#I was listening to a radio show about the new adaptation of The Count of Monte Cristo and they praised Edmond as another really good piece

[thebusylilbee]

btw guys I know Cyrano de Bergerac is a very popular play so please if you've ever enjoyed it you should absolutely check out the movie Edmond (2019), dir. Alexis Michalik. It's inspired by the real story of how Cyrano was written by its author Edmond Rostand and it's absolutely HILARIOUS. the dude managed to produced the most successful french play incredibly fast while being basically held at gunpoint (metaphorically), it's really super funny and quite lovely too

[belphies-cowgirl]

little things they do for you

word count: 900+

content warning: mentions of body image (if I am missing anything please let me know and I will add it!)

Lucifer

invites you into his study whenever he gets a new record. he prefers listening to it with you in his arms. also, he'll play the piano for you if you ask him.

will praise you for minor or major accomplishments. even if you don't think something deserves praise he gives it to you anyways. he's so proud of his human. 

wakes you up gently by rubbing your back or your shoulder. sometimes if you've stayed up late studying or working he peppers your face with gentle kisses (he will drag you out of bed lovingly if he needs to)

Mammon

will hype you up and be your partner in crime. will indulge in creating chaos or doing something stupid with you. you have his full support and he'd do anything for you, even if it results in him getting strung up by Lucifer. he'll happily take the blame and punishments for you. 

will let you have control over the radio and heat/ac settings in his car. will let you put your feet up on the dashboard too. he bought a car charger for you in case you forget to bring yours and he'll order for you in the drive-thru (has what you want memorized, but still asks if you want something else) 

helps you with chores. does laundry with you and carries your laundry basket (cleans out the lint trap for you too) does the dishes with you, he washes while you dry or vice versa. moves furniture for you while you vacuum (let him woo you by showing off his strength) want to rearrange your room at 3 am? he'll help you. 

Levi

if you're into cosplay he'll make outfits for you. he'll make sure it fits perfectly and has some wiggle room for comfort.

will let you sit on his lap and help you get through hard levels or help you find new areas and items. will guide your hand with his while doing so and praise you. 

if you're anxious about something he'll try anything to ease some of your anxiety. he'll give your hand reassuring squeezes or talk you through a breathing exercise or simply listen to you talk about what's making you anxious. he'll look up more ways to deal with anxiety and practice them with you. 

Satan

texts you quotes from books or poems that remind him of you or when he wants to be romantic. he sometimes takes inspiration from romance novels when planning a date. also surprises you with flowers for no reason. 

will help you study or write an essay. teaches you how to color code, organize, find proper resources, and reassures you that you're doing a good job. he'll be patient and adapt his techniques to any learning style you prefer. 

will spend hours with you in a bookstore, and carry any books you want to buy. if you like to spend a decent amount of time in certain genre aisles, he'll grab books you can't reach or just be content standing near you while you look through the books. 

Asmo

want an outfit that didn't come in your size or was sold out? he'll somehow get it for you or make one for you. need some alterations done? say less. see something you like but you're low on funds? say less. 

have any pain, discomfort, or trouble relaxing? he's got heating pads, pain relievers, an aroma diffuser, bath salts, anything you can think of for pain relief or relaxation. he also gives really good massages. 

will help you with any insecurities you may have. reassuring words, compliments, and sticky notes on any mirrors to remind you that you're beautiful and are worthy of so much more than you think you deserve. will buy you products that help enhance your natural beauty. he'll also help you take care of yourself with little reminders or help you establish and keep up with a daily routine.

Beel

lets you wear his clothes if you're having one of those days where you just want to hide your body or just want to feel super comfy and smell like him.

he reminds you to eat every day. he understands if it's hard sometimes for you to eat at least 3 meals a day or eat when you're not feeling well. will ask if you'd like some of his food or if he can make you anything. will also let you steal food off his plate. 

will support you and keep you motivated if you want to work out. he'll get on the treadmill next to you or go for a walk with you. anything you want to do he'll do it with you. shares his water bottle with you if yours is empty. will make smoothies, protein shakes, or trail mix with you. he'll encourage body positivity, but won't cross any boundaries or make you uncomfortable. 

Belphie

gives you space and understands if you don't want to take a nap with him or cuddle. will offer to let you borrow one of his blankets or pillows to sleep with instead.

will comfort you if you have nightmares or trouble sleeping. don't feel secure after a nightmare? he'll hold you close or act like a weighted blanket for you. 

lets you kick him in your sleep and he'll adapt to any of your sleeping positions. want to sleep like a starfish with one leg up on the wall? that's fine, he'll make room for you and find a different way to cuddle.

✄ ——————————————————————

feel free to comment, reblog, shoot me a message, or an ask <3

please do not use my work as your own! 

[niexigo]

I gotta bunch of Hazbin fic/au ideas in my head. I doubt I'd do any of them, but I'd like to share for others to try.

1: if alastor actually joined the Vees, he'd have to adapt to the present tech and not just stay a radio host.

This is the thought that if Al accepted Vox's invitation to the Vee's, Vox would either encourage, or make alastor upgrade to the current technology.

Alastor would still be his show-y self, but he'd be way more modern. Basically just a clone of Vox if he was less pathetic. (joking, love my flat faced Prince)

This could just be another radiostatic/radiosilence fic, though I like the thought of a twist, with alastor actually hating this, and eventually having a massive brake down. Him never saying/doing anything because he was either in to deep already, or because his soul was owned, and couldn't do anything if he wanted to.

Also because I picture Vox as a clingy bastard, Vox would basically make alastor do everything with him. Maybe it's just at the beginning, but now they're more of a duo then individual single overlords.

Going more in detail, While Vox would still be in charge of making tech while also being a talk show host and things like that, Al would be more public eye media. Not just radio, but TV and live streams as well. To make it make sense, velvet would be social media, apps and things like that, while Vox and Al would be more TV. The difference is like Youtube and Cable. You know which generation watched more of the other. Though in this, Vox would be more in the background, working on technical stuff, while Al would be more limelight, actually on screen and things like that. Idk, does that make sense? He'd basically be Vox's show pony.

This could also be included with Vox’s whole cult thing. I’ve heard that Vox was a cult leader (televangelist specifically) when he was alive, so maybe he’d make Al join that somehow as well.

I do kinda seeing the two doing everything on and off screen together. Maybe not happily, at least on Al’s side, but they’d do it because 1: Vox was the one who invited Alastor in the first place, 2: Vox is basically Al’s only “friend” out of the Vee’s, and 3: Vox is a clingy bastard. (JkJk)

I’m writing this like I could be a fic, but what got me more excited about those would be Alastor’s new design. He couldn’t just be himself, as he’s already adapted this much, a new outfit would be the bare minimum. Probably a new name too, but but ya know. I couldn’t draw it (I can barely draw the man as it is), but ya know. Maybe throw in some blue or black in there, all the Vee’s have a secondary color with their red/pink, so Al should not be all red.

If this was a fic, I’d love to see it. I definitely couldn’t write it, as I’m more into romance and think this is too technical for me, I’d think I’d be good. I still have bunch of ideas about this, so if you want more, ask.

I know this isn’t a particularly new idea, but I wanted to share my take on it. Idk, maybe my take isn’t that original though. While this was inspired by other take on if Alastor joined the Vee’s, it skyrocketed after listening to “Count the Ways” by Dheusta. I know that it’s a fnaf song, but his impression of Funtime Freddy just reminded me of Alastor’s aura, just a bit more tech-y.

Anyway, I got two more ideas after this. All Vox/Alastor based (can you tell they’re my favorite), but I can’t share them here pre else this will be too long. I’ll show them later, but this is it for now.

[dawl-and-dapple]

rating: general word count: 1443

Essek and Jester being sweet, based on the non-sexual intimacy prompt 'escorting the other to a doctor/ therapist appointment' given by @mllekurtz

***

Can you drive me to the dentist next week pretty please?

It’s been almost a year since Essek had first been asked to give one of his friends a lift. The requests had slowed somewhat since Caleb finally got himself his own car two months ago, but he is not yet necessarily free from this particular duty. Now he receives a text asking to be driven out of town most often when Caleb is occupied with work, sick, or inebriated.

These texts used to make him wince. After some time they made him smile. These days, they tend to catch him a little off-guard.

Is Caleb not available? he responds.

No, Jester texts back, he’s got an appointment too. Are you gonna be busy?

No, I will be available. I’ll drive you.

Thank you!! I’ll meet you outside the school like usual!! Love you so much!!!!

Essek puts away his phone. He remembers where Jester’s dentist is from the last time she had him drive there. There’s a nice café two blocks away where he could wait out her appointment, reading and enjoying a cup of tea, before driving her home again. He puts his mind to picking out which book to bring.

Five days later, when Essek arrives in the small car park across from the art college, he’s twenty minutes early. He occupies himself by methodically checking his emails, texts, then social media.

Caleb has sent him a photo of Frumpkin playing with his television’s cables. Essek asks if he’s forgotten about his therapy appointment. Caleb responds with a photo taken through a windscreen of a city road, blocked with traffic as far as the eye can see, and a text reading, I wish I had.

Someone knocks on Essek’s window.

“Hey!” Jester’s nose presses up against the glass. “You got here early,” she says, muffled. “You should have let me know.”

“I am not going to encourage you to leave class early, Jester.” He opens the passenger door.

“Boo.” Jester flops into the seat and begins buckling herself in as Essek starts the engine. “We could have hung out a little! We’ve all been so busy since the summer and I miss you, you know. I wanna know how you’ve been! Do you wanna talk about work? Probably not. How about, um, how’s the new flat? I heard Caduceus helped you settle in.”

“I have been well,” Essek says as he pulls out of the car park. “You remember that miniature flower bed you helped me build on my windowsill? I have been growing a little basil plant there.”

“Oh! Have you used the leaves to make anything?”

Essek winces. Of the scant few recipes he could reliably prepare, most are from his home. He’d failed to find a Xhorhasian supermarket in the area after moving and had taken it as a strong sign to try working with what he’d been given. But his lack of experience cooking anything at all made adapting that much harder.

“The cooking part...I am working on that. I will be asking for Caduceus’ guidance again.”

“I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it,” Jester says airily while digging through the small collection of audiobooks and music discs in the door compartment. “How long have you had these? Caleb’s car doesn't even have a CD player. Oh, I bet Caleb could help!” She grins at his reflection in the internal mirror. “He can make some very tasty Zemnian meals, you know.”

“I do know. I believe I’ve eaten one or two prepared by him at a dinner party with the others.”

“You should ask him to teach you the recipes.”

“I might. What did you get up to today? Painting? Sculpting?”

Jester smirks. She answers him, goes on to talk about her current project (a ten-foot-tall collage of hundreds of vintage pinup photographs, though Essek cannot parse the meaning of it). Essek gets the distinct impression that she’s barely holding herself back from needling him more.

As they reach the edge of the city, the traffic slows. A heavy sense of doom overcomes Essek, while Jester flips through the radio channels.

Someone behind Essek honks. He grits his teeth.

“Oh, the traffic here is pretty bad, huh.”

Essek flexes his hands around the steering wheel. “Yes, it seems so.”

Jester turns the radio off. “Do you have to be anywhere after this?”

“No,” he replies. The car comes to a dead halt. “I do not.”

Jester bounces in her seat as if she might be able to peer over the roofs of the dozens of gridlocked cars ahead of them. “Oh man,” she says. “I’d get there faster if I walked.” She goes quiet. After a heartbeat she smiles and turns towards Essek. “Hey Essek? Do you have any sexy audiobooks?”

“What?”

“Like, do you have a CD in here of someone reading a porn book out loud.”

“No, why would I have–?”

“That’s okay, I can plug my phone into the dashboard.”

“Please, Jester.”

“Okay!” She laughs, tucking her phone back into her jacket pocket. “What CDs do you have? All the titles are in Undercommon...”

“Most are audio documentaries. There are two about special relativity, one about magnetism, and one on the life of a particular astrophysicist. There’s also a rock album in there somewhere; my brother gave it to me as a joke.”

Jester snorts.

“I am very boring, aren't I?”

“No!” Jester suddenly grabs his shoulder and shoves him around in his seat, which would have worried him were they moving at any velocity at all. “You’re not! Essek, you’re very fun and interesting.”

Essek smiles as he’s shaken from side to side, keeping his eyes on the traffic jam ahead. “I am very fun and interesting,” he repeats.

She finally stops shoving at his shoulder. “I should get you some new fun CDs for your car. I don’t even know where to buy CDs these days, but I'll get you some.”

“Can you promise there will be no more than one pornographic item in this collection?” he asks, raising his brow at Jester in the mirror.

“Oh, sure.”

“Then, as they say, go wild.”

“Neat. Hey! I know we’ve all been super busy lately but I bet we can do, like, a dinner party or something. Just one evening. Yasha got back into town this week and Veth says Luc has been spending most weekends at his friends’ houses so she can come over. Maybe a Saturday night?” She’s pulled out her phone already. “We can just hang out in my and Fjord’s flat for a while. Or yours!”

“I do not think I have enough space for nine.”

“But would you be free?”

He thinks. “Next weekend, yes.”

Jester pumps her fist in the air. “Awesome! I’ll text the others.”

The traffic moves ever so slightly. Essek watches the cars ahead of him like a cat watching a bird.

“Beau might be the busiest but I bet she’ll want to come. Oh, Caleb can cook something with Caduceus! One of those meals you liked.”

“Uh, maybe.”

“Maybe you can show him a recipe you know too. Try that sometime.”

“Hm.” The car in front finally budges. Essek inches forward.

“I bet he’d love that, Essek.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I know you don't think you’re a good cook, but I remember that rice meal you made when I came over last spring and it was good!”

Now they’re driving again, if at no more than five mph. Essek grips the wheel.

“Make that meal, put on a good movie, wear something cute — that black top with the long sleeves I think — and it’ll be smooth sailing. Trust me, Fjord was no match for the tried and true Lavorre Technique.”

“Hm.”

“And then maybe you can finally talk to him about your big fat crush on Cay-leb.”

The car directly ahead halts. Essek swears and steps on the brake. He stares at Jester. “Pardon?”

She just grins at him.

“I was not listening. Sorry.”

“Oh that’s okay,” she croons, “But guess what…”

Essek is familiar with this tone. It doesn't scare him as much as it used to; he’s developed somewhat of a pavlovian response to her mischief in spite of his initial displeasure. As her grin widens, Essek feels a mirrored anticipatory smile spread across his face.

“You’re stuck in here with me,” she sings, waving her index fingers side-to-side with each word, “and we’re stuck in here together, and I wanna know the truth. So…” She leans forward. “Don’t you like him?”

Essek, face hot, but still smiling, reaches for the radio fast enough to fumble the air conditioning.

[1ddiscourseoftheday]

Thurs 4 Feb ‘21

Confirmation is here at last of Harry’s role in the film adaptation of My Policeman, brought to us by queer fave Greg Berlanti (and his husband). Harry will costar with Emma Corrin, who you may remember from the at the time inexplicable seeming Harry/Emma cross promo last August-- given the pains they took then to emphasize that the relationship was platonic, one assumes this film will go for a different promo tactic than the current one! They share a stylist though, so they’ll no doubt be beautifully coordinated. Harry will play Tom, which some people object to on the grounds that Harry is the wrong person to play the role of a closeted man which is certainly… one opinion. Aaaaand there’s plenty more of that discourse (and about him playing a policeman) to come over the coming months so I’ll just leave it there for now! Anyway and as for that current project, we got more DWD set pics today, featuring Harry in various costume outfits! There’s ones where his character looks bloodied, and ones where his character looks clean but absolutely terrifying, grown up frat boy from hell looks to give you CHILLS, plus some of Harry as Harry in a bright orange hoodie designed by his friend Kunichi Nomura.There was also {moustache spoilers} some weird facial hair on display. Okay then!

Project Defenseless has been launched to push Defenseless up in the streaming charts and push for radio play! The fan single project offers resources and organized pushes to get people streaming and promoting on all the platforms and reaching out to radio, and has fans making lots of very cool edits besides! “I see what you’re doing with defenseless! You are all incredible!” said Louis. That song is such a fitting choice for this kind of project! Its journey has been all about the fan response from back when Louis played it for us for the very first time in 2019 (it was the one everyone was screaming about from soundcheck clips for the few hours between that and hearing the songs for real even) and afterwards he told us about how although he’d always liked the song it clicked for him in a new way after getting the fan reaction, saying “something happened to it when I performed it live, and ever since then it really kind of got me,” and “the fans make everything sound amazing, they made it sound so good,” and “the fans for whatever reason really took to this song, so now it has a special place in me heart definitely”. Plus of course there was the long saga of fan stress when it seemed like it might not be on the album and rejoicing when Louis finally definitively confirmed that it would be, after what seemed like might have been a reversal on his part due to the outcry about it. And now she’s climbing all kinds of charts like a the star she is! The song shot up on itunes (#3 worldwide, #1 in 16 countries) just for starters and the project has only just got going. Louis commented on the stats-- “An album track off an album that’s a year old. You lot blow my fucking mind! Thank you so much!”

Louis also commented on a Jack Saunders (BBC indie music DJ) tweet and followed guitarist Johnny Took of the DMAs on twitter which is weird only in that he didn’t already.

There’s news about Zayn’s Zach Sang interview, and it’s not the most surprising news but it is very sad; Zach says “hi beautiful humans, this convo was scheduled for last week but we got a rain check from his team. this conversation can still happen, it ain’t over yet! we’ll keep ya in the loop. I listened to this album 7 times! we’re determined” Well... damn. However Zayn DID pop up with some spon-content but like… the WEIRDEST ad content?? It’s for Coors Light and, well I’ll let Zayn tell you about it! “They’re gonna see if they can put a commercial inside your dreams... which is kind of messed up.” HAHAHAHA I have nothing to add! What Zayn said!!! “So we’re gonna give that a go and uh see if it works,” he says, sounding appropriately skeptical, followed by “wish me luck”. Does this kind of sponcon count as malicious compliance? Technically he DID say the stuff he was supposed to- and he’s doing an instagram live for them Sat, supposedly. I can’t wait to see how that goes! Wish him luck! The latest installment of the NIL comic book video series is also out today, but just one this time instead of a pair. This week’s song is Connexion and the new comic shows us that the figure pursuing our hero is, drumroll-- himself! The call is coming from inside the house!

Unlike interview shy Zayn, however, Gigi is out there ready to overshare, as long as it’s to Vogue. She has plenty to say about giving birth to zaby Khai (newly revealed nickname: Khaiba) at home at the Pennsylvania farm. The article says that they decided to have the birth at home due to COVID placing restrictions on hospital births that would have prevented Bella and Zayn and Yolanda all being present, and after she and Zayn watched the documentary The Business of Being Born. “They placed a blow-up bath in their bedroom and sent their three cats and border collie away when the midwife expressed concern that the sphynx and Maine coon felines might puncture the tub with their claws,” the interviewer learns while horseback riding with Gigi. The article also says Zayn “caught the baby” but it isn’t a direct quote from Gigi and I’m thinking a bit of an exaggeration perhaps. Gigi had the baby at the Hadid family farm but she and Zayn have since relocated to live at his farm, which is nearby, where they say they will be raising the child, with Z’s mom Trisha coming to stay to help out for the first month, that Khai sleeps with them, and that Zayn said his experience of the whole thing reminded him of the birth in a lion documentary they’d watched. Neither mentioned it but it has been spotted that Gigi and Zayn each now have tattoos of the name, Khai, in Arabic.

Meanwhile, Niall surfaced only in golf guy mode- a Modest Golf announcement and a podcast appearance to promote the new Modest initiative to get young people into playing golf. He says they want to “get rid of that thing that’s been holding golf back for a long time, that it’s a boring sport…” and I know he means he’s trying to combat that idea but when I tell you I LAUGHED!

[may-day-voice]

Prom Night Lights | The Middle

Shouto Todoroki Timeline | 172732014

please do not repost, but you have permission to reblog :)

• Watch/ Listen on YouTube: https://youtu.be/7lymhRiqtrA

• Read on Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/1119594884-shouto-todoroki-pro-hero-au-172732014-prom-night

Seasons come and go - summer to winter, hot to cold, and we all adapt to the smallest changes. We strip off when the heat gets unbearable, and rug up when the chill bores to the bones. But every small change can affect us - past pains and injuries being the most sensitive to these things, and between these extremes, the smallest change could be the greatest and most powerful experience that could change you.

It could even break you.

A yawn escaped your lips while you stretched your arms up above your head, pulling at every fiber across your shoulders and chest. The graduation ceremony was long and arduous, despite you sitting in a chair for hours. Well, at least three hours, but who was counting?

You glanced around Heights Alliance, watching students walk to and fro. The atmosphere was a reminder of the hardships and the hard work put into your studies on and off campus. You recalled the training sessions, the Joint Training Exercise, the constant rivalry between the classes, which made you chuckle a little at the thought. And then there were the harder times - the War being one of a few. One that you could not assist, could not dive into the front lines, and especially, if not importantly, one that you couldn’t be beside-

“Can you believe we graduated?” piped Awase with a grin plastered on his face.

You wondered how he was doing now; what he must be thinking; how his family was going. You smiled while recalling the times you rendezvoused between dormitories worrying over the smallest things, mostly over studies. And then you remembered the radio silence when the War happened, including the slow days reconnecting with him again afterwards. It was a tough road paved with difficulties, only compounded by the fact that you were in a different class from him, constantly worrying and checking your phone.

“Hey, you okay?” asked Awase, concerned.

“Yeah, of course,” you piped, snapping out of your reverie. “Just wondering how 3-A must be doing.”

“So much has happened to them, huh?”

Yes, so much has happened, and you have been confused over the years. But you couldn’t tell if it was his aloofness or his sudden shift in behavior since the War, having to deal with the aftermath. Ever since the commencement of your second year in UA there was this tension in your gut; a heavy solid feeling that grew with anxiety outside of the times you had spent with him. On top of this, days leading up to graduation felt odd and a little strained. You had noticed a flock of students following him around campus, most likely those keen on inviting him as their date to the prom the academy decided to plan to celebrate the graduating year. The amount of students who fluttered around him left you hollow, feeling hapless to the hope of being his for the night.

You hoped he would have-

“Excuse me, hi!” Called a voice from behind you and Awase, finding another student walking up to you with an awkward smile. “You don’t know me but I wanted to ask, if you weren’t too busy that I could, I mean, I would like to take you out tonight, to the prom tonight.”

