Text 19 Oct 37,008 notes

cleanse-me-acid-rain:

mischief-had-been-managed:

Don’t ever fucking tell someone with depression or anxiety that their feelings are invalid because you have no fucking idea how many times a day they blame themselves for their mental illness and already feel incredibly guilty and if you’re one of those people invalidating our illness then fuck you

signal boost this shit

((Always err on the side of caution. You can never know what’s going through someone’s head. And it’s OK to take care of yourself, to say I can’t help you right now,  but make it about you not being able to be there, not them not having a problem.))

Text 19 Oct 34 notes

cerasinusxmortem:

"Let’s," she replied, sweeping a hand out to indicate the woman should proceed her. She didn’t carry any bags; a wallet in her pocket and the various weapons strapped on her person were enough for her. "You do realize I’m going to try and extract at least one story in return, right?"

"I was expecting it," she chuckled, leading the way out of the locker room and down towards the street level. "Lead the way Herron," she said once outside, stepping aside to let the other woman get in front.

Anyil only answered with a smirk as she led the way towards the base bar. SHIELD, knowing its agents would need a congenial place to drink where they could babble about aliens and missions without alerting the public, had purchased and stocked a cozy bar. Some more cynical agents pointedly asked about the bar’s profit margins, but there were few more comfortable places to go for a chat. She was silent on the walk there, and got them both settled comfortably in a booth with drinks ordered before she’d start. “So,” she finally said, leaning gratefully into the cushions. “You wanted to hear about how I came to be an Agent of SHIELD, yes?”

Text 19 Oct 9 notes

fuascailt said: ஜ [if possible]

fuascailt:

anyilherron:

anyilherron:

She was loopy from the blood loss by then, giggling at the flurry of activity around her as her temporary partner tried to keep as much of her blood still in her body as possible. “Y’almost look like m’Father,” she slurred. “‘Cept he wouldna cared ‘f I was bleedin’, less he was gonna be in trouble.”

She grumbled some sort of imprecation, but it was lost in a wince. “Alrigh, alright, I’ll keep m’damn eyes open,” she grumbled, her voice stronger than two minutes ago. She tried a deep breath, hissing at ache, but the cold that shot through her managed to jolt her brain into some better semblance of consciousness. “Damn, that hurts like a bitch… how long ‘til help gets here?”

…Excuse you? Nero just kind of pulls his hand back from her cheek, like it was in danger of being bit off by the suddenty of the woman’s alertness… He actually chuckled at her. 

"Uh, uhm— Soon." You never knew with these guys, though.
 And as if my magic (pfft), help arrived in the form of screeching tires and loud emergency lights illuminating the whole alley. “Okay, okayokay they’re here, see that?” He was still pressing down on her now not so gaping wound, and he wasn’t going to let go until they pried his hands off.

Anyil raised an eyebrow at him, about to give a retort before the interruption of the medical team. “”Bout time. Get a damn glucose drip on me, stat!” she called out to the swarming medics, sitting patiently while they poked and prodded and did as she told them. She gave a sidelong glance at her rescuer, commenting briefly (but with more than a hint of amusement in her voice), “Didn’t they brief you about me before the mission?”

Text 19 Oct 34 notes

cerasinusxmortem:

Anyil took her time about showering and getting dressed; predictably, she emerged second. She joked to the waiting redhead, “Just because I am apparently a rotten egg doesn’t mean I want to smell like one.” She was dressed in SHIELD casual, and ready for a drink.

Natasha leaned against the wall, dressed in her own civilian clothes with her wet hair tied up in a bun. “Fair enough,” she chuckled, pulling a duffle bag onto her shoulder. “Shall we?”

"Let’s," she replied, sweeping a hand out to indicate the woman should proceed her. She didn’t carry any bags; a wallet in her pocket and the various weapons strapped on her person were enough for her. "You do realize I’m going to try and extract at least one story in return, right?"

Text 19 Oct 9 notes

fuascailt said: ஜ [if possible]

fuascailt:

anyilherron:

anyilherron:

She was loopy from the blood loss by then, giggling at the flurry of activity around her as her temporary partner tried to keep as much of her blood still in her body as possible. “Y’almost look like m’Father,” she slurred. “‘Cept he wouldna cared ‘f I was bleedin’, less he was gonna be in trouble.”

Anyil nodded obediently. “Yah, I c’n do that. C’n I sleep though? ‘m tired.” Her chest felt cold as ice, and she knew that should mean something, but she couldn’t quite place it. Still, her wounds were closing steadily, already shrunken and the blood leaving them a mere trickle.

"Good, good— No, no sleeping yet.” Please don’t sleep, please don’t sleep, please don’t. “They’ll be here soon, okay? Just hold on for one tiiiiny minute more, and then you can sleep.” Someone’s gotta come, he thinks, takes a breath and lets the air out slowly thought his mouth. It was a miracle he wasn’t frozen on the spot a few feet away, watching her die.

Having looked around to see no one yet, when his eyes lock on her pale face again he’s confused as to how much better she looks. “Hey..” he leans over, wipes his hand on his jeans and pats her face gently.

