#I had it in my head that maybe I’d enjoy a lab one day

[iydiamartinx]

THIS MEANS WAR VII

Dick Grayson x Reader x Jason Todd

divider by: @cafekitsune & @thecutestgrotto word count: 4.8k synopsis: Gotham’s youngest neuroscience lecturer never planned to get tangled up with two of its most eligible bachelors. Both are determined to win her over—without revealing they know each other… or that they’re vigilantes. But when the Joker takes an interest in her, things get a whole lot more complicated. a/n: Ngl I struggled slightly this chapter, but I hope y'all enjoyed!

GOTHAM’S CHARITY GALA

You had no idea why you’d agreed to the charity gala in the first place.

You hated galas.

They were suffocating affairs filled with overly expensive champagne, smug smiles, and people who pretended their bank accounts made them saints. Everyone there wanted to be seen—wanted to appear generous, compassionate, noble. But it was all just a show. A glossy, expensive performance for a cause they barely understood and would forget by morning.

The rest of your week had been a blur. You’d been summoned back to the research center on short notice after whispers of a possible breakthrough with the experimental antidote for Joker venom. The work demanded everything—your mind, your focus, your hours. You buried yourself in it so completely that you forgot to text Dick back.

Every day bled into the next. You’d wake up, lecture, research, eat whatever you could find, then collapse into bed just to do it all over again. You hadn’t even remembered the gala until Anthony brought it up casually over coffee, asking if you’d found a dress yet.

Of course you hadn’t.

That was quickly remedied. You found a gown the next day—a royal blue silk piece that clung in all the right places, elegant without being excessive, alluring without trying too hard. Thankfully, you’d already written your speech weeks ago. All that was left was to show up, smile, speak, and survive.

Crowds were never your thing. But years of standing at the front of lecture halls and commanding the attention of restless students had toughened you. You gave the speech. You even got applause. And then?

Then it was just a matter of making it through the next hour before executing a flawless Irish goodbye.

Champagne helped. You snagged a flute from a passing waiter with a practiced ease, the cold glass soothing against your fingers as you weaved toward the buffet. If there was one redeeming quality about rich people—it was their taste in food.

You’d just finished fixing your plate when you turned, nearly colliding with someone.

Your heart jumped as you caught the edge of your dish just in time, the food threatening to topple. “Oh my god! I’m so so—”

You looked up.

Ocean blue eyes met yours.

“Dick!” you breathed, startled. “I didn’t expect you to be here.”

His gaze swept down before he could stop it, drawn to the way the deep royal blue hugged your frame. You caught the subtle shift in his expression—the quick darkening of his eyes when they landed on the dress. It was like the universe had chosen that shade with him in mind. 

“Wow,” he murmured. “You look… beautiful. That blue, it suits you.”

You felt the heat crawl up your neck and fought the urge to blush. “Thank you.”

“You never texted me back,” he said, his voice softer now, more intimate over the clinking of glasses and hum of chatter.

You gave a small sigh. “I meant to. I really did. But the lab thinks we might be close to something with the antidote. I’ve barely had time to breathe, let alone check my phone.”

It wasn’t a lie. You had been buried in work. Buried in pressure.

But still, the guilt gnawed at you.

Because the truth was—while your phone sat forgotten under a pile of lab reports and takeout containers—you’d also been quietly freaking out over the fact that you might be accidentally dating two men at once.

You’d meant to text Dick back. You just… got busy.

And maybe, a little, you panicked.

A slow breath escaped him—relief, not frustration. “Thank God. I thought I’d blown it.”

You smirked, tilting your head. “Not yet.”

That crooked, boyish grin spread across his face. “Lucky for me.”

You turned back toward the buffet, needing a break from how he sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach with just a smile. “You hungry?” you asked, more to distract yourself than him. “Because I’m staking claim on that last crab puff.”

“I’m more of a visual feast kind of guy tonight,” he said, still looking at you.

You shot him a look over your shoulder, feigning annoyance. “You’re laying it on a little thick, Grayson.”

“Am I?” he asked, following you to a quieter corner of the ballroom with two drinks in hand. “Maybe. But you disappeared on me for a week. I thought I had to make it count.”

You paused, that twinge of guilt returning. “I really didn’t mean to ghost you. The team’s been on edge—we might finally have something, and I just got swept up in it.”

“I know,” he said, and there was no bitterness in his voice. Only quiet understanding. “It’s one of the things I like about you. When you care, you commit.”

His gaze dipped again, lingering on your dress—on the way the silk hugged your frame and shimmered under the soft lights. His voice dropped, lower now, rough around the edges. “But I’m glad I ran into you tonight. I almost didn’t come… but seeing you in that? Definitely made this night worth it.”

You raised a brow, amused. “What—the dress?”

There was a slight pause. A flicker in his expression. His jaw tightened just a touch before he said, “The dress looks amazing on you. But I like see you in that colour.”

You tilted your head. “Why do I get the feeling there’s something you’re not saying?”

His smile returned, this time with a more wolfish edge—pleased, like he was enjoying a secret you weren’t in on. “Maybe I just have a thing for blue.”

You bit your lip, a playful glint in your eye. “Noted.”

Something shifted in his eyes then. Just slightly. The playfulness remained, but softened at the edges by something more grounded. “You know I meant what I said earlier. I know you’ve got a million things demanding your time. But I don’t mind waiting. I just want to be in the running.”

You looked at him carefully, studying the softness in his eyes, the quiet steadiness in the way he held himself. Your heart beat a little too fast now.

He wasn’t pushing for more than you could give. He wasn’t asking you to slow down or shrink yourself. Wasn’t trying to change your pace or compromise who you were. He just… wanted to show up.

To be present. To try.

And that only made the guilt twist deeper in your chest.

Because he was just so damn sweet. Kind in that quiet, consistent way that crept up on you when you weren’t looking.

And even if the two of you hadn’t talked about exclusivity—even if this thing between you was still unnamed—it felt like you were sneaking around behind his back. Like you were keeping a secret from someone who didn’t deserve to be kept in the dark.

You weren’t doing anything wrong, not technically.

But it didn’t feel right, either.

Not when he looked at you like that.

But before you could find the words to answer or worse spill your guts, he pivoted.

“How long do you usually last at these things?” he asked, a curious edge returning to his tone.

You pushed the fluttery feeling away to give him a dry look over the rim of your glass. “Depends. Long enough to make the speech, shake a few hands, charm a donor or two… and stick around just long enough to sneak a second helping of whatever dessert they’re hoarding at the buffet.”

His mouth curved. “Strategic.”

“Survival,” you corrected.

He leaned a little closer, playful but genuinely interested. “And tonight?”

You glanced at the glittering ballroom, the swirl of tuxedos and designer gowns, and sighed. “About the same plan. I was getting ready to dine and dash within the next ten minutes.”

He let out a low, amused breath. “Guess I intercepted your escape.”

You quirked a brow. “Is that what this is? A rescue mission?”

“Depends,” he said, swirling the amber in his glass. “You want to be rescued?”

You didn’t answer right away.

Instead, you let your eyes scan the room once more—the same painted smiles, the same tired performances. And then you looked back at him, at the ease in his expression, the sincerity beneath the teasing.

A slow smile curled at your lips. “I might be open to it.”

“So then…” he said, his voice dipping again, mischief returning to his eyes. “What do you say we get out of here?”

You raised a brow, wary but amused. “What did you have in mind?”

He leaned in just enough to send a shiver down your spine. “How about we go on that second date of ours?”

You took a second, letting the offer hang there, watching him—how easily the flirtation sat beside the sincerity. And how hard it was not to fall a little deeper into both.

You reached for your clutch, sliding it under your arm. “Lead the way.”

You had no idea what to expect as you slid into Dick’s car and let him pull out onto the dim Gotham streets, the city a blur of gold and shadow through the windshield. Streetlights flickered overhead in slow pulses, casting moving patterns across the interior as you settled into the passenger seat.

“I really hope you were telling the truth and you’re not actually a kidnapper,” you teased, shooting him a sidelong glance.

He smirked without missing a beat, eyes still on the road. “Well, if I were, this would be the smoothest abduction in Gotham history.”

You snorted. “Great. That’s reassuring.”

He glanced at you then, amusement dancing in his eyes. “You don’t seem too worried.”

You bite your lip and give him a gentle grin, “Maybe I’m beginning to not mind if the kidnapper is you.”

There was a pause. A beat of silence where your own words hung in the air—long enough for the both of you to register just how ridiculous they sounded.

“Oh my god,” you groaned, covering your face with your hand as a laugh bubbled out. “That was so bad.”

Dick burst out laughing, shaking his head. “That was terrible. You really tried to make that smooth.”

“Well, not everyone is as smooth as you, Casanova,” you shot back, grinning as you dropped your hand.

He glanced over, mock offended. “Casanova? That’s slander. I’m at least a few degrees more charming than that guy.”

You rolled your eyes, still smiling. “God, you’re insufferable.”

“And yet,” he said, eyes flicking over to meet yours, “here you are. In my car. Laughing at my jokes. Questioning your life choices.”

You smirked. “I’ve made a lot of questionable life choices. You, however, are definitely not one of them.”

That earned you a curious look. “Oh yeah? What was the worst?”

You leaned your head back against the seat, sighing. “My ex was pretty bad. And… so was my family.”

That made his eyebrows tick up, but his voice stayed easy. “Oh yeah? Me and my old man used to go at it all the time when I was younger. We were like lit matches and gasoline.”

You let out a dry laugh. “Brother, for me. We lost our parents when I was still a kid. It just… unraveled after that.”

His smile faded. “I’m sorry,” he said, quieter now. “I know how that feels. I was adopted after losing both of mine.”

Your eyes met his, and in that moment, something unspoken passed between you. Grief, loss, understanding.

“I’m so sorry,” you said softly.

Dick offered a small smile. “Yeah. Me too. Me and my adoptive dad… we got better with time. And I gained some brothers along the way that I wouldn’t trade for anything—even if they drive me up the wall half the time.”

You huffed a small laugh. “Brothers are the bane of any existence.”

But the smile didn’t last. It slipped, just slightly, before you looked away. “Yeah, me and my brother never got to that point. But… I met Milo and Anthony. They’re practically my family now. Best friends a girl could ask for.”

Dick caught the shift in your tone—the careful way you redirected, the weight tucked behind your words. He didn’t push. He could tell you were still trying, still deciding how much of yourself to share. And he didn’t want to scare that trust away, even if you had information he needed.

“Well,” he said gently, “I hope I get to meet them one day. And properly thank them—for pushing you into going on that date with me.”

You snorted. “You say that now, but they’re nuts. Be prepared to be shamelessly objectified by Milo, who is already talking about rating your ass. Meanwhile, Anthony will be pouring drinks before you sit down and somehow get you blackout drunk on fruity cocktails.”

Dick grinned, completely unbothered. “My ass is out of this world. I welcome the judgment.”

You stared at him. “You want to be objectified?”

“I’m just saying—if Milo’s going to rate me, I want that five-star Yelp review.” He leaned back, smug as hell. “Bonus points if he uses the word phenomenal, juicy, perfect—”

“Oh my God, I get it!” you laughed, lightly smacking his shoulder.

He shot you a bright, unrepentant grin.

“Don’t worry,” he added smoothly, “he can admire it all he wants. You’re the only one who gets to touch it.”

Your laugh caught in your throat for half a second—equal parts flustered and amused.

“Oh my god,” you muttered again, this time under your breath, as heat crept up your neck.

Dick just wiggled his eyebrows. “I’m just setting expectations.”

“Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves,” you said, rolling your eyes—though the corner of your mouth tugged upward, betraying your smile. “You’re just lucky you’re not bad company, Grayson.”

He shot you a lazy grin. “Careful—keep talking like that, and I might start thinking you actually like having me around.”

You smiled to yourself as you looked out the window for a moment, watching Gotham slip past—familiar, but somehow quieter tonight. It was easy with him. Too easy.

The car rolled to a stoplight, and for a moment the only sound was the soft hum of jazz on the radio. You glanced out the window, but curiosity tugged your gaze back to him.

“So…” you started, lips curving. “Are you going to tell me where we’re going, or are you just hoping I’ll keep playing along out of sheer boredom?”

He tapped the steering wheel idly with one hand. “Where’s the fun in giving it away?”

You narrowed your eyes. “You realize this is how horror movies start, right?”

He chuckled. “Relax. No horror. No creepy cabin in the woods. No surprises in the trunk. Just a solid Plan B for people who hate galas.”

You raised a brow, intrigued despite yourself. “Plan B, huh?”

He shot you a quick grin as the light turned green. “Trust me. You’ll like it.”

And oddly… you did.

You didn’t question him as he parked, or when he came around to open your door with a conspiratorial smile. You didn’t pull away when he gently reached for your hand, guiding you across a quiet rooftop entrance, the night air brushing your skin. Instead, you found yourself smiling—giddy, uncharacteristically so—when he stepped behind you and carefully covered your eyes with his palms.

“You’re really committing to this,” you murmured.

“That’s how surprises work,” he said, his breath warm near your ear. 

Surprisingly, you weren’t nervous. He held you steady, each step guided with care, and you knew—instinctively—that he wouldn’t let you fall. There was something grounding in the way he moved with you.

“Alright,” he murmured beside you, his voice low. “Ready?”

You nodded.

His hands slipped away.

It took a second for your eyes to adjust. But when they did, your breath caught.

A full trapeze rig stood before you, framed by a canopy of soft, golden fairy lights that glittered overhead like suspended stars. A soft projector spun slow, dreamy patterns of light across the floor—muted swirls of color like something out of a dream. 

 In the dim glow, a faded wooden sign came into view.

Haley’s Circus.

The space smelled faintly of chalk, clean rope, and wood polished with time. High ceilings arched above, draped in shadow, and at the center of it all—your very own private circus act.

You turned toward him, wide-eyed. “What is this?”

He stood with his hands in his pockets, watching your reaction like he was trying to memorize it.  

“Just a place I come to,” he said quietly. “When I need time for myself.”

You looked back at the trapeze. At the soft glow of lights. The hush of the space. The quiet magic that lived in the bones of the building.

“This is…” you breathed, eyes wide as you took it all in. “It’s beautiful.”

Dick smiled—but it wasn’t the usual flirtatious grin he’d given you. This one was quieter. Softer. More earnest.

“You want to go up?” he asked.

Your head snapped toward him. “Wait—seriously?”

He nodded once, casually. “Why not?”

“I mean, I’ve never even touched one of those before,” you said, eyes darting to the trapeze rig. “Is that… safe?”

He stepped closer, voice low and easy. “Don’t worry. I’ll catch you.”

You blinked, his words settling into your chest like a promise with weight behind it. He wasn’t teasing. Wasn’t just showing off.

You studied him for a moment longer, then bit your lip—half-uncertain, half-thrilled. “Promise?”

His gaze didn’t waver. “Promise.”

And somehow, you believed him.

He guided you to the ladder, steadying you as you climbed. At the platform, he helped you position your hands on the trapeze bar, giving you a few quick instructions—his voice calm, confident, just enough to settle your nerves. Then he offered a wink and climbed down, making his way to the opposite swing.

You watched him move with fluid ease, like the rig was an extension of him. As he began to swing back and forth, his body weight shifting effortlessly, you let out a nervous laugh.

“Who knew you were a circus kid.”

He grinned mid-swing, his legs pumping effortlessly. “My secret talent. Now are you gonna keep stalling, or are you gonna swing?”

Your hands gripped the bar tighter. “You’re gonna catch me, right?”

“I’ve got you,” he said without hesitation.

You took a breath—deep and sharp—and jumped.

Air rushed past you as you swung forward. Across from you, Dick leaned back on his bar, flipping upside down like it was second nature.

“Let go!” he called.

With a small yell and your heart in your throat, you did.

For a split second, there was nothing—no ground, no sense of direction, just gravity yanking you down and adrenaline surging up. Then—

Strong hands caught your arms midair.

He caught you.

You dangled there, breathless, eyes wide, your weight suspended only by his grip. The two of you swung together for a moment, the motion smooth and steady.

Then he looked at you and smiled. “Ready?”

“For what?” you asked, still catching your breath.

He winked.

Before you could respond, he let go of the bar.

You shrieked, the sound breaking out of you in a wild, startled laugh as the two of you dropped in a freefall, crashing into the net below. Your body bounced high, weightless for one giddy moment before settling. Another laugh—pure delight this time—escaped you.

As the movement calmed, you rolled to the side just as he rolled toward you. Your arm found its way across his chest, anchoring you in the quiet aftermath. Breath mingled. Laughter faded. His body was warm beneath your arm, his pulse steady beneath your fingers.

You met his gaze, heart still racing for a very different reason now. You bit your lip—less out of nerves, more to keep yourself from smiling too much.

“Hi.”

His grin widened. “Hi.”

Your body leaned in before you could stop it, and he met you halfway, your lips  met—softly at first, testing the waters. Dick’s kiss was gentle, teasing and curious. His hand slid behind your head, fingers threading through your hair as he deepened it, his body shifting closer until you felt the warmth of him press against you. 

Then, with the kind of grace that should’ve been impossible on a net, he rolled the two of you over without breaking the kiss, settling above you. He smiled playfully into the kiss.

A quiet moan escaped your lips as his hands skimmed down your sides, slow and sure. You arched into him, your own hands exploring—chest, back, the lines of lean muscle beneath his shirt. Your fingers drifted toward his waistband, hungry for more—

But then his kiss faltered.

Just for a breath.

He shifted, pulling back slightly, just enough for you to notice. You froze, blinking up at him wondering if you did something wrong. 

He sighed as if he was physically pained, forehead lowering until it rested against yours.

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” he said quietly, his voice rough with restraint. “Because, trust me, I really want to. It’s just…” He exhaled slowly. “These last few years, I haven’t really dated anyone. It’s always just been quick,, sleep with them and move on. And I don’t want that with you.”

You stayed quiet, watching the emotion flicker across his face as he spoke.

“I like you,” he said, softer now. “And I want to do this right. Not some quick romp in public on a trapeze net—tempting as that is.”

Your expression softened. A slow smile formed as you leaned up and kissed him—gentle, grateful, warm. “That might be the sweetest thing anyone’s said to me.”

He smiled, a little bashful, a little relieved.

“I can wait,” you added with a wicked glint in your eye. “But just saying—fucking on a trapeze net could be fun. It’s pretty bouncy.”

Dick groaned and dropped his face into the crook of your neck. “You are an evil woman.”

You laughed, threading your fingers through his hair. “And yet, here you are.”

“Yeah,” he muttered, lips brushing your skin. “Here I am. Completely doomed.”

WAYNE MANSION

Dick was still riding the high from the night before when he strolled into the manor the next morning, hoodie half-zipped, grin practically glued to his face. He hadn’t slept much—and he didn’t care. Not after that date.

He was passing the kitchen when he spotted Duke slouched at the counter in pajamas, sleepily shoveling cereal into his mouth. The newest member of the family, still adjusting to life under a roof full of vigilantes. After what Joker did to his parents, no one blamed him for being guarded—but Dick liked him. He was smart, grounded, and had a good heart.

“Morning, Duke,” Dick greeted, casually reaching for the coffee pot.

“Hey, Dick. Cute date from last night,” Duke replied through a mouthful of cereal.

Dick froze mid-pour.

Slowly, very slowly, he turned toward the younger boy. “What?”

Duke blinked up at him confused, spoon halfway to his mouth. “Huh? Oh—Jason and Tim were watching your back. Y’know. Surveillance. Can never be too careful with people in Gotham.”

There was a pause. One heartbeat. Two.

Duke paused, frowning. “Everything okay?”

Dick forced a smile that was all teeth and no warmth. “Everything’s fine. And… yeah. She’s cute.”

Duke gave him a cautious nod, clearly sensing the shift but not quite sure why.

There was a beat of silence before Dick spoke again—sounding way too casual.

“Hey, are those two still around?” he asked, sipping his coffee. “Jason and Tim? Just wanna make sure they didn’t catch anything… concerning on surveillance.”

Duke hesitated. “Uh… yeah. Pretty sure they’re still in the cave.”

Dick nodded once, finishing the rest of his coffee in one long, controlled sip. “Great.”

Jason and Tim.

They were dead men.

“Thanks, Duke!”

“You’re… welcome?” Duke replied slowly, brows drawing together. But Dick was already gone.

Coffee mug still in hand like the picture of composure, Dick punched in the code and descended into the cave—cool air rising to meet him, fluorescent lights flickering to life as he reached the base of the platform.

He spotted them instantly.

Jason was leaned back in a chair, boots kicked up on the console, chewing on something that looked suspiciously like leftover gala dessert. Tim sat beside him, hunched over a monitor with his usual half-dead focus, a headset slung lazily around his neck. They looked comfortable.

They wouldn’t be for long.

“Morning,” Dick said pleasantly as he stepped into view, voice smooth as glass.

Jason rolled his eyes. “Morning.”

Tim smirked faintly over the rim of his mug. “Surprised you’re even awake.”

Dick smiled. 

Jason blinked, eyebrows pulling together as he sat up slightly. “Wait—why are you smiling like that?”

