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mars-ipan · 6 months

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overcoming anxiety (through practicing the things that scare you) is so interesting. i used to be horrified of taking up space or alerting other people of my presence. now i'm compelled to tell strangers i like their outfits or hair or earrings- on bad days i tell maybe a quarter of them. do i still overthink it? absolutely. but i call attention to myself to tell someone else my opinion. and with the way they tend to smile and tell me "thank you!" i'm pretty sure it's taken to heart.

i used to be horrified of making phone calls as well. this is one i'm still getting over- i just Don't Like Doing It. i used to have a phone call routine that i still joke about- realize i need to call someone, cry, avoid it for a few days, suck it up, write a script, memorize the script, cry again, final script read, make the call with the script in front of me. and i would be Exhausted by the end of it. i don't cry when i need to call people anymore. i'm even needing scripts less and less- i've found out that people actually won't kill me if i talk a little too fast or stumble on my words. i doubt i'll ever like making phone calls- i especially hate robots (i'm afraid they'll mishear me and direct me wrong or a person will suddenly show up and i won't be prepared)- but i can make them now.

i get overwhelmed really easy. just a thing that happens to me. my brain is really really good at taking one task and breaking it up into thousands of little tasks and it feels like i'm drowning. if i try to make it fewer larger tasks then it starts to feel insurmountable. i was completely lost on how to deal with this (other than avoid until you get that panic attack and can do work in the post-catharsis calm until 6:00 AM) until one night when my dad (who i often meet late at night due to overlapping mental illness symptoms) asked me how to eat an elephant. i looked at him, confused, and he said "one bite at a time." that was way more effective than any other analogy i've seen has been. "light at the end of a tunnel"- i don't feel like i'm moving forward, i feel like i'm scaling a wall. "steps on a trail"- i can see my destination, but it feels impossible to move forward. but eating an elephant? that sums it up perfectly. this huge task which seems impossible at a glance. but it must be done. so you eat the elephant, a bite at a time. every time i'm overwhelmed i repeat that phrase to myself. it hasn't made any major changes yet, but it keeps me calm enough to start before i hit the panic attack, which i'll take.

i was such a perfectionist growing up- i actually thought it was a good thing (school always taught me to strive for perfection). but it made me scared to try new things- if i wasn't immediately good at them, then it clearly wasn't for me. i'm still not great at starting new hobbies, but i try a lot of new things within the hobbies i already have. i test out different ways of making art, i try new puzzle games i don't understand, etc. and the feeling of steady improvement reminds me that i don't need to be good right away. some of the most satisfying moments don't come from immediately being good- they come from achieving that skill over time. i'd like to try to learn to sew soon.

idk it's interesting. i rewire my own brain's fear response by doing the Horrifying Thing enough times for me to understand that no i will not die. and while i'm doing it it feels like nothing is changing. i get so stressed every time- it can actually take a lot out of me (turns out fight-or-flight burns a lot of energy). but i look back at then vs. now and i realize how far i've come, and i can't help but think "huh. neat"

#marzi speaks #this post has no point. i am simply thinking out loud #i think understanding the root of where the anxiety comes from helps a lot too #like. my mom feels most secure when she's in control #she doesn't like situations in which she can't control how she responds or what happens when she does #it makes her feel helpless. and that's how her GAD affects her #it's also why her fear response is 'fight'- she stress-cleans and expresses authority because those are things she can control #it's a self-soothing technique #but for me it's different. i'm most at ease when i know where i am and what's going on #this could be for plenty of reasons. i'm bad at directions and time blind so i feel lost easily #i had to learn to do a lot of things by myself growing up because my brother needed a bit of extra attention #my parents used to sometimes forget to tell me about things- i wouldn't know we were going somewhere until they asked me if i was ready #or even just that i was always surrounded by so much information and i love learning with my whole heart #when i can't know what will happen next or why something's happening in the first place i get disoriented and frightened #i don't need to have a say in what will happen. i just need to know. then i can roll with the punches #this is why MY fear responses are flight and freeze #i self-isolate because i know environments like my room and my mind #other people are unpredictable. i know what i will do #i like puzzles because they're something i can learn and figure out. once i understand it's a matter of patterns #and they take my mind off of the unknown i'm worried about #my mom will engage in a lot of conflict behavior. i engage in a lot of avoidant behavior #yes this caused arguments growing up lmao. i'd be freaking out abt smth and she'd be confused as to why i wasn't just going and fixing it #or she'd be freaking out abt smth and i'd be confused as to why she didn't try to just get all the facts #but we're better communicators abt that now teehee #it's interesting though. we have the same illness (generalized anxiety disorder) and are similar in a lot of ways #but because our root fears are different our responses to them are different #this could also be learned #my mom grew up poor and didn't get to do a lot- she worked her ass off to have financial freedom #i grew up comfortable with every question i asked entertained by two very smart parents. when a question can't be answered i feel dissonant #it's probably a bit of both in some cyclical manner. still nifty to think about

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beevean · 10 months

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Don't worry. I'm just as gobsmacked at the whole Erazor Djinn example as you are.

And that's unfortunate because he does make an interesting contrast to Chaos. You could argue that he was also a victim to an extent too because it's implied that he was set up to fail from the narrative in his world already being written/chosen for him. The difference is that he actively chose to target people who had nothing to do with it and be callous until the bitter end. Like, the fun thing about characterization him in me and my friend's AU is that Erazor really does believe that he is the "good guy" who was wronged by his world's creator and "the blue rat", and his burning hatred has only been solidified since then. In his mind he believes by forcing him to be his bride, he is "saving" Chris from his family name and the expectations of it he was born into, and getting his family "out of the way" was necessary. And no amount of "No means no"s will budge Erazor's convictions. It's still in character- at least I think so- and he's still very much a snake in the grass abuser. Only difference is that he moved on to a new victim, and found a new excuse to justify his God complex.

But nah. Sonic should have just put the evil bara genie in time-out!

Erazor had all the potential to be a tragic villain, but deliberately he chooses not to be.

He's a genie of the lamp in a written story he's aware of. He's doubly enslaved, and he wants to break free, which is more than understandable. In this, his main foil is Shahra, who is also a genie (and a lesser one, less powerful than him) and who is implied to have been trapped in her relationship with Erazor. And yes, he works as a foil for Chaos, who was also trapped in a magical object and developed burning hatred as a result.

But whoops, Erazor was imprisoned in his lamp as a punishment for his past evil deeds! Whoops, he actually wants to destroy the world and possibly Sonic's world as well! Whoops, he's a piece of shit towards Shahra - he tried to curse her with the Flame of Judgment, and that was in his first cutscene!

way to kill the sympathy bro

(hot take: another foil for him? The Deadly Six. They could have been sympathetic due to Eggman torturing them with the Magic Conch... but noooooo they just had to drain the world and get pissy against the one who saved them. nice job assholes)

But also. The thing is. I know that "it's not that deep" is a thought-terminating cliché, but... the Sonic series never meant to tackle these themes of who deserves redemption or to be spared. Sonic is a cartoon series where the protagonist can let the antagonist drown in fucking lava, and nothing bad happens! Am I supposed to think Sonic is a heartless sadistic murderer for the shit he put Eggman through in the Classics alone? Am I supposed to think that Sonic secretly cares about Eggman because he never dies, which means that Sonic always lets him go and never finishes the job? I don't know, and neither did the devs of the games! We don't know what Sonic wants to do with Eggman, because the games are rather self contained, and once the big bad robot is defeated, Sonic's job is done! Is Eggman lost into space, between timelines, vanished into thin air after his mech was destroyed? Who cares, he'll come back, it doesn't mean anything!

And this extends to all the other villains: is Sonic a horrible beast for killing Biolizard, letting Metal behind as he was angsting, erasing Solaris from the timeline? No, because the priority is saving the world, not applying morality to monsters!

Which more or less reminds me of something I said ages ago: Sonic's only "principle" is helping people in need. He has no principles regarding his enemies. He doesn't care. He only cares about doing good to those who need it.

#sonic the hedgehog

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marinaiguess · 2 years

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SONIC FRONTIERS TRAILER ANALYSIS + SPOILERS (I mean, what did you expect)

this trailer was all I was hoping for. I had high expectations for the next mainline sonic game and until now, sonic frontiers hasn't disappointed me. so, here's why I'm so hyped

the animations and the graphics look absolutely gorgeous, my boy finally has expressions!! (I know it's cgi but still)

all the different starfall islands + the cyberspace levels look very interesting and fun and beautiful

sage's: "submit" and sonic's: "fuck u bitch, I'm going anyway" yeah I loved that (he actually doesn't say anything but his face says it)

he goes so fast lol, this goes out to the ones who would complain about Sonic's lack of speed in this game

all the new gimmicks look fun, the bouncing off the walls, the new fighting techniques

oh don't get me started on these robots, they are unique and they look pretty challenging so I'm excited about that

the suspense is real, we see a locked up Amy, I wonder how sonic will save her and tails and knuckles (apparently they all lost their memories)

THE GODDAMN VOICE ACTING. honestly, I never found Roger's voice fitting for sonic. I always have respected his work however, don't get me wrong. but the delivery of that single line... PERFECT. I hope it's the same for the rest of the game, I've been dying for some good voice acting/good voice direction and good writing

speaking of good writing, as soon as I learned Ian Flynn is the writer for the frontiers' story, I was relieved and until now his work on the game has been proven to be damn good

idk what sage's powers are (atp I'm just assuming her name is sage) but wtf did she do to sonic, his arm went red and one could say his arm went null space (that red just reminds me of the phantom ruby and infinite's power, okay?)

wait, did his arm glitch? did sage glitch? bcuz I know for a fact that the cyberspace levels have some glitchy effects here and there. (sage is the glitch confirmed and if you know, you know)

oh I can see the pain in Sonic's face! and his anger! he has emotions! (lol)

she summoned a giant anthropomorphic robot vulture, almost 19 times bigger than sonic (maths), that's great :')

also, 60€? it seems fair but I ain't buying it for a little while it seems oops

I wasn't expecting that cover but I'm not complaining, it's pretty cool

the soundtrack? gorgeous. (judging by what we've heard) but it's a sonic game, ofc it will have a banger ost

also, it's a lot different than that Japanese trailer we saw a few days ago (which looked so pretty), I'm just saying

go visit the official website for sonic frontiers, there are some nice screenshots y'all should check out :)

and with that being said, I hope I can get this game sooner or later, I'm so hyped.

#sonic frontiers #sonic the hedgehog #sonic #sth #the new trailer was sick #ian flynn #amirite #analysis #look at all those eggman's robots

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bluesstorycorner · 7 months

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Book rating and info:

Fanart:

Here’s my first book review/fanart post I’m putting on Tumblr! I’m hoping to do more of these in the future :) Also there aren’t any spoilers in this review but I do go into a lot of details about the story and characters, so if you want to be surprised, I suggest reading the book first. But if you want a detailed review about this book before reading it, keeping on reading. ✨

ALSO also, please support the amazingly talented writer who wrote this book! Here is his link tree:

Review:

I had so much fun reading this book. It reminded me a lot of Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy with all of its wacky humor and crazy space adventurous, but with its own twist and writing style. Everything about this story is colorful from the world, to the technology, to the characters and more. It had found family, crazy cooperate politics, diverse characters, relatable struggles, and a really unique depiction of the future. I found myself laughing and cheering on the characters for every page and looked forward to reading it whenever I could. I would say my only critiques are related to the prose and world building. There were a lot of times where I didn’t understand what was going or had a hard time imagining things because of the way things were described which, in turn, made some of these colorful places and things get lost in the narrative. But I believe a lot of the errors I found will be resolved in the final draft, and I honestly had such a perfect image in my head most of the time that it wasn’t hard to connect the dots during the more difficult moments. I imagined everything like a cartoon because of the energetic, over the top, and sometimes slap stick type descriptions and situations which, in my opinion, is some of the best ways to tell a story. It’s so imaginative and creative and I wish more books took that approach honestly. It makes everything seem so colorful and clear in my head.

Regarding the world-building, it felt like it lacked a tad at times since I was unsure of why a lot of things were a certain way, but all in all, I was able to pick up on the way things worked eventually. The story knew what it wanted and did a pretty good job maneuvering us through this insane galactic world.

I think where the book lacked in prose/world-building, it made up for in its characters.

Oh. My. God. These characters. I love them unbelievably. They felt like family to me and I think I almost cried at the end lol. I loved seeing how these characters developed and how they each worked together to get their happy endings. They are all such a tight-knit family who love each other dearly, and each has their own unique, 3D personalities.

First, we have Jolene, a determined, hard-working waitress at Galaxy Waffles who also does a lot more work on the ship than her job requires, but that’s just the way she is. She’s reliable, and will always go above and beyond to help her ship and her crew no matter if it’s her duty or not. I related so much to her frustration as an overworked and underpaid staff member who just wants the best for her loved ones while also struggling as a minority in this world, being held back from opportunities because of her status. I think that part specifically hit very close to home and I loved how the book covered real-world topics like that but in its own fictional way. It was a great allegory and I think, as a minority myself, it approached it realistically, respectfully, and in a way that is digestible and understandable to younger audiences while also showing it in a way where older people can be like: “yeah I understand and/or sympathize with that.”

Then we have Boris, the veteran Robot and chef of the ship, and also probably my favorite of the crew. He’s such a kind-hearted, lovable sweetheart who’s witty, sarcastic, playful, and caring. He’s always got his heart in the right place and does what he can to help his crew mates and ensure they’re all safe and happy. He warmed my heart in every scene, and I wish I could be friends with him irl lol!

Next on the list is Murph, a quirky blue alien with a jelly body and shifting abilities. They’re such a crackpot with a huge personality. Whether they’re talking/acting like a mobster from their favorite old movies, turning their hand into a calculator, or shifting into hilarious creatures/beings, they always got a laugh out of me.

Lastly, we have O.D. and Erabella. O.D being the ship’s AI, usually appearing like a holographic, sentient waffle. And Erabella being a mostly Android prick in charge of the crew’s every move. Although I hated both of them at first because of their mean-spirited and spiteful personalities, I came to love O.D. as his arc progressed and was satisfied with Erabella’s ending.

I could go on and on about more characters, but you get my point. I also really enjoyed how the book read maturely but also cleanly at the same time. It’s NA, and it did a really good job at finding a middle ground between mature content that adults could relate to while also being clean enough and digestible for teenagers.

This book was such a colorful, whimsical, chaotic adventure that had me smiling, laughing, and feeling sad for these characters every step of the way. I really recommend this book to anyone looking for an easy-to-read space adventure with humor and heart, and I hope a sequel comes out because I’d love to see what these guys do next!

A/N: I was an arc reader for this book back in July, and though I’ve already posted my review on Goodreads and Amazon, I MEANT to post it along with this fanart on my accounts too but life got into the way. Better late than never I guess 😅

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thefanficmonster · 2 years

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May I request

Boyinaband x reader at is an animated YouTuber.

Thanks

Of course dear! To avoid a long wait I'll write your request in headcanons format - if you'd like a full fic feel free to let me know!

Enjoy 💕

Pairing: Boyinaband (Dave) x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: None :)

Genre: FLUFF, Romance, RPF (Real Person Fic)

- Expectedly or not, the two of you met through Jaiden

- You had started out as her editor and then started making your own content on YouTube

- So, as your subscriber count went up and as Jaiden's convincing started becoming more and more effective, you ended up agreeing to go to VidCon

- That's where she introduced you two

- It was all shy interactions and awkward laughs until you found your shared interests in video games and movies

- That's when you both turned into chatter boxes

- And ever since then - aka VidCon 2019 - you've been a real power couple

- At the beginning of 2021 you moved in together and it was then that you really took in the fact that you were both workaholics

- Like, you knew from the day you met, but it never really struck either of you how much you had meant it

- You have a two bedroom apartment which has proven to be perfectly fit for two artists like you

- Your office is situated in the corner of your and Dave's shared bedroom which has ended up being perfectly enough big of a space with several outlets nearby for all the gear you need while making a video and the animation itself

- The other bedroom is Dave's studio

- You have great memories in it, soundproofing it was fun due to how much you'd goof around and get little to nothing done

- It's not the best sound isolation, y'all couldn't afford some a-class stuff with your small budget but it's doing you well

- The neighbors aren't complaining and you can always listen to his recording sessions while you draw

- Speaking of drawing, you get lost in it, losing track of time altogether

- Dave often has to come in and remind you that you aren't a robot designed specifically for that activity

- On a rare occasion it's the other way around, but due to his burnout it's been more of the first case scenario

- While on the topic of burnout...

- Being content creators, you experience it a lot

- And being both content creators and artists just amplifies it

- But luckily you have each other, both knowing what it's like and both knowing how to help the other get through and out of those dark woods as soon as possible

- It goes without saying that you're one strong support system and a lovely unit

- You're both affectionate people but express that side of you in small gestures and physical touch rather than words

- And of course, in your art

- You bet there are songs in Dave's drawer about you

- And he can bet you've drawn him a special character for your animations, always putting extra bit of effort into his design

- Your relationship became public soon after you moved in together and the overwhelming wave of support that hit you took a load off your backs

- Of course, there was also Jaiden over there like:

- "Knew I was onto something with you two. Thank me later, lovebirds!"

- You can't even argue, you owe her A LOT

@waterlilypat @iwillboilyourteeth @insanedeathwish @onceuponadie @loraleiix @smiithys @rottenroyalebooks @goldenstarofthunderclan @cosmicstorm19 @lam-ila

#boyinaband #boyinaband fanfiction #boyinaband x y/n #boyinaband x reader #boyinaband imagine #boyinaband fluff #boyinaband fanfic #boyinaband fic #boyinaband x you #david brown #dave brown x reader #dave x reader #dave brown #jaiden animations #headcanons #reader #x reader #request

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druigswhores · 3 years

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you’re alive in my head

summary: in which natasha no longer had to live in a world without you, there you were in her arms once again. but why can’t she remember your life before westview?

content warning: natasha romanoff x fem!reader, set after endgame, angst, mentions of death, trauma, their relationship ending on a bad note, trust issues & previous steve x nat, there is some hints to homophobia in this chapter :/ (WANDAVISION SPOILERS!)

note: sorry this chapter was late!! it’s 3.3k words and i got my friend to spell check and edit it, ty ashy ily <33

REQUESTS ARE OPEN! (lmk if you want anymore content like this!)

‘моя любовь’ = ‘my love’ in russian <3

‘принцесса’ = ‘princess’ (i used google translate so idk how accurate it is

SERIES MASTERLIST

PART THREE COMING SOON

Death.

It's a complicated thing; A theory.

Nobody knows what happens to you after you die. Nobody knows what happens to your soul after you die. We make things up to make ourselves feel better, and convince ourselves that our deceased loved ones are watching over us, all the while convincing others that our loved ones are in a better place now.

But in reality, those are just dreams dying to be true.

Natasha didn't know if you were dead or alive. She just knew your body turned into particles of dust, your soul disappeared along with the rest of you. She didn't want to believe that you were truly gone, so she spoke to you.

She spoke to you, thinking you were listening to her; believing you were listening to her and that you were still around.

It was almost as if she was speaking to your ghost, the mere presence of you that remained with her, the piece of you that was a part of her. It felt wrong being in the compound without you, she felt as though she was trapped; trapped with the many reminders of how she failed you. The walls were suffocating her. Every time she thought about what had happened it felt as though the rooms were becoming smaller. The large 'A' plastered around the compound taunting her, reminding her of what they lost. Of what she lost.

So she had to get away.

Natasha found herself taking trips to the beach, the one the two of you adored oh so much. She'd walk along the sand, the harsh wind blowing against her face. The air smelled of salt, and she'd take a deep breath in with a smile. She'd reminisce all the times the two of you managed to get away from the compound, how effortlessly gorgeous you'd look with the breeze blowing through your hair, your laughter sounding like a melody that Natasha now longed to hear once more.

