shield agent || scrabble cheater

liza wells / communications specialist independent original character | semi selective & mutuals only | mun & muse 30+ | mcu-based, very crossover friendly | penned by katie, she/her, est.

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mains ;; @thetenthman // @alwaysxinxtrouble // @asgardianhammer // @untamedtempest // @vallorouslly //

Liza let out a heavy sigh, eyes falling closed as Alena’s words settled over her, loosening something in her shoulders that’s been tense all day. “I should finish…” She murmurs weakly, not really putting up much of a fight as she glances around at the paperwork. Realistically, all of this can be left for Monday, she knows. But there’s still a gnawing guilt at leaving so much. 

“I hate that I’m even upset about this.” Liza grumbled quietly, feeling a little like a petulant toddler on the floor in front of Logan where he was sitting on the couch, braiding her hair and letting her stew in her disappointment. “Job interviews suck.” She muttered, picking at her thumbnail and letting her shoulders drop before she felt Logan finish with her hair.

She’d been dusting off her resume and was actually excited about applying for this editing job -- working from home (or the library, or the coffee shop, or Logan’s) had been really appealing. But she’d absolutely tanked her interview, and had gotten the standard thanks but no thanks email, sucking all the wind out of her sails. Sighing, she turned and stood only for long enough to settle herself in his lap, resting her head on his shoulder with her nose pressed to his neck, seeking warmth and comfort and reassurance.

katie caught some squishy feels under the cut..

To say that the last three months had been an overwhelming whirlwind would be an understatement in Liza’s book. Her brother had died -- car accident, drunk driver -- and now she’d suddenly found herself with custody of Matt’s kid -- baby. Her niece who was now parent-less. 

She’d barely had time to swallow her own grief before she was handed a seven month old -- like they were throwing her in the deep end of a diving pool with no life preserver. The first few days had been okay, but then Abby wound up with an ear infection.

Then another. And another. One for each month that’d passed, it seemed, and Liza had started feeling like a failure. Like she couldn’t get this parenting thing right no matter how hard she tried. And she sure as hell was trying, but with no support from her friends (who really weren’t great friends to begin with, it seemed, considering they’d all ghosted her the second she’d found herself a de facto mother), and no family left? She and the sniffly ten-month-old snuggled against her shoulder were probably the two loneliest people in this hospital. Barely into my thirties and already I’m ready for a mid-life crisis, she thought.

A tired sigh escaped as she paced in small circles, the room she’d been plopped into with Abby not allowing for much more as she continued to rub soothing circles against her back. “I know, sweetheart.” Liza murmured, swallowing past the lump in her throat that felt like it’d been permanently lodged there since the cops had called her about Matt. “Everything sucks, but it gets better… that’s what they say, anyway--”

There was a tap on the door before it opened -- of course he’s obnoxiously good looking she thought before realizing how much of a fucking mess she probably seemed. Dark circles under her eyes, hair thrown into a messy bun because she hadn’t washed it in three days -- probably for the same amount of time she’d been wearing the same hoodie, but Abby wasn’t judging her looks… just her ability to parent.

She's no stranger to block parties and farmers markets, but smaller town ones like this are so much more charming than anything she’d been to back in the city. Liza's distracted by a vendor's rather shiny wares when she catches the way Logan moves to stand on her other side. Between her and the road. His hand is still resting on her lower back, warm and steady, and she can't help pulling her attention from the handmade jewelry to look up at him, a hint of a smile pulling at her lips.

Liza’s been battling the dread that’s been hanging over her all day -- ever since her dream two weeks ago, the murders… though what she saw was a massacre more than anything else -- she’s felt more on edge. Not like clairvoyance is something one can really control, the second she’d woken up, she knew it was something she wasn’t supposed to see. Paranoid that someone would find out, or that someone already knew, she’d put feelers out to some of her witchy friends and found protection in the form of Ronan, who was willing to keep watch and play bodyguard.

And he was good at it… but this feeling stuck, the dread. The fear that all of this was going to go terribly, terribly wrong. Another frustrating thing about clairvoyance -- she can’t force it. Can’t make herself see what it is that’s got her feeling like this. “Maybe it’s nothing.” She mutters to herself as she putters around her small kitchen, teeth worrying at her lower lip.