You stared, shocked at the proposal from a random student out of the blue. He looked a little rough around the edges, but you didn’t recognize him until you spotted his shoulders, his blazer adorned with buttons akin to the Support classes.

“They’d love to,” answered Awase, bringing you back to speed.

“What?” you exclaimed.

“That’s great, thanks,” piped the student with a beaming smile. “I’ll pick you up at six?”

“Six is perfect,” continued Awase with a smile of his own. “We’ll make sure they’re ready.”

The student smiled wider, happy to hear the answer before he walked away, returning back to his band of friends in the distance. All you did was stare at them before turning your eye onto Awase, still with that smile on his face.

“You’re welcome,” he said before continuing on his walk through Heights Alliance.

“Why did you do that?” You questioned while catching up to him. “I could answer for myself.”

“You stood there like a deer in headlights, so I stepped in as your proxy.”

You deeply sighed before you shoved Awase playfully by the shoulder, silent with your smile but still with a heavy weight on your own.

“Hey, Monoma’s been teasing you lately about not having a date for tonight,” explained Awase. “I just helped you secure no more embarrassment.”

“I don’t even know the guy, and besides, it’s easy for Monoma to say those things,” you muttered with a sceptical brow. “He’s got that fanatic that trails behind. Where are they from? General Studies?”

“Hey come on, not his fault there’s someone out there who tolerates him, let alone idolizes him.”

You still stared ahead with a distant look in your eye, your mind elsewhere. You had hoped otherwise. You hoped you would have heard from him about this special day, but after these weeks leading up to graduation, you hadn’t heard a word. Perhaps he wasn’t ready, still dealing with the War and his family, and having to deal with school on top of that. Conversations with him outside of it all were far and few between. Perhaps he already had a date, seeing those that flocked to him wanting to garner attention or his affection for the prom. Perhaps Awase intervening with that proposal out of the blue was a good thing.

“Look, now you have a date to the prom tonight,” he continued. “So you can’t go back against your word.”

“It’s not my word. You agreed to it,” you reiterated. “Maybe you can take him out, seems like a fair trade.”

Awase laughed at your retort, only causing you to smile in return. The plan was that Class 3-B was going as a whole group to the prom, date or no date, thanks to Monoma. He was extremely teasing towards you, knowing of your connections with Class 3-A and ignoring any other follies, such as Tetsutetsu and his bromance with Kirishima, or even Awase and his growing attachment with Yaoyoruzu. But you had not heard a word, and now with a proposed date to this prom, it would be unkind to reject it now. You rolled your eyes at the thought, recalling Monoma’s haughty tone and his ever-present need to show up Class 3-A, even after all of these years.

DING

Still, plans were made to go off the rails.

“Have you heard from any agencies?” Asked Awase, curious while his eye was on you. “Any takers?”

��No,” you trailed while you looked at your phone screen, replying back. “Have you?”

“A couple, but it’s still up in the air. Heard Class 3-A already have their responses.”

No surprise there, you thought. They were the leading class of Heroes to turnover in Musatafu, and gaining a reply from any agency was becoming a pipe dream. Hearing Awase already receiving offers only made your stomach drop a little. You’ve heard nothing, wondering if your Quirk was looking more like a liability than anything else.

As if by instinct, you began parting ways from Awase, your feet taking you away from your dormitories and onto another path, leaving him behind.

“Where are you going?” He called out as you parted ways.

“Off to see a friend,” you chirped while you pocketed your phone.

You ignored Awase’s few words behind you, something akin to Monoma’s plan for the prom before jogging across Heights Alliance towards Class 3-A’s dorms, now filled with its graduating class. Years of hopping between dorms had given you a reputation amongst your class, especially Monoma of all people. But the text message was undeniably from the one person you hoped to hear from:

Would you like to come over?

Graduation was officially over, at least the formalities, but hearing from Shouto Todoroki was a blessing in disguise. After all, you both agreed to see each other before the presumptuous prom of the night.

I’ll be there in a few minutes.

----

Reaching the large doors, you cautiously walked through to find a few of the students already relaxing in the lounge and foyer. A few were in mid-conversation, while others held up their phones in cheer. Awase was right to believe that the students of Class 3-A had already received offers to agencies once they stepped out into the world. You wouldn’t think anything less, seeing their smiles beam with joy, but your eyes glanced around with no luck locating Todoroki, until you spotted a certain brunette chiding away with friends in the foyer.

“Graduated at last, congratulations,” you chirped cheerfully while you walked your way towards Uraraka.

“You too,” she piped with a smile, turning to you. “Have you figured out what agency you’ll be placed in?”

“Not a word actually. I’m sure I’ll hear something.”

“Where have you applied?”

“Genius Office, Fat Gum, Fourth Kind, Oki Mariner…”

“Oh, that’s a good one! They could be taking their time. I only heard from a few five minutes ago.”

Well, there was hope yet if students were only receiving news just now, especially those from Class 3-A. A wash of relief swept through you, knowing that there was still time to hear any news of your residencies in Musatafu before you returned back to the task at hand.

“Have you seen Todoroki?” You asked, still looking around the foyer.

“I think he’s been cooped up in his dorm ever since we got back from Gym Gamma,” informed Uraraka thoughtfully. “He’s been awfully quiet. More than usual.”

Odd. For all you knew, Todoroki was becoming despondent over graduation, wondering if the event made him so. It was a big deal for everybody in UA, now stepping forward into another world, one that had transformed in and out of the school’s grounds.

“Thanks!” You quickly piped while you made your way towards the elevators. “See you tonight?”

Uraraka only smiled and waved, seeing you off before you entered the elevators. It was like every other day when you visited his dormitory. You recalled the floor and his door, even cringing at the thought when you arrived one too many times in the middle of the night, fretting over studies and non-existent practical exams. In fact, it was the only way to speak to him after all that he had been put through. And Todoroki had been nothing but supportive and attentive to your own worries.

A light tap on his door left you standing there by the hallways again, wondering what your response would be. It’s been a while since you actually talked with him, let alone heard any invitation to visit. You assumed the graduation was a big event for his family, always referring back to the War in your mind. Was it a good idea to visit him now that the official graduation ceremony was over? You hovered your hand above the door, wanting to knock again in case he missed the first time, but you began to wonder how he must be feeling. Already with a career in Hero Society paved for him, under his father’s name, in an established agency which by all accounts would be under question because of the family drama and his-

“This is stupid,” you mumbled, turning heel to leave before the click of his door caught your ear. You spotted him by the door, dressed casually and out of uniform, but not yet dressed for the night.

Of course, this prom was hours away.

“Oh, you made it,” he remarked, his aloof eyes staring at your almost-departed form.

“Of course, is everything okay?” You asked, returning back to his dorm door.

“I just wanted to say congratulations.”

“Oh no, all the congratulations goes to you, really.”

“Don’t sell yourself short.”

You smirked at him, a little embarrassed and a little nervous at his almost compliments, until you lightly punched him in the arm. “You asked me here to congratulate me?”

“I would be happy to meet you at your dorm if you wanted,” replied Todoroki before he stepped out from his door, shutting it behind him.

“Oh no, I would not hear the end of it from Monoma if you did.”

Todoroki chuckled while you spotted a sneaky smile from him. It was a pleasure to see him smile, even if it was brief. They were always hard to come by, and for a moment, you felt that only you could see them outside of everybody else. It made them special.

“So, have you heard from agencies?” You asked, catching Todoroki off guard. “I mean, it seems like everybody else has, and I was just curious.”

“I’m off to my father’s when I leave UA,” he replied bluntly.

“… oh.”

“And you?”

You gulped, a little paralyzed after realizing after the fact that he would ask the same question himself. “I’m… still waiting to hear back. I mean, everyone seemed to have received news not too long ago, so it shouldn’t be long now.”

“I hope so,” he replied with a smile. “You’ll do good out there.”

“You think so?”

All you saw was that smile, a larger one than the last unhidden from the world. It only made you feel warm inside, to know that he was in your corner, and open to express himself. It had been a long journey while he worked out what to do with his family and his future, tormented by the fact that-

“I asked you here because I wanted to ask you something,” he announced, catching your smiling eyes staring at him. “I know I’ve been quiet over the past few weeks. I needed to work some things out.”

“Oh, of course,” you replied. “Graduation is pretty big.”

“Yes, I needed to work out what I wanted to do and what my path was going to be once we all left here.”

He trailed a little, silent while he tried to put together the words he wanted to say. You saw it in his eyes, calculating what to do, as if he were training with you. Ever since being put together by your own choices to train one another, you had come to notice his little quirks, no pun intended. How he processed the situation, how he reacted, how he would assess his next move. It felt like that now, watching his eyes dart in thought, wondering what to say.

With all that was said, you wondered if he was trying to say farewell, even though the both of you would most likely see each other at this prom night for the graduating year. Yet he had clearly stated he wanted to ask you something on such a big occasion. And then it hit you, wondering if he was going to ask about the prom tonight. Just as he was deducing his next words, you tried to guess what they were.

Was he going to ask you-

“Would you like me to put in a word for you at my father’s agency?” He asked calmly.

“… what?”

“If you haven’t heard from any agencies by now, maybe you might not.”

That stung. You swallowed and processed his words, a little offended, but a little perplexed over the situation. Did he ask you to visit him so that he could-

“Are you offering me a place?” You asked back.

“Yes.”

“Out of pity?”

“No, I’m saying that I can get you a residency if other places don’t work out.”

“So I’ll do good but no other place would have me,” you stated, hurt.

“That’s not what I said.”

“It sounded like it.”

“I thought you’d be happy.”

“Yes, if I got in on my own merit, not because you’re able to pull some strings.”

It felt like there was a fire in your gut, the worst kind that seared so severely you felt nauseous with anger. You wanted nothing more than to leave, but something kept you here, still standing before Todoroki despite what he had called you over for. Did he truly believe that you weren’t ready or capable? Did those late study nights not prove how hard you wanted to put in the work? Or did he only see you for your faults all this time?

It was unfathomable.

“Todoroki, I appreciate your offer, I do, but you’re giving me something that I didn’t work for,” you explained, keeping calm and keeping your anger at bay.

“I wanted to say thank you for being there for me,” explained Todoroki, his eyes searching in yours. “You still reached out to me after everything that has happened, and I wanted to return the favor in any way I can. Please understand.”

Your mind trailed away for a moment, seeing the genuine look in Todoroki’s eyes. Despite his aloofness, you could see how much he saw in you, but the way he said it was-

“I can’t accept that,” you answered, looking into Todoroki’s eyes with sadness. “I can’t accept your offer. I'm sorry Todoroki.” You turned towards the elevator, leaving Todoroki behind before you realized the floor numbers were counting downwards.

“Where are you going?” Asked Todoroki, following after you.

“Back to my dorm to get ready for my date,” you informed him while you decided to head down the flight of stairs, despite being on the top floor of the dormitory. Todoroki stopped for a moment, ingesting your words in his head before he trailed after you, hopping down the stairs while he continued to question.

“You have a date?” he asked aloud.

“Yes, yes I do,” you immediately replied.

“Who are they?”

“He... is from Support.”

“What’s he like?”

“Nice guy? A little awkward.”

“So you don’t know him?”

You had only reached the fourth floor before turning to find Todoroki on your trail, his feet still on the stairs while he eyed you for an answer. You saw them searching, waiting for your breath, for you to speak.

“Why do you want to know?” You asked, part curious, part annoyed by his questioning.

The bell of the elevator took both of you out from the tension that grew in-between, finding Bakugou exiting the doors with a friend trailing behind him. It was a well-timed interruption, turning back onto Todoroki now calmer than he was moments ago.

“Nothing,” he answered in a low whisper.

“I’ll see you later,” you whispered to yourself, feeling eyes on you from the stairs other than his. All you were met with was a nod from Todoroki before you left him by the stairs, leaving with a bitter taste in your mouth.

Todoroki only stood by the stair railings, confused by your reaction, but more so his insistence. It was like a bout of energy surged through him all at once. Where did all of that come from? All of those questions interrogating you about a guy who asked you out as his date. It confounded him further about what he felt about you with somebody else. You were a friend, finding an affinity with each other despite you being in the other Hero class. But those nights studying and those days training were the closest he had ever grown to work with someone outside of his class. He even recalled how elated he felt when the classes could mix to find compatibility working together, having ever since worked alongside you.

Todoroki shook his head, wondering what this feeling was that was mixed in with his confusion until the sight of a familiar well-dressed student made their way to the elevators, immediately being able to board before they waved quickly towards him.

“See you tonight Todoroki,” they exclaimed before disappearing into the box.

He waved back, being met by a smile by the student and soon spotting Bakugou’s door still ajar to see how he was doing. A few words were exchanged between himself and the irate blond, noticing the frustrated look on his scowl, most likely from the student who had just left from his dorm. Todoroki knew too well of Bakugou’s dilemma for the past couple of years, only ever chatting in passing about the situation and also advising him.

“We all know he’s bad news. Nepotism at its best,” informed Todoroki.

“Look who’s talking Half-and-Half, son of the Number One,” spat Bakugou with disdain.

Todoroki felt the sting from his words, realizing his folly earlier. He should have realized how much of a hard-working person you were. It showed in your studies and your training, always pushing yourself to the best of your abilities despite the drawbacks, the flaws, and your failures. He loved that part of you. It left him perplexed after speaking with Bakugou, while he decided to make his way downstairs to where most of the class still spent their day.

Did he truly say something wrong? All he ever wanted was to help you in any way he could. And perhaps, after much reflection on the fact, he had only insulted you on an important day. Yet he thought he was giving you something you would have wanted. Or, was he wanting you instead?

——

Todoroki went about his day speaking to his classmates and hearing some good news between them all. Many of them were offered a residency into some fairly well-known agencies, either one or a few or a handful. And though they were primarily from their work studies, it was the best fit for many of them. Todoroki ignored some of the more exasperatedly whinier comments about his placement, but it was a given despite his own feelings about the situation. Soon, the entire class readied themselves for the night, including Todoroki who was interrogated a few times about being date-less for the prom. A simple shrug was all they received, explaining that he had declined all invitations, which almost broke Kaminari’s heart hearing that. Still, with the night early to begin the celebrations, Todoroki joined in with his classmates and friends alike, making their way to Gym Gamma.

He wondered about your date, this mysterious man who asked you out so suddenly. You had never been a liar, or at least you were a bad one for him to know. He deduced it must’ve been recent, no earlier than yesterday at least when you were asked. It still made him wonder why he chose you. Has he always admired you? Were you friends? Did you know more than you were letting him on? At the end, Todoroki began to wonder how different this man was to him.

Gym Gamma was in sight while all of his classmates made their way inside. Todoroki trailed behind until something caught his ear a distance away, drowned by the music that thumped against the walls of the auditorium. He strayed from the pack of students, walking along the side to find you with your wrist held tightly by a very inebriated man before the both of you disappeared around the auditorium. His feet suddenly flew, chasing after the both of you after spotting the concerned look on your face, even briefly around the corner. Todoroki soon laid eyes on your date, gripping your wrist with a wide grin on his face, drunkenly swaying with you and handling you carelessly while you tried to pull away.

“You’re my date, so let me be your date,” he cooed slovenly, his grip tightening on your wrist.

“Stop it, you’re drunk,” you yelled, pulling away from him, tugging at your wrist to no avail.

“I’m having fun,” he retorted, his grin wide and his breath lingering over your skin. “Don’t you want to have fun with me?”

“I’m not some toy, or some prize to show off to your friends, whoever they are!”

“They’re just teasing, come on.”

He pulled you in, closing the gap between the both of you before his breath washed onto your face, smelling the bitter and rancid smell of alcohol. You pushed against his chest, pulling your face away from his, his strength overwhelming until-

“No, let go of me!” you cried before you pulled back your hand, slapping his face hard. The slap pulled him out of his drunken reverie, but not without releasing you from his grip, finding a disdained look on his face, chuckling to himself from the assault before being refueled by rage.

“Who wants you anyway?!” he yelled back, pulling his own hand to return the favour.

Suddenly, his own wrist was gripped by another’s, pushing against a strength that overpowered his own. Todoroki stood beside you, his fingers gripping onto your date while he stared into his eyes, disapproving and venomous.

“I suggest you walk away,” he warned, watching your date flinch from the fractals of ice that began to frost across his skin and sleeve, prickling like needles. He pulled away violently, releasing his grip on you as well, walking away with a contempt scoff and affixing his attire before he stomped towards the auditorium. Todoroki kept an eye on him until he disappeared around the corner, most likely returning to the prom before he turned to you, standing there, ashamed and hurt.

The smell of alcohol still lingered, but now it no longer pervaded your senses while you fixed your own formal wear and hopped towards the wall of the auditorium outside, leaning against it, your eyes drawn towards the pavement. Throughout the mess of it all, you realised one of your shoes had fallen off, now missing part of the pair a short distance away. You felt Todoroki’s presence next to you, following after and standing by your side, leaning against the wall as well in an uncomfortable silence.

“Nice guy,” he commented.

“Shut up,” you retorted weakly, refusing to look him in the eye.

“Did he hurt you?”

“No.”

“Are you okay?”

A moment passed when it all fell silent, at least to you, still listening and feeling the vibrations of the music that echoed and reverberated through the walls. You felt like you drowned in it, washed in the overwhelming feeling of sadness that you couldn’t hold in. You breathed deeply, hoping that could staive the storm, but your tears burst from your eyes out of your volition.

“No, no I’m not,” you finally answered. “He’s right. No one wants me.”

Todoroki turned to you, watching your tears fall and holding in the hiccups that escaped your throat once or twice. He couldn’t explain it, but he hated that look on you.

“I’ve not heard back from anyone at all today. I don’t know why,” you continued, your mind elsewhere. “And, he only invited me to impress his friends, and we met up when he’s really drunk and, well, you saw what happened.”

With all that was going on for graduation, Todoroki watched and listened to your words, realising and processing his feelings over the matter. It wasn’t true. He wanted you, more than anything, comprehending his feelings and how he interpreted them all the same. Graduation was weighing on his mind just as much as any other student had all day, yet he realised now, in this moment despite what his future may hold, that this moment mattered. He eyed your shoe from afar, walking towards it to collect it from the ground until he stood before you, his eyes waiting for you to meet his.

“No, I don’t want to go inside. Not yet anyway,” you reasoned while you tried to wipe away the tears from your face, spotting the shoe in his hand.

“May I?” asked Todoroki as if he had ignored your request.

You turned to him with tear-stained eyes, only seeing him hold your shoe. It dawned on you that it was only the both of you outside the auditorium with no one else around.

“What about your date?” you asked, confused.

“They’re right here in front of me,” he stated calmly, straight-forward without flinching. “Please.”

He lifted your shoe once more, warranting a nod from you, permitting him to kneel and slip the shoe back onto your feet. He was gentle while he maneuvered it with ease, lifting himself close to you before he opened his hand, gesturing to take yours. With a calm breath, you accepted his hand before he led you into his arms, swaying to and fro despite the music that played inside Gym Gamma beside you. Underneath the stars, you began to waltz, glancing up into Todoroki’s eyes that only smiled down at you, that same smile that he expressed while you were with him.

“Thank you Todoroki,” you whispered. “I’m sorry-“

“No, I’m sorry,” he interrupted, still keeping to the rhythm of his feet. “I didn’t think about how strongly you felt about the career and the life you wanted. I was selfish.”

“You can be selfish. You’d be doing yourself a disservice if you weren’t. Now I feel like an idiot.”

The thought of your former date moments ago sprung in your mind, despite it being a last ditch effort by a classmate, even if it was innocent at first. However, you felt Todoroki clutch onto your waist tighter, hugging you into his chest while his fingers intertwined with yours.

“This is where you should be,” he motioned, his head laying on yours. “You deserve a good night.”

For the first time since arriving at this prom, you smiled, nestling into his chest and hearing the calm heartbeat that thrummed in your ear. His warmth, that familiar heat you had come to love, pervaded on your skin and kept you safe, here in his arms.

The sound of your phone broke you out from the moment, catching both Todoroki and yourself a little unguarded before you broke away a little to check it immediately. Todoroki still held you, not wanting to release you from his grip before he watched your eyes scan the screen, soon lighting up with excitement.

“Oh my god!” you exclaimed. “I got in, I got in!” You hopped on the spot, still in his arms, bubbled with elation.

“Where?” he asked immediately, only to be met by a moment of spontaneity. A sudden kiss on his lips, pulled in by your hands while you deeply pressed onto him. The moment broke as you pulled away, realising what you had done within the moment and met by Todoroki’s perplexed stare.

“Oh god, I’m sorry-“

Your words were choked by Todoroki returning the favour, pulling you into him and kissing you instead. His arms held you close to him, feeling the waves of heat from his body and his kiss alone. A fire unlike any other filled you inside, not searing through with anger, but fueled by passion which was Todoroki. As he pulled away, you stared into his eyes, pools of silver and blue while you watched him smile, caressing your cheek tenderly. You smiled back warmly with words unspoken.

“I love every part of you, my Love,” he whispered close to your ear.

“I… I love you more,” you whispered back, growing more sure with your words.

“Exactly where did you get accepted?”

“Your father’s agency,” you quipped, suddenly taking him back by surprise. “What? You thought I never considered it a top priority?”

“Why didn’t you say that earlier?”

“Because I hadn’t heard anything,” you reasoned while you fixed his suit. “It made me wonder how many applications your father’s manager had to go through today.”

A small chuckle escaped from Todoroki, soon turning into laughter along with you while he held you in his arms under the night sky. He felt like twirling you in the air, feeling you next to him and knowing you were beside him. With the prom already under way, he offered his arm with that ever-present smile, warm and inviting.

Seasons come and go - summer and winter, hot to cold. But despite the change in weather, you’ve learnt to adapt slowly over time and nurture something new through the faults. It only continues to grow from here, stronger than before.

[star-spangledstud]

MIND GAMES - ONE

Summary: You arrive at your new home. Steve is a blank canvas.  

Pairing: Steve Rogers x (Female!)reader

Warnings: none (so far)

Note: Had to reupload cause instead of editing I accidentally deleted it.

Raindrops, heavy and loud against the window beside your head, clash against and glide down the glass in messy, squiggly lines. The title of the song playing on the radio, ‘Soft like Rain’, fits the scene almost perfectly. Almost, because the rain that pitter-patters against the fogged-up window isn’t very soft in nature. In fact, the droplets come down so hard they bang against the roof of the car, its sound almost entirely overtaking the mellow tones of jazzy piano and drums in the background. The lines obscure your vision of Times Square, lights from the streets blown out and blurred to look like colorful stars and wicked shapes in the darkness.