If she stood really still, she could, once more, feel the warmth of your fingers dragging against her skin, gently tracing shapes onto her body. Her heart would ache whenever she'd turn to the side, finding that nobody was beside her.

She had to get used to living in a world without you.

"моя любовь..." She sighed, fumbling with a stone she'd picked up, before swinging her arm and throwing it into the rippling water. The temperature was dropping. Christmas coming closer and closer every day. Natasha wrapped her coat tighter around her body, staring at the waves in front of her, observing the way they'd hit the shore before pulling back into the ocean. In the distance, she could see boats, and although they were far away, she noticed how the water carried them; the movement of the ocean pushing the boat into the direction of the wind. "No sailors.." Natasha realized, her eyes following a lifeguard boat making its way to the empty boats, likely checking for any survivors.

Yet another reminder of how the Avengers had failed.

It's only been a couple of months since the battle yet the traces of you continued to fade away. The sweater that was once yours now clung to Natasha's body as she made her way back home.

She'd do anything to bring you back. She'd do anything to have you in her arms again, complaining about something you'd undoubtedly forget hours later. She missed the way you'd never share your snacks with anyone but her. The feeling of warmth that would blossom inside her when your eyes met in a crowded room. All the times when your knee would brush against hers during a meeting. She missed the way it felt to lay next to you. She missed forgetting the world with you.

God, she missed you so much.

But there she was. In the same room as you, years later, preparing breakfast. Her hair was coiled and pinned up, keeping it in place. Her dress fit her perfectly, the skirt swaying with her movements as she elegantly makes her way across the kitchen floor. Her every movement seemed like a performance; like she was the performer and you were the audience, watching her in awe. She was captivating in every possible way, her enchanting voice pulling you in like a siren.

"Good morning, honey! I've been up all morning making us a delightful breakfast." Natasha greeted you with a kiss on the cheek, her performance almost seeming comical. "Nat... it's just peanut butter and jelly sandwiches." You pointed out, glancing over your shared kitchen, seeing the mess that was made. Somehow milk spilled all over the counters, dripping onto the ground, you immediately recognized the smell of burnt toast that hung in the air as you continued looking around.

"Peanut butter and jelly is your favourite, remember?" Natasha reminded you. Your eyes widened at the realization, thanking her. You helped her bring the food to the table, making a note to yourself to tidy up the kitchen before the dinner at Wanda and Vision's that the two of you were invited for.

But you couldn't recall Wanda telling you about the dinner?

"Are you okay, моя любовь?" She placed her hand above yours on the counter. The two of you sat in front of each other, your half-eaten breakfast resting between the two of you. "Of course, why wouldn't I be? I'm with my best girl." You smiled softly at her, and though your words said one thing, Natasha could easily recognise the distant look on your face as you stared off into space, lost in your own thoughts. "What's going on in that pretty little head of yours принцесса?" She teased, squeezing your hand gently.

"What time are we supposed to be at Wanda's?" You asked her, snapping yourself out of the trance you were in. Natasha hesitated, eyebrows furrowed as she watched your every move. Something was bothering you. "We're going to Wanda's in the evening моя любовь, she asked us a while back if we could help out before the others arrived, remember?" Natasha stated as the two of you brought your plates to the sink, beginning to tidy up.

"I'm not sure how much help you'll be sweetheart." You teased, pointing at the mess that was created due to Natasha making breakfast. She feigned hurt in response, "Oh принцесса, you're breaking my heart!" She made her way around you, passing you the cutlery as you rinsed the plates. You chuckled softly at her playful behaviour. "I think we should stick with me making us breakfast so our kitchen doesn't end up getting flooded, wouldn't you agree?" You chuckled, as you made your way around the kitchen, the two of you tidying up the mess Natasha had created.

"If only we were a robot," Natasha sighed, wrapping her arms around you from behind. You leaned back into her, embracing the warmth which radiated from her body, "or had powers." This was a position you were so very used to. "If only," she responded playfully. You turn your head back at the grinning redhead, as she leaned in for a kiss, her eyes fluttering shut as she felt your lips meet.

"You know," Natasha started, "we do have some time to spare-" you then cut her off.

"I like the way you think, sweetheart," You smiled softly, turning in her arms before making your way to your shared bedroom. Natasha followed closely behind.

The two of you were dolled up, looking your best.

Your dress ended just below your knees, the skirt extenuating your hips; it swayed with every movement you made. The short sleeves of the dress looked as though they were about to fall off your shoulders. Natasha's dress, however, was much more slim fitting and hugged her hips perfectly before flowing down, much like a waterfall, making it harder to look at anything else but her.

"Do you think Wanda will get mad at us for arriving a bit later than expected?" You asked nervously, fumbling with your fingers as the two of you made your way down the path that led to Wanda and Vision's home. Natasha shuffled around balancing the tray of pastries you'd prepared in one hand while using her free hand to rub your back gently, comforting you, "I'm sure she won't mind, моя любовь," she reassured you. As you near the house you could hear mumbling from the inside; you heard three or more different voices.

"Is that- is Vision singing?" You asked worriedly, glancing at Natasha who was mirroring your reaction. She knocked on the door, and the singing inside had abruptly stopped. "Oh, that must be our other guests," You heard Vision exclaim, "perfect timing!" You could hear his footsteps gradually get closer. The door swung open and Vision gave a nervous smile, glancing down at the tray of food Natasha was holding before letting out a sigh of relief. He hugged the both of you before welcoming you into his home. He introduced you to Mr. Hart, Visions boss, and Mrs. Hart, his wife.

"Oh hello," Mrs. Hart greeted, "no need to be so formal tonight honey." she smiled at you, pushing away the hand you had extended for her to shake. Instead, she pulled you into a tight hug which quite honestly surprised you. You awkwardly pat the older yet noteably shorter woman on the back before pulling away to quickly greet her husband. He glanced at you and Natasha in confusion, opening his mouth to say something before getting interrupted. "Oh here, let me take that, Natasha. You stay here and I'll go get a plate to put these on." You glanced at everyone in the room, offering them a smile before making your way to the kitchen, Vision stopped you before you got to the door, extending his arm out.

"Thank you," he leaned down to whisper to you. You squeezed his arm in response. You weren't used to seeing Vision in this form. He looked human. You rushed into the kitchen, startling Wanda, "I've figured you needed help." You smiled sheepishly at her, placing the tray down onto the counter, taking in all the chaos that was going on in the kitchen. It reminded you of this morning.

"Well, this isn't the first chaotic kitchen I've walked into today," you teased, reaching out for a plate before neatly plating the pastries onto it. Wanda laughed nervously in response, as she flicked through the recipe cards, searching for the right one. You walked back into the living room, placing the plate onto the coffee table prompting Vision to jump up out of his seat and offer Mr. and Mrs. Hart an appetizer. Looking to Natasha, you gave her a wink before swiftly turning around, your dress swaying with your movements as you made your way back into the kitchen, missing the frown forming on Mr. Hart's face.

"Oh, what was I supposed to do next?" Wanda began rambling, "what was the main course again?"

Making your way to the recipe cards floating in the air you attempted to help her find the card with the right recipe, steak. You could hear Vision playing a song on the ukulele while Natasha unwillingly sang alongside him.

"That's not it" You sighed, sifting through the cards, "is this one steak?"

"Steak," Wanda started, "Diane!" she accidentally yells. Her eyes widened as she realized what she'd done. She looks to you with a frown. You just barely heard Vision respond with a, "yes dear?"

"This is going terribly," Wanda frowned, leaning her head upon your shoulder. You chuckled, rubbing her back gently before pulling her away, forcing her to look at you, "Hey, you can do this, okay? You're not alone," you reassured her, attempting to raise her spirits. She sighed in relief, repeating to herself ", "I can do this, I can do this, I can do this..."

Vision barged into the kitchen unexpectedly, his nerves radiating through room. Wanda panics, accidentally using her powers to throw the lobsters out of the window.

"How can I be of assistance." Vision asks, mirroring Wanda's expression.

"Well," Wanda started, "the chicken is no longer a chicken and the lobsters just flew the coop, so the steak is the last man standing," she explains, making her way around the kitchen. You held the recipe card in your hand, skimming the instructions, "it says here you could cut down the prep time with a meat tenderiser." You recited, looking at the couple once more. "Excellent plan! Where's the tenderiser?" Vision questions, ready to help in the kitchen.

"I'm looking at him," Wanda began, holding her hand out to pass the tenderiser to Vision. You pull her hand back before Vision reaches out for it. "No. What you need to do, Vision, is go entertain your guests. Have faith in your wife and I, okay?" You pushed him out of the kitchen, before turning around and clapping your hands.

"So, where were we?" You asked, hopefully.

After a stressful couple of minutes, a brief visit from a woman with a pineapple, and Natasha almost spilling water on her dress; dinner was served.

Well technically, breakfast was served.

The six of you sat around the dining table, nervously looking around. Mr. and Mrs. Hart looked at the food in confusion, staring at the cooked bacon and eggs paired with the red wine and chocolate covered strawberries.

"Breakfast for dinner?" Mr, Hart began, with obvious judgement written all over his face. "How very-" "European." Mrs. Hart cut him off, smiling reassuringly at the two of you.

"European?" You muttered, glancing at Wanda in confusion, who then motioned her hand in a 'I'll tell you later' sort of way. "Oh, let's have a toast!" Vision began, raising his glass up. All of you followed suite as Vision continued.

"To my lovely and talented wife," he gloated, unable to take his eyes off her.

"And to our esteemed guests," Wanda added. You didn't miss the wink she threw at you and Natasha, causing the two of you to stifle your laughs. Everyone clinked their glasses together and dug into their food. It wasn't long after when the questioning began.

"So, where did you move from?" Mrs. Hart began, "what brought you here? How long have you been married? And why don't you have children yet?" She interrogated Wanda and Vision, and you glanced over at Natasha, hesitantly, who shrugged in response before continuing to eat her food. Her eyes then met Mr. Hart's, who's eyebrows were furrowed at the interaction, waiting for his wife to finish speaking so he could say something. You didn't notice Wanda struggling to answer the questions being thrown, while Vision looked at Wanda desperately waiting for an answer. It was almost as if the two of them didn't know themselves.

You also failed to notice Wanda zoning out of the conversation, staring off into the distance as Mrs. Hart continued pestering her for answers. "And what about the two of you, huh? You two roommates?" Mr. Hart questioned, noticing how closely seated you were next to Natasha.

"Something like that," Natasha responded, biting back the smirk that was fighting it's way onto her lips.

"Two lovely women such as yourselves shouldn't struggle to find a man. Why don't the two of you have husbands yet?" Mr. Hart asked, leaning forward. You felt the hair in your arms rise as you realised where the conversation was leading. Glancing at Natasha nervously, you noticed how her fingers were clenched around her cutlery.

"We just prefer each other's company," you stated simply, shoving a forkful of eggs into your mouth to distract yourself.

"What do you mean? Are you- that's unnatural!" He ranted. You ignored him, noticing that Wanda was still trying to answer questions about her and Visions marriage.

"Yes, yes, we were married in," Wanda paused, getting lost in her thoughts. Mr. Hart continued his rant to you and Natasha as You, Vision and Natasha glanced at Wanda nervously.

"You're both women! That's wrong!" Mr Hart argues.

"Well, what's your story?" Mrs. Hart questions Wanda.

Mr. Hart began shouting, slamming his fist onto the table as Mrs. Hart continued to grill Wanda for answers. Wanda snaps back into reality due to a sudden, unexpected noise. She turned to face Mr. Hart who began to choking. You stared at Natasha, frightened and unsure as of what to do in this situation.

"Oh, Arthur, stop it!" Mrs. Hart laughed. She repeated the words 'stop it' over and over again, her tone gradually becoming more panicked as her husband continued to choke. His hand rested on his throat. Vision stared at Mr. Hart in an unsure manner, his hands resting against the table almost as if the were pinned against it. You only just noticed how Mrs. Hart turned to Wanda as she continued repeating those same words.

"Stop it," she pleaded, her voice shaking as she looked at Wanda, who was staring at Mr. Hart in shock. Mr. Hart fell off his chair and onto the ground as he continued to choke. You wanted to rush over and help him but it felt as though your hands were bound to the table and you couldn't move your legs. You were only able to watch as the man continued to choke while his wife chuckled.

"Stop it."

"Vision, help him," Wanda demanded. Vision rushed out of his seat and next to Mr. Hart, phasing his hand through his throat and removing a whole chocolate covered strawberry.

When did Mr. Hart pick up the strawberry? You thought to yourself.

"Let me help you up," Vision offers, helping Mr. Hart back to his feet. The atmosphere in the room had immediately changed, going back to exactly how it was before. It was almost as if a switch had been flipped and everyone forgot what was happening.

"Would you look at the time!" Mr. Hart exclaimed making his way to the door as his wife followed behind him.

"Well," Wanda started, "are you both alright?" she questioned nervously, as she stood up. "Yes, we better be going. We had such a lovely time!" Mrs. Hart reassured. The couple left the house very abruptly, mentioning something about a promotion before exiting the front door.

"Oh, we must be going as well!" Natasha exclaims, pushing herself up out of her seat before saying goodbye to the two. She hugged them both before making her way out of the door. You hugged Vision and thanked him for having you over before making your way to Wanda.

"Tonight was wonderful, Wanda," you reassured, pulling her into a hug. You felt her shoulders slacken in your arms, sighing softly as she returned your embrace before pulling away from you, her arms resting on your shoulders.

"Thank you, thank you for everything."

As the two of you made your way home, you couldn't help but let Mr. Hart's words play on repeat in your mind. You could tell Natasha knew what was bugging you as she squeezed your hand gently. The two of you continued to hold hands as you made your way home.

"I know we can't get married," you started, as you stood in your living room, staring at the woman who made you feel most at home. She nodded, waiting for you to continue as she rested her hand against your cheek, allowing her thumb to gently stroke your face.

"But I just want you to know that I'm here for you. For better or for worse. I never want to be apart from you," you chuckled softly, staring at her in awe, allowing your eyes to glance at her lips before you looked back into her eyes.

"I know, моя любовь. And I'd do anything for you," Natasha began.

"Even die for you."

natasha romanoff taglist: @blackxwidowsxwife @severepeanutartisanhands @madamevirgo @starsvck @umsolikeblog @baddecisions-png @yourmcu

all works: @teenwonder @amourtentiaa @husherstan @peggycarter-steverogers

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true-lower-decker-blog-2 · 3 years

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Quick Analysis of the S2 Trailer

1. The Space Probe that the gang are one looks identical to the space probe that the Enterprise-D found in the TNG episode ‘The Neutral Zone’.

2. The Green Alien we see is actually an Alien from the Animated Series, called the Pandronians. They showed up in the TAS episode ‘Bem’. In the same scene, you can see the crew and weirdly, even Shax. He might be back.

3. In this scene and many others, is looks like Boimler is back on the Cerritos as an Ensign. He might just be undercover from the Titan or actually managed to bust himself back down.

4. Freecloud from Picard has been visited again by Lower Decks. We can see Tendi and Mariner running through the same street we saw Rios beam onto in Picard. And on the side, we can see Quark’s Franchise Bar on the left and a Caitian on the right.

5. The new Security Chief is Kaishan who is a Tamarian, a legend of a species from a well known episode of TNG, ‘Darmok’. Tamarians speak by giving example, as in metaphors or memes. In Comic-con, though, Mike McMahan mentioned that he does speak a little English, once in a while.

Also, he is wearing a drape which is similar to TNG S1 Worf.

6. I think that when he says, ‘Rapunki, when he joins the Seven’ it might be a reference to ‘The Seven’ in Jack Quaid’s ‘The Boys’.

Also, we can see that Dr. Migleemo is back on the Bridge. Paul. F. Thompkins, who plays the counselor, is also a friend of Tawny Newsome. They host the Official Star Trek Podcast ‘The Pod Directive’ together and in that podcast, he has mentioned before that he is coming back.

7. The moment when Mariner says, ‘Computer: RAMMING SPEED!’ is a direct reference to Worf in Star Trek: First Contact. Also, in the background, in that crate is some object that shows up in another scene in the Trailer which I will point out later.

8. Rutherford, who’s clearly lost his memory, is covered in what looks like Neurocortical Stimulators from the Voyager Era. Also, sadly, in the background, we can see the remains of the Sequoia.

Well, the Sequoia has been damaged all of S1 in the background so... Flashback?

9. This looks like another scene where Mariner is trying to escape the ‘Four Lights’ Oscar-worthy room while dealing with a Female Cardassian.

10. We see another scene of the USS Macduff that we saw in the First Teaser back in April. It looks to be in Debris, being chased by 3 unknown vessels which weirdly, reminded me of the Pakled tiny ships.

11. Aye, the Dad-miral is back! Freeman is already Captain and he wouldn’t be talking to random people so he’s probably asking Mariner to get promoted.

12. This isn’t an Easter egg but I just thought it was funny. On the wall of the Brig, Mariner has scribbled up a castle and written, ‘Mariner’s HQ’ with 2 ticks.

13. When Boimler is phasing through, we get a glimpse at the Titan’s Transporter room and it looks nearly identical to the Transporter of the Enterprise-E.

14. In the background when the gang beam down to some sort of Museum, we can see the Picture that Picard tried to paint of a nude lady in the TNG episode ‘A matter of Perspective’.

15. In the same scene, there are many more Easter eggs like-

- A Bat’leth

- Mek’leth

- Andorian Ice mining tool/ Ushantar

- Jem Hadar Cartican Sword

- Vulcan Lerpa

- The Fin of a Catan Probe from ‘The Inner Light’ sticking out.

16. After analyzing what Jett was holding in his hand, I realized that it looked like a Doll of Lt. Kaishan? Look for yourself, it’s him.

17. In this scene, we can see the object that I mentioned before, in Tendi’s hand. Also, the aliens that Mariner flings Latinum at are Nausicans.

18. Just when Tendi was being swallowed, in the background was a broken Glass container. When Tendi says, ‘Don’t touch me’ you can see more containers with different things in the background just behind Mariner. One even looks like a piece of that Orange Alien Blob.

19. When Mariner and Tendi run away, we get a good look at a Dom Jot Table which looks identical to the one seen in the TNG episode, ‘Tapestry’.

20. Jeffery Combs, a well-known Trek background actor, does a cameo as the Evil Robot that’s asking Mariner to lose a couple pounds. You may remember him as Shran from ENT.

21. This is just another funny catch. When Tendi and Rutherford are building the Cerritos model, you cans see the little plastic nets that are used to hold on the ship pieces which is used a lot here now. That’s just a quirky attention to detail that I love.

(FUN FACT- Did you know that the OG Borg cube that we see was mad up of those plastic nets.)

22. Robert Duncan McNeil is back as a... Plate? Well, he’s still back, yay.

They’re actually selling that plate irl on Startrek.com which is a callback to the Janeway Voyager Commemorative plate.

23. Borg Boimler! Boimler Borg! Boimler of Borg! Borgmler?

Jokes aside, ‘Borgmler’ is recreating that moment with Locutus of Borg in TNG ‘Best of Both Worlds’.

24. That Crystalline entity is back too.

25. In the cage of the Ferengi vessel, we can see a Mugatu, which was seen in the teaser back in August.

26. As seen, Boimler and Mariner are wearing what looks to be an updated version of the Insurrection Dress uniforms.

27. One of the Security officers that’s dragging Mariner away is an Antaran.

That’s it.

Tell me if you found any more.

#star trek #star trek lower decks #lower decks

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messedupfan · 3 years

Text

Infinity & Beyond (Wanda Maximoff x Reader) Chapter 4

Summary: This chapter focuses on the journey of the reader during the five years without Wanda.

A/N: Thank you for the likes and reblogs! Hope that you are all enjoying the story.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You wake up a few months later in the Avengers compound once again. This time with your memories intact and feeling unbelievably disappointed. “She found him,” you find yourself saying to whoever was in the room as you involuntarily sit up on the bed. The nurse brushes it off as some weird superhero thing and not something to address. But then you repeat yourself again and again until she alerts Bruce who grabs the attention of the other remaining Avengers.