“I was just thinking,” Dick said, stepping closer, still maddeningly calm. “How lucky I am to have two very thoughtful, very observant little brothers who care enough to watch my back.”

Jason and Tim exchanged a glance. A silent, oh-shit glance.

The smile dropped as he levelled a glare at them. “I can’t believe you two spied on my date. We had an agreement Jason!”

“It’s a good thing I was watching because you nearly broke our deal. You kissed her!” Jason fired back defensively.

“So did you!” Dick barked. “We agreed not to sleep with her—not that we couldn’t kiss her!”

Jason huffed, crossing his arms. “You were way more into it.”

“Oh, I’m sorry—should I not have been? Should I have called a time-out and asked for your permission?” Dick snapped, sarcasm curling sharp around every word. He huffed, shaking his head. “And what would you have done if there was some action? Called in the GCPD? Batman?”

“No!” Jason barked—but the beat of hesitation was just long enough.

Dick blinked, disbelief hitting hard. “I can’t believe you actually thought about it!”

“Maybe I’d take you out,” Jason muttered under his breath.

Dick’s eyes narrowed. “What was that?”

“Nothing!”

Before either of them could lunge, a voice cut through the tension like a batarang.

“Dick,” Bruce said as he strode into the cave, the weight of his presence immediately dragging the cave back into order. “What did you find out from her?”

Dick straightened immediately, his mouth opening—and then freezing.

Jason, of course, noticed.

A slow, smug grin curled at his mouth as he stepped to the side, folding his arms and practically glowing with glee. “Yeah, Dick,” he echoed mockingly. “What did you find out?”

Dick glared daggers at him before turning to Bruce, carefully schooling his tone. “I need more time. I can’t just ask about her brother outright—she barely knows me. And it’s obviously a sensitive topic.”

Bruce studied him with that unreadable Bat-stare, then gave a single, measured nod. “Fine. But don’t take too long.”

Dick exhaled, barely hiding his relief.

Then—

“You know her too?” Bruce asked, turning to Jason.

Jason blinked, then nodded casually. “Yeah. I’ve talked to her.”

Dick scoffed. Rolling his eyes and crossing his arms.

“Good,” Bruce said without missing a beat. “You look into it too. Better to have two people on the case.”

“B!” Dick’s voice shot up an octave as he whipped toward him, incredulous. “Are you seriously assigning him to this?!” 

He’d been banking on this case as the perfect excuse—to spend time with her, to ease into trust, to keep Jason away under the neat cover of intel gathering. But now Jason had the same damn excuse. 

“He’s already made contact,” Bruce said, completely unmoved. “We use the resources we have. We need to find her brother before Joker finds him first.”

Jason’s grin widened into a full-blown smirk. “Yeah, Dick,” he echoed, tone syrup-slick. “We use the resources we have.”

Dick’s jaw flexed, his gaze narrowing like he was weighing just how fast he could get away with a punch to the throat.

Jason clapped his hands together, “You got it, old man.”

Dick looked like he might actually throw something at him—batarang, chair, whatever was within reach—but Bruce was already turning away, heading back toward the elevator with the kind of finality that said discussion over.

Tim, still in his chair, popped a chip into his mouth and muttered under his breath, “This is better than HBO.”

“Don’t you dare enjoy this,” Dick hissed, his glare locked on Jason.

“Oh, I’m enjoying the hell out of this,” Jason said, practically vibrating with smug satisfaction. He leaned in just a little, voice lower, mock-conspiratorial. “Remind me what we said, Dickie? May the best man for her win, right?”

Dick’s jaw clenched.

Jason winked. Then turned on his heel and sauntered toward the bikes like he hadn’t just poured gasoline on a lit fire.

Tim didn’t look up from his screen. “You two do realize she’s probably going to kill you when she finds out about all of this… right?”

“Yup,” Jason called over his shoulder. “But its worth it.” 

Dick exhaled sharply through his nose, dragging a hand down his face. He didn’t even want to think about what would happen when she inevitably found out.

Right now, between him and Jason…

This meant war.

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[restinthewest]

Y’all ever get frustrated with yourself wondering why you can’t just be normal and enjoy social/friendly dog breeds because life would be so much easier if you did

[mercvry-glow]

Stay with me

parings. michael robinavitch x reader

warnings. age gap (michael early 50s, reader early 30s), traumatic birth, hospital setting, nobody dies, michael is mess and constantly stressed, other pitt characters, reader gets described as pale in a medical sense no mentions of outright skin color or hair type, let me know if there's anything else!

notes. this ones a doosey to make up for not writing for our sad boy! I love this and I'm happy I got to fulfill yet another request from you guys! I love y'all so much, and remember that all feedback is appreciated and to please enjoy!

wc. 3800+

Maybe coming into work at thirty-nine weeks pregnant wasn’t the best idea.

But you were stubborn. Always had been. And despite everyone—especially Robby—telling you to stay home, you couldn’t bring yourself to sit around waiting for labor like a ticking time bomb. You hated the stillness. The wondering. The endless scrolling and anxious pacing.

So here you were, waddling through the automatic doors of Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center like you weren’t a day past thirty weeks. Your badge still clipped to your belly, your sneakers swelling tighter by the hour, and your hair pulled into a bun that screamed "I tried... kind of."

“Seriously?” came Frank’s voice before you’d even made it to the nurses' station.

You didn’t even look up. “Good morning to you too.”

“You’re full term,” he said, falling into step beside you, black scrubs hugging his sturdy figure as per usual. “As in, literally any second now.”

You smiled at him over your shoulder, trying not to let the exhaustion show. “I’m fine. And I’m bored. Let me chart for a few hours. I’ll even sit down the whole time. Swear.”

“You know that’s a lie,” he shot back, snorting. “You’ll be helping lift gurneys and running labs by noon. Someone’s gonna find you chasing a trauma bed down the hallway.”

“Hey,” you said with a little huff, rubbing your back with one hand, “just because I’m growing a whole human doesn’t mean I forgot how to function.”

Frank just gave you a knowing look, which meant: we’ve all seen you trying to wedge yourself into the cafeteria chairs.

That’s when Robby appeared around the corner, clipboard in hand and eyes already narrowed. He didn’t even have to say anything—his expression screamed "Really?" Robby frowned, scanning you up and down. His hand hovered near your lower back, not quite touching but always close. “You shouldn’t be here.”

You tilted your head and gave him your most innocent look. “I’m on light duty. Promise.”

“I’d like to point out,” Langdon added, grinning as he peeled away toward the coffee cart, “that I tried.”

You plopped yourself into the nearest rolling chair with a dramatic sigh and swiveled toward Michael. “It’s either this or reorganizing the diaper drawer for the sixth time this week. I think the baby’s fine with me typing a few notes.”

Robby crouched down beside you, one knee on the floor like he did when checking patients, except this time his palm found your knee instead of a pulse point.

“You’re swollen. And your breathing is a little tight.” He raised an eyebrow. “How long were you on your feet this morning?”

“Like… twenty minutes.” You grinned. “That includes brushing my teeth and taking care of the dogs.”

He exhaled slowly, leaning his head against your leg. “You’re going to send me into cardiac arrest before this baby even gets here.”

You carded your fingers through his hair, soft and absentminded, brushing the strands back from his forehead. “You’re cute when you’re worried, old man.”

“I’m always worried,” he muttered. “Because you’re always doing something you shouldn’t.”

You didn’t argue. Mostly because he wasn’t wrong. You were already shifting, trying to pull up the electronic charts on the nurses’ station computer.

Michael gave your belly a light pat and stood, arms folding as he watched you with that quiet, hesitant fondness he reserved only for you. “Fine. Two hours. Feet up. You so much as sneeze weird, and I’m dragging you to OB myself.”

“Deal,” you chirped, already logging in.

“And don’t even think about stealing someone’s trauma case when we get slammed.”

“Define stealing,” you replied innocently, sipping from your water bottle.

He pointed a warning finger, but his smirk gave him away. “Two hours.”

“Love you too, Doctor Buzzkill.”

As he walked off, you caught the way his hand reached for the stethoscope around his neck, the subtle shake of his head as he glanced back at you one last time before disappearing toward the elevators.

And for a little while, everything felt normal. The steady rhythm of the hospital, the buzz of the morning shift changing hands, the rolling carts, the beeping monitors, and the casual banter of a team that had become a second home. You rubbed your belly gently, feeling a soft nudge from the baby in response.

Still here, still safe.

You leaned back in your chair and took a deep breath.

You had no idea how quickly everything was about to change.

The morning passed in a blur of keyboard clicks, routine charting, and the occasional pat on the shoulder from coworkers who either admired your stubbornness or questioned your sanity. Probably both.

Danabrought you a fruit cup and didn’t even bother hiding the fact that she was watching your ankles like a hawk. “You know,” she said while leaning against the edge of the station, “we’ve had patients come in for stubbed toes more dramatic than you being full-term and still here.”

You laughed softly, spooning pineapple into your mouth. “I just wanted one more shift. One more day of normal.”

“You’re due in three days,” she said, eyebrows raised. “You know what would be really normal? Not going into labor next to the trauma bay.”

You gave her a half-hearted glare, and she gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze before moving along.

By the time the clock read 10:47 a.m., you’d gone through two rounds of vitals checks, one baby name debate with the new ER nurse (“Mikey Jr.” was not happening), and an entire cup of crushed ice. You felt... okay. Tired, sure. Tight across the ribs, definitely. But okay.

The baby kicked again—this time a little stronger, enough to make you wince and shift in your chair. You rubbed at the spot, exhaling slowly as the muscles in your lower back pulled tight.

Normal. Probably.

You stood up to stretch, rolling your shoulders as your bladder reminded you it was still being squished by a watermelon-sized human. With one hand pressed to your back, you made your way toward the staff bathroom, waving off Frank’s dramatic offer to “escort the ticking time bomb.”

Inside, you braced your hands against the sink for a moment, catching your breath. That tightness across your middle was sticking around longer than you liked. Not a contraction exactly... but a pressure. Your reflection looked a little pale, a little drawn.

Probably just low blood sugar. Probably just tired.

You splashed cold water on your face, took a breath, and patted your belly like you were trying to reason with it.

“Let’s not do this here, kid,” you whispered. “Give me 'til at least lunch.”

The baby shifted again, slow and sluggish.

You frowned.

Back at the station, you tried to ignore the small twist of something off. Robby walked by on his way to check in with a patient and paused long enough to give your hand a squeeze. You didn’t say anything. You didn’t want him to worry—not yet. Not unless there was a real reason.

But deep in your chest, just under the hum of fluorescent lights and the steady rhythm of the hospital, a quiet unease began to grow.

You went back to your chair, sat down slowly, and propped your feet up on an overturned supply box Dana had dragged over earlier.

“Getting royal treatment now,” you murmured with a soft smile, stretching your fingers across your belly again. The pressure was still there—low and dull, like a cramp that hadn’t quite made up its mind. But you chalked it up to gravity. End-of-pregnancy things.

Michael passed through again, this time glancing at your chart on the screen. “You okay?” he asked casually, but his voice held that little edge, the one he got when he was reading between the lines of your smile.

“Yeah,” you said. “Just tired. Baby’s being clingy.”

He crouched down beside you again, resting his hands on your knees and gazing up at you like you were something fragile and wildly important. “You sure? You look a little pale.”

You shrugged. “I think my blood sugar’s just dipping. I’ll eat something real at lunch.”

Robby opened his mouth like he wanted to press the issue, but then his pager buzzed, pulling him back to the chaos. “Page me if anything feels off, okay?”

You gave him a thumbs up. “Promise.”

He kissed the inside of your wrist—gentle, a little rushed—and then disappeared down the hall.

You watched him go, your heart tugging in that quiet, familiar way. This wasn’t supposed to be dramatic. You were just going to stay a few hours. Get your fill of normal. Go home.

You reached for your water, took a sip, and then—

The pressure in your lower abdomen suddenly turned sharp.

Your breath caught.

It wasn’t stabbing, not yet—but it was wrong. Deep and spreading and foreign.

You shifted in the chair again, trying to ease the feeling, but this time it moved through your back too. A tight, radiating grip like something clenching from the inside.

Your hand instinctively moved to your belly. Still round. Still there. But... heavy. Heavier than before.

You stood up too fast and had to grip the edge of the desk for balance. A strange wave of heat flushed through your chest and ears.

“Okay,” you whispered to yourself. “Okay. Not panicking.”

You turned toward the hall, planning to make your way down to OB—just to be safe—when a sudden gush of warmth rushed down your legs.

Your eyes dropped to the floor.

Blood. Not water… 

Not a trickle. Not a few reassuring spots.

A pool.

Everything stopped.

You opened your mouth, tried to call out for someone—Frank, Dana, Robby—but your throat closed up as your knees buckled.

A pair of arms caught you before the world tilted entirely sideways, voices shouting your name, feet pounding against tile.

And somewhere in the distance, your heart broke open in fear as someone screamed for a crash cart.

The world dulled around the edges.

Voices came in waves—too loud, then too soft. The fluorescents above you blurred into a single long smear of white as you blinked hard, trying to stay awake. You were lying flat now, someone barking orders just over your head, hands pressing against your belly. Something cold touched your arm. A tourniquet? IV? You didn’t know. 

You wanted to speak, but your tongue felt thick and heavy. The baby wasn’t moving. Or maybe you couldn’t feel it. You couldn’t tell anymore.

Where was Michael?

You turned your head slightly, reaching out blindly with a trembling hand. “R-Rob—”

And then everything went black.

On the other side of the Pitt the hallway was loud, as usual. One resident talking too fast, an alarm going off two bays over. Robby had just finished checking vitals on a pre-op trauma patient when the words cut through the noise like a blade.

“Code OB! Nurses’ station—she’s hemorrhaging!”

For half a second, it didn’t register. He stood frozen, pen in hand, until Dana’s voice came from behind—sharper now, more desperate as she ran past him.

“Robby—it’s her! It’s your girl, it’s—”

He dropped the pen. Took off running.

The world narrowed to tunnel vision, his shoes slamming the floor with every stride as he turned the corner.

And there you were.

Lying on the floor in a growing puddle of blood, too still, too quiet. Langdon was crouched beside you, white-knuckled and pale, while someone was trying to keep your airway open and shouting at a med tech for an O2 mask. Two OB nurses had already arrived from upstairs, trying to lift your limp form onto a gurney.

“Move—MOVE!” Robby’s voice cracked as he shoved between bodies, sinking to his knees beside you. His gloves were on before he could think.

“Talk to me,” he begged, brushing a blood-slicked hand over your cheek. “Baby, come on—hey, stay with me.”

Your lips parted, but nothing came out.

He saw the blood again. The amount of it. His heart seized.

“She was complaining of tightness earlier,” Dana said quickly. “Didn’t think it was labor. She didn’t say anything about bleeding.”

“Placental abruption,” one of the OB nurses muttered grimly, already calling down to surgery. “We need to move now.”

“No.” Robby gripped your hand as they lifted your body onto the bed. “You hold on. You don’t get to—don’t you dare leave me.”

Your lashes fluttered weakly. It was the smallest thing, but it was enough to crack him wide open.

“I love you,” he whispered fiercely, pressing his forehead to yours as they wheeled the gurney away. “God, I love you. Just hold on. Please.”

The elevator doors slammed open, and then they were gone—your body rolling down the hall, trailed by shouting voices and the squeak of rubber wheels.

Robby stood frozen in the blood you left behind.

And he prayed—for the first time in years—that he wouldn’t lose the two people who had already become his whole world.

The observation room was too bright.

Too sterile. Too loud and too quiet all at once.

Robby sat hunched forward on the gallery chair, elbows on his knees, hands laced together so tightly his knuckles had gone white. His scrubs were stained—your blood, dried now—and he hadn’t moved to change them. It felt wrong. Like washing it off would be admitting something final. Like you were already gone.

The OR doors had closed over an hour ago.

Every minute stretched. He counted the seconds between every nurse that walked in or out of the room. Every ding, every beep, every sound made his chest seize like a vise.

“Dr. Robinavitch?”

He shot to his feet so fast the chair rattledagainst the floor.

It was one of the OB residents—a younger guy, fresh-faced, kind eyes. He looked nervous standing at the doorway. 

“The baby,” Robby said before the kid could speak. “Is he—?”

The resident gave a small, quick nod. “He’s stable—strong APGAR, breathing on his own. He’s in the NICU right now, just for monitoring because of the blood loss and delivery trauma, but he’s holding on great.”

Robby felt something like a breath stutter through his chest. A crack in the suffocating weight.

“A boy,” he repeated, voice cracking on the word. He scrubbed a hand down his face, the ache behind his eyes blooming all at once. “And she?”

The resident hesitated.

Robby’s stomach dropped like a stone.

“They’re still working on her,” he said carefully. “There was extensive bleeding. She lost a lot of volume and needed multiple transfusions. The placenta had fully detached. She coded once on the table but they got her back quickly—Dr. Jensen’s still in with her. They're doing everything they can.”

That familiar numbness swept in—cold and full of static. He’d seen this happen. He knew what these situations could look like. How fast they turned.

But this wasn’t just any patient.

This was you.

The woman who’d kept him steady when he didn’t know how to be. Who fought him and loved him and refused to be anyone but exactly who she was. This was the woman who carried his child, who still hadn’t heard that he made it. That their son made it.

“Can I see him?” Robby asked, quietly now, trying not to let his voice shake. “The baby?”

“Yeah,” the resident said, nodding. “I’ll take you myself.”

Robby glanced down at the gallery one last time.

“Hold on,” he murmured under his breath. “Please… just hold on.”

And then he followed, toward the small flicker of hope that looked an awful lot like a tiny newborn baby in a bassinet.

The NICU was soft with dim lighting and quiet beeps—worlds away from the chaos upstairs. Here, everything moved slower. Gentle. Careful.

Michael had scrubbed in without thinking, numb to the motions as the nurse guided him toward the far incubator. She was saying something—about weight, oxygen levels, bloodwork—but it barely registered.

All he could see was him.

His son.

Tiny. Swaddled in a sea of pale blue, a knitted cap covering his head, wires curling like vines across his chest. His skin was flushed pink, his breathing steady and strong, even with the tubes nearby just in case.

Robby stopped short a foot from the incubator.

“Go ahead,” the nurse said softly, nodding. “He’s yours.”

He stepped forward, one hand trembling as he reached out and pressed his now clean fingertips into the hole in the side of the incubator. Then he looked down through the clear plastic, and something in him shattered clean through.

“You’re here,” Robby whispered.

Not to anyone else. Not even to the nurse.

Just to him.

“You’re really here.”

His voice cracked. A tear slipped hot down his cheek. He swiped at it quickly, but it didn’t stop the next. Or the one after that.

“I thought we lost you,” he whispered, pressing his other palm fully to the side of the incubator now. “I thought—I thought I was going to lose both of you.”

The baby stirred slightly at the sound of his voice, his little face scrunching as if to acknowledge him.

Robby laughed—just a quiet breath of it. Barely more than a sound.

“You’ve already got a lot of fight in you,” he murmured. “Just like your mom.”

That cracked him open again. He dropped his head forward, resting it gently against the warm plastic as tears spilled freely now, all the fear and helplessness and love pouring out with no one around to see. No one to judge.

“She’s not out of it yet,” he said, so quietly it barely made it past his lips. “I don’t know how she’s doing….”

He swallowed hard.

“But I need her to be. You need her to be. So you just… hang on in there, little man. And I’ll hang on too.”

He stayed there for a long time. Just breathing. Just watching his son sleep, chest rising and falling with a steadiness Robby needed like oxygen.

And then—

“Dr. Robinavitch?”

A voice behind him.

He turned.

A nurse he didn’t recognize stood in the doorway, eyes soft but urgent. “They’re bringing her out of surgery now. She’s stable.”

Without knowing how long you were out the first thing you felt was the weight in your chest. Not pain—though there was plenty of that, dull and heavy through your midsection—but weight. Like your body had been filled with cement and someone was slowly peeling it away.

The second thing was the beeping.

Steady. Familiar.

A monitor. You’d heard that rhythm a thousand times, but this one felt… personal.

Then came the light. Too bright. You winced.

“Hey—hey, easy…”

A voice. Soft. Hoarse.

You knew it.

Your lashes fluttered as you tried again, squinting against the fluorescent ceiling until a shadow leaned into your frame of view. Hair mussed. Beard teased. Scrubs wrinkled. Eyes bloodshot but still such as deep warm brown. .

Robby.

He was sitting beside your bed, leaned forward with his elbows on his knees like he hadn’t moved in hours. Days maybe. His hand was already in yours.

“You’re okay,” he said quickly, blinking down at you with a thousand emotions all crashing in at once—relief, love, panic, exhaustion. “Jesus, baby, you’re—God, you scared the hell out of me.”

You opened your mouth, but your throat was too dry. All that came out was a rasp.

Robby was already up, pouring water and helping you sip from a straw with gentle, practiced hands.

When you finally managed a whisper, it was just one word. “Baby?”

His lips trembled around a smile.

“He’s okay,” Robby said, nodding, voice cracking as he set the cup aside and cupped your face with one hand. “He’s perfect. He’s tiny and loud and beautiful. They moved him to the nursery this morning but stable. Breathing on his own. He’s strong. Like you.”

