Marine

Secretariat

Spy Kids

Beethoven

14-17:

Interstellar

Ice Princess

Big Hero 6

The Adventures of Sharkboy and Lavagirl

Wolf of Wallstreet

19-25:

El Camino

Where The Crawdads Sing

Avatar

The Wrong Missy

The Kissing Booth

"Finding Nemo" is a beloved animated film that was released in the year 2003. Directed by Andrew Stanton, the movie became an instant classic in the world of animation. Andrew Stanton, known for his work with Pixar, brought his creative vision to life in this heartwarming underwater adventure.

The screenplay for "Finding Nemo" was written by Andrew Stanton himself, along with Bob Peterson and David Reynolds. Their collaboration resulted in a story that touched the hearts of both children and adults alike. The film's narrative revolves around Marlin, a clownfish voiced by Albert Brooks, who embarks on a journey across the vast ocean to find his lost son, Nemo, voiced by Alexander Gould. Along the way, they encounter a host of memorable characters, including Dory, a forgetful but endearing blue tang fish, brilliantly voiced by Ellen DeGeneres.

"Finding Nemo" made a significant splash at the box office, grossing over $940 million worldwide, making it one of the highest-grossing animated films of its time. Its critical acclaim, endearing characters, and heartwarming storyline contributed to its immense success, solidifying its place in the pantheon of animated classics. The film's impact extended beyond the box office, inspiring a generation of ocean enthusiasts and raising awareness about marine conservation.

"Secretariat" is a biographical sports drama film that was released in 2010. Directed by Randall Wallace, the movie tells the inspiring true story of the legendary racehorse Secretariat and his owner, Penny Chenery. Randall Wallace, known for his work on films like "Braveheart," brought this remarkable tale of determination and horse racing to the big screen.

The screenplay for "Secretariat" was written by Mike Rich, known for his work on other sports-themed films like "The Rookie" and "Miracle." The film stars Diane Lane as Penny Chenery, who inherits her father's struggling horse farm and goes on to raise and train Secretariat, one of the greatest racehorses in history. John Malkovich also plays a pivotal role as Lucien Laurin, the horse's eccentric and skilled trainer.

At the box office, "Secretariat" performed admirably, grossing approximately $60 million in the United States and Canada and around $37 million internationally, for a total worldwide box office of about $97 million. While it may not have been a massive blockbuster, the film resonated with audiences who were drawn to its powerful story of determination, family, and the incredible journey of Secretariat, who won the Triple Crown in 1973 and became a symbol of excellence in horse racing.

"Interstellar" is a visually stunning and thought-provoking science fiction film released in 2014. The movie was directed by Christopher Nolan, renowned for his work on mind-bending films such as "Inception" and "The Dark Knight Trilogy." With "Interstellar," Nolan delved into the realms of space exploration, time dilation, and the human spirit's indomitable drive to survive.

The screenplay for "Interstellar" was penned by Jonathan Nolan and Christopher Nolan. The film features an impressive ensemble cast, including Matthew McConaughey as Joseph Cooper, Anne Hathaway as Dr. Amelia Brand, Jessica Chastain as Murph, and Michael Caine as Professor John Brand. The supporting cast includes talented actors like Casey Affleck, John Lithgow, and Matt Damon, among others.

"Interstellar" garnered critical acclaim and achieved considerable box office success. It grossed over $677 million worldwide, making it one of the top-grossing films of 2014. The film's gripping narrative, stunning visual effects, and exploration of complex scientific concepts, such as the theory of relativity and the potential for interstellar travel, captivated audiences and sparked discussions about the nature of space, time, and the human condition. "Interstellar" remains a notable entry in the science fiction genre, appreciated for its ambition and intellectual depth.

"The Kissing Booth" is a romantic comedy film that was released in 2018. Directed by Vince Marcello, the movie is based on a novel of the same name by Beth Reekles. Vince Marcello, known for his work in teen-oriented films, brought the story of teenage romance and friendship to life on the screen.

The screenplay for "The Kissing Booth" was adapted by Vince Marcello himself, along with Jay Arnold. The film stars Joey King as the protagonist, Elle Evans, and Joel Courtney as her best friend, Lee Flynn. Jacob Elordi plays the role of Noah Flynn, Lee's older brother and Elle's love interest. The film also features Molly Ringwald as Lee and Noah's mother.

"The Kissing Booth" gained popularity on Netflix and became a sensation among teenagers and young adults. While it didn't have a traditional theatrical release, its online success and widespread viewership made it a noteworthy entry in the romantic comedy genre. As for box office figures, specific numbers are not available as it was primarily distributed through the Netflix streaming platform, but it undoubtedly reached a broad audience and contributed to the platform's growing influence in the world of film and entertainment.

Movies have an extraordinary power to transport us into different worlds, evoke emotions, and impact our lives. Yet, the significance of films often extends far beyond the screen. Through conversations with some of my friends and my twin sister, I embarked on a journey to explore the invisible threads that connect us to movies, examining how these cinematic experiences shape our identities, beliefs, and communities. In this blog, I will recount these conversations, highlighting key insights and reflecting on the profound influence of movies on our lives.

Finding Nemo, Secretariat, Interstellar, and The Kissing Booth are some of my favorite movies. I interviewed my twin sister for this assignment because I thought seeing if our memories synced would be cool. We both remember watching Finding Nemo at our grandparent's house in Florida. We watched Nemo over and over again and trip after trip. And we would stream in Giggy and PopPop's room on their big bed every time. WE BOTH HAD THE SAME MEMORY when I asked Teagan about the movie Secretariat. It was that our third-grade math teacher once walked Secretariat. And she also loved Interstellar. She only had positive reviews, and I thought the same.

When I think about these movies I remember How movies are a source of nostalgia, connecting us to our past and the cultural context of our upbringing. Revisiting beloved films from our childhood can evoke powerful emotions and create a sense of connection to our personal history.

movies are not just a form of entertainment; they are powerful cultural artifacts that subtly shape our values, beliefs, and identities. They have the capacity to foster empathy, challenge societal norms, and even drive social change. The impact of movies on our lives is often invisible but undeniably profound.

[spacenutspod]

Asteroid impacts have arguably killed off more species than almost any other type of disaster since life began on Earth. The most famous of these, the Chicxulub impactor, killed the dinosaurs about 65 million years ago, along with 76% of all species on the planet at the time. But that was by no means the worst disaster; as far as we can tell, it wasn’t even the biggest asteroid. That title currently goes to the Vredefort crater in South Africa. Coming in at over 300 kilometers wide, it was the largest asteroid crater so far found, at least when it was formed about 2 billion years ago. But that might be about to change if a theory from Andrew Glikson and Tony Yeates of New South Wales is correct. They have found what they believe to be the biggest impact crater on Earth since the Late Heavy Bombardment in their own Australian province of New South Wales, and they think it might have caused one of the other five mass extinction events. They named the crater, which they estimate is around 520 kilometers in size, the Deniliquin structure. Trying to research a structure that massive is a difficult task, and made much more difficult the older the structure is. Drs. Glikson and Yeates estimate the Denliquin structure to be around 445 million years ago. That is a lot of time for erosion, sedimentation, and tectonic activity to take its toll on any structure on Earth, no matter how massive. However, there are some tell-tale clues that researchers can find to point out the size of this impact crater. First is an assessment of the geophysical data of the region. Updates of that data, which culminated in 2020, point to a structure with a defined dome from a seismic event that is around 520 km wide. Other magnetic evidence abounds, such as “radial faults” that point away from what is thought to be the center of the impact structure. And there are some magnetic irregularities that could have been caused by magma swirling around closer to the surface after the impact. Video describing the asteroid impact that created the largest confirmed crater on Earth – though it is smaller than the newly described one in NSW.Credit – GeologyHub YouTube Channel If it does exist, it would have been created by an impact of epic proportions. The authors of a new paper on the crater suggest a specific time in history. Four hundred forty-five million years ago coincided with the geologic event called the Hirnantian glaciation stage, which was part of the first of the five big extinctions – the End Ordovician extinction.  The end of the Ordovician period was caused by massive global cooling, which caused massive changes in ocean chemistry and other problems. A full 86% of all species on Earth died off during this period, as it was the second-most catastrophic of all the extinction events (after the one that ended the Permian 250 million years ago).  Lots of geological processes can cause global cooling, but one of the more dramatic ones is an asteroid impact, which flings ejects into the upper atmosphere to block out the Sun. An impact as big as the one that created the Denliquin structure was undoubtedly big enough to do just that. A description of Chicxulub, probably the best known massive asteroid crater.Credit – GeologyHub YouTube Channel So, could this massive crater be a clue to how a different asteroid caused another global catastrophe? Maybe, but to get a better timestamp on when the impact happened, researchers will need to collect samples from deep within the magnetic core of the impact crater. Currently, there aren’t any plans to do so, but there if the theory garners enough attention, there will undoubtedly be some multi-millionaire who would be willing to fund an effort to try to research the world’s largest impact crater – and discover if it was responsible for one of the deadliest events in Earth’s history. Learn More:The Conversation – New evidence suggests the world’s largest known asteroid impact structure is buried deep in southeast AustraliaGlikson & Yeates – Geophysics and origin of the Deniliquin multiple-ring feature, Southeast AustraliaUT – Scientists Have Been Underestimating the Asteroid That Created the Biggest Known Crater on EarthUT – Recreating the Extreme Forces of an Asteroid Impact in the Lab Lead Image:Satellite image of the impact structure, with a noticeable multi-ring pattern and points denoting shallow drill holes where samples were taken.Credit – Glikson and Yeates The post The Largest Impact Crater on Earth, 520 km Across, Might Be Hiding Under Australia appeared first on Universe Today.