"What do you think she means?" Natasha questions as you make the statement again.

"Maybe she's talking about Wanda and Vision?" Steve chimes in with a concerned look on his face and his arms crossed over his chest.

"Why would she be talking about Wanda and Vision? Vision was an advanced robot with a stone in his head, he had no soul for Wanda to find. If any of that exists," Bruce points out.

"I don't know then," Steve shrugs. Then you repeat the phrase again. "Maybe it's Wanda and her brother? I don't know, maybe we're too focused on the cloudy eyes thing. We could be thinking about this too hard."

Then Rhodey comes into the room to inform the members that the radar has picked up a signal of an unidentified flying object. He thinks that Carol might be back. "Just say UFO," Natasha rolls her eyes as she follows the guys out of the building. On their way out she spots a worried Pepper Pots and quirks her lips into a reassuring smile. "I think she found him," she says to the woman and leads her to the landing zone of the compound. It's only then that Natasha realizes what you meant. Sure enough, a woman is carrying a ship into the landing zone with Tony Stark and someone named Nebula. Pepper wraps her arms around Tony in tears and relief. He is quickly brought to the medical wing where you remain. Somehow having watched the whole thing from your bed.

When you come out of it the nurse informs you that your eyes had gone cloudy for a moment and you had predicted the return of your father. "He isn't my father," you grouched. Huh, must be another ability, you think to yourself.

Later, after passing a few diagnostic exams with flying colors, you are discharged from your hospital room and are eating across from a very serious Thor as people argue and yell at each other. It was weird to eat actual food. Thor was almost amused watching you figure out how to hold your sandwich.

Tony is then rolled into the room with a furious energy. You can tell that he is really hurting from this loss, that he is frustrated and you can even feel betrayal radiating off of him somehow. Of course, it's not until he's shouting at the Captain that you realize you are feeling his emotions. You were feeling everyone's defeated emotions and it was beginning to suffocate you. As you try to distract yourself with the food, your mind wanders to how overwhelmed Wanda must've felt being able to read people's minds. That leads to the memory of Wanda slipping from you and it's almost too much to handle. You toss the plate in front of you, disrupting the ongoing argument. You’re squeezing your skull as the tears come and you scream for it all to stop. Natasha and Steve fall to your side as they do their best to calm you down. Once the memory leaves you and you've settled, everyone in the room gets serious about finding Thanos.

Nebula is useful as she provides the only lead to finding Thanos and you join them on the spaceship, brushing off everyone's concerns. The talking racoon asks how many of you haven’t been to space before, you raise your hand among the others which seems to be enough to make him laugh. You don't understand why until the ship rushes off to space.

Arriving just outside the planet, a floating woman you hadn't been introduced to yet appears at the front window and is surprised to report that the planet is just Thanos. Along with everyone else, you are heart broken to find out that he had destroyed the stones. You feel for Thor when he says he went for the head and shed another tear for the woman that Thanos had taken from you. It feels like you just lost her all over again.

The first year is the longest. The days feel never ending and drag on. Most nights were spent jolting out of bed in a cold sweat as you're being haunted by memories. It often felt like you were back in the hands of Hydra being electrocuted and injected, spoken to in a language you didn't know, probably German. Everything that was done to you in the time you were captured, everything that your mind had originally suppressed, was attacking you each night. Going through it alone made you miss Wanda even more. So once you could remind yourself that you were safe, you had also been reminded that you were alone. Lots of tears were shed in the night.

After Tony built up enough strength to leave the compound he did but he never stayed gone long. He would return often to attempt to build a relationship with you. It wasn’t easy trying to let him in, the lack of sleep being no help, so you didn’t. Your resistance never stopped him from making the effort to get to know you. Now that he knew you existed, he wanted to be part of your life. Tony knew that you needed family and he was all you had left, even if you didn't want to accept it. He promised to never abandon you ever again.

That didn’t mean he stopped living his life. Within a few months of his recovery, Tony invited you to his surprisingly low-key wedding which you begrudgingly attended with Natasha and Steve. They had been helping you out a lot with coping and figuring out whether or not you wanted Tony in your life. Steve often joked about fighting him again to get him to back off, but you never took the offer. You did your best to enjoy yourself at the wedding but it only reminded you of what you couldn’t have.

You smiled your way through the night as you thought about Wanda.

Her smile, the dress she would’ve worn, her laugh, that look in her eyes that is so full of love and only reserved for you. Your mind went even further back to a time when Pietro was alive and how they would’ve danced together and how happy he would have been for the two of you. You even imagine the wide grin he would have walking Wanda down the aisle and the single tear he would shed. Once he found that ring of yours he was constantly harassing you about when and how you were going to ask his twin. Even giving unwanted advice and ideas. It was all so consuming. That night you fell asleep crying in Natasha’s arms.

Months later, while Tony was visiting you he included you in on a secret. Pepper was pregnant. You didn’t exactly give the most joyous reaction but you were happy for him and Pepper. “When she’s born, promise me you won’t come back here,” you find yourself saying.

“Well I don’t know if she’s a girl yet but… why don’t you want me to come around here?” Tony asks as he returns the ultrasound image to his pocket.

“I want the three of you to be happy. I don’t want you to worry about me. Besides, I’m thinking of asking Nat to start assigning me to missions. I probably won’t be around as much and I really just need to get my mind off of the things I lost and the things I can’t have.” You keep your eyes on the promise ring Wanda had given you on your first anniversary. “But I want you and Pepper to be happy. Enjoy your life Tony. You don’t need to make things right with me to do that.” Tony disagrees but hugs you as he says his goodbyes and you find Natasha for your first assignment.

You are there for the birth of Morgan Stark. You forge her a special necklace from your powers and smile at the little bundle of joy. “Congrats you guys, she is so precious,” you say as you hold the baby.

“Thank you, Y/N,” Pepper says with hooded eyes and a tired smile. You hand the baby back to Tony and leave before thoughts of Wanda could invade and cloud your head. She always wanted a family. She used to fantasize about the kinds of parents the two of you would be. The types of kids you guys would raise. Baby names… Being away allowed you to forget her. But moments like these threatened to tear you down.

More years pass and Natasha is forced to ground you from missions because you have become too mentally unstable and a major liability. Steve drags you to his group therapy sessions but you hardly pay attention or contribute. You just miss Wanda and you allow yourself to feel that pain because running from it has only made it grow. For the most part you spent your time sitting in meetings with Steve or Nat. You preferred being in Natasha’s meetings since they were about mission updates and strategy and not about people crying over first dates. Shortly after that particular meeting Steve began to hint that maybe you should give it a try, you shut him down and turned it around on him. He quickly dropped the subject.

Among that daily schedule you would end your nights curled up on your bed in the room Wanda stayed in while she was waiting for you to come back to her. You would hold some clothes that still smelled like her to your nose as you listened to sad songs. For a while you’re stuck listening to Little Talks wondering if her spirit was lying by your side trying to reach out to you. Some of the things you felt were too painful to keep around and you had them stored at a special place far enough from here. One of them being the old computer. Well, they had been stored away for you but sometimes you convinced yourself that you made the call on your own. Not that Natasha arranged a team to steal most of your belongings.

Tony was generous enough to copy every video and photo file from the computer and put them into your phone. They helped you go to sleep at night.

Then one day, a man you swore had to have been on the vanished list that Nat viewed often, appears at the gate. “Is this old?” Steve asks.

“This is live,” Natasha says. They let him in and the three of you stand around as he explains how he can help. You, Nat, and Steve are skeptical but not so much that you guys don’t have hope it won’t work. Immediately you guys are on the road to find Tony Stark.

Over the years you tried to visit between missions, when you could. Not for Tony but for Morgan. You couldn’t help but fall for the little girl, she was your sister and you wanted to be the best big sister you could be for her. You also wanted to make sure she knew how many people cared for her and that she would always be safe and protected. Natasha was also captivated by her and would sometimes join you on the visits. You girls would play once she was able to run around and you even showed her some of your powers. During this time you finally allowed Tony in and even established a healthy relationship with him and Pepper because whether or not you wanted to accept it, they were your family.

When you arrive at the cabin, Morgan jumps out of Tony’s arms and runs into yours. “Y/N/N!” She shouts happily. You greet her with just as much energy and take her into the house to let them do the talking.

Pepper prepares some drinks and has you take them out to everyone. You re-enter the kitchen to help her with lunch. “Why aren’t you out there with the rest of them?” Pepper asks conversationally.

“Because my powers are connected to my emotions and if your husband says no… I might accidentally blow him into bits and pieces,” you sigh.

Despite herself, Pepper laughs a little. “You know,” she starts. “If you called him dad, he won’t have any other choice than to say yes.”

You shake your head, not this again. “Not going to happen.” Tony hasn’t directly asked you to say it but Pepper has and she keeps bringing up how much it would mean to him to hear you say it. “Besides with what we’re trying to do there’s a chance that he might lose all of this. I’m not even sure if I want him to say yes.” Your gaze lands on Morgan playing with her toys. Pepper follows your gaze and smiles softly.

“Hey Morgan, sweetie?” Pepper calls attention to her daughter who curiously looks up at her mother. “You should go out there and rescue daddy,” Pepper says. The little girl's face lights up as she stands to run to the front door. “Knowing Tony, he will find a way to protect everything he loves and save the world. Even if it kills him,” there is something in the way she says those words that causes the two of you to share a look. A hopeful let’s hope it doesn’t come down to that.

She then gives you a hug and tells you to stop by more often, she wishes you luck, and you leave the warmth of the home to the frowns of your rejected friends. You don’t look at Tony when you bid him goodbye.

Next you find yourself in Bruce’s diner and watch as Scott Lang fails to be recognized as Ant-Man by some kids. Bruce is willing to give the time travel a try and on the day the test run is done, you begin to lose hope again. You eat your taco near a window as you observe Scott set up in the landing zone. You laugh when Nebula and Rocket arrive blowing away his food. You almost can’t believe that is the guy who had access to the closest thing they had to a time machine. Steve walks in smiling at your laugh, you don’t do that often, with Tony barking orders behind him. People get to work on the machine and that pesky flicker of hope is restored.

As you work on things Tony is by your side teaching you about every part you are using and putting together. You just let him rattle on and on as you let yourself fantasize about holding Wanda in your arms again. Before you know it they are doing the first test run with Clint Barton. He disappears and instantly reappears with a baseball glove and a stunned expression. “It works,” he says and that feeling of hope causes your heart to pound in your chest. You are going to see her again. Now to find out when to travel to.

“See you in a minute,” Nat says with contained excitement. She is just as excited to complete this mission as you are. After a lot of thinking and planning they separated into three teams of people. Tony, Steve, Bruce, and Scott leave to 2012 to retrieve the tesseract, scepter, and the time stone. Nat, Clint, Nebula, and Rhodey vanish to 2014 to grab the power stone and the soul stone. The last team is just Thor and Rocket to grab the reality stone that is apparently inside of Thor’s former girlfriend. Tony, Steve, and Nat wouldn’t let you go on the mission because they still think you’re a liability. You argue that Thor isn’t exactly the picture of mental stability but they point out that Thor is the only one on their team that knows Asgard and where that stone is.

So you sit and pout in a chair for the quick minute that everyone is gone. Part of what has you so pissed off is that you didn’t get to experience time traveling. All because of a few bad missions. You watch them disappear and stare at the platform but time seems to drag on and you look down at your phone with a sigh. In that second everyone has returned with their stones and your heart drops. You notice one person missing and frown. “Where’s Nat?” You ask. Clint wears a broken expression and takes a breath before explaining how he received the stone. “Oh,” is all you can come up with.

Clint felt that it should’ve been him and you didn’t disagree but you understood why Natasha sacrificed herself. She confided in you a few times about how she felt like a monster because of what she was forced to do when she was being raised in the Red Room. She even talked about the mandatory hysterectomy and hated that she could never carry kids of her own. You did your best to try and cheer her up by telling her that adoption was always an option. “No agency is going to allow a former assassin to adopt a kid. Trust me… I tried.” She then boasted about Clint and his family, she loved them as if they were her own family. “I’ll deny it if you tell anyone but I cried like a baby the first time his daughter called me aunty Nat,” she got teary eyed and you passed her another shot of vodka.

Natasha missed them so much and you knew she would sacrifice herself to get them back. She wouldn’t have been able to live with herself if his family came back and she had to inform them that he died to save her. She probably would have felt like a bigger monster than she already thought she was. You stood up and left the room to collect yourself and get as far away from everyone’s grief as possible. Natasha had easily become your best friend these past few years. In the past year that you’ve been stuck at the compound there were days when it felt like all you had was each other. You can’t believe she’s gone but you have to hope that there is still a way to bring her back.

Banner finds you later and makes you some food and Rocket sits with you and the rest of the guys sit by the dock to talk. You force the comfort food down despite feeling too sad to eat and notice Nebula walking back into the time machine area. They call you into another room where they’re going to put the stones together but you ignore them and follow Nebula. They let you go, assuming that you’re still upset about losing Natasha. The first time you went on an actual mission with Nebula, you were put off with how serious she was so you came up with random nicknames to call her. She was annoyed initially but eventually she mentioned how funny she thought it was. Her tone had remained emotionless as she told you that and you had to refrain from laughing because it felt rude to do so as she was opening up. Nebula was still a very serious person to be around but she loosened up a bit around you, even called you her friend.

“Hey Neb-Neb!” You called out after her but she ignored you. “Bu-Bu! Hello?” You followed her to the control panel, “Nella, what’s going on with yo–” she cuts you off by wrapping her hand around your throat and speaking to you through gritted teeth. There was definitely something off about Nebula but you couldn’t quite figure it out. So you fought back because you weren’t fighting your friend, you were fighting a stranger. The two of you go hand in hand until she slips out of your hold and goes back to the control panel. You move to stop her but are too late. Next thing you know, you are waking up in rubble.

With a groan you sit up and dust yourself off then quickly panic, you don’t even know if they had time to do the reverse snap. You crawl your way out of the rubble and find Steve, Tony, and Thor speaking in hushed tones. “Did you guys do the snap? What happened?” You ask frantically, you need to know that you’ll be seeing Wanda again. Losing her a third time was simply not an option. Then you see a very alive Thanos just sitting there. That’s when it connects in your head. It was a different Nebula and she was getting a past version of Thanos into this present. “Please tell me you guys did the snap,” you look at Tony and he nods. But the look on everyone's faces told you that they didn’t know if it worked.

You join them as they attack Thanos but he is powerful and not easy to bring down. You’re tossed into another pile of rubble and shake your head, annoyed with yourself because you felt useless. Your powers were failing you and you couldn’t fathom as to why. Out of nowhere you see portals open up one by one, the people that had vanished and the people that hadn’t stepped through each portal. Then an enormous Ant-Man emerges from the ground and drops off a few more people that must’ve been trapped from the destruction of the compound. You gather with the rest of them and really focus to activate your powers as Steve grabs Mjolnir and shouts, “Avengers… Assemble!” Despite the unsuccessful attempt, you still charge along with the rest of them to fight against Thanos’ army.

Without seeing her, you could just sense that Wanda is among the rest and as much as you want a reunion, saving the world takes precedence at the moment. You could practically hear her telling you to go be a hero anyway. As you fight against Thanos’ army, using the hand to hand combat skills Natasha and Steve taught you, a part of you is still distracted and searches for Wanda. Regardless of where you want your focus at the moment. You make your way around the battlefield hoping to knock into her or something so that you don't get yourself killed trying to find her. Then you hear her.

“You took everything from me,” her tone is heavy and her eyes are glowing. You come to the conclusion that she must not know whether or not you are alive. So you don’t let her know and wait to find out what she does.

“I don’t even know who you are,” Thanos responds, angered by the woman's threatening glare.

“You will,” she says before she starts attacking him with her powers. Discreetly killing off a large gathering of Outriders hurtling towards you, you watch Wanda as she comes very close to killing Thanos herself. He calls for the ships to rain fire on everyone and that’s when you finally make yourself present to her. You jump from your spot and land right beside her and create a force field to protect the both of you. Other members are being protected by the sorcerers and it isn’t until Captain Marvel comes flying through that the bullets stop coming down and people are trying to get the gauntlet out of there. You turn towards Wanda and feel her mixed emotions, you wink at her with a smile as you let the barrier go.

“It’s time to be a hero right now, love. We can say hello later,” you tell her before you go back into the fight, the adrenaline rushing through you as your powers have finally activated. Each member does their best to keep the gauntlet out of Thanos’ reach but sadly no one succeeds and he holds the extreme amount of power once again. Carol fights him with as much power as she has to keep him from snapping his fingers but eventually gets tossed aside. You step up next using everything that you have inside of you, using abilities you had no idea you even possessed. But in the end you are tossed onto a metal rod that had been protruding out from the destroyed building. It had stabbed you through your side making it difficult to breathe. As you fight for air you look around to watch Thanos and his army disappear. Tony collapses beside you. “No,” you cough out weakly. You reach out for him and luckily he was close enough for you to touch his shoulder. “Tony,” you gasp as the tears sting your eyes. His eyes follow the sound but you can tell that he’s not actually looking at you.

“Mr. Stark, we won. Mr. Stark,” Peter says as he tries to grab Tony’s attention. Rhodey lands beside his best friend with understanding and sadness in his eyes. Yours tighten shut for a moment as your tears start to fall. You want to wake up from this horrible nightmare but this is reality, a piece of you knew that you couldn’t avoid. Then Pepper arrives and pulls the boy in the spider suit away from her husband. You look up and see that he has finally returned somewhat enough to recognize his wife.

She tells him that he can rest now, then she looks over to you so that you know that now is the time to say something so you don’t regret it later. With a weak grip on his shoulder you nudge him to return his attention to you. It looks like he’s trying to smile at you but is obviously far too weak to do as such. You offer him the best one that you could muster in your current state. “I love you, dad. It’s okay, we’ll be okay,” your hand lands in his and he gives it the lightest squeeze before it falls limp.

Wanda makes her way over to you and panics at the amount of blood you’ve lost but at the moment you don’t feel anything. Not even the pain of losing your father. You just feel… numb. It dawns on you that your body must be failing but that doesn’t scare you. She takes your hand as your loud thoughts of just letting go enter her mind. “No,” she starts through frustrated teeth. “You can’t leave, Y/N. Please, keep fighting. This can’t be our ending. I need you, please don’t leave me,” she sounds so broken but equally determined to keep you alive. As you hold her gaze she lets out a broken sob and tenderly whispers, “I love you to infinity.” She continues to beg, depositing small kisses to the back of your hand. As her words sink in, you find the strength that you need to fight off the thoughts of letting go. Then, with your heightened vision, you look around and find every remaining Avenger kneeling out of respect for your father and you have the urge to join them. You struggle to get up from your position, Pepper and Wanda try to stop you from moving but all rational thought has left you.

“I’m not dying right here,” you grumble as you reach behind you and cut the rod. You shift your position and Pepper sprays your wound to close it around the remaining bits of the rod that was still in you so that the bleeding would stop until you could get it properly treated. Then you kneel for your father to show your respect for him in his death that you failed to show while he was alive. You think about how grateful you were for the last five years and how much you appreciated that he never gave up on you. You silently thank him just as the adrenaline leaves your body and it succumbs to the full extent of your injuries causing you to collapse and pass out.

Chapter 5

#wanda maximoff imagine #wanda marvel #wanda x fem!reader #wanda x you #the scarlet witch #wanda mcu #wanda x y/n #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff #fanfic fanfiction #fanfic #mcu #marvel

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mcfreakin-bxtch · 4 years

Note

Hello! I hope you're doing okay over there. Are your requests open? If so, could you do a Din x reader with the reader sketching him (the child and their special moments together) when she thinks he isn't looking, but one day he finds the sketchbook? If they're closed just ignore the request but hold on tight to the wishes of good furtune and health ♥ Stay safe!