You exhaled slowly, your body sinking back into the mattress with a kind of weak, aching surrender. The tears slipped out before you could stop them.

“I thought I lost him,” you whispered.

Robby shook his head. “No. You didn’t. You brought him into this world. You fought like hell.”

You looked up at him then, really looked, and saw the toll it had taken on him—the shadows under his eyes, the hollow in his cheeks, the scruff he hadn’t bothered to shave. He looked like a man who’d been holding his breath for days.

“You stayed?” you asked.

He gave a watery laugh. “I never left.”

And then he leaned down and kissed your forehead. Slow. Long. Like a prayer.

“You scared me,” he whispered into your skin. “More than anything in my life. Don’t ever do that again.”

You reached for him, weak and shaking but needing him close. He didn’t hesitate. He was there in your arms a second later, wrapped around you like a shield, like a lifeline. And for the first time in days, maybe weeks, you let yourself breathe.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed after that.

The pain meds kept you somewhere between floating and dreaming, and the monitors were a constant lullaby, but Robby never left. He was always there, holding your hand, brushing the hair from your face, whispering things you barely remembered.

But when the nurse finally came in, smiling softly and pushing a clear bassinet ahead of her, the world snapped back into focus.

“I thought you two might be ready,” she said gently.

You blinked hard, trying to sit up, but the ache in your abdomen stopped you short. Robby was already there, adjusting the bed, piling pillows behind you like he had done it a hundred times.

“Easy,” he murmured. “You’re still healing.”

But your eyes were locked on the tiny bundle being lifted into your arms.

And then—he was there.

Your son.

Wrapped in soft hospital blue, all fuzzy hair and wrinkled skin and the tiniest fingers you’d ever seen. He blinked up at you like the light was too much, his brow furrowed in confusion, and then he yawned—wide and slow—and settled against your chest like he already knew exactly where he belonged.

The breath hitched in your throat.

“Oh,” you whispered. “Oh, hi…”

Your voice broke on the word.

Robby was sitting on the edge of the bed now, his arm behind your back, his other hand smoothing over your son’s impossibly small shoulder.

“You made him,” he said softly, awestruck like he still couldn’t believe it. “We made him.”

You nodded, a tear slipping down your cheek as you gently ran your finger down your baby’s nose.

“He’s perfect,” you said. “He’s… ours.”

Robby kissed your temple and stayed there, his lips pressed against your skin as your son sighed in his sleep and curled closer.

You didn’t say anything for a long time.

There was just the three of you, tucked into a too-small hospital bed, held together by quiet breathing and trembling hands and the kind of love that doesn’t need to be spoken aloud to be felt in your bones.

This was certainly worth the pain. 

mercury-glow 2025

[cheeriecherrymain]

hii can you do a Viktor x reader where he has a crush on reader and everytime they enter a room hes in he gets all nervous and reader can tell so she asks why he is and Viktor just confesses to her and they end up kissing maybe?? Thank you, take your time <3

I am so full of writers block you guys have no idea OOF

---

Viktor x Reader

---

-You’ve been coming to the lab on and off for months now. You’d been invited over many times by one of your best friends, Jayce - multiple times now, in fact. He’d gone so far as to give you directions, telling you on several occasions to ‘just come by whenever you have time’.

-You hadn’t wanted to intrude, at first, knowing that he had important work he was doing: knowing that if you came to say hello that you’d spend the entire afternoon talking.

-But you’d recently found yourself free from the confines of your crappy old job, and you’d figured you might as well take the time to drop in. You hadn’t wanted to go emptyhanded, though, and had packed up a couple boxes of lunch you knew you’d both enjoy.

-And then you’d set out for the location written on a little scrap of paper.

-Jayce, as expected, had welcomed you with open arms the moment you’d knocked and poked your head in. He’d been even more enthused when you revealed you’d brought food.

-He had, of course, given you the grand tour of everything; explaining where everything was, and what certain tools did. He’d even explained a couple of the little gadgets that were laying about, letting you hold them and turn them over in your hands.

- “And this,” he declared loudly, stopping at the last part of the lab, “Is Viktor!”

-You watch, utterly perplexed, as he lays a hand on the shoulder of a man hunched over a desk. Hard enough that said man -Viktor- winces slightly, and sighs. You certainly feel for him; you, too, have been on the receiving end of Jayce’s strength.

- “I would’ve thought you’d start with the fact that you have a partner,” you gently chastise, before turning your attention towards the stranger. “If I’d known you were here, I would have kept my voice down so you could work. Sorry.”

-Viktor relaxes a little bit, some of the tension easing from his body. “It is no issue,” he says quietly, swiveling in his chair so he can partially face you. “You’re not the first guest that Jayce has brought around unannounced - even if you were, he likes to talk while we work. I’m used to background noise.”

-You poorly hide a snort of laughter at the behest of your friend. 

-He’s quite pretty, you think, subtly looking Viktor up and down. Sharp features and warm eyes, not to mention an intriguing accent and a possible sense of humour? You’ve only met him seconds ago, but you’re inclined to believe you’d like to befriend him.

- “Does he still have entire conversations with himself?” you ask, knowing full well you’re going to get complaints about your friendly bullying. “He used to get in trouble for it when we were in class, you know? Anyone who sat near him during exams would be privy to the answers, so everyone was always fighting over who got to be his desk buddy.”

-You lower your voice slightly, barely containing a mischievous grin. “Of course, he usually only got like half the answers right. Smartest person I know - terrible at tests.”

-Jayce groans at the memories, and Viktor looks up at you with amusement. “I feel like there’s more to this story,” he observes, and before you know it, you’ve pulled up a chair beside him to recount as many tales as you can about your school days and the kind of nonsense you’d gotten into.

-Very little gets accomplished that afternoon, thanks to your incessant chattering. But in your defense, Viktor never makes an attempt to dissuade you from talking, whether directly or indirectly. He remains engaged the entire time you’re talking, asking questions and making little quips.

-You still feel bad, though, for keeping them away from their work. Especially once you learn that they’re definitely going to have to stay late in order to catch up.

-As such, you decide to lend them a hand. You don’t know much about their experiments, but you can write well enough. You can run through the more menial and boring tasks, refining their notes and transferring them over into a more tidy format - leaving time for them to work on the things you’re not so versed in.

—

-It ends up becoming a regular thing. You’ll bother the two of them a couple times a week, talk their ears off throughout the day, and then help them through the annoying paperwork that neither of them like. You’re kind of like an unpaid intern, in your opinion, despite their best efforts to compensate you for your time.

-Over the months, your friendship with Viktor develops. You find yourself really looking forward to your days at the lab: of course, you enjoyed spending time with Jayce, but now?

-Now you’re excited about seeing Viktor.

-There’s something about him that just makes him an enjoyable person to be around. He’s engaged in your conversations, and he makes you feel listened to. Not to mention the fact that he’s immeasurably kind, good-natured, funny, smart, and has a mischievous streak that marvels your own.

-You find yourself confiding in him about more personal things: thoughts and feelings you wouldn’t even tell Jayce. Your fears about not being good enough after being sacked from your dead-end job, your unsureness about where you want to go with your life, the doubt you have of your skills and useful qualities.

-And he’s nothing but sweet throughout all your ranting, offering you comfort when your voice cracks, or a gentle hand on your shoulder when you get too riled up.

-He’s become such a welcome and constant presence in your life - you can’t fathom how you’d ever survived without him! Jayce is your dearest friend, but Viktor?

-You consider Viktor your soulmate.

-Which is why you’re so confused when he suddenly…starts brushing you off. Pulling away from your conversations, and canceling the plans you’d made weeks ago.

-You brush it off at first, thinking that he’s probably just busy, or having an off sort of day. Everything will be back to normal tomorrow, you tell yourself, as you pack up your things to head home for the night.

-But then the next day comes, and Viktor is still…cool.

-He barely even acknowledges you when you traipse into the lab, sending your cheerful greetings off. He keeps his head low while he works on his current project, not even bothering to look up and give you the smallest good morning.

-And then, when you try to ask him about what he’s doing? You know that he loves to talk about his theories and what he’s been making, and you’re so ready to ask him questions and get excited along with him!

-But he brushes you off. Again.

- “It’s not anything particularly interesting,” he says, not sparing you a glance. “I’m sure it would only bore you, if you could even understand it.”

-You don’t know how to describe the way his words hurt. The passiveness, the coldness, the implication that you’re not smart enough? Where had Viktor gone, and who was this stranger wearing his face? Saying something so mean to you, knowing that it’s been such a sore spot in the past?

- “Are…you okay?” you ask hesitantly, fiddling with the edges of your sleeves. “You’re acting kind of…I dunno. Weird. If something is bothering you-”

- “I’m perfectly fine,” he cuts you off, keeping his gaze trained on the little machine in his hands while he picks at the wires spilling out of it. “But if you don’t mind, I’m trying to finish this.”

-You nod wordlessly, turning on your heel to go back to your own workspace. 

—

-You have no idea what you’ve done to upset him. 

-At first you thought maybe he was annoyed by something - some event in his life that was bearing down on him and causing him excess stress. You’d thought that Jayce would have surely picked up on it too, on the days you weren’t with them. But…

- “He’s acting the same as usual,” your friend says, around a mouthful of food. The two of you are sat together in the lab, on one of the rare days that Viktor has taken time off (though you’re fairly certain he was forced to). “Why? Did something happen between you guys?”

-You deflate into your chair, hopeless and defeated. “I don’t know,” you admit, sadness creeping into your voice. “One day everything was fine - we were talking and laughing like we usually do, we hugged each other goodnight, went our separate ways, and…the next day it was like I was suddenly the biggest nuisance in his life.”

-You kind of hate how easily tears are brought to your eyes. You’ve only known Viktor for a couple of months - you’d had great conversations, and you’d come to care about him dearly, but…but maybe…

- “Maybe I came on too strong,” you sniffle, swiping your sleeve across your face while Jayce lays a hand on your shoulder. “I know I can be…a lot, sometimes. I’m chatty, and I’m emotional, and I…I get attached so quickly, I just-”

-You sigh.

- “I dunno.”

-Your friend draws you closer then, wrapping you tightly in a hug. It wasn’t often that you found yourselves having a serious enough moment to display your care for one another in such a manner, but at the moment, it’s needed. You sink into his grasp with a hiccup, allowing yourself to be squished.

- “Do you…like him?” Jayce asks then, breaking the comfortable silence between the two of you.

- “And I don’t mean as just a friend,” he clarifies. “You like him like him, don’t you? I see the way you look at him, and how you act around him - the way he acts around you.”

-You freeze.

- “What are you talking about?” you ask, squirming until he releases you. “Viktor doesn’t have feelings for me! He’s mad at me, remember?”

-Jayce finds his seat again, shrugging as he picks up what’s left of his lunch. “I dunno,” he replies, “I’ve never seen him act so soft with anyone else. Like, ever. His eyes get all big when you’re around, and he’s always talking about you when you’re away. He stares after you like a lost puppy, whenever you’re going on about something.”

-Your mind is swimming, with thoughts and anxieties. Going back over every interaction you’ve had since you met him, trying to remember any kind of sign that he’d been flustered, of all things.

-And yes, maybe he had looked at you with the utmost gentleness.

-Maybe he had hung off your every word, and craved your touch. Maybe he did consider you a close friend, as close a friend as you considered him - maybe you were the one who was indifferent to his feelings-

-Oh god, had he been dropping hints the whole time?

-Had you really been so oblivious?

- “Jayce-” you begin, but the man in question holds a hand up to quiet you, grabbing your bag from in between your chairs to hand it to you.

- “Go and talk to him.”

—

-Forty minutes later, you find yourself standing outside an unfamiliar door, at an unfamiliar apartment complex. You’re cold, and soaked to the bone, and your hands are shaking where you tightly grip at the strap of your bag. Even tucked under the awning while you wait for the door to be answered, the wind is still able to send a chill through you.

-You wait a couple dozen seconds before raising your hand to knock again. He’d taken the day off, and with the weather being so miserable, he had to be at home, right?

-Thankfully, right before you bring your fist down, the door clicks as it’s unlocked, and creaks open.

-A beat of silence.

-And then, “Hi.”

-It’s the most awkward word you’ve ever spoken, made even worse when Viktor doesn’t reply right away. He looks you up and down a couple times, his expression going from bored, to surprised, to concerned, all in the span of about three seconds.

- “What are you…” he begins, but shakes his head quickly, brushing the thought away as he steps aside to let you in. “Never mind. Come on, you look like you’re about to freeze to death.”

-You gratefully step into the narrow hallway that is the front of his home, sighing blissfully as the warmth from within immediately begins to soak into your body. 

-It’s awkward again, as you stand there, between him and the door - and him, with a hand hovering over you, as if he’s suddenly not sure if he should touch you. Despite the fact that he’d never had any qualms about casual affection before.

-You track his movements, watching as his fingers flex for an indecisive moment before he balls them into a fist, and shoves his hand down to his side. Your gaze flicking up to his face, where he’s most definitely caught you watching him. 

-The light dust of pink that begins to appear over his cheeks.

- “Viktor,” you say, softly, almost breathless after your trek through the city. “What’s been going on between us, lately?”

-His throat bobs when he swallows, remaining silent.

- “We were so open with each other, so happy, and you…you’re my person,” you explain. “And I’ve been going over and over every interaction we’ve had, trying to figure out what I did to make you not want to be around me - and I can’t figure it out. I don’t know what kind of mistake I’ve made, but…but can we please talk about it?”

-You hate the way your eyes well up with tears. “I don’t want to lose you. If there’s something I can do - anything, to fix whatever it is I’ve done…”

-Something in his posture changes, then.

-The stiffness that’s been in his shoulders for the past couple days, held rigid and curt in an attempt to keep you at a distance; it fades. He visibly droops, almost curling in on himself as his expression falls.

-And his hand, previously clenched into a ball, relaxes.

-Raises.

-Finds a tender home against your face.

- “I’m sorry,” he sighs, stroking the pad of his thumb over the curve of your cheek. “You’ve done nothing wrong - that, I promise. I’ve been- I realized- I-”

-He cuts himself off with a frustrated sigh, casting his gaze downwards.

-Oh, you think, watching as his face continually darkens to a rosy hue. So Jayce was right.

- “Jayce was right,” you murmur, catching Viktor’s face in your hands the moment his attention snaps back to you.

-You stay like that for what feels like forever, staring, quietly, holding each other steady while all the little pieces click into place. While his eyes go from sad and guilty, to curious, to hopeful, to content.

-A smile, spreading slowly across your features.

-The two of you, giggling airily at the absurdity of the situation, all former feelings of hurt now beginning to fade. Leaning closer.

-The softness of his lips against your own, miraculously warm on your rain-chilled flesh. Pressing so gently you can barely feel him, his hand slipping to the back of your head to cradle you most precious. It’s innocent, almost sickeningly sweet, and yet you can’t find a single reason to not be entirely elated, your heart nearly beating out of your chest.

-And then he pulls back, both of you grinning at each other like idiots.

- “You’re freezing,” he quips, pulling you closer so he can wrap his arms around you.

-You laugh.

[scarletgemstone]

scalene au songfic

(Scalene is seen holding a bottle of water in some kind of lab)

scalene “it happened one cold night a stranges blade and failed defenses (an image of ford is seen) I headed towards the light (she looks away and destroys the image) but I rejected its call and came to my senses (looks through a window) something tagged along and from time on our bond keeps growing strong “

(Euclid’s shadow appears)

Euclid “from the depths of hell I came alive (takes scalene’s hand) with the prettiest girl i helped revive but a formless shadow needs to survive had to eat a few souls from which I’d derive (dances with scalene) a body some features too all in the quest to help me love you can a girl really fall for a demon inside Guess you’re the Jekyll and I’m your Hyde “

(They stop dancing and scalene takes her husband to a book)

scalene “Euclid “

Euclid “scalene “

scalene “just cast their judgement aside cuz I don’t wanna reisde in a world where you don’t exist “

(Euclid places his hand on her cheek)

Euclid “I need you”

scalene “you’ve turned into my muse and I truly refuse to go on living without your kiss (they are in the past kissing) “

Euclid “and you won’t “

scalene “and if the price you pay to live another day just means there’s more to slay “

Euclid “a ways to go”

(A human is seen)

scalene “do what you need to do I won’t be stopping you I’ll help see it through “

(Scalene seen talking to ford and Fiddleford) (she is then seen talking to Euclid)

Euclid “got parts to steal and soul catch gonna need to make a portal then we’ll lure them in all sweet and nice (pulls a pie out of the oven and gives it to scalene)splice in a pie slice so they don’t think twice turn away if you don’t like the sight (takes her hand) but I know you might delight cause we share the same plight there’s nothing I won’t do to keep a girl like you so keep bringing on the souls and I’ll see what I can do “

(Scalene is having tea as she looks at a family photo and something brings to manifest in the chair next to her)

scalene “it’s true I fell for you and than I knew all the wrong I’d do for souls to make you whole a quid pro quo (Euclid apperes) for the love that you bestow so cast their judgement aside (they dance) cuz I don’t wanna reside in a world where you don’t exist (Euclid dips her) “

Euclid “and you won’t “

scalene “you’ve turned into my muse and I truly refuse to go on living without your kiss “

Euclid “your lips to mine”

scalene “and if the price you pay to live another day just means there’s more to slay “

Euclid “we’re almost there “

scalene “do what you need to do I won’t be stopping you I’ll help see it through “

Euclid “fords brains and smarts are a starte”

scalene “coat mane”

Euclid “hey there bud I need a part do you have a minute ms gleeful?”

scalene “maybe I’m insane “

Euclid “cuz you have something I just got a get “

scalene “for you “

Euclid “that juronal real neat dear sir plus your soul was so sweet and pure “

Euclid “then there’s pine tree’s book too”

scalene “Euclid I love you”

Euclid “now I got the words to say I love you “

(Euclid is whole and stands in front of scalene)

Euclid “we did it this is me “

(Scalene hugs him and kisses him)

scalene “Euclid your finally complete all the screams have ceased now we’ll enjoy some “

Euclid “silence

[reallyhatethiswebsite]

wip wednesday

thought i would do this since it's gonna be really hot again over the next few days and heat always makes me super sick (i wouldn't last 5 minutes in avernus lol)

for context it's part of a fic i thought to write since i felt like i didn't fully explore the Raphael-hunts-Tav request i got from a lovely person (and i also wanted to write something dark again since i am not good at it)

welcome to me writing mean and angry raph lol (tbh can't be sure if i will finish this)

thank you laura for labbing raph's dialogue with me ❤️

-

“Why would a power-hungry magelet with a chip on his shoulder abandon decades of ambition for some little bint he found on the roadside, when he could have hundreds – thousands of warm and willing holes to wet his cock with if he becomes a so-called god? Do you think you’re worth that sacrifice? Does Gale think you are? I’m sure he says lots of sweet things when he’s inside you, just as I’m sure he said the same things to Mystra, and we all know how that worked out…”

“Stop,” Tav begged. Sobbed.

“No,” the devil sneered. Utterly merciless. “It’s high time you faced the reality of your actions. You have doomed a future for the githyanki free from tyranny, you have doomed your friends’ chance to escape the emperor’s machinations, and you have doomed yourself, sweet pet, to reap what you sow – all for the sake of a man who rolled over you because you were the first woman in years to say yes. You wanted to enter my house without permission? Then you’ll stay for eternity.”

“You can’t keep me here!”

“I think you’ll find I can, girl,” Raphael rasped, malicious, quiet. His gaze flayed her alive, peeled away layers of skin and muscle to stare at her very soul. “For in this house, in this pocket of Hell, I am the master, and that means I can do whatever I want.”

A sick, bitter pill to swallow: he was right.

“Fine!” Tav laughed maniacally, the futility of the situation driving her to anger. “Fine, you evil bastard! I suppose you’ll have a pet squid soon, then. Have you always wanted one of those? Was it a boyhood dream, if you were a boy once? I hear ink stains are a bitch to get out of silk rugs.” As soon as she said it, Tav wished she had kept her mouth shut. She’d done everything wrong since entering that portal. Everything. Raphael’s shrewd yellow eyes narrowed as he considered something. Tav watched him raise his fingers, ready to snap, with dawning horror; if he did this, she wouldn’t just be stuck with him forever. She would owe him forever. A fate so much worse. “No! Wait! You don’t – I’m sure I won’t transform! It’s different in Hell, right?!”

“I’d rather not take the chance,” Raphael murmured, enjoying this moment of despair. “I’m not too fond of tentacles, you see. And besides…I promised I could be your saviour, didn’t I? Even though you hardly deserve it, but I’m nothing if not magnanimous, after all.”

CLICK. Such a small sound heralding a monumental, irreversible change.

Agony. The likes of which Tav couldn’t comprehend. Her skull splitting apart, bursting from the inside, her brains chewed up and spat out, eyes and teeth and tongue destroyed, sinuses burning…it only lasted for a few brief seconds, maybe, but the next thing she knew she was on her hands and knees. Frothy blood and bile oozed from her nose and mouth. Her body shook violently. Her head felt like it was full of water. She wasn’t sure, but she might have pissed herself a little bit. She stared up at the devil through bleary wet eyes and saw him watching her. Savouring her suffering. Floating in his palm was her tadpole, sluggish and covered in gore. Covered in her brains.