#space #astronomy #news #science

[moremedtech]

ChatGPT scores nearly 50% on board certification practice ophthalmology test

ChatGPT scores nearly 50% on board certification practice ophthalmology test. A study of ChatGPT found the artificial intelligence tool answered less than half of the test questions correctly from a study resource commonly used by physicians when preparing for board certification in ophthalmology. The study, published in JAMA Ophthalmology and led by St. Michael’s Hospital, a site of Unity Health Toronto, found ChatGPT correctly answered 46 percent of questions when initially conducted in Jan. 2023. When researchers conducted the same test one month later, ChatGPT scored more than 10 percent higher. The potential of AI in medicine and exam preparation has garnered excitement since ChatGPT became publicly available in Nov. 2022. It’s also raising concern for the potential of incorrect information and cheating in academia. ChatGPT is free, available to anyone with an internet connection, and works in a conversational manner. “ChatGPT may have an increasing role in medical education and clinical practice over time, however it is important to stress the responsible use of such AI systems,” said Dr. Rajeev H. Muni, principal investigator of the study and a researcher at the Li Ka Shing Knowledge Institute at St. Michael’s. “ChatGPT as used in this investigation did not answer sufficient multiple choice questions correctly for it to provide substantial assistance in preparing for board certification at this time.” Researchers used a dataset of practice multiple choice questions from the free trial of OphthoQuestions, a common resource for board certification exam preparation. To ensure ChatGPT’s responses were not influenced by concurrent conversations, entries or conversations with ChatGPT were cleared prior to inputting each question and a new ChatGPT account was used. Questions that used images and videos were not included because ChatGPT only accepts text input. Of 125 text-based multiple-choice questions, ChatGPT answered 58 (46 percent) questions correctly when the study was first conducted in Jan. 2023. Researchers repeated the analysis on ChatGPT in Feb. 2023, and the performance improved to 58 percent. “ChatGPT is an artificial intelligence system that has tremendous promise in medical education. Though it provided incorrect answers to board certification questions in ophthalmology about half the time, we anticipate that ChatGPT’s body of knowledge will rapidly evolve,” said Dr. Marko Popovic, a co-author of the study and a resident physician in the Department of Ophthalmology and Vision Sciences at the University of Toronto. ChatGPT closely matched how trainees answer questions and selected the same multiple-choice response as the most common answer provided by ophthalmology trainees 44 percent of the time. ChatGPT selected the multiple-choice response that was least popular among ophthalmology trainees 11 percent of the time, second least popular 18 percent of the time, and second most popular 22 percent of the time. ChatGPT closely matched how trainees answer questions and selected the same multiple-choice response as the most common answer provided by ophthalmology trainees 44 percent of the time. ChatGPT selected the multiple-choice response that was least popular among ophthalmology trainees 11 percent of the time, second least popular 18 percent of the time, and second most popular 22 percent of the time. said Andrew Mihalache, lead author of the study and undergraduate student at Western University. Source: St. Michael's Hospital Read the full article

#ai #Chatgpt #largelanguagemodel #medtech #medtechnews #opthamology

[coghive]

BMI Celebrates Gospel Music Superstars Tamela & David Mann At The 2023 BMI Trailblazers Of Gospel Music Awards

Gospel music superstars Tamela & David Mann and Dr. Bobby Jones were celebrated today at the 2023 BMI Trailblazers of Gospel Music Awards held at Flourish in Atlanta, GA. The awards show paid tribute to the best in the Gospel music community and honored BMI’s Gospel Song of the Year, Songwriter of the Year, Publisher of the Year and the top 25 Gospel songs of the previous year.  BMI’s President & CEO, Mike O’Neill and Vice President, Creative, Atlanta, Catherine Brewton hosted the event. The inspirational luncheon began with a celebration of music and joyful worship with Jonathan McReynolds, Chandler Moore and Kirk Franklin performing a medley of three of BMI’s award-winning songs, “Grace,” “Jireh” and “Kingdom,” before moving to the event’s main honorees and award-winners. As a Trailblazer of Gospel Music honoree, Dr. Bobby Jones was saluted for his legendary career, mentorship of the next generation and his tireless contributions to the genre.  The tribute performances honoring Jones’ legacy kicked off with The Company singing “What a Friend,” followed by a beautiful rendition of “Bring it to Jesus” featuring Beverly Crawford. Tamela and David Mann were celebrated as BMI Trailblazers of Gospel Music for their exceptional success in the genre and beyond, both as stellar songwriters, artists and actors. The musical tributes to The Manns kicked-off with Zacardi Cortez and Anaysha Figueroa-Cooper giving a moving performance of “Now Behold the Lamb,” followed by Lisa Knowles-Smith who gave a powerful rendition of “Take Me to the King.” After accepting the honor and thanking those who have helped the husband-and-wife team along the way, Tamela Mann surprised the audience with an explosive performance of her mega-hit, “Change Me,” which spent 23 weeks at number one on Billboard’s Hot Gospel Chart. Throughout the event, BMI saluted the Top 25 most-performed Gospel songs of the previous year, leading up to the coveted BMI Gospel Song of the Year, which went to “Believe For It” written by CeCe Winans and Mitch Wong (APRA). The song spent 12 weeks at the number one spot on Billboard’s Hot Gospel Chart and garnered multiple accolades including two GMA Dove Awards and a GRAMMY for Best Contemporary Christian Music Performance/Song. BMI’s Gospel Songwriter of the Year was a tie between Dante Bowe and Jonathan McReynolds for each writing two of the most performed Gospel songs of the previous year. Bowe was honored for “Joyful” and “Promises” and McReynolds for “Brighter” and “Grace.” BMI’s Gospel Publisher of the Year went to Be Essential Songs for having award-winning songs “Brighter,” “Jireh,” “Promises” and “Something Has to Break,” among its repertoire. During the ceremony, the late legendary soul singer/songwriter Otis Redding was honored with four BMI Million-Air Awards, a distinction that recognizes songwriters whose works have achieved the rare feat of surpassing one million broadcast performances on radio. Originally written and recorded by Otis Redding in the 1960’s, the songs were “Sweet Soul Music” (4 million performances), “Hard to Handle” (7 million performances), “Respect” (7 million performances) and BMI’s Song of the Year in 1968, the incomparable “(Sittin’ on) the Dock of the Bay” (12 million performances).  Attending the ceremony were members of Redding’s family, including his wife Zelma and their daughter Karla Redding-Andrews, who accepted the honors on behalf of her father and the Otis Redding Foundation. Additional performances included a special tribute to the late singer/producer/choir director Kevin Lemons, who was known for his work with Donald Lawrence and the Company, and his own dynamic group known as Kevin Lemons and Higher Calling.  Members of Higher Calling hit the stage for a soul-stirring performance of “Perfect Peace” accompanied by Donald Lawrence and The Company. Other award-winning songs performed throughout the evening included “Just Like God” by Evvie McKinney, “Great” by Kelontae Gavin and “Wonderful is Your Name” by Melvin Crispell. Read the full article

[msamba]

This Year's Small World Photo Contest Unveils the Astounding Details Only Visible Under the Light Microscope | Colossal

This Year’s Small World Photo Contest Unveils the Astounding Details Only Visible Under the Light Microscope | Colossal

OCTOBER 15, 2022. GRACE EBERT Long-bodied cellar/daddy long-legs spider (Pholcus phalangioides), Dr. Andrew Posselt. 4th place. All images courtesy of Nikon Small World, For 48 years the Nikon Small World Photomicrography Competition has garnered some of the most awe-inspiring and illuminated images of all that’s visible once placed under a light microscope. The 2022 contest continues the…

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#Art #Environment #nature

[trapezequeen]

6. Andrew Garner and Melinda May

Maydrew

This is an odd ship for me. I really ultimately feel bad for both of them. He didn’t mean to go through terrigenesis, but after he does he can’t stop himself from killing people. And May has just been through so much. I think they both deserved happiness, but unfortunately they couldn’t save him. Although they are not married anymore, she loves him dearly and may doesnt love just anyone. I’m glad he got to do one last good thing by saving Daisy before he died.