I’m hanging in there sweet anon and I hope you’re doing okay too (okay but this is so cute omg).

Warnings: It’s really just two dorks and good ole fluff. Some of this is unedited as well

*Reminder that the forum for my taglist is still up and pinned!

__________________________________________

If he would turn slightly to the left, you’d be able to get the perfect angle you need to finish the sketch.

The helmet reflects the glare of the stars, illuminating a bright shine around the top of the beskar and stinging your eyes just a little when you look up at it. You can’t help but do it anyway. The Child is asleep, a day of actually getting to use those little feet of his wore him out - you love the little one, but you and Din have exhausted yourselves keeping up with finding him his home and protecting him at the same time; this peace and quiet right now is highly overdue.

The pencil glides easily against the paper, connecting every line to another, creating another favorite of yours; the perfect piece of art that’s sitting in front of you, unaware of the stacks of sketches that you’ve drawn silently in the whatever corner you can lurk in. To be honest, with as attentive as he is, you’re surprised he hasn’t caught on to you yet.

You’re so lost in finishing the shades that you don’t notice the Mandalorian turning slightly towards you in his seat. He watches your brows furrow in deep concentration, the light scratching in the air a comfort to him since the months of hearing it. He’s never actually seen any of your drawings, however, and he knows that one day the curiosity will get the better of him and he’ll ask... eventually.

Truth is he’s not all the sure on why he hasn’t asked you yet, despite the growing and gnawing interest with teeth that grows sharper and longer as more time goes on. And it’s not like you’ve ever brought it up, either. It’s been this unspoken thing between the two of you - a dance that’s familiar in any language; of scared love and child-like curiosity that seeps into something deeper.

That’s exactly what he’s afraid of.

It’s in this moment of sensing a pair of eyes on you - the pair of eyes you can’t see, but imagine they must be green, or brown more than anything. For a moment, you’re almost afraid to find out.

With a small intake of air you will your head to tilt up. The visor spins away so quick that it’s almost comical, and you bite your lip to suppress the giggle bubbling in your chest.

“Din,” you call his name teasingly. “Is there something you wanted?”

It’s almost too hard to hide the laughter when his helmet jolts towards you, like he’s surprised that you called him out on it.

“I -” You think you hear a gulp through the statics of the vocoder. “- I was... I was just wondering what you were drawing. I’m sorry if that makes you uncomfortable.”

Your heart skips a beat at the sincerity of his apology, and the fact that he was watching you, which has you wondering if this is a reoccurrence you’ve been blind to this entire time.

“It doesn’t,” you voice croaks. “It’s-it’s nothing really. Just the ship, whatever I see throughout the day.” You sit up, still clutching the book to your chest. “I’m going to check on the kid. Call for me if you need anything.”

When the hell did the air get so thick like this? You feel bad, so bad, and a part of you wants to desperately show him this simple thing that he just wants to look at, but... but he’ll know. One look and he’ll know.

“Okay,” the modulator cracks - you wonder what it’s masking right now, what you can’t hear through the robotic statics. “You can rest too while you’re at it. I’ll wake you when it’s time.”

You nod and awkwardly wave your departure, climbing down on wobbly legs to the hull and the cot the Child is asleep on; you’re relieved to see that he’s still bundled in his blanket, a peaceful expression gracing his features.

It’s here you feel the fatigue settling on your shoulders. The dull beating You sigh and settle inside the small space, careful of your weight and making yourself as comfortable as you can get. With the book and pencil still in hand, you decide to finish the little details of his belt.

***

Mando sighs as thoughts of you plague his mind once more.

That, and the fact that he needs to sleep at least an hour before the landing at the next destination.

He keens his ears for any sings of movements down in the hull, but when he hears nothing he climbs down to ladder in quiet, graceful strokes.

The dim light does absolute injustice to your features in his opinion. It’s the first thing he notices, not the Child is gurgling over your open sketchbook that’s sprawled out on your lap as you sleep.

“Kriff,” he curses under his breath and rushes as quietly as he can towards the bunk. He tries to keep his eyes averted of the drawings, but he can’t help it, especially when the Child pouts and slaps against the page when his hand clasps around it.

It’s... well, it’s him. He’s leaning against the wall of what he can tell is the Razor Crest based off the small details you made sure to put in - he really admires that. Down at his feet is the little one, grinning up at him. Beneath the helmet that’s shielded him from the rest of the world for almost all his life, he smiles back; orange caresses the rough paper, imagining that he can actually feel it through the lead and gloves.

The next page is of a planet he cannot name off the top of his head, but he can’t shake the feeling that it’s of home.

Each page is filled with memories; past and present etched and filled with the kind of skill and warmth that can never be replaced; promises of mystery tied in like a piece of string. Most of them towards the end are of him and the Child. Small moments, mostly, like when he fell asleep with the kid secured to his armored-less chest, and moments when it’s him, sitting in the pilot’s seat or his cape flowing behind him as he walks away to a new bounty or clue to the Child’s powers.

He recognizes them with a deep fondness that makes his head swirl with all types of emotions. Din knows what they mean, but it’s the fear. Yet each drawing - he’s on the one from hours ago - scolds each inch of doubt within him, and in this he finds a type of bravery he’s hasn’t faced much before; it makes it more terrifying to him.

“I like to draw what makes me happy.”

Your voice startles him from his thoughts. He’s never frozen up like this before - at least long ago - but now it feels like your stare alone is the only thing keeping him grounded to this spot. The doe like expression on your face the guilt that started to creep within his chest dissipates.

“I’m sorry,” he says, because he still feels that he needs to apologize. “The kid had it and I... he likes the one where he found that flower.”

You smile widely at that, looking down at the child in question as you sit up. Din silently watches you climb out from the bunk and takes a few steps back to let you lean against the cold interior.

“That’s one of my favorites, too,” you say; proudly, Din thinks. “And the one where you fell asleep in the pilot’s chair... you were so tired that day and I kept trying to get you to rest and let me take over, but you can be so stubborn sometimes, you know that?”

His chuckle radiates the room, and fuck it, it could radiate the entire galaxy. Yours join in with ease, but it quickly dies down, though not awkwardly or uncomfortably; it feels natural among the countless other laughs you’ve shared over the years.

“I um - “ you clear your throat nervously, battling with the endless fluttering of butterflies in your stomach and the shakiness in your voice. “- I guess this is a good time to say that I really like you, Din. And I’ve been drawing these sketches of as many of these moments as I can because they’re so precious to me.” You take a deep breath. “Just like the Child is. Just like you are.”

You finish with a light scoff. It’s quiet, you have to pee, and you hope to the Maker above that this isn’t how your journey with Din ends; you should really open your eyes and at least do something if he’s just going to keep standing there.

“I like you, too.”

Your eyes nearly pop out of their sockets when those words reach your ears. It feels like your heart just stopped beating, your body frozen, and your thoughts bouncing wildly around like a blaster; that crackled laugh (that you know somehow is soft) brings you back to your body, back to the man standing closer to you know and slowly reaching his hand out.

You glance at it before tracing your eyes over the worn out boots that’s seen better days, the scratched and scraped armor that you have shared more than enough time cleaning and polishing, the signet that the Mandalorian never fails to honor proudly, even in his own quiet ways; and now the helmet, the t-shaped visor that shields him.

In this you find no fear. The weight of his hand in yours settles you and the soft link of his pinky with yours brings a stinging to your eyes.

“I can’t do this alone,” he says. “And I want this to work. The Creed -”

“I know,” you interject quietly. “It’s not always going to be easy. But we got this, just like always, don’t we?”

“At least one of us has to.”

His heart warms when the loudest snort he’s ever heard you make jolts the Child from his sleep, blinking those big eyes wearily as your muffled laugher continues against your fingers. “You should get some sleep now,” you tell him. “I got this one.”

It feels very natural to lean down and pick the Child up and smile at Din with assurance; he feels the air in his lungs draw out of him until he literally starts to feel breathless, and his lips stretch in a smile - it’s small and shy; hopeful.

After he makes sure that the hull is closed off and lays his helmet by the plates of his armor (one of the rare times he actually can), settling onto the unforgiving but familiar cot, he imagines you’ll make a fuss about the scar on his nose with a pencil and book in your hands.

Tags: @talesfromtheguild, @absurdthirst, @chews-erotically, @hiwelcometochillys, @legally-a-bastard, @bluengrayfox, @pascaliprincess, @oloreaa, @thisis-theway, @jaynoellef, @ben-is-a-hoe, @hayley-the-comet, @pascalisthepunkest, @kenedyybrooklin, @garrshep, @paintmekala, @marian, @fit-fierce-gamer, @altersw, @hoodedbirdie

#this was so sweet i can't #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #fanfic #request #pedro pascal #anon #i have a little cold and finished this a little loopy *jazz music plays in the background*#din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you

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just-dreaming-marvel · 3 years

Text

Out Of Time ~ 107

MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 4,300ish

Summary: The team figures out the monolith and tries to save Simmons

“Do something!”

“Fitz,” Y/N got up and hurried to him. She was afraid to portal, scared of what the monolith might do. “Come on.” She grabbed his arm but he tore it away. “We have to get out of here!”

“Leave me alone!”

He turned and decked Y/N in the face, causing her to tumble down the steps and to the ground. Y/N gently touched her face, pulling her hand back to see blood.

“Fitz! Y/N!” Mack shouted, rushing to grab Fitz from the container.

“Fitz, get out of there!” Hunter yelled, getting the door.

“Are you crazy?”

“Close it!” Bobbi yelled. “Close it!”

“Y/N!” Daisy rushed over. “Oh my gosh, you’re bleeding.”

As soon as Bobbi and Hunter closed the container, the monolith turned into liquid. Everyone was panting.

“Damn it, Fitz,” Coulson murmured, coming into the room.

“I had to know,” Fitz panted. “Had to— had to know—“

“I already lost Simmons to that thing. I cannot afford to lose you or Y/N, too.”

“Trying to get yourself killed?” Hunter wondered.

“Sorry,” Fitz said. “I won’t give up. I can’t give up.”

“None of us want to, Fitz, but…” Daisy tried to say.

“Fitz,” Bobbi knelt down in front of him, “you tried. Okay? You tried your hardest. Everybody knows that.”

“No,” he shook his head. “I missed something. I m… I missed something.” He wiped something off his face.

“What is that?”

“Proof.” Fitz got up and ran to the lab.

“Y/N,” Coulson said, the others turning to face her. She was still on the ground, breathing heavily. “Oh my…” There was a long cut down the right side of Y/N’s face. “Did he—“

“I’ll be fine…” She panted. “I’ll be fine…”

“Come on,” Daisy urged, helping Y/N up. “Let’s get that stitched up.”

Daisy took Y/N to Coulson’s office and Bobbi brought all the supplies to help patch up the cut.

“He didn’t mean to,” Bobbi said quietly.

“I know,” Y/N responded.

“He just misses Simmons so much.”

“I know.”

“It hurts—“

“I know, Bobbi! Just stop, okay?” Tears formed in Y/N’s eyes. “Out of everyone here, I think I understand the most… I lost Bucky… no one could find his body… I was torn. I acted out too. That’s how I’m here… So I understand. I get that now we know Bucky’s alive, but we didn’t then. And I didn’t think he would ever come back… Honestly, at least he has hope. That’s more than I ever had.”

~~~

Fitz showed up in the office not too long later. He had a tablet in hand and pulled up his findings.

“Sand,” he stated. “Not just sand. Impossible sand.”

“The monolith’s case is a clean room,” Mack said. “There’s nothing in there but that rock. Not even dust.”

“Unless you blast it open with a shotgun and contaminate everything,” Hunter retorted.

“That’s not what this is,” Bobbi shook her head.

“Okay, the sand itself, not unusual,” Fitz continued. “Mostly silicone-dioxide particles just like on Earth.”

“Wait, are you saying…” Y/N paused. “You’re saying this sand is not from Earth?”

“Carbon dating show that—“

“It predates the Earth by a billion years,” Fitz interrupted Bobbi.

“So you think the rock is a portal?” Daisy asked.

“No. No, I’m proving that it’s a portal. Okay, to another planet, a-a very old planet. A crack in space-time that carried Simmons away… and carried the sand back. Which means…”

“She’s out there,” Coulson stated. “But it’s been months.”

“Yeah?”

“She could be long gone from wherever this thing dropped her.”

“Yeah.”

“She could be dead.”

“Yes.”

“But we’re gonna find out, aren’t we?”

“Yeah.” / “You’re damn right.” / “For sure.” / “Yeah.”

“Okay, Fitz, what do you need?” Y/N asked. “I can get Tony to bring some things as well.”

“Uh, uh, well, uh, more historical data. People have studied this thing for centuries. I need an expert on quantum mechanics and Einstein-Rosen Bridge theory. And a— a sandwich would be nice.”

“I might have an idea,” Coulson said, nodding, “about the other things.” He turned to Daisy and Mack. “You two, stay with our new inhuman guest. Be here for Dr. Garner’s assessment. Building that team is still the priority.”

“What did I say?” Daisy commented, her and Mack exiting.

“Bobbi—“

“I’m on this with Fitz,” Bobbi responded.

“Yeah, haven’t you been on this with Fitz the whole time? Hiding his trip to Morocco, covering for him on a constant basis?”

“Have I?” She smirked, walking out.

“And you know where you’re going,” Coulson said to Hunter. Hunter nodded and left.

“What about me?” Y/N asked. “I’m staying until Simmons is found. I’ve already texted Tony and he’s on stand-by if we need anything.”

“With me.”

~~~

Coulson explained that they were going to make a visit to a Professor Randolph. He was an Asgardian, hiding out on Earth. The team had a run in with him once when Y/N was on a break. Bobbi and Fitz joined them.

“I’m sorry,” Randolph said, reading a book inside of his cell. “I can’t help you.”

“Can’t or won’t?” Coulson questioned.

“Potato, puh-tah-toe.”

“And your reason?”

“The nightly news, cities flying into the atmosphere, government task forces, and now the public is freaking out about alien outbreaks. Pretty crappy time to be on Earth if you’re not a local, so I am staying low. And of course,” he chuckled, “there is my current situation.”

“Destruction of property, public drunkenness,” Bobbi clarified.

“And here I thought that Asgardians could hold their drinks?” Y/N retorted.

“Yes, well, Asgardians can generally hold their drink. It’s just, well, one night I tried to hold all the drinks.”

“Asgardians are also strong, right?” Bobbi questioned. “You could easily break out.”

“What? And miss dinner?” He chuckled. “Oh, no. Yes, norse prisons are surprisingly evolved—decent food, comfy bed, extensive library, and no attention being drawn to me. Come back in a few months, why don’t you? Maybe then I’ll be in the mood.”

“Can’t I just call in Thor?” Y/N muttered to Bobbi.

“We don’t have a few months,” Fitz stated.

“And neither do you,” Coulson said. “I don’t have to remind you that I saved your life. Though I did just mention it in case you forgot. But I’d still have no problems contacting those task forces you mentioned. I bet they’d go bonkers to have a real life Asgardian to dissect in their labs. I don’t know how comfy you’d be there.”

“Why, Agent Coulson…” Randolph said, standing up. “Are you threatening me?”

“I wouldn’t call it a… well, yeah, I guess I am. That’s absolutely a threat.”

“You’re different now. You know that?”

“One must accommodate the times or things get messy.”

“What’s with the hand?”

“Things got messy.”

“Well… you’ll have to cover my realize. And if there is a portal, which I will have to see to believe, you are diving into very dangerous waters here.”

“We live in the dangerous waters,” Y/N commented. “And have been for a while.”

Randolph exhaled sharply. “Alright. Well, it’s not like you’re giving me any choice.”

He quickly tore off the door and the alarm started blaring. He grabbed his coat and they began walking out. Guards rushed in.

“He did it,” Randolph said, pointed at Coulson.

Coulson gave a nervous chuckle and a smile.

~~~

After talking themselves out of it, they took Randolph to the base. He walked around, observing the monolith.

“Well, I hate to disappoint, but it looks like your regular, old—“ He stopped when the monolith turned to liquid then back into a rock. “Oh. How often does it do that?”

“It’s random,” Fitz answered.

“No. No, no, no, no. It may seem random. But… something is clearly triggering it.”

“I’ve checked it against tides, relation to the sun, rotation—“

“On this planet. So you have no idea how to control it. Why come to me? I’m no interstellar-travel expert. I’ve never even studied gravitational lensing or zero-point energy fields or quantum-harmonic oscillation theory.”

“Yet you know all those words you just said,” Bobbi retorted.

“And you’re scared of portals,” Coulson added. “You’re scared of being dragged back home through a portal. Y/N?”

“It would be my pleasure,” Y/N replied with a smirk.

She walked up to Randolph, opening a portal behind him and pushed him into it. Another portal opened on the other side of the room, causing him to exit from it.

“Impossible,” Randolph panted. “No human should be—“

“I’m connected with the Tesseract,” Y/N interrupted. “I can channel it. And I know it’s on Asgard and I’m pretty sure if I tried hard enough I could send you back there.”

“What I think, Randolph, is that in your drunken stumble through history, you’ve probably investigated every story involving a portal,” Coulson said.

“And I’ve seen you eyeing all of your exits,” Bobbi added. “My knee brace, wondering if you can get away with it. The only reason you came with us was to confirm its existence.”

“And destroy it,” Randolph confirmed.

“You’ll have to go through me,” Fitz stated.

“And I could. Literally. But, then, I don’t know what amazon woman and robot hand are capable of these days. And don’t get me started with the Avenger over there. So I will help you get her back. I’m not entirely heartless. But if I do, I want your word that we will demolish this portal and no one passes through it again.”

“I’ll sleep better at night,” Coulson confirmed.

“Good. Well, I’ve investigated a lot of these wormhole rumors. But that’s all they were, rumors. None have panned out. So we know nothing of its origin.”

“Kree, maybe.”

“And this parchment was found with it,” Bobbi said, grabbing the paper and handing it to Randolph.

“Well, hello,” Randolph said, studying the parchment through the bag it was in. “I’ve seen this.”

“It’s a common Hebrew word.”

“Yes. What else do we know, Mr. Fitz?”

“Uh, well, the monolith changed hands a lot,” Fitz explained. “Germanic tribes, spent the hundred years’ war in France. But before the Napoleon era, it was moved again. I lost track of it somewhere in—“

“England.”

“Yeah. How did you know that?”

“Because I have seen this word carved into the walls of a castle in Gloucestershire, England, in 1853. To the plane!” Then Randolph started for the door, when no one followed he turned around. “W—am I allowed to say that?”

“Let’s all go to the plane, I guess,” Coulson agreed.

~~~

While on the flight over to England, Y/N was talking to Tony.

“Are you sure you guys don’t need my help?” Tony asked. “I could get there at the same time as you still.”

“I’m sure, Tony,” Y/N replied. “The lead we’re currently following seems solid.” Y/N sighed. “I just want to bring Simmons home so that I can come home.”

“You’ll find her. I know you will.”

“I miss you.”

“I miss you too.”

From the doorway, Fitz cleared his throat, drawing Y/N’s attention to him. He looked guilty.

“I need to go, Tones,” Y/N said. “I love you.” She hung up, slipping her phone in her pocket. “You need something, Fitz?”

“Yeah, I, uh…” Fitz started, coming to sit beside Y/N. “I need to apologize… I shouldn’t have hit you back like I did. You were only trying to help… I’m so sorry.”

“I know, Fitz.” She rested a hand on his knee. “I completely understand… I was the same way when Bucky died. Or, I guess, when I thought he was dead… So I get it, Fitz. I think that’s why Coulson called me in.”

“Or cause he missed you. You and May left, he lost his hand and Simmons… I think he just wanted a little of the good old days back.”