“Hmmm…I suppose I could have used less force for the extraction,” Raphael mused, unapologetic. He squinted at the ugly cosmic horror larva with disdain. “I was lead to believe these things were near-impossible to remove. Clearly not. Such weak magic. That worthless boy still has a lot to learn.” He curled his fingers inward and the tadpole caught fire, writhing and screaming as it died. Rendered to ash. Then he smiled at Tav, placid, almost business-like, as if he hadn’t just up-ended her entire existence. Her suffering had greatly improved his mood. “There we are. Now you won’t have to worry about those lovely guts of yours dissolving any time soon. Not before I get to sample them, at least.”

“I’d rather be a mind flayer,” Tav slurred quietly. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She felt hollow. Without that tadpole – as awful as it had been – she couldn’t reach her friends or even the emperor to beg for help. She knew they were pragmatic. They’d realise something went wrong and cut their losses. They wouldn’t risk storming this infernal psycho’s little castle to rescue her, not when the elder brain was so unstable and they were so close to vanquishing the Absolute cult, but at least pretending it was an option would’ve given her something to hold onto. 

“And ruin that delightful complexion of yours? Perish the thought.” The devil reached to wrap one big paw around her forearm and tugged her upright. Tav was too weak to pull away. She barely stayed on her feet. The room and everything in it swayed. Until it was forced to stop by his hot clawed hand holding her jaw firm. Raphael’s image swam into focus. He gently turned her head this way and that. He was examining her; examining his new property. “Can’t fault the magelet’s taste. You are a pretty little thing. And now you’re my pretty little thing.”

He pushed his thumb into her mouth. She could taste the sulphur and hellish magic even over the copper sticking to her gums and teeth. She bit him, tried to, but Raphael wasn’t phased. He dug his thumb claw into her tongue instead, pressing until he pierced the muscle, until Tav cried out. Fresh blood welled from the small puncture wound.

“Behave,” the devil simply said, like he was talking to a naughty puppy. 

“Never,” Tav spat. Raphael seemed to like that answer, if the sparkle in his eyes and his rich chuckle were any indication. 

“Oh, you’ll learn, my little mouse. One way or the other.” He dragged his thumb out of her mouth, smearing blood and spit across her lips. His pupils expanded as he looked upon her. He found this arousing, Tav realised, more repulsed than she’d ever been in her life. 

“You make me sick,” she hissed. 

“You have no idea just how sick I could truly make you,” he purred around a sinister smile, “but we have all the time in the world for that, don’t we, pet? Thanks to you, I’ve got a lot more work to do now. Plans to tweak, contingencies to set up, that sort of thing. I don’t expect you to understand, but unfortunately it means I won’t be able to break you in quite yet. But fret not, you shan’t be alone. Haarlep can keep an eye on you until I return.”

[agent-whiskeys-sweetheart]

Oxytocin (iii) 

Pairing: Egon Spengler x F!Reader

Summary: While looking for a new research assistant Egon finds you, a parapsychologist whose always wanted to be a Ghostbuster. Little did you both know that there would be a lot more than research and ghostbusting that would bring the two of you together.

Warnings: Some angst. Mentions of sex.

“Spengs? Come talk to me.” Ray prompted, tugging him inside by his shirt sleeve. They closed the door behind them, walking back towards the lab. “Now, I want to know exactly what’s going on here.” 

“What do you mean Ray?” Egon inquires. 

“Don’t be obtuse Egon. I mean, what is going on between you and Y/N?” This causes the man to stop in his tracks.

“Nothing is going on between us. Why would you think that?” 

“Come on. I’ve never seen you so happy in all your life. Something is different and I’m betting it’s her. Don’t think it escaped my attention that when I woke up you were both in the same bed.” 

“That was nothing. She had a nightmare. I was comforting her.” 

“If it had been anyone else you wouldn’t have let them into your bed like that. I know you Egy. Something is definitely different.” 

“I suppose things are different. In a way. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like her quite a bit. I enjoy having her around. She makes the work fun. Everything with her is so easy.” As he said this Ray tilted his head, giving him a knowing look. “But that doesn’t mean I love her.”

“Of course it doesn’t.” There was a certain understanding in Ray’s voice that did not escape Egon’s attention. “Either way you should be more friendly. She’s been in the lab for weeks and you haven’t even asked her to lunch yet. You want her to stick around, don’t you?”

The other left him to think for a moment, disappearing into the lab. God, of course he wanted you to stick around. He looked back towards the door. You were surely gone now, having hailed a cab to your apartment. He wished you weren’t though. He wanted you to stay. He always wanted you to stay. Seeing you leave at the end of each day was the hardest part of his week. 

Maybe there was something to be said for Ray’s observation. He had certainly been a lot happier since you’d come around. Every day was a new adventure with you and he looked forward to each and every one. Not to mention the feelings that stirred in him when you were almost hurt in the darkroom. He was so afraid for you. He didn’t know what he would do if you had gotten hurt. Then there was that night. With you in his bed. He hated admitting it to himself but god he could have laid there with you forever. Having you so close to him was like everything he had ever needed and wanted. When he had asked you about what you were going to say during the fire there was a large part of him that had hoped you were going to make some kind of confession. For some reason that would be so much easier than having to admit his own feelings. Oh god. That’s when he realized it. He did have feelings for you. Feelings outside of friendship. He was in love with you. How terribly inconvenient, he thought to himself.

Snapping himself out of it he finally followed after Ray, ignoring the overwhelming sense of love that flooded his brain. Despite everything inside his head screaming not to, he had decided. He would ask you out to lunch. It was the least he could do after all. 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Monday couldn’t have come soon enough. You knew that the event in the darkroom meant that you had to be getting close to the truth. Something was trying to stop you which was exactly why you couldn’t stop now. You had to figure out what was going on. 

When you pulled up to the Firehouse, you made your way to the lab like always. Peter was waiting for you by Janine’s desk, stopping you. 

“Hey kid. I heard what happened on Saturday night. Are you okay?” 

“Yes, I’m fine. Thank you Peter.” He patted your arm before letting you continue your path towards the lab. Once inside you saw that Egon was already hard at work like he usually was. You smiled. 

“Good morning. Egon.” At hearing your voice he perked up.

“Y/N. Good morning. I’m glad to see you. We’ve got a lot of work to do today. Have a seat and I’ll explain my process to you.”  You did so, scooting a chair over so that you were close to him. Pulling out his trusty notepads he began showing you charts, graphs, and plenty of examples of the current tests he was running on the slime. You studied everything carefully, making sure that you were completely up to speed before jumping into the work for the day. 

The two of you performed a number of experiments that day, working your way from one to the next to the next. You were discovering lots of important information on what positively stimulates the slime and what negatively stimulates the slime. Before you knew it, it was just about lunchtime. Egon stood up and stretched. You joined him, needing to get on your feet after several hours of intense experimentation. You were about to head outside to hail a cab back to your apartment when Egon stopped you. 

“Would you be interested in ... having lunch with me today?” He asked. The request took you by surprise.

“Sure. I’d like that.” You respond with a smile, walking back over towards him. He swallows thickly as you take up residence by his side again. “Where do you want to go?” You thumb your bag nervously. 

“Wherever you’d like really.” 

“How about Chinese?” You ask. This causes a small satisfied smile to creep onto his lips. You’re guessing he likes Chinese. 

“That sounds perfect. I know just the place.” 

With that the two of you head out the doors together, side by side, as you walk to a little Chinese place on the corner of the next street over. The walk was fairly quiet, however you both began to engage in pleasant small talk once you’re inside the restaurant. You each take turns ordering before finding a booth near the back. You sit across from each other, your legs brushing one another’s. You fold your hands on the table, eyeing Egon carefully as you breathe deeply.

“So, can I ask you something?”

“Anything.” He replies. 

“We’ve been working together for a few weeks now and this is the first time you’ve asked me to spend time with you recreationally. Why now?” You couldn’t help but voice your curiosity. 

“Well.” He cleared his throat, his embarrassment was very evident. “Ray brought it to my attention that maybe I haven’t been as ... friendly with you as I ought to be. I do want you to continue working with me and if that means having lunch every now and again then so be it.” His response wasn’t quite what you were hoping for.

“I see. Well, after today consider the obligation over.” You give a small smile, trying to reassure both Egon and yourself that you didn’t care whether or not he wanted to have lunch with you. However, you knew the truth. You did care. You cared a lot. You couldn’t say that though.

“That’s not what I meant. I--” He stops himself for a moment. “I’m sorry. There’s something about you that makes it very hard for me to speak sometimes.” This is probably the most heartfelt Egon had been with you and you were intent on listening to every word he had to say. “I do enjoy your company. It’s not that I didn’t want to have lunch with you. It’s just that ... well, when I’m working I don’t think about much other than the work. Plus we’ve been making such good progress. I suppose it just escaped my attention that you might like more of a relationship with me. Since we are coworkers.” 

“Right. Well, no worries. If you want to have lunch with me, I’m happy to spend the time with you. If not, it won’t hurt my feelings.” You were trying to be so casual. However as you spoke you internally cringed, hearing how forced your statement was. Something changed in Egon’s eyes as well. He seemed almost ... desperate. Needy. 

“I’d quite like to keep seeing you. Outside of the lab, I mean.” God, he was right there. Right on the verge of saying what you wanted so desperately to hear him say. Just say you’re in love, you mentally screamed at him. Just say you’re in love because so am I. Head over heels. I’ll go to lunch with you for the rest of time if that’s what it takes, you thought. Of course thinking was all you were able to do. 

“I’d really like to keep seeing you as well.” You assure him. Just as you’re nearly about to jump over the table to kiss him the waitress brings out your food. You sigh in relief, needing the moment to be over. You needed it out of your head so you wouldn’t do something you’d come to regret. As you started to eat you suddenly felt very self aware. As if you had already said something wrong. However, Egon soon broke the silence which you were very grateful for. 

“So, I’m thinking when we get back to the lab it would be a good idea to test if the slime can be destroyed. We already know it can be positively and negatively charged but we still aren’t sure if there’s a way to get rid of it altogether. I’d love to hear suggestions.”

“Well, we can always try to light it on fire.” 

“True although I’m not sure the rate at which slime burns.” 

“No time like the present to find out.” 

“Also true. If we’re going to try burning it, I think it might also be effective to freeze it as well. My hypothesis is that we’ll get a stronger result by freezing the slime however, there is something to be said for the use of fire.” You nodded, taking a second to eat. For some reason as you sat there and contemplated the slime and its effects, a certain memory popped into your head. A memory from a few weeks back, one that had stuck in your head ever since. Now might be the perfect time to bring it up to him. It’s just the two of you which has been the case less and less recently, Ray being around to help in the lab more.

“You know, there is one particular experiment that I’ve been interested in and as I understand it, it’s one that you’ve already conducted. I’m just curious if I might be able to see the results.” 

“Absolutely. We’re equal partners in this, you have a right to see any research I’ve conducted thus far. What was the experiment?” 

“I believe it was...” You’re trying to find the right words so as not to embarrass him however, you know it’s a futile task. “Sexual in nature.” His eyes immediately flash with recognition and he coughs lightly, surprised that you’d be so bold as to bring up the little comment Venkman had made a few weeks back. 

“Yes. Well I would be happy to show you my research but it was inconclusive.” You raise your eyebrow at him, sure he’s avoiding the request. He catches on to this quickly. “It truly was inconclusive.” 

“I see. Will you be continuing the experimentation to see if you can get a highly positive reaction from the slime?” 

“I don’t know. We’ve been making such steady progress, it feels silly to backtrack now. However, I would be quite curious to see how positively we can charge the slime with ... such methods.” 

“Well, sex does have a tendency to bring out some of the strongest human emotions. In my opinion, it might be worth a shot.” 

“Perhaps you’re right.” He turns his head away as if lost in thought. Now was your chance. If you were ever going to instigate things, now was the time. Some part of you knew Egon wasn’t very likely to get things started between the two of you. So it was up to you. 

“If you do continue the experiment, I’d quite like to be present.” Egon’s head whips around as he looks at you in disbelief. Surely you didn’t mean what you had said. Surely it was simply an obligation to science that had you saying these things. There was no way you’d actually be interested in sex with the man. However, he did love to imagine that it might be a remote possibility. 

“If that’s something you want, I see no problems with it. You’ve been instrumental in all the research I’ve conducted thus far. It’s only fair that you be there for what may turn out to be our most effective experiment to date.” You nod, understanding the implications.

“Let me know when you’re ready to proceed and I’ll be there.” You assure him. You were going crazy. The two of you were sitting here, talking about having sex with one another as if it was just another experiment. Maybe that’s all it was to him. However, something deep down told you he was freaking out as much as you were.

With that, the two of you finished your lunch in awkward silence and made the walk back to the Firehouse. Egon let you go early that day. As much as you wanted to stay, you knew it was best to do as he said. Once you got home you were miserable. You were so sure you had done everything wrong and now there was no chance between the two of you. You needed him like oxygen and at the present moment, you were suffocating. You needed to do something. 

Before you knew it your phone was pressed up to your ear. The number you had dialed had only been used on one other occasion but you were so out of it you’d do anything to stop feeling this way. 

“Hey Ray.” You said when he finally picked up the phone. 

“Hey Y/N. Is everything alright?” 

“Yeah, everything’s fine. I just ... would you wanna go out with me tonight?” There was a pause on the other end for a moment. 

“Out where?” 

“I don’t know. Just ... anywhere. I really just need a friend tonight.” 

“Well, why didn’t you say so! I’ll be over there to pick you up in an hour. Oh yeah, and Venkman’s with me. Is it okay if he tags along?” 

“That’s fine, Ray. But not Egon.” 

“Understood. We’ll see you in an hour.” With that he hangs up the phone and you set about getting ready for a night on the town. 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

When they arrive you’re wearing a nice button down and a pair of jeans. They’re in the Ecto-1, Peter sitting in the back so that you can have the front seat. You can’t help but smile when you see them. 

“Hey guys!” You exclaim. 

“Hey!” Ray says, ushering you into the car. 

“If it isn’t our favorite little lady. Are you ready for a crazy night out on the town with two of the interminably famous Ghostbusters?” Peter chimes in, making you laugh. You turn in your seat to face him. 

“I was born ready.” 

“Now, that’s the kind of thing I like to hear.” Ray speeds off down the street and your hand instinctively finds the handle of the door, holding on for safety. You had only driven in the Ecto-1 one other time which was when you had visited the museum. Ray drove pretty scary then too. When you turned back around in your seat Peter was giving you a pair of big terrified eyes and you nodded in agreement. 

“So, where are we going exactly?”

“Well, I figured we could grab a bite to eat. Then we can take a nice stroll through Central Park.” Ray says enthusiastically. 

“Sounds great, Ray.” You tell him, settling back in your seat and saying a silent prayer. Soon enough, you’re at the restaurant. It’s a little diner that you’ve seen the boys go to before. You find a decent place to park and walk inside, taking in the cute and quiet atmosphere. There is a booth in the far corner that you all migrate towards, sitting down and picking up a menu. “You know, I’m kind of sad Winston couldn’t join us.” You say, flipping through the menu.

“I can go give him a call! He shouldn’t be too far out.” 

“Yeah, sure! Let him tag along.” You say, prompting Ray to run outside with phone in hand. When he comes back inside he confirms that Winston is on the way. “Awesome. It’s been a while since I’ve seen him.” 

“It’s been a while since you’ve seen anyone.” Peter adds. “Always cooped up in that lab with the brainiac. No wonder you needed rescuing.” You laughed lightly. If only they really knew. 

“Yeah. Yeah, you could say that.” You say with a smirk. 

The waitress comes over to take your orders so you all get drinks, telling her that you’re waiting for another member of your party. Shortly after the bell above the door chimes, signaling Winston’s entrance. As soon as he comes up to the table he slides in beside you, giving you a hug. “Good to see you! It’s been too long.” 

“It really has. It’s nice to see you too.” Now that the whole crew is present, you call the waitress over and put in your orders. Once she disappears into the kitchen, Ray turns to you with a serious look. 

“Okay. Tell us what’s going on.” Wow. He sure caught on fast. Then again, you really weren’t trying to hide anything when you called him.

“Oh, it’s nothing Ray. It’s just been a weird couple of weeks.” 

“Tell us about it. We’re here to listen.” Winston had immediately caught on to the theme of this particular hang out. You sigh before taking in a deep breath, knowing you’d have to tell them something. 

“You know, as I was getting out of college there was nothing I wanted to be more than a Ghostbuster. I saw you guys on TV and man, was I jealous. You were doing everything I always wanted to do with my life. When I saw the ad in the paper, I knew it was my chance. My opportunity to step into a better life. Now that I’m here, it’s been a dream and a nightmare all at once. Everything is so perfect, like nothing I ever could have imagined. Well, almost everything. There’s one part of the job I’ve come to dread as of late.” 

“What?” Peter said, curiosity getting the best of him. 

“Egon.” 

“I thought you liked working with Egon.” Ray chimed in. 

“I do. That’s just the trouble. I enjoy working with Egon way more than I think Egon enjoys working with me. I’m just so--”

“Crazy about him?” Peter asks. 

“No. No, not ... crazy about him.” 

“Come on, kid. You don’t have to lie to us.” Said Winston. 

“I know. It’s just ... ugh!” You exclaim. “You’re right, Peter. The man drives me crazy alright. One minute I think that maybe, just maybe, he feels the same way about me that I feel about him. Then he turns around and says something that just reminds me he doesn’t. And today ... oh god, today. I’m so embarrassed. I said something I feel like I really shouldn’t have said and now I’m filled with so much regret about it. I mean, what do I do?” The others exchange a glance. 

“Look, Y/N. I probably shouldn’t be telling you this since the two of you need to figure this out for yourselves but let me just say ... you shouldn’t be so worried.” Ray tells you with a sly smug little smirk. 

“What does that mean?” 

“I think what Ray is trying to say is that Egon has definitely got the hots for you.” Peter explains, reaching out to pat your hand. 

“But, I -- How do you know?” 

“Trust me, we’ve been friends with Egon for a long time. I can tell that something is different about him because of you. He just doesn’t know how to tell you. If you just give him a little encouragement, show him it’s not all in his head, you may be pleasantly surprised by the results.” Ray assures you, maintaining that stupid grin he has on. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Positive.” Wow. Does he really like you as much as they say? God, you really hoped so. Before you could put any more thought into it, your phone started going off. Looking down at the screen you saw Egon’s number displayed there. Great. That’s just great.

“Speak of the devil.” You say, excusing yourself to the sidewalk in front of the diner. “Egon? What’s up? Is something wrong?” 

“Y/N-- I-- You--” He was cutting out so you couldn’t understand him. For a second you were sure you heard rock music blasting in the background. That couldn’t be right though. Could it? 

“Egon? I can’t understand you.” 

“Need-- You-- Firehouse-- Right. Now.” Just as you were about to ask what he had said he hung up. Huffing, you headed back inside. 

“Hey guys. I’m really sorry to do this but Egon needs me back at the Firehouse. I’m not sure what’s going on, he was breaking up really bad. I think I should go meet up with him.” 

“No worries. We’ll drive you back.” Ray said, standing and grabbing the keys. Peter slyly takes them from Ray’s hands. 

“You know what, I think I’ll drive this time buddy.” 

“Oh okay. Whatever you say.” With that you all headed back out to the Ecto-1, speeding off in the direction of the Firehouse. When you finally arrive you turn around, thanking them all for helping you before stepping out and heading in through the front doors. They watch you go before heading off again to grab something to eat. 

Once you’re inside you can hear what you now knew to be rock music coming from the direction of the lab. Your brow furrowed as you slowly made your way through the dark Firehouse, unsure of what to expect when you finally went into the lab. Stepping through the door, you see that everything is a mess. There are papers and things strewn about the floor, clearing off nearly all of the work tables. The next thing that catches your eye is Egon. He’s near the back of the room, lying across one of the empty tables. There is a speaker on the floor below which he’s resting his foot on. As soon as you get close enough you can see that he’s got a mostly empty bottle of whiskey in his hand. Oh no. This couldn’t be a good sign. Not at all. 

“Egon?” You say. As soon as he hears your voice he bolts upright on the table before jumping down and coming unbelievably close to you.

“Ah, Y/N. I’m glad that you’re here. Come sit down with me.” As he says this he turns the music off, pushing the speaker against the wall.

“Okay.” You say skeptically, sitting down on the couch. He takes up residence right next to you, his leg pressed warmly against yours. “What is all this, Egon? Are you alright?” 

“Yeah, yeah! Everything is great. I was just thinking about what you said today. About my little sex experiment. I think we should do it.” 

“What?” 

“You know, with the slime. I think if we had sex together we’d get a very strong positive reaction from the slime. That’s why I called you.” 

“So this is ... a booty call?” You ask, unsure of what else to call it. 