I hope I made the right decision.

Your breath further fogs up the glass when you sigh audibly. A pair of dark eyes can be found eyeing you carefully through the rearview mirror when you sink further down into your seat. They offer you a hint of concern, of uncertainty. Nick Fury doesn’t know whether you’ll be okay or not. He can’t tell just yet, but the glimmer of hope he feels inside tugging at his heartstrings motivates him to give you a shot.

“We’re almost there,” his voice is quiet and deep when he speaks for the first time since picking you up from the airport, “just a few more miles.”

Of course I made the right decision. I always do. When have I ever fucked up?

You nod in response without checking to see if he’s looking at you through the mirror again because he undoubtedly is. After all, it’s all he’s been doing for the last hour. If you were to study the look in his eyes or his inner monologue just a little longer, you’d find out he’s scared. Nick Fury is afraid, both of you and for you, and he doesn’t like it because Nick Fury doesn’t get scared. He’s seen so much, experienced so many horrors in his time that he genuinely didn’t think anything could frighten him any more. Past tense, because the you’ve clearly made him change his mind.

This could be the best thing I ever did, or the worst. Can’t wait to find out which one it is. Cap better not fuck this one up.

There are so many questions you want to ask, but the voice in his head is loud in such a confined space, and nothing appropriate comes to mind. All you can pay attention to is the rumbling of the engine and the occasional ambulance rushing by somewhere in the distance. In the meantime, the song on the radio changes and morphs into something that sounds more melancholic.

When the two of you finally pull up to the compound, the rain has mostly stopped. It’s only drizzling now, tiny drops tickle your face while you brush strands of dampened hair from your forehead. A chill runs along your spine when a gust of wind blows through your open jacket, and you immediately zip it up for extra warmth.

You quickly scan the building, breath hitching in your throat when you notice its sheer size. It’s huge, much larger than where you used to reside, and the bright blue Avengers logo on the front causes your heart to beat a little faster. Seeing that logo makes it real, you think. You’re not so sure if this is the right place to be, but you don’t believe you have a better option. Either way, you told yourself you wouldn’t fuck this one up, and you have no intention to break this promise. This is home now, or at least it will be for a little while, and as intimidating as it is, you’ll have to make it work.

You can adapt, you’ve done it before. Hell, you’ve done it more times than you can remember. It’s extremely easy to make the people around you feel at ease in your presence when you can literally read every single thought they’ve ever had.

“I’ve assigned you to our best agent. He’s going to accompany you wherever you go to keep you safe. You cannot, under any circumstance, leave the building without him. You will listen to him and do what he tells you to do because it’s in your best interest. If you need anything, ask him, and he will provide. Do not tell anyone private information. If you need to vent, tell him,” Fury pauses, waits for you to nod, “no phones, no computers and especially no social media allowed under any circumstances. We need to figure out how much they know first. Don’t worry, we got Tony and Banner on that one.”

Did I get it all? I’m getting too old for this shit.

He watches you intently while you have to stop yourself from chuckling, “Got it?”

You nod.

“I need a verbal confirmation,” he grumbles, sounding annoyed by his own protocol.

“Yes,” you mumble against the whistling wind, “I understand.”

“Good. Let’s get moving, then.”

The opulent, open design of the ground floor greets you warmly when you walk in. Your boots, black and caked with mud, make streaks of brown along the white linoleum with each step you take and creak beneath your feet when you force yourself to move slowly forward. Fury watches your gaze flickering across the entrance and motions for you to follow him to the elevators, which you do silently.

A look of disapproval follows when he notices the trail of mud you’re leaving behind, but he doesn’t say anything. It won’t do him any good to verbalize his annoyance, because you’ve already picked up on it. Still, you drag your feet in an attempt to make him think you aren’t listening.

“Gym is in the basement,” he comments after watching you eye all the buttons inside the elevator, “roof is a terrace and pad for the Quinjets. There’s a penthouse underneath you’ll see soon enough.”

You raise a brow, and to your surprise, he chuckles, “Christmas party.”

“All the other floors include a lab, living quarters, conference rooms with workspaces, IT, a weaponry and gear storage. There’s a training room attached to the building that offers simulations. The building has a common kitchen and living room, a game room, a movie theatre and some other crap. Steve will show you when he has time.”

Your voice is dry and hoarse when you speak, “Steve?”

The elevator comes to a halt on the fifth floor, and before Fury has time to reply, the doors open to reveal a tall, blonde man in the opening. His arms, broad and encased in royal blue wool, are crossed over his chest. He has a stern expression on his face and a deep crease in his brow until he sees you and Fury, standing so far apart both of you are nearly hugging the mirrors on the walls. Fury has some of the loudest thoughts you’ve ever heard, and being stuck in a tiny box doesn’t do the volume any favors.

A glimmer of amusement is evident in his light blue eyes when you get out of the elevator. You look awkwardly at Fury, who’s making no move to follow you into the hallway, leaving you standing with one foot in the hall and one still in the elevator.

“Steve,” Fury says with a nod of his head towards the stranger, “is the agent you’re assigned to. He’s the captain of the team. I’d love to stay and chat, but you know how it is. Things to do, people to see… Keep me posted, Cap. I’ll be back soon for updates.”

He nudges you softly until you fully exit the elevator, and wastes no time pressing the button that will lead him back down to the ground floor. The heaviness of Nick Fury’s presence and the loudness of his inner monologue disappears with him when he leaves. It’s not until the doors close behind you that you feel like you can finally breathe again.

You turn to the man in front of you when you notice how quiet it’s become, and you subconsciously tilt your head to the side when instead of a constant stream of low mumbling and whispering, you hear nothing at all.

Steve raises a brow when he notices the way you’re looking at him. The soft expression on his face falters just a moment, but he recovers quickly, deciding not to allow his concern to show for now.  

“Hey,” he says “I’m Steve Rogers, captain of the team.”

It takes you a while to reply because you’re so focused on listening for his inner voice that you don’t even notice his rosy lips moving.

You swallow down a stream of curses in a variety of languages and force yourself to stand up straight when you realize he’s waiting for you to say something. What the fuck is going on, you think to yourself while you plaster a smile on your face.

“Yeah, I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Y/N,” you reply politely, “nice to meet you.”

“I hope Fury didn’t intimidate you too much,” Steve says with a chuckle, “the first conversation I had with him scared the hell out of me. To be fair, I did think I was still in the 40s.”

You bite your lip and shake your head, grip on the straps of your backpack tightening until your knuckles turn white. You’re glad he doesn’t extend his hand for you to shake. You assume he contemplated it.  Don’t know for sure though, because it’s still quiet up there in his skull. Does this guy even think at all?

“Come on, let me show you to your room.”

Your footsteps echo against the walls when the two of you silently cross the hallway. In total, you count a number of six doors. You tip your chin up when you reach the end and take a moment to study the man’s appearance while he points to the door on the right. He’s even taller and broader than you imagined him to be when Fury pictured him in his mind for you to see. If the upward curl of his lips wasn’t so genuine and soft, you would have been terrified of how big he is.

“This is mine,” he says, “I’m right across the hall if you need anything. This is yours. Usually, the doors open with fingerprint recognition, but you have a key. Nobody else has a copy except for me, for safety reasons. I’m obligated to tell you that you aren’t allowed to make any more copies.”

“Wasn’t going to,” you reply quickly.

He pulls a short, silver key from his back pocket and places it gently in your open, shaky palm. He notices your fingers are shaky when you fumble with the lock and smiles again in an attempt to make you feel more at ease. It’s almost like he can read your mind instead of the other way around. That stupid smile pisses you off.

“You have your own private bathroom,” Steve explains while he follows you inside, “Fury told us you don’t own much, so I asked Natasha to get you some clothes. We can go out and buy you some more if you want, just let me know. Feel free to decorate the place however you want.”

“Natasha?” you ask while looking around.

“The best spy we have. You’ll get along just fine, I’m sure. Anyway, I’ll leave you to get settled for now. Don’t hesitate to knock on my door at any time, okay? I’m not supposed to leave for another mission for a few weeks until you get situated. We can explore the compound tomorrow if you’re up for it. Maybe you can meet some of the other team members while we’re at it. No pressure.”

“Thanks,” you swallow thickly, “Steve.”

“You’re safe here,” he presses, “don’t forget that.”

For a brief moment, you wonder how much he really knows. You knowFury’s told him and Tony a watered-down version of what you’ve told him, but the kindness in his voice allows you to believe he hasn’t heard much. Still, you try to enter his brain and find out yourself, but once again you come up with nothing.

You exhale loudly after Steve leaves and take a moment to look around the room you’re now supposed to call yours. It doesn’t feel like it belongs to you, not yet anyway, and you wonder how long it will take before you find yourself succumbing to a new routine.

You take a shower to warm your bones and wash your hair with the shampoo and conditioner that smell like papaya. The towel you use to dry off is too fluffy for your liking, and a look in the mirror reveals dark circles and sunken in cheeks. It’s fine, you think. You haven’t recognized yourself in years.

Your backpack finds its way onto the bed, which is big enough for at least three people to sleep in. You follow shortly after, arms spread wide across the silky, forest green sheets until you sink down so far they almost wholly envelop you. Your hair is sprawled messily across the pillows. They smell like lavender and fresh cotton, and the scent is so relaxing and calming that within just several minutes of staring up at the ceiling, you drift off into a dreamless sleep.

When you wake up in a cold sweat several hours later, your hands are curled tightly in small fists around the silk sheets that cling to your legs. It’s hot in your room even though the chills along your arms would suggest otherwise, and your eyes frantically scan the shadows that seem to momentarily engulf you. It takes a while for your eyes to adjust to the darkness, and while you lie there in the dark, for several minutes, the only thing you can see is the vague outline of the face of a man.

As images from the dream you’ve just woken up from begin to fade, your heartrate slows down enough for you to remember where you are. You push the covers away from you and get up out of bed. You consider making a trip to the kitchen to get yourself something to eat, but you have no clue where the kitchen is located. Irritation pricks at your skin when your stomach rumbles loudly in the deafening silence, and five seconds later you’re stomping through the hallway with one goal in mind; to find something to eat.

The memory of Fury pointing out which floors of the building contain which rooms replays in your mind while you speedwalk through the hallway. You try to make a mental map of the compound for future reference just as you round the first corner, and in your state of tiredness and annoyance fueled by hunger, you don’t have time to realize Steve Rogers is on the other side of that corner.

Before he slams into you chest-first, his arms stretch out in front of him out of reflex. He grabs onto your shoulders and holds you steady while the both of you inhale sharply. Your head shoots up to meet his gaze, and he quickly releases his grip. What are the odds?

“Jesus Christ,” you gasp, “I didn’t see you.”

You didn’t hear him. That’s what you really want to say, but it wouldn’t make sense.

“I can tell,” he replies, “What are you doing awake?”

He’s tired, you can tell by the raspiness of his voice and the droopiness of his eyes, but he’s trying to hide his exhaustion by showing concern.

“I’m not trying to bail,” you cross your arms, “if that’s what you think.”

“I didn’t say that,” he replies, “didn’t think it, either.”

I wouldn’t know, you think. 

You take a step back to study his face for a moment, unaware that you haven’t answered his question. When the silence between the two of you becomes nearly unbearably heavy, you finally speak up.

Your cheeks heat up, and you swallow thickly, “I was hungry.”

“Damn it,” he mutters under his breath, “of course. I’m so sorry, I should’ve given you something to eat. The kitchen’s all the way at the end of the hall, on the right. Fridge should be stocked. I think there might be some leftovers, if Sam hasn’t eaten them already. I gotta go, see you in the morning.”

As you watch him walk away in the opposite direction, you can’t help but wonder what the rush is all about. Perhaps he’s really eager to get back in bed, you muse, although you doubt that’s the real reason why he’s speedwalking away from his room in the middle of the night.

NEXT CHAPTER.

[astro-rain]

delicate; b.barnes

chapter four - mri’s & other modern commodities

delicate masterlist

word count: 1.8k

synopsis: bucky faces his first day of treatment, and discovers some new things along the way: some scary, some awesome, some maybe slightly embarassing.

pairings: bucky barnes x fem!reader

[A/N]: not my gif

When he woke up, he scanned his room, making sure everything was the same as how he left it the night before. Making sure no one came in while he was asleep and poisoned his brain. Making sure he was waking up in his living quarters in Wakanda and not a damp cell in some secret Hydra base. It was just something he did now.

Some may call it paranoia, others may call it adaptation. Either way, once he stepped outside and made sure he was alone, he allowed himself to take a breath.

Today was the day, the first day of official treatment. He had no idea what to expect; he was just hoping to high heavens that it would end up working. Freedom. That's all he wanted. Liberation from the chains Hydra had had around him since he fell from the train all those years ago.

He was apprehensive for sure, but he tried his best to keep himself optimistic. Bucky was sure that Shuri was smarter than any Hydra scientist he once came in contact with. So, if they can tear apart his mind, perhaps she can put it back together. Right?

Her in addition to (Y/N). That psychologist woman. He had spoken to her the day before at the lake. She was funny, and she seemed decently easy to talk to. That's a good sign, he guessed. She told him that she hadn't minded relocating to assist in his treatment, but he honestly couldn't make out her true feelings. She was rather hard to read. Perhaps it was a psychologist thing; he tried not to look too far into it.

He waited outside his door until two Wakandans came to escort him to Shuri. Bucky noticed they were armed. Guards. He wasn't surprised nor did he blame them. However, that didn't make it any easier to trust. He hadn't had that luxuy in a very long time. The former assassin fought against the voice in the back of his head telling him to analyze their every move in order to ensure that he wasn't in any danger. That any minute they weren't going to strap him down and rip his brain apart the way it had been so many times before. So many times. He gave the slightest wince at the thought. His brain suddenly felt prickly, painful memories creeping up on him.

Not now, don't think about it.

Sometimes, if he fixated on the thoughts for too long, he would drive himself to this panicked state of fear and constriction. He wasn't sure exactly what this thing was. All he knew was that these things - these episodes - were extremely unpleasant, and utterly unnecessary at the moment.

He shook his head (somehow hoping that this would rid him of the prickly memories like a dog shaking off water), strands of long brown hair swaying quickly in front of his eyes, and fixed his gaze to the floor.

Floor. Floor. Floor. Floor. Just the floor. The floor. The floor. The floor-

"Sergeant Barnes!" Shuri welcomed him happily.

Oh. He was in the lab now. He let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. Let's do this.

"Good morning," he smiled, "and just Bucky's okay."

"Of course, of course. This is my lab! Best place in Wakanda in my humble opinion. Today's only the first day of treatment, so nothing too intensive. But, we will be working all the same!"

He glanced around the lab. The guards were at the doorway and they didn't look like they were leaving anytime soon. Again, he wasn't surprised. Moreover, sitting at a table a few feet from Shuri, was a familiar face. This familiar face soon met his gaze.

"Hi, Bucky" (Y/N) greeted, offering a polite smile. "See! I remembered this time."

Bucky grinned. "Are you still (Y/N), or is it Dr. (Y/L/N) since we're in the lab now?"

"I'm always (Y/N)."

"I don't know, if I went to school for as long as you did, I'd make everyone call me Doctor," Shuri added.

(Y/N) laughed. "Well, if you want to call me Doctor you're more than welcome, Shuri."

"That's the spirit, Doc," she declared before turning to Bucky. "Now, follow me and we'll get a quick MRI done."

"A what?" He quickly caught up to Shuri who already started walking away.

"An MRI. It stands for magnetic resonance imaging. Basically, scanners use strong magnetic fields, magnetic field gradients, and radio waves to generate images of the organs in the body."*

Yes, very basic.

(Y/N) leaned over to Bucky, explaining softly, "It's used to form pictures of the anatomy and the physiological processes of the body."**

"Oh."

"You just lay down and it scans you. Y'don't even feel anything."

"Thats... not too bad, I guess."

"It's a bit of a tight fit though, so I hope you're aren't claustrophobic."

Bucky rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, after cryo, I doubt tight spaces will be too much of a bother for me."

"Right," said (Y/N), "but it's still decently in your personal space. Just so you know - so there's no surprises."

He nodded. They didn't say anything until Shuri stopped short in front of them. She stood a couple feet from a shiny metal table which was lined up in front of an equally shiny and metallic semi-cricle arch. It was long enough to fit - well, would you look at that - a body.

"Oh. I guess there is a surprise," (Y/N) blurted, turning to Shuri, confused. "That isn't like any MRI machine I've ever seen."

"That's because you're in Wakanda," Shuri flashed a proud smile. "Tech's a bit... advanced here."

(Y/N) turned to Bucky. He thought he saw something resembling self consciousness flow across her features, but he wasn't sure.

"Sorry, I guess I was wrong. But, honestly this is way better than a typical MRI set up. It's much more open... and wide. Regularly, it would be like a super narrow tube with hardly any space inside. This way, you'll even be able to see us and the rest of the room."

That's good. More space. More freedom. And he'll be able to see her- them, see them.

Shuri clapped. "Alright! Shall we get started then?"

He had no idea how any of this worked; he was way out of his element here. He just barely learned what a damn MRI was, and had to hide his shock when he found out. Medicine has changed dramatically since 1945. Although it is helpful, he is completely clueless. Great.

"Do I jus-just lay on the table?" He asked, unsure.

"Yep! Just lie there and be absolutely still, and I'll do the rest," Shuri replied, reassuringly as she walked around to a control panel next to the machine, preparing to start.

Bucky took his place on the thin metal table, and he thought he was seeing things. Was it was levitating? Honestly, from what he's seen so far he wouldn't even be surprised. He stared up at the ceiling, getting lost in thought. A string of various questions and uncertainties fluttered through his battered mind.

Would the metal arm interfere with the magnet- oh. Right. No arm. Just a scan, no need to worry. (Y/N) said it would be fine. Can I even trust her Then again, can I even trust anyone yet? She's the best I got right now. Damn it, I wish I wasn't so wary of everyone.

"Hey," a gentle voice pulled him out.

He looked over to the left of him, the side with no arm. (Y/N).

"I can practically hear your brain whirring around right now - which is justified - but do you need anything?"

'Do you need anything?' He hadn't heard that phrase in a while.

He adjusted his body on the table. "I'm alright, just... a bit out of my element here."

She nodded, knowingly. "Honestly, me too. This lab looks like somethin' out of a sci-fi movie for me, so I can't imagine what it must feel like to you."

She was looking down at him. He felt vulnerable, exposed. It seemed like she noticed.

"Here, I have an idea."

With that, she turned and grabbed something from a nearby table. Rotating around to face him again, she displayed what she had taken: a pair of headphones... but without a wire? What the hell?

"Are they broken?" he asked, feeling perpetually confused.

"No, they're wirelessly connected to my phone. It's called bluetooth."

The look on his face was almost laughable.

"Bluetooth? What kind of name is Bluetooth?"

"The kind of name that I didn't invent nor should I be blamed for," she chuckled. "Do you want to listen to music while you're in there? It might help to keep you down on Earth with us."

Music. The thought was almost surreal. He hadn't been privileged with such a pleasure in longer than he'd care to admit. It actually seemed... nice.

"Y-yeah," he said, pondering. "That'd actually be nice."

"Awesome."

She leaned over him to put the headphones on his ears, causing him a very conflicting series of emotions.

First of all, close. She was very close to his face. His face, his eyes, his nose, his lips. It almost seemed a tad bit intimate. And then he realized he hadn't been this close to a woman in forever. A real woman, not some fellow assassin he had to take out. He hoped the shy embarrassment he felt didn't show on his cheeks.

Second of all, she was wrapping something around his head, his brain. He tried not to, but he couldn't stop the muscle memory of what he'd been conditioned to feel. Hydra's machine would wrap around his head and rip his psyche apart. His mind expected pain, the worst pain, the dehumanizing, out of body, mind splitting pain. He hoped the way he flinched ever so slightly didn't offend (Y/N).

She didn't seem offended, and her voice was soft. "You're good. Just music and a scan. Then you're done."

He looked up at her face, reassuring and calm. He took a deep breath.

"Good?" she asked.

He nodded. "Think so."

"If it's too much at any point just let us know, and we'll pull you right out. It's your comfort level, your choice."

His choice. Choice. Control. The prospect gave him comfort.

She gave him one last look before stepping away and signaling Shuri to start the machine. The seemingly levitating table began a smooth descent into the machine when the music started playing. It almost startled him, but he then he was pleasantly surprised by what he heard.

There were loud drums, guitar riffs with attitude, and voices that had so much emotion they were almost screaming. It was like no music he had ever heard before, and he loved it. In fact, he was so into it that he didn't even notice when the MRI had finished. That is, until he felt a feather light hand on his shoulder. His eyes opened, and (Y/N) had the biggest grin on her face. While taking the headphones off of him, she looked very pleased with herself.

She looked at Shuri but declared to no one in particular, "Bucky likes Rock and Roll!"

- - -

* = from wikipedia

** = from wikipedia

[fullmetalscullyy]

the way it was - chapter 36

summary: what if riza never went to war? riza hawkeye has just married the man she loves. six months into their marriage, an unexpected surprise stops her from following roy to the military. a canon divergence au that explores what might have happened had riza been unable to join the military. there will be plenty of family fluff, angst, and royai.

rated: m | warnings: no archive warning apply

read on ao3

1915

rise up and take the power back

it's time the fat cats had a heart attack

you know that their time is coming to an end

we have to unify and watch our flag ascend

Anxiety rumbled inside Riza’s stomach uncomfortably. It would not leave her alone at all, becoming more relentless and vicious as the day progressed.

It had started when the news dropped that morning the Fuhrer’s train had been derailed and attacked travelling back from the east. A few hours had passed since then, but her condition didn’t improve. There were reports on various radio stations, claiming Colonel Mustang was an enemy and was staging a coup to overthrow Fuhrer Bradley.

Gunshots were heard towards the centre of the city. The streets were silent, everyone locked up inside and too afraid to venture out. There were panicked warnings across stations too, telling everyone to remain indoors until the military had wrapped up whatever was happening in Central.

‘Wrapped up’ either meant Roy’s success or his doom.