“Sadly, after we find Simmons, I can’t stay… I need some more time. I’m doing much better than I was. But I don’t think I can ever go back to this life full time. I don’t think it’s in the cards anymore.”

~~~

Randolph led them into the castle. They looked around with their flashlights, searching for the carving.

“Yes. Yes, yes,” the Asgardian exclaimed. “I came here for a costume ball. That was the pretext, of course, ‘cause I had heard rumors of travel to the stars. Found it all to be nonsense. But it was a fun party.”

“The carvings?” Coulson questioned, trying to get back to the point.

“Oh, right, right. Of course. So I was here admiring the stone work, and…”

Randolph turned and shined his flashlight on the stones over the door. There was the word, carved in to one of the stones.

“The same as the scroll,” Fitz stated. “Death.”

“Maveth,” Randolph clarified. “Yeah, one of its translations is actually ‘death by punishment’.”

“Could mean no trespassing,” Coulson suggested.

“A Hebrew warning carved in an English castle struck me as odd. Out of place. Seems ancient.”

“But you stopped looking into it?” Y/N asked.

“A man dressed as an owl, of all things. I got him drunk enough to admit that no travel to other worlds was even occurring. Just ritualistic killings.” Everyone continued to look around as Randolph talked. “En, the whole thing stunk of half-baked satanism. Just some fabrications to entice new members. And, well, there were fire dancers. I got distracted.”

“Here’s another one,” Coulson called. “This is why I got rid of all the SHIELD logos on our vehicles. It’s like screaming for attention.”

“About time,” Y/N muttered.

“You know, there’s an ginormous eagle symbol on top of our jet,” Bobbi pointed out.

“Yeah,” Coulson agreed. “Sometime I can’t help myself with the cool.”

Coulson then pushed a stone in the wall, causing part of it to open up. Revealing a passage way.

“You certain about this?” Randolph asked. “It does say death by punishment.”

Fitz and Y/N went in, examining the walls. They made their way down the passage. Eventually it led to a round room, with old equipment in it.

“Okay, well, this wasn’t on the last tour,” Randolph said. “It’s an odd shoe for architecture this period. Definitely built after I was here.”

“Reminds me of the bunker under the Louvre,” Bobbi commented.

“What? There’s no bunker under the Louvre. That’s a joke, right? You messing with me.” Bobbi simply glanced his way and walked to the other side of the room and Y/N chuckled. “Alright, great. Now I’ll have to check.”

Fitz knocked on the metal he was studying. “It’s late 1800s,” he stated.

He pushed the lever up. Suddenly, electricity crackled and the room lit up.

“Still got some life to it,” Coulson commented.

“I hear water,” Bobbi added. “Could be a stream underground, maybe hydroelectric power.”

On the other side of the room, Fitz hit the control panel on the wall and Randolph pulled down another lever. Suddenly, a round floor panel, in the center of the room, disappeared. They all walked up to it, looking down.

“This looks a lot like it was made to hold—“

“The monolith,” Fitz interrupted Bobbi. “This machine was designed to control the portal, to open and close it at will.”

“Do you know that, or is that just what you hope it to be?” Coulson asked.

“Well, there’s only one way to find out.”

Sighing, Coulson pulled out his phone and dialed a number. “Mack, I need you to load something onto Zephyr One and bring it to us.”

“What exactly am I bringing, sir?” Mack against on the other end of the phone.

“Yeah… you’re not gonna like it.”

~~~

It wasn’t long before Mack and Daisy arrived with Zephyr One and the monolith was being lowered into the hole. Fitz and Randolph were getting the systems working. Bobbi was guiding the container down, monitoring the monolith on the tablet she was holding.

“Zephyr One,” Bobbi called into the comms, “you’re clear to retract.”

“Wow. Room full of ancient gack,” Mack commented as him and Daisy entered the room. “Kind of reminds me of your office, director.”

“Realistically, what are the odds of this thing working?” Daisy asked.

“If we were realistic, we never would have gotten this far,” Coulson said.

“With anything,” Y/N added.

“Well, Andrew Garner thinks I need to be more so,” Daisy said. “He recommended three months observation and counseling before reassessment for Joey. Says I’m reckless.”

“Wonder what he thinks about me.”

“Don’t take it personally,” Coulson said. “He probably just meant that—“

“He said you’re desperate,” Daisy added.

“What? He didn’t say that. Did he say that?”

“I can read minds, Phil,” Y/N said. “He definitely said that.”

“You can read minds, too?” Randolph pipped up. “Why is the Tesseract gifting you all these things?”

“Long story.”

“Let me guess,” Bobbi came up to them. “I’m struggling to come to terms with physical limitations and losing my sense of self instead of redefining it.”

“No,” Daisy said. “He didn’t mention you.”

“Oh.”

“Oh, he did. That’s what he said.”

“Oh, good.”

“Yeah.”

“Mack,” Fitz called. “Mack, push that lever.” Mack turned to a lever. “No, the one— the one that’s— the one that’s down. The one— the one beside it. Push it.”

Mack did as directed while Fitz did the same thing on the other side of the room. The gears starting turning, the machine started working. The room began to tremble and the monolith turned to liquid.

“Fitz, it’s working!” Y/N exclaimed.

Fitz knelt down beside the whole, pointing a flashlight into it.

“It’s staying open,” he stated. “Light! I need more light!”

The trembling began to get to Daisy. Y/N watched with concern as she groaned and put her head in her hands. She went over.

“Daisy?” She quietly called. “Daisy, what’s happening?”

“We got a problem!” Mack shouted.

“I need some bloody light!” Fitz yelled.

“Fitz!” Coulson called, tossing him a flare gun.

Fitz shot it through the monolith. Daisy held her head as she began panting.

“The gears have locked!” Mack yelled. “Bobbi!”

Y/N’s eyes grew wide as she saw blood coming out of Daisy’s nose.

“Daisy!” She exclaimed. Y/N caught her as she fainted, slowly lowering her down.

“Skye?” Coulson called, coming up beside them. “Hey.” The trembling and machine stopped. “Skye, are you okay? Skye?”

“It’s Daisy,” Daisy replied softly.

“What?”

“It’s Daisy now,” Y/N responded.

“You’re really having a hard time with this, huh?” Bobbi wondered.

“Damn it,” Coulson muttered. “Yeah. Daisy, hey.” Daisy lifted her head up. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” she replied. Y/N helped her sit up. “I’m better. That pulsing sound was killing me.”

“What pulsing sound?”

“Are you serious? It was deafening.”

“The vibrations,” Y/N whispered.

“What?”

“The vibrations. You can sense them. And there was so many, that it was too much for you. It’s kind of like, how if you’re all thinking at once, especially about a similar think, I can sense it.”

“Maybe, Y/N’s on to something,” Bobbi agreed.

~~~

The team was currently trying to find a way to put the machine back together.

“It’ll just rattle apart again,” Fitz stated. “We have to reinforce the connections.”

“Reinf— look, most of the workings are under the ground,” Mack said. “We just can’t tear the castle down. And actually, we’re lucky the room is shaped this way, or the machine might have shaken it apart on top of us.” The two bent down to try and pick a piece of the machine up.

“Wait. Wait. Yeah, yeah, yeah. That’s the point. Quantum harmonic oscillation theory, like the professor said.”

“I know that look,” Bobbi commented.

“It’s a strange shape for this time period because it’s made to resonate, uh, to—to—to—uh— create a-a quantized field within the stone.”

“Fitz, you’re talking, but we’re not totally following,” Coulson said.

“The room is a speaker. The machine is an amplifier. Uh, a sub—subsonic frequency to resonate with the monolith.”

“You saying you figured out a way to fix the machine?” Mack asked.

“No. I’m saying I figured out that—“

“We don’t have to,” Daisy said, glancing at Y/N. “I can do it. I can open the portal myself.”

“Daisy, no,” Y/N said. “It’s too risky.”

“If I can open the portal and help save Simmons, then I’m doing it.”

~~~

The team added a frame with a lot of rope, to lower some into the portal and bring them back.

“Well, turns out we’re standing in the in the middle of the world’s largest subwoofer,” Randolph stated.

“Yeah,” Mack agreed.

“If the point of the machine was to resonate the room at a certain frequency,” Daisy said, “I can do that.”

“And you can replicate it?” Coulson asked.

“Kind of drilled into my brain.”

“And it could kill you,” Y/N stated, not at all happy with this plan.

“How long do you think you can hold it?” Coulson asked.

“Maybe a minute,” Daisy responded.

“If it’s too much, you pull back. I can’t lose you, too.”

“I got this.”

“Here we go,” Bobbi said, reentering the room with a machine. “Camera and data sensors are hard-lined back to us through a cable. No signal loss that way.” She clipped it onto a cable to be lowered into the portal. “If Daisy can hold it, we’ll get a visual of the other side.”

“That’s what we’re looking for,” Coulson said before turning to Daisy. “Alright, you listen to me. You take care of yourself. We lose that probe, nobody cares.”

“Uh, I’m confused,” Randolph spoke up. “What exactly is she planning to do here?”

Allowing her space, everyone moved as Daisy readied herself. She held both arms out to the sides, causing the parts of the old machine to tremble.

“Sorry,” she strained an apology. “Still tuning.”

After getting the right tune, she aimed at the monolith. Causing it to turn into liquid.

“Hold it open as long as you can,” Fitz stated.

Everyone turned to him. He had clipped himself onto the cable. He ran towards the liquid monolith.

“Fitz, no!” Coulson shouted.

But Fitz jumped into the monolith, disappearing.

“I’m going in after him!” Y/N yelled.

“No!” Coulson held her back. “I can’t lose you anymore than I already have.”

“But I’m the best chance to get back if Daisy can’t hold it long enough.”

“You don’t know if you can do that.”

“And you don’t know if I can’t.” They stared at each other. “If Daisy looks like she’s ready to give out, I’m going in. And no one can stop me.”

The trembling and the cable rope moving was causing the structure that was keeping it steady to lose up. Mack, Bobbi, and Y/N all quickly grabbed onto a different piece, trying to keep it steady.

“Damn it. Pull him back,” Coulson ordered, rushing around to where the cable was. “Get him back here.” He pulled the lever and the cable began spin back up.

“I can’t hold it!” Daisy shouted.

“Y/N, don’t! We can’t lose the both of you!”

Before Y/N could jump, Daisy stopped the trembles and the monolith burst into pieces. Every looked down in the hole, hoping, praying, for something to give. Suddenly, Fitz uncovered himself and pulled Simmons up. Daisy fell to the ground, Mack and Y/N rushing to her.

“You did good, tremors,” Mack said. “You did good.”

~~~

Y/N brought everyone onto Zephyr One quickly. Simmons needed to be checked out immediately and Fitz needed to be monitored in case of radiation. They laid Simmons in the containment module, hooked up to IV’s and allowed time to rest. Randolph and Y/N were standing outside as Coulson came to update them.

“They’re gonna be okay,” he informed. “No sign of radiation or infection. Fitz would never have found her, but she saw the flare. We brought a woman back from the dead today.”

“Yes,” Randolph agreed. “And, happily, you kept up your end of the bargain. The portal is destroyed.”

“Thank Daisy for that.”

“Yeah. Agent Coulson… what exactly is Daisy?”

“The call themselves inhumans.”

He looked surprised. “I have not heard that word in a very long time.”

“You know it?” Y/N questioned.

“I know more about them than I do you. You are something else… The Tesseract you said, that’s how you get your abilities?”

“Part of them.”

“Interesting.”

~~~

They were landing at the base when Y/N pulled Coulson aside.

“You’re leaving,” he stated.

“I am,” she replied.

“Anything that I could do to convince you to stay?”