Let me know your thoughts in the comments

#marvel gif #agents of shield #agents of shield season 3 #aos #aos season 3 #Melinda May #agent may #Andrew garner #ming na wen #blair underwood #dr garner #countdown to agents of shield #Disney plus #cannot wait! #poor May

[elenarodriiguez]

tpr | a.g. & d.j. & m.m.

summary: termination of parental rights is never easy to face, especially when it’s the last thing anyone would want to happen.

pairing: andrew garner & daisy johnson & melinda may; andrew garner x melinda may

word count: 1046

read it on ao3

Getting the call from the social worker that a judge had signed off on a termination of parental rights for both Jiaying and Cal was a call that both Andrew and Mel had been dreading for months now. Daisy had been in their custody for a while now, coming up for three years this June, but even so, it was something one could never really prepare a child for.

They knew bits and pieces about her childhood with the Zabos, and while Jiaying and Cal weren’t able to care for her in a way that she needed them to, it didn’t mean their love for her didn’t come in spades. It was in the way Jiaying taught her new phrases in Hunanese every time they had supervised visitation, the way that Cal bought her flowers every time he saw her, the way they smothered her in love and adoration every second of every visit they had with her.

But the system wasn’t based on just those little moments, and unfortunately the judges had declared that they just weren’t capable of looking after Daisy on a full time basis. Andrew had reached out to her parents after the conversation with the social worker, just to check in and see how they were doing, but the hurt was still raw and while they’d been polite, the conversation hadn’t lasted longer than necessary.

When Daisy gets home from school, they sit the girl down right away and tell her what had happened, neither one of them offering up any sentiments of false hope or sugar coating it. She’s distraught, as they had both anticipated, and when she runs upstairs to her room, phone clutched tightly in her hand, they decide to leave her be.

The social worker has had very little to offer in terms of how they should go about contact in the future, neither Mel nor Andrew wanting to tear her away from her parents or her older half-sister. In the meantime, Andrew decides to get started on dinner, while his wife types up a draft email to send to the social worker and the Zabos in the morning.

They can hear the muffled screams and thudding noises coming from Daisy’s room, and while both of them want to rush in and take care of her, hold her in their arms, they know it wouldn’t do her any good. As Andrew carries on cooking dinner, Melinda decides to book an emergency appointment with Daisy’s therapist, Dr. Hand, for the next day, informing the woman that TPR has occurred.

When Andrew dishes up dinner, Mel heads upstairs and knocks on Daisy’s door, letting the young girl know that dinner was ready if she wanted to join them, and if she didn’t then she could take her plate upstairs. Going back into the kitchen, she thanks Andrew with a kiss on his shoulder before taking her plate and having a seat.

When they hear the heavy footsteps of their ward coming down the stairs, neither of them hold out for any hope that she’ll join them, but when she doesn’t leave immediately, Mel flashes her a smile and tugs Andrew down beside her.

“I’m not going to call you Mom, you know that right?” The teen says as she settles down at the kitchen table, sitting directly opposite her foster carers.

“I wouldn’t expect you to Daisy.” Melinda responds, staring at the angry looking teen.

“Because you’re not my mom. You take care of me, and I appreciate it, but you aren’t my mom. And I won’t call Andrew Dad either, because he isn’t my dad.”

Melinda nods and Andrew settles his hand on his wife’s forearm when he sees her hands clench as she resists the urge to reach out to the young girl.

“We know Daisy. Jiaying and Cal are always going to be your parents, we don’t want to replace them. And if adoption or permanent guardianship is a route you’d want to go down, then you should know it’d be for your sake, not ours.”

“We care about you, Daisy. But we aren’t going to do anything that would upset you, or your parents for that matter. Whether you’re legally ours or not, you will always have a place to call home here, and we will always keep you safe.”

“I know that Phil is gonna want to know now if you’re going to adopt me, but, can we wait? I don’t, I don’t know yet if that’s something I want. And uh, I wanna see Mom and Dad first, if that’s okay?”

“Of course it is honey, I’ll tell Phil to hold off on bringing it up for the time being. Now, eat up, Andrew’s food doesn’t taste as good if it needs to be heated up.”

“Can’t be as bad as yours.” Daisy says without thinking, wincing as soon as she realises what she’s just said.

“I’ll let you off that one, for now. Now, eat your food, or else I might have to cook tomorrow.”

The laughter that comes from the threat isn’t as carefree as Daisy’s usually is, but it’s a marked improvement on her mood so Mel and Andrew decide to take it as a win. The rest of their meal is had in silence, Andrew holding his tongue despite the irregularity of the situation, and once Daisy is done with her food, she gets up from the table, putting her plate in the dishwasher and giving both adults brief but tight squeezes before running back to her room.

“She’ll be okay Melinda,” he says when Daisy’s door slams shut, “she just needs to process everything first.”

“I know that, but it’s just hard to see her like this. It’s so awful. We should let her take tomorrow off of school, give her some time before her therapy session to just feel lost.”

“Wow, look at you.” Andrew sidles up behind her and drapes himself on her back. “Melinda May, tiger carer extraordinaire, willingly letting a kid take a day off school without being nudged into it. I’m impressed.”

“Well, she deserves it, especially in a situation like this. Even if she is a mouthy little shit at times.”

“You’re not wrong there. But she’s a good kid.”

“The best.”

#marvel #agents of shield #meldrew #maydaisy #daisy johnson #melinda may #andrew garner #agents of shield oneshot #agents of shield imagine #daisy writes

[thewidowsghost]

The Temple (Pt. 3) - (Daisy Johnson x Fem!Coulson!Avenger!Reader)

Main Masterlist

Previous Parts: The Temple (Skye x Avenger!Coulson!Reader) The Temple Part 2

Previously on The Temple:

The elder Coulson reaches up, brushing a piece of hair behind Skye's ear in a fatherly fashion.

"I'm so sorry. I'm gonna make it right. I'm gonna find the Obelisk."

"No," Coulson murmurs hoarsely.

"I'm gonna stop the drill. I'm gonna make it right," Skye continues, bolting from the room before (Y/n) can even think.

"Skye, no," Coulson calls. "Don't go down there."

"Dad, I have -" (Y/n) begins.

"Go! Go after her!" the elder Coulson says and (Y/n) jumps to her feet, glancing between the doorway Skye had gone through, and her father lying on the ground. "Go!" he yells again, and (Y/n) wipes away her tears, sprinting after Skye.

. . .

There's a metallic grinding nose, and Skye, Trip, (Y/n), and Raina focus on the Obelisk on the pedestal. It opens, revealing crystals and (Y/n) tenses.

"How do we stop it?" Trip asks.

"I don't think we can," (Y/n) says. She turns to Skye, tears welling in her eyes.

Skye grabs the front of (Y/n)'s shirt, pulling (Y/n) closer and kissing her.

"I love you," both young women whisper at the same time; the two focus back on the Obelisk.

Skye exhales heavily as the chamber trembles.

. . .

"And Skye and (Y/n) barely made it out alive! (Y/n) hasn't even woken up yet!" Mack shouts.

"Thanks to Trip! He sacrificed his life, Mack!" May counters.

"No, he traded his life for theirs!" Mack yells. "And then he was shattered into a thousand pieces!"

"That's enough!" the Elder Coulson yells. "If Trip was here, he wouldn't be arguing. He would't be bitching. He would be gearing up to do what needs to be done." Skye looks horrified at the can that had been trembling, and looking around, she sees her girlfriend curled up in the floor in a corner, her hands pressed over her ears. Skye crosses the containment module and sits down next to where is sitting on the other side of the glass. "Yes, we're dealing with forces we don't understand, but HYDRA I do understand. I want everyone ready when the sun comes up - end of discussion."

Everyone else leaves the room and Skye murmurs, loud enough for (Y/n) to hear. "(Y/n), what's happening to us?"

. . .

"The Avengers wouldn't have been necessary if we hadn't unleashed alien horrors," Simmons cuts Skye off again.

(Y/n)'s eyes had gone cold. "Go," she says bitterly, turning away from the scientist.