Riza tried not to dwell on it too much despite hanging onto every word that came through on the news stations. It was a cruel form of torture, listening to it all and being unable to determine what was true or false. Was the military on Bradley’s side controlling the reports? Were they trying to paint Roy a criminal? Riza didn’t know. She knew his plan but plans change and are adapted in practice. 

Hayate was as restless as she was. However he could sense her distress and recognised she needed some comfort.

Riza had been wringing her hands in her lap on the couch, eyes unseeing as she focussed her attention on the news programmes. He’d hopped up beside her, giving her a fright and making her jump. Hayate buried his muzzle into the gap between her forearm and leg, forcing himself gently into the space with a whine. Normally Riza would gently command him to get down off the furniture but today… It brought a smile to her face and she scooted him closer to her body, petting his fur as he sighed underneath her hands.

The ringing of the phone startled their quiet contemplation as they waited for any further news.

“Hello, Riza,” Gracia greeted on the other side of the line.

Her shoulders relaxed, feeling tension evade from them. Despite it not being who she’d prefer to hear from at that moment, Riza was still pleased to hear from her friend. It was a welcome break from her own mind.

“Hello, Gracia.”

“Hi, Aunt Riza!” an excited child’s voice called over her mother, making Riza smile. 

“Elicia says hello too,” Gracia giggled.

“Hello, Elicia,” Riza replied fondly.

Riza’s stomach tightened, a deep yearning flooding her as she wished her children were at home with her too.

Mia was having a brilliant time in Xing. They’d visited two imperial palaces so far and Mia was brimming with excitement and knowledge on them, telling her parents all about it when she’d called on the phone. It just made Riza miss her more, wishing she was there with her and Maes to experience it with them.

“How are you doing?” Gracia’s question interrupted her thoughts.

“I’m fine,” she answered. It wasn’t a complete lie. Physically, she was. Mentally… Well, there wasn’t enough time for her to explain all of that and she didn’t want to unload it all onto her friend.

“Good,” Gracia replied. “I know things are… uncertain in Central Command at the moment,” Gracia added tactfully before clearing her throat, “so I just wanted to call for a chat and see how you were doing.”

A smile overtook Riza’s features at the thoughtful gesture. Gracia had probably heard the same news as her but was still willing to look out for Riza as a friend. At least Riza knew she could count on her regardless of what happened.

“That’s very kind of you. Thank you,” Riza replied gratefully.

“It’s no problem, Riza,” was Gracia’s warm reply.

The two of them chatted a while. Riza and Elicia got to talk for a little bit too. She asked Elicia about her day and what toys she was playing with. A tactical question because she’d need to get organised and buy Elicia’s birthday present sometime soon.

Just as they were wrapping up there was a knock at Riza’s door.

Gracia understood and offered a quick farewell, allowing Riza to answer her guest. Apprehension made her cautious as she approached, eyeing the shadow through the glass carefully before she opened the door. Riza wasn’t expecting anyone, so was alert and wary. Given the circumstances and her husband’s plans for the day, it was hard for her not to be.

“Riza.”

She blinked at Roy standing before her, completely baffled.

His smile was wide, all his teeth on show. His eyes, instead of meeting her gaze with the softness she loved, looked harsh, almost leering at her. It took her aback. The difference in his usual demeanour was startling.

“Roy.”

It was all she could manage to reply with. He… He shouldn’t even be here. He should be elsewhere –

“I’m here to take you to Central Command. I thought about it and I’d prefer it if you were there with me instead of at home.”

Something isn’t right, Riza thought immediately.

Roy’s smile wavered, falling just enough for him to look impatient despite giving her barely any time to reply.

This… This person wasn’t Roy. Riza didn’t know how or why that was possible, but it wasn’t him. Her gut was screaming at her not to trust him.

Roy’s impatience grew. His eyes tightened, but only slightly, a sign that whoever this was, they were annoyed by her lack of response and compliance.

One of the homunculi has skin made of carbon, Roy’s voice echoed in her head. Another, the one that stabbed Havoc and I, could make long knives out of their fingers. One can change shape while another will eat almost everything – and I mean, almost everything.

Someone… One of the homunculi had stolen Roy’s face and was using it in front of her, mocking Riza with his image.

“All right,” she agreed finally. “Sorry, I just didn’t expect to see you home so soon.”

Roy shrugged carelessly. “Plans changed and Central Command is where I want you to be.”

She tried not to frown. She really did. Whenever a plan was made, even his plans for today, her thoughts and wants were always considered. Riza was never ‘forced’ into anything based on what Roy desired.

He’d listened intently to her fears for the day, holding her close. He’d asked where she’d prefer to be - if she wanted to travel last minute to Xing with his mother or if she wanted to stay at home. Riza knew what Roy wanted her to do. He wanted her to leave so that she would be safe and out of harm’s way. But he didn’t voice it. It was her decision and he didn’t want to sway her. She couldn’t leave him though. They’d always agreed to look out for one another and Riza couldn’t turn her back on him when he needed it the most. Despite not being actively involved in his plans, she still wanted to be present. Whether the aftermath of today would be good or bad, she still wanted to stay to see it through.

Roy hadn’t promised that everything would be all right, because realistically he couldn’t, but he did promise he’d fight tooth and nail to come back to her. That he always would. It meant more to Riza to hear that than for him to spout off false promises in an effort to make her feel better in the short-term. It reminded Riza of how he would always gravitate back to her, and vice versa.

Two soldiers approached up the path to their home, tearing Riza’s attention away from her ‘husband’. Their faces were stony and unforgiving as they stared at her, waiting for her to start moving.

“Who are these people?”

“Two men from my team,” Roy dismissed, gesturing lazily over his shoulder. “They’re extra protection for you. Are you ready to leave?”

So, now she wasn’t even getting a chance to disagree.

Riza had never seen these men before either. If Roy really was sending someone on a protection detail, it would be someone she was familiar with, or at least someone she knew the name of.

These people were not here to protect her.

“I will be,” she nodded slowly. “I just need to lock up.”

She shouldn’t go with them. Every instinct screamed at her not to, however another part of her whispered in her mind that she clearly had no choice. The silent officers had their hands on their weapon holsters. It was a reminder. A threat.

“Lock up?” The imposter echoed her words back to her in irritated confusion.

She nodded. “I won’t be a moment,” she reassured. “I would bring you in, but I’ve been painting so there’s fresh paint everywhere. I wouldn’t want it to get all over your uniforms,” she smiled placidly, perfectly innocent as she closed the door on them without waiting for a reply.

One thing Riza was hoping for as she turned in a hurry, was that they’d respect the boundary she’d set by closing that door.

If they were here for her “protection” and she was to be used against Roy in some way, they wouldn’t hurt her. Well, not yet anyway. That would have no impact on Roy right now. If they wanted to use her to get to him, whoever this was would wait until Roy could see her. The thought made her ill, but she had no choice. She could fight it, she could run, but she couldn’t outrun bullets if they started firing. Plus, the homunculi had powers. There was no way for her to know what the one who’d stolen her husband’s face was capable of.

Riza dived for the phone, but hesitated. There was no one to call. Roy wasn’t in the office, neither was his team. Rebecca was out of office today. Gracia was just a civilian…

There was one person…

A piece of paper lay next to the phone with a name and phone number written on it. Roy had left it there the night before, explaining it was a direct line to one of his supporters in the East. They were high up in the military, he’d said, and would help if she needed anything today.

Riza shook her head as she stared at the name. She had no reason to believe her grandfather would help her. He’d known of her existence for years and had made no move to make contact. Still, it was an option… A way to possibly get through to Roy. A last ditch effort…

Riza felt she at least had to try.

“General Grumman,” an aged voice greeted through the phone.

“General,” Riza greeted, swallowing the extra saliva forming in her mouth. “General Grumman, my name is Riza Mustang. Née Hawkeye.”

There was silence on the other side of the line.

“I’m very sorry to disturb you today, sir, however I was left this number by my husband, Colonel Mustang, should I need any assistance.” There was still no reply from her grandfather. Taking a deep breath, she forged ahead, hoping he would offer her something. “I would like to ask one thing of you, if you wouldn’t mind? It’s for my husband’s sake and I wouldn’t bother you if it wasn’t important. I know you are close with him, sir.”

“What do you need?” His tone had changed completely, losing its professionalism, and reverting to a respectful but forlorn one.

Riza didn’t spend too long analysing the nuances of his reply. She couldn’t. There were far more important things for her to dwell on, especially when her grandfather had paid her no mind in the years she and Roy had been married. If Roy was a well-known “family man” around the office, then General Grumman was sure to have heard about her when he was Roy’s direct superior. Her grandfather must have made the connection and yet had done nothing. Other factors may have come into play there, but Riza had no time to consider them. Getting a message to Roy was her top priority, not her grandfather.

“I need you to get a message to Colonel Mustang.”

“What is it?” The General’s tone was brisk. He snapped his fingers, demanding someone get him a pen and some paper.

“Tell him I’m on my way into town,” she swallowed, looking back at her front door. “The escort has just arrived.”

“Understood.” There was movement on the other side of the line. She heard him bark an order but it was hard to make it out. “Is there anything else I can do for you, Mrs. Mustang? Anything you need?”

“That’s all. I would really appreciate you passing that message on, sir,” she added, stressing that fact and hoping he’d pick up on it. 

There was an urgent knock at her front door. Riza’s head snapped towards it, feeling the imposter’s anger and annoyance as they banged on the door.

“Have a nice day, General,” she swallowed. Riza hung up the phone without waiting for him to reply.

While shrugging on her jacket she whistled for Hayate to come. He appeared in an instant by her side, looking up at her expectantly. She bent low, clipping his lead onto his collar. Taking the deepest breath, Riza stood and braced herself to dive head first into the lion’s den.

The imposter frowned once the door opened, affronted at having been kept waiting for so long, while the two soldiers stared at her, as stiff as statues. Paying them no heed, Riza pocketed her house key and looked at her ‘husband’ expectantly.

Hayate tugged on his lead, turning to growl loudly at Roy. He barked twice, taking up a defensive stance in front of her.

Her dog’s behaviour solidified it for Riza. That was not her husband.

“What’s wrong… boy?” Roy missed a beat, guessing the correct word to use when referring to Hayate, who just continued to bark.

Riza didn’t try to quieten him either.

“I’m not sure,” she replied innocently, glancing up at her ‘husband’. “He normally loves you, Roy.”

The imposter frowned down at the Shiba. He took one step forward and Hayate warned him to back right back up again with a snarl. Roy flinched, moving backwards. Riza almost smiled proudly at her dog.

“What’s gotten into the mutt today,” Roy muttered darkly underneath his breath.

Gripping the lead tightly and trying not to snap a reply, Riza gently hushed Hayate.

“Why does he have to come?” Roy’s voice was full of disgust.

“I can’t leave him alone all day,” Riza replied simply with a shrug. “That wouldn’t be very responsible pet ownership. You know that.”

Roy turned his nose up Hayate, then proceeded to skirt around him as Hayate continued to growl. Riza probably should’ve quietened him again but it was far too entertaining to watch. Hayate had always been very protective of her and her family so if his instincts were telling him not to trust Roy, then Riza would believe it too.

“Keep him on a tight lead,” Roy sniffed, storming over to the car without a backwards glance.

Riza glanced down at Hayate, noting how his stance was still protective, but his growling eased with the more distance Roy put between him and her.

“Yes, Sir,” Riza muttered to herself.

Beginning to walk, she signalled for Hayate to follow. There was a moment of pause and Riza wondered if he’d go anywhere near the imposter again but Hayate trotted along obediently. He moved closer to Riza and hurried to walk one step ahead of her, putting himself between her and the imposter.

She loved their little Shiba with all of her heart every day. However, after that show and how protective he was being, her adoration for their dog swelled in her chest that little bit more.

*          *          *

The car stopped at a blockade. Soldiers were holding up traffic, waving for other soldiers to pass by and ignoring the yelling of irate drivers. ‘Roy’ was in the passenger seat, muttering under his breath while the soldier driving remained still, staring straight ahead with no emotion as he waited for the disruption to clear.

Riza’s head turned at the sound of yells, confused but drawn to it, wondering what on earth the sudden commotion was for.

Then a gun went off. One single shot cracked through the angry shouting, silencing everyone.

That’s when the panicked cries started.

People ran past the car window as Riza ducked in the back seat on instinct. Another gunshot sounded, followed by loud cracks and sudden flashes of light. It reminded Riza of alchemy but she didn’t get a chance to dwell on that thought for too long. Hayate whined loudly in her ear. His legs were shaking and shifting restlessly on her lap as he pressed his muzzle against her neck in fear.

The sound of gunfire rattled within Riza’s chest, making her feel ill. It was such a shock that she was frozen for the briefest of seconds, stuck as she tried to comprehend what was happening.

Risking lifting her head, Riza spotted the look of fury on Roy’s face. One hand was braced on the dashboard, teeth clenched hard together as he cursed violently. The tips of his fingers changed in colour, taking on a hint of green as the imposter began to lose whatever control they had over Roy’s form.

“Envy!”

A voice called through the sudden appearance of smoke and dust outside, but from her ducked position, Riza could see no one. She couldn’t be sure, but they sounded young. Risking a further search, there was still nobody to be found. She couldn’t see anything through the sudden gloom.

“Come out!” the newcomer commanded harshly.

The imposter snarled and glared ahead of them.

“You,” they hissed, twisting her husband’s features into a look of disgust. Then, their hand turned green and transformed shape completely.

Riza listened to her screaming instincts and made her move.

The soldier to Riza’s left hadn’t expected her to shove open the door and dive out of the stationary vehicle. People were still yelling and running away from the sound of whatever battle was raging in the streets. Riza ducked into the crowd hurriedly with Hayate in her arms, sprinting through it and bashing into others who damned her for being so clumsy. She didn’t care. There was an out and Riza took it. The startling sound of Roy yelling at her with such ire almost froze her in fear, but Riza forged ahead.

That was not Roy.

Once through the throng of people, she slipped into an alleyway and stopped, panting heavily. Hands on knees, Riza’s lungs heaved as she struggled to get the breath she needed. Her limbs were shaking from adrenaline, fear, and anger.

How dare that… homunculus imitate Roy. They hadn’t even tried to appear sincere and like him. Riza had never been so insulted by that poor performance. They’d mocked her with his image -

Hayate quietly barked a warning. He took a step back, facing the thinning crowd of people she’d just ran through.

“Time to go, boy,” Riza breathed, still struggling to gulp down enough oxygen. She willed herself to calm down and focus on the here and now, and not what had transpired with the homunculus. She was free from them at the moment but if they caught her it would not end well for Riza.

Her months of limited exercise due to the pregnancy and having a demanding infant in the house was taking its toll. Her breaths slowly became easier, but her heart rate remained sky high. Adrenaline and anger were fuelling the furious pumping of her heart, making Riza’s first step unsteady.

Hayate remained tight to her side, scouting ahead with his nose. He never stopped or resisted the direction she was heading, so Riza took that as a good sign.

After escaping from the homunculus and the escort, Riza had no idea where to go. She knew of Roy and his team’s plan, knew where they were rendezvousing at, but it would be difficult to pinpoint where exactly they were at certain times –

Tires screeching on concrete made Riza jerk back from the road in fright. Momentary terror gripped her heart, squeezing it tightly. Was this someone else to ‘convince’ her to go with them? Had the homunculus found her?

This was not a car though. Riza paused and eyed the ice cream truck that had halted in front of her. Her muscles coiled with energy, getting ready to turn and run if need be.

“Riza?!”

The sound of Rebecca Catalina’s voice was not what Riza expected to hear that day, however it was the most welcome thing in the world after her flight from the car.

“Rebecca?”

“Get in!”

The door in the cab of the truck was thrown open. Riza didn’t hesitate.

“What are you doing out on the streets?” Rebecca’s tone was one of disbelief and worry as she pulled away, speeding down the street.

“What are you doing in Central? Shouldn’t you be on a mission out east?”

“This is my mission.” Her head jerked to the truck behind her.

Looking around, Riza blinked in surprise at the number of weapons that were loaded into the unsuspecting ice cream truck.

“Uh…”

There was a person in the back, too. A woman.

“Hi,” she grinned, offering Riza a wave. Dark hair was cut short to her head, while a distinctive mole was placed upon her cheek, just underneath her eye.

“Riza, Maria Ross,” Rebecca introduced hurriedly as she weaved through traffic. “Maria, Riza Mustang.”

“Oh!” Riza exclaimed, recognition dawning on her. “Maria Ross,” she repeated, seeing the woman nod in confirmation. “I’m glad you’re safe. How was Xerxes?”

“Hot,” she remarked dryly, “but a necessary journey. Xing was much more preferable though in temperature,” she quipped with a wink.

“You didn’t answer my question, Riza,” Rebecca admonished. “What were you doing out in the streets?”

Hayate swayed on her lap, looking out the window excitedly as the city sped by. With hands buried in his fur, she rubbed his sides as she told the story of her morning.

“Wait, a homunculus?” Rebecca’s mouth popped open in shock. “At your door?”

“I think so, because it wasn’t Roy.” Riza was adamant about that. “Hayate growled and barked at them enough though, didn’t you boy?”

Reacting to her proud tone, Hayate sat a little taller and panted happily.

“He’s a good boy,” Rebecca cooed. “You’re so lucky,” she added, pouting.

“How come?” Her laugh was light.

“You get a good man, cute kids, and the best dog in the world!”

“Yes, but I don’t get to run around the city, driving at top speed in an ice cream truck full of weapons,” Riza countered playfully.

“Do you want to?” Rebecca chuckled to herself. “I can only imagine the look on Mustang’s face when you show up as the driver.”

It would be entertaining but Riza’s stomach still tightened uncomfortably at the thought of having to explain what had happened that morning to him. She’d never hide it, but given his reaction to her meeting with Pride, it wouldn’t be ideal to do it when he was supposed to be level-headed and calm while leading a rebellion.

“I can picture it well,” Riza smirked, despite her discomfort.

They pulled up to the kerb suddenly.

“Quick, get into the back,” Rebecca ordered.

Given the urgency of her tone, Riza wasted no time and held Hayate tight to her chest as she manoeuvred her way into the back of the truck, picking her way through boxes of weapons.

“Colonel Mustang!”

Riza’s heart was in her throat as she waited to see him appear. Relief flooded each and every one of her limbs, thankful he was okay, and she could witness that confirmation with her own two eyes. Roy gawked up at Maria Ross, so did Breda, when she moved forward to reveal herself. 

“I picked up a hitchhiker along the way as well,” Rebecca quipped.

Breda glanced behind Maria, eyes growing wide when Rebecca waved over her shoulder to further back in the truck. Roy just stared in confusion at Rebecca.

“Riza?” Breda’s half smirk was both of joy and surprise as he called over to her.

Roy’s head snapped around after Breda spoke. His eyes scanned the truck frantically to look for her. Once settling on her form, he took one look at her face, instantly alert. His spine straightened as Riza let out a long breath.

“What are you doing here?” Breda’s question was mirrored on all of their faces, joy quickly turning to alerted concern.

“Let’s hop out for a minute,” Rebecca suggested. “I could use a stretch of my legs.”

Everyone did so, moving further away as Riza stepped down onto the concrete. She felt Hayate stiffen in her arms but she placed him down on the ground so she could talk to Roy.

He’d stepped back, giving them all space to step out of the vehicle, but didn’t approach Riza. He remained put, studying her, trying to find a reason in his own mind why she would be in the truck with Rebecca and not at home.

“Can I talk to you?”

He nodded, stepping forward with an outstretched hand. Taking a deep breath, Riza approached with Hayate’s lead in her hand. She was halted, though, when her dog dug his paws into the ground, tugging her back from him. No growl left his throat, but Hayate wasn’t budging and was staring Roy down.

“Hayate?”

Riza held her breath, thinking of her last run in with ‘Roy’.

“Is it really you?” Her question, despite being quiet, carried across the distance between them.

“What?” His confusion was genuine. Shifting his stance to face her fully, Roy’s arm dropped to his side, hanging limp.

Out the corner of her eye, Riza saw Breda jerk his head at the other three soldiers, walking further out of earshot to give them some more privacy. It was much appreciated.

“Is it really you,” she repeated, gripping Hayate’s lead tighter.

The dog took a tentative step forward but still didn’t growl. His nostrils were moving, sniffing, and testing the air.

“I…” He didn’t know how to respond, which Riza thought was promising. Looking completely perplexed, Roy trailed off, unsure how to answer but wanting to be careful in his reply.

“What did you say to me?” She was desperate, the emotion clawing up her throat and forming a lump. She desperately wanted it to be him, but she wouldn’t put herself at risk. She had to check. “Before you left last night, what did you promise?”

“That I would always return to you and the kids,” was his instant reply. Roy didn’t even miss a beat. It made Riza’s heart soar and her muscles loosened with the reassurance. “You told me you’d hold me to that and to go off and save the world.” A tiny smile tugged at his lips, softening his expression.

It was him.

Riza moved forward into his open and waiting arms. Hayate didn’t put up any resistance either. A kiss was pressed to the top of her head as she squeezed him tightly.

“Thank you for answering my questions,” she whispered against his uniform.

Hayate sniffed at Roy’s legs and let out a quiet yip. His tail wagged happily before sitting down on the ground, satisfied that this was the real Roy.

“Can I ask what that was all about?” He was trying to remain casual, but she heard the strain in his voice.

Riza nodded and pulled away. “Hayate and I already had a run in with you today.”

His head cocked to the side, not understanding. His lips parted to speak but no noise left him. Instead, Roy’s mouth closed, still unable to comprehend her reply.

“It wasn’t you.”

“Well, I know that, but –” His face paled, mouth parted as realisation dawned on him. “Wait.”

“It was someone pretending to be you. They had your face and your voice.”

“Oh, shit.”

Riza almost snorted in amusement at his mumbled response.

“I’m… I didn’t… I didn’t anticipate something like that happening.”

“It’s not your fault.”

An appreciative smile was shot her way. “Are you okay, though?” Roy dipped his head, looking into both her eyes to try and discern if he could see anything in them to give away her true state of being.

“I’m fine,” she placated with a gentle hand on his forearm. “We’re fine. Hayate told me right away that it wasn’t you.”

Roy looked down at their pup. Seeing eyes on him, Hayate’s tongue lolled from his mouth and his tail thumped on the ground. Roy’s hands released Riza from his hold so he could lower to a crouch. Hayate stood, excitement on his face at the anticipation of getting attention from Roy.