“No… Look, I’m sorry, Phil, that I left and May left. But sometimes you need to tap out. SHIELD can’t be everything in anyone’s life… Even yours.” Y/N pulled him in for a hug. “If you need anything like this again, I’ll be there.” She pushed herself away, walking back towards the portal she opened. “Just don’t go opening anymore portals to other planets any time soon. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Bye, Phil.”

~~~

“But she’s safe? There’s nothing wrong with her?”

“Nothing,” Y/N shook her head.

“Wow,” Tony leaned back. “That’s… that’s—“

“A miracle. An absolute miracle.”

“And you’re sure you don’t want to join the team again?” Tony pulled Y/N in-between his legs. “You didn’t miss it at all?”

“I missed them. But not SHIELD. Plus,” she gave him a kiss, “I wouldn’t get to do that as much as I would like.”

Tony hummed. “Good. Can you do it again?”

next chapter >

NOTES: from now on the taglist when be added by a reblog. I will reblog it using my second account, @just-dreaming-marvel-2. Just so that my main page doesn’t get too cluttered.

If you want to be added to the tag list, please dm me or send in an ask.

#Phil Coulson x Reader #tony stark x reader #agents of shield x reader #aos x reader #iron man x reader #the avengers x reader #avengers x reader #marvel imagine #agents of s.h.i.e.l.d.#agents of shield #phil coulson #tony stark #Iron Man #marvel #Avengers #The Avengers

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chiseler · 3 years

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Hero of Our Nation

I first encountered Roger Ramjet on a Chicago public access station in 1983. It was part of an early morning show apparently aimed at stoner insomniacs. The show came on at five and also included episodes of Lancelot Link, Secret Chimp, that awful Beatles cartoon, and a weather report clarified by some appropriate pop song (“Here Comes the Sun” or “Here Comes the Rain Again”). I was usually up and around that early for some godforsaken reason, and originally started watching on account of Lancelot Link. Always did love that Lancelot Link. But Roger Ramjet was, well, let’s just say it was a revelation.

Roger Ramjet, “ that All-American good guy and devil may care flying fool” (as he compulsively introduces himself) was a none too bright and none too coordinated drug-dependent space age superhero in an ongoing battle against the assorted forces of evil (or more specifically, N.A.S.T.Y.) to preserve the American Way of Life. He was square-jawed, straight-laced, straight-faced, and True Blue if little else, so hyper-patriotic that nearly every time his name is spoken aloud an American flag, a bald eagle, or a rotating ring of stars appears on the screen. After catching one or two episodes, I forgot all about Lancelot Link.

The show was easy to overlook, especially when squeezed between the Beatles and some secret agent chimps with a psychedelic band. The episodes were only five minutes long (maybe seven with the abrasive theme song filling out the opening and closing credits), and were so crudely drawn and animated it might at a glance seem like something a couple of junior high school kids threw together in their basement one weekend. The shows were so primitive they hardly bothered with niceties like “backgrounds” satisfied instead to settle for rudimentary suggestions of a setting. But the writing was so sharp and the voice talent so good what it really felt like, if you paid attention, was a spoof of a ‘40s radio serial like Sky King or Gangbusters, complete with a soap opera organ and illustrated by a handful of jerky drawings scratched out by someone’s kid. People who thought Jay Ward’s Bullwinkle and Dudley Do-Right were crude when compared with the output from Disney or Warner Brothers had no idea what “crude” meant.

Looking at it today what it reminds me of more than anything are the paper cutout animations of the earliest episodes of South Park, before they upgraded to Flash. Along with the lo-fi stylistics, the humor was clearly aimed at an adult audience while pretending otherwise. You may not find any child molestation jokes or crass religious cracks in Roger Ramjet, but for 1965 the lightning-fast humor was pretty hepcat and sophisticated, with undisguised satirical references to the Cold War, Central American turmoil, and the Vietnam War (“Hey kids, this is Roger Ramjet,” demanding that you stay tuned to this station to see my next adventure,” Roger announces in his commanding superhero baritone. “Or I’ll see to it that all you little rascals are drafted.”) . Mixed in with the topical jokes we also get some highly unlikely name drops, from Noel Coward and Henry Cabot Lodge to James Joyce and bawdy nightclub performer Rusty Warren, as well as film parodies and literary nods to the likes of Catch-22 and Catcher in the Rye. It’s also a little less than what you might call racially sensitive by modern standards (consider Mexican revolutionaries The Enchilada Brothers, Beef and Chicken).

While a lot of the more timely jokes might be lost in the murk of the over 50 years since it first aired, there’s plenty of rapid-fire absurdity that’s timeless, from the misspelled title cards punctuating the narration to the self-consciously dumb coked-up adventures.

Bullwinkle aired from ‘61 to ‘64. Roger Ramjet came along a year later and Jay Ward’s influence is undeniable. The difference was Roger Ramjet crammed the equivalent number of bad jokes, references, and plot twists of a typical 8-part Bullwinkle serial into each five-minute episode, both mirroring the rapid-fire screwball dialogue of the ‘30s and the frenetic quick-cut comedy to come along a year or two later in shows like The Monkees and Laugh-In.

The episodes were produced with essentially no budget and were cranked out very quickly by a small team of writers, voiceover artists and animators with solid day jobs in radio and TV. They were all seasoned pros, some dating back to the days of classic radio, who worked on the show after hours as a way of letting off a little steam and tossing around a few cynical, subversive cultural jabs their day jobs wouldn’t allow. The show was created originally by animator Fred Crippen (who went on to work on some pretty dreadful crap like the Extreme Ghostbusters and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles) and Ken Snyder, an ad exec who moved over into producing cartoons. They brought in a remarkable team of voice talent and comedy writers, including Gene Moss (the voice of Smokey the Bear) Jim Thurmam (who did a lot of kids shows including Sesame Street), Dick Beals (the original voice of Gumby), and the great Gary Owens, a drive-time deejay in LA who would get national recognition soon enough as the on-screen announcer for Laugh-In. Although they would all get specific credits in the end (Crippen as director, Moss as a writer) it was a communal effort, in which everyone contributed to the writing, and everyone, even the executive producer, did a few of the voices. Apart from the regular crew, careful listeners might also catch a few uncredited guest appearances by some surprisingly big names (I’m told Sinatra and Dean Martin appear in an episode, but I’m still looking for that one). Owens was the star, though, as his ability to read the most ridiculous lines in a dramatic deadpan made him the perfect Roger Ramjet. Together they made 156 episodes (about 150 still exist), which were sold directly into syndication in ‘65 as half hour shows, each containing three unconnected adventures. I can’t say as I’m exactly sure who they thought their target audience was at the time, except maybe each other.

Much like William Conrad in Bullwinkle, each show opened with our narrator, Steve Allen alum Dave Ketchum, setting the mood and the scene (“In today’s depressing episode,” he’d begin with dramatic enthusiasm, or maybe it was an “existentialist episode,” “phlegmatic episode,” “rickety episode,” “hairy episode,” or “ethnic episode”). Then we’re out of the gate at a breakneck pace, with a flurry of gags coming from every direction. “Ramjet rode into Boot Hill,” we’re told, “where the men were men and the women were men, which can get pretty old after awhile.”

While none of the shows are connected, there are a few recurring characters and locations worth remembering: Roger hails from Lompoc, an actual California town (“where nothing ever happens, and seldom does”) and takes his orders from General G.I. Brassbottom, a no nonsense military man who “hadn’t had an original idea since he was a civilian.” He’s also assisted by Yank, Doodle, Dan, and Dee, the unusually chubby kids who make up the American Eagle squadron. Like Roger, all the members of the squadron wear their white jumpsuits and flight helmets at all times (Roger even wears his helmet on dates), and in true superhero sidekick fashion, their primary job is to get Roger out of scrapes and make sure his drugs are handy.

That’s one little detail more than a few casual viewers have taken umbrage with. Roger, see, is a pretty hapless character most of the time, but he repeatedly saves the world thanks to a little help from his Proton Energy Pills (PEP), which take five seconds to kick in, then give him the strength of 20 A-Bombs for 20 seconds. Modern viewers seem a little uncomfortable with the idea of a superhero gulping amphetamines in order to function, but all I can say is, well, it was a different time, and hey, it worked for Roger and Elvis both.

The proton energy pills come in handy when dealing with his arch-nemesis Noodles Romanoff, the short, trench coat and fedora wearing head of N.A.S.T.Y. (the National Association of Spies, Traitors, and Yahoos). Romanoff may not have a Natasha, but he does have a gang of cronies and thugs who all mumble in unison (save for one, who can’t seem to get the rhythm).

Along with Romanoff and his gang, Roger also has to contend with some lanky alien robots, the Solenoids (voiced by executive priducer Ken Snyder), and their repeated efforts to invade the planet in assorted ridiculous ways (in one episode, they begin kidnapping all the Miss America contestants, who “were disappearing faster than co-eds at a Dartmouth weekend.”)

When not saving the world, Roger found himself competing with the smarmy hotshot test pilot Lance Crossfire (who sounds an awful lot like burt Lancaster) for the affections of Lotta Love, the fickle Southern belle with a taste for the finer things in life.

Then there are the adventures themselves. Some seem standard superhero fare, but only to a point. Earth is besieged by flying saucer attacks (sort of). Roger’s hometown is terrorized by a werewolf (sort of). Roger plays tennis with a kangaroo, or becomes the first man to surf in space, or, in a personal favorite, attempts to stop the flow of bootleg comic books into America’s drug stores.

Actually, there’s an interesting moment in that one that revealed just how subtle you could be even with animation this unsophisticated. Okay, so Noodles Romanoff, see, is replacing real comics in drug store racks with bootlegs in which popular superheroes are humiliated, all in an effort to destroy the morale of America’s children. After Brassbottom shows Roger a few examples (the issues include “Superman Gets Beat Up by a Chicken!” and “Ratman Stubs His Toe!”) he explains that if this sort of thing continues, “America’s kids won’t have anyone to look up to except YOU, Ramjet.” Then, for just an instant in that crude and jerky style, Roger cuts his eyes toward the camera, revealing in that moment everything we needed to know, namely that it’s what he’s always wanted.

Thirty years on and that still sticks with me.

In the end, though, the characters and storylines are secondary at best In Roger Ramjet. At heart it’s a matter of trying to keep up with all the lightning-quick jokes and wordplay, the non-sequiturs and references. In the five minute span of one cowboy-themed episode I counted nods to at least seven classic Western films, from High Noon to She Wore a Yellow Ribbon, and I suspect I missed a few. It really is such a dizzying blur of dialogue and bad puns and cultural references, sometimes, christ, even just references to old jokes that take the form of bad puns (“Waiter, there’s a spy in my soup” or “how many angels can swim in the head of a beer?”), that absurd as it all is, repeated viewings are a necessity to catch everything. It’s a bit like having the complete contents of an issue of MAD magazine jammed onto a single page. It can make your head hurt after a while, but it’s worth it. Whether the density and the pace make it better or worse for stoner viewing is something, I guess, each stoner will need to answer for him or herself. Lots of bright colors, though.

In 1965 there was nothing new about making cartoons with adult sensibilities in mind. Betty Boop and Bugs Bunny were made to be shown as short subjects to largely adult audiences. Jay Ward’s cartoons a few decades down the line were near-revolutionary for smuggling hip, subversive political humor into what had become an exclusively child-friendly format. What made Roger Ramjet so radical was it’s blend of ‘30s radio style with mid-’60s cynicism, as well as its foreshadowing of our shrinking attention spans, a hyper-condensed proton pill of comedy and commentary disguised as just another dumb, low-rent superhero cartoon. Although it’s barely remembered today, its influence is still evident in most any subversive animated show you can name, even if they’ve slowed things down a bit.

by Jim Knipfel

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winterhawk-olympic-bang · 3 years

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Let’s Get It On

How To Write Sex

Guest Poster: CB

Here is our second Writer Workshop post, written by CB. Have a read and then head over to the Discord Server where we have a channel for you to take part in a discussion based on the post, with chances to share your own ideas too.

So Your Characters Want to Bang

Welcome to my Ted Talk on How To Successfully Write Pornography! We’re going to cover a few bases here (first, second, third, and home base, to keep up with the metaphor), but feel free to reach out if you have any questions either on the Discord server or here on the Tumblr. If you take a look at my body of work you can see that a significant portion of it is explicit fic, which I’m told is a struggle for some folks. Apparently my CPU is 80% porn.exe, so I’ve got a bit of a niche. Additionally, I’ve got a medical professional background that includes a very specific nurse certification in sex-related shenanigans, so if you’ve got questions, I’ve got answers.

When I decide to write porn (or when my characters decide it for me), I have a few basic things that I keep in mind in order to make sure the story stays on track, the character arcs fit with the scenarios, and that everything doesn’t start to feel too formulaic. I’m going to share my methods and maybe you will find something that helps you out or inspires you to give writing explicit fic a try!

The Mechanics

Let’s start with the basics. Fictional pornography can start to feel, well, a little bit formulaic, especially if you read or write a lot of it. There’s a standard formula of kissing, rubbing, fingers, dicks (or other bits), everybody comes, the end! There’s nothing wrong with sticking to the basic formula, especially your first time (ha!), but here are some thoughts on how you can make sure you’re getting the specifics done and done well, and how to avoid feeling like you’ve written the sexual equivalent of an English essay.

Lubrication. It… really doesn’t matter exactly what kind of sex your characters are having, you can’t go wrong with lube. Getting things wet and slippery is half the fun and also twice the enjoyment. Sometimes characters decide to get it on in unfortunately risque locations, and lube may not be readily available - here is a nice list of MacGyvered lube solutions you may find helpful in that circumstance. That being said - if you are writing anal sex of some sort, lubrication is an absolute must have.

Preparation. Otherwise known as foreplay. Prep is and can be sexy! Everyone involved wants to have a good time, some preparation is required! I don’t just mean fingers in the butt (although that can be important too, we’re gonna get to that), but just generally building up the level of arousal over time adds to the dynamic you’re trying to create between two characters. Even if it’s fuck-or-die, sex pollen shenanigans, just talking about how hot the character feels for it is still a form of preparation/foreplay. Specifically speaking to buttsex - the amount of prep your character needs is heavily dependent on the circumstances. For your consideration - is this a first time sex situation, or does your character regularly bottom? Are they pressed for time, or is this a long, drawn-out affair? There is not (despite what fanfic writers would have you believe) a certain number of fingers that you have to insert into anyone’s anus that makes them ‘ready’ for sex. A person who regularly bottoms may not need any fingering at all, in fact, but they are still going to need lube. (See point 1.) If your character has never bottomed before, they’re going to need more time and patience than a character that does it a lot, but that doesn’t necessarily mean they need more and more and more fingers. It just means they need a partner with consideration for their comfort. And lube.

Coming. People (and thus, characters) don’t often come at exactly the same time. Frequently someone comes first. The other person may not come at all! They don’t have to! If it’s important to you, that’s fine. But it can be fun to play with the dynamics of one character coming and the other character not, because they’re caring for the first character, or because they want to wait and enjoy the burn for later, or because of whatever other reason - which brings us back to character and story dynamic. Also, playing with this particular dynamic can make your pornography feel a lot less formulaic. Character B didn’t come because they wanted to wait and savor the feeling, and maybe in a few hours or days, Character A gets to really have a good time paying them back with a truly spectacular orgasm. Maybe they just really wanted to see their partner fucked out and happy, and coming really wasn’t that important to them. Maybe they’re sex-postive ace, or maybe they take medication that makes sex and orgasms hard to achieve, but they still enjoy the intimacy. It’s up to you (and your characters!), but it’s not necessary for both people to come for the scene to be satisfying.

Penetration. Penetration is not the end-all-be-all of sex. Penetration isn’t even required for something to be considered sex. Some people never want penetration, and that’s okay. This is a good time to consider your characters’ boundaries, a good way to involve consent, and a good way to consider what kind of bedroom dynamic your characters are going to share - even or especially if it’s completely different to the dynamic they share outside the bedroom. Is penetration necessary or important to the characters, the story, or the development of the relationship? Even if you just want to write it, that’s fine, but considering your characters’ perspective and feeling will give the act more depth and nuance.

Expectations (and subverting them so that whatever you’re writing feels fresh and different). Like I said before, there’s a certain amount of ‘this is what’s going to happen’ expectation in fictional pornography. A series of steps that you can pretty much guarantee is going to get you from point A to point F in the sexual alphabet. One of the biggest ways that you can make your sex scenes feel more intimate, more character-driven, and more unique is by subverting those expectations and doing something different that fits your dynamic better or isn’t “the norm”. For example, in a recent fic I had a character fantasize about what it would be like to have the object of their affection on their hands and knees - but when it came time for the sex, said character flipped the script and climbed on top instead! Fictional pornography isn’t real, and people don’t necessarily want realism in their fiction, but adding some realistic elements (oh no, I’ve lost the lube!/it turns out I don’t like this one thing can we try another thing/a hilarious thing has just happened) can be fun and unexpected, and make the reader more invested in your story.

So You Want To Add An Explicit Scene

You’re writing a lovely enemies to friends back to enemies to lovers arc and the time has come to do the do. I’m excited for you! I’m excited for your characters! But now you want to know how do I add this to my story organically? How do you make this feel like a natural progression of the story, how do you segue from fighting Doombots to sweating it up in the sheets?

The trick, in my experience, is to build up to that moment way before you get there. You have to lay the groundwork for attraction before anyone takes off any clothes. Does Character A get distracted during the fight by staring at Character B’s biceps? Was that an absolutely beautiful sniper shot at an impossible angle and it was so good that Character A’s breath literally catches in his chest and he nearly gets hit in the face by a robot fist? Did someone else in the battle have to remind Character B to pay attention to the fight? Is it movie night and Character A doesn’t even know the plot of the film because they’ve been too busy staring at Character B’s face in the light of the television screen?

A little pining goes a long way, but you have to establish attraction before your characters can act on attraction. It feels jarring to your readers if the characters hated each other two paragraphs ago and now they’re fucking in a public space. Even if it’s hate sex, you gotta have the POV character hate how attractive they find the other character. Then you just need an inciting event - one character takes off their shirt because it’s ripped from the fight, or they bump into each other in the communal kitchen and that hot line of their bodies pressed together sparks a kiss - and then you’re off and running!

The exception to this might be an established relationship Plot What Plot fic, but even then, you’ve probably got an idea that sparks the actual sex - include that in your fic!

Help, This Is Moving Way Too Fast!

Oh no, the pacing is off! It happens to the best of us, don’t worry. You get in a hurry (just come already, oh my god!), and you push through to the end and then on re-read or in beta, you find that the whole thing just feels flat and rushed. It started off so well, and then you lost something somewhere in the middle.

The way I combat this is by focusing on how the characters feel and/or how they react to what’s happening.

Someone’s mouth is on someone else’s body - how does the POV character feel about this? If they’re the recipient, is this the hottest thing that’s ever happened to them? Are they afraid to let go and enjoy it? Are they 404 Error: Brain Not Found? Play around with it. Does the non-POV character say something unbelievably hot/romantic/sappy/hilarious? What kind of mood are you trying to set? This is a character interaction as much as dialogue is, so you’re still working with the back-and-forth of two people who are communicating, but with their bodies. (And words too, to be honest). If the scene is too rushed, slow it down with some internal dialogue, external dialogue, or something emotional (like a realization or an acknowledgement - oh no I love them/oh no I don’t hate them/they always take good care of me). If the scene is too long (to be honest this rarely happens, but it can), consider whether you’ve added too much dialogue or other extraneous interactions that have slowed your scene and taken attention away from what’s happening.

Help, It Sounds Like A Medical Exam

This is nearly always a terminology problem.

I’m not here to tell you what words you can and cannot use in your sex scenes. Everyone feels differently about acceptable terminology (though we have all laughed at dick euphemisms). And that’s not even getting into writing fics with trans characters or different gender identities. Personally, I tend to use cock/dick for penis, and I avoid specifically naming parts for vagina-havers because I’ve never found a good one that I liked that I felt flowed smoothly in my own writing. So this one is more nebulous because it’s a personal choice you’re making about what words do it for you and what words don’t. It’s also, again, about your character’s perspective. If you have a character who prefers certain terminology, that’s the terminology you use.

Here’s what I can suggest. Don’t focus as much on the parts of the body you’re writing, and focus much, much more on the sensations you’re creating. There is a mouth on your POV character’s penis - how does that feel to them? Is it: hot, tight, wet, is there something happening with the tongue, are they sucking really hard, are they going really deep? Alternatively - is the non-POV character enthusiastic? Are they into it? Is how into it they are super hot to the receiving character? Are they sloppy but determined? Beyond the physical sensation, how about emotional reactions? Has your POV character never had this before, or has no one ever treated them with such tender care? Is it the best blowjob they’ve ever received? The worst? (This can still be hot - can the POV character give them careful, precise instructions on how to do it better? Does the non-POV character find THAT extremely hot?).

Keep in mind that you’re not writing technical directions for the characters in your scene. (Unless you are, because you’ve discovered Gentle!Dom!Bucky, who is telling Praise!Kink!Clint exactly what to do.) You’re writing a scene that conveys something emotional to the reader. Is it a sexy emotion? Yes, yes it is. It might also be a sad emotion, or a happy one, or any of the range of human emotions, really, but the point is that readers probably know how the sex works mechanically, what you’re trying to do is give them feelings about it.

Speaking of Feelings

Let’s talk a little bit about motivation. Yes, even sex scenes need motivation. Not to be the prima donna actor over here, but ask yourself: Why am I writing a sex scene?

Generally speaking, well-written sex scenes are better received if they accomplish a goal. Writing a sex scene well is easier if you have this goal in mind before you ever sit down in front of your computer.

Does this scene advance the story? By this I mean: is this an emotional resolution, does it convey something about the characters’ relationship that cannot be conveyed in another venue or does it better express that aspect of their relationship, does it have meaning beyond the immediate gratification of an orgasm or add to the fic in some way?

Does this scene advance the relationship? Is it a big step for one or both characters? Are you showing vulnerability/trust/compassion/concern/etc? Is it an emotional milestone? Is it an expression of love that one of the characters can’t make with words but can demonstrate physically?

I’m going to pull some very specific examples from my own work, helpfully crowdsourced and reviewed by a trusted friend so that I can talk more clearly about what I mean.