“No, no, no. Of course this isn’t a booty call. You don’t get feelings with a booty call and believe me, I’m all feelings right now.” 

“Oh. Okay.” You weren’t sure if you liked where this was going or not. It wasn’t that you didn’t like the idea of being intimate with Egon but you wanted it to mean more than just some experiment. Plus, he was absolutely stinking drunk which didn’t ease your mind very much. “What kinds of feelings are you feeling right now?” 

“What aren’t I feeling?” He laughs heartily. 

“Okay. Can I ask you something?” 

“Of course. You, darling, can ask me anything you like.” Oh god. Did he just call you darling? You were starting to believe Ray more and more as each minute passed. Maybe he did really like you. If he did though, why did he have to be drunk to act on his feelings then?

“Why are you drunk right now?” 

“Well, I am not exactly the having sex type. Don’t get me wrong, I do love sex. I just haven’t had very much of it. I just needed a little bit of that liquid courage to get me going. I’m only human, after all.” You took in what he was saying. You honestly needed a bit of liquid courage yourself to deal with all this. You took a deep breath. 

“I understand Egon and I’m very glad you’re interested in continuing our research but I think maybe now is not the time.” 

“What do you mean? Now is a perfect time.” 

“I’m kind of tired. I think maybe we should wait. Not to mention I don’t think it would yield any results with you being drunk.” 

“Oh. I guess I hadn’t thought about that.” 

“That’s not like you Egon. You always think things through.” 

“I know I do. Recently, it just seems like I can’t think straight.” 

“Why do you think that is?” You say hopefully. 

“I have a hypothesis but I think I’ll keep this one to myself.” 

“Okay Egon. Why don’t we get you up to bed?” 

“That actually sounds like an excellent course of action.” With that, you put an arm around him to help him off the couch. Once you’re both standing you stagger out of the lab and up the stairs towards the bedroom. You don’t bother helping him change into pajamas. Surely he’s used to sleeping in his clothes by this point. You pull back the covers for him, helping him into the bed. Once he’s down you start to head for the door but he calls out, stopping you.

“Thank you. You mean so much to me. I’m glad you were here tonight.” You can’t help but smile at his thoughtful words. 

“I’m glad I was here too, Egon. Sweet dreams.” You finally make your way back downstairs and catch a cab back to your apartment. When you lay down in your bed, your head is swimming with all manner of thoughts. Tomorrow was going to be a very interesting day.

Tags: @localsimpmigraine​ @theespookybitch​ @twinkie-buttercream​ @fizzyfazzy420​ @boneless07​ @holewithinahole​ @spengler-in-a-jar​ @the-hidden-pages​ @the-mechanical-angel​ @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @egonscalculator​ @sporesmoldsfungus​ @tedesquire​ @killerheelsonadiscodancefloor​ @emeraldborealis​ @bisexual-thoughtss​ @notquitecanon​ @finniestoncrane​ @lonelyridesinecto-one​ ​​@tinyvesselhearts  

[itsjustbell]

The Dive

Viktor x reader

Summary: It seems your feelings for your friend Viktor have grown into much more than you thought. When did this even happen?

This is literally just sappy drabble, just me gushing over Viktor. Too much time rewriting and editing--not nearly enough proofreading, but I'm trying to not focus on whether it's perfect or not. Hope it's at least comprehensible, haha. Enjoy <3

Love can be a lot of things. It can be a river, flowing constantly over and around obstacles, smoothing over hard edges, and even through stone with constant, gentle effort.

Love can be a fire. Growing from one glowing ember, with enough care and tenderness, to the roaring flame of a hearth. Strong enough to keep out the cold through dark winters and burning bright through even the most thunderous storms. 

But this… This had crept up on you, much like how sleep crawls to the insomniac. You couldn’t quite pinpoint the moment that you fell, only noticing the floatiness of sleep once you’d already dived in headfirst. One moment you were fine, and the next you’d somehow found yourself opening eyes you didn’t even realize you had closed. 

You’d known Viktor for a while now, enough to comfortably secure yourself a spot amongst the few he harbored as friends. This…fluttering feeling that threatened to choke you whenever he was around, like the butterflies in your stomach were trying desperately to fly out of your mouth in the form of some lovesick confession. Never before had you felt so strongly about someone.  Never before had you craved someone. His mere presence alone seemed to soothe your anxiety ridden mine, while also somehow increasing it tenfold at the same time. Even when he was gone, he still managed to force his way into your thoughts. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think you were sick– And perhaps you were in a different sort of way. 

Has he always looked that good? Had the sun always caressed his cheek like that? What would that same cheek feel like under your own hand? The amount of hours you had spent wondering how it felt to cradle his face in your hands and gaze into those striking amber eyes that seemingly glowed in the golden light of the evening, and to have them stare back— as if you were a star yourself? The thought alone was dizzying. 

It wasn’t just that he looked like he was hand sculpted by the gods themselves. No, Viktor was more than just a pretty face. He was kind. Sure, he might’ve seemed like some self-righteous smart ass when you’d first met him, but under all that he was gentle. He was understanding. He made you feel seen. Talking to him felt so… easy. 

Maybe it was on one of those late nights in the lab after a long day in your studio that you fell. Soft, easy conversations and eyes filled with mirth as you both exchanged wild stories and the kinds of secrets that only seem to come out when the lights dim and the stars are out. 

You’d had four cups of coffee between the two of you. He was telling a story from his and Jayce’s academy days. One of the student galas towards the end of the year. 

“--I’d never seen Jayce more…more, how do you call it? Ehh…” 

“Wasted?” You offered. His eyes lit up. 

“Yes, wasted!” He laughed, “He looked about ready to tip over– and he did, right into some poor girl.” 

You shook your head as laughter bubbled out from your chest. “I think I heard about that on the tail end of the gossip chain.” 

“Eh, I’m surprised you didn’t see it with how large the crowd was.”

“I didn’t go.” 

He seemed surprised at this. 

“I was too busy finishing up my final projects that year, I think.” You looked down into your lukewarm cup of coffee, now forgotten on the desk you’d been sitting on. “Wanted a perfect portfolio… plus I didn’t really have anyone to go with.” 

When you’d looked back at him, there was something in his eyes that had made your skin buzz. If love – or whatever this is, is a fire, then surely what he’d said after were the first sparks. 

“I’m sure that if I– If we, me and Jayce that is, had met you earlier you could’ve gone with us,” 

  Something about that slight fumbling of his words. The slight pull of his eyes before he looked back down at the machine he was tinkering with. 

"Yea?"

“Yes, plus… it would’ve been nice to have someone else there to deal with the aftermath of Jayce’s poor choices.”

And every moment after that simply fanned the sparks into the rumbling flame that lived between your ribs. The first unknowing foot into the deep end.

[edogawa-division]

ARB Birthday Special 2024: Yuriko Kuromiya

~~ December 22nd ~~

“Death is not the opposite of life, but a part of it.”

Login Lines:

“It’s quiet today…too quiet. I've forgotten something major. I know it. What on earth is the question-hm? Oh, it’s you. What is it?”  

“A gift? ….Ah. That explains the feeling I've been getting all day. Well, thank you. I do appreciate it.”

Voice Lines:

“Everyone is telling me how they can’t believe that I’m turning 36 years old and how I look no older than my mid-20s. I honestly don’t care for their words but I suppose I can’t blame them. I’ve aged better than most have over the years.”

“If one more person asks me when I’m going to settle down I’m going to snap. I don’t give a damn about this so-called “time limit” I have and how my window of having biological kids is getting shorter and shorter each year. I’m content where I am with no partner, plus Kaoru and Kanra are enough as it is. A newborn would only make my life more chaotic.” 

“I had planned on going to work today, but the coroner’s office called to tell me that I had the day off since it was my birthday. I’m afraid I’m unsure what to do today with all this free time. I’m used to being constantly busy one way or another. It’s quite an odd feeling.”

“Father…I wish you were still here some days. I’ve long made peace with your death, but sometimes I wonder what could’ve been. I’m sure you would've enjoyed meeting those two gremlins I call daughters. Perhaps you could have taught them a trick or two.”

“Are you still singing that song, Kaoru? Uh-huh…and how many times have you seen “Wicked” since it came out? I can’t believe you would…no actually, I can believe you would do that. We’ll talk about your new obsession later, but speaking of gifts, what do you have for me this year? I want to hope that it’s nothing insane but knowing you I shouldn’t expect that.” 

“This is surprisingly tame for you, Kaoru. Oh no, what did you do to it? Dammit, I knew I should’ve expected another deranged gift from you. Only you would think to coat a person's nail in a dangerous fatal poison Kaoru. One question, though, why green? Why not black or violet? The colors I normally wear. Kaoru…stop watching “Wicked” I beg of you. *sighs* …There she goes, I truly can’t with her sometimes.” 

“Hello there, Kanra. Your gift wouldn’t happen to be as manic as Kaoru’s would it? Just a touch, dear. I love her but sometimes I wonder if she was dropped on her head as a baby. *snorts* Can’t lose what was never truly there. Oh, you should know I’d love any gift from you Kanra. You’re my sweet girl after all. ” 

“I’m an albino Kanra I can’t help that light and I do not mix but it is a lovely gift. It’ll be especially helpful in the summer so I don’t burn. Just thinking about that time makes me wish it could stay winter forever. Oh, hush you we all have our preferences. Yes yes, lead the way dear. Your cakes are to die for.”

Kaoru Lines:

“Popular~! You’re gonna be popular~! Sorry! It’s just really catchy even if I like Elphaba over Glinda. Just 2 okay maybe…22 times. It’s such a good movie you wouldn’t understand, but enough about that, it’s your special day! Happy birthday, Yuriko! I got you a little gift to celebrate! So here! Hope you enjoy it!”   

“Oh, you should know by now, Yuriko, that I’d give you something more than some simple nail polish. First, I made it myself, and second, it contains a deadly fast-action poison that'll kill anyone in minutes if you scratch them. Hm? Why green? Oh, I got the idea after seeing Elphaba’s nails. Like they’re such a stunning shade of green, and your nails are pretty long, so I thought it was perfect. Nope, I'm riding this obsession until the very end, Yuriko! Anyway, I’m off to recreate Glinda’s bubble now since I’m done with Elphaba’s broom! Bye!” 

Kanra Lines:

“Happy Birthday, Yuriko-san! Did Kaoru go crazy with her gift again? Sounds like her and it doesn’t help that I heard her laughing from her lab all week. I think she’s finally losing her sanity. If it makes you feel better my gift is way more tame than hers. It’s not much but I think you get better use out of it than Kaoru’s.” 

“I know you don’t like the sun or any type of light, actually, so I thought you’d like a parasol. Considering how you burn in the summer sun I can’t blame you for not liking the season but stay in winter? It’s too cold for me. I already sleep with 4 blankets. Hehehe yeah, I like spring more. Now come on! I have your cake already made and it’s tea-flavored too! So hurry up!”  

[sl-newsie]

Query: Q x 00 Agent- Ch. 3: Whatever It Takes

The next day I have to head back to MI6 for one last training session, where I run into Bond.

“You’re off to Hong Kong now?” I pant as I dab my sweaty face off.

Bond gives a stiff nod. “And you, little Levie, are off to Ireland. I’m guessing Q treated you well, Mrs. White?”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Haha, very funny. Did you think I’d like him because he’s younger?”

The older agent simply shrugs and the gleam in his eye is undisguisable.

“Bravo, Bond. You’ve still got a sense of humor.”

We keep walking to the office space in a comfortable silence. “Joking aside, congratulations on your first solo mission,” Bond says sincerely. “It’s a big moment for you. Still, I’ll be sad to not have you with me. You’re one of my favorite partners.”

I playfully punch his shoulder. “Because I keep your ego in check?”

“Because you’re the only one I treat like a sister.”

I grin. “Aw. Big brother’s going to miss me.”

Once we’ve gotten to the office center we both spot Q, Eve, and M waiting for us.

“Say goodbye, Bond.” M instructs. “This may be the last time you two see each other.”

Bond and I exchange looks. I must say I am nervous about being on my own, but Bond’s prepared me well.

“Good luck, Bond. The whole force is counting on you, no pressure.”

“Goodbye, Levie.” Bond gives my hand a sturdy shake. “You don’t need luck, because I know you’ll do brilliant. You’re still young, but healthily spirited. Just don’t let your heart get in the way.”

With that, he follows M down the hall and for the first time we go our separate ways. 

“Is he still mad at me for shooting him?” Eve asks.

“Hasn’t mentioned it, at least not to me. But I do know one thing:” I look up with a slightly defiant demeanor. “If I had been on that mission with Bond, I would have jumped off that bridge after him. I don’t care what M says, I don’t leave a man behind.” I look at Q and ask: “When do I leave for Ireland?”

“In one hour. I will quickly brief you on a few last minute updates on your way to the airport.”

“You won't be accompanying me, husband?” I bring up the repeating joke as we start walking out.

It either flies over his head or he ignores it. “I don’t like flying.”

“It’s rather accelerating,” I comment as we enter a company SUV. “You should try it again. It makes you think.”

Q sets his face straight and begins looking through some paper files in his bag. “I can do much better thinking at home with my cats.”

Huh. Nerd guy who sits at a computer desk with cats. Who knew?

“You seem like a cat person. I respect that.”

Q accepts my statement with a small grin. “At least there’s one person who does.”

The quick trip through the airport flashes by, and soon enough I’m seated in first class and headed off to Ireland. From what Q tells me, I am to penetrate a secret lab and retrieve a formula for a new type of cyanide. Not as extreme as Bond’s assignment, but I’m still excited. Over the flight, Q apparently took the liberty of placing a few audio books in my bag.

“Hello, 0011. Or Levie, as Bond called you. I still prefer Mrs. White. I’ve recorded a few history books to entertain you for the duration of your flight, because I picture you as more of a history fan rather than a science geek such as myself. Your options are: The American Revolution, World War II, or the Spanish Civil War.”

I chose World War II and am surprised to find that I actually enjoy Q lecturing about history. Something about his voice makes it seem like a hobby rather than a chore. Maybe it’s because he’s younger? Why am I becoming friends with my Quartermaster?

In an hour I arrive in Dublin and meet up with my contact at a local pub called The Cobblestone. He’s a local Paddy with a thick accent, who tells me that the best way for me to sneak into the lab is through the sewer tunnels much to my distaste.

“What I’m wondering is why a lass like you is charged with this mission,” the man thinks out loud.

I down the whiskey I’ve ordered and narrow my eyes. “Don’t underestimate a 00 agent.”

Nighttime falls and my nerves are a jumbled mess. Unlike Bond I don’t always dress in fancy attire for missions. Instead I’m sporting a long-sleeved black jumpsuit with dress flats. Less stylish, but effective. I station myself a few yards from the sewer entrance outside the lab. After I put in my earpiece both M and Q’s voices ring in my ear.

“Voice check, please,” Q requests.

“Good evening lady and gentleman. Tonight’s forecast calls for one 00 agent and the loss of one cyanide formula. Possible celebration may be sighted in the morning.”

“Very cute,” Q replies dryly. “I expect you’re dressed for the occasion?”

I smirk from behind the tree I’m using to hide. “Wouldn’t you like to know, dear?”

“Can we cut the jibber jabber and focus?” M states harshly. “0011, are you in position?”

My agent instincts kick in and I stiffen up. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. You are clear to proceed.”

Thankfully the sewer entrance doors aren’t locked, but I wish it didn’t smell so putrid. It seems luck is on my side because there are no lights to expose my location. However there is one security camera.

“Q, I’d very much appreciate it if you could disable the camera.”

On the other end I hear the nerd chuckle. “Oh? I thought you liked drawing attention to yourself.”

“Just kill the bloody camera!”

He does so without another word and soon the blinking light on the camera dies. I keep scrolling through the checklist in my mind of everything I need to accomplish, deciding that I can continue on. Once I scale down the ladder into the inky darkness I switch on my night vision contact lenses. I have a few rat friends to accompany me but other than that there’s no security here. 

“Now go to your right for about 50 paces, then turn left,” Q voices in my ear.

“0011, there appears to be a maximum of only 5 guards in the area you will be infiltrating,” M adds. 

Only 5? Bond and I have a record of taking out 50 in 10 minutes. But a rookie mission is a rookie mission.

Now I’ve arrived at a small door. Still no sign of trouble.

“This leads to the boiler room,” Q informs. “No human heat signatures detected.”

There’s just one problem: the door’s lock is far beyond crackable. Normally Bond is the one for cracking locks while I stand watch, but it’s time to be adaptable. Somewhere in my pocket- I think there’s…

“0011, what’s taking so long?” M asks.

“Trying to bust the lock. Ever heard of liquid nitrogen?”

I take out a small vial and tilt it to apply the cold substance over the lock. After a few moments the metal freezes over, and after a hard kick it shatters to the floor.

“All done.”

I burst through the door holding my pistol and search for any threats in the boiler room. Only a few leaky faucets. 

“We can’t scramble all the cameras in the building. You should be on their radar now. If anyone asks, you are here for an appointment with Dr. Lambert,” M says. “Mention Project Ares.”

“Seems like a rather late appointment,” I comment as I make my way up the stairs and out of the room. “Where to now?”

Q speaks up. “Turn left, then take the elevator to the 5th level.”

Right as rain, the elevator is right down the hall. Unfortunately I’m not the only one riding it. There’s one older man and a younger woman who appears to be a secretary.

“Going up?” The woman asks.

“Yes, please.”

I hope for there to be no conversation on our ascent but am proven unlucky.

“That’s a lovely necklace,” the man comments.

“Thank you. It’s a gift from my husband.” I finger the blue pendant, letting it comfort my nerves.

"You're not wearing a ring?"

"I'm afraid I lost it a few weeks ago."

“Where do you work?” the secretary inquires.

I keep a steady smile. “I don’t work here. I’m visiting on account of my boss to visit Dr. Lambert.”

This surprises the older man. “Really? I didn’t think Norman took appointments this late.”

“It’s a special case. For Project Ares.”

This quiets both people and we ride the rest of the way in silence. Obviously Project Ares is a big deal. The elevator drops me off at the 5th floor and I give a wave goodbye to the two employees. 

“I’m on the 5th level.”

“Good. Now go straight until you see a door marked X,” Q says.

I walk a few feet down and sure enough there’s a door with a large X on the front. You’d think this project would be hidden better. This lock may pose another issue because it’s activated by a fingerprint-

“Miss? What are you doing here?” A voice asks.

I keep my cool and pivot to find a man in a lab coat walking towards me. He looks to be in his mid-thirties, with light brown hair and a little stubble. Must be a scientist.

“Ah, yes. I was looking for Dr. Lambert. It’s about Project Ares.”

The man’s face lights up. “You must be the reporter! Yes yes, come in!”

He strides past me and swipes a card to open the door, gesturing for me to follow him. This seems too easy. The room I enter is obviously a lab, one filled with many different vials and chemistry equipment.

“Are you in?” M asks in my ear.

“I had a little help,” I whisper to keep discreet from the man behind me. “What am I looking for?”

“A test tube full of the new formula,” Q says. “Any amount of a sample. Who helped you in?”

“One of the project scientists. He thinks I’m a reporter.”

“Over here!” The man in question beckons me over to a table that displays a rack of test tubes. “My name is Watson, by the way. Daniel Watson in case you’re going to include me. But I don’t care for fame, I only want to help with the progress of science.”

Aw. I’m beginning to feel sad for stealing from you.

“Is this the new cyanide formula I heard about?” I try to sound unbearably dumb.

“Indeed it is! This is our company’s most recent accomplishment, one we boys in the lab are extremely proud of. Its symptoms are quick to take over the body’s cardiovascular system and can go undetected through drug screens.”

Thank God I have a pencil and small pad of paper in my pocket so I actually look like a reporter. I write down all highlights of his lecture while side-eyeing the tubes within an arm's reach. So close! 

“Do you have any other questions?”

I zoom back to focus on Watson, trying to think of a way to sneak a vial… What would Bond do? Huh. There’s no question about what he would do. Whatever it takes to make them lower their guard.

“No, I don’t think so,” I use a more airy voice as I bat my eyelashes at the scientist. “Thank you so much, Watson! My boss will love hearing about this!” I put away my pad of paper and saunter over to the blushing man. “How can I ever repay the favor?”

He shakes his head frantically. “No, that’s not necessary. Achievement through science is it’s own reward.”

Now I’ve got him trapped against the counter. “That’s not always enough. Maybe just one kiss?”

Before he can decline I press a firm kiss to his lips, rendering him speechless. In a split-second I look to see that he has his eyes closed, right as I slip a vial into my chest pocket. When I pull away, Watson still can’t find words to say.

“Thanks again, Watson!” I wave as I strut out. “Q, M, I have it. Ready for a quick exit before they ring the alarm.”

“Right. This time you’re going to use the stairs, a few paces down to your right,” Q states.

Is it just me or is he acting a bit differently?

“Everything alright, Quartermaster?” I ask as I begin my descent.

“Peachy. Will you please continue with the mission?”

“I thought I was. Did I do something wrong?”

He doesn’t answer, which just makes me even more curious. By now I’m at the 2nd floor-

Beep! Beep! Beep!

“Bad news, folks. Watson turned traitor on me.”