“He’s a good dog,” Roy murmured, rubbing at Hayate’s head. “The best dog in the world, actually.”

“I’ve often thought that myself,” Riza replied dryly.

“Thank you for protecting our family, Hayate.” His tone was sincere as he gave Hayate another scratch behind the ear. The pup was pleased, his eyes closing appreciatively. “We all owe you a lot.”

Hayate barked at them both, eyes sparkling with elation.

“I’m glad you’re all right,” Roy repeated, moving to stand. “Who was it? Do you know?”

“I don’t,” Riza replied honestly. “It was definitely a homunculus though. You said there was one who could change shape. It was you, Roy, but they didn’t act like you.”

“Envy, then,” he muttered to himself.

Riza’s mind jolted, remembering how someone had called that name before she fled the car.

 “Was there anyone else?”

“Two vacant looking soldiers. They didn’t speak,” Riza replied.

“What did Envy want?”

“Me to go with them to Central Command.”

Turning thoughtful, Roy considered her answer. “I didn’t anticipate a plan such as this.” His gaze turned away but Riza caught sight of his regret. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think they’d stoop so low and do something like try and kidnap you.”

Her stomach twisted at the phrase, but Roy was right.

“I thought you’d be safe at home,” he sighed. His eyes closed briefly. “But if that’s how they want to do things then I’m glad you’re here.” His expression softened, his tiny smile returning to tease the corner of his lips.

“I am too,” she admitted. Riza reached forward and gripped his hand tightly. 

Once again, she found a place in his arms, safe and secure.

“So, what’s the plan, Colonel?” Riza pulled away from his embrace after kissing his cheek.

One of his eyebrows raised. “You already know the plan.”

“I did,” Riza agreed, “but now I’m involved. How can I help?”

“Well. I didn’t really want to get you involved but if you’re here we could use an extra set of hands.” Twisting, he extracted a pistol from a holster around his waist. “I wasn’t planning on using it but brought it just in case.”

“You’re giving me a gun?” Riza blinked at it.

“You were the deadliest shot I knew as a kid with that rifle of yours,” Roy quipped playfully. “I know it’s been a while though, so if you don’t want to –”

Riza gently plucked the gun from Roy’s open palm. It was examined carefully, and she weighed it in her grip. It nestled comfortably in her palm.

“Anything to help.” Her reply was firm and determined. “And it’s not been too long. Rebecca and I went shooting once before I found out I was pregnant with Maes.”

“Is it just like riding a bike, then?”

Riza smirked at his jest. “We’ll soon find out.”

She lifted the gun to eye level, squinting to aim, feeling everything come rushing back to her from her childhood. She was back in that forest, the breeze gentle and tugging at her fringe. The birds overhead were chirping, oblivious to the young girl below hunting for survival.

“I think you’ll be just fine,” Roy smirked, watching her proudly.

“Sir!” Fuery called from a distance away, interrupting their conversation.

They both turned, seeing him holding a phone receiver away from his ear.

“I’ve got a call here for you from General Grumman, sir.”

Riza’s heart rose into her throat in anticipation.

“He’s been trying to get through to us for a while. Apparently it’s very urgent. It’s regarding your family?” Fuery questioned that last part, looking over at Riza.

Roy shot her an alarmed look.

“I called him and asked to get a message to you,” she explained, “when Envy showed up.”

“Oh.”

“Take it,” she urged and nudged his arm gently. “I’ll be here when you get back.”

He shot her a smile before jogging over to Fuery to take the call.

So, her grandfather had come through for her after all. Riza let out a relieved breath, thankful he’d listened and done as she’d requested. Although she hadn’t anticipated ending up with Roy anyway and so soon, it was still a relief to know the General was willing to help her.

She’d make sure to thank him if they ever crossed paths in the future.

[stylesluxx]

cold? chilling? freezing? (VI) – s.rogers

[warnings: fury getting shot but that’s it I think]

summary: in which y/n is an assassin turned lover | part five | part seven

word count: 1,758

masterlist

You didn't go straight back to the apartment after you visited the Smithsonian. You remembered it was your night to cook so you spent the afternoon in the grocery store.

You never had to cook until you lived with the super-soldier. You loved takeout but he complained about it after a week. Something about wanting a real home-cooked meal. He cooked for the first month before you ended up getting food poisoning because honestly, he's horrible at cooking. Then you tried to take over and come to find out you too were a horrible chef.

So, every Saturday night you and Steve went to cooking classes and tried to get a hang of it. You started to buy pots and pans and baking sheets. You wouldn't say you were Gordan Ramsey or anything but you were 10 times better of a cook than you were two years ago.

When you got back to the apartment, Steve had just opened the door to the building and smiled when he spotted you. He reached and held the door so it wouldn't close on you before shutting it softly behind you. You looked at the stairs in front of you and sighed before beginning the journey up.

"How was the rest of your afternoon, Captain?" You asked as he took the bags from your hands.

"It was... enlightening. I met with Sam, the guy from the park. He has a support group for veterans," Steve nodded thoughtfully.

"Maybe you should attend that as well. The missions might start to become a bit much after a while. And it'll help you adapt better," You suggested and looked up at him as we walked beside you.

"And what about you?"

"I, uh, Director Fury has already set me up with the therapist. Agent Romanoff recommended it and I respect her advice. We're more similar than I originally thought," You hesitantly spoke, not wanting to divulge too much. "Did you see Miss Carter today?"

"Yeah, I did."

"And how was that?"

"It was good. She thinks I put too much pressure on myself."

"I agree with her, one hundred percent."

"I feel like you've been attacking me ever since you walked in the building," He teased with a light smile on his face, making you laugh.

"Well, get your shit together Rogers," You smiled at him and walked up the last step.

You spotted the blonde woman opening her door and you turned back to give Steve a wink.

"Good evening," You greeted her with a smile and wave.

She was on the phone and had a laundry basket in her hand as she tried to open to door to her apartment. She gave you and Steve smiles before finishing up her phone call and turning to you and Steve.

"My aunt, she's kind of an insomniac," She waved her phone before tossing it in the basket.

It was silent for a moment before you decided to speak up and help Steve out.

"Hey, if you want, you're welcome to use our machine. Might be cheaper than the one in the basement and you won't have to walk up and down all those stairs," You suggested. "And while it dries you and my friend here can maybe go out for coffee."

Steve looked back at you wide-eyed and full of shock before turning back to the blonde with a chivalrous smile.

"Thank you, but I already have a load in downstairs, and uh you really don't want my scrubs in your machine. I just finished a rotation in the infectious disease ward, so..." She softly declined, making you scratch the back of your head awkwardly.

"Well, I'll keep my distance," Steve played off the rejection with a light chuckle.

"Hopefully, not too far," She said slyly before turning to walk downstairs. She quickly turned back around as you got the keys out of your backpack. "Oh, and I think you left your stereo on."

"Oh, thank you," Steve said and turned to look at you once she walked away. At that instant, you both heard the 40s music playing for the record player.

"First of all, it seems like she's kinda into you," You started as you stuck the key in the lock. "And secondly, I didn't leave the stereo on. Didn't even touch it."

"You stay here with the groceries. I'll come open the door when the coast is clear," Steve said and set the bags down beside you and quietly retreated down the steps.

Two years ago you would've walked in with the keys in between your knuckles. You don't know why you listened to Steve, he wasn't necessarily Captain right now and you weren't on a mission. But you listened to him. Your gut told you to listen and to trust him.

You waited for all about five minutes before the front door opened and Steve had his shield in his hand. You surveyed him for any injuries before letting the keys fall from your knuckles. You walked in and set the groceries down on the kitchen counter.

You followed him to the living room and leaned against the wall, your arms crossed over your chest.

"I don't remember giving you a key," You said to Fury as he sat comfortably in your favorite chair.

You liked to sit there during the day while reading a book. You get to see Steve as soon as he walks in and he sees you instantly as well. It was a nice way to start the afternoon.

"You really think I'd need one?" He asked, sitting up. "My wife kicked me out."

"Didn't know you were married," Steve spoke up.

"There's a lot of things you don't know about me."

"I know, Nick. That's the problem."

Steve walked over and turned the overhead light on and we both got a good look at the man in front of us. He was bloodied and bruised, an unusual sight.

Fury put up a hand to still us and reached up and turned the lamp that was next to him off.

He typed in his phone before showing us. It read "EARS EVERYWHERE." I looked over at Steve before walking a few steps closer to him.

"I'm sorry I had to do this but I have no place else to crash."

Steve looked around the room, trying to spot anything out of place or abnormal.

Fury typed on his phone again before showing us a new message, "SHIELD COMPROMISED."

"Who else knows about your wife?" You asked and watched Fury stand up, holding his side.

"Just us three," He said and showed us the phone with the exactly same words. "My friends."

"Is that what we are?" Steve asked hostilely.

"That's up to you," Fury said before screaming in pain and buckling to his knees.

Steve dragged his body from the living room to the kitchen and you pulled out your gun from its place in your holster.

You heard Fury cough out "don't trust anyone" as soon as the front door was kicked down and revealed the blonde "nurse" with a gun in her hand.

"Captain Rogers? Agent Y/L/N? I'm Agent 13 of S.H.I.E.L.D. Special Service," She said calmly. "I was assigned to protect you."

You looked back at Steve and gave him a look before turning back to her.

"On whose order?" Steve asked.

"His," She said and got on her knees to check Fury's pulse.

Steve looked at her dumbfounded but you couldn't believe you were right about her.

She spoke into her walkie talkie and you turned to look in the direction the previous bullets came from.

"Tell him I'm in pursuit," Steve said. He walked backward to get a head start before running and jumping through two windows to chase the shooter.

Sharon gave you an address to where Fury would be taken. Some hospital in the middle of the city which made you look at her weird. Fury was way too private to be taken care of at a public facility but you went along with it.

You ran downstairs and to Steve's bike where you knew he'd meet you. You put the gun back and grabbed his helmet (though it was really yours because he never used it). You put it on and secured it as you saw him running to you.He got on the bike and you followed his lead, wrapping your arms around his waist. He wasted no time speeding off when you told him the address.

—

"Tell me about the shooter," You asked of Steve so you could distract yourself from your boss laying on the operation table.

"He's fast. Strong. Had a metal arm."

Maria Hill walked next to you and looked at Fury.

"Ballistics?" You questioned.

"Three slugs, no rifling. Completely untraceable," She answered.

"Soviet-made."

"Yeah," She said shocked and looked over at you before turning back to the operation table.

You watched emotionless as the doctors and nurses tried to revive Fury but to no avail. Emotionless only because you weren't in the room by yourself. You didn't know Fury too well, no one did, but he (and Romanoff) helped you believe that therapy was a valid option and it was okay to go.

Steve was the first to walk out and then Agent Hill. You stood there for a moment to ensure you were completely alone before letting a small tear fall. You let it hit your Iron Man shirt before you wiped the wetness off your cheek and walked out of the room.

You spotted Steve not too far away and looked over at him. You walked over slowly and watched his eyes take you in, looking for any sign of distress. He found the wet spot on your shirt and gave you a sad smile.

"It'll be alright, Y/N," He assured you while looking right in your eyes, relaxing you.

You nodded, "I know, Captain."

"Cap, Y/L/N, they want you back at S.H.I.E.L.D.," You heard Agent Rumlow's voice disturb the moment.

"Yeah give us a second," Steve nodded.

"They want you now."

"Okay," Steve nodded again, this time with more force.

Rumlow walked off and you followed behind him while Steve stayed back. It seemed like he was having trouble with the vending machine but you ignored it and listened to the radios the S.T.R.I.K.E. team had. They wanted to question you and Steve.

The ride to headquarters was quiet. You rested your head on Steve's shoulder and his arm was wrapped around yours, holding onto you tight.

[AN: so this series is gonna be longer than I originally planned but not too much longer. and I’m super sorry this too so long to post, it was my birthday week so I was super busy. I think I’m putting this on hiatus; I don’t feel motivated to write it anymore]

[tags: @thisartemisnevermisses​ @thatoneperson5000​ @capstopavenger​]

[streets-in-paradise]

Roadside Bet

American Gods and Percy Jackson crossover - Part 1

Word Count: 1767

Characters: Wednesday, Shadow, Eira ( Vanir demigoddess OC) 

Relationships: Platonic. 

Summary: Setted in season 1 of American Gods. Mr Wednesday takes his crew on a trip to New York hoping to recruit a powerful ally. Shadow starts asking questions about him and his curiosity unleashes a silly argument. 

Warnings: Some ageists jokes, the camp half blood concept from Percy Jackson is interpreted in American Gods’s style. 

Disclaimers: This serves as an introduction for my self indulgent attempt of writing fanfic including Sean Bean as Zeus in the American Gods universe. I couldn’t find fiction for Sean Bean’s Zeus and he’s so fine that I can't deal with it so I decided to include him in an idea I had previously in process for an American Gods fanfic. I apologise for any possible mistakes,english is not my native language and this is a translation. 

Tags: @yerevasunclair​. Our conversations about Sean’s Zeus inspired this. I’m tagging you in both parts. Thank you so much for the inspiration. 

I hope you ‘ll enjoy this. Thanks for reading

With the exception of Wednesday's bad mood, the trip was not having any major setbacks. The old man was quite unbearable because he hated New York and its exorbitant modernity, but he knew that this was a trip he was obliged to take. If he closed the deal he set out to make, he would gain a powerful ally, perhaps the most powerful one available. 

With only a few miles to go, he switched places with Shadow because he wanted to drive to relieve stress. Meanwhile, to alleviate the boredom during the break, he started to chat with Eira. The girl was sprawled out in the back seat listening to music on an old MP3 player dating from 2002. Shadow signaled her to take off a headset and pay attention to him. Listening to them, Mr. Wednesday rebuked her

“I told her to get rid of every modern toy before following us but she never listens. Eira!! Turn that rubbish off before I destroy it myself.”

“ Chill out, old man. This is ancient history technologically speaking. It doesn’t have wifi connection, or bluetooth, or anything. Nobody can try to track us through this, even the boy must have forgotten these things existed. It’s as safe as your car’s radio.” she replied in a tone that showed annoyance. 

 Shadow laughed, always amused to see the boss and his new co-worker arguing as a family. Wanting to pry into what she was hearing, he reached out to grab the earpiece she had taken out of her ear and placed it over his.

“ What’s that language?  Greek, I think? “ he commented about the music 

“Yeah, it 's greek. I’m getting ready for our next stop.” she explained. 

 “ Greeks? After what I experienced with the russians some time ago i thought we were going to New York to have a meeting with the japanese mafia or something like that. All your business partners seem to have a thing with extremely violent threats. “ he complained

“Don’t be so harsh with Bogo. Most people think he is scary and disgusting but i think he is great. He may be a bit of a psycho weirdo, he makes meat uncomfortable for everyone and sometimes he throws his cigarette smoke in your face but he is a very fun dude “ 

“ Bogo? Did you nicknamed him? He is a serial murderer who wants my head. “

“ We both live in Chicago, my mom tends to know everyone there and everyone knows her. I know him since i was a child, he is like a grumpy grandpa to me.”

That statement left him a bit shocked. Mainly because he did not imagine Czernobog being friendly to anyone or even being seen as friendly. 

“  Do you know the greeks? “ he asked, taking the opportunity to prepare for what was to come

“ No, I never had the pleasure, that’s why I'm so excited. They do their own stuff by themselves, they don’t tend to be very cooperative with the rest. Need is what pushed everyone else to start cooperating and created the unstable bonds of solidarity you had seen so far. They have their own functional system, they don’t need help from anyone. Even if they were struggling i doubt they would ask for it or accept it.” 

“ Very secretive people. How will we convince them to join Mr Wednesday? “ 

“  Let that to me, dear boy.” the boss interrupted . ”They never pick a side, not with us and not with the News. They are always pretending they are better than everyone else in that fake copy of their Olympus they made to themselves when all they actually have is a bunch of brats. If the big conflict starts they will have to choose one side and that’s where we enter.”

“I’m very curious about them "she added .” Their strategy is fascinating. They have a family business that keeps them standing for a very long time in conditions others would only dream to have. They adapted by being themselves without selling to the News.” 

” So, greek mafia then? ”  Shadow asked,curious and worried in equal amounts. 

 ” Never call them like that ever again. That’s very insulting and they are famous for being very arrogant and easy to irritate. Theo will carbonize you if he hears you calling him a mob boss. ” 

” Theo is their boss? He is the one we are visiting? ” 

 ” That’s how we call him, nobody dares to use his full name in casual conversation so we picked a middle ground epithet between his tradition and ours. Names are powerful, Shadow. You don’t have to use them in vain. ” Eira explained. ” Honestly, I'm very excited to meet someone so powerful. Most of the still strong names out there had given up and sold their brands to the News but Theo and his people are still successful. They are living the lifestyle of the Old Country, or at least the closest copy they can get in America. Wednesday is salty because he was never able to agrupate our kind in a similar project. My work for him is the closest thing he got, I’m one of the very few children of his associates who got invested and that’s only because my mother kept me with her. I’m not precisely the rule, that’s why practically i grew up to be here now. ” 

Shadow started to get severly worried .The repeated comment about the power of the people who were going to see kept him on his toes. He didn't want to get into any more trouble. 

 ” Do you want to give me a list of stuff to avoid when facing this Theo? I’m starting to freak out a bit and I don't understand a shit of what you are saying except for “ he is powerful”.  ” he asked her

 ” Don’t worry i will be there with you the whole time and i have more experience dealing with this sort of thing than you. Wednesday should have brought you to my mother’s home first instead of going straight to the russians when you visited our city. Don’t be scared, if you screw it up i will help you out”. 

Wednesday did not missed the chance to give his own advice as well

 ” The best for both of you is to keep your mouths shut as much as you can. “ he warned. ”Smile, nod in agreement, answer only what it’s being asked of you in the moment. This goes especially for you, young lady. ” he concluded in an imperative tone. 

”  Why the sudden care? You didn’t when we were visiting others. Are you afraid of him? ” she teased. 

”  Never, how could you suggest that? I’m restraining you because I don't want you to shift the focus of our negotiation. Theo has a weakness for youthful maidens like you.” he replied, scolding her again. 

 ” Then I should be the one negotiating with him.Wouldn’t be easier to convince him? ” 

” They don’t make him particularly weak, they are his favourite distraction. He enjoys himself when they get affected by his charm. Our business is the war and nothing more. Less you talk, less chances of distracting him too much.” 

Shadow was getting some entertainment with the discussion and intervened to give his opinion

” He doesn’t want this guy doing to you what he does to other women. ”he stated, mocking Wednesday. ” He wouldn’t admit it but he cares for you. He doesn’t want to see some horny old dude around you, thirsting over you and making you feel uncomfortable.” 

 ” My concern is not her safety, it’s her loyalty what troubles me. She works for me, she represents me. I don’t want her to forget it in front of him.” 

” Wednesday, he is older than you. ” Eira complained, trying to make him understand how ridiculous he sounded. ” Why would i care about him flirting with me? I’ll smile at him, pretend i’m pleased with his commentaries to keep him happy enough for you to close the deal and that’s all. It’s not the first time it happened, i’m used to casual flirting. Mad Sweeney had done it the few times we had seen each other,  some others associates of yours do it sometimes. The people we see tend to get flirty, Shadow has experienced it as well. It’s part of the job. ” 

” Mad Sweeney is a drunk loser, we are talking of real power here. Watch your steps and don’t embarrass me.”  Wednesday insisted. 

Shadow couldn’t stop laughing 

” Is he truly afraid you would be seduced by a man older than him? He has to be kidding, he is one of the oldest men i ever meet so how old is the greek ? 95?” 

 ” I may not be into the Technical Boy despite being closer in age terms to him than to most of the dudes we had dealt with but that doesn’t mean i’m into senior citizens. A middle ground is good, thanks. ” she joked, joining the mockery. 

” You two are too young to understand some very important aspects of how things work here. I’m warning you before it’s too late.”  Wednesday replicated.

 ” Whatever, thanks for the advice. I will have it in mind the next time an irresistable senior citizen shows up.You don’t know anything about my tastes in men and you are projecting your own crap on me. You may have a thing for girls of my age but not all of us get horny for grandpas. Some do and i don’t judge them but i’m not one of them.” 

 ” Wait and see. ” the old man replied in the same mocking tone. ” I would like to bet. I did it when Shadow fought the leprechaun, now it’s your turn. ” 

 ” We don’t have anything of value you may want.He just got out of jail and it’s not like mom would give me her Brisingamen just because i lost a bet to you. ”  

 ” Shadow, are you in? ”  the boss asked 

 ” What would i win? ” 

 ” If Eira feels condescendingly repulsed by the greek i double your weekly pay. If he charms her  i discount a percentage .” 

 ” If she doesn’t feel attracted to an old greek you duplicate my pay? Sure, i’m in. it is a safe bet, right?” he asked her 

” He talks bullshit, i’m not interested. Go ahead.” she assured him 

 ” I had never been happier standing in the middle of your silly fights. ” 

The youngsters spent the rest of the trip making fun of Wednesday's ridiculous bet, sure they were going to win. The old man laughed in their faces, he was playing with them again.  

Note: Theo is a name with two possible etymological origins, one greek and one germanic. A long time ago i read a theory that said the greek form Deos was associated with Zeus. I recently read that wasn’t the case but i still found it fitting for Zeus. 

[rigelmejo]

February Progress Update, March Goals:

(Updated as it’s now the end of the month) How February went:

Chinese novel chapters read in February (so far): 27 (a huge amount! Last month’s was 8. This month - 4 were Guardian, the rest are 寒舍)

Chapters I studied with Listening-Reading Method: 2 (Catch me barely doing L-R and just reading Guardian instead...)