Russian Red: if you haven’t read this one, it’s a story about Bucky wearing lipstick and then giving Clint a blow job. That’s it, that’s the fic. When I put it like that, it doesn’t sound all that exciting, really, and maybe it doesn’t even sound like something you’d like. A man wearing lipstick may not be your thing!! That’s okay! (And as an aside, people enjoy reading/writing things that they have absolutely zero interest in in real life, and that’s okay! Fantasies are weird like that, and a normal part of human sexuality, and we aren’t judging anyone for their kinks here.) But this fic employs very specifically some of the points I’ve made so far, so I want to talk a little about it, especially foreplay and emotional investment.

Bucky wearing lipstick in this fic is not about Bucky at all. It is explicitly about fulfilling a fantasy for Clint. In fact, later in the fic, Bucky has a moment of insecurity about it because he had what he thought was a great idea, and in the moment of truth it becomes a bit of screaming panic because what if the whole thing is stupid!!!! We’ve all had that moment. So readers can relate. But also - throughout the course of the fic it becomes something that Bucky also enjoys and finds sexy. So there are multiple motivators: emotional satisfaction for Bucky because he’s doing something for Clint, physical satisfaction for Clint because he is getting his fantasy fulfilled, and then the added bonus of Bucky finding the whole thing unexpectedly hot means that he is also satisfied by the encounter. I have created an emotional need that is satisfied through porn.

Emotional investment (also known as the character is putting in work). Bucky goes through a lot to make this fantasy happen. He has to tell Natasha what he’s doing for one thing, which is uncomfortable. A little bit of character discomfort makes the payoff at the end better, because your reader is invested in your character having a good outcome! It also shows that Bucky cares about Clint more than he cares about the mild discomfort/vulnerability of asking Natasha about lipstick for a mildly kinky thing he’s doing.

Foreplay - the more invested Bucky gets in doing this thing for Clint, the more he starts to find it hot and exciting, the more like foreplay it becomes, which means the payoff in the end is that much better. (Revisit the point on preparation from earlier!). There is a lot of build up from the moment Bucky puts the lipstick on (tactile sensations, memories tied to lipstick, etc.) to the moment he leaves the very first red imprint of his mouth on Clint’s skin and realizes oh shit, this is hot.

This fic is very, very close, tight third-person POV. Keeping the POV so close and tight means that your reader is very much in your POV character’s head - the reader is getting their experiences (emotional, physical, tactile senses) but they’re only able to interpret the other characters’ motivations and reactions through the lens of your POV character. It’s trickier writing, but it means the reader is more connected to the character and therefore the porn. Also, it means that the reader is much more in tune with the non-POV characters’ reactions, which means incoherent mess is just that much hotter.

Personal Security/Security Failure: So these fics are… their own claim to fame in fandom. Gentle!Dom!Bucky and Praise!Kink!Clint have sexy, sexy adventures. The first fic is their first meeting, the second one is fondly known as Circus Spanking. If you haven’t read them, that’s the basic summary, but please mind the tags if you choose to explore this series. Here we’re going to hit on consent, which is important and sexy, and vulnerability/trust.

Again it’s very close, 3rd person POV, which means you’re very much in Clint’s head when he’s a wrecked, incoherent mess. In the previous fic Bucky was watching the incoherency happen, which is very hot. In this fic the reader is experiencing the incoherency. There’s also a lot of buildup in the first fic of Clint experiencing this inexplicable attraction to Bucky, and the confusion he has that Bucky is equally attracted to him - so like foreplay, you’re building it up before they ever take their clothes off.

Consent. If you are dabbling anywhere in the kink neighborhood I cannot express to you how important it is to include explicit consent. Please get a kink sensitivity reader. Don’t surprise your audience with dubious consent - make it clear and explicit from the start, even if it’s consensual nonconsent (which is a tag, but can also be addressed early with a line like ‘this is something they’d talked about previously’). But also! Consent can be sexy! It can be fun! It doesn’t have to be a drawn out contract of hard limits and detailed diagrams (though I have seen that done and done well!). Consent can be as simple as checking in with a partner if they’ve gone quiet or seem so wrecked they can’t express themselves. Consent can be one character telling another exactly what they’re going to do to them (hot hot hot!!), asking if they’re okay with it, and then doing exactly what they said.

Vulnerability/trust. Just like with the previous fic, vulnerability adds a sense of emotional intimacy that can be super hot. If you’re writing kinky fic, vulnerability and trust go hand in hand, and show how deeply invested characters can be in each other - and that they respect and care for one another as well. One character making themselves vulnerable to another with the understanding that the other character isn’t going to take advantage of that trust can be supernova hot if you employ it correctly. The key here is making sure that the character in the position of power respects the vulnerable character’s boundaries. Security Failure in specific sets up an emotional need (increased trust) that is fulfilled physically by the porn that follows. Clint needs to trust Bucky more, and Bucky needs to know that Clint trusts him. Clint making himself super vulnerable in this fic lets both of these needs be fulfilled.

Interactions outside the bedroom compared to interactions inside the bedroom. In this fic, I chose to have these mirror each other - Bucky is in control of himself and in command of the situation in all of their interactions, so before they ever get naked you know what to expect from the dynamic. What can also be fun, however, is subverting expectations, so that how characters interact outside the bedroom is very different from how they interact inside the bedroom - so this is another time when knowing what your characters want/prefer is important motivation for your writing!

Character moments in your porn - there’s a scene in the first fic where Clint (this is all Clint POV) thinks about how much he likes performing a certain act, because it makes him feel good and useful. It’s a very short interaction but it tells you a lot about the character - it tells you he likes to be useful, that he likes to be considered good (hello praise kink!), and it tells you he has low self-esteem which makes you want to wrap him up and a blanket and tuck him in and tell him how good and useful he is, but you also want Bucky to wreck him. Your characters still have characterization, even during porn. In the second fic, we see character growth that mirrors growth within the relationship, but there’s still room to grow because Clint is still uncertain and insecure, and the fic helps advance their relationship to a new level of trust. Through porn.

Communication, communication, communication. Especially in kink fic but honestly in most porn - your characters have to communicate with each other! It can be nonverbal, but you’ve gotta make it clear to the reader.

The Big Finish

Everyone came (or maybe they didn’t), now what CB?

Oof, good question.

To be honest, endings are the hardest (ha!) part. And luckily, we’re going to have a Workshop specifically about how best to accomplish them! But as far as sexy scenes and how to wrap them up and move on, I like to use resolution of whatever need I was trying to meet, and then open the next scene with something that demonstrates a new level of intimacy/relationship dynamic/etc. if it’s part of a larger storyline, or just fade to black if it’s a one-shot.

I hate to keep beating a dead horse, but this also depends on your motivation for writing your sex scene. If you were trying to accomplish something with the story, then you need to somehow demonstrate that goal has been met - are they more comfortable around each other now, are they happier to show off their relationship to their friends, are they finally admitting they’re in a relationship? If you were trying to accomplish something with the relationship itself (which, as you can see, may go hand in hand with the story), then how can you show that? Does the one who usually leaves finally fall asleep in the other person’s arms? Is there a big flowery declaration? Does someone crymax? Does one partner tenderly clean the other partner up with a warm cloth and snuggle them into submission? The world is your oyster! Do what feels right for your characters and the journey you’re taking them on!

And don’t forget the lube.

#winterhawk #WHOB #winterhawk olympic bang #writer workshops #writer workshop: smut #guest post #kangofu-cb #cw: sex mention

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votederpycausemufins · 3 years

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we got so much snow, why do i still have class today? I mean it was short, but why have it at all?

oh and you’ll like this one today @petrichormeraki

:)))))))))

“Holy fuck you’re my dad. The captain is my dad.” Tubbo was stunned, still trying to comprehend it. Crumb on the other hand already accepted it.

“I’ve got a big brudder! Tubbox is my brudder!” She was running around happily and eventually decided to just sit on Tubbo’s shoulder.

“You’re the kid of a celebrity Tubbo!” Tommy slapped a hand on Tubbo’s back in celebration. “Does this mean I can be your plus one to fancy events and shit?”

“I’m not really that kind of celebrity.” Sparklez rubbed the back of his head. “I mean I’m well known, but that’s mainly because I travel a lot.”

“Sprinklez is definitely a celebrity!” Crumb said happily, her tail flicking about. “Millions of people know him! He’s been so myany places!”

“Wonder how Kara’s going to react to all this. ‘Oh hey Kara, remember how I wouldn’t be available for a few days and now it’s been longer than that? Well found my long lost kid!’ I mean it works, but that doesn’t feel right.”

“Is Kara my mom?”

Crumb, feeling a bit chaotic at the moment, answered the question for Tubbo. “Ye!”

“No! No she is not!” Jordan immediately shouted. “That proposal was for being her thousandth kill or something, not for getting married!”

“Honorary mom!”

Sparklez inhaled sharply before sighing to calm himself. “Yes, fine. If you want to think of her like that, sure. Don’t know how she’d react if you call her that though, so maybe don’t actually say it aloud.”

“How’d you even lose him?” Tommy spoke up. He knew Tubbo’s side of the story, but he was a child at the time and it was around ten years ago, so the details might not be accurate anymore.

“Tubbo was really curious as a kid. Always following me around everywhere no matter how much I tried to get him to sit still. He got interested in almost everything I did. We were visiting one world, Univcraft, and I was just driving around.” Grian’s feathers puffed up at the name of the world. “Tubbo was in the back in his seat, but was getting restless. Next thing I know, he had managed to unlock and open the door.”

“Did you keep driving?”

“No! Of course not! I slammed on the brakes and jumped out of the car. Forgot to put park on at first and it started to roll away on its own before I could jump back in to fix it. Tubbo wasn’t in his seat so I assumed he fell out when the door opened but he was nowhere in sight. There seemed to be no evidence and the weirdest part was that he would have had to unbuckle himself from his booster seat and they were all still done up.”

Tubbo’s eyes widened. “I remember that! I… I think when I first realized I wasn’t in the car anymore, the first thing I was upset about was not being in my cool racing harness.” Tommy started laughing. “Hey! I was five!”

Sparklez couldn’t help but chuckle along with Tommy before pulling Crumb and Tubbo into a hug. “Both my ducklings are finally with me.”

“Duckling?” Tommy asked with a mischievous grin.

“I said Tubbo followed me everywhere. He also liked bees a lot so wore yellow half the time. He reminded me of a little duckling.”

“I remember wen Sprinklez cried wen we went to space an I followed him around in my yellow space suit!”

“Okay Crumb, don’t need to bring that up.”

“Hey, if you can say embarrassing shit about me, let her say embarrassing shit about you.”

Jordan winced slightly. “I guess that’s fair. So, what’s your life been like? I can tell you’ve been… active.” He vaguely gestured to a visible burn scar on Tubbo, which made the teen slump their shoulders a little. Tommy pulled Tubbo away into a protective hug and Grian put a hand on Sparklez’s shoulder.

“To put it lightly, they’ve been through hell. I’m pretty sure the only reason he’s doing as good as he is right now is because of Tommy. Don’t expect him to open up about everything right away. Give him space before you start asking questions.” Grian glanced over to the duo and Tommy gave him a quick thumbs up. “Trauma sucks, but having someone there to be supportive, even if you don’t know them as well as you should, is really helpful.”

“Thanks.” Sparklez gave Grian a short nod.

“Well, I’m sure you guys will have a wonderful time together, but I still need to go see Xisuma and give him updates on… well, everything.”

“See ya Big G.” Tommy said to Grian before the avian was flying off.

Mumbo was trying his best not to completely panic, but he was slowly failing. “No no no no no. It has to be there! Why isn’t it there? Is it because of the ice? Is there something with ice?” Mumbo looked down at himself and still saw no symbol. “Maybe it was whatever Dream did. That’s surely something that wouldn’t be accounted for.”

“It wasn’t him, idiot.” Mumbo’s blood ran cold and he turned around to see Drista sitting on a chest. “Obviously it was you. I thought you knew VG and Watcher magic doesn’t mix.”

“This is. No. I, I’m not a Vault God. I refuse.”

“Again with the refusing. It worked before but it won’t now. I told you it was only a matter of time.”

Mumbo was in a state of complete disbelief, trying to find some excuse. Then his disbelief turned to anger as he thought of something. “No, this is your fault. You were keeping in contact with Dream. He said you were. You didn’t do anything.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I didn’t do anything. But you did instead. And how did you do that? Became a Vault God.”

“Well tell me how to unbecome one.” Mumbo demanded.

“You pretty much don’t. That’s why Dream was able to do what he did. Even exiled, he was still a Vault God.”

“Please, there has to be something.” Now he was starting to plead with Drista, hoping for some glimmer of hope for him.

She tilted her head from side to side as she thought about the question. “Well, technically you’re not completely official. In fact I’m here to bring you to that. Maaaaybe if you say something to them, you can get some exception.” She paused to shrug. “Who knows. They may just force you to be one.”

“And if I don’t go?”

“You’ll still be a Vault God, just unstable. Though I will say, you’re doing pretty well on your own.”

Mumbo didn’t care to ask what she meant. He had to go. If he went there was at least some percentage of a chance that he could go back to normal. If he didn’t, he would absolutely end up hurting Grian. “Alright fine. Where do you need to take me?”

Drista smiled and pulled on a mask that was almost identical to the one Dream had worn. “Just follow me.”

Grian spun the chicken feather that was his quill on the table as Xisuma talked. Sure, this was all very important, but the avian was already bored. He kept asking more questions that should have been answered already, but the admin was too focused on the answers themselves to think about the entire context. “I said that it’s going to be like another dimension already. You can’t get to other dimensions without a portal. Think of it like a third being tacked on. And fourth since they have their own nether.”

“What about their end?”

“Again, they haven’t seen it because Dream destroyed all connections to it.”

“And the Watchers?”

“Are combining groups and are adding in two new Watchers to keep things running smoothly.”

“Any previous relation with Zoy and Riffed?”

“Zloy and Pixlriffs, and no. Petrichor and Meraki are just helpful with world crosses. This isn’t the first time something like this has happened. Can I go yet?”

Xisuma paused, tapping his helmet where his chin would be. “Alright, but I’ll be sending messages to you, so look out for those and try to respond quickly.”

Grian nodded and passed the book and quill over to Xisuma with the notes he had taken. He then got up from his chair and stretched before flying into the air. Now that Xisuma was dealt with and Tommy was occupied, next was getting the kids from Stress.

The avian flew over the desert between Xisuma’s jungle and the one that he, Stress and others lived in. He smiled as he passed Mumbo’s base, though he had to steady himself when his flying became a little wobbly. He brushed it off as him just getting distracted and then landed near where Stress said she would be.

“Dad!” Jrumbot was running up to Grian and the avian picked up his robot son in a hug. “You’re okay again! Daddy was really worried about you.”

Grian quickly gave Stress a thankful nod for her looking after the bots. “Well it wasn’t the best situation, but he figured it out like the smart man he is. Now speaking of him, we should go see him. He needs some more cheering up and love. Think you can help with that?”

Jrumbot nodded and then Grian helped him onto his own back, right between his wings. As the younger of the robots held tightly to Grian, the avian picked up Grumbot and then thanked Stress before flying towards Mumbo’s base. As they approached, Grian suddenly felt much more tired than he had moments before, so much so that Jrumbot slapped his face slightly to wake him up so he didn’t crash.

“What?! Huh? Oh right, I’m flying! Sorry boys, guess the meeting with Xisuma took more out of me that I realized. At least we’re almost there.” And he landed at Mumbo’s base, only stumbling slightly.

“Are you alright dad?” Grumbot asked Grian, who gave a nod.

“Yeah, ‘m fine. Oh, that reminds me. Thanks for your help. We found Tubbo’s dad.”

“While I’m glad I helped, you shouldn’t be trying to change the subject.”

Grian sighed, having forgotten how well Grumbot could read him. “I’m fine. I just want to find Mumbo and then we can all go to the big bedroom and hang out there.” He helped Jrumbot down off his back and ruffled his wings before folding them “Mumbo! I’m here with the kids!”

There was no answer making Grian frown. “Maybe he’s tired like you and went to sleep?” Jrumbot suggested.

“Yeah, might be.” Grian then pulled out his communicator to send random messages to Mumbo to either follow the hum of the vibration of a message or to wake Mumbo up with the sound. He sent off one message and was just starting to type another when he got the error message. “Wh- Mumbo’s not here.”

“What do you mean not here?” Grumbot asked, worried by how worried Grian looked.

“I… maybe he went back to the other world? But everything’s connected now, that shouldn’t be an issue.” Grian continued to worriedly ramble. The bots looked at each other and then took Grian’s hands, pulling him to where Mumbo’s bedroom was and got him to lay down on the bed.

“Do we need to get anyone?” Grumbot asked. “Iskall or Stress? Possibly Xisuma?”

Grian shook his head. “We just left Stress’ place. She’s helped plenty. And Xisuma is busy with the world merge. Iskall… they might be available, but message them first.”

Jrumbot’s screen face changed briefly. “Okay! I did it!”

Grian nodded then curled up in the blankets. He really felt tired now and a bit woozy. He gave a groan. “Ugh… Dream was a Vault God and I was around him for who knows how long. Plus I went to visit again… maybe there’s magic sticking to me or around here.”

“Are you sick again?”

Grian gave a half hearted nod. “Yeah, now both of you come here so I can cuddle you. That’s the best kind of medicine right now.”

Jrumbot immediately jumped into the bed and curled up in Grian’s arms. Grumbot on the other hand, wasn’t as fast. “Contact with people is usually not a type of medicine and I’m sure us not being humans makes it even less effective.” But despite his comments, he also joined his brother in Grian’s arms.

#hermit!tommy au #hermit!tommy #tommyinnit #tubbo #crumbl #cuptoast #captain sparklez #grian #grian xelqua #watcher!grian #avian!grian #mumbo jumbo #vault god!mumbo #drista #grumbot #jrumbot #stressmonster101 #xisumavoid

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chattingwiththelightkeeper · 3 years

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A Big Bang, Mr. Spock, A Vintage Toy, And The Newer Submissive...

After an insanely long day being a good worker bee, I was doing more work at home with the TV on as background noise. There was a Big Bang Theory marathon on and it was serving a great purpose of entertaining me during breaks in my work. Then suddenly found myself caught up in an episode where Penny purchased for Leonard and Sheldon new and mint in box Star Trek toys from the 1970s. To make a long story short, Sheldon gives in to his id, breaks open the box, and plays with his toy. This adventure turns tragic and humorous when the toy breaks and he goes to great lengths to hide this while attempting to exchange his broken toy with Leonard’s still mint inbox. Sheldon’s antics as well as the process he follows to admit what he has done provided a welcome break from my work crap-o-la. This pause in my work did spark a thought about kink and hopefully, over the next bit, you can see how Penny, Leonard, Sheldon, Mr. Spock, and a 1970’s Star Trek transporter toy made my brain think about what it is like to be newer to the lifestyle and submissive.

Sheldon’s broken transporter toy caused me to think back to my childhood and I think we all knew a kid who was always breaking their toys, on purpose and this child’s parents would simply buy them a new one to replace the broken toy. No matter how many times or the expense this spoiled youngster would just be given a new toy as a replacement. Sadly, some of these compulsive toy breakers did grow up and find their way into the world of D/S. However, now that they are all grown up the toys they are breaking are not G.I. Joes or smashing Ken and his car through Barbie’s dream house. They are preying upon and attempting to shatter something much worse, the new submissive.

I want to chat about how someone new to the lifestyle can potentially discover these toy breakers before learning this life lesson through experience. First, know these people are not dominants but are predators who are out looking to prey upon those who are new. If you have almost been or have been victimized by one of these creep-its do not blame yourself because they are very good at what they do.

I want to start by talking about an experience most people who are new have and they are hopping around Tumblr, FetLife, or the kink-friendly site of their choice on a dark, starry night and they stumble upon someone who has created an image that they are an expert. Now on many sites that are kinky-based or friendly, many people are amazing leaders within the community and they exist side by side with the faux expert and their evil spawn, the predator hunting new people. I can imagine that it can feel very challenging to try to figure out which is the wheat or the chaff, so I have some suggestions that my help identify those with bad intentions:

They will often be dismissive of others in the community. The thoughts and opinions of anyone who dissents from their views are dismissed and disparaged.

These people may use phrases like sub trainer or even scarier sub breaker. Remember, even though a person may be a new submissive, they are still unique and their likes/desires do not need to be trained and certainly not broken.

They will not want someone to seek opinions or ideas from others, especially if those thoughts vary from their own.

If they post writings and not just hardcore porn, their writings/thoughts may feature soft, sensual D/S images where the pictures are powerful, inviting while designed to mask what is hidden in the words. While not all who use words and images together are bad but it is imperative to focus on strictly the words by removing the visual from your mind.

Look for contradictions. For example, if a d-type says they are a feminist or they support women’s rights but when you carefully read their words phrases “like all women naturally desire a dominant partner” or “women were designed to serve their leader” appear.

Blog posts and their expressions will often contain references to taking, seizing, overpowering, or any other word/phrase that denotes submission is something that can be taken, captured, demanded, or simply expected. Submission can only be freely given by the submissive and I believe a dominant will never ask for or in any way attempt to coax it from an s-type.

Anything that implies a submissive is weak or not as powerful as a dominant. Submissives are not weak or in any way shape or form less than a d-type.

Do not fall for the old line that a real submissive will or will not do/act a certain way poppycock. It is up to you to decide what is real or not. Just because you want/enjoy something that someone else dislikes, does not diminish or take away from who you are or make you less submissive. If you see or hear this line of crap-o-la, know what it truly is, an attempt to bully you or someone else into doing as the dumbinant wants.

Relationships, kinky or vanilla, are still partnerships. People who are dismissive of this should be looked at with a wary eye.

Beware of fake news in writings and blog posts. Some of the more creative predators will appear to reference scholarly work to support their beliefs. Even though you see references to legitimate scholars, for example, Dr. So and So says, there never is any documentation. Writing a kinky blog post does not sound like a place for documentation, but if you are going to using other’s work to support a thesis or use a quote, documenting the source (right down to the page number) is imperative because it is the right thing to do (which speaks to the person’s honesty) but also so the reader can verify that the quote or information is not taken out of context or fabricated. Remember, “All quotes on the internet are true” - Abraham Lincoln.

Be wary of those who use dominance to hide their insecurities. No matter how accomplished an individual is, everyone has insecurities. Some claim dominance but will also deny having even a single insecurity. Should you encounter this, channel your inner Robot, “Danger Will Robinson, Danger!” Robot, Lost In Space.

Never accept or allow someone to tell, imply or suggest that you should distance yourself from family and/or friends. Those that prey often look to break a submissive from their support system.

Build friendships with other dominants and submissives so you can seek advice from them. Even if they are casual, they can be a sounding board and second opinion.

Being dominant is not an excuse to not be respectful to others. Those who express that a dominant cannot be courteous or are so cocky that their behavior is asshatted, need to be stepped away from.

The only person who knows what you want and is YOU. Do not allow others to suggest they know better than you what your thoughts and desires are.