“Who?” Q asks with disgust.

“Doesn’t matter. Right now I have to get out.”

“I just detonated an explosive on the south side of the building to cover your exit window. You're welcome.”

My eyebrows raise in surprise. “Thanks very much, chap. Remind me to repay the favor someday.”

“B squad, you check the bottom levels. We’ll get the upper floors!” Voices shout from below.

Uh-oh. Looks like I’ll have to take a detour to the ground floor. I make a dash for the exit and find multiple security guards scurrying all throughout the hall. The lobby is only a few yards away-

“Miss! Quick, there’s been a security breach. You must get evacuated and head home immediately,” one man in a suit informs me.

I play dumb. “Oh my goodness! What happened?”

“A bomb exploded at the end of the property so we’re evacuating all staff. Now hurry!”

Pretending to be in a jumbled panic like everyone else, I flock down the hall and am almost there-!

“Hold up! Where’s your badge?” One guy stops me just before I reach the lobby. A college jock if I ever saw one.

“Well, you see sir,” I bat my eyelashes. “I was having a private meeting with one of your employees that shall go unnamed. That’s how my business works. Technically I’m not supposed to be here, but he needed some stress relief, if you catch my drift. Do you think you could possibly look the other way and let me slip out?”

Lord save my soul. I can’t even register my own words as they pour almost too easily from my mouth. I really have learned a lot from Bond. And it must work, because the young guard is now looking at me with a new-found hunger.

“I dunno about that, but I’ll let it slide if you use that pretty mouth of yours to give me a little loving.”

It’s all I can do not to vomit. “Very well.” I take his hand and lead him to a nearby closet, locking the door behind me. “One kiss, one favor? Sounds enchanting.” I give him a blunt punch to the head and he drops to the ground, out cold. “But I’ve already had my date for the evening.”

I hide him behind a crate and sprint for the lobby, speeding through the door into the cool night air towards the rendezvous point for my getaway. Once I’ve cleared the hill and the lab is out of sight I relax. Finally! I’ve done it! My first mission-!

Bam!

The shot rings out and I stop dead in my tracks. The blood is already dripping down my pant leg. I’ve been lucky to have been shot only twice before, both in the arm. But this is my first leg injury. And I don’t like it.

The guard who’s holding the gun is standing a short distance behind me. “I won’t miss next time. You seemed unfamiliar when I saw you earlier. Now tell me, who are you? And don’t bother trying to sell the whole reporter scheme. Tell me who you’re working for!”

Bond wouldn’t have gotten into this. Think, think! 

I kneel down and make it seem as if I’m surrendering, then-

“Ah!”

My knife, Mrs. White, lands perfectly in the center of the guard’s chest. Thanks, Q. He topples over and, with what force I can muster with a shot leg, I jog over and knock him out cold. That’s one check off the list. But my adrenaline is wearing off and the injury’s starting to get to me.

“Q? M? Anybody copy?” I grunt as I keep walking, wanting to get to the rendezvous point as quickly as possible.

“Q here. Sorry about that, got caught up with Bond’s radio call. What’s up?”

“Agent wounded. I’ve been shot in the thigh, losing blood fast. How far away is the car?”

It’s like I flipped a switch when I said ‘shot,’ because now Q’s manner has definitely changed.

“I see your position. Keep going straight for another 50 yards, and whatever you do don’t fall asleep. Is your head spinning?”

“Starting to. I’m not sure if the bullet nicked the femoral artery, but I’m fresh out of tourniquets.”

“Stay calm, keep your breathing steady. Do you think you can last?”

I try to give a laid-back chuckle but it turns into a short coughing fit, bringing up specs of blood on my hand. “You should know, Quartermaster, that my intentions as a 00 agent keep me motivated to keep going until I literally die? Yes, I can last.”

Q is quiet for a time, leaving me to notice how heavy my breathing has gotten. My leg feels numb now, which cannot be a good thing.

“Are you still there?”

“Yes,” I answer in a tired voice. “Would you mind chatting with me so I can ignore death?”

“I’d think that you would have kicked death in the crotch by now,” Q jokes lightheartedly. “You’re almost there, just a few more yards. Don’t mess up, or you’ll be the first agent to die under my watch.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t. I’m going to rub my victory in your face when I get back.”

“There’s the 0011 I remember,” he groans. “Just get back alive.”

I’d really like to, but my head’s starting to feel even more dizzy. So much for a flawless first solo mission. Is this really how I’m going to go out? Slowly bleeding to death? I’d hoped my death would be something dramatic. Should I say goodbye to everyone? It would mean I’m accepting defeat, but I’d be disappointed not say farewell to my few friends. Bond, Eve, the other 00s, M- Q? Is Q my friend? That would be the first time I’ve been friends with my Quartermaster. It’s not like he’s unlikeable, only annoying at times. Annoying, witty, attractive-

The new thought makes me go into another coughing fit. Q, attractive? My blood loss is clearly making me delusional. He’s mildly cute at best. Wait- no. Why am I cogitating about his appealing looks? Just keep focused and stay alive!

“Q, I’m starting to see spots.” I look behind and see a pathetic trail of blood behind me.

“You’re almost there. Do you see the car yet?”

“I see a bright light-”

“No! Not that one-!”

“Just kidding. Yes, I see it.”

Q sighs. “Shut your trap and get in the bloody car before I tell them to leave you behind.”

I try to laugh but end up spitting up more blood. Now the driver of the black Jeep sees me limping towards her and she rushes over to help.

“Are you 0011?”

“Yeah. Or at least I’ll stay that way if I can stay alive.”

“Stay calm, miss! I’m going to get the stretcher-”

“Forget it. If I can walk this far I can walk 10 more feet to the back of the car.”

The driver quickly opens the rear food and I climb inside with what little strength I have left. As soon as I’m seated my eyes begin to droop and she panics.

“No, no sleeping! We need to get your wound dressed…”

Her words are drowned out by my building fatigue, and soon all I can hear is my faint heartbeat as I start to drift off. So close… Maybe if I wake up after this I’ll copy Bond and top it off with a drink…

[mrs-johansson]

Chapter 5: Avengers: Age of Ultron - Two Ghosts

Part 1:

“When can I meet her?” Dad asked as he came down to have lunch in my lab. “Soon. I want her to settle in, and I want her to have the hearing aid.” “And how’s that going?” He stood up and walked up to the table. “I’m just gonna run some more tests and we’ll see, maybe next week you two could meet,” I looked up at him.

“How is it that your friends have seen Katarina sooner than I would?” Dad had been trying to meet Katarina for months, but with James at the house and the setting time, I thought she could have a little more time. “Because they are not her relatives biologically. Clint helps me with babysitting and Natasha is… Natasha. Believe me, she’s worth the wait. I swear she has your attitude sometimes even though you two haven’t even met yet.” The proud and surprised look on his face was funny but also such a great feeling to see. “Okay show me some pictures then.”

***

The last couple of months have been hectic. Hiding James has been really difficult, but mostly for him. He couldn’t really leave the house without assistance and he was bothered by that obviously. Even though he’s very introverted and a house buddy, he wanted to get out there and explore the world on his own, which was not possible at these times.

So he stayed at home most days, spending time with Katarina and learning from within the four walls. He watched the news every morning and evening, surfed the internet for information, and read about the time he had missed.

We once visited the Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum, where he learned about himself and the war, but mostly about the Captain America we know now. James was so eager to know everything and be present that sometimes he got lost in what he actually wanted. He still didn't have a plan for what would come next. I tried everything to make him look further but he got stuck.

Meanwhile, Katarina was growing fast. She’s not even one and she has the abilities and looks of a 3 year old. She knows sign language to a full extent, which she learned in just a couple of weeks.

It is incredible to see how she’s developing day to day, but not gonna lie I miss the previous steps. I wanted to see her open her eyes for the first time, roll over for the first time and I’m not even gonna mention the first steps. I know I complain about great things but these are also great things to miss out on.

When I work, she’s in kindergarten from Monday to Thursday and on Fridays, she stays at Barton's. She already sees Clint and Laura as her uncle and aunt, and the kids as her cousins. They treat her like family, which I appreciate out of this world.

And Natasha, she’s here on most Saturdays, when Katarina is just full of joy. Nat is definitely her favorite, apart from me of course. They bonded on a deep level and it brings me happiness but also so much pain to know that we couldn’t work out.

Maybe if it wasn’t for the break-up, we would raise Katarina together. But it’s never perfect, is it?

On Fridays, which is today, I usually bring dinner to Clint’s house and we have dinner together.

Pulling up to the farm, I could see the kids and Clint playing outside, kicking a ball around. Katarina’s dark brown hair was gently braided into two little braids, and the pants she had on were basically dirty as the ground. She enjoys being outside since at home we only have a flat still.

The Bartons looked up to the sound of the car and Clint alerted Rina that I’d arrived, and she looked my way too. Her attention left the ball imminently and with those little feet, she started running towards me.

Seeing this was something that made me appreciate every little thing. She was getting older by the second and I wasn’t gonna miss one more minute with her.

I got out of the car and quickly rounded it before picking her up.

“Hi baby,” I gave a kiss to the side of her head, then put her back on the ground and kneeled in front of her. “Your hair is so pretty! Did Laura make it?” I asked. “No, Natasha.” Nat’s here? “Wow, she’s so cool, right?” She nodded. “How was today? Did you have fun?” “Yes, we painted. I made you something,” she took my hand and insisted on getting inside.

Getting the take-out dinner I picked up Katarina and made our way towards Clint and the kids. “Hey guys, I got us Chinese today,” I greeted the three of them. “Copper, why don’t you guys take the food inside? We’ll be there in a minute,” I gave him the bags of food and the three of them walked in, Katarina grabbing a hold of Lila’s hand.

“What is she doing here? She hasn't been returning my calls for over a week. And I know she wasn’t on a mission,” I turned to Clint. He looked inside then at me with a sigh. “I don’t know why she didn’t talk to you then, but now she’s here to talk. It seemed pretty serious,” he said. “Great, just perfect.”

Walking inside, the kids already settled around the table, Laura and Natasha unpacking the boxes. “Hi,” I said. Nat picked up her head and I couldn’t describe the look she gave me. “I was just saying the other to Clint, how much I craved Chinese but he didn’t get me any,” Laura’s voice made me look away. “Because it was in the middle of the night and we live on a farm,” Clint stepped in. “I’m glad your craving will be fulfilled,” I said.

Grabbing the plates, I had to step next to Natasha. “Nat,” I nodded her way. “Y/n.” The urge to read her mind was so tempting but I promised everyone that I won’t use it on them. “You haven’t been returning my calls,” I said as I reached the shelf.

“It wasn’t a phone conversation that I wanted to talk about,” she said. Voice tense, body language just strict. “We can talk after I put Katarina to sleep.”

***

Katarina insisted that Natasha would be the one who stays with her until she falls asleep, so I did the dishes so that Laura could relax a little, but she kept my company throughout.

“Dinner was weird,” she said. “What do you mean?” “You and Nat. What’s going on?” I stared at the water as it flowed through the sink. “It’s been strange for a while. She’s dictating herself from me, from us really. She canceled last week’s Saturday and hasn't answered my calls since. Of course, Rina asked for her, because she’s obsessed with her. But nothing. And last week too, like she was distracted at all times. And if it was work she would definitely tell me.” “Maybe she’s seeing someone,” she casually threw it out there. “You think?” I stopped the tap and dried my hands. “What else could it be? It’s Natasha, you and work were the only option she could be occupied with, but there’s no you anymore, and if it’s not work… Maybe she found someone,” the sad smile on Laura’s face was something strange. I know she loved us together but I didn’t think she would actually prefer us over other relationships. But she also probably knew something.

“So, can we talk?” Natasha walked down the stairs, and both of us looked her way. “Yeah, let’s go outside. Good night, Laura,” I said to the woman. “You too guys.”

As we made our way outside I played all the scenarios in my mind about what could happen. Maybe she did find someone and wants to disappear from my life, or maybe it is a work thing.

We were a great distance from the house and we didn't talk a word on the walk. Then she stopped at almost the end of the lot. “I know about Barnes,” her voice was filled with anger. “And?” I shrugged it off, trying to act cool.

“Y/n, are you insane?” She stepped closer, veins popping out on her neck. “He is dangerous! And you let your daughter around him? There’s a chance that he’s gonna be that killing machine again, and what are you gonna do then, huh? Or what if HYDRA finds him? That’s why you won’t let anyone over to your place! And what about Steve? You’re just gonna let him suffer and look for him when you know damn well that he sleeps in your bed, eats your food, and plays with your daughter every day.” “You have no idea Natalia how fucking hard it is for me! If it wasn’t for him I wouldn’t have found Katarina. I wouldn’t be alive if it wasn’t for him!” By now we were yelling at each other and I was glad the house was far away.

“I’ve been trying to help him settle in, to come up with a plan. But nothing. He doesn’t even want a glance at the future. For the past several decades he wasn’t Barnes, he wasn’t the Bucky Steve knows… But he’s trying to be the old him. He wants to learn and be human,” I explained but as I spoke she only got angrier. “How are you falling so easily into this? Y/n how can you be so naive after everything that happened?” Her hands spread to her sides, confusion hitting her face. “Naive?” I scoffed. “Every single day when I go home, I think he’s not gonna be there anymore. That he left, that they took him. For months I’ve been living on the fucking edge, scared to leave my daughter alone with him, scared to fall asleep next to him. I’m not naive, I just don’t want to make him feel even worse,” I said and turned around to walk back.

“No.” She simply said and I looked back at her. “No, you are just scared to be alone. You can’t be alone and you just won’t admit that,” she caught up to me and stood right in front of me. “Don’t ever talk to me about hating to be alone. I became a mother overnight, and I wasn’t gonna do this alone.” “But you are not alone,” Natasha took hold of my hand. But I took it away and shook my head. “I am.” “Y/n don’t shut me out now,” the want in her eyes was something I missed every day but I couldn’t let this happen. “I’m not shutting you out, but we talked about this. I can’t do this, not now… James is there and Rina, I-“ I stumbled over my words, didn’t even know what I wanted to say. “James…” She said quietly like she knew immediately. With the look she gave me, she definitely knew.

“You guys are a thing, aren’t you?” Her shoulders dropped. “We’re not a thing,” I looked away, shaking my head. “Oh don’t fucking lie to me. I know you, Y/n. You two are fucking for sure,” she got mad again, but mostly she looked disappointed. “What if we do? You have absolutely no right to question who I sleep or don’t sleep with. We broke up, Natasha. We ended things because it didn’t work. I’m sorry that I’m trying to move on. It hurts me like shit, that he’s not you, that it’s not us! I wanted you, Nat!” I yelled at her. She has no right to speak to me like that. “I wanted all of you. We had each other and now we don’t. So you don’t get to decide what I do with my life.”

***

“Good morning everyone,” Steve walked into the meeting room with Maria following him. Files in her hands she handed one to everyone. The team gathered around the table, while Steve presented our next mission.

“As you all know, we found another HYDRA Research Base. It’s in Sokovia, Europe. It is the base where we tracked Loki’s scepter and the plan is to retrieve it. The files have everything you need to know before we take off. Tomorrow morning we leave at 5. Any questions?” He looked around and everyone was silent. “Alright, see you tomorrow.”

***

Taking Katarina out of her seat, we made our way upstairs right away. It’s how the days go, in the mornings I drop her off at kindergarten and after work I get her and we go home to James.

After the meeting, I went to Stark Industries and we worked on some new projects and I finally finished Rina's hearing aid so I’m very excited to try it with her.

Opening the front door, I noticed the flat was awfully quiet. James usually is always on the couch when we get home, watching the news but now he isn't. The tv was turned off, no sign of James in the living room.

I shut the door behind me and put Katarina down, who took off to her room immediately. “James?” I called out once. Maybe he’s sleeping. I checked the kitchen and the balcony, but nothing. Bathroom empty. Then I made my way to the bedroom to see it was also without him in it.

And then I noticed an envelope. Lying on his pillow. My heart dropped and I couldn’t think of anything else other than he had left.

With shaky hands, I took hold of the envelope and saw my name written on it. Opened it and saw the handwritten letter. I sat down on the edge of the bed and read it.

Hey Doll,

We both knew this was coming for a long time now, but I think neither of us thought that it woulduld actually happen. I had to leave. For your and Katarina’s safety. I am a liability and it wouldn’t be safe for you two if I had stayed. I also didn’t want Steve to find me, he had enough trouble with me the last time we saw each other.

I won’t contact you and I don’t want you to contact me. The only communication I want is Katarina. I’d like you to send pictures to the address at the bottom every month. Just one picture of Katarina.

I am truly sorry and I promised I won’t leave you again, I am sorry that I broke this. But please forgive me, Doll.

Your James.

[crosseyedcricketart]

New Year, 2024.

website post here.

Happy New Year everyone! 

For this upcoming year, I intend on growing what I started last year. I’ve already started the new year with a family trip, to extend the Christmas holidays, and I have intentions of growing my art portfolio. I already have subjects in mind for what I’d like to create and do. 

My art is going to be a large focus of this year; I fully intend to continue my education and get my bachelors and maybe even masters, but I also want to be able to jump on growing my footprint in the art world if I’m given that opportunity. I have a grasp on tumblr and it being an area where I can grow my name in art. I’ve been thinking about the thought of selling art prints of my art, and I’ve been looking into that since then. That way, I could have acrylic, watercolor, and my oil paintings available. I am not ignorant to myself, I am very aware that I get attached to paintings, so this way I could still sell my art while keeping the original for myself. I also think that would workout well for larger works, such as Two Sturgeons, which is 24” x 24”, and that would be terrible to mail to a customer. But, if I could downscale that to a 8” x 8”, 12” x 12”, or 16” x 16”, it’s much more manageable to ship. Plus, prints are much cheaper to purchase than originals. I feel like I personally have a disconnect from the “buy art as an investment collectable” area of the art world. I had professors who whined and griped about how prints or smaller works would reduce the price of my name, and mess like that. But honestly, I don’t view it like that. I don’t view art like a stock. I’m too sentimental for that. Art is a lot of things, but it’s not a financial investment in my opinion. So I want to make prints, so that whoever wants them has a more financially accessible way to experience that art. Art takes money. Original art takes a lot of money. But prints take less than originals. Plus, I can still sign them and write any information about the painting on the back of a print. So I’ve been dancing that thought around my head recently. 

This recent trip has once again ignited my desire to paint. I feel like most creative avenues take the ebbs and flows of highly creative and impassioned, creating a work, then needing to recharge after completing the work. So I’m in that recharging stage currently. I’ve been dabbling in digital art, but I don’t particularly want that to be my focus. This area always ignites me. It just does. I don’t think I could explain it if I tried. Granted, this trip was not nearly as relaxing as any previous trips have been. I would never claim that. Externally, the water and area has been peaceful. Within the trip, it’s been stressful. Aside from that, I’ve been enjoying the shoals. I love winter. I just do. I know some people aren’t the biggest fans of winter, but I certainly find it to be wonderful. At the same time, though, I love layering my clothes and my fashion of choice is sweaters. So. That tends to lend itself to winter. 

The south normally doesn’t have intense winters, but these last few years have been more and more intense it seems. I’ve been having to wear actual winter clothing for once. While we were in the Shoals, it was quite obvious how certain parts of the community were not prepared for 30 degree days. Which is certainly understandable. Personally, I’ve been expanding this area of my wardrobe with nicer pieces from Quince. I’ve been loving their cotton items. I also got one of their cashmere pieces, the cashmere skirt, and it is wonderful in this colder weather. I love it. I think that for the price, with the materials being used, it is a very good purchase.

On the thought of my trip to the Shoals, I feel like it should be noted that I, obviously, had to pack, and I actually used the Glossier “the Makeup Bag” for my makeup. Now, I took the organizational insert out of the bag and used that main area. I brought my Pat McGrath Labs palette, two 9-pan Colourpop palettes, one 12-pan Colourpop palette, six lipglosses, a concealer, a lot of brushes, mascara, highlighter, powder, liquid blush, and an eyelash curler, all in that bag. Plus, I put my little bracelets and hair ties in the outer pocket. And honestly… I really liked it. I really liked how it was packed, I liked how it laid in my luggage, it kept everything intact and sound. I actually dropped my luggage down the stairs and it landed on my arm (oops), the luggage had to sit on top of a collapsed dog kennel, and I opened my luggage a bit aggressively, and through all of that, everything in that bag stayed safe and sound. So I would like to redact my review on the Glossier bag and revise it here; It is a very good bag, however, it is a bit expensive. If you have the money and really want it, then I think you would love it. I think you can find comparable for a lower price, but I don’t think this is a bad bag. I think if you want it you’ll enjoy it. 

I really hope to be able to travel more this year. I want to be able to paint more and create more paintings, I want to be able to share more of my travels through that, and I hope that I’ll be able to grow into that. I hope to do more than I did last year, and I hope to grow as I do it. I hope this blog will be able to grow with me, too. 