Chinese shows watched: 6. (I expected this number to shoot up and I was right! Word of Honor - tian ya ke adaptation - is airing and I am watching the raws first then the English subs as they release. I’m also maybe going to start Anti Fraud League since I finally finished ep 1. YouTube recommended me another Zhen zhehan drama - he plays Zhou Zishu in woh. It’s called Demon Girl and I’d had it in my list to practice anyway with when I got bored since it’s set 1920-1940s, one of my fave drama settings, featuring a demon heroine in which demons are like mutants who live among us. Which happens to be my LITERAL favorite story setup - mutants/monsters/etc sci fi or supernatural setup in which the story uses it to tell fantastical tales while also commenting on real social issues. Some stories do it better than others - In The Flesh and Bureau of Transformer do excellently, Love and Redemption and Guardian do some fascinating stuff with it, Heroes touches on it only a little compared to Xmen which is known for it, and Merlin often failed to commit to a strong message. But regardless - if a story has this Setup I will ultimately wanna see. So that show definirely has 3 selling points now: my Fave story setup, a heroine as the lead, and an actor I like as the other lead. I also found Mystic Nine and LORD Critical World in HD on a chinese site so I’m very tempted to just watch them in chinese only since it’s more convienient then the english sub links I have for the shows. An interesting update: trying to watch a show this month was easier than in the past - last month I could barely watch Any shows, and before that I distinctly remember shows being harder to catch the details. I watched Anti Fraud League ep 1 fully this month and caught all details roughly without pausing - and like 3 sentences of exposition on main character Mi Huo I paused and replayed the scene just to catch all the chinese subtitles and clarify I understood correctly. I think I got about 90% of the details - because I was a little vague on some word meanings and just guessed on those. And grasped 100% of the overall plot. which is well beyond where I was at month 10-11ish last time I tried watching shows. Also yay! A detective show felt as easy as watching a fluff romance which is so great, because I like this genre much more! Although I am going to give a grateful shout out to Granting You A Dreamlike Life because... while the shows first 15 eps I did watch are Not My Thing, I watched it like 8+ months into learning and it was both a challenge and easy enough TO watch and keep watching. Which made it great for improving. I really think it helped a lot. And I also think... at this point I probably could rewatch guardian without eng subs and be fine. When I watch shan he ling today I guess I’ll find out if I can handle a wuxia plot though without eng subs lol)

Japanese Audio listened to: 14 (no change, this is since start of year)

Personal books read: 11 (since 2021 started - so 6 books in February. I have been reading SO MUCH lately, I’m really excited? I’ve been meaning to read so many of my books I just hadn’t gotten around to it. This is also likely to increase as I’m about to finish dmbj 2 next time I pick it up).

Some other things:

@a-whump-muffin​ u inspired me and sometime soon I will be trying to play KH in japanese again, and looking at ur super amazing grammar guide u made ToT (I might try nier automata if its bearable just because I’m playing all the drakengard/nier games right now but... the language is a lot more sci fi so i’m not sure that’d go well... also i want to check if my final fantasy type-0 has japanese language settings...). But like... I am definitely up for looking at a grammar guide, and looking up words on my phone as I play. Now that’s a study method i could DO maybe ToT and also like!!! ultimately i want to do it anyway!!! i just figured it would be drowning and chickened out! but like. to study doing what u wanted to do anyway in the language??!!! wowwww ;-; i mean that’s basically why i’m reading chinese but u get the idea

Other japanese updates: I’m still listening to quickleur I just haven’t done any listening lately (u can tell by the L-R status above lol). It did help a lot though even the bits I listened to, as far as refreshing my mind on particles and verb endings. And the explanation on sentence structures u gave @a-whump-muffin​ !! (who is god tier if ur studying japanese they are <3 <3 )

Part of the ‘personal books read’ goal - I’m counting any textbooks I read in that category, in the hopes if I frame it in my head as reading for personal interest instead of studying, I will do it. Ideally I would LIKE to read my DeFrancis Chinese books, Chinese Nature Method grammar book, Chinese Sentence Patterns book, 2 books I just ordered, my japanese reading books (the 1st one a good refresher the 2nd one literally could be... my textbook for years its got so much). Those chinese books in part because WOW I am so used to so much grammar in context when reading, but when I go to produce language I’m a hot MESS. And I think just like... I really should read those books and fill in the gaps in my understanding and like solidify the correct understanding of what I can comprehend. Sometime.... I ALSO should read my Alan Hoenig chinese characters book. But will I???? AHA. I forgot to mention in my last reading post - but brute forcing learning the hanzi has been going fine actually. I was concerned just looking up hanzi when reading, that I would struggle to learn the new ones. But I can confirm that reading has gotten easier, and I’ve picked up a LOT of hanzi I was previously brute force looking up repeatedly while reading. So like... as long as this keeps working, I’ll keep doing it. I’m very lazy and the path with least resistance and mental exhaustion is what I’ll keep doing, if it works, even if it might be slower. (Although I do think the hanzi books I have are very useful and have helped me speed up progress when I used them).

I learned how to make gifs this month and I’m overwhelmed with all the stuff I could try to do? Idk its very cool i’m very excited about it.

Goals for March:

Basically, we’re sticking to the quite steady study plan I’ve had the past few months, which has boiled down to: read chinese, L-R, listen/watch if desired, do something listening related in japanese if desired. It’s not well rounded or anything but I’m making steady progress and its easy to keep doing.

Anything in bold is what I’m doing right now/likely to do (although we know how often I just derail).

Read chinese novels. (This can include Guardian. Currently includes: hanshe, guardian. On hiatus: Tian Ya Ke).

Listen-Read Guardian. (Reading guardian in Any way is the priority so if this happens yay, but if it doesn’t I’ll be happy if I’m still working through guardian and just postponing the listening part).

Optional. Play video game in japanese, use a dictionary and grammar guide when confused af. This one’s imminently likely just because the instant I get Nier remastered I’m playing it, and also playing Nier Automata etc games, so like... the opportunity and desire to play the japanese versions of games I want to do that with WILL hit me. 

Optional. Watch chinese shows. This one’s also likely because a priest novel drama adaptation just dropped (Word of Honor, shan he ling, tian ya ke/Faraway Wanderer’s adaptation) and I don’t want to wait for the english subs. 

Optional - unlikely (I’m not in the mood to listen to stuff lol). Audios. Keep listening to Japanese Quicksleur when there’s down time (like playing games), and Chinese Spoonfed audio if I feel like it. 

Personal. Keep reading while I’ve got the motivation to. I am really enjoying getting through all these books I’ve wanted to read for so long. 

BELOW I will eventually link a list of story recs (also see tag rec list for more):

Poyun 破云 (recced)

Poyun 破云 2

一级律师 by 木苏里 (recced)

盗墓笔记 series

默读 by priest

他们的故事 by 一根黄瓜丝儿 

寒舍 by 夏灬安兰 pingxie supernatural au

818 (pingxie)

鎮魂 by priest (chapter 4)

天涯客 by priest

Qi Ye 七爷 by priest

六爻 by priest

FGEP

犹记斐然 foxghost rec

一受封疆 foxghost rec

女主大人 我错 gl

将军府小妾生存报告 gl

夜半衣寒 by 夏灬安兰 pingxie (can u tell i like this author)

(瓶邪同人)所谓一切发生在网配+番外 (writer and radio voicer pingxie au)

死亡万花筒 kaleidoscope of death

将军府小妾生存报告  

女主大人，我错了  

魔女霓裳

公主饶命 GL

民政局领到了媳妇

In progressing difficulty, books I want to read and should be ready to read now, a la foxghost’s recommendations:

那些風花雪月 by Gong Zi Huan Xi (took 14 months of study before I tried to read this, did try, did not click with me lol)

不正當關係 by Gong Zi Huan Xi (foxghost said this was the same difficulty as the story above, so I’m probably ready for this one too).

*SCI 谜案集 by ErYa (I’ve heard this somewhat easy to read, is a good story, and since its case-centered I think it would be a good intro to later reading books like Silent Reading by Priest)

龍圖案卷集  by ErYa (There is an audiobook on Ximalaya!)

黑風城戰記  by ErYa (sequel to novel above)

Then the recommendation says you should probably watch a lot of shows for some vocab (I sort of do so I’ll see how that helps me out), and you can start tackling xianxia, like Priest’s “六爻, and then 鎮魂, then 殺破狼, and pretty much any other of GZHX’s works.” I would guess this point is when Tian Ya Ke would be more my reading level, when 六爻 is, at the beginning. I would guess after 鎮魂 is when I could try to tackle Can Ci Pin. Sha Po Lang is steampunk and fantasy, so I would guess it has some of the sci fi type words - so if I’d be ready for that, I might be ready for Can Ci Pin at the same time.

[papermoonloveslucy]

THE GOLDEN TOUCH

January 17, 1951

“The Golden Touch" is a modern re-telling of the King Midas story with Jack Benny and his friends as King Midas and his court. It was directed by Robert F. Mansfield, written by Robert Hugh O’Sullivan and with Harry Zimmerman as the composer / conductor. 

“Family Theater” was a weekly half-hour dramatic anthology radio program which aired on the Mutual Broadcasting System (MBS) from February 13, 1947, to September 11, 1957. The show was produced by Family Theater Productions, a film and radio studio extension of the Family Rosary Crusade founded by Father Patrick Peyton as a way to promote family prayer. The motto of the the Holy Cross Family Ministries is, "The family that prays together, stays together." 

Although the program had no commercial sponsor, Father Peyton arranged for many of Hollywood's biggest stars to appear including James Stewart, Bob Hope, Lucille Ball, Raymond Burr, Jane Wyatt, Charlton Heston, Bing Crosby, Jack Benny, Gene Kelly, William Shatner, and Chuck Connors. 

A total of 540 episodes were produced. The program featured not only religious stories but half-hour adaptations of literary works such as A Tale of Two Cities, Moby-Dick and Don Quixote.

Synopsis ~ Lucille Ball is the hostess and Jack Benny stars as the King obsessed with his gold and counting it. The Queen and her daughter get a Genie to sort the King out. The Genie grants the King one wish and the King tells the Genie that he can always use more gold and asks that everything he touches will turn to gold. Of course this seems exciting at first until he turns the Queen and his daughter in to solid gold.

The program was repeated on May 23, 1951.  

King Midas is popularly remembered in Greek mythology for his ability to turn everything he touched into gold. This came to be called the golden touch, or the Midas touch. 

CAST

Jack Benny (King Midas) was born on Valentine’s Day 1894. He had a successful vaudeville career, and an even greater career on radio with “The Jack Benny Program” which also became a successful television show. His screen persona was known for being a penny-pincher and playing the violin. Benny was a Beverly Hills neighbor of Lucille Ball’s and the two were off-screen friends. Benny appeared on “The Lucy Show” as Harry Tuttle (a Jack Benny doppelganger) in “Lucy and the Plumber” (TLS S3;E2), later did a voice over cameo as himself in “Lucy With George Burns” (TLS S5;E1), and played himself in “Lucy Gets Jack Benny’s Account” (TLS S6;E6). He was seen in four episodes of “Here’s Lucy.” Benny and Ball appeared on many TV variety and award shows together. He died in 1974, a few weeks after taping “An All-Star Party for Lucille Ball.”

Lucille Ball (Hostess) was concurrently starring in her own radio comedy “My Favorite Husband” having starred in films from 1933.  In the fall of 1951, Ball and her husband Desi Arnaz launched their iconic television series, “I Love Lucy.”  After her divorce from Arnaz in 1960, Ball starred in two subsequent television series’ - “The Lucy Show” and “Here’s Lucy.” After a series of TV specials, she did one more series in 1986, which was not successful. She died in 1989. 

Ted de Corsia (Harvey Benson, Reporter from The Daily Telegram) was an actor in touring companies and on radio before making a memorable film debut as the killer in The Lady from Shanghai (1947). De Corsia's New York street demeanor and gravelly voice assured him steady work playing street thugs, gang leaders or organized-crime bosses. On radio he starred in the CBS series "Pursuit" (1949-50). Two years before he was heard on an episode of “My Favorite Husband” with Lucille Ball.

Barbara Eiler (Princess Imogene) started acting as a teenager and appeared regularly on the radio programs “The Life of Riley,” “A Day in the Life of Dennis Day,” “The Fabulous Dr. Tweedy” and “Glamor Manor." She did a 1948 episode of “My Favorite Husband” with Lucille Ball. 

Eleanor Audley (Queen Midas) played Lucille Ball’s mother-in-law on “My Favorite Husband.” She would later play Eleanor Spalding, owner of the Westport home the Ricardos buy in “Lucy Wants To Move to the Country” (ILL S6;E15) in 1957, as well as one of the Garden Club judges in “Lucy Raises Tulips” (ILL S6;E26).

Alan Reed (Matthew the Butler / Tony the Cook) is probably best remembered as the voice of Fred Flintstone. He started his acting career in 1937. He acted opposite Lucille Ball in a 1963 episode of “The Lucy Show” (ILL S1;E25). In 1967, he made an appearance on the Desi Arnaz series “The Mothers-in-Law”. He died in 1977 at the age of 69.

Reed uses an English accent as Matthew and an Italian accent as Tony.

Verna Felton (Molly, Kitchen Help) received two Emmy nominations for her role in the Desilu series “December Bride,” playing Hilda Crocker from 1955 to 1959. She did two episodes of “I Love Lucy,” including playing Lucy’s stern maid, Mrs. Porter. Felton voiced many characters for Disney.

Felton uses an Irish accent as Molly.

Howard McNear (Ipsuda, Magician) played Mr. Crawford, Little Ricky’s music teacher on “I Love Lucy.” McNear went on to play Floyd the Barber on “The Andy Griffith Show” from 1961 to 1967, filmed on the Desilu backlot. He was also seen in Lucy and Desi’s 1953 film The Long, Long Trailer.

Frank Nelson (Genie / Mr. Gene Blue) was born on May 6, 1911 (three months before Lucille Ball) in Colorado Springs, Colorado. He started working as a radio announcer at the age of 15. He later appeared on such popular radio shows as “The Great Gildersleeve,” “Burns and Allen,” and “Fibber McGee & Molly”. This is one of his 11 performances on “My Favorite Husband.”  On “I Love Lucy” he holds the distinction of being the only actor to play two recurring roles: Freddie Fillmore and Ralph Ramsey, as well as six one-off characters, including the frazzled train conductor in “The Great Train Robbery” (ILL S5;E5), a character he repeated on “The Lucy Show.”  Aside from Lucille Ball, Nelson is perhaps most associated with Jack Benny and was a fifteen-year regular on his radio and television programs.

Howard Culver (Jake Workman, Ice Man) was best known as hotel clerk Howie Uzzell during the entire run of TV's “Gunsmoke.” On radio he starred in the title role of the Western adventure series “Straight Arrow” which aired on Mutual from 1948 to 1951.   

Tony La Frano (Announcer) was the regular announcer for “Music Depreciation” (1945) and every episode of “Family Theatre” (1947-1957). 

EPISODE

Hostess Lucille Ball introduces the show, which was broadcast in front of a live audience. Lucille urges listeners to pray together as a family. She then introduces Jack Benny as the King, to great fanfare. 

Instead of Benny, the show opens with Imogene on the telephone of a busy office in the Kingdom of Midas. Harvey Benson, an American reporter, arrives to see the Queen, who thinks he is there for money, but he wants the story of something that happened there recently. She tells the story in flashback...

A month ago, King Midas is at breakfast with his family. Imogene complains about having cornmeal mush for breakfast again, but Midas reasons that they have a 752 pounds of corn (thanks to the foresight of his father), so they must eat it!  

Matthew, King Midas’ butler, suddenly quits after 32 years! He is tired of carrying the King’s gold. He is also tired of the mush. Because of an ancient decree, the help must eat whatever the King eats. 

Imogene and the Queen insist King Midas counts his money too much - 80 million dollars a day!  Once the King is gone, the Queen sends Imogene on a mission to see a magician named Ipusda to buy a genie. 

At Ipsuda’s shop, Imogene has her pick of genies - even ones vacuum packed in cans (only for tourists)!  She buys the blue bottle special for 5 gold pieces - plus a small deposit on the bottle!   Imogene brings the magic blue bottle back to the Queen, who says the magic words: “Genie out and at attention!  Do the chores which I will mention!”  The giggling Genie immediately appears, talking in rhyme, very amused at his own cleverness.  They promise the Genie his freedom if he does as bid.  The Queen whispers the orders to the Genie, without letting Imogene know.

Next morning, Imogene and the Queen introduce Midas to his new servant - the Genie!  At their bidding, he conjures up bacon and eggs. Midas hates the Genie’s rhyming. He asks Midas what one wish he wants more than anything else in the world.  Naturally, he wants more gold. 

The Genie grants him with the skill to turn everything he touches to gold!  The Genie pops back into the bottle. Imogene notices his utensils have turned to gold - then his eggs - then his coffee.  

Before he can stop himself, he turns his own daughter to gold! Midas demands the Queen bring the Genie back, but she refuses and storms off. 

Midas hears the kitchen servants Tony and Molly arguing in the next room. Tony goes to shake his hand, but he turns to gold! He touches Molly and she, too, turns to gold. 

The ice man arrives and sees the two golden servants. Signing for the ice, the King tries to give him the golden pencil as a tip! Midas explains his problem - everything he touches turns to gold. Jake is about to phone his brother-in-law, Ipsuda, but when he learns that it was the work of a genie, he hangs up. All they can do is wait for the Queen to return to get the Genie out of the bottle! 

Time passes and Jake reveals that the King is not as highly regarded in the Kingdom as he thinks.  The King admits to being money mad. Midas decides to start giving his money away - starting now!

The Queen arrives and she Midas admits that he never wants to see gold again as long as he lives. After accidentally turning Jake to gold during a hug, the Queen summons the Genie to change the King back - in return for his freedom and a good job. The Genie removes the curse. 

Flash forward to the Queen’s interview with newspaper reporter Harvey Benson. Mr. Gene Blue, the president of the relief organization, enters. He makes a joke about his name sounding like “Benson Burners.” He laughs hysterically as the music swells. 

Lucille Ball closes the show by asking if the audience knows how Hedda Hopper makes a hat, comparing it to how scientists make a concoction out of ordinary things to create something incredible: jewels out of sawdust, perfume out of coal tar, medicine out of weeds or mold. She says the power of prayer, just like the ordinary things that create something magical, are there all the time, but must be used to get benefits: the jewel of a happy home life, the perfume of uplifted hearts, medicine for a sick world.

LUCILLE BALL: “The family that prays together, stays together.” 

Announcer Tony Lo Frano reads the credits and says that next week’s program Walter Brennan and Bette Lynn in “A Star for Helen” with the honorable Frank Walker as host.  

[xialing-gf]

the benefits of working in a music store

summary: meeting mj, who also happened to go to your high school, at the music store was the best coincidence in your life, ever

(Week 3 of my 30 weeks of writing prompts challenge: music store)

wc: 1347

read on ao3!

MJ detested many things: gender roles, smelly shoes, war, and most of all, store employees who tried to make conversation. She absolutely hated employees who were overly friendly and tried too hard to get her to buy whatever they were selling with their charm.

One time, MJ was at retail store with her mother and she picked up a bottle of perfume because it was decorated elegantly and suddenly, a store employee popped out of nowhere with a giant grin on his face and began complimenting MJ’s hair before proceeding to tell her how she would smell wonderful with the lovely lavender perfume she was holding. MJ freaked out and almost chucked the bottle at him, but luckily, her mother stopped her before she could. 

She never imagined that she would work at a retail store but she realized that all the books she wanted all were in hard-cover and extremely expensive. While MJ’s mother always bought her books, MJ knew that her mother wouldn’t buy her all the books on her wish list and decided to find a job. Since she wasn’t legally an adult yet, most of the jobs available to her were related to retail. 

Fortunately, there was a music store that sold vinyl records and CD’s offered jobs to people over the age of 16 so MJ got a part-time job at the store. She was taught to be friendly to the customers and smile more, which she did, only when the customers were looking. MJ didn’t try to coerce customers into buying records as she knew from first-hand experience how annoying it was. 

MJ had been doing a pretty good job of being a mediocre store attendant until you walked into the store one day. When you walked in, MJ didn’t notice at first as she was reading a book about the history of advertising but she heard the sound of fingers against shrink wrap and she looked up to see you browsing vinyl records.

You were one of the prettiest people MJ had ever seen and she stared at you for a solid half-minute before returning to her senses and putting away her book. MJ watched as you flipped through the vinyl records, occasionally stopping on one here and there but not picking anything up. After a minute of browsing, you suddenly pulled out a vinyl record with a small smile on your face.

“Good choice. Not a lot of people buy vinyl records anymore, much less the first Panic! At the Disco album,” MJ remarked from her position behind the counter and you looked up from the record you were holding, noticing her for the first time. You weren’t the only one who was surprised as MJ was shocked she found the courage to speak up first.

“Yeah, it’s their best and most underrated album. I also just got a new record player so I need some new vinyls,” You replied as you continued to browse through the vinyls and MJ walked out from behind the counter to stand next to you. This was the second time she had left the counter voluntarily, the first time being to help a customer figure out how vinyls worked. She took out a record from the shelf next to where you stood and handed it to you.

“This band good is pretty good too. If you like Panic! At the Disco’s first album, you’ll like this album,” MJ smiled and she was internally screaming at herself. She had no idea what came over her that made her act so nicely but when you smiled back, her efforts were no longer considered wasted. 

“Thanks! I think I’ll just get two today,” You remarked as you followed MJ to the counter, where she prepared the cash register for your purchase. You planned the two vinyl records down on the counter and MJ picked them up, scanning them and tapping a couple buttons on the screen. 

“That will be fifty dollars and sixty two cents,” MJ read the total and you handed her the money. Another reason why vinyl records weren’t used anymore was because of how expensive record players and vinyls were. Most people used digital streaming services to listen to music or just stuck to the radio.

“Do I know you from somewhere? I feel like you look familiar,” You frowned as MJ counted your bills and calculated the change. MJ carefully counted the coins and bills as she handed you your change and handed you your receipt as well.

“Maybe. Do you go to Midtown High?” 

“Yes! Wait, I think you’re in my sixth period physics class. You’re MJ, right? Our teacher called you out for asking too many questions once,” You laughed as MJ blushed at your comment. Placing the change in your pocket, you still stared into MJ’s hazel brown eyes as you spoke.

“Oh, right! Yeah, I remember you too,” MJ rubbed the back of her neck embarrassingly, glancing down at the counter as she prayed that her face wasn’t tomato red. She always had trouble speaking with insanely attractive people and this was the worst moment for her habits to kick in.

“Well, nice talking to you. I have to go home now but hopefully, I’ll see you tomorrow at school!” You tucked the two vinyls under your arm and waved as you left the shop. MJ waved back and for the rest of her shift, she couldn’t stop thinking about your brilliant smile.

MJ was lucky that it rained the next day because as a result, everybody ate lunch in the cafeteria, filling up all the tables. Of course, she sat in a secluded section of the cafeteria so she didn’t have to deal with any fights over space. But she was surprised when you walked up to her and asked to sit with her during lunch since all the tables were full.