"But -" Simmons tries but (Y/n) turns back to her.

"There's always danger, Simmons," (Y/n) snaps, the stirring feeling rising up in her again. "Not everything is something that has to be destroyed or -" (Y/n) stops, turning her head away. "Go."

. . .

There are metallic crashes as pots and pan fall onto the ground and into the sink.

"Skye, (Y/n)? You want to talk to us?" May asks, and the two lover exchange horrified glances.

"Skye, what's doing this?" Coulson asks, his eyes widening.

"I am," Skye admits shakily.

Lady Sif goes to grab Skye's arm, and Skye flinches away, "No." Skye pulls (Y/n) along slightly, removing her hand from (Y/n)'s as she claps them to her forehead.

Skye's fist clenches and the glass behind (Y/n) and Skye explodes.

And, as if in slow motion, (Y/n)'s frame grows larger, towering over Skye.

The grizzly bear wraps it's arms around Skye, protecting the brunette from the shattered glass.

"Hand them over," Lady Sif orders and the elder Coulson and May pull out their hand guns, moving in front of the two younger women. "It will be safer for all of you."

. . .

A sword tip is stabbed through the wall.

"Agent May, release the girls!" Lady Sif orders.

"May, she'll get through," Skye whispers.

"Ignore it. Remember - focus," May says.

"I can't," Skye breathes as Lady Sif breaks the barrier.

May steps back and Skye grabs the agent's ICER, shooting herself with the gun. The rumbling stops and (Y/n) turns to her unconscious girlfriend.

"Skye," (Y/n) whispers, fear spiking through her. "Skye!"

"She harmed herself," Lady Sif says, staring at (Y/n) and Skye, her eyes wide.

(Y/n) pulls her unconscious girlfriend closer to her, her eyes wide.

. . .

"A right to know," Fitz echoes. "What - is that the same way that Sif and the Kree had a right to know?"

"I think this situation's a little bit different, mate," Hunter responds.

"No, you would have done to them exactly what Sif and the Kree wanted to," Fitz argues.

"You don't know that," Simmons says.

"Yes, I do know that!" Fitz yells. "They would - You would - You'd 'handle them'! Mack just said it! Like, uh - Skye and (Y/n) are something to be locked away in a cage somewhere. We should be protecting them."

"No, Fitz," Mack interupts. "We're the ones that need protection from them." Then Mack goes silent, looking over Simmons's shoulder.

Fitz and Simmons turns around, and five SHIELD agents catch sight of (Y/n) and Skye - (Y/n) supporting Skye's weight.

Skye looks into the room, looks away, and then she and (Y/n) start back down the hallway, a disgusted look on (Y/n)'s face, and a large dufflebag thrown over (Y/n)'s other shoulder.

Fitz looks between the other for SHIELD agents, and then follows (Y/n) and Skye.

"Skye. (Y/n)," Fitz calls down the hall, but the two women keep making their way down the hallway.

The two make their way into the BUS, entering the containment module.

"You don't have to stay," Skye tells (Y/n).

"You know I'm not going anywhere, love," (Y/n) murmurs, sitting down beside Skye on the small bed. "Please, rest," (Y/n) says softly lying down on her side and lifting an arm so Skye can cuddle up to her. "We'll figure out something," (Y/n) murmurs. I hope . . .

. . .

"Are you kidding me? A shrink?" Skye asks, (Y/n) sitting next to her on the cot as usual, a frown evident on the Avenger's face.

"It's not personal," May tells the brunette.

"Hell, it's not personal. It's a shrink," Skye argues and (Y/n) places a gentle hand on Skye's knee.

"It's standard procedure for anyo -" May begins.

Skye cuts her off, "No, I know, but we're not just on the Index. We're also SHIELD agents."

"Exactly. So you know it's non-negotiable," May argues right back.

Skye scoffs, shaking her head.

"Andrew is good, and he's done this before," May says, her tone softening.

"So have I. I grew up in the system," Skye replies. "I've been through enough of these to know that I hate them."

"You'll like this one," May tells Skye.

"Yeah, how do you know that?" Skye replies, focusing her gaze on (Y/n)'s hand resting on her knee.

"Because I was married to him," May answers and Skye looks up, her eyes wide with shock.

. . .

(Y/n) looks up from her pan as she notices the pots and pans rattling on the wall.

Skye! she thinks, throwing the hot pan into the sink and unknowingly shifting into a panther, and darting out of the room.

(Y/n)'s powerful shoulder muscles bunch and stretch as she speeds up, a black blur as she streaks past the labs.

(Y/n) charges up the loading doors and up to Skye's room, shifting back into herself.

"Skye! You need to wake up!" (Y/n) exclaims, gently shaking Skye's shoulder.

Skye starts, fixing her gaze on (Y/n)'s (E/c) eyes but then she looks at the door as Dr. Garner, May, Fitz, and Simmons burst into the room.

"Hey. Look at me," (Y/n) reaches out a hand, gently moving Skye's face to look her in the eye. "You need to stop this," (Y/n) kneels down and to her relief, Skye keeps her eyes on (Y/n)'s.

"If she needs a sedative . . ." Simmons begins, but May glares at the scientist.

"You can do it Skye. Just focus," (Y/n) whispers, gazing into Skye's brown eyes.

Skye exhales slowly and the shaking stops.

"No, no. It's good. It's good. It's stopping," Fitz tells Simmons.

Dr. Garner and May exchange a look before fixing their gazes on (Y/n), whose hand is resting on Skye's knee now.

. . .

Skye breathes deeply, looking at her bio-meter watch. "Under seventy," Skye says, taking another breath.

"How are you doing that?" Garner asks.

"May taught me," Skye replies. "You focus on a single point, let everything else become noise disappearing in the background."

"Except it doesn't disappear you're pushing it aside," Garner says, putting his hands on his hips. Which is why, when you were dreaming, the tremors started." Skye swallows thickly. "What were you dreaming about?" Garner asks.

"I don't remember," Skye replies, her cheeks darkening.

"You're seeming defensive," Garner says, frowning.

"Because you keep pushing," Skye argues.

"Because whatever you were feeling was strong enough to shake this entire plane," Garner replies, his brows furrowing.

"Well, I don't know, so let's move on," Skye says, her eyes watery. "How about you show me an inkblot, and I tell you about me and my girlfriend's first time?" Skye asks, leaning forward. The moment she says it though, she regrets it. Their first time had been magical, and Skye had never felt so loved that night.

Garner chuckles. "Humor. So that's your thing. Well, that's an effective way to avoid thinking about how monumentally painful your life is right now."

"Good pep talk," Skye says through gritted teeth. "Thanks," Skye frowns, her brows furrowing.

"Sarcasm. Same purpose - avoidance strategy," Garner says.

"What am I avoiding, exactly?" Skye asks, leaning forward and crossing her legs criss-cross-applesauce on her and (Y/n)'s shared bed.

"The truth," Garner says. "That - not just you, but your girlfriend too - are different now, that you have abilities, your abilities triggered by pain, and either you face that or you don't sleep again."

Skye swallows thickly, her gaze falling on the door, wishing that (Y/n) would walk through the door; wishing that (Y/n) would set her hand on her knee like she always did when Skye was feeling scared or nervous; wishing that (Y/n) would walk through with a carefully picked tub of salted caramel ice cream and two spoons.

. . .

(Y/n) enters the room a moment later holding two spoons and a tub of salted caramel ice cream.

Skye gazes softly at (Y/n) as (Y/n) comes over to sit beside her on their shared bed.

"Dad needed backup," (Y/n) tells Skye as she hands her girlfriend a spoon, then cracking open the tub of ice cream.

Skye leans affectionately against (Y/n), digging her spoon into the carton and making airplane noises like she would to a baby, poking (Y/n)'s lips with the spoon.

(Y/n)'s shoulder shake with silent laughter, and she opens her mouth, eating the spoonful off Skye's spoon.

(Y/n) takes her own spoon, scooping out another bite. She moves it towards Skye's lips. When Skye opens her mouth, (Y/n) steals the bite.

Skye giggles this time, her head falling on (Y/n)'s shoulder.

. . .

"We want everyone to know what you do to people like us," Cal says, his voice echoing through the silent stadium. "And we want you to stop before you do it to her."

"Talking about her?" (Y/n) says through gritted teeth, pushing Skye forward, her unloaded handgun pressed to the side of Skye's neck.

"You monster," Cal turns to (Y/n), his brow furrowing.

(Y/n)," Coulson breathes, looking at his daughter in disbelief.

"Daisy," Cal says, gazing at his daughter. "What have they done to you?"