[mwcowan]

A Whole New Chapter, Part 2

Back There, Back Here

When I left off last July, we were heading back to the US for a short visit, just over 5 weeks to be exact. Busy time! We arrived back at our home in Nevada to find everything as we’d left it, well, except for the weeds that had taken over the back yard. The first week back was pretty much recovering from the travel, and for me, spending some quality time with the weed-whacker clearing the back yard, or at least enough of it for us to get out the back door and find the chairs and barbecue. I figured that was enough and I’d find someone to finish the job, but I never did. Oh well, I’ll have something to do next time we’re back.

Our first adventure was drive to Salt Lake City to visit Tommy, Hannah, and Felix. And of course, Rolf, their rather huge Lab/Newfoundland mix. For a few nice days we enjoyed spending time with Felix – he’s in that very enjoyable phase around 6 months, lots of smiles and giggles.

After returning home, we  had a nice visit from Georgia’s son Matt and wife Morgan, and her son Anthony. And dogs Ripley (Max’s sister) and Anthony’s Lab Maxx (we call him Big Max). We showed them around our new area and spent one HOT afternoon at Lake Lahontan, which is about ½ hour from us. Nice lake with good facilities, it was just HOT! Next day we drove up to Lake Davis in Plumas County, where the weather was much cooler and we had a picnic, swam, and fished.

Georgia actually talked Matt and Morgan into leaving Ripley with us for two weeks (I think she pulled the guilt trip about how much we missed Max).

Back up to Plumas County to visit our friends Todd and Kathleen Solomon, and Max’s sister and BFF Lizzie. On the way we met up with our friends John & Judy Lullo, and Robert & Yvonne Ware for a good lunch and catch-up session, then stopped into the Mohawk Community Center which was having an open house – another chance to meet up with more of our Graeagle friends. A fun dinner at the Solomon’s followed, where we were joined our friends Cliff Romig and Cathy Davies, who have Max’s brother Olaf. A real doggy reunion, too bad Max had to miss it!

The next day we went boating at Bullards Bar reservoir with the Solomons plus Todd’s grandson and a couple of his friends. It’s great to go boating with young people; they’re happy to ski or wakeboard all day, leaving us old folks to relax and drink beer. I did get talked into wakeboarding, which I haven’t done in a long time, time as measured in decades. I’m proud to say I got up 2 out of 2 tries, but quickly did a face plant each time. Maybe I'll try again in another 20 years.

The boating activity I'm more suited for. Yes there’s a beer in my missing hand.

Almost done, but not quite. Back from Graeagle, it was time to go to Las Vegas for Georgia’s family’s annual August Birthday celebration. We celebrated Dignah’s and Dinah’s birthdays on the appropriate days with a nice lunch, and met up with the usual stream of family and friends that always accompanies this event. We’d had Ripley with us all this time, and by agreement, we left her with Georgia’s sister Dalene to take back to San Jose and her regular family.

Whew, that was a busy, and quick, 5 weeks! Back to Fernley with a day to pack and lock things up, then off to the airport and back to the Philippines!

Manila

We’d timed our arrival to be one day ahead of Georgia’s Mom Dolly, her sister Dalene, and cousin Lena, who were headed over for a long visit. As we did just the day before, they arrived before 6am. No problem for us, due to jetlag we were up at 4 already!

We’d hired Arturo, the driver who took us on our road trip earlier this year, to help us with the airport pickup. A good thing too, with the three ladies packed up for a 3 month trip, their luggage filled two vans! But we also had another motive. After getting everyone settled into Dolly's house, Arturo drove us to Kawayan Cove to pick up Max! Max was of course happy to see us, but after spending maybe 15 seconds jumping around and giving us kisses, he headed to his toy box to find his favorite for us to play with. Then with a quick turn-around, we were on our way back to Manila. Besides (I hope) being happy to be back with us, Max got to see lots of the moo moo cows who just hang out on the highway. Be sure to turn the sound on!

Max also got to see monkeys along side the road; we found that he has a very different, unfriendly, reaction to monkeys. I think he still remembers the incident in Vigan!

Danny, Ben, and Lachlan!

Besides being timed for the arrival of Georgia’s mom et. al., our travel was also timed to meet Danny, Ben, and Lachie, who soon arrived from Sydney for an 8-day stay! We picked them up at the airport in the evening, spent the night at Dolly’s in Manila, then headed back to Kawayan Cove the next day.

Lachie is 1 ½ years old now, a great age, and he has the looks and personality to charm anyone. Especially here, you just don’t see many VERY white, red-headed children! Besides being a hit with all the ladies at Dolly’s house, anywhere we took him it seems like he gathered a crowd! Everyone wanted a look at him, asked lots of questions, wanted to meet his dads, etc.

Lachie loves tractors, and one day a big excavator on the way to a construction site stopped in front of our house. Lachie loved it! I think the guys taking a break (from putting the tires under the treads as it moved uphill) had just as much fun seeing Lachie as he did seeing the excavator!

Lachie also loves swimming, so naturally we spent quite a bit of time in the pool. Unfortunately the beach was too rough for swimming due to a passing (far away, thankfully) typhoon, but we did have a nice lunch at the club.

On the weekend we took the boys to our favorite resort in Anilao/Mabini. The one with the goats, which Lachie enjoyed feeding.

We had planned to do a dive day, but with the rough seas we figured diving wouldn’t be too good, so we just relaxed around the pool instead. Lachie was good with that. And the food in the restaurant too!

All too soon it was time for the boys to go, on to their next stop, Bali. Gotta feel sorry for them, right? Oh well, we had a great visit and hope to see them again soon, here or Sydney or wherever!

Merry Christmas!

Yes, it’s September, and the Christmas season has started. Christmas decorations in the malls, holiday music. I’m usually not ready for this until after Thanksgiving, but it’s the tradition here. Christmas is celebrated in the ‘-ber’ months (September, October, November, and December). Just go with it.

Typhoons

I mentioned that a typhoon was making waves and stirring up the water. It was super typhoon Yagi (a 'super typhoon' classification is equivalent to a category 5 hurricane) which fortunately was only a tropical storm as it passed over northern Luzon. Although we were seeing wind and larger than usual waves when the boys were here, shortly after they left the weather significantly worsened with high winds, strong surf, and heavy, continuous rains, lasting for 4 days. And this is when the storm that was 700 miles (1120km) northwest of us! I took these screenshots from two weather apps, the first showing the storm path, passing over northern Luzon as a tropical storm before strengthening into a typhoon, and the solid cloud cover extending as far as southern Palawan. We’re at the blue dot, Palawan is the long, skinny island to the southwest of us. The second app shows the wind strengths and flow – you can clearly see the circular storm center, but also look at the effect it’s having on the winds, pulling them up from the southwest between Palawan and Vietnam, and straight at us. It’s just amazing how huge an area the storm impacts!

While I’m being weather-geeky, around the first of April I installed a weather station, with a digital rain gauge. As I write this, it reads 1509 mm of rain since then, about 5 ½ months. That’s 59.4” for you non-metric types. California should build a water pipeline to the Philippines. Hey Gavin! No problem, just raise taxes to pay for it!

Fruits Loops

We finally have bananas! We’ve planted many banana plants (they are not trees, actually the largest member of the grass family); some have blown over (they’re not very strong), and some just haven’t produced any fruit. Plus they’re pretty ugly so they need to produce to justify being in our yard. Well finally one is making bananas. The conical purple thing is the flower; as layers come off it reveals another row of baby bananas. I’ve never seen them at this stage, so I’m excited to watch them develop, and hopefully I’ll get to taste some. I’ll keep you posted.

I’ve reported on many strange tropical fruits over the years, but it’s been quite a while since I’ve had something new to try. We took a quick trip to Dolly’s farm in Alangilan (Georgia had to help with some family business), and waiting for us were Marang. If you attached a pointy nose you’d have a cute little hedgehog – the spines are soft, and underneath is a skin that’s easily pulled open to reveal the sweet and creamy fruit inside.

People say the taste is somewhere between Jackfruit and Durian, with little of the pungent odor of the Durian. I thought it was quite tasty!

And then there’s Durian. The king of tropical fruits. Not new to me but always worth a mention. As soon as we walked into the farm house in Alangilan I knew there were Durian lurking somewhere. That unmistakable smell, even from unopened fruit, that people describe as anything from sweaty socks to a soiled baby diaper. One of the very few foods that made Andrew Zimmern (Bizarre Foods on the Travel Channel) gag and refuse to eat. Banned to carry on most airlines and public transportation. But being blessed with a rather poor sense of smell, I’m able to get it past my nose and into my mouth; I actually enjoy the creamy and sweet fruit!

Nang Belen getting ready to unleash the monster...

Sunset(s) of the Week

A couple nice ones, first from Mabini (I must admit that the camera captured more than we could see, especially colors in the clouds, but a nice sunset by any means)

And a view from home.

All for now, stay healthy and happy!

[daydreamerdrew]

Comics read this past week:

Marvel Comics:

Captain Marvel (1968) #12 and The Avengers (1963) #63-65

These issues were published across January 1969 to April 1969. The Captain Marvel issue was written by Arnold Drake, penciled by Dick Ayers, and inked by Syd Shores. All of The Avengers issues were written by Roy Thomas and penciled by Gene Colan, who is replacing John Buscema as the penciler for the book. Issues #63-64 were inked by George Klein and issue #65 was inked by Sam Grainger. All were 20 pages. I ordinarily really enjoy Gene Colan’s art, but I think his style works better for a solo book than a team book, and I really think that there’s a tonal disconnect between his style and Roy Thomas’ writing.

In the Captain Marvel issue, when Natasha’s mission goes awry, she thinks, “Well, you really blew this one, sweetheart! Now, not even Hawkeye and the Avengers could save your neck!” Natasha does succeed in her mission in the end, but she’s captured.

In issue #63 Clint isn’t able to help the Avengers in an emergency because his bow string broke. Afterwards he said, of their success, “Yeah… but no thanks to me! One crummy broken string… and I’m Mr. Fifth Wheel! Even that cable-arrow was designed for me by T’Challa! I’m not in you guys’ league-!” This is a far cry from how confident he was when he first joined the Avengers.

Hank says, of the name Giant-Man, “A name I later changed, for reasons I forget, to Goliath!” I thought this was funny.

Hank also says, “I’m positive it was my growing that contributed to my recent siege of schizo.” It was previously only attributed to him accidentally inhaling some spilled chemicals in his lab.

And Hank says, of “the slightly sneaky way [Jan] tricked me into marrying her,” “that’s something she’ll never have to apologize for- never!”

T’Challa orders, “As acting chairman for this month,” that Clint not come on the rescue mission for Natasha because “I feel you are too personally involved to accompany us!” And Hank says, “T’Challa’s right, partner! You’re liable to do something foolish.” Clint is upset, but agrees, saying, “A hothead like me might just foul up things… get the whole bunch of us killed!” He even wonders, since he can’t “stand around doin’ nothing” without going “stir-crazy,” if “Maybe a turn around town’d do me some good- fat chance!” In contrast, back in issue #30, when Natasha was still a villain, Clint had said that “It was my fault that Natasha and her two super-stooges escaped” so “as an Avenger… I request the right to tackle ‘em alone.” And Steve responded, “It’s not necessary, partner! But, I know how you feel! Permission granted!”

However, while the other Avengers are away, Clint receives a message from Natasha, which reveals to him that the other Avengers are going to the wrong place. In order to rescue her by himself, Clint takes Hank’s “new, even more powerful growth serum!”

When it looks to her like Clint is unconscious and out of the fight, Natasha thinks, “Nothing can save me now… but at least the man I love will live…!”

Natasha addresses Clint as “my love” multiple times in this issue.

In issue #64 Natasha defends Clint for taking Hank’s growth serum, saying, “But he had a noble purpose! He was rescuing a damsel in distress! Namely… myself!”

Clint destroys his bow, committing to being Goliath (II).

Barney Barton, “head of half the rackets in town,” first appears in this issue. He recognizes that Clint is now Goliath, saying, “I’d know that voice anywhere!” Both are rude to each other. Hank says, angrily, that “the days when he was on your side of a shyster lawyer are thru!” But Clint intervenes so that the team hears him out, and Barney offers information about the villains’ big plot, explaining, “I got me an itch to play public hero No. 1… and you’re gonna help me!” Clint is incredulous about that, but he lets Barney explain that he and his boys were almost hired for the job, and so he knows the coordinates of the satellite, while the others that were with him were killed so they couldn’t talk. But now this makes Clint angry, and he says, grabbing Barney, “Your story’s as phony as a three-dollar bill! You just can’t take a chance on that death-ray blastin’ your meal ticket off the map! Can you, rat?” Natasha is present for this whole scene, but doesn’t speak.

Janet thinks, “We all know that Hawkeye was once a hunted man! Yet, we’ve always assumed he was just misunderstood! But, if he was hooked up with a big-time hood like Barney Barton… I wonder…!”

Clint tells Natasha, “I know you’ve gotta report to Nick Fury, ‘Tasha! So… later, hear?” And Natasha says, “And… be careful, my impetuous darling!”

Barney insists on coming along on the mission, and when T’Challa tells him to keep back from the fight, Barney yells, “Mind yer sandbox, Panther! I got me some heroin’ to do!” When all of the Avengers are paralyzed, Barney has to save the day. Then as Barney lays dying, he and Clint talk. Clint wants to get him to a doctor, but there’s not enough time, and Barney says, “It’s funny, Clint… the way we both made… the big time! Still, you got… what I wanted… the fame… the applause…! But, maybe I made it… just a little bit… at the end… huh, kid?” Clint vows vengeance against Egghead, though I know from having read Hawkeye (2012) that Barney is alive later.

Hank points out that “he called you by a name… called you… Clint!” And Clint dramatically reveals that Barney was his brother. Clint didn’t have a first or last name established before this issue.

In issue #65 Clint and Barney’s backstory with the Swordsman is revealed; though in previous issues where the Swordsman fought the Avengers, it’s not implied that he had any special significance to Clint.

The Swordsman says, “Hawkeye was the boy named Clint Barton… as I always suspected!”

The Avengers realize that the fact that Barney was a known criminal is “why you were so secretive about your past… why you never used any name but Hawkeye… or later Goliath!” I’m going to make the assumption that Natasha knew his name, because I don’t think he’d think she’d judge him for having a renowned criminal brother.

The Swordsman is hired to attack the Avengers, and he thinks, “[A]ll I care about is my reward… Plus a chance to prove I’m still better than the doomed upstart Hawkeye!”

When Clint goes to fight the Swordsman, he immediately reveals his identity, yelling, “Recognize these golden tones, blade-swinger? I’m the kid you taught… then almost killed!”

Clint ends up attacking the Avengers so that he can fight the Swordsman alone. Though he’s been depicted as having a temper since he joined this book, and he’s currently upset over the death of his brother, I think this indicates that Clint is having mental problems like Hank was said to have because of the serum.

At the end of the issue, having captured Egghead, Clint says, “I’ve got the guy who caused by brother’s death! And maybe, wherever Barney is… I’ve made up for givin’ up on him… maybe… just a little…!”

Captain America (2002) #12-16

These issues were published across April 2003 to August 2003. This was the “Ice” storyline. All were written by Chuck Austen, drawn by Jae Lee, and colored by José Villarrubia. Issue #12 was 23 pages, issues #13-14 and #16 were 22 pages, and issue #15 was 21 pages. I particularly liked Chuck Austen and Jae Lee’s work and was disappointed that this was the end of their run.

The main plot of this arc was Steve being targeted by the Interrogator, the leader of the Atlanteans’ enemy the Lemurians. It’s revealed in the end that the Interrogator was hired by the U.S. Secretary of Defense because “America needs killers who will murder for the right cause. The just cause.” This book’s portrayal of Steve depicts him as never killing, even during WWII. By severing the Lumerian technology from its human host body known as the Interrogator, Steve unwittingly kills the host, making the Secretary’s plan of making Steve a killer a success.

Also, Steve was told in the previous arc that he was cloned by the U.S. government so that they could replace him with a more obedient version, a plot which was tied to his resistance to Japanese interment. Steve is immediately dismissive of this. But in the first issue of this arc Steve is sent a package of files showing that the U.S. government themselves freezing Steve and Bucky and placing them in the ice where Steve was later found. Steve is convinced and horrified. The idea is raised to him that the documents are false, but he isn’t that swayed, and flashback scenes without Steve support that this really happened. One flashback scene ties this plot to the assumption that Steve would try to stop America’s atomic bombings otherwise. This all also raises the question for Steve of why Bucky is dead. This whole conflict was not resolved in these issues.

In issue #12 narration boxes describe, as Namor is fighting around Steve, in a scene from when he was still frozen in the ice, “The hero’s dead eyes do not see the death and carnage the good ‘prince’ Namor wreaks. The hero’s dead ears do not hear the bullets careen off steely, Atlantean flesh. The hero’s dead skin does not feel the tremor of a world as a savage sea king moves the weight of mountains.” And then, “So when dead eyes regain life- there is nothing left to see. To hear. To feel.” I was compelled by the repeated phrasing of Steve’s features being dead while he was frozen.

In issue #13, regarding that documents showing that Steve was intentionally frozen by the U.S. government, Steve says, “They prove that I’ve been a toy to the American government since the beginning. Nick is right. Soldiers kill. I’m not a soldier. I never was.” And Steve decides that the Avengers must have not been in on the plot, that them finding him in the ice “had to be been fate” because “Or all the years of my life since then have no meaning.” This is shocking considering how determination is such a prominent part of his character.

In issue #14 Steve asks, “Why is nothing clear or simple anymore? Good guys. Bad guys. Right and wrong. Why can’t problems be solved with fists and gritted teeth like they used to be? Why can’t I punch someone and just be right?”

At one point Hana addresses Steve as Steve, then says, “Or should I say ‘Captain America.’ There really is no ‘Steve’ here, is there?” And when Steve says, “This is about my country and my soul,” she responds, “Aren’t they the same thing?”

In a flashback to when Steve was first labeled unfit for duty and he was loudly insisting that he wanted to fight for his country, General Phillips sees this and says, “But blind, patriotic fervor has a power all its own. A willingness to do whatever we ask. To go wherever we tell him. To obey all orders in the name of God and country under any and all circumstances. Isn’t that the kind of man we’re looking for?” And then, “And if you’re going to give a man the power of a God- you want to make sure he’ll always be on your side.”

Later, he complains, “Captain America’s moral stance has altered since we gave him the serum and the powers, for reasons we cannot understand. He will now no longer kill under any circumstances, and has begun to see himself as a protector of the world- and NOT just our United States.”

In the present Steve is asked, “Finally going to settle down and live a real life for a change?” He answers, “I’ve never felt anything was missing from my life, sir.” This isn’t true, he fantasizes in issue #4 about just that, but thought, “Hold the [American] Dream. If you don’t believe- Who will?” referring to Steve needing to continue his work as Captain America, and then, “It’s enough to hold it, soldier- Hold the Dream. You don’t have to taste it.”

Steve was supported throughout these issues by Hana, who first appeared back in issue #10. I really enjoyed their relationship, up to and including a scene in issue #15 where she propositions him and he is flustered, though that was later revealed to be a part of a simulation. I would genuinely have appreciated this character as a long-term love interest for Steve.

Sgt. Fury and his Howling Commandoes (1963) #38-39

These issues were published across November 1966 to December 1966. Issue #38 was written by Roy Thomas, with Morrie Kuramoto being credited as a technical advisor. And issue #39 was plotted by Dick Ayers and scripted by Roy Thomas. Both were penciled by Dick Ayers and inked by John Tartaglione. Both were 20 pages.

In issue #38 Nick receives a letter from Dino Manelli, who was discharged after being injured in issue #35. Percy says, “And I’ve got one from my sister, as well!” Eric thinks, “How I wish I could receive a letter from my own sister- but, she is aiding the allied cause back in my native Germany!” Reb announces, “Mah sweet ol’ pappy sent me the latest li’l ol’ racin’ news!” And Izzy tells Dum Dum, “I can tell by the way you’re shakin’ yer fist- you must’a got a letter from yer mother-in-law!” Dum Dum tells him, “Yeah! And if that ain’t bad enuff by itself, there was even a nickel postage due!”

Nick speaks really positively of Dino before reading his letter aloud, calling him “one’a the bravest fightin’ men in the whole blasted army!” Dum Dum notes, “It’s postmarked Hollywood! Then he must’a got well enuff fer ‘em to ship ‘im across the country!” For some reason Dino opens his letter with, “Well, I guess you never thought you’d be hearing from me again!”

Dino explains that he’s walking on crutches and says, “I’ve pulled myself together… and I’m now making training films for the Army! I guess the Brass figures the Joes will listen better to somebody who was there.” Dino could possibly return to the regiment, if only the only doctor who could help him wasn’t a prisoner of the Germans and “hasn’t a chance of being freed- until the war is over- if he’s still alive, that is!” He said, when he was told this news, “Well then, it looks like I’ll just have to get used to playin’ in movies about cripples, huh, Doc?” Dino isn’t asking the Commandoes to save the doctor, just sharing what’s going on in his life, but of course they all want to go on this mission to help Dino.