You broke into a relieved smile when MJ nodded and you sat down next MJ. She had been reading a book about the theory of relativity and to break the awkward silence, you asked what type of books she liked to read. The conversation then moved from books to film adaptations of books and before you knew it, lunch was over.

The next day, there was no rain and the cafeteria wasn’t crowded but you still sat with MJ. This time, you two talked about music and you learned about MJ’s taste in music. She liked a variety of music and liked at least one artist from each time period. 

One day, you decided that you wanted to listen to some new music so you asked MJ to make you a playlist of songs she liked. She spent all night crafting a perfect playlist of recommendations and when she watched you listen to it at lunch the following day, she was anxious to see if you liked it. 

You absolutely loved it and it became a weekly tradition for MJ to make you a playlist with new songs. With each playlist, MJ got a little braver and added more love songs. She decided to take a leap of faith when she was making a playlist and named it “hidden message”. MJ chose her favorite songs and arranged them in order so that the first letter of each song put in together spelled “will you go on a date with me?”

Instead of showing it to you at school like she usually did, MJ texted you the link to playlist and waited for your response. You usually always responded to her text messages quickly but this time, you didn’t respond at all. MJ thought this meant that you were scared away by her but the next day, at school, she was surprised that you greeted her with a hug.

As you wrapped your arms around MJ, you whispered in her ear, “Yes. Yes, I will.”

It was safe to say that MJ’s choice of bringing you to a concert for you first date was one of the best decisions she had ever made in her life.

~

check out my mj x reader masterlist or look at my marvel page for more marvel fics! comment to join my mj x reader taglist!

Mj Taglist: @retrobhaddie @just-your-local-history-nerd @chickenstrips45

[trashboatprince]

There aren’t a whole lot of Radio Omens fics on ao3, or at least it’s rather hard to find content, so I’ve decided to contribute a bit. (and I decided to post it here on tumblr too, but it is on ao3 under the same title)

Best I could come up with is them having to go through The Trial from the television adaptation, cause it always confused me that both Book and Radio Omens let them get off kinda scot-free but the show decided, oh no, that’s not happening.

So, yeah, enjoy the Radio boys having to survive their trials. I mean, you know how it ends, but still.

Summery: The quiet calm of hearing nothing from Heaven and Hell was a clear sign that they were going to contact them eventually, and Aziraphale and Crowley knew they only had one chance to make sure that they get out of it without facing the worst of the worst.

Maybe a little help from a witch and the Antichrist can get them out of this impending punishment.

Warning: change to Radio canon, taking a few elements from Drama canon, does include the ending of the two living in South Downs together. There is also the hint that they’ve been a couple since Eden in this cause it’s my headcanon for this adaptation of the story, and if you listen to how they talk to one another, they clearly didn’t wait to be a couple, they just don’t admit to it cause why should they? Haha, but then again, that's just a headcanon and this is my story, so... *shrugs*

On with the fic!

--

All Tied Up with String

--

“Angel,” Crowley spoke as he stepped into the kitchen from the back door, seeing said angel sitting at the table, a cup of tea in his hand, “we have a problem.”

“Oh no, it’s that boy from the other day again, isn’t it?” Aziraphale sighed. “What did he steal from the garden this time?”

Crowley shook his head, glancing at the backdoor. He gestured for Aziraphale to follow and the man stood up, following the other out. “I scared him off, he won’t be returning. No, this is much different, much worse.”

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow, until he smelled something, pulling a face. It’s been a while since he’s smelled such a scent, not since the Not-Apocalypse. “Sulfur…” He whispered aloud as he approached where the demon had stopped, seeing the scorch marks on the ground.

They were a signa, Crowley’s, but this wasn’t his work. He’d never mark his garden in such a way, not even as a threat to his plants. This was a letter for him, and Aziraphale felt his blood run cold. “Hell sent you something? Don’t they usually interrupt your programs to do so?”

“Haven’t done it in months, not since that day the world was supposed to end.” Crowley growled as he knelt down, touching at the signa. He lifted his hand, dirt and grass rising with it, taking shape into that of a letter. “They aren’t bothering with the easy stuff, they sent me a letter.”

Carefully, Aziraphale stepped closer, avoiding the ground, just in case. Didn’t want to hurt his feet on ground that could be corrupted now.

“’Demon Crowley, you are to be summoned to Hell at any given point between Tuesday and Thursday. We will give you no warning except this. We do not need to give you a warning, but we like instilling the fear that one will know they are to be executed in due time. It’s a joke to us, just as you are also a joke to us.

You cannot run or hide; we will come for you.’ Oh dear…” The angel frowned. “Crowley, what will you do?”

“I have no clue, go to Alpha Centuri or something, probably. This is not good, I knew that the quiet and calm was going to end, just didn’t think it would be so soon… usually they put off this kinda thing for demons like me until later, when they remember.”

“Ah, but you are a well-known demon, my dear.” Aziraphale sighed softly, shaking his head. “You’ve made quite the name for yourself, even before Beelzebub found out you were trying to prevent the end of the world.”

“My ‘bad deeds’ always do come back to bite me in the ass, don’t they?” Crowley glowered deeply at the letter, watching it burst into flames. “The bastards ruined my garden, now nothing will grow in that spot!”

“Well, you were thinking of installing something out there anyway, maybe a nice bird bath, or even just a normal fountain.”

The dark-haired man snorted, heading for the cottage. “No, you’re the one who wanted to install something, so you had something in my garden.”

“I did let you have those detective novels added to my shelves in the reading room.” Aziraphale replied as he followed him inside. “I think it’s a fair enough-oh good Lord!” He gasped, seeing something impaled into their table.

He was quick to push Crowley back, the demon tense as he felt the gentle waves of something holy. “They found me too…” Aziraphale hissed, approaching the table.

A long, thin, golden pin, much too long to be anything like the ones Shadwell used, seemed like a hat pin, was stabbed into the table, through a letter. Carefully, Aziraphale removed it and looked at the end of the pin, where a golden design was on it. “It’s from the Archangels, this is theirs.”

Crowley hissed himself, backed up against the door. “Get rid of it, I can feel the holiness from it, it’s foul!”

Aziraphale glanced at him and waved his wrist, the pin vanishing from sight, and the demon sighed loudly, relaxing instantly. “What’s your letter say?” He asked.

“The same as yours, though not through a terribly executed joke. They are telling me that I will die sometime in the same time period as yours, but they have it as a ‘trial’ rather than an execution. Ah, I should have known, they wouldn’t let me get away with all the stuff I’ve done.”

“Stopping the Apocalypse, trying to prevent the war, getting too involved in Earth stuff…” Crowley started to count on his fingers, before smirking, “moving in with your adversary and sleeping in his bed at night, though sleeping could mean anything between us now, yes?”

He got a stare from the angel that meant for him to shut up. “Right, well… what should we do?”

Aziraphale sighed and crushed the letter in his hand. “I don’t know, I’ve never been one to be involved in the executions of angels. But… I know trials often result in punishments that are most dreadful. Falling is a problem, as is being de-ranked, and I’m already in the lowest tier of angels as it is, but there is of course… actually execution.”

“We’re not really easy to kill, angel.”

“There are ways, Crowley.” Aziraphale approached him. “Holy water for you, and you… you had some in your home for so long.”

“Since the 60s…” Crowley replied quietly. “I told you it was a good idea, having it as insurance.”

Aziraphale quietly nodded, he had seen the results of the holy water on the floor of Crowley’s flat when they came back to London after the Tadfield stuff. Crowley had explained to him what had happened, that those smears on his floor and on his desk were that of Ligur and Hastur, two demons who wanted to kill him.

“Hellfire for you.” Crowley spoke, snapping Aziraphale from his thoughts. He could see a look on the other’s face, a haunted look that passed so quickly. It’s been six months since that day, and Crowley still felt nervous about fires, thinking about the bookshop when it burned, when he thought he had lost his dearest companion to the fires of Hell cause he couldn’t sense him at all.

“That’s probably what will be used, we’ve broken so many rules, Crowley. We’ve broken the rules since 4004 B.C., it was only a matter of time before they caught onto these things, figured out about the Arrangement, about how we worked together, about…” He waved a hand about, then gestured to the two of them, “everything.”

“We don’t have much time; we only have two days to come up with a plan before the clock starts ticking.”

The angel nodded and stepped forward, leaning against Crowley, suddenly feel exhausted. “I was hoping they gave up on us. Not a word, not a letter, not a broadcast interruption in half a year, but now they decide to contact us, after we came out here, happily together in our little cottage. They know everything.”

“Still can’t believe it took them six thousand years.” Crowley replied, putting his arms around the other. “Wow, our bosses are so dumb!”

There was a loud snort before a laugh from Aziraphale. “Oh, I could have told you that, Crowley. Ah, but... what should we do?”

“Ask book girl? She still has that prophesy book, right?”

Aziraphale nodded, but then shook his head. “I’ve read through it, it says nothing about this, I’m sure. The predictions go up until the End.”

“Doesn’t hurt to ask. You never know, I bet some of those predictions were read wrong, or won’t come true until later, ya know? Cause didn’t you once tell me that Agnus Nutter’s work didn’t sell cause no one wanted predictions like the ones she gave?”

“I remember telling you that a while back, yes, on the way back to London in the stolen jeep.”

“Well then!” Crowley pulled him back, golden eyes meeting blue. “I think we should go and pester our human friends, what do you say?”

--

Aziraphale nearly jumped when the book was dropped loudly onto the coffee table in front of him, he also nearly lashed his tongue at Anathema for just dropping such a rare book like that! He decided just to give her a hard glare, but she just sat herself down, waving a hand at it. “There you go! Just as you had returned it to me!”

She then glared at Crowley who just smiled happily at her, wiggling his fingers as if waving. “Burnt and damaged.” She snipped.

“I apologized! I wasn’t really expecting my car to be completely set on fire like that! Besides, it survived, didn’t it?”

“Over three hundred and fifty years…” Anathema started, until Adam sat down between Crowley and Aziraphale, throwing open the book.

“So! What are we looking for in here?” The possibly-former-Antichrist asked as he tried to read through the old script from centuries ago.

Crowley and Aziraphale had made the drive to Tadfield and had stopped by without much of a warning at Jasmine Cottage. Anathema and Newt had been there, with Adam over because he wanted to borrow the newest issue of the New Aquarian from that month. He had gotten interested in what was going on when he heard the angel ask if Anathema knew of any prophesy meant to take place after the world was originally supposed to end.

“Anything that could do with what will save Crowley and me from dying a death worse than anything anyone in this room could ever imagine.” Aziraphale sighed as he took the book, setting it on his lap. Adam just looked away, leaning against him to do so.

“Didn’t this book, like, end when the world was ‘posed to?” He asked as he flipped a page, only for Aziraphale to flip it back.

Anathema leaned back in her seat, raising an eyebrow. “So, the forces of Heaven and Hell are really coming for you two? Why even give you guys a warning?”

“Because Heaven and Hell work like a business.” Crowley explained. “Basically, they gave us our pink slips.”

“Pink slips with the bonus message of ‘you’re going to die’, right?” Newt asked from where he stood, watching the group.

“Exactly!” Crowley smirked, but then frowning, crossing his arms. “This is serious, normally our old sides don’t usually do this sort of thing much nowadays, ain’t like it was during the days of the Old Testament, what with all the smiting and cursing, that sort of thing.”

“What we’ve done is very serious.” Aziraphale spoke up as he flipped another page, eyes scanning the writings. He frowned deeply, running a hand through his dark locks. “They’ve figured out what we’ve been doing for six thousand years, because we didn’t… really do much when it came to stopping the world’s end. That was basically you three.”

Newt tilted his head. “What have you two been doing for so long that they have to punish you?”

“Being in a relationship.” Crowley explained, only to get punched in the arm. “Ow! What the Heaven was that for!? Bless, angel, that hurt!”

Aziraphale glared daggers at him before straightening his back and tried to make himself look prim and proper, but that didn’t erase the smug look on his face as he saw Crowley rub his arm. “As my idiot friend here said, Crowley and I are in a bit of a relationship that isn’t really what angels and demons would like. We’re technically enemies, yes, but we’ve never really been enemies.”

“Not since Eden, but that didn’t last long, did it?” Adam spoke up and the two looked at him with wide eyes. “Oh, don’t look so surprised! I’m the Antichrist! I know all about you two!”

“How much do you know…?” Aziraphale asked, his face as red as Crowley’s tie.

“Just enough to know that you two like kissin’ and stuff.” He took the book from the angel and started flipping through the pages, trying to see if anything looked interesting. “Needs pictures…” He mumbled to himself, ignoring how mortified Aziraphale looked and Crowley wanting to get up and go sleep in a hole in the ground for the next three centuries.

Anathema cleared her throat. “R-right, well, I’m sure there might be something in the book. Oh, now I wish we hadn’t burnt Agnus’ second book…”

Aziraphale gasped loudly, taken out of his shock. This resulted in him and Anathema arguing about the book burning, with Newt trying to calm them both down. Crowley watched the chaos in front of him with interest, while Adam completely ignored them all.

The boy stopped on one prophesy near the end, tilting his head. “How about this one?” He asked, showing it to Crowley, as he knew he wouldn’t get the other three’s attention as easily.

Raising an eyebrow, Crowley lowered his shades as he looked over the prophesy. “’When alle is sayed and all is done, ye must choose your faces wiseley, for soon enouff ye will be playing with Fyre.’ Seems… interesting. What do you think?”

“I think…” Adam spoke, tapping his chin as if in thought, “I think you two might have to switch places.”

“What?”

“Well, this kinda reminds me of a time that me and The Them got into a bit of trouble and Brian and I both messed up but we took the blame for the other’s problem so that our parents wouldn’t punish us too badly and we’d just get a lecture from each other’s folks.”

Crowley sat there for a moment, pondering over this, ignoring the argument that was still happening, before he snapped his fingers, grinning. “Kid, I think you’re onto something! Angel, come on, we’ve got a plan!”

Aziraphale paused, mid rant, as he looked over at the demon and Antichrist. “What do you mean?”

Crowley took the book and approached the dark blond, showing him the passage. Anathema glanced over, blinking. “You think that’s meant for you two?”

“Did your ancestors ever figure out what it was for?” Newt asked.

“The notecard for it had two other ones stapled to it, no one could figure out what it meant, fit with too many things… it’s possible that it could be for you two.”

Aziraphale nodded at this. “Ah yes, I mean, Agnus did have one for me, knowing I was reading her book. She called me a foolish Principality.”

“Which you are.” Crowley replied, ignoring the look he got. “I think this is our best bet. Come along, angel, we’ve got work to do.”

He snapped the book shut, giving it to Anathema. He stepped over to Adam, giving him a thanks, before grabbing Aziraphale, pulling him along, ignoring his protests.

--

St. James’ Park was just as it always is on a day like this, beautiful, enjoyable, full of people just doing their normal things.

Aziraphale found Crowley standing in line at an ice cream vendor and he slipped over, moving to stand right the right of the man in dark clothing. He noticed that the other wasn’t really wearing his trainers today but made no comment. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Ah, same to you.” Crowley replied. “A strawberry lolly and a vanilla with a flake, yeah?”

The vendor nodded, getting their treats for them. Crowley glanced about before leaning closer to the other. “Anything at the shop?”

“Not a single feather or halo in sight. The flat?”

“Still empty, not even a burn or a note.”

Crowley took the treats, handing the ice cream cone to the more casually dressed man. “They’ll find us, they’re waiting for their moment to strike.”

Aziraphale frowned, giving his treat a taste as he stepped away, moving to walk with Crowley down a path they both knew well. “You don’t think they’re stupid enough to strike in broad daylight, do you?”

“Oh, I think they are.” Crowley sighed, almost dramatically. “They’re not subtle about things, not enough time spent on Earth to be so, what with how the texts have described our lots appearing to people in the past.”

“With too much flash and scaring the sh-” There was a muffled yelp and Crowley blinked, turning around sharply to see Aziraphale being pulled away towards a truck, used to pick up deck chairs around the park. He was suddenly bound and gagged with ropes and tape; blue eyes wide.

“S-Stop!” Crowley shouted, seeing that angels were dressed up as park employees, dragging the struggling man away.

He was shoved back by an angel he didn’t know, who smiled at him. “Best to take care of some unfinished business.”

Another suddenly appeared next to him, smiling as well. “Tied up with string, like a present.”

A blink of the eye, and they were gone, as was the truck and Aziraphale.

“N-no! Stop, give him back!” The dark-haired man shouted again, trying to find any evidence of them, only for there to be a sudden strike to head. He dropped like a rock to the pavement, his vision swimming as he looked to see a group of demons, grinning at him, dressed as humans.

“Oh… bugger.” He spoke before passing out.

--

The scent of Hell was dreadful, Crowley didn’t care much for it, never had, never will. It was so unclean, so much like the worst kinds of damp basements, with just the slightest hint of fermented shark.

He found himself standing before several high members of Hell, but only Beelzebub seemed to be the one with a voice here. The other demons, all Princes, he noted, were behind the Lord of the Flies, in their own seats, but not the throne like the terrifying demon before him was.

“Yo.” Crowley replied, giving a little salute. “How’s it goin’? Public kidnapping, I see, feels like the old days. Did we use to do that back before the fall of Rome, or am I remembering wrong?”

“Demon Crowley…” Beelzebub started, but Crowley seemed more interested in his train of thought.

“I was remembering wrong, yes, it was during the fourteenth century. Uhg, dreadful century that one was, so much death and such, disgusting. Ah, but it’s in high praises here, isn’t it? So many souls for Hell and such. Anyway, you’re putting me on trial?”

Beelzebub growled, though it sounded much more like a swarm of flies buzzing in a tin can. Crowley made a face as he shoved his hands in his pockets. “Yezzzz… you are on trial; do you know why?”

“Cause… I did a lot of stuff you didn’t care for?”

“Be zeriouzzzz!”

Crowley scoffed, straightening his back. “I am on trial, which I doubt is a trial, because I have made an arrangement with an angel, our enemy. I have done countless acts of both temptations and blessing because of it.” He ignored he hisses and snarls from the audience of Princes and lesser demons.

“And I have been in a relationship with the angel Aziraphale, Principality of the Eastern Gate of Eden, since Eden.” He replied. “Oh, and I killed two demons with holy water.”

This just caused more chaos from the audience, until Beelzebub turned and screamed at them to shut up. He turned and looked at Crowley, the was nothing but pure rage and disgust on his face. Crowley just stood his ground, and that only made his rage grow. “Demon Crowley, for what you have done… you will be punished.”

“I see, and I figured.” The dark-haired man replied, exposed eyes looking around. “So, what’s it gonna be? Eternity in the deepest pit? Having to be stuck continuously keeping the road of frozen door-to-door salesmen frozen, because that would suck, seeing as I’m the poor fool who made that road in the first place. Or is it going to be stuck on torture tryouts? Not really a fan of being the guy stuck having to be poked, prodded, and horrendously torn apart just to see if a new method of torture is worth it. Though I think, if I may make a suggestion, some of the stuff written own in Buddhist texts on hellish torment could be of use…”

“Zilence!” The Lord of Flies shouted, and Crowley snapped his mouth shut. “No, your punizhment will be none of that, all that will be like a walk in the park compared to what we have in mind for you. We’re going to eliminate you for good, as painfully as pozzible. Letting the punishment fit the crime.”

There was a heavy silence in the room and Crowley tensed up, smelling something, a strong sent getting close and closer. A door opened and Crowley stared at an angel, he knew them, everyone knew them. They were infamous to all demons and angels, an Archangel who also happened to be a Seraphim for having been the one to take down the ruler of demons.

“Michael.” Crowley hissed, eyes wide.

The angel Michael looked at him with a smile that was cold as the ninth circle of Hell. They didn’t say a word as they seemed to hold up a clear jug of something, the smell was obvious, so pure, so clean, something that not even an animal with the best nose in the world could pick up, but angels and demons knew it.

“Holy water…”

“The holiest.” Michael replied, smile still on their perfect face. It was then that Crowley noticed the bathtub in the room, when had that materialized? Michael approached it and tipped the jug, water pouring into it. The demons in the room gasped, keeping their distance. Crowley swallowed; hands clenched tight in his pockets.

The room was silent as Michael stood there, pouring the water in. But Crowley broke it when he looked at the angel. “How did you get roped into this?”

“We made a careful exchange, just for the occasion. Your ‘friend’ is dealing with one of yours from down here. Though, I’m sure he’s already been dealt with by now.”

“…” Crowley kept his mouth shut tight; his eyes focused on the water as it miraculously continued to pour from the vessel that clearly shouldn’t be holding that much water in it. What felt like hours was only a few minutes before the tub was full and Michael stepped away.

“I’ll return for it. And don’t worry, it’s real.” Michael spoke, dipping their fingers into the water, before flicking a bit at a demon guard who had been standing at the door, just in case Crowley tried to escape. The demon screamed, the scent of burning flesh in the air as his skin burned from just the little specks of holy water.

“… Lovely.” Crowley gulped.

“Any lazt wordz, traitor?” Beelzebub asked, looking down at him from his throne.

Crowley was quiet for a moment before loosening his tie. “Can I not do this in my suit? It’s really nice, don’t wanna ruin it, it’s still new.”

--

Aziraphale gently tugged at the ropes bound around his wrists, frowning when he felt them tighten up at the movement. Great, lovely, okay, perfect. He huffed, looking around at the polished, sterile look of the room he was in. Heaven was so terribly clean, plastic, it was like walking into a certain electronics brand store, only with a little more emotion to it.

He looked at the two figures before him, the Metatron, in all his bright, floaty glory. And an Archangel who Aziraphale really didn’t want to deal with, he was more annoying in person than he was through his stupidly stern letters and memos.

“Metatron. Gabriel.” Aziraphale greeted with his typical, smug, annoyed smile he saved for customers that he knew he’d win an argument with without too much effort.

“Aziraphale.” Gabriel replied, all prim and proper, his hair tied up without a stray hair in sight. Aziraphale wanted to punch him.

“DO YOU KNOW WHY YOU ARE HERE, AZIRAPHALE?” The Metatron spoke, his voice echoing even more so in the spacious room.

Aziraphale sighed loudly, rolling his eyes. “Why even ask? You know exactly why I am here, tied to a chair, which I might add is a little cliché. Also, does God know you’re doing this? Is He aware that you’ve got one of His warriors tied up?”