"We put her on the Index," May says, coming up and pressing her unloaded handgun into the small of Skye's back. "Now we decide - contain her or put her down." May shoves the gun into Skye's back again. "Your call."

"Tell me they didn't hurt you," Cal says, stepping forward to gaze into his daughter's watery eyes.

"Talk to me, not her," (Y/n) presses the gun into Skye's neck, hating herself for being so harsh, but she knows she has to keep up the facade.

. . .

"Skye," Garner says, running over to the brunette. "Come on. Come on."

"(Y/n), go with them," May gives (Y/n) a slight nudge. "You're the only one who can keep her calm."

(Y/n) takes Skye's hand in her own, pulling her along.

Skye's breathing stutters as she watches Coulson and May fight Cal's companions.

Skye breathes deeply and the stadium begins to rumble.

Everyone looks at her and (Y/n) drops Skye's hand, clutching her left wrist.

The rumbling stops and (Y/n) looks over at Skye's hands and lower arms which were darkening with bruises.

. . .

(Y/n) lies down on Skye's stomach, letting out soft kitten purrs that sooth Skye back to sleep, her bruised fingers gently brushing (Y/n)'s orange fur.

(Y/n) had realized that when using her powers, it was more helpful if she knew a lot about the animal she was going to change into.

3rd Person POV

"Andrew's recommending Skye be removed from SHIELD," Coulson tells May. "Effective immediately."

"I agree with his recommendation," May says, her face blank.

Coulson breathes deeply, sitting down in his chair. "I've got to admit . . . I'm surprised to hear you say that."

. . .

"The ankle bone is always the hardest," Coulson says from the doorway, smiling at Skye, who was playing operation.

(Y/n) was asleep on the bed, the top of her head against Skye's thigh.

"Yeah," Skye replies. "Maybe a game of nerves isn't the best idea for me." Skye puts down the board game, and (Y/n) shifts in her sleep, murmuring softly as her head finds its way atop Skye's thigh.

"You and I need to take a ride," Coulson says, and Skye flinches unconsciously, jolting (Y/n) awake.

"Waz goin on?" (Y/n) asks drowsily.

"Skye and I have to go for a ride," Coulson tells his daughter.

(Y/n) sits up sleepily but alert at the same time. "I'm coming too," (Y/n) argues.

Coulson dips his head in acknowledgment.

"Then you'd better pack a bag," Coulson tells the two.

Skye lets out a sigh as Coulson walks out of the room.

(Y/n) gently takes Skye's injured wrists in her own hands, her wrist cast brushing against one of Skye's.

"You don't have to come with me," Skye murmurs to her girlfriend.

"I didn't leave you before," (Y/n) murmurs. "I'm not going to go now."

Skye softens, nuzzling her nose against a scar to the right of (Y/n)'s nose.

(Y/n) smiles shyly, leaning her head forward a little to press a gentle kiss to Skye's lips.

. . .

"I"m sorry about everything that's happening, Skye," Coulson tells his daughter's girlfriend as the jet goes to wherever it's taking them.

"It's not your fault. The blame begins and ends with my dad," Skye replies.

"Well, you wouldn't be the first person to have parents with misguided intentions," Coulson replies, his gaze resting on his daughter, who was asleep in her chair across from them.

"Nope, just the first whose crazy dad lured her to an alien city to get earthquake powers," Skye retorts.

Skye and Coulson share a look of amusement. "Yeah," Coulson says with a smile.

"I got us a little something for the trip," Coulson says, leaning down and the rustling of the backpack wakes (Y/n).

Coulson senses his daughter's awake presence and hands her a Twizzler and (Y/n)'s eyes brighten, taking the piece of licorice.

Skye chuckles and all three bite into their Twizzlers.

"Thing I remember most about my dad is that he was a car guy," Coulson says, and (Y/n) looks at her father in surprise. He didn't like to talk much about his father. "Always working on this junker he insisted I help him fix. While my friends were outside, playing ball, having fun, there I was, stuck at home with him, fixing that damn car. Wasn't till we finished that it hit me. That car was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen at the time." Coulson spares a glance at his daughter and (Y/n) flushes, taking another bite of the candy. "And all the time we'd spent together working on it gave me an appreciation I never would have had otherwise."

"Hold on," Skye says, looking amused. "Was that car a red 1962 Corvette?" she asks, a smile twitching on her lips.

"Yeah," Coulson says with a smile.

"Well, he'd be very proud," Skye says. "You red Corvette flies. How cool is that?" she questions.

"It's pretty cool," Coulson replies.

(Y/n) smiles at the interaction between her father and her girlfriend.

"But the thing I think he'd like most about, is, at her core, she's still just a red '62 Corvette," Coulson says.

"Just to be clear, I-I'm the Corvette in this story?" Skye questions, Coulson smiles gently. "Now, you want to tell us where we're going?" Skye asks.

Coulson pauses, turning away from Skye's question. "We're almost there."

(Y/n) and Skye exchange a look.

. . .

"It's one of Fury's old retreats," Coulson tells his daughter and her girlfriend.

"I haven't been here in years," Coulson goes on.

(Y/n) closes the cabin door behind her and Skye.

"Fury's not the kind of guy that has a cabin just to relax," Skye says.  "What is this place?" she asks.

"It's a safe-house for people with powers," Coulson replies.

"Didn't Steve spend a few weeks here after he was pulled from the ice?" (Y/n) asks, and Coulson nods.

"Okay, but who's it supposed to keep safe -" Skye pauses, "- the people with power or everyone else?"

"Both," Coulson answers. "Skye, (Y/n), I'm afraid I have to pull you from active duty."

Skye nods. "I get it. I do. I just didn't think that you'd lock us up," Skye adds, "like a werewolf during a full moon."

"I think I'm the wolf," (Y/n) jokes and Skye cracks a smile, grateful for (Y/n)'s humor breaking the ice.

"You're not alone here," Coulson says.

"Yeah, I'll be here with you," (Y/n) says and Coulson's lips twitch.

"There's a direct video link to the base, and May will keep dropping by every couple of days," Coulson tells Skye.

"What are we supposed to do?" Skye asks. "Go fishing?"

"Probably not a good idea. There's a laser fence around the perimeter," Coulson advises. "Look, this is a safe place. You can relax here. You both can use this time to get handles on your abilities," Coulson tells the two.

Skye looks like she's about to cry, and (Y/n) crosses the cabin to wrap an arm around Skye's waist. "Yeah, 'cause that's worked great so far," Skye replies, her words catching in her throat.

"Well, maybe it's time we give you and hand with that," Coulson answers.

Coulson steps away to pull out a black box out of a bag. "Simmons has been working around the clock on these."

(Y/n)'s expression hardens at Simmons's name. (Y/n) hadn't been Jemma's biggest fan since the two had received their powers.

"She assures me they'll cut your recovery time in half," Coulson tells Skye, and the brunette walks over, gently detangling herself from (Y/n) to look at what Simmons had made.

"How do they work?" Skye wonders, picking up the gloves.

(Y/n) walks over, looking at Skye's gloves.

"The internal wiring emits a surge of electricity to inhibit your powers," Coulson replies and (Y/n)'s gaze darkens.

"So these take her powers away?" (Y/n) asks angrily.

"They more like decrease their magnitude," Coulson says, "to keep Skye from hurting herself. Like I said, we want her to heal."

"Seems like a no brainier," Skye murmurs, brushing her fingers across the cloth.

"It's a personal call," Coulson replies.

"What do you mean?" Skye asks. "Are there side effects?"

"A few," Coulson replies. "Simmons can go over them with you later."

"Are these gloves really my best option?" Skye asks, her eyes watery.

"I can't answer that question for you, Skye." Coulson says.

"Stop," Skye says, feeling slightly angry. "Stop being this SHIELD guy for just one reason, okay? Please. We've been through way too much together."

(Y/n) steps forward to place a comforting hand on Skye's shoulder but Skye shrugs off the hand. (Y/n) recoils a little, a hurt expression on her face, before she moves over to where she had put the dufflebags on the ground.

(Y/n) carries Skye's bag to one of the rooms, setting it on the bed.

(Y/n) blinks regretfully and she takes her own bag to one of the other rooms, tossing it infront of the closet door. She lies down on the bed, her back to the door, hugging a pillow to her chest.

"(Y/n)?" Skye's voice is soft, the brunette framed in the doorway. The (E/c) eyed woman remains silent, and there is a pang in Skye's heart.

The brunette moves over to the bed, and tucks a blanket around (Y/n)'s frame.

"I'm sorry," Skye murmurs. "I love you."