If you feel that you are being manipulated or if a dominant is making you question your sanity, RUN! Always trust yourself and your feelings.

We all have heard the expression that life is short, but also remember there is no reason to rush into things. Take your time, learn about yourself and what you want. You do not need to jump into any relationship or be pressured to do so. It may take you years before you feel comfortable in the lifestyle. There is no hurry. Life is a journey, enjoy it.

Always be careful with the information you share with someone online as predatory individuals can use this against you. Think of it as having your “rights” read to you. Anything you do, say, or share can be used against you, so always be conscious of what you are sharing.

Building trust is a great thing but when you are vetting someone, always verify.

If the conversation is led or focused on kinky play, sex, or both, this is a red flag that this is all the individual is seeking.

Always inquire about safe words and run faster than Forrest Gump from anyone who says they refuse to use/dislikes them. Being submissive does not in any way remove your right to say no for any reason and at any time.

There is no one true way to get your kink on and what works for you is amazing. Do not let anyone tell you otherwise.

Lastly, dating in the world of kink is a very complex process. Your vanilla friends may complain about the complexities they face but do not forget that kink relationships have to work as vanilla relationships while blending in D/S. Do not fall into the trap of trying to just match fetishes because the perfectly imperfect partner will fit both your traditional, vanilla relationship needs as well as your lifestyle needs.

Thank you for taking the time to read this as I know it is a bit on the long side and many people online seem to have the attention span of a nat, so I appreciate the investment of your time. I also hope that some of my thoughts will help keep a newer to the lifestyle person from having a bad experience while giving lifestyle veterans a pleasant reminder on safely getting to know others.

As with all of my writings, please see this disclaimer.

©TLK2021

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mygalfriday · 3 years

Text

Things you always meant to say but never got the chance

Coaxed you into paradise and left you there

{ao3}

Despite the many interruptions, he hopes he has actually managed to salvage the first night of their honeymoon. The unwelcome reminder – in the form of their future selves – of how finite their time together is has only made him more desperate to make this evening perfect. River deserves that and more.

She’d changed despite his insistence she never needed to, exchanging her prison uniform for something flouncy and flirtatious that makes his fingertips itch. She’s close enough to touch but he doesn’t, twirling his top hat between his hands and watching out of the corner of his eye as she helps herself to some more chips. The stars are set to appear any moment now and her gaze is pinned to the sky, waiting for the impressive show he’d promised her.

It’s a marked change from the woman who had been so determined to seduce him in the TARDIS and he fidgets anxiously, secretly wanting a bit of that back but unsure how to get them there. River has always been the instigator and he’s at a loss now that she’s so terribly young and it’s his turn to lead. He grips his hat in one hand and lifts the other to straighten his bowtie, inching a bit closer where they’ve settled on a massive tree branch.

Clearly still as alert to his every move as she’d been as Mels, River glances at him out of the corner of her eye the moment he so much as twitches in her direction. When she notices him hovering, she places a protective hand over her chips and says, “I told you to get your own, sweetie.”

He frowns. “First of all, River Song,” he says, wagging a finger at her and refusing to soften at the way her eyes light up when he uses her name. “I wasn’t trying to steal your chips. And second of all, are you telling me you wouldn’t share? On our honeymoon?”

She whirls to stare at him, blonde curls bouncing around her shoulders and her eyes wide. “Honeymoon?” She laughs once, strained and nervous. “We’re not married.”

He squints at her, fearing for a moment he’d picked up the wrong River. But no, he’d gotten her on her first night in prison – she’d said so herself. So she must have already done Area 52. “Of course we’re married.” He waves a hand, gesturing between them. “There was a bowtie and a kiss-”

River interrupts him in the middle of his kissy-face impression, still eyeing him incredulously. “Yes, where you were a robot. In a timeline that no longer exists. I’ll hardly hold you to it, Doctor.” She smiles when he merely stares at her, the expression somehow unbearably sad despite the softness in her eyes. “You think I didn’t notice in all my research of you how often you get married and swan off, never to see your poor lovestruck bride again?”

“I haven’t swanned off,” he points out, wounded despite the truth of her words. River is different. Surely she knows that. “I’m here now, aren’t I?”

“Of course you are.” She reaches out a hand, patting his bowtie fondly. “I’m the child of your best friends.”

He stares at her. “You think I married you out of guilt?”

“There are worse reasons to get married.” With a shrug, she turns back to the night sky spread out before them and her hand drops from his bowtie to reach for another chip. “But it wasn’t a real marriage, remember? You’re off the hook.”

“River,” he sighs, tugging at his hair. Why is she making him do this? Doesn’t she know he’s rubbish at this? “I don’t want to be off the hook. I want-” Blimey, what does he want? Twelve hundred years old and he still has no idea. He just knows that whatever this is – sitting here, bickering and pretending he doesn’t want any of her chips – he wants every last terrifying moment of it. With her. “I want -”

The sky lights up over their heads, brilliantly illuminated with the glow of a billion stars. It brightens their surroundings like sunlight. Ordinarily, this natural phenomenon wouldn’t be enough to distract him from the issue at hand but River tips up her face to stare at it like she’s never seen anything so wondrous. Her eyes widen and the most beautiful smile bursts to life on her face. It’s a thousand times more distracting than any star has ever been. The Doctor finds himself caught, gazing at her like a new Time Lord staring at his first planet.

Without looking away from the view above, River nudges the plate of chips toward him. A peace offering. The Doctor grins and ignores them, leaning in to press a smacking kiss to her cheek. She swats him, turning her head to seek out a proper snog. He sinks into her with a sigh, fingers finding her wild curls, and doesn’t stop to wonder why he feels like he’s forgotten to say something important.

He knows what he feels. He has known what he feels for far longer than he’d ever admit to any version himself. He hasn’t said the words since he was a young man on Gallifrey, unburdened by loss and the weight of ages. He might have said them once or twice to Susan when she was a child. The point is, it has been so long that the words don’t even feel tangible anymore – nothing but brittle bones and dust taking up space at the base of his throat. He worries if he tries to say them now, nothing will escape but ash.

He isn’t stupid enough to do nothing and merely hope River understands through osmosis but those words aren’t enough. They’re imaginary and ephemeral, easily lost and forgotten in this wide, unknowable universe. So many days he and River will spend apart, separated by space and time – yearning across worlds. He wants River to remember, even when she forgets everything else. He wants River to have more than brittle words.

So he gives her memories. Big, flashy, unforgettable memories that could cast a giant neon sign across the universe in 50 foot capital letters. You. Are. Loved. Stevie Wonder sings it for her under London Bridge; mysteriously inspired poets pen her sonnets; da Vinci sketches her likeness in La Scapigliata. Sunflowers remind him of her and he scatters seeds all over the fields of Spain so every summer people flock there to admire her beauty; he goes back in time and leaves notes throughout history for her to find during her excavations; he takes lessons with Julia Child and Fernand Point so he can make all her favorite dishes. He makes love to her at the start of the universe and the end of it so their love is a bookend to the beginning and the end of everything.

He never asks her if she understands what he isn’t saying. Instead he smiles when she finds another of his surprises and drinks in her laugh when he spins her around another ballroom, hoping she sees it for what it is. Not a showy distraction from a magician, but the last precious coin from a penniless man. All he has to offer. Someday, he might dust off those meagre words humans so love to abuse and see if he can make them shine again – make them pretty enough to deserve her – but for now, surely all this is enough? It must be.

Despite her hesitance around them, children gravitate naturally towards River. He thinks it must be the hair. There is no other possible explanation for why they’re all gathered around her when he’s the one sitting by the bonfire introducing these people to the roasted marshmallow about ten thousand years too early. Considering himself a bit of an expert on the subject, he appoints himself the overseer of their technique, teaching the locals how to get the outside nice and crisp without making the insides a gooey mess.

Most of them are understandably fascinated but every time the Doctor looks up in search of his wife, he finds her sitting just to the left of all the excitement and surrounded by a group of tiny humans. A few of them sit at her feet, two sit on either side of her, one stands behind her poking curiously at her hair, and another seems to have made himself a nice comfy home on her lap. To her credit, River isn’t as horrified by all the attention as she used to be when she was younger.

She seems to be telling them all a story, judging by enraptured looks on their faces and the way River keeps leaning in close like she always does when imparting a secret. Unable to conceal his grin, the Doctor puts the nearest villager in charge of marshmallow roasting and slips away to investigate. As he gets closer, the soft murmur of River’s voice becomes clearer until he can make out exactly which story she’s regaling her audience with.

“And of course, because he’s a man he thinks he always knows exactly where he’s going but he never does. None of them do.” She offers them all an exasperated look, as though inviting them to commiserate with her on the hopelessness of men. Every single little girl in the group nods sagely. “Now, who do you think actually found the gemstone and restored the High Chancellor to his natural form?”

One of them ventures confidently, “You did!”

River beams. “And don’t you forget it.”

Shaking his head and biting back a smile, the Doctor folds his arms over his chest and attempts to look cross. “Just so we’re clear, I did know exactly where I was going, River Song. I was… testing you.”

She glances up, apparently unsurprised to find him eavesdropping. “And the part where you twisted your ankle in the mines and I had to carry you for five miles back to the TARDIS?” She smiles innocently. “Was that part of the test too?”

“Yes. No.” He scowls, dropping his arms to his sides. “Shut up. Dear.”

River grins and he leans in, bopping her fondly on the nose. She turns her head coyly away when he tries to kiss her, teasing, “Not in front of the children, honey.”

“Ah. Right.” He turns to their rapt audience, pasting on a nervous grin. “Oi you lot, you’re missing out on all the sweets.” He claps his hands together, watching them scramble to their feet. “Off your pop, before your parents eat them all.”

Only the little one on River’s lap refuses to budge, curled up there like he belongs. The Doctor sighs, giving up on stealing a kiss for the moment as he settles onto the log beside his wife. Elbows on his knees, he peeks at her through his fringe and confesses, “I wasn’t actually testing you.”

River spares him an exasperated glance, preoccupied with the toddler currently clinging to the front of her shirt. “I know, sweetie.”

“And the whole carrying me thing was a tiny bit…” He risks a glance at their tiny audience and whispers, “Sexy.”

She rolls her eyes. “I know, sweetie.”

“Right. Good.”

He thinks about offering to fetch her a marshmallow but the sight of her hesitantly dropping a hand to stroke the little tot’s hair from his forehead stops the Doctor in his tracks. Despite her reticence, she’s a natural with kids. She always knows what to do, even when she doesn’t seem to trust her own instincts. He’s sure her hesitance must come from her own unusual upbringing and the complete lack of parental figures who didn’t have an eyepatch and a villainous agenda but he finds himself wishing she would give herself more credit. She knows what kids need – even if only because they need the things no one ever gave her.

Elbowing her gently, he says, “You’re good with them.”

River scoffs, glancing away. “I’m really not.”

“Could have fooled me.” He shrugs, studying the boy with sleepy eyes still clinging to her. “He seems very fond of you.”

River glances down at the boy, biting her lip. “I probably just look like someone he knows.”

“Someone else with this hair?” He plucks at a curl fondly. “Impossible.”

River swats at him, adorably and uncharacteristically flushed. The Doctor chooses not to mention it, watching in silence the way she cradles the boy to her and bounces him a bit in her arms to nudge him gently to sleep. Not for the first time, he thinks she’d probably make a brilliant mother if she wanted to be. He wonders briefly if she does want it. Maybe she does and just hasn’t said anything. What if he brought it up? Would she want it, if he offered?

Could he offer?

No. Of course not. It’s a terrible idea. The universe would come after any child of the Doctor and River Song. It would hardly be fair to ask a tiny little being to carry the weight and hatred of an entire universe. Besides, their lives are hardly the right environment in which to raise a child – what with the running and the prison and the timey-wimey-ness of it all.

But… if River really wanted it he might consider it in spite of all that. He might even sort of fancy the idea. He can’t ever see himself sitting still long enough to have a proper family life but the image of a miniature version of him and River asking for bedtime stories and refusing to eat their vegetables and begging for another trip to the intergalactic zoo? With anyone else, the very notion would send him running far and fast but with River it’s… Well. He’s grown to like all sorts of things so long as River is involved.

“Matteo?”

The Doctor lifts his head, snapping back to the present just in time to watch a woman – the boy’s mother, probably – lift the sleeping tot out of River’s arms with a murmur of thanks. River nods stiffly, watching the woman cradle her baby and sway with him toward the warmth of the bonfire. The ache of her longing is clear in her eyes.

The Doctor swallows, wanting nothing but for that look to disappear. Wanting her to have everything it’s within his power to give her. “You know, we could-”

“Doctor? We’re out of marshmallows!”

He sighs. “I warned them about rationing.”

River turns to him with a smirk, oblivious to what he’d been about to offer. “I’ll fetch some more from the TARDIS.”

“Thanks, dear.” He finally steals that kiss he’d been after, smiling as she slips away. The courage to ask her what had been on his mind goes with her. He never finds the nerve to bring it up again.

After they lose her parents, River spends most of her time in her study writing the book that will start it all. He knows he isn’t strong enough to be of any assistance to her, far more apt to make suggestions like taking the manuscript and pitching it into a black hole, but he also knows River would likely rebuff any offers of help from him right now anyway. She’s avoiding him.

The Doctor can’t blame her. He’s hardly been desirable company in recent days. All these centuries knocking about the universe and he’s still that same selfish old man he’s always been, mourning the loss of his Ponds as though he’s the only one who has lost something. River deserves far better than a selfish mad man like him but apparently she isn’t going anywhere despite his many faults and foibles. It’s this strange, terrible combination of guilt and gratitude, contrition and devotion that finds him standing outside the door to her study holding a cup of tea and listening to the soft click of typewriter keys coming from within the room.

“River?”

Balancing the cup in the palm of one hand, he raps his knuckles softly against the door. The typing doesn’t even pause. He sighs, nudging the door open with his hip and peering inside. The hinges creak but River doesn’t glance up, typing away as though he hasn’t interrupted. Reluctant to intrude on her space without permission after all the things he has said and done recently, the Doctor hovers in the doorway and wraps his fingers around the warm ceramic of the mug he’d brought her.

“I made tea.”

Again, she doesn’t look up from her notes. Pencil between her teeth, she taps her fingers against the keys of her typewriter and says, “Thanks.”

Figuring this may well be the closest he’ll get to permission to approach, the Doctor shoves off the doorframe and picks his way across the floor – careful not to step on the crumpled wads of paper scattered everywhere that River must have tossed in various pits of pique. He settles the mug on the corner of her desk, within reach if she wants it but not so close she’ll accidentally knock it over with an elbow. His job done, he lingers beside her desk uncertainly. She hasn’t asked him to leave but she’s hardly rolled out the welcome mat either.

Squirming, the Doctor touches a fingertip to a stack of field journals and ventures hesitantly, “How’s it going?”

“Fine,” comes the short, clipped reply. “I’ll be done soon and then I’ll go.”

He lifts his head from scrutinizing the contents of her desk, frowning. “Go?”

“Hmm.”

River lifts her glasses from the top of her head, relocating them to the bridge of her nose. Usually the sight of her in them does funny things to his insides but today, he only feels a cold knot of dread beginning to tighten in the pit of his stomach. Why hadn’t he noticed how tired she looks? She isn’t dressed to impress anyone today, wearing a pair of leggings and one of Rory’s old jumpers. He thinks the fuzzy socks on her feet might have belonged to Amy once. Her wild curls are piled on top of her head but keep spilling over her forehead every time she bends to peer at her notes. There are new lines of weariness around her eyes and mouth, a dullness to her gaze he has never seen before. And she still hasn’t looked at him.

The Doctor swallows, inching closer. “Actually I wanted to ask if you were hungry. I could cook…” He brightens. “Or we could have dinner somewhere. Anywhere you like, Professor Song.”

She shakes her head. “I need to get this done.”

He scoffs. “There’s plenty of time to finish it-”

“Not if you want me out of your hair sooner rather than later.” She sighs when he goes still, staring at her in silence. Her eyes remain locked on her half-finished manuscript. “It has to be done now.”

Studying her clenched jaw and the tightly contained way she holds herself – so very still, as though the slightest wrong move might make something explode in her face – the Doctor begins to understand he might have buggered things up quite a bit more than he’d realized. “What makes you think I want you out of my hair?”

Despite her every attempt to appear unaffected, the words slip out with an incredulous huff of laughter. “You mean besides your every word and action in the last week?”

He flinches. “River, no. I didn’t mean-”

She sighs, the bitterness slipping away like it had never been. At times it alarms him how easily she forgives his transgressions. Taking off her glasses and letting them clatter to her desk, River pinches the bridge of her nose and closes her eyes for a moment. Gathering patience, though she probably thinks he doesn’t know what she’s doing. As if he doesn’t know all of her little tells by now, even the ones he pretends he doesn’t see.

“I know you didn’t,” she says, and the sound of her voice is more familiar to him now. Soft. Warm. Forgiving. He really doesn’t deserve her. She lifts her head and finally meets his worried gaze since the first time he walked into her study. The utter lack of light in her eyes scares the hell out of him. “But it’s clear you need space. So I’ll finish the manuscript and I’ll go.”

“Stay,” he insists, bracing himself with his hands against the edge of her desk. He leans in toward her, forcing a smile. “We’ll pay Vastra and Jenny a visit. Or we’ll go to Egypt and see how the pyramids are coming along, eh? Get married again while we’re there – how’s that?”

“Doctor,” she begins, and he hates it when she says his name like that. It sounds like no. “I’m not going to stay just because you don’t want to be alone.”

He pushes off her desk with a low growl. “That’s not what this is.”

“Isn’t it?” The amount of resignation in her patient voice is maddening. “It’s alright, honey. We’ll go our separate ways for a while and I’ll pop round to see how you’re faring after I get back.”

“Back?” Pacing to her bookshelves across the room and preparing to pout a bit and possibly make childish comments about the amount of archeology texts she owns, the Doctor scowls and prods irritably at a scroll wedged between suspiciously authentic looking manuscripts of Macbeth and The Importance of Being Earnest – stolen, no doubt. “Back from where?”

Already sliding her glasses back on and returning her attention to her notes, River mutters absently, “I got an invitation to lead the first expedition to the Library planet. Thought I might go – get my mind off things.”

The Doctor goes cold. That slowly growing and widening knot of dread in the pit of his stomach yawns open like a black hole. He grips the edge of a bookshelf until his knuckles turn white and the wood begins to creak beneath his fingers, threatening to splinter. With his back turned to her, River doesn’t see the way the blood drains away from his face. The way his mouth can only silently form no over and over again until it doesn’t even feel like a real word anymore. It screams in his head anyway, blaring like a siren until it loses some of its power with repetition and he feels just as helpless as he had the day he watched her die.

No.

Not yet.

He just watched an ending unfold right before his eyes. He cannot – will not – do it again. He will not lose another precious person to this goddamned thief called Time. The pain of losing the Ponds is still raw and fresh in his mind, reminders of them at every turn and memories lurking like ghosts out of the corner of his eye. It hurts now; and it always will. He has lost companions before. It always feels like this; like being ripped open and left to bleed out. It heals eventually, despite all his best intentions to cling to his grief. Another scar to bear in his long, lonely life.

But this, he knows, would break him.

“Don’t pout, sweetie,” she says, mistaking his silence for something else. Still typing away like she hasn’t destroyed his whole world. “Far better we have some time to ourselves than stay together and say more things we don’t mean.”

He won’t lose her. The only solution is to change it. The Doctor lifts his head, resolve slipping down his spine like cold steel. Not one line echoes in his head but he pushes it away with a grim smile. “I meant them.”

The typing stops. “What?”

“What I said when we lost Amy.” He doesn’t turn to look at her yet, struggling to school his features into something expressionless and cold – the mighty Time Lord instead of the devastated husband. It’s easier when he can’t see the look on her face. “If you hadn’t told her to go -”

River’s voice grows brittle. “She’d be here and miserable without my father.”

“She’d be here.” Clenching his jaw, the Doctor forces himself to turn from the bookshelf and face her properly. River sits utterly still at her desk, staring at him like he’s a particularly bad dream she’s waiting to wake up from. “And that’s really what it comes down to in the end, wife. If not for you, my Amelia would still be here.”

In the silence of the room, he can hear the hitch in River’s breath.

He directs his gaze elsewhere before he can see her eyes begin to water, glaring at a spot in the carpet instead. His hands tremble and he clenches them into fists, forcing the words out around the lump in his throat. “How can you expect me to look at you, knowing you’re the reason we lost them both? If you’d been quicker or cleverer or just… more. I expected better of you.” He stops when he sees her flinch out of the corner of his eye, unable to bear hurting her for another second with such poisonous lies. His eyes begin to burn and he snaps out, “I can’t wait for you to finish the manuscript. Go now. And take your bloody book with you.”

He stalks from the room before she can say a word and he doesn’t dare look at her as he leaves, knowing the moment he sees her face he’ll drop to his knees and beg forgiveness. So he walks and he walks until his vision blurs and the TARDIS opens a door, letting him stumble into a room at the end of the corridor.

Their bedroom. Of course.

With a growl, the Doctor picks up the nearest thing to hand – one of River’s high heels – and hurls it at the wall. It cracks the plaster and he stares at the split along the wall, his chest heaving and his eyes burning. In the ensuing silence, there is only the rasp of his shaky breathing and the sound of River’s footsteps as she leaves.

It’s only standing in his tomb with her ghost in front of him that he understands he had certainly changed things that day in the TARDIS – just not how he’d hoped. River still went to the Library; she still died in his place and wound up trapped in the data core. The only thing he had changed was letting her die believing he blamed her. Believing he didn’t love her.

Cradling her face in his hands, he looks into her eyes and realizes this may very well be his last chance to tell her all the things he’d never had the chance to say to her before. So many of those things seem pointless now. What does it matter that he’d always considered Area 52 their wedding day or that he would have given her children if she’d only asked? What does it matter if he never once blamed her for what happened to her parents or that he loves her so much he chokes on the words every time he tries to say them? It’s too late for any of it to matter now.

She’s gone and he’s looking at an echo.

River doesn’t ask him to say any of those things anyway. She wants something far more difficult to give. A goodbye.

“Say it like you’re going to come back.”

And it’s this – the thing he wants desperately to refuse to ever say – that he doesn’t have the hearts to deny her. Mouth full of lost opportunities and a lifetime of regrets, the Doctor swallows it all back with a smile. “See around, Professor River Song.”

#drfic #river song #eleventh doctor #river x eleven #eleven x river #my fic

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