“Shut up.” Gabriel frowned. “And tell us why you’re here, we want to hear it from you.”

The dark blond sighed once more, flexing his fingers. “I am here because you have discovered that I have spent time with a demon, in more ways than one, especially in the biblical sense. I also tried to prevent Armageddon, performed both blessings and temptations, and I moved in with my demon.”

He got nasty looks for that last bit, but he just gave them his smug smile. “Is there anything else? I could go into excessive detail of all the things I’ve done that have really went against our so-called Heavenly doctrines, but then again, you guys have been changing those things so often it’s hard to tell nowadays, yes?”

“AZIRAPHALE, IT IS BEST YOU STOP TRYING TO FIGHT, YOU HAVE NO OPTIONS OTHER THAN DEATH TODAY.” The Voice of God spoke, staring the other down.

“I figured that was the case, not even going to delay this, yes? What is the death? Not even going to give me the option of a Fall?”

“Ha!” Gabriel grinned, narrowing his eyes. “You’d like for that, just so you could be with your demon! But that’s not going to happen, he’s probably dead now anyway!”

Aziraphale snapped his attention to the Archangel. “He’s dead?”

“Quite possibly, Hell doesn’t like to delay executions like that, especially for traitors like him. And we shall not prevent the end for you either, as you are just as much of a traitor to your kind as he is.”

There was a quiet pause from Aziraphale, closing his eyes before bowing his head. “Alright, I supposed we do not have much else to do but to accept our fates at this point, am I right?”

“YOU ARE.”

Aziraphale saw someone approach, a demon he didn’t recognize, must be a lesser one. Oh, wait, it was a disposable demon, not sure why Hell had them, but then again… yeah, no, it’s a good idea that Hell has them, or else Hell would have a lot less demons to punish for stupid reasons and for their army.

The demon was grinning, holding up a lantern, with a fire that had blue eyes widening. “Hellfire?”

“Oh yes,” The demon chuckled, too giddy about this, “from the hottest pit of Hell! The best, saved just for you!”

“Well…” He swallowed. “Guess treason gets the best of the best in terms of execution, the humans think the same with a sword to the back of the throat.”

Gabriel smiled; hands folded behind his back. “You’re right about that, you were such a smart angel, but also just a bit too stupid as well. Alright, let him have it.”

The ropes dropped suddenly and Aziraphale stood from his chair, stepping forward. The demon stood there, holding the lantern, opening the door. Aziraphale felt the heat from the fire before he turned to look at the Archangel and the Voice of God. He gave them a bright smile as he straightens out his sleeves and his bowtie.

“Well, lovely knowing you all. May we meet on a better occasion.”

“WE WON’T.” The Metatron replied. “IT’S HELLFIRE, IT WILL DESTROY YOU ABSOLUTELY AND UTTERLY AND FOREVER.”

“Now shut your stupid mouth and die already.” Gabriel smiled brightly, but it was strained.

Aziraphale stood there, giving a shrug, before the hellfire in the lantern suddenly flew out, engulfing the man in its flames.

--

The Princes and lesser demons watched on in horror at the sight before them, at the water that spilled over the edges of the old, dirty tub, of the pleased humming from the figure who sat inside of it.

They stared in pure terror as Crowley, pleased as peaches, relaxed in the holiest of holy waters. He was down to his boxers and a tank top, and, oddly enough, his socks. In one hand was a book, one he had been meaning to finish reading, the other flicking water about as he hummed a merry tune to himself.

“What is he doing…” One Prince asked his brother, trying to keep away from the drops of water that were flicked in their direction.

“I don’t know.” Beelzebub replied, eyes wide. “But he’z gone native!”

“Ah, this book is so good!” Crowley said with a pleased tone to his voice. “I’d recommend it to you lot, but I doubt any of you would appreciate Paradise Lost, you know?”

The door opened and Michael made their return. “I’m here for the…” Their bright eyes looked at the relaxing figure in the bath. “Oh Lord.”

Crowley glanced over, blinking, before grinning. “Michael! My good angel, would you be a dear and miracle me up a towel, that’s a good feather brain.” He chuckled when the angel handed him a fluffy towel that suddenly appeared in their hands.

Carefully, Crowley shifted, and the book vanished from his fingers as he looked at the demons and the lone angel. “I think that was one of the best baths I’ve ever had.” He commented, smiling happily.

He got out of the bath, rubbing himself down with the towel, miraculously becoming perfectly dry as it passed over his skin. He finished and stood there, looking at the scared and uncomfortable crowd.

“Well then,” His smile was smug, nearly cat-like, “I bet you’re thinking to yourself ‘if he can handle this, what else can he handle? What can his angel do?’”

There was a silence in the air, and he shrugged, moving to get dressed with a snap of his fingers, once more in his dark clothes, straightening up his red tie. “I think it would be for the best if we are left alone in the future. Don’t you?”

Beelzebub and Michael both silently nodded as Crowley flashed them a grin, putting his shades over his eyes, stepping towards the door, dropping the towel on the Archangel’s shoulder.

“Beautiful! Just lovely! Well then, so long!”

--

The Metatron, Gabriel, and the lesser demon stared in shock and terror as Aziraphale stood in the fire without any trouble, in fact, it almost appeared as if he was enjoying it as one would enjoy a nice, hot shower after a long day.

He cracked his neck and turned to look at them. He smiled before throwing back his head and spewing hellfire at the two celestial beings, who were quick to back away in fear. Gabriel yelped when his suit nearly caught on fire.

Aziraphale smirked, his grin almost devilish.

“HE’S… NOT ONE OF US ANYMORE.” The Metatron spoke, his echoing voice nearly shaking.

Gabriel nodded numbly and gestured for the demon to close the door for the lantern. The fires died quickly and Aziraphale stood there, gently dusting soot off of his shift and coat. “Luckily for you, this didn’t burn.” He commented, his cold, blue eyes on the two angels.

He then brightened up and chuckled. “It seems that not even Heaven’s strongest punishment can work on me, how interesting. So, what happens now?”

“WE HAVE NO CHOICE… BUT TO LET YOU GO.”

“Smart move there.” He adjusted his bowtie once more, stepping away from the three as he made his way for the elevator, throwing a hand up over his shoulder with a small wave. “Ciao!”

The elevator dropped down to the main floor, just as the elevator next to it rose up to the same floor. Aziraphale stepped out of his, turning to look at Crowley who was walking with a relaxed swagger, turning to face his companion.

“Now that was playing with fire.” Aziraphale said in a tone that was not his usual one.

“Seems you were right.” Crowley replied, his voice lighter in tone, the smile on his face like that of a cat that ate the canary.

--

They found themselves on a bench in Berkeley Square, keeping an eye out for anyone who was not human. Crowley sat, straight back and rather proper, hands on his lap. Aziraphale was to his left, leaning back, a leg crossed over the other.

“Do you think they’ll leave us alone for good now?” Aziraphale asked, looking at the man sitting next to him.

“Hmm… at a guess, they’ll pretend it never happened.” Snake eyes looked around. “Right, anyone looking?”

Aziraphale shook his head after a quiet pause, holding out his hand. “Nobody. Right, swap back then?” He smirked as Crowley took his hand and the world around them froze.

It took just seconds in that frozen bubble for Crowley’s clothes to change to that of a tan coat, tartan bowtie, and a blue shirt and tan pants. His dark locks changing to dirty blond, styled much differently. The face was completely different, and the eyes were much more human-like in appearance.

Aziraphale’s own clothing choice became black, with the bowtie becoming a crimson tie, his dress shoes now dirty, red trainers. His hair was black, slicked back, and blue eyes became those of a snake.

They were themselves once more, no longer wearing the faces of their counterpart. Crowley cracked his neck as Aziraphale shook himself out, reaching up to remove the dark shades from his face, handing them to the demon. “Why’d you make me wear dress shoes?” Crowley asked, happy to be in his more comfortable pair.

“Because I have standards, and I didn’t want to wear those old things.” Aziraphale replied as time started up again.

Crowley shrugged, scooting closer, wrapping an arm around the angel. “Right, well, now that we aren’t dying today and we are back in London… might I tempt you to a spot of lunch?”

Aziraphale looked at him, chuckling. “Hmm… well, temptation accomplished! Ah, you know what, I do suspect that a table for two just opened up at the Ritz, my who expected that! Must be a miracle!”

He rose from the bench, taking Crowley’s hand as the two of them walked down the path to make their way to their favorite place. Today calls for a celebration, neither of them died, Heaven and Hell fear them, and they know they’ll be left alone to live out their immortal lives without the trouble of nosy bosses.

And what better way than a date at the Ritz.

END

--

I made a few minor changes to the trials, simply because I really didn’t want to write for a lot of characters, and because I took some inspiration from the script book for it.

I also really like how much more cocky and snarky Radio Aziraphale and Crowley are, they really are that smug, especially Aziraphale.

I should note that I kept mentioning Aziraphale as a dirty blond, or a dark blond, cause I really can’t tell what color his hair is! I’ve seen pictures of his actor and some images have dark hair, others have a lighter tone, I know it’s the lighting, but it’s the same thing as Michael Sheen’s eyes being hazel/blue/gray in different lights, so for the sake of Good Omens... he’s got dark blond hair, nearly brown.

Thanks for reading! 

Also, one-shot and drabble requests are always opened on my tumblr, and if you send me a prompt, especially for these two, I’ll see what I can do.

[wlw-imagines-blog]

Abandonment, Enthroned. {Part 3} (Fem!reader x Wanda Maximoff)

Part 1, Part 2

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!reader

Warnings: None for this part

Tags: apocalypse au, enemies to friends to lovers, no powers au,

Word count: 2.6K

Summary: “All the leaves are brown, and the sky is grey. I’ve been on a walk, on a winter’s day” - John Philips

After checking on Goat, you surveyed the apple orchard. You gathered two whole baskets of red and green apples, picking more off the garden floor than from the branches. Maybe if you went into town next week, you could find enough spices and sugar to make a pie. You smiled. That'd brighten both your and Wanda's mood. You pulled the little hand wagon full of apples and freshly picked blackberries behind you, just around the edge of the estate.

The dirt path separated the cornfield from the wild berry bushes that prowled closer, and closer to the house.

The sight made you smile. There was something so beautiful about how mature always found a way to grow and adapt despite humanity’s meddling.

You remembered what your mother would say when you helped her prune the apple trees as a young girl. The forest can grow without humans, but humans can’t grow without the forest.

It was not hard to imagine what the farm would look like without any care from you. You could already see the invasive sap suckers moving in to demolish the orchard. Tough weeds and ivy crawling and choking out the cornfield and destroying the greenhouse. The blackberry bushes would eventually dominate the house, alongside ivy and ferns.

This wasn’t just a daydream. You knew that in a few years, maybe decades, that that would be the future of your safe haven. 

You looked up as you strolled. Every inch of the sky was covered with grey, but the clouds had yet to open and release.

As you turned the corner, a figure emerged from the tall stalks of corn, dark and staggering.

You stopped, blood turning to ice. The gun you kept in your waistband was in your hand within a second, safety off.

The man, tall and fit, was facing away, only turning when he heard the clank of the wagon handle hitting the ground.

He was light skinned, with long, dark hair. His bright eyes were clouded with a heavy glare. The jacket he wore was black, just like his boots and pants. The insignia was scratched off.

Much like the one Wanda wore, the day you met her.

His face was weather beaten, hair matted, hands bound in weathered bandages. The look in his eye made your heart twist; he seemed so lost, face pinched and confused.

He stood between you and the house.

Between you and Wanda.

"I'm not accepting visitors today," you called out, voice even. It took everything to choke down the fear.

There would have been the option to invite him inside, maybe even help him, if Wanda wasn't upstairs. If she wasn't resting inside, injured, barely able to walk. She was in no state to defend herself.

You called out again. "Come back in two weeks, I might be able to help you. But not now."

The man did nothing. He watched you, sharp blue eyes glancing over the wagon, to the gunning your hand.

"Get out of here, before I get twitchy," you stepped closer.

He pursed his lips, eyes narrowing.

“Two weeks,” he repeated after what felt like an eternity, before turning away.

Your throat constricted, tight until he walked past the house. You followed him for a few paces, making sure he stayed far away from Wanda.

The man disappeared down the cracked asphalt road, and you watched before fetching the wagon. You hadn't even realized the sweat that had formed on your brow, despite the cold.

As you approached the house, you saw Wanda standing in window of the second floor bedroom. Her eyes were darting from you, to where the man had last been. As she stepped away, you pulled the wagon into the house.

"Who was that?" Wanda asked as you stepped through the front door. She stood with her arms crossed while you carried the baskets to the kitchen. "What did he want? Where was he from?"

You gave her a once over, taking in her pale face and fidgeting hands. There was an unfamiliar tension in Wanda’s shoulders, one that trickled into her voice.

She was nervous. Terrified, even.

Her eyes kept shifting from you to the front door, as though she was waiting for the strange man to bust through. You couldn’t but feel the same jitters Wanda was emitting.

“I don’t know,” You placed the basket of apples down. “He didn’t say, I chased him away before he spoke a word. Why?”

“Nothing, never mind,” she said quickly, turning back to the living room.

It was your turn to cross your arms. “Don’t think I didn’t recognize that jacket he was wearing, Wanda.”

She froze, back stiff. “What about it?”

“You were wearing the same one when you showed up here, right?” You asked, walking to the basket of laundry. The jacket sat on top of the heap. “With the symbols all scratched out?”

Wanda audibly swallowed, forcing calm.

Pulling it out, you continued. “Is your last name Maximoff?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“Is that a no?” You stepped closer to her. “ Then who are you? What militia were you a part of?”

“I’m not a part of any militia! Not anymore.”

“Are you AWOL?”

“I- no, I’m not!” Wanda snapped.

“Then are you? A one woman army?” You threw the jacket onto the ground. “Who was that man outside, Wanda? You knew him, didn’t you?”

She said nothing, just shook her head.

“Wanda,” you pressed your hands together, remembering to breathe. “I cannot let you stay if you’re AWOL. I-I don’t want to get mixed up in the Militia, and the fucking stupid war on the East Coast. If your presence attracts headhunters, or mercenaries from the New Alliance, you need to leave. Now.”

Wanda turned, eyes wild with panic. “They aren’t looking for me, because they think I’m dead. They think my brother killed me three weeks ago.”

Your mouth turned dry. “What?”

She winced, hand hovering over the bandage on her hip. Sitting down heavily on the couch, Wanda only continued when you sat next to her.

“My brother and I, we joined the New Alliance Militia before the war even started. The New Alliance promised to end the nuclear wars, or at least find a way to stop the fighting within America. We were foolish enough to believe it. And at one point, w-we thought we were doing the right thing.” She lowered her eyes. “I didn’t know they were being paid by the government. Or that they were ravaging every city they came upon. I thought we lived in a new utopia that the New Alliance created. I thought it was perfect. I only figured out the truth a month ago, when I caught a broadcast by the Protectors over the transmitters.”

You listened, heart hammering. She had a brother? The boy from the photo?

“I knew I needed to get out. I planned to disappear and go north, as far as I could until the Militia couldn’t find me. But,” Wanda choked on her words. “My brother found out what i was planning, and he turned me in. I was going to be court martialed for abandonment and punished”

“Punished?”

“Privately executed.”

“Jesus Christ,” You whispered, hand over your mouth.“How did you escape?”

You saw the muscle in her jaw flex. “My brother saved me. When it came to the execution, he turned a blind eye; he helped me.”

“Why? Wasn’t he the one that turned you in?”

“I’m the only family he has left. He couldn’t go through with it. I got out of there and began to head east-”

“-And met me,” you finished, grimacing at your first impressions of each other.

She nodded.

“So, who was that outside?” you broached the topic carefully. ‘Why was he here?”

Wanda stood heavily, walking to the window. “I don’t know his real name. In fact, I’m pretty certain he doesn’t have one. The other soldiers in the Militia would call him the Winter Soldier.”

“Oh God,” You had heard the name mentioned several times over transmissions and radio channels. The Winter Soldier was the face of the New Alliance Militia. He was formidable, and credited for eradicating whole factions of Protectors.

The New Alliance’s favorite attack dog had been standing a few feet in front of you, just moments ago.

“There were rumors in the camp that every night, the Militia leader, Colonel Rumlow, and the other doctors brainwash him to be a killer,” she continued. “Sometimes when I was on evening parole, I could hear machines and screaming from his compound.”

“He... he could’ve...” your hands were clammy. “He could have killed us. Why didn’t he?”

Wanda paced, each step labored. “I don’t know. At first I thought the Militia had found out I escaped, and that maybe he was here for me, but he saw me in the window and left without a fight.”

“He was alone, and pretty beaten up. The insignia on his jacket was ripped off, like your’s was,”  You scratched your cheek. “Is there any chance he could be AWOL?”

“No,” she answered almost immediately. “I mean, he was the Militia’s most loyal soldier. I don’t know what could have make him turn.”

You nodded slowly. “Anything’s possible.”

“That’s true,” Wanda replied.

“He’ll probably come back.”

“Maybe.”

“We’ll be ready.”

She let out a dissonant laugh. “Yeah, and he’ll kill us before we blink.”

“He’s going to come back,” you remembered the encounter. “He said so himself.”

Wanda hummed, fingers brushing against the dog tags. “Then we’re definitely screwed.”

***

“North? North? You there?” The radio crackled to life. “It’s Queens, you awake?”

You seated yourself at your desk, on the desk light. “I’m here, is the channel secure?”

“Yup,” Queens sounded tired. You could imagine the young man, sitting in the pickup truck in the middle of nowhere, under the stars. Anxiety gripped your heart. “I’m gonna need some directions, North.”

“Where are you now?” You pulled out the various road maps that you had stored away. The study was next to your bedroom, and the second room that you frequented the most. Through the wall, you could hear Wanda tossing in bed.

You waited, listening to him yawn. “I’m in Illinois, just outside Chicago.”

“When was the last time you slept?” The clock on your desk read 2:36 am. “You need to be alert when you drive, Queens.”

“I’ve been driving non-stop,” He replied, letting out another yawn. “The truck’s tank is almost empty.”

You shook your head. “What are you going to do?”

There was a pause. “I...I don’t know.”

Despair was so thick in his voice, it made your eyebrows furrow. You cleared your throat, looking down at the map. “You’re almost here. It might take you a few more days, but you should be able to arrive without any problems.”

“Really?” Queens seemed to perk up. “Tell me how far I am.”

You were hesitant to give him a list of highways and slip routes to take. What if the channel wasn’t secure? What if someone was listening right now? prayed to god that Queens remembered most of them, there was a quiet knock at the door.

“Come in,” you called to the door. Wanda poked her head in, showing no traces of ever sleeping.

She wore her pajamas and one of your sweaters, arms crossed against the chill of the house. You nodded when she mouthed can I come in?

“Okay, North,” Queens said. “I’m going to settle in for the night. My eyes can’t stay open.”

“Sounds good, kiddo. Make sure you lock the doors and stay out of sight,” you responded.

“Aye aye captain,”

You grinned. “Goodnight. See you in a few days.”

“Goodnight, see you soon.”

You laughed softly and turned off the radio.

“Who was that?” She asked, sitting on the leather couch next to the desk. Her legs were crossed, hands folded. Your eyes landed on the strands of hair that had fallen out of her pony tail. The gas lantern on your desk illuminated her eyes, letting a warm light fall over her skin.

“Queens,” you responded, unable to swallow. “He’s a kid I found over the radio a year ago.”

She frowned. “Queens?”

“His code name,” you explained. “We can never be certain if the channel is secure, so we try to avoid using real names. I’ve already taken a risk in telling him how to get here.”

“And you’re ‘North’?”

“Uh huh. Like North Dakota.”

“Why are you helping him?” She asked carefully.

You smiled, a little strained. “Queens just got into high school when war broke out. There are so many people, especially kids, that are suffering because of this war. I want to help him get out in one piece.”

“He’s just some random kid?”

“He’s just some random kid.” You sat back in your chair. “He’s actually quite brilliant. I think he hasn’t gotten this far on pure luck; the kid’s a genius with machines.”

Wanda offered you a rare smile. “That’s really kind of you to help him.”

“It helps me sleep at night,” you shrugged, forcing nonchalance. The complement caught you off guard.

Wanda shook her head, face pinched. It was as though she could not muster the energy to be frustrated with you. “You’re a good person, Y/N.”

You laughed bitterly. “Wanda, I wasn’t always the bleeding heart humanitarian you see before you.” Leaning towards her, elbows on your knees, you spoke in a whisper. “It takes more than what you’re willing to give to live in the blast zone. You can’t tell me that I’m a good person, not after what I’ve done to get here.”

Wanda watched you intently as you rambled.

“It’s never been easy out here. Not once have I woken up and been glad to be alive; not since the war started. You have to be ruthless to survive, and I’m so damn tired of surviving. I want to live, and feel alive.” You choked out the last word, head dropping to your hands. “Wanda, it took so much of me to find a home in this wreckage. I’m so... so different now.”

If you knew everything, you’d call me a monster.

There was silence as you took in ragged breaths, as though you had never learnt to breathe. Those were words you had not ever spoken aloud. Instead of felling like a weight being lifted, the confession felt like a brick falling through glass, and now you were picking up the pieces. The moment the words were out, you felt hot embarrassment work its way through your system. God, did Wanda really want to hear about your sob story now?

You felt a cool hand on your wrist, pulling your hands away from your face.

Instead of the usual vindictive look she held in her eyes, Wanda was looking at you with nothing but sympathy. The corners of her lips were pulled into a soft smile that chipped away at the husk around your heart.

“It’s never too late to change, Y/N,” she murmured, eyes glancing down to where her hand encircled your wrist. “I know that better than anyone.”

Before you could think, your finger brushed over her knuckles, a gesture so intimate and unfamiliar. You closed your eyes.

“Thank you, Wanda.”

As fast as it happened, the hand was gone. When you looked up, Wanda was standing, appearing equally stunned as apologetic. In the dim light, you could see the faintest blush on her cheeks, but ignored it for now.

“Wanda, wait, plea-”

“Goodnight, Y/N,” she said quickly, unable to meet your gaze. “See you tomorrow.”

The door closed hastily, leaving you alone in your study, unable to comprehend what just happened. 

As you extinguished the lantern, you felt the phantom sensations of Wanda’s hand around your wrist, gentle and comforting.

As you crawled into the guest room’s bed, you forced yourself to stop over analyzing everything about Wanda.