(Y/n) turn over, looking into Skye's eyes, as though trying to see if the brunette was being genuine.

"I'm sorry too," (Y/n) replies. "I love you."

Skye lets out a soft noise and climbs into the bed beside (Y/n). (Y/n) throws the blanket over her love, wrapping her arms tightly around Skye's frame.

Skye whimpers softly at (Y/n)'s affection, burying her face in (Y/n)'s neck.

"We'll figure this out," (Y/n) murmurs.

. . .

"Sir," Fitz gets up from his chair to talk to the director. "Where are Skye and (Y/n)?"

"I'm afraid that's confidential," Coulson replies.

"'Cause you're keeping them prisoner somewhere, aren't you?" Fitz asks.

"Skye and (Y/n) are safe, Agent Fitz," Coulson says, frowning at the scientist. "That's all you need to know.

Fitz lets out a sigh as Coulson walks away. Then, he looks over her shoulder at Simmons, and Simmons meets his gaze sourly.

"You took something -" Fitz begins, walking towards Simmons at her desk, "- up to Coulson earlier. What was it?" he asks.

"It was nothing," Simmons replies.

"Didn't look like nothing," Fitz says, his eyes watery. "What was in the case, Jemma?" he questions, leaning  towards the other scientist.

"Something to help Skye," Simmons answers.

"Because you want to change her," Fitz retorts, pointing at Simmons. "Is that it?"

"Stop it," Simmons snaps. "I don't want to change her. Or (Y/n)," she adds before Fitz can say anything. "The Diviner did that. I'm just trying to fix them."

Fitz stares at his fellow scientist. "You never used to be this scared. You know that?" he asks finally.

"Trip died, Fitz," Simmons replies, "all because we didn't take the necessary precautions."

"No, it's not that. You're afraid," Fitz states. "'Cause of what happened to me, (Y/n), and Skye, how all three of us changed." Fitz pauses, "Well, you know what the scariest change is, Jemma?" Simmons looks at her friend. "It's you."

Fitz crosses his arms, and leaves the lab.

. . .

"It's a little weird here," Skye says, looking at the computer screen. "But we're settling in."

(Y/n) smiles softly at her girlfriend as she cuts up some potatoes.

"We've played a few dozen games of cards," Skye goes on.

"Well, May will be there in a few, so don't give up on cards yet," Simmons replies.

"Who do we have to thank for the Little Debbie snack cakes?" (Y/n) calls and Skye grins, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

"That was Coulson's idea," Simmons says, letting her head rest in her hand. "But I did pick you two out some nice gluten-free biscuits," Simmons goes on, brightening a little.

"Ah. Yeah, I'll - I'll - I'll look for those," Skye stumbles over her words, trying to sound excited and (Y/n) chuckles, putting the potatoes into a pan and sliding them into the oven.

"Have you tried on the gloves yet?" Simmons asks and (Y/n)'s expression sours a little.

"I have not, but I - I will," Skye admits.

"Well, when you're feeling up to it, it might be work giving them a go," Simmons says cheerfully. "They're obviously just a prototype," Simmons goes on, "but they're laced with a microthread I designed, which should accelerate your healing and dampen the vibrations. I just want you to be safe, Skye. You know that, right?" Simmons asks.

"I do," Skye says. "It means a lot, Jemma, thank you."

"Okay then, call me if you need anything," Simmons tells Skye.

"I will," Skye replies. "Bye."

. . .

A few minutes later, (Y/n) sets the plates down on the table, and Skye looks impressed.

"How do you do this?" Skye asks through a bite of potato.

“My dad was a terrible cook when I was younger,” (Y/n) admits, her eyes sparkling at the memories. “The only good thing he could make was -”

“Grilled cheese?” Skye finishes, taking a bit of her burger.

“It’s so, so good,” (Y/n) says. “What does he put in that grilled cheese to make it so good?” she questions aloud.

. . .

A little later, (Y/n) and Skye are nursing steaming mugs of hot chocolate, Skye stoking the fire in the fireplace so they could roast some marshmallows (Y/n) had stashed away in her backpack.

Skye lets out a sigh, then fixes her gaze on the open box sitting on the kitchen table.

Skye gets to her feet and pads over to the box. (Y/n) sets her mug on the coffee table on a coaster before moving to stand behind Skye.

“Do you want me to help you?” (Y/n) asks, taking one of the gloves from the box in her hand.

Skye blinks up at (Y/n) and then nods.

(Y/n)’s fingers gently brush Skye’s arms, rolling up her sleeves, and Skye inhales shakily.

(Y/n) pauses, her eyes wide with concern.

“Go ahead,” Skye murmurs.

(Y/n) stretches out the gloves a little, and, as gently as she can, slides them over Skye’s bruised hand.

Skye inhales sharply and (Y/n) flinches as she pulls away.

“No, you’re okay,” Skye says. “Put the other one on,” Skye tells her.

(Y/n) looks hesitant but then grabs the other glove, and gently tries to slide it onto Skye’s other wrist.

“Thank you,” Skye says, her eyes warm with affection.

Then, the gloves glow with a blue light, and Skye staggers, a surge of pain flowing through her.

Skye sways, and (Y/n) moves over to put her arms around Skye’s shoulders.

“Hey,” (Y/n) murmurs. “You okay?” she asks, looking a little scared.

Skye doesn’t reply, looking dazed.

There is a slight whooshing noise, and Skye looks around, looking a little less dazed.

(Y/n) sets Skye down on the couch before she moves over to the door, initiating the laser grid around the cabin.

(Y/n) fixes her gaze on a movement outside the window. She slides the curtain closed.

Skye looks a little spooked. “Fitz,” Skye murmurs, “why did you make me watch ‘Paranormal Activity’?” she questions.

Electricity crackles, and Skye looks around, her eyes wide eyed.

Skye gets to her feet, and grabs the poker from the fireplace, holding it like a sword.

(Y/n) places a hand on the door knob.

The door creaks as it opens.

(Y/n) and Skye peer through the open door.

(Y/n) looks at her girlfriend, a look of confusion on her face. Then, she closes the door.

Skye moves towards the couch, but there is another knock on the door.

(Y/n) swallows thickly, turning. She raises her injured hand to keep Skye from moving any closer.

(Y/n) makes for the door, and throws it open. Her brows furrow as she sees the older man framed in the doorway.

“Hello Skye, (Y/n),” the man says. “I’m Gordon.” Skye moves forward, standing at (Y/n)’s shoulder. “May I come in?” he asks.

Skye levels the poker Gordon as he steps into the cabin. He chuckles, “So, what is the plan with that?” he asks.

Skye watches him cautiously and (Y/n) closes the cabin’s door.

“You . . . You can see?” Skye questions.

Gordon hums, seemingly considering Skye’s question. “Not the way you do, but I can see that you are afraid,” Gordon answers. (Y/n) puts a hand on Skye’s bisep. “You don’t need to be,” Gordon goes on. “Not with me.”

“Who are you?” Skye asks.

“I’m like the two of you,” Gordon replies. “And I’ve come here as a friend. Can’t imagine how it must have felt to go through your transformations without any understanding of what to expect.” Gordon turns away to ‘look’ around the cabin. “I had years to prepare. And still,” Gordon chuckles, “I was horrified by that I became. Granted,” Gordon adds, “I was younger.” Gordon gestures to the couch behind him. “May I sit?” he asks.

“Sure,” (Y/n) replies.

Gordon smiles, plopping down onto the couch, and (Y/n) and Skye sit down on the coffee table.

“This couch is very uncomfortable,” Gordon says. Skye watches the older man. “I wish you wouldn’t stare,” Gordon says.

“I -” Skye begins.

“T-that was a joke,” Gordon says, lifting a hand to wave Skye off. “I’m not very good at them. I don’t mind that you’re curious, honestly. And, yes, I used to have eyes. They were blue. This . . .” Gordon gestures to his face, “. . . this was the obvious change for me, but what happens inside can be just as profound. You see, the mist changes everyone differently,” Gordon tells them. “The real difference between the three of us is what happened after we went through the mist.

“What do you mean?” Skye asks, her voice quavering and (Y/n) takes her hand squeezing it gently.

“Well, I knew from an early age how special I was - had a mentor, a guide of sorts. The first thing she did after I transformed was embrace me. Tell me, Skye, (Y/n), what was the first thing SHIELD did to you?”

Both Skye and (Y/n) look down at the gloves that Simmons had made for Skye. Skye’s wooziness had flashed in (Y/n)’s subconscious.

“What do they feel like?” Gordon asks. “Your gifts?” he clarifies.