She grumbled some sort of imprecation, but it was lost in a wince. “Alrigh, alright, I’ll keep m’damn eyes open,” she grumbled, her voice stronger than two minutes ago. She tried a deep breath, hissing at ache, but the cold that shot through her managed to jolt her brain into some better semblance of consciousness. “Damn, that hurts like a bitch… how long ‘til help gets here?”

Text 19 Oct 34 notes

cerasinusxmortem:

Anyil nodded, a small smile on her face. “Sounds good. Give me ten to shower and change, and I’ll meet you downstairs. Base bar will do, though it’s gonna be their better drinks; I never drink the cheap stuff unless I’m trying to get drunk.”

Natasha nodded and turned on her heel to head towards the showers, she jokingly called behind her. “Last one there is a rotten egg.” The redhead disappeared into the locker room, quickly stripping and stepping into a shower stall.

Anyil took her time about showering and getting dressed; predictably, she emerged second. She joked to the waiting redhead, “Just because I am apparently a rotten egg doesn’t mean I want to smell like one.” She was dressed in SHIELD casual, and ready for a drink.

Text 19 Oct 34 notes

cerasinusxmortem:

Anyil snorted, walking over to the towels. “That was an estimate of how long it takes to tell, but if you want me to buy you a drink I can manage that. And my ankle’s fine, thanks; just wanted to give it a minute before I got up.” And that last was utter truth; if she didn’t say why she’d given it a minute, Natasha could fill in her own answers.

Natasha smiled at that, “I never say no to booze I dont have to pay for,” she told her, taking another swig of water before releasing her red curls from her ponytail and shaking it all out. She stood back up right and folded the towel over her arm. “Im interested in your story, anyway.”

Anyil nodded, a small smile on her face. “Sounds good. Give me ten to shower and change, and I’ll meet you downstairs. Base bar will do, though it’s gonna be their better drinks; I never drink the cheap stuff unless I’m trying to get drunk.”

Text 19 Oct 9 notes

fuascailt said: ஜ [if possible]

fuascailt:

anyilherron:

anyilherron:

She was loopy from the blood loss by then, giggling at the flurry of activity around her as her temporary partner tried to keep as much of her blood still in her body as possible. “Y’almost look like m’Father,” she slurred. “‘Cept he wouldna cared ‘f I was bleedin’, less he was gonna be in trouble.”

She frowned briefly. ” ‘F I cursed ‘im he’d hit me. Don wanna get hit. Might hurt.” She pondered for a moment, her eyes going farther away. “Rather hit ‘im. Don think I c’n righ now.”

Okay, well Joshua doubted he’d get through to her, like explaining she wasn’t going to get hit, not in her current state— But that wasn’t important as keeping her alert. “You will, soon enough. Just keep that thought, alright? Hey— Just keep looking at me, think about all those punches you’re gonna throw. Sounds good yeah? Yeah..” He gently lifts his hands  from the wound, just enough to be able to see underneath if the bleeding stopped, but jaysus… “You still with me?”

Anyil nodded obediently. “Yah, I c’n do that. C’n I sleep though? ‘m tired.” Her chest felt cold as ice, and she knew that should mean something, but she couldn’t quite place it. Still, her wounds were closing steadily, already shrunken and the blood leaving them a mere trickle.

Text 19 Oct 34 notes

cerasinusxmortem:

She was surprised enough at the comment to look up briefly. As there was a loose mat underfoot at the time, it led to her slipping and turning her ankle, tumbling down and turning it into a roll. She tried to stand but felt the ice flood her ankle (and the pain at trying to put weight on it), so she waited a moment to pull herself up. Instead, she answered. “It’s a rather long story.” She finally pushed off the ground and stood, looking up to meet the Widow’s eyes. “Hell, it’s at least a two-drink story if I’m gonna tell it right. I don’t want to bore you.”

She saw the agent tumble and offered a raised eyebrow as her form of showing concern. “Is that you offering to buy drinks?” she teased, wiping sweat from her brow with a towel. “Is that ankle alright?” Natasha asked, jerking her chin towards the limb in question as she started stretching to end her workout.

Anyil snorted, walking over to the towels. “That was an estimate of how long it takes to tell, but if you want me to buy you a drink I can manage that. And my ankle’s fine, thanks; just wanted to give it a minute before I got up.” And that last was utter truth; if she didn’t say why she’d given it a minute, Natasha could fill in her own answers.

Text 19 Oct 34 notes

cerasinusxmortem:

Anyil laughed. “That’s why we get experience.” Her words were getting shorter as she increased her pace, keeping smooth and steady; the warmth of her muscles was paired with the hint of ice threading through when her feet landed. “And yes ma’am, Army. Came from there to here.” She wouldn’t try to pull off a salute here; it would take away the efficiency of her motion.

Natasha nodded, she admired those in military service as she had been a part of her home country’s army most of her life, even if the majority of her work was done in the shadows. “Respect to you, then. What brought you to SHIELD?”

She was surprised enough at the comment to look up briefly. As there was a loose mat underfoot at the time, it led to her slipping and turning her ankle, tumbling down and turning it into a roll. She tried to stand but felt the ice flood her ankle (and the pain at trying to put weight on it), so she waited a moment to pull herself up. Instead, she answered. “It’s a rather long story.” She finally pushed off the ground and stood, looking up to meet the Widow’s eyes. “Hell, it’s at least a two-drink story if I’m gonna tell it right. I don’t want to bore you.”


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