This issue is the first appearance of Jim Morita. Nick catches two white soldiers harassing a soldier “from the new Japanese-American squad we’ve been expecting.” They say, “We oughtta show him ‘im what we do with his kind back where we come from,” and call him “slanty-eyes.” Jim says, “I think you fellas must have me confused with the rats that bombed Pearl Harbor! Personally, I’ve never been west of San Francisco!” But he’s told, “A Jap’s a Jap- no matter where he wuz born!” Nick thinks, “Well, I guess there’s guys like them in any man’s army!” Jim performs admirably in physically defending himself, and the Nick steps in to help “the nisei.” Nick forces the soldiers to apologize, then helps Jim with his bags and walks him to his barracks, which I thought was remarkably kind of him. He tells Jim, “[D]on’t take them two commando clowns too serious! They’re good men, when they use their heads instead’a their fists!” Jim tells him, “Sure, Sarge, I kind’a figure it’s my job to change their minds, anyway!”

Jim surprises the Howlers by joining them on their mission, which is easily surmised as because “ya figgered ya owed the Sarge a favor.” On the way there he thinks, of Nick, “He bellows at me as loudly as at the Howlers! That must mean he accepts me as an ally for this mission!” Jim messes up his parachute landing because he hadn’t ever done it before. He explains, “We’re taking up that phase of commando tactics next week!” He addresses the Howlers at one point as “you old-timers.” And when Percy points out “the way Jim Morita’s smashing away at those Jerries,” Jim says, “This is the first target practice I’ve had in a week, anyhow!”

Nick declares, “It’s better to die fer freedom, kraut, than fer some sawed-off, slogan-yellin’ Fuehrer… or didn’t ya know?”

After the mission those two racist soldiers are nice to Jim. They explain it’s because they heard he chose to help the Howlers, and that “we got to thinking about the things we’re supposed to be fightin’ for!” And the rest of Jim’s “Nisei squad” show up, who are framed positively.

In issue #39 the Howlers are on a mission infiltrating a Nazi fortress where it’s assumed that they’re building a super-weapon, but it’s not known exactly what. Eric says, “Then- this must be a mysterious Festung von Furcht- the Fortress of Fear! I heard rumors of such a place when I was still in the Reichland- but I discounted them as propaganda!”

On their mission Nick thinks, “The only thing is, Happy Sam couldn’t arrange for any transport outta France when it’s over! Maybe it’s a good thing Dino ain’t with us!” Later he says, regarding him not having any idea how they’ll get out of there, “Ah well, like I always say, nobody lives forever!” And Sam thinks, before the Commandoes return, “I should never have let the Howlers go on that suicide mission- no matter how vital G-2 claimed it was!”

Back in issue #38 Eric thought, “I want very much for us to help Dino- but, if we do, will there still be a place for me with the Howlers?” And also, “Whenever I hear his name, it reminds me that I am outsider… an intruder!” Now we see Dino wondering, as he’s about to have his operation, “Somehow… I just had the feeling that the Howlers were thinkin’ about me- that they needed me! But, they’ve got Eric now! Maybe I’m just foolin’ myself! Maybe they’ll never need me… again!”

the main stories of What If? (1977) #29 and #31

What If? #29 was published in July 1981. The main story was written by Steven Grant, penciled by Alan Kupperberg, and inked by Al Gordon. It was titled “What If… the Avengers Were the Last Superheroes on Earth?” and was 19 pages. It was based on the story of Avengers Annual #2, which was published in July 1969, and which I read recently. That issue was written by Roy Thomas, penciled by Don Heck and Werner Ross, and inked by Vince Colletta.

In the original story the then-current Avengers were transported to an alternate universe where the original Avengers had been tricked by the Scarlet Centurion into getting rid of all super-powered beings, good and bad, thinking that that would make the Earth a utopia. The new Avengers had to defeat the old Avengers, then the Scarlet Centurion, before being sent home. In this story that later team of Avengers never appeared, and the original Avengers had the realize the error of their ways and defeat the Scarlet Centurion to stop his invasion of Earth, before disbanding forever, leaving no superheroes left on Earth.

Tony ends the story saying, “We were no better than the Scarlet Centurion! We sought to make miracles- and forgot that we were only men! And yet, I can’t help thinking that there could have been something nobler… something better… something more than this fleeting memory of tragedy and glory… called the Avengers!”

What If? #31 was published in November 1981. The main story was written by Rich Margopoulos, penciled by Bob Budiansky, and inked by Mike Esposito. It was titled “What If… Wolverine Had Killed the Hulk?” and was 20 pages. It’s specifically depicting what would have happened if Wolverine had killed the Hulk in his first appearance in The Incredible Hulk (1968) #181, which was published in July 1974.

Logan kills the Hulk on only the second page of the story, and the rest of the story is about what follows. On the third page we see Betty cry, “We should have tried to help him- not hurt him! And now… Oh, Daddy! Daddy…!” And General Ross think, “Rest in peace, Banner. You deserve it.

Logan wasn’t ordered to kill the Hulk and was only supposed to capture him, but he got angry during the fight. Later, Logan kills a civilian in a bar fight, having “lashed out.. without thinking!” He runs away, thinking, “Blast! Years o’ psycho-trainin’ an’ drug therapy… fer what? I’m still a killer at heart! Always was! Always will be!” He ends up being recruited by Magneto, who assumed when he saw that the Hulk had been killed, “This can only be the handiwork of a Homo Superior! Only a mutant much like ourselves could have destroyed the Hulk!” Though, of course, Logan ends up betraying Magneto for the X-Men. At the end he wants to kill Mangeto, but the X-Men don’t let him, and Magneto uses his powers to make Logan kill himself.

Captain America (1968) #109

This issue was published in October 1968. It was written by Stan Lee, penciled by Jack Kirby, and inked by Syd Shores. It was 20 pages.

In issue #109 Nick is verbally dismissive of Steve’s plight. When Steve talks about being too young for his age, yet too old for the role he lives, Nick says, “You shoulda warned me, Rogers- and I’da brung my crying towel! I ain’t about to knock yer hang-up, but- There’s plenty’a guys my age who wouldn’t mind bein’ in your shoes! From where I sit, what’s so bad about lookin’ like Joe College- and bein’ able to fight like a wildcat- at your age?” But when Steve starts monologuing about all of the people who contributed to him becoming Captain America, Nick thinks, much more seriously, “Man! Is he carryin’ a king-size chunk of memories inside’a him! Ya can almost see the past comin’ back- wrappin’ itself around ‘im- trapping him like it always does- never lettin’ ‘im go free!”

In the flashback to Steve volunteering for the military and being deemed physically unfit, he says, “I hate war- and senseless bloodshed- but I can’t stay behind- while others do the fighting! You’ve just got to accept me!” This was before the United States joined WWII, during the peacetime draft of 1941, which had even higher standards than the later wartime draft, when restrictions decreased because of the need for men. The doctor is initially confused as to why Steve is there because he’s obviously not 1-A and so wasn’t drafted and ordered to be there.

Earlier, one of the villains declared, “None but we pure-blooded Nazis are the true superior race!” When Steve’s transformation with the super-soldier serum is successful, Dr. Reinstein declares that “he stands before you- the first of an army to come- an army of the most perfect physical specimens on Earth!” He continues, “My serum will virtually wipe out disease- weakness- infirmity! Rogers is not super-human- but he has become a nearly perfect human being!”

Steve says that while he was undercover in the army as a regular, but incompetent soldier, “The only one who didn’t think me the world’s most most pitiful Private was Bucky Barnes, the regimental mascot- a teenager who had been orphaned when his dad was killed in action-!”

In Captain America Comics #1, after Bucky walked in on Steve changing out of his Captain America costume, Steve told him, “From now on we must both share this secret together… That means you’re my partner, Bucky!”

In the retelling of that event in Tales of Suspense (1959) #63, when Steve wondered aloud what to do, Bucky said to him, “Gosh, Cap- there’s only one thing you can do! You’ve gotta let me share in your mission! Now that I know your secret- I’ll be your partner! You’ve got to Cap!” Steve said, “Looks like I’ve got no choice! If this was the Third Reich, I’d have to shoot you to keep my secret safe! But we don’t do things that way! It’s a deal, lad! From now on, it’ll be Captain America- and Bucky!”

Also, in that issue it was said that, “When Bucky Barnes’ G.I. father died in training, Fort Lehigh adopted the orphaned boy as camp mascot!”

In this issue’s depiction of Bucky becoming Steve’s sidekick, Bucky says, “I’ll keep your secret, Cap- I swear it! All I ask is- Let me join you! Let me be your partner!” And Steve says, “I guess I have no choice!”

At the end of the issue, Nick says, of Bucky’s death, “I know how his loss must’a hit ya, fella! I guess every Joe who’s seen combat hadda watch a buddy die- some time or other! There’s some things ya can forget- but that sure ain’t one of ‘em!”

Timely Publications:

the Captain America stories in Captain America Comics (1941) #21-22 and U.S.A. Comics (1941) #6

These issues were cover dated December 1942 to January 1943. They contained 6 Captain America stories, ranging from 12 to 19 pages.

In “Captain America: The Creeper and the 3 Rubies of Doom” (writer unknown; penciled by Al Avison; inked by Syd Shores, George Klein, and a third unknown person) in Captain America Comics #21, Steve holds Bucky back twice. First, while they’re following someone, Steve says, “Back, Bucky! Back, lad!” And Bucky says, “Gosh, he almost saw me that time, Cap!” Second, Steve physically grabs Bucky, while Bucky was charging towards the villains, and says, “No, no, lad! Not so fast,” because he wants to attack them in a different way than Bucky intended.

In “Captain America: Satan and the Sorcerer’s Secret” (writer unknown; penciled by Pierce Rice and unknown; inked by George Klein and unknown) in Captain America Comics #21, Steve suggests that Bucky stay at the camp while he goes on a Captain America mission. Bucky says, “Not on your life! I’m going with you!” Steve says, “I have a hunch this will be a very dangerous mission!” And Bucky says, “Since when have I been afraid of danger?” Steve responds positively to this, but later tells Bucky, “Listen, kid, you must get back to camp! There’s something very weird going on and I don’t want you mixed up in it! I mean it, Bucky!” And Bucky relents, saying, “Gee, Cap, if you feel that way about it, o.k. I’ll start back in the morning!”

Bucky is kidnapped in the night, and when Steve wakes up, before he sees the ransom note, he says, “He wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye, unless he was angry because I was sending him back to camp!” Then when he reads the note, he says, “If this… this Sorcerer harms Bucky, I’ll tear him limb from limb!” Later, when Steve and Bucky go after the Sorcerer, Steve says, “Keep back, Bucky! He’s mine!”

Earlier, the Sorcerer, who was empowered by Satan, killed people by making eye contact with them with his “gaze of death.” When Steve fights Satan, he wins because, as the narration says, “something shining from the indomitable Captain America’s eyes, something of the indestructible good of mankind, stops the evil one!” Satan declares, “I shall come again when the time is ripe, when there is no longer a Captain America to champion good!” And Steve declares, “There will always be an American to fight for mankind against the forces of evil!”

In “Captain America: The Vault of Doom” (writer unknown; penciled by Ed Winiarski and unknown; inked by Ernie Hart, George Klein, and unknown) in Captain America Comics (1941) #22, Bucky is nearly sacrificed by Dr. Eternity on an alter. At the end of the story, when Steve and Bucky get back to Camp Lehigh, Bucky says, “Well, Cap, one thing I know is my cot’ll be a lot more comfortable than the Vault of the Departed Spirits!”

[sassylady1103]

Nuka Scorched

Colleen and I had decided to head west of Charleston toward the river. She said when she was young, Mama and Papa would take her there to go boating, fishing and picnic. We did family outings in the Vault…as much as we could being confined in an underground space…but I wish I could have seen this world with my parents as Colleen had.

We ambled along the empty riverbed of the Kanawha river away from Charleston. As we passed a huge nuclear power facility, we could see a few people working on the huge towers and outside structures in an effort to get the plant up and running again. Colleen said she had spoken to them and they were former Vault engineers that had worked on the generators to keep the Vault powered all those years. She believes they’ll have this plant up and running in a few weeks, which means she won’t need to rely on a generator for the apartment, though she’ll keep one as backup. The team has found that the plant seems to attract Scorched by the dozens and Colleen took them to AVR to be vaccinated. They must have been grateful to have run into her that day!

We stuck to the dry river bed on a slight descent. Colleen said that was because we were going toward the river. At one point, we met a man digging in the river bed. We said hello and talked about what good weather we had today. Colleen was making like she was ready to move on, but I just needed to know what that man was digging for! “Gold!” he told me. “Haven’t you heard? There’s good all over these hills, and I aim to find it!” I wanted to ask what he needed gold for, but Colleen gave me a look, so we wished him luck and moved on. I asked Colleen if she’d heard this before and she said she’d seen a few gold diggers. She mentioned that a woman named Duchess, who owned a bar called the Wayward near Flatwoods, said people were coming in droves to Appalachia in search of some big treasure. Duchess didn’t know much more, though. I think I may have to do some research…if gold is that valuable, maybe I should be looking too!

Eventually we could see what looked to be some sort of prewar plant in the distance. I asked Colleen if she knew what it was. “This is what I wanted you to see! It’s an old Nuka Cola plant where they made Nuka Cola and bottled it! When I was in school, we had a field trip here and got to tour the plant and see how our favorite Nuka flavors were made. I remember getting my picture taken with Bottle and Cappy….I was so excited.” Her expression, which I hadn’t seen in years, was pure happiness as she talked about her memories of that field trip. I wanted it to last, but she quickly turned sheepish and said “I mean, I was a kid and at the time…we didn’t have any other cares in the world….but I thought you’d enjoy it, so I wanted to bring you. It’s relatively safe, barring a few ghouls. What do you think?” I laughed as I said “I think I love it! Let’s go!”

The Nuka Cola plant was amazing! There’s a giant bottle of Nuka Cola on the roof! The biggest I’ve ever seen! I grabbed my camera and started taking pictures. This was the best thing I’d seen outside the Vault, except maybe the book house.

Colleen noticed I was taking pictures and asked if I’d like her to take some of me with Bottle and Cappy, the way she had when she was young. I told her only if I could take some of her too! She laughed and it was good to hear.

We got to the entrance and took photos with a Bottle statue before going into the building. Inside was a reception area, and when we went further into the building, there was a giant bottle of Nuka Cola, floor to ceiling in a huge open space. I think my jaw dropped to the floor. I had never seen anything like this!

“Come on” Colleen pointed toward a staircase off to the side “ if I remember correctly, the flavor labs are up there.” We climbed the stairs, and sure enough, we found the labs and I found a terminal that still worked that had information on all the flavors Nuka Cola was testing before the war. We even found some customer evaluations in the tasting area!

“Hey, Col! Do you think we could make up our own flavor recipes and bottle them? Wouldn’t that be crazy?” Colleen laughed, but then she looked very serious. “What if we could? And if we could add anything we wanted to it?“ she said. “What do you mean ‘add something’?” I could see her brain working quickly. “What if I could work out a way to incorporate the vaccine into a Nuka Cola and that way I could take the vaccine to them, rather than trying to get them to come to Charleston?” “That’s a great idea, Colleen! Do you think it will work?” I already knew it would by the look on her face.

We looked around a bit more and then headed out to get our camp set up by the river. Sitting by the fire after putting the tent up, I thanked Colleen for bringing me here. The river was beautiful and peaceful. I could hear insect sounds and frogs. It was so good to be able to spend this time with Colleen and exploring. I couldn’t wait to see more of the world, but first, sleep.

Forever the explorer,

Mags

[bookshelf-dust]

I'M HERE TO REQUEST AGAIN<33

could you write a fic where reader (established relationship with Gareth) is at the Hideout to listen to the band and a guy starts hitting on them? and Gareth gets jealous (not in a toxic way though). thank you<3

saturday’s at the hideout

gareth emerson x gn!reader

word count: 1,125

warnings: swearing, gareth has insecurities, flirting, fluff

a/n: hi pal!! thank you for requesting!!! i hope this turned out okay. i’m feeling iffy about it. i also may have made gareth a little grumpy because i like gareth the grump. enjoy!! <333

————

You bounce your leg where it rests on one of the supports underneath your chair. You feel yourself get slightly more nervous as people file in.

It’s not nearly this crowded on Tuesday’s, but it’s a Saturday night, and it seems everyone and their mom has decided to come to the Hideout tonight.

They don’t usually play on Saturday’s, but recently they’ve been asked to play more often, which Gareth may or may not have jumped up and down about.

You find yourself getting nervous because the more people there are, the better the chance of an increased creep population there is.

The boys have been on stage for awhile, and their set is almost up.

Gareth catches your eye during a few seconds when he’s not playing, one hand on a cymbal to quiet it, the other doing that obnoxious twirl of his drumstick that you pretend to hate.

He raises his eyebrows at you. A silent, you okay?

You nod, and there’s a split second where his eyes dart somewhere behind you before he starts playing again.

The table you’re sitting at is small and seats two, the kind where the chairs face each other. The kind for couples on dates.

Someone moves to stand in front of you, and you think they’re going to take the other chair for themselves, for a bigger party, but they drag it to the spot next to you.

You turn your head, utterly confused at this guy’s appearance. You go to say something that will make them fuck off, but you realize you know the guy. Michael, you think, remembering his name.

You went to high school with him, and you were lab partners with him for what felt like forever then.

While that calms your fear of it being some perv, in school this guy wasn’t exactly someone you would’ve liked to be best friends with. He was the kind of guy you could put up with as a lab partner, but not in any other situation. The person you put up with because you had to. Frankly because he was a douche.

“Holy shit,” you say, sitting up and trying your best to be sweet.

“Hey! I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” he tells you.

“Me either.” You set your hands in your lap, twisting around a ring Gareth gave you.

“It’s just been so long! I thought I’d see what you were up to these days. I won’t keep you long though, I promise.” He offers a sweet grin.

You look away for a second, glancing at Eddie. This is one of his favorite songs to perform and you love to watch him. He’s electric up there, thriving off of the energy from the crowd—way more than five drunks tonight.

“Not much,” you tell Michael. “College. This.”

You smile easily, and he seems to find something in it.

“You know someone in the band?” His voice is kind, curious. You think that maybe he’s turned around some post-high school.

You lift your hand to gesture in the direction of the stage.

“The drummer?” His eyes find Gareth. “He’s my boyfriend. The rest of the band are his best friends, so kind of mine too, I suppose.”

“Oh that’s so nice! They’re really good.”

“Aren’t they? What’ve you been up to?” You ask, not wanting to sound like a dick.

“Same as you. College. Fraternity stuff,” you internally roll your eyes, “trying to figure out what to do when I graduate, that kind of thing.”

“That sounds fun! I hope you find something you like doing.”

It’s then that Gareth looks toward the crowd after he’s had his head tossed back, and he finds you, talking to some guy.

He feels jealousy kick in his chest, and he tries to tamp it down, because the guy is getting up, leaving you alone, and your eyes are on him again.

————

“Hey, Eddie! You were so good tonight! Very badass, if I may.”

Eddie grins wildly at you, offering a sweaty hug. “Thank you, my liege.”

You see a mop of brown curls appear behind him from the back of the building, and run around to met him.

“Hi, pretty boy!” Gareth grabs hold of you as you throw yourself at him, eager to spoil him with praise.

“Hey.” The way he says it makes you pull back, and you immediately know something’s wrong. It’s hard for him to hide things from you these days.

“What’s the matter? And don’t say nothing because I’ll kick your ass, Emerson.”

He rolls his eyes at you, but it’s more so because he knows you, and knows these feelings are silly, but he can’t help it. They’re the result of being bullied his whole life, he supposes.

“Who was that guy earlier? He was sitting with you.”

Gareth avoids your eyes.

“Oh.” He hates the way you say that, that you understand him so well. “That was Michael. He was my lab partner when we were in school. Just wanted to catch up.”

He scratches his nose, but drops his hand when you take his face in both of yours.

“Hey. Are you jealous?”

“No.”

“It’s okay if you are, but there’s no reason to be,” you tell him.

“I’m not.”

“Gareth,” you plead.

“Fuck. Yeah, I’m jealous, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. But you don’t have to worry about that, I swear.”

You push some of his sweaty curls back from his forehead, and grab a hair tie from your wrist to tie the top half up. He’s been growing it out lately, and it along enough that you can do so.

“He’s a frat boy, Gare.” You speak as you handle his hair. “He sounded nicer than in high school, but the fraternity thing is more than enough to make him a hazard.”

Gareth laughs, and you feel an immense relief at the sound. You grin at both that and the finished knot on the crown of his head.

“Really, I am sorry though,” he tells you. “I just get insecure sometimes. That I’m not good enough for you.”

“I know. But please don’t think that, honey. You’re everything to me, are you kidding?”

You take both of his hands, and you can feel a new callous on his palm, which you’ll have to look at later. He’s very good at cracking his skin open.

“Also, you looked insanely hot up here. Seriously. Don’t get me started. I could write an essay on how good you looked.”

Gareth goes bright red. “Oh yeah? Well I expect this essay on my desk come Monday morning. 8am sharp. No sooner, no later.”

You laugh brilliantly, and kiss him on each cheek.

“I’ll get right on it, Gare bear.”

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33