“I don’t know. Um . . .” she falters. “It’s intense,” she says after a moment. She sighs. “Like 1,000 bees are trapped inside of me. And I feel it all the time. It’s always there.” She pauses, looking at her gloved hands. “And I can’t stop it.”

“Why would you want to stop it?” Gordon asks.

“Because I destroy everything around me,” Skye says and (Y/n) wraps an arm around Skye’s shoulders.

“That’s simply not true,” Gordon says. “Every object in this universe gives off a vibration. Did you know that?” Gordon gets up from the couch. “Nothing rests - animals, trees, people, even this ratty couch. And you, Skye, have the ability to tap into those vibrations. Don’t you see?” he asks. “You could become magnificent.”

“I already think you’re magnificent,” (Y/n) murmurs in Skye’s ear, and Skye smiles softly.

“But something’s inhibiting you, constraining your energy,” Gordon goes on, not having heard the interaction.

“Uh, no. No, no,” Skye says, looking at her gloved wrists. “My, um - friend’s a scientist. She was just trying to protect me.”

“Or do they protect people from you?” Gordon asks, and (Y/n) hides her injured wrist.

“No, it’s not like that,” Skye tries to argue. “My powers, I - I can’t control them. And when I try to, it hurts me.”

“Most gifts come with a price,” Gordon says. Gordon then turns back to (Y/n). “What about yours?” he asks.

“It’s just like a stirring feeling,” (Y/n) replies. As she goes on, she carefully avoids Skye’s gaze. “It depends on who I’m around. Sometimes it’s intense, and I feel nauseous, and other times it’s more gentle.”

Gordon fixes his ‘gaze’ on (Y/n).

“Is there a certain person, or group of people, where it’s less intense?” Gordon asks.

“There are,” (Y/n) says vaguely, squeezing Skye’s hand that had fallen down to gently rest on (Y/n)’s thigh.

“I apologize. I’m saying too much,” Gordon says, as though feeling (Y/n)’s unease. “This is probably not the best place to continue our conversation. Neither of you have to have the tools or the understanding that you need just yet.”

“To do what?” Skye asks.

“To be who you were always meant to be without fear, without pain,” Gordon replies. “We can offer that to you. Both of you.”

“How?” (Y/n) asks.

“I can take you both to a place where you can be with people like us,” Gordon answers.

“Us?” Skye asks, getting up from (Y/n)’s side. “How many are there?”

“You can learn about yourselves, your gifts,” Gordon says. “You’ll both be safe, but only if you want to come.”

Skye lets out a quavering sigh.

“When you’re ready, I’ll find you,” Gordon says, buttoning up his jacket.

“How will you find -” Skye begins.

“Trust me. I’ll know,” Gordon interrupts, moving towards the door.

There’s a crackle of electricity and Gordon disappears.

(Y/n) gets up from her place on the coffee table and moves over to Skye, wrapping her arms around her waist, and letting her chin rest on Skye’s shoulder.

“Are you ready to go to bed?” (Y/n) murmurs.

“It’s been a long day,” Skye agrees, her eyes closing with contentment and leaning back into (Y/n)’s embrace.

After a moment, Skye looks down at her gloved hands. (Y/n) gently sits Skye down on one of the couches.

Skye closes her fists, breathing out slowly as pain spikes through her. She pulls the gloves off after a moment, looking at her bruised hands.

(Y/n) sits down on the coffee table, across from Skye. She takes Skye’s hands gently in her own, her thumbs brushing along the dark bruises.

“Maybe you should try running some cold water over your hands,” (Y/n) suggests, her eyes soft.

Skye looks lovingly at her girlfriend. Skye stands up and moves to the sink, turning the water on and running her hands under the water.

Skye looks down as the water makes more of a whistling noise. The water is bending.

Skye lets out a laugh as she wills the water to straighten itself out with her powers.

(Y/n) sighs happily at Skye’s relief, smiling warmly.

Skye’s phone rings, and Skye crosses over to the desk, picking it up and answering it.

“Hello?” Skye asks.

“Skye,” May says.

“May, what’s happening?” Skye asks, and (Y/n) turns to Skye. “I couldn’t connect to you guys?”

“You and (Y/n) need to get out of there now,” May replies, ignoring Skye’s question.

“What? Why? What are you talking about?” Skye asks more urgently, and (Y/n) sits up straighter.

“There’s a panel on the Southwest corner of the compound,” May tells Skye. “It’ll let you bring down the laser-grid fence.”

“May, stop,” Skye says quickly.

“You two can do this. I believe in you,” May says.

“Skye? What’s going on?” (Y/n) asks, looking worried at the expression of confusion on Skye’s face.

“You both need to run - now,” May says urgently, and Skye’s expression turns horrified. “They’re coming for you.”

“Who - who’s coming for us?” Skye asks, and (Y/n)’s expression hardens.

(Y/n) moves to the bedroom where she had thrown her dufflebag, and she pulls two handguns from the bag.

“SHEILD?” Skye repeats as (Y/n) moves back into the living room.

(Y/n) hands Skye one of the handguns and the power goes off.

Skye moves forward, pressing her forehead to (Y/n)’s for a moment.

(Y/n) grabs Skye’s hand, leading her to the door. She flings the door open, stepping out into the night.

There is the sound of a quinjet whirring and a horrified expression on her face.

“Stay close,” (Y/n) closes her eyes, thinking of the powerful muscles, small, sharp eyes, dark black fur, and sharp ears.

Skye looks down at her girlfriend, who had shifted into a fluffy, green eyed, black cat.

(Y/n) paws her girlfriend, mewling softly.

There are flashes of light above. “Oh my God,” Skye mutters.

(Y/n) lets out another meow, and Skye starts.

(Y/n) breaks into a run, Skye following her.

(Y/n)’s muscles bunch and stretch as she streaks through the forest.

Skye pants heavily as she follows (Y/n) at a run, trying to avoid the beams of light from the quinjets above.

Skye bumps into a figure, and (Y/n) steadies her girlfriend with a hand, having shifted back to herself.

(Y/n) takes Skye’s hand and the two creep through the forest.

A SHIELD agent points a gun at (Y/n)’s face, and as he pulls the trigger, (Y/n) thrusts the gun up towards the sky.

With a few well placed punches, the agent falls to the ground.

“We’ve got to go,” (Y/n) says, grabbing Skye’s hand again.

The two sprint through the woods.

They come to a clearing, where (Y/n) and Skye come across another agent who levels their gun at (Y/n).

(Y/n) lets go of Skye’s hand and steps forward, knocking the gun from the agent’s hand.

Both SHIELD agents move to hand-to-hand combat. The male agent’s fist smacks into (Y/n)’s nose, and blood gushes from it.

(Y/n) sweeps her leg behind the agent’s leg, and he crashes heavily to the ground.

“Skye! No!” comes Bobbi’s scream and (Y/n) moves in front of Skye, shielding the brunette’s body with her own.

(Y/n) collapses to the ground, the bullet lodged in the back of her knee.

Skye lets out a wail, slumping to the ground, a surge of energy exploding out of her, shredding the trees around the clearing.

A shard of wood pierces the agent who had shot (Y/n) in the shoulder; Bobbi lands on the ground on her side, and trees splinter.

Bobbi looks up dazedly, watching Skye, who had buried her face into (Y/n)’s jacket, the brunette’s eyes filling with tears.

“Gordon, help,” Skye whispers.

There is a flash of blue light and Gordon lands beside (Y/n) and Skye.

Gordon leans down, places his hands on Skye and (Y/n)’s shoulders, and they disappear in another flash of blue light.

. . .

(Y/n) stirs. Her nose and her knee felt uncomfortably better. Then she realizes that, one, she isn’t with Skye; two, she was basically naked, cloths were draped over her chest, torso, and her pelvis area, and three; there were needles sticking from just about every place in her body.

“Hey,” comes Gordon’s voice through (Y/n)’s drowsiness. “Everything’s gonna be okay. You’re safe now.”

“Gordon, where am I?” (Y/n) asks, her words slurring a little. “Where’s Skye?”

“This is the place I told you about. Skye called for me,” Gordon replies. “Skye’s in the next room over.”

“How long have I been here?” (Y/n) asks, trying to get to her feet, but the needles in her skin make it impossible for her to get up.

“Two days,” Gordon says, and (Y/n) stops struggling to look at him with wide eyes.

“I’ve got to go,” (Y/n) says, struggling to get up again. “What the hell are you doing to me?” (Y/n) asks.

“We’re healing you,” comes another voice. “Leaving now wouldn’t exactly be -” the man chuckles, “ - you ever made microwave popcorn?” the man asks, coming into view.

The man was blonde, had a five o’clock shadow, and was wearing a long sleeved t-shirt and jeans.

“Of course, who hasn’t?” (Y/n) questions.

“Leave it in too long, and it’s charcoal,” the man goes on. “Take it out too soon and it’s a bag of kernels.”

“That’s a horrible analogy,” (Y/n) retorts.

The man nods in agreement.

“Imagine a thousand years of evolution all happening at once,” the man says once Gordon had left. “That’s what happened to you after the mist. These treatments - we’re helping your body adjust properly to the change transitioning you quickly and painlessly, I hope.”

“Who are you?” (Y/n) asks, narrowing her eyes.

“Oh, I’m Lincoln, your transitioner,” Lincoln replies.

“How long?” (Y/n) asks. “When can I go?” (Y/n) asks.

“You got places to be, people to see?” Lincoln asks, looking a little amused.

“My girlfriend,” (Y/n) replies shortly, shifting uncomfortably on the bed. “My friends and my dad; I think they’re in danger.”

“You’re the one that’s in danger, (Y/n),” LIncoln replies. “Remember? You’re being hunted. You came here with a broken nose, a fractured wrist, and a bullet lodged in the back of your knee.”

. . .

(Y/n) surges forward, wrapping Skye in a tight hug.

There is a moment of silence and then Lincoln says, “Let’s walk?”

. . .

“This place is more like a way station,” Lincoln says, (Y/n) walking close to Skye though Afterlife, their hands brushing with every arm swing. “I’m from Cincinnati, trying to finish Med School. I’m brought here when I’m needed. Some people come here when they need a safe place to stay.”

“Why do I feel like the new kid in school right now?” Skye asks and (Y/n) grins. “Everyone is staring at us.”

The grin slides off (Y/n)’s face, and she realizes that everyone was looking at her and Skye.

“Gordon didn’t explain?” Lincoln asks.

“No, I thought you said that everyone here is like us and that this happens all the . . . time,” Skye says.

Lincoln chuckles, “Are you kidding? T-this has never happened. Things here have always been done a certain way. These people are descendents, yes, but most of them are waiting to be chosen. They carry the genetic marker and have been brought here to be evaluated, cultured, and prepared for the change should they be selected, but that only happens to one person every few years.”

“They actually want to go through?” (Y/n) asks, remembering her and Skye’s own experience in the alien city.

“This tradition has been passed down through countless generations -” Lincoln begins.

“And we jumped the line,” Skye finishes.

“And not only did you go through without permission or prep, but you went through the old school way with a Diviner and a Kree temple. Uh, that hasn’t happened for thousands of years.”

“Look, we’re revolutionaries,” (Y/n) jokes.

But Lincoln continues, “You can see why some of these people might be a little envious.”

(Y/n) winces, “Nevermind.”

“I’d gladly change places with any of them,” Skye says and (Y/n) nods in agreement.

“We didn’t want this,” (Y/n) adds grimly.

“I understand,” Lincoln replies.

“Uh, the woman who changed with us, Raina . . .” Skye begins, “. . . Gordon took her and my father. Are they here?” Skye asks.

“Gordon takes people everywhere,” Lincoln replies. “It’s his job to keep us safe. I promise, there is no one here who will harm you. You’re both protected here.”

. . .

“This is yours, for as long as you want it,” Lincoln says, leading Skye and (Y/n) into a room.

“Gordon brought your bags from the cabin,” Lincoln says. “So, you know, take some time, try to relax.”

“Relax?” Skye asks, scoffing. “This’ll be our fourth bed in the past week, and we’ve been locked up, quarantined, psychoanalyzed.”

“Let me guess. To protect you from yourselves,” Lincoln says. Lincoln picks Skye’s gloves off of one of the tables. “These seriously compromised the transition process. It’s one of the reasons, uh, you were out for so long,” he tells Skye.

“Our friend - She was just . . . trying to help,” Skye says, her eyes watery.

“I mean, she thought she was dealing with human biology,” Lincoln says, “but you graduated from that class. I’m going to take a closer look at these, uh, meanwhile, try to get some rest. Tomorrow, maybe we’ll see what gifts you’ve been given.”

“It’s more like a curse,” Skye replies as Lincoln walks away.

“A lot of us feel that way at first, but you’ll learn to control it,” Lincoln says.

“I don’t want to control it - I want to get rid of it,” Skye retorts. “That’s why I called Gordon. I thought he would be able to fix me.”

“I’m sorry,” Lincoln says. “I-I thought you knew. The transition is irreversible.”

Lincoln leaves the room and Skye buries her face into (Y/n)’s chest.

. . .

“I need you to give a message to my friends, let them know we’re okay,” Skye tells Gordon as she, Lincoln, and (Y/n) walk through Afterlife again the next day.

“I can ask permission but they’ll advise it, it’s better we stay quiet for the time being,” Gordon replies.

“Uh . . . wait,” Skye says, as Gordon walks away, and Gordon turns back around. “My father and Raina - where did you take them?”

“I can’t divulge their location, just as I can’t divulge yours,” Gordon replies. “But you don’t need to worry about them.” Gordon says, turning and walking away.

“What does he mean, ‘ask permission’?” (Y/n) asks Lincoln. “Ask permission from who?”

“The Elders,” Lincoln answers. “Who two have made a lot of people afraid - afraid that our secret won’t be safe for much longer.”

Skye watches Gordon.

“Come on,” Lincoln says, and (Y/n) and Skye follow.

. . .

Skye busts through the doors. “Raina!” (Y/n) trailing after her.

“Skye, (Y/n), isn’t this interesting? I had a feeling I might be seeing the two of you,” Raina says calmly.

“Skye, (Y/n),” Lincoln runs into the room, “please, let’s go.”

“Let them stay,” Raina says. “We have so much to talk about.”

“What happened to you?” Skye asks, sounding horrified.

“Destiny . . . apparently,” Raina retorts. “I wanted to be set free, but now I can’t even bear the light of day. I dread being awake. But my sleep is filled with such horrible nightmares.” Raina inhales sharply. “Children are so afraid of monsters,” Raina gets to her feet. “They should know it’s worse to be one,” Raina goes on.

“You got what you deserved,” Skye says, her voice quavering.

“And so did you,” Raina snaps.

“We didn’t deserve any of this,” Skye growls. “You did this to us!”

“Skye,” (Y/n) murmurs.

“No,” Skye straightens up, “You have brought nothing but pain into my life - my father, the mist. My friend Trip died in there because of you!”

“I didn’t make either of you follow me into that chamber,” Raina replies calmly. “You wanted to go, Skye. You needed to go because we’re the same, Skye.” Skye shakes her head. “We were the same before, and we’re the same now. I am on the outside, what you are on the inside.” Raina pulls off her hood, and (Y/n) puts a hand on Skye’s shoulder, pulling her back a little.

Skye starts losing control of her powers and Raina falls to her knees.

“Enough,” comes a new voice and Skye stops, startled and breathing heavily.

“Who are you?” Skye asks.

“My name is Jiaying,” the woman replies. “You’re both guests in my house.”

“You don’t know her,” Skye retorts. “You have no idea what she’s capable of.”

“She’s capable of beauty and greatness, just as we all are,” Jiaying says.

“She can’t be trusted. She killed people!” Skye growls.

“From what Gordon tells me, you could have, as well,” Jiaying replies calmly. “And from what I just saw, you’re certainly capable of it.” Jiaying moves over to help Raina up, and then Jiaying turns to watch Skye again.

(Y/n) once again reaches out a hand, pulling Skye back. Jiaying raises an eyebrow as (Y/n) murmurs something in Skye’s ear.

“We can’t stay - not if she’s here,” Skye’s eyes narrow.

“We’ll leave that choice to the two of you, but I have chosen to be your guides, should you remain with us.”

A slightly shocked look flashes on Lincoln’s face.

“All I ask is for a few days,” Jiaying goes on. “I’ll look after you, train you, watch you grow. And if you don’t feel a connection between us worth exploring, well . . . we never have to see each other again.”

As the woman goes on, (Y/n) has the strangest feeling like this was more personal then just training a random girl that happened to stumble into your home.

. . .

Jiaying and Gordon teleport into Cal’s wrecked room.

“I was right, wasn’t I?” Cal asks, his fists bandaged. “She’s here.” Jiaying smiles. “I told you I would find her, and I did.”

“You were right, Cal,” Jiaying replies. “It’s Daisy, our daughter.” Jiaying pauses. “I think you’re wrong about the other girl,” she goes on. “She doesn't seem bad for our Daisy.”

Cal glowers. “You don’t know what she’s done.”

Word Count: 8961 words

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